The words were not spoken by Dan, yet they seemed to come from the spot where he was standing.
Instantly the door in the wall was thrown open, and a man dashed through. He seemed to be a Spaniard, for he was wearing the Spanish costume.
Before the officer could raise a hand to defend himself, the stranger was within a yard of him, holding a six-shooter at his head.
Dan was paralyzed with astonishment.
The firing party had lowered their rifles. They had broken their ranks, and were talking together excitedly and rapidly.
By this time the Spanish officer had somewhat recovered from his surprise, and the color which had left his cheeks began to return.
"Who are you?" he demanded, sternly.
"Speak lower, senor, a little lower. I allow no one to address me thus."
"Address you! Caramba! I speak as I please. I am master here!"
The stranger laughed mockingly.