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It occurred to him that she had sorrowed not at all over the taking off of Escobar at Rios's hand; he had the suspicion that in her cleverness she discerned looming trouble as a result of encouraging the infatuations of two men like Bruce and Barlow, and that before she would let herself be destroyed by an inevitable jealous rage she meant to set them at each other's throats.
At the end Kendric put his arm about the shoulders of his shorter companion, and in lock step they went out. The party was over. "What's on your mind, Seafarer?" asked Kendric when they were outside. "Loot, mostly," said Barlow. "But first, while I think of it, Ruiz Rios's wife wants a word with you." "What about?" Kendric opened his eyes. And, before Barlow answered, "You saw her then?"
Ruiz Rios's eyes glittered, his mouth hardened. He closed the door behind him, watching them keenly. "It is in my mind to do you a kindness, Señor Kendric," he said, speaking evenly and emotionlessly. "You are a murderous cur," rapped out Kendric. "I'd do a clean job if I shot you dead in your tracks." Rios smiled. "Let us speak business, amigo," he said.
In the brief hush which came before the shouts and jabberings of many voices, Ruiz Rios's companion pulled him sharply by the arm, whispering quickly. But this time Rios shook his head. "I am through," he said bluntly. "Another time, maybe." But the fever, to which he had so eagerly surrendered, was just gripping Kendric. That he was playing for big stakes was the thing that counted.
Zoraida would have held back but again Kendric's hand, rough on her arm, sent her forward and, rather than fall, she was forced to Rios's heels. Kendric fired again along the cleft. Then he began knocking loose the stones which held the lever-rock back. When only one stone kept the boulder in place, he called sharply to Betty: "Down we go with them.
"I talk big because I can, as you say north of the border, 'deliver the goods. Do you wish to go free?" "Since you ask it," said Kendric drily, "yes. I've got no stomach for your crowd here." "And you would like to take with you the pretty little Betty?" Rios's eyes were full of insinuation. Kendric felt an impulsive desire to kick him but for the time kept his head and witheld his boot.
Had Jim Kendric thrown the ace then he would have won and the thing would have been ended; had he shaken anything less than a six the spoils would have been the Mexican's. That which happened was that out of the gambler's cup Kendric turned another six. Ruiz Rios's impassive face masked all emotion; Kendric's displayed frankly his sheer delight. He was playing his game; he was getting his fun.
Kendric, with what he knew of Zoraida to guide his thoughts to a conclusion, was more than half convinced that the man was telling the truth. Rios himself was not above murder; hardly now had the body of Escobar stiffened when he seemed to have forgotten the rebel captain and the deed of violence. And Zoraida was Rios's blood cousin. "You appear to be sure that there is treasure?" Kendric said.
"And No again!" Then, when she stood unmoved, her air of insolence like Ruiz Rios's, but even more marked, Ortega burst forward between the men standing in his way, shoving them to right and left with the powerful sweep of his thick arms. His uplifted hand came down on her shoulder, thrusting her backward.
It was only when he was about to pass out of the music room door going to the hallway that he heard voices for the first time. They came from a distance, dulled and deadened by the oak doors, but he knew them for the voices of men, raised in anger. A louder word now and then brought him recognition of Ruiz Rios's voice; a sharp answer might have been from Escobar. He stopped and considered.
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