“Those cazadores are obstinate, and Don Maccario waits,” he said.
Appleby went with him vacantly, for now the strain had slackened he felt limp and his thoughts were in a whirl. Tony, it seemed, was dying, and the almost brotherly affection Appleby had once cherished for his comrade came back to him. As yet he could only realize the one painful fact with a poignant sense of regret.
Maccario, however, had work waiting him, and the day dragged through, though Appleby never remembered clearly all that happened during it. It was noon when they had cleared the town of the last of the cazadores, and bestowed those who had the wisdom to yield themselves in the cuartel. The rest leapt to destruction from windows and roofs, or went down, grimly clenching their hot rifles, in barricaded patios and on slippery stairways. Appleby was thankful when the work was done, though he had taken no part in it for Maccario, with a wisdom his comrade had not expected, bade him organize a guard, and see that there was no purposeless destruction of property. It was not, he said, a foray the Sin Verguenza had made, but an occupation they had effected, and there was nothing to be gained by pushing the wealthy loyalists to desperation. He also observed dryly that their dollars might fail to reach the insurgent treasury at all if collected independently by the rank and file.
The task was more to Appleby’s liking than the one he had anticipated, and it was necessary, since the smaller merchants in Cuba and also in parts of Peninsular Spain have no great confidence in bankers, and prefer a packet of golden onzas or a bag of pesetas to the best accredited check. He also contrived to accomplish it with success, somewhat to the astonishment of those whose property he secured to them, when they found he demanded nothing for himself, while he fancied there was reason in his companion’s observation as they went back to report to Maccario when there was quietness in the town. Harper sighed as they came out of the last loyalist’s house.
“I guess Maccario knew what he was about when he sent you to see this contract through,” he said.
“Well,” said Appleby, “it was a trifle more pleasant than turning out the cazadores.”
Harper grinned somewhat ruefully. “That’s not quite what I mean. Any one else with our opportunities would have been rich for life. Now, you didn’t seem to notice the diamond brooch the señora took out from her laces when she asked you to keep the rabble out of the house. It would have brought two hundred dollars in New York.”
Appleby looked at him with a little dry smile. “I have asked you no questions, but your pockets are suspiciously bulky.”
“Cigars,” said Harper disgustedly, pulling out a handful.
“Worth a dollar a piece in my country by the smell of them, but I’m not setting up a tobacco store! If I ever get hold of another contract of this kind I’ll take somebody else along.”