The Mission of Janice Day Part 45

And then there poured out of the girl's heart all the story of her acquaintanceship with Nelson from the first time she had met him with his motorcycle on the old lower Middletown road.

Did Mr. Broxton Day listen patiently? Imagine it! He was hearing from the lips of this lovely girl-woman, whom he had seen last as a child, all the tale of her romance; the sweetest, most endearing tale a daughter can possibly narrate to a sympathetic and understanding father.

He saw, too, with her eyes those better qualities of the young schoolmaster that did not, perhaps, appear on the surface--the deeper moods and pa.s.sions of his being that responded to the spur of the girl's own character. Broxton Day realized that Janice's influence must mean much to Nelson Haley; yet that the young man had in him that which made it quite worth while for Janice to hold him in the strong regard she did.

They talked of other matters that night, too--these two long separated comrades. Uncle Jason's difficulties came in for their share of attention. Mr. Day now for the first time learned of Jason Day's trouble, for Janice's letter telling about it had failed to reach the Alderdice Mine.

In his present crippled state Broxton Day was quite willing to go back to Polktown with his daughter for the winter. And for his brother's sake he would have gone in any case.

During his working of the mine since coming to Mexico, Broxton Day had acc.u.mulated considerable money which he had immediately re-invested in securities in the North.

"No more carrying of all the eggs in one basket, my dear," he said to Janice. "I have enough elsewhere to help Jase out. So don't worry about _that_ any more."

They might have talked all night; only Janice knew her father, in his present weakened state, should have rest. She insisted that he roll up in his blanket, as Marty had done hours before. When his regular breathing a.s.sured her Mr. Day was asleep, the girl stole to his side and tucked the blanket about his shoulders with maternal care.

"Dear Daddy!" she whispered, stooping to press her soft lips to his wind-beaten cheek.

As she did so a sound outside startled her. Then came a cry and several rifle shots, followed by the clatter of arms and the quick, staccato orders of the officers calling the men to "fall in."

CHAPTER XXVIII

TOM HOTCHKISS REAPPEARS

Janice went quickly to the door, opened it, and stepped out. Already the night was old. The footsteps of Dawn were on the eastern hills. On the mesa, however, the encroaching forest made the shadows black. She could barely see the "headquarters" train of General Palo.

A man stumbled by and Janice caught at his arm. It was one of her father's men who had remained to guard the mine.

"What is it? What has happened?" she asked, without betraying all the fear she felt.

She knew that more than half of the government troops had followed the retreating rebels into the hills and had not returned to the military base. The present confusion of the soldiers that remained portended something desperate she knew.

"A night attack?" she asked.

"It may be, senorita," whispered the man. "A person has just been brought in--captured by our pickets."

"Oh!"

"An _Americano_, senorita. He say Dario Gomez, that bandit unhung, senorita, is about to attack. He has gathered a gre't force and will attack General De Soto Palo. _Si! si!_"

"Dario Gomez?" repeated Janice. "Why, I----Who is this American who has been captured?"

"A deserter. A prisoner. I know not. _Quien sabe?_"

"But what does he look like?" insisted Janice.

"Oh, senorita! He is a fat man and wears a red vest across his stomach--so," and the man gestured.

"Tom Hotchkiss!" murmured Janice.

"I come back to warn Senor B-Day if there be need," promised the guard and was gone.

Janice heard a horse charging past her from the direction of the general's car. In the dim light she thought she recognized the young aide-de-camp who had been so much in evidence the day before. He rode off into the north, away from the mine, and Janice believed he had gone to recall that part of the government troops now absent.

Did General Palo consider the promised attack of the banditti serious?

When Janice had been in Dario Gomez's company he had had but forty followers!

She re-entered the shed and closed the door. Her father and Marty were sleeping quietly. Should she arouse them?

The girl was already becoming used to war's alarms. She determined to watch alone. By no possibility could she have closed her eyes now in slumber.

While her father and Marty slept peacefully, Janice Day sat by a dim and rather smoky lantern and watched. Confused sounds of marching and countermarching soldiery reached her ears; but from a distance.

Suddenly the uproar increased--then more rifle shots in the distance.

Her father roused up, half asleep yet.

"What's that?" he demanded.

A sharp rap came upon the door. Janice arose hastily.

"Lie down, father," she said rea.s.suringly. "I will go."

"The Senor General De Soto Palo order you all to the train. We make stand there, senorita," said the man who had knocked. "The bandits are at hand."

"What's that?" demanded Mr. Day again, wide awake.

Marty rolled off his couch and appeared in the light of the smoky lantern, the snub-nosed revolver in his hand. "Hey! I'm in this!" he croaked, but half awake. "What's doing?"

Swiftly Janice told them what little she had learned while she crammed things into her bag. The man at the door urged haste.

"That Gomez--he is near," sputtered the messenger.

"Why, we know that feller," Marty drawled. "I don't think he'd do anything to us, would he, Janice?"

"Never trust appearances with these Mexican banditti," said Mr. Day gravely. "I've shared the contents of his tobacco pouch with one and then had him try to cut my throat the next day. They are light-hearted, light-fingered and--lightest of all in their morals. I wonder that you two got away from Gomez as you did."

"And Tom Hotchkiss got away from him, too, did he?" growled Marty.

"Well, that's too bad."

"Come, senor!" urged the messenger in the doorway.

They hurried to the headquarters car. It was growing lighter in the east. The rifle fire on the southern edge of the mesa was becoming sharper. General De Soto Palo had not led his troops in person against the attack of the banditti. Indeed, it was evident that he had been aroused from his peaceful slumbers at the beginning of the excitement; even now he had not removed his nightcap. He was not half so fierce-appearing in this headgear as he had been in his plumed hat.

But Tom Hotchkiss, cowering in a corner, seemed to think that the general was quite fierce enough.

"You want to remember I'm an American," he was saying whiningly.