“I understand he has decided to deport me,” retorted Megales lightly. “It is perhaps better politics, on the whole, better even than a knife in the back.”
“Unless rumor is a lying jade, you should be a good judge of that, governor,” said the American, eyeing him sternly.
Megales shrugged. “One of the penalties of fame is that one gets credit for much he does not deserve. There was your immortal General Lincoln, a wit so famous in your country that every good story is fathered upon him, I understand. So with your humble servant. Let a man accomplish his vendetta upon the body of an enemy, and behold! the world cries: ‘A victim of Megales.’”
“Still, if you deserve your reputation as much as our immortal General Lincoln deserves his, the world may be pardoned for an occasional error.” O’Connor turned to the warden. “What does he mean by saying that he is my prisoner? Have you a message for me from O’Halloran, colonel?”
“It is his desire, señor, that, pending the present uncertain state of public opinion, you accept the command of the prison and hold safe all persons detained here, including his excellency and General Carlo. He desired me to assure you that as soon as is possible he will arrive to confer with you in person.”
“Good enough, and are you a prisoner, too, colonel?”
“I did not so understand Señor O’Halloran.”
“If you’re not you have to earn your grub and lodgings. I’ll appoint you my deputy, colonel. And, first off, my orders are to lock up his excellency and General Carlo in this cell till morning.”
“The cell, Señor O’Connor, is damp and badly ventilated,” protested Gabilonda.
“I know that a heap better than you do, colonel,” said Bucky dryly. “But if it was good enough for me and my pardner, here, I reckon it’s good enough for them. Anyhow, we’ll let them try it, won’t we, Frank.”