Bob was at a loss what to do. He wondered how he could make Maximina, whose language he could not speak, and who could talk but imperfectly in his, understand about the underground city. Equally hard would it be to make her comprehend where he lived and how to start for the nearest large city in order to get help or communicate with his friends.
He remembered that his captors had brought him almost directly north as they sped away from the buried city. So he thought the best thing to do would be to ride to the south, when he might see some landmark that would aid him in locating himself.
“We’ll go this way,” he said, pointing in a direction opposite to that of the north star, which he saw blazing in the sky.
“All right,” exclaimed the Mexican girl. She leaped to the back of one of two ponies she had brought from the stable. Bob was not so expert, but managed to get into the saddle.
So far they had met no one, nor had they heard the sound of any of the Mexicans. As Maximina had said, all of the men were away to a feast, one of the numerous ones celebrated in the country. Even Noddy and his friends had gone, so there was no one left to guard Bob but the girl.
Away they rode, urging their ponies to a gallop. Bob was fearful that at every turn of the road he would meet with some of Vasco’s men, but the highway appeared to be deserted.
“Me glad to go. Bad mans steal Maximina years ago,” said the girl, after half an hour’s ride. “Me want to get back to own people.”
“I wish I could help you,” said Bob, “but I’m about as badly off as you are. The Mexicans stole me, too.”
“We both same, like orphans,” said Maximina. “Never min’. Maybe we find our folks.”
By degrees she brokenly told Bob her story, how she had been kidnapped by Vasco when she was a child, and how he had kept her because her father was too poor to pay the ransom demanded. She had gradually come to be regarded as a regular inmate of the Mexican camp, which, it seemed, was an organized headquarters for kidnappers and brigands generally.