Marty, meanwhile, sat comfortably on the car steps in the shade and said to Juan:
"I guess you can beat it back to town, old man, if you want to. I have a hunch that, in spite of that gun you swing, and your look like a picture of a Spanish pirate I saw once, you ain't no fighting man; are you?"
"As the señor says," admitted Juan with a toothful grin and his yellow eyes squinting, "I am a man of peace—by goodness, yes!"
"All right. Here's a dollar—you're welcome to it. You're the only Mexican I've seen that didn't claim to be a fire-eater," and Marty chuckled. "You see, Janice knows the commander's lady and I fancy it's a cinch for us to reach Uncle Brocky now. Da, da, Juan."
"Adios, señor," responded the man and kicked the burro to start that peacefully grazing animal back along the railroad bed.
Suddenly the distant sound of firing disturbed the placidity of the scene about the "headquarters." The little group of officers began to show excitement.
"Sounds like a lot o' ginger-beer corks popping," thought Marty. "Must be something doing." He immediately grew eager himself.
When a little pudgy man in a red and green uniform, a plume in his hat, and yellow gauntlets, came from the forward car and mounted a horse held for him obsequiously, the boy knew he was viewing General De Soto Palo in all his dignity and glory. Truly it was the magnificent Madam's fate to be admired by the "so-leetle" men—her husband not excepted.
"Hi tunket! I'd like to go with 'em," muttered Marty, as the cavalcade of officers rode swiftly away. "But I s'pose I got to stay on the job and guard Janice. Sometimes girls are certainly a nuisance."
There was a jar throughout the short train. The couplings tightened. With a squeal of escaping steam the locomotive forged ahead, dragging the general's headquarters car and Madam's living car with it.