ADRIAN HAS AN ACCIDENT.
"What do you suppose that means?" asked Adrian.
Mr. Black made no reply and a moment later the bugle call was
repeated.
"It sounds to me," said Mr. Black, "as though some fresh troops
were coming in."
"That's bad," was Adrian's comment.
"Perhaps not, my lad, if we act quickly."
"How so?"
"The new arrivals may take up the attention of the gang of
bandits outside and we may get away ere they return."
"Good," was Adrian's comment. "Where is Miss Josie?"
"Waiting in the next room with the family of my host."
Mr. Black stepped to the door and called to those within. In a
few words he explained the situation and in less than three
minutes he and the girl were mounted and ready to ride.
"Where is your horse?" he asked Adrian.
"I left it with the boys at the cocoanut grove."
"But we can't go and leave you here."
"Of course not. I shall run alongside of your horse, holding to
its mane, Indian fashion. Now then, are we ready?"
"All ready!"
The great gate was opened noiselessly and, bidding a subdued
good-bye to the family, the three passed out into the night.
"I should have throttled José ere I left," declared Mr. Black as
they passed down the street.
"I wish we were as safe as he is," laughed Adrian.
For three blocks they wended their way as silently as possible
and just as they came out into the open there came another bugle
call.
"That's for us," said Adrian. "There is no mistaking that
command. Now to run for it."
The two riders put spurs to their horses and Adrian bounded along
at their side, running as lightly as an antelope. They were
rapidly nearing the spot where the Americans were in waiting,
when Adrian stepped into a hole and pitched forward onto his
face.
"Don't stop for me!" he called. "I'll be there as quick as you
are!"
He picked himself up and started to run, but his ankle gave him
such a pain that he almost fainted.
"Great Scott!" he exclaimed, "I've sprained my ankle."
He sat down and rubbed the maimed member for a couple of minutes
and then attempted to hobble on. It was more than he could bear
and he sat down again.
"By George," he groaned, "this is tough! I'll have to call for
help."
He gave the well-known whistle, but there was no response.
He gave it again; but still no answer.
"Worse and more of it," he muttered. "Something has happened to
Billie."
What it might be Adrian could not imagine, but he was sure that
his chum was not at the appointed spot, as he was near enough to
have heard the whistle and would surely have answered.
"Well, I can't stay here. The greasers will be coming pretty
soon. I must get along some way."
He got up and walked a few steps and again sat down. There was no
sound of a pursuit and the hoofbeats of Mr. Black's horses had
ceased.
"They have reached the grove," Adrian muttered. "I must get there
some way."
Once more he arose to his feet and took several steps and then
sank down in a faint, so great was the pain.
When he came to himself he was lying upon a matting of some kind
and to his ears came the faint sound of a guitar, followed a few
moments later by sounds of girlish laughter.
He sat up and looked around, but could see nothing, except a ray
of light coming in through a little crack between a couple of
blankets that formed a curtain in a doorway.
"Where in the name of common sense am I?" he muttered.
He attempted to get to his feet, but the pain in his ankle
brought him quickly to himself.
"Now I remember!" he exclaimed. "I fell and sprained my ankle.
But how did I get here?"
He started to call, but at that moment the music ceased and a
minute later he heard voices saying good night. Then a door was
closed and immediately the curtains were thrown open and a peon
woman stood in the door.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, upon seeing Adrian sitting up and looking at
her. "Then you are not dead?"
"I should say not. Did you think I was?"
"I was afraid so."
"Why?"
"Because your death might be laid at my door."
"Evidently she hasn't discovered I am an American," thought
Adrian. "Well, I'll not tell her until I have to."
The woman turned around and called to some one in the other room
and another figure appeared in the door--that of a girl some
fifteen years of age.
"Look, Peppita," and the elder woman pointed at Adrian.
The girl gave a little scream.
"_Madre mia!_" she exclaimed. "Who is it?"
"I know not, my child. I found him unconscious at our back door
and dragged him inside."
"I beg your pardon," said Adrian. "I didn't know I was near any
house."
"It is a very poor one, señor. I and my daughter are all alone
since my poor Leocadio was killed."
"Who killed him?" asked Adrian, becoming interested.
"The Huertistas. He was a soldier under Gen. Dorantes."
"Is that so?" exclaimed Adrian. "I know Gen. Dorantes well. He is
a fine man. But you will soon be avenged, for Huerta's days are
short."
The woman's eyes snapped.
"_Es verdad?_" meaning, "Is it true?"
"It certainly is. Since the Americans have taken Vera Cruz, Gen.
Huerta will have to go. It is only a question of a few days."
"_Bienissimo!_ The Americans are brave men! My Leocadio was fond
of the Americans."
"I am glad of that, señora, for I am an American."
The woman and girl both started back as in fear and then came
forward again.
"How did you come here, señor?"
"I fell from a horse and sprained my ankle. I tried to walk and
must have fainted."
"Have you friends in Moreno?"
"I did have, but they have gone and I want to get to Vera Cruz."
"Vera Cruz is a long way, señor. I never expect to go that far
from home--me and my little Peppa."
Adrian smiled.
"I expect it does look like a long ways to you, señora; but it is
not far. Do you think I can stay here with you until my ankle is
well enough to walk? I have a little money. I will pay you
something."
"Oh, Mother!" exclaimed the girl, who now spoke for the first
time. "You will let him stay, won't you?"
"The wife of Leocadio would not turn a lame dog out, much less a
lame boy."
"_Mil gracias, señora!_" exclaimed Adrian, with much gratitude.
"Yes, more than a thousand thanks. You will never regret it."
"The wife of Leocadio is not learned," was the reply, "but she
knows an honest youth when she sees one. Come, Peppita, let the
young man go to sleep. We will make our bed out here."
She drew the curtains together and Adrian was left alone to his
own reflections.
"By George!" he exclaimed under his breath, "if I ever get out of
this measly country, I'll be glad. I wonder what has become of
Billie? Of course he'll look for me, and old Don, too; but it
looks as though it might be weeks before I could walk. Well, I
don't care. If Mr. Black and Josie got away, that's glory enough
for one day."
He settled himself down and tried to go to sleep, but his leg
hurt him so that he could not. In fact, the pain was so great
that every once in a while he groaned.
After a few of these groans the woman appeared in the door with
an earthen vessel filled with hot water.
"If the señor will bind this on his ankle, it will do it much
good," she said.
"I'll do anything to get rid of this pain," said Adrian.
He took the jar and, dipping his handkerchief in it, bathed his
ankle freely and finally bound the cloth around the swollen part.
"There," he muttered as he at last succeeded in finding a
comfortable position, "now I think I can get a little sleep."
How long thereafter it was before he came to himself he did not
know, but when he opened his eyes the first streak of daylight
was creeping in through a little window.
A minute later there was the rattle of musketry, followed by a
hearty American cheer. He raised up to look out of the window,
when the side of the room came in with a crash.