“How are you, Bella?”
The Peruvian girl, who had not yet spoken, answered hurriedly and somewhat wildly, “It’s horrible! horrible!”
Harvey gained control of himself by an effort, and said: “We’re going to get you out of this all right. Don’t worry any more. I’ve got to go now. Keep up your courage.”
As he turned his horse, the bandit who had been an envoy rode out from the bushes to his side.
“One moment,” said the leader, and Harvey drew rein.
“You can tell your father and the others that the girls are in front and we propose to keep them there. If any of you fire, they will be hit first. Now go back, and I think you will advise the old gentleman to pay.”
On the return trip Harvey continued saying to himself, “Rosita is on Nigger and Bella on Tom.”
“How are they, my son?” called Mr. Dartmoor, as soon as the two were within hailing distance.
“They have not been hurt,” replied the boy, who then rode rapidly to the side of General Matajente.
“The captain wants his answer, señor commandante,” exclaimed the bandit.