"You dare not deny it."
"Dare, señor? I dare ver' many thing you do not know."
Mazaro was exasperatingly cool.
"Look here, man," said Frank, leaning toward the Spaniard; "are you aware that you may get yourself into serious trouble? Are you aware that kidnaping is an offense that makes you a criminal of the worst sort, and for which you might be sent up for twenty years, at least?"
The Spaniard smiled.
"It is eeze to talk, but dat is not proof," he said.
"You scoundrel!" exclaimed the boy, his anger getting the better of him for the moment. "I have a mind to convey my suspicions to the police, and then——"
"An' den what, señor? Ah! you talk ver' bol' fo' boy like you. Do you know-a what? Well, see; if I snappa my fingare, quick like a flash you get a knife 'tween your shouldares. Den you not tell-a the police."
Frank could not repress a shiver. He looked swiftly around, and saw the black eyes of the other two men were fastened upon him, and he knew they were ready to obey Mazaro's signal.
"W'at yo' t'ink-a, señor?" smiled Manuel, insolently.