Chapter III: Part 3

The senorita's eyes were disclosed big and startled; her face was as white as the long robe she wore.

"What _is_ it, Riego?" she gasped.

"They are coming!" he whispered.

"Who?" she exclaimed, catching him by the shoulders, "_Who?_"

"Alva," the boy answered, "and three hundred with him. They are going to surprise--our soldiers--and kill them while they sleep!"

The senorita sprang to the telephone. She pulled down the lever many, many times, then she staggered back against the wall.

"They have cut the wires!" she cried. "Riego, you and I must take the warning!"

"To the camp?" the boy cried in dismay.

"Yes, there's no one within a mile of here that could take it but us!"

"But the Mexicans have spies over there," the boy moaned. "They will find us in the dark with their knives!"

She had flung on a long cloak, and was hurriedly fastening her shoes.

"Then you stay here and I'll go," she said.

"_You?_" cried the startled child--then--"It is dark out there, my lady; I'll go with you."

They extinguished the light and stole out together to the stable, but the horses were gone!

Desperate now, they started out afoot.

The treacherous sand again and the black dark! But they crept along together. Then suddenly the boy's courage gave way and he clung to the cloaked figure, sobbing:

"Senorita! Senorita! I am _afraid_!"

The senorita was trembling, too, and her voice broke as she whispered:

"You and I don't make very good heroes, do we?"

They had come to a standstill and were clinging together in the dark. Suddenly there was a sound of something approaching---the velvet tread of an unshod pony in the sand!

The rider passed.

When they breathed again the senorita took him strongly by the shoulders.

"Riego," she whispered--and there was no break in her voice now--"we must separate. One of us must go straight to the ford and warn the patrol, the other to camp."

"But it is near the ford that Pacheco is hiding," the boy replied.

"I'll go to the ford," she said simply.

"No, my lady, _I_ go--you take the news to camp." And before she could detain him the boy turned at a sharp angle and plunged into the deeper blackness of the chaparral.

* * * * *

A long nightmare intervened between their parting and the time when the half-dead boy clung to the saddle of the patrol and whispered to him:

"Keep to the open, senor; there are men with knives in the chaparral! Help is coming!"

Then, somehow, everything was blotted out for Riego.

When consciousness came again to the boy, the cool air of the dawn was choked with dust clouds till he could not see ten feet before him and his ears were nearly bursting with the thunder-beat of frantic hoofs. Dim horses were rearing and plunging against the reddening dawn. There were shouts and cries and firing! Firing!

Who was losing? Who was _winning_?

Dear God, Alva's men were sweeping back across the Rio Grande!

One little frightened boy had saved the day for the country that had given him refuge from oppression.

But what was that? A call for help? _Whose voice was that?_

Riego plunged into the thick of the dust cloud toward the cry, and dropped by Pascual's side. How could he have known that his brother would ride that night with the invaders!

But Pascual was striving to speak. Riego leaned over him and caught the whisper:

"Lorente shot me down to get my horse and escape!"

And now the gringos were circling round the wounded one--they would beat out his brains with their guns! But--but--why, they were lifting him up, and _tenderly_! The Americans were lifting up his wounded brother!

* * * * *

Many and bewildering were the things which happened to Riego in the next few hours. First, he and the all-but-dead Pascual were carried by the soldiers to the American camp. Then his brother was taken away from him and borne into a closed tent.

The soldiers gathered around Riego and patted him on the shoulder. They gave him many things--things to eat and coins and pocket-knives and tobacco-tags, all the while challenging him to smile--he whose captured brother was yonder!

Later the big captain sent for him and took him by the hand.

"Riego Yanez," he said, "I am proud to shake hands with an American hero!"

At length a tall soldier came to Riego and led him to the closed tent. But the tall soldier did not enter; he merely pushed the boy inside the tent and dropped the khaki flap.

Riego blinked his eyes. Somebody was lying stretched out on a cot, and somebody was fanning him--the Beautiful One and his brother! Riego crept toward her suddenly outstretched hands.

Then he leaned over Pascual. But Pascual's eyes were closed and on his face was a yellow pallor.

"The surgeon has taken out the ball," whispered the Beautiful One. "He will live, with good nursing, and I am on the job." She paused a moment, then asked, as she looked into his face with concern: "Aren't you happy, you tragic little soldier? Why don't you smile at the good news?"

"How--" began the child--and a strange, sick feeling swept over him--"how long before he will be well enough to be stood against a wall--and----"

"Why, you poor child!"--and the big tears sprang to the senorita's eyes--"your brother will not be stood against a wall and shot for treason--never--_never_! And he's not going to be shut up in prison, either!"

"But why, senorita? Why? The big captain knows that he was with Alva's men."

"He is young--just a boy," and the senorita laid a tender hand upon the head of the wounded lad. "He is the son of good parents and brother to---- Oh, you tragic little soldier, can't you guess who it is has saved your brother?"

"_You_, senorita?"

"_Yourself_, Riego. Because you have been heroically loyal they are to give your brother another chance. We Americans, Riego"--and her white hand closed upon his own to include him with her--"we Americans are going to nurse Pascual back to a better life and teach him how to be free!"

The sick lad stirred on his cot.

When the Beautiful One leaned over him in quick solicitude, he smiled.

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Transcriber's Note

* Punctuation errors have been corrected.

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