Baldy got up from the table and went unsteadily to the door, giving Hashknife a nasty look as he passed. The others laughed at Baldy’s fears, while Guadalupe brought more liquor.
It was light enough for Baldy to distinguish objects at a distance, and as he leaned against the side of the door, two riders came around the corner of the house and drew up near the door.
One was Felipe, the half-wit, and the other was unmistakably a priest. Baldy whirled, shut the door, and called to Guadalupe:
“Steve, who in hell sent for a priest?”
“Diablo!” exploded Guadalupe. “I did not expect him so soon. Quick! Take your prisoner!”
Guadalupe ran to the corner, swung the old bunk aside, and lifted the trap, while Baldy and Gonzales picked Hashknife up bodily and hurried him the length of the room. His legs were bound so he could not walk, and they lowered him swiftly to Guadalupe, after which Gonzales helped him below.
It was only a matter of a few moments before Guadalupe and Gonzales came back, closed the trap, and were ready when Felipe opened the door and admitted the priest.
The priest was a small man, with a thin face, almost chalklike in color. He halted just inside the door and surveyed the company.
“I am Father Francisco,” he announced in a monotone. “Felipe met me on the road, so I saved him the trip to Santa Isabella. He said that you had need of my services.”
“Welcome, Father,” said Guadalupe. “I shall have Lopez bring food and wine at once.”