Phil’s heart beat faster. Here was the very opportunity he had wished for. If they could only see this camp with their own eyes; photograph the surroundings in their minds; test the depth of the water and the width of the channel, would it not be worth the fearful risk they would run? Then the thought of Espinosa drove the possibility of such a hazardous undertaking from his mind. They would then surely be recognized even if they had not been already, and he shuddered to think of the penalty. What was his astonishment when Maria agreed gladly to the plan.
“That would be fun, wouldn’t it?” she cried in English, appealing to the utterly bewildered lads.
“Bueno! We can ride to ‘El Salto de Diablo’ (the devil’s leap), and there I shall have ‘bankas’ ready to take us to the foot of the trail,” Salas returned delightedly as he left them to instruct his men sleeping on the shady porch at the back of the house.
“Do you realize what you are doing?” Phil muttered excitedly. “At any moment he may discover who we really are. Suppose word should come to him from the city? We must not accept his invitation,” he ended hurriedly.
“I fear,” Maria whispered, “that he already suspects who you are, and for that reason I have accepted. If I refused we are already in his hands, and what can we do against his twenty rifles?
“We must act it out, and, if opportunity offers, escape. Above all, don’t show by sign or word that you suspect him and don’t show how much Spanish you know,” she ended fearfully, as she saw Salas approaching with several of his men.
Phil’s heart beat like a trip-hammer at this disquieting belief of Maria. She was certainly keen. By what system of argument had she arrived at such a conclusion? To Phil Salas had appeared to believe the story told by the girl. Sydney and Juan had listened attentively to her words.
In a short time the party were in motion. A horse had been captured from the herd of those that had run wild during the absence of their owner, and Salas sat it well. Phil thought he had never seen such a graceful horseman. The wild horse reared and plunged in its efforts to unseat the rider, but he could not be disturbed. The native followers formed about them, and the party moved slowly along the uneven road.
After a half hour’s ride, Salas ordered a halt at the base of a bluff several hundred feet high. The midshipmen gazed with inward emotion at the towering cliffs ahead of them, through which ran like a torrent the muddy Tubig River.
“From here we must go by banka,” the outlaw explained. “My men will go on foot, for they are accustomed to the rough trail; but for the señorita it would be impossible.”