“I tell you he won’t have it. Jealous of your popularity, I reckon, or else hand in glove with your charming dad-in-law, and sees a chance to make a pile. Anyhow, he’s gathering his men to march here and throw us all in prison.”
“What! more dungeons, more tortillas, frijoles and water! That settles it. Robbins, I’ll do whatever you say. Have you a balloon handy?” I asked in a humorous vein.
“No, but I’ve made sure to have horses ready,” was the quick response.
I was staggered.
It was simply astounding the way in which this wonderful man anticipated things. Here he had been secretary of war less than three hours, yet in that period of triumph, when the ordinary person would have been heedlessly celebrating, my comrade took time by the forelock, and made ready for flight.
Really, those hot-headed people never knew what a treasure they let slip through their grasp when Robbins was turned adrift; in less than a year I believe the country would have emerged from its swaddling clothes and made to assume a position among second-class nations.
Their loss was my gain, however.
“Horses? Then it’s over the mountains to Jalapa?” I said, quickly.
“Exactly. Tell your wife and the little one.”
Thus suddenly had the thunderbolt fallen, but fortunately I had plenty of reserve nervous energy to meet the new crisis.