"You would not dare do such a thing!" replied Ridge, indignantly.
"Oh! wouldn't I? My friend, you do not realize into whose hands you have fallen. Now, merely to prove that I have both the inclination and power to carry out my threat, I will have you shot. Lope! Garzo!"
Two of the ragged bandits immediately appeared.
"Bind me the arms of this man and blindfold him."
The order was deftly obeyed.
"Now take him from my sight and shoot him."
Seizing Ridge by the shoulders, the men began to drag him away.
Until this moment he had not known whether to acknowledge himself an American or claim to be a Spaniard, nor had he believed that the extremely courteous leader of bandits with whom he had just breakfasted, and who might be either a Cuban patriot or a Spanish guerilla, would do him serious injury. Now, moved by an agony of terror, he shouted out the word whispered to him a few hours before by the commander of the Speedy, the secret countersign of the Cuban Junta.
Its effect was magical. The men who were dragging him to a summary execution loosed their hold and stared at him in amazement, while the young leader sprang to where Ridge stood, tore the bandages from his eyes, severed his bonds, and embraced him.
"Why, my brother, did you not disclose your identity long ago?" he said.