erado was forming in the man--desperado, as contrast to polite
conventions. Desperado, as primitive man, who hews straight, cutting
whom or what he might, cutting first of all through the veneered bark of
civilization. For this reason, in this sense, he might be termed outlaw.
And walking up and down, up and down, he hewed till he had laid bare the
core of the matter. And he saw it naked, without the polish. Thereupon
he knew what he was going to do.

He saddled Demijohn, and Demijohn followed at his shoulder to the
jefetura. Here, at the entrance, under the brick-red portales, Driscoll
left the horse, untied, and opened the door and passed within.

The jefetura, or prefecture, was at present the headquarters of the
command, and in the long front room were assembled a number of officers,
including Ney and Tiburcio, besides the jefe of the place and several
town magistrates, all chatting with Colonel Mendez about the recent
victory. They greeted the American cordially, and poured out tequila for
him. He had done as much as any to win the fight. Michel laid a hand on
his shoulder.

"Monsieur," he said with mock formality, "to-day, when you permitted
yourself to save my skin, you called me a fool. But I would have you
observe, monsieur, that only my patron divinity, the god of fools, is
permitted to know so much."

Driscoll loosed himself from the affectionate grip, and turned to
Mendez.

"Colonel," he said, "I'm going to get out of this."

"_What?_ Oh come, mi capitan, find a better one!"

"It's not a joke, sir. Profiting by a commission that does not bind me,
I am here to tell you good-bye."

"Jean, mon ami!" Ney cried in protest.

Don Tiburcio waited with keen appreciation, as he always did when the
unexpectedness of this Gringo was unfolding. The others stared agape at
the man between them and the door. Mendez saw too that he was in
earnest, and he began to argue, almost to entreat. The Mexican leader
had lost the quality of mercy in civil wars that had touched him
cruelly, that had exacted many near to him, but there was sincerity in
the man, and men were won by the stirring sound of his voice.

"You would retire now," he exclaimed, "now, when every soul here may
look for promotion, and none of them more than you, Senor Dreescol?"

But he did not stop there. He conjured up a tempting vista of long and
honored life under an empire that was now supreme. Even the scum of
rebellion yet left on the calm surfac