a general of note and one of the candidates for the next
presidency----" said Hard, laughing. "If Gonzales is trying to get in with
the new party, he must have inside information that the revolution is
going to be a success."

"Well, its first work had better be to line Angel and a few more of his
kind up against a wall and settle 'em with a firing squad," said Scott.

"That's what I think," declared Mrs. Conrad. "I don't put much faith in
this regiment business. I think Pachuca has simply gone back to first
principles and run amuck."

"I don't believe----" Polly stopped, consciously.

"Miss Polly thinks he's a gentleman and that ends it," said Scott, drily.

"She's young, and the wretch has a way with him. I liked him myself when I
was young and frivolous," said Mrs. Conrad, cheerfully. "I've entertained
him many a time in Mexico City. Suppose you go into my room, my dear, and
have a nice rest and clean up while I go and help Li rustle us a dinner
out of the remnants?" she continued, taking the girl by the hand.

"If Angel Gonzales is playing around this neighborhood, the sooner we get
away the better," said Scott to Hard as the three men were left together.
"Come and cast your weather eye over the wagon. For a quiet part of the
country, we seem to have struck a bad gait."

It was nearly eight o'clock when they sat down to their dinner; a dinner
contrived with Oriental thrift from materials scorned by the marauders.

"Give a Chinaman a handful of rice and a few vegetables and he'll make you
a feast, so my husband used to say," remarked Mrs. Conrad. "You simply
can't starve them."

"Li wants to start right after dinner," said Scott.

"And ride all night?" asked Herrick.

"He says so. He says he knows the trail, and, of course, he's got the
moon."

A little later, as they sat around the fire, they heard the sound of his
horse's feet on the stones and knew that the Chinaman had started.

Polly began to feel the charm of the quaint room, with its dim lighting,
the low fire, the fantastic patterns of rug and basket showing faintly,
and through the windows the mountains and the stars. As the conversation
began to yield to the quiet of the place, Herrick went to the piano and
played softly. It had never fallen to the lot of the girl to hear such
music; the revelation of a man's soul, poured out through an absolute
mastery of the art. The little man, with the brown beard and the long
nervous hands, sat hunched u