“Who is it? What’s wanted?” And, to the dogs: “Buster! Bravo! Be quiet!”
’Twas Mrs. Burnam.
“It’s Ernest Merrill, from Gonzales,” he called back. “The Mexicans want our cannon. We need help.”
“For goodness’ sake!” he heard Mrs. Burnam ejaculate. “Wait a minute,” she bade.
Now there was a stir within the house; a candle glimmered through the shutter cracks; presently the door was unbarred and Mrs. Burnam herself came out, and hastened to him.
“Down, Buster!” she ordered. “You Bravo, down! Go back!” She was bare-headed, bare-footed, with a blanket thrown over her night garments. She peered at Ernest, to recognize him.
“Want your cannon, you say? You aren’t going to give it to them!”
“No, ma’am!” declared Ernest. “And we’ve told ’em so. But if they try to take it we’ve only eighteen men. Captain Caldwell’s gone up to Mina with the word; and they sent me to alarm you folks and the other Colorado people, and San Felipe. Everybody’s to come as quick as they can. Never mind Cos.”
“For goodness’ sake!” again ejaculated Mrs. Burnam. “Captain Burnam’s over at San Felipe, joining the militia against Cos. But light, light, and come in. We’ll put up your horse.”
“No, I mustn’t,” opposed Ernest. “If you’ll alarm Beason’s and the up-river, I’ll go on to San Felipe.”