A customer entered. Riego heard Lorente departing--heard the customer
inquire the price of a saddle, and go out.
It must be done _now_--now while Pascual was alone, and he could
speak to him! The next moment Riego stood before his brother.
"I heard you!" he cried. "Pascual, they _must not_!"
But Pascual laid a fierce hand upon his breast and pinned him to the
wall.
It was a terrible scene--that which followed--terrible in the tense
quiet of its enactment--terrible in its outcome!
With Riego pinned against the wall where he needs must listen, Pascual
poured forth such a torrent of abuse, of falsehood, against the
"gringos" that at length the old hate blood leapt in the younger boy's
veins and went beating through his brain.
The gringos were their enemies--_enemies_! The men who were coming
down upon them with the dawn were of their own blood, of their native
country! What if the invaders _were_ "revolutionists"? Were they not
_Mexican_? Talk of "loyalty"--one must be loyal to _one's own_!
When Pascual loosed his grip upon the slight form it was after he had
stirred to the very dregs all that was passionate, all that was
ignorant and prejudiced and violent, in the boy's nature.
That afternoon Riego did not report at Miss Arden's class, but long
after class hour he was obliged to pass her house on the mission to
deliver a mended harness to a farmer living near the American camp.
Miss Arden and her mother, Riego knew, were the only members of the
big captain's family. They lived in a large house in the woods,
half-way between the town and the camp. He knew also that the big
captain stayed in camp.
As Riego emerged from the long stretch of lonely woods which separated
Miss Arden's house from the town, and as he faced the other long
stretch of woods which lay between him and the camp, the boy was
struck by the isolation of the senorita's home.
He reflected, however, that Alva's men were to attack the gringo
soldiers by way of the ford, and that the ford lay to the right
yonder, far out of connection with the captain's house. He was
glad--glad that Alva's men would not come that way!
Suddenly he spied the senorita herself. She was standing on the steps
of her father's home. Riego's heart bounded within him at sight of
her. He pulled down his hat and hoped to pass unrecognized, but the
sweet, familiar voice called:
"Riego!"
He did not answer.
Then she ran down the steps to him, and put her gentle hands upon him,
turning him to her against his will.
"What is the matter, Riego?" she asked.
No answer.
"You didn't come to class this afternoon."
No answer.
"I'm sorry," she said, after a moment of silence in which she looked
searchingly into his face, "because we had an interesting lesson
to-day. It was all about what one ought to do in case one should be
forced to _choose between_ the old land and the new."
The boy gave a swift, upward glance at her, then dropped his eyes to the
ground again. Miss Arden continued, and her voice was very serious now:
"And we decided, Riego, that one ought to think out carefully which
country was really the better, and be true to that, because there is a
higher duty than that to party or country, and that is--to the
principles of justice and freedom."
Riego's head sank lower. The Beautiful One took one of his brown hands
into her own.
"And we said"--was she looking into the dark heart of him?--"that
whichever way one chose, one should choose _openly_. Now this little
brown hand could never----"
But the little brown hand was snatched away, and with a great sob the
child fled into the woods.
When at last that night Riego did fall asleep he dreamed that his
beautiful America came to him with her white arms held out in appeal,
and that he slipped a dagger out of his bosom and stabbed her to the
heart.
He started, awake, and sat up. It was black dark.
_Had Alva struck already? Or was there yet time?_
Ten feet away was Pascual's cot--he must not wake Pascual! As still as
death he slipped out of his bed, pulled on his overalls that he had
hung near, and crept out into the moonless night.
Riego could not think--it was all so desperate! He could only respond
to the heart that was in him, and creep forward through the dark. But
his feet knew the road that he took, though his brain was reeling. He
was going straight to the one who had wakened the new loyalty in
him--his beautiful America!
"I pledge allegiance to my flag and to the republic for which it
stands," went surging through him as he struggled on.
Riego was not grandly heroic; he was only a frightened little boy, but
determined now to do his loyal best for the country that had sheltered
him from oppression. And so, though the treacherous sands might seek
to drag him down, though the dark chaparral yonder might hide--any
fearsome thing!--Riego went forward.
And now the house of the big captain loomed black before him. Riego
stole up the front steps. He knew behind which of the long, closed
windows the senorita slept, and he approached and tapped fearfully
upon it.
It was a frightened voice that called: "Who is _that_?"
Riego was not conscious how he answered, but he knew that a wave of
relief flowed over him when the blind of the long window opened and he
was drawn into the dark room by a pair of familiar hands.
The blind was closed after him and a light was struck.
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!"
[Illustration: "Riego Yanez," he said. "I am proud to shake hands with
an American hero!"]
"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.
The Scribner Series of School Reading
A Uniform Series for Supplementary Reading in Schools. Each, 12mo,
_net_, *$0.50.
Hero Tales Told in School. By JAMES BALDWIN. Illustrated.
Herakles, the Hero of Thebes, and Other Heroes of the Myth. By
MARY E. BURT and ZENAIDE RAGEZIN. Illustrated.
Odysseus: The Hero of Ithaca. By MARY E. BURT. Illustrated.
The Boy General. By Mrs. GEORGE A. CUSTER and MARY E. BURT.
Illustrated.
Don Quixote De La Mancha. By MIGUEL DE CERVANTES. From the
translations of Duffield and Shelton. By MARY E. BURT and LUCY
LEFFINGWELL CABLE.
The Cable Story Book. Selections for School Reading. By GEORGE W.
CABLE. Edited by MARY E. BURT and LUCY L. CABLE. Illustrated.
The Hoosier School Boy. By EDWARD EGGLESTON. Illustrated.
The Eugene Field Book. Verses, Stories, and Letters for School
Reading. By EUGENE FIELD. Edited by MARY E. BURT and MARY L.
CABLE. With an Introduction by GEORGE W. CABLE. Illustrated.
The Howells Story Book. By WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS. Selected and
arranged by MARY E. BURT. Illustrated by MISS HOWELLS.
The Lanier Book. Selections for School Reading. By SIDNEY LANIER.
Edited and arranged By MARY E. BURT, in co-operation with Mrs.
LANIER. Illustrated.
The Page Story Book. Selections for School Reading by THOMAS
NELSON PAGE. Edited by FRANK E. SPALDING and CATHERINE T. BRYCE.
Poems of American Patriotism. Chosen by BRANDER MATTHEWS.
Some Merry Adventures of Robin Hood. By HOWARD PYLE. Illustrated
by the Author.
The Roosevelt Book. Selections from the writings of Theodore
Roosevelt, with an introduction by ROBERT BRIDGES. Illustrated.
A Child's Garden of Verses. By ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON. Illustrated.
Krag and Johnny Bear. Being the Personal Histories of Krag, Randy,
Johnny Bear, and Chink. By ERNEST THOMPSON SETON. Illustrated.
Lobo, Rag, and Vixen. Selections from "Wild Animals I Have Known."
By ERNEST THOMPSON SETON. With 4 full-page and many other
illustrations from drawings by the Author.
Twelve Naval Captains. With portraits. By MOLLY ELLIOTT SEAWELL.
Fanciful Tales. By FRANK R. STOCKTON. Edited by JULIA E.
LANGWORTHY. Illustrated.
Around the World in the Sloop Spray. By Captain JOSHUA SLOCUM.
Illustrated.
The van Dyke Book. Selections for School Reading. By HENRY VAN
DYKE. Edited and arranged by Professor EDWIN MIMS, with
Biographical Sketch by MISS VAN DYKE. Illustrated.
Children's Stories of American Literature, 1660-1860. By HENRIETTA
CHRISTIAN WRIGHT.
Children's Stories of American Literature, 1860-1896. By HENRIETTA
CHRISTIAN WRIGHT.
Children's Stories in American History. By HENRIETTA CHRISTIAN
WRIGHT.
Children's Stories in American Progress. By HENRIETTA CHRISTIAN
WRIGHT.
Transcriber's Note
* Punctuation errors have been corrected.