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Updated: June 15, 2025
More than an acquaintance a friend who stood by him in the hour of danger, first courageously protecting, then nobly volunteering to act as his second in a duel; afterwards taking him on to his home and showing him hospitality, kind as was ever extended to a stranger in a strange land. No wonder Frank Hamersley holds him dear.
Yis, kummerade, Walt Wilder, for oncest in in his kureer, air in a difeequelty; an' thet difeequelty air bein' fool enuf to fall in love the which he hez dun, sure, sartin." Hamersley gives a shrug of surprise, accompanied with a slight glance of indignation. Walt Wilder in love! With whom can it be?
Both so unlike Uraga or any of his lancers, so different from what they would deem enemies, that the rifles of Hamersley and the hunter, instead of being aimed to deliver their fire, are dropped, butts to the ground. Before clearing the skirt of timber, the two horsemen make halt only for an instant, as if to reconnoitre.
Hamersley can scarce restrain his inclination to laugh; but with an effort he subdues it, and faithfully, though not very literally, translates the proposal into Spanish. When, as Walt supposes, he has finished, the ex-Ranger rises to his feet and stands awaiting the answer, his huge frame trembling like the leaf of an aspen.
A black snake kedn't crawl through among 'em 'ithout bein' obsarved." "What are we to do?" asks Hamersley, in a despairing tone. "We kin do nothin' now, 'ceptin' go back an' git our mules. We must move them out o' the way afore sun-up. 'Taint no matter o' use our squattin' hyar. No doubt o' what's been done. The main body's goed below; them we see's only a party left to guard the gap.
Even yet it might appear as a dream but for the voice of Walt Wilder, who, outside, seems labouring hard to make himself intelligible to some personage with whom he is conversing. Hamersley is about to utter a cry that will summon his comrade to his side, when he perceives that the voices are becoming fainter, as if the two speakers had gone outside the house and were walking away from it.
To Hamersley all is explained by her presence. He remembers the portrait upon the wall, which accounts for his fancy of having seen her face before. He sees it now; his wonder giving way to an intense, ardent admiration. Soon, the young lady retiring, his curiosity comes back, and he asks his host for an explanation. How came Colonel Miranda there, and why?
A golden key is good for opening the door of any gaol in Mexico. Only one thought hinders Hamersley from at once giving way to this reasoning the thought of his betrothed being in such company under such an escort, worse than unprotected! Once more he scans the distance that separates him from the soldiers, his gun tightly grasped.
He is determined to find out and punish the perpetrators of that foul deed. It will be difficult; nay, more, there will be danger in his attempting it I've told him so." "Dear brother, try to dissuade him!" If Hamersley could but hear the earnest tone in which the appeal is spoken it would give him gratification. "I have tried, but to no purpose.
It is to dismount, make for the marquee, enter it, and kill Adela Miranda thrust her through with his sword. Fortunately for her, the coward's heart fails him. He will not have time to do the murder and remount his horse. The Rangers are already in the open ground and rushing towards him, Wilder and Hamersley at their head. In a minute more they will be around him.
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