"Yes, I'll come in. You can book me as one of the number," was the answer, while the young man glanced round at the gang in the cabin, a look of half-suppressed aversion and fear on his face. "You make the terms with them while I go on deck. This cabin is stuffy, and I feel as if I wanted a mouthful of air."
"Best a mouthful of spirit," growled the sailor, rolling in his seat. "Hi, there! jest pass the bottle and a pannikin. The shaver here wishes for a draught."
But the crew of ruffians happened at that moment to be deeply engaged in conversation, and took no heed of the call. The young man rose, hastily declined the drink, and retreated from the cabin.
"Blest ef I understand the shaver!" grumbled the sailor. "Never knew a white man refuse before. Eh? What's he gone for? A mouthful of air, of course."
The black-bearded individual at the head of the table had suddenly broken off his conversation with his fellow conspirators, and asked the sailor a question, while he followed the retreating figure of the youth with suspicious eyes.
"Who is he?" he asked. "And where is he going?"
"Who? Why, a chum of mine," roared the sailor, toying with his pannikin. "I've been talkin' to him, and it seems as he's like us. He's in want of coin too, and he's eager to join. He can ride a bit, so he'll be useful later. 'Sides, it's a good thing to have a shaver to wait on us older men. He's right, capt'n, so don't you get follerin'."
"Right or not, he'd best behave himself," answered the leader of the gang, casting a menacing glance towards the door, and then turning with a scowl to his companions. "This scum of an Englishman will suit us for a time," he went on in his own tongue; "but I begin to see that he will be a nuisance. He is quarrelsome, and will want too much perhaps. Well, if it comes to that, there is a way of removing the man."
A sinister look passed between the men at the table as they glanced at one another. Indeed they were a band of ruffians who understood one another perfectly, and, if the truth were known, had been on more than one of these lawless expeditions. The condition of the country favored them, for the ranchers had no protection other than what they supplied themselves, and the vast extent of their holdings, the great distances which separated them, were in favor of the ruffians who raided their estancias. At times, indeed, the bands of freebooters who roamed the pampas, and threw in their lot with the Indians, were a source of great danger to the graziers. For these white men, a collection from the riffraff of the towns, made no pretence of seizing cattle. They left that to the Indians, and threw it out as a bait to obtain their help. They organized the raids, left the Indians to round up what cattle they could lay their hands on, and promptly made for the estancia, where revolvers were used mercilessly, the house swept clean of all its valuables, and too often the owner shot in cold blood on his doorstep. Such things had occurred many a time, so that the graziers had had to band together for self protection. Then, when the net began to close in on the raiders, and matters began to look menacing for them, they would leave their Indian allies, and, splitting up, would ride for the coast towns again, there to spend their ill-gotten wealth in the saloons, and wait till an opportunity for further violence occurred.
The young fellow who had been in the cabin emerged on to the deck and walked rapidly to the stern. While in the cabin, under the eyes of the sailor, he had maintained an appearance of coolness and indifference; but now, when he was alone on the deck, beads of perspiration burst from his forehead, his hands closed convulsively, and he showed every indication of distress.