The possession of the town; the arms of the defenders; food, clothing, and horses to ride--none of these would satisfy them. They would demand the rich Spanish landowners to be held for ransom, the women first of all. And of all those women huddled up in the _casa grande_ not one would bring a bigger ransom than Gracia Aragon. Bud pondered the outcome as the emissaries wrangled on the hillside, and then he went back to the corral to make sure that his horse was safe. Copper Bottom, too, might be held for ransom. But, knowing the rebels as he did, Hooker foresaw a different fate, and rather than see him become the mount of some rebel chieftain he had determined, if the town surrendered, to make a dash. Riding by night and hiding in the hills by day, he could get to the border in two days. All he needed was a little jerked beef for the trip and he would be ready for anything. So he hurried down to the hotel again and was just making a sack of food fast to his saddle when he heard a noise behind him and turned to face Aragon. For two days the once-haughty Don Cipriano had slunk about like a sick cat, but now he was headed for Gracia's big roan, and the look in his eyes betrayed his purpose. "Where you going?" demanded Hooker in English, and at the gruff challenge the Spaniard stopped in his tracks. The old, hunted look came back into his eyes, he seemed to shrink before the stern gaze of the Texan, and, as the memory of his past misdeeds came over him, he turned as if to flee. But there was a smile, an amused and tolerant smirk, about the American's mouth, and even for that look of understanding the harried _haciendado_ seemed to thank him. He was broken now, thrown down from his pedestal of arrogance and conceit, and as Hooker did not offer to shoot him at sight he turned back to him like a lost dog that seeks but a kind word. "Ah, _señor_," he whined, "your pardon! What?" as he sighted the sack of meat. "You are going, too? Ah, my friend"--his eyes lighted up suddenly at the thought--"let me ride with you! I will pay you--yes, anything--but if Bernardo Bravo takes me he will hang me! He has sworn it!" "Well, you got it coming to you!" answered Hooker heartlessly. "But I will pay you well!" pleaded Aragon. "I will pay you--" He paused as if to consider what would tempt him and then suddenly he raised his head. "What is it you wish above everything?" he questioned eagerly. "Your title to the mine--no? _Bien!_ Take me to the line--protect me from my enemies--and the papers are yours!" "Have you got them with you?" inquired Hooker with businesslike directness. "No, but I can get them!" cried Aragon, forgetful of everything but his desire to escape. "I can get them while you saddle my horse!" "Where?" demanded Hooker craftily. "From the _agente mineral_!" answered Aragon. "I have a great deal of influence with him, and--"