"Mr. Broxton Day is my father. He is chief at the Alderdice Mine, beyond San Cristoval."
"Ah! beyond the town, you say? We have no power there, señorita. Not now. Old Whiskers rules up there once again—and with a strong arm."
Janice did not know to whom he referred as "Old Whiskers"; possibly to some petty chief like himself. She remembered the name of a rebel leader who had been her father's friend in the past and she urged:
"I am sure my father would not have been attacked at all had Señor Juan Dicampa been still alive. He was my father's friend."
"Ha! the Dicampa? He was my friend, too," returned Gomez. "But he joined forces with the conqueror—and was shot for his treachery."
"Oh!"
"Juan Dicampa ended as so many deliverers end—as an apostle of 'the loaves and fishes.' Ha!" ejaculated Dario Gomez. "I and my followers, we are as yet poor enough to be honest. God keep us so!"
"But my father has surely done nobody harm," cried Janice. "I am sure his name must be known for justice and kindness in the Companos District."
"It is true, mi general," said one of Gomez's men softly. "I am acquaint' weeth the Señor B-Day. He is a gran hombre."
Dario Gomez pushed back his sombrero and ran a hand through his thick, graying hair, laughing with twinkling eyes and uplifted mustache into Janice's face.