The Argosy, Vol. 83 No. 1 — page 103: what you’re looking at

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

; DROPPING INTO MEXICO. vigil beside-the aeroplane. That they ‘would not accept Senfor Bilbao’s proffer of ‘a pair of mounts to take them back to the ‘border, for, leaving out of the question Jones’s reluctance to desert the air-ship, the half-heartedness of the offer was ob- vious. They understood it was through no lack of good will on the part of the old Mexican, but that he understood the grave consequences which might arise to his household should the Villistas come and discover he had assisted in the escape of the Americans. As the lieutenant put it tersely, it would be a sorry thing to leave in danger of gross insult, or worse, an old man and a young girl while they fled northward and saved their own skins. And they also declined to accept the senor’s hospitality for the night, for should the bandits arrive they must per- force turn the house into a fortress and defend themselves, which could have but one ending, their own destruction and that of Bilbao and his daughter. For a brief half hour, leaving the half-. breed Jose on guard beside the aeroplane, the Americans had visited the dwelling. Now smoking his pipe and listening for the noise that at any moment might come out of the darkness, Robinson repictured to himself the girl who. had greeted them on the broad veranda. If Senorita Pepita shared the anxiety of her father she gave no evidence of it; her soft brown eyes were sparkling as she came forward to meet Lieutenant Jones; the glow of health burned in her oval cheeks, just tinged with that delicate olive com- mon among the well born of the southern races. The expression of her face was piquant, vivacious, eager, and the flush which covered it as she returned Jones’s greeting heightened its charm. She had added her request to that of Bilbao that the Americans make their quarters in the house, at least until morn- ing, and when they had refused it was she who had given the order that blankets be provided them in order that their night in the open might be more comfortable. The reporter gripped the pipe-stem harder between his teeth and frowned at the curtain of darkness which hid the plain and distant mountain range. “Bilbao is an old fool to keep that girl unprotected in this nest of bandits,” he muttered. He shifted his posture, arose and stretched his cramped limbs. Taking out his watch he bent down and flashed for an instant the rays of a pocket lamp upon the dial. “One o’clock—and all’s well!” said he grimly, “but how long will all remain well?” He began to pace restlessly back and forth beside the aeroplane. A breeze from the west had sprung up, which ruffled the wings of the air-ship, and little groaning sounds broke the solitude. The yellow gleam from the windows of the house had disappeared; it seemed to Rob- inson that he and Jones, sleeping with his head upon his arm, were the only living things south of the friendly border where safety lay. And then the illusion was dispelled. A voice, harsh, in Spanish jargon, rang out upon the night. The voice was followed by a sharper sound: a heavy blow struck upon resounding wood. Circling the aeroplane he bent over Jones and shook him roughly. The lieu- tenant sat up suddenly, then leaped to his feet, brushing a hand across his eyes. “They are there—at the house,” Rob- inson explained. A light flashed from a window; a med- ley of voices shouting angrily and another blow. “Tt is the Villistas, routing up the place,” said Jones grimly. ‘“‘And when they don’t find us there they’ll be out here after us. It’s going to be the real thing; we’re in for it. Shall we fire at the first rush; or make a running fight of it?” The reporter’s voice trembled just a little. “We can’t hold out against a crowd of them, a dozen to one, or probably even greater odds. CORMICLOOOKS The chances are small 93 (E@)