"We are old friends," I answered. "I used to know him years ago when he kept a Mexican cigar store in Buffalo. It occurred to me that I might be able to help the cause of peaceful intervention. I have already had a certain experience in Turkey. I am commissioned to make General Villa an offer."
"I see," said Raymon. "In that case, if we are to find Villa let us make all haste forward. And first we must direct ourselves yonder"—he pointed in a vague way towards the mountains—"where we must presently leave our car and go on foot, to the camp of General Carranza."
"Carranza!" I exclaimed. "But he is fighting Villa!"
"Exactly. It is possible—not certain—but possible, that he knows where Villa is. In our Mexico when two of our generalistas are fighting in the mountains, they keep coming across one another. It is hard to avoid it."
"Good," I said. "Let us go forward."
It was two days later that we reached Carranza's camp in the mountains.
We found him just at dusk seated at a little table beneath a tree.
His followers were all about, picketing their horses and lighting fires.
The General, buried in a book before him, noticed neither the movements of his own men nor our approach.
I must say that I was surprised beyond measure at his appearance.