After what appeared an interminable time the watchers ungagged him and placed food at his lips. He ate of the tortillas, or Mexican corn bread, and of the chili con carne, or stewed meat and chili peppers, which were offered. A glass of Mission wine followed. "Amigos, I can make you rich. Loosen these ropes and come with me. Why not be free from such a master as Yoscolo, and be rich at the same time? A ship will take you and your money where he can never reach you." The gag was hastily replaced. The hours passed slowly. At last he fell asleep. The leader's voice awakened him, saying: "Free his mouth and eyes." It was done. In the dim light he saw Yoscolo standing before him with folded arms. The others, like unblinking watchdogs, were by his side. "Captain, will you write that order? Surely, you have had time to think now." "It would be foolish to do as you say. Come now, release me; give some earnest of turning your San Joaquin camps to our side, then I'll pay you the money and bear no grudge against you for tying me up here." The chieftain grunted. "Grudge or not, white man, I'm too useful to your side for you to work out spite against me. Write that order. Write, also, a note to the consul saying you were suddenly called to Los Angeles--or any place. Date both order and note two days ago--you have been here in this room that length of time--and you go free. I have, then, the money; you will have my support--a very happy ending to your detention." "But see, Yoscolo----" Yoscolo interrupted with an oath. "You shall haggle with me no more. Men, bring fire for his feet and hands. I'll make the fox come to time. Captain Farquharson, you write that order and note, or I'll torture you till you do." A fourth Indian entered the room silently, and spoke to the leader. Yoscolo stamped in fury. "Carrajo! Puerco! I not only have to be the brains, but the hands, in everything. What's the matter with Stanislaus? Where is he?" "I do not know," meekly replied the messenger. "I do not know! What do you know? Get out of here!" The man disappeared, closely followed by Yoscolo. The Indian watchers looked at Farquharson without speaking. "Amigos----" They placed their hands on their pistols threateningly. "Ease the cords on my feet," he asked. "Your chief will not object to that." Each Indian touched his lips, then dropped his hands to his pistol butt. The sperm oil in the lantern burned low. The men extinguished the light, to replenish the oil. In a few minutes it was again burning brightly. The astounded Indians saw Farquharson standing in front of them, wrists and ankles free, brandishing an open clasp-knife. They cowered away from him. He moved toward the door as fast as his benumbed limbs could take him. Dread of Yoscolo overcame their superstitious fear. They drew their pistols, and commanded: "Hands up! Away from the door!"