thorities, but I do not fancy that will amount to anything.
The officers here are afraid of the bandits, and the government is
criminally negligent in the matter of pushing and punishing the outlaws.
The capture of an American to be held for ransom will be considered by
them as a very funny joke."

"Vell, I don'd seen vot you goin' to done apout it."

"I do not see myself, but, come on, and we will find out."

He sought the highest officials of the town, and laid the matter before
them. In the most polite manner possible, they protested their pained
solicitation and commiseration, but when he urged them to do something,
they replied:

"To-morrow, senor, or the next day, we will see what we may be able to
do."

"To-morrow!" cried Frank, desperately. "With you everything is
to-morrow, to-morrow! To-day, to-night, now is the time to do something!
Delays are fatal, particularly in pursuing bandits and kidnapers."

But they shook their heads sadly, and continued to express sympathy and
regret, all the while protesting it would be impossible to do anything
before to-morrow or the next day.

Frank was so furious and desperate that he even had thought of following
the bandits with Hans as an only companion, but the man of whom he had
obtained the horses in the first place would not let him have other
animals.

That was not all. This man had gone through some kind of proceeding to
lawfully seize Frank and Hans and hold them till the animals captured by
the bandits were paid for at the price he should name, and this he
proceeded to do.

Now, Frank did not have the price demanded for the three horses, and he
could not draw it that night, so he was obliged to submit, and the two
boys were prisoners till near three o'clock the next afternoon, when the
money was obtained and the bill paid.

At the hotel Frank found a letter awaiting him, and, to his unbounded
amazement, it was from the professor.

With haste he tore it open, and these words are what he read:

"DEAR FRANK: Pacheco commands me to write this letter. We are at
the headwaters of the Rio de Nieves, but we move on to the westward
as soon as I have written. He tells me we are bound for the
mountains beyond Huejugilla el Alto, which is directly west of
Zacatecas as the bird flies one hundred and ten miles. He bids me
tell you to follow to Huejugilla el Alto, where he says
arrangements will be made for my ransom. Remember Jack