Without waiting an instant for their fire to cease, he ran straight forward toward the pursuing Mexicans.
As he came into the moonlight, Dick saw with surprise that the newcomer was Don Manuel Pesquiera. He was hatless, apparently too unarmed. But not for a second did this stop him as he sprinted forward.
Straight for the spitting rifles Don Manuel ran, face ablaze with anger. He had covered half the distance before the weapons wavered groundward.
"Don Manuel!" cried Sebastian, perturbed by this apparition flying through the night toward them.
Dick waited only long enough to make sure that hostilities had for the moment ceased against his friend before beginning his search for the tin box.
He quartered back and forth over the ground behind the burning house without result, circled it rapidly, his eyes alert to catch the shine of the box in the moonbeams, and examined the space among the rocks at the base of the hill. Nowhere did he see what he wanted.
"I'll have to take a whirl at the house. Some of them may have carried it back inside," he told himself.
As he stepped toward the door, Don Manuel came round the corner. At his heels were Steve and the four Mexicans who had but a few minutes before been trying industriously to exterminate the miner.
Don Manuel bowed punctiliously to Gordon.
"I beg to express my very great regrettance at this untimely attack," he said.
"Don't mention it, don. This business of chasing over the hills in the moonlight is first-class for the circulation of the blood, I expect. Most of us got quite a bit of exercise, first and last."
Dick spoke with light irony; but one distraught half of his attention was upon the burning house.
"Nevertheless, you will permeet me to regret, señor," returned the young Spaniard stiffly.
"Ce'tainly. You're naturally sore that you didn't get first crack at me. Don't blame you a bit," agreed Dick cheerfully but absently. "Funny thing is that one of your friends happened to send his message to my address, all right. Got me in the left laig, just before you butted in and spoiled their picnic so inconsiderate."
"You are then wounded, sir?"
"Not worth mentioning, don. Just a little accident. Wouldn't happen again in a thousand years. Never did see such poor shots as your valley lads. Say, will you excuse me just a minute? I got some awful important business to attend to."
"Most entirely, Señor Gordon."
"Thanks. Won't be a minute."
To Pesquiera's amazement, he dived through the door, from which smoke poured in clouds, and was at once lost to sight within.