"How far is it to the nearest town?"
"Less than five kilometers. It is a small town called Caro."
"Is it held by the insurgents?"
"No, though it bears the marks of one of their raids. The people have been left too poor to be either feared or sought for."
"We need not go there?"
"About a kilometer this side we can strike a mountain road leading into the wild country."
"Where we are likely to find El Capitan and his insurgents?"
"Si, Sergeant Rand."
"Then that is our course, señor. Show us the way."
Nothing further was said until possibly three miles had been passed, when Riva Baez drew rein. The road they had taken soon after leaving the encampment of the troops, by this time had sort of "dwindled away," as Jack put it, until it was now little more than a cattle path. The country ahead was thinly populated, if settled at all. The guide of the little party was the first to speak: