There was something that still perplexed me. How was this queer contract to be carried out?
I had been told that the usual mode is by a messenger; some one acquainted with the neutral ground—if there be such—lying between robber-land and the precincts of the police. This messenger meets an envoy—deputed by the brigands; the acceptance is honoured; the captives given up, and permitted to depart without further molestation!
In some cases even a cheque has been taken in exchange; afterwards presented at the bank by one of the robbers themselves—and paid!
Who was to be Don Eusebio’s deputy? This was a question that interested me.
The answer gave me great satisfaction. It was the driver of the diligencia that had been stopped—known to his passengers by the name of “Don Samuel Bruno.”
When it is said, that the stage-coaches of Mexico are a modern importation from the United States, I need scarcely add that their drivers have been imported along with them. They are all, or nearly all, States’ men; and “Don Samuel,” despite his sobriquet, was not an exception. He was simply Sam Brown.
Though the intended envoy of Don Eusebio, he had been nominated by the bandits themselves; no doubt for the reason that he knew where to carry the cash, and that it could be safely entrusted in his keeping. Any treachery on his part would put an end to his stage driving—at least, upon the roads of Mexico—and ten chances to one whether he should survive to handle the “ribbons” elsewhere.
Sam knew all this, on consenting to become a “go-between;” though it was scarcely by his own consent: since the office had been assigned to him, not by request, but command.
It was a fortunate circumstance for me—the very thing I would have wished for. My chief difficulty—I had seen it from the first—would be to obtain an interview with the knights of the road. With the stage-driver as a guide, the difficulty seemed more than half removed.