Carmelita advanced her horse a few steps. "Stanislaus, I remember you as Padre Duran's major-domo, at Mission San José. Come forth here and meet me, and let you and me alone arrange for returning the peonas to their home. For each rifle of yours we have two to oppose, and reenforcements are hurrying to join us. Come, let us speak together."
Her words to the renegade rang through the narrow cañon with the weight of a command. Amazement held the outlaw's tongue. To be summoned to war conference with a señorita was an experience hitherto unknown.
"Speak, Stanislaus," her turn, now, to insist, "or have you become dumb? Or, are you afraid to ride out to meet a woman?"
"I must have time to consult my lieutenants," dissimulated the chief. "Stand at one side, then, with your lieutenants. Let no other among you move."
The vigor of her spirit, showing through manner and speech, caused the interfiling among Stanislaus's men to lessen, then to cease.
"Is Señor Mendoza there?" he inquired. Then, in undertone, through shut teeth. "Carajo! slip along here, you scared rabbits, or I'll burn every one of you alive!"
Again the straggling rifles began pushing back to him.
"The Señor Mendoza is not here, but his daughter is. Take no further steps, not one of you, or I will order my men to fire."
Circling her horse, she gave the word: "See to your priming! Present your pieces!" as she had seen her father do on many an occasion.
"Hold, señorita!" from Stanislaus. "'Tis very fitting that we confer, but I must have my lieutenants' agreement." Then, in somewhat lower key: "Such fat wits you lieutenants are. I can beat nothing into you except with my pistol butt. Draw nearer, you rattle-pated grass-eaters."