We'll plan. I'll have to
confide in Colonel Weede. Maybe he'll help us. Hide her from the
rebels--that's all."
He wrung Dick's hand, clasped Mercedes tightly in his arms, kissed
her, and murmured low over her, then released her to rush off into
the darkness. He disappeared in the gloom. The sound of his dull
footfalls gradually died away.
For a moment the desert silence oppressed Gale. He was unaccustomed
to such strange stillness. There was a low stir of sand, a rustle
of stiff leaves in the wind. How white the stars burned! Then a
coyote barked, to be bayed by a dog. Gale realized that he was
between the edge of an unknown desert and the edge of a hostile town.
He had to choose the desert, because, though he had no doubt that in Casita
there were many Americans who might befriend him, he could not chance
the risks of seeking them at night.
He felt a slight touch on his arm, felt it move down, felt Mercedes
slip a trembling cold little hand into his. Dick looked at her.
She seemed a white-faced girl now, with staring, frightened black
eyes that flashed up at him. If the loneliness, the silence, the
desert, the unknown dangers of the night affected him, what must
they be to this hunted, driven girl? Gale's heart swelled. He
was alone with her. He had no weapon, no money, no food, no drink,
no covering, nothing except his two hands. He had absolutely no
knowledge of the desert, of the direction or whereabouts of the
boundary line between the republics; he did not know where to find
the railroad, or any road or trail, or whether or not there were
towns near or far.
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