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Updated: June 22, 2025
Pasquale and Culvera passed back from the end of the porch into the house. As they went the trooper heard another stray fragment in the voice of the general. "If Harrison crosses the line after him at night...." That was all, but it told Cabenza that Harrison was negotiating with Lennox for the delivery of Yeager in exchange for Threewit and Farrar.
Having finished this and laid out towels, Cabenza brushed the boots of the captain outside while that gentleman splashed within the cabin. He chose the time while he was arranging the shaving-outfit on the table to convey a piece of information to Holcomb. "What's that? An American woman held captive at his house by Pasquale," repeated the soldier of fortune, astonished. "A girl, not a woman.
One of the Americans within drew near the window. "Listen," he said. "Do you want to earn some money ten twenty one hundred dollars in gold? Will you take a letter for me to Los Robles?" "No. The general would skin me alive. I spit upon your offer. I throw dirt upon you." Cabenza stooped, in his hand scooped up some dust from the ground, and flung it between the bars.
The leading man was, of course, playing for time until Steve, under the guise of Cabenza, could arrange to win the freedom of the prisoners. This would take time, for success would depend upon several dove-tailing factors. To attempt a rescue and to fail would be practically to sign the death-warrant of Farrar and Threewit.
You can slip away this afternoon and be back by to-morrow night." Cabenza shook his head regretfully. "No. I am one of the horse wranglers. My boss would miss me if I was not here. I cannot go." The other man swore. At the same time he recognized the argument as effective. He must find a messenger who could absent himself without stirring up questions.
I did not know," he explained humbly, thrusting the liquor bottle at one of them. "Here, compañero, drink and forget that I have spoken." He turned and scurried away into the darkness. Through the barred window Farrar watched the guard drag Cabenza back. He was very despondent. They had been prisoners now nearly a week and could see no termination of their jail sentence in sight.
"Well, I'll bet a bird in the hand is worth twenty or most sixteen in the bush." He patted affectionately a bottle that lay snug in his pocket. "Who goes?" demanded one of the prison guards as he approached. "Pedro Cabenza." Steve chatted with them for a few moments before he produced his bird in the hand. They told him of what Pasquale had promised.
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