as to the whereabouts of the stolen money.

The wounded man opened his eyes. "I have heard," he said faintly. "Tell
the gringo that I will say where the money is hidden if he will let me
go."

"It shall be as you wish," said Armigo, curious to learn more of the
matter.

At the corral he delivered Vaca's message to Waring, who feigned delight
at the other's information.

"If that is so, Tio Juan," he laughed, "you shall have your share--a
hundred pesos. Leave the blankets there by my saddle. We will go to the
house."

From the coolness of night, with its dim radiance of stars, to the
accumulated heat of the interior of the adobe was an unpleasant change.
The walls were whitewashed and clean enough, but the place smelled
strongly of cooking. A lamp burned on the oilcloth-covered table. Ramon,
wide-eyed with trepidation, stood by his uncle, who had braced himself
on his elbow as Waring approached. Waring nodded pleasantly and rolled a
cigarette. José Vaca glared up at him hungrily. The lower lip,
pendulous, showed his broken teeth. Waring thought of a trapped wolf.
Juan glanced from one to the other.

But the gringo seemed incurious, merely gazing at the pictures on the
walls; a flaming print of the Madonna, one of the Christ, a cheap
photograph of Juan and his señora taken on their wedding day, an abalone
shell on which was painted something resembling a horse and rider--