Covered by the flag"You can't touch Rudolph!" she tried. "He's under the flag!"
"You can't touch Rudolph!" she tried. "He's under the flag!"
A drift of damp air floated in from thewindow, and the sleeper shivered and moved as if to cuddle further under his shelter. Louise very gently drew the bunting folds closer about his neck. Somehow sheknewthat this was not desecration.
That steady step from below again and—nearer!
But just at that moment the boys came noisily back from the distant wings and gables.
"Hello, Louise! What are you doing there?" Luke Musgrove called.
Louise started up. She was between them and the sleeping boy, but she could not screen him from their astonished eyes.
"Gee, but there he is!" exclaimed Billy. "Let's——"
But the spirit of a long line of just and fair Americans was facing them. Louise Carey was descended from ancestors who had bought freedom and fair play with their blood, so in that hour—when she faced the unthinking lawless—there was a something in her eyes which brought them to a stand before her.
"You can't touch Rudolph!" she cried. "He's under the flag!"
A quiet fell upon them. They looked first at the sacred, sheltering flag of their country, and then at each other. And while they yet paused in awe there came to them the sound of a steady, familiar step on the garret stair. The next moment the door opened and there entered Miss Barclay—the teacher who, by her wisdom and her justice, could always command to stillness the tempests of their childish hearts.
Little Riego Yañez was a native of Mexico—of that unhappy part of Mexico which is constantly plundered by revolutionary bands who spend their time in fighting, and who win their supplies by robbing the more stable people of the republic.
Riego's father, Antonio Yañez, had suffered many times at the hands of the revolutionists. He was a saddler by trade, and also a small farmer, so the products of his industry were just what the warring bandits needed. But the warring bandits did not pay for what they needed. They merely took, and rode away!
So Antonio decided on a desperate step—he would emigrate to America.
But Riego's mother objected to removing to America. Mexico was rife with hatred and distrust of the "gringos," and many and dark were the stories told of the country north of the Great North River. Besides, Riego'selder brother, Pascual, an unruly lad of fifteen, was very bitterly opposed to the change.
So it was at length decided that Antonio should dare alone the dangers and hardships of America. If all was as the revolutionists said, he could escape back to Chihuahua. If, by happy chance, he should prosper in the new country, he would send for wife and children.
A year passed. The father's letters—few and short, for he had had little schooling—were chiefly concerned with begging them to come and see for themselves.
Then, one never-to-be-forgotten day, the mother and children packed into a hired wagon the tragic little which the bandits had left them, and set their faces toward the Rio Grande. They, too, were bound for that distrusted country which lay north of the northern edge of their world. The mother and the two girls were hopeful, but Pascual was silent and Riego afraid.
Not till the night came down did they reach the dark river which was to flow forever betweenthe old life and the new. To little ten-year-old Riego this all-pervading darkness meant "America," for to his drowsy brain and anxious heart the black clouds above and the darkly rolling waters below seemed to typify the spirit of the land into which he was crossing.
Another moment, however, and he had given up the struggle to think it all out and fallen asleep with his head on his mother's lap.
The next morning Riego waked up in a better land.
He sat up on his cot and blinked his black eyes and stared about him at the cosey little room. A flood of light poured in at the one tiny window—Then the sundidshine in this land of the gringos!
This was very interesting. Riego hurried into his clothes and started out to see America.
His route of exploration led through a cheery kitchen, where he found his two sisters busy cooking breakfast, and smiling and chatting at their work. But Riego had notime to stop and question, for the green things in the little garden beyond were beckoning to him.
In another minute he was out among them. It was very green—this "America"—very green and very sunny, with rows upon rows of the most wonderful vegetables running out to meet the morning sun!
Soon Riego glimpsed his father and mother beyond a dividing fence at the side, and he ran at once to his father's arms. After the first long embrace Riego drew back, the better to see the father who had dared America alone for his children's sake.
Why—his brow was smoother than Riego remembered!—his eyes clearer!—Did one grow younger, happier, in America?
And now Riego's mother was calling his attention to the snow-white chickens which fluttered about them. There was a cow, too, Riego learned—a cow and a pony and pigs and pigeons—andall theirs!
Riego shouted for joy. But the next moment the joy died upon his lips, and he asked:
"The revolutionists, father? How long will they let us have these?"
"Riego," said his father, "there are no revolutionists in America. Here, if a man works, he receives a just reward, and he is allowed to keep in peace what he earns. Our only danger is from across the border."
Then Riego's mother told him that his father had a fine saddle-shop which the Americans never raided.
It was all very, very wonderful!—A man was paid well for working, and could keep in peace what he earned!—Was this what was meant by "America"?
Riego's father's saddle-shop was the front room of their little dwelling, and opened immediately upon a small street in the Mexican quarter of the village. It was a very interesting place, indeed, for the wide door and the hospitable bench just inside invited in many an entertaining visitor, besides the men who came to buy saddles or to have their harness repaired.
One of these visitors, Alonzo Lorente, wasparticularly interesting to Riego and his brother, though their father always became moodily quiet when the man came. Lorente was a big, dashing fellow, full of strange oaths and of dark insinuations. And somehow, whenever he entered, the air of the shop became electric with an indefinable excitement.
It did not take Riego long to see that, at such times, his father managed to keep him and Pascual so busy that they missed most of their hero's inspiriting talk. Riego was particularly unfortunate in this respect. He spent little of his time in the shop where his father and Pascual plied the saddler's trade, for it was his duty to help in the market-garden.
This deprivation of Lorente's society, however, had its compensations. It was Riego's especial work to peddle their vegetables at the khaki tents of the gringo soldiers a few miles away, and this was very entertaining and exciting in itself, for the soldiers were jolly and kind and said nice things to one.
And then, one rainy Saturday afternoon, when the peddling was all done, Riego sat in his father's shop and listened to Alonzo Lorente. And Alonzo Lorente startled him awake with the news that all was not well with the land of America. He spoke darkly of "gringos" and of "vengeance."
Pascual, Riego noticed, crept closer and closer to the big man, till his fingers forgot the leather they should have been stretching.
It was then that the unexpected happened. The father, usually so quiet and so busy, suddenly rose from his work-bench and came forward.
"Lorente," he said, and Pascual and Riego started at the iron in his tone, "Lorente, it is not the busy men who have quarrel with America. It is those who have time to do—much talking!"
There was a pause and dead silence, and then Lorente the magnificent turned on his heel with a growl and left the shop.
Then Antonio returned to his work-bench, with Riego following, but Pascual stole to thedoor and gazed at the receding Lorente till his father called him sharply to his duties.
One day the father did not open his shop at all. It was closed in honor of the great American festival, Riego heard him explain grimly to a follower of Lorente, who questioned. And Riego heard the follower of Lorente laugh scornfully as he strode away.
There being no work that day, Pascual and Riego set out together to explore the yet farther reaches of America.
But they had not gone far past the square where loomed the several American stores when they sighted a crowd in a grove of big trees, and heard voices shouting and hands clapping as if in great joy. A number of gringo soldiers were roving about. Two were coming leisurely toward them across the green.
Riego wanted to press forward to see and hear, but his brother jerked him by the sleeve, exclaiming:
"It is the Americans' great feast-day, the Fourth of July. Come away!"
"But father saysweare Americans now. Why can't we go and hear what they are saying?" Riego's voice had risen in his eagerness.
The approaching soldiers stopped and looked at him, and Riego's heart stopped, too.
But the taller of the soldiers saluted him in fine fashion, and addressed to him words of courteous welcome:
"Don Pedro de Alvarado-Rain-in-the-Face-Sitting-Bull, for such as thou art is the picnic! Welcome to our city!"
Riego understood the gesture of invitation. He thanked the courtly soldier, and walked proudly forward, followed by his brother.
It was a gay scene, but quiet now, for someone was speaking. The starry banner of America fluttered everywhere, and smiling, white-faced señoritas and brown-clad soldiers were gathered here and there in listening groups. Under a tree, near the platform, sat musicians with shining silver horns and a big drum. A number of children were seated on the grass in front of the stand. Among them,Riego noticed, were many dark faces like his own.
Suddenly Riego's courage gave way and he started to retreat. But a sweet-faced señora took him by the hand and led him and Pascual to a place where they could see everything, whispering as they went:
"It is our day of freedom."
At first the boy was dazed by the strangeness of the scene, and his interest shifted. But the sound of a sweet, ringing voice soon compelled his attention and he turned quickly toward the platform.
Riego caught his breath. Who was it?Whatwas it that was speaking to him?
In the centre of the platform stood a clear-eyed, white-faced goddess, with the flag of the new country draped around her slender form, and the sunlight of this day of freedom beating down upon her shining head. She was speaking, but in the difficult new tongue.
Riego could not take his eyes away, but he reached out his hand quickly to touch Pascual.
The sweet-faced señora leaned over him.
"America," she whispered in explanation.
America!Beautiful America! Riego crept forward, unconscious now of the crowd around. Oh, tounderstandAmerica!
Then a strange thing happened. The beautiful goddess suddenly ceased speaking, and her face became clouded with thought. Her eyes were focussed on the eager boy who had crept forward and was standing spellbound before her—the most conspicuous of the group of dark-faced, bewildered children.
Riego did not know that everybody in that audience had suddenly leaned forward in dead silence.
After one tense moment the Beautiful One advanced to the edge of the platform and descended the steps till she stood almost among them.
And now this strange, new, better country was speaking to Riegoin his own tongue!
"You didn'tunderstandme, did you?" she asked in Spanish.
"Notthen, my lady!—butnow!" It was Riego who answered her, but the other darkfaces were alight like his own now. The crowd was leaning forward again.
"Ah, that is all the trouble!" said the Beautiful One. "Our new people simply do not understand America! Do you wish me to tell you the story in Spanish?"
There were many who answered this time.
Then she told them in their own tongue of the great struggle for a new freedom and a new peace which had been waged upon this soil over a hundred years before. And the breathless children heard how this new ideal of freedom had passed all bounds of the country in which it was born, and thrilled all lands. They heard how the noble La Fayette of France, Steuben of Prussia, and Kosciuszko of Poland each had offered his all that America might be forever a refuge for the oppressed. They learned how the German De Kalb had laid down his life at Camden for the new faith, and how Count Pulaski had poured out the last drop of his Polish blood to make the world's great dream of freedom "come true."
Then the Beautiful One told the children how, throughout the more than one hundred years since the fight was won, the footsore and oppressed of many lands have found in America work and a just reward for working, the freedom to do anything which does not harm another, and the great gift of peace!
"And now," exclaimed the speaker, "which of you will promise with me to be loyal to America? Stand up!"
And they stood up—the dark children, the white-faced señoritas, the gringo soldiers, and all!—and repeated after the Beautiful One:
"I pledge allegiance to my flag and to the republic for which it stands,One nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all."
"I pledge allegiance to my flag and to the republic for which it stands,One nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all."
When Riego turned from the inspiring scene it was to see his brother Pascual walking away, and in close conversation with Alonzo Lorente.
*****
The days passed, but Riego still treasured in his heart his first vision of America. Heknew now that the Beautiful One was only a charming señorita and daughter of the big captain who commanded at the American camp. But he liked to think of her as "America"—the beneficent goddess who had smoothed the furrows from his father's brow and crowned his faithful labors with reward.
And then, one momentous day, the Beautiful One stood in the shop-door, asking in Spanish if she might be allowed to enter. She was all in white this time—snow-white. To Riego's fond imagination she was still a shining goddess.
Riego's father welcomed the señorita and dusted the bench that she might sit and rest, for Riego had told him of the great American festival, and Antonio had learned much besides.
The señorita had come to speak to the father about his sons—and her smiling glance included both the sullen Pascual and Riego, who stood worshipfully by.
It seemed that the señorita—Miss Flora Arden was her name—was to teach a class of"newly made Americans," and again her glance included the boys. She wanted to teach them to speak the English language and to help them to a better understanding of America. The señorita believed that most of the trouble which the newly made Americans encountered was due to the fact that they did not know how to find and use the good gifts which their new country had to offer. And she was certain that most of the trouble theygavewas because they brought old prejudices with them, and so did not open their hearts to America.
Riego understood the spirit of her proposal better than he did the words of her correct Spanish. His father listened throughout with thoughtful, grave attention.
There were no charges to be made for this teaching? Then what was the señorita to gain for so much effort?
"I?" said the señorita—she was standing now, ready to depart—"I gain a better country! My father is a soldier and serves his country by helping to keep the peace alongthis troubled border. If I had been a son I might have done as much. But I am only a daughter, Antonio! And yet"—and she put her arm over Riego's shoulders as she spoke—"if I help to make loyal evenoneof America's adopted sons, am not I, too, serving my country?"
The father's rare smile assented to her offer, even before his lips made the promise.
Riego followed the Beautiful One to the door.
Outside, Alonzo Lorente slouched against a lamp-post. The señorita looked into Lorente's face and recoiled slightly. Riego saw the recoil, and an unnamed fear suddenly laid its hand upon his heart.
*****
Pascual and Riego went to Miss Arden's class—Pascual sullen and uninterested, Riego breathlessly eager. But they had not attended many times—indeed, had just begun to glimpse something of the bigness and goodness of their new country—when the stroke fell that was to change their little world.The good father dropped at his work-bench, speechless and bewildered. The American doctor said he would be able to work again, but that his mind would never be quite the same.
Their wise father thus reduced to childishness, and their mother ignorant of the new conditions and the new tongue, the boys were left to plan for themselves.
Pascual left Miss Arden's class. He explained that he would now have to take charge of his father's shop; but he found time to make many trips across the dark Rio Grande and to talk much with Lorente, who now resumed his old practice of dropping in at the shop to chat. His younger brother, however, continued under the señorita's instruction.
Riego learned at Miss Arden's class that "freedom" gives one the right to do as he wishes only in so far as he does not wish to interfere with the rights of another.
"There is no 'freedom' except in loyal obedience to law," she told him one day. "America is a 'free' country because—though hereare gathered people from all lands—they join together in making laws which are kind and impartial to all, and they stand together in support of the laws they make."
"But, señorita, Alonzo Lorente says—" began the boy, and stopped short.
"What does Alonzo Lorente say?" the señorita asked quickly.
"I—I promised not to tell," stammered the child.
There was the blue truth of heaven in the señorita's eyes as she looked into his own, and answered: "Riego, it is more than dishonest in Lorente to accept the blessings which America affords him and not be true to her. It is worse than traitorous in him to help spoil the peace of the country which is his refuge from oppression. If Alonzo Lorente likes the old way better than the new, he should go back to the old country. If he honestly wishes to change what he finds here, and thinks he can better things, he has one man's just share in deciding, for he is a naturalized citizen and can vote on any question.But Alonzo Lorenteshould speak out openly or else keep silent!"
Before Riego left that afternoon Miss Arden had him repeat with her:
"I pledge allegiance to my flag and to the republic for which it stands,One nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all."
"I pledge allegiance to my flag and to the republic for which it stands,One nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all."
But little Riego did not dream in how short a time would his loyalty to his new country be tested. One afternoon—his father was still lying unconscious—Riego was tending the shop alone, for Pascual had crossed the Rio Grande in the early morning and had not yet returned.
It was a dull, dull afternoon, for no patrons came, and the visitors merely glanced in and passed on. It was hot and still, so the sleepy Riego decided to rest. He found a cool spot behind a pile of boxes, and lay down and closed his eyes.
*****
When Riego opened his eyes again it waswith a start. There were voices—smothered voices—some men were in the shop! Riego lay still and listened.
"We will attack the gringo camp to-night—just before dawn," a smothered voice was saying. "Alva has three hundred men and more. They can easily surprise and destroy these eighty Americans, and so can seize their horses and ammunition."
"But the patrol?" It was Pascual's voice that whispered the question. Riego's heart turned sick. He recognized the voice of Lorente in the terrifying reply:
"Pacheco and a picked few will knife the patrol at the ford, then Alva's men will cross, and approach the camp up the ravine."
"To-morrow morning?" Pascual's voice asked.
"Yes, just before dawn."
There were approaching steps on the street.
A customer entered. Riego heard Lorente departing—heard the customer inquire the price of a saddle, and go out.
It must be donenow—now while Pascualwas alone, and he could speak to him! The next moment Riego stood before his brother.
"I heard you!" he cried. "Pascual, theymust not!"
But Pascual laid a fierce hand upon his breast and pinned him to the wall.
It was a terrible scene—that which followed—terrible in the tense quiet of its enactment—terrible in its outcome!
With Riego pinned against the wall where he needs must listen, Pascual poured forth such a torrent of abuse, of falsehood, against the "gringos" that at length the old hate blood leapt in the younger boy's veins and went beating through his brain.
The gringos were their enemies—enemies! The men who were coming down upon them with the dawn were of their own blood, of their native country! What if the invaderswere"revolutionists"? Were they notMexican? Talk of "loyalty"—one must be loyal toone's own!
When Pascual loosed his grip upon the slight form it was after he had stirred to the verydregs all that was passionate, all that was ignorant and prejudiced and violent, in the boy's nature.
That afternoon Riego did not report at Miss Arden's class, but long after class hour he was obliged to pass her house on the mission to deliver a mended harness to a farmer living near the American camp.
Miss Arden and her mother, Riego knew, were the only members of the big captain's family. They lived in a large house in the woods, half-way between the town and the camp. He knew also that the big captain stayed in camp.
As Riego emerged from the long stretch of lonely woods which separated Miss Arden's house from the town, and as he faced the other long stretch of woods which lay between him and the camp, the boy was struck by the isolation of the señorita's home.
He reflected, however, that Alva's men were to attack the gringo soldiers by way of the ford, and that the ford lay to the right yonder, far out of connection with the captain'shouse. He was glad—glad that Alva's men would not come that way!
Suddenly he spied the señorita herself. She was standing on the steps of her father's home. Riego's heart bounded within him at sight of her. He pulled down his hat and hoped to pass unrecognized, but the sweet, familiar voice called:
"Riego!"
He did not answer.
Then she ran down the steps to him, and put her gentle hands upon him, turning him to her against his will.
"What is the matter, Riego?" she asked.
No answer.
"You didn't come to class this afternoon."
No answer.
"I'm sorry," she said, after a moment of silence in which she looked searchingly into his face, "because we had an interesting lesson to-day. It was all about what one ought to do in case one should be forced tochoose betweenthe old land and the new."
The boy gave a swift, upward glance ather, then dropped his eyes to the ground again. Miss Arden continued, and her voice was very serious now:
"And we decided, Riego, that one ought to think out carefully which country was really the better, and be true to that, because there is a higher duty than that to party or country, and that is—to the principles of justice and freedom."
Riego's head sank lower. The Beautiful One took one of his brown hands into her own.
"And we said"—was she looking into the dark heart of him?—"that whichever way one chose, one should chooseopenly. Now this little brown hand could never——"
But the little brown hand was snatched away, and with a great sob the child fled into the woods.
When at last that night Riego did fall asleep he dreamed that his beautiful America came to him with her white arms held out in appeal, and that he slipped a dagger out of his bosom and stabbed her to the heart.
He started, awake, and sat up. It was black dark.
Had Alva struck already? Or was there yet time?
Ten feet away was Pascual's cot—he must not wake Pascual! As still as death he slipped out of his bed, pulled on his overalls that he had hung near, and crept out into the moonless night.
Riego could not think—it was all so desperate! He could only respond to the heart that was in him, and creep forward through the dark. But his feet knew the road that he took, though his brain was reeling. He was going straight to the one who had wakened the new loyalty in him—his beautiful America!
"I pledge allegiance to my flag and to the republic for which it stands," went surging through him as he struggled on.
Riego was not grandly heroic; he was only a frightened little boy, but determined now to do his loyal best for the country that had sheltered him from oppression. And so,though the treacherous sands might seek to drag him down, though the dark chaparral yonder might hide—any fearsome thing!—Riego went forward.
And now the house of the big captain loomed black before him. Riego stole up the front steps. He knew behind which of the long, closed windows the señorita slept, and he approached and tapped fearfully upon it.
It was a frightened voice that called: "Who isthat?"
Riego was not conscious how he answered, but he knew that a wave of relief flowed over him when the blind of the long window opened and he was drawn into the dark room by a pair of familiar hands.
The blind was closed after him and a light was struck.
The señorita's eyes were disclosed big and startled; her face was as white as the long robe she wore.
"Whatisit, Riego?" she gasped.
"They are coming!" he whispered.
"Who?" she exclaimed, catching him by the shoulders, "Who?"
"Alva," the boy answered, "and three hundred with him. They are going to surprise—our soldiers—and kill them while they sleep!"
The señorita sprang to the telephone. She pulled down the lever many, many times, then she staggered back against the wall.
"They have cut the wires!" she cried. "Riego, you and I must take the warning!"
"To the camp?" the boy cried in dismay.
"Yes, there's no one within a mile of here that could take it but us!"
"But the Mexicans have spies over there," the boy moaned. "They will find us in the dark with their knives!"
She had flung on a long cloak, and was hurriedly fastening her shoes.
"Then you stay here and I'll go," she said.
"You?" cried the startled child—then—"Itis dark out there, my lady; I'll go with you."
They extinguished the light and stole out together to the stable, but the horses were gone!
Desperate now, they started out afoot.
The treacherous sand again and the black dark! But they crept along together. Then suddenly the boy's courage gave way and he clung to the cloaked figure, sobbing:
"Señorita! Señorita! I amafraid!"
The señorita was trembling, too, and her voice broke as she whispered:
"You and I don't make very good heroes, do we?"
They had come to a standstill and were clinging together in the dark. Suddenly there was a sound of something approaching—-the velvet tread of an unshod pony in the sand!
The rider passed.
When they breathed again the señorita took him strongly by the shoulders.
"Riego," she whispered—and there was no break in her voice now—"we must separate.One of us must go straight to the ford and warn the patrol, the other to camp."
"But it is near the ford that Pacheco is hiding," the boy replied.
"I'll go to the ford," she said simply.
"No, my lady,Igo—you take the news to camp." And before she could detain him the boy turned at a sharp angle and plunged into the deeper blackness of the chaparral.
*****
A long nightmare intervened between their parting and the time when the half-dead boy clung to the saddle of the patrol and whispered to him:
"Keep to the open, señor; there are men with knives in the chaparral! Help is coming!"
Then, somehow, everything was blotted out for Riego.
When consciousness came again to the boy, the cool air of the dawn was choked with dust clouds till he could not see ten feet before him and his ears were nearly bursting with the thunder-beat of frantic hoofs. Dim horseswere rearing and plunging against the reddening dawn. There were shouts and cries and firing! Firing!
Who was losing? Who waswinning?
Dear God, Alva's men were sweeping back across the Rio Grande!
One little frightened boy had saved the day for the country that had given him refuge from oppression.
But what was that? A call for help?Whose voice was that?
Riego plunged into the thick of the dust cloud toward the cry, and dropped by Pascual's side. How could he have known that his brother would ride that night with the invaders!
But Pascual was striving to speak. Riego leaned over him and caught the whisper:
"Lorente shot me down to get my horse and escape!"
And now the gringos were circling round the wounded one—they would beat out his brains with their guns! But—but—why, they were lifting him up, andtenderly! TheAmericans were lifting up his wounded brother!
*****
Many and bewildering were the things which happened to Riego in the next few hours. First, he and the all-but-dead Pascual were carried by the soldiers to the American camp. Then his brother was taken away from him and borne into a closed tent.
The soldiers gathered around Riego and patted him on the shoulder. They gave him many things—things to eat and coins and pocket-knives and tobacco-tags, all the while challenging him to smile—he whose captured brother was yonder!
Later the big captain sent for him and took him by the hand.
"Riego Yañez," he said, "I am proud to shake hands with an American hero!"
At length a tall soldier came to Riego and led him to the closed tent. But the tall soldier did not enter; he merely pushed the boy inside the tent and dropped the khaki flap.
Riego blinked his eyes. Somebody was lying stretched out on a cot, and somebody was fanning him—the Beautiful One and his brother! Riego crept toward her suddenly outstretched hands.
Then he leaned over Pascual. But Pascual's eyes were closed and on his face was a yellow pallor.
"The surgeon has taken out the ball," whispered the Beautiful One. "He will live, with good nursing, and I am on the job." She paused a moment, then asked, as she looked into his face with concern: "Aren't you happy, you tragic little soldier? Why don't you smile at the good news?"
"How—" began the child—and a strange, sick feeling swept over him—"how long before he will be well enough to be stood against a wall—and——"
"Why, you poor child!"—and the big tears sprang to the señorita's eyes—"your brother will not be stood against a wall and shot for treason—never—never! And he's not going to be shut up in prison, either!"
A hero congratulated"Riego Yañez," he said. "I am proud to shake hands with an American hero!"
"Riego Yañez," he said. "I am proud to shake hands with an American hero!"
"But why, señorita? Why? The big captain knows that he was with Alva's men."
"He is young—just a boy," and the señorita laid a tender hand upon the head of the wounded lad. "He is the son of good parents and brother to—— Oh, you tragic little soldier, can't you guess who it is has saved your brother?"
"You, señorita?"
"Yourself, Riego. Because you have been heroically loyal they are to give your brother another chance. We Americans, Riego"—and her white hand closed upon his own to include him with her—"we Americans are going to nurse Pascual back to a better life and teach him how to be free!"
The sick lad stirred on his cot.
When the Beautiful One leaned over him in quick solicitude, he smiled.
A Uniform Series for Supplementary Reading in Schools. Each, 12mo,net, *$0.50.Hero Tales Told in School. ByJames Baldwin. Illustrated.Herakles, the Hero of Thebes, and Other Heroes of the Myth. ByMary E. BurtandZenaide Ragezin. Illustrated.Odysseus: The Hero of Ithaca. ByMary E. Burt. Illustrated.The Boy General. By Mrs.George A. CusterandMary E. Burt. Illustrated.Don Quixote De La Mancha. ByMiguel de Cervantes. From the translations of Duffield and Shelton. ByMary E. BurtandLucy Leffingwell Cable.The Cable Story Book. Selections for School Reading. ByGeorge W. Cable. Edited byMary E. BurtandLucy L. Cable. Illustrated.The Hoosier School Boy. ByEdward Eggleston. Illustrated.The Eugene Field Book. Verses, Stories, and Letters for School Reading. ByEugene Field. Edited byMary E. BurtandMary L. Cable. With an Introduction byGeorge W. Cable. Illustrated.The Howells Story Book. ByWilliam Dean Howells. Selected and arranged byMary E. Burt. Illustrated byMiss Howells.The Lanier Book. Selections for School Reading. BySidney Lanier. Edited and arranged ByMary E. Burt, in co-operation with Mrs.Lanier. Illustrated.The Page Story Book. Selections for School Reading byThomas Nelson Page. Edited byFrank E. SpaldingandCatherine T. Bryce.Poems of American Patriotism. Chosen byBrander Matthews.Some Merry Adventures of Robin Hood. ByHoward Pyle. Illustrated by the Author.The Roosevelt Book. Selections from the writings of Theodore Roosevelt, with an introduction byRobert Bridges. Illustrated.A Child's Garden of Verses. ByRobert Louis Stevenson. Illustrated.Krag and Johnny Bear. Being the Personal Histories of Krag, Randy, Johnny Bear, and Chink. ByErnest Thompson Seton. Illustrated.Lobo, Rag, and Vixen. Selections from "Wild Animals I Have Known." ByErnest Thompson Seton. With 4 full-page and many other illustrations from drawings by the Author.Twelve Naval Captains. With portraits. ByMolly Elliott Seawell.Fanciful Tales. ByFrank R. Stockton. Edited byJulia E. Langworthy. Illustrated.Around the World in the Sloop Spray. By CaptainJoshua Slocum. Illustrated.The van Dyke Book. Selections for School Reading. ByHenry van Dyke. Edited and arranged by ProfessorEdwin Mims, with Biographical Sketch byMiss van Dyke. Illustrated.Children's Stories of American Literature, 1660-1860. ByHenrietta Christian Wright.Children's Stories of American Literature, 1860-1896. ByHenrietta Christian Wright.Children's Stories in American History. ByHenrietta Christian Wright.Children's Stories in American Progress. ByHenrietta Christian Wright.
A Uniform Series for Supplementary Reading in Schools. Each, 12mo,net, *$0.50.
Hero Tales Told in School. ByJames Baldwin. Illustrated.
Herakles, the Hero of Thebes, and Other Heroes of the Myth. ByMary E. BurtandZenaide Ragezin. Illustrated.
Odysseus: The Hero of Ithaca. ByMary E. Burt. Illustrated.
The Boy General. By Mrs.George A. CusterandMary E. Burt. Illustrated.
Don Quixote De La Mancha. ByMiguel de Cervantes. From the translations of Duffield and Shelton. ByMary E. BurtandLucy Leffingwell Cable.
The Cable Story Book. Selections for School Reading. ByGeorge W. Cable. Edited byMary E. BurtandLucy L. Cable. Illustrated.
The Hoosier School Boy. ByEdward Eggleston. Illustrated.
The Eugene Field Book. Verses, Stories, and Letters for School Reading. ByEugene Field. Edited byMary E. BurtandMary L. Cable. With an Introduction byGeorge W. Cable. Illustrated.
The Howells Story Book. ByWilliam Dean Howells. Selected and arranged byMary E. Burt. Illustrated byMiss Howells.
The Lanier Book. Selections for School Reading. BySidney Lanier. Edited and arranged ByMary E. Burt, in co-operation with Mrs.Lanier. Illustrated.
The Page Story Book. Selections for School Reading byThomas Nelson Page. Edited byFrank E. SpaldingandCatherine T. Bryce.
Poems of American Patriotism. Chosen byBrander Matthews.
Some Merry Adventures of Robin Hood. ByHoward Pyle. Illustrated by the Author.
The Roosevelt Book. Selections from the writings of Theodore Roosevelt, with an introduction byRobert Bridges. Illustrated.
A Child's Garden of Verses. ByRobert Louis Stevenson. Illustrated.
Krag and Johnny Bear. Being the Personal Histories of Krag, Randy, Johnny Bear, and Chink. ByErnest Thompson Seton. Illustrated.
Lobo, Rag, and Vixen. Selections from "Wild Animals I Have Known." ByErnest Thompson Seton. With 4 full-page and many other illustrations from drawings by the Author.
Twelve Naval Captains. With portraits. ByMolly Elliott Seawell.
Fanciful Tales. ByFrank R. Stockton. Edited byJulia E. Langworthy. Illustrated.
Around the World in the Sloop Spray. By CaptainJoshua Slocum. Illustrated.
The van Dyke Book. Selections for School Reading. ByHenry van Dyke. Edited and arranged by ProfessorEdwin Mims, with Biographical Sketch byMiss van Dyke. Illustrated.
Children's Stories of American Literature, 1660-1860. ByHenrietta Christian Wright.
Children's Stories of American Literature, 1860-1896. ByHenrietta Christian Wright.
Children's Stories in American History. ByHenrietta Christian Wright.
Children's Stories in American Progress. ByHenrietta Christian Wright.
Transcriber's NotePunctuation errors have been corrected.