“I would know that villainous face of yours among a thousand,” replied Frank. “I was wondering how you escaped from the prison.”
“Easy enough. It wasn’t strong enough to hold me—that’s all. I didn’t stay there three days. I came back here, and set myself to watch you; and now that I have found you, I do not intend to lose sight of you very soon. When the Don gives me the reward he has offered for you, I will deliver you up to him. I am taking you to the mountains, because I want to see the color of the money, before I give you up; and because I don’t want to be compelled to divide with any one.”
There was no need that Pierre should take the trouble to explain his plans. Frank knew what they were before he said a word about them, and he could see no way to prevent them from being carried out. He was satisfied that it was quite useless to think of escape, and knowing that it would be the height of folly to provoke Pierre’s anger, he did not make the slightest show of resistance.
“I shall always hold a grudge against you,” said the Ranchero, tightening his grasp on Frank’s collar, “and, if it were not for the money you are worth, I would settle accounts with you in a hurry. I’ve had two chances to make myself rich, but you knocked my calculations higher than a kite. I am all right now, however, and if I ever meet you, after I deliver you up to Don Carlos, you are a goner. But that is not at all likely,” added the Mexican, “for when the gate of that rancho once closes upon you, it will never open for you again. The Don knows how to deal with men who learn his secrets. You are always meddling with other people’s business, but you have done it now for the last time.”
Frank listened in silence to this disheartening speech, and told himself that this was the worst predicament he had ever got into. When he was delivered into the Don’s hands, the latter would make an end of him; and if he did not, Pierre would. It was plain that if his captor could have his own way in the matter, Frank had not much longer to live.
The course which Pierre was taking to reach the mountains, lay through a dense forest, which, even in the day-time, was almost impassable for horsemen. He might have chosen an easier route, but knowing that he would be followed by his companions, who would not willingly surrender their claims to a share of the reward, he kept in the deepest part of the woods to elude their pursuit. His horse went at the top of his speed, and Frank was jolted about, and dashed against the trees, until it seemed to him that he could not possibly survive a moment longer. To his great relief, Pierre brought him to the edge of the woods at last; and after carrying him some distance up a ravine, stopped his horse, and began making preparations to bind his captive.
“I shall leave you here for an hour or two,” said he. “I am going back to the Don, and, if he comes down with the fifty thousand, I’ll turn you over to him; and if he doesn’t, you and I will lead a free and easy life here in the mountains, until your uncle ransoms you. I’ve got two strings to my bow this time.”
Pierre pulled his prisoner to a tree, to which he tied him securely with his lasso, Frank offering no resistance. He was too weak to lift a finger in his defense, and, as for remonstrance, he knew that would be useless, and so he held his peace.
“You take it very coolly,” remarked Pierre. “Why don’t you say something?”
“If I hadn’t been knocked about until the strength was all beaten out of me, I should have done something before this time,” replied Frank, boldly. “Give me my liberty, and fifteen minutes’ rest, and I’ll make trouble for you.”