A loud roar, as of many voices, was heard from without, closely followed by a volley of firearms, and then two of the “Scarlet Shoulders” re-entered, bearing between them the wounded body of their comrade.
CHAPTER IV.
THE MINER’S RIOT.
“Anda, comarados,” shouted Sayosa, “push the table against the door, quick; the ladrones are here!”
This was performed, but none too soon, for, as the massive table was thrust against the closed door, a rush was heard in the outer room, and the assailants gave it a fearful shock; but thanks to its brace, the heavy puncheon did not give way, although it shook upon its hinges. A volley was fired at the door, but it was only a waste of ammunition, as the four inches of well-seasoned wood resisted all such attempts.
“Out with the lights, men, and then open the loops. Perhaps we may return the compliments of our friends outside,” added Marcos.
The shouts of the besiegers in the tap room, together with the clashing of the bar fixtures, told but too plainly the fate of the patrona’s wines and liquors. Nothing else could be expected, for the mineros were not accustomed to having such a windfall every day, and even those who usually were so chary of the exhilarating beverage when good, hard money had to be disgorged in lieu, now emptied glass after glass.
Joaquina cowered in one corner of the room, ringing her hands in despair, as she pictured her loss, praying to the Virgin that the liquor might choke the ladrones, or pouring out a torrent of vituperation that only an enraged Mexicana could invent.
“Madre de Dios, good patrona, rest your tongue for a while,” exclaimed Marcos, half impatiently, “or the padre will require a fortune before he can absolve you at next confession. Look, if you are injured by this night’s work, we will make it up to you either in money or a venta.”
“Muy bueno, then I hope the villains will drink the barrels dry, for then they would be beyond doing you any harm.”
“Ha, that is a good thought! Is there enough for that, ’na Joaquina?”