“Where are they?” demanded Pierre, removing the knife from his mouth, and looking savagely at his prisoner, who all this time had lain perfectly still upon the floor, apparently not the least alarmed.

“Where are what?” inquired Frank.

“The keys, you young vagabond!” returned the Ranchero, astonished at the result of his search, and in a great hurry to get through with his business.  “The keys that open the office and the safe.  Speak quick!”

“The safe key is where you’ll never get your hands upon it,” replied Frank.  “If you want it, you’ll have to go to San Diego, catch Uncle James, and throw him down, as you did me, and search his pockets for it.  But that is something a dozen such fellows as you couldn’t do.”

“But the office key!  Where’s that?”

“It’s in a safe place, also,” said Frank, who had already resolved that the would-be robber should never learn from him where he had hidden the key.  “If I were a man, I should like to see you hold me down so easily.  Let me up, or I’ll call for help!”

“If you speak above your breath, I’ll choke you!” said Pierre, with savage emphasis.  “I am not done with you yet!  Is the money in the safe?”

“That’s none of your business!  Let me up, I say!  Here, Marmion!  Marmion!”

“Carrajo!” muttered the Ranchero, again seizing his prisoner’s throat in his powerful fingers.  “Do you want me to kill you?”

Frank, nothing daunted by this rough treatment, struggled manfully, and tried hard to make a defiant reply, but could not utter a sound.  Pierre tightened his grasp, until it seemed as if he had deliberately resolved to send him out of the world altogether, and then released his hold, and waited until Frank was able to speak before he said: 

“You see that I am in earnest!  Now, answer me!  Is the gold in the safe?”

“I am in earnest, too!” replied Frank, as bravely as ever.  “I shall not tell you where it is.  Are you going to let me up?”

“I am going to make you tell where you have put that key!” said Pierre, as he removed the sash his prisoner wore around his waist, and began to confine his arms behind his back.  “If I once get inside the office, I’ll soon find out where you have put that gold.”

“But you are not inside the office yet, and I don’t think you will get there very soon.  If you were well acquainted with me, you would know that you can not drive me one inch.  You’re a coward, Pierre,” he added, as he released one of his hands by a sudden jerk, and made a desperate but unsuccessful attempt to seize the ruffian by the hair.  “You don’t give a fellow a fair chance.  I wish my dog was here.”

“You need not look for him,” said the Ranchero; “he’ll never come.”

Frank made no reply.  He was wondering what his captor intended to do with him, and turning over in his mind numerous wild plans for escape.  Pierre, in his haste, was tying the sash in a very clumsy manner, and Frank was certain that, with one vigorous twist, he could set himself at liberty.  In spite of his unpleasant and even painful situation—­for, after his attempt to catch the Ranchero by the hair, the latter had turned him upon his face, and was kneeling upon him to hold him down—­he could not help chuckling to himself when he thought how he would astonish Pierre if he did not mind what he was about.