"Yes," he said coarsely, handing the wine over.
"To the city?"
"Anywhere where gold is promised."
"And the danger?"
"Pooh! Are we not under fire often?"
"Then come."
"But where? The city is a big place."
"It is; but there are cribs where a man may hide. There we shall find our chief. Young like you, yes, young; but cunning, clever as they make them; keen, yes, sharp as any needle. Where? Ah, that wants telling! You wish for fortune. Then wait for it till the time comes. I am here as a benefactor."
Was he foxing? Was this crafty fellow luring them on? No—a thousand times no. The whole transaction had been so spontaneous.
Tom looked across at Alfonso and found no warning glance in his eyes. His Spanish cousin was as eager as he; he had no fears of a plot against them.