"The place has become too hot to hold you, old man," said Dick. "You and Chiquita had better go somewhere for a little pasear. You'll find the air in the mountains more salubrious than here; in fact—vamos, as the Spaniards say. Go to Padre Antonio's house at once," he continued. "It's a sort of a sanctuary, you know; you'll be safe there to-day. If you value your life, don't set foot outside the place, and I'd even be chary about picking flowers in the garden," he added in his droll way. "To-night, José and I will have your horses ready and waiting for you in the cañon at the foot of the trail which leads to the top of the mesa overlooking the valley. You must get away under cover of the dusk before the moon rises. Old Manuela will give you the signal when to depart."
"Dick, you are the most ingenious mortal in the world," answered the Captain. "You are as good as a mother to me. How did you ever think of it?"
"Oh! don't thank me," returned Dick. "I didn't think of it; I never have any ideas. It's José's plan entirely."
"The deuce! It does sound like you, camarada!" he ejaculated, turning to José who had smoked his cigarillo in silence while listening to Dick's words. "The scheme sounds well," he continued after some moments' reflection. "And yet it seems to me you have overlooked something—the most important thing of all."
"What?" asked Dick.
"How are you going to get the horses there without attracting attention? It's just possible that the entire populace might escort you there and then hang all four of us when Chiquita and I arrive."
"Ah! I never thought of that," replied Dick, flicking the ash from his cigar and exchanging glances with José. "I always said you had the imagination of a poet, Jack. But it takes an Indian to think of such things; the horses are concealed already in the cañon, a quarter of a mile from the trail."
"Si, Capitan. I took them there last night," said José.
"Last night?"
"Yes. You see, it was this way. I saw the fight last night—"