A Charmed Life | Page 5

moved to
Porto Rico, Chesterton moved with him.
In that pretty little island a command of regulars under a general of the
regular army had, in a night attack, driven back the Spaniards from
Adhuntas. The next afternoon as the column was in line of march, and
the men were shaking themselves into their accoutrements, a dusty,
sweating volunteer staff officer rode down the main street of Adhuntas,
and with the authority of a field marshal, held up his hand.
"General Miles's compliments, sir," he panted, "and peace is declared!"
Different men received the news each in a different fashion. Some
whirled their hats in the air and cheered. Those who saw promotion and
the new insignia on their straps vanish, swore deeply. Chesterton fell
upon his saddle-bags and began to distribute his possessions among the
enlisted men. After he had remobilized, his effects consisted of a
change of clothes, his camera, water-bottle, and his medicine case. In
his present state of health and spirits he could not believe he stood in
need of the medicine case, but it was a gift from Miss Armitage, and
carried with it a promise from him that he always would carry it. He
had "packed" it throughout the campaign, and for others it had proved
of value.
"I take it you are leaving us," said an officer enviously.
"I am leaving you so quick," cried Chesterton laughing, "that you won't
even see the dust. There's a transport starts from Mayaguez at six
to-morrow morning, and, if I don't catch it, this pony will die on the
wharf."
"The road to Mayaguez is not healthy for Americans," said the general
in command. "I don't think I ought to let you go. The enemy does not
know peace is on yet, and there are a lot of guerillas--"
Chesterton shook his head in pitying wonder.
"Not let me go!" he exclaimed. "Why, General, you haven't enough
men in your command to stop me, and as for the Spaniards and
guerillas--! I'm homesick," cried the young man. "I'm so damned
homesick that I am liable to die of it before the transport gets me to
Sandy Hook."
"If you are shot up by an outpost," growled the general, "you will be
worse off than homesick. It's forty miles to Mayaguez. Better wait till

daylight. Where's the sense of dying, after the fighting's over?"
"If I don't catch that transport I sure WILL die," laughed Chesterton.
His head was bent and he was tugging at his saddle girths. Apparently
the effort brought a deeper shadow to his tan, "but nothing else can kill
me! I have a charm, General," he exclaimed.
"We hadn't noticed it," said the general.
The staff officers, according to regulations, laughed.
"It's not that kind of a charm," said Chesterton. "Good-by, General."
The road was hardly more than a trail, but the moon made it as light as
day, and cast across it black tracings of the swinging vines and creepers;
while high in the air it turned the polished surface of the palms into
glittering silver. As he plunged into the cool depths of the forest
Chesterton threw up his arms and thanked God that he was moving
toward her. The luck that had accompanied him throughout the
campaign had held until the end. Had he been forced to wait for a
transport, each hour would have meant a month of torment, an arid,
wasted place in his life. As it was, with each eager stride of El Capitan,
his little Porto Rican pony, he was brought closer to her. He was so
happy that as he galloped through the dark shadows of the jungle or out
into the brilliant moonlight he shouted aloud and sang; and again as he
urged El Capitan to greater bursts of speed, he explained in joyous,
breathless phrases why it was that he urged him on.
"For she is wonderful and most beautiful," he cried, "the most glorious
girl in all the world! And, if I kept her waiting, even for a moment, El
Capitan, I would be unworthy--and I might lose her! So you see we ride
for a great prize!"
The Spanish column that, the night before, had been driven from
Adhuntas, now in ignorance of peace, occupied both sides of the valley
through which ran the road to Mayaguez, and in ambush by the road
itself had placed an outpost of two men. One was a sharp- shooter of
the picked corps of the Guardia Civile, and one a sergeant of the
regiment that lay hidden in the heights. If the Americans advanced
toward Mayaguez, these men were to wait until the head of the column
drew abreast of them, when they were to fire. The report of their rifles
would be the signal