CHAPTER VII. IN PESITA'S CAMP
PESITA was a short, stocky man with a large, dark mustache. He attiredhimself after his own ideas of what should constitute the uniform of ageneral--ideas more or less influenced and modified by the chance andcaprice of fortune.
At the moment that Billy, Bridge, and Miguel were dragged into hispresence his torso was enwrapped in a once resplendent coat covered withyards of gold braid. Upon his shoulders were brass epaulets such as areconnected only in one's mind with the ancient chorus ladies of the lightoperas of fifteen or twenty years ago. Upon his legs were some rusty andragged overalls. His feet were bare.
He scowled ferociously at the prisoners while his lieutenant narratedthe thrilling facts of their capture--thrilling by embellishment.
"You are Americanos?" he asked of Bridge and Billy.
Both agreed that they were. Then Pesita turned toward Miguel.
"Where is Villa?" he asked.
"How should I know, my general?" parried Miguel. "Who am I--a poor manwith a tiny rancho--to know of the movements of the great ones of theearth? I did not even know where was the great General Pesita until nowI am brought into his gracious presence, to throw myself at his feetand implore that I be permitted to serve him in even the meanest ofcapacities."
Pesita appeared not to hear what Miguel had said. He turned his shouldertoward the man, and addressed Billy in broken English.
"You were on your way to El Orobo Rancho, eh? Are you acquainted there?"he asked.
Billy replied that they were not--merely looking for employment upon anAmerican-owned ranch or in an American mine.
"Why did you leave your own country?" asked Pesita. "What do you wanthere in Mexico?"
"Well, ol' top," replied Billy, "you see de birds was flyin' south an'winter was in de air, an a fat-head dick from Chi was on me trail--so Iducks."
"Ducks?" queried Pesita, mystified. "Ah, the ducks--they fly south, Isee."
"Naw, you poor simp--I blows," explained Billy.
"Ah, yes," agreed Pesita, not wishing to admit any ignorance of plainAmerican even before a despised gringo. "But the large-faced dick--whatmight that be? I have spend much time in the States, but I do not knowthat."
"I said 'fat-head dick'--dat's a fly cop," Billy elucidated.
"It is he then that is the bird." Pesita beamed at this evidence of hisown sagacity. "He fly."
"Flannagan ain't no bird--Flannagan's a dub."
Bridge came to the rescue.
"My erudite friend means," he explained, "that the police chased him outof the United States of America."
Pesita raised his eyebrows. All was now clear to him.
"But why did he not say so?" he asked.
"He tried to," said Bridge. "He did his best."
"Quit yer kiddin'," admonished Billy.
A bright light suddenly burst upon Pesita. He turned upon Bridge.
"Your friend is not then an American?" he asked. "I guessed it. Thatis why I could not understand him. He speaks the language of the gringoless well even than I. From what country is he?"
Billy Byrne would have asserted with some show of asperity that he wasnothing if not American; but Bridge was quick to see a possible loopholefor escape for his friend in Pesita's belief that Billy was no gringo,and warned the latter to silence by a quick motion of his head.
"He's from 'Gran' Avenoo,'" he said. "It is not exactly in Germany; butthere are a great many Germans there. My friend is a native, so he don'tspeak German or English either--they have a language of their own in'Gran' Avenoo'."
"I see," said Pesita--"a German colony. I like the Germans--they furnishme with much ammunition and rifles. They are my very good friends. TakeMiguel and the gringo away"--this to the soldiers who had brought theprisoners to him--"I will speak further with this man from Granavenoo."
When the others had passed out of hearing Pesita addressed Billy.
"I am sorry, senor," he said, "that you have been put to so muchinconvenience. My men could not know that you were not a gringo; but Ican make it all right. I will make it all right. You are a big man. Thegringos have chased you from their country as they chased me. I hatethem. You hate them. But enough of them. You have no business in Mexicoexcept to seek work. I give you work. You are big. You are strong. Youare like a bull. You stay with me, senor, and I make you captain. I needmen what can talk some English and look like gringo. You do fine.We make much money--you and I. We make it all time while we fight toliberate my poor Mexico. When Mexico liberate we fight some more toliberate her again. The Germans they give me much money to liberateMexico, and--there are other ways of getting much money when one isriding around through rich country with soldiers liberating his poor,bleeding country. Sabe?"
"Yep, I guess I savvy," said Billy, "an' it listens all right to me'sfar's you've gone. My pal in on it?"
"Eh?"
"You make my frien' a captain, too?"
Pesita held up his hands and rolled his eyes in holy horror. Take agringo into his band? It was unthinkable.
"He shot," he cried. "I swear to kill all gringo. I become savior of mycountry. I rid her of all Americanos."
"Nix on the captain stuff fer me, then," said Billy, firmly. "That guy'sa right one. If any big stiff thinks he can croak little ol' Bridgewhile Billy Byrne's aroun' he's got anudder t'ink comin'. Why, me an'him's just like brudders."
"You like this gringo?" asked Pesita.
"You bet," cried Billy.
Pesita thought for several minutes. In his mind was a scheme whichrequired the help of just such an individual as this stranger--someonewho was utterly unknown in the surrounding country and whose presence ina town could not by any stretch of the imagination be connected in anyway with the bandit, Pesita.
"I tell you," he said. "I let your friend go. I send him under safeescort to El Orobo Rancho. Maybe he help us there after a while. If youstay I let him go. Otherwise I shoot you both with Miguel."
"Wot you got it in for Mig fer?" asked Billy. "He's a harmless sort o'guy."
"He Villista. Villista with gringos run Mexico--gringos and the church.Just like Huerta would have done it if they'd given him a chance, onlyHuerta more for church than for gringos."
"Aw, let the poor boob go," urged Billy, "an' I'll come along wit you.Why he's got a wife an' kids--you wouldn't want to leave them without noone to look after them in this God-forsaken country!"
Pesita grinned indulgently.
"Very well, Senor Captain," he said, bowing low. "I let Miguel and yourhonorable friend go. I send safe escort with them."
"Bully fer you, ol' pot!" exclaimed Billy, and Pesita smiled delightedlyin the belief that some complimentary title had been applied to him inthe language of "Granavenoo." "I'll go an' tell 'em," said Billy.
"Yes," said Pesita, "and say to them that they will start early in themorning."
As Billy turned and walked in the direction that the soldiers had ledBridge and Miguel, Pesita beckoned to a soldier who leaned upon his gunat a short distance from his "general"--a barefooted, slovenly attemptat a headquarters orderly.
"Send Captain Rozales to me," directed Pesita.
The soldier shuffled away to where a little circle of men inwide-brimmed, metal-encrusted hats squatted in the shade of a tree,chatting, laughing, and rolling cigarettes. He saluted one of these anddelivered his message, whereupon the tall, gaunt Captain Rozales aroseand came over to Pesita.
"The big one who was brought in today is not a gringo," said Pesita, byway of opening the conversation. "He is from Granavenoo. He can be ofgreat service to us, for he is very friendly with the Germans--yet helooks like a gringo and could pass for one. We can utilize him. Also heis very large and appears to be equally strong. He should make a goodfighter and we have none too many. I have made him a captain."
Rozales grinned. Already among Pesita's following of a hundred men therewere fifteen captains.
"Where is Granavenoo?" asked Rozales.
"You mean to say, my dear capt
ain," exclaimed Pesita, "that a man ofyour education does not know where Granavenoo is? I am surprised. Why,it is a German colony."
"Yes, of course. I recall it well now. For the moment it had slipped mymind. My grandfather who was a great traveler was there many times. Ihave heard him speak of it often."
"But I did not summon you that we might discuss European geography,"interrupted Pesita. "I sent for you to tell you that the stranger wouldnot consent to serve me unless I liberated his friend, the gringo, andthat sneaking spy of a Miguel. I was forced to yield, for we can use thestranger. So I have promised, my dear captain, that I shall send themupon their road with a safe escort in the morning, and you shall commandthe guard. Upon your life respect my promise, Rozales; but if some ofVilla's cutthroats should fall upon you, and in the battle, while youwere trying to defend the gringo and Miguel, both should be slain by thebullets of the Villistas--ah, but it would be deplorable, Rozales, butit would not be your fault. Who, indeed, could blame you who had foughtwell and risked your men and yourself in the performance of your sacredduty? Rozales, should such a thing occur what could I do in token of mygreat pleasure other than make you a colonel?"
"I shall defend them with my life, my general," cried Rozales, bowinglow.
"Good!" cried Pesita. "That is all."
Rozales started back toward the ring of smokers.
"Ah, Captain!" cried Pesita. "Another thing. Will you make it known tothe other officers that the stranger from Granavenoo is a captain andthat it is my wish that he be well treated, but not told so much asmight injure him, or his usefulness, about our sacred work of liberatingpoor, bleeding unhappy Mexico."
Again Rozales bowed and departed. This time he was not recalled.
Billy found Bridge and Miguel squatting on the ground with twodirty-faced peons standing guard over them. The latter were somelittle distance away. They made no objection when Billy approached theprisoners though they had looked in mild surprise when they saw himcrossing toward them without a guard.
Billy sat down beside Bridge, and broke into a laugh.
"What's the joke?" asked Bridge. "Are we going to be hanged instead ofbeing shot?"
"We ain't goin' to be either," said Billy, "an' I'm a captain. Whaddayaknow about that?"
He explained all that had taken place between himself and Pesita whileBridge and Miguel listened attentively to his every word.
"I t'ought it was about de only way out fer us," said Billy. "We were inworse than I t'ought."
"Can the Bowery stuff, Billy," cried Bridge, "and talk like a white man.You can, you know."
"All right, bo," cried Billy, good-naturedly. "You see I forget whenthere is anything pressing like this, to chew about. Then I fall backinto the old lingo. Well, as I was saying, I didn't want to do it unlessyou would stay too, but he wouldn't have you. He has it in for allgringos, and that bull you passed him about me being from a foreigncountry called Grand Avenue! He fell for it like a rube for thetapped-wire stuff. He said if I wouldn't stay and help him he'd croakthe bunch of us."
"How about that ace-in-the-hole, you were telling me about?" askedBridge.
"I still got it," and Billy fondled something hard that swung under hisleft arm beneath his shirt; "but, Lord, man! what could I do againstthe whole bunch? I might get a few of them; but they'd get us all in theend. This other way is better, though I hate to have to split with you,old man."
He was silent then for a moment, looking hard at the ground. Bridgewhistled, and cleared his throat.
"I've always wanted to spend a year in Rio," he said. "We'll meet there,when you can make your get-away."
"You've said it," agreed Byrne. "It's Rio as soon as we can make it.Pesita's promised to set you both loose in the morning and send youunder safe escort--Miguel to his happy home, and you to El Orobo Rancho.I guess the old stiff isn't so bad after all."
Miguel had pricked up his ears at the sound of the word ESCORT. Heleaned far forward, closer to the two Americans, and whispered.
"Who is to command the escort?" he asked.
"I dunno," said Billy. "What difference does it make?"
"It makes all the difference between life and death for your friend andfor me," said Miguel. "There is no reason why I should need an escort.I know my way throughout all Chihuahua as well as Pesita or any ofhis cutthroats. I have come and gone all my life without an escort.Of course your friend is different. It might be well for him to havecompany to El Orobo. Maybe it is all right; but wait until we learn whocommands the escort. I know Pesita well. I know his methods. If Rozalesrides out with us tomorrow morning you may say good-bye to your friendforever, for you will never see him in Rio, or elsewhere. He and I willbe dead before ten o'clock."
"What makes you think that, bo?" demanded Billy.
"I do not think, senor," replied Miguel; "I know."
"Well," said Billy, "we'll wait and see."
"If it is Rozales, say nothing," said Miguel. "It will do no good; butwe may then be on the watch, and if possible you might find the meansto obtain a couple of revolvers for us. In which case--" he shrugged andpermitted a faint smile to flex his lips.
As they talked a soldier came and announced that they were no longerprisoners--they were to have the freedom of the camp; "but," heconcluded, "the general requests that you do not pass beyond the limitsof the camp. There are many desperadoes in the hills and he fears foryour safety, now that you are his guests."
The man spoke Spanish, so that it was necessary that Bridge interprethis words for the benefit of Billy, who had understood only part of whathe said.
"Ask him," said Byrne, "if that stuff goes for me, too."
"He says no," replied Bridge after questioning the soldier, "thatthe captain is now one of them, and may go and come as do the otherofficers. Such are Pesita's orders."
Billy arose. The messenger had returned to his post at headquarters. Theguard had withdrawn, leaving the three men alone.
"So long, old man," said Billy. "If I'm goin' to be of any help to youand Mig the less I'm seen with you the better. I'll blow over and mixwith the Dago bunch, an' practice sittin' on my heels. It seems to bethe right dope down here, an' I got to learn all I can about bein' agreaser seein' that I've turned one."
"Good-bye Billy, remember Rio," said Bridge.
"And the revolvers, senor," added Miguel.
"You bet," replied Billy, and strolled off in the direction of thelittle circle of cigarette smokers.
As he approached them Rozales looked up and smiled. Then, rising,extended his hand.
"Senor Captain," he said, "we welcome you. I am Captain Rozales." Hehesitated waiting for Billy to give his name.
"My monacker's Byrne," said Billy. "Pleased to meet you, Cap."
"Ah, Captain Byrne," and Rozales proceeded to introduce the newcomer tohis fellow-officers.
Several, like Rozales, were educated men who had been officers inthe army under former regimes, but had turned bandit as the saferalternative to suffering immediate death at the hands of the factionthen in power. The others, for the most part, were pure-blooded Indianswhose adult lives had been spent in outlawry and brigandage. All weresmall of stature beside the giant, Byrne. Rozales and two others spokeEnglish. With those Billy conversed. He tried to learn from them thename of the officer who was to command the escort that was to accompanyBridge and Miguel into the valley on the morrow; but Rozales and theothers assured him that they did not know.
When he had asked the question Billy had been looking straight atRozales, and he had seen the man's pupils contract and noticed theslight backward movement of the body which also denotes determination.Billy knew, therefore, that Rozales was lying. He did know who was tocommand the escort, and there was something sinister in that knowledgeor the fellow would not have denied it.
The American began to consider plans for saving his friend from the fatewhich Pesita had outlined for him. Rozales, too, was thinking rapidly.He was no fool. Why had the stranger desired to know who was to commandthe
escort? He knew none of the officers personally. What differencethen, did it make to him who rode out on the morrow with his friend? Ah,but Miguel knew that it would make a difference. Miguel had spoken tothe new captain, and aroused his suspicions.
Rozales excused himself and rose. A moment later he was in conversationwith Pesita, unburdening himself of his suspicions, and outlining aplan.
"Do not send me in charge of the escort," he advised. "Send CaptainByrne himself."
Pesita pooh-poohed the idea.
"But wait," urged Rozales. "Let the stranger ride in command, with ahalf-dozen picked men who will see that nothing goes wrong. An hourbefore dawn I will send two men--they will be our best shots--on ahead.They will stop at a place we both know, and about noon the CaptainByrne and his escort will ride back to camp and tell us that theywere attacked by a troop of Villa's men, and that both our guests werekilled. It will be sad; but it will not be our fault. We will swearvengeance upon Villa, and the Captain Byrne will hate him as a goodPesitista should."
"You have the cunning of the Coyote, my captain," cried Pesita. "Itshall be done as you suggest. Go now, and I will send for Captain Byrne,and give him his orders for the morning."
As Rozales strolled away a figure rose from the shadows at the side ofPesita's tent and slunk off into the darkness.