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D'Anguerra was a youngish man, tall, thin and sallow. He spoke very little English, but his secretary spoke it very well and acted as interpreter, Tom's Spanish being several degrees worse than the Colonel's English. The conversation in two tongues proceeded through the secretary with dispatch and accuracy.
Colonel d'Anguerra smiled patiently. "I will tell you, señor, what I know about the affair at Casa Grande. According to this dispatch, a regiment of Sonora troops passed by the ranch on their way south. They saw flames and heard shots. A band of Yaquis who had been driven from their village by one Angel Gonzales were burning and looting.
"Well, you're better off than we are. They took our stuff, shot two of the boys, knifed another, and blew up our track." "Who done it?" "Young Pachuca and his crowd. Say, who's the boss of this outfit?" Swartz opined that Colonel d'Anguerra, who was lodged in the house of the local jefe, was in command. "Good-natured kind of a guy, is he?" queried Tom, anxiously.
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