For hours the bandit chief had been drinking heavily. Ever since he had been forced to drop his eyes before the cold defiant stare in the eyes of Phil, the incident had rankled in his mind like so much poison. He had been used to seeing only fright and pleading in the eyes of his helpless prisoners. Yet here was this young Americano, bound, utterly in his power, who had outfaced him—him, the great Espato—and had made him lower his eyes. It was intolerable. Would he tamely endure such an affront and not wreak his rage on the beardless youth who had offered it? No! Por Madre de Dios, no!
The more he dwelt on it the more he worked himself into a hot fury, until he could restrain himself no longer and ordered the prisoner to be brought into his presence.
The more cautious Arigo, with his eye on the expected ransom, sought to appease his chief.
“Wait,” he urged. “The messenger ought to be back tomorrow. If he has the money, well and good. Then you can work your will on the prisoner. But perhaps there will be conditions. It may be that we can do more with a live body than with a dead one. Revenge is sweet but money—ten thousand dollars in American money—ah, it is much.”
“Fool,” snarled the chief, “I shall not kill him—not yet. That would be too quick and easy. Tonight I shall play with him as the cat plays with the mouse. I shall make him want to die, but I will not let him die. I shall make him scream. I shall make him beg. I shall break his courage. I shall teach him that it is not good to stare into the eyes of Espato.”
When Phil came before the bandit leader, he saw at once the drunken rage that looked through his reddened eyes, and drew from it the conclusion that at last his hour had come. But he braced himself to meet the ordeal, and there was no sign of blenching in the look he turned on his captor.
Once more Espato glared into Phil’s eyes, and once more, after an interval, his own wavered before the indomitable light in the eyes of his captive.
“Take him to that tree,” he ordered, his face congested and the veins standing out turgidly on his forehead, “and tie him fast. I do not want him to squirm too much when I get busy with him,” he added, drawing his knife from his belt and testing its edge with his thumb.