“That ees the Señora Peggy McCormick,” whispered young de Zavala, who had joined the four boys. “She leeve here on Peggy Bay.”
Ernest leaped in front of her.
“You can’t see the general,” he informed. “He’s been wounded.”
“Aw, out of the way wid ye,” ordered Peggy McCormick; and Ernest received a vigorous push that sent him whirling. “I’ve no time for boys. ’Tis the gin’ral I want.”
The men were whooping and laughing. They must have pointed out to her the general’s tree, for she quickly arrived there.
“Be you the gin’ral?” she demanded.
“Madam, I am General Sam Houston,” he answered, very gallantly. “You will pardon my not rising. What can I do for you?”
“Take your men off me league,” stormed the red-haired woman.
“Are you the owner of this land hereabouts, lady?” queried the general.
“I am. I own it all—three square miles. Take your men off me league, or I’ll have the law on yez. Yez had no permission of mine to fight your battle on my league.”