Leisurely he approached, and bowing low, said gently:
“I’m sorry, Señorita, you got so scared. It ain’t goin’ to be so no more.”
All night they rode and in the gray light of the early morning came to that small adobe ranch house near the Mexican border.
Save for a half-starved dog that slunk from sight behind the house as they approached, there seemed to be no life about the place. But when Sonora Jack, riding to within a few feet of the door, shouted, “Buenos dias, madre,” the door opened and an old Mexican appeared. He greeted the outlaw with a cordial welcome and came forward to take the horses. At the same moment an ancient crone hobbled from the house.
“Hijo mio! Gracias a Dios que volviste sin novedad,” she cried. “My son! Thanks to God you have returned without mishap.”
“Si, madre, sin novedad—Yes, mother, without mishap.”
“You found the Mine with the Door of Iron?”
“No, Mother, but I found something else that will bring much gold to me.”
He turned toward Marta and bade the girl dismount.
To the old man he said: