Another head had cropped up above the edge of the roof, but when I made a dash in that quarter, the fellow let go in a hurry, and crashed down on those who were so industriously boosting him from below.
All of this in plain view of the alcalde and his merry guests, who were almost beside themselves with astonishment and rage.
The missiles flew hotter than ever, a perfect bombardment of Fort Sumter, so to speak; but my mind was now set upon finding the precious bag, and I did not even try to dodge the magnificent assortment of decayed vegetables, adobe bricks and miscellaneous gardener’s tools that clattered upon the roof.
Could I have unconsciously kicked the satchel overboard when I made my furious rush for the doughty general?
This was my first thought when I failed to locate it immediately.
Singularly enough, the loss of the exasperating thing affected me tremendously—I even dreaded the thought of facing the owner again without my trust. What would she say, and how her tears must flow for that lost photo in the silver frame—hang him!
Then sudden joy—an object caught my eye that looked suspiciously like the bag.
I pounced upon it with an eagerness born of despair, and almost shouted “hallelujah!” when I found it was what I sought.
Now to conduct a masterly retreat.
No one else had as yet appeared on the roof, and apparently my enemies had ceased to worry me for a brief interval.