"The señorita trusts me. She is at the ranch."
"But you are acting under her orders?"
"If the señor pleases."
Dick turned his back to the wall again. His heart was bitter within him. He had thought her a sportsman, every inch a thoroughbred. But she had set her peons to spy on him and to attack him—ten to one in their favor—so that she might force him to sign away his rights to her. Very well. He would show her whether she could drive him to surrender, whether she could starve him into doing what he did not want to do.
The younger Mexican wakened Sebastian late in the afternoon and left him to guard the prisoner while he went into the town to hear what rumors were flying about the affair. About an hour later he returned, bringing with him some provisions, a newspaper, and a handbill. The latter he tossed to Gordon.
"Señor, I never saw five hundred dollars dangling within reach before. Shall I go to your friend and give him information?" asked Pablo.
Dick read the poster through with interest. "Good old Steve. He's getting busy. Inside of twenty-four hours he'll ferret out this spot."
"It may be too late," Pablo flung back significantly. "If they press us hard we'll finish the job and make a run for it."
They were talking in Spanish, as they did most of the time. The prisoner read aloud the offer on the handbill.
"Please notice that I'm worth no more alive than you are if I'm dead. I reckon this town is full of friends of yours anxious to earn five hundred plunks by giving a little information. Let me ask a question of you. Suppose you do finish the job and hit the trail. Where would you go?"