Ahead of the Army

by William O. Stoddard

“By the Way, major,” he said, “write an order for quarters and rations for General Bravo’s messenger, Carfora. I may need him again in a few days. Keep track of him. He is a civilian, but he is a trusted agent of certain parties whom you may know.”

The major began to write something, and, as he did so, Ned believed that he heard him muttering words which sounded like: “Humph! Messenger of his Excellency, Santa Anna! We will take good care of him!”

Then the general carelessly signed the paper, which the major prepared for him, and Ned walked quietly out into the open air. Once there, however, he took a hasty look at his “order for rations,” and discovered that with it he had now in his possession a full headquarters army pass, which permitted him to come and go anywhere, through the gates and all the lines, without hindrance from anybody. He was established as an accepted and even honored confidential despatch-bearer of the commander-in-chief of all the armies of Mexico. He was not now to get entirely away without difficulty, however, for the whole building had been full of men who were eager for all the news he could give them, and they had followed him. They seized upon him as if he had been the last edition of an evening newspaper, containing the reports of all the past and with, probably, the news for to-morrow morning also somewhere inside of him. He did not get away from them for some time, and when he did so, at last, he was sure of being recognized by a considerable number of patriotic Mexicans, if they ever should meet him again. That might make him safer, although he was no longer in any immediate danger. Moreover, although he was not in uniform, the cut and quality of his clothing informed every person he met that he belonged to the higher orders, while the machete at his side and the pistols in his belt appeared to indicate that he was in some way connected with the army.

“I know what I want to do next,” he was thinking. “My pony and my satchel are at the headquarters stables. I can get them whenever I want them. I must go to the Tassara place. I can find it. Then I must manage to put them there, so that I won’t have to show myself at the headquarters unless I’m sent for.”

He had no difficulty in finding the Tassara homestead, and there was no observer anywhere near him when he stood in front of the dwelling which had been his first hospitable refuge in Mexico. It had now, of course, a lonely and shut-up look, and there was no getting in at the front door, for much knocking failed to bring a door-keeper. Giving that up, therefore, he made his way around to the rear, through the unoccupied stables.

“There is hay enough here for my pony,” he remarked, “but I had half expected that the house would be turned into quarters for troops.”

He may have overlooked the fact that the Tassaras were friends of General Morales, and that their house was under his protection. If it were supposed to be so, nevertheless, he had cause to forget it again when he came to the back door, for it stood wide open, with an appearance of having been unlocked with a hammer.

“Hullo!” he exclaimed. “I wonder if there is anybody in there now?”

The thought somehow made him draw his machete, and he went on into the house as if he were looking for a fight. The dining-room was entered first, and it was utterly empty. Not so much as a chair was left, although its owners had certainly not taken any furniture away with them in their hasty escape by night, with Ned and Zuroaga. It looked a little queer, to say the least, and, as he went on from room to room, he found precisely such a state of things everywhere else.

“I declare!” said Ned. “Either their friends or some robbers have cleaned this place of all there was in it that was worth stealing. Not so much as a bed left. I’ll go and take a look at my old room. It was a cubby-hole of a place, but it would do first-rate for me now.”