“So, you didn’t care much for our company,” observed Bilette. “But never mind, we think so much of you that we run after you wherever you go. Now we have you again!” and he laughed in an unpleasant manner.
“I don’t see what you want of me,” remarked Bob, as he was led back and placed on his pony.
“Ah, perhaps you are not aware that you are worth much money to us,” said Vasco.
“I’ll give you all I have if you’ll let me go,” said Bob.
“That is something we overlooked,” said Dalsett. “Take his money, Vasco. He may have a few dollars.”
In another minute Bob’s money-belt, with the best part of five hundred dollars, was in the possession of the Mexicans. He wished he had kept still.
“This is doing very well,” observed Vasco, as he counted over the bills with glistening eyes. “This is very well indeed, and most unexpected. But we want more than this.”
“It is all I have,” answered Bob.
“But your people, your father has more,” went on the Mexican. “I think if you were to write him a letter, stating that you were about to be killed unless he sent ten thousand dollars, he would be glad to give us the small amount.”
“I’ll never write such a letter!” exclaimed Bob. “You can kill me if you want to!”