the slightest
sound.

At the bend in the narrow lane Jose unrolled the cord, and I, taking
one end in my hand, sat down in the darkness, laying the gag and a
strip or two of hide on the ground near me. Jose moved to the other
side of the lane, and we let the rope lie slack across the road. Then
we waited in silence for the coming of Lurena, feeling confident that
he would not leave the house till the night was far spent.

This adventure was not to my liking, and I could only hope that in some
way my presence might be of use to Montilla. Somehow I had not the
slightest hope of my father's idea proving right. My old distrust of
the man returned in full force, and I dreaded what an examination of
Lurena's pockets would reveal.

Slowly, very slowly, the minutes passed; a whole hour went by, and
still there was no sign of our intended victim. Had he left the house
by the front? I almost hoped he had. Yet, should he escape us this
time, I knew that now Jose had started his quarry he would run it to
earth.

A second hour passed. He must come soon now or not at all. My limbs
were dreadfully cramped, and I began to get fidgety. Once I coughed
slightly, but a sharp pull at the rope warned me to be silent. At last
the hoof-beats of a horse could be distinctly heard. From the way he
rode, the horseman evidently knew the road well. Nearer and nearer he
came, while we, raising the rope, stretched it tight. The figure of
horse and man loomed up dimly, came close to us; there was a stumble, a
low cry of surprise, and the next moment our man lay on the ground, his
head enveloped in Jose's rug.

A spectator might easily have mistaken us for professional thieves, we
did the thing so neatly. Almost in less time than it takes to tell, we
had thrust the gag into our victim's mouth, and bound both his legs and
arms. Then, while I removed his weapons, Jose lit the lantern, and we
looked for the incriminating papers. We searched minutely every
article of his clothing and the trappings of his horse, but without
result, except for a scrap of paper hidden in his girdle.

Jose pounced on this like a hawk, and we examined it together by the
light of the lantern. I could have shouted for joy when at last we
were able to read it: "To all good friends of Peru. Pass the bearer
without question." It was signed by the president, Riva-Aguero, and
bore the official seal.

"It seems you were right," whispered Jose sulkily. "Help