The Argosy, August 1905 — page 20: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

_ ‘THE ARGOSY. : where are those who ask questions. If _ it were not for that I would not have put myself to the trouble of guarding --___—ihim so carefully across the country.” “Ts he then a spy?” asked Perote, with sudden interest. “That is as you will, but in any case he is to die; it is enough that he was caught on this side of the Rio Grande. The General Santa Anna is resolved to deal sternly with certain of these north- erners.” The prisoner nodded gravely and ad- dressed Perote in excellent Spanish. * You perceive, sefor, what is to be done with me—to-morrow or the next day. But in the mean time one desires to be as comfortable as possible. I have eaten nothing for twenty hours and judge that you keep an inn.” The officer laughed. “ He is a bold one, evidently not fear- ing death; it is because of that we have bound him so carefully. I do not mind telling you that the poor devil has been traveling on an empty stomach. You see, we were short of rations.” Perote scowled darkly and looked up at the prisoner. “Tt may chance I can spare half a loaf, but, not being a friend of the re- public, payment will be required,” growled he. “ Which you doubtless know I cannot make, since your friends have relieved me of the little money I possessed,” re- plied the American. “Then you must go to bed hungry. Already I have given away more than I can afford,” said Perote coldly. “And there are ten mouths to fill. I warrant we will clean the larder for you, my friend,” interposed the officer dryly. The inn, over which five generations of Perotes had held sway, boasted of two stories; it was in a small room under the roof that the Mexicans elected to confine _, their prisoner for the night. That all _ possibility of escape might be obliter- ated, care was taken to rebind his hands ~~ securely to his sides and his, legs were oq _ fastened firmly at the ankles. He was then thrown upon the rude nd a third rope passed across his around the crude piece of vig : ae >| . al ead ; A nail a board over the window; the key of the door was in possession of the officer. Bound as he was, the American could have been left in the yard with no fear but that he would be there in the morning. The Mexicans sat long at table, de- manding much, and cursing among themselves that more variety was not forthcoming. As for Perote, he found his hands full until a late hour, for after the riders had been fed the horses must be attended to. Thrice he stole up the ladder which led to the second story and listened at the door of the prisoner's room. Hach time he heard nothing; the little room was still as death. Tt was not without interest that he watched the preparations of the sol- diers to retire. The man who was selected to guard the prisoner spread his blanket upon the floor outside the door with his feet against the panels. The captive could not leave the apartment by way of the window; the opening of the door would arouse the Mexican; and to try his skill on either door or window the American must first untie the knots which it had required a quarter of an hour to secure. The captain was the last to retire. Before doing so he accosted Senor Perote as the latter was bolting the front door. “We must be away at sunrise. It might be wise, my friend, to give the American a cup of coffee in the morn- ing; we cannot have him tumbling from the saddle through weakness.” Perote growled an inarticulate reply, put out the lights and retired into the kitchen, where, the house being full, he had spread his bed. He shut the door carefully, placed-a candle close to the little mirror and be- gan to dress the half-healed burns. Having finished, he blew out the licht and threw himself fully dressed upon the couch. For a long time he lay gazing up in the blackness, but, acne =e oe nen been two ee he rose, er ‘he room noiselessly, opened the door leading into ‘the jure cutest hae ‘ld . ’ — * ing, and listened intently. : The heavy breathing of exhaus Ps 4 # 7 a 7 Ce a » comicbooks.com