Tregarth boomed out in a heavy bass: "What's the matter with the boss? Both of un? They be all right. Bean't they, lads?"
It was just after the answering chorus that Pesquiera came forward and bowed magnificently to the young mine operator. The New Mexican's eyes were blazing with admiration, for he was of Castilian blood and cherished courage as the chief of virtues.
"I have the honor to salute a hero, señor" he cried enthusiastically. "Your deed is of a most fine bravery. I, Manuel Pesquiera, say it. Have I the right in thinking him of the name of Mr. Richard Gordon?"
Something that was almost disgust filmed the gray eyes of the young miner. He had the Anglo-Saxon horror of heroics. What he had done was all in the day's work, and he was the last man in the world to enjoy having a fuss made over it.
"My name is Gordon," he said quietly.
The Spaniard bowed again.
"I have the honor to be your servant to command, Don Manuel Pesquiera. I believe myself to be, sir, a messenger of fortune to you--a Mercury from the favoring gods, with news of good import. I, therefore, ask the honor of an audience at your convenience."
Dick flung the wet hat from his curly head and took a look at the card which the Spaniard had presented him. From it his humorous gaze went back to the posturing owner of the pasteboard. Suppressing a grin, he answered with perfect gravity.
"If you will happen round to the palace about noon to-morrow, Señor Pesquiera, you will be admitted to the presence by the court flunkies. When you're inquiring for the whereabouts of the palace, better call it room 14, Gold Nugget Rooming-House."
He excused himself and stepped lightly across to his companion in the adventure, who had by this time recovered consciousness.
"How goes it, Tom? Feel as if you'd been run through a sausage-grinder?" he asked cheerily.
The man smiled faintly. "I'm all right, boss. The boys tell me you went back and saved me."
"Sho! I just grabbed you and slung you in the cage. No trick at all, Tom. Now, don't you worry, boy. Just lie there in the hospital and rest easy. We're settling the bill, and there's a hundred plunks waiting you when you get well."
Tom's hand pressed his feebly.
"I always knew you were white, boss."
The doctor laughed as he came forward with a basin of water and bandages.
"I'm afraid he'll be whiter than he need be if I don't stop that bleeding. I think we're ready for it now, Mr. Gordon."