ping toward them. Regules's sharp eyes caught the glint of the
stranger's white gold-bordered sombrero, and with a large Castilian oath
he plucked out his revolver. Driscoll touched his arm soothingly.

"But, Maria purisima," cried Regules, "he's an Explorador!"

The Exploradores were Mendez's scouts, his bloodhounds for a Republican
trail, and the most hated of all that breed.

"Aye, Senor General," the stranger now spoke, "I was even the capitan of
Exploradores, who kisses Your Mercy's hand."

There was a familiar quality in the man's half chuckle, and Driscoll
hastily struck a match. In its light a face grew before him, and a pair
of malevolent eyes, one of them crossed and beaming recognition, met
his.

"Well, Tibby?" said Driscoll quietly.

"First your pistols, then what you know," commanded Regules. "Here, in
between us. Talk as we ride, or----"

Don Tiburcio complied. Such had been his intention.

"I am no more a loyal Imperialist," he announced, with a gruesome
contortion of the mouth.

"Nor a live deserter for long," said Regules. "Quick, what's the news at
Queretero?"

"Carrai, my news and more will jolt out if I open my mouth. Eh, mi
coronel," he added to Driscoll, "you've taught this barbarous gait to
the Republic too, I see?"

"Better obey orders," Driscoll warned him gently.

"But there's no need of hurry, senores. Not now, there isn't."

"You mean the Imperialists have whipped Escobedo, that----"

"Not so fast, mi general. If they had, wouldn't I want you to hurry, for
then there'd be a conquering Empire waiting for you?"

"Colonel Driscoll," said Regules, "fall back a step. I'm going to kill
this fellow now."

"As you wish, general. But he's got something to tell."

"Then por Dios, why doesn't he?"

"Yes, Tibby, why don't you?"

Don Tiburcio cocked a puzzled head toward the American. He had not known
such softness of voice in Mendez's former captain of Lancers. But he saw
that Driscoll had drawn his pistol, which accorded so grimly with the
mildness of his tone that the scout chuckled in delight and admiration.

"You know that I'll tell--now," he said reproachfully. "In a word,
there's been no battle at all, curse him, curse both----"

"No battle! Escobedo kept away then?"

"No, not even that. The Imperialists would not fight, and the Empire has
lost its last chance. Curse them both, curse----"

"Well, curse away, but who, what?"

"I curse, senores mios," and the scout's wor