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"I shall have to put an end to such talk." "This morning the word came that the revolution is ended and that the soldiers of both parties are uniting to fight for their liberties. They say the Gringos are killing all the old people every one, in fact, except the girls, whom they take with them. Already they have begun the most horrible practices.
He now had assurances that it was on the way to him; but whether or not it would reach El Orobo was a question. "Why should we stay here when we are not paid?" asked one of them. "Yes, why?" chorused several others. "There is nothing to do here," said another. "We will go to Cuivaca. I, for one, am tired of working for the gringos."
Tell the dogs of Gringos that I laugh at them. Tell the Gringo, Reade, that, in these hills, I shall do as I please. That I shall let him pass safely, if I am so minded, or that I shall shoot at him whenever I choose. Assure him that I regard his life as being my property. Begone, you rascal!" Nor did Nicolas linger.
Montez, in his mind's eye, already saw the two Gringos stretched on the ground in death in a remoter part of the mountains. That was to be his real reward to the young dupes of his villainy. "When do you expect your purchasers?" Tom Reade inquired. "Two days after to-morrow, Senor Reade.
A louder growl from the others followed his words. One stepped back into the shadow of the hut. "Perros amarillos! Yellow dogs! You go upstream, fools! The Americans must be taken " A raucous sneer from Julio interrupted him. Simultaneously the paddler's hand leaped upward, poising a knife. "The gringos stay here and you, too, you Yanqui cur!" The poised knife hissed through the air at José.
"Of course I've heard of you, seen your picture in the papers, and all that, and, though I say it that shouldn't, I want to say that I didn't care a rap about those articles you wrote on Mexico. You're wrong, all wrong. You make the mistake of all Gringos in thinking a Mexican is a white man. He ain't. None of them ain't Greasers, Spiggoties, Latin-Americans and all the rest of the cattle.
True, they would never choose an alien to do the humbling, and the possibility was discussed with various head-shakings amongst themselves. But there were the Picardo vaqueros stanchly swearing by all the saints they knew that these two gringos were not as other gringos; that these two were worthy a place amongst true Californians. Could they not see that this Señor Hunter was as themselves?
“Verdad!” he pronounced unctuously. “I have come,” Ramon went on more boldly, “because my own lands are in danger, but also because I love the Mexican people, and hate the gringos! Some one must go among these good people and warn them not to sell their lands, not to be cheated out of their birthrights. My friend, I have come here to do that.” “Bueno!” exclaimed Alfego. “Muy bueno!”
“Then let me come tomorrow,” he urged. “No; I can’t do that. Mother is having some people to dinner.…” At last he begged her to set a date, but she refused, declared that her plans were unfixed, told him to call “some other time.” His touchy pride rebelled now. He cursed these gringos. He hated them. He wished for the power to leave her alone, to humble her by neglect.
Up the stairs dashed Dave in the lead. The skylight proved not to be fastened. Only a minute before had the machine gun stopped its murderous hail. Now some thirty Mexican soldiers crept to the edge of the roof to try their luck again with the sailormen up the street. "There is only a handful of them," shouted one Mexican. "The gringos must be under the hotel, or in it!"
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