“Rodriguez with you, and wishes to aid us?” he cried gladly, as Phil told of the intention of the wealthy native. “Well, that certainly is cheering news.”
Rodriguez came into the office and stood with dignified bearing before the big judge-advocate.
“So you are tired of being neutral?” the army officer said pointedly in Spanish. “Do you wish to occupy the position just vacated by our mutual friend Espinosa?”
Rodriguez drew himself up proudly while the midshipmen gasped at this harsh arraignment.
“I do not blame you, señor,” the native answered, no evidence of anger on his placid face. “I know that you can have but little reason to trust the honesty of the men of my race. But I do not desire a position. I am now ready to take the field with my men, heretofore neutral. I have three hundred rifles.”
“You are ready then to take the oath of allegiance?” Captain Blynn asked in official tones.
“Yes, señor, and keep it,” Rodriguez returned, his eyes unflinching.
“Have you any news that will lead to our knowing the whereabouts of Lieutenant Tillotson?” Blynn asked.
“Ah, I have,” the native answered eagerly. “I was about to ask you—my spies report a captive with Espinosa.”
The Americans gave sighs of relief. At least Tillotson was alive.