Uncle Henry saw a mess ahead. He steered right into the group, crying, "Wait a minute. I got a better idea yet!"
"You?" Lopez said, as he might have addressed a moron.
"Yes, this place don't belong to neither of 'em yet!"
"But who does it belong to?" the Mexican wanted to know.
"My nevyer," the invalid said.
"And which is 'e?"
"He's down in the shed—fixin'," the old man informed him.
Lopez turned to Pedro. "Venustiano shall find him. Before he make trouble—you," turning to "Red," "shall show 'im where." Pedro had raised his revolver; and one look at it was enough for "Red." These bandits meant what they said; more, they meant every gesture they made.
"It's all right," the foreman said. "He ain't got anything to lose anyhow. I'll show you where he is," and, followed by the sinister Venustiano, he went out.