Lopez looked around him. He saw Lucia, and extended his hand to her. "And as for you--" he began.

Lucia was frightened. What was to be her fate?

"Yes?" she breathed.

"Life 'as been unkind to you. Too long 'ave you been marry wiz ze tired business man. You shall come wiz me to ze land of purple mountains, where I will love you myself personal."

This animal! Lucia turned from him in horror. "But I don't want to love!"

"It is not what you want," a new tone came into Lopez's voice. "It is what _I_ want. I am ze law, 'ere!"

"Please!" Lucia pleaded.

Pell stepped forward. "Look here!" he cried. "There must be some way out of this!"

"Zere is," said Lopez politely. He pointed to the door. "Zat way."

Angela clung to her father's neck. "Dad!" she cried, seeing that he was about to be forced to go--perhaps forever. Tears rolled down her pretty cheeks.

Pell saw the seriousness of things now, and turned to Hardy in a strange camaraderie. "I guess we're up against it," he said.

"Looks that way," the other replied. In their misfortune they were curiously united.

Lopez turned to the whole room. "If you are ready?" he said, 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 pa.s.s 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 and happy as the bandit himself. This man, whom he never thought to see again in his whole life was standing here, in his own adobe.

"Now you know me!" Pancho went on. "Ah! my frand! 'Ow glad I am for to see you some more! Pedro! Venustiano! Ees my friend! Sabbe! Orders like my own!

Serve 'im as you would me!" He went to Gilbert and frankly embraced him in the Latin fashion. "Eet's 'ell of a good thing I reckernize you!" he laughed, hugging his old friend close. He could never forget his kindness that night so many years ago; and to think he had run across his deliverer now!

Everyone was relieved. Their troubles would now be ended.

"And you ain't going to rob him, after all?" Uncle Henry piped up.

"Rob 'im? Rob my frand?" Lopez repeated.

"Ain't you?" Uncle Henry cried.

The bandit looked at him, wonder in his eyes. "No! _Ciertamente_ no!"

"Hooray!" the old man yelled, and would have risen in his chair could he have done so.

"Say, who the 'ell is that?" said Lopez, addressing himself to Gilbert.

"He's my uncle," young Jones answered.

"Uncle?" the bandit said, unbelieving.