"I know that step! It is my spy's! Now, perhaps, I shall show you what manner of man is el Manco."
There was a slight exchange of questions and answers between the guards of the tent, and then the three leaders beheld a dark figure's outlines against the sky.
"Speak," said Captain Pedrillo, as the Indian bowed low, "we three are one to hear you."
"Your Excellency," began the slave in a low, clear voice, eking out his story with signs, which were clearer to the comprehension of Iron Shirt than his speech, "I have penetrated the farm even to the gardens."
"Ah!" cried the peon leader and the robber in a breath, whilst the Apache's eyes gleamed transiently and gleefully.
"I have found a secret gate in the palisade. One or two men, even mounted ones, would not be remarked, for the watches are worn out by the day's guard. In truth, a mounted man would be thought, once within the corral, one of their officers. Thence, one can ride into the garden where the ladies take the air. I am sure," added he, with ferocity, "that if we had half a dozen of us in their midst, while our brothers attacked the hacienda on all sides, that the defenders would be so distracted by their shrieks and the war whoops that we would master the place in a twinkling."
"You hear?" said the Mexican, complacently. "We might have hammered our fists sore on the gate and made no headway. But thanks to my emissary, Juan--"
"Diego, then; we can have the cursed proprietors at a disadvantage. He shall lead a small force into the heart of the fortress during this night. Then let the sound of our cannon, hurling its huge balls into the doomed dwelling, be their signal to seize the women enjoying the shade and shelter, and ours to assail the same from every quarter."
The Apache was not enthusiastic, and the peon was suspicious.
"He was a servant there," explained Captain Pedrillo, hastily, noticing how little his agent and his project were approved. "Don Benito had him flogged for some peccadillo, and he has loved him, thirsted to show his love for the family ever since."
The rebel leader grinned at the sarcasm; it opened an old sore.
"That is different," said he. "Diego, you are welcome now; and yet," he went on, "Diego is Indian, yes; peon, yes; but Yaqui, no!"