and snapped
his fingers as a slave-driver might have done. "Pedro!" he called, "kill ze
first one what make trouble," indicating the entire group of prisoners.
Pedro grinned hopefully. "Zey go. _Bueno!_ Zey go--all of zose ozzers. I
shall follow--wiz my woman." He turned to Lucia, who was standing like a
graven image near the table. "Come! We shall be very 'appy togezzer, you
and me!"

They were about to pass through the door--all of them--when a noise
startled them; and Gilbert, followed by "Red" and Venustiano, appeared.

CHAPTER X

WHEREIN AN OLD FRIENDSHIP COMES TO LIFE, LOPEZ LEARNS A THING OR TWO, AND
FINALLY MAKES A MATCH

"What's coming off?" Gilbert said, looking about him, and not a little
surprised to find a Mexican and his adherents in his adobe.

Lopez turned and gave him a searching look. A light seemed to come into the
bandit's countenance. It was as if someone had put a lantern behind his
face.

"You!" he cried, enraptured. "You ze nephew zat owns zis ranch?"

Gilbert came farther into the room. Everyone now had turned back, stood
stock still, listening to these two.

"Yes," said young Jones. "I am. What of it?" He didn't understand matters
at all. Absent from the house for a little time, he had been called back to
find this medley of people.

Lopez searched his face again. "Tell me you 'ave been in Canon Diabalo
sometime? 'Ave you?"

"Of course. What of it?" Gilbert was mystified.

"You were there one night, three, mebbe four year ago?" Lopez persisted,
hoping there could be no mistake.

"I don't remember," was the disappointing answer.

"You remember poor peon was wounded--near bleed to death?"

"What?" said Gilbert, light beginning to dawn upon him.

"You do!" shouted Lopez, delighted. "Where was 'e wounded? Quick! You
tell!"

"Shot through the shoulder," Gilbert answered promptly.

"It is you! Don't you know me?" He faced him squarely, threw back his
shoulders, and waited, breathless, for his look of recognition.

Gilbert studied his face. An instant of doubt, and then, "Why, you're
Pancho Lopez!" he said.

The bandit was overjoyed. "I am! But don't you recognize who is ze Pancho
Lopez what I am? Look close! Ze clothes, no! Ze face!"

"Good Lord!" was all Gilbert could utter.

"Now you know me?"

"You're the man I found wounded that night!"

"And whose life you save!" Lopez added.

"Well, what do you know about that!" young Jones shouted. He was as
surprised an