If a man thinks his guard sleeps, and makes a run for it, they do not
chase--they fire; and if he escapes unhurt, good; he is not troubled.
But the Rurales are fine shots!"

"You mean," said Sherry, "that the Rurales--your Gerado, for one--
pretended to sleep--to be careless. The fellows made a rush for it and
were dropped? Eh, Becodar, of the Little Red Peg?"

Becodar shrugged a shoulder gently. "Ah, senor, who can tell? My Gerado
is a sure shot."

"Egad," said Sherry, "who'd have thought it? It looks like a sweet
little vendetta, doesn't it? A blind beggar, too, with his Gerado to
help the thing along.

"'With his Gerado!' Sounds like a Gatling, or a bomb, or a diabolical
machine, doesn't it? And yet they talk of this country being
Americanised! You can't Americanise a country with a real history.
Well, Becodar, that's four. What of the other two that left for Kingdom
Come?"

Becodar smiled pensively. He seemed to be enduring a kind of joy, or
else making light of a kind of sorrow. "Ah, those two! They were
camping in a valley; they were escorting a small party of people who had
come to look at ruins--Diaz was President then. Well, a party of Aztecs
on the other side of the river began firing across, not as if doing or
meaning any harm. By-and-bye the shot came rattling through the tent of
the two. One got up, and yelled across to them to stop, but a chance
bullet brought him down, and then by some great mistake a lot of bullets
came through the tent, and the other soldier was killed. It was all a