“Squad——”
It was too much even for La Pava. She dropped to her knees.
“Wait, señor! I will tell all, on one so small condition—that you spare the life of Emilio Gonzales. If not—you can kill me. On your word as an officer save him, and let me see him, and by the Blessed Virgin I will tell you the truth.”
“Where is this man?”
“He is in the Military Hospital.”
“I will do all I can for Gonzales—I’ll take you to him. Now, where are the guns?”
“They are buried in the patio—in front of my house.”
Even then she smiled.
“Remember,” he warned, removing the blindfold, “if you have lied, you will be shot. Sergeant, look for them; report to me at the hospital.”
As the men marched off Vicente, the ubiquitous, who had trailed La Pava, emerged from the shadow of a doorway. La Pava, whom nothing seemed to startle, sneered at him. Lawrence gripped his automatic, recognized Vicente, and thereupon wiped the sweat from his forehead.