He was delighted beyond measure to see his dear Americano friends again. But there—it was a foregone conclusion. Nothing could withstand his soldiers. He had already telegraphed to Mexico City, of the rescue, and of the complete destruction of the band of El Tigre. What no other mayor had been able to accomplish, he had done in one fell swoop. It would probably mean—ahem—a decoration, possibly—ahem—political promotion. He trusted that his good Americano friends would report the matter at Washington. It would show how sternly the Mexican government protected the lives of foreigners in its borders.
And so he went on, in a steady stream of self laudation, that so strongly stirred the risibles of the boys that they did not dare to look at each other, for fear that they would laugh outright. But they were, after all, deeply indebted to him, no matter what his motives, and they maintained their gravity and thanked him heartily for the aid he had rendered. Only after they had reached the street, did their features relax.
"Hates himself, doesn't he?" laughed Tom.
"He sure does," responded Bert. "He ought to be nothing less than president, if you should ask him."
"He's certainly throwing himself away to stay here as mayor," added Dick. "But, considering all that's happened, I don't mind if he does pat himself on the back. But here comes the man to whom we owe an awful lot, too. I like him clear down to the ground."
It was the young captain who approached, and they greeted him heartily. He also had reason for elation, both in having avenged his brother and in having accomplished a military feat that would surely add to his reputation. But he was modest, and stoutly disclaimed that the boys owed him anything. He had simply done his duty and it was all in the day's work.
"He's the right stuff," said Tom, as they separated, after mutual expressions of esteem. "He ought to be an American." Which from patriotic, if somewhat prejudiced Tom, was the highest praise.
And now, after warmest farewells had been taken of the consul, there was nothing to keep them in Montillo. Yes, there was one thing, as Dick suddenly remembered.
"The Chink," he said. "What about him?"
"Oh, give him a little money and let him stay here," suggested Tom. "He can easily get something to do."