nsent to watch the
entertainment from the safe seclusion of her dressing room.

Both Flick and Seagreave, who were in Gallito's confidence, believed
that the boy's fears were greatly exaggerated, but when they saw the
sheriff and all of his deputies in the hall their curiosity was aroused.
Flick had then gone over to speak to Hanson and Hanson's conversation
had convinced him that Pedro was really in danger and would be arrested
before the evening was over. They then devised the plan of having him
escape in Pearl's dancing dress and long cloak, meaning to drive him up
the hill and let him take his chances of eluding his would-be captors in
the forest surrounding Gallito's cabin. But he had slipped out of the
cart a short distance up the hill. Seagreave believed that there were a
pair of snow-shoes in the bottom of the cart, which had disappeared.
That was all any of them could say.

But when Seagreave pointed out to the sheriff that if no one remained in
either his or Gallito's cabin, it was extremely likely that both
dwellings would be looted before nightfall, also that without the fires
made and kept up the provisions would freeze and that with a guard over
him, he would be as easy to lay hands on as if he were down at the hotel
with the rest, the sheriff gravely considered the matter and was
disposed to yield the point. As Seagreave remarked, he certainly had not
mastered the art of flying and he knew no other way by which he might
escape. "Poor Pedro!" he sighed.

"You bet it's poor Pedro," said the sheriff grimly. "Why, you know as
well as I do, Seagreave, that there ain't no way on God's green earth
for that boy to make a getaway. Of course, he's given us a lot of
bother, what with that damned snow falling again last night and covering
up any tracks he might make, but we're bound to get him. Why, a little
army, if it had enough ammunition, could hold Colina against the world.
When you got a camp that's surrounded by canons about a thousand foot
deep, how you going to get into it, if the folks inside don't want you?
Now, take that, boy! How's he going to strike the main roads and the
bridges in the dead of night, especially when the bridges is all so
covered over with drifts that you can't see 'em by day? And, anyway, the
crust of the snow won't hold him in lots of places. 'Course he may
flounder 'round some, but there's no possible chance for him, and I'm
thinking that the coyotes'll get him before we do."

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