"Yes, _senor_."

"Again the case of that man Cavendish?"

"We were not told, only ordered to bring her here and guard her until
we heard otherwise. It was not known you were back."

"We came three hours ago; you see what we brought," with a wave of the
hand. "All was clear above?"

"Not a sign; I searched with field-glasses."

"Then I will ride with you to Mendez; 'tis well to have the matter
promptly over with."

The wagon, rumbled on, Moore urging the wearied team with whip and
voice to little result. Sikes remained on foot, glad of the change,
striding along in front, while the Mexican rode beside the wheel, his
equipment jingling, the sunlight flashing over his bright attire. He
made a rather gallant figure, of which he was fully conscious, glancing
frequently aside into the shadow beneath the canvas top to gain glimpse
of its occupant. At last their eyes met, and he could no longer
forbear speech, his English expression a bit precise.

"Pardon, _senorita_, I would be held your friend," he murmured, leaning
closer, "for it is ever a misfortune to incur the enmity of Senor Lacy.
You will trust me?"

"But," she ventured timidly, "I do not know you, _senor_; who you may
be."

"You know Senor Mendez?"

She shook her head negatively.

"'Tis strange! Yet I forget you come from New York. They know him
here on this border. If you ask these men they will tell you. Even
Senor Lacy takes his orders from Pascual Mendez. He care not who he
kill, who he fight--some day it come his turn, and then he liberate
Mexico--see? The day is not yet, but it will come."

"You mean he is a revolutionist?"

"He hate; he live to hate; to revenge the wrong. Twice already he lead
the people, but they fail him--the cowards. He return here where it is
safe: yet the right time will come."

"But you, _senor_?"

"I am his lieutenant--Juan Cateras," and he bowed low, "and I ride now
to tell him of his guest."

She watched him as he spurred forward, proud of his horsemanship, and
making every effort to attract her attention. Moore turned in his
seat, and grinned.

"Some tin soldier," he said sneeringly, "that's a feller I always
wanted ter kick, an' some day I'm a goin' ter do it."

"You heard what he said?"

"Sure; he was tellin' yer 'bout old Mendez being a Mexican
revolutionary leader down in Mex, wa'n't he? Hell of a leader he is!
I reckon he's been mixed up in scrapes enough down thar, but they had
migh