ADRIAN HAS AN ACCIDENT.
"What do you suppose that means?" asked Adrian.
Mr. Black made no reply and a moment later the bugle call was repeated.
"It sounds to me," said Mr. Black, "as though some fresh troops were coming in."
"That's bad," was Adrian's comment.
"Perhaps not, my lad, if we act quickly."
"How so?"
"The new arrivals may take up the attention of the gang of bandits outside and we may get away ere they return."
"Good," was Adrian's comment. "Where is Miss Josie?"
"Waiting in the next room with the family of my host."
Mr. Black stepped to the door and called to those within. In a few words he explained the situation and in less than three minutes he and the girl were mounted and ready to ride.
"Where is your horse?" he asked Adrian.
"I left it with the boys at the cocoanut grove."
"But we can't go and leave you here."
"Of course not. I shall run alongside of your horse, holding to its mane, Indian fashion. Now then, are we ready?"
"All ready!"
The great gate was opened noiselessly and, bidding a subdued good-bye to the family, the three passed out into the night.
"I should have throttled José ere I left," declared Mr. Black as they passed down the street.
"I wish we were as safe as he is," laughed Adrian.
For three blocks they wended their way as silently as possible and just as they came out into the open there came another bugle call.
"That's for us," said Adrian. "There is no mistaking that command. Now to run for it."
The two riders put spurs to their horses and Adrian bounded along at their side, running as lightly as an antelope. They were rapidly nearing the spot where the Americans were in waiting, when Adrian stepped into a hole and pitched forward onto his face.
"Don't stop for me!" he called. "I'll be there as quick as you are!"
He picked himself up and started to run, but his ankle gave him such a pain that he almost fainted.
"Great Scott!" he exclaimed, "I've sprained my ankle."
He sat down and rubbed the maimed member for a couple of minutes and then attempted to hobble on. It was more than he could bear and he sat down again.
"By George," he groaned, "this is tough! I'll have to call for help."
He gave the well-known whistle, but there was no response.
He gave it again; but still no answer.
"Worse and more of it," he muttered. "Something has happened to Billie."
What it might be Adrian could not imagine, but he was sure that his chum was not at the appointed spot, as he was near enough to have heard the whistle and would surely have answered.
"Well, I can't stay here. The greasers will be coming pretty soon. I must get along some way."
He got up and walked a few steps and again sat down. There was no sound of a pursuit and the hoofbeats of Mr. Black's horses had ceased.
"They have reached the grove," Adrian muttered. "I must get there some way."
Once more he arose to his feet and took several steps and then sank down in a faint, so great was the pain.
When he came to himself he was lying upon a matting of some kind and to his ears came the faint sound of a guitar, followed a few moments later by sounds of girlish laughter.
He sat up and looked around, but could see nothing, except a ray of light coming in through a little crack between a couple of blankets that formed a curtain in a doorway.
"Where in the name of common sense am I?" he muttered.
He attempted to get to his feet, but the pain in his ankle brought him quickly to himself.
"Now I remember!" he exclaimed. "I fell and sprained my ankle. But how did I get here?"
He started to call, but at that moment the music ceased and a minute later he heard voices saying good night. Then a door was closed and immediately the curtains were thrown open and a peon woman stood in the door.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, upon seeing Adrian sitting up and looking at her. "Then you are not dead?"
"I should say not. Did you think I was?"
"I was afraid so."
"Why?"
"Because your death might be laid at my door."
"Evidently she hasn't discovered I am an American," thought Adrian. "Well, I'll not tell her until I have to."
The woman turned around and called to some one in the other room and another figure appeared in the door—that of a girl some fifteen years of age.
"Look, Peppita," and the elder woman pointed at Adrian.
The girl gave a little scream.
"Madre mia!" she exclaimed. "Who is it?"
"I know not, my child. I found him unconscious at our back door and dragged him inside."
"I beg your pardon," said Adrian. "I didn't know I was near any house."
"It is a very poor one, señor. I and my daughter are all alone since my poor Leocadio was killed."
"Who killed him?" asked Adrian, becoming interested.
"The Huertistas. He was a soldier under Gen. Dorantes."
"Is that so?" exclaimed Adrian. "I know Gen. Dorantes well. He is a fine man. But you will soon be avenged, for Huerta's days are short."
The woman's eyes snapped.
"Es verdad?" meaning, "Is it true?"
"It certainly is. Since the Americans have taken Vera Cruz, Gen. Huerta will have to go. It is only a question of a few days."
"Bienissimo! The Americans are brave men! My Leocadio was fond of the Americans."
"I am glad of that, señora, for I am an American."
The woman and girl both started back as in fear and then came forward again.
"How did you come here, señor?"
"I fell from a horse and sprained my ankle. I tried to walk and must have fainted."
"Have you friends in Moreno?"
"I did have, but they have gone and I want to get to Vera Cruz."
"Vera Cruz is a long way, señor. I never expect to go that far from home—me and my little Peppa."
Adrian smiled.
"I expect it does look like a long ways to you, señora; but it is not far. Do you think I can stay here with you until my ankle is well enough to walk? I have a little money. I will pay you something."
"Oh, Mother!" exclaimed the girl, who now spoke for the first time. "You will let him stay, won't you?"
"The wife of Leocadio would not turn a lame dog out, much less a lame boy."
"Mil gracias, señora!" exclaimed Adrian, with much gratitude. "Yes, more than a thousand thanks. You will never regret it."
"The wife of Leocadio is not learned," was the reply, "but she knows an honest youth when she sees one. Come, Peppita, let the young man go to sleep. We will make our bed out here."
She drew the curtains together and Adrian was left alone to his own reflections.
"By George!" he exclaimed under his breath, "if I ever get out of this measly country, I'll be glad. I wonder what has become of Billie? Of course he'll look for me, and old Don, too; but it looks as though it might be weeks before I could walk. Well, I don't care. If Mr. Black and Josie got away, that's glory enough for one day."
He settled himself down and tried to go to sleep, but his leg hurt him so that he could not. In fact, the pain was so great that every once in a while he groaned.
After a few of these groans the woman appeared in the door with an earthen vessel filled with hot water.
"If the señor will bind this on his ankle, it will do it much good," she said.
"I'll do anything to get rid of this pain," said Adrian.
He took the jar and, dipping his handkerchief in it, bathed his ankle freely and finally bound the cloth around the swollen part.
"There," he muttered as he at last succeeded in finding a comfortable position, "now I think I can get a little sleep."
How long thereafter it was before he came to himself he did not know, but when he opened his eyes the first streak of daylight was creeping in through a little window.
A minute later there was the rattle of musketry, followed by a hearty American cheer. He raised up to look out of the window, when the side of the room came in with a crash.