“Senor, I make no promises which I fail to keep,” she answered, “and there is also a promise which I made Senor Tom Bell—”
“There is some one knocking at the cellar door,” said Tom Bell to Phillips. “See who is there, and be careful that you let no one in without the bullet and the password.”
“Tom, I'm afraid,” whined Driscoll “that Spanish devil's promised to get you hung more than once lately, and last night I know she sent that Mexican Jose of hers out somewhere with a string and bullet. I saw them—”
“What! Why didn't you tell me before? Listen! Phillips is in trouble! Go help him! Call the boys! Hurry!” As Jim Driscoll, with a halt in his walk, left him, Tom Bell stole quietly to one of the tunnels and ran to the trap-door which opened into an outhouse.
He found the corral full of saddle-horses and the Mountaineer House completely surrounded by Sheriff Paul's, posse.
“Come on, boys,” said a voice.
“Did he get in?”
“Ye-ah—put his hand in with the bullet on a string, got his foot in the door, gave the password and heaved the door wide open. Come on, now, and there's orders not to take the woman, remember.”
Bell stole a rawboned roan from the corral and was far from the frightful battle at Mountaineer House before he dared burst forth into the vituperation which he heaped upon the name of Rosa Phillips.