"What!" El Buitre exclaimed with strange emotion, "are you really the Trail-hunter?"
"I am," Valentine answered simply.
El Buitre walked up and down the platform hastily, muttering in a low voice broken sentences, and evidently a prey to intense emotion. Suddenly he stopped before the hunter.
"I accept," he said hurriedly.
"Tomorrow you shall receive your money."
"I will none of it."
"What do you mean?"
"Valentine, allow me to remain master of my secret for a few days; I will then explain my conduct to you. Though I am a bandit, every feeling is not yet dead in my heart; there is one which has remained pure, and that is gratitude. Trust to me. Henceforth you will not have a more devoted slave, either for good or evil."
"Your accent is not that of a man who has the intention of deceiving. I trust to you, asking no explanation of your sudden change of feeling."
"At a later date you shall know all, I tell you; and now that we are alone, explain to me your plan in all its details, in order that I may help you effectively."