I cursed myself. Had my chance come and gone? But it had only been an instant. He would have shot at Nanette and me before we had gone ten feet.
I caught the woman's significant glance. She was trying to make my opportunity. Nanette felt me stir. Nanette knew that the moment had almost come.
Josefa said: "Turber wants you, Bluntnose—there is a chest that fell in the water. These fool Indians—not Mohican like you, are they, Bluntnose? Not one of them will dive, even for jewels."
The Indian hesitated. Turber fortunately was not within sight. There was an Indian wading in the shallows of the shore.
"These captives—"
"He told me to watch them. Dios! If I could not shoot better than you! Give me that ugly thing."
She took the automatic; took it gently from him. Her face was upraised; her smiling lips were mockingly alluring.
He yielded the weapon; and suddenly leaned down and kissed her with a rough caress.
"You bad Indian! Never let Wolf Turber see you do that! Go now—show him you fear no river when it has jewels in it. I'll keep the prisoners safe."
She covered us with the automatic; she stood ten feet away. "Hurry back, Bluntnose."