The Argosy, August 1905 — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

name and how you were taken,” con- tinued Perote quietly. “Ah!” muttered the prisoner. “It was while ona scout, beyond San Rafael, and I am a Virginian—Haddon, of Harney’s Horse.” “You are perhaps an officer in the army of the Americans? ” “Yes: a lieutenant. But I can’t see what that has to do with the present situation.” “Perhaps because it is very dark, senor, but outside it is a little lighter. It has come about that I desire in the army of the Americans to possess a friend—one, if it should so happen I appear before your General Taylor, who will vouch for my honesty. If it is per- mitted you to return to the ranks of the invaders, will it be as I desire, Senor Haddon?” “Till see to it that you dine with the President in Washington and be pre- sented with a Congressional Medal, asa life-sayer,” answered the American lieu- tenant so heartily that Perote glanced anxiously toward the door. * And you will know me by * he began, then checked himself and drew his breath sharply. “Yes, PH know you,” broke in the lieutenant; “ but for God’s sake get me out of here. We can do the talking afterward.” Perote bent down, felt for the cords, and with three deft strokes of the knife severed them each in turn. The American tried to rise, then fell baek, cursing softly. “It- is the weakness,” muttered Petote. “Drink, sefior; it ‘will strengthen you.” He held the mouth of a flask to the other’s lips, and Lieutenant Haddon swallowed a few gulps of a fiery liquor. It burned like molten metal and set his head reeling, but, as though by magic, renewed strength returned into his muscles. He raised himself, caught Perote’s arm for support, and got unsteadily upon his feet. * Gently, senior,” whispered the Mexi- can; “there is one sleeping outside the door. We must descend the ladder; a false step may awaken those who will form obstacles.” —se sé nid i>. — * ‘the * 12 THE ARGOSY. Just how he managed to cross the room, climb through the window, and descend the twelve feet of ladder to the ground, Haddon to his dying day could not explain. : His head was ringing like a kettle- drum, his arms and legs were stiff and cramped for want of circulation, and the liquor, taken on an empty stomach, was playing sad havoc with his senses, | He felt the firm ground under his feet and was aware that his companion was supporting him. Then things be- came clearer, and he found himself standing beside the stable, the door of which Perote held open. From out of the darkness came the amell of horses and the sound of their restless movements. “You are about to mount the horse of senor, the captain; it is a strong beast, and will carry you many miles without a halt,” said Perote quietly. Haddon drew in long breaths of the invigorating night air. It cleared his head, and he began to realize more keenly the situation. Yet this situation puzzled him. From. being a helpless prisoner, tied to an uncomfortable bed of straw, he had been transported, almost in an instant, to the side of a horse which was to carry him to freedom. He began a question, but his strange companion interrupted almost rudely. “There is strapped behind the saddle sufficient food for two meals, and a flask of liquor. It were better, however, to dine upon the way, sefor. At any moment some one within may awaken.” _ “Thank you, my friend; I shall not forget to-night,” said Haddon heartily, Then, suddenly: “ But why have you done this, knowing me to be an Ameri- can’ Have you not said it was certain of the Americans who gave you cause to wear those bandages?” “I lied, sefior lieutenant. It was not the Americans who tortured me,” re- plied Perote bricdy, Haddon was in no humor to seek to gratify his curiosity further; what he most desired was to put as much space Ae; S asieep in the inn. Perote had led the horse into the open. t* comicbooks.con