"Villa is coming!"

The news spread like lightning. Villa--the magic word!
The Great Man, the salient profile, the unconquerable
warrior who, even at a distance, exerts the fascination of
a reptile, a boa constrictor.

"Our Mexican Napoleon!" exclaimed Luis Cervantes.

"Yes! The Aztec Eagle! He buried his beak of steel
in the head of Huerta the serpent!" Solis, Natera's chief
of staff, remarked somewhat ironically, adding: "At least,
that's how I expressed it in a speech I made at Ciudad
Juarez!"

The two sat at the bar of the saloon, drinking beer.
The "high hats," wearing mufflers around their necks and
thick rough leather shoes on their feet, ate and drank
endlessly. Their gnarled hands loomed across table,
across bar. All their talk was of Villa and his men. The
tales Natera's followers related won gasps of astonish-
ment from Demetrio's men. Villa! Villa's battles! Ciu-
dad Juarez . . . Tierra Blanca . . . Chihuahua . . . Tor-
reon. . . .

The bare facts, the mere citing of observation and ex-
perience meant nothing. But the real story, with its ex-
traordinary contrasts of high exploits and abysmal cruel-
ties was quite different. Villa, indomitable lord of the
sierra, the eternal victim of all governments . . . Villa