“Yes,” said Pesita, “and say to them that they will start early in the morning.”

As Billy turned and walked in the direction that the soldiers had led Bridge and Miguel, Pesita beckoned to a soldier who leaned upon his gun at a short distance from his “general”—­a barefooted, slovenly attempt at a headquarters orderly.

“Send Captain Rozales to me,” directed Pesita.

The soldier shuffled away to where a little circle of men in wide-brimmed, metal-encrusted hats squatted in the shade of a tree, chatting, laughing, and rolling cigarettes.  He saluted one of these and delivered his message, whereupon the tall, gaunt Captain Rozales arose and came over to Pesita.

“The big one who was brought in today is not a gringo,” said Pesita, by way of opening the conversation.  “He is from Granavenoo.  He can be of great service to us, for he is very friendly with the Germans—­yet he looks like a gringo and could pass for one.  We can utilize him.  Also he is very large and appears to be equally strong.  He should make a good fighter and we have none too many.  I have made him a captain.”

Rozales grinned.  Already among Pesita’s following of a hundred men there were fifteen captains.

“Where is Granavenoo?” asked Rozales.

“You mean to say, my dear captain,” exclaimed Pesita, “that a man of your education does not know where Granavenoo is?  I am surprised.  Why, it is a German colony.”

“Yes, of course.  I recall it well now.  For the moment it had slipped my mind.  My grandfather who was a great traveler was there many times.  I have heard him speak of it often.”

“But I did not summon you that we might discuss European geography,” interrupted Pesita.  “I sent for you to tell you that the stranger would not consent to serve me unless I liberated his friend, the gringo, and that sneaking spy of a Miguel.  I was forced to yield, for we can use the stranger.  So I have promised, my dear captain, that I shall send them upon their road with a safe escort in the morning, and you shall command the guard.  Upon your life respect my promise, Rozales; but if some of Villa’s cutthroats should fall upon you, and in the battle, while you were trying to defend the gringo and Miguel, both should be slain by the bullets of the Villistas—­ah, but it would be deplorable, Rozales, but it would not be your fault.  Who, indeed, could blame you who had fought well and risked your men and yourself in the performance of your sacred duty?  Rozales, should such a thing occur what could I do in token of my great pleasure other than make you a colonel?”

“I shall defend them with my life, my general,” cried Rozales, bowing low.

“Good!” cried Pesita.  “That is all.”

Rozales started back toward the ring of smokers.

“Ah, Captain!” cried Pesita.  “Another thing.  Will you make it known to the other officers that the stranger from Granavenoo is a captain and that it is my wish that he be well treated, but not told so much as might injure him, or his usefulness, about our sacred work of liberating poor, bleeding unhappy Mexico.”