"But what is he charged with," persisted Bud, "and when is his trial? You can't keep him shut up without a trial."
At this the captain of the rurales lifted his eyebrows and one closely waxed mustachio and smiled mysteriously.
"Y como no?" he inquired. "And why not? Is he not a Mexican citizen?"
"Well, perhaps he is," thundered Bud, suddenly rising to his full height, "but I am not! I am an American, Señor Capitan, and there are other Americans! If you hold my friend without a trial I will come and tear your jail down—and the comisario will not stop me, either!"
"Ah!" observed the dandy little captain shrugging his mustachio once more and blinking, and while Hooker raged back and forth he looked him over appraisingly.
"One moment!" he said at last, raising a quieting hand. "These are perilous times, señor, in which all the defenders of Fortuna should stand together. I do not wish to have a difference with the Americans when Bernardo Bravo and his men are marching to take our town. No, I value the friendship of the valiant Americans very highly—so I will let your friend go. But first he must promise me one thing—not to trouble the Señor Aragon by making further love to his daughter!"
"Very well!" replied Bud. "He has already promised that to me; so come on and let him out."
"To you?" repeated Manuel del Rey with a faint smile. "Then, perhaps—"
"Perhaps nothing!" broke in Hooker shortly. "Come on!"
He led the way impatiently while the captain, his saber clanking, strode out and rode beside him. He was not a big man, this swashing captain of the rural police, but he was master, nevertheless, of a great district, from Fortuna to the line, with a reputation for quick work in the pursuance of his duty as well as in the primrose ways of love.