The women were directed to continue on to the ranger-camp; Pedro,
mounted behind one of the men, should go with us. We needed him for
purposes of _identification_.
We were about to move forward, when a figure appeared along the road in
the direction we were going to take. On coming within sight of us, the
figure was seen to skulk and hide in the bushes.
Rube and Garey ran rapidly forward; and in a few minutes returned
bringing with them a Mexican youth--another of the victims!
He had left the scene of his sufferings somewhat later than the rest.
Was the guerrilla still in the place?
No; they were gone from the village.
"Whither?" was the anxious interrogatory.
They had taken the up-river road, _towards the hacienda de Vargas_.
They had passed the boy as he lay concealed among some magueys; he had
heard their cries as they rushed past.
"What cries?"
They shouted: "_Mueran al traidor y traidora! Mueran al padre y hija!
Isolina la p-t-a_!"
"O merciful God!"