PEDRO GUITIERREZ could hear the screaming only faintly, and he kicked the rotted board that was the front step of the old inn and swore in a muttering undertone. He always missed the fun. He always got the worst jobs. Now he was assigned to guard the door with nothing to see but a few winking stars.
Another scream scaled up and up in a paean of agony, broke off into a bubbling wail. Hah! Pedro thought, that was a good one. He would have liked to have seen the old man’s face when he uttered it.
The old man was stubborn, but he’d break pretty soon. Gold! Pedro Guitierrez could imagine it in a glittering yellow pile, could feel it weighing down his pockets, could taste the good liquor it would buy. Gold!
He heard a sudden little scuffling noise behind him in the darkness. He whirled around
