And finally he reached the latter. Now he turned his horse’s head toward Reina de Los Angeles, for he had work to do there. There was no señorita before him on the saddle now, and the horse felt the difference.
Señor Zorro glanced behind, and exulted to find that he was running away from the soldiers. Over the next hill, and he would be able to elude them!
But he had to be on guard, of course, for there might be troopers in front of him, too. His excellency might have sent reinforcements to Sergeant Gonzales, or might have men watching from the tops of the hills.
He glanced at the sky, and saw that the moon was about to disappear behind a bank of clouds. He would have to make use of the short period of darkness, he knew.
Down into the little valley he rode, and looked back to find that his pursuers were only at the crest of the hill. Then came the darkness, and at the proper time. Señor Zorro had a lead of half a mile on the pursuing soldiers now, but it was not his intention to allow them to chase him into the pueblo.
He had friends in this locality. Beside the highway was an adobe hut, where there lived a native Señor Zorro had saved from a beating. Now he dismounted before the hut, and kicked against the door. The frightened native opened it.
“I am pursued,” Señor Zorro said.
That appeared to be all that was necessary, for the native immediately threw the door of the hut open wider. Señor Zorro led his horse inside, almost filling the crude building, and the door was hastily shut again.
Behind it, the highwayman and the native stood listening, the former with pistol in one hand and his naked blade in the other.
XXXIII
Flight and Pursuit
That the determined pursuit of Señor Zorro and his band of caballeros from the carcel had been taken up so quickly was due to Sergeant Pedro Gonzales.
Sergeant Gonzales had heard the shots, and had rushed from the tavern with the other troopers at his heels, glad of an excuse to escape without paying for the wine he had ordered. He had heard the shout of the jailer, and had understood it, and immediately had grasped the situation.
“Señor Zorro is rescuing the prisoners!” he screeched. “The highwayman is in our midst again! To horse, troopers, and after him! There is a reward—”
They knew all about the reward, especially the members of the governor’s bodyguard, who had heard his excellency rave at mention of the highwayman’s name and declare he would make a captain of the trooper who captured him or brought in his carcass.
They rushed for their horses, swung themselves into their saddles, and dashed across the plaza toward the carcel with Sergeant Gonzales at their head.
They saw the masked caballeros galloping across the plaza, and Sergeant Gonzales rubbed his eyes with the back of one hand and swore softly that he had been taking too much wine. He had lied so often about Señor Zorro having a band of men at his back, that here was the band materialized out of his falsehoods.
When the caballeros split into three detachments, Sergeant Gonzales and his troopers were so near them that they observed the maneuver. Gonzales quickly made three troops of the men who followed him, and sent a troop after each band.
He saw the leader of the caballeros turn toward San Gabriel, he recognized the leap of the great horse the highwayman rode, and he took after Señor Zorro with an exultant heart, being of a mind to capture or slay the highwayman rather than to retake any of the rescued prisoners. For Sergeant Pedro Gonzales had not forgotten the time Señor Zorro had played with him in the tavern at Reina de Los Angeles, nor had he given up the idea of taking his vengeance for it.
He had seen Señor Zorro’s horse run before, and he wondered a bit now because the highwayman was not putting greater distance between himself and his pursuers. And Sergeant Gonzales guessed the reason—that Señor Zorro had Señorita Lolita Pulido on the saddle before him and was carrying her away.
Gonzales was in the lead, and now and then he turned his head and shouted orders and encouragement to his troopers. The miles flew beneath them, and Gonzales was glad because he was keeping Señor Zorro in sight.
“To Fray Felipe’s—that is where he is riding!” Gonzales told himself. “I knew that old fray was in league with the bandit! In some manner he tricked me when I sought this Señor Zorro at his hacienda before. Perhaps this highwayman has a clever hiding-place there. Ha! By the saints, I shall not be tricked again!”
On they rode, now and then catching glimpses of the man they pursued, and always in the minds of Gonzales and his troopers were thoughts of the reward and promotion a capture would mean. Their horses were beginning to show some fatigue already, but they did not spare the animals.
They saw Señor Zorro turn into the driveway that led to Fray Felipe’s house; and Sergeant Gonzales chuckled low down in his throat because he felt that he had guessed correctly.
He had the highwayman now! If Señor Zorro continued to ride, he could be seen and followed because of the bright moonlight; if he stopped, Señor Zorro could not hope to cope successfully with half a score of troopers with Gonzales at their head.
They dashed up to the front of the house and started to surround it. They saw Señor Zorro’s horse. And then they saw the highwayman himself, and Gonzales cursed because half a dozen troopers were between him and his prey, and were at him with their swords, threatening to end the business before Gonzales could reach the scene.
He tried to force his horse into the fight. He saw Señor Zorro spring into a saddle and dash
