All looked to Augustino, the silent one, who had already spoken more than he was accustomed to speak in a week. "Guillermo is the thinnest and lightest," said Augustino. "Guillermo will go down!" the rest chorused. But Guillermo, glaring apprehensively at the mouth of the well, backed away, shaking his head and crossing himself.
"Not for the sacred treasure in the secret city of the Mayas," he muttered.
The Jefe pulled his revolver and glanced to the remainder of the posse for confirmation. With eyes and head-nods they gave it.
"In heaven's name go down," he threatened the little gendarme. "And make haste, or I shall put you in such a fix that never again will you go up or down, but you will remain here and rot forever beside this hole of perdition. Is it well, comrades, that I kill him if he does not go down?" "It is well," they shouted.
And Guillermo, with trembling fingers, counted out the coins he had already retrieved, and, in the throes of fear, crossing himself repeatedly and urged on by the handthrusts of his companions, stepped upon the bucket, sat down on it with legs wrapped about it, and was lowered away out of the light of day.
"Stop!" he screamed up the shaft. "Stop! Stop! The water! I am upon it!"
Those on the sweep held it with their weight. "I should receive ten pesos extra above my share," he called up.
"You shall receive baptism," was called down to him, and, variously: "You will have your fill of water this day"; "We will let go"; "We will cut the rope"; "There will be one less with whom to share."
"The water is not nice," he replied, his voice rising like a ghost's out of the dark depth. "There are sick lizards, and a dead bird that stinks. And there may be snakes. It is well worth ten pesos extra what I must do."
"We will drown you!" Rafael shouted.