“I will give you twelve thousand.  Do not be a fool, Artelan.  Come; be sensible and listen to reason.”

“Silence, animal!  Is not the blood of my brother on your head?  One word—­”

“Fifteen thousand, Artelan.  Quick.  There is little time to—­”

Pablo rode up beside him and quite deliberately smote the man heavily across the mouth with the back of his hand.

“There will be no more talk of money,” he commanded, tersely.

John Parker had finished writing his letters and was standing, with his wife and the potato baron, in front of the hacienda when Pablo and his prisoner rode into the yard.  Thin rivulets of blood were trickling from the Basque’s nose and lips; his face was ashen with rage and apprehension.

“Why, Loustalot, what has happened?” Parker cried, and stepped out to intercept the gray gelding, but Pablo, riding behind, struck the gray on the flank, and the animal bounded forward.  But Parker was not to be denied.  He, too, leaped, seized the reins, and brought the animal to a halt.  Pablo glared at him hatefully; then, remembering that this man was no longer an interloper, but an honored guest of the house of Farrel, he removed his sombrero and bowed courteously.

“Senor Parker,” he explained, “thees man, Loustalot, have made the beeg meestake to steal thees horse from Don Miguel Farrel.  For long time since Don Miguel he’s beeg like leetle baby, thees Basque he cannot set the foot on the Rancho Palomar, but to-day, because he theenk Don Miguel don’ leeve, theese fellow have the beeg idea she’s all right for come to theese rancho.  Well, he come.”  Here Pablo shrugged.  “I think mebbeso you tell theese Loustalot Don Miguel have come back. Car-ramba!  He is scared like hell.  Queeck, like rabbeet, he run for those automobile, but those automobile she have one leak in the wheel. Senor, thees is the judgment of God.  Myself, I theenk the speerit of Don Miguel’s father have put the nail where thees fellow can peeck heem up.  Well, when hee’s nothing for do, hee’s got for do sometheeng, eh? Mira!  If Don Miguel catch thees coyote on the Rancho Palomar, hee’s cut off hees tail like that”—­and Pablo snapped his tobacco-stained fingers.  “Queeck!  Hee’s got for do something for make the vamose.  The Senorita Parker, she rides Panchito and holds the gray horse for Don Miguel, who has gone for get the dogs.  Thees animal, Loustalot, hee’s go crazy with the fear, so he grab thees gray horse from the Senorita Parker and hee’s ride away fast like the devil just when Don Miguel arrive with the hounds.  Then Don Miguel, hee’s take Panchito and go get thees man.”

“But where are Don Miguel and Miss Parker now?”

“Mees Parker, she take the automobile; the senorita and Don Miguel go to El Toro.  Me, I come back with thees Basque for put heem in the calaboose.”

“But, Pablo, you cannot confine this man without a warrant.”