"Why, señor, a man must leev," declared Juan mildly. "We get from thirty to feefty cents a day working in the mines, on the roads, in the forest—oh, yes! Señor B-Day pay the highest wages of anybody—sure. But to fight—ah! that is different, eh? One general give us seventy-fi' cents a day—good! But another offer us one dollair—'Merican. By goodness, yes! We fight for heem. Any boy that beeg enough to carry gun, he can get twice as much for fighting as he can for othair work. Sí, sí, señor."
"Oh, cricky! 'Viva Méjico!" murmured Marty.
It was just then that they turned a curve in the right of way and beheld a train standing on the track. At least, there were a locomotive and two cars.
They had not seen a human being since leaving the outskirts of the town; but here were both men and horses.
The men were armed; some of them were gayly uniformed. A young fellow in tattered khaki spurred his mount immediately toward Janice Day and her companions.
"What want you here, hombres?" he demanded in Spanish, staring at Janice. "This is the headquarters of General De Soto Palo."
Juan was dumb, and before Marty could speak Janice put the question:
"Is it possible for us to get through to the Alderdice Mine, señor?"
"Certainly not!" was the reply in good English. "Our troops have not driven out the dregs of the rebel army as yet."
"May we speak with the general?" the girl pursued faintly.