"All this is not clear," he muttered; "there is treachery behind it."
"That is possible," the gambusino answered, calmly.
Red Cedar bent on Andrés eyes that flashed with fury, and roughly seized him by the throat.
"Answer, scoundrel?" he shouted. "What has become of Doña Clara?"
The gambusino struggled, though in vain, to escape from the clutch of the squatter, whose fingers entered his flesh, and pressed him as in a vice.
"Let me loose," he panted, "you are choking me!"
"Where is Doña Clara?"
"I do not know."
The squatter squeezed more tightly.
"You do not know!" he yelled.