Juan, running at full stride, let out a scream at the top of his lungs. The mob stopped attacking and turned toward the noise in unison. Juan was about fifty yards away and closing rapidly while waving his sword menacingly overhead.

Bando, on his hands and knees again, looked out through the legs of the mob and crawled along the outside wall away from them. Juan slowed his pace when they turned their attention on him.

A man with a club turned and saw Bando get to his feet and start running. He swung and caught Bando against the ear, knocking him off stride and into the wall. The rest of the crowd turned and pursued the black shadow around the corner. Juan could see that Bando had a ten pace head start and was pulling away from them as he ran up a trail leading into the cliffs.

Juan stopped at Bando's open doorway and bent over to catch his breath. Two small pools of blood dried into the dirt. He looked inside and saw the finished pieces. They were piled together at the end of the workbench, glistening brilliantly even in the dim light of morning. Juan couldn't help but step inside to get a better look at them. The pile was larger than he dared think it would be, heavier too probably. His mind raced; 'the gold, the mob, the pride, Bando, the gold.' He walked backward out the door, not taking his eyes off the pile. When he was clear of the doorway, he closed his eyes and threw his head back.

"Bando!...Bando!" Juan's shouts echoed back off the cliffs. "Meet.. me.. by.. the.. horses.. and.. we.. go..!" He shouted the words slowly so that each one had a chance to echo back before the next rang out.

He couldn't see Bando but he saw that the crowd had stopped pursuing him up the trail. He reentered the shop, grabbed a rug and began placing the pieces from the pile onto it. He worked as quickly as he could without risking damage to Bando's works. Taking another rug from the corner, he placed the remaining pieces of gold jewelry onto it, grabbed each of the rugs by their four corners and left with his makeshift bags.