"Now, senorita," said Quintana gaily, "my packet, if you please, — and we leave you to the caresses of your faithful gendarme, — who should thank God that he still possesses the good two hands to fondle you! Allons! Come then! My packet!"
One of the masked men said: "Take her downstairs and lock her up somewhere or she'll shoot us from her window."
"Lead out that gendarme, too!" added Quintana, grasping Eve by the arm.
Down the stairs tramped the men, forcing their prisoners with them.
In the big kitchen the glare from the burning out-house fell dimly; the place was full of shadows.
"Now," said Quintana, "I take my property and my leave. Where is the packet hidden?"
She stood for a moment with drooping head, amid the sombre shadows, then, slowly, she drew the emblazoned morocco case form her breast pocket.
What followed occurred in the twinkling of an eye: for, as Quintana extended his arm to grasp the case, a hand snatched it, a masked figure sprang through the doorway, and ran toward the barn.
Somebody recognized the hat and red bandanna:
"Salzar!" he yelled. "Nick Salzar!"