Instantly Culvera knew the story to be true. It cannot be said that he was grateful to Yeager, but the edge of his resentment against him was dulled.

"Sounds like a plausible story, doesn't it?" he suggested ironically.

"Why should Pasquale want the death of his friend, his lieutenant, the man who was closest to him among all his followers?"

"Send for Juan Garcia. He was on sentry duty that night. Ask him as to the facts," the cowpuncher proposed.

Girard turned to his host and spoke to him in a low voice. "General, this man has a good reputation at home. He has a host of friends in Arizona. I believe he is speaking the truth. Perhaps General Pasquale may have been too hasty. Let us send for all the witnesses and make a thorough investigation of the charges against him. I shall be called to Washington after I have wired my report. The President, no doubt, will question me. Make it possible for me to tell him that under the rule of General Culvera a regime begins that is founded on justice for all."

Culvera was far from a fool. He had lived in the United States and understood something of the temper of its people. The fall of Huerta was potent proof that no ruler could survive in Mexico if the Government at Washington was set in opposition to him. After all, the life of Yeager was only a small matter. Why not use him as a p.a.w.n in the game to win the approval of the big Republic to the north?

With his most engaging smile Ramon offered his hand to Captain Girard.

"You are right. Pasquale was a child, a creature of moods, of foolish suspicions and tempestuous pa.s.sions. Perhaps this man tells the truth.

It may be he has been condemned unjustly. You and I, my friend, shall sit in judgment on him. If he be guilty, we shall condemn; if innocent, acquit. Meanwhile I will remand him to prison and order the execution postponed. Does that satisfy you, captain?"

The American officer shook hands warmly. "General, it is a pleasure to meet a man like you. Mexico is fortunate in having such a son."

Culvera beamed. "Gracias. And now, captain, first a bath, then dinner.

Afterwards you shall talk with the moving-picture men." He turned affably to Yeager. "I shall give orders that you be given a good dinner to-night. To-morrow we shall pa.s.s judgment on you."

Steve nodded to the West Pointer. "Much obliged, captain."

CHAPTER XXVIII

AS LONG AS LIFE

Breakfast was served to Yeager next morning by a guard who either knew nothing or would tell nothing of what was going on in the camp. After he had eaten, n.o.body came near the prisoner for hours. Through the barred window he could see a sentry pacing up and down or squatting in the shade of the deserted building opposite. No other sign of human life reached him.

His nerves were keyed to a high tension. Culvera was an opportunist.

Perhaps something had occurred to make him change his mind. Perhaps he had decided, after all, not to play for the approval of the United States. In revolutionary Mexico much can happen in a few hours.

Steve was a man of action. It did not suit his temperament to sit cooped up in a prison while things were being done that affected the happiness of Ruth and his own life. He tried to persuade himself that all was going well, but as the fever of his anxiety mounted, he found himself limping up and down the short beat allowed him from wall to wall.

It was noon before he was taken from his cell. Steve counted it a good augury that a saddle horse was waiting for him to ride. Last night he had limped across the plaza on his wounded leg.

He and his little procession of guards cut straight across to headquarters. Culvera sat on the porch smoking a cigarette. He was dressed immaculately in a suit of white linen with a blue sash. His gold-trimmed sombrero was a work of art.

At sight of Yeager the Mexican general smiled blandly.

"Are you ready to take a long journey, Senor Yeager?" he asked.

The heart of the cowpuncher lost a beat, but he did not bat an eye.

"What journey? The same one that Holcomb took?" he demanded bluntly.

Culvera showed a face of pained surprise. "Am I a barbarian? Do you think me another Pasquale? No, no, senor. You and I have had our disagreements. But they are past. To tell the truth, I always did like the way you see a thing through to a fighting finish. Now that I know you are not the ruffian I had been led to think you, it is a pleasure to me to tell you that you have been tried and acquitted. I offer regrets for the inconvenience to which you have been put. You will pardon, is it not so, and do me the honor to dine with me before you leave?"

The heels of the Mexican came together, he bowed, and offered a hand to the range-rider.

"Just one moment, general. All that listens fine to me, but--what are the conditions?"

Ramon made a gesture of regret at being so sadly misunderstood.

"Conditions! There are none."

"None at all?"

"None. Is it that you think me a peddler instead of a gentleman?" The face of the young Mexican expressed sorrow rather than anger.

Still Steve doubted. "Let's understand each other, general. Are you telling me that I can walk out of that door, climb into a saddle, and keep going till I get back into old Arizona?"

"I tell you that--and more. You will be furnished an escort to see you safely across the line. You may choose your own guard if you doubt."

"And my friends?"

"They go, too, of course."

"All of them?"

The Mexican smiled. "You're the most suspicious man I ever knew. All of them, Senor Yeager."

"Including Miss Seymour?" The range-rider spoke quietly, but his eyes were like swords.

"Naturally she will not wish to stay here when her friends leave."

Steve leaned against the porch post with a deep breath of relaxation.

"If I'm sleeping, don't let any one wake me, general," he implored, smiling for the first time.

"I confess your amazement surprises me," said Culvera suavely. "Did you think all Mexicans were like Pasquale? He was a great man, but he was a savage. Also, he was a child at statecraft. I used to warn him to cooperate with the United States if he wished to succeed. But he was ignorant and eaten up with egotism."

"You're right he was, general."

"A new policy is now in operation. In freeing you I ask only that you set me and my army right with your people. Let them understand that we stand for a free Mexico and for justice."

The hands of the two men gripped.

"I'll sure do my share, general."

"We're to have a little luncheon before you go. Captain Girard and your friends are to be my guests. You will join us; not so?"

"Gracias, general. Count me in."

The black eyes of the Mexican twinkled. "Your wound--does it greatly trouble you, senor?"

"Some. When I walk."

"Too bad. I was going to ask you to step upstairs and tell Senorita Seymour that General Culvera will be delighted to have her join us at luncheon. But, of course, since your leg troubles you--"