't know."

"Oh yes, you do. She started for La Feria. But--did she get there? Or
did Longorio have other plans for her? You'd better tell me the truth,
for your general can't help you now." Dave did his best to read the
Mexican's expression, but failed. "Senor Ed's death means nothing to
me," he went on, "but I must know where his wife is, and I'm willing to
pay, with your liberty." In spite of himself his anxiety was plain.

Jose exclaimed: "Ho! I understand. He was in your way and you're glad
to be rid of him. Well, we have no business fighting with each other."

"Will you tell me--?"

"I'll tell you nothing, for I know nothing."

"Come! I must know."

Jose laughed insolently.

Law's face became black with sudden fury. His teeth bared themselves.
He took a step forward, crying:

"By God! You WILL tell me!" Seizing his prisoner by the throat, he
pinned him to the wall; then with his free hand he cocked Longorio's
revolver and thrust its muzzle against Jose's body. "Tell me!" he
repeated. His countenance was so distorted, his expression so maniacal,
that Jose felt his hour had come. The latter, being in all ways
Mexican, did not struggle; instead, he squared his shoulders and,
staring fearlessly into the face above him, cried:

"Shoot!"

For a moment the two men remained so; then Dave seemed to regain
control of himself and the murder light flickered out of his eyes. He
flung his prisoner aside and cast the revolver into a corner of the
room.

Jose picked himself up, cursing his captor eloquently. "You Gringos
don't know how to die," he said. "Death? Pah! We must die some time.
And supposing I do know something about the senora, do you think you
can force me to speak? Torture wouldn't open my lips."

Law did not trust himself to reply; and the horse-breaker went on with
growing defiance:

"I am innocent of any crime; therefore I am brave. But you--The blood
of innocent men means nothing to you--Panfilo's murder proves that--so
complete your work. Make an end of me."

"Be still!" Dave commanded, thickly.

But the fellow's hatred was out of bounds now, and by the bitterness of
his vituperation he seemed to invite death. Dave interrupted his
vitriolic curses to ask harshly:

"Will you tell me, or will you force me to wring the truth out of you?"

Jose answered by spitting at his captor; then he gritted an unspeakable
epithet from between his teeth.

Dave addressed him with an air of finality. "You k