"Quiet! Our cause is worth more than your life!"
CHAPTER XIII
ENOUGH TO MAKE A MEXICAN LAUGH
THOUGH Hal's captor spoke English, he was unquestionably Mexican. His eyes gleamed with an unholy fire. Young Overton had no doubt that he recognized the type—a man who believed that he was serving the holy cause of liberty in his own country, and who would think a Gringo life of little value if it interfered with the cause of the rebels across the river.
The sharp point of that knife pressed so insistently against Hal's neck that the Army boy realized he could not move before the weapon would be driven into his throat.
"This is where it's wiser to keep still," muttered the young lieutenant to himself. "My sentries will hear, anyway. They'll soon have this maniac subdued."
Instead of the sentries four other Mexicans came hurrying up. Nor did they seem afraid to come running down the open road. And one of these brown-skinned men was Pedro Guarez himself.
"Aha! You have the dashing young Gringo!" laughed Pedro harshly. "Bueno!" (Good.)
"Take him from me," begged the one who held the knife. "Bind him. We want no more trouble to-night."
Pedro and the three other new-comers threw themselves upon the young Army officer, rolling him over on his face and wrenching his arms behind him for tying.