e must be played out; so, touching the flanks of my
horse, I rode forward to the edge of the verandah, and placed myself
_vis-a-vis_ with the Don.

"Are you Don Ramon de Vargas?"

"Si, senor," was the reply, in a tone of angry astonishment.

"I am an officer of the American army"--I spoke loud, and in Spanish, of
course, for the benefit of the peons and vaqueros. "I am sent to offer
you a contract to supply the army with beeves. I have here an order
from the general-in-chief--"

"I have no beeves for sale," interrupted Don Ramon, in a loud, indignant
voice; "I shall have nothing to do with the American army."

"Then, sir," retorted I, "I must take your beeves without your consent.
You shall be paid for them, but take them I must; my orders require that
I should do so. Moreover, your vaqueros must accompany us, and drive
the cattle to the American camp."

As I said this, I signalled to Holingsworth, who rode in with his
following; and then the whole troop, filing through the back gateway,
began to collect the frightened vaqueros, and set them about their work.

"I protest against this robbery!" shouted Don Ramon. "It is infamous--
contrary to the laws of civilised warfare. I shall appeal to my
government--to yours--I shall have redress."

"You shall have payment, Don Ramon," said I, apparently trying to pacify
him.

"Payment, _carrambo_!--payment from robbers, _filibusteros_--"

"Come, come, old gentleman!" cried Wheatley, who was only half behind
the scenes, and who spoke rather in earnest, "keep a good tongue in your
head, or you may lose something of more value to you than your cattle.
Remember whom you are talking to."

"_Tejanos! ladrones_!" hissed Don Ramon, with an earnest application of
the latter phrase that would certainly have brought Wheatley's revolver
from his belt, had I not, at the moment, whispered a word in the
lieutenant's ear.

"Hang the old rascal!" muttered he in reply to me. "I thought he _was_
in earnest. Look here, old fellow!" he continued, addressing himself to
Don Ramon, "don't you be scared about the dollars. Uncle Sam's a
liberal trader and a good paymaster. I wish your beef was mine, and I
had _his_ promise to pay for it. So take things a little easier, if you
please; and don't be so free of your `filibusteros' and `ladrones':
free-born Texans ain't used to such talk."

Don Ramon suddenly cut short the colloquy by angrily closing the
curtains, and hiding himself fr