"It is too long a story to relate to you now, senors," rejoined Bob Harding, "I may tell you, though, that they are safe at the hacienda of a friend. But your boy is seriously wounded, and must see you at once." "Good Heavens, Geisler! This is terrible news, Mr.--Mr.----" "Mr. Allen, of New York," put in Harding glibly. "Terrible news that Mr. Allen of New York brings us. You were with them, Mr. Allen?" "I was, sir. In my capacity as war correspondent for the _Planet_, I was with Madero's column. But, in the moment of defeat at the hands of the regulars, the miserable greasers turned on me as a gringo. I was compelled to flee for my life. First, however, I cut the bonds of our young friends and their comrades, and under cover of night we escaped." Bob Harding was certainly warming to his subject as he went along. Mr. Merrill regarded him with gratitude. "I've a horse in the stables, Mr. Allen," he said. "I'll saddle up, right away, and accompany you. How can I ever thank you for all you have done for my boy and his friends?" "Don't mention it," said Allen glibly; "we Americans must do little things for one another, you know. But hurry, sir. Your boy was calling for you when I left." "Poor lad!" exclaimed the deluded mine owner, hastening toward the stable. "Geisler, you must stay and look after the place. How far is it, Mr. Allen?" "Not more than ten miles, sir," was the rejoinder. "I can ride there and back before dark, then," declared Mr. Merrill. "If the lad is strong enough to be moved, I'll bring him with me." All this time Geisler had been examining "Mr. Allen's" horse with a singular expression. As the miner owner vanished in the direction of the stable, he spoke: "Dot poor horse of yours vos aboudt tuckered in, aindt it?" he inquired. "Yes, poor brute," rejoined Bob Harding, "I rode at a furious pace." "Und got all der dust on his chest, und none on his hind quvarters," commented the German suspiciously. But Harding returned his gaze frankly, and wiped his brow with a great appearance of weariness. "Is that so?" he said. "I didn't notice it. But then, I rode so hard, and----" "Are you ready, Mr. Allen?" It was Mr. Merrill's voice. He rode up, as he spoke, on a big chestnut, which he had saddled and bridled faster than he had ever equipped a horse before. "All ready, sir," was the response, as Bob Harding swung himself into his saddle again. Geisler had run into the office. Now he reappeared, holding something under his coat. He approached Mr. Merrill's side, and, while Bob Harding was leaning over examining his saddle-girth, the German slipped the object he held to his employer. "Idt's a gun," he whispered. "Keep idt handy. Py chiminy, I dink maype you need him pefore you get through." "With the insurrectos in retreat?" laughed Mr. Merrill. "Geisler, you are getting nervous in your old age. Come, Mr. Allen, let's be getting forward, I can hardly wait till I see my boy."