"Ah, _señor_," shrugged Del Rey, "was he not a Mexican citizen? Very well, then; he could be summoned for military service. But the circumstances were these: Your friend came yesterday to this town, where I am at present military commander, and made an unprovoked assault upon my person. For this, according to law, he should have been shot at sunrise. But, not wishing to occasion unpleasantness with the Americans now residing here, I offered him the alternative of military service. He is now enlisted as a _rural_ for a term of five years." "Five years!" exclaimed Hooker; and then, instead of starting the expected rough-house--upon which the _rural_ guards were prepared to jump on his back--he simply threw down his hat and cursed--not anyone in particular, but everything in general; and at the end of it he turned once more upon the watchful captain. "_Dispenseme, señor_," he said, "this is the truth, is it?" "_Sí, señor_," returned Captain Del Rey. "But before leaving with his detachment your friend wrote this letter, which he requested me to deliver to you." He offered with a flourish a sealed envelope, from which Bud extracted a short note. DEAR BUD: When you get this I shall be far away. I must have been mad, but it is too late now. Rather than be executed I have enlisted as a _rural_. But I shall try to be brave for her sake. Take care of her, Bud--for me! PHIL. Bud read it through again and meditated ponderously. Then he folded it up and thrust it into his pocket. "_Muchas gracias, Señor Capitan_," he said, saluting and turning upon his heel; and while all the Mexicans marveled at the inscrutable ways of _Americanos_, he mounted and rode away. XVII There was a world of Mexicans in the plaza when Hooker rode down through the town. Never, it seemed to him, had he seen so many or liked them less. To the handful of Americans who remained to man the mill and mine, they were easily a hundred to one; and though their eyes were wide with fear of the imminent rebels, they had an evil way of staring at him which he did not relish. Even at the hotel, where the Spanish-Mexican aristocracy was massed ten deep, he sensed the same feeling of veiled hostility and wondered vaguely what it might portend. If Philip De Lancey, for making love to a girl, was drafted into the army, what would happen to him if these people should ever break loose? And did they have the courage to do their worst? He lingered around the door for a while, hoping to meet Don Juan or some American who would tell him the news; then, disgusted with everything, he flung away and left them to themselves. Fortuna was not a white man's country--he could see that without a diagram--but at the same time he intended to hold his mine until he could hear from Phil.