And now, that the cat had caught the mouse, he supposed that the cat would proceed to play with it, in the playful little manner that is common to cats.
Phil’s heart misgave him. It was not a pleasant thought, being played with by Espato! The old scoundrel seldom killed his victims outright. He took plenty of time about it so that he might enjoy the execution to the full. Espato was even longer on torture than the cat. Having come this far in his reflections, Phil refused to think further. It wouldn’t do to think very much about such things.
Then he thought of Murray and his gang of thieves going scot free and he was forced to smother another groan. If only he might have managed to get his message through to camp before his capture. It would have been such a great thing, to have apprehended the thieves and perhaps have restored the entire amount of money stolen from the Castleton bank. And now they in all probability would be allowed to get away without any punishment at all.
He had little time to think about this however, for the sinister little group of horsemen soon deserted the desert for the woods and there began a slow and tortuous climb up a steep, rocky, mountain path, that seemed to Phil a never-ending horror.
The little Mexican ponies made easy work of it, but Phil’s big horse, urged on relentlessly by the Mexican who rode close to them, stumbled several times and once almost fell, wrenching Phil’s tortured wrists so horribly that in spite of all he could do a little whispered cry of pain escaped him.
“Aha,” cried the Mexican delightedly. “The Americano suffers. Good. But it ees nothing to what he will suffer. Be prepared, Americano. Espato, he wait for you!”
CHAPTER XX
In Bitter Bondage
At the sound of the dreaded Espato’s name, uttered by the little Mexican, Phil had a fleeting instant of despair. He had guessed into whose hands he had fallen but he had not been sure. While there had been a shadow of uncertainty, there had been also, hope. But now—.
Up, up, climbed the straggling party till it seemed that they must reach the top of the world. Twice again Phil’s horse stumbled and almost fell, only to be lashed viciously to his feet. And each time Phil struggled with the desire to cry aloud in his agony. How much further? How much further?
And yet, even while he longed for the end of this nightmare ride, Phil shuddered away from the thought of what would really happen to him when they reached the end of it. Torture—death—if only they would put death first!