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diff --git a/15542-h/15542-h.htm b/15542-h/15542-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5c583ea --- /dev/null +++ b/15542-h/15542-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8990 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?> +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of A Daughter Of The Dons, by William Macleod Raine. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} /* page numbers */ + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .chap_space {width: 20px;} + .center {text-align: center;} + .right {text-align: right;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span {display: block; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's A Daughter of the Dons, by William MacLeod Raine + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Daughter of the Dons + A Story of New Mexico Today + +Author: William MacLeod Raine + +Release Date: April 4, 2005 [EBook #15542] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DAUGHTER OF THE DONS *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Bruce Thomas and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at www.pgdp.net. + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + +<div class="figcenter"><a href="./images/030a.jpg"><img src="images/030a_th.jpg" alt="Little hands caught hold of him." width="372" height="600" /></a></div> + +<div class="center">Little hands caught hold of him and fought with the +current. Frontispiece. Page 30.</div> + +<h1>A DAUGHTER OF THE DONS</h1> + +<h2><i>A Story of New Mexico Today</i></h2> + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>WILLIAM MACLEOD RAINE</h2> + +<div class="center"> +AUTHOR OF<br /></div> + +<div class="center">WYOMING, BUCKY O'CONNOR, MAVERICKS, A TEXAS RANGER, BRAND BLOTTERS, +RIDGWAY OF MONTANA, ETC.<br /><br /></div> + +<div class="center">ILLUSTRATED BY</div> + +<h2>D.C. HUTCHISON<br /></h2> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/002a.png" alt="colophon" width="153" height="132" /><br /><br /></div> + +<div class="center">NEW YORK</div> + +<h2>GROSSET & DUNLAP</h2> + +<div class="center">PUBLISHERS<br /><br /></div> + +<div class="center">COPYRIGHT, 1914, BY<br /></div> + + +<div class="center">G.W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY<br /></div> + +<p><i>A Daughter of the Dons.</i></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS" />CONTENTS</h2> + +<div class="center"><table cellpadding="4" summary=""> +<tr><th align="right">CHAPTER</th><th></th> <th></th> <th align="right">PAGE</th></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">I.</td><td class="chap_space"></td> <td align="left"> <a href="#CHAPTER_I"> DON MANUEL INTRODUCES HIMSELF</a></td> <td align="right">5</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">II.</td><td></td> <td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_II"> THE TWO GRANTS</a></td> <td align="right">15</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">III.</td><td></td> <td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_III"> FISHERMAN'S LUCK</a></td> <td align="right"> 27</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">IV.</td><td></td> <td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV"> AT THE YUSTE HACIENDA</a></td> <td align="right">42</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">V.</td><td></td> <td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_V"> "AN OPTIMISTIC GUY"</a></td> <td align="right">61</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">VI.</td><td></td> <td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI"> JUANITA</a></td> <td align="right">76</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">VII.</td><td></td> <td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII"> TWO MESSAGES</a></td> <td align="right">88</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">VIII.</td><td></td> <td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII"> TAMING AN OUTLAW</a></td> <td align="right">101</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">IX.</td><td></td> <td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX"> OF DON MANUEL AND MOONLIGHT</a></td> <td align="right">111</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">X.</td><td></td> <td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_X"> MR. AINSA DELIVERS A MESSAGE</a></td> <td align="right">123</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XI.</td><td></td> <td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI"> THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY AND THE TWENTIETH</a></td> <td align="right">137</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XII.</td><td></td> <td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII"> "I BELIEVE YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH HER TOO"</a></td> <td align="right">149</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XIII.</td><td></td> <td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII"> AMBUSHED</a></td> <td align="right">159</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XIV.</td><td></td> <td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV"> MANUEL TO THE RESCUE</a></td> <td align="right">173</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XV.</td><td></td> <td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV"> ONE THOUSAND DOLLARS REWARD</a></td> <td align="right">193</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XVI.</td><td></td> <td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI"> VALENCIA MAKES A PROMISE</a></td> <td align="right">201</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XVII.</td><td></td> <td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII"> AN OBSTINATE MAN</a></td> <td align="right">213</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XVIII.</td><td></td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">MANUEL INTERFERES</a></td> <td align="right">230</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XIX.</td><td></td> <td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX"> VALENCIA ACCEPTS A RING</a></td> <td align="right">240</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XX.</td><td></td> <td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX"> DICK LIGHTS A CIGARETTE</a></td> <td align="right">246</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XXI.</td><td></td> <td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI"> WHEN THE WIRES WERE CUT</a></td> <td align="right">259</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XXII.</td><td></td> <td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII"> THE ATTACK</a></td> <td align="right">269</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XXIII.</td><td></td><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">THE TIN BOX</a></td> <td align="right">287</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XXIV.</td><td></td> <td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV"> DICK GORDON APOLOGIZES</a></td> <td align="right">298</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">XXV.</td><td></td> <td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXV"> THE PRINCE CONSORT</a></td> <td align="right">307</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h1><a name="A_DAUGHTER_OF_THE_DONS" id="A_DAUGHTER_OF_THE_DONS" />A DAUGHTER OF THE DONS</h1> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I" />CHAPTER I</h2> + +<div class="center">DON MANUEL INTRODUCES HIMSELF<br /><br /></div> + + +<p>For hours Manuel Pesquiera had been rolling up the roof of the continent +in an observation-car of the "Short Line."</p> + +<p>His train had wound in and out through a maze of bewildering scenery, +and was at last dipping down into the basin of the famous gold camp.</p> + +<p>The alert black eyes of the young New Mexican wandered discontentedly +over the raw ugliness of the camp. Towns straggled here and there +untidily at haphazard, mushroom growths of a day born of a lucky +"strike." Into the valleys and up and down the hillsides ran a network +of rails for trolley and steam cars. Everywhere were the open tunnel +mouths or the frame shaft-houses perched above the gray Titan dump +beards.</p> + +<p>The magic that had wonderfully brought all these manifold activities +into being had its talisman in the word "Gold"; but, since Pesquiera had +come neither as a prospector nor investor, he heard with only +half-concealed impatience the easy gossip of his fellow travelers about +the famous ore producers of the district.</p> + +<p>It was not until his inattentive ears caught the name of Dick Gordon +that he found interest in the conversation.</p> + +<p>"Pardon, sir! Are you acquaint' with Mr. Richard Gordon?" he asked, a +touch of the gentle Spanish accent in his voice.</p> + +<p>The man to whom he had spoken, a grizzled, weather-beaten little fellow +in a corduroy suit and white, broad-brimmed felt hat, turned his steady +blue eyes on his questioner a moment before he answered:</p> + +<p>"I ought to know him, seeing as I'm his partner."</p> + +<p>"Then you can tell me where I may find him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, I can do that. See that streak of red there on the hill—the +one above the big dump. That's the shafthouse of the Last Dollar. Drop +down it about nine hundred feet and strike an airline west by north for +about a quarter of a mile, and you'd be right close to him. He's down +there, tackling a mighty uncertain proposition. The shaft and the +workings of the Last Dollar are full of water. He's running a crosscut +from an upraise in the Radley drift, so as to tap the west tunnel of the +Last Dollar."</p> + +<p>"It is dangerous, you inform me?"</p> + +<p>"Dangerous ain't the word. It's suicide, the way I look at it. See here, +my friend. His drill goes through and lets loose about 'steen million +gallons of water. How is he going to get in out of the rain about that +time?"</p> + +<p>The New Mexican showed a double row of pearly teeth in a bland smile.</p> + +<p>"Pardon, sir. If you would explain a leetle more fully I would then +comprehend."</p> + +<p>"Sure. Here's the way it is. Dick and his three men are plugging away at +the breast of the drift with air-drills. Every day he gits closeter to +that lake dammed up there. Right now there can't be more'n a few feet of +granite 'twixt him and it. He don't know how many any more'n a rabbit, +because he's going by old maps that ain't any too reliable. The question +is whether the wall will hold till he dynamites it through, or whether +the weight of water will crumple up that granite and come pouring out in +a flood."</p> + +<p>"Your friend, then, is in peril, is it not so?"</p> + +<p>"You've said it. He's shooting dice with death. That's the way I size it +up. If the wall holds till it's blown up, Dick has got to get back along +the crosscut, lower himself down the upraise, and travel nearly a mile +through tunnelings before he reaches a shaft to git out. That don't +leave them any too much time at the best. But if the water breaks +through on them, it's Heaven help Dick, and good-by to this world."</p> + +<p>"Then Mr. Gordon is what you call brave?"</p> + +<p>"He's the gamest man that ever walked into this camp. There ain't an +inch of him that ain't clear grit through and through. Get into a tight +place, and he's your one best bet to tie to."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Gordon is fortunate in his friend," bowed the New Mexican politely.</p> + +<p>The little miner looked at him with shining eyes.</p> + +<p>"Nothing like that. Me, I figure the luck's all on my side. Onct you +meet Dick you'll see why we boost for him. Hello, here's where we get +off at. If you're looking for Dick, stranger, you better follow me. I'm +going right up to the mine. Dick had ought to be coming up from below +any minute now."</p> + +<p>Pesquiera checked his suitcase at the depot newsstand and walked up a +steep hill trail with his guide. The miner asked no questions of the New +Mexican as to his business with Gordon, nor did the latter volunteer any +information. They discussed instead the output of the camp for the +preceding year, comparing it with that of the other famous gold +districts of the world.</p> + +<p>Just as they entered the shafthouse the cage shot to the surface. From +it stepped two men.</p> + +<p>Several miners crowded toward them with eager greetings, but they moved +aside at sight of Pesquiera's companion, who made straight for those +from below.</p> + +<p>"What's new, Tregarth?" he asked of one of them, a huge Cornishman.</p> + +<p>"The drill have brook into the Last Dollar tunnel. The watter of un do +be leaking through, Measter Davis. The boss sent us oop while Tom and +him stayed to put the charges in the drill holes to blow oot the wall. +He wouldna coom and let me stay."</p> + +<p>Davis thought a moment.</p> + +<p>"I'll go down the shaft and wait at the foot of it. There'll be +something doing soon. Keep your eye peeled for signals, Smith, and when +you git the bell to raise, shoot her up sudden. If the water's coming, +we'll be in a hurry, and don't you forget it. Want to come down with me, +Tregarth?"</p> + +<p>"I do that, sir." The man stepped into the cage and grinned. "We'll +bring the byes back all right. Bet un we do, lads."</p> + +<p>The cage shot down, and the New Mexican sat on a bench to wait its +return. Beside him was a young doctor, who had come prepared for a +possible disaster. Such conversation as the men carried on was in low +tones, for all felt the strain of the long minutes. The engineer's eye +was glued to his machinery, his hand constantly on the lever.</p> + +<p>It must have been an hour before the bell rang sharply in the silence +and the lever swept back instantly. A dozen men started to their feet +and waited tensely. Next moment there was a wild, exultant cheer.</p> + +<p>For Tregarth had stepped from the cage with a limp figure in his arms, +and after him Davis, his arm around the shoulder of a drenched, +staggering youth, who had a bleeding cut across his cheek. Through all +the grime that covered the wounded miner the pallor of exhaustion showed +itself.</p> + +<p>But beaten and buffeted as the man had plainly been in his fight for +life, the clean, supple strength and the invincible courage of him still +shone in his eye and trod in his bearing. It was even now the salient +thing about him, though he had but come, alive and no more, from a +wrestle with death itself.</p> + +<p>He sank to a bench, and looked around on his friends with shining eyes.</p> + +<p>"'Twas nip and tuck, boys. The water caught us in the tunnel, and I +thought we were gone. It swept us right to the cage," he panted.</p> + +<p>"She didn't sweep Tom there, boss; ye went back after un," corrected the +Cornishman.</p> + +<p>"Anyhow, we made it in the nick o' time. Tom all right, Doctor?"</p> + +<p>The doctor looked up from his examination.</p> + +<p>"No bones broken. He seems sound. If there are no internal injuries it +will be a matter of only a day or two in bed."</p> + +<p>"Good. That's the way to talk. You got to make him good as new, Doctor. +You ought to have seen the way he stayed by that drill when the water +was pouring through the cracks in the granite. Have him taken to the +hospital, and send the bill to me."</p> + +<p>Tregarth boomed out in a heavy bass:</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with the boss? Both of un? They be all right. Bean't +they, lads?"</p> + +<p>It was just after the answering chorus that Pesquiera came forward and +bowed magnificently to the young mine operator. The New Mexican's eyes +were blazing with admiration, for he was of Castilian blood and +cherished courage as the chief of virtues.</p> + +<p>"I have the honor to salute a hero, <i>señor</i>" he cried enthusiastically. +"Your deed is of a most fine bravery. I, Manuel Pesquiera, say it. Have +I the right in thinking him of the name of Mr. Richard Gordon?"</p> + +<p>Something that was almost disgust filmed the gray eyes of the young +miner. He had the Anglo-Saxon horror of heroics. What he had done was +all in the day's work, and he was the last man in the world to enjoy +having a fuss made over it.</p> + +<p>"My name is Gordon," he said quietly.</p> + +<p>The Spaniard bowed again.</p> + +<p>"I have the honor to be your servant to command, Don Manuel Pesquiera. I +believe myself to be, sir, a messenger of fortune to you—a Mercury from +the favoring gods, with news of good import. I, therefore, ask the honor +of an audience at your convenience."</p> + +<p>Dick flung the wet hat from his curly head and took a look at the card +which the Spaniard had presented him. From it his humorous gaze went +back to the posturing owner of the pasteboard. Suppressing a grin, he +answered with perfect gravity.</p> + +<p>"If you will happen round to the palace about noon to-morrow, <i>Señor</i> +Pesquiera, you will be admitted to the presence by the court flunkies. +When you're inquiring for the whereabouts of the palace, better call it +room 14, Gold Nugget Rooming-House."</p> + +<p>He excused himself and stepped lightly across to his companion in the +adventure, who had by this time recovered consciousness.</p> + +<p>"How goes it, Tom? Feel as if you'd been run through a sausage-grinder?" +he asked cheerily.</p> + +<p>The man smiled faintly. "I'm all right, boss. The boys tell me you went +back and saved me."</p> + +<p>"Sho! I just grabbed you and slung you in the cage. No trick at all, +Tom. Now, don't you worry, boy. Just lie there in the hospital and rest +easy. We're settling the bill, and there's a hundred plunks waiting you +when you get well."</p> + +<p>Tom's hand pressed his feebly.</p> + +<p>"I always knew you were white, boss."</p> + +<p>The doctor laughed as he came forward with a basin of water and +bandages.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid he'll be whiter than he need be if I don't stop that +bleeding. I think we're ready for it now, Mr. Gordon."</p> + +<p>"All right. It's only a scratch," answered Gordon indifferently.</p> + +<p>Pesquiera, feeling that he was out of the picture, departed in search of +a hotel for the night. He was conscious of a strong admiration for this +fair brown-faced Anglo-Saxon who faced death so lightly for one of his +men. Whatever else he might prove to be, Richard Gordon was a man.</p> + +<p>The New Mexican had an uneasy prescience that his mission was foredoomed +to failure and that it might start currents destined to affect potently +the lives of many in the Rio Chama Valley.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II" />CHAPTER II</h2> + +<div class="center">THE TWO GRANTS<br /><br /></div> + + +<p>The clock in the depot tower registered just twelve, and the noon +whistles were blowing when Pesquiera knocked at apartment 14, of the +Gold Nugget Rooming-House.</p> + +<p>In answer to an invitation to "Come in," he entered an apartment which +seemed to be a combination office and living-room. A door opened into +what the New Mexican assumed to be a sleeping chamber, adjoining which +was evidently a bath, judging from the sound of splashing water.</p> + +<p>"With you in a minute," a voice from within assured the guest.</p> + +<p>The splashing ceased. There was the sound of a towel in vigorous motion. +This was followed by the rustling of garments as the bather dressed. In +an astonishingly short time the owner of the rooms appeared in the +doorway.</p> + +<p>He was a well-set-up youth, broad of shoulder and compact of muscle. The +ruddy bloom that beat through the tanned cheeks and the elasticity of +his tread hinted at an age not great, but there was no suggestion of +immaturity in the cool steadiness of the gaze or in the quiet poise of +the attitude.</p> + +<p>He indicated a chair, after relieving his visitor of hat and cane. +Pesquiera glanced at the bandage round the head.</p> + +<p>"I trust, <i>señor</i>, your experience of yesterday has not given you a +wakeful night?"</p> + +<p>"Slept like a top. Fact is, I'm just getting up. You heard this morning +yet how Tom is?"</p> + +<p>"The morning newspaper says he is doing very well indeed."</p> + +<p>"That's good hearing. He's a first-rate boy, and I'd hate to hear worse +of him. But I mustn't take your time over our affairs. I think you +mentioned business, sir?"</p> + +<p>The Castilian leaned forward and fixed his black, piercing eyes on the +other. Straight into his business he plunged.</p> + +<p>"Señor Gordon, have you ever heard of the Valdés grant?"</p> + +<p>"Not to remember it. What kind of a grant is it?"</p> + +<p>"It is a land grant, made by Governor Facundo Megares, of New Mexico, +which territory was then a province of Spain, to Don Fernando Valdés, in +consideration of services rendered the Spanish crown against the +Indians."</p> + +<p>Dick shook his head. "You've got me, sir. If I ever heard of it the +thing has plumb slipped my mind. Ought I to know about it?"</p> + +<p>"Have you ever heard of the Moreño grant?"</p> + +<p>Somewhere in the back of the young man's mind a faint memory stirred. He +seemed to see an old man seated at a table in a big room with a carved +fireplace. The table was littered with papers, and the old gentleman was +explaining them to a woman. She was his daughter, Dick's mother. A slip +of a youngster was playing about the room with two puppies. That little +five-year-old was the young mine operator.</p> + +<p>"I have," he answered calmly.</p> + +<p>"You know, then, that a later governor of the territory, Manuel Armijo, +illegally carved half a million acres out of the former grant and gave +it to José Moreño, from whom your grandfather bought it."</p> + +<p>The miner's face froze to impassivity. He was learning news. The very +existence of such a grant was a surprise to him. His grandfather and his +mother had been dead fifteen years. Somewhere in an old trunk back in +Kentucky there was a tin box full of papers that might tell a story. But +for the present he preferred to assume that he knew what information +they contained.</p> + +<p>"I object to the word illegal, Don Manuel," he answered curtly, not at +all sure his objection had any foundation of law.</p> + +<p>Pesquiera shrugged. "Very well, <i>señor</i>. The courts, I feel sure, will +sustain my words."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps, and perhaps not."</p> + +<p>"The law is an expensive arbiter, Señor Gordon. Your claim is slight. +The title has never been perfected by you. In fifteen years you have +paid no taxes. Still your claim, though worthless in itself, operates as +a cloud upon the title of my client, the Valdés heir."</p> + +<p>Dick looked at him steadily and nodded. He began to see the purpose of +this visit. He waited silently, his mind very alert.</p> + +<p>"<i>Señor</i>, I am here to ask of you a relinquishment. You are brave; no +doubt, chivalrous——"</p> + +<p>"I'm a business man, Don Manuel," interrupted Gordon. "I don't see what +chivalry has got to do with it."</p> + +<p>"Señorita Valdés is a woman, young and beautiful. This little estate is +her sole possession. To fight for it in court is a hardship that Señor +Gordon will not force upon her."</p> + +<p>"So she's young and beautiful, is she?"</p> + +<p>"The fairest daughter of Spain in all New Mexico," soared Don Manuel.</p> + +<p>"You don't say. A regular case of beauty and the beast, ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"As one of her friends, I ask of you not to oppose her lawful possession +of this little vineyard."</p> + +<p>"In the grape business, is she?"</p> + +<p>"I speak, <i>señor</i>, in metaphor. The land is barren, of no value except +for sheep grazing."</p> + +<p>"Are you asking me to sell my title or give it?"</p> + +<p>"It is a bagatelle—a mere nothing. The title is but waste paper, I do +assure. Yet we would purchase—for a nominal figure—merely to save +court expenses."</p> + +<p>"I see," Dick laughed softly. "Just to save court expenses—because +you'd rather I'd have the money than the lawyers. That's right good of +you."</p> + +<p>Pesquiera talked with his hands and shoulders, sparkling into animation. +"Mr. Gordon distrusts me. So? Am I not right? He perhaps mistakes me for +what you call a—a pettifogger, is it not? I do assure to the contrary. +The blood of the Pesquieras is of the bluest Castilian."</p> + +<p>"Fine! I'll take your word for it, Don Manuel. And I don't distrust you +at all. But here's the point. I'm a plain American business man. I don't +buy and I don't sell without first investigating a proposition submitted +to me. I'm from Missouri."</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed! From St. Louis perhaps. I went to school there when I was a +boy."</p> + +<p>Gordon laughed. "I was speaking in metaphor, Don Manuel. What I mean is +that I'll have to be shown. No pig-in-a-poke business for me."</p> + +<p>"Exactly. Most precisely. Have I not traveled from New Mexico up this +steep roof of the continent merely to explain how matters stand? +Valencia Valdés is the true and rightful heiress of the valley. She is +everywhere so recognize' and accept' by the peons."</p> + +<p>The miner's indolent eye rested casually upon his guest. "Married?"</p> + +<p>"I have not that felicitation," replied the Spaniard.</p> + +<p>"It was the lady I meant."</p> + +<p>"Pardon. No man has yet been so fortunate to win the <i>señorita</i>"</p> + +<p>"I reckon it's not for want of trying, since the heiress is so +beautiful. There's always plenty of willing lads to take over the job of +prince regent under such circumstances."</p> + +<p>The spine of the New Mexican stiffened ever so slightly. "Señorita +Valdés is princess of the Rio Chama valley. Her dependents understan' +she is of a differen' caste, a descendant of the great and renowned Don +Alvaro of Castile."</p> + +<p>"Don't think I know the gentleman. Who was he?" asked Gordon genially, +offering his guest a cigar.</p> + +<p>Pesquiera threw up his neat little hands in despair. "But of a certainty +Mr. Gordon has read of Don Alvaro de Valdés y Castillo, lord of demesnes +without number, conqueror of the Moors and of the fierce island English +who then infested Spain in swarms. His retinue was as that of a king. At +his many manors fed daily thirty thousand men at arms. In all Europe no +knight so brave, so chivalrous, so skillful with lance and sword. To the +nobles his word was law. Young men worshiped him, the old admired, the +poor blessed. The queen, it is said, love' him madly. She was of +exceeding beauty, but Don Alvaro remember his vows of knighthood and +turn his back upon madness. Then the king, jealous for that his great +noble was better, braver and more popular than he, send for de Valdés to +come to court."</p> + +<p>"I reckon Don Alvaro ought to have been sick a-bed that day and unable +to make the journey," suggested Dick.</p> + +<p>"So say his wife and his men, but Don Alvaro scorn to believe his king a +traitor. He kiss his wife and babies good-bye, ride into the trap +prepare' for him, and die like a soldier. God rest his valiant soul."</p> + +<p>"Some man. I'd like to have met him," Gordon commented.</p> + +<p>"Señorita Valencia is of the same blood, of the same fine courage. She, +too, is the idol of her people. Will Mr. Gordon, who is himself of the +brave heart, make trouble for an unprotected child without father or +mother?"</p> + +<p>"Unprotected isn't quite the word so long as Don Manuel Pesquiera is her +friend," the Coloradoan answered with a smile.</p> + +<p>The dark young man flushed, but his eyes met those of Dick steadily. +"You are right, sir. I stand between her and trouble if I can."</p> + +<p>"Good. Glad you do."</p> + +<p>"So I make you an offer. I ask you to relinquish your shadowy claim to +the illegal Moreño grant."</p> + +<p>"Well, I can't tell you offhand just what I'll do, Don Manuel. Make your +proposition to me in writing, and one month from to-day I'll let you +know whether it's yes or no."</p> + +<p>"But the <i>señorita</i> wants to make improvements—to build, to fence. +Delay is a hardship. Let us say a thousand dollars and make an end."</p> + +<p>"Not if the court knows itself. You say she's young. A month's wait +won't hurt her any. I want to look into it. Maybe you're offering me too +much. A fifth of a cent an acre is a mighty high price for land. I don't +want any fairest daughter of Spain to rob herself for me, you know," he +grinned.</p> + +<p>"I exceed my instructions. I offer two thousand, Mr. Gordon."</p> + +<p>"If you said two hundred thousand, I'd still say no till I had looked it +up. I'm not doing business to-day at any price, thank you."</p> + +<p>"You are perhaps of an impression that this land is valuable. On the +contrary, I offer an assurance. And our need of your shadowy claim——"</p> + +<p>"I ain't burdened with impressions, except one, that I don't care to +dispose of my ghost-title. We'll talk business a month from to-day, if +you like. No sooner. Have a smoke, Don Manuel?"</p> + +<p>Pesquiera declined the proffered cigar with an impatient gesture. He +rose, reclaimed his hat and cane, and clicked his heels together in a +stiff bow.</p> + +<p>He was a slight, dark, graceful man, with small, neat hands and feet, +trimly gloved and shod. He had a small black mustache pointing upward in +parallels to his smooth, olive cheeks. The effect was almost foppish, +but the fire in the snapping eyes contradicted any suggestion of +effeminacy. His gaze yielded nothing even to the searching one of +Gordon.</p> + +<p>"It is, then, war between us, Señor Gordon?" he asked haughtily.</p> + +<p>Dick laughed.</p> + +<p>"Sho! It's just business. Maybe I'll take your offer. Maybe I won't. I +might want to run down and look at the no-'count land," he said with a +laugh.</p> + +<p>"I think it fair to inform you, sir, that the feeling of the country +down there is in favor of the Valdés grant. The peons are hot-tempered, +and are likely to resent any attempt to change the existing conditions. +Your presence, <i>señor</i>, would be a danger."</p> + +<p>"Much obliged, Don Manuel. Tell 'em from me that I got a bad habit of +wearing a six-gun, and that if they get to resenting too arduous it's +likely to ventilate their enthusiasm."</p> + +<p>Once more the New Mexican bowed stiffly before he retired.</p> + +<p>Pesquiera had overplayed his hand. He had stirred in the miner an +interest born of curiosity and a sense of romantic possibilities. Dick +wanted to see this daughter of Castile who was still to the +simple-hearted shepherds of the valley a princess of the blood royal. +Don Manuel was very evidently her lover. Perhaps it was his imagination +that had mixed the magic potion that lent an atmosphere of old-world +pastoral charm to the story of the Valdés grant. Likely enough the girl +would prove commonplace in a proud half-educated fashion that would be +intolerable for a stranger.</p> + +<p>But even without the help of the New Mexican the situation was one which +called for a thorough personal investigation. Gordon was a hard-headed +American business man, though he held within him the generous and +hare-brained potentialities of a soldier of fortune. He meant to find +out just what the Moreño grant was worth. After he had investigated his +legal standing he would look over the valley of the Chama himself. He +took no stock in Don Manuel's assurance that the land was worthless, any +more than he gave weight to his warning that a personal visit to the +scene would be dangerous if the settlers believed he came to interfere +with their rights. For many turbulent years Dick Gordon had held his own +in a frontier community where untamed enemies had passed him daily with +hate in their hearts. He was not going to let the sulky resentment of a +few shepherds interfere with his course now.</p> + +<p>A message flashed back to a little town in Kentucky that afternoon. It +was of the regulation ten-words length, and this was the body of it:<br /><br /></p> + +<blockquote><div>Send immediately, by express, little brown leather trunk in garret.<br /><br /></div></blockquote> + +<p>The signature at the bottom of it was "Richard Gordon."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III" />CHAPTER III</h2> + +<div class="center">FISHERMAN'S LUCK<br /><br /></div> + + +<p>A fisherman was whipping the stream of the Rio Chama.</p> + +<p>In his creel were a dozen trout, for the speckled beauties had been +rising to the fly that skipped across the top of the riffles as +naturally as life. He wore waders, gray flannel shirt, and khaki coat. +As he worked up the stream he was oftener in its swirling waters than on +the shore. But just now the fish were no longer striking.</p> + +<p>"Time to grub, anyhow. I'll give them a rest for a while. They'll likely +be on the job again soon," he told himself as he waded ashore.</p> + +<p>A draw here ran down to the river, and its sunny hillside tempted him to +eat his lunch farther up.</p> + +<p>Into the little basin in which he found himself the sun had poured +shafts of glory to make a very paradise of color. Down by the riverside +the willows were hesitating between green and bronze. Russet and brown +and red peppered the slopes, but shades of yellow predominated in the +gulch itself.</p> + +<p>The angler ate his sandwiches leisurely, and stretched his lithe body +luxuriantly on the ground for a <i>siesta</i>. When he resumed his occupation +the sun had considerably declined from the meridian. The fish were again +biting, and he landed two in as many minutes.</p> + +<p>The bed of the river had been growing steeper, and at the upper entrance +of the little park he came to the first waterfall he had seen. Above +this, on the opposite side, was a hole that looked inviting. He decided +that a dead tree lying across the river would, at a pinch, serve for a +bridge, and he ventured upon it. Beneath his feet the rotting bark gave +way. He found himself falling, tried desperately to balance himself, and +plunged head first into the river.</p> + +<p>Coming to the surface, he caught at a rock which jutted from the +channel. At this point the water was deep and the current swift. Were he +to let loose of the boulder he must be swept over the fall before he +could reach the shore. Nor could he long maintain his position against +the rush of the ice-cold waters fresh from the mountain snow fields.</p> + +<p>He had almost made up his mind to take his chances with the fall, when a +clear cry came ringing to him:</p> + +<p>"<i>No suelte!</i>"</p> + +<p>A figure was flying down the slope toward him—the slim, graceful form +of a woman. As she ran she caught up a stick from the ground. This she +held out to him from the bank.</p> + +<p>He shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I would only drag you in."</p> + +<p>She put her fingers to her mouth and gave a clear whistle. Far up on the +slope a pony lifted its head and nickered. Again her whistle shrilled, +and the bronco trotted down toward her.</p> + +<p>"Can you hold on?" she asked in English.</p> + +<p>He was chilled to the marrow, but he answered quietly: "I reckon."</p> + +<p>She was gone, swift-footed as a deer, to meet the descending animal. He +saw her swing to the saddle and lean over it as the pace quickened to a +gallop.</p> + +<p>He did not know her fingers were busy preparing the rawhide lariat that +depended from the side of the saddle. On the very bank she brought up +with a jerk that dragged her mount together, and at the same moment +slipped to the ground.</p> + +<p>Running open the noose of the lariat, she dropped it surely over his +shoulders. The other end of the rope was fastened to the saddle-horn, +and the cow-pony, used to roping and throwing steers, braced itself with +wide-planted front feet for the shock.</p> + +<p>"Can you get your arm through the loop?" cried the girl.</p> + +<p>His arms were like lead, and almost powerless. With one hand he knew he +could not hang on. Nor did he try longer than for that one desperate +instant when he shot his fist through the loop. The wall of water swept +him away, but the taut rope swung him shoreward.</p> + +<p>Little hands caught hold of him and fought with the strong current for +the body of the almost unconscious man; fought steadily and strongly, +for there was strength in the small wrists and compact muscle in the +shapely arms. She was waist deep in the water before she won, for from +above she could find no purchase for the lift.<br /></p> + + +<p>The fisherman's opening eyes looked into dark anxious ones that gazed at +him from beneath the longest lashes he had ever seen. He had an odd +sense of being tangled up in them and being unable to escape, of being +both abashed and happy in his imprisonment. What he thought was: "They +don't have eyes like those out of heaven." What he said was entirely +different.</p> + +<p>"Near thing. Hadn't been for you I wouldn't have made it."</p> + +<p>At his words she rose from her knees to her full height, and he saw that +she was slenderly tall and fashioned of gracious curves. The darkness of +her clear skin was emphasized by the mass of blue-black hair from which +little ears peeped with exquisite daintiness. The mouth was sweet and +candid, red-lipped, with perfect teeth just showing in the full arch. +The straight nose, with its sensitive nostrils, proclaimed her pure +patrician.</p> + +<p>"You are wet," he cried. "You went in after me."</p> + +<p>She looked down at her dripping skirts, and laughter rippled over her +face like the wind in golden grain. It brought out two adorable dimples +near the tucked-in corners of her mouth.</p> + +<p>"I am damp," she conceded.</p> + +<p>"Why did you do it? The water might have swept you away," he chided, +coming to a sitting posture.</p> + +<p>"And if I hadn't it might have swept you away," she answered, with a +flash of her ivory teeth.</p> + +<p>He rose and stood before her.</p> + +<p>"You risked your life to save mine."</p> + +<p>"Is it not worth it, sir?"</p> + +<p>"That ain't for me to say. The point is, you took the chance."</p> + +<p>Her laughter bubbled again. "You mean, I took the bath."</p> + +<p>"I expect you'll have to listen to what I've got to say, ma'am."</p> + +<p>"Are you going to scold me? Was I precipitate? Perhaps you were +attempting suicide. Forgive, I pray."</p> + +<p>He ignored her raillery, and told her what he thought of a courage so +fine and ready. He permitted a smile to temper his praise, as he added: +"You mustn't go jumping in the river after strangers if you don't want +them to say, 'Thank you kindly.' You find four out of five of them want +to, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"It is not yet a habit of mine. You're the first"</p> + +<p>"I hope I'll be the last."</p> + +<p>She began to wring out the bottom of her skirt, and he was on his knees +at once to do it for her.</p> + +<p>"That will do very nicely," she presently said, the color billowing her +cheeks.</p> + +<p>He gathered wood and lit a fire, being fortunate enough to find his +match-case had been waterproof. He piled on dry branches till the fire +roared and licked out for the moisture in their clothes.</p> + +<p>"I've been wondering how you happened to see me in the water," he said. +"You were riding past, I expect?"</p> + +<p>"No, I was sketching. I saw you when you came up to eat your lunch, and +I watched you go back to the river."</p> + +<p>"Do you live near here, then?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"About three miles away."</p> + +<p>"And you were watching me all the time?" He put his statement as a +question.</p> + +<p>"No, I wasn't," the young woman answered indignantly. "You happened to +be in the landscape."</p> + +<p>"A blot in it," he suggested. "A hop-toad splashing in the puddle."</p> + +<p>The every-ready dimples flashed out at this. "You did make quite a +splash when you went in. The fish must have thought it was a whale."</p> + +<p>"And when I told you the water was fine, and you came in, too, they +probably took you for a naiad."</p> + +<p>She thanked him with an informal little nod.</p> + +<p>"I thought you Anglo-Saxons did not give compliments."</p> + +<p>"I don't," he immediately answered.</p> + +<p>"Oh! If that isn't another one, I'm mistaken, sir." She turned +indifferently away, apparently of the opinion that she had been quite +friendly enough to this self-possessed young stranger.</p> + +<p>Rewinding the lariat, she fastened it to the saddle, then swung to the +seat before he could step forward to aid her.</p> + +<p>"I hope you will suffer no bad effects from your bath," he said.</p> + +<p>"I shall not; but I'm afraid you will. You were in long enough to get +thoroughly chilled. <i>Adios, señor.</i>"</p> + +<p>He called to her before the pony had taken a dozen steps:</p> + +<p>"Your handkerchief, <i>señorita</i>!"</p> + +<p>She turned in the saddle and waited for him to bring it. He did so, and +she noticed that he limped badly.</p> + +<p>"You have hurt yourself," she said quickly.</p> + +<p>"I must have jammed my knee against a rock," he explained. "Nothing +serious."</p> + +<p>"But it pains?"</p> + +<p>"Just enough to let me know it's there."</p> + +<p>Frowning, she watched him.</p> + +<p>"Is it a bruise or a sprain?"</p> + +<p>"A wrench, I think. It will be all right if I favor it"</p> + +<p>"Favor it? Except the ranch, there is no place nearer than seven miles. +You are staying at Corbett's, I presume?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"You can't walk back there to-night. That is certain." She slipped from +the saddle. "You'll have to go back to the ranch with me, sir. I can +walk very well."</p> + +<p>He felt a wave of color sweep his face.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't take the horse and let you walk."</p> + +<p>"That is nonsense, sir. You can, and you shall."</p> + +<p>"If I am to take your horse I need not saddle myself upon your +hospitality. I can ride back to Corbett's, and send the horse home +to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"It is seven miles to Miguel's, and Corbett's is three beyond that. No +doctor would advise that long ride before your knee receives attention, +I think, sir, you will have to put up with the ranch till to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"You ain't taking my intention right. All I meant was that I didn't like +to unload myself on your folks; but if you say I'm to do it I'll be very +happy to be your guest." He said it with a touch of boyish embarrassment +she found becoming.</p> + +<p>"We'll stop at the top of the hill and take on my drawing things," she +told him.</p> + +<p>He need have had no fears for her as a walker, for she was of the elect +few born to grace of motion. Slight she was, yet strong; the delicacy +that breathed from her was of the spirit, and consisted with perfect +health. No Grecian nymph could have trod with lighter or surer step nor +have unconsciously offered to the eye more supple and beautiful lines of +limb and body.</p> + +<p>Never had the young man seen before anybody whose charm went so +poignantly to the root of his emotions. Every turn of the head, the set +of the chin, the droop of the long, thick lashes on the soft cheek, the +fling of a gesture, the cadence of her voice; they all delighted and +fascinated him. She was a living embodiment of joy-in-life, of love +personified.</p> + +<p>She packed her sketches and her paraphernalia with businesslike +directness, careless of whether he did or did not see her water-colors. +A movement of his hand stayed her as she took from, the easel the one +upon which she had been engaged.</p> + +<p>It represented the sun-drenched slope below them, with the little gulch +dressed riotously in its gala best of yellows.</p> + +<p>"You've got that fine," he told her enthusiastically.</p> + +<p>She shook her head, unmoved by praise which did not approve itself to +her judgment as merited.</p> + +<p>"No, I didn't get it at all. A great artist might get the wonder of it; +but I can't."</p> + +<p>"It looks good to me," he said.</p> + +<p>"Then I'm afraid you're not a judge," she smiled.</p> + +<p>From where they stood a trail wound along the ridge and down into a +valley beyond. At the farther edge of this, nestling close to the hills +that took root there, lay the houses of a ranch.</p> + +<p>"That is where I live," she told him.</p> + +<p>He thought it a lovely spot, almost worthy of her, but obviously he +could not tell her so. Instead, he voiced an alien thought that happened +to intrude:</p> + +<p>"Do you know Señorita Valdés? But of course you must."</p> + +<p>She flung a quick glance at him, questioning.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know her."</p> + +<p>"She lives somewhere round here, too, does she not?"</p> + +<p>Her arm swept round in a comprehensive gesture. "Over that way, too."</p> + +<p>"Do you know her well?"</p> + +<p>An odd smile dimpled her face.</p> + +<p>"Sometimes I think I do, and then again I wonder."</p> + +<p>"I have been told she is beautiful."</p> + +<p>"Beauty is in the beholder's eyes, <i>señor</i>. Valencia Valdés is as Heaven +made her."</p> + +<p>"I have no doubt; but Heaven took more pains with some of us than +others—it appears."</p> + +<p>Again the dark eyes under the long lashes swept him from the curly head +to the lean, muscular hands, and approved silently the truth of his +observation. The clean lithe build of the man, muscles packed so that +they rippled smoothly like those of a panther, appealed to her trained +eyes. So, too, did the quiet, steady eyes in the bronzed face, holding +as they did the look of competent alertness that had come from years of +frontier life.</p> + +<p>"You are interested in Miss Valdés?" she asked politely.</p> + +<p>"In a way of speaking, I am. She is one of the reasons why I came here."</p> + +<p>"Indeed! She would no doubt be charmed to know of your interest," still +with polite detachment.</p> + +<p>"My interest ain't exactly personal; then again it is," he contributed.</p> + +<p>"A sort of an impersonal personal interest?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; though I don't quite know what that means."</p> + +<p>"Then I can't be expected to," she laughed.</p> + +<p>His laughter joined hers; but presently he recurred to his question:</p> + +<p>"You haven't told me yet about Miss Valdés. Is she as lovely as they say +she is?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know just how lovely they say she is. Sometimes I have thought +her very passable; then again—" She broke off with a defiant little +laugh. "Don't you know, sir, that you mustn't ask one lady to praise the +beauty of another?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose I may ask questions?" he said, much amused.</p> + +<p>"It depends a little on the questions."</p> + +<p>"Is she tall?"</p> + +<p>"Rather. About as tall as I am."</p> + +<p>"And dark, of course, since she is a Spanish <i>señorita</i>"</p> + +<p>"Yes, she is dark."</p> + +<p>"Slim and graceful, I expect?"</p> + +<p>"She is slender."</p> + +<p>"I reckon she banks a heap on that blue blood of hers?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; she is prouder of it than there is really any need of, though I +think probably her pride is unconscious and a matter of habit."</p> + +<p>"I haven't been able to make out yet whether you like her," he laughed.</p> + +<p>"I don't see what my liking has to do with it."</p> + +<p>"I expect to meet her, and I want to use your judgment to base mine on."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you expect to meet her?"</p> + +<p>She said it lightly, yet with a certain emphasis that he noted.</p> + +<p>"Don't you think she will let me? Do I have to show blue blood before I +can be presented? One of my ancestors came over on the <i>Mayflower</i>. Will +that do?"</p> + +<p>Her raillery met his.</p> + +<p>"That ought to do, I should think. I suppose you have brought +genealogical proofs with you?"</p> + +<p>"I clean forgot. Won't you please get on and ride now? I feel like a +false alarm, playing the invalid on you, ma'am."</p> + +<p>"No; I'll walk. We're almost at the ranch. It's just under this hill. +But there's one thing I want to ask of you as a favor."</p> + +<p>"It's yours," he replied briefly.</p> + +<p>She seemed to struggle with some emotion before she spoke:</p> + +<p>"Please don't mention Valencia Valdés while you are at the ranch. I—I +have reasons, sir."</p> + +<p>"Certainly; I'll do as you prefer."</p> + +<p>To himself he thought that there was probably a feud of some kind +between the two families that might make a mention of the name +unpleasant. "And that reminds me that I don't know what your name is. +Mine is Muir—Richard Muir."</p> + +<p>"And mine is Maria Yuste."</p> + +<p>He offered her his brown hand. "I'm right happy to meet you, Señorita +Maria."</p> + +<p>"Welcome to the Yuste <i>hacienda, señor</i>. What is ours is yours, so long +as you are our guest. I pray you make yourself at home," she said as +they rode into the courtyard.</p> + +<p>Two Mexican lads came running forward; and one whom she called Pedro +took the horse, while the other went into the house to attend to a quick +command she gave in Spanish.</p> + +<p>The man who had named himself Richard Muir followed his hostess through +a hall, across an open court, and into a living-room carpeted with +Navajo rugs, at the end of which was a great open fireplace bearing a +Spanish motto across it.</p> + +<p>Large windows, set three feet deep in the thick adobe walls, were filled +with flowers or padded with sofa pillows for seats. One of these his +hostess indicated to the limping man.</p> + +<p>"If you will be seated here for the present, sir, your room will be +ready very soon."</p> + +<p>A few minutes later the fisherman found himself in a large bedroom. He +was seated in an easy-chair before a crackling fire of <i>piñon</i> knots.</p> + +<p>A messenger had been dispatched for a doctor, Señorita Yuste had told +him, and in the meantime he was to make himself quite at home.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV" />CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<div class="center">AT THE YUSTE HACIENDA<br /><br /></div> + + +<p>The wrench to the fisherman's knee proved more serious than he had +anticipated. The doctor pronounced it out of the question that he should +be moved for some days at least.</p> + +<p>The victim was more than content, because he was very much interested in +the young woman who had been his rescuer, and because it gave him a +chance to observe at first hand the remains of the semifeudal system +that had once obtained in New Mexico and California.</p> + +<p>It was easy for him to see that Señorita Maria Yuste was still +considered by her dependents as a superior being, one far removed from +them by the divinity of caste that hedged her in. They gave her service; +and she, on her part, looked out for their needs, and was the patron +saint to whom they brought all their troubles.</p> + +<p>It was an indolent, happy life the peons on the estate led, patriarchal +in its nature, and far removed from the throb of the money-mad world. +They had enough to eat and to wear. There was a roof over their heads. +There were girls to be loved, dances to be danced, and guitars to be +strummed. Wherefore, then, should the young men feel the spur of an +ambition to take the world by the throat and wring success from it?</p> + +<p>It had been more years than he could remember since this young American +had taken a real holiday except for an occasional fishing trip on the +Gunnison or into Wyoming. He had lived a life of activity. Now for the +first time he learned how to be lazy. To dawdle indolently on one of the +broad porches, while Miss Yuste sat beside him and busied herself over +some needlework, was a sensuous delight that filled him with content. He +felt that he would like to bask there in the warm sunshine forever. +After all, why should he pursue wealth and success when love and +laughter waited for him in this peaceful valley chosen of the gods?</p> + +<p>The fourth morning of his arrival he hobbled out to the south porch +after breakfast, to find his hostess in corduroy skirt, high laced +boots, and pinched-in sombrero. She was drawing on a pair of driving +gauntlets. One of the stable boys was standing beside a rig he had just +driven to the house.</p> + +<p>The young woman flung a flashing smile at her guest.</p> + +<p>"Good day, Señor Muir. I hope you had a good night's rest, and that your +knee did not greatly pain you?"</p> + +<p>"I feel like a colt in the pasture—fit for anything. But the doctor +won't have it that way. He says I'm an invalid," returned the young man +whimsically.</p> + +<p>"The doctor ought to know," she laughed.</p> + +<p>"I expect it won't do me any harm to lie still for a day or two. We +Americans all have the git-up-and-dust habit. We got to keep going, +though Heaven knows what we're going for sometimes."</p> + +<p>Though he did not know it, her interest in him was considerable, though +certainly critical. He was a type outside of her experience, and, by the +law of opposites, attracted her. Every line of him showed tremendous +driving power, force, energy. He was not without some touch of Western +swagger; but it went well with the air of youth to which his boyish +laugh and wavy, sun-reddened hair contributed.</p> + +<p>The men of her station that she knew were of one pattern, indolent, +well-bred aristocrats, despisers of trade and of those who indulged in +it more than was necessary to live. But her mother had been an American +girl, and there was in her blood a strong impulse toward the great +nation of which her father's people were not yet in spirit entirely a +part.</p> + +<p>"I have to drive to Antelope Springs this morning. It is not a rough +trip at all. If you would care to see the country——"</p> + +<p>She paused, a question in her face. Her guest jumped at the chance.</p> + +<p>"There is nothing I should like better. If you are sure it will be no +inconvenience."</p> + +<p>"I am sure I should not have asked you if I had not wanted you," she +said; and he took it as a reproof.</p> + +<p>She drove a pair of grays that took the road with the spirit of racers. +The young woman sat erect and handled the reins masterfully, the while +Muir leaned back and admired the steadiness of the slim, strong wrists, +the businesslike directness with which she gave herself to her work, the +glow of life whipped into her eyes and cheeks by the exhilaration of the +pace.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you know all about these old land-grants that were made when +New Mexico was a Spanish colony and later when it was a part of Mexico," +he suggested.</p> + +<p>Her dark eyes rested gravely on him an instant before she answered: +"Most of us that were brought up on them know something of the facts."</p> + +<p>"You are familiar with the Valdés grant?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And with the Moreño grant, made by Governor Armijo?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"The claims conflict, do they not?"</p> + +<p>"The Moreño grant is taken right from the heart of the Valdés grant. It +includes all the springs, the valleys, the irrigable land; takes in +everything but the hilly pasture land in the mountains, which, in +itself, is valueless."</p> + +<p>"The land included in this grant is of great value?"</p> + +<p>"It pastures at the present time fifty thousand sheep and about twelve +thousand head of cattle."</p> + +<p>"Owned by Miss Valdés?"</p> + +<p>"Owned by her and her tenants."</p> + +<p>"She's what you call a cattle queen, then. Literally, the cattle on a +thousand hills are hers."</p> + +<p>"As they were her father's and her grandfather's before her, to be held +in trust for the benefit of about eight hundred tenants," she answered +quietly.</p> + +<p>"Tell me more about it. The original grantee was Don Bartolomé de +Valdés, was he not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. He was the great-great-grandson of Don Alvaro de Valdés y +Castillo, who lost his head because he was a braver and a better man +than the king. Don Bartolomé, too, was a great soldier and ruler. He was +generous and public-spirited to a fault; and when the people of this +province suffered from Indian raids he distributed thousands of sheep to +relieve their distress."</p> + +<p>"Bully for the old boy. He was a real philanthropist."</p> + +<p>"Not at all. He <i>had</i> to do it. His position required it of him."</p> + +<p>"That was it, eh?"</p> + +<p>Her dusky eyes questioned him.</p> + +<p>"You couldn't understand, I suppose, since you are an American, how he +was the father and friend of all the people in these parts; how his +troopers and <i>vaqueros</i> were a defense to the whole province?"</p> + +<p>"I think I can understand that."</p> + +<p>"So it was, even to his death, that he looked out for the poor peons +dependent upon him. His herds grew mighty; and he asked of Facundo +Megares, governor of the royal province, a grant of land upon which to +pasture them. These herds were for his people; but they were in his name +and belonged to him. Why should he not have been given land for them, +since his was the sword that had won the land against the Apaches?"</p> + +<p>"You ain't heard me say he shouldn't have had it"</p> + +<p>"So the <i>alcalde</i> executed the act of possession for a tract, to be +bounded on the south by Crow Spring, following its cordillera to the Ojo +del Chico, east to the Pedornal range, north to the Ojo del Cibolo +—Buffalo Springs—and west to the great divide. It was a princely +estate, greater than the State of Delaware; and Don Bartolomé held it +for the King of Spain, and ruled over it with powers of life and death, +but always wisely and generously, like the great-hearted gentleman he +was."</p> + +<p>"Bully for him."</p> + +<p>"And at his death his son ruled in his stead; and <i>his</i> only son died in +the Spanish-American War, as a lieutenant of volunteers in the United +States Army. He was shot before Santiago."</p> + +<p>The voice died away in her tremulous throat; and he wondered if it could +be possible that this girl had been betrothed to the young soldier. But +presently she spoke again, cheerfully and lightly:</p> + +<p>"Wherefore, it happens that there remains only a daughter of the house +of Valdés to carry the burden that should have been her brother's, to +look out for his people, and to protect them both against themselves and +others. She may fail; but, if I know her, the failure will not be +because she has not tried."</p> + +<p>"Good for her. I'd like to shake her aristocratic little paw and tell +her to buck in and win."</p> + +<p>"She would no doubt be grateful for your sympathy," the young woman +answered, flinging a queer little look of irony at him.</p> + +<p>"But what's the hitch about the Valdés grant? Why is there a doubt of +its legality?"</p> + +<p>She smiled gaily at him.</p> + +<p>"No person who desires to remain healthy has any doubts in this +neighborhood. We are all partizans of Valencia Valdés; and many of her +tenants are such warm followers that they would not think twice about +shedding blood in defense of her title. You must remember that they hold +through her right. If she were dispossessed so would they be."</p> + +<p>"Is that a threat? I mean, would it be if I were a claimant?" he asked, +meeting her smile pleasantly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no. Miss Valdés would regret any trouble, and so should I." A +shadow crossed her face as she spoke. "But she could not prevent her +friends from violence, I am afraid. You see, she is only a girl, after +all. They would move without her knowledge. I know they would."</p> + +<p>"How would they move? Would it be a knife in the dark?"</p> + +<p>His gray eyes, which had been warm as summer sunshine on a hill, were +now fixed on her with chill inscrutability.</p> + +<p>"I don't know. It might be that. Very likely." He saw the pulse in her +throat beating fast as she hesitated before she plunged on. "A warning +is not a threat. If you know this Señor Gordon, tell him to sell +whatever claim he has. Tell him, at least, to fight from a distance; not +to come to this valley himself. Else his life would be at hazard."</p> + +<p>"If he is a man that will not keep him away. He will fight for what is +his all the more because there is danger. What's more, he'll do his +fighting on the ground—unless he's a quitter."</p> + +<p>She sighed.</p> + +<p>"I was afraid so."</p> + +<p>"But you have not told me yet the alleged defect in the Valdés claim. +There must be some point of law upon which the thing hangs."</p> + +<p>"It is claimed that Don Bartolomé did not take up his actual residence +on the grant, as the law required. Then, too, he himself was later +governor of the province, and while he was president of the Ayuntamiento +at Tome he officially indorsed some small grants of land made from this +estate. He did this because he wanted the country developed, and was +willing to give part of what he had to his neighbors; but I suppose the +contestant will claim this showed he had abandoned his grant."</p> + +<p>"I see. Title not perfected," he summed up briefly.</p> + +<p>"We deny it, of course—I mean, Miss Valdés does. She shows that in his +will the old <i>don</i> mentions it, and that her father lived there without +interruption, even though Manuel Armijo later granted the best of it to +José Moreño."</p> + +<p>"It would be pretty tough for her to be fired out now. I reckon she's +attached to the place, her and her folks having lived there so long," +the young man mused aloud.</p> + +<p>"Her whole life is wrapped up in it. It is the home of her people. She +belongs to it, and it to her," the girl answered.</p> + +<p>"Mebbe this Gordon is a white man. I reckon he wouldn't drive her out. +Like as not he'd fix up a compromise. There's enough for both."</p> + +<p>She shook her head decisively.</p> + +<p>"No. It would have to be a money settlement. Miss Valdés's people are +settled all over the estate. Some of them have bought small ranches. You +see, she couldn't—throw them down—as you Americans say."</p> + +<p>"That's right," he agreed. "Well, I shouldn't wonder but it can be fixed +up some way."</p> + +<p>They had been driving across a flat cactus country, and for some time +had been approaching the grove of willows into which she now turned. +Some wooden barns, a corral, an adobe house, and outhouses marked the +place as one of the more ambitious ranches of the valley.</p> + +<p>An old Mexican came forward with a face wreathed in smiles.</p> + +<p><i>"Buenos,</i> Doña Maria," he cried, in greeting.</p> + +<p>"<i>Buenos,</i> Antonio. This gentleman is Mr. Richard Muir."</p> + +<p>"<i>Buenos, señor</i>. A friend of Doña Maria is a friend of Antonio."</p> + +<p>"The older people call me '<i>doña,</i>'" the girl explained. "I suppose they +think it strange a girl should have to do with affairs, and so they +think of me as '<i>doña,</i>' instead of '<i>señorita,</i>' to satisfy +themselves."</p> + +<p>A vague suspicion, that had been born in the young man's mind +immediately after his rescue from the river now recurred.</p> + +<p>His first thought then had been that this young woman must be Valencia +Valdés; but he had dismissed it when he had seen the initial M on her +kerchief, and when she had subsequently left him to infer that such was +not the case.</p> + +<p>He remembered now in what respect she was held in the home <i>hacienda</i>; +how everybody they had met had greeted her with almost reverence. It was +not likely that two young heiresses, both of them beautiful orphans, +should be living within a few miles of each other.</p> + +<p>Besides, he remembered that this very Antelope Springs was mentioned in +the deed of conveyance which he had lately examined before leaving the +mining camp. She was giving orders about irrigating ditches as if she +were owner.</p> + +<p>It followed then that she must be Valencia Valdés. There could be no +doubt of it.</p> + +<p>He watched her as she talked to old Antonio and gave the necessary +directions. How radiant and happy she was in this life which had fallen +to her; by inheritance! He vowed she should not be disinherited through +any action of his. He owed her his life. At least, he could spare her +this blow.</p> + +<p>They drove home more silently than they had come. He was thinking over +the best way to do what he was going to do. The evening before they had +sat together in front of the fire in the living-room, while her old +duenna had nodded in a big arm-chair. So they would sit to-night and +to-morrow night.</p> + +<p>He would send at once for the papers upon which his claim depended, and +he would burn them before her eyes. After that they would be +friends—and, in the end, much more than friends.</p> + +<p>He was still dreaming his air-castle, when they drove through the gate +that led to her home. In front of the porch a saddled bronco trailed its +rein, and near by stood a young man in riding-breeches and spurs. He +turned at the sound of wheels; and the man in the buggy saw that it was +Manuel Pesquiera.</p> + +<p>The Spaniard started when he recognized the other, and his eyes grew +bright. He moved forward to assist the young woman in alighting; but, in +spite of his bad knee, the Coloradoan was out of the rig and before him.</p> + +<p>"<i>Buenos, amigo</i>" she nodded to Don Manuel, lightly releasing the hand +of Muir.</p> + +<p>"<i>Buenos, señorita</i>" returned that young man. "I behold you are already +acquaint' with Mr. Richard Gordon, whose arrival is to me very +unexpect'."</p> + +<p>She seemed to grow tall before her guest's eyes; to stand in a kind of +proud splendor that had eclipsed her girlish slimness. The dark eyes +under the thick lashes looked long and searchingly at him.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Richard Gordon? I understand this gentleman's name to be Muir," she +made voice gently.</p> + +<p>Dick laughed with a touch of shame. Now once in his life he wished he +could prove an alibi. For, under the calm judgment of that steady gaze, +the thing he had done seemed scarce defensible.</p> + +<p>"Don Manuel has it right, <i>señorita</i>. Gordon is my name; Muir, too, for +that matter. Richard Muir Gordon is what I was christened."</p> + +<p>The underlying red of her cheeks had fled and left them clear olive. One +might have thought the scornful eyes had absorbed all the fire of her +face.</p> + +<p>"So you have lied to me, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Let me lay the facts before you, first. That's a hard word, +<i>señorita</i>."</p> + +<p>"You gave your name to me as Muir, You imposed yourself on my +hospitality under false pretenses. You are only a spy, come to my house +to mole for evidence against me."</p> + +<p>"No—no!" he cried sharply. "You will remember that I did not want to +come. I foresaw that it might be awkward, but I did not foresee this."</p> + +<p>"That you would be found out before you had won your end? I believe you, +sir," she retorted contemptuously.</p> + +<p>"I see I'm condemned before I'm heard."</p> + +<p>"Will any explanation alter the facts? Are you not a liar and a cheat? +You gave me a false name to spy out the land."</p> + +<p>"Am I the only one that gave a wrong name?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"That is different," she flamed. "You had made a mistake and, half in +sport, I encouraged you in it. But you seem to have found out my real +name since. Yet you still accepted what I had to offer, under a false +name, under false pretenses. You questioned me about the grants. You +have lived a lie from first to last."</p> + +<p>"It ain't as bad as you say, ma'am. Don Manuel had told me it wasn't +safe to come here in my own name. I didn't care about the safety, but I +wanted to see the situation exactly as it was. I didn't know who you +were when I came here. I took you to be Miss Maria Yuste. I——"</p> + +<p>"My name is Maria Yuste Valencia Valdés," the young woman explained +proudly. "When, may I ask, did you discover who I was?"</p> + +<p>"I guessed it at Antelope Springs."</p> + +<p>"Then why did you not tell me then who you are? Surely that was the time +to tell me. My deception did you no harm; yours was one no man of honor +could have endured after he knew who I was."</p> + +<p>"I didn't aim to keep it up very long. I meant, in a day or two——"</p> + +<p>"A day or two," she cried, in a blaze of scorn. "After you had found out +all I had to tell; after you had got evidence to back your robber-claim; +after you had made me breathe the same air so long with a spy?"</p> + +<p>Her face was very white; but she faced him in her erect slimness, with +her dark eyes fixed steadily on him.</p> + +<p>"You ain't quite fair to me; but let that pass for the present. When I +asked you about the grants didn't you guess who I was? Play square with +me. Didn't you have a notion?"</p> + +<p>A flood of spreading color swept back into her face.</p> + +<p>"No, I didn't. I thought perhaps you were an agent of the claimant; but +I didn't know you were passing under a false name, that you were aware +in whose house you were staying. I thought you an honest man, on the +wrong side—nothing so contemptible as a spy."</p> + +<p>"That idea's fixed in your mind, is it?" he asked quietly.</p> + +<p>"Beyond any power of yours to remove it," she flashed back.</p> + +<p>"The facts, Señor Gordon, speak loud," put in Pesquiera derisively.</p> + +<p>Dick Gordon paid not the least attention to him. His gaze was fastened +on the girl whose contempt was lashing him.</p> + +<p>"Very well, Miss Valdés. Well let it go at that just now. All I've got +to say is that some day you'll hate yourself for what you have just +said."</p> + +<p>Neither of them had raised their voices from first to last. Hers had +been low and intense, pulsing with the passion that would out. His had +held its even way.</p> + +<p>"I hate myself now, that I have had you here so long, that I have been +the dupe of a common cheat."</p> + +<p>"All right. 'Nough said, ma'am. More would certainly be surplusage. I'll +not trouble you any longer now. But I want you to remember that there's +a day coming when you'll travel a long way to take back all of what +you've just been saying. I want to thank you for all your kindness to +me. I'm always at your service for what you did for me. Good-bye, Miss +Valdés, for the present."</p> + +<p>"I am of impression, sir, that you go not too soon," said Pesquiera +suavely.</p> + +<p>Miss Valdés turned on her heel and swept up the steps of the porch; but +she stopped an instant before she entered the house to say over her +shoulder:</p> + +<p>"A buggy will be at your disposal to take you to Corbett's. If it is +convenient, I should like to have you go to-night."</p> + +<p>He smiled ironically.</p> + +<p>"I'll not trouble you for the buggy, <i>señorita</i>. If I'm all you say I +am, likely I'm a horse thief, too. Anyhow, we won't risk it. Walking's +good enough for me."</p> + +<p>"Just as you please," she choked, and forthwith disappeared into the +house.</p> + +<p>Gordon turned from gazing after her to find the little Spaniard bowing +before him.</p> + +<p>"Consider me at your service, Mr. Gordon——"</p> + +<p>"Can't use you," cut in Dick curtly.</p> + +<p>"I was remarking that, as her kinsman, I, Don Manuel Pesquiera, stand +prepared to make good her words. What the Señorita Valdés says, I say, +too."</p> + +<p>"Then don't say it aloud, you little monkey, or I'll throw you over the +house," Dick promised immediately.</p> + +<p>Don Manuel clicked his heels together and twirled his black mustache.</p> + +<p>"I offer you, sir, the remedy of a gentleman. You, sir, shall choose the +weapons."</p> + +<p>The Anglo-Saxon laughed in his face.</p> + +<p>"Good. Let it be toasting-forks, at twenty paces."</p> + +<p>The challenger drew himself up to his full five feet six.</p> + +<p>"You choose to be what you call droll. Sir, I give you the word, +poltroon—<i>lâche</i>—coward."</p> + +<p>"Oh, go chase yourself."</p> + +<p>One of Pesquiera's little gloved hands struck the other's face with a +resounding slap. Next instant he was lifted from his feet and tucked +under Dick's arm.</p> + +<p>There he remained, kicking and struggling, in a manner most undignified +for a blue blood of Castile, while the Coloradoan stepped leisurely +forward to the irrigating ditch which supplied water for the garden and +the field of grain behind. This was now about two feet deep, and running +strong. In it was deposited, at full length, the clapper little person +of Don Manuel Pesquiera, after which Dick Gordon turned and went limping +down the road.</p> + +<p>From the shutters of her room a girl had looked down and seen it all. +She saw Don Manuel rescue himself from the ditch, all dripping with +water. She saw him gesticulating wildly, as he cursed the retreating +foe, before betaking himself hurriedly from view to the rear of the +house, probably to dry himself and nurse his rage the while. She saw +Gordon go on his limping way without a single backward glance.</p> + +<p>Then she flung herself on her bed and burst into tears.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V" />CHAPTER V</h2> + +<div class="center">"AN OPTIMISTIC GUY"<br /><br /></div> + + +<p>Dick Gordon hobbled up the road, quite unaware for some time that he had +a ricked knee. His thoughts were busy with the finale that had just been +enacted. He could not keep from laughing ruefully at the difference +between it and the one of his day-dreams. He was too much of a Westerner +not to see the humor of the comedy in which he had been forced to take a +leading part, but he had insight enough to divine that it was much more +likely to prove melodrama than farce.</p> + +<p>Don Manuel was not the man to sit down under such an insult as he had +endured, even though he had brought it upon himself. It would too surely +be noised round that the <i>Americano</i> was the claimant to the estate, in +which event he was very likely to play the part of a sheath for restless +stilettos.</p> + +<p>This did not trouble him as much as it would have done some men. The +real sting of the episode lay in Valencia Valdés' attitude toward him. +He had been kicked out for his unworthiness. He had been cast aside as a +spy and a sneak.</p> + +<p>The worst of it was that he felt his clumsiness deserved no less an +issue to the adventure. Confound that little Don Manuel for bobbing up +at such an inconvenient time! It was fierce luck.</p> + +<p>He stopped his tramp up the hill, and looked back over the valley. +Legally it was all his. So his Denver lawyers had told him, after +looking the case over carefully. The courts would decide for him in all +probability; morally he had not the shadow of a claim. The valley in +justice belonged to those who had settled in it and were using it for +their needs. His claim was merely a paper one. It had not a scintilla of +natural justice back of it.</p> + +<p>He resumed his journey. By this time his knee was sending telegrams of +pain to headquarters. He cut an aspen by the roadside and trimmed it to +a walking-stick and, as he went forward, leaned more and more heavily +upon it.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to have a game leg for fair if I don't look out," he told +himself ruefully. "This right pin surely ain't good for a twelve-mile +tramp."</p> + +<p>It was during one of his frequent stops to rest that a buggy appeared +round the turn from the same direction he had come. It drew to a halt in +front of him, and the lad who was driving got out.</p> + +<p>"Señorita Maria sends a carriage for Señor Gordon to take him to +Corbett's," he said.</p> + +<p>Dick was on hand with a sardonic smile.</p> + +<p>"Tell the <i>señorita</i> that Mr. Gordon regrets having put her to so much +trouble, but that he needs the exercise and prefers to walk."</p> + +<p>"The <i>señorita</i> said I was to insist, <i>señor</i>."</p> + +<p>"Tell your mistress that I'm very much obliged to her, but have made +other arrangements. Explain to her I appreciate the offer just the +same."</p> + +<p>The lad hesitated, and Dick pushed him into decision.</p> + +<p>"That's all right, Juan—José—Pedro—Francisco—whatever your name is. +You've done your levelest. Now, hike back to the ranch. <i>Vamos! Sabe.</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>Si, señor.</i>"</p> + +<p>Dick heard the wheels disappear in the distance, and laughed aloud.</p> + +<p>"That young woman's conscience is hurting her. I reckon this tramp to +Corbett's is going to worry her tender heart about as much as it does +me, and I've got to sweat blood before I get through with it. Here goes +again, Dicky."</p> + +<p>Every step sent a pain shooting through him, but he was the last man to +give up on that account what he had undertaken.</p> + +<p>"She let me go without any lunch," he chuckled. "I'll bet that troubles +her some, too, when she remembers. She's got me out of the house, but +I'll bet the last strike in the Nancy K. against a dollar Mex that she +ain't got me out of her mind by a heap."</p> + +<p>A buggy appeared in sight driven by a stout, red-faced old man. +Evidently he was on his way to the ranch.</p> + +<p>"Who, hello, Doctor! I'm plumb glad to see you; couldn't wait till you +came, and had just to start out to meet you," cried Dick.</p> + +<p>He stood laughing at the amazement in the face of the doctor, who was in +two minds whether to get angry or not.</p> + +<p>"Doggone your hide, what are you doing here? Didn't I tell you not to +walk more than a few steps?" that gentleman protested.</p> + +<p>"But you didn't leave me a motor-car and, my visit being at an end, I +ce'tainly had to get back to Corbett's." As he spoke he climbed slowly +into the rig. "That leg of mine is acting like sixty, Doctor. When you +happened along I was wondering how in time I was ever going to make it."</p> + +<p>"You may have lamed yourself for life. It's the most idiotic thing I +ever heard of. I don't see why Miss Valdés let you come. Dad blame it, +have I got to watch my patients like a hen does its chicks? Ain't any of +you got a lick of sense? Why didn't she send a rig if you had to come?" +the doctor demanded.</p> + +<p>"Seems to me she did mention a rig, but I thought I'd rather walk," +explained Gordon casually, much amused at Dr. Watson's chagrined wonder.</p> + +<p>"Walk!" snorted the physician. "You'll not walk, but be carried into an +operating-room if you're not precious lucky. You deserve to lose that +leg, and I don't say you won't."</p> + +<p>"I'm an optimistic guy, Doctor. I'll say it for you. I ain't got any +legs to spare."</p> + +<p>"Huh! Some people haven't got the sense of a chicken with its head cut +off."</p> + +<p>"Now you're shouting. Go for me, Doc. Then, mebbe, I'll do better next +time."</p> + +<p>The doctor gave up this incorrigible patient and relapsed into silence, +from which he came occasionally with an explosive "Huh!" Once he broke +out with: "Didn't she feed you well enough, or was it just that you +didn't <i>know</i> when you were well off?"</p> + +<p>For he was aware that his patient's fever was rising and, like a good +practitioner, he fumed at such useless relapse.</p> + +<p>The knee had been doing fine. Now there would be the devil to pay with +it. The utter senselessness of the proceeding irritated Watson. What in +Mexico had got into the young idiot to make him do such a fool thing? +The doctor guessed at a quarrel between him and Miss Valdés. But the +close-mouthed American gave him no grounds upon which to base his +suspicion.</p> + +<p>The first thing that Dick did after reaching Corbett's was to send two +telegrams. One was addressed to Messrs. Hughes & Willets, 411-417 +Equitable Building, Denver, Colorado; the other went to Stephen Davis, +Cripple Creek, of the same state.</p> + +<p>Doctor Watson hustled his patient to bed and did his best to relieve the +increasing pain in the swollen knee. He swore gently and sputtered and +fumed as he worked, restraining himself only when Mrs. Corbett came into +the room with hot water, towels, compresses, and other supplies.</p> + +<p>"What about a nurse?" Watson wanted to know of Mrs. Corbett, a large +motherly woman whose kind heart always found room in it for the weak and +helpless.</p> + +<p>"I got no room for one. Juanita and I will take care of him. The work's +slack now. We'll have time."</p> + +<p>"He's going to take a heap of nursing," the doctor answered, rubbing his +unshaven chin dubiously with the palm of his hand. "See how the fever's +climbed up even in the last half hour. That boy's going to be a mighty +sick <i>hombre</i>."</p> + +<p>"I'm used to nursing, and Juanita is the best help I ever had, if she +<i>is</i> a Mexican. You may trust him to us."</p> + +<p>"Hmp! I wasn't thinking of him, but of you. Couldn't be in better hands, +but it's an imposition for him to go racing all over these hills with a +game leg and expect you to pull him through."</p> + +<p>Before midnight Dick was in a raging fever. In delirium he tossed from +side to side, sometimes silent for long stretches, then babbling +fragments of forgotten scenes rescued by his memory automatically from +the wild and picturesque past of the man. Now he fancied himself again a +schoolboy, now a ranger in Arizona, now mushing on the snow trails of +Alaska. At times he would imagine that he was defending his mine against +attacking strikers, or that he was combing the Rincons for horse +thieves. Out of his turbid past flared for an instant dramatic moments +of comedy or tragedy. These passed like the scenes of a motion-picture +story, giving place to something else.</p> + +<p>In the end he came back always to the adventure he was still living.</p> + +<p>"You're a spy.... You're a liar and a cheat.... You imposed yourself +upon my hospitality under false pretenses.... I hate myself for +breathing the same air as you." He would break off to laugh foolishly, +in a high-pitched note of derision at himself. "Stand up, Dick Gordon, +and hear the lady tell you what a coyote you are. Stan' up and face the +music, you quitter. Liar ... spy ... cheat! That's you, Dick Gordon, +un'erstand?"</p> + +<p>Or the sick mind of the man would forget for the moment that they had +quarreled. His tongue would run over conversations that they had had, +cherishing and repeating over and over again her gay little quips and +sallies or her light phrases.</p> + +<p>"Valencia Valdés is as God made her. Now you're throwing sixes, ma'am. +Sure she's like that. The devil helped a heap to make most of us what we +are, but I reckon God made that little lady early in the mo'ning when He +was feeling fine.... Say, I wish you'd look at me like that again and +light up with another of them dimply smiles. I got a surprise for you, +Princess of the Rio Chama. Honest, I have. Sure as you're a foot +high.... Never you mind what it is. Just you wait a while and I'll +spring it when the time's good and ready. I got to wait till the papers +come. See? ... Oh, shucks, you're sore at me again! Liar ... cheat ... +spy! Say, I know when I've had a-plenty. She don't like me. I'm goin' to +pull my freight for the Kotzebue country up in Alaska.<br /></p> + +<div><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">'<i>On the road to Kotzebue, optimistic through and through,</i><br /></span> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>We'll hit the trail together, boy, once more, jest me an' you</i>.'<br /></span> +</div> + +<p><br />Funny how women act, ain't it? Stand up and take your medicine—liar ... +cheat ... spy! She said it, didn't she? Well, then, it must be so. What +you kickin' about?"</p> + +<p>So he would run on until the fever had for the hour exhausted itself and +he lay still among the pillows. Sometimes he talked the strong language +of the man in battle with other men, but even in his oaths there was +nothing of vulgarity.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Corbett took the bulk of the nursing on her own broad fat +shoulders, but during the day she was often relieved by her maid while +she got a few hours of sleep.</p> + +<p>Juanita was a slim, straight girl not yet nineteen. Even before his +sickness Dick, with the instinct for deference to all women of +self-respect that obtains among frontiersmen, had won the gratitude of +the shy creature. There was something wild and sylvan about her sweet +grace. The deep, soft eyes in the brown oval face were as appealing as +those of a doe wounded by the hunter.</p> + +<p>She developed into a famous nurse. Low-voiced and soft-footed, she would +coax the delirious man to lie down when he grew excited or to take his +medicine according to the orders of the doctor.</p> + +<p>It was on the third day after Gordon's return to Corbett's that Juanita +heard a whistle while she was washing dishes after supper in the +kitchen. Presently she slipped out of the back door and took the trail +to the corral. A man moved forward out of the gloom to meet her.</p> + +<p>"Is it you, Pablo?"</p> + +<p>A slender youth, lean-flanked and broad-shouldered, her visitor turned +out to be. His outstretched hands went forward swiftly to meet hers.</p> + +<p>"Juanita, light of my life?" he cried softly. "<i>Corazon mia!</i>"</p> + +<p>She submitted with a little reluctant protest to his caress. "I have but +a minute, Pablo. The <i>señora</i> wants to walk over to Dolan's place. I am +to stay with the sick American."</p> + +<p>He exploded with low, fierce energy. "A thousand curses take the gringo! +Why should you nurse him? Is he not an enemy to the <i>señorita</i>—to all +in the valley who have bought from her or her father or her grandfather? +Is he not here to throw us out—a thief, a spy, a snake in the grass?"</p> + +<p>"No, he is not. <i>Señor</i> Gordon is good ... and kind."</p> + +<p>"Bah! You are but a girl. He gives you soft words—and so——" The +jealousy in him flared suddenly out. He caught his sweetheart tightly by +the arm. "Has he made love to you, this gringo? Has he whispered soft, +false lies in your ear, Juanita? If he has——"</p> + +<p>She tried to twist free from him. "You are hurting my arm, Pablo," the +girl cried.</p> + +<p>"It is my heart you hurt, <i>niña</i>. Is it true that this thief has stolen +the love of my Juanita?"</p> + +<p>"You are a fool, Pablo. He has never said a hundred words to me. All +through his sickness he has talked and talked—but it is of <i>Señorita</i> +Valdés that he has raved."</p> + +<p>"So. He will rob her of all she has and yet can talk of loving her. Do +you not see he is a villain, that he has the forked tongue, as old Bear +Paw, the Navajo, says of all gringoes? But let Señor Gordon beware. His +time is short. He will not live to drive us from the valley. So say I. +So say all the men in the valley."</p> + +<p>"No—no! I will not have it, Pablo. You do not know. This <i>Señor</i> Gordon +is good. He would not drive us away." Her arms slid around the neck of +her lover and she pleaded with him impetuously. "You must not let them +hurt him, for it is a kind heart he has."</p> + +<p>"Why should I interfere? He is only a gringo. Let him die. I tell you he +means harm to all of us."</p> + +<p>"I do not know my Pablo when he talks like this. My Pablo was always +kind and good and of a soft heart. I do not love him when he is cruel."</p> + +<p>"It is then that you love the American," he cried. "Did I not know it? +Did I not say so?"</p> + +<p>"You say much that is foolish, <i>muchacho</i>. The American is a stranger to +me ... and you are Pablo. But how can I love you when your heart is full +of cruelty and jealousy and revenge? Go to the Blessed Virgin and +confess before the good priest your sins, <i>amigo</i>."</p> + +<p>"<i>Amigo!</i> Since when have I been friend to you and not lover, Juanita? I +know well for how long—since this gringo with the white face crossed +your trail."</p> + +<p>Suddenly she flung away from him. "<i>Muy bien!</i> You shall think as you +please. Adios, my friend with the head of a donkey! <i>Adios, icabron</i>!"</p> + +<p>She was gone, light as the wind, flying with swift feet down the trail +to the house. Sulkily he waited for her to come out again, but the girl +did not appear. He gave her a full half hour before he swung to the +saddle and turned the head of his pony toward the Valdés' hacienda. A +new and poignant bitterness surged in his heart. Had this stranger, who +was bringing trouble to the whole valley, come between him and little +Juanita, whom he had loved since they had been children? Had he stolen +her heart with his devilish wiles? The hard glitter in the black eyes of +the Mexican told that he would punish him if this were true.</p> + +<p>His younger brother Pedro took the horse from him as he rode into the +ranch plaza an hour later.</p> + +<p>"You are to go to the <i>señorita</i> at once and tell her how the gringo is, +Pablo." After a moment he added sullenly: "<i>Maldito</i>, how is the son of +a thief?"</p> + +<p>"Sick, Pedro, sick unto death. The devil, as you say, may take him yet +without any aid from us," answered Pablo Menendez brusquely.</p> + +<p>"Why does the <i>señorita</i> send you every day to find out how he is? Can +she not telephone? And why should she care what becomes of the traitor?" +demanded Pedro angrily.</p> + +<p>His brother shrugged. "How should I know?" He had troubles enough with +the fancies of another woman without bothering about those of the +<i>señorita</i>.</p> + +<p>Valencia Valdés was on the porch waiting for her messenger.</p> + +<p>"How is he, Pablo? Did you see the doctor and talk with him? What does +he say?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Si, señorita</i>. I saw Doctor Watson and he send you this letter. They +say the American is a sick man—oh, very, very sick!"</p> + +<p>The young woman dismissed him with a nod and hurried to her room. She +read the letter from the doctor and looked out of one of the deep adobe +windows into the starry night. It happened to be the same window from +which she had last seen him go hobbling down the road. She rose and put +out the light so that she could weep the more freely. It was hard for +her to say why her heart was so heavy. To herself she denied that she +cared for this jaunty debonair scoundrel. He was no doubt all she had +told him on that day when she had driven him away.</p> + +<p>Yes, but she had sent him to pain and illness ... perhaps to death. The +tears fell fast upon the white cheeks. Surely it was not her fault that +he had been so obstinate. Yet—down in the depth of her heart she knew +she loved the courage that had carried him with such sardonic derision +out upon the road for the long tramp that had so injured him. And there +was an inner citadel within her that refused to believe him the sneaking +pup she had accused him of being. No man with such honest eyes, who +stood so erect and graceful in the image of God, could be so +contemptible a cur. There was something fine about the spirit of the +man. She had sensed the kinship of it without being able to put a finger +exactly upon the quality she meant. He might be a sinner, but it was +hard to believe him a small and mean one. The dynamic spark of +self-respect burned too brightly in his soul for that.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI" />CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<div class="center">JUANITA<br /><br /></div> + + +<p>The fifth day marked the crisis of Gordon's illness. After that he began +slowly to mend.</p> + +<p>One morning he awoke to a realization that he had been very ill. His +body was still weak, but his mind was coherent again. A slender young +woman moved about the room setting things in order.</p> + +<p>"Aren't you Juanita?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Her heart gave a leap. This was the first time he had recognized her. +Sometimes in his delirium he had caught at her hand ind tried to kiss +it, but always under the impression that she was Miss Valdés.</p> + +<p>"<i>Si, señor</i>," she answered quietly.</p> + +<p>"I thought so." He added after a moment, with the childlike innocence a +sick person has upon first coming back to sanity: "There couldn't be two +girls as pretty as you in this end of the valley, could there?"</p> + +<p>Under her soft brown skin the color flooded Juanita's face. "I—I don't +know." She spoke in a flame of embarrassment, so abrupt had been his +compliment and so sincere.</p> + +<p>"I've been very sick, haven't I?"</p> + +<p>She nodded. "Oh, <i>señor</i>, we have been—what you call—worried."</p> + +<p>"Good of you, Juanita. Who has been taking care of me?"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Corbett."</p> + +<p>"And Juanita?"</p> + +<p>"Sometimes."</p> + +<p>"Ah! That's good of you, too, <i>amiga</i>."</p> + +<p>She recalled a phrase she had often heard an American rancher's daughter +say. "I loved to do it, <i>señor</i>."</p> + +<p>"But why? I'm your enemy, you know. You ought to hate me. Do you?"</p> + +<p>Once again the swift color poured into the dark cheeks, even to the +round birdlike throat.</p> + +<p>"No, <i>señor</i>."</p> + +<p>He considered this an instant before he accused her whimsically. "Then +you're not a good girl. You should hate the devil, and I'm his agent. +Any of your friends will tell you that."</p> + +<p>"<i>Señor</i> Gordon is a joke."</p> + +<p>He laughed weakly. "Am I? I'll bet I am, the fool way I acted."</p> + +<p>"I mean a—what you call—a joker," she corrected.</p> + +<p>"But ain't I your enemy, my little good Samaritan? Isn't that what all +your people are saying?"</p> + +<p>"I not care what they say."</p> + +<p>"If I'm not your enemy, what am I?"</p> + +<p>She made a great pretense of filling the ewer with water and gathering +up the soiled towels.</p> + +<p>"How about that, <i>niña</i>?" he persisted, turning toward her on the pillow +with his unshaven face in his hand, a gentle quizzical smile in his +eyes.</p> + +<p>"I'm your ... servant, <i>señor</i>," she flamed, after the embarrassment of +silence had grown too great.</p> + +<p>"No, no! Nothing like that. What do you say? Will you take me for a +friend, even though I'm an enemy to the whole valley?"</p> + +<p>Her soft, dark eyes flashed to meet his, timidly and yet with an effect +of fine spirit.</p> + +<p>"<i>Si, señor</i>."</p> + +<p>"Good. Shake hands on it, little partner."</p> + +<p>She came forward reluctantly, as if she were pushed toward him by some +inner compulsion. Her shy embarrassment, together with the sweetness of +the glad emotion that trembled in her filmy eyes, lent her a rare charm.</p> + +<p>For just an instant her brown fingers touched his, then she turned and +fled from the room.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Corbett presently bustled in, fat, fifty, and friendly.</p> + +<p>"I can't hardly look you in the face," he apologized, with his most +winning smile. "I reckon I've been a nuisance a-plenty, getting sick on +your hands like a kid."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Corbett answered his smile as she arranged the coverlets.</p> + +<p>"You'll just have to be good for a spell to make up for it. No more +ten-mile walks, Mr. Muir, till the knee is all right."</p> + +<p>"I reckon you better call me Gordon, ma'am." His mind passed to what she +had said about his walk. "Ce'tainly that was a fool <i>pasear</i> for a man +to take. Comes of being pig-headed, Mrs. Corbett. And Doc Watson had +told me not to use that game leg much. But, of course, I knew best," he +sighed ruefully.</p> + +<p>"Well, you've had your lesson. And you've worried all of us. Miss Valdés +has called up two or three times a day on the phone and sent a messenger +over every evening to find out how you were."</p> + +<p>Dick felt the blood flush his face. "She has?" Then, after a little: +"That's very kind of Miss Valdés."</p> + +<p>"Yes. Everybody has been kind. Mr. Pesquiera has called up every day to +inquire about you. He has been very anxious for you to recover."</p> + +<p>A faint sardonic smile touched the white lips. "A fellow never knows how +many friends he has till he needs them. So Don Manuel is in a hurry to +have me get on my feet. That's surely right kind of him."</p> + +<p>He thought he could guess why that proud and passionate son of Spain +fretted to see him ill. The humiliation to which he had been subjected +was rankling in his heart and would oppress him till he could wipe it +out in action.</p> + +<p>"You've got other friends, too, that have worried a lot," said Mrs. +Corbett, as she took up some knitting.</p> + +<p>"More friends yet? Say, ain't I rich? I didn't know how blamed popular I +was till now," returned the invalid, with derisive irony. "Who is it +this time I've got to be grateful for?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Davis."</p> + +<p>"Steve Davis—from Cripple Creek, Colorado, God's Country?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Been writing about me, has he?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Corbett smiled. She had something up her sleeve. "First writing, +then wiring."</p> + +<p>"He's a kind of second dad to me. Expect the old rooster got anxious."</p> + +<p>"Looks that way. Anyhow, he reached here last night."</p> + +<p>Gordon got up on an elbow in his excitement. "Here? Here now? Old +Steve?"</p> + +<p>She nodded her head and looked over her shoulder toward the dining-room. +"In there eating his breakfast. He'll be through pretty soon. You see, +he doesn't know you're awake."</p> + +<p>Presently Davis came into the room. He walked to the bed and took both +of his friend's hands in his. Tears were shining in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"You darned old son-of-a-gun, what do you mean by scaring us like this? +I've lost two years' growth on account of your foolishness, boy."</p> + +<p>"Did Mrs. Corbett send for you?"</p> + +<p>"No, I sent for myself soon as I found out how sick you was. Now hustle +up and get well."</p> + +<p>"I'm going to do just that"</p> + +<p>Dick kept his word. Within a few days he was promoted to a rocking-chair +on the porch. Here Juanita served his meals and waited on his demands +with the shy devotion that characterized a change in her attitude to +him. She laughed less than she did. His jokes, his claim upon her as his +"little partner," his friendly gratitude, all served to embarrass her, +and at the same time to fill her with a new and wonderful delight.</p> + +<p>A week ago, when he had been lying before her asleep one day, she had +run her little finger through one of his tawny curls and admired its +crisp thickness. To her maiden fancy something of his strong virility +had escaped even to this wayward little lock of hair. She had wondered +then how the <i>Señorita</i> Valdés could keep from loving this splendid +fellow if he cared for her. All the more she wondered now, for her +truant heart was going out to him with the swift ardent passion of her +race. It was as a sort of god she looked upon him, as a hero of romance +far above her humble hopes. She found herself longing for chances to +wait upon him, to do little services that would draw the approving smile +to his eyes.</p> + +<p>Gordon was still in the porch-dwelling stage of convalescence when a +Mexican rider swung from his saddle one afternoon with a letter from +Manuel Pesquiera. The note was a formal one, written in the third +person, and it wasted no words.</p> + +<p>After reading it Dick tossed the sheet of engraved stationery across to +his companion.</p> + +<p>"Nothing like having good, anxious friends in a hurry to have you well, +Steve," he said, with a smile.</p> + +<p>The old miner read the communication. "Well, what's the matter with his +hoping you'll be all right soon?"</p> + +<p>"No reason why he shouldn't. It only shows what a Christian, forgiving +disposition he's got. You see, that day I most walked my leg off I +soused Mr. Pesquiera in a ditch."</p> + +<p>"You—what?"</p> + +<p>"Just what I say. I picked him up and dropped the gentleman in the +nearest ditch. That's why he's so anxious to get me well."</p> + +<p>"But—why for, boy?"</p> + +<p>Dick laughed. "Can't you see, you old moss-back? He wants me well enough +to call out for a duel."</p> + +<p>"A duel." Davis stared at him dubiously. He did not know whether or not +his friend was making game of him.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. Pistols and coffee for two, waiter. That sort of thing."</p> + +<p>"But folks don't fight duels nowadays," remonstrated the puzzled miner. +"Anyhow, what's he want to fight about? I reckon you didn't duck him for +nothing, did you? What was it all about?"</p> + +<p>Dick told his tale of adventures, omitting only certain emotions that +were his private property. He concluded with an account of the +irrigating-ditch episode. "It ain't the custom in this part of the +country to duck the blue bloods. Shouldn't wonder but what he's some hot +under the collar. Writes like he sees red, don't you think, but aims to +be polite and keep his shirt on."</p> + +<p>Davis refused to treat the matter as a joke.</p> + +<p>"I told you to let your lawyers 'tend to this, Dick, and for you not to +poke your nose into this neck of the woods. But you had to come, and +right hot off the reel you hand one to this Pesky fellow, or whatever +you call him. Didn't I tell you that you can't bat these greasers over +the head the way you can the Poles in the mines?"</p> + +<p>"Sure you told me. You're always loaded with good advice, Steve. But +what do you expect me to do when a fellow slaps my face?"</p> + +<p>"They won't stand fooling with, these greasers. This Pesky fellow is +playing squarer than most would if he gives you warning to be ready with +your six-gun. You take my advice, and you'll burn the wind out of this +country. If you git this fellow, the whole pack of them will be on top +of you, and don't you forget it, son."</p> + +<p>"So you advise me to cut and run, do you?" said Dick.</p> + +<p>"You bet."</p> + +<p>"That's what you'd do, is it?"</p> + +<p>"Sure thing. You can't clean out the whole of New Mexico."</p> + +<p>"Quit your lying, Steve, you old war-horse. You'd see it out, just like +I'm going to."</p> + +<p>Davis scratched his grizzled poll and grinned, but continued to dispense +good advice.</p> + +<p>"You ain't aiming to mix with this whole blamed country, are you?"</p> + +<p>The man in the chair sat up, his lean jaw set and his eyes gleaming.</p> + +<p>"I've been called the scum o' the earth. I've been kicked out of her +house as a fellow not decent enough to mix with honest folks. Only +yesterday I got a letter from some of her people warning me to leave the +country while I was still alive. This Pesquiera is camping on my trail."</p> + +<p>"Maybe he ain't. You've only guessed that."</p> + +<p>"Guess nothing. It's a cinch."</p> + +<p>"What you going to do about it?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing."</p> + +<p>"But if he lays for you."</p> + +<p>"Good enough. Let him go to it. I'm going through with this thing. I'm +going to show them who's the best man. And when I've beat them to a +standstill I've got a revenge ready that will make Miss Valdés eat +humble pie proper. Yes, sir. I'm tied to this country till this thing's +settled."</p> + +<p>"Then there ain't any use saying any more about it. You always was a +willful son-of-a-gun," testified his partner, with a grin. "And I reckon +I'll have to stay with you to pack you home after the greasers have shot +you up."</p> + +<p>"Don't you ever think it, Steve," came back the cheerful retort. "I've +got a hunch this is my lucky game. I'm sitting in to win, old hoss."</p> + +<p>"What's your first play, Dick?"</p> + +<p>"I made it last week, within twenty minutes of the time I got back here. +Wired my lawyers to bring suit at once, and to push it for all it was +worth."</p> + +<p>"You can't settle it by the courts inside of a year, or mebbe two."</p> + +<p>"I ain't aiming to settle it by the courts. All I want is they should +know I've got them beat to a fare-ye-well in the courts. Their lawyers +will let them know that mighty early, just as soon as they look the +facts up. There ain't any manner of doubt about my legal claim. I guess +Miss Valdés knows that already, but I want her to know it good and sure. +Then I'll paddle my own canoe. The law's only a bluff to make my hand +better. I'm calling for that extra card for the looks of it, but my hand +is full up without it"</p> + +<p>"What's in your hand, anyhow, outside of your legal right? Looks to me +they hold them all from ace down."</p> + +<p>Dick laughed.</p> + +<p>"You wait and see," he said.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII" />CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<div class="center">TWO MESSAGES<br /><br /></div> + + +<p>Because Dick had always lived a clean, outdoor life he rallied +magnificently from the relapse into which his indiscretion had thrown +him. For a few days Dr. Watson was worried by reason of the danger of +blood-poisoning, but the splendid vitality of his patient quickly swept +him out of danger. Soon he was hobbling round with a cane, and shortly +after was able to take long rides over the country with his friend.</p> + +<p>On one of these occasions, while they were climbing a hill trail, Davis +broke a long silence to say aloud to himself: "There's just one way to +account for it."</p> + +<p>"Then it can't be a woman you're thinking of," Dick laughed; "for as far +as I can make out there's always several ways to account for them, and +the one you guess usually ain't right."</p> + +<p>"You've said it, son. It's a woman. I been doing some inquiring about +this Miss Valdés, and from all telling she's the prettiest ever."</p> + +<p>"I could have told you that. It ain't a secret."</p> + +<p>"I notice you didn't tell me."</p> + +<p>"You didn't ask, you old geezer."</p> + +<p>"Sho! You ain't such a clam when it comes to pretty girls. You didn't +talk about her, because your haid's been full of her. It don't take a +mind-reader to know that."</p> + +<p>"You're ce'tainly a wizard, Steve," came back his partner dryly.</p> + +<p>"I know you and your little ways by this time."</p> + +<p>"So I'm in love, am I?"</p> + +<p>"You're there, or traveling there mighty fast. Course I don't know about +the lady."</p> + +<p>"What don't you know about her?" asked Dick, who was by way of being +both amused and pleased that the subject had been broached.</p> + +<p>"How she feels about the proposition. She had you kicked out of the +house. That looks kinder as if your show was slim. She did send over +right often to see how you was getting along, but I reckon she didn't +want to feel responsible for your turning up your toes. Women are that +way, even when they hate a man real thorough."</p> + +<p>"You're quite an expert. I wonder you know so much about them, and you +never married."</p> + +<p>To this sarcastic reminder Steve made philosophic reply. "Mebbe it was +because I knew so much about them I never married."</p> + +<p>"You're surely a wise old rooster. You think she hates me, then?"</p> + +<p>Davis covered a grin. He knew from his friend's tone that the barb had +pierced the skin.</p> + +<p>"Well, looking at it like a reasonable man, there ain't any question +about it. Soon as you begin to mend she quits taking any interest in +you; don't know you're on the earth any more. A reasonable man——"</p> + +<p>"A reasonable goat!" Dick reined up till the other horse was abreast of +his, then dived into his pocket and handed Steve a letter. "She's quit +taking any interest in me, has she? Don't know I'm on the earth, you old +owl? Looks like it, and her sending me a letter this very day."</p> + +<p>Steve turned the square envelope around and weighed it in his hand.</p> + +<p>"Am I to read this here <i>billy doo</i>?" he wanted to know.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>Gravely the old miner opened and read the following:<br /></p> + +<blockquote><div><br />"Miss Valdés begs to inform Mr. Gordon that she has reason to fear +Mr. Gordon's life is not safe in the present feeling of the +country. Out of regard for her people, whom she would greatly +regret to see in trouble, Miss Valdés would recommend Mr. Gordon to +cut short his pleasure trip to New Mexico. Otherwise Miss Valdés +declines any responsibility for the result."<br /></div></blockquote> + +<p><br />"Can't be called very affectionate, can it?" was Mr. Davis's comment. +"Ain't it jest a leetle mite—well, like she was writing with a poker +down her back?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't say it was affectionate," snorted the young man.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I allowed you thought she was in love with you."</p> + +<p>"I didn't say or think anything of the kind," protested Dick +indignantly. "I said she hadn't forgotten me."</p> + +<p>"Well, she ain't, if that's any comfort."</p> + +<p>With which, Mr. Davis handed back the letter. "What did you answer to +the <i>billy doo</i>?"</p> + +<p>"I said that Mr. Gordon presented his compliments and begged to reply +that he had large business interests in this part of the country that +necessitated a visit of some length, and probably in the end a permanent +residence here; and that he would very fully absolve Miss Valdés of any +responsibility for his remaining."</p> + +<p>"Both of you used up a heap of dictionary words; but that wasn't so bad, +either," grinned Steve. "You got back at her, all right, for the +'pleasure trip' part of her letter, but I expect you and she would +disagree as to what that 'permanent residence' means. I hope it won't be +more permanent than you think."</p> + +<p>From the rocks above came the sound of an exploding rifle. Dick's hat +was lifted from his head as by a gust of wind. Immediately after they +caught sight of a slim, boyish figure dodging among the rocks.</p> + +<p>"There he goes," cried Dick; and he slid from his saddle and took up the +chase.</p> + +<p>"Come back. There may be several of them up there," called the old +miner.</p> + +<p>Gordon paid no attention; and Steve had nothing left to do but follow +him up the rocky hillside.</p> + +<p>"He'll spoil that game leg of his again, first thing he knows," the +old-timer growled as he followed in the rear.</p> + +<p>Presently a second shot rang out. Davis hastened forward as fast as he +could.</p> + +<p>At the top of the ridge he came on his companion sitting behind a rock.</p> + +<p>"Lost him in these rocks, did you?" he asked.</p> + +<p>A sardonic smile lit up the face of his friend.</p> + +<p>"No, Steve, I found him; but he persuaded me I oughtn't to travel so +fast on this leg. You see, he had a rifle, and my six-gun was +outclassed. I couldn't get into range, and decided to hunt cover, after +he took another crack at me."</p> + +<p>"I should think you'd know better than to go hunting bear with a +twenty-two."</p> + +<p>"It ain't a twenty-two; but, for a fact, it don't carry a mile. I got +what I want, though. I know who the gentleman is."</p> + +<p>"Sure it wasn't a lady, Dick?"</p> + +<p>"Don't you, Steve," warned Gordon. "She's a lady and a Christian. You +wouldn't say that if you knew her. Besides, she saved my life."</p> + +<p>"Who was it? That Pesky fellow?"</p> + +<p>"No. He's hot-blooded; but he wouldn't strike below the belt. He's a +gentleman. This was one of the lads on her home-place, an +eighteen-year-old boy named Pedro. He's in love with her. I saw it soon +as I set eyes on him the day I went there. He worships her as if she +were a saint. Of course, he loves her without any hope; but that doesn't +keep him from being jealous of me. He's heard about the row, and he +thinks he'll do her a service by putting me out of the game."</p> + +<p>"Sort of fix you up with that permanent residence you were talking +about," suggested Steve.</p> + +<p>"He didn't make good this time, anyhow. I'll bet a hat he'd catch it if +Miss Valdés knew what he had been doing."</p> + +<p>"She may be a Christian and all you say, Dick, but she don't run a +Sunday school on her ranch and train these young greasers proper. I +don't like this ambushing. They might git the wrong man."</p> + +<p>"I'm not partial to it, myself. That lead pill hummed awful close to +me."</p> + +<p>They had by this time returned to the road, and Dick picked up his hat +from the dust. There were two little round holes in the crown, and one +in the brim.</p> + +<p>"If he had shot an inch lower I would have qualified for that permanent +residence, Steve," Dick laughed.</p> + +<p>"Hmp! Let's get out of here <i>pronto</i>, Dick. I'm darned if I like to be +the target at a shooting gallery. And next time I go riding there's +going to be a good old Winchester lying over my saddle-horn."</p> + +<p>Now, as very chance would have it, Miss Valdés, too, rode the hill trail +that afternoon; and every step of the broncos lessened the distance +between them.</p> + +<p>They met at a turn of the steep path. Davis was in the lead, and the +girl passed him just in time to meet Dick's bow. It was a very +respectful bow; but there was a humorous irony in the gray eyes that met +hers, which hinted at a different story. She made as if to pass him, +but, on an impulse, reined in. His ventilated hat came off again, as he +waited for her to speak.</p> + +<p>For an instant she let her gaze rest in his, the subdued crimson of her +cheeks triumphant over the olive. But the color was not of +embarrassment, and in her eyes shone the spirit of a descendant of old +Don Alvaro de Valdés y Castillo. She sat her mount superbly; as jimp and +erect as a willow sapling.</p> + +<p>"You received a message from me this morning, sir," she said haughtily.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Valdés; I received a message from you this morning and +answered it. This afternoon I received one from one of your friends; but +I haven't answered that yet."</p> + +<p>As he spoke he let his eyes fall upon the hat in his hand.</p> + +<p>Hers followed his, and she started in spite of herself.</p> + +<p>"Did—did—were you shot at?" she asked, with dilating eyes.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well! He didn't hit me. It's not worth mentioning."</p> + +<p>"Not worth mentioning? Who did it, sir? I demand to know who did it?"</p> + +<p>He hesitated as he picked his words.</p> + +<p>"You see—well—he was behind a rock, and not very close, at that."</p> + +<p>"But you knew him. I demand his name. He shall be punished. I myself +will see to that."</p> + +<p>"I'll do what punishing needs to be done, Miss Valdés. Much obliged to +you, just the same."</p> + +<p>Her eyes flashed.</p> + +<p>"You forget, sir, that they are my people. I gave orders—the very +strictest orders. I told them that, no matter what you did or how far +you went, you were not to be molested."</p> + +<p>"How far I went? You've been served with a legal notice, then? I thought +you must have by this time."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, I have. But neither on that nor any other subject do I desire +any conversation with you."</p> + +<p>"Of course not, me being a spy and all those other things you +mentioned," he said quietly.</p> + +<p>"I stopped to tell you only one thing. You must leave this country. +Prosecute your suit from a distance. My people are wrought up. You see +for yourself now." Her gauntlet indicated the hat.</p> + +<p>"They do seem to be enthusiastic about hating me," he agreed pleasantly. +"I suppose I'm not what you would call popular here."</p> + +<p>She gave a gesture of annoyance.</p> + +<p>"Can't you understand that this is no time for flippancy? Can't you make +him see it, sir?" she called to Davis.</p> + +<p>That gentleman shook his head.</p> + +<p>"He'll go his own way, I expect. He always was that bull-headed."</p> + +<p>"Firm—I call it," smiled Gordon.</p> + +<p>"I ask you to remember that he has had his warning," the girl called to +Steve.</p> + +<p>"I've had several," acknowledged Dick, his eyes again on the hat. "There +won't be anybody to blame but myself."</p> + +<p>"You know who shot at you. I saw it in your face. Tell me, and I will +see that he is punished," she urged.</p> + +<p>Dick shook his head imperturbably.</p> + +<p>"No; I reckon that wouldn't do. I'm playing a lone hand. You're on the +other side. How can I come and ask you to fight my battles for me? That +wouldn't be playing the game. I'll attend to the young man that mistook +me for a rabbit."</p> + +<p>"Very well. As you like. But you are quite mistaken if you think I asked +on your account. He had disobeyed my orders, and he deserved to pay for +it. I have no further interest in the matter."</p> + +<p>"Certainly. I understand that. What interest could Miss Valdés have in a +spy and a cheat?" he drawled negligently.</p> + +<p>The young woman flushed, made as if to speak, then turned away abruptly.</p> + +<p>She touched her pony with the spur, and as it took the outside of the +slanting, narrow trail, its hoof slipped on loose gravel and went over +the edge. Dick's arm went out like a streak of lightning and caught the +rein.</p> + +<p>For an instant the issue hung in doubt whether he could hold the bronco +and save her a nasty fall. The taut muscles of his lean arm and body +grew rigid with the strain before the animal found its feet and the +path.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," the young woman said quietly, and at once disengaged the +rein from his fingers by a turn of the pony's head.</p> + +<p>Yet a moment, and she had disappeared round a bend in the trail. Gordon +had observed with satisfaction that there had been no sign of fear in +her eyes at the danger she faced, no screaming or wild clutching at his +arm for help. Her word of thanks to him had been as cool and low as the +rest of her talk.</p> + +<p>"She's that game. Ain't she a thoroughbred, Steve?" demanded Dick, with +deep delight in his fair foe.</p> + +<p>"You bet she is. It's a shame for you to be annoying her this way. Why +don't you come to an agreement with her?"</p> + +<p>"She ain't ready for that yet. When the time comes I'll dictate the +terms of the treaty. Don't you think it's about time for us to be +heading back home?"</p> + +<p>"Then we'll meet your lady of the ranch quicker, won't we?" chuckled +Davis. "Funny you didn't think about going back till after she had +passed."</p> + +<p>But if Dick had hoped to see her again he was disappointed for that day, +at least. They reached Corbett's with never another glimpse of her; nor +was there any sign of her horse in front of the post office and general +store.</p> + +<p>"Must have taken that lower trail that leads back to the ranch," +hazarded Gordon.</p> + +<p>"I reckon," agreed his friend. "Seems funny, too; her knowing you was on +the upper one."</p> + +<p>"Guy me all you like. I can stand it," returned Dick cheerfully.</p> + +<p>For he had scored once in spite of her. He had saved her from a fall, at +a place where, to say the least, it would have been dangerous. She had +announced herself indifferent to his existence; but the very fact that +she had felt called upon to say so gave denial to the statement. She +might hate him, and she probably did; at least, she had him on her mind +a good deal. The young man was sure of that. He was shrewdly of opinion +that his chances were better if she hated him than if she never thought +of him at all.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII" />CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<div class="center">TAMING AN OUTLAW<br /><br /></div> + + +<p>"Something doing back of the corral, Mr. Gordon."</p> + +<p>Yeager, the horse-wrangler at Corbett's, stopped in front of the porch, +and jerked his head, with a twisted grin, in the direction indicated.</p> + +<p>Everything about the little stableman was crooked. From the slope of his +legs to the set of his bullet head on the narrow shoulders, he was awry. +But he had an instinct about horses that was worth more than the beauty +of any slim, tanned <i>vaquero</i> of the lot.</p> + +<p>Only one horse had he failed to subdue. That was Teddy, a rakish sorrel +that had never yet been ridden. Many had tried it, but none had stuck to +the saddle to the finish; and some had been carried from the corral to +the hospital.</p> + +<p>Dick got up and strolled back, with his hands in his pockets.</p> + +<p>A dozen <i>vaqueros</i> and loungers sat and stood around the mouth of the +corral, from which a slim young Mexican was leading the sorrel.</p> + +<p>"So, it's you, Master Pedro," thought the young American. "I didn't +expect to see you here."</p> + +<p>The lad met his eyes quietly as he passed, giving him a sullen nod of +greeting; evidently he hoped he had not been recognized as the previous +day's ambusher.</p> + +<p>"Is Pedro going to ride the outcast?" Dick asked of Yeager, in surprise.</p> + +<p>Yeager grinned.</p> + +<p>"He's going to try. The boy's slap-up rider, but he ain't got it in him +to break Teddy—no, nor any man in New Mexico ain't."</p> + +<p>Dick looked the horse over carefully, as it stood there while the boy +tightened the girths—feet wide apart, small head low, and red eyes +gleaming wickedly. Deep-chested, with mighty shoulders, barrel-bodied +like an Indian pony, Teddy showed power in every line of him. It was +easy to guess him for the unbroken outlaw he was.</p> + +<p>There was a swift scatter backward of the onlookers as Pedro swung to +the saddle. Before his right foot was in the stirrup, the bronco bucked.</p> + +<p>The young Mexican, light and graceful, settled to the saddle with a +delighted laugh, and drove the spurs home. The animal humped like a +camel, head and tail down, went into the air and back to earth, with +four feet set like pile-drivers. It was a shock to drive a man's spine +together like a concertina; but Pedro took it limply, giving to the jar +of the impact as the pony came down again and again.</p> + +<p>Teddy tasted the quirt along his quarters, and the pain made him +frantic. He went screaming straight into the air, hung there a long +instant, and fell over backward. The lad was out of the saddle in time +and no more, and back in his seat before the outlaw had scrambled to his +feet.</p> + +<p>The spur starred him to renewed life. Like a flash of lightning, the +brute's head swung round and snapped at the boy's leg. Pedro wrenched +the head back in time to save himself; and Teddy went to sun-fishing, +and presently to fence-rowing.</p> + +<p>The dust flew in clouds. It wrapped them in so that the boy saw nothing +but the wicked ears in front of him. His throat became a lime-kiln, his +eyes stared like those of a man weary from long wakefulness. The hot sun +baked his bare neck and head, the while Teddy rocketed into the sky and +pounded into the earth.</p> + +<p>Neither rider nor mount had mercy. The quirt went back and forth like a +piston-rod, and the outlaw, in screaming fury, leaped and tossed like a +small boat in a tremendous sea of cross-currents.</p> + +<p>"It's sure hell-for-leather. That hawss can tie himself in more knots +than any that was ever foaled," commented a tobacco-chewing puncher in a +scarlet kerchief.</p> + +<p>"Pedro is a straight-up rider, but he ain't got it in him to master +Teddy—no; nor no man ain't," contributed Yeager again proudly. "Hawsses +is like men. Some of 'em can't be broke; you can only kill them. Teddy's +one of them kind."</p> + +<p>Dick differed, but did not say so.</p> + +<p>"Look at him now. There he goes weaving. That hawss is a devil, I tell +you. He's got every hawss-trick there is, and all of 'em worked up to a +combination of his own. Look out there, Ped."</p> + +<p>The warning came too late. Teddy had jammed into the corral fence, and +ground his rider's knee till the torture of the pain had distracted his +attention. Once more then swept round the ugly stub nose, and the yellow +teeth fastened in the leather chaps with a vicious snap that did not +entirely miss the flesh of the leg.</p> + +<p>The boy, with a cry of pain and terror, slipped to the ground, his nerve +completely shaken. The sorrel lashed out with his hind feet, and missed +his head by a hairbreadth. Pedro turned to run, stumbled, and went down.</p> + +<p>The outlaw was upon him like a streak, striking with sharp chiseled +forefeet at the prostrate man. Along the line of spectators ran a groan, +a kind of sobbing murmur of despair. A young Mexican who had just ridden +up flung himself from his horse and ran forward, though he knew he was +too late.</p> + +<p>"Pedro's done for," cried one.</p> + +<p>And so he would have been but for the watchfulness and alertness of one +man.</p> + +<p>Dick had been ready the instant the outlaw had flung against the fence. +He had been prepared to see the boy weaken, and had anticipated it in +his forward leap. The furious animal had risen to drive home his hoofs, +when an arm shot out, caught the bridle, and dragged him sideways. This +unexpected intervention dazed the animal; and while he still stood +uncertain, Gordon swung to the saddle and dug his heels into the +bleeding sides.</p> + +<p>As to a signal the bronco rose, and the battle was on again.</p> + +<p>But this time the victory was not in doubt to the onlookers after the +first half-dozen jumps. For this man rode like a master. He held a close +but easy seat, and a firm rein, along which ran the message of an iron +will to the sensitive foaming mouth which held the bit tight-clamped.</p> + +<p>This brown, lithe man was all bone and sinew and muscle. He rode like a +Centaur, as if he were a part of the horse, as easily and gracefully as +a chip does the waves. The outlaw was furious with hate, blind with a +madness that surged through it; but all its weaving and fence-rowing +could not shake the perfect poise of the rider, nor tinge with fear the +glad fighting edge that throbbed like a trumpet-call in the blood.</p> + +<p>Slowly the certainty of this sifted to the animal. The pitches grew less +volcanic, died presently into fitful mechanical rises and falls that +foretold the finish. Its spirit broken, with that terrible incubus of a +human clothes-pin still clamped to the saddle, Teddy gave up, and for +the first time hung his head in token of defeat.</p> + +<p>Dick tossed the bridle to Yeager and swung off.</p> + +<p>"There aren't any of them so bad, if a fellow will stay with them," he +said.</p> + +<p>"Where did you learn your riding, partner?" asked the puncher with the +scarlet kerchief knotted around his neck.</p> + +<p>"I used to ride for an outfit up in Wyoming," returned Dick.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'd like to ride for that outfit, if all the boys stick to the +saddle like you," returned the kerchiefed one.</p> + +<p>Gordon did not explain that he had been returned winner in more than one +bucking-bronco contest in the days when he rode the range.</p> + +<p>He was already sauntering toward the house.</p> + +<p>From a side porch Pedro, awaiting the arrival of a rig to take him back +to the ranch, sat with his bruised leg on a chair and watched the +approach of the stalwart figure that came as lightly as though it trod +on eggs. He had hobbled here and watched the other do easily what had +been beyond him.</p> + +<p>His heart was bitter with the sense of defeat, none the less because +this man whom he had lately tried to kill had just saved his life.</p> + +<p>"<i>Como</i>?" asked Dick, stopping in front of him to brush dust from his +trousers with a pocket-handkerchief.</p> + +<p>Pedro mumbled something. Under his olive skin the color burned. Tears of +mortification were in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"You saved my life, <i>señor</i>. Take it. It is yours," the boy cried.</p> + +<p>"What shall <i>I</i> do with it?"</p> + +<p>"I care not. Make an end of it, as on Tuesday I tried to make an end of +yours," cried the lad wildly.</p> + +<p>Gordon took off his hat and looked at the bullet holes casually.</p> + +<p>"You did not miss it very far, Pedro."</p> + +<p>"You knew then, <i>señor</i>, that I was the man?" the Mexican asked in +surprise.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; I knew that."</p> + +<p>"And you did nothing?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I ducked behind a rock," laughed Gordon.</p> + +<p>"But you make no move to arrest me?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"But, if I should shoot again?"</p> + +<p>"I expect to carry a rifle next time I go riding, Pedro."</p> + +<p>The Mexican considered this.</p> + +<p>"You are a brave man, <i>señor</i>."</p> + +<p>The Anglo-Saxon snorted scornfully.</p> + +<p>"Because I ain't bluffed out by a kid that needs a horse-whip laid on +good and hard? Don't you make any mistake, boy. I'm going to give you +the licking of your young life. You were due for it to-day, but it will +have to be postponed, I reckon, till you're on your feet again."</p> + +<p>Pedro's eyes glittered dangerously.</p> + +<p>"Señor Gordon has saved my life. It is his. But no living man lays hands +on Pedro Menendez," the boy said, drawing himself haughtily to his full +slender height.</p> + +<p>"You'll learn better, Pedro, before the week's out. You've got to stand +the gaff, just the same as a white boy would. You're in for a good +whaling, and there ain't any use getting heroic about it."</p> + +<p>"I think not, Señor Gordon." There was a suggestion of repressed emotion +in the voice.</p> + +<p>Dick turned sharply at the words. A lean, clean-built young fellow stood +beside the porch. He stepped up lightly, so that he was behind the chair +in which Pedro had been sitting. Seen side by side thus, there could be +no mistaking the kinship between the two Mexicans. Both were good +looking, both lean and muscular, both had a sort of banked volcanic +passion in their black eyes. Dangerous men, these slim swarthy youths, +judged Gordon with a sure instinct.</p> + +<p>"You think not, Pedro Number 2," retorted the American lightly.</p> + +<p>"My name is Pablo, Señor—Pablo Menendez," corrected the young man with +dignity.</p> + +<p>"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Menendez. I was just telling your brother—if +Pedro is your brother—that I intend to wear out a buggy whip on him as +soon as his leg is well," explained Dick pleasantly.</p> + +<p>"No. You have saved his life. It is yours. Take it." The black eyes of +the Mexican met steadily the blue-gray ones of the American.</p> + +<p>"Much obliged, but I can't use it. As soon as I've tanned his hide I'm +through with Master Pedro," returned the miner carelessly.</p> + +<p>He was turning away when Pablo stopped him. The musical voice was low +and clear. "Señor Gordon understands then. Pedro will pay. He will +endure shot for shot if the Señor wishes it. But no man living shall lay +a whip upon him."</p> + +<p>Gordon shrugged his shoulders. "We shall see, my friend. The first time +I meet him after his leg is all right Master Pedro gets the licking he +needs."</p> + +<p>"You are warned, <i>señor</i>."</p> + +<p>Dick nodded and walked away, humming a song lightly.</p> + +<p>The black eyes of the Mexicans followed him as long as he was in sight. +A passionate hatred burned in those of the elder brother. Those of Pedro +were full of a wistful misery. With all his heart he admired this man +whom he had yesterday tried to kill, who had to-day saved his life, and +in the next breath promised him a thrashing.</p> + +<p>He gave him a grudging hero-worship, even while he hated him; for the +man trod the world with the splendor of a young god, and yet was an +enemy of the young mistress to whom he owed his full devotion. Pedro's +mind was made up.</p> + +<p>If this Gordon laid a whip on him, he would drive a knife into his +heart.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX" />CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<div class="center">OF DON MANUEL AND MOONLIGHT<br /><br /></div> + + +<p>Don Manuel sat curled up in one of the deep window-seats of the living +room at the Valdés home, and lifted his clear tenor softly in an old +Spanish love-song to the accompaniment of the strumming of a guitar.</p> + +<p>It is possible that the young Spaniard sang the serenade impersonally, +as much to the elderly duenna who slumbered placidly on the other side +of the fireplace as to his lovely young hostess. But his eyes told +another story. They strayed continuously toward that slim, gracious +figure sitting in the fireglow with a piece of embroidery in the long +fingers.</p> + +<p>He could look at her the more ardently because she was not looking at +him. The fringes of her lids were downcast to the dusky cheeks, the +better to examine the work upon which she was engaged.</p> + +<p>Don Manuel felt the hour propitious. It was impossible for him not to +feel that in the past weeks somehow he had lost touch with her. +Something had come between them; some new interest that threatened his +influence.</p> + +<p>But to-night he had again woven the spell of romance around her. As she +sat there, a sweet shadowy form touched to indistinctness by the soft +dusk, he knew her gallant heart had gone with him in the Castilian +battle song he had sung, had remained with him in the transition to the +more tender note of love.</p> + +<p>He rose, thumbed a chord or two, then set his guitar down softly. For a +time he looked out into the valley swimming in a silvery light, and +under its spell the longing in him came to words.</p> + +<p>"It is a night of nights, my cousin. Is it not that a house is a prison +in such an hour? Let us forth."</p> + +<p>So forth they fared to the porch, and from the porch to the sentinel +rock which rose like a needle from the summit of a neighboring hill. +Across the sea of silver they looked to the violet mountains, soft and +featureless in the lowered lights of evening, and both of them felt it +earth's hour of supreme beauty.</p> + +<p>"It is good to live—and to know this," she said at last softly.</p> + +<p>"It is good to live and, best of all, to know you," he made answer +slowly.</p> + +<p>She did not turn from the hills, made no slightest sign that she had +heard; but to herself she was saving: "It has come."</p> + +<p>While he pleaded his cause passionately, with all the ardor of +hot-blooded Spain, the girl heard only with her ears. She was searching +her heart for the answer to the question she asked of it:</p> + +<p>"<i>Is this the man?</i>"</p> + +<p>A month ago she might have found her answer easier; but she felt that in +some subtle, intangible way she was not the same girl as the Valencia +Valdés she had known then. Something new had come into her life; +something that at times exalted her and seemed to make life's currents +sweep with more abandon.</p> + +<p>She was at a loss to know what it meant; but, though she would not +confess it even to herself, she was aware that the American was the +stimulating cause. He was her enemy, and she detested him; and, in the +same breath with which she would tell herself this, would come that warm +beat of exultant blood she had never known till lately.</p> + +<p>With all his ardor, Don Manuel never quickened her pulses. She liked +him, understood him, appreciated his value. He was certainly very +handsome, and, without doubt, a brave, courteous gentleman of her own +set with whom she ought to be happy if she loved him. Ah! If she knew +what love were.</p> + +<p>So, when the torrent of Pesquiera's speech was for the moment dammed, +she could only say:</p> + +<p>"I don't know, Manuel."</p> + +<p>Confidently he explained away her uncertainty:</p> + +<p>"A maiden's love is retiring, shy, like the first flowers of the spring. +She doubts it, fears it, hides it, my beloved, like——"</p> + +<p>He was just swimming into his vocal stride when she cut him short +decisively:</p> + +<p>"It isn't that way with me, Manuel. I should tell you if I knew. Tell me +what love is, my cousin, and I may find an answer."</p> + +<p>He was off again in another lover's rhapsody. This time there was a +smile almost of amusement in her eyes as she listened.</p> + +<p>"If it is like that, I don't think I love you, Manuel. I don't think +poetry about you, and I don't dream about you. Life isn't a desert when +you are away, though I like having you here. I don't believe I care for +you that way, not if love is what the poets and my cousin Manuel say it +is."</p> + +<p>Her eyes had been fixed absently now and again on an approaching wagon. +It passed on the road below them, and she saw, as she looked down, that +her <i>vaquero</i> Pedro lay in the bottom of it upon some hay.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter? Are you hurt?" she called down.</p> + +<p>The lad who was driving looked up, and flashed a row of white teeth in a +smile of reassurance to his mistress.</p> + +<p>"It is Pedro, <i>doña</i>. He tried to ride that horse Teddy, and it threw +him. Before it could kill him, the <i>Americano</i> jumped in and saved his +life."</p> + +<p>"What American?" she asked quickly: but already she knew by the swift +beating of her heart.</p> + +<p>"Señor Muir; the devil fly away with him," replied the boy loyally.</p> + +<p>Already his mistress was descending toward him with her sure stride, Don +Manuel and his suit forgotten in the interest of this new development of +the feud. She made the boy go over the tale minutely, asking questions +sometimes when she wanted fuller details.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Manuel Pesquiera waited, fuming. Most certainly this fellow +Gordon was very much in the way. Jealousy began to add its sting to the +other reasons good for hastening his revenge.</p> + +<p>When Valencia turned again to her cousin her eyes were starry.</p> + +<p>"He is brave—this man. Is he not?" she cried.</p> + +<p>It happened that Don Manuel, too, was a rider in a thousand. He thought +that Fate had been unkind to refuse him this chance his enemy had found. +But Pesquiera was a gentleman, and his answer came ungrudgingly:</p> + +<p>"My cousin, he is a hero—as I told you before."</p> + +<p>"But you think him base," she cried quickly.</p> + +<p>"I let the facts speak for me," he shrugged.</p> + +<p>"Do they condemn him—absolutely? I think not."</p> + +<p>She was a creature of impulse, too fine of spirit to be controlled by +the caution of speech that convention demands. She would do justice to +her foe, no matter how Manuel interpreted it.</p> + +<p>What the young man did think was that she was the most adorable and +desirable of earth's dwellers, the woman he must win at all hazards.</p> + +<p>"He came here a spy, under a false name. Surely you do not forget that, +Valencia," he said.</p> + +<p>"I do not forget, either, that we flung his explanations in his face; +refused him the common justice of a hearing. Had we given him a chance, +all might have been well."</p> + +<p>"My cousin is generous," Manuel smiled bitterly.</p> + +<p>"I would be just."</p> + +<p>"Be both, my beloved, to poor Manuel Pesquiera, an unhappy wreck on the +ocean of love, seeking in vain for the harbor."</p> + +<p>"There are many harbors, Manuel, for the brave sailor. If one is closed, +another is open. He hoists sail, and beats across the main to another +port."</p> + +<p>"For some. But there are others who will to one port or none. I am of +those."</p> + +<p>When she left him it was with the feeling that Don Manuel would be hard +hit, if she found herself unable to respond to his love.</p> + +<p>He was not like this American, competent, energetic, full of the +turbulent life of a new nation which turns easily from defeat to fresh +victory.</p> + +<p>Her heart was full of sympathy, and even pity, for him. But these are +only akin to love.</p> + +<p>It was not long before Valencia began to suspect that she had not been +told the whole truth about the affair of the outlaw horse. There was +some air of mystery, of expectation, among her <i>vaqueros</i>.</p> + +<p>At her approach, conversation became suspended, and perceptibly shifted +to other topics. Moreover, Pedro was troubled in his mind, out of all +proportion to the extent of his wound.</p> + +<p>She knew it would be no use to question him; but she made occasion soon +to send for Juan Gardiez, the lad who had driven him home.</p> + +<p>From the doorway of the living-room, Juan presently ducked a bow at her.</p> + +<p>"The <i>señorita</i> sent for me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Come in, Juan. Take that chair."</p> + +<p>Now, though Juan had often sat down in the kitchen, he had never before +been invited to seat himself in this room. Wherefore, the warm smile +that now met him, and went with the invitation, filled him with a more +than mild surprise. Gingerly he perched himself on the edge of a chair, +twirling his dusty sombrero round and round as a relief to his +embarrassment.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry, Juan, that you don't like me or trust me any longer," his +mistress began.</p> + +<p>"But, <i>doña</i>, I do," exclaimed the boy, nearly falling from his chair in +amazement.</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>"No; I can see you don't. None of you do. You keep secrets from me. You +whisper and hide things."</p> + +<p>"But, no, <i>señorita</i>——"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I can see it plainly. My people do not love me. I must go away +from them, since——"</p> + +<p>Juan, having in his tender boyish heart a great love for his <i>doña</i>, +could not stand this.</p> + +<p>"No, no, no, <i>señorita</i>! It is not so. I do assure you it is a mistake. +There is nothing about the cattle, nothing about the sheep you do not +know. It is all told—all."</p> + +<p>"<i>Muy bien</i>. Yet you conceal what happened yesterday to Pedro."</p> + +<p>"He was thrown——"</p> + +<p>She stopped him with a gesture.</p> + +<p>"I don't want to know that again. Tell me what is in the air; what is +planned for Señor Gordon; what Pedro has to do with it? Tell me, or +leave me to know my people no longer love me."</p> + +<p>The boy shook his head and let his eyes fall before her clear gaze.</p> + +<p>"I can tell nothing."</p> + +<p>"Look at me, Juan," she commanded, and waited till he obeyed. "Pedro it +was that shot at this man Gordon. Is it not so?"</p> + +<p>His eyes grew wide.</p> + +<p>"Some one has told?" he said questioningly.</p> + +<p>"No matter. It was he. Yesterday the American saved his life. Surely +Pedro does not still——"</p> + +<p>She did not finish in words, but her eyes chiseled into his stolid will +to keep silent.</p> + +<p>"The stranger invites evil. He would rob the <i>señorita</i> and us all. He +has said he would horsewhip Pedro. He rides up and down the valley, +taunting us with his laugh. Is he a god, and are we slaves?"</p> + +<p>"He said he would horsewhip Pedro, did he?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Si señorita</i>; when Pedro told him to take his life, since it was his."</p> + +<p>"And this was after Pedro had been thrown?"</p> + +<p>"Directly after. The American is a devil, <i>doña</i>. He rode that +man-killer like Satan. Did he not already know that it was Pedro who +shot at him? Is not Pedro a sure shot, and did he not miss twice? Twice, +<i>señorita</i>; which makes it certain that this <i>Señor</i> Gordon is a devil."</p> + +<p>"Don't talk nonsense, Juan. I want to know how he came to tell Pedro +that he would whip him."</p> + +<p>"He came up to the piazza when he had broken the heart of that other +devil, the man-killer, and Pedro was sitting there. Then Pedro told him +that he was the one who had shot at him, but he only laughed. He always +laughs, this fiend. He knew it already, just as he knows everything. +Then it was he said he had saved the boy to whip him."</p> + +<p>"And that is all?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Por Dios</i>—all" shrugged the lad.</p> + +<p>"Are there others beside you that believe this nonsense about the +American being in league with evil?"</p> + +<p>"It is not nonsense, <i>señorita</i>, begging your pardon," protested Juan +earnestly. "And Ferdinand and Pablo and Sebastian, they all believe it."</p> + +<p>Valencia knew this complicated the situation. These simple peons would +do, under the impulsion of blind bigotry, what they would hesitate to do +otherwise. Let them think him a devil, and they would stick at nothing +to remove him.</p> + +<p>Her first thought was that she must keep informed of the movements of +her people. Otherwise she would not be able to frustrate them.</p> + +<p>"Juan, if this man is really what you think, he will work magic to +destroy those who oppose him. It will not be safe for any of my people +to set themselves against him. I know a better way to attack him. I want +to talk with Pablo and Sebastian. You must work with me. If they try to +do anything, let me know at once; otherwise they will be in great +danger. Do you understand?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Si, señorita</i>."</p> + +<p>"And will you let me know, quietly, without telling them?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Si, señorita</i>."</p> + +<p>"That is good. Now, I know my Juan trusts and loves his mistress. You +have done well. Go, now."</p> + +<p>From the point of view of her people the girl knew it was all settled. +If the stranger whipped Pedro, the boy would kill him unless he used +magic to prevent it. If he did use it, they must contrive to nullify his +magic. There was, too, Don Manuel, who would surely strike soon, and +however the encounter might terminate, it was a thing to dread +miserably.</p> + +<p>But, though her misery was acute, she was of a temperament too hopeful +and impulsive to give up to despair so long as action was possible. +While she did not yet know what she could do, she was not one to sit +idle while events hurried to a crisis.</p> + +<p>Meantime she had her majordomo order a horse saddled for her to ride +over to Corbett's for the mail.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X" />CHAPTER X</h2> + +<div class="center">MR. AINSA DELIVERS A MESSAGE<br /><br /></div> + + +<p>Back to Davis, who had stopped to tighten his saddle-girth, came Dick +Gordon's rather uncertain tenor in rollicking song:<br /></p> + +<div class="center"><br /><table width="350" summary=""> +<tr><td align="left">"Bloomin' idol made o' mud—</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Wot they called the Great Gawd Budd—</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Plucky lot she cared for idols when I</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Kissed 'er where she stud!"<br /></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p><br />"There he goes, advertising himself for a target to every greaser in the +county. Pity he can't ride along decent, if he's got to ride at all in +these hills, where every gulch may be a trap," grumbled the old miner.</p> + +<p><br />He jerked the leather strap down with a final tug, pulled himself to the +saddle, and cantered after his friend.<br /></p> + +<div class="center"><br /><table width="350" summary=""> +<tr><td align="left">"Elephints a pilin' teak</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">In the sludgy, squdgy creek,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Where the silence 'ung that 'eavy you</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Was 'arf afraid to speak!"</td></tr> +</table><br /></div> + +<p><br />"No danger of the silence hanging heavy here while you're around trying +to be a whole opery troupe all by your lonesome," suggested Davis. +"Seems to me if you got to trapse round this here country hunting for +that permanent residence, it ain't necessary to disturb the Sabbath calm +so on-feelin'. I don't seem to remember hearing any great demand for an +encore after the rendering of the first verse."</p> + +<p>"You do ce'tainly remind me of a lien with one chick, Steve," laughed +Dick.</p> + +<p>"I ain't worrying about you none. It's my own scalp kinder hangs loose +every time you make one of your fool-plays," explained the other.</p> + +<p>"Go pipe that up to your granny. Think I ain't learned my ABC's about +my dry-nurse yet?"</p> + +<p>"I'm going back to the gold camp to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"You been saying that ever since you came here. Why don't you go, old +Calamity Prophet?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I am. Going to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"You've hollered wolf too often, Steve. I'll believe it when I see it."</p> + +<p>"Well, why don't you behave? What's the use of making a holy Caruso of +yourself? Nobody ain't ever pined to hear you tune up, anyhow."</p> + +<p>"All right. Mum's the word, old hoss. I'll be as solemn as if I was +going to my own funeral."</p> + +<p>"I ain't persuaded yet you're not."</p> + +<p>"I'm right fully persuaded. Hallo! Stranger visiting at Corbett's. Guess +I'll unlimber the artillery."</p> + +<p>They dismounted, and, before turning over his horse to Yeager, Dick +unstrapped from the saddle his rifle. Nowadays he never for a moment was +separated from some weapon of defense. For he knew that an attack upon +his life was almost a certainty in the near future. Though his manner +was debonair, he saw to it that nobody got a chance to tamper with his +guns.</p> + +<p>"Make you acquainted with Mr. Ramon Ainsa, gentlemen. Mr. Gordon—Mr. +Davis," said Corbett, standing in the doorway in his shirt-sleeves.</p> + +<p>Mr. Ainsa, a very young man with the hint of a black mustache over his +boyish mouth, clicked his heels together and bowed deeply. He expressed +himself as delighted, but did not offer to shake hands. He was so stiff +that Dick wanted to ask him whether the poker he had swallowed was +indigestible.</p> + +<p>"I am the bearer of a message to Mr. Richard Muir Gordon," he said with +another bow.</p> + +<p>"My name," acknowledged its owner. "You ain't missed a letter of it. +Must have been at the christening, I expect."</p> + +<p>"A message from Don Manuel Pesquiera."</p> + +<p>"Good enough. That's right friendly of him. How's the <i>don</i>?"</p> + +<p>And Dick, the sparkle of malicious humor gleaming in his eye, shook Mr. +Ainsa warmly by the hand, in spite of that gentleman's effort to escape.</p> + +<p>The messenger sidestepped as soon as he could, and began again, very +red:</p> + +<p>"Don Manuel considers himself deeply insulted, and desires through me, +his friend, to present this note."</p> + +<p>Dick looked at the envelope, and back at the youth who had handed it to +him, after which he crowded in and pump-handled the other's arm again.</p> + +<p>"That's awfully good of him, Mr. 'Tain't-so."</p> + +<p>"My name is Ainsa, at your service," corrected the New Mexican.</p> + +<p>"Beg pardon—Ainsa. I expect I hadn't ought to have irrigated the <i>don</i> +so thorough, but it's real good of him to overlook it and write me a +friendly note. It's uncommon handsome of him after I disarranged his +laundry so abrupt."</p> + +<p>"If the <i>señor</i> will read the letter—" interrupted the envoy +desperately.</p> + +<p>"Certainly. But let me offer you something to drink first, Mr. +Ain't-so."</p> + +<p>"Ainsa."</p> + +<p>"Ainsa, I should say. A plain American has to go some to round up and +get the right brand on some of these blue-blooded names of yours. +What'll it be?"</p> + +<p>"Thank you. I am not thirsty. I prefer not." With which Mr. Ainsa +executed another bow.</p> + +<p>"Just as you say, colonel. But you'll let me know if you change your +mind."</p> + +<p>Dick indicated a chair to his visitor, and took another himself; then +leisurely opened the epistle and read it. After he had done so he handed +it to Davis.</p> + +<p>"This is for you, too, Steve. The <i>don</i> is awfully anxious to have you +meet Mr. Ainsa and have a talk with him," chuckled Gordon.</p> + +<p>"'To arrange a meeting with your friend,' Why, it's a duel he means, +Dick."</p> + +<p>"That's what I gathered. We're getting right up in society. A duel's +more etiquettish than bridge-whist, Steve. Ain't you honored, being +invited to one. You're to be my second, you see."</p> + +<p>"I'm hanged if I do," exploded the old miner promptly.</p> + +<p>"Sho! It ain't hard, when you learn the steps."</p> + +<p>"I ain't going to have nothing to do with it. Tommyrot! That's what I +call it."</p> + +<p>"Don't say it so loud, Steve, or you'll hurt Mr. Ainsa's feelings," +chided his partner.</p> + +<p>"Think I'm going to make a monkey of myself at my age?"</p> + +<p>Dick turned mournfully to the messenger of war.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid it's off, Mr. Ainsa. My second says he won't play."</p> + +<p>"We shall be very glad to furnish you a second, sir."</p> + +<p>"All right, and while you're at it furnish a principal, too. I'm an +American. I write my address Cripple Creek, Colorado, U.S.A. We don't +fight duels in my country any more. They've gone out with buckled shoes +and knee-pants, Mr. Ainsa."</p> + +<p>"Do I understand that Mr. Gordon declines to meet my friend on the field +of honor?"</p> + +<p>"That's the size of it."</p> + +<p>"I am then instruct' to warn you to go armed, as my friend will punish +your insolence at sight informally."</p> + +<p>It was just at this moment that Mrs. Corbett, flushed with the vain +chase of her fleeing brood of chickens, came perspiring round the house. +Her large, round person, not designed by nature for such arduous +exercise, showed signs of fatigue.</p> + +<p>"I declare, if them chickens ain't got out, and me wanting two for +supper," she panted, arms on her ample hips.</p> + +<p>"That's too bad. Let me chase them," volunteered Dick.</p> + +<p>He grasped his rifle, took a quick, careless aim, and fired. A +long-legged, flying cockerel keeled over and began to kick.</p> + +<p>"Gracious me!" ejaculated the woman.</p> + +<p>"Two, did you say?" asked the man behind the gun.</p> + +<p>"I said two."</p> + +<p>Again the rifle cracked. A second chicken flopped down, this one with +its head shot off at the neck.</p> + +<p>The eyes of the minister of war were large with amazement. The distance +had been seventy yards, if it had been a step. When little Jimmie +Corbett came running forward with the two dead cockerels a slight +examination showed that the first had also been shot through the neck.</p> + +<p>Dick smiled.</p> + +<p>"Shall I shoot another and send it for a present to Don Manuel, Jimmie?" +he pleasantly inquired.</p> + +<p>Mr. Ainsa met his persiflage promptly.</p> + +<p>"I do assure you, <i>señor</i>, it will not be at all necesair. Don Manuel +can shoot chickens for himself—and larger game."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure he'll find good hunting," the other gave him back, looking up +genially.</p> + +<p>"He is a good hunter, <i>señor</i>."</p> + +<p>"Don't doubt it a bit," granted the cordial Anglo-Saxon. "Trouble is +that even the best hunters can't tell whether they are going to bring +back the bear, or Mr. Bear is going to get them. That's what makes it +exciting, I reckon."</p> + +<p>"Is Don Manuel going bear-hunting?" asked Jimmie, with a newly aroused +boy interest.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Jimmie. One's been bothering him right considerable, and he's +going gunning for it," explained Dick.</p> + +<p>"Gee! I hope he gets it."</p> + +<p>"And I hope he don't," laughed Gordon. "Must you really be going, +colonel? Can't I do a thing for you in the refreshment line first? Well, +so long. Good hunting for your friend. See him later."</p> + +<p>Thus cheerfully did the irrepressible Gordon speed Mr. Ainsa on his way.</p> + +<p>That young man had somehow the sense of having been too youthful to cope +with the gay Gordon.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Valencia Valdés had not ridden far when she met Ramon Ainsa returning +from his mission. He was a sunny young fellow, whom she had known since +they had been children together.</p> + +<p>It occurred to her that he bore himself in a manner that suggested +something important on hand. His boyish mouth was set severely, and he +greeted her with a punctilio quite unusual. At once she jumped shrewdly +to a conclusion.</p> + +<p>"Did you bring our mail back with you from Corbett's?" she innocently +inquired.</p> + +<p>"Yes, <i>señorita</i>."</p> + +<p>"Since when have I been '<i>señorita</i>' to you, Ramon?"</p> + +<p>"Valencia, I should say." He blushed.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I should think so. It hasn't been so long since you called me +Val."</p> + +<p>"Ah! Those happy days!" he sighed.</p> + +<p>"Fiddlesticks!" she promptly retorted. "Don't be a goose. You're not in +the sere and yellow yet. Don't forget you'll not be twenty-one till next +month."</p> + +<p>"One counts time not by years, but by its fullness," he said, in the +manner of one who could tell volumes if he would.</p> + +<p>"I see. And what has been happening of such tremendous importance?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Ainsa attempted to twirl his mustache, and was as silent as honor +demanded.</p> + +<p>"Pooh! It's no secret. Did you find Mr. Gordon at home?"</p> + +<p>"At home?" he gasped.</p> + +<p>"Well, at Corbett's, then?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't know—— Who told you—er——"</p> + +<p>"I'm not blind and deaf and dumb, you know."</p> + +<p>"But you certainly have a great deal of imagination," he said, +recovering himself.</p> + +<p>"Not a bit of it. You carried a challenge to this American from Don +Manuel. Now, I want to know the answer."</p> + +<p>"Really, my dear girl——"</p> + +<p>"You needn't try to evade me. I'm going to know, if I stay here all +night."</p> + +<p>"It's a hold-up, as the Americans say," he joked.</p> + +<p>"I don't care what you call it. You have got to tell me, you know."</p> + +<p>"But I can't tell you, <i>niña</i>. It isn't mine to tell."</p> + +<p>"Anyhow, you can't keep me from guessing," she said, with an +inspiration.</p> + +<p>"No, I don't see how I can very well," he admitted.</p> + +<p>"The American accepted the challenge immediately."</p> + +<p>"But he didn't," broke out the young man.</p> + +<p>"Then he refused?"</p> + +<p>"That's a little obvious now," replied Ramon, with a touch of chagrin.</p> + +<p>"He was very angry about it, and threatened to call the law to his aid."</p> + +<p>Her friend surrendered at discretion, and broke into a laugh of delight.</p> + +<p>"I never saw such a fellow, Val. He seemed to think it was all a joke. +He must have known why I was there, but before I could get in a word he +got hold of my hand and shook it till I wanted to shriek with the pain. +He's got a grip like a bear. And he persisted in assuming we were the +best of friends. Wouldn't read the letter at all."</p> + +<p>"But after he did?"</p> + +<p>"Said duels were not fashionable among his people any more."</p> + +<p>"He is very sensible, but I'm afraid Manuel won't rest satisfied with +that," the girl sighed.</p> + +<p>"I hinted as much, and told him to go armed. What do you think the +madman did then?"</p> + +<p>"I can never guess."</p> + +<p>Ramon retailed the chicken-shooting episode.</p> + +<p>"You were to mention that to Manuel, I suppose?'" the girl said +thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"So I understood. He was giving fair warning."</p> + +<p>"But Manuel won't be warned."</p> + +<p>"When he hears of it he'll be more anxious than ever to fight."</p> + +<p>Valencia nodded. "A spur to a willing horse."</p> + +<p>"If he knew he would be killed it would make no difference to him. He is +quite fearless."</p> + +<p>"Quite."</p> + +<p>"But he is a very good shot, too. You do not need to be alarmed for +him."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! Not at all," the girl answered scornfully. "He is only my +distant cousin, anyhow—and my lover."</p> + +<p>"It is hard, Val. Perhaps I might pick a quarrel with this American +and——"</p> + +<p>She caught him up sharply, but he forgave it when he saw her white +misery.</p> + +<p>"Don't you dare think of it, Ramon Ainsa. One would think nobody in the +valley had any business except fighting with this man. What has he done +to you? Or to these others? You are very brave, all of you, when you +know you are a hundred to one. I suppose <i>you</i>, too, will want to shoot +him from ambush?"</p> + +<p>This bit of feminine injustice hurt the young man, but he only said +quietly:</p> + +<p>"No; I don't think I would do that."</p> + +<p>Impulsively she put out her hand.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, Ramon. I don't mean that, of course, but I'm nearly beside +myself. Why must all this bad will and bloodshed come into our happy +little valley? If we must have trouble why can't we let the law settle +it? I thought you were my friends—you and Manuel and my people—but +between you I am going to be made unhappy for life."</p> + +<p>She broke down suddenly and began to sob. The lad slipped to the ground +and went quickly to her, putting an arm around her waist across the +saddle.</p> + +<p>"Don't cry, Val. We all love you—of course we do. How can we help it? +It will all come right yet. Don't cry, <i>niña</i>"</p> + +<p>"How can it come right, with all of you working to make things wrong?" +she sobbed.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps the stranger will go away."</p> + +<p>"He won't. He is a man, and he won't let you drive him out."</p> + +<p>"We'll find some way, Val, to save Manuel for you."</p> + +<p>"But it isn't only Manuel. I don't want any of you hurt—you or +anybody—not even this Mr. Gordon. Oh, Ramon, help me to stop this +wicked business."</p> + +<p>"If you can tell me how."</p> + +<p>She dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief, as a sign that her weakness was +past.</p> + +<p>"We must find a way. Do you know, my own people are in a dangerous mood? +They think this man's some kind of a demon. I shall talk to them +to-night. And you must send Manuel to me. Perhaps he may listen to me."</p> + +<p>Ainsa agreed, though he felt sure that even she could not induce his +friend to withdraw from a position which he felt his honor called him to +take.</p> + +<p>Nor did the mistress of the valley find it easy to lead her tenants to +her way of thinking. They were respectful, outwardly acquiescent, but +the girl saw, with a sinking heart, that they remained of their own +opinion. Whether he were man or devil, they were determined to make an +end of Gordon's intrusion.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI" />CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<div class="center">THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY AND THE TWENTIETH<br /><br /></div> + + +<p>It was the second day after Pesquiera's challenge that his rival was +called to Santa Fé, the capital of the State, to hold a conference with +his lawyers about the progress of the suit of ouster against those +living on the Moreño grant. Gordon knew how acute was the feeling of the +residents of the valley against him. The Corbetts, whose homestead was +not included in either the original Valdés or Moreño grant, reported +daily to him whatever came to their ears. He could see that the +impression was strong among the Mexicans that their champion, Doña Maria +as they called her, would be worsted in the courts if the issue ever +came to final trial.</p> + +<p>To live under the constant menace of an attack from ambush is a strain +upon the best of nerves. Dick and his friend Davis rode out of the +valley to meet the Santa Fé stage with a very sensible relief. For a few +days, anyhow, they would be back where they could see the old Stars and +Stripes flutter, where feudal retainers and sprouts of Spanish +aristocracy were not lying in wait with fiery zeal to destroy the +American interloper.</p> + +<p>They reached the little city late, but soon after sunup Gordon rose, +took a bath, dressed, and strolled out into the quaint old town which +lays claim to being the earliest permanent European settlement in the +country. It was his first visit to the place, and as he poked his nose +into out of the way corners Dick found every step of his walk +interesting.</p> + +<p>Through narrow, twisted streets he sauntered, along unpaved roads +bounded by century-old adobe houses. His walk took him past the San +Miguel Church, said to be the oldest in America. A chubby-faced little +priest was watering some geraniums outside, and he showed Dick through +the mission, opening the door of the church with one of a bunch of large +keys which hung suspended from his girdle. The little man went through +the usual patter of the guide with the facility of long practice.</p> + +<p>The church was built, he said, in 1540, though Bandelier inaccurately +sets the date much later. The roof was destroyed by the Pueblo Indians +in 1680 during an attack upon the settlement, at which time the +inhabitants took refuge within the mission walls. These are from three +to five feet thick. The arrows of the natives poured through the +windows. The señor could still see the holes in the pictures, could he +not? Penuelo restored the church in 1710, as could be read by the +inscription carved upon the gallery beam. It would no doubt interest the +señor to know that one of the paintings was by Cimabue, done in 1287, +and that the seven hundred pound bell was cast in Spain during the year +1356 and had been dragged a thousand miles across the deserts of the new +world by the devoted pioneer priests who carried the Cross to the simple +natives of that region.</p> + +<p>Gordon went blinking out of the San Miguel mission into a world that +basked indolently in a pleasant glow of sunshine. It seemed to him that +here time had stood still. This impression remained with him during his +tramp back to the hotel. He passed trains of faggot-laden burros, driven +by Mexicans from Tesuque and by Indians from adjoining villages, the +little animals so packed around their bellies with firewood that they +reminded him of caricatures of beruffed Elizabethan dames of the olden +days.</p> + +<p>Surely this old town, which seemed to be lying in a peaceful siesta for +centuries unbroken, was an unusual survival from the buried yesterdays +of history. It was hard to believe, for instance, that the Governor's +Palace, a long one-story adobe structure stretching across one entire +side of the plaza, had been the active seat of so much turbulent and +tragic history, that for more than three hundred years it had been +occupied continuously by Spanish, Mexican, Indian, and American +governors. Its walls had echoed the noise of many a bloody siege and +hidden many an execution and assassination. From this building the old +Spanish cavaliers Onate and Vicente de Salivar and Penalosa set out on +their explorations. From it issued the order to execute forty-eight +Pueblo prisoners upon the plaza in front. Governor Armijo had here +penned his defiance to General Kearney, who shortly afterward nailed +upon the flagpole the Stars and Stripes. The famous novel "Ben Hur" was +written in one of these historic rooms.</p> + +<p>But the twentieth century had leaned across the bridge of time to shake +hands with the sixteenth. A new statehouse had been built after the +fashion of new Western commonwealths, and the old Palace was now given +over to curio stores and offices. Everywhere the new era compromised +with the old. He passed the office of the lawyer he had come to consult, +and upon one side of the sign ran the legend:<br /><br /><br /></p> + +<div class="center"><table cellpadding="20" border="2" summary=""> +<tr><td><div class="center">Despacho<br /> +de<br /> +Thomas M. Fitt, Licendiado.<br /></div></td> +</tr> +</table><br /><br /></div> + +<p>Upon the other he read an English translation:<br /><br /><br /></p> + +<div class="center"><table cellpadding="20" border="2" summary=""> +<tr><td><div class="center">Law Office<br /> +of<br /> +Thomas M. Fitt, Licendiado.<br /></div></td> +</tr> +</table><br /><br /></div> + +<p>Plainly the old civilization was beginning to disappear before an alert, +aggressive Americanism.</p> + +<p>At the hotel the modern spirit became so pronounced during breakfast, +owing to the conversation of a shoe and a dress-goods drummer at an +adjoining table, that Gordon's imagination escaped from the tramp of +Spanish mailclad cavalry and from thoughts of the plots and counterplots +that had been devised in the days before American occupancy.</p> + +<p>In the course of the morning Dick, together with Davis, called at the +office of his attorney. Thomas M. Fitt, a bustling little man with a +rather pompous manner, welcomed his client effusively. He had been +appointed local attorney in charge by Gordon's Denver lawyers, and he +was very eager to make the most of such advertising as his connection +with so prominent a case would bring.</p> + +<p>He washed the backs of his hands with the palms as he bowed his visitors +to chairs.</p> + +<p>"I may say that the case is progressing favorably—very favorably +indeed, Mr. Gordon. The papers have been drawn and filed. We await an +answer from the defendants. I anticipate that there will be only the +usual court delays in pressing the action."</p> + +<p>"We'll beat them, I suppose," Dick replied, with a manner almost of +indifference.</p> + +<p>"One can never be positive in advance, but I'd like to own your claim to +the estate, Mr. Gordon," laughed the lawyer wheezily.</p> + +<p>"Think we'll be able to wolf the real owners out of their property all +right, do you?"</p> + +<p>Fitt's smile went out like the flame of a burnt match. The wrinkles of +laughter were ironed out of his fat cheeks. He stared at his client in +surprise. It took him a moment to voice the dignified protest he felt +necessary.</p> + +<p>"Our title is good in law, Mr. Gordon. I have been over the evidence +very carefully. The court decisions all lean our way. Don Bartolomé +Valdés, the original grantee, failed to perfect his right of ownership +in many ways. It is very doubtful whether he himself had not before his +death abandoned his claim. His official acts appear to point to that +conclusion. Our case is a very substantial one—very substantial, +indeed."</p> + +<p>"The Valdés' tenants have settled on the land, grazed their flocks over +it, bought farms here and there from the heirs, haven't they?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly. But if the sellers cannot show a good title—and my word as a +lawyer for it they can't. Prove that in court and all we'll need is a +writ of ejectment against the present holders as squatters. Then——" +Fitt snapped his finger and thumb in an airy gesture that swept the +Valdés' faction into the middle of the Pacific.</p> + +<p>"It'll be the story of Evangeline all over again, won't it?" asked +Gordon satirically.</p> + +<p>"Ah! You have a kind heart, Mr. Gordon. Your sympathy does you credit. +Still—business is business, of course."</p> + +<p>"Of course," Dick picked up a pen and began to jab holes aimlessly into +a perfectly good blotter tacked to the table. "Well, let's hear the +story—just a sketch of it. Why do the rightful heirs lose out and the +villain gain possession?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Fitt smiled blandly. He had satisfied himself that his client was +good pay and he did not intend to take offense. "It pleases you to be +facetious, Mr. Gordon. But we all know that what this country +needs—what such a valley as the Rio Chama ought to have—is up to date +American development. People and conditions are in a primitive state. +When men like you get possession of the Moreño and similar tracts New +Mexico will move forward with giant strides to its great destiny. Time +does not stand still. The day of the indolent semi-feudal Spanish system +of occupancy has passed away. New Mexico will no longer remain <i>mañana</i> +land. You—and men like you—of broad ideas, progressive, energetic——"</p> + +<p>"Quite a philanthropist, ain't I?" interrupted Gordon, smiling lazily. +"Well, let's hear the yarn, Mr. Fitt."</p> + +<p>The attorney gave up his oration regretfully. He subsided into a chair +and resumed the conversational tone.</p> + +<p>"You've got to understand how things were here in the old Spanish days, +gentlemen. Don Bartolomé for instance was not merely a cattleman. He was +a grandee, a feudal lord, a military chief to all his tenants and +employees. His word was law. The power of life and death lay in him."</p> + +<p>Dick nodded. "Get you."</p> + +<p>"The old Don was pasturing his sheep in the Rio Chama valley and he had +started a little village there—called the place Torreon, I think, from +a high tower house he had built to overlook the valley so that Indians +could be seen if they attempted an attack. Well, he takes a notion that +he'd better get legal title to the land he was using, though in those +days he might have had half of New Mexico for his cattle and sheep as a +range. So he asks Facundo Megares, governor of the royal province, for a +grant of land. The governor, anxious to please him, orders the +constitutional alcalde, a person named José Garcia de la Mora, to +execute the act of possession to Valdés of a tract described as follows, +to wit——"</p> + +<p>"I've heard the description," cut in the young man. "Well, did the Don +take possession?"</p> + +<p>"We claim that he never did. He visited there, and his shepherds +undoubtedly ran sheep on the range covered by the grant. But Valdés and +his family never actually resided on the estate. Other points that +militate against the claim of his descendants may be noted. First, that +minor grants of land, taken from within the original Valdés grant, were +made by the governor without any protest on the part of the Don. Second, +that Don Bartolomé himself, subsequently Governor and Captain-General of +the province of New Mexico, did, in his official capacity as President +of the Council, endorse at least two other small grants of land cut out +from the heart of the Valdés estate. This goes to show that he did not +himself consider that he owned the land, or perhaps he felt that he had +forfeited his claim."</p> + +<p>"Or maybe it just showed that the old gentleman was no hog," suggested +Gordon.</p> + +<p>"I guess the law will construe it as a waiver of his claim. It doesn't +make any allowances for altruism."</p> + +<p>"I've noticed that," Gordon admitted dryly.</p> + +<p>"A new crowd of politicians got in after Mexico became independent of +Spain. The plums had to be handed out to the friends of the party in +power. So Manuel Armijo, the last Mexican Governor of the province, +being a favorite of the President of that country because he had +defeated some Texas Rangers in a battle, and on that account endowed +with extraordinary powers, carved a fat half million acres out of the +Valdés grant and made a present of it to José Moreño for 'services to +the government of Mexico.' That's where you come in as heir to your +grandfather, who purchased for a song the claim of Moreño's son."</p> + +<p>"My right has been lying dormant twenty-five years. Won't that affect +its legality?"</p> + +<p>"No. If we knock out the Valdés' grant, all we have to do is to prove +the legality of the Moreño one. It happens we have evidence to show that +he satisfied all legal requirements by living on the land more than four +years. This gave him patent in perpetuity subject to taxes. By the +payment of these we can claim title." Fitt rubbed his hands and walked +backward and forward briskly. "We've got them sewed up tight, Mr. +Gordon. The Supreme Court has sustained our contention in the almost +parallel Baca case."</p> + +<p>"Fine," said Dick moodily. He knew it was unreasonable for him to be +annoyed at his counsel because the latter happened to be an alert and +competent lawyer. But somehow all his sympathies were with Valencia +Valdés and her dependents.</p> + +<p>"If you'd like to look at the original documents in the case, Mr. +Gordon——"</p> + +<p>"I would."</p> + +<p>"I'll take you up to the State House this afternoon. You can look over +them at your leisure."</p> + +<p>Davis laughed at his friend as they walked back to the hotel.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe you know yourself what you want. You act as if you'd +rather lose than win the suit."</p> + +<p>"Sometimes I'm a white man, Steve. I don't want to grab other people's +property just because some one can dig up a piece of paper that says +it's mine. We sit back and roast the trusts to a fare-you-well for +hogging all there is in sight. That's what Fitt and his tribe expect me +to do. I'm damned if I will."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII" />CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<div class="center">"I BELIEVE YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH HER, TOO"<br /><br /></div> + + +<p>It was characteristic of Dick Gordon that he established at once a +little relation of friendliness between him and the young woman at the +State House who waited upon him with the documents in the Valdés grant +case. She was a tall, slight girl with amazingly vivid eyes set in a +face scarcely pretty. In her manner to the world at large there was an +indifference amounting almost to insolence. She had a way of looking at +people as if they were bits of the stage setting instead of individuals.</p> + +<p>A flare of interest had sparkled in her eyes when Gordon's fussy little +attorney had mentioned the name of his client, but it had been Dick's +genial manner of boyish comradeship that had really warmed Miss +Underwood to him. She did not like many people, but when she gave her +heart to a friend it was without stipulations. Dick was a man's man. +Essentially he was masculine, virile, dominant. But the force of him was +usually masked either by his gay impudence or his sunny friendliness. +Women were drawn to his flashing smile because they sensed the strength +behind it.</p> + +<p>Kate Underwood could have given a dozen reasons why she liked him. There +were for instance the superficial ones. She liked the way he tossed back +the tawny sun-kissed hair from his eyes, the easy pantherish stride with +which he covered ground so lightly, the set of his fine shoulders, the +peculiar tint of his lean, bronzed cheeks. His laugh was joyous as the +song of a bird in early spring. It made one want to shout with him. +Then, too, she tremendously admired his efficiency. To look at the hard, +clear eye, at the clean, well-packed build of the man, told the story. +The movements of his strong, brown hands were sure and economical. They +dissipated no energy. Every detail of his personality expressed a mind +that did its own thinking swiftly and incisively.</p> + +<p>"It's curious about these documents of the old Valdés and Moreño claims. +They have lain here in the vaults—that is, here and at the old +Governor's Palace—for twenty years and more untouched. Then all at once +twenty people get interested in them. Scarce a day passes that lawyers +are not up to look over some of the copies. You have certainly stirred +things up with your suit, Mr. Gordon."</p> + +<p>Dick looked out of the window at the white adobe-lined streets resting +in a placid coma of sun-beat.</p> + +<p>"Don't you reckon Santa Fé can stand a little stirring up, Miss +Underwood?"</p> + +<p>"Goodness, yes. We all get to be three hundred years old if we live in +this atmosphere long enough."</p> + +<p>The man's gaze shifted. "You'd have to live here a right long time, I +reckon."</p> + +<p>A quick slant of her gay eyes reproached him. "You don't have to be so +gallant, Mr. Gordon. The State pays me fifteen hundred dollars a year to +wait on you, anyhow."</p> + +<p>"You don't say. As much as that? My, we're liable to go bankrupt in New +Mexico, ain't we? And, if you want to know, I don't say nice things to +you because I have to, but because I want to."</p> + +<p>She laughed with a pretense at incredulity. "In another day or two I'll +find out just what special favor I'm able to do Mr. Gordon. The regular +thing is to bring flowers or candy, you know. Generally they say, too, +that there never has been a clerk holding this job as fit for it as I +am."</p> + +<p>"You're some clerk, all right. Say, where can I find the original of +this <i>Agua Caliente</i> grant, Miss Kate?"</p> + +<p>She smiled to herself as she went to get him a certified copy. "Only two +days, and he's using my first name. Inside of a week he'll be calling me +'Dearie,'" she thought. But she knew very well there was no danger. This +young fellow was the kind of man that could be informal without the +slightest idea of flirting or making love.</p> + +<p>Kate Underwood's interest in the fight between the claimants for the +Valdés and Moreño grants was not based entirely upon her liking for +Dick. He learned this the fourth day of his stay in Santa Fé.</p> + +<p>"Do you know that you were followed to the hotel last night, Mr. +Gordon?" she asked him, as soon as he arrived at the State House.</p> + +<p>His eyes met hers instantly. "Was I? How do you know?"</p> + +<p>"I left the building just after you did. Two Mexicans followed you. I +don't know when I first suspected it, but I trailed along to make sure. +There can be no doubt about it."</p> + +<p>"Not a bit of doubt. Found it out the first day when I left the hotel," +he told her cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"You knew it all the time," she cried, amazed.</p> + +<p>"That doesn't prevent me from being properly grateful to you for your +kindness," he hastened to say.</p> + +<p>"What are they following you for?" she wanted to know.</p> + +<p>Dick told her something of his experiences in the Rio Chama Valley +without mentioning that part of them which had to do with Miss Valdés. +At the sound of Manuel Pesquiera's name the eyes of the girl flashed. +Dick had already noticed that his name was always to her a signal for +repression of some emotion. The eyes contracted and hardened the least +in the world. Some men would not have noticed this, but more than once +Gordon's life had hung upon the right reading of such signs.</p> + +<p>"You think that Mr. Pesquiera has hired them to watch you?" she +suggested.</p> + +<p>"Maybe he has and maybe he hasn't. Some of those willing lads of Miss +Valdés don't need any hiring. They want to see what I'm up to. They're +not overlooking any bets."</p> + +<p>"But they may shoot you."</p> + +<p>He looked at her drolly. "They may, but I'll be there at the time. I'm +not sleeping on the job, Miss Kate."</p> + +<p>"You didn't turn around once yesterday."</p> + +<p>"Hmp! I saw them out of the edge of my eyes. And when I turned a corner +I always saw them mighty plain. They couldn't have come very close +without my knowing it."</p> + +<p>"Don Manuel is very anxious to have Miss Valdés win, isn't he?"</p> + +<p>Dick observed that just below the eyes two spots were burning in the +usually pale cheeks.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he answered simply.</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"He's her friend and a relative."</p> + +<p>It seemed to Gordon that there was a touch of defiance in the eyes that +held to his so steadily. She was going to find out the truth, no matter +what he thought.</p> + +<p>"Is that all—nothing more than a friend or a relative?"</p> + +<p>The miner's boyish laugh rippled out. "You'd ought to have been a +lawyer, Miss Kate. No, that ain't all Don Manuel doesn't make any secret +of it. I don't know why I should. He wants to be prince consort of the +Valdés kingdom."</p> + +<p>"Because of ... the estate?"</p> + +<p>"Lord, no! He's one man from the ground up, M. Pesquiera is. In spite of +the estates."</p> + +<p>"You mean that he ... loves Valencia Valdés?"</p> + +<p>"Sure he does. Manuel doesn't care much who gets the kingdom if he gets +the princess."</p> + +<p>"Is she so ... pretty?"</p> + +<p>Dick stopped to consider this. "Why, yes, I reckon she is pretty, though +I hadn't thought of it before. You see, pretty ain't just the word. +She's a queen. That is, she looks like a queen ought to but don't. Take +her walk for instance: she steps out like as if in another moment she +might fly."</p> + +<p>"That doesn't mean anything. It's almost silly," replied the downright +Miss Underwood, not without a tinge of spite.</p> + +<p>"It means something to me. I'm trying to give you a picture of her. But +you'd have to see her to understand. When she's around mean and little +things crawl out of your mind. She's on the level and square and fine—a +thoroughbred if there ever was one."</p> + +<p>"I believe you're in love with her, too."</p> + +<p>The young man found himself blushing. "Now don't get to imagining +foolishness. Miss Valdés hates the ground I walk on. She thinks I'm the +limit, and she hasn't forgotten to tell me so."</p> + +<p>"Which, of course, makes you fonder of her," scoffed Miss Underwood. +"Does she hate the ground that Don Manuel walks on?"</p> + +<p>"Now you've got me. I go to the foot of the class, because I don't +know."</p> + +<p>"But you wish you did," she flung at him, with a swift side glance.</p> + +<p>"Guessing again, Miss Kate. I'll sure report you if you waste the +State's time on such foolishness," he threatened gaily.</p> + +<p>"Since you're in love with her, why don't you marry Miss Valdés and +consolidate the two claims?" demanded the girl.</p> + +<p>Her chin was tilted impudently toward him, but Gordon guessed that there +was an undercurrent of meaning in her audacity.</p> + +<p>"What commission do you charge for running your matrimonial bureau?" he +asked innocently.</p> + +<p>"The service comes free to infants," she retorted sweetly.</p> + +<p>She was called away to attend to other business. An hour later she +passed the desk where he was working.</p> + +<p>"So you think I'm an infant at that game, do you?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings," was her saucy answer.</p> + +<p>"You haven't—not a mite. What about Don Manuel? Is he an infant at it, +too?"</p> + +<p>A sudden flame of color swept her face. The words she flung at Gordon +seemed irrelevant, but he did not think them so. "I hate him."</p> + +<p>And with that she was gone.</p> + +<p>Dick's eyes twinkled. He had discovered another reason for her interest +in his fortunes.</p> + +<p>Later in the day, when the pressure of work had relaxed, the clerk +drifted his way again while searching for some papers.</p> + +<p>"Your lawyers are paid to look up all this, aren't they? Why do you do +it, then?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"The case interests me. I want to know all about it."</p> + +<p>"Would you like to see the old Valdés house here in Santa Fé? My father +bought it when Alvaro Valdés built his new town house. One day I found +in the garret a bundle of old Spanish letters. They were written by old +Bartolomé to his son. I saved them. Would you care to see them?"</p> + +<p>"Very much. The old chap was a great character. I suppose he was really +the last of the great feudal barons. The French Revolution put an end to +them in Europe—that and the industrial revolution. It's rather amazing +that out here in the desert of this new land dedicated to democracy the +idea was transplanted and survived so long."</p> + +<p>"I'll bring the letters to-morrow and you can look them over. Any time +you like I'll show you over the house. It's really rather +interesting—much more so than their new one, which is so modern that it +looks like a thousand others. Valencia was born in the old house. What +will you give me to let you into the room?"</p> + +<p>He brushed aside her impudence with a laugh. "Your boss is looking this +way. I think he's getting ready to fire you."</p> + +<p>"He's more likely to be fired himself. I'm under civil service and he +isn't. Will you take your shoes off when you go into the holy of +holies?"</p> + +<p>"What happens to little girls when they ask too many questions? Go 'way. +I'm busy."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII" />CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<div class="center">AMBUSHED<br /><br /></div> + + +<p>On her return from luncheon that same afternoon Miss Underwood brought +Dick a bundle of letters tied with a ribbon. She tossed them down upon +the desk in front of him.</p> + +<p>"I haven't read them myself. Of course they're in Spanish. I did try to +get through one of them, but it was too much like work and I gave it up. +But since they're written by <i>her</i> grandfather they'll interest you more +than they did me," Miss Kate told him, with the saucy tilt to her chin +that usually accompanied her impudence.</p> + +<p>He had lived in Chihuahua three years as a mining engineer, so that he +spoke and read Spanish readily. The old Don wrote a stiff angular hand, +but as soon as he became accustomed to it Dick found little difficulty. +Some of the letters were written from the ranch, but most of them +carried the Santa Fé date line at the time the old gentleman was +governor of the royal province. They were addressed to his son Alvaro, +at that time a schoolboy in Mexico City. Clearly Don Bartolomé intended +his son to be informed as to the affairs of the province, for the +letters were a mine of information in regard to political and social +conditions. They discussed at length, too, the business interests of the +family and the welfare of the peons dependent upon it.</p> + +<p>All afternoon Gordon pored over these fascinating pages torn from a dead +and buried past. They were more interesting than any novel he had ever +read, for they gave him a photograph, as it were projected by his +imagination upon a moving picture canvas, of the old regime that had +been swept into the ash heap by modern civilization. The letters +revealed the old Don frankly. He was proud, imperious, heady, and +intrepid. To his inferiors he was curt but kind. They flocked to him +with their troubles and their quarrels. The judgment of their overlord +was final with his tenants. Clearly he had a strong sense of his +responsibilities to them and to the state. A quaint flavor of old-world +courtesy ran through the letters like a thread of gold.</p> + +<p>It was a paragraph from one of the last letters that riveted Dick's +attention. Translated into English, it ran as follows:<br /></p> + +<blockquote><div><br />"You ask, my dear son, whether I have relinquished the great grant +made us by Facundo Megares. In effect I have. During the past two +years I have twice, acting as governor, conveyed to settlers small +tracts from this grant. The conditions under which such a grant +must be held are too onerous. Moreover, neither I nor you, nor your +son, nor his son will live to see the day when there is not range +enough for all the cattle that can be brought into the province. +Just now time presses, but in a later letter I shall set forth my +reasons in detail."<br /></div></blockquote> + +<p><br />A second and a third time Dick read the paragraph to make sure that he +had not misunderstood it. The meaning was plain. There could be no doubt +about it. In black and white he had a statement from old Don Bartolomé +himself that he considered the grant no longer valid, that he had given +it up because he did not think it worth holding. He had but to prove the +handwriting in court—a thing easy enough to do, since the Don's bold, +stiff writing could be found on a hundred documents—and the Valdés +claimants would be thrown out of possession.</p> + +<p>Gordon looked in vain for the "later letter" to which Bartolomé +referred. Either it had never been written or it had been destroyed. But +without it he had enough to go on.</p> + +<p>Before he left the State House he made a proposal to Miss Underwood to +buy the letters from her.</p> + +<p>"What do you want with a bunch of old letters?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"One of them helps my case. The Don refers to the grant and says he has +relinquished his claim."</p> + +<p>She nodded at him with brisk approval. "It's fair of you to tell me +that." The girl stood for a moment considering, a pencil pressed against +her lips. "I suppose the letters are not mine to give. They belong to +father. Better see him."</p> + +<p>"Where?"</p> + +<p>"At the office of the <i>New Mexican</i>. Or you can come to the house +to-night."</p> + +<p>"Believe I'll see him right away."</p> + +<p>Within half an hour Dick had bought the bundle of letters for five +hundred dollars. He returned to the State House with an order to Kate +Underwood to deliver them to him upon demand.</p> + +<p>"Dad make a good bargain?" asked Miss Underwood, with a laugh.</p> + +<p>Gordon told her the price he had paid.</p> + +<p>"If I had telephoned to him what you wanted them for they would have +cost you three times as much," she told him, nodding sagely.</p> + +<p>"Then I'm glad you didn't. Point of fact you haven't the slightest idea +what I want with them."</p> + +<p>"To help your suit. Isn't that what you're going to use them for?"</p> + +<p>Mildly he answered "Yes," but he did not tell her which suit they were +to help.</p> + +<p>As he was leaving she spoke to him without looking up from her writing. +"Mother and I will be at home this evening, if you'd like to look the +house over."</p> + +<p>"Thanks. I'd be delighted to come. I'm really awfully interested."</p> + +<p>"I see you are," she answered dryly.</p> + +<p>Followed by his brown shadows at a respectful distance, Dick walked back +to the hotel whistling gaily.</p> + +<p>"Some one die and leave you a million dollars, son?" inquired the old +miner, with amiable sarcasm.</p> + +<p>"Me, I'm just happy because I'm not a Chink," explained his friend, and +passed to the hotel writing-room.</p> + +<p>He sat down, equipped himself with stationery, and selected a new point +for a pen. Half a dozen times he made a start and as often threw a +crumpled sheet into the waste-paper basket. It took him nearly an hour +to compose an epistle that suited him. What he had finally to content +himself with was as follows:<br /></p> + +<blockquote><div><br /> +"DEAR MADAM:—Please find inclosed a bundle of letters that +apparently belong to you. They have just come into my possession. I +therefore send them to you without delay. Your attention is +particularly called to the one marked 'Exhibit A.' +<div class="right"><br />"Very truly yours, + </div> +<div class="right">RICHARD MUIR GORDON."</div> +<br /></div></blockquote> + + +<p><br />He wrapped up the letters, including his own, sealed the package +carefully, and walked downtown to the post office. Here he wrote upon +the cover the name and address of Miss Valencia Valdés, then registered +the little parcel with a request for a signed receipt after delivery at +its destination.</p> + +<p>Davis noticed that at dinner his friend was more gay than usual.</p> + +<p>"You ce'tainly must have come into that million I mentioned, judging by +your actions," he insisted, with a smile.</p> + +<p>"Wrong guess, Steve. I've just been giving away a million. That's why +I'm hilarious."</p> + +<p>"You'll have to give me an easier one, son. Didn't know you had a +million."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well! A million, or a half, or a quarter, whatever the Moreño claim +is worth. I'm not counting nickels. An hour ago I had it in my fist. +I've just mailed it, very respectfully yours, to my friend the enemy." +"Suppose you talk simple American that your Uncle Steve can understand, +boy. What have you been up to?"</p> + +<p>Dick told him exultantly.</p> + +<p>"But, good Lord, why for did you make such a play? You had 'em where the +wool was short. Now you've let loose and you'll have to wait 'steen +years while the courts eat up all the profits. Of all the mule-headed +chumps——"</p> + +<p>"Hold your horses, Steve. I know what I'm doing. Said I was a spy and a +thief and a liar, didn't she? Threw the hot shot into me proper for a +cheap skate swindler, eh?" The young man laid down his knife, leaned +across the table, and wagged a forefinger at Davis. "What do you reckon +that young woman is going to think of herself when she opens that +registered package and finds the letter that would have put the rollers +under her claim <i>muy pronto?</i>"</p> + +<p>"Think! She'll think you the biggest burro that ever brayed on the San +Jacinto range. She'll have a commission appointed to examine you for +lunacy. What in Mexico is ailin' you, anyhow? You're sick. That's what's +wrong. Love-sick, by Moses!" exploded his friend.</p> + +<p>Dick smiled blandly. "You've got another guess coming, Steve. She's +going to eat dirt because she misjudged me so. She's going to lie awake +nights and figure what play she can make to get even again. Getting hold +of those blamed letters is the luckiest shot I've made yet. I was in +bad—darned bad. Explanations didn't go. I was just a plain ornery +skunk. Then I put over this grand-stand play and change the whole +situation. She's the one that's in bad now. Didn't she tell me right off +the bat what kind of a hairpin I was? Didn't she drive me off the ranch +with that game leg of mine all to the bad? Good enough. Now she finds +out I'm a white man she's going to be plumb sore at herself."</p> + +<p>"What good does that do you? You're making a fight for the Rio Chama +Valley, ain't you? Or are you just having a kid quarrel with a girl?"</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't take the Rio Chama Valley as a gift if I had to steal it +from Miss Valdés and her people. Ain't I making enough money up at +Cripple Creek for my needs? No, Steve! I'm playing for bigger game than +that. Size up my hand beside Don Manuel's, and it looks pretty bum. But +I'm going to play it strong. Maybe at the draw I'll fill."</p> + +<p>"Mebbe you won't."</p> + +<p>"I can bet it like I had an ace full, can't I? Anybody can play poker +when he's got a mitt full of big ones. Show me the man that can make two +pair back an all-blue hand off the map."</p> + +<p>"Go to it, you old sport. My money's on you," grinned the miner +admiringly. "I'll go order a wedding present."</p> + +<p>Through the pleasant coolness of the evening Dick sauntered along the +streets to the Underwood home, nor was his contentment lessened because +he knew that at a safe distance the brown shadows still dogged his +steps. In a scabbard fitted neatly beneath his left arm rested a good +friend that more than once had saved its owner's life. To the fraction +of a second Gordon knew just how long it would take him to get this into +action in case of need.</p> + +<p>Kate Underwood met him at the door and took her guest into the +living-room. Beside a student lamp a plump little old lady sat knitting. +Somehow even before her soft voice welcomed him the visitor knew that +her gentle presence diffused an atmosphere of home.</p> + +<p>"Thee is welcome, Mr. Gordon. Kate has been telling us of thee."</p> + +<p>The young man gave no evidence of surprise, but Kate explained as a +matter of course.</p> + +<p>"We are Friends, and at home we still use the old way of address."</p> + +<p>"I have very pleasant memories of the Friends. A good old lady who took +the place of my own mother was one. It is nice to hear the speech +again," answered Gordon.</p> + +<p>Presently the conversation drifted to the Valdés family. It appeared +that as children Kate and Valencia had known each other. The heiress of +the Valdés estates had been sent to Washington to school, and later had +attended college in the East. Since her return she had spent most of her +time in the valley. So that it happened the two young women had not met +for a good many years.</p> + +<p>It occurred to Dick that there was a certain aloofness in Miss +Underwood's attitude toward Valencia, a reticence that was not quite +unfriendliness but retained the right of criticism. She held her +judgment as it were in abeyance.</p> + +<p>While Miss Underwood was preparing some simple refreshments Gordon +learned from her mother that Manuel Pesquiera had been formerly a +frequent caller.</p> + +<p>"He has been so busy since he moved down to his place on the Rio Chama +that we see nothing of him," she explained placidly. "He is a fine type +of the best of the old Spanish families. Thee would find him a good +friend."</p> + +<p>"Or a good foe," the young man added.</p> + +<p>She conceded the point with a sigh. "Yes. He is testy. He has the old +patrician pride."</p> + +<p>After they had eaten cake and ice cream, Kate showed Gordon over the +house. It was built of adobe, and the window seats in the thick walls +were made comfortable with cushions or filled with potted plants. Navajo +rugs and Indian baskets lent the rooms the homey appearance such +furnishings always give in the old Southwest. The house was built around +a court in the center, fronting on which were long, shaded balconies +both on the first and second floor. A profusion of flowering trailers +rioted up the pillars and along the upper railing.</p> + +<p>"The old families knew how to make themselves comfortable, anyhow," +commented the guest.</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's the word—comfort. It's not modern or stylish or up to +date, but I never saw a house really more comfortable to live in than +this," Miss Underwood agreed. She led the way through a French window +from the veranda to a large room with a southern exposure. "How do you +like this room?"</p> + +<p>"Must catch the morning sunshine fine. I like even the old stone +fireplace in the corner. Why don't builders nowadays make such rooms?"</p> + +<p>"You've saved yourself, Mr. Gordon. This is <i>the sacred room</i>. Here the +Princess of the Rio Chama was born. This was her room when she was a +girl until she went away to school. She slept in that very bed. Down on +your knees, sir, and worship at the shrine."</p> + +<p>He met with a laugh the cool, light scorn of her banter. Yet something +in him warmed to his environment. He had the feeling of having come into +more intimate touch with her past than he had yet done. The sight of +that plain little bed went to the source of his emotions. How many times +had his love knelt beside it in her night-gown and offered up her pure +prayers to the God she worshiped!</p> + +<p>He made his good-byes soon after their return to Mrs. Underwood. Dick +was a long way from a sentimentalist, but he wanted to be alone and +adjust his mind to the new conception of his sweetheart brought by her +childhood home. It was a night of little moonlight. As he walked toward +the hotel he could see nothing of the escort that had been his during +the past few days. He wondered if perhaps they had got tired of +shadowing his movements.</p> + +<p>The road along which he was passing had on both sides of it a row of big +cottonwoods, whose branches met in an arch above. Dick, with that +instinct for safety which every man-hunter has learned, walked down the +middle of the street, eyes and ears alert for the least sign of an +ambush.</p> + +<p>Two men approached on the plank sidewalk. They were quarreling. Suddenly +a knife flashed, and one of the men went with an oath to the ground. +Dick reached for his gun and plunged straight for the assailant, who had +stooped as if to strike again the prostrate man. The rescuer stumbled +over a taut rope and at the same moment a swarm of men fell upon him. +Even as he rose and shook off the clutching hands Gordon knew that he +was the victim of a ruse.</p> + +<p>He had lost his revolver in the fall. With clenched fists he struck hard +and sure. They swarmed upon him, so many that they got in each other's +way. Now he was down, now up again. They swayed to and fro in a huddle, +as does a black bear surrounded by a pack of dogs. Still the man at the +heart of the mêlée struck—and struck—and struck again. Men went down +and were trodden under foot, but he reeled on, stumbling as he went, +turning, twisting, hitting hard and sure with all the strength that many +good clean years in the open had stored within him. Blows fell upon his +curly head as it rose now and again out of the storm—blows of guns, of +knives, of bony knuckles. Yet he staggered forward, bleeding, exhausted, +feeling nothing of the blows, seeing only the distorted faces that +snarled on every side of him.</p> + +<p>He knew that when he went down it would be to stay. Even as he flung +them aside and hammered at the brown faces he felt sure he was lost. The +coat was torn from his back. The blood from his bruised and cut face and +scalp blinded him. Heavy weights dragged at his arms as they struck +wildly and feebly. Iron balls seemed to chain his feet. He plowed +doggedly forward, dragging the pack with him. Furiously they beat him, +striking themselves as often as they did him. His shoulders began to +sway forward. Men leaped upon him from behind. Two he dragged down with +him as he went. The sky was blotted out. He was tired—deadly tired. In +a great weariness he felt himself sinking together.</p> + +<p>The consciousness drained out of him as an ebbing wave does from the +sands of the shore.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV" />CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<div class="center">MANUEL TO THE RESCUE<br /><br /></div> + + +<p>Valencia Valdés did not conform closely to the ideal her preceptress at +the Washington finishing school had held as to what constitutes a +perfect lady. Occasionally her activities shocked Manuel, who held to +the ancient view that maidens should come to matrimony with the +innocence born of conventual ignorance. He would have preferred his wife +to be a clinging vine, but in the case of Valencia this would be +impossible.</p> + +<p>No woman in New Mexico could ride better than the heiress of the Rio +Chama. She could throw a rope as well as some of her <i>vaqueros</i>. At +least one bearskin lay on the floor of her study as a witness to her +prowess as a Diana. Many a time she had fished the river in waders and +brought back with her to the ranch a creel full of trout. Years in the +untempered sun and wind of the southwest had given her a sturdiness of +body unusual in a girl so slenderly fashioned. The responsibility of +large affairs had added to this an independence of judgment that would +have annoyed Don Manuel if he had been less in love.</p> + +<p>Against the advice of both Pesquiera and her foreman she had about a +year before this time largely increased her holdings in cattle, at the +same time investing heavily in improved breeding stock. Her +justification had been that the cost of beef, based on the law of supply +and demand, was bound to continue on the rise.</p> + +<p>"But how do you know, <i>Doña</i>?" her perplexed major domo had asked. +"Twenty—fifteen years ago everybody had cattle and lost money. Prices +are high to-day, but <i>mañana</i>——"</p> + +<p>"To-morrow they will be higher. It's just a matter of arithmetic, +Fernando. There are seventeen million less cattle in the country than +there were eight years ago. The government reports say so. Our +population is steadily increasing. The people must eat. Since there are +fewer cattle they must pay more for their meat. We shall have meat to +sell. Is that not simple?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Si, Doña</i>, but——"</p> + +<p>"But in the main we have always been sheep-herders, so we ought always +to be? We'll run cattle and sheep, too, Fernando. We'll make this ranch +pay as it never has before."</p> + +<p>"But the feed—the winter feed, <i>Señorita</i>?"</p> + +<p>"We'll have to raise our feed. I'm going to send for engineers and find +what it will cost to impound water in the <i>cordilleras</i> and run ditches +into the valley. We ought to be watering thousands of acres for alfalfa +and grain that now are dry."</p> + +<p>"It never has been done—not in the time of Don Alvaro or even in that +of Don Bartolomé."</p> + +<p>"And so you think it never can?" she asked, with a smile.</p> + +<p>"The Rio Chama Valley is grazing land. It is not for agriculture. +Everybody knows that," he insisted doggedly.</p> + +<p>"Everybody knows we were given two legs with which to walk, but it is an +economy to ride. So we use horses."</p> + +<p>Fernando shrugged his shoulders. Of what use to argue with the <i>doña</i> +when her teeth were set? She was a Valdés, and so would have her way.</p> + +<p>That had been a year ago. Now the ditches were built. Fields had been +planted to alfalfa and grain. Soon the water would be running through +the laterals to irrigate the growing crops. Quietly the young woman at +the head of things was revolutionizing the life of the valley by +transforming it from a pastoral to a farming community.</p> + +<p>This morning, having arranged with the major domo the work of the day, +Valencia appeared on the porch dressed for riding. She was going to see +the water turned on to the new ditches from the north lateral.</p> + +<p>The young mistress of the ranch swung astride the horse that had just +been brought from the stables, for she rode man-fashion after the +sensible custom of the West. Before riding out of the plaza she stopped +to give Pedro some directions about a bunch of yearlings in the corral.</p> + +<p>The mailman in charge of the R.F.D. route drove into the yard and handed +Valencia a bunch of letters and papers. One of the pieces given her was +a rather fat package for which she had to sign a registry receipt.</p> + +<p>She handed the mail to Juan and told him to put it on the desk in her +office library; then she changed her mind, moved by an impulse of +feminine curiosity.</p> + +<p>"Give me back that big letter, Juan. I'll just see what it is before I +go."</p> + +<p>Five minutes later she descended to the porch. "I'm not going riding +just now. Keep the horse saddled, Pedro." She had read Dick Gordon's +note and the letter marked Exhibit A. Even careless Juan noticed that +his mistress was much agitated. Pedro wondered savagely whether that +splendid devil <i>Americano</i> had done something fresh to annoy the dear +saint he worshiped.</p> + +<p>Gordon had not overemphasized the effect upon her of his action. Her +pride had clung to a belief in his unworthiness as the justification for +what she had said and done. Now, with a careless and mocking laugh, he +had swept aside all the arguments she had nursed. He had sent to her, so +that she might destroy it, the letter that would have put her case out +of court. If he had wanted a revenge for her bitter words the American +had it now. He had repaid her scorn and contempt with magnanimity. He +had heaped coals of fire upon her head, had humiliated her by proving +that he was more generous of spirit than she.</p> + +<p>Valencia paced the floor of her library in a stress of emotion. It was +not her pride alone that had been touched, but the fine instincts of +justice and fair play and good will. She had outraged hospitality and +sent him packing. She had let him take the long tramp in spite of his +bad knee. Her dependents had attempted to murder him. Her best friend +had tried to fasten a duel upon him. All over the valley his name had +been bandied about as that of one in league with the devil. As an answer +to all this outrage that had been heaped upon him he refused to take +advantage of this chance-found letter of Bartolomé merely because it was +her letter and not his. Her heart was bowed down with shame and yet was +lifted in a warm glow of appreciation of his quality. Something in her +blood sang with gladness. She had known all along that the hateful +things she had said to him could not be true. He was her enemy, but—the +brave spirit of her went out in a rush to thank God for this proof of +his decency.</p> + +<p>The girl was all hot for action. She wanted to humble herself in +apology. She wanted to show him that she could respond to his +generosity. But how? Only one way was open just now.</p> + +<p>She sat down and wrote a swift, impulsive letter of contrition. For the +wrong she had done him Valencia asked forgiveness. As for the letter he +had so generously sent, she must beg him to keep it and use it at the +forthcoming trial. It would be impossible for her to accept such a +sacrifice of his rights. In the meantime she could assure him that she +would always be sorry for the way in which she had misjudged him.</p> + +<p>The young woman called for her horse again and rode to Corbett's, which +was the nearest post-office. In the envelope with her letter was also +the one of her grandfather marked "Exhibit A." She, too, carefully +registered the contents before mailing.</p> + +<p>As she stood on the porch drawing up her gauntlets a young man cantered +into sight. He wore puttees, riding breeches, and a neat corduroy coat. +One glance told her it was Manuel. No other rider in the valley had +quite the same easy seat in the saddle as the young Spaniard. He drew up +sharply in front of Valencia and landed lightly on his feet beside her.</p> + +<p>"<i>Buenos, Señorita</i>."</p> + +<p>"<i>Buenos,</i> cousin." Her shining eyes went eagerly to his. "Manuel, what +do you think Mr. Gordon has done?"</p> + +<p>He shrugged his shoulders. "How can I guess? That mad American might do +anything but show the white feather."</p> + +<p>In four sentences she told him.</p> + +<p>Manuel clapped his hands in approval. "Bravo! Done like a man. He is at +least neither a spy nor a thief."</p> + +<p>Valencia smiled with pleasure. Manuel, too, had come out of the test +with flying colors. He and Gordon were foes, but he accepted at face +value what the latter had done, without any sneers or any sign of +jealousy.</p> + +<p>"And what shall I do with the letter?" his cousin asked.</p> + +<p>"Do with it? Put it in the first fire you see. Shall I lend you a +match?"</p> + +<p>She shook her head, still with the gleam of a smile on her vivid face. +"Too late, Manuel. I have disposed of the dangerous evidence."</p> + +<p>"So? Good. You took my advice before I gave it, then."</p> + +<p>"Not quite. I couldn't be less generous than our enemy. So I have sent +the letter back to him and told him to use it."</p> + +<p>The young man gave her his best bow. "Magnificent, but not war. I might +have trusted the daughter of Don Alvaro to do a thing so royal. My +cousin, I am proud of you."</p> + +<p>"What else could I have done and held my self-respect? I had insulted +him gratuitously and my people had tried to kill him. The least I could +do now was to meet him in a spirit like his own."</p> + +<p>"Honors are easy. Let us see what Mr. Gordon will now do."</p> + +<p>The sound of a light footfall came to them. A timid voice broke into +their conversation.</p> + +<p>"May I see <i>Doña</i> Valencia—alone—for just a minute?"</p> + +<p>Miss Valdés turned. A girl was standing shyly in the doorway. Her soft +brown eyes begged pardon for the intrusion.</p> + +<p>"You are Juanita, are you not?" the young woman asked.</p> + +<p>"<i>Si, Doña</i>."</p> + +<p>Pesquiera eliminated himself by going in to get his mail.</p> + +<p>"What is it that I can do for you?" asked Valencia.</p> + +<p>The Mexican girl broke into an emotional storm. She caught one of her +hands in the brown palm of the other with a little gesture of despair.</p> + +<p>"They have gone to kill him. Doña. I know it. Something tells me. He +will never come back alive." The feeling she had repressed was finding +vent in long, irregular sobs.</p> + +<p>Valencia felt as if she were being drowned in icy water. The color +washed from her cheeks. She had no need to ask who it was that would +never come back alive, but she did.</p> + +<p>"Who, child? Whom is it that they have gone to kill?"</p> + +<p>"The American—<i>Señor</i> Gordon."</p> + +<p>"Who has gone? And when did they go? Tell me quick."</p> + +<p>"Sebastian and Pablo—maybe others—I do not know."</p> + +<p>Miss Valdés thought quickly. It might be true. Both the men mentioned +had asked for a holiday to go to Santa Fé. What business had they there +at this time of the year? Could it be Pablo who had shot at Gordon from +ambush? If so, why was he so bitter against the common enemy?</p> + +<p>"Juanita, tell me everything. What is it that you know?"</p> + +<p>The sobs of the girl increased. She leaned against the door jamb and +buried her face in the crook of her arm.</p> + +<p>The older girl put an arm around the quivering shoulders and spoke +gently. "But listen, child. Tell me all. It may be we can save him yet."</p> + +<p>A name came from the muffled lips. It was "Pablo."</p> + +<p>Valencia's brain was lit by a flash of understanding. "Pablo is your +lover. Is it not so, <i>niña</i>?"</p> + +<p>The dark crown of soft hair moved up and down in assent. "Oh, <i>Doña</i>, he +was, but—"</p> + +<p>"You have quarreled with him?"</p> + +<p>Miss Valdés burned with impatience, but some instinct told her she could +not hurry the girl.</p> + +<p>"<i>Si, Señorita</i>. He quarreled. He said—"</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p>"——that ... that <i>Señor</i> Gordon ..."</p> + +<p>Again, groping for the truth, Valencia found it swiftly.</p> + +<p>"You mean that Pablo was jealous?"</p> + +<p>"Because I had nursed <i>Señor</i> Gordon, because he was kind to me, +because——" Juanita had lifted her face to answer. As she spoke the +color poured into her cheeks even to her throat, convicting evidence of +the cruel embarrassment she felt.</p> + +<p>Valencia's hand dropped to her side. When she spoke again the warmth had +been banished from her voice. "I see. You nursed Mr. Gordon, did you?"</p> + +<p>Juanita's eyes fell before the cold accusation in those of Miss Valdés. +"<i>Si, Señorita.</i>"</p> + +<p>"And he was kind to you? In what way kind?"</p> + +<p>The slim Mexican girl, always of the shyest, was bathed in blushes. "He +called me ... <i>niña</i>. He ..."</p> + +<p>"——made love to you."</p> + +<p>A sensation as if the clothes were being torn from her afflicted +Juanita. Why did the <i>Doña</i> drag her heart out to look at it? Nor did +the girl herself know how much or how little Richard Gordon's gay +<i>camaraderie</i> meant. She was of that type of women who love all that are +kind to them. No man had ever been so considerate as this handsome +curly-headed American. So dumbly her heart went out to him and made the +most of his friendliness. Had he not once put his arm around her +shoulder and told her to "buck up" when he came upon her crying because +of Pedro? Had he not told her she was the prettiest girl in the +neighborhood? And had he not said, too, that she was a little angel for +nursing him so patiently?</p> + +<p>"<i>Doña</i>, I—do—not—know." The words came out as if they were being +dragged from her. Poor Juanita would have liked the ground to open up +and swallow her.</p> + +<p>"Don't you know, you little stupid, that he is playing with you, that he +will not marry you?"</p> + +<p>"If <i>Doña</i> Valencia says so," murmured the Mexican submissively.</p> + +<p>"Men are that way, heartless ... selfish ... vain. But I suppose you led +him on," concluded Valencia cruelly.</p> + +<p>With a little flare of spirit Juanita looked up. Her courage was for her +friend, not for herself.</p> + +<p>"<i>Señor</i> Gordon is good. He is kind."</p> + +<p>"A lot you know about it, child. Have nothing to do with him. His love +can only hurt a girl like you. Go back to your Pablo and forget the +American. I will see he does not trouble you again."</p> + +<p>Juanita began to cry again. She did not want <i>Señorita</i> Valdés or +anybody else interfering between her and the friend she had nursed. But +she knew she could not stop this imperative young woman from doing as +she pleased.</p> + +<p>"Now tell me how you know that Pablo has gone to injure the American. +Did he tell you so?"</p> + +<p>"No-o."</p> + +<p>"Well, what did he say? What is it that you know?" Valencia's shoe +tapped the floor impatiently. "Tell me—tell me!"</p> + +<p>"He—Pablo—met me at the corral the day he left. I was in the kitchen +and he whistled to me." Juanita gave the information sullenly. Why +should <i>Señorita</i> Valdés treat her so harshly? She had done no wrong.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Go on!"</p> + +<p>If she had had the force of character Juanita would have turned on her +heel and walked away. But all her life it had been impressed upon her +that the will of a Valdés was law to her and her class.</p> + +<p>"I do not know ... Pablo told me nothing ... but he laughed at me, oh, +so cruelly! He asked if I ... had any messages for my Gringo lover."</p> + +<p>"Is that all?"</p> + +<p>"All ... except that he would show me what happened to foreign devils +who stole my love from him. Oh, <i>Señorita</i>, do you think he will kill +the American?"</p> + +<p>Valencia, her white lips pressed tightly together, gave no answer. She +was thinking.</p> + +<p>"I hate Pablo. He is wicked. I will never speak to him again," moaned +Juanita helplessly.</p> + +<p>Manuel, coming out of the post-office with his mail, looked at the +weeping girl incuriously. It was, he happened to know, a habit of the +sex to cry over trifles.</p> + +<p>Juanita found in a little nod from Miss Valdés permission to leave. She +turned and walked hurriedly away to the adobe cabin where she slept. +Before she reached it the walk had become a run.</p> + +<p>"Has the young woman lost a ribbon or a lover?" commented Pesquiera, +with a smile.</p> + +<p>"Manuel, I am worried," answered Valencia irrelevantly.</p> + +<p>"What about, my cousin?"</p> + +<p>"It's this man Gordon again. Juanita says that Pablo and Sebastian have +gone to kill him."</p> + +<p>"Gone where?"</p> + +<p>"To Santa Fé. They asked for a leave of absence. You know how sullen and +suspicious Sebastian is. It is fixed firmly in his head that Mr. Gordon +is going to take away his farm."</p> + +<p>Manuel's black eyes snapped. He did not propose to let any peons steal +from him the punishment he owed this insolent Gordon.</p> + +<p>"But Pablo is not a fool. Surely he knows he cannot do such a mad +thing."</p> + +<p>"Pablo is jealous—and hot-headed." The angry color mounted to the +cheeks of the young woman. "He is in love with Juanita and he found out +this stranger has been philandering with her. It is abominable. This +Gordon has made the silly little fool fall in love with him."</p> + +<p>"Oh, if Pablo is jealous——" Pesquiera gave a little shrug of his +shoulders. He understood pretty well the temperament of the ignorant +Mexican. The young lover was likely to shoot first and think afterward.</p> + +<p>Valencia was still thinking of the American. Beneath the olive of her +cheeks two angry spots still burned. "I detest that sort of thing. I +thought he was a gentleman—and he is only a male flirt ... or worse."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps—and perhaps not, my cousin. Did Juanita tell you——?"</p> + +<p>"She told me enough. All I need to know."</p> + +<p>Again the young man's shoulders lifted in a little gesture of humorous +resignation. He knew the uncompromising directness of Miss Valdés and +the futility of arguing with her. After all, the character of Gordon was +none of his business. The man might have made love to Juanita, though he +did not look like that kind of a person. In any case the important thing +was to save his life.</p> + +<p>After a moment's thought he announced a decision. "I shall take the +stage for Santa Fé this afternoon. When I have warned the American I'll +round up your man-hunters and bring them back to you."</p> + +<p>His lady's face thanked him, though her words did not. "You may tell +them I said they were to come back at once."</p> + +<p>At her cousin's urgent request Miss Valdés stayed to eat luncheon with +him at Corbett's, which was a half-way station for the stage and +maintained a public eating-house. Even Valencia hesitated a little at +this, though she was at heart an emancipated American girl and not a +much-chaperoned Spanish maid. But she wanted to repay him for the +service he was undertaking so cheerfully, and therefore sacrificed her +scruples.</p> + +<p>As they were being served by Juanita the stage rolled up and disgorged +its passengers. They poured into the dining-room—a mine-owner and his +superintendent, a storekeeper from the village at the other end of the +valley, a young woman school-teacher from the Indian reservation, a +cattleman, and two Mexican sheepmen.</p> + +<p>While the fresh horses were being hitched to the stage Pesquiera and his +guest stood back a little apart from the others. Corbett brought out a +sack containing mail and handed it to the driver. The passengers found +again their places.</p> + +<p>Pesquiera shook hands with Valencia. His gaze rested for a moment in her +dark eyes.</p> + +<p>"<i>Adios, linda</i>," he said, in a low voice.</p> + +<p>The color deepened in her cheeks. She understood that he was telling her +how very much he was her lover now and always. "Good-bye, <i>amigo</i>," she +answered lightly.</p> + +<p>Pesquiera took his place on the back seat. The whip of the driver +cracked. In a cloud of white dust the stage disappeared around a bend in +the road.</p> + +<p>Valencia ordered her horse brought, and left for the ranch. Having +dispatched Manuel to the scene of action, it might be supposed that she +would have awaited the issue without farther activity. But on the way +home she began to reflect that her cousin would not reach Santa Fé until +next morning, and there was always a chance that this would be too late. +As soon as she reached the ranch she called up the station where the +stage connected with the train. To the operator she dictated a message +to be wired to Richard Gordon. The body of it ran thus:<br /></p> + +<blockquote><div><br />"Have heard that attack may be made upon your life. Please do not +go out alone or at night at all. Answer."<br /></div></blockquote> + +<p><br />She gave urgent instructions that if necessary to reach Gordon her +telegram be sent to every hotel in the city and to his lawyer, Thomas M. +Fitt.</p> + +<p>Now that she had done all she could the young woman tried to put the +matter out of her mind by busying herself with the affairs of the ranch. +She had a talk with a cattle buyer, after which she rode out to see the +engineer who had charge of the building of the irrigation system she had +installed. An answer would, she was sure, be awaiting her upon her +return home.</p> + +<p>Her anticipation was well founded. One of the housemaids told her that +the operator at San Jacinto had twice tried to get her on the telephone. +The mistress of the ranch stepped at once to the receiver.</p> + +<p>"Give me San Jacinto," she said to the operator.</p> + +<p>As soon as she was on the wire with the operator he delivered the +message he had for her. It was from Santa Fé and carried the signature +of Stephen Davis:<br /></p> + +<blockquote><div><br />"Gordon has been missing since last night. I fear the worst. For +God's sake, tell me what you know."<br /></div></blockquote> + +<p><br />Valencia leaned against the telephone receiver and steadied herself. She +felt strangely faint. The wall opposite danced up and down and the floor +swayed like the deck of a vessel in a heavy sea. She set her teeth hard +to get a grip on herself. Presently the wave of light-headedness passed.</p> + +<p>She moved across the room and sank down into a chair in front of her +desk. They had then murdered him after all. She and her people were +responsible for his death. There was nothing to be done now—nothing at +all.</p> + +<p>Then, out of the silence, a voice seemed to call to her—the voice of +Richard Gordon, faint and low, but clear. She started to her feet and +listened, shaken to the soul by this strange summons from that world +which lay beyond the reach of her physical senses. What could it mean? +She had the body of a healthy young animal. Her nerves never played her +any tricks. But surely there had come to her a call for help not born of +her own excited fancy.</p> + +<p>In an instant she had made up her mind. Her finger pressed an electric +button beside the desk, and almost simultaneously a second one. The maid +who appeared in the doorway in answer to the first ring found her +mistress busily writing.</p> + +<p>Valencia looked up. "Rosario, pack a suitcase for me with clothes for a +week. Put in my light brown dress and a couple of shirt-waists. I'll be +up presently." Her gaze passed to the major domo who now stood beside +the maid. "I'm going to Santa Fé to-night, Fernando. Order the grays to +be hitched to the buggy."</p> + +<p>"To-night! But, <i>Señorita</i>, the train has gone."</p> + +<p>"Juan will go with me. We'll drive right through. My business is +important."</p> + +<p>"But it is seventy miles to Santa Fé, and part of the way over mountain +roads," he protested.</p> + +<p>"Yes. We should reach there by morning. I mean to travel all night. Make +the arrangements, please, and tell Juan. Then return here. I want to +talk over with you the ranch affairs. You will have charge of the +ditches, too, during my absence. Don't argue, Fernando, but do as I +say."</p> + +<p>The old man had opened his mouth to object, but he closed it without +voicing his views. A little smile, born of his pride in her wilfulness, +touched his lips and wrinkled the parchment skin. Was she not a Valdés? +He had served her father and her grandfather. To him, therefore, she +could do no wrong.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV" />CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<div class="center">ONE THOUSAND DOLLARS REWARD<br /><br /></div> + + +<p>The night of his disappearance Dick had sauntered forth from the hotel +with the jaunty assurance to Davis that he was going to call on a young +lady. He offered no further details, and his friend asked for none, +though he wondered a little what young woman in Santa Fé had induced +Gordon to change his habits. The old miner had known him from boyhood. +His partner had never found much time for the society of eligible +maidens. He had been too busy living to find tea-cup discussions about +life interesting. The call of adventure had absorbed his youth, and he +had given his few mature years ardently to the great American game of +money-making. It was not that he loved gold. What Richard Gordon cared +for was the battle, the struggle against both honorable and unscrupulous +foe-men for success. He fought in the business world only because it was +the test of strength. Money meant power. So he had made money.</p> + +<p>It was not until Dick failed to appear for breakfast next morning that +Davis began to get uneasy. He sent a bellboy to awaken Gordon, and +presently the lad came back with word that he could get no answer to his +knocks. Instantly Steve pushed back his chair and walked out of the room +to the desk in the lobby.</p> + +<p>"Got a skeleton key to Mr. Gordon's room—317, I think it is?" he +demanded.</p> + +<p>"Yes. We keep duplicate keys. You see, Mr. Davis, guests go away and +carry the keys——"</p> + +<p>"Then I want it. Afraid something's wrong with my friend. He's always up +early and on hand for breakfast. He hasn't showed up this mo'ning. The +bell hop can't waken him. I tell you something's wrong."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I reckon he'll turn up all right." The clerk turned to the key +rack. "Here's the key to Room 317. Mr. Gordon must have left it here. +Likely he's gone for a walk."</p> + +<p>Davis shook his head obstinately. "Don't believe it. I'm going up to +see, anyhow."</p> + +<p>Within five minutes he discovered that the bed in Room 317 had not been +slept in the previous night. He was thoroughly alarmed. Gordon had no +friends in the town likely to put him up for the night. Nor was he the +sort of rounder to dissipate his energies in all-night debauchery. Dick +had come to Santa Fé for a definite purpose. The old miner knew from +long experience that he would not be diverted from it for the sake of +the futile foolish diversions known by some as pleasure. Therefore the +mind of Davis jumped at once to the conclusion of foul play.</p> + +<p>And if foul play, then the Valdés claimants to the Rio Chamo Valley were +the guilty parties. He blamed himself bitterly for having let Dick +venture out alone, for having taken no precautions whatever to guard him +against the Mexicans who had already once attempted his life.</p> + +<p>"I'm a fine friend. Didn't even find out who he was going out to call +on. Fact is, I didn't figure he was in any danger so long as he was in +town here," he explained to the sheriff.</p> + +<p>He learned nothing either at the police headquarters or at the newspaper +offices that threw light on the disappearance of Gordon. No murder had +been reported during the night. No unusual disturbance of any kind had +occurred, so far as could be learned.</p> + +<p>Before noon he had the town plastered with posters in English and in +Spanish offering a reward of five hundred dollars for news leading to +the recovery of Richard Gordon or for evidence leading to the conviction +of his murderers in case he was dead. This brought two callers to the +hotel almost at once. One was the attorney Fitt, the other a young woman +who gave her name as Kate Underwood. Fitt used an hour of the old +miner's time to no purpose, but the young woman brought with her one +piece of news.</p> + +<p>"I want to know when Mr. Gordon was last seen," she explained, "because +he was calling on my mother and me last night and left about ten +o'clock."</p> + +<p>The little man got to his feet in great excitement. "My dear young +woman, you're the very person I've been wanting to see. He told me he +was going calling, but I'm such a darned chump I didn't think to ask +where. Is Dick a friend of your family?"</p> + +<p>"No, hardly that. I met him when he came to our office in the State +House to look up the land grant papers. We became friendly and I asked +him to call because we own the old Valdés house, and I thought he would +like to see it." She added, rather dryly: "You haven't answered my +question."</p> + +<p>"I'll say that so far as I know you are the last person who ever saw +Dick alive except his murderers," Davis replied, a gleam of tears in his +eyes.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it can't be as bad as that," she cried. "They wouldn't go that +far."</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't they? He was shot at from ambush while we were out riding one +day in the Chama Valley."</p> + +<p>"By whom?"</p> + +<p>"By a young Mexican—one of Miss Valdés servants."</p> + +<p>"You don't mean that Valencia——?"</p> + +<p>She stopped, unwilling to put her horrified thought into words. He +answered her meaning.</p> + +<p>"No, I reckon not. She wanted Dick to tell her who it was, so she could +punish the man. But that doesn't alter the facts any. He was shot at. +That time the murderer missed, but maybe this time——"</p> + +<p>Miss Underwood broke in sharply. "Do you know that he has been followed +ever since he came to town, that men have dogged his steps everywhere?"</p> + +<p>Davis leaned across the table where he was sitting. "How do you know?" +he questioned eagerly.</p> + +<p>"I saw them and warned him. He laughed about it and said he knew +already. He didn't seem at all worried."</p> + +<p>"Worried! He's just kid enough to be tickled to death about it," snapped +the miner, masking his anxiety with irritation. "He hadn't sense enough +to tell me for fear it would disturb me—and I hadn't the sense to find +out in several days what you did in five minutes."</p> + +<p>Davis and Miss Underwood went together over every foot of the road +between her home and the hotel. One ray of hope they got from their +examination of the ground he must have traversed to reach the El Tovar, +as the hotel was named. At one spot—where a double row of cottonwoods +lined the road—a fence had been knocked down and many feet had trampled +the sandy pasture within. Steve picked up a torn piece of cloth about +six inches by twelve in dimension. It had evidently been a part of a +coat sleeve. He recognized the pattern as that of the suit his friend +had been wearing.</p> + +<p>"A part of his coat all right," he said. "They must have bushwhacked him +here. By the foot-prints there were a good many of them."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad there were."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"For two reasons," the girl explained. "In the first place, if they had +wanted to kill him, one or two would have been enough. They wouldn't +take any more than was necessary into their confidence."</p> + +<p>"That's right. Your head's level there."</p> + +<p>"And, in the second place, two men can keep a secret, but six or eight +can't. Some one of them is bound to talk to his sweetheart or wife or +friend."</p> + +<p>"True enough. That five hundred dollars might get one of 'em, too."</p> + +<p>"Somehow I believe he is alive. His enemies have taken him away +somewhere—probably up into the hills."</p> + +<p>"But why?"</p> + +<p>"You ought to know that better than I do. What could they gain by it?"</p> + +<p>He scratched his gray head. "Search me. They couldn't aim to hold him +till after the trial. That would be a kid's play."</p> + +<p>"Couldn't they get him to sign some paper—something saying that he +would give up his claim—or that he would sell out cheap?"</p> + +<p>"No, they couldn't," the old man answered grimly. "But they might think +they could. I expect that's the play. Dick never in the world would come +through, though. He's game, that boy is. The point is, what will they do +when they find he stands the acid?"</p> + +<p>Miss Underwood looked quickly at him, then looked quickly away. She knew +what they would do. So did Davis.</p> + +<p>"No, that's not the point. We must find him—just as soon as we can. +Stir this whole town up and rake it with a fine-tooth comb. See if any +of Miss Valdés' peons are in town. If they are have them shadowed."</p> + +<p>They separated presently, she to go to the State House, he to return to +the El Tovar. There he found the telegram from Miss Valdés awaiting him. +Immediately he dictated an answer.</p> + +<p>Before nightfall a second supply of posters decorated walls and +billboards. The reward was raised to one thousand dollars for +information that would lead to the finding of Richard Gordon alive and +the same sum for evidence sufficient to convict his murderers in case he +was dead. It seemed impossible that in so small a place, with everybody +discussing the mysterious disappearance, the affair could long remain a +secret. Davis did not doubt that Miss Underwood was correct in her +assumption that the assailants of Gordon had carried him with them into +some hidden pocket of the hills, in which case it might take longer to +run them to earth. The great danger that he feared was panic on the part +of the abductors. To cover their tracks they might kill him and leave +this part of the country. The closer pursuit pressed on them the more +likely this was to happen. It behooved him to move with the greatest +care.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI" />CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<div class="center">VALENCIA MAKES A PROMISE<br /><br /></div> + + +<p>When Manuel descended from the El Tovar hack which had brought him from +the station to that hotel the first person he saw standing upon the +porch was Valencia Valdés. He could hardly believe his eyes, for of +course she could not be here. He had left her at Corbett's, had taken +the stage and the train, and now found her waiting for him. The thing +was manifestly impossible. Yet here she was.</p> + +<p>Swiftly she came down the steps to meet him.</p> + +<p>"Manuel, we are too late. Mr. Gordon has gone."</p> + +<p>"Gone where?" he asked, his mind dazed as it moved from one puzzle to +another.</p> + +<p>"We don't know. He was attacked night before last and carried away, +whether dead or alive we have no proof."</p> + +<p>"One thing at a time, Valencia. How did you get here?"</p> + +<p>"I drove across the mountains—started when I got the news from Mr. +Davis that his friend had disappeared."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean that you drove all night—along mountain roads?" he asked, +amazed.</p> + +<p>"Of course. I had to get here." She dismissed this as a trifle with a +little gesture of her hand. "Manuel, we must find him. I believe he is +alive. This is some of Pablo's work. Down in old-town some one must know +where he is. Bring him to me and I'll make him tell what he has done +with Mr. Gordon."</p> + +<p>Pesquiera was healthily hungry. He would have liked to sit down to a +good breakfast, but he saw that his cousin was laboring under a heavy +nervous tension. Cheerfully he gave up his breakfast for the present.</p> + +<p>But when, three hours later, he returned from the old adobe Mexican +quarter Manuel had nothing to report but failure. Pablo had been seen by +several people, but not within the past twenty-four hours. Nor had +anything been seen of Sebastian. The two men had disappeared from sight +as completely as had Gordon.</p> + +<p>Valencia, in the privacy of one of the hotel parlors, broke down and +wept for the first time. Manuel tried to comfort her by taking the girl +in his arms and petting her. She submitted to his embrace, burying her +face in his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Manuel, I'm a—a murderess," she sobbed.</p> + +<p>"You're a goose," he corrected. "Haven't you from the first tried to +save this man from his own rashness? You're not to blame in any way, +Val."</p> + +<p>"Yes ... Yes," she sobbed. "Pablo and Sebastian would never have dared +touch him if they hadn't known that I'd quarreled with him. It all comes +back to that."</p> + +<p>"That's pure nonsense. For that matter, I don't believe he's dead at +all. We'll find him, as gay and insolent as ever, I promise you."</p> + +<p>Hope was buoyant in the young man's heart. For the first time he held +his sweetheart in his arms. She clung to him, as a woman ought to her +lover, palpitant, warm, and helpless. Of course they would find this +pestiferous American who had caused her so much worry. And then +he—Manuel—would claim his reward.</p> + +<p>"Do you think so ... really? You're not just saying so because ...?" Her +olive cheek turned the least in the world toward him.</p> + +<p>Manuel trod on air. He felt that he could have flown across the range on +the wings of his joy.</p> + +<p>"I feel sure of it, <i>niña</i>." Daring much, his hand caressed gently the +waves of heavy black hair that brushed his cheek.</p> + +<p>Almost in a murmur she answered him. "Manuel, find him and save him. +Afterward ..."</p> + +<p>"Afterward, <i>alma mia?</i>"</p> + +<p>She nodded. "I'll ... do what you ask."</p> + +<p>"You will marry me?" he cried, afraid to believe that his happiness had +come at last.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Valencia, you love me?"</p> + +<p>She trod down any doubts she might feel. Was he not the one suitable +mate for her of all the men she knew?</p> + +<p>"How can I help it. You are good. You are generous. You serve me truly." +Gently she disengaged herself and wiped her eyes with a lace kerchief. +"But we must first find the American."</p> + +<p>"I'll find him. Dead or alive I'll bring him to you. Dear heart, you've +given me the strength that moves mountains."</p> + +<p>A little smile fought for life upon her sad face. "You'll not have +strength unless you eat. Poor Manuel, I think you lost your breakfast. I +ordered luncheon to be ready for us early. We'll eat now."</p> + +<p>A remark of Manuel during luncheon gave his vis-à-vis an idea.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Davis is most certainly thorough. I never saw a town so plastered +with bills before," he remarked.</p> + +<p>Valencia laid down her knife and fork as she looked at him. "Let's offer +a reward for Pablo and Sebastian—say, a hundred dollars. That would +bring us news of them."</p> + +<p>"You're right," he agreed. "I'll get bills out this afternoon. Perhaps +I'd better say no incriminating questions will be asked of those giving +us information."</p> + +<p>Stirred to activity by the promise of such large rewards, not only the +sheriff's office and the police, but also private parties scoured the +neighboring country for traces of the missing man or his captors. Every +available horse in town was called into service for the man-hunt. Others +became sleuths on foot and searched cellars and empty houses for the +body of the man supposed to have been murdered. Never in its history had +so much suspicion among neighbors developed in the old-town. Many who +could not possibly be connected with the crime were watched jealously +lest they snap up one of the rewards by stumbling upon evidence that had +been overlooked.</p> + +<p>False clews in abundance were brought to Davis and Pesquiera. Good +citizens came in with theories that lacked entirely the backing of any +evidence. One of these was that a flying machine had descended in the +darkness and that Gordon had been carried away by a friend to avoid the +payment of debts he was alleged to owe. The author of this explanation +was a stout old lady of militant appearance who carried a cotton +umbrella large enough to cover a family. She was extraordinarily +persistent and left in great indignation to see a lawyer because Davis +would not pay her the reward.</p> + +<p>That day and the next passed with the mystery still unsolved. Valencia +continued to stay at the hotel instead of opening the family town house, +probably because she had brought no servants with her from the valley +and did not know how long she would remain in the city. She and Manuel +called upon the Underwoods to hear Kate's story, but from it they +gathered nothing new. Mrs. Underwood welcomed them with the gentle +kindness that characterized her, but Kate was formal and distant.</p> + +<p>"She doesn't like me," Valencia told her cousin as soon as they had +left. "I wonder why. We were good enough friends as children."</p> + +<p>Manuel said nothing. He stroked his little black mustache with the +foreign manner he had inherited. If he had cared to do so perhaps he +could have explained Kate Underwood's stiffness. Partly it was +embarrassment and partly shyness. He knew that there had been a +time—before Valencia's return from college—when Kate lacked very +little of being in love with him. He had but to say the word to have +become engaged—and he had not said it. For, while on a visit to the +East, he had called upon his beautiful cousin and she had won his love +at once. This had nipped in the bud any embryonic romance that might +otherwise have been possible with Kate.</p> + +<p>A little old Mexican woman with a face like wrinkled leather was waiting +to see them in front of the hotel.</p> + +<p>"<i>Señor</i> Pesquiera?" she asked, with a little bob of the body meant to +be a bow.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And <i>Señorita</i> Valdés?"</p> + +<p>"That is my name," answered Valencia.</p> + +<p>"Will the <i>señor</i> and the <i>señorita</i> take a walk? The night is fine."</p> + +<p>"Where?" demanded Manuel curtly.</p> + +<p>"Into old-town, <i>señor</i>."</p> + +<p>"You have something to tell us."</p> + +<p>"To show you, <i>señor</i>—for a hundred dollars."</p> + +<p>"Sebastian—or is it Pablo?" cried Valencia, in a low voice.</p> + +<p>"I say nothing, <i>señorita</i>" whined the old woman. "I show you; then you +pay. Is it not so?"</p> + +<p>"Get the money, Manuel," his cousin ordered quietly.</p> + +<p>Manuel got it from the hotel safe. He took time also to get from his +room a revolver. Gordon had fallen victim to an ambush and he did not +intend to do so if he could help it. In his own mind he had no doubt +that some of their countrymen were selling either Pablo or Sebastian for +the reward, but it was better to be safe than to be sorry.</p> + +<p>The old crone led them by side streets into the narrow adobe-lined roads +of old-town. They passed through winding alleys and between buildings +crumbling with age. Always Manuel watched, his right hand in his coat +pocket. At the entrance to a little court a man emerged from the shadow +of a wall. He whispered with the old dame for a minute.</p> + +<p>"Come. Make an end of this and show us what you have to show, <i>muy +pronto</i>," interrupted Manuel impatiently.</p> + +<p>"In good time, <i>señor</i>," the man apologized.</p> + +<p>"Just a word first, my friend. I have a revolver in my hand. If there is +trickery in your mind, better give it up. I'm a dead shot, and I'll put +the first bullet through your heart. Now lead on."</p> + +<p>The Mexican threw up his hands in protest to all the saints that his +purpose was good. He would assuredly keep faith, <i>señor</i>.</p> + +<p>"See you do," replied the Spaniard curtly.</p> + +<p>Their guide rapped three times on a door of a tumble-down shack. +Cautiously it was opened a few inches. There was another whispered +conversation.</p> + +<p>"The <i>señor</i> and the <i>señorita</i> can come in," said the first man, +standing aside.</p> + +<p>Manuel restrained the young woman by stretching his left arm in front of +her.</p> + +<p>"Just a moment. Light a lamp, my friends. We do not go forward in the +dark."</p> + +<p>At this there was a further demur, but finally a match flickered and a +lamp was lit. Manuel moved slowly forward into the room, followed by +Valencia. In a corner of the room a man lay bound upon the floor, his +back toward them. One of the men rolled him over as if he had been a +sack of potatoes. The face into which they looked had been mauled and +battered, but Valencia had no trouble in recognizing it.</p> + +<p>"Sebastian!" she cried.</p> + +<p>He said nothing. A sullen, dogged look rested on his face. Manuel had +seen it before on the countenance of many men. He knew that the sheep +grazer could not be driven to talk.</p> + +<p>Miss Valdés might have known it, too, but she was too impatient for +finesse. "What have you done with Mr. Gordon? Tell me—now—at once," +she commanded.</p> + +<p>The man's eyes did not lift to meet hers. Nor did he answer a single +word.</p> + +<p>"First, our hundred dollars, <i>Señorita</i>," one of the men reminded her.</p> + +<p>"It will be paid when you deliver Sebastian to us in the street with his +hands tied behind him," Manuel promised.</p> + +<p>They protested, grumbling that they had risked enough already when they +had captured him an hour earlier. But in the end they came to +Pesquiera's condition. The prisoner's hands were tied behind him and his +feet released so that he could walk. Manuel slid one arm under the right +one of Sebastian. The fingers of his left hand rested on the handle of a +revolver in his coat pocket.</p> + +<p>Valencia, all impatience, could hardly restrain herself until they were +alone with their prisoner. She walked on the other side of her cousin, +but as soon as they reached the Plaza she stopped.</p> + +<p>"Where is he, Sebastian? What have you done with him? I warn you it is +better to tell all you know," she cried sternly.</p> + +<p>He looked up at her doggedly, moistened his lips, and looked down again +without a word.</p> + +<p>"Speak!" she urged imperiously. "Where is Mr. Gordon? Tell me he is +alive. And what of Pablo?"</p> + +<p>Manuel spoke in a low voice. "My cousin, you are driving him to silence. +Leave him to me. He must be led, not driven."</p> + +<p>Valencia was beyond reason. She felt that every minute lost was of +tremendous importance. If Gordon was alive they must get help to him at +once. All her life she had known Sebastian. When she had been a little +tot he had taught her how to ride and how to fish. Since her return from +college she had renewed acquaintance with him. Had she not been good to +his children when they had small-pox? Had she not sold him his place +cheaper than any other man could have bought it? Why, then, should he +assume she was his enemy? Why should he distrust her? Why, above all, +had he done this foolish and criminal thing?</p> + +<p>Her anger blazed as she recalled all this and more. She would show +Sebastian that because she had been indulgent he could not trade +defiantly upon her kindness.</p> + +<p>"No," she told Manuel. "No. I shall deal with him myself. He will speak +or I shall turn him over to the sheriff."</p> + +<p>"Let us at least go to the hotel, Valencia. We do not want to gather a +crowd on the street."</p> + +<p>"As you please."</p> + +<p>They reached the hotel parlor and Valencia gave Sebastian one more +chance.</p> + +<p>The man shuffled uneasily on his feet, but did not answer.</p> + +<p>"Very well," continued Miss Valdés stiffly, "it is not my fault that you +will have to go to the penitentiary and leave your children without +support."</p> + +<p>Manuel tried to stop her, but Valencia brushed past and left the room. +She went straight to a telephone and was connected with the office of +the sheriff. After asking that an officer be sent at once to arrest a +man whom she was holding as prisoner, she hung up the receiver and +returned to the parlor.</p> + +<p>In all she could not have been absent more than five minutes, but when +she reached the parlor it was empty. Both Manuel and his prisoner had +gone.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII" />CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<div class="center">AN OBSTINATE MAN<br /><br /></div> + + +<p>When Richard Gordon came back from unconsciousness to a world of +haziness and headaches he was quite at a loss to account for his +situation. He knew vaguely that he was lying flat on his back and that +he was being jolted uncomfortably to and fro. His dazed brain registered +sensations of pain both dull and sharp from a score of bruised nerve +centers. For some reason he could neither move his hands nor lift his +head. His body had been so badly jarred by the hail of blows through +which he had plowed that at first his mind was too blank to give him +explanations.</p> + +<p>Gradually he recalled that he had been in a fight. He remembered a sea +of faces, the thud of fists, the flash of knives. This must be the +reason why every bone ached, why the flesh on his face was caked and +warm moisture dripped from cuts in his scalp. It dawned upon him that he +could not move his arms because they were tied and that the interference +with his breathing was caused by a gag. When he opened his eyes he saw +nothing, but whenever his face or hands stirred from the jolting +something light and rough brushed his flesh; An odor of alfalfa filled +his nostrils. He guessed that he was in a wagon and covered with hay.</p> + +<p>Where were they taking him? Why had they not killed him at once? Who was +at the bottom of the attack upon him? Already his mind was busy with the +problem.</p> + +<p>Presently the jolting ceased. He could hear guarded voices. The alfalfa +was thrown aside and he was dragged from his place and carried down some +steps. The men went stumbling through the dark, turning first to the +right, and then to the left. They groped their way into a room and +dropped him upon a bed. Even now they struck no light, but through a +small window near the ceiling moonbeams entered and relieved somewhat +the inky blackness.</p> + +<p>"Is he dead?" someone asked in Spanish.</p> + +<p>"No. His eyes were open as we brought him in," answered a second voice +guardedly.</p> + +<p>They stood beside the bed and looked down at their prisoner. His eyes +were getting accustomed to the darkness. He saw that one of the men was +Pablo Menendez. The other, an older Mexican with short whiskers, was +unknown to him.</p> + +<p>"He fought like a devil from hell. Roderigo's arm is broken. Not one of +us but is marked," said the older man admiringly.</p> + +<p>"My head is ringing yet, Sebastian," agreed Pablo. "<i>Dios</i>, how he +slammed poor José down. The blood poured from his nose and mouth. Never +yet have I seen a man fight so fierce and so hard as this <i>Americano</i>. +He may be the devil himself, but his claws are clipped now. And here he +lies till he does as we want, or——" The young Mexican did not finish +his sentence, but the gleam in his eyes was significant.</p> + +<p>Pablo stooped till his eyes were close to those of the bound man. +"<i>Señor,</i> shall I take the gag from your mouth? Will you swear not to +cry out and not to make any noise?"</p> + +<p>Gordon nodded.</p> + +<p>"So, but if you do the road to Paradise will be short and swift," +continued Menendez. "Before your shout has died away you will be dead. +<i>Sabe, Señor</i>?"</p> + +<p>He unknotted the towel at the back of his prisoner's head and drew it +from Dick's mouth. Gordon expanded his lungs in a deep breath before he +spoke coolly to his gaoler.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Menendez. You needn't keep your fist on that gat. I've no +intention of committing suicide until after I see you hanged."</p> + +<p>"Which will be never, <i>Señor</i> Gordon," replied Pablo rapidly in Spanish. +"You will never leave here alive except on terms laid down by us."</p> + +<p>"Interesting if true—but not true, I think," commented Dick pleasantly. +"You have made a mistake, my friends, and you will have to pay for it."</p> + +<p>"If we have made a mistake it can yet be remedied, <i>Señor</i>" retorted +Pablo quietly. "We have but to make an end of you and behold! all is +well again."</p> + +<p>"Afraid not, my enthusiastic young friend. Too many in the secret. +Someone will squeal, and the rest of you—particularly you two +ringleaders—will be hanged by the neck. It takes only ordinary +intelligence to know that. Therefore I am quite safe, even though I have +a confounded headache and a rising fever." Gordon added with cheerful +solicitude: "I do hope I'm not going to get sick on your hands. It's +rather a habit of mine, you know. But, really, you can't blame me this +time."</p> + +<p>A danger signal flared in the eyes of the young Mexican. "Better not, +<i>Señor</i>. You will here have no young and charming nurse to wait upon +you."</p> + +<p>"Meaning Mrs. Corbett?" asked the prisoner, smiling up impudently.</p> + +<p>"Whose heart your soft words can steal away from him to whom it +belongs," continued Pablo furiously.</p> + +<p>"Sho, I reckon Corbett——"</p> + +<p><i>"Mil diablos!"</i></p> + +<p>A devil of jealousy was burning out of the black eyes that blazed into +those of the American. It was no longer possible for Dick to miss the +menace and its meaning. The Mexican was speaking of Juanita. He believed +that his prisoner had been making love to the girl and his heart was +black with hate because of it.</p> + +<p>Gordon looked at him steadily, then summed up with three derisive words. +"You damn fool!"</p> + +<p>Something in the way he said them shook Pablo's conviction. Was it +possible after all that his jealousy had been useless? Juanita had told +him that all through his delirium this man had raved of Miss Valdés. +Perhaps—— But, no, had he not with his own eyes seen the man bantering +Juanita while the color came and went in her wild rose cheeks? Had he +not seen him lean on her shoulder as he hobbled out to the porch, just +as a lover might on that of his sweetheart?</p> + +<p>With an oath Pablo turned sullenly away. He knew he was no match for +this man at any point. Yet he was a leader among his own people because +of the force in him.</p> + +<p>Gordon slept little during the night. He had been so badly beaten that +outraged nature took her revenge in a feverish restlessness that +precluded any real rest. With the coming of day the temperature +subsided. Pablo brought a basin of water and a sponge, with which he +washed the bloody face and head of the bound man.</p> + +<p>Dick observed that his nurse had a few marks of his own as souvenirs of +the battle. The cheek bone had been laid open by a blow that must have +been made with his knuckles. One eye was half shut, and beneath it was a +deep purple swelling.</p> + +<p>"Had quite a little jamboree, didn't we?" remarked Gordon, with a grin. +"I'll bet you lads mussed my hair up some."</p> + +<p>Pablo said nothing, but after he had made his unwilling guest as +presentable and comfortable as possible he proceeded to business.</p> + +<p>"You want to know why we have made you prisoner, <i>Señor</i> Gordon?" he +suggested. "It has perhaps occur to you that it would have been much +easier to shoot you and be done?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that has struck me, Menendez. I reckon your nerve didn't quite run +to murder maybe."</p> + +<p>"Not so. I spare you because you save my brother's life after he shoot +at you. But I exact conditions. So?"</p> + +<p>The eyes of the miner had grown hard and steelly. The lids had closed on +them so that only slits were open. "Let's hear them."</p> + +<p>"First, that you give what is called word of honor not to push any +charges against those taking you prisoner."</p> + +<p>"Pass that for the present," ordered Dick curtly. "Number two please."</p> + +<p>"That you sign a paper drawn up by a lawyer giving all your rights in +the Rio Chama Valley to Señorita Valdés and promise never to go near the +valley again."</p> + +<p>"Nothing doing," answered the prisoner promptly, his jaws snapping +tight.</p> + +<p>"But yes—most assuredly yes. I risk much to save your life. But you +must go to meet me, <i>Señor</i>. Is a man's life not worth all to him? So? +Sign, and you live."</p> + +<p>The eyes of the men had fastened—the fierce, black, eager ones of the +Mexican and the steelly gray ones of the Anglo-Saxon. There was the +rigor of battle in that gaze, the grinding of rapier on rapier. Gordon +was a prisoner in the hands of his enemy. He lay exhausted from a +terrible beating. That issues of life and death hung in the balance a +child might have guessed. But victory lay with the white man. The lids +of Menendez fell over sullen, angry eyes.</p> + +<p>"You are a fool, <i>Señor</i>. We go to prison for no man who is our enemy. +Pouf! When the hour comes I snuff out your life like that." And Pablo +snapped his fingers airily.</p> + +<p>"Maybe—and maybe not. I figure on living to be an old man. Tell you +what I'll do, Menendez. Turn me loose and I'll forget about our little +rumpus last night. I'd ought to send you to the pen, but I'll consent to +forego that pleasure."</p> + +<p>Sulkily Pablo turned away. What could one do with a madman who insisted +on throwing his life away? The young Mexican was not a savage, though +the barbaric strain in his wild lawless blood was still strong. He did +not relish the business of killing in cold blood even the man he hated.</p> + +<p>"If you kill me you'll hang," went on Gordon composedly. "You'll never +get away with it. Your own friends will swear your neck into a noose. +Your partner Sebastian—you'll excuse me if I appear familiar, but I +don't know the gentleman's other name—will turn State's evidence to try +to save his own neck. But I reckon he'll have to climb the ladder, too."</p> + +<p>Sebastian pushed aside his companion angrily and took the American by +the throat.</p> + +<p>"<i>Por Dios</i>, I show you. If I hang I hang—but you——" His muscular +fingers tightened till the face of his enemy grew black. But the +eyes—the steady, cool, contemptuous eyes—still looked into his +defiantly.</p> + +<p>Pablo dragged his accomplice from the bedside. The time might come for +this, but it was not yet.</p> + +<p>It had been a close thing for Gordon. If those lean, strong fingers had +been given a few seconds more at his throat they would have snapped the +cord of life. But gradually the distorted face resumed its natural hue +as the coughing, strangling man began to breathe again.</p> + +<p>"Your—friend—is—impetuous," Dick suggested to Pablo as soon as he +could get the words out one at a time.</p> + +<p>"He will shake the life out of you as a terrier does that of a rat," +Pablo promised vindictively.</p> + +<p>"There's no fun—in being strangled, as you'll both—find out later," +the prisoner retorted whimsically but with undaunted spirit.</p> + +<p>Sebastian had left the room. At the expiration of half an hour he +returned with a tray, upon which were two plates with food and two cups +of steaming coffee. The Mexicans ate their ham and their <i>frijoles</i> and +drank their coffee. The prisoner they ignored.</p> + +<p>"Don't I draw even a Libby Prison allowance?" the American wanted to +know.</p> + +<p>"You eat and you drink after you have signed the paper," Pablo told him.</p> + +<p>"I always did think we ate too much and too often. Much obliged for a +chance to work out my theories."</p> + +<p>Gordon turned his back upon them, his face to the wall. Presently, in +spite of the cramped position necessitated by his bound arms, he yielded +to weariness and fell asleep. Sebastian lay down in a corner of the room +and also slept. He and Pablo would have to relieve each other as +watchmen so long as they held their prisoner. For that reason they must +get what rest they could during the day.</p> + +<p>Menendez found himself the victim of conflicting emotions. It had been +easy while they were plotting the abduction to persuade himself that the +man would grant anything to save his life. Now he doubted this. Looking +clown at the battered face of the miner, so lean and strong and virile, +he could not withhold a secret reluctant admiration. How was it possible +for him to sleep so easily and lightly while he lay within the shadow of +violent death? There was even a little smile about the corners of his +mouth, as if he were enjoying pleasant dreams. Never had Pablo known +another man like this one. Had he not broken the spirit of that outlaw +devil Teddy in ten minutes? Who else could shoot the heads off chickens +at a distance as he had done? Was there another in New Mexico that +could, though taken at advantage, put up so fierce a fight against big +odds? The young Mexican hated him because of Juanita and his opposition +to Miss Valdés. But the untamed and gallant spirit of the young man went +out in spite of himself in homage to the splendid courage and efficiency +of his victim.</p> + +<p>Not till the middle of the afternoon did Gordon awaken. He was surprised +to find that his hands were free. Of Menendez he asked an explanation.</p> + +<p>Pablo gave him none. How could he say that he was ashamed to keep him +tied while two armed men were in the room to watch him?</p> + +<p>"Move from that bed and I'll blow your brains out," the Mexican growled +in Spanish.</p> + +<p>Presently Pablo brought him a tin dipper filled with water.</p> + +<p>"Drink, <i>Señor</i>" he ordered ungraciously.</p> + +<p>Dick drank the last drop and smiled at his guard gratefully. "You're +white in spots, Mr. Miscreant, though you hate to think it of yourself," +he said lightly.</p> + +<p>Odd as it may seem, Gordon found a curious pleasure in exploring the +mind of the young man. He detected the struggle going on in it, and he +made remarks so uncannily wise that the Mexican was startled at his +divination. The miner held no grudge. These men were his enemies because +they thought him a selfish villain who ought to be frustrated in his +designs. Long ago, in that school of experience which had made him the +hard, competent man he was, Dick had learned the truth of the saying +that to know all is to forgive all. He himself had done bold and lawless +things often enough, but it was seldom that he did a mean one. Warily +alert though he was for a chance to escape, his feelings were quite +impersonal toward these Mexicans. Confronted with the need, he would +kill if he must to save himself; but it would not be because he was +vindictive.</p> + +<p>Dick's mind was alert to every chance of escape. He studied his +situation as well as he could without moving from the bed. From the +glimpse of the house he had had as the two men carried him in he knew +that it was a large, modern one set in grounds of considerable size. He +had been brought down a flight of steps and was now in the basement. Was +the house an unoccupied one? Or was it in the possession of some one +friendly to the scheme upon which the Mexicans had engaged?</p> + +<p>A suspicion had startled him just after the men finished eating, but he +had dismissed it as a fantasy of his excited imagination. Sebastian, +carrying out the dishes, had dropped a spoon and left it lying beside +the bed. Dick contrived, after he had wakened, to roll close to the edge +and look down. The spoon was still there. Two letters were engraved upon +the handle. They were A.V. If these stood for Alvaro Valdés, then this +must be the town house of Valencia, and she was probably a party to his +abduction.</p> + +<p>He could not without distress of heart accept such a conclusion. She was +his enemy, but she had seemed to him so frank and generous a one that +complicity in a plot of this nature had no part in the picture of her +his mind had drawn. He wrestled with the thought of this until he could +stand it no longer.</p> + +<p>"Did Miss Valdés come to town herself, or is she letting you run this +abduction, Menendez?" he asked suddenly.</p> + +<p>Pablo repeated stupidly, "Miss Valdés—the <i>señorita</i>?"</p> + +<p>The keen, hard eyes of Gordon did not lift for an instant from those of +the other man. "That's what I said."</p> + +<p>It occurred to the Mexican that this was a chance to do a stroke of +business for his mistress. He would show the confident <i>Americano</i> what +place he held in her regard.</p> + +<p>His shoulders lifted in a shrug. "You are clevair, <i>Señor</i>. How do you +know the <i>señorita</i> knows?"</p> + +<p>"This is her house. She told you to bring me here."</p> + +<p>Pablo was surprised. "So? You know it is her house?"</p> + +<p>"Surest thing you know."</p> + +<p>"The <i>señorita</i> trusts me. She is at the ranch."</p> + +<p>"But you are acting under her orders?"</p> + +<p>"If the <i>señor</i> pleases."</p> + +<p>Dick turned his back to the wall again. His heart was bitter within him. +He had thought her a sportsman, every inch a thoroughbred. But she had +set her peons to spy on him and to attack him—ten to one in their +favor—so that she might force him to sign away his rights to her. Very +well. He would show her whether she could drive him to surrender, +whether she could starve him into doing what he did not want to do.</p> + +<p>The younger Mexican wakened Sebastian late in the afternoon and left him +to guard the prisoner while he went into the town to hear what rumors +were flying about the affair. About an hour later he returned, bringing +with him some provisions, a newspaper, and a handbill. The latter he +tossed to Gordon.</p> + +<p>"Señor, I never saw five hundred dollars dangling within reach before. +Shall I go to your friend and give him information?" asked Pablo.</p> + +<p>Dick read the poster through with interest. "Good old Steve. He's +getting busy. Inside of twenty-four hours he'll ferret out this spot."</p> + +<p>"It may be too late," Pablo flung back significantly. "If they press us +hard we'll finish the job and make a run for it."</p> + +<p>They were talking in Spanish, as they did most of the time. The prisoner +read aloud the offer on the handbill.</p> + +<p>"Please notice that I'm worth no more alive than you are if I'm dead. I +reckon this town is full of friends of yours anxious to earn five +hundred plunks by giving a little information. Let me ask a question of +you. Suppose you do finish the job and hit the trail. Where would you +go?"</p> + +<p>"The hills are full of pockets. We could hide and watch a chance to get +out of the country."</p> + +<p>"We wouldn't have to hide. Jesu Cristo, who would know we did it?" +chipped in Sebastian roughly.</p> + +<p>"Everybody will know it soon. You made a bad mistake when you didn't +bump me off at the start. All your friends that helped bushwhack me will +itch to get that five hundred, Sebastian. As to hiding—well, I was a +ranger once. Offer a reward, and everybody is on the jump to earn it. +The way these hills are being combed this week by anxious man-hunters +you'd never reach your cache."</p> + +<p>"Maybe we would and maybe we wouldn't. We'll have to take a chance on +that," replied the bearded Mexican sullenly.</p> + +<p>To their prisoner it was plain that the men were I growing more anxious +every hour. They regretted the course they had followed and yet could +see no way of safety opening to them. Suspicious by nature, Sebastian +judged the American by himself. If their positions were reversed, he +knew he would break any pledge he might make and go straight to the +sheriff with his story. Therefore they could not with safety release the +man. To kill him would be dangerous. To keep him prisoner was possible +only for a limited time. Whatever course they followed seemed precarious +and uncertain. Temperamentally he was inclined to put an end to the man +and try a bolt for the hills, but he found in Pablo an unexpected +difficulty. The young man would not hear of this. He had made up his +mind riot to let Gordon be killed if he could prevent it, though he did +not tell the American so.</p> + +<p>Menendez made another trip after supplies next day, but he came back +hurriedly without them. Pesquiera's poster offering a reward of one +hundred dollars for the capture of him or Sebastian had brought him up +short and sent him scurrying back to his hole.</p> + +<p>Gordon used the poster for a text. His heart was jubilant within him, +for he knew now that Valencia was not back of this attack upon him.</p> + +<p>"All up with you now," he assured them in a genial, offhand fashion. +"Miss Valdés must be backing Pesquiera. They know you two are the guilty +villains. Inside of twelve hours they'll have you both hogtied."</p> + +<p>Clearly the conspirators were of that opinion themselves. They talked +together a good deal in whispers. Dick was of the opinion that a +proposition would be made him before morning, though it was just +possible that the scale might tip the other way and his death be voted. +He spent a very anxious hour.</p> + +<p>After dark Sebastian, who was less well known in the town than Pablo, +departed on an errand unknown to Gordon. The miner guessed that he was +going to make arrangements for horses upon which to escape. Dick was not +told their decision. Menendez had fallen sulky again and refused to +talk.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII" />CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<div class="center">MANUEL INTERFERES<br /><br /></div> + + +<p>Valencia had scarcely left the parlor to telephone for the sheriff +before Manuel flashed a knife and cut the rope that tied his prisoner's +hands.</p> + +<p>Sebastian had shrunk back at sight of the knife, but when he found that +he was free he stared at Pesquiera in startled amazement.</p> + +<p>"Come! Let's get out of here. We can talk when you are free of danger," +said Manuel with sharp authority in his voice.</p> + +<p>He led the way into the corridor, walked quickly down one passage and +along another, and so by a back stairway into the alley in the rear. +Within a few minutes they were a quarter of a mile from the El Tovar.</p> + +<p>Sebastian, still suspicious, yet aware that for some reason Don Manuel +was unexpectedly on his side, awaited explanations.</p> + +<p>"<i>Doña</i> Valdés is quite right, Sebastian. She means well, but she is, +after all, a woman. This is a man's business, and you and I can settle +it better alone." Manuel smiled with an air of frank confidence at his +former prisoner. "You are in a serious fix—no doubt at all about that. +The question is to find the best way out."</p> + +<p><i>"Si, Señor"</i>.</p> + +<p>Pesquiera's bright black eyes fastened on him as he flung a question at +the man. "I suppose this Gordon is still alive."</p> + +<p>Sebastian nodded gloomily. "He is like a cat with its nine lives. We +have beaten and starved him, but he laughs—this Gringo devil—and tells +us he will live to see us wearing stripes in prison."</p> + +<p><i>"Muy bien."</i> Manuel talked on briskly, so as to give the slower-witted +Mexican no time to get set in obstinacy. "I should be able to arrange +matters then. We must free the man after I have his word to tell +nothing."</p> + +<p>"But he will run straight to the sheriff," protested Sebastian.</p> + +<p>"Not if he gives his word. I'll see to that. Where have you him hidden?" +The young Spaniard asked the question carelessly, almost indifferently, +as if it were merely a matter of course.</p> + +<p>Sebastian opened his mouth to tell—and then closed it. He had had no +intention of telling anything. Now he found he had told everything +except their hiding-place. The suspicion which lay coiled in his heart +lifted its head like a snake. Was he being led into a trap? Would Don +Manuel betray him to the law? The gleaming eyes of the man narrowed and +grew hard.</p> + +<p>Manuel, intuitively sensing this, hurried on. "It can be a matter of +only hours now until they stumble upon your hiding-place. If this +happens before we have come to terms with Gordon you are lost. I have +come to town to save you and Pablo. But I can't do this unless you trust +me. Take me to Gordon and let me talk with him. Blindfold me if you +like. But lose no time."</p> + +<p>As Sebastian saw it, this was a chance. He knew Manuel was an honest +man. His reputation was of the best. Reluctantly he gave way.</p> + +<p>"The <i>Americano</i> is at the Valdés house," he admitted sulkily.</p> + +<p>"At the Valdés house? Why, in Heaven's name, did you take him there?"</p> + +<p>"How could we tell that the <i>Señorita</i> would come to town? The house was +empty. Pablo worked there in the stables as a boy. So we moved in."</p> + +<p>A quarter of an hour later Pablo opened the outer basement door in +answer to the signal agreed upon by them. He had left the prisoner upon +the bed with his hands tied. Sebastian entered. Pablo noticed that +another man was standing outside. Instantly his rifle covered him. For, +though others of their countrymen had been employed to help capture +Gordon, none of these knew where he was hidden.</p> + +<p>"It is Don Manuel Pesquiera," explained Sebastian. "I brought him here +to help us out of this trouble we are in. Let him in and I will tell you +all."</p> + +<p>For an instant Pablo suspected that his accomplice had sold him, but he +dismissed the thought almost at once. He had known Sebastian all his +life. He stepped aside and let Pesquiera come into the hall.</p> + +<p>The three men talked for a few minutes and then passed into the bedroom +where the prisoner was confined. Evidently this had formerly been the +apartment of the cook, who had slept in the basement in order no doubt +to be nearer her work. Pesquiera looked around and at last made out a +figure in the darkness lying upon the bed.</p> + +<p>He stepped forward, observing that the man on the bed had his hands +bound. Bending down, he recognized the face of Gordon. Beaten and +bruised and gaunt from hunger it was, but the eyes still gleamed with +the same devil-may-care smile.</p> + +<p>"Happy to meet you, Don Manuel."</p> + +<p>The Spaniard's heart glowed with admiration. He did not like the man. It +was his intention to fight him as soon as possible for the insult that +had been put upon him some weeks earlier. But his spirit always answered +to the call of courage, and Gordon's pluck was so debonair he could not +refuse a reluctant appreciation.</p> + +<p>"I regret to see you thus, Mr. Gordon," he said.</p> + +<p>"Might have been worse. Sebastian has had se-vere-al notions about +putting me out of business. I'm lucky to be still kicking."</p> + +<p>"I have come from Miss Valdés. She came to Santa Fé when she heard from +your friend Mr. Davis that you had disappeared. To-night we saw +Sebastian for the first time. He brought me here."</p> + +<p>"Good of him," commented Dick ironically.</p> + +<p>"You will be freed of course—at once." Manuel drew out his knife and +cut the cords that bound the prisoner. "But I must ask your forbearance +in behalf of Sebastian and Pablo and the others that have injured you. +May I give them your pledge not to appear as a witness against them for +what they have done?"</p> + +<p>"Fine! I'm to be mauled and starved and kidnaped, but I'm to say 'Thank +you kindly' for these small favors, hoping for a continuance of the +same. You have another guess coming, Mr. Pesquiera. I offered those +terms two days ago. They weren't accepted. My ideas have changed. I'm +going to put your friends behind the bars—unless you decide to let them +murder me instead. I've been the goat long enough."</p> + +<p>"Your complaint is just, Mr. Gordon. It iss your right to enforce the +law. Most certainly it iss your right. But consider my position. +Sebastian brought me here only upon my pledge to secure from you a +promise not to press your rights. What shall I do? I must see that you +are released. That goes without saying. But shall I break faith with him +and let him be delivered to justice? I have given my word, remember."</p> + +<p>Gordon looked up at him with his lean jaw set. "You couldn't give <i>my</i> +word, could you? Very well. Go away. Forget that you've seen me. I'll be +a clam so far as you are concerned. But if I get free I'm going to make +things hot for these lads that think they can play Ned with me. They're +going to the pen, every last one of them. I'm going to see this thing +out to a finish and find out if there's any law in New Mexico."</p> + +<p>Manuel stiffened. "You put me in an awkward position, Mr. Gordon. I have +no choice but to see you are set at liberty. But my honor is involved. +These men shall not go to prison. They have made a serious mistake, but +they are not what you call criminals. You know well——"</p> + +<p>"I know that they and their friends have shot at me, ambushed me, beaten +me, and starved me. They've been wanting to kill me ever since they got +me here—at least one of them has—but they just didn't have the guts to +do it. What is your definition of a criminal anyhow? Your friends here +fill the specifications close enough to suit me. I ain't worried about +their being too good for the company they'll join at the pen."</p> + +<p>"You are then resolve', <i>Señor</i>?"</p> + +<p>"That's what I am. I'm going to see they get the limit. I've not got a +thing against you, Mr. Pesquiera, and I'd like to oblige you if I could. +But I'm playing this hand myself."</p> + +<p>The Spaniard spoke to him in a low voice. "These men are the people of +Miss Valdés. She drove all night across the mountains to get here sooner +when she found you were gone. She offered and paid a reward of one +hundred dollars to help find you. Do you not owe something to her?"</p> + +<p>"I owe one hundred dollars and my thanks, sir. I'll pay them both. But +Miss Valdés cannot ask me to give up prosecuting these men because she +would not stand back and see murder done."</p> + +<p>"Will you then leave it to her to punish these men?"</p> + +<p>"No. I pay my own debts."</p> + +<p>Manuel was troubled. He had expected to find the prisoner so eager for +release that he would consent at once to his proposal. Instead, he found +a man hard and cold as steel. Yet he had to admit that Gordon claimed +only his rights. No man could be expected to stand without an appeal to +the law such outrageous treatment as he had been given.</p> + +<p>"Will you consent then to settle the matter with me, man to man? These +men are but peons. They are like cattle and do not think. But I—I am a +more worthy foeman. Let me take the burden of their misdeeds on my +shoulders."</p> + +<p>Dick wagged a forefinger at him warningly. "Now you've got that +swashbuckler notion of a duel again. I'm no cavalier of Spain, but a +plain American business man, Don Quixote. As for these jail-birds"—his +hand swept the room to include the Mexicans—"since I'm an unregenerate +human I mean to make 'em pay for what they've done. That's all there is +to it."</p> + +<p>Don Manuel bowed. "Very good, Mr. Gordon. We shall see. I promise you +that I shall stand between them and prison. I offer you a chance to win +the friendship of the Mexicans in the valley. You decline. So be it. I +wash my hands, sir."</p> + +<p>He turned away and gave directions to Pablo, who left the room at once. +The Spaniard called for candles and lit two. He pointedly ignored +Gordon, but sat with his hands in his pockets whistling softly a popular +air.</p> + +<p>About a quarter of an hour later Pablo returned with a hot meal on a +tray. Gordon, having done without food for two days, ate his ham and +eggs and drank his coffee with an appetite given to few men. Meanwhile +Pesquiera withdrew to the passage and laid down an ultimatum to the +Mexicans. They must take horse at once and get back to the hills above +the Rio Chama Valley. He would bring saddle horses from a stable so that +they could start within the hour and travel all night.</p> + +<p>The Mexicans listened sullenly. But they knew that the matter was now +out of their hands. Since the arrival of Pesquiera it had become +manifestly impossible to hold their prisoner longer. They agreed to the +plan of the Spaniard reluctantly.</p> + +<p>After Pablo and Sebastian had taken horse Pesquiera returned to the +prisoner.</p> + +<p>"We will, if it pleases you, move upstairs, Mr. Gordon," he announced. +"To-night I must ask you to remain in the house with me to give those +poor fools a little start on their ride for freedom. We shall find +better beds upstairs no doubt."</p> + +<p>"They're hitting the trail, are they?" Dick asked negligently as he +followed his guide.</p> + +<p>"Yes. If you'll give me your parole till morning, Mr. Gordon, I shall be +able to return to Miss Valdés and let her know that all is well. +Otherwise I shall be obliged to sit up and see that you do not get +active in interfering with the ride of Pablo and his friend."</p> + +<p>"I'll stay here till seven o'clock to-morrow morning. Is that late +enough? Then I'll see the sheriff and start things moving."</p> + +<p>Pesquiera bowed in his grand, formal manner. "The terms satisfy. I wish +Mr. Gordon a very good night's sleep. This room formerly belonged to the +brother of Miss Valdés. It is curious, but she was here airing this room +only to-day. She did not know you were in the house at the time. <i>Adios, Señor.</i>"</p> + +<p>"Good night, Mr. Pesquiera. I reckon I'm in your debt quite a bit. Sorry +we couldn't agree about this little matter of what to do with the boys."</p> + +<p>Manuel bowed again and withdrew from the room.</p> + +<p>Inside of ten minutes Gordon was fast asleep.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX" />CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<div class="center">VALENCIA ACCEPTS A RING<br /><br /></div> + + +<p>Manuel found Valencia pacing up and down the porch of the hotel in a +fever of impatience. Instantly at sight of him she ran forward quickly.</p> + +<p>"Where have you been? What have you done with Sebastian? Why did you +leave without telling me about it?" she demanded.</p> + +<p>"One question at a time, my cousin," he answered, smiling at her. "But +let us walk while I tell you."</p> + +<p>She fell into step beside him, moving with the strong, lissom tread that +came from controlled and deliberate power.</p> + +<p>"What is it you have to tell? If you were called away, why did you not +leave a message for me?" she asked, a little imperiously.</p> + +<p>"I wasn't called away, Valencia. You were excited and angry. My opinion +was that Sebastian would speak if the matter was put to him right. So I +cut the rope that tied him and we ran away through the back door of the +hotel."</p> + +<p>Her dark eyes, proud and passionate, began to smoulder. But the voice +with which she answered him was silken smooth.</p> + +<p>"I see. You pretended to be working with me—and then you betrayed me. +Is that it?"</p> + +<p>"If you like," he said with a little shrug. "I backed my judgment +against your impatience. And it turns out that I was right."</p> + +<p>"How? What has happened? Where is Sebastian?"</p> + +<p>"He is galloping toward the hills as fast as he can—at least I hope he +is. What happened is that he told me where Gordon is hidden."</p> + +<p>"Where?"</p> + +<p>"At your house. When you were there to-day you must have passed within +twenty feet of him."</p> + +<p>"But—do you mean that Pablo and Sebastian took him there?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly. They did not foresee that you would come to town, Valencia." +He added, after a moment: "I have seen Mr. Gordon, talked with him, and +released him. At this moment he is in your brother's room, probably +asleep."</p> + +<p>All the sharpness had died out of the young woman's voice when she +turned to her cousin and spoke with a humility rare to her.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, Manuel. I always know best about everything. I drive ahead +and must have my own way, even when it is not the wise one. You did just +right to ignore me."</p> + +<p>She laid her hand on his coat sleeve pleadingly, and he lifted it to his +lips.</p> + +<p>"<i>Niña</i> ... the Queen can do no wrong. But I saw you were driving +Sebastian to stubbornness. I tried to let him see we meant to be his +friends if he would let us."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you were right. Tell me everything, please." She paused just a +moment before she said quietly: "But first, what about Mr. Gordon? He is +... uninjured?"</p> + +<p>"Beaten and mauled and starved, but still of the gayest courage," +answered the Spaniard with enthusiasm. "Did I not say that he was a +hero? My cousin, I say it again. The fear of death is not in his heart."</p> + +<p>He did not see the gleam in her dark eyes, the flush that beat into her +dusky face. "Starved as well as beaten, Manuel?"</p> + +<p>"They were trying to force him to give up his claim to the valley. But +he—as I live the American is hard as Gibraltar."</p> + +<p>"They dared to starve him—to torture him. I shall see that they are +punished," she cried with the touch of feminine ferocity that is the +heritage of the south.</p> + +<p>"No need, Valencia," returned Pesquiera with a dry little laugh. "Mr. +Gordon has promised himself to attend to that."</p> + +<p>He told her the story from first to last. Intently she listened, scarce +breathing until he had finished.</p> + +<p>Manuel had told the tale with scrupulous fairness, but already her +sympathies were turning.</p> + +<p>"And he wouldn't agree not to prosecute?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"No. It is his right to do so if he likes, Valencia."</p> + +<p>She brushed this aside with an impatient wave of her hand. "Oh, his +right! Doesn't he owe something to us—to me—and especially to you?"</p> + +<p>"No, he owes me nothing. What I did was done for you, and not for him," +the Spaniard replied instantly.</p> + +<p>"Then to me at least he is in debt. I shall ask him to drop the +prosecution."</p> + +<p>"He is what his people call straight. But he is hard—hard as jade."</p> + +<p>They were walking along a dark lane unlighted save by the stars. +Valencia turned to him impetuously.</p> + +<p>"Manuel, you are good. You do not like this man, but you save him +because—because my heart is torn when my people do wrong. For me you +take much trouble—you risk much. How can I thank you?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Niña mia</i>, I am thanked if you are pleased. It is your love I seek, +Heart of mine." He spoke tremulously, taking her hands in his.</p> + +<p>For the beat of a heart she hesitated. "You have it. Have I not given my +word that—after the American was saved——?"</p> + +<p>He kissed her. Hers was a virginal soul, but full-blooded. An +unsuspected passion beat in her veins. Not for nothing did she have the +deep, languorous eyes, the perfect scarlet lips, the sumptuous grace of +an artist's ideal. Fires lay banked within her in spite of the fine +purity of her nature. Nature had poured into her symmetrical mold a rich +abundance of what we call sex.</p> + +<p>The kisses of Manuel stirred within her new and strange emotions, though +she accepted rather than returned them. A faint vague unease chilled her +heart. Was it because she had been immodest in letting him so far have +his way?</p> + +<p>When they returned to the hotel Manuel's ring was on her finger. She was +definitely engaged to him.</p> + +<p>It was long before she slept. She thought of Manuel, the man chosen it +seemed by Fate to be her mate. But she thought, too, of the lithe, +broad-shouldered young American whose eyes could be so tender and again +so hard. Why was it he persisted in filling her mind so much of the +time? Why did she both admire him and resent his conduct, trust him to +the limit one hour and distrust the next? Why was it that he—an +unassuming American without any heroics—rather than her affianced lover +seemed to radiate romance as he moved? She liked Manuel very much, she +respected him greatly, trusted him wholly, but—it was this curly-headed +youth of her mother's race that set her heart beating fast a dozen times +a day.</p> + +<p>She resolved resolutely to put him out of her mind. Had he not proved +himself unworthy by turning the head of Juanita, whom he could not +possibly expect to marry? Was not Manuel in every way worthy of her +love? Her finger touched the diamond ring upon her hand. She would keep +faith in thought as well as in word and deed.</p> + +<p>At last she fell asleep—and dreamed of a blond, gray-eyed youth +fighting for his life against a swarm of attacking Mexicans.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX" />CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<div class="center">DICK LIGHTS A CIGARETTE<br /><br /></div> + + +<p>Gordon met Miss Valdés in the El Tovar dining-room next morning. He was +trying at the same time to tell Davis the story of his kidnaping and to +eat a large rare steak with French-fried potatoes. The young man had +chosen a seat that faced the door. The instant his eyes fell upon her he +gave up both the story and the steak. Putting aside his napkin, he rose +to meet her.</p> + +<p>She had fallen asleep thinking of him, her dreams had been full of his +vivid personality, and she had wakened to an eager longing for the sight +of his gay, mocking eyes. But she had herself under such good control +that nobody could have guessed how fast her heart was beating as her +fingers touched his.</p> + +<p>"We are glad your adventure is ended, Mr. Gordon, and that it has turned +out no worse. Probably Mr. Davis has told you that he and I got our +heads together a great many times a day," she said, a little formally.</p> + +<p>"You were mighty good to take so much interest in such a scalawag," he +answered warmly.</p> + +<p>The color deepened ever so little in her face. "I couldn't let my men +commit murder under the impression they were doing me a service," she +explained lightly. "There are several things I want to talk over with +you. Can you call on me this morning, Mr. Gordon?"</p> + +<p>"Can I?"</p> + +<p>He put the question so forcefully that she smiled and dashed a bucket of +cold water over his enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>"If you'll be so good then. And bring Mr. Davis along with you, please. +He'll keep us from quarreling too much."</p> + +<p>"I'll throw him out of the window if he don't behave right," Davis +promised joyfully. He was happy to-day, and he did not care who knew it.</p> + +<p>Valencia passed on to her table, and Dick resumed his seat. He had a +strong interest in this young woman, but even the prospect of a talk +with her could not make him indifferent to the rare steak and +French-fried potatoes before him. He was a healthy normal American in +his late twenties, and after several days of starvation well-cooked food +looked very good to him.</p> + +<p>"There's some mail waiting for you upstairs—one of the letters is a +registered one, mailed at Corbett's," his friend told him as they rose +to leave. He was like a hen with one chick in his eagerness to supply +Dick's wants and in his reluctance to let Gordon out of his sight.</p> + +<p>The registered letter was the one Valencia had sent him, inclosing the +one written by her grandfather to her father. Her contrite little note +went straight to his emotions. If not in words, at least in spirit, it +pleaded for pardon. Even the telegram she had wired implied an +undeniable interest in him. Dick went with a light heart to the +interview she had appointed him.</p> + +<p>He slipped an arm through that of Davis. "Come on, you old bald-headed +chaperone. Didn't you hear the lady give you a bid to her party this +mo'ning? Get a move on you."</p> + +<p>"Ain't you going to let her invite get cold before you butt in?" +retorted Steve amiably.</p> + +<p>Valencia took away from the dining-room a heart at war with itself. The +sight of his gaunt face, carrying the scars of many wounds and the lines +marked by hunger, stirred insurgent impulses. The throb of passion and +of the sweet protective love that is at the bottom of every woman's +tenderness suffused her cheeks with warm life and made her eyes +wonderful. Out of the grave he had come back to her, this indomitable +foe who played the game with such gay courage. It was useless to tell +herself that she was plighted to a better man, a worthier one. Scamp he +might be, but Dick Gordon held her heart in the hollow of his strong +brown hand.</p> + +<p>Some impulse of shyness, perhaps of reluctance, had restrained her from +wearing Manuel's ring at breakfast. But when she returned to her room +she went straight to the desk where she had locked it and put the +solitaire on her finger. The fear of disloyalty drove her back to her +betrothed from the enticement of forbidden thoughts. She must put +Richard Gordon out of her mind. It was worse than madness to be dreaming +of him now that she was plighted to another.</p> + +<p>Gordon, coming eagerly to meet her, found a young woman more reserved, +more distant. He was conscious of this even before his eyes stopped at +the engagement ring sparkling on her finger, the visible evidence that +his rival had won.</p> + +<p>"You have been treated cruelly, Mr. Gordon. Tell me that you are again +all right," she said, the color flooding her face at the searching +question of his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Right as a rivet, thanks. It is to you I owe my freedom, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"To Manuel," she corrected. "His judgment was better than mine."</p> + +<p>"I can believe that. He didn't ride all night across dangerous mountain +roads to save me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that!" She tossed off his thanks with a little shrug. "They are so +impulsive, my boys ... like children, you know.... I was a little afraid +they might——"</p> + +<p>"I was a little afraid myself they might," he agreed dryly. "But when +you say children—well, don't you think wolves is a more accurate term +for them?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no—no!" Her protest was quick, eager, imperative. "You don't know +how loyal they can be—how faithful. They are really just like children, +so impulsive—so unreasoning."</p> + +<p>"Afraid I can't enthuse with you on that subject for a day or two yet," +he answered with a laugh. "Truth is I found their childlike impulses +both painful and annoying. Next time you see them you might mention that +I'm liable to have an impulse of my own they won't enjoy."</p> + +<p>"That's one of the things I want to talk with you about. Manuel says you +mean to prosecute. I hope you won't. They're friends of mine. They +thought they were helping me. Of course I have no claim on you, but——"</p> + +<p>"You have a claim, Miss Valdés. We'll take that up presently. Just now +we're talking about a couple of criminals due for a term in the +penitentiary. I offered them terms. They wouldn't accept. Good enough. +They'll have to stand the gaff, I reckon."</p> + +<p>She realized at once there was no use arguing with him. The steel in his +eyes told her he had made up his mind and was not to be moved. But she +could not desert her foolish dependents.</p> + +<p>"I know. What you say is quite true, but—I'll have to come to some +agreement with you. I can't let them be punished for their loyalty to +me."</p> + +<p>Her direct, unflinching look, its fearlessness, won his admiration. In +her slim suppleness, vibrant, feminine to the finger tips, alluring with +the unconscious appeal of sex, there was a fine courage to face frankly +essential facts. But he was a hard man to move once he had made up his +mind. For all his frivolous impudence and his boyish good nature, he +knew his own mind, and held to it with the stiffness characteristic of +outdoor Westerners.</p> + +<p>"You're not in this, Miss Valdés. I'll settle my own accounts with your +friends Sebastian and Pablo."</p> + +<p>"But even for your own sake——" She stopped, intuitively aware that +this was not the ground upon which to treat with him. He would never +drop the charges against the Mexicans merely because there was danger in +pressing them.</p> + +<p>"I reckon I'll have to try to look out for myself. Maybe next time I +won't be so easy a mark," he answered with an almost insolent laugh.</p> + +<p>Valencia was a little puzzled. Things were not going right, and she did +not quite know the reason. There was just a touch of bitterness in his +voice, of aloofness in his manner. She did not know that the sight of +the solitaire sparkling on her left hand stirred in him the impulse to +hurt her, to refuse rather than concede her requests.</p> + +<p>"You're not going to push the cases against Pablo and Sebastian and +still try to live in the valley, are you?" she asked, beginning to feel +a little irritation at him.</p> + +<p>"That's just what I'm going to do."</p> + +<p>"You mustn't. I won't have it. Don't you see what my people will think, +that because Pablo and Sebastian were loyal to me——"</p> + +<p>His acrid smile cut her sentence in two. "That's about the third time +you've mentioned their loyalty. Me, I don't see it. Sebastian owns land +under the Valdés grant. He didn't want me to take it from him. Mr. Pablo +Menendez—well, he had private reasons of his own, too."</p> + +<p>The resentment flamed in her heart. If he was shameless enough to refer +to the affair with Juanita she would let him know that she knew.</p> + +<p>"What were his reasons, Mr. Gordon—that is, if they are not a private +affair between you and him?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all." The steel-blue eyes met hers, steadily. Dick was yielding +to a desire to hurt himself as well as her, to defy her judgment if she +had no better sense than to condemn him. "The idiot is jealous."</p> + +<p>"Jealous—why?" The angry color beat its way to the surface above her +cheek bones. Her disdain was regal.</p> + +<p>"About Juanita."</p> + +<p>"What about Juanita?"</p> + +<p>"The usual thing, Miss Valdés. He was afraid she had the bad taste to +prefer another man to himself."</p> + +<p>Davis broke in. "Now, don't you be a goat, Dick. Miss Valdés, he——"</p> + +<p>"If you please, Mr. Davis. I'm quite sure Mr. Gordon is able to defend +himself," she replied scornfully.</p> + +<p>"Didn't know I <i>was</i> defending myself. What's the charge against me?" +asked the young miner with a touch of quiet insolence.</p> + +<p>"There isn't any—if you don't see what it is. And you're quite right, +Mr. Gordon. Your difficulties with Pablo are none of my business. You'll +have to settle them yourselves—with Juanita's help. May I ask whether +you received the registered letter I sent you, Mr. Gordon?"</p> + +<p>Dick was angry. Her cool contempt told him that he had been condemned. +He knew that he was acting like an irresponsible schoolboy, but he would +not justify himself. She might think what she liked.</p> + +<p>"Found it waiting for me this morning, Miss Valdés."</p> + +<p>"It was very fair and generous of you to send me the letter, I recognize +that fully. But of course I can't accept such a sacrifice," she told him +stiffly.</p> + +<p>"Not necessary you should. Object if I smoke here?"</p> + +<p>Valencia was a little surprised. He had never before offered to smoke in +the house except at her suggestion. "As you please, Mr. Gordon. Why +should I object?"</p> + +<p>From his coat pocket Dick took the letter Don Bartolomé had written to +his son, and from his vest pocket a match. He twisted the envelope into +a spill, lit one end, and found a cigarette. Very deliberately he puffed +the cigarette to a glow, holding the letter in his fingers until it had +burned to a black flake. This he dropped in the fireplace, and along +with it the unsmoked cigarette.<br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter"><a href="./images/254a.jpg"><img src="images/254a_th.jpg" alt="...burned to a black flake" width="374" height="600" /></a></div> + +<div class="center">Holding the letter in his fingers until it had burned to +a black flake<br /></div> + +<p><br />"Easiest way to settle that little matter," he said negligently.</p> + +<p>"I judge you're a little impulsive, too, sometimes, Mr. Gordon," +Valencia replied coldly.</p> + +<p>"I never rode all night over the mountains to save a man who was trying +to rob me of my land," he retorted.</p> + +<p>This brought a sparkle to her eyes. "I had to think of my foolish men +who were getting into trouble."</p> + +<p>"Was that why you offered a hundred dollars' reward for the arrest of +these same men?" came his indolent, satiric reply.</p> + +<p>"Don Manuel offered the reward," she told him haughtily.</p> + +<p>An impish smile was in his eyes. "At your suggestion, he tells me. And I +understand you insisted on paying the bill, Miss Valdés."</p> + +<p>"Why should he pay it? The men worked for me. They were brought up on my +father's place. They are my responsibility, not his," she claimed with +visible irritation.</p> + +<p>"And now they're my responsibility, too—until I land them in the +penitentiary," he added cheerfully.</p> + +<p>From his pocket he took a billbook and selected two fifty-dollar bills. +These he offered to Valencia.</p> + +<p>She stood very straight. "You owe me nothing, sir."</p> + +<p>"I owe you the hundred dollars you paid to get hold of Sebastian. And +I'm going to pay it."</p> + +<p>"I don't acknowledge the debt. I wanted Sebastian for his sake, not +yours. Certainly I shall not accept the money."</p> + +<p>"Just as you say. It isn't mine. Care if I smoke again?" he asked +genially.</p> + +<p>She caught his meaning in a flash. "Not at all. Burn them if you like."</p> + +<p>"Now, see here," interrupted Davis amiably. "You're both acting like a +pair of kids. I'm not going to stand for any hundred-dollar smokes, +Dick. Gimme those bills." He snatched them from his friend and put them +in his pocket. "When you two get reasonable again we'll decide whose +money it is. Till then I expect I'll draw the interest on it."</p> + +<p>"And now, since our business is ended, I think I'll not detain you any +longer, Mr. Gordon, except to warn you that it will be foolhardy to +return to the Rio Chama Valley with intentions such as you have."</p> + +<p>"Good of you to warn me, Miss Valdés. It's not the first time, either, +is it? But I'm <i>that</i> bull-headed. Steve will give me a recommend as the +most sot chump in New Mexico. Won't you Steve?"</p> + +<p>"I sure will—before a notary if you like. You've got a government mule +backed off the map."</p> + +<p>"I've done my duty, anyhow." Miss Valdés turned to the older man, and +somehow the way she did it seemed to wipe Gordon out of the picture. +"There is something I want to talk over with you, Mr. Davis. Can you +wait a few moments?"</p> + +<p>"Sure I can—all day if you like."</p> + +<p>Dick retired with his best bow. "Steve, you always was popular with the +ladies."</p> + +<p>Valencia, uncompromising, waited until he had gone. Then, swiftly, with +a little leap of impulse as it were, she appealed to Davis.</p> + +<p>"Don't let him go back to the valley. Don't let him push the cases +against Sebastian and Pablo."</p> + +<p>The old miner shook his head "Sorry, Miss Valencia. Wish I could stop +him, but I can't. He'll go his own way—always would."</p> + +<p>"But don't you see they'll kill him. It's madness to go back there while +he's pushing the criminal case. Before it was bad enough, but now——" +She threw up her hands with a gesture of despair.</p> + +<p>"I reckon you're right. But I can't help it."</p> + +<p>"Then look out for him. Don't let him ride around in the hills. Don't +let him leave the house at night. Never let him go alone. Remember that +he is in danger every hour while he remains in the valley."</p> + +<p>"I'll remember, Miss Valencia," Davis promised.</p> + +<p>He wondered as he walked away why the talk between Dick and Miss Valdés +had gone so badly. He knew his friend had come jubilantly, prepared to +do anything she asked of him. The fear and anxiety that had leaped to +her face the instant Gordon had gone showed him that the girl had a deep +interest in the young man. She, too, had meant to meet him half way in +wiping out the gulf between them. Instead, they had only increased it.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI" />CHAPTER XXI</h2> + +<div class="center">WHEN THE WIRES WERE CUT<br /><br /></div> + + +<p>Don Manuel rode into the moonlit plaza of the Valdés ranch, dismounted, +and flung the reins to the boy that came running. Pesquiera nodded a +careless greeting and passed into the house. He did not ask of anyone +where Valencia was, nor did he send in a card of announcement. A lover's +instinct told him that he would find her in the room that served both as +an office and a library for her, seated perhaps before the leaping +fireglow she loved or playing softly on the piano in the darkness.</p> + +<p>The door was open, and he stood a moment on the threshold to get +accustomed to the dim light.</p> + +<p>A rich, low-pitched voice came across the room to him.</p> + +<p>"It is you, Manuel?"</p> + +<p>He stepped swiftly forward to the lounge upon which she was lying and +knelt on one knee beside her, lifting her hand to his lips. "It is I, +<i>corazon mia</i>, even Manuel the lucky."</p> + +<p>She both smiled and sighed at that. A chord in her responded to the +extravagance of his speech, even though vaguely it did not quite +satisfy. A woman of the warm-blooded south and no plaster saint, she +answered presently with shy, reluctant lips the kisses of her lover. Why +should she not? Had he not won her by meeting the test she had given +him? Was he not a gallant gentleman, of her own race and caste, bound to +her by ties of many sorts, in every way worthy to be the father of her +children? If she had to stifle some faint, indefinable regret, was it +not right that she should? Her bridges were burned behind her. He was +the man of her choice. She listened, eyes a little wistful, while he +poured out ardently the tale of his devotion.</p> + +<p>"You do love me, don't you, Manuel?" she demanded, a little fiercely. It +was as if she wanted to drown any doubts she might have of her own +feeling in the certainty of his.</p> + +<p>"More than life itself, I do believe," he cried in a low voice.</p> + +<p>Her lithe body turned, so that her shining eyes were close to his.</p> + +<p>"Dear Manuel, I am glad. You don't know how worried I've been ... still +am. Perhaps if I were a man it would be different, but I don't want my +people to take the life of this stranger. But they mean him +harm—especially since he has come back and intends to punish Pablo and +Sebastian. I want them to let the law take its course. Something tells +me that we shall win in the end. I've talked to them—and talked—but +they say nothing except 'Si, doña.' But with you to help me——"</p> + +<p>"They'd better not touch him again," broke in her lover swiftly.</p> + +<p>"It's a great comfort to me, Manuel, that you have blotted out your own +quarrel with him. It was magnanimous, what I should expect of you."</p> + +<p>He said nothing, but the hand that lay on hers seemed suddenly to +stiffen. A kind of fear ran shivering through her. Quickly she rose from +the couch.</p> + +<p>"Manuel, tell me that I am right, that you don't mean to ... hurt him?" +Her dark eyes searched his unflinchingly. "You don't mean ... you can't +mean ... that——?"</p> + +<p>"Let us forget the American and remember only that we love, my beloved," +he pleaded.</p> + +<p>"No ... No!" The voice of the girl was sharp and imperative. "I want the +truth. Is it that you are still thinking of murdering him, Manuel?"</p> + +<p>The sting of her words brought a flush to his cheeks. "I fight fair, +Valencia. I set against his life my own, with all the happiness that has +come flooding it. Nor is it that I seek the man's life. For me he might +live a thousand years—and welcome. But my honor——"</p> + +<p>"No, Manuel. No—no—no! I will not have it. If you are betrothed to me +your life is mine. You shall not risk it in a barbarous duel."</p> + +<p>"Let us change the subject, dear heart."</p> + +<p>"Not till I hear you say that you have given up this wicked intention of +yours."</p> + +<p>He gave up the attempt to evade her and met her fairly as one man does +another.</p> + +<p>"I can't say that, Valencia, not even for you. This quarrel lies between +him and me. I have suffered humiliation and disgrace. Until those are +wiped out there must be war between me and the American."</p> + +<p>"Since the day I first wore your ring, Manuel, I have asked nothing of +you. I ask now that you will forget the slight this man has put upon you +... because I ask it of you with all my heart."</p> + +<p>A slight tremor ran through his blood. He felt himself slipping from his +place with her.</p> + +<p>"I can't, Valencia. You don't know what you ask, how impossible it is +for me—a Pesquiera, son of my honored fathers—to grant such a +request." He stretched his hands toward her imploringly.</p> + +<p>"Yet you say you love me?"</p> + +<p>"Heaven knows whether it is not true, my cousin."</p> + +<p>"You want me to believe that, even though you refuse the first real +request I ever made of you?"</p> + +<p>"Anything else in the world that is in my power."</p> + +<p>"It is easy to say that, Manuel, when it isn't something else I want. +Give me this American's life. I shall know, then, that you love me."</p> + +<p>"You know now," he answered quietly.</p> + +<p>"Is love all sighs and vows?" she cried impatiently. "Will it not +sacrifice pride and vanity for the object of its devotion?"</p> + +<p>"Everything but honor," answered the man steadfastly.</p> + +<p>She made a gesture of despair.</p> + +<p>"What is this honor you talk so much about? It is neither Christian nor +lawful nor right."</p> + +<p>"It is a part of me, Valencia."</p> + +<p>"Then your ideas are archaic. The duel was for a time when every man had +to seek his personal redress. There is law in this twentieth century."</p> + +<p>"Not as between man and man in the case of a personal indignity—at +least, not for Manuel Pesquiera."</p> + +<p>"But it is so needless. We know you are brave; he knows it, too. Surely +your vanity——"</p> + +<p>He smiled a little sadly.</p> + +<p>"I think it is not vanity, but something deeper. None of my ancestors +could have tolerated this stigma, nor can their son. My will has nothing +to do with it, and my desire still less. It is kismet."</p> + +<p>"Then you must know the truth—that if you kill this man I can +never——"</p> + +<p>"Never what?"</p> + +<p>"Never marry you."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"His blood would stand between us."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean that you—love him?"</p> + +<p>Her dark eyes met his steadily.</p> + +<p>"I don't think I mean that, Manuel. How could I mean that, since I love +you and am betrothed to you? Sometimes I hate him. He is so insolent in +his daring. Then, too, he is my enemy, and he has come here to set this +happy valley to hate and evil. Yet, if I should hurt him, it would stand +between us forever."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry."</p> + +<p>"Only sorry, Manuel?"</p> + +<p>He clamped his teeth on the torrent of protest that rose within him when +she handed him back his ring. It would do no good to speak more. The +immutable fact stood between them.</p> + +<p>"I did not know life could be so hard—and cruel," she cried out in a +burst of passion.</p> + +<p>She went to the open window and looked out upon the placid, peaceful +valley. She had a swift, supple way of moving, as if her muscles +responded with effortless ease to her volition; but the young man +noticed that to-night there was a drag to her motions.</p> + +<p>His heart yearned toward her. He longed mightily to take her in his arms +and tell her that he would do as she wished. But, as he had said, +something in him more potent than vanity, than pride, than his will, +held him to the course he had set for himself. His views of honor might +be archaic and ridiculous, but he lived by his code as tenaciously as +had his fathers. Gordon had insulted and humiliated him publicly. He +must apologize or give him satisfaction. Until he had done one or the +other Manuel could not live at peace with himself. He had put a powerful +curb upon his desire to wait as long as he had. Circumstances had for a +time taken the matter out of his hands, but the time had come when he +meant to press his claims. The American might refuse the duel; he could +not refrain from defending himself when Pesquiera attacked.</p> + +<p>A step sounded in the doorway, and almost simultaneously a voice.</p> + +<p>"<i>Doña,</i> are you here?"</p> + +<p>The room was lighted only by the flickering fire; but Valencia, her eyes +accustomed to the darkness, recognized the boy as Juan Gardiez.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am here, Juan. What have you to tell me?" she said quickly.</p> + +<p>"I do not know, <i>señorita</i>. But the men—Pablo, Sebastian; all of +them—are gone."</p> + +<p>"Gone where?" she breathed.</p> + +<p>"I do not know. To-day I drove a cow and calf to Willow Springs. I am +but returned. The houses are empty. Señor Barela's wife says she saw men +riding up the hill toward Corbett's—eight, nine, ten of them."</p> + +<p>"To Corbett's?" She stared whitely at him without moving. "How long +ago?"</p> + +<p>"An hour ago—or more."</p> + +<p>"Saddle Billy at once and bring him round," the girl ordered crisply.</p> + +<p>She turned as she spoke and went lightly to the telephone. With the need +of action, of decision, her hopelessness was gone. There was a hard, +bright light in her eyes that told of a resolution inflexible as +tempered steel when once aroused.</p> + +<p>"Give me Corbett's—at once, please. Hallo, Central—Corbett's——"</p> + +<p>No answer came, though she called again and again.</p> + +<p>"There must be something wrong with the telephone," suggested Don +Manuel.</p> + +<p>She dropped the receiver and turned quietly to him.</p> + +<p>"The wires have been cut."</p> + +<p>"But, why? What is it all about?"</p> + +<p>"Merely that my men are anticipating you. They have gone to murder the +American. Deputy sheriffs from Santa Fé to-day came here to arrest Pablo +and Sebastian. The men suspected and were hidden. Now they have gone to +punish Mr. Gordon for sending the officers."</p> + +<p>She could not have touched him more nearly. He came to her with burning +eyes.</p> + +<p>"How do you know? What makes you think so?"</p> + +<p>She told him, briefly and simply, giving more detailed reasons.</p> + +<p>Without a word, he turned and left her. She could hear him rushing +through the hall, traced his progress by the slamming of the door, and +presently caught sight of him running toward the corral. He did not +hear, or heed, her call for him to wait.</p> + +<p>The girl hurried out of the house after him, in time to see him slap a +saddle on his bronco, swing to his seat lightly, and gallop in a cloud +of dust to the road.</p> + +<p>Valencia waited for no more. Quickly running to her room, she slipped on +a khaki riding-skirt. Her deft, tapering fingers moved swiftly, so that +she was ready, crop in hand, booted and spurred, by the time Juan +brought round her horse.</p> + +<p>It took but an instant to lift herself to the saddle and send Billy +galloping forward.</p> + +<p>Already her cousin had disappeared in great clouds of dust over the brow +of the hill.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII" />CHAPTER XXII</h2> + +<div class="center">THE ATTACK<br /><br /></div> + + +<p>Dick Gordon and Davis were sitting on the porch of their cabin, which +was about an eighth of a mile from the main buildings of the Corbett +place. They had returned the day before from Santa Fé, along with two +deputy sheriffs who had come to arrest Pablo and Sebastian. The officers +had scoured the valley for two days, and as yet had not caught a glimpse +of the men they had come to get. Their inquiries were all met by a +dogged ignorance on the part of the Mexicans, who had of a sudden turned +surprisingly stupid. No, they had seen nothing of Pablo or of Sebastian. +They knew nobody of that name—unless it was old Pablo Gardiez the +<i>señors</i> wished to see. Many strangers desired to see him, for he was +more than a hundred years old and still remembered clearly the old days.</p> + +<p>Gordon laughed at the discomfiture of his sleuths. "I dare say they may +have been talking to the very men they wanted. But everybody hangs +together in this valley. I'm going out with them myself to-morrow after +the gentlemen the law requires."</p> + +<p>"No, I wouldn't do that, Dick. With every greaser in the valley +simmering against you, it won't do for you to go trapsing right down +among them," Davis explained.</p> + +<p>"That's where I'm going, anyhow—to-morrow morning. The deputies are +staying up at Morrow's. I'm going to phone 'em to-night that I'll ride +with them to-morrow. Bet you a new hat we flush our birds."</p> + +<p>"What's the sense of you going into the police business, Dick? I'll tell +you what's ailing you. You're just honing to see Miss Valdés again. You +want to go grand-standing around making her mad at you some more."</p> + +<p>"You're a wiz, Steve," admitted his friend dryly. "Maybe you're right. +Maybe I do want to see her again. Why shouldn't I?"</p> + +<p>"What good does it do you when you quarrel all the time you're together? +She's declared herself already on this proposition—told the deputies +flat-footed that she wouldn't tell them anything and would help her boys +to escape in any way she could. You're just like a kid showing off his +muscle before a little girl in the first grade."</p> + +<p>"All right, Steve. You don't hear me denying it."</p> + +<p>"Denying it," snapped the old miner. "Hmp! Lot of good that would do. +You're fair itching to get a chance to go down to the ranch and swagger +around in plain sight of her lads. You'd be tickled to death if you +could cut out the two you want and land them here in spite of her and +Don Manuel and the whole pack of them. Don't I know you? Nothing but +vanity—that's all there's to it."</p> + +<p>"He's off," murmured Dick with a grin to the scenery.</p> + +<p>"You make me tired. Why don't you try a little horse sense for a change? +Honest, if you was a few years younger I'd put you acrost my knee and +spank you."</p> + +<p>Gordon lit a cigarette, but did not otherwise contribute to the +conversation.</p> + +<p>"Ain't she wearing another man's ring?" continued Davis severely. +"What's bitin' you, anyhow? How many happy families you want to break +up? First off, there's Pablo and Juanita. You fill up her little noodle +with the notion that——"</p> + +<p>Dick interrupted amiably. "Go to grass, you old granny. I've been +putting in my spare time since I came back letting Juanita understand +the facts. If she had any wrong notions she ain't got them any longer. +She's all ready to kiss and make up with Pablo first chance she gets."</p> + +<p>"Then there's Miss Valdés and this Pesky fellow, who's the whitest brown +man I ever did see. Didn't he run his fool laigs off getting you free so +you could go back and make love to his girl?"</p> + +<p>"He's the salt of the earth. I'm for Don Manuel strong. But I don't +reckon Miss Valdés would work well in harness with him," explained Dick.</p> + +<p>Steve Davis snorted. "No, you reckon Dick Gordon would, though. Don't +you see she's of his people—same customs, same ways, same——"</p> + +<p>"She's no more of his people than she is of mine. Her mother was an +American girl. She was educated in Washington. New Mexico is in America, +not in Spain. Don't forget that, you old croaker."</p> + +<p>"Well, she's engaged, ain't she? And to a good man. It ain't your put +in."</p> + +<p>"A good one, but the wrong one. It's a woman's privilege to change her +mind. I'm here to help her change it," announced the young man calmly. +"Say, look at Jimmie Corbett hitting the high spots this way."</p> + +<p>Jimmie, not yet recovered from a severe fright, stopped to explain the +adventure that had befallen him while he had been night fishing.</p> + +<p>"I seen spooks, Mr. Gordon—hundreds of 'em—coming down the river bank +on horseback—honest to goodness, I did."</p> + +<p>"Jimmie, if I had your imagination——"</p> + +<p>But Davis cut into Dick's smiling incredulity:</p> + +<p>"Did you say on horseback, Jimmie?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, on horseback. Hope to die if they weren't—'bout fifty of +them."</p> + +<p>"You better run along home before they catch you, Jimmie," advised the +old miner gravely.</p> + +<p>The boy went like a streak of light. Davis turned quietly to his +partner.</p> + +<p>"I reckon it's come, Dick."</p> + +<p>"You believe the boy did see some men on horseback? It might have been +only shadows."</p> + +<p>"No, sir. His imagination wouldn't have put spooks <i>on horseback</i>. We +got no time to argue. You going to hold the fort here or take to the +hills?"</p> + +<p>"You think they mean to attack us in the open?"</p> + +<p>"They're hoping to surprise us, I reckon. That's why they're coming +along the creek instead of the road. Hadn't 'a' been for Jimmie, they +would have picked us off from the porch before we could say 'Jack +Robinson.'"</p> + +<p>Both men had at once stepped within the log cabin, and, as they talked, +were strapping on ammunition belts and looking to their rifles and +revolvers.</p> + +<p>"There are too many doors and windows to this cabin. We can't hold it +against them. We'll take the trail from the back door that leads up to +the old spring. From up there we'll keep an eye on them," said Dick.</p> + +<p>"I see 'em coming," cried the older man softly from the front window. +"They ain't on the trail, but slipping up through the rocks. +One—two—three—four—Lord, there's no end to the beggars! They're on +foot now. Left their hawsses, I expect, down by the river."</p> + +<p>Quietly the two men stepped from the back door of the cabin and swiftly +ascended the little trail that rose at a sharp acclivity to the spring. +At some height above the cabin, they crouched behind boulders and +watched the cautious approach of the enemy.</p> + +<p>"Not taking any chances, are they?" murmured Gordon.</p> + +<p>Steve laughed softly.</p> + +<p>"Heard about that chicken-killing affair, mebbe, and none of them +anxious to add a goose to the exhibit."</p> + +<p>"It would be right easy to give that surprise party a first-class +surprise," chuckled Dick. "Shall I drop a pill or two down among them, +just to let them know we're on the premises?"</p> + +<p>"Now, don't you, Dick. We'll have to put half of 'em out of biz, and get +shot up by the rest, if you do."</p> + +<p>"All right. I'll be good, Steve. I was only joking, anyhow. But it +ce'tainly is right funny to sit up here and watch them snake up to the +empty cabin. See that fellow with the Mexican hat? I believe it's my +jealous friend Pablo. He's ce'tainly anxious to get one Gringo's scalp. +I could drop a stone down on him so he'd jump about 'steen feet."</p> + +<p>"There's one reached the window. He's looking in mighty careful, you +bet. Now he's beckoning the other fellows. I got a notion he's made a +discovery."</p> + +<p>"Got on to the fact that the nest's empty. They're pouring in like bees. +Can you make out how many there are? I count nine," said Dick.</p> + +<p>"They're having a powwow now. All talking with their hands, the way +greasers do. Go to it, boys. A regular debating society, ain't you?"</p> + +<p>"Hello! What's that mean?" broke in Gordon.</p> + +<p>One of the Mexicans had left the rest, and was running toward the +Corbett house.</p> + +<p>"Gone to find whether we're on the porch with the family, up there," +continued the young man, answering his own question.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with beating it while we've got a chanct?"</p> + +<p>"I'm going to stay right here. You can go if you like, Steve?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, well. I just suggested it." Davis helped himself to a chew of +tobacco placidly.</p> + +<p>"Fellow coming back from the house already," he presently added.</p> + +<p>"Got the wrong address again. They'll be happening on the right one +pretty soon."</p> + +<p>"Soon as they're amply satisfied we ain't under the beds, or hid between +the covers of some of them magazines. Blamed if they ain't lit a lamp."</p> + +<p>Gordon gave a sudden exclamation of dismay. A Mexican had appeared at +the back door of the cottage with a tin box in his hand.</p> + +<p>"I'm the blamedest idiot out of an asylum," he cried bitterly. "All the +proofs of my claim are in that box. You know I brought it back from +Santa Fé with me."</p> + +<p>"Ain't that too bad?"</p> + +<p>Gordon rose, the lines of his mouth set fast and hard.</p> + +<p>"I'm going down after it. If I lose those papers, the whole game's +spoilt for me. I've got to have them, and I'm going to."</p> + +<p>"Don't be a goat. How can you take it from a whole company of them?"</p> + +<p>"I'll watch my chance. It may be the fellow will hide it somewhere till +he wants it again."</p> + +<p>"I'm going, too, then."</p> + +<p>"See here, Steve. Be sensible. If we both go down, it's a sure thing +they will stumble on us."</p> + +<p>"Too late, anyhow. They're coming up after us."</p> + +<p>"So much the better. We'll cut across to the left, slip down, and take +them in the rear. Likely as not we'll find it there."</p> + +<p>"All right. Whatever you say, Dick."</p> + +<p>They slipped away into the semi-darkness, taking advantage of every bit +of cover they could find. Not until they were a long stone's throw from +the trail did the young miner begin the descent.</p> + +<p>Occasionally they could hear voices over to the right as they silently +slipped down. It was no easy thing to negotiate that stiff mountainside +in the darkness, where a slip would have sent one of them rolling down +into the sharp rock-slide beneath. Presently they came to a rockrim, a +sheer descent of twenty-five feet down the perpendicular face of a +cliff.</p> + +<p>They followed the ledge to the left, hoping to find a trough through +which they might discover a way down. But in this they were +disappointed.</p> + +<p>"We'll have to go back. There's a place we passed where perhaps it may +be done. We've got to try it, anyhow," said Gordon, in desperation.</p> + +<p>Retracing their steps, they came to the point Dick had meant. It looked +bad enough, in all conscience, but from the rocks there jutted halfway +down a dwarf oak that had found rooting in a narrow cleft.</p> + +<p>The young man worked his body over the edge, secured a foothold in some +tiny scarp that broke the smoothness of the face, and groped, with one +hand and then the other, for some hold that would do to brace his +weight. He found one, lowered himself gingerly, and tested another +foothold in a little bunch of dry moss.</p> + +<p>"All right. My rifle, Steve."</p> + +<p>It was handed down. At that precise moment there came to them the sound +of approaching voices.</p> + +<p>"Your gun, Steve! Quick. Now, then, over you come. That's right—no, the +other hand—your foot goes there—easy, now."</p> + +<p>They stood together on a three-inch ledge, their heels projecting over +space. Nor had they reached this precarious safety any too soon, for +already their pursuers were passing along the rim above.</p> + +<p>One of them stopped on the edge, scarce eight feet above them.</p> + +<p>"They must have come this way," he said to a companion. "But I expect +they're hitting the trail about a mile from here."</p> + +<p>"<i>Si, Pablo</i>. Can you feed me a cigareet?" the other asked.</p> + +<p>The men below, scarce daring to breathe, waited, while the matches +glimmered and the cigarettes puffed to a glow. Every instant they +anticipated discovery; and they were in such a position that, if it +came, neither of them could use his weapons. For they were cramped +against the wall with their rifles by their sides, so bound by the +situation that to have lifted them to aim would have been impossible.</p> + +<p>"The American—he has escaped us this time," one of them said as they +moved off.</p> + +<p>"<i>Maldito</i>, the devil has given him wings to fly away," replied Pablo.</p> + +<p>After the sound of their footsteps had died, Gordon resumed his descent. +He reached the stunted oak in safety, and was again joined by his +friend.</p> + +<p>"Looks like we're caught here, Steve. There ain't a sign of a foothold +below," the younger man whispered.</p> + +<p>"Mebbe the branches of that tree will bend over."</p> + +<p>"We'll have to try it, anyhow. If it breaks with me, I'll get to the +bottom, just the same. Here goes."</p> + +<p>Catching hold of the branches, he swung down and groped with his feet +for a resting-place.</p> + +<p>"Nothing doing, Steve."</p> + +<p>"What blamed luck!"</p> + +<p>"Hold on! Here's a cleft, away over to the right. Let me get a hold on +that gun to steady me. That's all right. The rest's easy. I'll give you +a hand across—that's right. Now we're there."</p> + +<p>At the very foot of the cliff an unexplainable accident occurred. Dick's +rifle went off with noise enough to wake the seven sleepers.</p> + +<p>"Come on, Steve. We got to get out of here," he called to his partner, +and began to run down the hill toward their cabin.</p> + +<p>He covered ground so fast that the other could not keep up with him. +From above there came the crack of a rifle, then another and another, as +the men on the ridge sighted their prey. A spatter of bullets threw up +the dirt around them. Dick felt a red-hot flame sting his leg, but, +though he had been hit, to his surprise he was not checked.</p> + +<p>Topping the brow of a little rise, he caught sight of the cabin, and, to +his consternation, saw that smoke was pouring from the door and that +within it was alight with flames.</p> + +<p>"The beggars have set fire to it," he cried aloud.</p> + +<p>So far as he could see, four men had been left below. They did not at +first catch sight of him as he dodged forward in the shadows of the +alders at the foot of the hill. Nor did they see him even when he +stopped among the rocks at the rear, for their eyes were on Davis and +their attention focused upon him.</p> + +<p>He had come puffing to the brow of the hillock Gordon had already +passed, when a shout from the ridge apprised those below of his +presence. Cut off above and below, there was nothing left for Steve but +a retreat down the road. He could not possibly advance in the face of +four rifles, and he knew, too, that the best aid he could offer his +friend was to deflect the attention of the watchers from him.</p> + +<p>He fell back promptly, running from boulder to boulder in his retreat, +pursued cautiously by the enemy. His ruse would have succeeded +admirably, so far as Dick was concerned, except for that young man +himself. He could not sit quiet and see his friend the focus of the +fire.</p> + +<p>Wherefore, it happened that the attackers of Davis were halted +momentarily by a disconcerting fusillade from the rear. The "American +devil" had come out into the open, and was dropping lead among them.</p> + +<p>At this juncture a rider galloped into view from the river gorge along +which wound the road. He pulled his jaded horse to a halt beside the old +miner and leaped to the ground.</p> + +<p>Without waiting an instant for their fire to cease, he ran straight +forward toward the pursuing Mexicans.</p> + +<p>As he came into the moonlight, Dick saw with surprise that the newcomer +was Don Manuel Pesquiera. He was hatless, apparently too unarmed. But +not for a second did this stop him as he sprinted forward.</p> + +<p>Straight for the spitting rifles Don Manuel ran, face ablaze with anger. +He had covered half the distance before the weapons wavered groundward.</p> + +<p>"Don Manuel!" cried Sebastian, perturbed by this apparition flying +through the night toward them.</p> + +<p>Dick waited only long enough to make sure that hostilities had for the +moment ceased against his friend before beginning his search for the tin +box.</p> + +<p>He quartered back and forth over the ground behind the burning house +without result, circled it rapidly, his eyes alert to catch the shine of +the box in the moonbeams, and examined the space among the rocks at the +base of the hill. Nowhere did he see what he wanted.</p> + +<p>"I'll have to take a whirl at the house. Some of them may have carried +it back inside," he told himself.</p> + +<p>As he stepped toward the door, Don Manuel came round the corner. At his +heels were Steve and the four Mexicans who had but a few minutes before +been trying industriously to exterminate the miner.</p> + +<p>Don Manuel bowed punctiliously to Gordon.</p> + +<p>"I beg to express my very great regrettance at this untimely attack," he +said.</p> + +<p>"Don't mention it, <i>don</i>. This business of chasing over the hills in the +moonlight is first-class for the circulation of the blood, I expect. +Most of us got quite a bit of exercise, first and last."</p> + +<p>Dick spoke with light irony; but one distraught half of his attention +was upon the burning house.</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless, you will permeet me to regret, <i>señor</i>," returned the +young Spaniard stiffly.</p> + +<p>"Ce'tainly. You're naturally sore that you didn't get first crack at me. +Don't blame you a bit," agreed Dick cheerfully but absently. "Funny +thing is that one of your friends happened to send his message to my +address, all right. Got me in the left laig, just before you butted in +and spoiled their picnic so inconsiderate."</p> + +<p>"You are then wounded, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Not worth mentioning, <i>don</i>. Just a little accident. Wouldn't happen +again in a thousand years. Never did see such poor shots as your valley +lads. Say, will you excuse me just a minute? I got some awful important +business to attend to."</p> + +<p>"Most entirely, Señor Gordon."</p> + +<p>"Thanks. Won't be a minute."</p> + +<p>To Pesquiera's amazement, he dived through the door, from which smoke +poured in clouds, and was at once lost to sight within.</p> + +<p>"He is a madman," the Spaniard murmured.</p> + +<p>"Or devil," added Sebastian significantly. "You will see, <i>señor</i>, he +will come out safe and unharmed."</p> + +<p>But he did not come out at all, though the minutes dragged themselves +away one after another.</p> + +<p>"I'm going after him," cried Davis, starting forward.</p> + +<p>But Don Manuel flung strong arms about him, and threw the miner back +into the hands of the Mexicans.</p> + +<p>"Hold him," he cried in Spanish.</p> + +<p>"Let me go. Let me go, I say!" cried the miner, struggling with those +who detained him.</p> + +<p>But Pesquiera had already gone to the rescue. He, too, plunged through +the smoke. Blinded unable to breathe, he groped his way across the door +lintel into the blazing hut.</p> + +<p>The heat was intense. Red tongues of flame licked out from all sides +toward him. But he would not give up, though he was gasping for breath +and could not see through the dense smoke.</p> + +<p>A sweep of wind brushed the smoke aside for an instant, and he saw the +body of his enemy lying on the floor before him. He stooped, tried to +pick it up, but was already too far gone himself.</p> + +<p>Almost overcome, he sank to his knees beside Gordon. Close to the floor +the air was still breathable. He filled his lungs, staggered to his +feet, and tried to drag the unconscious man across the threshold with +him.</p> + +<p>A hundred fiery dragons sprang unleashed at him. The heat, the stifling +smoke were more than flesh and blood could endure. He stumbled over a +fallen chair, got up and plowed forward again, still with that dead +weight in his arms; collapsed again, and yet once more pulled himself to +his feet by the sheer strength of the dogged will in him.</p> + +<p>So, at last, like a drunken man, he reeled into safety, the very hair +and clothes of the man on fire from the inferno he had just left.</p> + +<p>A score of eager hands were ready to relieve him of his burden, to +support his lurching footsteps. Two of them were the strong brown hands +of the woman he loved more than any other on earth, the woman who had +galloped into sight just in time to see him come staggering from that +furnace with the body of the man who was his hated rival. It was her +soft hands that smothered the fire in his hair, that dragged the burning +coat from his back.</p> + +<p>He smiled wanly, murmured "Valencia," and fainted in her arms.</p> + +<p>Gordon clutched in his stiffened fingers a tin box blistered by the +heat.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII" />CHAPTER XXIII</h2> + +<div class="center">THE TIN BOX<br /><br /></div> + + +<p>Dick Gordon lay on a bed in a sunny south room at the Corbett place.</p> + +<p>He was swathed in bandages, and had something the appearance of a relic +of the Fourth of July, as our comic weeklies depict Young America the +day after that glorious occasion. But, except for one thing which he had +on his mind, the Coloradoan was as imperturbably gay as ever.</p> + +<p>He had really been a good deal less injured than his rescuer; for, +though a falling rafter had struck him down as he turned to leave the +hut, this very accident had given him the benefit of such air as there +had been in the cabin. Here and there he had been slightly burned, but +he had not been forced to inhale smoke.</p> + +<p>Wound in leg and all, the doctor had considered him out of danger long +before he felt sure of Don Manuel.</p> + +<p>The young Spaniard lay several days with his life despaired of. The most +unremitting nursing on the part of his cousin alone pulled him through.</p> + +<p>She would not give up; would not let his life slip away. And, in the +end, she had won her hard fight. Don Manuel, too, was on the road to +recovery.</p> + +<p>While her cousin had been at the worst, Valencia Valdés saw the wounded +Coloradoan only for a minute of two each day; but, with Pesquiera's +recovery, she began to divide her time more equitably.</p> + +<p>"I've been wishing I was the bad case," Dick told her whimsically when +she came in to see him. "I'll bet I have a relapse so the head nurse +won't always be in the other sick room."</p> + +<p>"Manuel is my cousin, and he has been very, very ill," she answered in +her low, sweet voice, the color in her olive cheeks renewed at his +words.</p> + +<p>The eyes of the Anglo-Saxon grew grave.</p> + +<p>"How is Don Manuel to-night?"</p> + +<p>"Better. Thank Heaven."</p> + +<p>"That's what the doctor told me."</p> + +<p>Dick propped himself on an elbow and looked directly at her, that +affectionate smile of his on his face.</p> + +<p>"Miss Valdés, do you know, ever since I've been well enough, I've been +hoping that if one of us had to cross the Great Divide it would be me?"</p> + +<p>Her troubled eyes studied him.</p> + +<p>"Why do you say that?"</p> + +<p>"Because it would seem more right that way. I came here and made all +this trouble in the valley. I insulted him. I had in mind another hurt +to him that we won't discuss just now. Then, when it comes to a +showdown, he just naturally waltzes into Hades and saves my life for me +at the risk of his own. No, ma'am, I sure couldn't have stood it if he +had died."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you feel that way," she answered softly, her eyes dim.</p> + +<p>"How else could I feel, and be a white man? I tell you, it makes me feel +mean to think about that day I threw him in the water. Just because I'm +a great big husky, about the size of two of him, I abused my strength +and——"</p> + +<p>"Just a moment," the girl smiled. "You are forgetting he struck you +first."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well! I reckon I could have stood that."</p> + +<p>"Will you be willing to tell him how you feel about it?"</p> + +<p>"Will I? Well, I guess yes."</p> + +<p>The young woman's eyes were of starry radiance. "I'm so glad—so happy. +I'm sure everything will come right, now."</p> + +<p>He nodded, smiling.</p> + +<p>"That's just the way I feel, Miss Valencia. They couldn't go wrong, +after this—that is, they couldn't go clear wrong."</p> + +<p>"I'm quite certain of that."</p> + +<p>"I want to go on record as saying that Manuel Pesquiera is the gamest +man I know. That isn't all. He's a thoroughbred on top of it. If I live +to be a hundred I'll never be as fine a fellow. My hat's off to him."</p> + +<p>There was a mist in her soft eyes as she poured a glass of ice water for +him. "I'm so glad to hear you say that. He <i>is</i> such a splendid fellow."</p> + +<p>He observed she was no longer wearing the solitaire and thought it might +be to spare his feelings. So he took the subject as a hunter does a +fence.</p> + +<p>"I wish you all the joy in the world, Miss Valdés. I know you're going +to be very happy. I've got my wedding present all picked out for you," +he said audaciously.</p> + +<p>She was busy tidying up his dresser, but he could see the color flame +into her cheeks.</p> + +<p>"You have a very vivid imagination, Mr. Gordon."</p> + +<p>"Not necessary in this case," he assured her.</p> + +<p>"You're quite sure of that, I suppose," she suggested with a touch of +ironic mockery.</p> + +<p>"I haven't read any announcement in the paper," he admitted.</p> + +<p>"It is always safe to wait for that."</p> + +<p>"Which is another way of saying that it is none of my business. But then +you see it is." He offered no explanation of this statement, nor did he +give her time to protest. "Now about that wedding present, Miss Valdés. +It's in a tin box I had in the cabin before the fire. Can you tell me +whether it was saved? My recollection is that I had it at the time the +rafter put me to sleep. But of course I don't remember anything more +till I found myself in bed here."</p> + +<p>"A tin box? Yes; you had it in your hands when Manuel brought you out. +They could hardly pry your fingers from it."</p> + +<p>"Would you mind having that box brought to me, Miss Valdés? I want to be +sure the present hasn't been injured by fire."</p> + +<p>"Of course not. I don't just know where it is, but it must be somewhere +about the place."</p> + +<p>She was stepping toward the door, with that fine reaching grace of a +fawn that distinguished her, when his voice stopped her. She stopped, +delicate head poised and half turned, apparently waiting for further +directions.</p> + +<p>"Not just this minute, please. I've been lying here all day, with nobody +but Steve. Finally he got so restless I had to turn him out to pasture. +It wouldn't be right hospitable to send you away so soon. That box can +wait till you have had all of me you can stand. What I need is good +nursing, and I need it awful bad," he explained plaintively.</p> + +<p>"Has Mrs. Corbett been neglecting you?"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Corbett—no!" he shouted with a spirit indomitable, but a voice +still weak. "She's on earth merely to cook me chicken broth and custard. +It's you that's been neglecting me."</p> + +<p>The gleam of a strange fire was in her dark, bright eyes; in her cheeks +the soft glow of beating color.</p> + +<p>"And <i>my</i> business on earth is to fight you, is it not? But I can't do +that till you are on your feet again, sir."</p> + +<p>He gave her back her debonair smile.</p> + +<p>"I'm not so sure of that. Women fight with the weapons of their sex—and +often win, I'm told."</p> + +<p>"You mean, perhaps, tears and appeals for pity. They are weapons I +cannot use, sir. I had liefer lose."</p> + +<p>"I dare say there are other weapons in your arsenal. I know you're too +game to use those you've named."</p> + +<p>"What others?" she asked quietly.</p> + +<p>He let his eyes rest on her, sweep over her, and come back to the +meeting with hers. But he did not name them. Instead, he came to another +angle of the subject.</p> + +<p>"You never know when you are licked, do you? Why don't you ask me to +compromise this land grant business?"</p> + +<p>"What sort of a compromise have you to offer, sir?" she said after a +pause.</p> + +<p>"Have your lawyers told you yet that you have no chance?"</p> + +<p>"Would it be wise for me to admit I have none, before I go to discuss +the terms of the treaty?" she asked, and put it so innocently that he +acknowledged the hit with a grin.</p> + +<p>"I thought that, if you knew you were going to lose, you might be easier +to deal with. I'm such a fellow to want the whole thing in my bargains."</p> + +<p>"If that's how you feel, I don't think I'll compromise."</p> + +<p>"Well, I didn't really expect you would. I just mentioned it."</p> + +<p>"It was very good of you. Now I think I'll go back to my cousin."</p> + +<p>"If you must I'm coming over to his room as soon as the doc will let me, +and as soon as he'll see me."</p> + +<p>She gave him a sudden flash of happy eyes. "I hope you will. There must +be no more trouble between him and you. There couldn't be after this, +could there?"</p> + +<p>He shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Not if it takes two to make a quarrel. He can say what he wants to, +make a door-mat out of me, go gunning after me till the cows come home, +and I won't do a thing but be a delegate to a peace conference. No, +ma'am. I'm through."</p> + +<p>"You don't know how glad I am to hear it."</p> + +<p>"Are you as anxious I should make up my quarrel with you as the ones +with your friends?" he asked boldly.</p> + +<p>The effrontery of this lean, stalwart young American—if effrontery it +was, and no other name seemed to define it—surprised another dash of +roses into the olive.</p> + +<p>"The way to make up your quarrel with me is to make up those with my +friends," she answered.</p> + +<p>"All right. Suits me. I'll call those deputies off and send them home. +Pablo and Sebastian will never go to the pen on my evidence. They're in +the clear so far as I'm concerned."</p> + +<p>She gave him both her hands. "Thank you. Thank you. I'm <i>so</i> glad."</p> + +<p>The tears rose to her eyes. She bit her lip, turned and left the room.</p> + +<p>He called after her:</p> + +<p>"Please don't forget my tin box."</p> + +<p>"I'll remember your precious box," she called back with a pretense of +scorn.</p> + +<p>He laughed to himself softly. There was sunshine in his eyes.</p> + +<p>She had resolved to leave him to Mrs. Corbett in future, but within the +hour she was back.</p> + +<p>"I came about your tin box. Nobody seems to know where it is. Everybody +remembers having seen it in your hands. I suppose we left it on the +ground when we brought you to the house, but I can't find anybody that +removed it. Perhaps some of my people have seen it. I'll send and ask +them."</p> + +<p>He smiled disconsolately.</p> + +<p>"I may as well say good-bye to it."</p> + +<p>"If you mean that my boys are thieves," she retorted hotly.</p> + +<p>"I didn't say that, ma'am; but mebbe I did imply they wouldn't return +that particular box, when they found what was in it. I shouldn't blame +them if they didn't."</p> + +<p>"I should. Very much. This merely shows you don't understand us at all, +Mr. Gordon."</p> + +<p>"I wish I had that box. It ce'tainly disarranges my plans to have it +gone," he said irritably.</p> + +<p>"I assure you I didn't take it."</p> + +<p>"I don't lay it to you, though it would ce'tainly be to your advantage +to take it," he laughed, already mollified.</p> + +<p>"Will you please explain that?"</p> + +<p>"All my claims of title to this land grant are in that box, Miss +Valdés," he remarked placidly, as if it were a matter of no consequence.</p> + +<p>She went white at his words.</p> + +<p>"And it is lost—probably in the hands of my people. We must get it +back."</p> + +<p>"But you're on the other side of the fence," he reminded her gaily.</p> + +<p>With dignity she turned on him.</p> + +<p>"Do you think I want to beat you that way? Do you think I am a +highwayman, or that I shall let my people be?"</p> + +<p>"You make them draw the line between murder and robbery," he suggested +pleasantly.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't stop them from attacking you, but I can see they don't keep +your papers—all the more, that it is to their interest and mine to keep +them."</p> + +<p>She said it with such fine girlish pride, her head thrown a little back, +her eyes gleaming, scorn of his implied distrust in her very carriage. +For long he joyfully carried the memory of it.</p> + +<p>Surely, she was the rarest creature it had ever been his fortune to +meet. Small wonder the gallant Spaniard Don Manuel loved her. Small +wonder her people fed on her laughter, and were despondent at her +frowns.</p> + +<p>Dick Gordon was awake a good deal that night, for the pain and the fever +were still with him; but the hours were short to him, full of joy and +also of gloom. Shifting pictures of her filled the darkness. His +imagination saw her in many moods, in many manners. And when from time +to time he dropped into light sleep, it was to carry her into his +dreams.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV" />CHAPTER XXIV</h2> + +<div class="center">DICK GORDON APOLOGIZES<br /><br /></div> + + +<p>Don Manuel was at first too spent a man even to wish to get well. As his +cousin's nursing dragged him farther and farther back into this world +from which he had so nearly slipped, he was content to lie still and +take the goods the gods provided.</p> + +<p>She was with him for the present. That sufficed. Whether he lived or +died he did not care a hand's turn; but the while Fate flipped a coin to +determine whether it should be life or death for him, he had Valencia's +love as he feared he would never have it in case he recovered.</p> + +<p>For these days she lived for him alone. Her every thought and desire had +been for him. On this his soul fed, since he felt that, as they slipped +back into the ordinary tide of life, she would withdraw herself gently +but surely from him.</p> + +<p>He had fought against the conviction that she loved his rival, the +Colorado claimant to the valley. He had tried to persuade himself that +her interest in the miner was natural under the circumstances and +entirely independent of sentiment. But in the bottom of his heart such +assurances did not convince.</p> + +<p>"You will be able to sit up in a few days. It's wonderful how you have +improved," she told him one day as she finished changing his pillow.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I shall be well soon. You will be relieved of me," he said with a +kind of gentle sadness.</p> + +<p>"As if I wanted to be," she reproved softly, her hand smoothing down his +hair.</p> + +<p>"No. You're very good to me. You don't want to be rid of me. But it's +best you should be. I have had all of you that's good for me, my cousin, +unless I could have more than I dare hope."</p> + +<p>She looked through the window at the sunlit warmth of the land, and, +after a long time, said:</p> + +<p>"Must we talk of that, Manuel?"</p> + +<p>"No, <i>niña</i>—not if I am once sure. I have guessed; but I must be +certain beyond the possibility of mistake. Is my guess right? That it +can never be."</p> + +<p>She turned dim eyes on him and nodded. A lump had risen to her throat +that forbade speech.</p> + +<p>"I can still say, dearest, that I am glad to have loved you," he +answered cheerfully, after an instant's silence. "And I can promise that +I shall trouble you no more. Shall we talk of something else?"</p> + +<p>"There is one thing I should like to tell you first," she said with +pretty timidity. "How proud I am that such a man could have loved me. +You are the finest man I know. I must be a foolish girl not to—care for +you—that way."</p> + +<p>"No. A woman's heart goes where it must. If a man loses, he loses."</p> + +<p>She choked over her words. "It doesn't seem fair. I promised. I wore +your ring. I said that if you saved ... him ... I would marry you. +Manuel, I ... I'll keep faith if you'll take me and be content to wait +for ... that kind of love to grow."</p> + +<p>"No, my cousin. I have wooed and lost. Why should you be bound by a +pledge made at such a time? As your heart tells you to do, so you must +do." He added after a pause: "It is this American, is it not?"</p> + +<p>Again she nodded twice, not looking at him lest she see the pain in his +eyes.</p> + +<p>"I wish you joy, Valencia—a world full of it, so long as life lasts."</p> + +<p>He took her fingers in his, and kissed them before he passed lightly to +another subject:</p> + +<p>"Have you heard anything yet of the tin box of Mr. Gordon's?"</p> + +<p>She accepted the transition gratefully, for she was so moved she was +afraid lest she break down.</p> + +<p>"Not yet. It is strange, too, where it has gone. I have had inquiries +made every where."</p> + +<p>"For me, I hope it is never found. Why should you feel responsibility to +search for these papers that will ruin you and your tenants?"</p> + +<p>"If my men had not attacked and tried to murder him he would still have +his evidence. I seek only to put him in the position he was in before we +injured him."</p> + +<p>"You must judge for yourself, Valencia. But, if you don't mind, I shall +continue to wish you failure in your search," he replied.</p> + +<p>It was now that Jimmie Corbett came into the room to say that Mr. Gordon +would like to call on Don Manuel, if the latter felt able to receive +him.</p> + +<p>Pesquiera did not glance at his cousin. He answered the boy at once.</p> + +<p>"Tell Mr. Gordon I shall be very glad to see him," he said quietly.</p> + +<p>Nor did he look at her after the boy had left the room, lest his gaze +embarrass her, but gave his attention wholly to propping himself up on +his elbow.</p> + +<p>Dick stood a moment filling the doorway before he came limping into the +room. From that point he bowed to Miss Valdés, then moved forward to the +bed.</p> + +<p>He did not offer to shake hands, but stood looking down at his rival, +with an odd look of envy on his face. But it was the envy of a brave and +generous man, who acknowledged victory to his foe.</p> + +<p>"I give you best, Don Manuel," he finally said. "You've got me beat at +every turn of the road. You saved my life again, and mighty near paid +with your own. There ain't anything to say that will cover that, I +reckon."</p> + +<p>The Spaniard's eyes met his steadily, but Pesquiera did not say a word. +He was waiting to see what the other meant.</p> + +<p>"You're a gamer man than I am, and a better one. All I can say is that +I'm sorry and ashamed of myself for the way I treated you. If you still +want to fight me, I'll stand up and give you a chance to pepper me. +Anything you think right."</p> + +<p>"If you put it so, sir, I have no choice but to join you in regrets and +hopes of future amity."</p> + +<p>"I can understand that you'd like to spill me over a ten-acre lot, and +that you don't listen to my apologies with any joy," said the +Coloradoan, smiling whimsically down at his former foe.</p> + +<p>"I do not forget that the first offense was mine, <i>Señor Gordon</i>," the +Spaniard answered.</p> + +<p>Then came Jimmie Corbett again with a message for Miss Valdés.</p> + +<p>"Pablo wants to see you, ma'am. Just rode over from the ranch. Says it's +important."</p> + +<p>The hands of the two men met in a strong grip as Valencia left the room, +and so, too, did their steady gazes. Each of them knew that the other +was his rival for the heart of the girl. Oddly enough, each thought the +other was the successful suitor. But there was in each some quality of +manliness that drew them together in spite of themselves.</p> + +<p>Valencia found Pablo sitting on the porch. A rifle lay across his knees +ready for emergencies. The deputies had ridden away to the other end of +the valley that morning, but Menendez did not intend to be caught +napping in case of their unexpected return.</p> + +<p>Miss Valdés smiled. "You needn't be so careful, Pablo. I bring you good +news—better than you deserve. Mr. Gordon has promised to drop the cases +against you and Sebastian. Even if the officers arrest you, nothing can +come of it except a trip to Santa Fé for a few days. If I were you I +would give myself up. The rewards have been withdrawn, so it is not +likely your friends will betray you."</p> + +<p>"But, <i>Doña</i>, are you sure? Will this <i>Americano</i> keep his word? Is it +certain they will not hold me in prison?"</p> + +<p>"I tell you it is sure. Is that not enough? Did you find Mr. Gordon so +ready to give you his word and break it when he was your prisoner?"</p> + +<p>"True, <i>Doña</i>. He laughed at us and told us to kill him. He is a brave +man."</p> + +<p>"And brave men do not lie."</p> + +<p>Pablo turned to his horse and took down from the horn of the saddle a +gunny sack tied to it. This he opened. From it he drew a tin box that +had been badly blistered with heat.</p> + +<p>"It is <i>Señor</i> Gordon's tin box. After you carried him to the house here +the other night I found it under a cottonwood. So I took it home with +me. They are papers. Important—— Is it not so?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I have been looking everywhere for them. You did right to bring +them back to me."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps they may help you win the land. Eh, <i>Doña</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps. You know I offered a reward of twenty-five dollars for the +box. It is yours. Buy some furniture with it when you and Juanita go to +housekeeping."</p> + +<p>"That is all past, alas, <i>Señorita</i>. Juanita looks down her nose when I +am near. She does not speak to me."</p> + +<p>"Foolish boy! That is a sign she thinks much of you. Tell her you did +wrong to accuse her. Beg her to forgive you. Do not sulk, but love her +and she will smile on you."</p> + +<p>"But—this <i>Señor</i> Gordon?"</p> + +<p>"All nonsense, Pablo. I have talked with Juanita. It is you she loves. +Go to her and be good to her. She is back there in the milkhouse +churning. But remember she is only a girl—so young, and motherless, +too. It is the part of a man to be kind and generous and forbearing to a +woman. He must be gentle—always gentle, if he would hold her love. Can +you do that, Pablo? Or are you only a hot-headed, selfish, foolish boy?"</p> + +<p>"I will try, <i>Doña</i>," he answered humbly. "For always have I love' her +since she was such a little <i>muchacha</i>."</p> + +<p>"Then go. Don't tell her I sent you. She must feel you have come because +you could no longer stay away."</p> + +<p>Pablo flashed his teeth in a smile of understanding and took the path +that led round the house. He followed it to the sunken cellar that had +been built for a milkhouse. Noiselessly he tiptoed down the steps and +into the dark room. The plop-plop of a churn dasher told him Juanita was +here even before his eyes could make her out in the darkness.</p> + +<p>Presently he saw more clearly the slender figure bent a little wearily +over the churn. Softly he trod forward. His hand went out and closed on +the handle above hers. In startled surprise she turned.</p> + +<p>"You—Pablo!" she cried faintly.</p> + +<p>"I have so longed to see you—to come to you and tell you I was wrong, +<i>niña</i>—— Oh, you don't know how I have wanted to come. But my +pride—my hard, foolish pride—it held me back. But no longer, heart of +my heart, can I wait. Tell me that you forgive—that you will love me +again—in spite of what I said and have done. I cannot get along without +my little Juanita," he cried in the soft Spanish that was native to them +both.</p> + +<p>She was in his arms, crying softly, nestling close to him so that his +love might enfold her more warmly. Always Juanita had been a soft, +clinging child, happy only in an atmosphere of affection. She responded +to caresses as a rose does to the sunlight. Pablo had been her first +lover, the most constant of them all. She had relied upon him as a child +does upon its mother. When he had left her in anger and not returned she +had been miserably unhappy. Now all was well again, since Pablo had come +back to her.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV" />CHAPTER XXV</h2> + +<div class="center">THE PRINCE CONSORT<br /><br /></div> + + +<p>Valencia returned to Don Manuel's room carrying a gunny sack. She found +Dick Gordon sitting beside his rival's bed amiably discussing with him +the respective values of the Silver Doctor and the Jock Scott for night +fishing. Dick rose at her entrance to offer a chair.</p> + +<p>She was all fire and animation. Her eyes sparkled, reflecting light as +little wavelets of a sun-kissed lake.</p> + +<p>"Supreme Court decision just come down in your favor?" asked the other +claimant to the valley with genial irony.</p> + +<p>"No, but—guess what I've got here."</p> + +<p>"A new hat," hazarded Gordon, furrowing his brow in deep thought.</p> + +<p>"Treason!" protested Manuel. "Does the lady live who would put her new +hat in a gunny sack?"</p> + +<p>"You may have three guesses, each of you," replied Miss Valdés, +dimpling.</p> + +<p>The miner guessed two guinea pigs, a million dollars, and a pair of +tango slippers. Pesquiera went straight to the mark.</p> + +<p>"A tin box," he said.</p> + +<p>"Right, Manuel. Pablo brought it. He had just heard I was looking for +the box—says he found it the night of the fire and took it home with +him. His idea was that we might use the papers to help our fight."</p> + +<p>"Good idea," agreed the Cripple Creek man, with twinkling eyes. "What +are you going to do with the papers now you have them, Miss Valdés?"</p> + +<p>"Going to give them to their owner," she replied, and swung the sack +into his lap.</p> + +<p>He took out a bunch of keys from his pocket, fitted one to the lock of +the box, and threw up the lid. Carefully he looked the papers over.</p> + +<p>"They are all here—every last one. I'm still lord of the Rio Chama +Valley—unless my lawyers are fooling me mighty bad."</p> + +<p>"It's a difference of opinion that makes horse races, <i>Señor</i>," retorted +Manuel gaily from his pillows.</p> + +<p>"I'll bet one of Mrs. Corbett's cookies there's no difference of opinion +between my lawyers and those of Miss Valdés. What do you honestly think +yourself about the legal end, ma'am?"</p> + +<p>"I think that law and justice were divorced a good many years ago," she +answered promptly.</p> + +<p>"Which is another way of saying that you expect me to win out."</p> + +<p>"By advice of counsel we decline to make any admissions, sir."</p> + +<p>"You don't have to say a word. The facts do all the talking that is +necessary." Gordon glanced in a business-like fashion over several +papers. "This would be a fine time for friend Pablo to attack me again. +Here are several of the original papers—deed of the grant, map of it +with the first survey made, letters showing that old Moreño lived +several years in the valley after your people were driven out at the +time of the change in government. By the way, here's a rather +interesting document. Like to look at it, Miss Valdés?"</p> + +<p>He handed to her a paper done up in a blue cover after the fashion of +modern legal pleadings. Valencia glanced it over. Her eye caught at a +phrase which interested her and ran rapidly down the page.</p> + +<p>"But—I don't understand what this means—unless——"</p> + +<p>She looked up quickly at Gordon, an eager question in her face.</p> + +<p>"It means what it says, though it's all wrapped up in dictionary words +the way all law papers are."</p> + +<p>Valencia passed the document to Pesquiera. "Read that, and tell me what +you think it means, Manuel." Her face was flushed with excitement, and +in her voice there was a suggestion of tremulousness.</p> + +<p>The Spaniard read, and as he read his eyes, too, glowed.</p> + +<p>"It means, my cousin, that you have to do with a very knightly foe. By +this paper he relinquishes all claim, title and interest in the Moreño +grant to Valencia Valdés, who he states to be in equity the rightful +owner of same. Valencia, I congratulate you. But most of all I +congratulate Mr. Gordon. Few men have the courage to make a gift of a +half million acres of land merely because they have no moral title to +it."</p> + +<p>"Sho! I never did want the land, anyhow. I got interested in the scrap. +That's all." The miner looked as embarrassed as if he had been caught +stealing a box of cigars.</p> + +<p>The young woman had gone from pink to white. The voice in which she +spoke was low and unsteady.</p> + +<p>"It's a splendid thing to do—the gift of a king. I don't know—that I +can accept it—even for the sake of my people. I know now you would be +fair to them. You wouldn't throw them out. You would give new deeds to +those who have bought land, wouldn't you?"</p> + +<p>"How are you going to keep from accepting it, Miss Valdés? That paper is +a perfectly legal document."</p> + +<p>She smiled faintly. "I could light a cigarette, Mr. Gordon, as you once +did."</p> + +<p>"Not a bit of use. I wired to Santa Fé by Steve to have that paper—the +original of it—put on record this afternoon. By this time I expect +you're the princess of the Rio Chama all right."</p> + +<p>She still hesitated, the tide of feeling running full in her heart. It +was all very well for this casual youth to make her a present of a half +million acres of land in this debonair way, but she could not persuade +herself to accept so munificent a gift.</p> + +<p>"I don't know—I'll have to think—if you are the legal owner——"</p> + +<p>"You're welching," he told her amiably. "I make a legal deed of +conveyance because we are all agreed that my title isn't morally good. +We're not a bunch of pettifoggers. All of us are aiming to get at what's +right in settling this thing. You know what is right. So do I. So does +Mr. Pesquiera. Enough said. All we have to do then is to act according +to the best we know. Looks simple to me."</p> + +<p>"Maybe it wouldn't look so simple if you were at the other end of the +bargain, Mr. Gordon. To give is more blessed than to receive, you know."</p> + +<p>"Sure. I understand that. I get the glory and do all the grand-standing. +But you'll have to stand for it, I reckon."</p> + +<p>"I'm going to think it over. Then I'll let you know what I can do." She +looked at him sharply, a new angle of the situation coming home to her. +"You meant to do this from the first, Mr. Gordon."</p> + +<p>"Not quite from the first. After you had taken me to your ranch and I +had seen how things stood between you and the folks in the valley I did. +You've smoked me, ma'am. I'm a born grand-stander." He laughed in +amusement at himself. "I wanted to be it, the hero of the piece, the +white-haired boy. But that wasn't the way it panned out. I was elected +villain most unanimous, and came mighty near being put out of business a +few times before I could make the public <i>sabe</i> I was only play acting. +Funny how things work out. Right at the last when I've got the spotlight +all trained for me to star and the music playing soft and low, Don +Manuel here jumps in and takes the stage from me by rescuing the villain +from a fiery furnace. I don't get any show," he complained whimsically.</p> + +<p>Valencia smiled. "The action of the play has all revolved around you, +anyhow. That ought to satisfy you. Without you there wouldn't have been +any entertainment at all."</p> + +<p>"I've had plenty of fun for my money. I'm not making any complaint at +all. When a pretender invades a country to put the reigning queen out of +business he has a license to expect a real warm welcome. Well, I got +it."</p> + +<p>Once again Jimmie Corbett appeared in the doorway, this time with a +yellow envelope which he handed to Gordon.</p> + +<p>Dick read the enclosed telegram and passed it to Pesquiera.</p> + +<p>The Spaniard waved his hand and made a feeble attempt at a cheer.</p> + +<p>"Am I to hear the good news?" Valencia asked.</p> + +<p>"Read it, Mr. Pesquiera."</p> + +<p>Manuel read:<br /></p> + +<blockquote><div><br /> +"Relinquishment of claim to Moreño grant in favor of Valencia +Valdés filed ten minutes ago. Have you taken my advice in regard to +consolidation? +<div class="right">KATE UNDERWOOD." <br /></div> + +<br /></div></blockquote> + +<p><br />"What does she mean about a consolidation?" asked Miss Valdés.</p> + +<p>Dick flushed. "Oh, that was just something we were talking over—some +foolishness or other, I reckon. Nothing to it. The important point is +that the legal fight is over. You're now the owner of both the Valdés +and the Moreño claims."</p> + +<p>"<i>Le roi est mort! Vive la reine</i>!" cried Manuel gaily.</p> + +<p>"I can't be said to have had a very peaceful reign. Wish you better +luck, ma'am." He let his eyes rest drolly on the invalid for a moment. +"And I hope when you take a prince consort to share the throne he'll +meet all expectations—which I'm sure he will."</p> + +<p>Dick shook hands with the bright-eyed flushing girl.</p> + +<p>She laughed in the midst of her blushes. "<i>Gracias, señor!</i> I'll save +your good wishes till they are needed."</p> + +<p>"<i>Adios, Don</i> Manuel. See you to-morrow if you're up to it. I expect +you've had enough excitement for one day."</p> + +<p>"I'll let you know then whether I can accept your gift, Mr. Gordon," +Valencia told him.</p> + +<p>"That's all settled," he assured her as he left.<br /></p> + +<p>It was in the evening that he saw her again. Dick had stopped in the +hall on the way to his room to examine a .303 Savage carbine he found +propped against the wall. He had picked the weapon up when a voice above +hailed him. He looked up. Valencia was leaning across the balustrade of +the stairway.</p> + +<p>"I want to talk with you, Mr. Gordon."</p> + +<p>"Same here," he answered promptly. "I mean I want to talk with you. +Let's take a walk."</p> + +<p>"No. You're not up to a walk. We'll drive. My rig is outside."</p> + +<p>Ten minutes later they were flying over the hard roads packed with +rubble from decomposed sandstone. Neither of them spoke for some time. +He was busy with the reins, and she was content to lean back and watch +him. To her there was something very attractive about the set of his +well-modeled head upon the broad shoulders. He had just been shaved, and +the scent of the soap wafted to her a pleasant sense of intimacy with +his masculinity. She could see the line above which the tiny white hairs +grew thick on the bronzed cheeks. A strange delight stirred in her +maiden heart, a joy in his physical well-being that longed for closer +contact.</p> + +<p>None of this reached the surface when she spoke at last.</p> + +<p>"I can't let things go the way you have arranged them, Mr. Gordon. It +isn't fair. After the way I and my people have treated you I can't be +the object of such unlimited generosity at your hands."</p> + +<p>"Justice," he suggested by way of substitution.</p> + +<p>"No, generosity," she insisted. "Why should you be forced to give way to +me? What have I done any more than you to earn all this?"</p> + +<p>"Now you know we've all agreed——"</p> + +<p>"Agreed!" she interrupted sharply. "We've taken it for granted that I +had some sort of divine right. When I look into it I see that's silly. +We're living in America, not in Spain of the seventeenth century. I've +no right except what the law gives me."</p> + +<p>"Well, the law's clear now. I'm tired of being shot at and starved and +imprisoned and burned to make a Mexican holiday. I'm fed up with the +excitement your friends have offered me. Honest, I'm glad to quit. I +don't want the grant, anyhow. I'm a miner. We've just made a good strike +in the Last Dollar. I'm going back to look after it."</p> + +<p>"You can't make me believe anything of the kind, Mr. Gordon. I know +you've made a strike, but you had made it before you ever came to the +valley. Mr. Davis told me so. We simply couldn't drive you out. That's +all humbug. You want me to have it—and I'm not going to take it. That's +all there is to it, sir."</p> + +<p>He smiled down upon her. "I never did see anyone so obstinate and so +changeable. As long as I wanted the land you were going to have it; now +I don't want it you won't take it. Isn't that just like a woman?"</p> + +<p>"You know why I won't take it. From the very first you've played the +better part. We've mistreated you in every way we could. Now you want to +drown me in a lake of kindness. I just can't accept it. If you want to +compromise on a fair business basis I'll do that."</p> + +<p>"You've got a first-rate chance to be generous, too, Miss Valdés. I'm +like a kid. I want to put this thing over my way so that I'll look big. +Be a nice girl and let me have my own way. You know I said my wedding +present was in that tin box. Don't spoil everything. Show me that you do +think we're friends at last."</p> + +<p>"We're friends—if you're sure you forgive me," she said shyly.</p> + +<p>"Nothing in the world to forgive," he retorted cheerfully. "I've had the +time of my life. Now I must go home and get to work."</p> + +<p>"Yes," she agreed quietly, looking straight in front of her.</p> + +<p>He drove in silence for a mile or two before he resumed the +conversation.</p> + +<p>"Of course I'll want to come back for the wedding if you send me an +invitation. I think a good deal of the prince consort, you know. He's +one man from the ground up."</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p>"He's the only man I know that's good enough for you. The more I see of +him the better I like him. He's sure the gamest ever, a straight-up man +if ever there was one."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad of that." She flashed a little sidelong look at him and +laughed tremulously. "It's good of you to pick me a husband you can +endorse so heartily. Would you mind telling me his name—if it isn't a +secret?"</p> + +<p>"You know mighty well, but I reckon all girls play the game of making +believe it isn't so for a while. All right. You don't have to admit it +till the right time. But you'll send me a card, won't you?"</p> + +<p>Her eyes, shyly daring, derided him. "That's no fair, Mr. Gordon. You go +out of your way to pick a prince consort for me—a perfect paragon I'm +given to understand—and then you expect me to say 'Thank you kindly, +sir,' without even being told his name."</p> + +<p>He smiled. "Oh, well, you can laugh at me all you like."</p> + +<p>"But I'm not laughing at you," she corrected, her eyes dancing. "I'm +trying to find out who this Admirable Crichton is. Surely I'm within my +rights. This isn't Turkey, you know. Perhaps I mayn't like him. Or, more +important still, he may not like me."</p> + +<p>"Go right ahead with your fun. Don't mind me."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe you've got a prince consort for me at all. If you had +you wouldn't dodge around like this."</p> + +<p>At that instant he caught sight by chance of her ungloved left hand. +Again he observed that the solitaire was missing. His eyes flashed to +hers. A sudden hope was born in his heart. He drew the horse to a halt.</p> + +<p>"Are you telling me that——? What about Don Manuel?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>Now that the crisis was upon her, she would have evaded it if she could. +Her long lashes fluttered to the hot cheeks.</p> + +<p>"He is my cousin and my friend—the best friend I have," she answered in +a low voice.</p> + +<p>"No more than that?"</p> + +<p>"No more." She lifted her eyes and tried to meet his boldly. "And now I +really think you've been impudent enough, don't you?"</p> + +<p>He imprisoned her hands in his. "If it isn't Don Manuel who is it?"</p> + +<p>She knew her eyes had failed her, that they had told him too much. An +agony of shyness drenched her from head to foot, but there was no escape +from his masterful insistence.</p> + +<p>"Will you let me go ... please?"</p> + +<p>"No—not till you tell me that you love me, Valencia, not till you've +made me the happiest man alive."</p> + +<p>"But ..."</p> + +<p>He plunged forward, an insurgent hope shaking his imperturbability.</p> + +<p>"Is it yes, dear? Don't keep me waiting. Do I win or lose, Valencia?"</p> + +<p>Bravely her eyes lifted to his. "I love you with all my heart and soul. +I always have from the first. I always shall as long as life lasts," she +murmured.</p> + +<p>Swept away by the abandon of her adorable confession, he caught her in +his arms and drew her to him. Close as breathing he held her, her heart +beating against his like a fluttering bird. A delicious faintness +overcame her. She lay in his embrace, wonderfully content.</p> + +<p>The dewy eyes lifted again to his. Of their own volition almost their +lips met for the first kiss.</p> + +<p class="center"><br />THE END</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's A Daughter of the Dons, by William MacLeod Raine + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DAUGHTER OF THE DONS *** + +***** This file should be named 15542-h.htm or 15542-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/5/5/4/15542/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Bruce Thomas and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at www.pgdp.net. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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