"¡Caray!" he exclaimed, "That infernal Corky Joe was lucky this time; it is long since I have had a solid house where I could feel comfortable and, mainly, safe. This confounded disguise began to choke me like a corset on the Fat Woman in the Show; Richard actually yearned to be himself again! By St. Antonio! What a jolly thing it is not to have to play a part. Even for an hour it is a luxury to be able to stretch one's legs mentally and bodily. But, pshaw! Still a few more days and we shall be at ease if this providential guide is to be depended on! He's a capital blade, a little blunt, like all English, quaint, novel, but the right stuff. I can't tell why, but I feel warm towards him."
The lieutenant could not help smiling at this confession.
"Besides, he saved my life," went on the other, "there's something in that. It is true that if he had known who I was, he would have let the bears chew me up, more than likely. Ugh! It gives me creeping all over again to remember that fix. However, I was saved to live many a day yet in and out of the cover of Captain Kidd. Kidd! Ha, ha! There's one who never suspected he would be useful after his death, when our partnership was suddenly cleft asunder by an insertion of my knife in his jugular as he was sleeping with liquor. But what's the sense of bringing his memory up? He's out of the battle of life; the secret is buried out of mortal ken."
As he spoke he performed his metamorphosis, the arraying himself in the shell, so to say of Captain Kidd. He dressed and "made up" so artistically, that Joe himself, who was no mean actor, could not help admiring.
The disguise was complete, nothing being omitted to aid illusion. The transformation was executed quickly too.
"A rainy night, ugh!" muttered the re-become Captain Kidd. "But prudence is the mother of security, and you don't catch me lying down without going the rounds of my camp!"
As the speaker began to break down the rampart which fended the doorway, the lieutenant abandoned his peephole. He crawled back as he had come, slipped forth from the opening, made his painful way through the thorn brake and came out into the clear ground. Convincing himself that nobody was on the lookout for him, he went over to the tent of Doña Rosario. Leon's blanket was in a heap by the door. He wrapped it around him, leaving his pistol arm free, like a Highlander in his plaid, and lay down, feigning to steep.
He had not been thus placed ten minutes before the tent doorway flap was lifted, and out stepped the captain with the bottle lantern.
The latter went the rounds conscientiously, rousing more than one drowsy sentinel with a swing of the lantern or a boot smartly applied. As the men growled he chuckled, and so worked himself up into a good humour like a bulldog who had had several successful scuffles. His promenade brought him round to Rosario's tent, but just as he was drawing back his leg to awaken the presumedly sleeping figure, there was the ku-klux of a large revolver going on full cock, and, without taking the trouble to rise, Joe challenged:
"No tricks on travellers. Who are you with a light, and so free with your boot?"