s, with his serape and his ventilated
sombrero, face as brown as a berry, would be sufficient proof to
exonerate Culvera of the charge of having shot an American. Steve had
made up too well for the part. At worst Culvera could plead a
regrettable mistake.

"You make out a good case against Pedro Cabenza, general," admitted the
condemned man evenly. "Good enough. We'll put him in the discard. I
suppose you won't deny that Threewit and Farrar and Miss Seymour are
Americans."

With a confidential grin Ramon nodded. "You've put your finger on the
pulse of my difficulty. You see, I talk to you frankly because I have
the best of reasons for knowing you will never betray me. No doubt you
recall your proverb about dead men telling tales. Just so. Well, I don't
know what the devil to do with your friends Farrar and Threewit. I have
nothing against them, but if I send them home they will talk. Would it
be best, do you think, to arrange an accident for them while on the way
back to Arizona?"

"Not at all. I'll make a written confession, and they can sign it as
witnesses, that I plotted against Pasquale and was implicated in his
murder. That will let you out nicely, general. Then you can send them
home, and the young lady in their care. So you will even scores with me
quite safely to yourself."

The Mexican commander looked steadily out of the window at a dog
scratching himself in the street. "I don't recall mentioning the young
lady. Her future is arranged."

The temples of the cowpuncher throbbed. He pretended to misunderstand
the meaning of the other man. "Of course. I understand that you can do
nothing else but send her home. The one thing that would bring our army
across the line on the jump would be for you to hurt a hair of this
girl's head. You could kill a dozen men and get away with it quicker
than you could to insult one little girl. But, of course, you know
that."

The fingers of Culvera drummed absently on the table. "I think the
senorita and I will be able to adjust the matter without any help from
you. If you have any last messages for her I'll be glad to carry them,
since I expect to see her this evening."

Steve had disdained to beg for himself, but now he begged for the girl
he loved.

"You're a man, Ramon Culvera. Nobody ever claimed there is any yellow in
you. Your father was a gentleman and so is his son. You fight with men
and not with timid girls. You wouldn't do this girl dirt because she is
alon