"It will have to go some to be unfairer than the justice we can expect from Torres and the Jefe," Henry replied in similar undertones, then stepped forward boldly before the cowled leader and said loudly: "And I demand the Cruel Justice."
The leader nodded.
"Me, too," Francis murmured low, and then made loud demand.
The gendarmes did not seem to count in the matter, while the haciendados signified their willingness to abide by whatever justice the Blind Brigand might mete out to them. Only the Jefe objected.
"Maybe you don't know who I am," he blustered. "I am Mariano Vercara e Hijos, of long illustrious name and long and honorable career. I am Jefe Politico of San Antonio, the highest friend of the governor, and high in the confidence of the government of the Republic of Panama. I am the law. There is but one law and one justice, which is of Panama and not the Cordilleras. I protest against this mountain law you call the Cruel Justice. I shall send an army against your Blind Brigand, and the buzzards will peck his bones in San Juan."
"Remember," Torres sarcastically warned the irate Jefe, "that this is not San Antonio, but the bush of Juchitan. Also, you have no army."
"Have these two men been unjust to any one who has appealed to the Cruel Justice?" the leader asked abruptly.
"Yes," asseverated the peon. "They have beaten me. Everybody has beaten me. They, too, have beaten me and without cause. My hand is bloody. My body is bruised and torn. Again I appeal to the Cruel Justice, and I charge these two men with injustice."
The leader nodded and to his own men indicated the disarming of the prisoners and the order of the march.
"Justice! I demand equal justice!" Henry cried out. "My hands are tied behind my back. All hands should be so tied, or no hands be so tied. Besides, it is very difficult to walk when one is so tied.