"The fall of Zacatecas will be Huerta's requiescat in
pace," Luis Cervantes cried with unusual excitement.
"We've got to be there before the fight starts so that we
can join Natera's army."

Then, suddenly, he noted the surprise with which De-
metrio and his men greeted his suggestion. Crestfallen,
he realized they still considered him of no account.

On the morrow, as the men set off in search of good
mounts before taking to the road again, Demetrio called
Luis Cervantes:

"Do you really want to come with us? Of course you're
cut from another timber, we all know that; God knows
why you should like this sort of life. Do you imagine
we're in this game because we like it? Now, I like the ex-
citement all right, but that's not all. Sit down here;
that's right. Do you want to know why I'm a rebel? Well,
I'll tell you.

"Before the revolution, I had my land all plowed, see,
and just right for sowing and if it hadn't been for a little
quarrel with Don Monico, the boss of my town, Moya-
hua, I'd be there in a jiffy getting the oxen ready for the
sowing, see?

"Here, there, Pancracio, pull down two bottles of beer
for me and this tenderfoot. . . . By the Holy Cross . . .