“I told you at the outset,” said Merry, “that I had looked up many things in connection with Mexican history. From the fact that I possess certain interests in Eastern Sonora, I was led to investigate the career of Guerrero del Norte. I found that not only was he proclaimed an outlaw, but he became a leader of bandits. He retired to what he called his own land, a vast stretch of mountains and plains, and gathered about him a band of desperadoes and cutthroats. They did not labor, but they lived on the fruits of others. They made various raids to the south and to the north. At one time they ventured across the Rio Grande into Texas, but were driven back without success and with great loss of life. Guerrero, the chief, was himself seriously wounded. From this time until his death I believe he remained practically an outlaw and a bandit.” “Wait a minute, señor,” urged Del Norte. “Have you forgotten that in eighteen hundred and fifty-three, for the fifth time, Santa Anna was made president of Mexico? You must remember that General Santa Anna had reasons for feeling most friendly toward Guerrero.” “Perhaps that is true,” nodded Merry; “but by this time the life Guerrero had been leading had taken such a hold upon him that he could not abandon it. He had become a lover of brigandage. He chose to remain a bandit and a plunderer to the end of his days, and thus did he remain. Señor del Norte, I happen to know that in the end the grant of land made to Guerrero was revoked and annulled and a price placed on the head of your bandit ancestor. These are facts. You can’t deny them.” Once more the Mexican laughed, but this time there was a trace of annoyance in the sound. “I must again confess,” he said, “that Señor Merriwell’s knowledge of Mexican history and my own affairs is most astounding. It seems strange indeed that he should know so very many things about my family.” “It’s not so strange, Señor del Norte, when you consider that at the present time I have a mine in Eastern Sonora located on territory given to Guerrero in his land grant.” “Ha!” cried Porfias. “Then your mine is on that land? I thought as much! I was confident it must be! Señor, I am very sorry, but that mine belongs to me!” “You never made a greater mistake in your life,” said Merry quietly. “Before spending any great sum of money in opening up that mine, señor, I took pains to investigate thoroughly my right to the property. That’s how I came to know so much about the history of your family. I found in the City of Mexico a record of the old land grant made to Guerrero by Pedraza. I found a record of its affirmation by President Santa Anna. I also found a record of its annulment at a later period by President Santa Anna. For your sake, Señor del Norte, I am sorry; but for my own I am glad that you have not the remotest right to one inch of that land.”