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Having eaten, Billy returned to his room. It was now dark and the bank closed

and unlighted showed that all had left it. Only the sentry paced up and down the

sidewalk in front.

Going at once to his room Billy withdrew his tools from their hiding place beneath

the mattress, and a moment later was busily engaged in boring holes through the

floor at the foot of his bed. For an hour he worked, cautiously and quietly, until

he had a rough circle of holes enclosing a space about two feet in diameter. Then

he laid aside the brace and bit, and took the keyhole saw, with which he patiently

sawed through the wood between contiguous holes, until, the circle completed, he

lifted out a section of the floor leaving an aperture large enough to permit him to

squeeze his body through when the time arrived for him to pass into the bank

beneath.

While Billy had worked three men had ridden into Cuivaca. They were Tony,

Benito, and the new bookkeeper of El Orobo Rancho. The Mexicans, after eating,

repaired at once to the joys of the cantina; while Bridge sought a room in the

building to which his escort directed him.

As chance would have it, it was the same building in which Billy labored and the

room lay upon the rear side of it overlooking the same yard. But Bridge did not lie

awake to inspect his surroundings. For years he had not ridden as many miles as

he had during the past two days, so that long unused muscles cried out for rest

and relaxation. As a result, Bridge was asleep almost as soon as his head touched

the pillow, and so profound was his slumber that it seemed that nothing short of

a convulsion of nature would arouse him.

As Bridge lay down upon his bed Billy Byrne left his room and descended to the

street. The sentry before the bank paid no attention to him, and Billy passed

along, unhindered, to the corral where he had left his horse. Here, as he was

saddling the animal, he was accosted, much to his disgust, by the proprietor.

In broken English the man expressed surprise that Billy rode out so late at night,

and the American thought that he detected something more than curiosity in the

other's manner and tone--suspicion of the strange gringo.

It would never do to leave the fellow in that state of mind, and so Billy leaned

close to the other's ear, and with a broad grin and a wink whispered: "Senorita,"

and jerked his thumb toward the south. "I'll be back by mornin'," he added.

The Mexican's manner altered at once. He laughed and nodded, knowingly, and

poked Billy in the ribs. Then he watched him mount and ride out of the corral

toward the south--which was also in the direction of the bank, to the rear of

which Billy rode without effort to conceal his movements.

226

The Mucker