"Now let's introduce ourselves," went on their new acquaintance, evidently not the least bit suspicious now. "My name's Bob Harding.

Which of you chaps is Con Divver?"

"Right here," said Jack, motioning to Walt.

"And Jim Hickey and Ted Rafter?"

"I'm Jim and here is Ted," responded Jack, his heart beating like a trip hammer. It was a daring game they were playing.

"That's good. Now we all know each other. I think that Americans enlisted in this sort of service should be on good terms, don't you?"

"I certainly do," rejoined Jack warmly.

"Fine! I'll bet we'll make good messmates. And now here comes Madero himself. If you fellows will come with me, I'll introduce you in form.

Do you 'spiggoty'?"

"Do we what?" asked Jack wonderingly.

"Spiggoty. Talk this greaser lingo?"

"Not very well, I'm afraid. Does the general talk English?"

"Well. He's a good fellow, too. You'll find out."

Thus rattling on, Bob Harding escorted the lads toward the van of the advancing hors.e.m.e.n. There were about a hundred in the troop, which Harding had referred to as a "Flying Column," and, although the hors.e.m.e.n were all apparently well armed, their appearance was ragged and wild in the extreme. They had evidently seen some hard fighting.

Here and there could be seen men with bandaged heads or limbs, while their high conical-crowned hats were in some cases drilled, like beehives, with bullet holes. In color, the insurrecto leader's followers ranged from a delicate cream to a dark, reddish-brown, almost the coppery hue of a red Indian. In all, they formed as ferocious and formidable-looking a troop of hors.e.m.e.n as the Border Boys had ever set eyes on.

Madero himself, a rather sad-faced man of past middle age, rode in advance, surrounded by several officers, the latter having red flannel chevrons attached to their buckskin coats by safety pins. The famous insurrecto leader raised his hat with Mexican courtesy as the newcomers approached. Bob Harding drew himself up in his saddle and gave a military salute which the general stiffly returned. The boys, taking their cue from their new acquaintance, followed his example.

"I am afraid that your first experience with the insurrectos was a rough one, senores," said the general, with one of his sad smiles, using very fair English.

"No rougher than we must expect," rejoined Jack crisply. The lad by now had begun to have an inkling of the situation. Evidently Bob Harding was a soldier of fortune fighting with the insurrectos against the troops of Diaz, while they themselves were supposed to be more of the same brand. Evidently they had been expected by Ramon's subterranean river, and in taking the boat they must have forestalled the real Con Divver, Jim Hickey, and Ted Rafter. Jack caught himself wondering how long it would take the latter to ride over the mountains and discover the imposture.

"We are on our way to our bivouac farther on, gentlemen," said the general, with a wave of his hand, as if to dismiss them. "Captain Harding will introduce you to your brother officers and later on I will a.s.sign you to duty."

The boys saluted once more, as did Bob Harding, and, still following the young soldier of fortune, they rode toward the rear of the column.

The brown-skinned soldiers cast many glances out of their wild eyes at them as they loped back, evidently wondering at the youth of Madero's new recruits from across the border.

The boys found no opportunity to exchange conversation as they rode along. Bob Harding was far too busy introducing them to brother officers to permit of this. From remarks addressed to them, which they answered carefully in a general way, the boys soon learned that the three soldiers of fortune they were impersonating had been redoubtable warriors in several revolutionary battles in South America. Thus it came about that Jack and his chums were speedily far more prominent personalities than they cared about becoming. The officers of Madero's command they found to be mostly small planters and ranch owners, inflamed with bitterness at the freedom with which great grants of land had been made to Americans by Diaz.

Bob Harding was not backward in telling them his history, as they rode along. He had been expelled from West Point for a hazing prank, and since that time had "knocked about the world a bit," as he expressed it. He was frank in confessing that he was with Madero's command for the "fun there was in it."

"I don't see much fun in injuring American interests and practically warring on your own people," burst out Jack, before he knew what he was saying.

Harding whipped around in his saddle like a flash.

"Say, Jim Hickey," he snapped, "those are funny sentiments coming from you. You didn't feel that way during your famous campaign in Venezuela, did you?"

"Well, it wasn't so near home, you see," rather lamely explained Jack, wishing that he had bitten his tongue out before he had made such a break.

But Bob Harding fortunately was not of an a.n.a.lytical disposition, and he was soon rattling on again, relating to the boys, with great glee, the manner in which the insurrectos were getting all the arms they wanted by Black Ramon's underground route.

CHAPTER XIII.

IN THE CAMP OF THE INSURRECTOS.

Camp was made that night not far from the outskirts of what must have been a small town or village. Through the trees surrounding the camp the boys could catch the glint of distant lights as the sun set and darkness rushed up with the suddenness characteristic of the southern lat.i.tudes. Rumor about the camp was that there was a fair or carnival in the village. To Jack's huge delight, he found that a tent was to be provided for them, and that, if all went well, they would be able, after the camp was wrapped in sleep, to have a consultation.

But before this occurred something else happened which bore so directly on the boys' fortunes that it must be related here. Supper in the camp was over, sentries posted, and the routine of what had evidently been a long campaign taken up, when the three lads, who had been chatting with Bob Harding and trying to draw out all he knew without betraying themselves, were summoned by a ragged orderly to present themselves in General Madero's tent.

At first a dreadful fear that their deception had been discovered rushed into Jack's mind, as they arose from the ground outside Bob Harding's tent and made their way to the general's quarters. This fear, which his comrades shared with him, was speedily relieved, however. General Madero greeted them with the same grave courtesy he had shown them earlier in the day, and, after a few words, bade them be seated. Each visitor having been accommodated with a camp stool, the general turned to a written paper which he had before him on the folding camp table, and which he had apparently been poring over intently when they entered.

"I sent for you, gentlemen," he said, "in the first place, because I am sure, from what Senor Ramon told me, our new recruits are anxious to distinguish themselves, and also because I have some duty to outline to you which is peculiarly adapted for Americans to undertake.

"You know, doubtless, that the funds of the insurrectos are not as plentiful as they might be. Most of us are poor men. I myself have disposed of my estate to make the revolution against the tyrant Diaz successful." He paused and frowned at the mention of the hated name, and then continued in the same grave, even voice:

"It becomes necessary, therefore, for us to raise funds as best we may.

Of course, we might live upon the country, but this I am unwilling to do. The people are friendly to us. They give us their moral support.

Let us then not repay good with evil by plundering them. Rather let us pay for what we get as we go along."

Harding nodded, as did the boys. It was best to give the general the impression that they were deeply interested.

"Very well, then. But we must raise funds--and how? How better than by helping ourselves to the product of which our country has been robbed by favorites of Diaz. I refer, I need hardly say, to the American mining men who have enriched themselves at my poor countrymen's expense."

Jack could hardly repress an angry start as he saw whither this line of reasoning must lead. The gross injustice of the idea made him flush hotly, but he was far too wise to expose his hand to the wily old insurrecto leader, who was watching them with an eager look on his withered, yellow face.

"There is near here," continued the general, "a mine I have had my eyes on for a long time. It belongs to a Senor Merrill, a rancher----"

The general broke off abruptly. Jack had started so suddenly that the lamp on the table was jarred.

"Senor Hickey knows Senor Merrill?" he asked, bending his searching black eyes on the lad.

"I--no--that is, yes--I met Senor Merrill some time ago," stammered Jack. "Hearing his name again startled me. I was not aware he was in this part of the country."

Apparently the explanation satisfied the old leader, for he continued with a satisfied nod.

"This Senor Merrill is rich, I hear. But all his wealth has not prevented his miners leaving him to answer the call of the insurrecto cause. His mine, The Esmeralda, is not more than twelve miles from here. In the treasure room is stored much gold. Since we blew up the railroad, he has not been able to ship it. We must have that gold."

He paused and looked at the Americans inquiringly. Of the four, Bob Harding alone looked enthusiastic.

"It should be easy, general," he said; "if the Mexican miners have quit, all we have to do is to march in and help ourselves."

"Yes, but Senor Merrill is not unsurrounded by friends," went on the general, while Jack's heart gave a bound of gladness; "he has a German superintendent and several mine bosses. They have arms and ammunition, and it will be a difficult matter to dislodge them. Also, there are telephone wires by which he can summon aid from the regular troops."

"Well, what do you want us to do, sir?" asked Jack, with what was really, under the circ.u.mstances, a creditable simulation of disinterest.