"
"The Americanos?"
"_Si_, there will be three in the party, one of them a man from New
York, who has business with me."
Miss Donovan's decision was rapidly made, her mind instantly grasping
the situation. This man would be Enright, and the business he had with
Mendez concerned Cavendish, and possibly herself also. She glanced
again into the stern, hawklike face of the Mexican, recognising its
lines of relentless cruelty, the complete absence of any sense of
mercy. His piercing eyes and thin lips gave evidence enough that he
was open to any bargain if the reward should be commensurate with the
risk. The man's age, and grey hair, only served to render more
noticeable his real character--he was a human tiger, held now in
restraint, but only waiting a chance to break his chains, and sink
teeth in any victim. The very sight of him sent a shudder through her
body, even as it stiffened her purpose.
Her clear, thoughtful eyes turned inquiringly toward Cavendish, but the
survey brought with it no encouragement. The man meant well, no doubt,
and would fight valiantly on occasion; he was no coward, no
weakling--equally clear his was not the stuff from which leaders are
made.
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