"I'm going to find her and bring her out."
"You? Why, Dave, you can't get through. This is a job for the
soldiers."
But Dave hardly seemed to hear him. "You must start things moving
at once," he said, urgently. "Spread the news, get the story into
the papers, notify the authorities. Get every influence at work,
from here to headquarters; get your Senator and the Governor of
the state at work. Ellsworth will help you. And now give me your
last dollar."
Blaze emptied his pockets, shaking his shaggy head the while. "La
Feria is a hundred and fifty miles in," he remonstrated.
"By rail from Pueblo, yes. But it's barely a hundred, straight
from here."
"You 'ain't got a chance, single-handed. You're crazy to try it."
The effect of these words was startling, for Dave laughed harshly.
"'Crazy' is the word," he agreed. "It's a job for a lunatic, and
that's me. Yes, I've got bad blood in me, Blaze--bad blood--and
I'm taking it back where I got it. But listen!" He turned a sick,
colorless face to his friend. "They'll whittle a cross for
Longorio if I do get through." He called to Montrosa, and the mare
came to him, holding her head to one side so as not to tread upon
her dragging reins.
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