glance at the dance-hall and called out loudly,
rolling his r's even more pronouncedly than is the custom with his race:
"Aguardiente! Aguardiente!"

"Sit down!" ordered Nick, vaguely conscious that there was something in
the greaser's voice that was not there before.

The greaser obeyed, but not until he knew for a certainty that his voice
had been heard by his master.

"So you did bring in my saddle, eh, Nick?" asked the road agent, coming
quickly, but unconcernedly into the room and standing behind his man.

Up to this time, Nick's eyes had not left the prisoner, but with the
appearance on the scene of Johnson, he felt that his responsibility
ceased in a measure. He turned and gave his attention to matters
pertaining to the bar. As a consequence, he did not see the look of
recognition that passed between the two men, nor did he hear the
whispered dialogue in Spanish that followed.

"_Maestro! Ramerrez!_" came in whispered tones from Castro.

"Speak quickly--go on," came likewise in whispered tones from the road
agent.

"I let them take me according to your bidding," went on Castro.

"Careful, Jose, careful," warned his master while stooping to pick up
his saddle, which he afterwards laid on the faro table. It was while he
was thus engaged that Nick came over to the prisoner with a glass of
liquor, which he handed to him gruffly with:

"Here!"

At that moment several voices from the dance-hail called somewhat
impatiently: "Nick, Nick!"

"Oh, The Ridge boys are goin'!" he said, and seeming intuitively to know
what was wanted he made for the bar. But before acceding to their
wishes, he turned to Johnson, took out his gun and offered it to him
with the words: "Say, watch this greaser for a moment, will you?"

"Certainly," responded Johnson, quickly, declining the other's pistol by
touching his own holster significantly. "Tell the Girl you pressed me
into service," he concluded with a smile.

"Sure." But on the point of going, the little barkeeper turned to him
and confided: "Say, the Girl's taken an awful fancy to you."

"No?" deprecated the road agent.

"Yes," affirmed Nick. "Drop in often--great bar!"

Johnson smiled an assent as the other went out of the room leaving
master and man together.

"Now, then, Jose, go on," he said, when they were alone.
"_Bueno!_ Our men await the signal in the bushes close by. I will lead
the Sheriff far off--then I will slip away. You quietly rob the place
and fly--