But I'll kill him or some of his gang or her
before I let him get her. . . . This is the situation, old friend. I've
little time to spare. I face arrest for desertion. Rojas is in town.
I think I was followed to this hotel. The priest has betrayed me
or has been stopped. Mercedes is here alone, waiting, absolutely
dependent upon me to save her from--from....She's the sweetest,
loveliest girl!...In a few moments--sooner or later there'll be hell
here! Dick, are you with me?"
Dick Gale drew a long, deep breath. A coldness, a lethargy, an
indifference that had weighed upon him for months had passed out
of his being. On the instant he could not speak, but his hand
closed powerfully upon his friend's. Thorne's face changed wonderfully,
the distress, the fear, the appeal all vanishing in a smile of
passionate gratefulness.
Then Dick's gaze, attracted by some slight sound, shot over his
friend's shoulder to see a face at the window--a handsome, bold,
sneering face, with glittering dark eyes that flashed in sinister
intentness.
Dick stiffened in his seat. Thorne, with sudden clenching of hands,
wheeled toward the window.
"Rojas!" he whispered.
II
MERCEDES CASTANEDA
THE dark face vanished. Dick Gale heard footsteps and the tinkle
of spurs. He strode to the window, and was in time to see a Mexican
swagger into the front door of the saloon. Dick had only a glimpse;
but in that he saw a huge black sombrero with a gaudy band, the back
of a short, tight-fitting jacket, a heavy pearl-handled gun swinging
with a fringe of sash, and close-fitting trousers spreading wide
at the bottom.
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