"I--I fainted?" she asked perplexedly. Hull nodded. "Something excited
you. A fight in the street below. A man was stabbed--"
"Oh!" The white face of the bearded stranger sprang into her memory, "Is
he dead?"
"No, but badly hurt, I fancy," said the Commander. "They have taken him
to the City Hotel."
Desperately, she forced herself to speak. "I have come, senor, to ask a
pardon for my brother. He is very dear to me--and to my mother"--she
clasped her hands and held them toward him supplicatingly. "Senor, if
Benito should be captured--you will have mercy?"
The commander regarded her with puzzled interest. "Who is Benito, little
one?"
"His name is Windham. My father was a gring--Americano, Commandante."
Hull frowned. "An American ... fighting against his country?" he said
sharply.
"Ah, sir"--the girl came closer in her earnestness--"he does not fight
against the United States ... only against robbers who would hide behind
its flag." In her tone there was the outraged indignation of a suffering
people. "Horse thieves, cattle robbers."
"Hush," said Hull, "you must not speak thus of American officials. Their
seizures, I am told, were unavoidable--for military needs alone.
Pages:
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78