"The gold is hidden in the house of Pedro Salazar, of Sonora. It is
buried in the earth beneath his bed."

José Vaca had spoken, but Waring was watching Ramon's eyes.

"All right, hombre. Muchas gracias."

"And now you will let me go?" queried Vaca.

"I haven't said so." Waring's tone was pleasant, almost indifferent.

Ramon's face was troubled. Of what use was it to try and deceive the
gringo? But Waring was smiling. Did he, then, believe such an obvious
lie?

"Bueno!" Waring exclaimed. "That lets _you_ out. Now, what about you,
Ramon?"

"My uncle has spoken," said Ramon. "I have nothing to say."

"Then you will ride with me to Sonora."

"As you say, señor."

"All right. Don't sit up all night praying. That won't do any good. Get
some sleep. And you, too, Juan." And Waring turned quickly to Armigo.
"Sleep all you can. You'll feel better in the morning."

Waring turned and strode out. In the corral he spread his blankets. With