"Very well," said Stoneheart. "I forgot to mention another little thing."
"What is it, señor?" asked the vaquero, in great trouble at the turn the conversation was taking.
"A very trifling matter. If you do not accept my proposal, I will instantly blow out your brains."
El Zapote examined the speaker's face most carefully; with a rascal's intuitive perception, he felt that the time for pleasantry was over, and matters were threatening to become serious. "At least give me leave to explain, señor," said he.
"I ask no better," said Stoneheart coldly. "I am in no hurry."
"I cannot lead you to the Tigercat's hiding place—I swear so; but I can direct you to it, and tell you its name."
"That is something. Go on; we have already made some progress. I see we shall come to an understanding. I am in despair at finding myself obliged to use extreme measures; it is so disagreeable."
"Unhappily, señor, I have told you all. This is what happened: the Tigercat, after his flight from the presidio, collected some score of resolute men, of whom I was one, who comprehended that for some time to come the Mexican Confederation would be too hot to hold them, and resolved to plunge into the wilderness, in order to give the storm time to blow over. All went well for a little while, when the Tigercat suddenly changed his route; and, instead of leading us to overrun the country of the Apaches, took us to the district of the bee-hunters and cascarilla gatherers."
"He has done that?" exclaimed Stoneheart, starting with surprise and terror.
"Yes, señor. You can understand how little I cared for a game of life and death, in regions infested by the fiercest beasts of prey, and, worse than that, by serpents whose bite is mortal. Seeing that the Tigercat was seriously bent upon taking refuge in this horrible country, I confess, señor, I got terribly frightened; and at the risk of dying with hunger, or being scalped by the redskins in the desert, I quietly dropped to the rear, and profited by the first opportunity to give the Tigercat the slip."