“Send Captain Rozales to me,” directed Pesita.
The soldier shuffled away to where a little circle of men in wide-brimmed, metal-encrusted hats squatted in the shade of a tree, chatting, laughing, and rolling cigarettes. He saluted one of these and delivered his message, whereupon the tall, gaunt Captain Rozales arose and came over to Pesita.
“The big one who was brought in today is not a gringo,” said Pesita, by way of opening the conversation. “He is from Granavenoo. He can be of great service to us, for he is very friendly with the Germans—yet he looks like a gringo and could pass for one. We can utilize him. Also he is very large and appears to be equally strong. He should make a good fighter and we have none too many. I have made him a captain.”
Rozales grinned. Already among Pesita’s following of a hundred men there were fifteen captains.
“Where is Granavenoo?” asked Rozales.
“You mean to say, my dear captain,” exclaimed Pesita, “that a man of your education does not know where Granavenoo is? I am surprised. Why, it is a German colony.”
“Yes, of course. I recall it well now. For the moment it had slipped my mind. My grandfather who was a great traveler was there many times. I have heard him speak of it often.”
“But I did not summon you that we might discuss European geography,” interrupted Pesita. “I sent for you to tell you that the stranger would not consent to serve me unless I liberated his friend, the gringo, and that sneaking spy of a Miguel. I was forced to yield, for we can use the stranger. So I have promised, my dear captain, that I shall send them upon their road with a safe escort in the morning, and you shall command the guard. Upon your life respect my promise, Rozales; but if some of Villa’s cutthroats should fall upon you, and in the battle, while you were trying to defend the gringo and Miguel, both should be slain by the bullets of the Villistas—ah, but it would be deplorable, Rozales, but it would not be your fault. Who, indeed, could blame you who had fought well and risked your men and yourself in the performance of your sacred duty? Rozales, should such a thing occur what could I do in token of my great pleasure other than make you a colonel?”
“I shall defend them with my life, my general,” cried Rozales, bowing low.
“Good!” cried Pesita. “That is all.”
Rozales started back toward the ring of smokers.
“Ah, Captain!” cried Pesita. “Another thing. Will you make it known to the other officers that the stranger from Granavenoo is a captain and that it is my wish that he be well treated, but not told so much as might injure him, or his usefulness, about our sacred work of liberating poor, bleeding unhappy Mexico.”
Again Rozales bowed and departed. This time he was not recalled.
Billy found Bridge and Miguel squatting on the ground with two dirty-faced peons standing guard over them. The latter were some little distance away. They made no objection when Billy approached the prisoners though they had looked in mild surprise when they saw him crossing toward them without a guard.
Billy sat down beside Bridge, and broke into a laugh.
“What’s the joke?” asked Bridge. “Are we going to be hanged instead of being shot?”
“We ain’t goin’ to be either,” said Billy, “an’ I’m a captain. Whaddaya know about that?”
He explained all that had taken place between himself and Pesita while Bridge and Miguel listened attentively to his every word.
“I t’ought it was about de only way out fer us,” said Billy. “We were in worse than I t’ought.”
“Can the Bowery stuff, Billy,” cried Bridge, “and talk like a white man. You can, you know.”
“All right, bo,” cried Billy, good-naturedly. “You see I forget when there is anything pressing like this, to chew about. Then I fall back into the old lingo. Well, as I was saying, I didn’t want to do it unless you would stay too, but he wouldn’t have you. He has it in for all gringos, and that bull you passed him about me being from a foreign country called Grand Avenue! He fell for it like a rube for the tapped-wire stuff. He said if I wouldn’t stay and help him he’d croak the bunch of us.”
“How about that ace-in-the-hole, you were telling me about?” asked Bridge.
“I still got it,” and Billy fondled something hard that swung under his left arm beneath his shirt; “but, Lord, man! what could I do against the whole bunch? I might get a few of them; but they’d get us all in the end. This other way is better, though I hate to have to split with you, old man.”
He was silent then for a moment, looking hard at the ground. Bridge whistled, and cleared his throat.
“I’ve always wanted to spend a year in Rio,” he said. “We’ll meet there, when you can make your getaway.”
“You’ve said it,” agreed Byrne. “It’s Rio as soon as we can make it. Pesita’s promised to set you both loose in the morning and send you under safe escort—Miguel to his happy home, and you to El Orobo Rancho. I guess the old stiff isn’t so bad after all.”
Miguel had pricked up his ears at the sound of the word escort. He leaned far forward, closer to the two Americans, and whispered.
“Who is to command the escort?” he asked.
“I dunno,” said Billy. “What difference does it make?”
“It makes all the difference between life and death for your friend and for me,” said Miguel. “There is no reason why I should need an escort. I know my way throughout all Chihuahua as well as Pesita or any of his cutthroats. I have come and gone all my life without an escort. Of course your friend is different. It might be well for him to have company to El Orobo. Maybe it is all right;
