bridegroom."

The old man did as he was bidden, and when Clodomiro brought in a
woven tray covered with a napkin from which a bottle of wine was
discernible, Marto grinned at him.

"It is a soft nest you found for me, boy," he said appreciatively,
"and when I am capitan I will make you lieutenant."

"Thanks to you, senor, and hasten the day!"

Clodomiro assisted his grandfather, and stood aside at the door
respectfully as the old man passed out with his primitive supply of
salves and antiseptics, and only when all need of caution was ended
the boy smiled at the would-be Lothario, and the smile held a subtle
mockery as he murmured, "The saints send you a good night's sleep,
senor, and a waking to health--and clearer sight!"

"Hell and its blazes to you! why do you grin?" demanded the other
setting down the bottle from which he had taken a long and grateful
drink, but quick as a cat the boy pulled the door shut, and slipped
the bolt on the outside, and laughed aloud.

"Not this night will you be bridegroom for another man's wife, senor!"
he called. "Also it is better that you put curb on your curses,--for
the lady has a mind for a quiet night of sleep."

Marto rushed to the curtained window only to find iron bars and the
glint of a gun barrel. Isidro held the gun, and admonished the
storming captive with the gentle fatalism of the Indian.

"It is done under orders of the major-domo, senor. There is no other
way. If your words are hard or rough to the ears of the lady, there is
a bullet for you, and a hidden place for your grave. This is the only
word to you, senor. It is given me to say."

"But--Gods, saints, and devils--hearken you to me!" stormed the man.
"This is a fool's joke! It can't go on! I must be back at sunrise--_I
must!_"

"You will see many suns rise through these bars if the padrone so
pleases," murmured Isidro gently. "That is not for us to decide."

"To hottest hell with your padrone and you! Bring him here to listen
to me. This is no affair of a man and a woman,--curse her witch eyes
and their green fires! There is work afoot,--big work, and I must get
back to Soledad. You know what goes over the trail to Soledad,--every
Indian knows! It is the cache of ammunition with which to save the
peon and Indian slave,--you know that! You know the revolutionists
must get it to win in Sonora. A trap is set for tomorrow, a big trap!
I must be there to help spring it. To you there will be riches and
saf