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"Is it true?" he asked. "I am a Cuban." Esteban's smile was a trifle grim. "Cuban? Your people were Spanish." "True. But no Spaniard ever raised a Spanish child in Cuba. We are Cubans, Rosa and I." At this statement the sister cried: "Hush! It is dangerous to speak in that way, with this new war growing every day." "But O'Reilly is our good friend," Esteban protested.
"No, sir; damn the O'Reilly estate," cried he, huddling the maps together on the desk, and taking up the bank notes, which he had begun to reckon for the purchase money. "I beg your pardon, sir. If you knew the facts, you would excuse me. Why does not this rascal come up to be paid?"
This is to be lamented, but, if it comes, we shall not back out." Deeply exercised, Morse answers him post-haste: "It gives me real pain to learn that there is any prospect of physical collision between the O'Reilly party and ours, and I trust that this may arrive in time to prevent any movement of those friendly to me which shall provoke so sad a result.
O'Reilly may have acted hastily, under excitement, under bad advisement, and in that mood have taken wrong steps. Yet I still believe he may be recovered, and, while I would use every precaution to protect our just rights, I wish not to take a single step that can be misconstrued into vindictiveness or triumph."
On the day after their arrival O'Reilly and the big artilleryman took advantage of a pleasant stream to bathe and wash their clothes; then, while they lay in their hammocks, enjoying the luxury of a tattered oil-cloth shelter and waiting for the sun to dry their garments, O'Reilly spoke what was in his mind. "I'm getting about fed up on Leslie," he declared.
General O'Reilly saved his life by having him carried away by his soldiers; but the Archduke Maximilian, in order to defy the Emperor still further, paraded in triumph in the midst of the national guard the individual who has struck the first blow at the bearer of the French summons.
The second cast of the net had been made at the latter place as soon as the watchers were able to assure Crane that Ekstrom and O'Reilly had returned Dressier having anticipated them there by something like half an hour. By daybreak, then, these gentry would be interned on Ellis Island....
Cardon," the bartender announced, then lowered his voice. "O'Reilly wants to see you. About " He gave a barely perceptible nod in the direction of the building across the street. "Yes; I want to see him, too." Cardon poured from the bottle in front of him, accepted the thanks of the house, and, when the bartender brought the fifteen-dollars-odd change from the dozen drinks, he pushed it back.
As O'Reilly had anticipated, the ranch house was empty, deserted. Similarly the stables hard by. Likewise the adjoining tool shed. Though they searched every nook, until a mouse could not have escaped detection, they found not a trace of him for whom they looked, nor a clue to his disappearance.
It looked as if she must have changed her mind, and be ready to sell him her house, the dear old house on which he had set his heart. Perhaps she would demand a higher price than he had offered. Well, he must pay it somehow. Heron would lend him the money but no, there were reasons why O'Reilly didn't wish to accept favours from Heron, often as they had been pressed upon him.
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