"There are other bandits besides Quinteros, not so famous or such
great leaders, but just as bloodthirsty. I've seen Rojas. He's
a handsome, bold sneering devil, vainer than any peacock. He decks
himself in gold lace and sliver trappings, in all the finery he can
steal. He was one of the rebels who helped sack Sinaloa and carry
off half a million in money and valuables. Rojas spends gold like
he spills blood. But he is chiefly famous for abducting women.
The peon girls consider it an honor to be ridden off with. Rojas
has shown a penchant for girls of the better class."

Thorne wiped the perspiration from his pale face and bent a dark
gaze out of the window before he resumed his talk.

"Consider what the position of Mercedes really is. I can't get
any help from our side of the line. If so, I don't know where.
The population on that side is mostly Mexican, absolutely in
sympathy with whatever actuates those on this side. The whole
caboodle of Greasers on both sides belong to the class in sympathy
with the rebels, the class that secretly respects men like Rojas,
and hates an aristocrat like Mercedes. They would conspire to throw
her into his power. Rojas can turn all the hidden underground
influences to his ends. Unless I thwart him he'll get Mercedes as easily
as he can light a cigarette. But I'll kill him or some of his gang or her
before I let him get her. . . . This is the situation, old friend. I've
little time to spare. I face arrest for desertion. Rojas is in town.
I think I was followed to this hotel. The priest has betrayed me
or has been stopped. Mercedes is here alone, waiting, absolutely
dependent upon me to save her from--from....She's the sweetest,
loveliest girl!...In a few moments--sooner or later there'll be hell
here! Dick, are you with me?"