d so much before in his life. No doubt by this time he has
had a report of the affair from the captain of the squad, and he'll be
strutting around like a turkey-cock."

The consul's prediction was confirmed, when, a few minutes later, they
were ushered into the mayor's office. He was fairly bursting with self
importance. He greeted them with ineffable politeness, strongly dashed
with condescension.

He was delighted beyond measure to see his dear Americano friends again.
But there--it was a foregone conclusion. Nothing could withstand his
soldiers. He had already telegraphed to Mexico City, of the rescue, and
of the complete destruction of the band of El Tigre. What no other mayor
had been able to accomplish, _he_ had done in one fell swoop. It would
probably mean--ahem--a decoration, possibly--ahem--political
promotion. He trusted that his good Americano friends would report the
matter at Washington. It would show how sternly the Mexican government
protected the lives of foreigners in its borders.

And so he went on, in a steady stream of self laudation, that so strongly
stirred the risibles of the boys that they did not dare to look at each
other, for fear that they would laugh outright. But they were, after
all, deeply indebted to him, no matter what his motives, and they
maintained their gravity and thanked him heartily for the aid he had
rendered. Only after they had reached the street, did their features
relax.

"Hates himself, doesn't he?" laughed Tom.

"He sure does," responded Bert. "He ought to be nothing less than
president, if you should ask him."

"He's certainly throwing himself away to stay here as mayor," added Dick.
"But, considering all that's happened, I don't mind if he does pat
himself on the back. But here comes the man to whom we owe an awful lot,
too. I like him clear down to the ground."

It was the young captain who approached, and they greeted him heartily.
He also had reason for elation, both in having avenged his brother and in
having accomplished a military feat that would surely add to his
reputation. But he was modest, and stoutly disclaimed that the boys owed
him anything. He had simply done his duty and it was all in the day's
work.

"He's the right stuff," said Tom, as they separated, after mutual
expressions of esteem. "He ought to be an American." Which from
patriotic, if somewhat prejudiced Tom, was the highest praise.

And now, after warmest farewells