A MAN OF HIS WORD.
"Is this General Villa?" Rob asked.
The man on the horse gave the scouts a scrutinizing look, and then
frowned. Possibly he recognized the khaki uniforms that he had become
accustomed to seeing United States regulars wear; and thus discovering
them far down on the sacred soil of Mexico, he was angered more or less.
When Rob saw that frown he began to fear that he and his chums might not
have as smooth sailing as they had anticipated, unless something were
done immediately to interest the general in their favor.
Accordingly Rob's next move was to hold up his hand, on a finger of
which he had made sure to slip that queer-looking ring which Uncle Mark
had seemed to believe possessed all the magic powers attributed to like
rings in fairy stories.
Sure enough, no sooner had the quick glance of the general fallen on
the ring than he started and looked at it more closely. Then, as an
expression of intense interest flashed across his dark face, he beckoned
to the scouts to draw nearer.
"Where did you get that ring, boy?" he demanded. "And who are you?"
"We belong to the Boy Scout organization, General," replied Rob soberly;
"and have come several thousand miles just to meet you and show you this
ring. You once put it on the finger of the man who saved your life,
telling him that you would stand ready to do what you could for the one
who presented it to you. That man was Dr. Mark Matthews, and this boy,
here, is his nephew. Dr. Mark has recently got back from more than a
year in Africa, where he was taken down with the terrible jungle fever,
and is in a very bad way at the home of my friend, here. He has nothing
left of his once large fortune except the property in Chihuahua--his
cattle ranch, and the prize stock on it. And, General, he begs you to do
what you can to dispose of the cattle, and send him the money by us. I
have a letter in my coat that will explain all to you when you have more
time to read it. But we only wanted to let you know that we hadn't come
into Mexico to mix up in the war that is going on here. And your captain
will tell you that all we did was to take care of his wounded as fast as
they were hurt."
"Yes, I have already heard that Americans who were on the ground had
done that; but little did I expect to learn that they were boys," the
general went on to say, as he looked still more keenly at them. But Rob
noticed that the scowl had now disappeared entirely from his strong
features. That ring had doubtless aroused memories of the days when he
was a hunted man with a price on his head, and of Dr. Mark Matthews, who
had sheltered him while attending to his severe wounds.
"Do you think there is any chance of Dr. Matthews getting paid for his
cattle, General?" asked Tubby, emboldened to chime in by the fact that
it was a family affair.
Something like a look of pride and deep satisfaction appeared on the
rebel leader's face, as he answered this question.
"Why not, when for months I have had armed guards watching the ranch, so
that none of the stock could be stolen? But it could not last, and even
to-day I was considering making use of the herds for my army, and
settling with the owner when he came to put in a claim. Make yourselves
at home with my men, for depend on it, you have not come all this way to
have Pancho Villa redeem his sacred promise without reward. I am too
busy now to speak further; but later on be sure to hand me the letter
from my old and true friend, Dr. Matthews."
He urged his horse on and left the four scouts staring hard at each
other with happy grins stealing over their faces.
"Looks mighty good to me!" commented Andy.
"Greatest thing that ever came down the pike!" exclaimed the delighted
Tubby. And if a face that looked as beaming as a full moon might be
taken as any indication of how the fat scout felt, he was certainly
happy.
"It seems now as if we might go back with something to show for all our
work, that's a fact," Merritt added.
"He did as much as say that he meant to take the cattle himself so as to
feed his army and that he'd see you got good pay for them, all right,
Tubby," Rob observed. "So it looks as though luck might be camping on
our trail."
"And then, just think of all we've seen on this trip," added Andy. "A
real battle on Mexican soil, with eight or ten rebels needing the
assistance of the Boy Scout field hospital to keep them from bleeding to
death! Am I sorry I came? Well, don't you believe it! Though I did want
to take just a single crack at some of those crawlers up on the
mountain, only Rob wouldn't hear of it!"
"Yes," Tubby said, with a sigh that seemed to well up from the very
bottom of his heart, "I'll be pleased when this ride is over;
because--well, I've got good reasons for thinking I'll be happier at
home again. Fact is, I'm all hooped up astraddling that big plug you got
for me, Rob. Makes me think of the bow-legged floor walker who waddled
up to a lady entering the store, and said: 'Silks? Certainly, madam;
walk this way, please,' and then ambled off. They say she nearly
fainted, and complained to the management that she had been insulted. I
expect to 'walk that way' for some time yet, till I get my proper shape
back again."
"Oh! you'll be able to take it easy after this, Tubby," Merritt assured
him.
"Yes," Rob added, "chances are that we'll be able to ride with General
Villa all the way back to Juarez, where he seems to be bound right now.
If they manage to get the engine of this train working again you might
ride aboard if you don't feel like keeping to the saddle with the rest
of us, Tubby."
"Didn't you notice that when he said so pompously that he'd pay for the
cattle of his good friend Dr. Matthews, he slapped the side of his coat,
as though he might have a pocket chuck full of greenbacks?" Tubby asked
them.
"That's right, he did," assented Andy; "but let me warn you, brother, if
it turns out to be rebel currency, don't you take it. And I'd likewise
fight shy of real Mexican paper money; because if the other side wins,
it won't be worth the paper it's printed on. Make him shell out in
American cash or English coin stuff, but no pesos, Tubby."
"I'll be smart enough for that, and don't you forget it, Andy; thanking
you for the tip all the same," the fat scout replied, nodding his head
with the air of a shrewd business man who is about to make a big
bargain, and does not mean to be over-reached by sharp practice.
The boys readily saw that Villa was what Andy called a "hustler," for
he soon had men busy examining the engine of the stalled train; and from
the way in which they went to work it became evident that they must be
mechanics accustomed to machinery.
"What's the good word, Lopez?" Andy called out, as the Mexican guide was
hurrying past, possibly on an errand for the general, whom he appeared
proud to serve. "Is there any chance that the old heap of junk that
stands for an engine on this road these days will ever puff again and
pull a train?"
"Si, señor, and before many hours have passed at that," came the
reassuring reply, accompanied with a smirk and a shrug of the shoulders.
"General Villa he has brought order out of chaos, and these wretched
people who are heading for Juarez may soon be on their way. Most of them
have already paid a heavy tribute to the rebel commanders for the
privilege of leaving Chihuahua, and they have just been shouting bravos
because the General assured them all would soon be well."
"He's a smart, wide-awake man, all right," asserted Tubby, who of course
felt drawn toward the rebel chieftain. Had not General Villa called
them "_amigos_," and was he not already pledged to purchase the herds of
Uncle Mark's abandoned cattle ranch in Chihuahua State at the fairest
possible price?
"Now I understand why some of these people hated to leave the cars, even
when told that it was dangerous to stay," said Rob. "They are fleeing
across to Texas, and carrying a lot of valuables with them, meaning to
keep out of Mexico as long as the rival factions are fighting and
destroying property everywhere. When the Federals find any one whose
sympathies are with the other side they run off his stock, seize him,
and make him pay all the tribute possible in order to spare his life. On
the other hand, the rebels do just the same thing with all the wealthy
people of Chihuahua who are believed to be for Huerta and his
government. Why, they say that the Terrazas family own half the State,
mines, ranches and all! But Villa has seized the whole thing, and will
sell to any buyer. I heard it said an American syndicate had already
offered him six million dollars for the lot; which was taking big
chances of the success of this uprising."
"Perhaps that is where he is getting the money he expects to pay Uncle
Mark," suggested Tubby. "If it is in American bills, I'll believe so,
too."
"Oh, they're taking in stacks and stacks of money, I heard one man say
up in El Paso," Merritt remarked. "Ever since the rebels have come into
possession of Chihuahua City they have squeezed the rich, taken
possession of all kinds of paying businesses, like banks, laundries and
groceries, started working the mines and getting the crude gold and
silver to make into bullion; and altogether milked the cow like good
fellows. They use this money to pay their soldiers, buy arms and get
them across on the sly, and ditto ammunition. If our Government ever
lets the rebels buy openly, there'll be big business along the Rio
Grande, because they're taking in plenty of hard cash."
"But what d'ye reckon they'll do with that miserable lot of prisoners
coming this way now, in charge of guards?" Andy asked. All of them
glanced with a feeling akin to pity at the four men who, with drooping
heads, were marching past, half a dozen armed rebels accompanying them.
"Well, there's so much bitterness shown between the Federals and the
rebels nowadays," Rob said, "that I wouldn't be a bit surprised if they
stood each one of those poor fellows up against a rock and gave him a
volley! It costs money to feed prisoners, and what's the use bothering?
That seems to be the motto of these men, who are not brought up to
civilized methods of fighting. Anyhow, I'd hate to stand in the shoes of
any one of that bunch, let me tell you."
"They seem to know just what's going to happen to them pretty soon,"
continued Andy. "You can see how they hang their heads and walk along as
if they didn't care a snap whether school kept or not. I guess you hit
the nail right on the head when you said what you did, Rob! Perhaps
they're on the way to execution now!"
"Whew!" gasped Tubby, a look of pity crossing his good-natured face, "if
that's so I mean to stick my fingers in my ears so I won't hear the
volley. Why, it would be sure to haunt me all the years of my happy
natural life. Poor fellers! I'd like to put in a word for the lot with
Villa; but I'm afraid he wouldn't stand for our meddling with his
business; and it might queer my other game, too, which I'd hate to have
broken up."
"Hello! what does this mean, boys?" suddenly exclaimed Andy.
One of the four dejected-looking prisoners, at sound of the boys'
voices, had raised his head. They had a glimpse of a dirty face and
streaming hair. Even as they stared, this fellow broke out of the line,
sprang forward toward the four Boy Scouts, and throwing himself down on
his knees in front of them, clasped his hands convulsively together, as
he almost shrieked:
"Save me, Rob Blake. Oh! don't let them shoot me! I'll promise anything
if only you get me off with your friend, General Villa! Oh! Rob, help
me, please!"