GABRIEL HENDERSON had no feeling of security in that place "where no soldier could follow." In the day of the old Guiterrez, surrounded by simple Indians who had no thought of the Spaniard's fondness for many exits to his abode, this tunneled retreat was very well; in the day of Roberto Garvanza, who knew all about its existence, though he might not know exactly where to find it, the thing was more a trap than a mysterious place of security.
It would be a small matter, when the reinforcements from San Diego arrived, to throw a guard of soldiers around old Pablo's place and cut off every hope of escape. Though the soldiers might fail to find the exits at once, hidden as they were in the brushwood and trees, a close search under determined direction would disclose them. Two men might hold off a regiment for a while, but endurance and ammunition would not last forever.
They were poorly armed. Henderson had lost two of his pistols in the fight, Felipe's weapons were old and ineffective except at close range. There was little ammunition between them; it was unsafe to raise the inevitable suspicion that would attend the purchase of more by Pablo.
