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Updated: June 2, 2025
"Take the Gringo back to his prison," ordered Culvera. "The order stands, general? At sunset?" asked the man. "It stands," assented Ramon; and turned to Ochampa: "Have you agreed on a price for that bunch of cattle with the Flying D rustlers, major?" Spurred by Daisy Ellington, the star of the border Lunar Company had kept the wires hot with messages to "the old man" in New York.
Nobody ever claimed there is any yellow in you. Your father was a gentleman and so is his son. You fight with men and not with timid girls. You wouldn't do this girl dirt because she is alone and has no friends near. Think of your own sisters, man." Ochampa moved restlessly in his chair. "We had better send the girl home. She will bring us trouble else."
He attempted to kill General Pasquale a short time ago. He was undoubtedly in league with the man Holcomb, the assassin of our great general. He shot Major Ochampa, but fortunately the major is recovering. The man is a border ruffian of the worst stamp." "May I talk with him, general?" "But certainly if the man is still living," assented the Mexican. The American officer looked straight at Ramon.
"He is what the Gringoes call game. Is it not so, major?" Ochampa, his wounded leg on a chair, grunted. "Turn about is fair play. How is your leg, major?" asked Steve. The major glared at him. "Is it that I must put up with the insolence of this scoundrel, general?" he demanded. "Not for long," replied Culvera suavely.
That this happened to be a particularly critical thing had no effect on their manner. Holcomb lit a cigar and sat down on the porch to wait for his guests. They came presently. First were Pasquale and Ochampa, rough and ready as to clothes, unshaven, betraying continually the class from which they had risen. Culvera dropped in after a few minutes.
He promised himself to settle down to moderation, to have done with the wild drinking-bouts that still occasionally interfered with his efficiency. Meanwhile, to-night he was again saying farewell to his bachelor days. He drank liberally but not excessively. Ochampa proposed the health and happiness of the bride. It was drunk with enthusiasm.
"Bet five dollars gold I have them inside of a quarter of an hour, captain," the Mexican general said, peering across his saddle toward the grove. "Yes," assented Major Ochampa in a depressed voice. He objected to having camp vagrants take liberties with his leg. "Hope you make an example of them, general." Pasquale turned, his eyes like cold lights on a frosty night.
The general himself, accompanied by Major Ochampa, sat in the saddle and scowled at the farmer. The latter told his story, almost in tears. This was all he had, these chicken, cabbages, and apples. He had brought them down to sell and was going to enlist. His Excellency would understand that he, Pedro Cabenza, was a patriot, but, behold! he had been robbed.
Until recently Ochampa had been a small farmer himself. He bargained shrewdly for the supplies, but in Cabenza he found a match. The man haggled to the last cent and then called on Heaven to witness that he had practically given away the goods for nothing. But when the sergeant led him away to enlist he was beaming at the bargain he had made.
"One hundred pesos to the man who kills either of them or captures her." Steve answered this by firing twice, once with his revolver and almost immediately afterward with his rifle. Ochampa sat down suddenly. He had been hit in the leg. Pasquale changed his tactics.
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