predicament. That day they had fought the Empire. Then
they had turned and fought the Republic in the person of the guerrilla
chief, Rodrigo Galan. They had rebelled against the rebels, so were
doubly rebel, doubly outlawed. Ye gods, it _was_ bizarre! And as
morning dawned on them trailing along a dreary inferno gorge of the
Sierra Gorda, they blinked at each other ruefully. Poor waifs, they had
lost their native country. And now, one rainy morning, they found they
had lost an adopted one. But each man looked into a face likewise so
rueful that his own broke into a grin.

"We'll just start a _new_ country," cried Driscoll abruptly.

His voice sounded strange and very unlike him, but the inspiration was
characteristic of the man, and true to the old irrepressible Storm
Centre they had known. Hunted outlaws, they too were in the mood for any
desperate venture. Spontaneous as wildfire, they seconded this one ere
they had asked a question. They never did ask "How?"

"A new country," roared Tall Mose, "but where?"

"And when?" Old Brothers and Sisters inquired gently.

"We'll start right after breakfast," their intrepid leader replied. "And
right here in Mexico. It's anybody's country yet, and we might as well
slice off a little private republic for ourselves."

"And won't we fight, by Jiminy!" drawled Cal Grinders, with Ozarkian
deliberation.

"And it don't matter whom we fight," Marmaduke added. "Let 'em show
themselves, Slim Max or Don Benito. We'll meet all comers."

That was the mood they were in, and they were in it to the chin. Submit
a wholesale fighting order, and they bid for it like neither bulls nor
bears, but like wolves.

"About taxation?" asked Clay of Carroll dubiously.

But as a good general, or as another Romulus, Driscoll had figured it
all out. His answer brought comfort.

"We'll not have any. We will levy on commerce, as republics have the
right to do."

"Then," said Carroll of Clay, "we'll need a seaport?"

"Of course. Ain't Tampico simply waiting for us? The French aren't there
now. They are concentrating in Mexico City for evacuation. There's no
more of a garrison than what Old Tige left, a few hundred Cossacks. If
we get there before the Liberals----" ...

... And why not? They were nearly five hundred and greater than Romulus.
They were Missourians, sir. They were from that State which gave the
best fighters to both sides; which, population considered, gave more to
the North than an