a Northern.

CHAPTER 11. "STONE WALLS DO NOT A PRISON MAKE."

The two young Spanish aristocrats rode in advance of the convoy on the
return trip, while O'Halloran and Bucky brought up the rear. The roads
were too rough to permit of rapid travel, but the teams were pushed as
fast as it could safely be done in the dark. It was necessary to get
into the city before daybreak, and also before word reached Megales of
the coup his enemies had made. O'Halloran calculated that this could be
done, but he did not want to run his margin of time too fine.

"When the governor finds we have recaptured the arms, will he not have
all your leaders arrested today and thrown into the prison?" asked the
ranger.

"He will--if he can lay hands on them. But he had better catch his hare
before he cooks it. I'm thinking that none of us will be at home to-day
when his men come with a polite invitation to go along with them."

"Then he'll spend all day strengthening his position. With this warning
he will be a fool if he can't make himself secure before night, when the
army is on his side."

"Oh, the army is on his side, is it? Now, what would you say if most
of the officers were ready to come over to us as soon as we declare
ourselves? And ye speak of strengthening his position. The beauty of his
position, me lad, from our point of view, is that he doesn't know his
weak places. He'll be the most undeceived man in the State when the test
comes--unless something goes wrong."

"When do you propose to attack the prison?"

"To-night. To-morrow is election day, and we want all the byes we can on
hand to help us out."

"Do you expect to throw the prison doors wide open--let every scoundrel
in Chihuahua loose on the public."

"We couldn't do that, since half of them are loose already," retorted
O'Halloran dryly. "And as for the rest--we expect to make a selection,
me son, to weed out a few choice ruffians and keep them behind the
bars. But if ye know anything about the prisons of this country, you're
informed, sir, that half the poor fellows behind bars don't belong there
so much as the folk that put them there. I'm Irish, as ye are yourself,
and it's me instinct to fight for the under dog. Why shouldn't the
lads rotting behind those walls have another chance at the game? By
the mother of Moses! they shall, if Mike O'Halloran has anything to say
about it."

"You ce'tainly conduct your lawful elections in a beautifully lawless
way," grin