Evening star., 1914-11-08

bad temper and that his particular hatred
| and malice were centered on all the cursed
Gringos' and their hirelings. There wasn't
much in that conversation to make them
more cheerful or optimistic: but Wild Bob
grinned, showing his strong, white teeth and
winking now and then at his Indian admirer,
who squatted on his hams beside the door
Intel
"The insurrecto Captain returned at last,
and they knew by his face that part of their
hopes could be discounted. He curtly in
formed Wild Bob and the mine manager
that he had orders to take the loot. Un-
conditional surrender he said bombasti-
cally, swelling his chest, is what the Illus
| trious General demands
docs that include ourselves also!' queS-
toned Wild Bob and the manager in the
same words.
"They were told abruptly that it did. and
from what they had heard could forecast their
fate if they permitted themselves to fall into
the hands of that blackguard Vasquez. The
two white men looked at each other doubt
fully, and then in sudden burst of almost
childish anger the manager of the mine
seized from a shelf where it lay in roll
United States flag, and leaped through the
door to f1agpole that stood almost in front
of the office This action was all that was
necessary to cause an explosion. The Cap
tain, without word, jerked a rifle from the
hands of one of his men and shot. The mine
manager fell, twisted, and rolled over on his
back
"Wild Bob, with terrific oath wrenched
the rife from the officers hands, reversed 1t,
and plunged the bayonet through the lat
ter's abdomen with such desperate quick
ness that before the man at the foot of the
flagstaff had stopped tw1tchlng the revolu-
tionist who had shot him was dying. and
everything in the room, also the street, was
in turmoil 1t was this which doubtless
saved the adventurer in the crisis, for as
he ran toward the fallen manager others
swarmed in so quickly that the insurreclos
dared not shoot lest they kill their own men.
ROB saw at a glance the futility of trying
- to do anything for man already dead,
seized the flag, and with long strides ran
for the dynamite storehouse, fumblng Tor
his keys as he went Behind him, faithful
20 the last ran that poor, despised old In
dian; though Bob begged him to desert, and
cursed him for fool. Lead began TO pat
ter around them as they reached the tower,
striking the stone wall with little spats of
gray dust, and against the steel doors,
whence it rebounded savagely. 1t seemed
that the fugitives might not last to untasten
curses, exclamations, and the excitement of
blood chase increased before they swung
the outer one open. 1t was fortunate that
the inner one was unlocked: otherwise the
end would have been speedy. The Indian
was now on the ground, and Bob paused to
drag him inside before he slammed the door.
Even as he pushed the bolts home the
butts of muskets thumped on the outer
steel and the voices swelled to a roar. He
locked the inner door, barred it, and exam
ined the old mans wound, which, though
not serious, was bleeding. Outside the
sounds of hammering increased, and, hastily
telling Jose to battle from one of the bar
rels that were constantly kept in a corner
for fire emergencies, he seized rifle and
ran up the worn stone stairs that led in a
spiral to the roof of the magazine. From
this vantage, leaning over one of the old
stone embrasures, he opened fire with such
deadly effect that the revolutionists broke
for cover, leaving two or three of their men
on the ground.
Sometimes l wonder why he utilized the
brief lu1l that followed in the way he did.
l leave it to you. He bound together, bay
onet to breech, two of the old muskets, at
tached the flag to his improvised staff, and
planted it on top of his fort. The Indian.
who had crawled up after him, says he
= GOD