The hours passed slowly. At last he fell asleep.
The leader's voice awakened him, saying: "Free his mouth and eyes."
It was done.
In the dim light he saw Yoscolo standing before him with folded arms. The others, like unblinking watchdogs, were by his side.
"Captain, will you write that order? Surely, you have had time to think now."
"It would be foolish to do as you say. Come now, release me; give some earnest of turning your San Joaquin camps to our side, then I'll pay you the money and bear no grudge against you for tying me up here."
The chieftain grunted.
"Grudge or not, white man, I'm too useful to your side for you to work out spite against me. Write that order. Write, also, a note to the consul saying you were suddenly called to Los Angeles—or any place. Date both order and note two days ago—you have been here in this room that length of time—and you go free. I have, then, the money; you will have my support—a very happy ending to your detention."
"But see, Yoscolo——"
Yoscolo interrupted with an oath. "You shall haggle with me no more. Men, bring fire for his feet and hands. I'll make the fox come to time. Captain Farquharson, you write that order and note, or I'll torture you till you do."