Bucky O'Connor: A Tale of the Unfenced Border by William MacLeod Raine (learn to read books .txt) 📗

all to overthrow him, had come as so complete a surprise that he had been unprepared to meet it. Everywhere to-night his guards covered the city, ready to crush rebellion as soon as it showed its head. Carlo was in personal charge of the troops, and would remain so until after the election to-morrow, at which he would be declared formally reelected. If he could keep his hands on the reins for twenty-four hours more the worst would be past. He would give a good deal to know what that mad Irishman, O'Halloran, was doing just now. If he could once get hold of him, the opposition would collapse like a house of cards.

At that precise moment in walked the mad Irishman pat to the Mexican's thought of him.

“Buenos noches, excellency. I understand you have been looking for me. I am, senor, yours to command.” The big Irishman brought his heels together and gave a mocking military salute.

The governor's first thought was that he was a victim of treachery, his second that he was a dead man, his third that he would die as a Spanish gentleman ought. He was pale to the eyes, but he lost no whit of his dignity.

“You have, I suppose, taken the palace,” he said quietly.

“As a loan, excellency, merely as a loan. After to-morrow it will be returned you in the event you still need it,” replied O'Halloran blandly.

“You expect to murder me, of course?”

The big Celt looked shocked. “Not at all! The bulletins may perhaps have to report you accidentally killed or a victim of suicide. Personally I hope not.”

“I understand; but before this lamentable accident happens I beg leave to assure myself that the palace really is in your hands, senor. A mere formality, of course.” The governor smiled his thin-lipped smile and touched a bell beside him.

Twice Megales pressed the electric bell, but no orderly appeared in answer to it. He bowed to the inevitable.

“I grant you victor, Senor O'Halloran. Would it render your victory less embarrassing if I were to give you material immediately for that bulletin on suicide?” He asked the question quite without emotion, as courteously as if he were proposing a stroll through the gardens.

O'Halloran had never liked the man. The Irish in him had always boiled at his tyranny. But he had never disliked him so little as at this moment. The fellow had pluck, and that was one certain passport to the revolutionist's favor.

“On the contrary, it would distress me exceedingly. Let us reserve that bulletin as a regrettable possibility in the event that less drastic measures fail.”

“Which means, I infer, that you have need of me before I pass by the Socratic method,” he suggested, still with that pale smile set in granite “I shall depend on you to let me know at what precise hour you would like to order an epitaph written for me. Say the word at your convenience, and within five minutes your bulletin concerning the late governor will have the merit of truth.”

“Begad, excellency, I like your spirit. If it's my say-so, you will live to be a hundred. Come the cards are against you. Some other day they may fall more pat for you. But the jig's up now.”

“I am very much of your opinion, sir,” agreed Megales.

“Then why not make terms?”

“Such as—”

“Your life and your friends' lives against a graceful capitulation.”

“Our lives as prisoners or as free men?”

“The utmost freedom compatible with the circumstances. Your friends may either leave or remain and accept the new order of things. I'm afraid it will be necessary for you and General Carlo to leave the state for your own safety. You have both many enemies.”

“With our personal possessions?”

“Of course. Such property as you cannot well take may be left in the hands of an agent and disposed of later.”

Megales eyed him narrowly. “Is it your opinion, on honor, that the general and I would reach the boundaries of the State without being assassinated?”

“I pledge you my honor and that of Juan Valdez that you will be safely escorted out of the country if you will consent to a disguise. It is only fair to him to say that he stands strong for your life.”

“Then, sir, I accept your terms if you can make it plain to me that you are strong enough to take the city against General Carlo.”

From his pocket O'Halloran drew a typewritten list and handed it to the governor, who glanced it over with interest.

“These army officers are all with you?”

“As soon as the word is given.”

“You will pardon me if I ask for proof?”

“Certainly. Choose the name of any one of them you like and send for him. You are at liberty to ask him whether he is pledged to us.”

The governor drew a pencil-mark through a name. O'Halloran clapped his hands and Rodrigo came into the room.

“Rodrigo, the governor desires you to carry a message to Colonel Onate. He is writing it now. You will give Colonel Onate my compliments and ask him to make as much haste as is convenient.”

Megales signed and sealed the note he was writing and handed it to O'Halloran, who in turn passed it to Rodrigo.

“Colonel Onate should be here in fifteen minutes at the farthest. May I in the meantime offer you a glass of wine, Dictator O'Halloran?” At the Irishman's smile, the Mexican governor hastened to add, misunderstanding him purposely: “Perhaps I assume too much in taking the part of host here. May I ask whether you will be governor in person or by deputy, senor?”

“You do me too much honor, excellency. Neither in person nor by deputy, I fear. And, as for the glass of wine—with all my heart. Good liquor is always in order, whether for a funeral or a marriage.”

“Or an abdication, you might add. I drink to a successful reign, Senor Dictator: Le roi est mort; vive le roi!”

The Irishman filled a second glass. “And I drink to Governor Megales, a brave man. May the cards fall better for him next time he plays.”

The governor bowed ironically. “A brave man certainly, and you might add: 'Who loses his stake without striking one honest blow for it.'”

“We play with stacked cards, excellency. Who can forestall the treachery of trusted associates?”

“Sir, your apology for me is very generous, no less so than the terms you offer,” returned Megales sardonically.

O'Halloran laughed. “Well, if you don't like my explanations I shall have to let you make your own. And, by the way, may