"We'll not have you running to those other gringos and telling them tales."
Away scuttled old Manuel and young Manuel, dragging Jerry and shoving him before them while they followed narrow trails amidst the dunes and the thick, thorny brush. Presently they all heard another hearty shout from a thousand and more throats; but it was not for them.
Pausing and looking back they saw the whole broad beach blue with the American uniforms; flags of blue and gold were fluttering—a detachment of the soldiers had marched to the very top of one high dune and had planted the Stars and Stripes. Already some of the boats were racing out to the ships, for more soldiers. The bands upon the shore were playing "The Star-Spangled Banner" again.
"Hurrah!"
"Shut up, gringito (little gringo)!"
"You will sing another tune if you don't take care. There!" And Jerry received a third and fourth cuff. "Your soldiers are cowards. They land out of reach of the guns. And now maybe we have lost our burro."
"Why don't you go back for it, then?" Jerry demanded. "Why don't your own soldiers march out and stop the soldiers of my country?"
"Because we Mexicans are too wise. The Americans never can get near the city. Why should we waste any lives on them? Now you come along, gringito."
And Jerry had to go, wild with rage and hot with hopes.
The balls from the city and castle were falling
