I
ain't takin' it for myself--it's for the cause--the cause o' poor,
bleedin' Mexico," and Billy grinned a large grin.
"You took it for Pesita?" asked Bridge.
"Of course," replied Billy. "I won't get a jitney of it. I
wouldn't take none of it, Bridge, honest. I'm on the square
now."
"I know you are, Billy," replied the other; "but if you're
caught you might find it difficult to convince the authorities of
your highmindedness and your disinterestedness."
"Authorities!" scoffed Billy. "There ain't no authorities in
Mexico. One bandit is just as good as another, and from Pesita
to Carranza they're all bandits at heart. They ain't a one of
'em that gives two whoops in hell for poor, bleedin' Mexico--
unless they can do the bleedin' themselves. It's dog eat dog
here. If they caught me they'd shoot me whether I'd robbed
their bank or not. What's that?" Billy was suddenly alert,
straining his eyes back in the direction of Cuivaca.
"They're coming, Billy," said Bridge. "Take my horse
--quick! You must get out of here in a hurry. The whole
post is searching for you. I thought that they went toward
the south, though. Some of them must have circled."
"What'll you do if I take your horse?" asked Billy.
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