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The only troops I met were Sergeant Wing and his guard at the pass just after nightfall. Have you met the Apaches? You saw the signal, of course." "Signal, yes, but devil an Apache. Tell me now, wasn't it you was here at Moreno's this morning begging for troops to go and fetch your ladies down from the Gila? Wasn't it you sent the note saying they was run off by Indians?"
Whose work is this?" demanded the lieutenant, leaping from saddle to his side. The man seemed swooning away, but the sergeant dashed water in his face. "Quick! the others! or they'll burn to death." "What others? Where, man?" exclaimed the soldiers, springing to their feet. "Oh! somewhere in there, the far end of the corral or Moreno's west room," was the gasping reply.
Without any show of false modesty, she did as I directed, and having saturated my handkerchief, I bound it about the sprain, and wrapping her long cloak of wool around her, put her shoe and stocking in my pocket, and then lifting her to my shoulder, started down the road to Madre Moreno's cottage.
"I could see every mile of the road with my glasses, capitan, from the cliff top yonder every mile from Moreno's to where we struck the cañon. There isn't a sign of dust, there isn't a sign of pursuing party." "Bueno! Then we rest when we reach the cave. This is even better than I hoped."
It was only by posing as a loyalist and exercising the utmost circumspection that he had so far succeeded in keeping a whole skin; and if he were not convinced that he could do more for the cause where he was than elsewhere, he would not remain in the city another hour. As for myself, he was quite of Moreño's opinion, that the sooner I got away the better.
He ran away from us on the discovery of Donovan's body and rode straight for Moreno's, beating us there probably by an hour or so, for no one happened to miss him." Wing's hands were raised on high in a gesture almost tragic, then dropped helplessly by his side.
It was a picturesque life, with more of sentiment and gayety in it, more also that was truly dramatic, more romance, than will ever be seen again on those sunny shores. The aroma of it all lingers there still; industries and inventions have not yet slain it; it will last out its century, in fact, it can never be quite lost, so long as there is left standing one such house as the Senora Moreno's.
Phlegmatic as he was, old Plummer's nerves gave a twitch as, sharp and stern, young Harvey challenged. "Halt there! Who are you? Halt! or we fire." "Friends," shouted one voice; "Americans," the other, as promptly the order to halt was obeyed, the trained horses going almost on their haunches under the cruel force of the huge Mexican bit. "We are seeking Moreno's," continued the first voice.
Lost their leaders and three of their best men, lost their rendezvous at Moreno's, lost horses and mules, for what our men didn't get the Apaches did, and won absolutely nothing except the twenty-four-hour possession of a safe they hadn't time to open.
The next morning the storm was over, though through the sky the clouds were driving fast, but the rising sun touched them with gold and all the trees looked bright and new. Early, after breakfast, I gathered some flowers, and, mounting my mare, rode down to Madre Moreno's cottage.
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