"Hello, Dick! Good news and bad!" he said, putting the letter in
Dick's hand. "Had no trouble finding your friend Thorne. Looked
like he'd been drunk for a week! Say, he nearly threw a fit. I
never saw a fellow so wild with joy. He made sure you and Mercedes
were lost in the desert. He wrote two letters which I brought.
Don't mistake me, boy, it was some fun with Mercedes just now.
I teased her, wouldn't give her the letter. You ought to have seen
her eyes. If ever you see a black-and-white desert hawk swoop
down upon a quail, then you'll know how Mercedes pounced upon
her letter...Well, Casita is one hell of a place these days. I
tried to get your baggage, and I think I made a mistake. We're
going to see travel toward Forlorn River. The federal garrison
got reinforcements from somewhere, and is holding out. There's
been fighting for three days. The rebels have a string of flat
railroad cars, all iron, and they ran this up within range of the
barricades. They've got some machine guns, and they're going to lick
the federals sure. There are dead soldiers in the ditches, Mexican
non-combatants lying dead in the streets--and buzzards everywhere!
It's reported that Campo, the rebel leader, is on the way up from Sinaloa,
and Huerta, a federal general, is coming to relieve the garrison.
I don't take much stock in reports. But there's hell in Casita, all right."
"Do you think we'll have trouble out here?" asked Dick, excitedly.
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