The Mexicans looked their consternation.
"If that is true," said Francisco, slowly, "then I may be capture an' put in prison, too."
"I suppose so; because you belong to Ganza's gang and have probably broken the laws more than once."
"I not murder," protested the man. "Ramon do that, I know; but not me. I very hones' an' good. But come," he added, throwing away his cigarette and rising. "We mus' go back. You are our prisoner, señor."
Chesty did not move. He took the silver case from his pocket and offered it to the Mexicans.
"Help yourselves, boys," he said. "There's no hurry. Let us sit here and have a little talk. When you get back to Ramon he'll be sure to keep you busy enough. This is a good time to rest."
They hesitated a little, but took the cigarettes and lighted them.
"I suppose," remarked Mr. Todd, leaning back with his arms clasped around his knees, "if I asked the warship to take Ganza, and let my friends—you are my friends, I suppose?" They all nodded, watching his face eagerly. "And let my friends escape—with me, in our yacht, the Salvador—they would do so without question. Madero knows me, and he usually does what I ask."
"You know Madero?" asked Francisco, his back against the boat and his elbows resting on the gunwale, in a lounging attitude.