"Is that unpleasant to you?" the newcomer asked, with an ironical smile. "Oh! not the least in the world." "Continue, then, my worthy friend--I am all ears." "Well," said the guide, "it will, perhaps, be better so." "Go on, then--speak; I attend to you." The personage to whom the Babbler gave the terrible Indian name of Waktehno was a man of pure white race, thirty years of age, of lofty stature, and well proportioned, handsome in appearance, and wearing with a certain dashing carelessness the picturesque costume of the wood rangers. His features were noble, strongly marked, and impressed with that loyal and haughty expression so often met with among men accustomed to the rude, free life of the prairies. He fixed his large, black, brilliant eyes upon the Babbler, a mysterious smile curled his lips, and he leant carelessly upon his rifle whilst listening to the guide. "If I cause the people I am paid to escort and conduct to fall into your hands, you may depend upon it I will not do so unless I am amply recompensed," said the bandit. "That is but fair," Kennedy remarked; "and the captain is ready to assure your being so recompensed." "Yes," said the other, nodding his head in sign of agreement. "Very well," the guide resumed. "But what will be my recompense?" "What do you ask?" the captain said. "We must know what your conditions are before we agree to satisfy them." "Oh! my terms are very moderate." "Well, but what are they?" The guide hesitated, or, rather, he calculated mentally the chances of gain and loss the affair offered; then in an instant, he replied: "These Mexicans are very rich." "Probably," said the captain. "Therefore it appears to me----" "Speak without tergiversation, Babbler; we have not time to listen to your circumlocutions. Like all half-bloods, the Indian nature always prevails in you, and you never come frankly to the purpose." "Well, then," the guide bluntly replied, "I will have five thousand duros, or nothing shall be done." "For once you speak out; now we know what we have to trust to; you demand five thousand dollars?" "I do." "And for that sum you agree to deliver up to us, the general, his niece, and all the individuals who accompany them." "At your first signal." "Very well! Now listen to what I am going to say to you." "I listen." "You know me, do you not?" "Perfectly." "You know dependence is to be placed upon my word?" "It is as good as gold." "That's well. If you loyally fulfil the engagements you freely make with me, that is to say, deliver up to me, not all the Mexicans who comprise your caravan, very respectable people no doubt, but for whom I care very little, but only the girl, called, I think, Doña Luz, I will not give you five thousand dollars as you ask, but eight thousand--you understand me, do you not?" The eyes of the guide sparkled with greediness and cupidity. "Yes!" he said emphatically. "That's well."