When Rob saw that frown he began to fear that he and his chums might not have as smooth sailing as they had anticipated, unless something were done immediately to interest the general in their favor.
Accordingly Rob's next move was to hold up his hand, on a finger of which he had made sure to slip that queer-looking ring which Uncle Mark had seemed to believe possessed all the magic powers attributed to like rings in fairy stories.
Sure enough, no sooner had the quick glance of the general fallen on the ring than he started and looked at it more closely. Then, as an expression of intense interest flashed across his dark face, he beckoned to the scouts to draw nearer.
"Where did you get that ring, boy?" he demanded. "And who are you?"
"We belong to the Boy Scout organization, General," replied Rob soberly; "and have come several thousand miles just to meet you and show you this ring. You once put it on the finger of the man who saved your life, telling him that you would stand ready to do what you could for the one who presented it to you. That man was Dr. Mark Matthews, and this boy, here, is his nephew. Dr. Mark has recently got back from more than a year in Africa, where he was taken down with the terrible jungle fever, and is in a very bad way at the home of my friend, here. He has nothing left of his once large fortune except the property in Chihuahua—his cattle ranch, and the prize stock on it. And, General, he begs you to do what you can to dispose of the cattle, and send him the money by us. I have a letter in my coat that will explain all to you when you have more time to read it. But we only wanted to let you know that we hadn't come into Mexico to mix up in the war that is going on here. And your captain will tell you that all we did was to take care of his wounded as fast as they were hurt."
"Yes, I have already heard that Americans who were on the ground had done that; but little did I expect to learn that they were boys," the general went on to say, as he looked still more keenly at them. But Rob noticed that the scowl had now disappeared entirely from his strong features. That ring had doubtless aroused memories of the days when he was a hunted man with a price on his head, and of Dr. Mark Matthews, who had sheltered him while attending to his severe wounds.
"Do you think there is any chance of Dr. Matthews getting paid for his cattle, General?" asked Tubby, emboldened to chime in by the fact that it was a family affair.
Something like a look of pride and deep satisfaction appeared on the rebel leader's face, as he answered this question.
"Why not, when for months I have had armed guards watching the ranch, so that none of the stock could be stolen? But it could not last, and even to-day I was considering making use of the herds for my army, and settling with the owner when he came to put in a claim. Make yourselves at home with my men, for depend on it, you have not come all this way to have Pancho Villa redeem his sacred promise without reward. I am too busy now to speak further; but later on be sure to hand me the letter from my old and true friend, Dr. Matthews."
He urged his horse on and left the four scouts staring hard at each other with happy grins stealing over their faces.