But the next second brought better counsel.
Up to the present, Juan had proven himself very far removed from a lunatic.
Nevertheless, Maynard felt cold shivers running up and down his spine as he realized that slight warning from this sentinel would bring the whole Spanish force down upon them.
“Who are you?” whispered the sentinel, stopping squarely in front of them.
He held the muzzle aimed at them, ready to fire at the slightest sign of need.
Yet that muzzle wavered slightly, as if the Spaniard’s fingers, tightly gripping stock and lock, were twitching.
“The Spaniard is more afraid than I am,” muttered Hal, inwardly. “I guess it’s the wrong time for me to get rattled.”
Though the talismanic word “money” had brought the soldier a little off his beat, it was plain that he feared some surprise, for he not only gazed keenly at his two accosters, but tried to peer over their shoulders into the darkness beyond.
“You called me?” he demanded, in a voice that could not have been heard twenty feet off.
“Yes,” answered Juan, coolly. “We need your services. We can pay for them. Could you use money if you had it?”