Frank again picked up his pencil, and wrote as follows:
"The above was written by Pierre's command, and I have his permission to say a word for ourselves. You need not pay out any money for Archie and me; and I know that if I was allowed an opportunity to talk to Johnny, he would send the same message to his father. We are now in Pass Christian—a difficult place to escape from, but we intend to make the attempt this very night. Detain Pierre's messenger, by all means; then send Dick and Bob with a party of men up here by daylight, and they can capture every one of these villains."
That was what Frank added to the letter, but, when Pierre ordered him to read it, he made up a postscript as he went along; for he knew that if the chief were made acquainted with the real contents of the note, he would not send it. The Ranchero did not know one letter from another, and he was obliged to rely entirely upon Frank, who read:
"We're all hunky-dory thus far. Pierre don't seem to be so bad a fellow, after all; in fact, he's a brick. He treats us like gentlemen; but, of course, we'd rather be at home, so please send on the money for Archie and me, and see that Mr. Harris and Mr. Vane do the same for Johnny and Arthur."
"You're sure, now," said Pierre, as Frank handed him the letter, after addressing it to Mr. Winters, "that you haven't told your uncle where we are, or advised him to try to rescue you?"
"There's the note," replied the prisoner, "and if you think I have been trying to deceive you, read it yourself."
"I guess it's all right," said the chief. "At any rate, I'll run the risk. I have treated you like gentlemen, and if you want me to continue to do so, you must behave yourselves, and not try to play any tricks upon me. Now, mind what I say. If any of you hear the others talking of escape, and don't tell me of it, I'll pitch every one of you into that gully."
Having given utterance to this threat, and emphasized it by scowling savagely at his prisoners, Pierre turned on his heel and walked away.
By this time, dinner was ready, and the boys were invited to sit down and help themselves. The principal dish was dried meat, but there were luxuries in the shape of sandwiches, cakes, crackers, and tea and coffee, which the cook had found in the pack-saddle, and which he did not hesitate to appropriate. The table was the ground under one of the trees, and the grass did duty both as table-cloth and dishes.
"Now, boys," said the chief, "here's a dinner fit for a king. Pitch in, and don't stand upon ceremony."