ere perhaps a dozen in the clearing. Inside
was a rude bed of boughs covered by an old saddle blanket. A wooden
bench was the only other item of furniture, while a smoky pine torch,
thrust into the cleft of a stump, gave a dismal light. Three of the
bandits were stationed as a guard at the door of the tent, while two
others were placed at the back. It was evident that the chief was taking
no chances. They left his hands unbound, while he ate the meal of
frijoles and tortillas that was presently brought to him, but when he had
finished, his hands were again tied, though not so tightly as before,
while his feet were secured to a stake, driven into the ground at the
foot of the bed. Thus fastened, he could sit or lie on the bed, but
could not move about. This done, they left him for a while to his
reflections.

Outside, the camp was given up to boisterous hilarity. The bandits had
ridden hard and far that day, and they were enjoying the sense of rest
and relaxation that comes after a day in the saddle. Their horses were
picketed in rows on the edge of the clearing, while their masters sat
around a huge fire and sought diversion after the manner of their kind.
Games of cards and dice were in progress, and bottles of mescal passed
from hand to hand. The growing drunkenness led rapidly to quarrels, and,
in one of the groups, a stabbing affray was only averted by the coming of
El Tigre on the scene. The noise ceased like magic and the knives were
replaced in their sheaths, while the revelers tried to slink out of the
sight of their dreaded master. He glared at the brawlers for a moment,
but his mind was on something else just then, and, lifting the flap of
Dick's tent, he stepped inside.

He had expected to find an anxious, excited, agonized prisoner. He
stopped, nonplussed. Stretched out on his bed, Dick was sleeping as
peacefully as a baby. Not a trace of fear or worry was visible on the
strong, handsome face. It was a novel experience--this sort of
disdainful defiance--to the monster whose name was a Synonym of terror
over all that district.

"These cursed Americanos," he muttered. "Where do they get their
courage? And those eyes--the first that ever looked into mine without
falling. I swore to myself this morning that I'd pluck them out of his
head. But I've thought of something better since," he mused, while a
devilish grin spread over his face, "and I'll let him keep them until he
sees what I'll ha