"A glass of aguardiente in the inner chamber——"
"Ah! you refuse! In coming here my time was wasted. I go elsewhere."
Casting blanket away he strode toward the darkness and the downpouring rain. As he neared the fire the light showed his face clearly. It was curiously wrinkled, not unlike a savage dog ready to bite. His companion followed him.
The leader was the dreaded Yoscolo, the craftiest Indian in the Californias, and the best educated. The other was Stanislaus, once of the Mission of San José, a man as cruel as Yoscolo, if less clever.
The doña cuddled nearer the bed as they passed,
"Hold!" cried the Captain as the Indians reached the cave entrance. "I'll accept your proposition."
They turned.
"Come back and we will arrange preliminaries within."
"Done!" said the leader. Stanislaus grunted affirmation.
A shout sounded in the open, followed by the words: