his face. After all, it was two good Spanish dollars more than he had
expected, and he returned contentedly to his shop. If such generous
young gentlemen came along every night his fortune would soon be made.

Ned soon left the shop far behind. It was a fine serape, very large,
thick and warm, and he draped himself in it in true Mexican fashion. It
kept him warm, and, wrapped in its folds, he looked much more like a
genuine Mexican. He had but little money left, but among the more
primitive people beyond the capital one might work his way. If suspected
he could claim to be English, and Mexico was not at war with England.

He bought a sombrero at another shop with almost the last of his money,
and then started toward La Viga, the canal that leads from the lower
part of the city toward the fresh water lakes, Chalco and Xochimilco. He
hoped to find at the canal one of the bergantins, or flat-bottomed
boats, in which vegetables, fruit and flowers were brought to the city
for sale. They were good-natured people, those of the bergantins, and
they would not scorn the offer of a stout lad to help with sail and oar.

Hidden in his serape and sombrero, and, secure in his knowledge of
Spanish and Mexican, he now advanced boldly through the more populous
and better lighted parts of the city. He even lingered a little while in
front of a café, where men were playing guitar and mandolin, and girls
were dancing with castanets. The sight of light and life pleased the boy
who had been so long in prison. These people were diverting themselves
and they smiled and laughed. They seemed to have kindly feelings for
everybody, but he remembered that cruel Spanish strain, often dormant,
but always there, and he hastened on.

Three officers, their swords swinging at their thighs, came down the