Argosy, Vol. 1 (December 9, 1882) — page 126: what you’re looking at

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

IN PERILOUS WAYS. 11g The fellow was shaking. Coward that he was, I had little sympathy for him, but I did not want his blood on my hands; and, besides, for the reasons _ I have mentioned, I was now anxious to get rid of him. “ We will take his parole,” I suggested, *‘ and his promise that he will not cross our path again.” “His parole, sefior, would be worth nothing,” said the Mexican, with a contemptuous kind of laugh. “ Put an end to him, and thus remove the temptation for breaking his parole and thereby damning his soul.” He had drawn a knife, and I believe he would have made short work of carrying out his threat, had I not released my hold, with an intimation whis- pered in the fellow’s ear for him to run. He did run, and no coward ever showed a livelier pair of legs. “I half believe you meant to let him go,” said my companion, turning upon me angrily. ; ‘Well, he is gone,” I replied, as if to dismiss the subject. “ Yes, he 1s gone,” repeated the Mexican, “ and it was for me, not you, to deal with him.” | “Well, I have nothing on my conscience to trouble me. And but for me they might have got the best of you.” “To be sure,” he replied. ‘‘ At least I am indebted to you. It would have been a fine stroke of business if they had kidnapped Francisco Miranda. That was their object, probably, rather than robbery,” he said, as he kicked the blanket which lay at his feet. I had not known before who this man was. In fact I knew very little of him at the time, though his name was familiar to every one and he had caused the Constitutional party no end of trouble. I thought it best to allow him to remain deceived as to the fact that the fellows had been following me. Ex- planations would have been rather embarrassing, even if I was believed. “We might as well be going,” he suggested. As we walked along together I noticed that he was a man past middle age, and of rather a fine figure. He talked freely and without reserve. “How does it come that you, an American, are in the city at this time? ” he asked, and I could almost feel his sharp, questioning eyes. ““T am staying here for a short time—until I can find it convenient to leave,” I replied. “A traveler.” . “Yes, seeing a little of the country.” “A bad time to visit Mexico,” he continued. ‘ Wher affairs become adjusted strangers will be made more welcome.” I could see that he had a prejudice against Americans. Coming to the next corner I inquired where we were. “On the corner beyond is Sto. Domingo,” he replied, pointing with his finger. I had failed to recognize the building until he pointed it out to me, but I needed no other information now to find my way to my lodgings. “Will you not give me your name? ” he asked, as I was about to leave himni. “Harvey,” I replied. CORNICE OOO ‘SS COLNT