receipts, he
whined. Then the robber chief had scowled with the brow of Jove, and
hurled dreadful oaths. "You pay an Imperialista!" he stormed in lofty
indignation. "You give funds to put down your struggling, starving
compatriots! So, senor, this is the love you bear your country!"

It was a touching harangue, and the remorse-stricken trader ever after
denied that he even saw Don Tiburcio, at which times a queer smile would
supplant Don Rodrigo's black frown.

It was this same Don Rodrigo who had been reported as slain by
Jacqueline's Fra Diavolo. But Driscoll, not having heard of his death,
was quite ready to expect more brigands. He insisted, therefore, on
changing trails.

"The Senor Coronel is most valiant," sneered Murguia.

"So darned much so, Murgie, that I want to dodge 'em."

But his struggle against temptation was evident. He glanced back at the
two women and again denounced the unfamiliar feminine element in men's
affairs. To avoid the brigandage encounter took more of manhood than Don
Anastasio might imagine in a lifetime.

But they had not followed their new route five minutes before Murguia
was again at the trooper's side. An "I-told-you-so" smirk hovered on his
pinched visage. "Segundino has gone," he announced.

"So Segundino has gone?" Driscoll repeated. "Well, and who's Segundino?"

"He's one of my muleteers, but now I know he is a spy too. He will tell
the bri--if there are brigands--where to meet us." Murguia was thinking,
too, of their reproachful increase on collection charges for the extra
trouble.

"Then," said Driscoll, "we'll go back to our old trail," which they did
at once. Soon after he was not surprised to hear from Murguia that "this
time it was Juan who had disappeared."

"Didn't I tell you to set a close watch?"

"Y-e-s, but what was the use? He slipped into the brush, and," the
trader complained, "I can't spare any more drivers."

"Don't need to. We'll just keep this trail now."

CHAPTER X

THE BRIGAND CHIEF

"Don Rodrigo de Vivar,
Rapaz, orgulloso, y vano."
--_El Cid._

Imagine an abnormally virtuous urchin and an abnormally kindly farmer.
The urchin resolutely turns his back on the farmer's melon patch, though
there is no end of opportunity. But the farmer catches him, brings him
in by the ear, makes him choose a big one, and leaves him there, the
sole judge of his own capacity. Driscoll had tried to dodge a fight, but
Fate was hi