The soldier boy whistled gayly as he walked. Oddly enough, just as he reached the sleeping Gringo, the outflung arm lifted abruptly from the ground for an inch or two. A little package shot four feet up into the air and was caught deftly by the barefoot trooper as it descended. The lips of Harrison barely moved. "Ride to-night, Enrique. Colonel Farrugia will also reward you well." "Si, senor," nodded Enrique, and went on his way. The face of the boy was toward the camp on the return journey. The American was still fast asleep. The lad went whistling past him without any sign of recognition. Several times during the next hour Harrison took a long pull from a bottle he carried in his coat pocket. After a time he rose and walked heavily down the main street of the village until he came to the house where Captain Holcomb had been put up. The Texan was sitting on his porch smoking a pipe. Behind him, a few feet away, Cabenza was cleaning a rifle for his new master. "I wanta talk to you about something, Captain Holcomb," announced the film actor. The soldier looked at him steadily. "Go to it," he ordered curtly. "This is private business." Holcomb did not turn his head or raise his voice. "Pedro, vamos." The feet of Cabenza could be heard hitting the dust as he vanished around the corner of the house. Without beating around the bush Harrison came to his subject. He jerked a thumb over his right shoulder. "It's that girl up at the house there I want to talk about." "What about her?" "He's got no business keeping her there. She's a straight girl." "Is she?" "Yes, sir. She is." "Then why did you bring her here?" Holcomb's question was like the thrust of a sword. "Because I was a fool." "Better give things their right names. You were a damned villain." A dull flush rose to the cheeks of the prizefighter. "All right. Let it go at that. I guess you're right. What I want to know now is whether you're going to stand for Pasquale's play. He's got one wife already--half a dozen, far as I know. You going to let him put this wedding farce over without a kick?" "Can I stop it?" "You can register a roar, can't you?" "Would it do any good? Did yours?" "You're different. He needs you to drill this ragged bunch of hoboes he calls an army. Pasquale has a lot of respect for you. He talked a lot about you before you came." "If you want to know, I've already spoken to him about it." "What did he say?" "Gave me to understand that if I'd attend to my business he'd mind his. And I'm going to do it," concluded Holcomb with sharp decision. "You mean you're going to lie down like a yellow dog and quit, that you'll let this wolf take that lamb and ruin her life! Is that what you mean?"