"Yet what difference does it make, Gato. As soon as Don Luis is through with the Americanos he will restore you to your old position."
"It is because the Americanos treated me with such contempt," retorted Pedro. "No man sneers at me and lives."
"You unhung bandit!" muttered Tom under his breath. "Why don't you tell your bandit friends that you are angry because of the trouncing I gave you before a lot of men? But I suppose you hate to lose caste, even before such ragged specimens as your friends."
Suddenly one of the men around the fire snatched at his rifle. Next scattering the embers of the fire, the fellow threw himself down flat, peering down the road.
"The troops are coming," he whispered. "I hear their horses."
"The horses that you hear are mules," laughed Gato, harshly. "It is the nightly transport of ore down to El Sombrero. Just now Don Luis is having fine ore brought over the hills from another mine and dumped into El Sombrero."
"Why should he bring ore from another mine to El Sombrero?" asked one of the men, curiously.
"How should I know?" demanded Gato, shrugging his shoulders and spitting on the ground. "Why should I concern myself with the business that belongs to an hidalgo like Don Luis?"
"It is queer that—"
"Silence!" hissed Gato. "Do not meddle with the secrets of Don
Luis Montez, or you will be sorry for it."