"It's no use, boys," said Captain Skinner to his crest-fallen band. "It's martial law, and we may as well submit. We'd best mount and ride now."
Again General Garcia felt called upon to smile and be very polite. His command was greatly in need of horses. Those of the American caballeros were just suited to cavalry use. He had given orders to supply their places with ponies good enough for ordinary travel.
"Oh, if we only had our rifles, Cap!" exclaimed Bill. "Anyhow, we'll get our saddles back."
More than one bearded face grew a little pale at the thought of those saddles.
The General's own chief of staff had attended to their transfer from the backs of the splendid American horses to those of the wretched little Mexican ponies, and he had noticed how heavy they all were. It was his duty, therefore, to search them, and not a saddle among them all was now any heavier than a saddle of that size ought to be.
"The ponies," remarked the polite Mexican, "are not strong enough to carry all that gold bullion as well as those heavy Gringo miners."
It was a sad dinner party for Captain Skinner and his miners. It had been planned for them by their friend the Colonel of lancers, and General Garcia had carried it out to perfection. He even gave them a good supply of coffee and other matters when they departed, and added, politely: "My dear Captain, I have not been so unkind as to search you. You will no doubt have that happiness also in due time."
"Not a doubt of it," growled the Captain, "now we're unarmed."
And it turned out as he feared, for not an ounce of stolen gold was to be found in the pockets of that ragged band within ten days of their "first good dinner."