“What are you going to do?” asked Frank, in a trembling voice.

“Can’t you see?” returned the Ranchero, with a savage smile.  “I told you that I was going to make you tell me where you had put that office key, didn’t I?  Well, I intend to do it.  I have tamed many a wild colt, and I know how to tame you!”

As he spoke, he adroitly threw the noose over Frank’s head, and drew it tight around his neck.  Then, seizing him by the shoulders, he pushed him against the wall, under the hook, and pulled down on the lasso, until Frank began to rise on his toes.  This was intended merely to give him a foretaste of what was in store for him.

“Now you know how it feels,” said Pierre, slackening up on the rope, “and you ought to know, by this time, that I am not playing with you.  I am in sober earnest, and if you don’t answer my question, I’ll hang you, right here in your own room, and with your own lasso.  This is your last chance!  Where’s that key?”

Frank hesitated.

CHAPTER V.

The fight in the court.

Frank was certainly in a predicament.  He had his choice between revealing the hiding-place of the office key, and being hanged with his own lasso—­a most disagreeable alternative.  On one side was a lingering death, and on the other, something of which Frank stood almost as much in awe—­disgrace.  Never before had so heavy a responsibility rested upon him; and if he lost that money, what other evidence would be needed to prove that he was not worthy of being trusted?

“Come, come!” exclaimed the Ranchero, impatiently.  “Are you going to answer my question?”

“I don’t know whether I am or not,” replied Frank.  “Don’t be in such a hurry.  Can’t you give me time to think about it?”

“You have had time enough already,” growled Pierre.  “But I’ll give you two minutes more, and while you are thinking the matter over, you can bear one thing in mind:  and that is, if you don’t tell me where that office key is, you’ll never see daylight again.”

The expression on Pierre’s countenance told Frank that the villain meant all he said.

Frank leaned his head against the wall, closed his eyes, and made use of those two minutes in trying to conjure up some plan to defeat the robber.  He had not the slightest intention of allowing him to put his hands on that money if it were possible for him to prevent it, and he was wondering if he could not make use of a little strategy.  If he could invent some excuse to get Pierre out of the room for a few moments, he was sure that he could release his hands.  Would it not be a good plan to tell him where he had hidden the key, and while Pierre was in the office searching for the gold, free himself from his bonds, and seize his rifle, and make the villain a prisoner?  Wouldn’t it be a glorious exploit, one of which he could be justly proud, if he could save the twelve thousand dollars, and capture the Ranchero besides?  Frank thought it would, and determined to try it.