"I'm calling the attention of these valiant gentlemen of Seguro to the only man with spirit and bravery enough to enter the haunted castle," she declared. "How did you know?" and his eyes widened with surprise. This was a queer place. "All Seguro knows by this time, señor." At these words, Don Robledo swaggered in through the door from the bar. He pushed the villagers aside with contemptuous roughness. He even thrust the girl out of his way as she tried to detain him. He laughed insultingly into the bland face of Jarvis. "So, you are the _brave_ American, are you?" he cried, surveying Jarvis, with hands on hips and stocky legs well spread. [Illustration: "_So, you are the brave American, are you?_"] Jarvis puffed cigarette smoke at him and answered with ingenuous modesty. "I'm _an_ American. And here" (he waved his hand to Rusty, who saluted with divination of the tenor of the interchange) "I present to your notice another American. In fact, we're both Americans!" "And you both want to die?" cried Don Robledo, drawing a stiff forefinger suggestively across his brawny throat. Rusty was reading the pantomime with perfect understanding. He made a wry face and rolled his eyes at Jarvis, who responded with a droll wink. "Well, now that you mention it, I'm in no hurry about it. I'm not at all anxious on the subject." He sat down in one of the carven chairs and continued to puff his cigarette with provoking amiability. Robeldo leaned forward toward him and snarled: "You had better keep out of the castle then. It has a fatal climate." Warren laughed, and flicked the ashes of the cigarette upon the sleeve of his interviewer. "Oh, you mean the castle ghost--this old rummy who can't sleep in his grave of nights? Ha, ha! I'm not afraid of a little trifle like that, señor." Robledo stepped back threateningly, and yet with hesitation caused by the perplexing simplicity of this foreigner. "No?... Well, señorita, we gentlemen of Seguro will gladly drink to your American hero! Here, lads, is a toast to the maddest fool that ever came to Spain!" He turned contemptuously on his heel, with military precision. Then he chuckled Dolores under the chin with a leer, to have his hand indignantly pushed aside. As the girl glared at him with a flash of hatred in her eyes, he stalked into the taproom, followed by the ready topers. "Pile these bags on the table, Rusty," ordered Warren, as he smiled winningly at the girl. "Yassir. We kin use 'em for one of these yere barracadies, if we has to." "It looks as though we're booked for a warm reception in Seguro, Rusty. Doesn't it?" Rusty rolled those chalky optics, with an expression of mingled drollery, apprehension, and confidence in his master's ability to lead the battle. It is wonderful how much expression can be condensed into a darky's eyes!