Arguilla did not hear all that Brevoort said,
but he caught the one significant word. His broad face darkened.
These Gringoes knew too much! He would hold them until the cattle had
been delivered--and then they could join his army--or be shot. A mere
detail, in either event.
"Put these men under arrest!" he commanded the sentries. "If they
escape--you are dead men."
"What's the idee--" began Pete, but the noble captain waved his hand,
dismissing all argument, along with the sentries, who marched their
prisoners to the stable and told them plainly that they had much rather
shoot them than be bothered with watching them; a hint that Pete
translated for Brevoort's benefit.
One of the sentries lighted a dusty lantern and, placing it on the
floor of a box stall, relieved his captives of their belts and guns.
The sentries squatted at the open end of the stall and talked together
while Brevoort and Pete sat each in a corner staring at the lantern.
Presently Brevoort raised his head. "Find out if either of 'em sabe
American talk," he whispered.
"You sabe my talk?" queried Pete.
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