Part 24 (2/2)

Orinez struck off ahead to scout for possible danger.

There was none. We hadn't gone five squares before we ran into panic-stricken rebels, and the firing-line was approaching on the jump.

Not wanting Mary to see the wounded men, and not caring to explain just then why I couldn't have waited an hour or two for my message, I took the back way.

We landed at the little ruined stone house before Saxton and Perez; they had much farther to travel.

”We must wait here,” I told Mary.

”Must we?” she asked pitifully. ”Can't we go on?”

”Now, my dear girl, see here,” says I, in a fatherly manner, ”after I've tried to do the best--”

”Yes, dear, yes--I'm ungrateful, I know.” She cried a little. ”But I've been such a fool! You're _sure_ he isn't dangerously hurt?”

”Why, it may be,” says I, with a wave of my hand, ”that he's up and around! I don't know much about these things, you know. I'm scart easy.”

Then she petted me and said I had a wise reason, she was sure, and if it was dangerous to go on, she wouldn't, and she'd be patient, and she was all worn out and she looked a fright, and _what_ a fool she had been!

And she cried some more.

I heard a step. I'd strained my ears for it for the last twenty minutes.

”Now,” I says to her, ”I'll skip out to see what's doing.”

I slid behind a tree in time to prevent Sax from seeing me. Perez was on the hill waving his hands for joy. I felt pretty dum joyous myself, hiding in the brush with the lovely feeling of putting through a thoroughly successful put-up job added to the other.

Dead silence after Saxton stepped within the little house. Then come one cry--”Arthur!”

The whole business, from the cradle to the grave, was done up in one small word.

Perez come down the hill; I left my brush-pile. Arthur and Mary were sitting on the stone step, hand in hand. I'll bet they never said a word after that first cry, and they held hands like they was afraid to let go, even for a minute. I thought we'd have lots of explaining to do, but shucks! They didn't want any explanations. There they were, sitting on the door-step, hand in hand. Good enough old explanation for anybody.

They didn't even see us.

I raised my voice, calling to Perez, ”Your Excellency, I have the honor to report Panama has fallen!”

And there they sat, hand in hand. They didn't even hear us, neither.

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