“Señorita, I beg your pardon! Indeed——”
“It’s not necessary,” said the girl, coldly, trying to pass him.
“No, no, I beg—do not go.” Then, in a lower tone, “I had a double reason for asking your help. I can be of help to you and to your brother.”
Polly paused in some surprise. From the stairway came the sound of energetic whistling—a medley of the “Wearin’ of the Green” and the “Long, Long Trail.” Pachuca continued eagerly.
“Yes, it sounds very extravagant, I know; what my brother-in-law used to call a bit thick. But I can help you—to a treasure.”
“A treasure?” incredulously.
“Exactly. You have heard that I was for a time with Villa?”
Polly nodded.
“Well, in his camp I met some very strange people—among them a fellow named Gasca—what you call a bad lot. He told me one night when he was very drunk—you know, señorita, how some people talk about their affairs when they are drunk?”
Polly’s eyes were beginning to shine with excitement.