rrified pleadings, all to no avail.
What he would have to say were best said to Escobar alone.

Slowly her arms dropped to her sides. Her look went from face to face,
resting longest on Jim Kendric's. He kept his lips tight about his
cigar, shutting back any word to raise false hope just yet. The result
was that the girl turned from him with a little shudder, seeing in him
but another oppressor. She sighed wearily and, walking stiffly, passed
to the door flung open by Ramorez and into the house. Escobar was
following her when Kendric called to him. The bandit captain muttered
but came back into the yard.

"Well, senor?" he demanded impudently. "What have you to say to me?"

"Who is that girl?" asked Kendric. "And what are you doing with her?"

Escobar laughed his open insolence.

"So you are interested? Pretty, like a flower, _no_? Well, she is not
for you, Senor Americano, though she is of your own country. She is
the daughter of a rich gentleman named Gordon, if you would know. Her
papa calls her Betty and is very fond of her. Him I have let go back
to the United States. That he may send me twenty-five thousand dollars
for Senorita Betty. Are there other questions, senor?"

"You've got a cursed high hand, Captain Escobar," muttered Kendric.
"But let me tell you something: If you touch a hair of that poor little
kid's head I'll shoot six holes square through your dirty heart." And
he passed by Escobar and went into the house.

He meant to tell the daughter of Gordon that he, too, was an American;
that Barlow, another American, was on the job; that, somehow, they
would see her through. But he was given only a fleeting glimpse of her
as she passed out through a door across the room, escorted by the
grave-eyed young woman who an hour ago had warned him not to anger
Zoraida. He saw Betty Gordon's face distinctly now; she was fair, her
hair was brown, he thought her eyes were gray. But before he could
call to her she was gone, clinging to the arm of Zoraida's maid.

"Poor little kid," muttered Kendric, staring after her. "I'd give my
hat to have her on a horse, scooting for the _New Moon_. All alone
among these pirates, with her dad the Lord knows where trying to dig up
twenty-five thousand dollars for her!"

At least she was no doubt well enough off for the night. She looked
too tired to lie awake long, no matter what her distress. He returned
to his rooms and sat down to wait again for Barl