"Ah! Benito," cried Tony. "Did I not tell you so? See! This
is our room, for the key opens the door."
The room was dark. Tony, carried forward by the weight
of his head, which had long since grown unaccountably
heavy, rushed his feet rapidly forward that he might keep
them within a few inches of his center of equilibrium.
The distance which it took his feet to catch up with his
head was equal to the distance between the doorway and the
foot of the bed, and when Tony reached that spot, with
Benito meandering after him, the latter, much to his astonishment,
saw in the diffused moonlight which pervaded the room,
the miraculous disappearance of his former enemy and erstwhile
friend. Then from the depths below came a wild scream
and a heavy thud.
The sentry upon the beat before the bank heard both. For
an instant he stood motionless, then he called aloud for the
guard, and turned toward the bank door. But this was locked
and he could but peer in through the windows. Seeing a dark
form within, and being a Mexican he raised his rifle and fired
through the glass of the doors.
Tony, who had dropped through the hole which Billy had
used so quietly, heard the zing of a bullet pass his head, and
the impact as it sploshed into the adobe wall behind him.
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