them dismount
and hunt cover, and then me an' my men wades in and cleans up the bunch.
They was only a few of them but they croaked the whole bloomin' six o'
mine.

"I tell you it was some scrap while it lasted; but I saved your guests
from gettin' hurted an' I know that that's what you sent me to do. It's
too bad about the six men we lost but, leave it to me, we'll get even
with that Villa guy yet. Just lead me to 'im."

As he spoke Billy commenced scratching himself beneath the left arm, and
then, as though to better reach the point of irritation, he slipped his
hand inside his shirt. If Pesita noticed the apparently innocent little
act, or interpreted it correctly may or may not have been the fact. He
stood looking straight into Byrne's eyes for a full minute. His face
denoted neither baffled rage nor contemplated revenge. Presently a slow
smile raised his heavy mustache and revealed his strong, white teeth.

"You have done well, Captain Byrne," he said. "You are a man after my
own heart," and he extended his hand.

A half-hour later Billy walked slowly back to his own blankets, and to
say that he was puzzled would scarce have described his mental state.

"I can't quite make that gink out," he mused. "Either he's a mighty good
loser or else he's a deep one who'll wait a year to get me the way he
wants to get me."

And Pesita a few moments later was saying to Captain Rozales:

"I should have shot him if I could spare such a man; but it is seldom I
find one with the courage and effrontery he possesses. Why think of it,
Rozales, he kills eight of my men, and lets my prisoners escape, and
then dares to come back and tell me about it when he might easily have
gotten away. Villa would have made him an officer for this thing, and
Miguel must have told him so. He found out in some way about your little
plan and he turned the tables on us. We can use him, Rozales, but we
must watch him. Also, my dear captain, watch his right hand and when he
slips it into his shirt be careful that you do not draw on him--unless
you happen to be behind him."

Rozales was not inclined to take his chief's view of Byrne's value to
them. He argued that the man was guilty of disloyalty and therefore a
menace. What he thought, but did not advance as an argument, was of
a different nature. Rozales was filled with rage to think that the
newcomer had outwitted him, and beaten him at his own game, and he was
jealous, too, of the man's ascendanc