"
The Mexican made no reply, but the black scowl that
clouded his face boded ill for the next gringo who should be
so unfortunate as to fall into his hands. Slowly he wheeled
about and started back up the trail in the direction of the
Pesita camp.
"I'll be halfway to El Orobo," thought Bridge, "before he
gets a chance to tell Pesita what happened to him," and then
he remounted and rode on down into the valley, leading
Rozales' horse behind him.
It would never do, he knew, to turn the animal loose too
soon, since he would doubtless make his way back to camp,
and in doing so would have to pass Rozales who would catch
him. Time was what Bridge wanted--to be well on his way to
Orobo before Pesita should learn of his escape.
Bridge knew nothing of what had happened to Billy, for
Pesita had seen to it that the information was kept from the
American. The latter had, nevertheless, been worrying not a
little at the absence of his friend for he knew that he had
taken his liberty and his life in his hands in riding down to El
Orobo among avowed enemies.
Far to his rear Rozales plodded sullenly up the steep trail
through the mountains, revolving in his mind various exquisite
tortures he should be delighted to inflict upon the next gringo
who came into his power.
Pages:
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499