He released his wife. "What the devil!" he cried. "Who are you?"
"Hold up your hands!" yelled the bandit, stepping over the threshold. And
Pell's hands went up, like magic, the spurs jangling to the floor.
There was a noise without, and Uncle Henry was pushed in by a crude,
foul-looking Mexican, then came "Red," Angela, and Hardy, followed by
another Mexican bandit, and several Mexicans.
"Who is he? What does this mean?" Pell cried out.
"This is Pancho Lopez!" "Red" Giddings said. Everyone's hands were lifted,
and pistols were held by the Mexicans, ready to go off at the slightest
sign of rebellion.
"Pancho Lopez?" Pell repeated, frightened almost to the breaking point.
The bandit, a strange smile upon his lips, and hidden laughter in his eyes,
knew his power. The situation was one in which he reveled. He gazed around
him, triumphantly. His legs were spread apart, a cigarette drooped
nonchalantly from his lips.
"Senors, senoras!" he announced, in fascinating broken English, "you are
all my preesoner!"
CHAPTER VIII
WHEREIN THE BANDIT EXPOUNDS A NEW PHILOSOPHY, AND MAKES MARIONETTES OF THE
AMERICANS
"Put all ze men outside," Lopez ordered.
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