"Even if these fellows understood algebra," said Rayburn, "I don't see how they could get an answer to the problem that they're trying to work. All the _x_'s that ever were made are not enough to represent an unknown quantity like the Priest Captain; and it simply is not in the conditions of the case that they possibly can know what allowance to make for the factor of error. For the last three hours, as far as I can make out, they've just been talking in a circle, and going over and over the same ground. The size of the business is that half of them believe the Priest Captain is telling the truth, and the other half believe that he is lying. This is a matter of conviction; it is not a thing that they can argue about. As far as I can see, there is nothing to prevent them from keeping on talking without getting anywhere for the next twenty years."
"Well, all I can say," said Young, "is that if they'll put me in th' cab, an' let me run their train for 'em, I'll get it up this grade in no time; an' what's more, I'll just take it down th' other side o' th' divide a-kitin'! What's th' matter with th' Priest Captain, an' only half of 'em have th' sense t' see 't, is that he's just solidly lyin'. He's been lyin' to 'em from away back, I reckon; an' he's lyin' to 'em now; an' he'll keep on lyin' to 'em right smack along till he gets t' th' end of his run. If they're fools enough t' believe him they're bound t' get left th' worst kind. They've got him in a hole now, an' he knows it--an' that's more'n they do, t' judge from th' way they're goin' on. I did have some respect for that Council. So far, they've managed things first-rate. They've run in advance o' their schedule right along, an' they've kep' up a rattlin' head o' steam with mighty d----n bad coal. But if they really mean t' draw their fires, just when they ought t' put on th' forced draught an' let her go for all she's worth, I must say I haven't any more use for 'em. Seein' 'em shilly-shallyin' around like they're doin' now, when they ought t' be takin' their coats off an' sailin' in, just makes me sick!"
Fray Antonio--whose habit of quiet was such that he rarely sought to take part in the talks that we had in English among ourselves--somewhat surprised me by asking me to translate to him what Young and Rayburn had been saying; and when he had heard it all he was silent for a while, and evidently was engaged in earnest thought. At last, speaking very gravely, he asked us if we greatly feared being thrust out from the valley in case the Council decided to accept the Priest Captain's terms; and without giving us a chance to answer, he bade us remember that we had not at all explored the last valley that we had passed through before we entered the cañon that ended at the Barred Pass, and that from it there well might be some outlet through which we could return to the civilized world; and even were we forced to end our days in it, he continued, speaking quickly and urgently, a much worse fate might come to us; for the valley was a bright and beautiful one, as we had seen, and had in it an abundant supply of food. Would living there, he asked, be any worse for us than living where we then were--where we were equally shut in? And even supposing that the war ended in victory for us, and that our allies gave us entire freedom of action, what more could we do than end our days in the Valley of Aztlan, or else go back to that other valley and search for an outlet thence whereby we could get into an open way among the mountains, and so once more to our homes? And then, still denying us opportunity to answer, he went on to speak of the pain and misery and despairing sorrow that the threatened war would bring; and then, more gently, of the duty that pressed upon us of averting this calamity, that was also a crime, even though to do so we must sacrifice hopes and wishes very dear to our hearts.