ng the key to her breast as
an amulet.

"Send your lovers instead," he said, and laughed, "for you will have
them when you get more beef on your bones. _Adios_, soldier girl!"

She peered up at him under her mane of black hair.

"Myself,--I think that is true," she stated gravely, "also my lovers,
when they come, must follow you! When I see my own people safe in
Palomitas it may be that I, Tula, will also follow you,--and the help
of the child of Miguel may not be a little help, my General."

Kit Rhodes alone knew what she meant. Her intense admiration for the
rebel leader of the wilderness had brought the glimmer of a dream to
her;--the need of gold was great as the need of guns, and for the
deliverer of the tribes what gift too great?

But the others of the guard laughed at the crazy saying of the brown
wisp of a girl. They had seen women of beauty give him smiles, and
more than one girl follow his trail for his lightest word, but to none
of them did it occur that this one called by him the young crane, or
the possessor of many devils, could bring more power to his hand than
a regiment of the women who were comrades of a light hour.

But her solemnity amused Rotil, and he swept off his hat with
exaggerated courtesy.

"I await the day, Tulita. Sure, bring your lovers,--and later your
sons to the fight! While you wait for them tell Marto Cavayso he is to
have a care of you as if you were the only child of Ramon Rotil! I too
will have a word with him of that. See to it, Capitan of the roads,
and _adios!_"

He grinned at the play upon the name of Rhodes, and whirled his horse,
joining his men, who sat their mounts and watched at a little
distance.

Within the portal was gathered all those left of the household of
Soledad to whom the coming and the going of the revolutionary leader
was the great event of their lives, and all took note of the title of
"Capitan" and the fact that the Americano and the Indian girl had his
last spoken words.

They had gone scarce a mile when Fidelio spurred his horse back and
with Mexican dash drew him back on his haunches as Kit emerged from
the corridor.

"General Rotil's compliments," he said with a grin, "and Marto will
report to you any event requiring written record,--and silence!"

"Say that again and say it slow," suggested Kit.

"That is the word as he said it, Capitan, 'requiring the writing of
records, and--silence!'"

"I get you," said Kit, and with a flourish an