With the peon’s piteous cries ringing in their ears the two girls silently walked on in front of the boss.
“Go and get on your horses—pronto,” the boss ordered.
As Carlitos whimpered softly, Jo Ann caught hold of his hand to silence and comfort him.
Too terrified even to speak to each other, the three stumbled along in the darkness around the ledge. Instead of three horses, they found four.
“One must belong to the boss,” Jo Ann thought. “I wonder if he has guessed that José came with us.” She caught her breath as a new fear overwhelmed her. Had he already found José and made away with him—pushed him over the precipice, perhaps?
“Go on, pronto!” the boss growled.
In a brilliant flash of lightning Jo Ann saw Carlitos struggling to reach the horn of his saddle. She leaned over quickly and half lifted, half pushed him up on the horse.
“Infante! Can you not ride without Pancho?” the boss growled tauntingly.
“He must think that the peon and Carlitos came here on a horse,” Jo Ann thought with a feeling of relief, as she mounted one of the other horses. “That means he must not have seen José or know that he’s with us. But where can José be now? Could he have slipped on the trail and fallen over a precipice?”
“Andale—mas pronto!” ordered the gruff voice again.