ing."

As Billy turned and walked in the direction that the soldiers had led
Bridge and Miguel, Pesita beckoned to a soldier who leaned upon his gun
at a short distance from his "general"--a barefooted, slovenly attempt
at a headquarters orderly.

"Send Captain Rozales to me," directed Pesita.

The soldier shuffled away to where a little circle of men in
wide-brimmed, metal-encrusted hats squatted in the shade of a tree,
chatting, laughing, and rolling cigarettes. He saluted one of these and
delivered his message, whereupon the tall, gaunt Captain Rozales arose
and came over to Pesita.

"The big one who was brought in today is not a gringo," said Pesita, by
way of opening the conversation. "He is from Granavenoo. He can be of
great service to us, for he is very friendly with the Germans--yet he
looks like a gringo and could pass for one. We can utilize him. Also he
is very large and appears to be equally strong. He should make a good
fighter and we have none too many. I have made him a captain."

Rozales grinned. Already among Pesita's following of a hundred men there
were fifteen captains.

"Where is Granavenoo?" asked Rozales.

"You mean to say, my dear captain," exclaimed Pesita, "that a man of
your education does not know where Granavenoo is? I am surprised. Why,
it is a German colony."

"Yes, of course. I recall it well now. For the moment it had slipped my
mind. My grandfather who was a great traveler was there many times. I
have heard him speak of it often."

"But I did not summon you that we might discuss European geography,"
interrupted Pesita. "I sent for you to tell you that the stranger would
not consent to serve me unless I liberated his friend, the gringo, and
that sneaking spy of a Miguel. I was forced to yield, for we can use the
stranger. So I have promised, my dear captain, that I shall send them
upon their road with a safe escort in the morning, and you shall command
the guard. Upon your life respect my promise, Rozales; but if some of
Villa's cutthroats should fall upon you, and in the battle, while you
were trying to defend the gringo and Miguel, both should be slain by the
bullets of the Villistas--ah, but it would be deplorable, Rozales, but
it would not be your fault. Who, indeed, could blame you who had fought
well and risked your men and yourself in the performance of your sacred
duty? Rozales, should such a thing occur what could I do in token of my
great pleasure other than make yo