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 night. He may attempt something at night, but we shall be awake—the cannon will not sleep."

"We haven't got much ammunition for a siege, Felipe."

"There is powder by the keg in Don Abrahan's storehouse—have you forgotten your invoice, Gabriel—polboro, you wrote it, the way the peones sounded it, instead of polvora."

"I remember, Felipe. I had forgotten the powder."

"And there are pebbles for grape-shot, and round stones made by the sea when it washed against these hills, for cannon balls. Cortez used them, as we shall use them if we need them, when he battered down the walls of Montezuma's capital."

"Felipe, you're the general of this army," Henderson declared, turning to him in admiration of his resourcefulness, and his enthusiasm over the round stones.

"Not so," Felipe denied vigorously. "When did I take a cannon with my own hands? When did I charge five soldiers in the plaza and carry a lady away to life and love?"

"I'd have made a mighty poor figure that day, Felipe, if it hadn't been for you," Henderson said, laying his hand affectionately on the little man's arm.

"But where is my scoundrel that I left-to stand at the cannon?" Felipe wondered, looking about for the artilleryman. "It is strange conduct for a