“Major Starland, I have naught against you, though you have stolen my property, but I have the right to demand that you surrender the deserter with you. Do that, and we will trouble you no more.”
“You are not troubling me in the least; I’m enjoying this, though it doesn’t seem to give you much amusement. However, you may as well save your words regarding the noble Martella, who has served us so well. He has cast his fate with us and I consider him worth a thousand such as you.”
There was really no call for the General to keep up the conversation and he subsided. The action of the current steadily bore his boat forward, but the helmsman shied off toward the northern bank, and bye and bye, was farther down stream than the tug. Either one or the other of the six-pounders carefully followed the relative change of position, and an eighth of a mile below the smaller craft glided out of sight around a sweeping bend in the river.
All this time the screw of the tugboat was viciously churning, but the prow held fast. Once or twice a trembling of the hull seemed to show a partial lessening of the hold, but nothing more.
The danger of boarding having passed for the time, Major Starland returned to the cabin to speak to his sister. She had understood everything that had taken place and needed no cheering. Then he rejoined Captain Guzman and Martella at the front.
“We are free of the General for awhile.”
“But there is no saying for how long,” remarked the Captain.
“What do you think he means to do?”
“I cannot guess, unless it is to keep on to Zalapata and to appeal to General Bambos.”