Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1914-09-18

arroyo and he viii find n hobbled on
the fat Then give me your receipt
for two hundred dollars gold and l
will contribute a saddle"
1t was a reasonable concession. IN
der the circumstances, and, best of all,
it saved the generals face. The hid
eous frown with which he had regard
ed the American changed suddenly to
a look of pompous pride. He Jerked
an imperious head at his ragged re
tainer and drew forth his receipt-book
with a flourish.
While he waited for the horse to ap-
pear he turned upon his shopping men
and drove them to their mounts with
curses. Evidently it was no sinecure
to command in the army of the liber-
alton, and the yelled mutterings of
his followers showed that they we're
little better than tigers in leash.
Mounted upon horses, mules, and
even burros; armed with every con-
ceivable weapon from a musket to
standard repeating rifles, they were a
tatterdemalions army, more fit for
l4CdoOn, AlldlaSGdno dnQ oUOl6 LAUl
the sterner duties of war.
Bud looked them wei closely, well
satisfied to have his back against a
wall, and when the low-browed re-
tainer came h%urrying back with the
horse he quickly took the worthless
receipt and watched them on their
way. Then. as the last camp-follower
disappeared, he ran for his saddle and
rife and within a minute he was
mounted and away.
There were rebels below him-very
likely there were more to come-the
only safe place for Copper Bottom
was over the hills at Fortuna. With
out stopping for path or trail, he head
ed straight northwest over the ridges,
riding as the cowboys do when they
rake the range for cattle. Hardly had
he topped the first high crest when
he came in sight of Amigo, loaded
down with his cartridge-belts and car
rying his heavy Mauser.
In a long, shambling trot the Yaqui
was drifting along the hillside with
the free grace of a wild creature, and
when Hooker pulled down his horse
to keep pace with him he laughed and
motioned him on. Taking the lead, he
Hoped on over hogback and barranca,
picking out the best trail by instinct
and setting such a pace that Bud was
hard pressed to keep up with him.
He had heard it said that in the
Yaqui country no white man, no mat
ter how well he was mounted, could
outdistance the Indians on foot, and
now he knew It was true. But why
go? He had neither friends nor kin
in town; why. then, should he run SO
fast to warn them of the enemy?
They racked on. up one hill and
down another, while the in~surrectos
followed the canyon that swung to the
south, and finally, in a last scramble,
they mounted a rocky ridge and
looked down upon old Fortuna.
Already the hard-driven poems were
out in the fields at work and smoke
was rising FROM the m6scaT sf1n. Ara
gon was busy, but his labors would be
worse than wasted If the red-fiaggers
took him prisoner. AS Bud breathed
his horse he nesitated whether to ride
back and warn him or press on and
notify Fortuna; but even for that
brief spell the Yaqui could not wait.
"Adios," he said, coming close and
holding out his black hand; Il go this
way!" And he pointed along the ridge.
But why? 7" said Bud, still at a loss
to account for his haste. Then, seeing
the r%eticence in the Indians eyes, he
thrust out his hand in return.
"Adios, Amigo mio!" he replied, and
with a quick grip the Yaqui was gone.
With that same deceptive speed he
shambled through the bushes, still lug
ging the heavy rifle and making for
higher ground. Bud knew he had
some purpose-he even had a sneak
ing idea that it was to take pot-shots
at Captain del Rey-but six months in
Mexico had made him careless, and he
half hoped the Yaqui would win.
The captain had it coming to him
for his brutality, but with Aragon it
was different-Aragon had a wife and