"Yes, this place don't belong to neither of 'em yet!"
"But who does it belong to?" the Mexican wanted to know.
"My nevyer," the invalid said.
"And which is 'e?"
"He's down in the shed--fixin'," the old man informed him.
Lopez turned to Pedro. "Venustiano shall find him. Before he make
trouble--you," turning to "Red," "shall show 'im where." Pedro had raised
his revolver; and one look at it was enough for "Red." These bandits meant
what they said; more, they meant every gesture they made.
"It's all right," the foreman said. "He ain't got anything to lose anyhow.
I'll show you where he is," and, followed by the sinister Venustiano, he
went out.
Uncle Henry moved his chair close to Lopez. "Now listen, robber--I mean,
bandit. You keep both these fellers here and lend us ten thousand dollars,
and we'll give you a million!"
"A million!" said Lopez, his eyes big.
"The first million we make out of the oil that's here!" "Uncle Henry
proposed. And, serious as things were getting to be, a smile went around
the group.
"I should lend you ten sousand dollar?" the bandit asked.
"Absolutely! Will you?" Uncle Henry had the temerity to say.
"I do not lend," was the hard response.
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