“I may conclude, then, that Mike O’Halloran has been getting in his work?” was his cool reply. “Exactly, señor. He is the man on horseback and I travel afoot,” smiled Megales. Bucky looked him over coolly from head to foot. “Still I can’t quite understand why your ex-excellency does me the honor of a personal visit.” “Because, señor, in the course of human events Providence has seen fit to reverse our positions. I am now your prisoner and you my jailer,” explained Megales, and urbanely added a whimsical question. “Shall you have me hanged at dawn?” “It would be a pleasure, and, I reckon, a duty too. But I can’t promise till I’ve seen Mike. Do some more explaining, colonel. I want to know all about the round-up O’Halloran is boss of. Did he make a right good gather?” The subtleties of American humor baffled the little Mexican, but he appreciated the main drift of the ranger’s query, and narrated with much gesticulation the story of the coup that O’Halloran had pulled off in capturing the government leaders. “It was an exceedingly neat piece of strategy,” its victim admitted. “I would give a good deal to have the privilege of hanging your red-headed friend, but since that is denied me, I must be grateful he does not take a fancy to hang me.” “In case he doesn’t, your excellency,” was Bucky’s addendum. “I understand he has decided to deport me,” retorted Megales lightly. “It is perhaps better politics, on the whole, better even than a knife in the back.” “Unless rumor is a lying jade, you should be a good judge of that, governor,” said the American, eyeing him sternly. Megales shrugged. “One of the penalties of fame is that one gets credit for much he does not deserve. There was your immortal General Lincoln, a wit so famous in your country that every good story is fathered upon him, I understand. So with your humble servant. Let a man accomplish his vendetta upon the body of an enemy, and behold! the world cries: ‘A victim of Megales.’” “Still, if you deserve your reputation as much as our immortal General Lincoln deserves his, the world may be pardoned for an occasional error.” O’Connor turned to the warden. “What does he mean by saying that he is my prisoner? Have you a message for me from O’Halloran, colonel?” “It is his desire, señor, that, pending the present uncertain state of public opinion, you accept the command of the prison and hold safe all persons detained here, including his excellency and General Carlo. He desired me to assure you that as soon as is possible he will arrive to confer with you in person.” “Good enough, and are you a prisoner, too, colonel?” “I did not so understand Señor O’Halloran.” “If you’re not you have to earn your grub and lodgings. I’ll appoint you my deputy, colonel. And, first off, my orders are to lock up his excellency and General Carlo in this cell till morning.” “The cell, Señor O’Connor, is damp and badly ventilated,” protested Gabilonda.