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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/29694-8.txt b/29694-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..977b057 --- /dev/null +++ b/29694-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12642 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Treasure Trail, by Marah Ellis Ryan + +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: The Treasure Trail + A Romance of the Land of Gold and Sunshine + +Author: Marah Ellis Ryan + +Illustrator: Robert Amick + +Release Date: August 15, 2009 [EBook #29694] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TREASURE TRAIL *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +[Illustration: "I'll hit any trail with you--barring Mexican politics." +[Page 19]] + + + + +THE TREASURE TRAIL + +A ROMANCE OF THE LAND OF GOLD AND SUNSHINE + +By + +MARAH ELLIS RYAN + +Illustrated by Robert Amick + +Publishers Chicago + +A. C. McCLURG & CO. + +1918 + + + + +Copyright + +A. C. McCLURG & CO. + +1918 + +Published November, 1918 + +Copyrighted in Great Britain + + + + +To Kalatoka of the brown tent + + + + +CONTENTS + + CHAPTER PAGE + I KIT AND THE GIRL OF THE LARK CALL 1 + II THE RED GOLD LEGEND 15 + III A VERIFIED PROPHECY OF SEÑORITA BILLIE 54 + IV IN THE ADOBE OF PEDRO VIJIL 66 + V AN "ADIOS"--AND AFTER 73 + VI A DEAD MAN UNDER THE COTTONWOODS 90 + VII IN THE PROVINCE OF ALTAR 107 + VIII THE SLAVE TRAIL 124 + IX A MEETING AT YAQUI WELL 133 + X A MEXICAN EAGLET 144 + XI GLOOM OF BILLIE 161 + XII COVERING THE TRAIL 167 + XIII A WOMAN OF EMERALD EYES 186 + XIV THE HAWK OF THE SIERRAS 217 + XV THE "JUDAS" PRAYER AT MESA BLANCA 230 + XVI THE SECRET OF SOLEDAD CHAPEL 256 + XVII THE STORY OF DOÑA JOCASTA 288 + XVIII RAMON ROTIL DECIDES 300 + XIX THE RETURN OF TULA 328 + XX EAGLE AND SERPENT 346 + XXI EACH TO HIS OWN 360 + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + PAGE + "I'll hit any trail with you--barring Mexican + politics." _Frontispiece_ + "You poor kid, you have a hard time with the + disreputables you pick up." 76 + "No, Ramon! No!" she cried, and flung herself between + him and his victims. 280 + The Indian girl was steadily gaining on the German. 356 + + + + +THE TREASURE TRAIL + +CHAPTER I + +KIT AND THE GIRL OF THE LARK CALL + + +In the shade of Pedro Vijil's little brown adobe on the Granados +rancho, a horseman squatted to repair a broken cinch with strips of +rawhide, while his horse--a strong dappled roan with a smutty +face--stood near, the rawhide bridle over his head and the quirt +trailing the ground. + +The horseman's frame of mind was evidently not of the sweetest, for to +Vijil he had expressed himself in forcible Mexican--which is supposed +to be Spanish and often isn't--condemning the luck by which the cinch +had gone bad at the wrong time, and as he tinkered he sang softly an +old southern ditty: + + _Oh--oh! I'm a good old rebel, + Now that's just what I am! + For I won't be reconstructed + And I don't care a damn!_ + +He varied this musical gem occasionally by whistling the air as he +punched holes and wove the rawhide thongs in and out through the +spliced leather. + +Once he halted in the midst of a strain and lifted his head, +listening. Something like an echo of his own notes sounded very close, +a mere shadow of a whistle. + +Directly over his head was a window, unglazed and wooden barred. A fat +brown olla, dripping moisture, almost filled the deep window sill, but +the interior was all in shadow. Its one door was closed. The Vijil +family was scattered around in the open, most of them under the +_ramada_, and after a frowning moment of mystification the young +fellow resumed his task, but in silence. + +Then, after a still minute, more than the whisper of a whistle came to +him--the subdued sweet call of a meadow lark. It was so sweet it might +have been mate to any he had heard on the range that morning. + +Only an instant he hesitated, then with equal care he gave the +duplicate call, and held his breath to listen--not a sound came back. + +"We've gone loco, Pardner," he observed to the smutty-faced roan +moving near him. "That jolt from the bay outlaw this morning has +jingled my brain pans--we don't hear birds call us--we only think we +do." + +If he had even looked at Pardner he might have been given a sign, for +the roan had lifted its head and was staring into the shadows back of +the sweating olla. + +"Hi, you caballero!" + +The words were too clear to be mistaken, the "caballero" stared across +to the only people in sight. There was Pedro Vijil sharpening an axe, +while Merced, his wife, turned the creaking grindstone for him. The +young olive branches of the Vijil family were having fun with a horned +toad under the _ramada_ where gourd vines twisted about an ancient +grape, and red peppers hung in a gorgeous splash of color. Between +that and the blue haze of the far mountains there was no sign of +humanity to account for such cheery youthful Americanism as the tone +suggested. + +"Hi, yourself!" he retorted, "whose ghost are you?" + +There was a giggle from the barred window of the adobe. + +"I don't dare say because I am not respectable just now," replied the +voice. "I fell in the ditch and have nothing on but the Sunday shirt +of Pedro. I am the funniest looking thing! wish I dared ride home in +it to shock them all silly." + +"Why not?" he asked, and again the girlish laugh gave him an odd +thrill of comradeship. + +"A good enough reason; they'd take Pat from me, and say he wasn't safe +to ride--but he is! My tumble was my own fault for letting them put on +that fool English saddle. Never again for me!" + +"They are all right for old folks and a pacing pony," he observed, and +again he heard the bubbling laugh. + +"Well, Pat is not a pacing pony, not by a long shot; and I'm not +old folks--yet!" Then after a little silence, "Haven't you any +curiosity?" + +"I reckon there's none allowed me on this count," he replied without +lifting his head, "between the wooden bars and Pedro's shirt you +certainly put the fences up on me." + +"I'm a damsel in distress waiting for a rescuing knight with a white +banner and a milk-white steed--" went on the laughing voice in stilted +declamation. + +"Sorry, friend, but my cayuse is a roan, and I never carried a white +flag yet. You pick the wrong colors." + +Whereupon he began the chanting of a war song, with an eye stealthily +on the barred window. + + _Hurrah! Hurrah! For southern rights, hurrah! + Hurrah for the bonnie blue flag + That bears the single star!_ + +"Oh! _I_ know that!" the voice was now a hail of recognition. "Cap +Pike always sings that when he's a little 'how-came-ye-so'--and +_you're_ a Johnny Reb!" + +"Um! twice removed," assented the man by the wall, "and you are a +raiding Yank who has been landed in one of our fortresses with only +one shirt to her back, and that one borrowed." + +He had a momentary vision of two laughing gray eyes beside the olla, +and the girl behind the bars laughed until Merced let the grindstone +halt while she cast a glance towards the house as if in doubt as to +whether three feet of adobe wall and stout bars could serve instead of +a dueña to foolish young Americans who chattered according to their +foolishness. + +There was an interval of silence, and then the girlish voice called +again. + +"Hi, Johnny Reb!" + +"Same to you, Miss Yank." + +"Aren't you the new Americano from California, for the La Partida +rancho?" + +"Even so, O wise one of the borrowed garment." The laugh came to him +again. + +"Why don't you ask how I know?" she demanded. + +"It is borne in upon me that you are a witch of the desert, or the +ghost of a dream, that you see through the adobe wall, and my equally +thick skull. Far be it for me to doubt that the gift of second sight +is yours, O seventh daughter of a seventh daughter!" + +"No such thing! I'm the only one!" came the quick retort, and the +young chap in the shade of the adobe shook with silent mirth. + +"I see you laughing, Mr. Johnny Reb, you think you caught me that +time. But you just halt and listen to me, I've a hunch and I'm going +to prophesy." + +"I knew you had the gift of second sight!" + +"Maybe you won't believe me, but the hunch is that you--won't--hold--the +job on these ranches!" + +"What!" and he turned square around facing the window, then laughed. +"That's the way you mean to get even for the 'seventh daughter' guess +is it? You think I can't handle horses?" + +"Nix," was the inelegant reply, "I know you can, for I saw you handle +that bay outlaw they ran in on you this morning: seven years old and +no wrangler in Pima could ride him. Old Cap Pike said it was a damn +shame to put you up against that sun-fisher as an introduction to +Granados." + +"Oh! Pike did, did he? Nice and sympathetic of Pike. I reckon he's the +old-time ranger I heard about out at the Junction, reading a red-fire +riot to some native sons who were not keen for the cactus trail of the +Villistas. That old captain must be a live wire, but he thinks I can't +stick?" + +"No-o, that wasn't Cap Pike, that was my own hunch. Say, are you +married?" + +"O señorita! this is so sudden!" he spoke in shy reproof, twisting his +neckerchief in mock embarrassment, and again Merced looked toward the +house because of peals of laughter there. + +"You are certainly funny when you do that," she said after her +laughter had quieted down to giggles, "but I wasn't joking, honest +Indian I wasn't! But how did you come to strike Granados?" + +"Me? Well, I ranged over from California to sell a patch of ground I +owned in Yuma. Then I hiked over to Nogales on a little _pasear_ and +offered to pack a gun and wear a uniform for this Mexican squabble, +and the powers that be turned me down because one of my eyes could see +farther than the other--that's no joke--it's a calamity! I spent all +the _dinero_ I had recovering from the shock, and about the time I was +getting my sympathetic friends sobered up, Singleton, of Granados, saw +us trying out some raw cavalry stock, and bid for my valuable services +and I rode over. Any other little detail you'd like to know?" + +"N-no, only needed to know it wasn't Conrad the manager hired you, and +I asked if you were married because married men need the work more +than single strays. Adolf Conrad got rid of two good American men +lately, and fetches over Mexicans from away down Hermosillo way." + +"'Cause why?" asked the man who had ceased pretense of mending the +saddle, and was standing with back against the adobe. + +"'Cause I don't know," came petulant response. "I only had the hunch +when I saw you tame that outlaw in the corral. If he pulls wires to +lose _you_, I'll stop guessing; I'll know!" + +"Very interesting, señorita," agreed the stranger reflectively. "But +if I have a good job, I can't see how it will give me aid or comfort +to know that you've acquired knowledge, and stopped guessing. When's +your time up behind the bars?" + +"Whenever my clothes get dry enough to fool the dear home folks." + +"You must be a joy to the bosom of your family," he observed, "also a +blessing." + +He heard again the girlish laughter and concluded she could not be +over sixteen. There was silence for a space while only the creak of +the grindstone cut the stillness. Whoever she was, she had given him a +brief illuminating vision of the tactics of Conrad, the manager for +the ranches of Granados and La Partida, the latter being the Sonora +end of the old Spanish land grant. Even a girl had noted that the +rough work had been turned over to a new American from the first +circle of the _rodeo_. He stood there staring out across the sage +green to the far purple hills of the Green Springs range. + +"You've fixed that cinch, what you waiting for?" asked the voice at +last, and the young fellow straightened up and lifted the saddle. + +"That's so," he acknowledged. "But as you whistled to me and the call +seemed friendly, it was up to me to halt for orders--from the lady in +distress." + +Again he heard the soft laughter and the voice. + +"Glad you liked the friendly call, Johnny Reb," she confessed. "That's +my call. If ever you hear it where there are no larks, you'll know who +it is." + +"Sure," he agreed, yanking at the cinch, "and I'll come a lopin' with +the bonnie blue flag, to give aid and succor to the enemy." + +"You will not!" she retorted. "You'll just whistle back friendly, and +be chums. I think my clothes are dry now, and you'd better travel. If +you meet anyone looking for a stray maverick, you haven't seen me." + +"Just as you say. _Adios!_" + +After he had mounted and passed along the corral to the road, he +turned in the saddle and looked back. He could see no one in the +window of the bars, but there came to him clear and sweet the field +bugle of the meadow lark. + +He answered it, lifted his sombrero and rode soberly towards the +Granados corrals, three miles across the valley. Queer little trick +she must be. American girls did not usually ride abroad alone along +the border, and certainly did not chum with the Mexicans to the extent +of borrowing shirts. Then as he lifted the bridle and Pardner broke +into a lope, he noted an elderly horseman jogging along across trail +on a little mule. Each eyed the other appraisingly. + +"Hello, Bub!" hailed the older man. "My name's Pike, and you're the +new man from California, hey? Glad to meet you. Hear your name's +Rhodes." + +"I reckon you heard right," agreed the young chap. "K. Rhodes at your +service, sir." + +"Hello! K? K? Does that K stand for Kit?" + +"Center shot for you," assented the other. + +"From Tennessee?" + +"Now you're a sort of family historian, I reckon, Mr. Pike," suggested +K. Rhodes. "What's the excitement?" + +"Why you young plantation stray!" and the older man reached for his +hand and made use of it pump-handle fashion with a sort of sputtering +glee. "Great guns, boy! there was just one K. Rhodes a-top of God's +green earth and we were pardners here in Crook's day. Hurrah for us! +Are you cousin, son, or nephew?" + +"My grandfather was with Crook." + +"Sure! I knew it soon as I laid eyes on you and heard your name; that +was in the corral with the outlaw Conrad had driven in for you to +work, it wa'n't a square deal to a white man. I was cussin' mad." + +"So I heard," and the blue eyes of the other smiled at the memory of +the girl's glib repetition of his discourse. "What's the great idea? +Aside from the fact that he belongs to the white dove, anti-military +bunch of sisters, Singleton seems quite white, a nice chap." + +"Yeh, but he's noways wise at that. He sort of married into the horse +game here, wasn't bred to it. Just knows enough to not try to run it +solo. Now this Dolf Conrad does know horses and the horse market, and +Granados rancho. He's shipped more cavalry stock to France than any +other outfit in this region. Yes, Conrad knows the business end of the +game, but even at that he might not assay as high grade ore. He is +mixed up with them too-proud-to-fight clique organized by old maids of +both sexes, and to show that he is above all prejudice, political or +otherwise, he sure is corraling an extra lot of Mex help this year. +I've _companeros_ I'd go through hell for, but Conrad's breed--well, +enough said, Bub, but they're different!" Mr. Pike bit off a chew of +black plug, and shook his head ruminatively. + +Rhodes looked the old man over as they rode along side by side. He was +lean, wiry and probably sixty-five. His hair, worn long, gave him the +look of the old-time ranger. He carried no _reata_ and did not look +like a ranchman. He had the southern intonation, and his eyes were +wonderfully young for the almost snowy hair. + +"Belong in the valley, Captain?" + +"Belong? Me belong anywhere? Not yet, son," and he smiled at his own +fancy. "Not but what it's a good enough corner when a man reaches the +settlin' down age. I drift back every so often. This ranch was Fred +Bernard's, and him and me flocked together for quite a spell. +Singleton married Bernard's widow--she's dead now these seven years. I +just drift back every so often to keep track of Bernard's kid, +Billie." + +"I see. Glad to have met you, Captain. Hope we can ride together often +enough for me to hear about the old Apache days. This land has fetched +out three generations of us, so it surely has some pull! My father +came at the end of his race, but I've come in time to grow up with the +country." + +Captain Pike looked at him and chuckled. K. Rhodes was about +twenty-three, tall, almost boyish in figure, but his shoulders and +hands suggested strength, and his mouth had little dents of humor at +the corners to mitigate the squareness of jaw and the heavy dark +brows. His black lashes made the deep blue of his eyes look purple. +Young he was, but with a stature and self-reliant manner as witness +of the fact that he was fairly grown up already. + +"Where'd you learn horses, Bub?" + +"Tennessee stock farm, and southern California ranges. Then this neck +of the woods seemed calling me, and I trailed over to look after a bit +of land in Yuma. I wasted some time trying to break into the army, but +they found some eye defect that I don't know anything about--and don't +more than half believe! I had some dandy prospecting plans after that, +but there was no jingling in my pockets--no outfit money, so I hailed +Singleton as an angel monoplaned down with the ducats. Yes sir, I had +all the dream survey made for a try at some gold trails down here, +going to take it up where the rest of the family quit." + +"You mean that, boy?" The old man halted his mule, and spat out the +tobacco, staring at Rhodes in eager anticipation. + +"I sure do. Reckon I've inherited the fever, and can't settle down to +any other thing until I've had one try at it. Did do a little placer +working in the San Jacinto." + +"And you're broke?" Mr. Pike's voice betrayed a keen joy in the +prospect. + +"Flat," stated K. Rhodes, eyeing the old gentleman suspiciously, "my +horse, saddle, field glass, and gun are the only belongings in +sight." + +"Ki-yi!" chirruped his new acquaintance gleefully, "I knew when I got +out of the blankets this morning I was to have good luck of some sort, +had a 'hunch.' You can bet on me, Bub; you've struck the right rail, +and I'm your friend, your desert _companero_!" + +"Yes, you sound real nice and friendly," agreed K. Rhodes. "So glad +I'm flat broke that you're having hysterics over it. Typical southern +hospitality. Hearty welcome to our city, and so forth, and so forth!" + +The old man grinned at him appreciatively. "Lord boy!--I reckon I've +been waiting around for you about ten year, though I didn't know what +your name would be when you come, and it couldn't be a better one! +We'll outfit first for the Three Hills of Gold in the desert, and if +luck is against us there we'll strike down into Sonora to have a try +after the red gold of El Alisal. I've covered some of that ground, but +never had a pardner who would stick. They'd beat it because of either +the Mexicans or the Indians, but _you_--say boy! It's the greatest +game in the world and we'll go to it!" + +His young eyes sparkled in his weathered desert face, and more than +ten years were cast aside in his enthusiasm. K. Rhodes looked at him +askance. + +"If I did not have a key to your sane and calm outlining of prospects +for the future, I might suspect loco weed or some other dope," he +observed. "But the fact is you must have known that my grandfather in +his day went on the trail of the Three Hills of Gold, and left about a +dozen different plans on paper for future trips." + +"Know it? Why boy, I went in with him!" shrilled Captain Pike. "Know +it? Why, we crawled out half starved, and dried out as a couple of +last year's gourds. We dug roots and were chewing our own boot tops +when the Indians found us. Sure, I know it. He went East to raise +money for a bigger outfit, but never got back--died there." + +"Yes, then my father gathered up all the plans and specifications and +came out with a friend about fifteen years ago," added Rhodes. "They +never got anywhere, but he sort of worked the fever off, bought some +land and hit the trail back home. So I've been fairly well fed up on +your sort of dope, Captain, and when I've mended that gone feeling in +my pocketbook I may 'call' you on the gold trail proposition. Even if +you're bluffing there'll be no come back; I can listen to a lot of +'lost mine' vagaries. It sounds like home sweet home to me!" + +"Bluff nothing! we'll start next week." + +"No we won't, I've got a job and made a promise, got to help clean up +the work here for the winter. Promised to take the next load of horses +East." + +"That's a new one," observed his new friend. "Conrad himself has +always gone East with the horses, or sent Brehmen, his secretary. But +never mind, Bub, the eastern trip won't take long. I'll be devilin' +around getting our outfit and when the chance comes--us for the Three +Hills of Gold!" + +"It listens well," agreed K. Rhodes, "cheeriest little _pasear_ I've +struck in the county. We'll have some great old powwows, even if we +don't make a cent, and some day you'll tell me about the mental kinks +in the makeup of our Prussian friend, Conrad. He sounds interesting to +me." + +Captain Pike uttered a profane and lurid word or two concerning Mr. +Conrad, and stated he'd be glad when Billie was of age. Singleton, and +therefore Conrad, would only have the management up to that time. +Billie would know horses if nothing else, and--Then he interrupted +himself and stared back the way he had come. + +"I'm a forgetful old fool!" he stated with conviction. "I meandered +out to take a look around for her, and I didn't like the looks of that +little dab of a saddle Conrad had put on Pat. You didn't see anything +of her, did you?" + +"What does she look like?" + +"A slip of a girl who rides like an Indian, rides a black horse." + +"No, I've seen no one," said the young chap truthfully enough. "But +who did you say your girl was?" + +"You'll find out if you hold your job long enough for her to be of +age," said Pike darkly. "She'll be your boss instead of Conrad. It's +Billie Bernard, the owner of Granados and La Partida." + +"Billie?" + +"Miss Wilfreda, if you like it better." + +But K. Rhodes said he didn't. Billie seemed to fit the sort of girl +who would garb herself in Pedro's shirt and whistle at him through the +bars of the little window. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE RED GOLD LEGEND + + +It took less than a week for Kit Rhodes to conclude that the girl +behind the bars had a true inspiration regarding his own position on +her ranches. There was no open hostility to him, yet it was evident +that difficulties were cleverly put in his way. + +Not by Philip Singleton, the colorless, kindly disposed gentleman of +Pike's description. But by various intangible methods, he was made to +feel an outsider by the manager, Conrad, and his more confidential +Mexican assistants. They were punctiliously polite, too polite for a +horse-ranch outfit. Yet again and again a group of them fell silent +when he joined them, and as his work was with the horse herds of La +Partida, that part of the great grant which spread over the border +into Sonora, he was often camped fifty miles south of the hacienda of +Granados, and saw no more of either the old prospector, or the +tantalizing girl of the voice and the whistle. + +Conrad, however, motored down two or three times concerning horses for +eastern shipment, but Rhodes, the new range capitan, puzzled +considerably over those flying visits, for, after the long drive +through sand and alkali, the attention he gave either herds or outfit +was negligible. In fact he scarcely touched at the camp, yet always +did some trifling official act coming or going to make record that he +had been there. + +The Mexicans called him El Aoura, the buzzard, because no man could +tell when he would swoop over even the farthest range of La Partida to +catch them napping. Yet there was some sort of curious bond between +them for there were times when Conrad came north as from a long +southern trail, yet the Mexicans were as dumb men if it was referred +to. + +He was a compactly built, fair man of less than forty, with thin +reddish brown hair, brows slanting downward from the base of the +nose, and a profile of that curious Teuton type reminiscent of a +supercilious hound if one could imagine such an animal with milk-blue +eyes and a yellow mustache with spiky turned-up ends. + +But Rhodes did not permit any antipathy he might feel towards the man +to interfere with his own duties, and he went stolidly about the range +work as if in utter forgetfulness of the dark prophecy of the girl. + +If he was to lose his new job he did not mean that it should be from +inattention, and nothing was too trifling for his notice. He would do +the work of a range boss twelve hours out of the day, and then put in +extra time on a night ride to the _cantina_ at the south wells of La +Partida. + +But as the work moved north and the consignment of horses for France +made practically complete, old Cap Pike rode down to Granados corrals, +and after contemplation of the various activities of Rhodes, climbed +up on the corral fence beside him, where the latter was checking off +the accepted animals. + +"You're a cheerful idiot for work, Bub," agreed the old man, "but what +the devil do you gain by doing so much of the other fellow's job? +Pancho Martinez wasn't sick as he played off on you; you're green to +these Mexican tricks." + +"Sure, I'm the original Green from Greenburg," assented his new +_companero_. "Pancho was only more than usually drunk last night, +while I was fresh as a daisy and eager to enlarge my geographic +knowledge, also my linguistics, Hi! Pedro! not the sorrel mare! Cut +her out!" + +"Linguistics?" repeated Pike impatiently. + +"Yeh, nice little woman in the cantina at La Partida wells. I am a +willing pupil at Spanish love songs, and we get along fine. I am +already a howling success at _La Paloma_, _La Golondrina_, and a few +other sentimental birds." + +"Oh, you are, are you?" queried Pike. "Well, take a warning. You'll +get a knife in your back from her man one of these fine nights, and +the song will be _Adios, adios amores_ for you!" + +"Nothing doing, Cap! We play _malilla_ for the drinks, and I work it +so that he beats me two out of three. I'm so easy I'm not worth +watching. Women don't fancy fools, so I'm safe." + +"Well, I'll be 'strafed' by the Dutch!" Pike stared at the young +fellow, frowning in perplexity. "You sure have me puzzled, Bub. Are +you a hopeless dunce by training or nature?" + +"Natural product," grinned K. Rhodes cheerfully. "Beauty unadorned. +Say Cap, tell me something. What is the attraction for friend Conrad +south of La Partida? I seem to run against a stone wall when I try to +feel out the natives on that point. Now just what lies south, and +whose territory?" + +The old man looked at him with a new keenness. + +"For your sort of an idiot you've blundered on a big interrogation +point," he observed. "Did you meet him down there?" + +"No, only heard his voice in the night. It's not very easy to mistake +that velvety blood-puddin' voice of his, and a team went down to meet +him. He seems to go down by another route, railroad I reckon, and +comes in by the south ranch. Now just what is south?" + +"The ranches of Soledad grant join La Partida, or aim to. There are no +maps, and no one here knows how far down over the border the Partida +leagues do reach. Soledad was an old mission site, and a fortified +hacienda back in the days of Juarez. Its owner was convicted of +treason during Diaz' reign, executed, and the ranches confiscated. It +is now in the hands of a Federal politician who is safer in +Hermosillo. The revolutionists are thick even among the pacificos up +here, but the Federals have the most ammunition, and the gods of war +are with the guns." + +"Sure; and who is the Federal politician? No, not that colt, +Marcito!" + +"Perez, Don José Perez," stated Pike, giving no heed to corral +interpolations. "He claims more leagues than have ever been reckoned +or surveyed, took in several Indian rancherias last year when the +natives were rounded up and shipped to Yucatan." + +"What?" + +"Oh, he is in that slave trade good and plenty! They say he is sore on +the Yaquis because he lost a lot of money on a boat load that +committed suicide as they were sailing from Guaymas." + +"A boat load of suicides! Now a couple of dozen would sound +reasonable, but a boat load----" + +"But it happened to every Indian on the boat, and the boat was full! +No one knows how the poor devils decided it, but it was their only +escape from slavery, and they went over the side like a school of +fish. Men, women, and children from the desert who couldn't swim a +stroke! Talk about nerve--there wasn't one weakling in that whole +outfit, not one! Perez was wild. It lost him sixty dollars a head, +American." + +"And that's the neighbor friend Conrad takes a run down south to see +occasionally?" + +"Who says so, Bub?" + +The two looked at each other, eyes questioning. + +"Look here, son," said Pike, after a little, "I'll hit any trail with +you barring Mexican politics. They all sell each other out as regular +as the seasons swing around, and the man north of the line who gets +tangled is sure to be victim if he stays in long enough." + +"Oh, I don't know! We have a statesman or two who flirted with Sonora +and came out ahead." + +"I said if he stayed in," reminded Pike. "Sure we have crooks galore +who drift across, play a cut-throat game and skip back to cover. The +border is lined with them on both sides. And Conrad----" + +"But Conrad isn't in politics." + +"N-no. There's no evidence that he is, but his Mexican friends are. +There are men on the Granados now who used to be down on Soledad, and +they are the men who make the trips with him to the lower ranch." + +"Tomas Herrara and Chico Domingo?" + +"I reckon you've sized them up, but remember, Kit, I don't cross over +with you for any political game, and I don't know a thing!" + +"All right, Captain, but don't raise too loud a howl if I fancy a +_pasear_ occasionally to improve my Spanish." + +The old man grumbled direful and profane prophecies as to things +likely to happen to students of Spanish love songs in Sonora, and then +sat with his head on one side studying Kit ruminatively as he made his +notes of the selected stock. + +"Ye know Bub, it mightn't be so bad at that, if you called a halt in +time, for one of the lost mine trails calls for Spanish and plenty of +it. I've got a working knowledge, but the farther you travel into +Sonora the less American you will hear, and that lost mine of the old +padres is down there along the ranges of Soledad somewhere." + +"Which one of the fifty-seven varieties have you elected to uncover +first?" queried Rhodes. "The last time you were confidential about +mines I thought the 'Three Hills of Gold' were mentioned by you." + +"Sure it was, but since you are on the Sonora end of the ranch, and +since you are picking up your ears to learn Sonoran trails, it might +be a good time to follow your luck. Say, I'll bet that every herder +who drifts into the _cantina_ at La Partida has heard of the red gold +of El Alisal. The Yaquis used to know where it was before so many of +them were killed off; reckon it's lost good and plenty now, but +nothing is hid forever and it's waiting there for some man with the +luck." + +"We're willing," grinned Kit. "You are a great little old dreamer, +Captain. And there is a fair chance I may range down there. I met a +chap named Whitely from over toward the Painted Hills north of Altar. +Ranch manager, sort of friendly." + +"Sure, Tom Whitely has some stock in a ranch over there--the Mesa +Blanca ranch--it joins Soledad on the west. I've always aimed to range +that way, but the lost mine is closer than the eastern sierras--must +be! The trail of the early padres was farther east, and the mine could +not well be far from the trail, not more than a day's journey by mule +or burro, and that's about twenty miles. You see Bub, it was found by +a padre who wandered off the trail on the way to a little branch +mission, or _visita_, as they call it, and it was where trees grew, +for a big alisal tree--sycamore you know--was near the outcrop of that +red gold. Well, that _visita_ was where the padres only visited the +heathen for baptism and such things; no church was built there! That's +what tangles the trail for anyone trying to find traces after a +hundred years." + +"I reckon it would," agreed Rhodes. "Think what a hundred years of +cactus, sand, and occasional _temblors_ can do to a desert, to say +nothing of the playful zephyrs. Why, Cap, the winds could lift a +good-sized range of hills and fill the baby rivers with it in that +time, for the winds of the desert have a way with them!" + +A boy rode out of the whirls of dust, and climbed up on the corral +fence where Rhodes was finishing tally of the horses selected for +shipment. He was the slender, handsome son of Tomas Herrara of whom +they had been speaking. + +"It is a letter," he said, taking a folded paper from his hat. "The +Señor Conrad is having the telegraph, and the cars are to be ready for +Granados." + +"Right you are, Juanito," agreed Rhodes. "Tell Señor Conrad I will +reach Granados for supper, and that all the stock is in." + +The lad whirled away again, riding joyously north, and Rhodes, after +giving final directions to the vaqueros, turned his roan in the same +direction. + +"Can't ride back with you, Cap, for I'm taking a little _pasear_ +around past Herrara's rancheria. I want to take a look at that bunch +of colts and size up the water there. I've a hunch they had better be +headed up the other valley to the Green Springs tank till rains +come." + +Captain Pike jogged off alone after some audible and highly colored +remarks concerning range bosses who assumed the power of the Almighty +to be everywhere the same day. Yet as he watched the younger man +disappear over the gray-green range he smiled tolerantly for, after +all, that sort of a hustler was the right sort of partner for a +prospecting trip. + +The late afternoon was a golden haze under a metal blue sky; afar to +the east, sharp edges of the mountains cut purple zig-zags into the +salmon pink of the horizon. The rolling waves of the ranges were +bathed in a sea of rest, and now and then a bird on the mesquite along +an arroya, or resting on branch of flaring occotilla would give out +the foreboding call of the long shadows, for the heart of the day had +come and gone, and the cooler air was waking the hidden things from +siesta. + +Kit Rhodes kept the roan at a steady lope along the cattle trail, +drinking in the refreshing sweetness of the lonely ranges after hours +of dust and heat and the trampling horse herds of the corrals. +Occasionally he broke into songs of the ranges, love songs, death +laments, and curious sentimental ditties of love and wars of old +England as still crooned in the cabins of southern mountains. + + _I had not long been married, + A happy, happy bride! + When a handsome trooper captain + Stepped up to our bedside, + "Rise up! rise up! young man," he said, + "And go along with me, + In the low, low lands of Holland + To fight for liberty._" + +The ancient song of the sad bride whose lover proved false in the +"low, low lands of Holland" trailed lugubriously along the arroya in a +totally irrelevant way, for the singer was not at all sad. He was +gaily alert, keen-eyed and watchful, keeping time to the long lope +with that dubious versification. + +"And they're at it again pretty close to the 'low, low lands of +Holland,' Pardner," he confided to the horse. "And when you and I make +a stake you'll go on pasture, I'll hit the breeze for Canada or some +other seaport, and get one whack at the Boche brown rat on my own if +official America is too proud to fight, for + + _Oh-h! oh-h! Oh-h! + In the low, low lands of Holland, + My love was false to me!_" + +Then, after long stretches of sand dunes, mesquite thickets, +occasional wide cañons where _zacatan_ meadows rippled like waves of +the sea in the desert air, he swung his horse around a low hill and +came in sight of the little adobe of Herrara, a place of straggly +enclosures of stakes and wattles, with the corral at the back. + +Another rider came over the hill beyond the corral, on a black horse +skimming the earth. Rhodes stared and whistled softly as the black +without swerving planted its feet and slid down the declivity by the +water tank, and then, jumping the fence below, sped to the little +_ramada_ before the adobe where its rider slid to the ground amid a +deal of barking of dogs and scattering of children. + +And although Kit had never seen the rider before, he had no difficulty +as to recognition, and on a sudden impulse he whistled the meadow-lark +call loudly enough to reach her ears. + +She halted at the door, a bundle in her hand, and surveyed the +landscape, but failed to see him because he at that moment was back of +a clump of towering prickly pear. And she passed on into the shadows +of the adobe. + +"That's the disadvantage of being too perfect, Pardner," he confided +to the roan, "she thinks we are a pair of birds." + +He turned at the corner of the corral and rode around it which took +him back of the house and out of range from the door, but the dogs set +up a ki-yi-ing, and a flock of youngsters scuttled to the corner of +the adobe, and stared as children of the far ranges are prone to stare +at the passing of a traveler from the longed-for highways of the +world. + +The barking of the dogs and scampering of the children evidently got +on the nerves of the black horse left standing at the vine-covered +_ramada_, for after a puppy had barked joyously at his heels he leaped +aside, and once turned around kept on going, trotting around the +corral after the roan. + +Rhodes saw it but continued on his way, knowing he could pick it up on +his return, as the Ojo Verde tank was less than a mile away. A boy +under the _ramada_ gave one quick look and then fled, a flash of brown +and a red flapping end of a sash, up the cañoncita where the home +spring was shadowed by a large mesquite tree. + +At first Rhodes turned in the saddle with the idea of assisting in the +catching of the black if that was the thing desired, but it evidently +was not. + +"Now what has that _muchacho_ on his mind that he makes that sort of +get-away after nothing and no pursuer in sight? Pardner, I reckon +we'll squander a valuable minute or two and gather in that black." + +He galloped back, caught the wanderer but kept right on without pause +to the trickle of water under the flat wide-spreading tree--it was a +solitaire, being king of its own domain and the only shade, except the +vine-covered _ramada_, for a mile. + +The startled boy made a movement as if to run again as Kit rode up, +then halted, fear and fateful resignation changing the childish face +to sullenness. + +"_Buenas tardes_, Narcisco." + +"_Buenas tardes_, señor," gulped the boy. + +"I turned back to catch the horse of the señorita for you," observed +Rhodes. "It is best you tie him when you lead him back, but first give +him water. Thirst is perhaps the cause he is restless." + +"Yes señor," agreed the lad. "At once I will do that." But he held the +horse and did not move from his tracks, and then Rhodes noticed that +on the flat rock behind him was a grain sack thrown over something, a +brown bottle had rolled a little below it, and the end of a hammer +protruded from under the sacking. + +Ordinarily Rhodes would have given no heed to any simple ranch +utensils gathered under the shadow where work was more endurable, but +the fear in the face of the boy fascinated him. + +"Think I'll give Pardner a drink while I am about it," he decided, and +dismounted carelessly. "Got a cup that I can take my share first?" + +Narcisco had no cup, only shook his head and swallowed as if the +attempt at words was beyond him. + +"Well, there is a bottle if it is clean," and Rhodes strode awkwardly +towards it, but his spur caught in the loose mesh of the sacking, and +in loosening it he twisted it off the rock. + +Narcisco gasped audibly, and Rhodes laughed. He had uncovered a couple +of dozen empty whiskey bottles, and a tin pan with some broken glass. + +"What you trying to start up here in the cañon, Buddy?" he asked. +"Playing saloon-keeper with only the gophers for customers?" + +He selected a corked bottle evidently clean, rinsed and drank from +it. + +"Yes--señor--I am here playing--that is all," affirmed Narcisco. "At +the house Tia Mariana puts us out because there is a new _niño_--my +mother and the new one sleep--and there is no place to make a noise." + +"Oh," commented Rhodes, "well, let the black have a little water, and +lead him out of the way of mine. This gully isn't wide enough to turn +around in." + +Obediently the boy led the black to the sunken barrel catching seepage +from the barrel under the drip. Rhodes tossed the sack back to the +flat rock and noted an old canvas water bottle beside the heap, it was +half full of something--not water, for it was uncorked and the mouth +of it a-glitter with shimmering particles like diamond dust, and the +same powder was over a white spot on the rock--the lad evidently was +playing miller and pounding broken glass into a semblance of meal. + +"Funny stunt, that!" he pondered, and, smiling, watched the frightened +boy. "Herrara certainly is doing a bit of collecting _vino_ to have a +stock of bottles that size, and the poor kid's nothing else to play +with." + +He mounted and rode on, leaving Narcisco to lead the black to his +mistress. He could not get out of his mind the fright in the eyes of +the boy. Was Herrara a brute to his family, and had Narcisco taken to +flight to hide his simple playthings under the mistaken idea that the +horseman was his father returned early from the ranges? + +That was the only solution Rhodes could find to the problem, though he +milled it around in his mind quite a bit. Unless the boy was curiously +weak-minded and frightened at the face of a stranger it was the only +explanation he could find, yet the boys of Herrara had always struck +him as rather bright. In fact Conrad had promoted Juanito to the +position of special messenger; he could ride like the wind and never +forget a word. + +The shadows lengthened as he circled the little cañon of the Ojo Verde +and noted the water dripping from the full tanks, ideal for the colt +range for three months. He took note that Herrara was not neglecting +anything, despite that collection of bottles. There was no wastage and +the pipes connecting the tanks were in good condition. + +He rode back, care free and content, through the fragrant valley. The +cool air was following the lowering sun, and a thin mauve veil was +drifting along the hills of mystery in the south; he sang as he rode +and then checked the song to listen to the flutelike call of a lark. +His lips curved in a smile as he heard it, and with it came the +thought of the girl and the barred window of Vijil's adobe. + +She permeated the life of Granados just as the soft veil enwrapped the +far hills, and she had seemed almost as far away if not so mysterious. +Not once had he crossed her trail, and he heard she was no longer +permitted to ride south of the line. The vaqueros commented on this +variously according to their own point of view. Some of the Mexicans +resented it, and in one way or another her name was mentioned whenever +problems of the future were discussed. Singleton was regarded as +temporary, and Conrad was a salaried business manager. But on a day +to come, the señorita, as her mother's daughter, would be their +mistress, and the older men with families showed content at the +thought. + +Rhodes never could think of her as the chatelaine of those wide +ranges. She was to him the "meadow-lark child" of jests and laughter, +heard and remembered but not seen. She was the haunting music of youth +meeting him at the gateway of a new land which is yet so old! + +Some such vagrant thought drifted through his mind as the sweet calls +of the drowsy birds cut the warm silence, now from some graceful palo +verde along a barranca and again from the slender pedestal of an +occotilla. + +"Lucky you, for you get an answer!" he thought whimsically. "Amble +along, Pardner, or the night witches get us!" + +And then he circled a little at the north of the cañon, and the black +horse, champing and fidgeting, was held there across the trail by its +rider. + +"We are seeing things in broad daylight, Pardner, and there ain't no +such animal," decided Rhodes, but Pardner whinnied, and the girl threw +up her hand. + +"This time I am a highwayman, the far-famed terror of the ranges!" she +called. + +"Sure!" he conceded. "I've been thinking quite a while that your term +must be about up." + +She laughed at that, and came alongside. + +"Didn't you suppose I might have my time shortened for good behavior?" +she asked. "You never even ride our way to see." + +"Me? Why, child, I'm so busy absorbing _kultur_ from your scientific +manager that my spare moments for damsels in distress are none too +plenty. You sent out nary a call, and how expect the lowest of your +serfs to hang around?" + +"Serf? That's good!" she said skeptically. "And say, you must love +Conrad about as much as Cap Pike does." + +"And that?" + +"Is like a rattlesnake." + +"Don't know that rattlesnake would be my first choice of comparison," +remarked Rhodes. "Back in Tennessee we have a variety beside which the +rattlesnake is a gentleman; a rattlesnake does his best to give +warning of intention, but the copperhead never does." + +"Copperhead! that's funny, for you know Conrad's hair is just about +the color of copper, dusty copper, faded copper--copper with tin +filings sifted through." + +"Don't strain yourself," laughed Rhodes. "That beautiful blondness +makes him mighty attractive to our Mexican cousins." + +"They can have my share," decided the girl. "I could worry along +without him quite awhile. He manages to get rid of all the likeable +range men _muy pronto_." + +Rhodes laughed until she stared at him frowningly, and then the +delicious color swept over her face. + +"Oh, _you_!" she said, and Rhodes thought of sweet peas, and pink +roses in old southern gardens as her lips strove to be straight, yet +curved deliciously. No one had mentioned to him how pretty she was; he +had thought of her as a browned tom-boy, but instead she was a +shell-pink bud on a slender stem, and wonder of wonders--she rode a +side-saddle in Arizona! + +She noticed him looking at it. + +"Are you going to laugh at that, too?" she demanded. + +"Why no, it hadn't occurred to me. It sort of looks like home to +me--our southern girls use them." + +She turned to him with a quick birdlike movement, her gray eyes +softened and trusting. + +"It was my mother's saddle, a wedding present from the vaqueros of our +ranches when she married my father. I am only beginning to use it, and +not so sure of myself as with the one I learned on." + +"Oh, I don't know," he observed. "You certainly looked sure when you +jumped that fence at Herrara's." + +She glanced at him quickly, curious, and then smiling. + +"And it was you, not the meadow lark! You are too clever!" + +"And you didn't answer, just turned your back on the lonely ranger," +he stated dolefully, but she laughed. + +"This doesn't look it, waiting to go home with you," she retorted. +"Cap Pike has been telling me about you until I feel as if I had known +you forever. He says you are his family now, so of course that makes +Granados different for you." + +"Why, yes. I've been in sight of Granados as much as twice since I +struck this neck of the woods. Your manager seems to think my valuable +services are indispensable at the southern side of this little +world." + +"So that's the reason? I didn't know," she said slowly. "One would +have to be a seventh son of a seventh son to understand his queer +ways. But you are going along home today, for I am a damsel in +distress and need to be escorted." + +"You don't look distressed, and I've an idea you could run away from +your escort if you took a notion," he returned. "But it is my lucky +day that I had a hunch for this cañon trail and the Green Springs, and +I am happy to tag along." + +They had reached Herrara's corral and Rhodes glanced up the little +gulch to the well. The flat rock there was stripped of the odd +collection, and Narcisco stood at the corner of the adobe watching +them somberly. + +"_Buenos tardes!_" called the girl. "Take care of the _niño_ as the +very treasure of your heart!" + +"Sure!" agreed the lad, "_Adios_, señorita." + +"Why the special guard over the treasure?" asked Rhodes as their +horses fell into the long easy lope side by side. "The house seems +full and running over, and _niñitas_ to spare." + +"There are never any to spare," she reminded him, "and this one is +doubly precious for it is named for me--together its saint and its two +grandmothers! Benicia promised me long ago that whether it was a boy +or a girl it would be Billie Bernard Herrara. I was just taking the +extra clothes I had Tia Luz make for him--and he is a little +black-eyed darling! Soon as he is weaned I'm going to adopt him; I +always did want a piccaninny for my own." + +Rhodes guided his horse carefully around a barranca edge, honeycombed +by gophers, and then let his eyes rest again on the lustrous confiding +eyes, and the rose-leaf lips. + +Afterward he told himself that was the moment he began to be bewitched +by Billie Bernard. + +But what he really said was--"Shoo, child, you're only a piccaninny +yourself!" and they both laughed. + +It was quite wonderful how old Captain Pike had managed to serve as a +family foundation for their knowledge of each other. There was not a +doubt or a barrier between them, they were "home folks" riding from +different ways and meeting in the desert, and silently claiming +kindred. + +The shadows grew long and long under the sun of the old Mexic land, +and the high heavens blazed above in yellows and pinks fading into +veiled blues and far misty lavenders in the hollows of the hills. + +The girl drew a great breath of sheer delight as she waved her hands +towards the fire flame in the west where the desert was a trail of +golden glory. + +"Oh, I am glad--glad I got away!" she said in a hushed half-awed +voice. "It never--never could be like this twice and we are seeing it! +Look at the moon!" + +The white circle in the east was showing through a net of softest +purple and the beauty of it caused them to halt. + +"Oh, it makes me want to sing, or to say my prayers, or--to cry!" she +said, and she blinked tears from her eyes and smiled at him. "I reckon +the colors would look the same from the veranda, but all this makes it +seem different," and her gesture took in the wide ranges. + +"Sure it does," he agreed. "One wants to yell, 'Hurrah for God!' when +a combination like this is spread before the poor meek and lowly of +the earth. It is a great stage setting, and makes us humans seem +rather inadequate. Why, we can't even find the right words for it." + +"It makes me feel that I just want to ride on and on, and on through +it, no matter which way I was headed." + +"Well, take it from me, señorita, you are headed the right way," he +observed. "Going north is safe, but the blue ranges of the south are +walls of danger. The old border line is a good landmark to tie to." + +"Um!" she agreed, "but all the fascinating things and the witchy +things, and the mysterious things are down there over the border. I +never get real joy riding north." + +"Perhaps because it is not forbidden, Miss Eve." + +Then they laughed again and lifted the bridles, and the horses broke +into a steady lope, neck and neck, as the afterglow made the earth +radiant and the young faces reflected the glory of it. + +"What was that you said about getting away?" he queried. "Did you +break jail?" + +"Just about. Papa Singleton hid my cross-saddle thinking I would not +go far on this one. They have put a ban on my riding south, but I just +had to see my Billie Bernard Herrara." + +"And you ran away?" + +"N-no. We sneaked away mighty slow and still till we got a mile or two +out, and then we certainly burned the wind. Didn't we, Pat?" + +"Well, as range boss of this end of the ranch I reckon I have to herd +you home, and tell them to put up the fences," said Rhodes. + +"Yes, you will!" she retorted in derision of this highly improbable +suggestion. + +"Surest thing you know! Singleton has good reasons for restricting +your little pleasure rides to Granados. Just suppose El Gavilan, the +Hawk, should cross your trail in Sonora, take a fancy to Pat--for Pat +is some _caballo_!--and gather you in as camp cook?" + +"Camp cook?" + +"Why, yes; you can cook, can't you? All girls should know how to +cook." + +"What if I do? I have cooked on the camp trips with Cap Pike, but that +doesn't say I'll ever cook for that wild rebel, Ramon Rotil. Are you +trying to frighten me off the ranges?" + +"No, only stating the case," replied Rhodes lighting a cigarette and +observing her while appearing not to. "Quite a few of the girls in the +revolution camps are as young as you, and many of them are not doing +camp work by their own choice." + +"But I--" she began indignantly. + +"Oh yes, in time you would be ransomed, and for a few minutes you +might think it romantic--the 'Bandit Bride,' the 'Rebel Queen,' the +'Girl Guerrilla,' and all that sort of dope,--but believe me, child, +by the time the ransom was paid you would be sure that north of the +line was the garden spot of the earth and heaven enough for you, if +you could only see it again!" + +She gave him one sulky resentful look and dug her heel into Pat. He +leaped a length ahead of the roan and started running. + +"You can pretend you are El Gavilan after a lark, and see how near you +will get!" she called derisively and leaned forward urging the black +to his best. + +"You glorified gray-eyed lark!" he cried. "Gather her in, Pardner!" + +But he rode wide to the side instead of at the heels of Pat and thus +they rode neck and neck joyously while he laughed at her intent to +leave him behind. + +The corrals and long hay ricks of Granados were now in sight, backed +by the avenue of palms and streaks of green where the irrigation +ditches led water to the outlying fields and orchards. + +"El Gavilan!" she called laughingly. "Beat him, Pat,--beat him to the +home gate!" + +Then out of a fork of the road to the left, an automobile swept to +them from a little valley, one man was driving like the wind and +another waved and shouted. Rhodes' eyes assured him that the shouting +man was Philip Singleton, and he rode closer to the girl, grasped her +bridle, and slowed down his own horse as well as hers. + +"You'll hate me some more for this," he stated as she tried to jerk +loose and failed, "but that yelping windmill is your fond guardian, +and he probably thinks I am trying to kidnap you." + +She halted at that, laughing and breathless, and waved her hand to the +occupants of the car. + +"I can be good as an angel now that I have had my day!" she said. +"Hello folks! What's the excitement?" + +The slender man whom Rhodes had termed the yelping windmill, removed +his goggles, and glared, hopelessly distressed at the flushed, +half-laughing girl. + +"Billie--Wilfreda!" + +"Now, now, Papa Singleton! Don't swear, and don't ever get frightened +because I am out of sight." Then she cast one withering glance at +Rhodes, adding,--"and if you engage range bosses like this one no one +on Granados will ever get out of sight!" + +"The entire house force has been searching for you over two hours. +Where have you been?" + +"Oh, come along home to supper, and don't fuss," she suggested. "Just +because you hid my other saddle I went on a little _pasear_ of my own, +and I met up with this roan on my way home." + +Rhodes grinned at the way she eliminated the rider of the roan horse, +but the driver of the machine was not deceived by the apparent slight. +He had seen that half defiant smile of comradeship, and his tone was +not nice. + +"It is not good business to waste time and men in this way," he stated +flatly. "It would be better that word is left with the right ones when +you go over the border to amuse yourself in Sonora." + +The smile went out of the eyes of the girl, and she held her head very +erect. + +"You and Mr. Rhodes appear to agree perfectly, Mr. Conrad," she +remarked. "He was trying to show me how little chance I would stand +against El Gavilan or even the Yaqui slave traders if they ranged up +towards the border." + +"Slave traders?" repeated Conrad. "You are making your jokes about +that, of course, but the camp followers of the revolution is a +different thing;--everywhere they are ranging." + +The girl did not answer, and the car sped on to the ranch house while +the two horses cantered along after them, but the joyous freedom of +the ride had vanished, lost back there on the ranges when the other +minds met them in a clash. + +"Say," observed Rhodes, "I said nothing about Yaqui slave traders. +Where did you get that?" + +"I heard Conrad and his man Brehman talking of the profits,--sixty +pesos a head I think it was. I wonder how they knew?" + +Singleton was waiting for them at the entrance to the ranch house, +great adobe with a patio eighty feet square in the center. In the old +old days it had housed all the vaqueros, but now the ranchmen were +divided up on different outlying rancherias and the many rooms of +Granados were mostly empty. Conrad, his secretary Brehman, and their +cook occupied one corner, while Singleton and Billie and Tia Luz with +her brood of helpers occupied the other. + +Singleton was not equal to the large hospitality of the old days when +the owner of a hacienda was a sort of king, dispensing favors and +duties to a small army of retainers. A companionable individual he was +glad to meet and chat or smoke with, but if the property had been his +own he would have sold every acre and spent the proceeds in some city +of the East where a gentleman could get something for his money. + +Conrad had halted a moment after Singleton climbed out of the car. + +"I sent word to Rhodes to come up from La Partida because of the horse +shipment," he said looking across the level where the two riders were +just entering the palm avenue. "Because of that it would seem he is to +be my guest, and I have room." + +"Oh, we all have room, more room than anything else," answered +Singleton drearily, "but it will be as Billie says. I see Pike's nag +here, and she always wants Pike." + +The milky blue eyes of Conrad slanted towards Singleton in discreet +contempt of the man who allowed a wayward girl to decide the guests or +the housing of them. But he turned away. + +"The telephone will reach me if there is anything I can do," he said. + +Singleton did not reply. He knew Conrad absolutely disapproved of the +range boss being accepted as a family guest. Between Billie and +Captain Pike, who was a privileged character, he did not quite see how +he could prevent it in the case of Rhodes, although he was honestly so +glad to see the girl ride home safe that he would have accepted any +guest of the range she suggested. + +"Papa Phil," she said smiling up into his face teasingly, "I'm on my +native heath again, so don't be sulky. And I have a darling new +namesake I've been making clothes for for a month, and I'll tell you +all about him if you'll give Mr. Rhodes and me a good supper. He is +Cap Pike's family, and will have the south corner room; please tell +Tia Luz." + +And when Billie was like that, and called him "Papa Phil," and looked +up at him with limpid childish eyes, there was never much else to be +said. + +"I'll show Rhodes his quarters myself, and you make haste and get your +habit off. Luz has been waiting supper an hour. Today's paper reports +a band of bandits running off stock on the Alton ranch, and it is on +the Arizona side of the border. That should show you it is no time to +ride out of sight of the corrals." + +"Now, now! you know the paper raids aren't real raids. They'll have a +new one to get excited over tomorrow." + +She ran away to be petted and scolded and prayed for by Tia Luz, who +had been her nurse, and was now housekeeper and the privileged one to +whom Billie turned for help and sympathy. + +"You laugh! but the heart was melting in me with the fear," she +grumbled as she fastened the yellow sash over the white lawn into +which Billie had dashed hurriedly. "It is not a joke to be caught in +the raiding of Ramon Rotil, or any of the other accursed! Who could +think it was south you were riding? I was the one to send them north +in the search, every man of them, and Señor Conrad looks knives at me. +That man thinks I am a liar, sure he does! and the saints know I was +honest and knew nothing." + +"Sure you know nothing, never could and never did, you dear old bag of +cotton," and Billie pinched affectionately the fat arm of Tia Luz and +tickled her under her fat chin. "Quick Luzita, and fasten me up. +Supper waits, and men are always raving wolves." + +She caught up a string of amber beads and clasped it about her throat +as she ran across the patio, and Kit Rhodes halted a moment in the +corridor to watch her. + +"White and gold and heavenly lovely," he thought as he rumpled his +crisp brown curls meditatively, all forgetful of the earnest attempts +he had just made to smooth them decorously with the aid of a damp +towel and a pocket comb. "White and gold and a silver spoon, and a +back seat for you, Kittie boy!" + +Captain Pike emerged from a door at the corner of the patio. He also +had damp hair, a shiny face, and a brand-new neckerchief with indigo +circles on a white ground. + +"Look at this, will you?" he piped gleefully. "Billie's the greatest +child ever! Always something stuck under the pillow like you'd hide +candy for a kid, and say,--if any of the outfit would chuck another +hombre in my bunk the little lady would raise hell from here to +Pinecate, and worse than that there ain't any this side of the +European centers of civilization. Come on in, supper's ready." + +Rhodes hesitated at the door of the dining room, suddenly conscious of +a dusty blouse and a much faded shirt. His spurs clink-clanked as he +strode along the tiling of the patio, and in the semi-twilight he felt +at home in the ranch house, but one look at the soft glow of the +shaded lamps, and the foot deep of Mexican needlework on the table +cover, gave him a picture of home such as he had not seen on the +ranges. + +Singleton was in spotless white linen, the ideal southern ranchman's +home garb, while the mistress of all the enticing picture was in white +and gold, and flushing pink as she met the grave appreciative gaze of +Rhodes. + +"H'lo little Santa Claus," chirruped Pike. "It's just the proper caper +to set off my manly beauty, so I'm one ahead of Kit who has no one to +garnish him for the feast--and it sure smells like some feast!" + +"Venison perhaps a trifle overdone, but we hope it won't disappoint +you," remarked Singleton. "Have this seat, Mr. Rhodes. Captain Pike +and Miss Bernard always chum together, and have their own side." + +"Rather," decided Pike, "and that arrangement reaches back beyond the +memory of mere man in this outfit." + +"I should say," agreed the girl. "Why, he used to have to toss me over +his head a certain number of times before I would agree to be strapped +in my high chair." + +"Yep, and I carpentered the first one, and it wasn't so bad at that! +Now child, if you will pass the lemons, and Kit will pass the decanter +of amber, and someone else will rustle some water, I'll manufacture a +tonic to take the dust out of your throats." + +"Everybody works but father," laughed Billie as the Chinaman sliced +and served the venison, and Tia Luz helped supply all plates, and then +took her place quietly at the lower end of the table and poured the +strong fragrant coffee. + +Rhodes spoke to her in Spanish, and her eyes lit up with kindly +appreciation. + +"Ah, very good!" she commented amicably. "You are not then too much +Americano?" + +"Well, yes, I'm about as American as you find them aside from the +Apache and Pima and the rest of the tribes." + +"Maybe so, but not gringo," she persisted. "I am scared of the Apache +the same as of El Gavilan, and today my heart was near to stop going +at all when we lose señorita and that black horse--and I say a prayer +for you to San Antonio when I see you come fetch her home again." + +"Yes, the black horse is valuable," remarked Billie. "Huh! I might as +well be in a convent for all I get to see of the ranges these late +days. If anyone would grubstake me, I'd break loose with Cap here and +go prospecting for adventures into some of the unnamed ranges." + +"You see!" said Tia Luz. "Is it a wonder I am cold with the fear when +she is away from my eyes? I have lived to see the people who go into +the desert for adventure, and whose bare bones are all any man looks +on again! Beside the mountain wells of Carrizal my own cousin's +husband died; he could not climb to the tank in the hill. There they +found him in the moon of Kumaki, which is gray and nothing growing +yet." + +"Yes, many's the salt outfit in the West played out before they +reached Tinajas Altas," said Pike. "I've heard curious tales about +that place, and the Carrizals as well. Billie's father nearly cashed +in down in the Carrizals, and one of his men did." + +"But that is what I am saying. It was Dario Ruiz," stated Tia Luz. +"Yes, señor, that was the time, and it was for the nameless ranges +they went seeking, and for adventures, treasure too; but--his soul to +God! it was death Dario was finding on that trail. Your father never +would speak one word again of the treasure of that old fable, for +Dario found death instead of the red gold, and Dario was _compadre_ to +him." + +"The red gold?" and Cap Pike's eyes were alight with interest. "Why, I +was telling Kit about that today, the red gold of El Alisal." + +"Yes, Señor Capitan, once so rich and so red it was a wonder in Spain +when the padres are sending it there from the mission of Soledad, and +then witches craft, like a cloud, come down and cover that mountain. +So is the vein lost again, and it is nearly one hundred years. So how +could Dario think to find it when the padres, with all their prayer, +never once found the trail?" + +"I never heard it was near a mission," remarked Pike. "Why, if it had +a landmark like that there should be no trouble." + +"Yet it is so, and much trouble, also deaths," stated Tia Luz. "That +is how the saying is that the red gold of El Alisal is gold bewitched, +for of Soledad not one adobe is now above ground unless it be in the +old walls of the hacienda. All is melted into earth again or covered +by the ranch house, and it is said the ranch house is also neglected +now, and many of its old walls are going." + +"There are still enough left to serve as a very fair fortress," +remarked Singleton. "I was down there two years ago when we bought +some herds from Perez, and lost quite a number from lack of water +before the vaqueros got them to La Partida wells. It is a long way +between water holes over in Altar." + +"Sure," agreed Pike, "but if the old mine was near a mission, and the +mission was near the ranch of Soledad it should not be a great stunt +to find it, and there must be water and plenty of it if they do much +in cattle." + +"They don't these days," said Singleton. "Perez sold a lot rather than +risk confiscation, and I heard they did have some raids down there. I +thought I had heard most of the lost mine legends of western Sonora, +but I never heard of that one, and I never heard that Fred Bernard +went looking for it." + +The old woman lifted her brows and shrugged her shoulders with the +suggestion that Sonora might hold many secrets from the amicable +gentleman. But a little later, in an inquiry from Rhodes she +explained. + +"See you, señor, Dario Ruiz was _compadre_ of Señor Alfredo Bernard, +Americanos not understanding all in that word, and the grandfather of +Dario was major-domo of the rancho of Soledad at that time the Apaches +are going down and killing the people there. That is when the mine was +lost. On the skin of a sheep it was told in writing all about it, and +Dario had that skin. Sure he had! It was old and had been buried in +the sand, and holes were eaten in it by wild things, but Don Alfredo +did read it, and I was hearing the reading of it to Dario Ruiz, but of +what use the reading when that mine bewitched itself into hiding?" + +"But the writing? Did that bewitch itself away also?" demanded +Billie. + +"How could I be asking of that when Dario was dead down there in the +desert, and his wife, that was my cousin Anita, was crazy wild against +Don Alfredo the father of you! Ai, that was a bad time, and Don +Alfredo with black silence on him for very sorrow. And never again in +his life did he take the Sonora trail for adventures or old treasure. +And it is best that you keep to a mind like his mind, señorita. He +grew wise, but Dario died for that wisdom, and in Sonora someone +always dies before wisdom is found. First it was two priests went to +death for that gold, and since that old day many have been going. It +is a witchcraft, and no blessing on it!" + +"Well, I reckon I'd be willing to cross my fingers, and take the +trail if I could get started right," decided Rhodes. "It certainly +sounds alluring." + +"I did go in once," confessed Pike, "but we had no luck, struck a +_temporale_ where a Papago had smallpox, and two dry wells where there +should have been water. My working pardner weakened at Paradones and +we made tracks for the good old border. That is no trail for a lone +white man." + +"But the writing, the writing!" persisted Billie. "Tia Luz, you are a +gold mine yourself of stories, but this one you never told, and I am +crazy about it! You never forget anything, and the writing you _could_ +not,--so we know you have the very words of that writing!" + +"Yes, that is true too, for the words were not so many, and where some +words had been the wild things had eaten holes. The words said that +from the mine of El Alisal the mission of Soledad could be seen. And +from the door of Soledad it was one look, one only, to the blue +cañoncita where the alisal tree was growing, and water from the gold +of the rose washed the roots of that tree." + +"Good God!" muttered Rhodes staring at the old lady who sat nodding +her head in emphasis until her jet and gold earrings were all +a-twinkle. "It was as easy as _that_,--yet no one found it?" + +"But señor,"--and it was plain to be seen that Doña Luz was enjoying +herself hugely as the center of all attention, "the two padres who +made that writing met their death at that place--and it was said the +_barbaros_ at last killed also the grandfather of Dario, anyway he did +die, and the women were afraid to tell even a new padre of that +buried writing for the cause that it must have been accursed when it +killed all people. That is how it was, and that mission was forsaken +after that time. A Spaniard came up from Sinaloa and hunted gold and +built Soledad hacienda where that mission had been in that old time, +but no one ever found any more of gold than the chickens always are +picking, a little here, a little there with a gravel in the craw. No +señor, only once the red gold--red as flame--went out of Altar on a +mule to the viceroy in Mexico, and the padres never lived to send any +more, or see their brothers again. The men who dug that gold dug also +their grave. Death goes with it." + +"Ugh!" and Billie shivered slightly, and looked at Rhodes, "don't you +go digging it!" + +His eyes met hers across the table. It was only for an instant, and +then Billie got very busy with her coffee which she had forgotten. + +"Oh, I'd travel with a mascot to ward off evil," he said. "Would you +give me a bead from your string?" + +She nodded her head, but did not speak. No one noticed them, for Cap +Pike was telling of the old native superstition that the man who first +found an ore bed found no good luck for himself, though the next man +might make a fortune from it. + +"Why," he continued in evidence, "an Indian who finds even a vein of +special clay for pottery doesn't blaze a trail to it for anyone else. +He uses it if he wants it, because his own special guardian god +uncovered it for him, but if it is meant for any other man, that other +man's god will lead him to it when the time comes. That is how they +reason it out for all the things covered by old Mother Earth. And I +reckon the redder the gold the more secret the old _barbaros_ would be +about it, for gold is their sun-god medicine, or symbol, or +something." + +"With white priests scattered through Sonora for two centuries +one would suppose those old superstitions would be pretty well +eradicated," remarked Singleton. + +Doña Luz glanced at him as at a child who must be let have his own +ideas so long as they were harmless, but Pike laughed. + +"Lord love you, Singleton, nothing eradicates superstition from +the Indian mind, or any other mind! All the creeds of the earth are +built on it, and a lot of the white ones are still alive and going +strong! And as for priests, why man, the Indian priests are bred of +those tribes, and were here before the white men came from Spain. It's +just about like this: If 'Me und Gott' and the U-boats took a notion +to come over and put a ball and chain on all of so-called free +America, there might be some pacifist mongrels pretend to like it, +and just dote on putting gilt on the chain, and kow-towing to that +blood-puddin' gang who are raising hell in Belgium. But would the +thoroughbreds like it? Not on your life! Well, don't you forget +there were a lot of thoroughbreds in the Indian clans even if some +of their slaves did breed mongrels! And don't forget that the ships +from overseas are dumping more scrub stock on the eastern shores right +now than you'll find in any Indian rancheria either here in Pima or +over in Sonora. The American isn't to blame for all the seventeen +dozen creeds they bring over,--whether political or religious, and I +reckon that's about the way the heads of the red clans feel. They are +more polite than we are about it, but don't you think for a moment +that the European invasion ever changed religion for the Indian +thoroughbred. No sir! He is still close to the earth and the +stars, and if he thinks they talk to him--well, they just _talk to +him_, and what they tell him isn't for you or me to hear,--or to sit +in judgment on either, if it comes to that! We are the outsiders." + +"Now, Cap," said Billie, "I'm going to take it away. It's too near +your elbow, and you have had a double dose for every single one you've +been handing out! You can take a rest until the others catch up. Tia +Luz, give him a cup of coffee good and strong to help get his politics +and religion straightened out." + +Pike laughed heartily with the rest of them, and took the coffee. + +"All right, dear little Buttercup. Any medicine you hand out is good +to me. But say, that dope about hidden ores may not be all Indian at +that, for I recollect that mountaineers of Tennessee had the same +hunch about coal veins, and an old lead vein where one family went for +their ammunition. They could use it and they did, but were mighty sure +they'd all be hoodooed if they uncovered it for anyone else, so I +reckon that primitive dope does go pretty far back. I'll bet it was +old when Tubal Cain first began scratching around the outcroppings by +his lonesomes." + +Conrad sauntered along the corridor and seated himself, flicking idly +some leather thongs he had cut out from a green hide with a curved +sheath knife rather fine and foreign looking. Singleton called him to +come in and have coffee, but he would not enter, pleading his +evil-smelling pipe as a reason. + +"It can't beat mine for a downright bachelor equipment," affirmed +Pike, "but I've scandalized this outfit enough, or thereabout, and +that venison has killed all our appetites until breakfast, so why hang +around where ungrateful children swat a man's dearest hobbies?" + +"If you think you'll get rid of me that way you had better think +again," said Billie. "I don't mind your old smokes, or any other of +your evil ways, so long as you and Tia Luz tell us more bewitched mine +stories. Say, Cap, wouldn't it be great if that old sheepskin was +found again, and we'd all outfit for a Sonora _pasear_, and----" + +"We would not!" decided the old man patting her hair. "You, my lady, +will take a _pasear_ to some highbrow finishing school beyond the +ranges, and I'll hit the trail for Yuma in a day or two, but at the +present moment you can wind up the music box and start it warbling. +That supper sure was so perfect nothing but music will do for a +finish!" + +The men drifted out in the corridor and settled into the built-in +seats of the plazita, though Rhodes remained standing in the portal +facing inward to the patio where the girl's shimmering white dress +fluttered in the moonlight beside the shadowy bulk of Tia Luz. + +He lit a cigarette and listened for the music box Pike had suggested, +but instead he heard guitar strings, and the little ripple of +introduction to the old Spanish serenade _Vengo a tu ventana_, "I come +to your window." + +He turned and glanced towards the men who were discussing horse +shipments, and possibilities of the Prussian sea raiders sinking +transports on the way to France, but decided his part of that +discussion could wait until morning. + +Tia Luz had lit the lamp in the _sala_, and the light streamed across +the patio where the night moths fluttered about the white oleanders. +He smiled in comical self-derision as he noticed the moths, but tossed +away the cigarette and followed the light. + +When Captain Pike indulged the following morning in sarcastic comment +over Kit's defection, the latter only laughed at him. + +"Shirk business? Nothing doing. I was strictly on the job listening to +local items on treasure trails instead of powwowing with you all over +the latest news reports from the Balkans. Soon as my pocket has a +jingle again, I am to get to the French front if little old U. S. +won't give me a home uniform, but in the meantime Doña Luz Moreno is +some reporter if she is humored, and I mean to camp alongside every +chance I get. She has the woman at the _cantina_ backed off the map, +and my future Spanish lessons will be under the wing of Doña Luz. Me +for her!" + +"Avaricious young scalawag!" grunted Pike. "You'd study African +whistles and clicks and clacks if it blazed trail to that lost gold +deposit! Say, I sort of held the others out there in front thinking I +would let you get acquainted with little Billie, and you waste the +time chinning about death in the desert, and dry camps to that +black-and-tan talking machine." + +Kit only laughed at him. + +"A record breaker of a moon too!" grumbled the old man. "Lord!--lord! +at your age I'd crawled over hell on a rotten rail to just sit +alongside a girl like Billie--and you pass her up for an old hen with +a mustache, and a gold trail!" + +Kit Rhodes laughed some more as he got into the saddle and headed for +the Granados corral, singing: + + _Oh--I'll cut off my long yellow hair + To dress in men's array, + And go along with you, my dear + Your waiting man to be!_ + +He droned out the doleful and incongruous love ballad of old lands, +and old days, for the absurd reason that the youth of the world in his +own land beat in his blood, and because in the night time one of the +twinkling stars of heaven had dropped down the sky and become a girl +of earth who touched a guitar and taught him the words of a Spanish +serenade,--in case he should find a Mexican sweetheart along the +border! + +For to neither of the young, care-free things, had come a glimmer of +fore-vision of the long tragic days, treasure trails and desert +deaths, primitive devotions and ungodly vengeance, in which the +threads of their own lives would be entangled before those two ever +heard the music of the patio again--together. + + _If in Holland fields I met a maid + All handsome fond and gay, + And I should chance to love her + What would my Mary say?_ + + _What would I say, dear Willie? + That I would love her too, + And I would step to the one side + That she might speak with you!_ + +"Yes, you would--not!" he stated in practical prose to no one in +particular. "Not if you were our girl, would she, Pardner?" + +Pardner tossed up his head in recognition of the comradeship in the +tone, and Kit Rhodes became silent, and rode on to the corrals, +happily smiling at some new thoughts. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +A VERIFIED PROPHECY OF SEÑORITA BILLIE + + +That smile was yet with him when he saw the herd and the vaqueros +coming up from the water tanks, and noted Conrad and Tomas Herrara +talking together beside Conrad's automobile. + +The beat of the many hoofs prevented the two men from noting one horse +near them, and words of Conrad came to him clearly. + +"It has to be that way. You to go instead of Miguel. You have enough +English, you can do it." + +Tomas Herrara muttered something, evidently reluctance, for again +Conrad's words were heard. + +"But think of the _dinero_, much of money to you! And that fool swine +will not see what is under his nose. You can do it, sure you can! +There is no danger. The blame will be to him if it is found; my agent +will see to that. Not you but the gringo will be the one to answer the +law. You will know nothing." + +He spoke in Spanish rapidly, while both men watched the approaching +vaqueros. + +The smile had gone from Kit's face, and he was puzzled to follow the +words, or even trust his own ears. + +"_Bueno_," said Herrara with a nod of consent. "Since Miguel is +hurt----" + +"Whoa, Pardner," sang out Rhodes, back of them as he slid out of the +saddle. "Good morning, gentlemen. Do you say Miguel is hurt, Herrara? +How comes that?" + +The face of Herrara went a curious gray, and his lips blue and +apparently stiff for he only murmured, "_Buenas dias_, señor," and +gulped and stared at Conrad. But the surprise of Conrad, while +apparent, was easily accounted for, and he was too well poised to be +startled unduly by any emergency. + +"Hah! Is it you, Rhodes, so early? Yes, Miguel is reported hurt over +Poso Verde way. Not serious, but for the fact that he was the one to +go with you on the horse shipment, and now another must go. Perhaps +his brother here." + +"Oh--ah--yes," assented Rhodes thoughtfully. He was not so old as +Conrad, and quite aware he was not so clever, and he didn't know their +game, so he strove as he could to hold the meaning of what he had +heard, and ended rather lamely: "Well, too bad about Miguel, but if +you, Tomas, are going instead, you had better get your war togs ready. +We start tonight from the Junction, and have three hours to get +ready." + +"Three hours only!" again Herrara seemed to weaken. To start in three +hours a journey into the unknown far East of the Americano was beyond +his imaginings. He shrugged his shoulders, tossed his hands outwards +in despair, and turned toward the barns. + +Conrad looked after him in irritation, and then smiled at Rhodes. He +had a rather ingratiating smile, and it the first time he had betrayed +it to Kit. + +"These explosive Latins," he said derisively. "I think I can make him +reasonable, and you go forward with your own preparations." + +He followed Herrara, leaving Kit staring after them wondering. His +glance then rested on the automobile, and he noted that it had not +merely come out of the garage for the usual work of the day. It had +been traveling somewhere, for the wheels were crusted with mud--mud +not there at sunset yesterday. And in that section of Pima there was +no water to make mud nearer than Poso Verde, and it was over there +Miguel Herrara had been hurt! + +He had only three hours, and no time to investigate. There were rumors +of smuggling all along the line over there, and strange conferences +between Mexican statesmen and sellers of Connecticut hardware of an +explosive nature. He recalled having heard that Singleton was from +Connecticut, or was it Massachusetts? Anyway, it was over there at the +eastern edge of the country somewhere, and it was also where plots and +counter plots were pretty thick concerning ammunition; also they were +more complicated on the Mexican border. He wondered if Singleton was +as simple as he looked, for he certainly was paying wages to a mixed +lot. Also it was a cinch to run any desirable contraband from Granados +across to La Partida and from there hellwards. + +He wondered if Singleton knew? But Singleton had a capable business +manager, while he, Rhodes, was only a range boss with the understanding +that he adjust himself to any work a white man might qualify for. + +The mere fact that once he had sat at the family table might not, in +Singleton's eyes, warrant him in criticizing an approved manager, or +directing suspicion towards him. He might speak to Pike, but he +realized that Pike was not taken very seriously; only welcomed because +Billie liked him, and because an American ranch usually had the open +door for the old timers of his caliber. + +Also Pike had told him plainly that he must not be expected to mix up +in the Mexican game for any reason whatsoever. + +"I reckon it's up to us, Pardner," he decided, as he called directions +to the different men loading the wagons with oats and barley for the +stock on the trail. There were three mule teams ready for the railroad +junction where the cars were waiting on the siding, or would be by +night. + +Some of the men were getting the mules straightened out in the harness +while others were roping horses in the corral. It would take most of +the home outfit to lead and drive them to the railroad, which meant +one lonely and brief period of hilarity at the only joint where +"bootleg" whiskey could be secured by the knowing, and a "movie" +theater could add to other simple entertainments for the gentle Juans +of the ranges. Neither Conrad nor Herrara were visible, and he +presumed the latter was making arrangements for the sudden and +unexpected departure from his family, but he knew he had not attempted +to ride home for a farewell greeting, because his horse still stood +near Conrad's automobile where he had first overheard that curious +conversation between the two men. + +After a leisurely breakfast Pike was meandering towards the stock +yard on his mule with the intent to trail along to the Junction with +the boys. Rhodes, catching sight of him, looked hopefully but +unsuccessfully for Singleton. The minutes were slipping by, and no +definite instructions had been given him concerning the three car +loads of horses. Did Conrad mean to leave every detail until the last +moment and make difficulties for the new man? Was that the way he got +rid of the Americans he didn't want? He recalled the prophecy of +Billie that he would not hold his job. Well, he would show her! + +With memories of the white and gold vision of the previous night, and +the guitar in the _sala_, and the moonlight touching all to +enchantment, he had fully decided that he would not only hold the job, +but on some future day he would be business manager. And he'd find +that lost mine or know the reason why, and he would---- + +For after all Kit Rhodes was only twenty-three and all of life ahead +of him for dreams! He was wondering what he could fetch back from the +East that would be acceptable to a witchy elf of a butterfly girl who +already had, to his simple estimate, all the requisites of a princess +royal. + +Juanito came loping past, and Rhodes asked for his father. + +"I am myself looking for him," said the boy. "He has there on his +horse all the things for Tio Miguel, but Miguel not coming, and I +wonder who goes? Maybe it will be me. What you think?" he asked +hopefully. + +Kit did not answer, for Juanito's mention of the articles for Miguel +brought from home by Tomas, and still fastened to the back of the +saddle, drew his attention to the articles tied there--some clothing +badly wrapped, a pair of black shoes tied together with brown strings, +and under them, yet plainly visible, a canvas water bag. + +There was nothing unusual in a water bag or a canteen tied back of any +saddle in the dry lands, it was the sensible thing to do, but Kit +found himself staring at this particular water bag stupidly, +remembering where he had seen it last. It had been only partly full +then, but now it was plump and round as if water-filled; yet one +glance told him it was not wet, and moreover, he had noted the day +before a hole in the side tied up in a hard knot by twine, and there +was the knot! + +Yet it might be a stock of _pinole_, parched corn, as evidence of +Miguel's forethought against privation on the long eastern trail. He +could think of several reasonable things to account for an old water +bag tied to a Mexican's saddle, but reason did not prevent his glance +turning to it again and again. + +The fear in Narcisco's eyes came back to him, and his attempt to cover +his harmless playthings at the coming of the unexpected American. He +wondered---- + +"Say, Bub, I've got ten dollars to invest in some little trinket for +Billie boy, and I want you to put it down in your jeans and invest it +in whatever it will cover," said Captain Pike at his elbow, clinking +the silver coin meditatively. "You'll have time to see plenty +attractive things for the money there in the streets of New York, or +Baltimore, or whichever of the dock towns you'll be heading for." + +Rhodes accepted the coin, absently frowning. + +"That's one of the dark secrets not yet divulged by this curious +management," he growled. "I'm to go, or so I was told, but have been +given no instructions. Where's Singleton?" + +"Just rounded up for breakfast." + +"Is he coming down here to the corrals?" + +"Not that I could notice. Pedro got in from the Junction with last +Sunday's papers, and he and Billie have the picture sheets spread +around, having a weekly feast." + +Kit strode over to his mount, and then halted, glancing towards the +house a half mile away, and then at the telephone poles along the wide +lane. + +"Say, there's a telephone somewhere down here at the works, connecting +with the hacienda, isn't there?" + +"Sure, in that hallway between the two adobes where the bunk house +ends and offices begin." + +Kit started briskly towards the long bunk house, and then turned to +Pike. + +"Do me a favor, Captain. Stay right there till I get back, and don't +let anyone take that Herrara horse away, or his load!" + +"All right, but load!--why, the spotted rat hasn't got a load for a +jack rabbit, load!" and Pike sniffed disdain at the little knobs of +baggage dangling from the rawhide strings. He didn't think the subdued +animal needed watching--still, if Kit said so---- + +At the same time Kit was calling the house, and hearing in reply a +soft whistle of the meadow lark, and then a girl's laugh. + +"Your music is good to listen to, Lark-child," he called back, "and +your ears are perfectly good at telling who's who, but this is a +strictly business day, and it is Mr. Singleton I need to speak with." + +"Still holding your job, or asking for your time?" came the mocking +voice. + +"You bet I'm holding my job, also I am on it, and want the boss." + +"Well, sometimes you know the boys call me the boss. What can we do +for you, Mr. Kit Rhodes?" + +"I'll use all three of my Spanish cuss words in a minute, if you don't +be reasonable," he thundered. + +"Is that a bribe?" came sweetly over the wire, and when he muttered +something impatiently, she laughed and told him it was not fair to use +another language when he had promised Spanish. + +"Listen to me, young lady, if I can't get Singleton on the wire I'll +get on a horse and go up there!" + +"And you listen to me, young man, it wouldn't do you a bit of good, +for just now he is nearly having a fit, and writing telegrams about +something more important than the horse corrals." + +"There is nothing more important this day and date," insisted Kit. + +"Well, if you were as strictly a white dove advocate as Papa Singleton +is, and as neutral, and then saw a full page Sunday supplement of your +pet picture fraulein, working for your pet charity and sifting poison +into hospital bandages and powdered glass in jellies for the soldiers +of the Allies, I reckon you would change your mind." + +"Powdered glass!--in _feed_!" repeated Kit, stunned at the words and +the sudden thought they suggested. "Great God, girl, you don't have +to go to the eastern papers for _that_! You've got the same trick +right here in Granados this minute! Why--damn you!" + +The receiver fell from his hand as a crushing blow was dealt him from +the door at his back. He heard a girl's scream in the distance as he +grappled with Conrad and saved himself a second blow from the +automobile wrench in the manager's hands. It fell to the tiles between +them, and Rhodes kicked it to one side as he struck and struck again +the white, furious face of Conrad. + +"The wrench! Tomas, the wrench! Give it to him! The Americano would +murder me!" shouted Conrad. + +Tomas had other things to think of. He had heard as much as Conrad of +the telephone discourse, and was aware of his pinto standing placidly +not fifty feet away, with all the damning evidence in the case tied to +the back of the saddle! + +Juanito, however, ran like a cat at his master's call and caught up +the wrench, but halted when Pike closed on his shoulder and pressed a +cold little circle of blue steel against his ribs. + +"Not this time, _muchacho_!" he shrilled, "drop it! This is a man's +game, and you're out." + +The men came running, and others attempted to interfere, but the +little old man waved the gun at them and ordered them to keep their +distance. + +"No crowding the mourners!" he admonished them gleefully. "I've a +hunch your man started it, and my man will finish it. I don't know +what it's about, Kit, but give him hell on suspicion! Go to it, +boy,--do it again! Who-ee!--that was a sock-dolager! Keep him off +you, Kit, he's a gouger, and has the weight. Give it to him standing, +and give it to him good! That's it! Ki-yi! Hell's bells and them +a-chiming!" + +For the finale of that whirl of the two striking, staggering, cursing +men, was unexpectedly dramatic. They had surged out into the open, but +Conrad, little by little and step by step, or rather stagger by +stagger, had given way before the mallet-like precision of the younger +man's fists until Kit's final blow seemed actually to lift him off his +feet and land him--standing--against the adobe wall. An instant he +quivered there, and then fell forward, glassy eyed and limp. + +Singleton's car came whirling down the lane. Billie leaped from it +before it stopped, and ran in horror to the prone figure. One of the +older Mexicans tried to ward her off from the sight. + +"No good, señorita, it is the death of him," he said gently. "One +stroke like that on the heart and it is--_adios_!" + +"What in the name of God--" began Singleton, and Kit wiped the blood +from his eyes and faced him, staggering and breathless. + +"Get him water! Get busy!" he ordered. "I don't think he's done for, +not unless he has some mighty weak spot he should have had labelled +before he waded into this." + +The blood was still trickling from the cut in his head made by the +wrench, and he presented an unholy appearance as they stared at him. + +"I'll explain, Singleton, for I reckon you are white. I'll--after +while----" + +"You'll explain nothing to me!" retorted Singleton "If the man dies +you'll explain to a jury and a judge; otherwise you'd better take +yourself out of this country." + +Kit blinked at those who were lifting Conrad and listening to his +heart, which evidently had not stopped permanently. + +"But give me a chance, man!" persisted Rhodes. "I need some mending +done on this head of mine,--then I'll clear it up. Why, the evidence +is right here--powdered glass for the stock at the far end of the +trail--Herrara knows--Conrad's game--and----" + +He did not know why words were difficult and the faces moved in +circles about him. The blood soaking his shirt and blouse, and +dripping off his sleeve was cause enough, but he did not even know +that. + +"Take him away, Captain Pike," said Singleton coldly. "He is not +wanted any longer on either of the ranches. It's the last man I hire, +Conrad can do it in future." + +"Conrad, eh?" grunted Kit weakly, "you're a nice easy mark for the +frankfurter game,--you and your pacifist bunch of near-traitors! Why +man----" + +But Singleton waved him away, and followed the men who were carrying +Conrad to the bunk house. + +"All right, _all_ right! But take care you don't meet with a nastier +accident than that before you are done with this game!" he said +shaking his fist warningly after Singleton, and then he staggered to +his horse where Pike was waiting for him. + +He got in the saddle, and reeled there a moment, conscious of hostile, +watchful eyes,--and one girl's face all alone in the blur. + +"Say," he said, "I heard you scream. You thought it was you I swore +at. You're wrong there. But you are some little prophetess,--_you_ +are! The job's gone, and Herrara's got away with the evidence, and the +jig's up! But it wasn't you I cussed at--not--at--all! Come on, Pike. +This new ventilator in my head is playing hell its own way. Come +on--let's go by-bye!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +IN THE ADOBE OF PEDRO VIJIL + + +"There ain't no such animal," decided Kit Rhodes seated on the edge of +the bed in Pedro Vigil's adobe. His head was bandaged, his face a +trifle pale and the odor of medicaments in the shadowy room of the one +deep-barred window. "No, Captain, no man, free, white and twenty-one +_could_ be such a fool. Can't Singleton see that if Conrad's story was +true he'd have the constable after me for assault with intent to kill? +He's that sort!" + +"Well, Singleton thinks Conrad would be justified in having you +prosecuted, and jailed, and fined, and a few other things, but for the +reputation of Granados they let you down easy. You know it's _the_ +dovery for the Pass-up-the-fists of this section, and what the Arizona +papers would do would be comic if they ever got hold of the fact that +Singleton picked a new bird for the dove cage, and the dratted thing +changed before their eyes to a fractious game rooster swinging a right +like the hind leg of a mule! No, Bub, we're orderly, peaceable folks +around here, so for the sake of our reputation Singleton has prevailed +on his manager to be merciful to you, and Conrad has in true pacifist +spirit let himself be prevailed upon." + +"Which means," grinned Kit, "that I'm to be put off my guard, and done +for nicely and quietly some moonless night when I take the trail! And +he reports me either drunk or temporarily insane, does he? Well, when +the next time comes I'll change that gentleman's mind." + +"Shucks, Bub! Thank a fool's luck that your skull was only scratched, +and don't go planning future wars. I tell you we are peace doves +around here, and you are a stray broncho kicking up an undesirable +dust in our front yard. Here is your coin. Singleton turned it over to +me and I receipted for it, and we have enough between us to hit the +Sonora trail, and there's not a bit of use in your hanging around +here. You have no evidence. You are a stranger who ambled in, heard a +sensational newspaper report of anti-ally criminal intent, and on the +spot accused the highly respectable Granados rancho of indulging in +that same variety of hellishness! Now there is your case in a +nutshell, Bub, and you wouldn't get the authorities to believe you in +a thousand years!" + +"What about you?" + +"Oh, I have just little enough sense to believe your hunch is right, +but that won't get you anywhere. They think I'm loco too! I've an idea +there is a lot more and rottener activities down south of the line +with which our Teutonic peace arbitrator is mixed up. But he's been on +this job five years, all the trails are his, and an outsider can't get +a look-in! Now Miguel Herrara has been doing gun-running across the +border for someone, and Miguel was not only arrested by the customs +officer, but Miguel was killed two nights ago--shot with his own gun +so that it looks like suicide. Suicide nothing! His chief, whoever he +is, was afraid Miguel would blunder or weaken under government +persuasion, so Miguel was let out of the game. That case is closed, +and no evidence against anyone. I reckon everyone knows that the guns +and ammunition sneaked over is headed for Rancho Soledad. The owner of +Soledad, José Perez, is the valued friend of our nice little Conrad, +and it happens that Conrad left Granados this morning for that +direction, ostensibly to negotiate with the political powers of Sonora +concerning a military guard for La Partida in case revolutionary +stragglers should ride north for fresh saddle-horses. All appeals to +the neutral chair warmers at Washington wins us no protection from +that source;--they only have guns and men enough to guard some +cherished spots in Texas." + +"Well, if the Teuton is able for a trail I reckon he got nothing worse +in the scrap than I, even if he did look like a job for the +undertaker. That fellow travels on the strength of his belly and not +the strength of his heart." + +"So you say," observed Pike, grinning, "but then again there are +others of us who travel on nerve and gall and never get any further! +Just put this in your pipe, Bub, and don't forget it: Conrad is +_organised_ for whatever deviltry he is up to! There is no 'happen so' +in his schemes. He is a cog in some political wheel, and it's a +fifty-fifty gamble as to whether the wheel is German or Mexican, but +it is no little thing, and is not to be despised." + +"But I can't see how Singleton, if Singleton is square even----" + +"Singleton is a narrow gauge disciple of Universal Peace by +decree--which, translated, means plain damn fool. Lord, boy, if a pack +of prairie wolves had a man surrounded, would he fold his hands with +the hope that his peaceful attitude would appeal to their better +instincts or would he reach for a gun and give them protective pills? +The man of sense never goes without his gun in wolf land, but +Singleton--well, in peace times he could have lived a long lifetime, +and no one ever guessed what a weak sister he was, but he's sure out +of place on the border." + +"I'm tired wearing this halo," observed Rhodes, referring to the white +handkerchief around his head. "Also some of the dope you gave me seems +to be evaporating from my system, and I feel like hitting the Piman +breeze. Can we strike trail tomorrow?" + +"We cannot. Doña Luz has been dosing out the dope for you--Mexican +women are natural doctors with their own sort of herbs--and she says +three days before you go in the sun. I've a notion she sort of let the +Mexicans think that you were likely to cash in, and you bled so like a +stuck pig that it was easy enough to believe the worst." + +"Perhaps that's why Conrad felt safe in leaving me outside of jail. +With Doña Luz as doctor, and a non-professional like you as assistant, +I reckon he thought my chance of surviving that monkey wrench assault +was slim, mighty slim!" + +"Y--yes," agreed Pike, "under ordinary conditions he might have been +justified in such surmise, but that would be figuring on the normal +thickness of the normal civilized skull, but yours--why, Bub, all I'm +puzzling over now is how it happens that the monkey wrench was only +twisted a mite, not broke at all!" + +"You scandalous old varmint!" grinned Kit. "Go on with your weak-minded +amusements, taking advantage of a poor lone cripple,--refused by the +army, and a victim of the latest German atrocity! I suppose--I +suppose,"--he continued darkly, "everyone on and around Granados agrees +that I was the villain in the assault?" + +"I couldn't say as to that," returned Pike judicially. "Doña Luz would +dose you, and plaster you, just the same if you had killed a half +dozen instead of knocking the wind out of one. She's pretty fine and +all woman, but naturally since they regard you as my _companero_ they +are shy about expressing themselves when I'm around--all except +Singleton--and you heard him." + +"Good and plenty," agreed Kit. "Say, I'm going to catch up on sleep +while I've a chance, and you rustle along and get any tag ends of +things needed for the trail. I'm going to strike for Mesa Blanca, as +that will take us up into the country of that Alisal mine. If we go +broke there is Mesa Blanca ranch work to fall back on for a grub +stake, but from what I hear we can dry wash enough to buy corn and +flour, and the hills are full of burro meat. We'll browse around until +we either strike it rich, or get fed up with trying. Anyway, +_Companero_, we will be in a quiet, peaceful pastoral land, close to +nature, and out of reach of Teuton guile and monkey wrenches. _Buenas +noches_, señor. I'm asleep!" + +Pike closed the door, and went from the semi-dark of the adobe out +into the brilliant sunshine where Billie, with a basket, was waiting +under the _ramada_ with Merced, and Merced looked gloomy lest Pedro +should be blamed by Señor Singleton for practically turning his family +out of the adobe that it might be given over to the loco Americano. + +"Tomorrow, can he go?" she asked hopefully. "Me, I have a fear. Not +before is the adobe here watched by hidden men at night, and that is +very bad! Because that he is friend to you I say to everybody that I +think the Americano is dying in our house, but today he talks, also he +is laughing. No more sick?" + +"No more sick, sure not, but it will be one more day. A man does not +bleed like a gored bull and ride the next day under a sky hot enough +to fry eggs. The tea of Doña Luz drove off the fever, and he only +sleeps and talks, and sleeps again, but sick? Not a bit!" + +"Nor--nor sorry, I reckon?" ventured Billie. + +"Why, no child, not that I could notice. That scalawag doesn't seem to +have much conscience concerning his behavior." + +"Or his language!" she added. + +"Sure, that was some invocation he offered up! But just between pals, +Billie, you ought to have been in hearing." + +"I--I don't suppose he even remembers that I was," she remarked, and +then after a silence, "or--or even mentioned--us?" + +"Why, no, Billie. You made the right guess when you sized him up and +thought he couldn't hold the job. He certainly doesn't belong, Billie, +for this ranch is the homing nest of the peace doves, and he's just an +ungainly young game rooster starting out with a dare against the +world, and only himself for a backer. Honest,--if that misguided youth +had been landed in jail, I don't reckon there's anyone in Arizona with +little enough sense to bail him out." + +"Likely not," said Billie. "Well, there's the basket from Tia Luz, and +I might as well go home." + + + + +CHAPTER V + +AN "ADIOS"--AND AFTER + + +Two days later in the blue clear air of the Arizona morning a sage hen +slipped with her young through the coarse grass by the irrigation +ditch, and a flock of quail raised and fluttered before the quick +rhythmic beat of a loping horse along the trail in the mesquite +thicket. + +The slender gallant figure of his rider leaned forward looking, +listening at every turn, and at the forks of the trail where a clump +of squat mesquite and giant sahuarro made a screen, she checked the +horse, and held her breath. + +"Good Pat, good horse!" she whispered. "They've got nothing that can +run away from us. We'll show them!" + +Then a man's quavering old voice came to her through the winding trail +of the arroya. It was lifted tunefully insistent in an old-time song +of the mining camps: + + _Oh, Mexico! we're coming, Mexico! + Our six mule team, + Will soon be seen, + On the trail to Mexico!_ + +"We made it, Pat!" confided the girl grimly. "We made it. Quiet +now--quiet!" + +She peered out through the green mesquite as Captain Pike emerged from +the west arroya on a gray burro, herding two other pack animals ahead +of him into the south trail. + +He rode jauntily, his old sombrero at a rakish angle, his eyes bright +with enthusiasm supplied by that which he designated as a morning +"bracer," and his long gray locks bobbed in the breeze as he swayed in +the saddle and droned his cheerful epic of the trail: + + _A--and when we've been there long enough, + And back we wish to go, + We'll fill our pockets with the shining dust + And then leave Mexico! + Oh--Mexico! + Good-bye my Mexico! + Our six mule team will then be seen + On the trail from Mexico._ + +"Hi there! you Balaam--get into the road and keep a-going, you ornery +little rat-tailed son-of-a-gun! Pick up your feet and travel, or I'll +yank out your back bone and make a quirt out of it! For----" + + _My name was Captain Kidd as I sailed + As I sailed, + My name was Captain Kidd, + As I sailed! + My name was Captain Kidd + And most wickedly I di-i-id + All holy laws forbid + As I sailed!_ + +The confessor of superlative wickedness droned his avowal in +diminishing volume as the burros pattered along the white dust of the +valley road, then the curve to the west hid them, and all was silence +but for the rustle of the wind in the mesquite and the far bay of +Singleton's hounds circling a coyote. + +But Pat pricked up his ears, and lifted his head as if feeling rather +than hearing the growing thud of coming hoofs. The girl waited until +they were within fifty feet, when she pursed up her lips and whistled +the call of the meadow lark. It sounded like a fairy bugle call across +the morning, and the roan was halted quickly at the forks of the +road. + +"Howdy, señorita?" he called softly. "I can't see you, but your song +beats the birds. Got a flag of truce? Willing to parley with the +enemy?" + +Then she emerged, eyeing him sulkily. + +"You were going without seeing me!" she stated with directness, and +without notice of the quizzical smile of comradeship. + +"Certainly was," he agreed. "When I got through the scrap with your +disciple of _kultur_, my mug didn't strike me as the right decoration +for a maiden's bower. I rode out of the scrap with my scratches, +taking joy and comfort in the fact that he had to be carried." + +"There was no reason for your being so--so brutal!" she decided +austerely. + +"Lord love you, child, I didn't need a reason--I only wanted an +excuse. Give me credit! I got away for fear I'd go loco and smash +Singleton for interfering." + +"Papa Phil only did his duty, standing for peace." + +"Huh, let the Neutral League do it! The trouble with Singleton is he +hasn't brains enough to lubricate a balance wheel,--he can't savvy a +situation unless he has it printed in a large-type tract. Conrad was +scared for fear I'd stumbled on a crooked trail of his and would tell +the boss, so he beat me to it with the lurid report that I made an +assault on him! This looks like it--not!" and he showed the slashes in +his sombrero to make room for the blue banda around his head. "Suppose +you tell that Hun of yours to carry a gun like a real hombre instead +of the tools of a second-story man. The neighbors could hear a gun, +and run to my rescue." + +The girl regarded his flippancy with disapproval. + +"He isn't my Hun," she retorted. "I could worry along without him on +our map,--but after all, I don't know a single definite thing against +him. Anyway, it's decided I've got to go away somewhere to school and +be out of the ranch squabbles. Papa Phil thinks I get in bad company +out here." + +"Meaning me?" + +"Well, he _said_ Captain Pike was demoralizing to the youthful mind. +He didn't mention you. And Cap certainly did go the limit yesterday!" + +"How so?" + +"Well, he went to the Junction for his outfit stuff----" + +"Yes, and never showed up at the adobe until the morning star was in +the sky!" + +[Illustration: "You poor kid, you have a hard time with the disreputables +you pick up."] + +"I know," she confessed. "I went with him. We stayed to see a Hart +picture at the theater, and had the time of our young lives. At supper +I announced that I was going to adopt Cap as a grandfather,--and then +of course he had to go and queer me by filling up on some rank whiskey +he had smuggled in with the other food! My stars!--he was put to bed +singing that he'd 'Hang his harp on a willow tree, and be off to the +wars again'--You needn't laugh!" + +But he did laugh, his blue eyes twinkling at her recital. + +"You poor kid! You have a hard time with the disreputables you pick +up. Sure they didn't warn you against speaking to this reprobate?" + +"Sure nothing!" was the boyish reply. "I was to be docked a month's +spending money if I dared go near Pedro Vijil's adobe again while you +were there, which was very foolish of Papa Phil!" she added +judicially. "I reckon he forgot they tried that before." + +"And what happened?" + +"I went down and borrowed double the amount from old Estevan, the +trader at the Junction, and gave him an order against the ranch. Then +Cap and I sneaked out a couple of three-year-olds and raced them down +in the cottonwood flats against some colts brought down by an old +Sierra Blanca Apache. We backed our nags with every peso, and that old +brown murderer won! But Cap and I had a wonderful day while our coin +lasted, and--and you were going away without saying good-bye!" + +Kit Rhodes, who had blankly stated that he owned his horse and saddle +and little beyond, looked at the spoiled plucky heiress of Granados +ranches, and the laughter went out of his eyes. + +She was beyond reason loveable even in her boyish disdain of +restriction, and some day she would come back from the schools a very +finished product, and thank the powers that be for having sent her out +of knowledge of happy-go-lucky chums of the ranges. + +Granados ranches had been originally an old Spanish grant reaching +from a branch of the intermittent Rio Altar north into what is now +Arizona, and originally was about double the size of Rhode Island. It +was roughly divided into the home or hacienda ranch in Arizona, and La +Partida, the cattle range portion, reaching far south into Sonora. +Even the remnant of the grant, if intelligently managed, would earn an +income satisfactory for a most extravagant princess royal such as its +present chatelaine seemed to Rhodes. + +But he had noted dubiously that the management was neither intelligent +nor, he feared, square. The little rancherias scattered over it in the +fertile valleys, were worked on the scratch gravel, ineffective Mexic +method by the Juans and Pedros whose family could always count on +mesquite beans, and _camotes_ if the fields failed. There was seed to +buy each year instead of raising it. There was money invested in +farming machinery, and a bolt taken at will from a thresher to mend a +plow or a buggy as temporarily required. The flocks of sheep on the +Arizona hills were low grade. The cattle and horse outfits were south +in La Partida, and the leakage was beyond reason, even in a danger +zone of the border land. + +All this Kit had milled around and around many times in the brief +while he had ranged La Partida. A new deal was needed and needed +badly, else Wilfreda Bernard would have debts instead of revenue if +Singleton let things drift much longer. Her impish jest that she was +a damsel in distress in need of a valiant knight was nearer to truth +than she suspected. He had an idiotic hungry desire to be that knight, +but his equipment of one horse, one saddle, and one sore head appeared +inadequate for the office. + +Thus Kit Rhodes sat his horse and looked at her, and saw things other +than the red lips of the girl, and the chiding gray eyes, and the +frank regret at his going. + +It was more profitable not to see that regret, or let it thrill a man +in that sweet warm way, especially not if the man chanced to be a +drifting ranger. She was only a gallant little girl with a genius for +friendships, and her loyalty to Pike extended to Pike's chum--that was +what Rhodes told himself! + +"Yes," he agreed, "I was going without any tooting of horns. No use in +Cap Pike and me hanging around, and getting you in bad with your +outfit." + +"As if I care!" she retorted. + +"You might some day," he said quietly. "School may make a lot of +difference; that, and changed surroundings for a year or two. But some +day you will be your own manager, and if I'm still on the footstool +and can be of service--just whistle, señorita." + +"Sure!" she agreed cheerfully. "I'll whistle the lark call, and you'll +know I need you, so that's settled, and we'll always be--be friends, +Trail-hunter." + +"We'll always be friends, Lark-child." + +"I wanted Cap Pike to let me in on this prospecting trip, wanted to +put in money," she said rather hesitant, "and he turned me down cold, +except for a measly ten dollars, 'smoke money' he called it. I reckon +he only took that to get rid of me, which I don't call friendly, do +you? And if things should go crooked with him, and he--well--sort of +needs help to get out, you'll let me know, won't you?" + +"Yes, if it seems best," he agreed, "but you won't be here; you'll be +shipped to a school, _pronto_!" + +"I won't be so far off the map that a letter can't reach me. Cap Pike +won't ever write, but I thought maybe you----" + +"Sure," agreed Rhodes easily. "We'll send out a long yell for help +whenever we get stuck." + +She eyed him darkly and without faith. + +"Wish I knew how to make that certain," she confessed. "You're only +dodging me with any kind of a promise to keep me quiet, just as Cap +did. I know! I'm jealous, too, because you're taking a trail I've +always wanted to take with Cap, and they won't let me because I'm a +girl." + +"Cheer up! When you are boss of the range you can outfit any little +_pasear_ you want to take, but you and I won't be in the same class +then, Lark-child." + +"Are you really going it blind, trailing with Cap into the Painted +Hills after that fascinating gold legend?" she demanded. "Or have you +some inside trail blazed for yourself? Daddy Pike is the best ever, +but he always goes broke, and if he isn't broke, he has a jug at his +saddle horn, so----" + +"Oh it's only a little jug this time, and he's had a fare-you-well +drink out of it with everyone in sight, so there's only one hilarious +evening left in the jug now. Just enough for a gladsome memory of +civilization." + +"Are you in deep on this prospect plan?" she persisted. + +"Well, not that you could notice. That is, I've got a three months' +job offered me down at Whitely's; that will serve the captain as +headquarters to range from until we add to our stake. Whitely is +rounding up stock for the Allies down Mesa Blanca way, and Pike will +feel at home there. Don't you worry, I'll keep an eye on Pike. He is +hilariously happy to get into that region with a partner." + +"I don't like it," she grumbled at him with sulky gray eyes. "Pedro +Vijil just came back from the south, and brought his sister's family +from San Rafael. They're refugees from the Federals because their men +joined Ramon Rotil, the rebel leader, and Merced is crying herself +crazy over the tales of war they tell. One of their girls was stolen, +and the mother and Tia Luz are both crying over that. So Papa Phil +says he's going to send me away where I won't hear such horrors. I +wish I was a man, and I'd join the army and get a chance to go over +and fight." + +"Huh!" grunted Rhodes skeptically, "some more of us had hopes! Our +army officers are both praying and cursing to get a chance to do the +same thing, but they are not getting it! So you and I, little girl, +will wait till some one pitches a bomb into that dovery on the +Potomac. Then we'll join the volunteers and swarm over after our +people." + +"Oh, yes, _you_ can! Men can do anything they like. I told you I was +jealous." + +"Never mind, Lark-child," he returned soothingly. "If I get over with +a gun, you can come along and toot a horn. There now, that's a +bargain, and you can practice tooting the lark's call until the time +comes." + +"I reckon I'll have plenty of time to toot myself black in the face +before you show up again at Granados," she prophesied ruefully, and he +laughed. + +"Whistle an' I'll come to you, Lassie," he said with sudden +recklessness, "and that's for _adios_, Billie." + +He held out his hand. + +"That's enough, Rhodes," said a voice back of them, and Singleton +walked forward. "When you got your time, you were supposed to leave +Granados. Is this what you've been hanging around for during the past +week?" + +Rhodes flamed red to his hair as he stared down at the elder man. + +"I reckon I'll not answer that now, Mr. Singleton," he said quietly. +"You may live to see you made a mistake. I hope you do, but you're +traveling with a rotten bunch, and they are likely to use a knife or a +rope on you any time you've played the goat long enough for them to +get their innings. I'm going without any grudge, but if I was an +insurance agent, trying to save money for my company, I'd sure pass +you by as an unsafe bet! Keep on this side of the line, Singleton, +while the revolution is whirling, and whatever you forget, don't +forget I said it! _Adios_, señorita, and--good luck!" + +"Good luck, Kit," she half whispered, "and _adios_!" + +She watched him as he rode away, watched him as he halted at the turn +of the trail and waved his hand, and Singleton was quietly observing +her the while. She frowned as she turned and caught him at it. + +"You thought he waited here, or planned to--to meet me," she flared. +"He was too square to tell you the truth, but it was I rode out here +to say good-bye, rode out and held him up! But I did not reckon anyone +would try to insult him for it!" + +Her stepfather regarded her grimly. She was angry, and very near to +tears. + +"Time you had your breakfast," he observed, "and all signs indicate I +should have sent you East last year, and kept you out of the +promiscuous mixups along the border. It's the dumping ground for all +sorts of stray adventurers, and no place for a girl to ride alone." + +"He seemed to think I am as able to look after myself as you," she +retorted. "You aren't fair to him because you take the word of Conrad, +but Conrad lies, and I'm glad he got thrashed good and plenty! Now +I've got that off my mind, I'll go eat a cheerful breakfast." + +Singleton walked silent beside her back to where his horse was grazing +by the roadside. + +"Huh!" grunted the girl with frank scorn. "So you got out of the +saddle to spy? Haven't you some black-and-tan around the ranch to do +your dirty work?" + +"It's just as well to be civil till you know what you are talking +about," he reminded her with a sort of trained patience. "I came out +without my breakfast just to keep the ranchmen from thinking what Tia +Luz thinks. She told me I'd find that fellow waiting for you. I didn't +believe it, but I see she is not so far wrong." + +He spoke without heat or feeling, and his tone was that of quiet +discussion with a man or boy, not at all that of a guardian to a girl. +His charge was evidently akin to the horse ranch of Granados as +described by the old ranger: Singleton had acquired them, but never +understood them. + +"Look here," said his protégée with boyish roughness, "that Dutchman +sees everything crooked, especially if there's an American in range, +and he prejudices you. Why don't you wake up long enough to notice +that he's framing some excuse to run off every decent chap who comes +on the place? I knew Rhodes was too white to be let stay. I saw that +as soon as he landed, and I told him so! What I can't understand is +that you won't see it." + +"A manager has to have a free hand, Billie, or else be let go," +explained Singleton. "Conrad knows horses, he knows the market, and is +at home with the Mexicans. Also he costs less than we used to pay, and +that is an item in a bad year." + +"I'll bet we lose enough cattle to his friends to make up the +difference," she persisted. "Rhodes was right when he called them a +rotten bunch." + +"Let us hope that when you return from school you will have lost the +major portion of your unsavory vocabulary," he suggested. "That will +be worth a herd of cattle." + +"It would be worth another herd to see you wake up and show you had +one good fight in you!" she retorted. "Conrad has all of the ranch +outfit locoed but me; that's why he passes on this school notion to +you. He wants me out of sight." + +"I should have been more decided, and insisted that you go last year. +Heaven knows you need it badly enough," sighed Singleton, ignoring her +disparaging comment on his own shortcomings. And then as they rode +under the swaying fronds of the palm drive leading to the ranch house +he added, "Those words of your bronco busting friend concerning the +life insurance risk sounded like a threat. I wonder what he meant by +it?" + +The telephone bell on the Granados Junction line was ringing when they +entered the patio. Singleton glanced at the clock. + +"A night letter probably," he remarked. "Go get your coffee, child, +it's a late hour for breakfast." + +Billie obeyed, sulkily seating herself opposite Tia Luz--who was bolt +upright behind the coffee urn, with a mien expressing dignified +disapproval. She inhaled a deep breath for forceful speech, but Billie +was ahead of her. + +"So it was you! You were the spy, and sent him after me!" + +"_Madre de Dios!_ and why not?" demanded the competent Luz. "You +stealing your own horse at the dawn to go with the old Captain Pike. I +ask of you what kind of a girl is that? Also Mercedes was here last +night tearing her hair because of the girls, her sister's daughters, +stolen away over there in Sonora. Well! is that not enough? That Señor +Kit is also too handsome. I was a fool to send the medicine with you +to Pedro's house. He looked a fine caballero but even a fine caballero +will take a girl when she follows after. _I_ know! And once in Sonora +all trails of a girl are lost. I know that too!" + +"You are all crazy, and I never saw him at Pedro's house, never!" said +the girl reaching for her coffee, and then suddenly she began to +laugh. "Did you think, did you make Papa Philip think, that I was +eloping like this?" and she glanced down at her denim riding dress. + +"And why not? Did I myself not steal out in a shift and petticoat the +first time I tried to run away with my Andreas? And beyond that not a +thing under God had I on but my coral beads, and the red satin +slippers of my sister Dorotea! She pulled my hair wickedly for those +slippers, and I got a _reata_ on my back from my grandmother for that +running away. I was thirteen years old then! But when I was nearly +sixteen we did get away, Andreas and I, and after that it was as well +for the grandmother to pay a priest for us, and let us alone. Ai-ji! +señorita, I am not forgetting what I know! And while I am here in +Granados there must be nothing less than a grand marriage, and may the +saints send the right man, for a wrong one makes hell in any house!" + +Billie forgot her sulkiness in her joy at the elopements of Tia Luz. +No wonder she distrusted an American girl who was allowed to ride +alone! + +But in the midst of her laughter she was reminded that Singleton was +still detained at the telephone in the adjoining room, and that his +rather high-pitched tones betrayed irritation. + +"Well, why can't you give the telegram to me? Addressed to Conrad? Of +course if it's a personal message I don't want it, but you say it is a +ranch matter--and important. Horses? What about them?" + +Billie, listening, sped from the table to his side, and putting her +hand over the telephone, whispered: + +"If Brehman, the secretary, was here, they'd give it to him. They +always do." + +Singleton nodded to her, and grew decided. + +"See here, Webster, one of our men was hurt, and Brehman took his +place and went East with that horse shipment. Mr. Conrad had to go +down in Sonora on business, and I am the only one here to take his +place. Just give me the message as you would give it to the secretary. +But you'd better type a copy and send by mail that I can put it on +file. All right? Yes, go ahead." + +Billie had quickly secured paper and pencil, but instead of taking +them, Singleton motioned for her to write the message. + + Adolf Conrad, Granados Ranch, Granados Junction, Arizona. Regret + to report September shipment horses developed ailment aboard + vessel, fifty per cent dead, balance probably of no military use, + + OGDEN, BURNS & CO. + +Word by word Singleton took the message and word by word Billie wrote +it down, while they stared at each other. + +"Developed ailment aboard vessel!" repeated Singleton. "Then there was +something wrong on shipboard, for there certainly is not here. We have +no sick horses on the ranch, never do have!" + +"But these people?" and Billie pointed to the signature. + +"Oh, they are the men who buy stock for the Allies, agents for the +French. They paid for the horses on delivery. They are safe, +substantial people. I can't understand----" + +But Billie caught his arm with a gasp of horror and enlightenment. + +"Papa Phil! Think--_think_ what Kit Rhodes said! _'Ground glass in the +feed at the other end of the road! Conrad's game--Herrara knows!'_ +Papa Phil,--Miguel Herrara was killed--killed! And Conrad tried to +kill Kit! Oh he did, he did! None of the Mexicans thought he would get +well, but Tia Luz cured him. And Cap Pike never went out of sight of +that adobe until Conrad had left the ranch, and I know Kit was right. +I know it, I know it! Oh, my horses, my beautiful horses!" + +"There, there! Why, child you're hysterical over this, which is--is +too preposterous for belief!" + +"Nothing is too preposterous for belief. You know that. Everybody +knows it in these days! Is Belgium too preposterous? Is that record of +poison and powdered glass in hospital supplies too preposterous? In +_hospital_ supplies! If they do that to wounded men, why not to +cavalry horses? Why Papa Phil----" + +"Hush--hush--hush!" he said pacing the floor, clasping his head in +both hands. "It is too terrible! What can we do? What? Who dare we +trust to even help investigate?" + +"Well, you might wire those agents for particulars, this is rather +skimpy," suggested Billie. "Come and get some breakfast and think it +over." + +"I might wire the office of the Peace Society in New York to----" + +"Don't you do it!" protested Billie. "They may have furnished the +poison for all _you_ know! Cap Pike says they are a lot of traitors, +and Cap is wise in lots of things. You telegraph, and you tell them +that if the sickness is proven to have started in Granados, that we +will pay for every dead horse, tell them we have no sick horses here, +and ask them to answer, _pronto!_" + +"That seems rather reckless, child, to pay for all----" + +"I _am_ reckless! I am crazy mad over those horses, and over Conrad, +and over Kit whom he tried to kill!" + +"Tut--tut! The language and behavior of Rhodes was too wicked for +anyone to believe him innocent. He was a beastly looking object, and I +still believe him entirely in the wrong. This loss of the horses is +deplorable, but you will find that no one at Granados is to blame." + +"Maybe so, but you just send that telegram and see what we see!" + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +A DEAD MAN UNDER THE COTTONWOODS + + +Billie was never out of hearing of the telephone all day, and at two +o'clock the reply came. + + PHILIP SINGLETON, Rancho Granados, Arizona. + + Kindly wire in detail the source of your information. No message + went to Granados from this office. No publicity has been given to + the dead horse situation. Your inquiry very important to the + Department of Justice. + + OGDEN, BURNS & CO. + +"Very strange, very!" murmured Singleton. "No matter how hard I think, +or from what angle, I can't account for it. Billie, this is too +intricate for me. The best thing I can do is to go over to Nogales and +talk to an attorney." + +"Go ahead and talk," agreed Billie, "but I'd answer that telegram +first. This is no township matter, Papa Phil, can't you see that?" + +"Certainly, certainly, but simply because of that fact I feel I should +have local advice. I have a legal friend in Nogales. If I could get +him on the wire----" + +An hour later when Billie returned from a ride, she realized Singleton +had gotten his friend on the wire, for she heard him talking. + +"Yes, this is Granados. Is that you, James? Yes, I asked them to have +you call me. I need to consult with you concerning a rather serious +matter. Yes, so serious I may say it is mysterious, and appalling. It +concerns a shipment of horses. Conrad is in Sonora, and this subject +can't wait--no, I can't get in touch with Conrad. He is out of +communication when over there--No, I can't wait his return. I've had a +wire from Ogden and Burns, New York--said Ogden and Burns--All right, +get a pencil; I'll hold the wire." + +There was a moment of silence, and if a telephonic camera had been +installed at Granados, Mr. Singleton might have caught a very +interesting picture at the other end of the wire. + +A middle-aged man in rusty black of semi-clerical cut held the +receiver, and the effect of the names as given over the wire was, to +put it mildly, electrical. His jaw dropped and he stared across the +table at a man who was seated there. At the repetition of the name, +the other arose, and with the stealthily secretive movement of a +coyote near its prey he circled the table, and drew a chair close to +the telephone. The pencil and paper was in his hand, not in that of +"James." That other was Conrad. + +Then the telephone conversation was resumed after Mr. Singleton had +been requested to speak a little louder--there seemed some flaw in the +connection. + +In the end Singleton appeared much comforted to get the subject off +his own shoulders by discussing it with another. But he had been +convinced that the right thing to do was to motor over to the Junction +and take the telegrams with him for consultation. He would start +about eight in the morning, and would reach the railroad by noon. Yes, +by taking the light car which he drove himself it would be an easy +matter. + +Billie heard part of this discourse in an absent-minded way, for she +was not at all interested as to what some strange lawyer in Nogales +might think of the curious telegrams. + +She would have dropped some of that indifference if she had been able +to hear the lurid language of Conrad after the receiver was hung up. +James listened to him in silence for a bit, and then said: + +"It's your move, brother! There are not supposed to be any mistakes in +the game, and you have permitted our people to wire you a victory when +you were not there to get the wire, and that was a mistake." + +"But Brehman always----" + +"You sent Brehman East and for once forgot what might happen with your +office empty. No,--it is not Singleton's fault; he did the natural +thing. It is not the operator's fault; why should he not give a +message concerning horses to the proprietor of the horse ranch?" + +"But Singleton never before made a move in anything of management, +letters never opened, telegrams filed but never answers sent until I +am there! And this time! It is that most cursed Rhodes, I know it is +that one! They told me he was high in fever and growing worse, and +luck with me! So you yourself know the necessity that I go over for +the Sonora conference--there was no other way. It is that Rhodes! Yes, +I know it, and they told me he was as good as dead--God! if again I +get him in these hands!" + +He paced the floor nervously, and flung out his clenched hands in +fury, and the quiet man watched him. + +"That is personal, and is for the future," he said, "but Singleton is +not a personal matter. If he lives he will be influenced to +investigation, and that must not be. It would remove you from +Granados, and you are too valuable at that place. You must hold that +point as you would hold a fort against the enemy. When Mexico joins +with Germany against the damned English and French, this fool mushroom +republic will protest, and that is the time our friends will sweep +over from Mexico and gather in all these border states--which were +once hers--and will again be hers through the strong mailed hand of +Germany! This is written and will be! When that day comes, we need +such points of vantage as Granados and La Partida; we must have them! +You have endangered that position, and the mistake won't be wiped out. +The next move is yours, Conrad." + +The quiet man in the habiliments of shabby gentility in that bare +little room with the American flag over the door and portraits of two +or three notable advocates of World Peace and the American League of +Neutrality on the wall, had all the outward suggestion of the small +town disciple of Socialism from the orthodox viewpoint. His manner was +carefully restrained, and his low voice was very even, but at his last +words Conrad who had dropped into a seat, his head in his hands, +suddenly looked up, questioning. + +"Singleton can probably do no more harm today," went on the quiet +voice. "I warned him it would be a mistake to discuss it until after +he had seen me. He starts at eight in the morning, alone, for the +railroad but probably will not reach there." He looked at his watch +thoughtfully. "The Tucson train leaves in fifty minutes. You can get +that. Stop off at the station where Brehman's sister is waitress. She +will have his car ready, that will avoid the Junction. It will be +rough work, Conrad, but it is your move. It is an order." + +And then before that carefully quiet man who had the appearance of a +modest country person, Adolf Conrad suddenly came to his feet in +military salute. + +"Come, we will talk it over," suggested his superior. "It will be +rough, yet necessary, and if it could appear suicide, eh? Well, we +will see. We--will--see!" + + * * * * * + +At seven in the morning the Granados telephone bell brought Singleton +into the patio in his dressing gown and slippers. And Doña Luz who was +seeing that his breakfast was served, heard him express surprise and +then say: + +"Why, certainly. If you are coming this way as far on the road as the +Jefferson ranch of course we can meet there, and I only need to go +half way. That will be excellent. Yes, and if Judge Jefferson is at +home he may be able to help with his advice. Fine! Good-bye." + +When Doña Luz was questioned about it later she was quite sure Mr. +Singleton mentioned no name, his words were as words to a friend. + +But all that day the telephone was out of order on the Granados line, +and Singleton did not return that night. There was nothing to cause +question in that, as he had probably gone on to Nogales, but when the +second day came and the telephone not working, Billie started Pedro +Vijil to ride the line to Granados Junction, get the mail, and have a +line man sent out for repairs wherever they were needed. + +It was puzzling because there had been no storm, nothing of which they +knew to account for the silent wire. The line was an independent one +from the Junction, and there were only two stations on it, the +Jefferson ranch and Granados. + +But Vijil forgot about the wire, for he met some sheep men from the +hills carrying the body of Singleton. They had found him in the +cottonwoods below the road not five miles from the hacienda. His car +he had driven off the road back of a clump of thick mesquite. The +revolver was still in his hand, and the right temple covered with +black blood and flies. + +There was nothing better to do than what the herders were doing. The +man had been dead a day and must be buried, also it was necessary to +send a man to Jefferson's, where there was a telephone, to get in +touch with someone in authority and arrange for the funeral. + +So the herders walked along with their burden carried in a _serape_, +and covered by the carriage robe. Pedro had warned them to halt at his +own house, for telephone calls would certainly gather men, who would +help to arrange all decently before the body was taken into the _sala_ +of Granados. + +There is not much room for conjecture as to the means of a man's +taking off when he is found with a bullet in his right temple, a +revolver in his right hand, and only one empty cartridge shell in the +revolver. There seemed no mystery about the death, except the cause of +suicide. + +It was the same evening that Conrad riding in from the south, +attempted to speak over the wire with Granados and got from Central +information that the Granados wire was broken, and Singleton, the +proprietor, a suicide. + +The coroner's inquest so pronounced it, after careful investigation of +the few visible facts. Conrad was of no value as a witness because he +had been absent in Magdalena. He could surmise no reason for such an +act, but confessed he knew practically nothing of Singleton's personal +affairs. He was guardian of his stepdaughter and her estate, and so +far as Conrad knew all his relations with the personnel of the estate +were most amicable. Conrad acknowledged when questioned that Singleton +did usually carry a revolver when out in the car, he had a horror of +snakes, and he had never known him to use a gun for anything else. + +Doña Luz Moreno confused matters considerably by her statement that +Mr. Singleton was going to meet some man at the Jefferson ranch +because the man had called him up before breakfast to arrange it. +Later it was learned that no call was made from any station over the +wire that morning to Granados. There was in fact several records of +failure to get Granados. No one but Doña Luz had heard the call and +heard Singleton reply, yet it was not possible that this communication +could be a fact over a broken wire, and the wire was found broken +between the Jefferson ranch and Granados. + +Whereupon word promptly went abroad among the Mexicans that Señor +Singleton had been lured to his death by a spirit voice calling over a +broken wire as a friend to a friend. For the rest of her life Doña +Luz will have that tale to tell as the evidence of her own ears that +warnings of death do come from the fearsome spirits of the shadowed +unknown land,--and this in denial of all the padres' godly discourse +to the contrary! + +A Mr. Frederick James of Nogales, connected with a group of charitable +gentlemen working for the alleviating of distress among the many +border exiles from Mexico, was the only person who came forward +voluntarily to offer help to the coroner regarding the object of the +dead man's journey to Nogales. Mr. James had been called on the +telephone by Mr. Singleton, who was apparently in great distress of +mind concerning mysterious illness and deaths of horses shipped from +Granados to France. A telegram had come from New York warning him that +the Department of Justice was investigating the matter, and the +excitement and nervousness of Mr. Singleton was such that Mr. James +readily consented to a meeting in Nogales, with the hope that he might +be of service in any investigation they would decide upon after +consultation. When Mr. Singleton did not keep the engagement, Mr. +James attempted to make inquiries by telephone. He tried again the +following morning, but it was only after hearing of the suicide--he +begged pardon--the death of Mr. Singleton, that he recalled the fact +that all of Singleton's discourse over the telephone had been unusual, +excitable to a degree, while all acquaintances of the dead man knew +him as a quiet, reserved man, really unusually reserved, almost to the +point of the secretive. Mr. James was struck by the unusual note of +panic in his tones, but as a carload of horses was of considerable +financial value, he ascribed the excitement in part to that, feeling +confident of course that Mr. Singleton was in no ways accountable for +the loss, but---- + +Mr. James was asked if the nervousness indicated by Mr. Singleton was +a fear of personal consequences following the telegram, but Mr. James +preferred not to say. He had regarded Mr. Singleton as a model of most +of the virtues, and while Singleton's voice and manner had certainly +been unusual, he could not presume to suspect the inner meaning of +it. + +The telegraph and telephone records bore out the testimony of Mr. +James. + +The fact that the first telegram was addressed to the manager, Mr. +Conrad, had apparently nothing to do with the case, since the +telegraph files showed that messages were about evenly divided in the +matter of address concerning ranch matters. They were often addressed +simply to "Granados Rancho" or "Manager Granados Ranch." This one +simply happened to be addressed to the name of the manager. + +The coroner decided that the mode of address had no direct bearing on +the fact that the man was found dead under the cottonwoods with copies +of both telegrams in his pocket, both written in a different hand from +his carefully clear script as shown in his address book. Safe in his +pocket also was money, a gold watch with a small gold compass, and a +handsome seal ring. Nothing was missing, which of course precluded the +thought of murder for robbery, and Philip Singleton was too mildly +negative to make personal enemies, a constitutional neutral. + +Billie, looking very small and very quiet, was brought in by Doña Luz +and Mr. Jefferson of the neighboring ranch, fifty miles to the east. +She had not been weeping. She was too stunned for tears, and there was +a strangely ungirlish tension about her, an alert questioning in her +eyes as she looked from face to face, and then returned to the face of +the one man who was a stranger, the kindly sympathetic face of Mr. +Frederick James. + +She told of the telegrams she had copied, and of the distress of +Singleton, but that his distress was no more than her own, that she +had been crying about the horses, and he had tried to comfort her. She +did not believe he had a trouble in the world of his own, and he had +never killed himself--never! + +When asked if she had any reason to suspect a murderer, she said if +they ever found who killed the horses they would find who killed her +Papa Phil, but this opinion was evidently not shared by any of the +others. The report of horses dead on a transport in the Atlantic +ocean, and a man dead under the cottonwoods in Arizona, did not appear +to have any definite physical relation to each other, unless of course +the loss of the horses had proven too much of a shock to Mr. Singleton +and upset his nerves to the extent that moody depression had developed +into temporary dementia. His own gun had been the evident agent of +death. + +One of the Mexicans recalled that Singleton had discharged an American +foreman in anger, and that the man had been in a rage about it, and +assaulted Mr. Conrad, whereupon Conrad was recalled, and acknowledged +the assault with evident intent to kill. Yes, he heard the man Rhodes +had threatened Singleton with a nastier accident than his attempt on +Conrad. No, he had not heard it personally, as he was unconscious +when the threat was made. + +"It wasn't a threat!" interrupted Billie, "it was something different, +a warning." + +"A warning of what?" + +Billie was about to quote Kit's opinion concerning Singleton's ranch +force, when she was halted by a strange thing--for Billie; it was +merely the mild steady gaze of the quiet gentleman of the peaceful +league of the neutrals. There was a slight lifting of his brows as she +spoke of a warning; and then a slight suggestion of a smile--it might +have been a perfectly natural incredulous smile, but Billie felt that +it was not. The yellowish brown eyes narrowed until only the pupils +were visible, and warm though the day was, Billie felt a swift chill +over her, and her words were cautious. + +"I can't say, I don't know, but Kit Rhodes had no grudge against Papa +Phil. He seemed in some way to be sorry for him." + +She noted that Conrad's gaze was on the face of Mr. James instead of +on her. + +"Sorry for him?" + +"Y-yes, sort of. He tried to explain why, but Papa would not listen, +and would not make any engagement with him. Sent his money by Captain +Pike and wouldn't see him. But Kit Rhodes did not make a threat, he +did not!" + +Her last denial was directly at Conrad, who merely shrugged his +shoulders as if to dispose of that awkward phase of the matter. + +"It was told me so, but the Mexican men might not have understood the +words of Rhodes--he was in a rage--and it may be he did not mean so +much as he said." + +"But he didn't say it!" insisted Billie. + +"Very good, he did not, and it is a mistake of mine," agreed Conrad +politely. "For quite awhile I was unconscious after his assault, +naturally I know nothing of what was said." + +"And where is this man Rhodes to be found?" asked the coroner, and +Conrad smiled meaningly. + +"Nowhere,--or so I am told! He and a companion are said to have +crossed the line into Sonora twenty-four hours before the death of Mr. +Singleton." + +"Well, unless there is some evidence that he was seen later on this +side, any threat he might or might not have made, has no relation +whatever to this case. Is there any evidence that he was seen at, or +near, Granados after starting for Sonora?" + +No evidence was forthcoming, and the coroner, in summoning up, +confessed he was not satisfied to leave certain details of the case a +mystery. + +That Singleton had discharged Rhodes in anger, and Rhodes had, even by +intimation, voiced a threat against Singleton could not be considered +as having any bearing on the death of the latter; while the voice of +the unknown calling him to a meeting at Jefferson's ranch was equally +a matter of mystery, since no one at Jefferson's knew anything of the +message, or the speaker, and investigation developed the fact that the +telephone wire was broken between the two ranches, and there was no +word at Granados Junction Central of any message to Granados after +five o'clock the afternoon of the previous day. + +And, since Philip Singleton never reached the Jefferson ranch, but +turned his car off the road at the cottonwood cañon, and was found +with one bullet in his head, and the gun in his own hand, it was not +for a coroner's jury to conjecture the impulse leading up to the act, +or the business complications by which the act might, or might not, +have been hastened. But incomprehensible though it might seem to all +concerned there was only one finding on the evidence submitted, and +that was suicide. + +"Papa Phil never killed himself, never!" declared Billie. "That would +be two suicides in a month for Granados, and two is one too many. We +never had suicides here before." + +"Who was the other?" + +"Why, Miguel Herrara who had been arrested for smuggling, was searched +and his gun taken, and yet that night found a gun to kill himself with +in the adobe where he was locked up! Miguel would not have cared for a +year or two in jail; he had lived there before, and hadn't tried any +killing. I tell you Granados is getting more than its share." + +"It sure looks like it, little lady," agreed the coroner, "but +Herrara's death gives us no light or evidence on Singleton's death, +and our jurisdiction is limited strictly to the hand that held the +gun. The evidence shows it was in the hand of Mr. Singleton when +found." + +The Jeffersons insisted that Billie go home with them, as the girl +appeared absolutely and pathetically alone in the world. She knew of +no relatives, and Tia Luz and Captain Pike were the only two whom she +had known from babyhood as friends of her father's. + +The grandmother of Billie Bernard had been the daughter of a Spanish +_haciendado_ who was also an officer in the army of Mexico. He met +death in battle before he ever learned that his daughter, in the pious +work of nursing friend and enemy alike, had nursed one enemy of the +hated North until each was captive to the other, and she rode beside +him to her father's farthest northern rancho beyond the Mexican +deserts, and never went again to the gay circles of Mexico's capital. +Late in her life one daughter, Dorotea was born, and when Alfred +Bernard came out of the East and looked on her, a blonde Spanish girl +as her ancestresses of Valencia had been, the game of love was played +again in the old border rancho which was world enough for the lovers. +There had been one eastern summer for them the first year of their +marriage, and Philip Singleton had seen her there, and never forgot +her. After her widowhood he crossed the continent to be near her, and +after awhile his devotion, and her need of help in many ways, won the +place he coveted, and life at Granados went on serenely until her +death. Though he had at times been bored a bit by the changelessness +of ranch life, yet he had given his word to guard the child's +inheritance until she came of age, and had kept it loyally as he knew +how until death met him in the cañon of the cottonwoods. + +But the contented isolation of her immediate family left Billie only +such guardian as the court might appoint for her property and person, +and Andrew Jefferson, Judge Jefferson by courtesy, in the county, +would no doubt be choice of the court as well as the girl. Beyond that +she could only think of Pike, and--well Pike was out of reach on some +enchanted gold trail of which she must not speak, and she supposed she +would have to go to school instead of going in search of him! + +Conrad spoke to her kindly as she was led to the Jefferson car, and +there was a subtle deference in his manner, indicating his realization +that he was speaking--not to the wilful little maid who could be +annoying--but to the owner of Granados and, despite his five year +contract as manager, an owner who could change entirely the activities +of the two ranches in another year--and it was an important year. + +He also spoke briefly to Mr. James offering him the hospitality of the +ranch for a day of rest before returning to Nogales, but the offer was +politely declined. Mr. James intimated that he was at Conrad's service +if he could be of any practical use in the mysterious situation. He +carefully gave his address and telephone number, and bade the others +good day. But as he was entering his little roadster he spoke again to +Conrad. + +"By the way, it was a mistake to let that man Rhodes get over into +Sonora. It should be the task of someone to see that he does not come +back. He seems a very dangerous man. See to it!" + +The words were those of a kindly person interested in the welfare of +the community, and evidently impressed by the evidence referring to +the discharged range boss. Two of the men hearing him exchanged +glances, for they also thought that rumor of the threats should have +been looked into. But the last three words were spoken too softly for +any but Conrad to hear. + +The following week Billie went to Tucson with the Jeffersons and at +her request Judge Jefferson was appointed guardian of her person and +estate, after which she and the judge went into a confidential session +concerning that broken wire on the Granados line. + +"I'm not loco, Judge," she insisted, "but I want you to learn whether +that wire was cut on purpose, or just broke itself. Also I want you to +take up that horse affair with the secret service people. I don't want +Conrad to be sent away--yet. I'd rather watch him on Granados. I won't +go away to school; I'd rather have a teacher at home. We can find +one." + +"But, do you realize that with two mysterious deaths on Granados +lately, you might run some personal risk of living there with only +yourself and two women in the house? I'm not sure we can sanction +that, my child." + +Billie smiled at him a bit wanly, but decided. + +"Now Judge, you know I picked you because you would let me do whatever +I pleased, and I don't mean to be disappointed with you. Half the men +at the inquest think that Kit Rhodes did come back to do that +shooting, and you know Conrad and the very smooth rat of the Charities +Society are accountable for that opinion. The Mexican who dragged in +Kit's name is one of Conrad's men; it all means something! It's a bad +muddle, but Kit Rhodes and Cap Pike will wander back here some of +these days, and I mean to have every bit of evidence for Kit to start +in with. He suspected a lot, and all Granados combined to silence +him--fool Granados!" + +"But, just between ourselves, child, are you convinced Rhodes did not +make the statement liable to be construed into a threat against Mr. +Singleton?" + +"Convinced nothing," was the inelegant reply of his new ward. "I heard +him say enough to hang him if evidence could be found that he was +north of the line that morning, and that's why it's my job to take +note of all the evidence on the other side. The horses did not kill +themselves. That telegram concerning it did not send itself. Papa Phil +did not shoot himself, and that telephone wire did not cut itself! My +hunch is that those four things go together, and that's a combination +they can't clear up by dragging in the name of a man who never saw the +horses, and who was miles south in Sonora with Cap Pike when the other +three things happened. Now can they?" + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +IN THE PROVINCE OF ALTAR + + + _There was a frog who lived in the spring: + Sing-song Kitty, can't yo' carry me, oh? + And it was so cold that he could not sing, + Sing-song Kitty, can't yo' carry me, oh? + Ke-mo! Ki-mo! Dear--oh my! + To my hi'--to my ho--to my----_ + +"Oh! For the love of Mike! Bub, can't you give a man a rest instead of +piling up the agony? These old joints of mine are creakin' with every +move from desert rust and dry camps, and you with no more heart in you +than to sing of springs,--cold springs!" + +"They do exist, Cap." + +"Uh--huh, they are as real to us this minute as the red gold that +we've trailed until we're at the tag end of our grub stake. I tell +you, Bub, they stacked the cards on us with that door of the old +Soledad Mission, and the view of the gold cañon from there! Why, +Whitely showed us that the mission door never did face the hills, but +looked right down the valley towards the Rio del Altar just as the +Soledad plaza does today; all the old Mexicans and Indians tell us +that." + +"Well, we've combed over most of the arroyas leading into the Altar +from Rancho Soledad, and all we've found is placer gravel; yet the +placers are facts, and the mother lode is somewhere, Cap." + +"Worn down to pan dirt, that's what!" grunted Pike. "I tell you these +heathen sit around and dream lost mission tales and lost mine lies; +dream them by the dozen to delude just such innocent yaps as you and +me. They've nothing else to do between crops. We should have stuck to +a white man's land, north into Arizona where the Three Hills of Gold +are waiting, to say nothing of the Lost Stone Cabin mine, lost not +twenty miles from Quartzite, and in plain sight of Castle Dome. Now +there is nothing visionary about _that_, Kit! Why, I knew an old-timer +who freighted rich ore out of that mine thirty years ago, and even the +road to it has been lost for years! We know things once did exist up +in that country, Kit, and down here we are all tangled up with +Mexican-Indian stories of ghosts and enchantments, and such vagaries. +I'm fed up with them to the limit, for everyone of them we listen to +is different from the last. We'll head up into the Castle Dome country +next time, hear me?" + +"Sure, I hear," agreed Kit cheerfully. "Perhaps we do lose, but it's +not so bad. Since Whitely sent his family north, he has intimated that +Mesa Blanca is a single man's job, and I reckon I can have it when he +goes--as he will. Then in the month we have scouted free of Whitelys, +we have dry washed enough dust to put you on velvet till things come +our way. Say, what will you bet that a month of comfort around Nogales +won't make you hungry for the trail again?" + +"A gold trail?" queried the weary and dejected Pike. + +"Any old trail to any old place just so we keep ambling on. You can't +live contented under cover, and you know it." + +"Well," decided Pike after a rod or two of tramping along the shaly, +hot bed of a dry arroya. "I won't bet, for you may be among the +prophets. But while you are about it, I'd be thankful if you'd +prophesy me a wet trail next time instead of skimpy mud holes where +springs ought to be. I'm sick of dry camps, and so is Baby Buntin'." + +"_'Oh, there was a frog lived in the spring!'_" chanted Kit +derisively. "Cheer up, Cap, the worst is yet to come, for I've an idea +that the gang of Mexican vaqueros we glimpsed from the butte at noon +will just about muss up the water hole in Yaqui cañon until it will be +us for a sleep there before the fluid is fit for a water bottle. _'Oh, +there was a frog lived in the spring!'_ Buntin' Baby, we'll fish the +frog out, and let you wallow in it instead, you game little dusty rat! +Say, Pike, when we load up with grub again we'll keep further west to +the Cerrado Pintado. I'll follow a hunch of my own next trip." + +The older man grunted disdain for the hunches of Kit, even while his +eyes smiled response to the ever-living call of youth. To Rhodes there +was ever a "next time." He was young enough to deal in futures, and +had a way with him by which friends were to be found for even unstable +venturings with no backing more substantial than a "hunch." + +Not that Kit was gifted with any great degree of fatal beauty--men are +not often pretty on the trail, unwashed, unshaven, and unshorn--added +to which their equipment had reached the point where his most +pretentious garment was a square of an Indian _serape_ with a hole in +the middle worn as a poncho, and adopted to save his coat and other +shirt on the hard trail. + +Cap Pike growled that he looked like a Mexican peon in that raiment, +which troubled Kit not at all. He was red bronze from the desert days, +and his blue eyes, with the long black lashes of some Celtic ancestor, +looked out on the world with direct mild approval. They matched the +boyish voice much given to trolling old-time ditties and sentimental +foolishness. + +He led the dappled roan over the wild dry "wash" where the sand was +deep and slippery, and the white crust of alkali over all. Before him +swayed the pack mules, and back of him Captain Pike sagged on the +little gray burro, named in derision and affection, the Baby Bunting +of the outfit. + +The jauntiness was temporarily eliminated from the old prospector. Two +months of fruitless scratching gravel when he had expected to walk +without special delay to the great legendary deposit, had taken the +sparkle of hope from the blue eyes, and he glanced perfunctorily at +the walls of that which had once been a river bed. + +"What in time do you reckon became of all the water that used to fill +these dry gullies?" he asked querulously. "Why, it took a thousand +years of floods to wash these boulders round, and then leave them high +and dry when nicely polished. That's a waste in nature I can't figure +out, and this godforsaken territory is full of them." + +"Well, you grouch, if we didn't have this dry bed to skip along, we +would be bucking the greasewood and cactus on the mesa above. So we +get some favors coming our way." + +"Skip along,--me eye!" grunted Pike, as the burro toiled laboriously +through the sand, and Kit shifted and stumbled over treacherous, +half-buried boulders. "Say, Kit, don't you reckon it's time for Billie +to answer my letter? It's over eight weeks now, and mail ought to get +in once a month." + +Rhodes grunted something about "mail in normal times, but these times +were not normal," and did not seem much interested in word from +Granados. + +He had not the heart, or else had too much, to tell the old man that +the letter to Billie never reached her. When Whitely went north he put +it in his coat pocket, and then changed his coat! Kit found it a month +later and held it, waiting to find someone going out. He had not even +mentioned it to Whitely on his return, for Whitely was having his own +troubles, and could not spare a man for a four day trip to mail. + +Whitely's folks lived north of Naco, and he had gone there direct +and returned without touching at Nogales, or hearing of the tragedy +at Granados. The latest news of the Mexican revolutions, and the +all-absorbing question as to whether the United States would or +would not intervene, seemed all the news the worried Whitely had +brought back. Even the slaughter of a dozen nations of Europe had +no new features to a ranchman of Sonora,--it remained just slaughter. +And one did not need to cross boundaries to learn of killings, for +all the world seemed aflame, and every state in Mexico had its own +wars,--little or big. + +Then, in the records of the tumultuous days, there was scarce space +for the press or people to give thought after the first day or two, to +the colorless life going out in mystery under the cottonwoods of +Granados, and no word came to tell Rhodes of the suspicion, only half +veiled, against himself. + +The ranch house of Mesa Blanca was twenty miles from the hacienda of +Soledad, and a sharp spur of the Carrizal range divided their grazing +lands. Soledad reached a hundred miles south and Mesa Blanca claimed +fifty miles to the west, so that the herds seldom mingled, but word +filtered to and from between the vaqueros, and Rhodes heard that Perez +had come north from Hermosillo and that El Aleman, (the German) had +made the two day trip in from the railroad, and had gone on a little +_pasear_ to the small rancherias with Juan Gonsalvo, the half-breed +overseer. The vaqueros talked with each other about that, for there +were no more young men among them for soldiers, only boys and old men +to tend the cattle, and what did it mean? + +The name of Rhodes was not easy for the Mexican tongue, and at Mesa +Blanca his identity was promptly lost in the gift of a name with a +meaning to them, El Pajarito, (the singer). Capitan Viajo, (the old +captain), was accepted by Pike with equal serenity, as both men were +only too well pleased to humor the Indian ranch people in any friendly +concessions, for back of some of those alert black eyes there were +surely inherited records of old pagan days, and old legends of golden +veins in the hills. + +The fact that they were left practically nameless in a strange +territory did not occur to either of them, and would not have +disturbed them if it had. They had met no American but Whitely since +they first struck Mesa Blanca. One month Kit had conscientiously stuck +to the ranch cares while Whitely took his family out, and Pike had +made little sallies into the hills alone. + +On Whitely's return he had made an errand to Soledad and taken Rhodes +and Pike along that they might view the crumbled walls of old Soledad +Mission, back of the ranch house. The ancient rooms of the mission +padres were now used principally as corrals, harness shop, and storage +rooms. + +The situation in itself was one of rare beauty;--those old padres +knew! + +It was set on a high plain or mesa, facing a wide valley spreading +miles away to the south where mother-of-pearl mountains were ranged +like strung jewels far against the Mexican sky. At the north, +slate-blue foothills lifted their sharp-edged shoulders three miles +away, but only blank walls of Soledad faced the hills, all portals of +the old mission appeared to have faced south, as did Soledad. The door +facing the hills was a myth. And as Rhodes stood north of the old +wall, and searched its thirty-mile circle, he could understand how +four generations of gold seekers had failed to find even a clue to the +wealth those unknown padres had looked on, and sent joyous evidence of +to the viceroy of the south. It would take years of systematic search +to cover even half the visible range. A man could devote a long +lifetime to a fruitless search there, and then some straying burro +might uncover it for an Indian herder who would fill his poncho, and +make a sensation for a week or two, and never find the trail again! + +"It's just luck!" said Kit thinking it all over as he tramped along +the arroya bed, "it either belongs to you, or it doesn't. No man on +earth can buy it and make it stay, but if it is yours, no man can keep +you from it entirely." + +"What the devil are you yammering about?" asked Pike grumpily. + +"Oh, I was just thinking of how Whitely exploded our little balloon of +hopes when he took us over to size up the prospects at Soledad. I +wonder if Perez has no white help at all around that place. We did not +even see the foreman." + +"He's a half-breed, that Juan Gonsalvo. The Indians don't like him. +He's from down Hermosillo way, and not like these Piman children of +nature. He and Conrad are up to some devilment, but Whitely thinks +Juan took the job, deluded as we are, with the notion that a gold mine +was sticking up out of the ground at the Soledad corrals, and it was +to be his find. You see, Bub, that story has gone the length of +Mexico, and even over to Spain. Oh, we are not the only trailers of +ghost gold; there are others!" + +The slanting sun was sending shadows long on the levels, and the hills +were looming to the east in softest tones of gray and amethyst; the +whitish green of desert growths lay between, and much of brown desert +yet to cross. + +"We can't make the foothills tonight even though there is an early +moon," decided Kit. "But we can break camp at dawn and make it before +the sun is high, and the water will hold out that long." + +"It will hold for Buntin' and the mules, but what of Pardner?" asked +the older man. "He's not used to this hard pan gravel scratching." + +"But he's thoroughbred, and he can stand it twelve hours more if I +can, can't you, old pal?" The tall roan with the dot of black between +the eyes returned his owner's caress by nosing his bare neck, and the +hand held up to smooth the black mane. + +"I'll be glad enough to see him safe across the border in old +Arizona," observed Pike. "I can't see how the herders saved him for +you at Mesa Blanca when their own stock was picked of its best for the +various patriots charging through the settlements." + +"Some way, Miguel, the Indian vaquero, managed it, or got his girl to +hide it out. Whitely confessed that his Indian cattlemen are the most +loyal he can find down here." + +"But it's not a white man's land--yet, and I'm downright glad he's +shipped his family north. There's always hell enough in Sonora, but +it's a dovecote to what it's bound to be before the end comes, and so, +it's no place for white men's wives." + +"Right you are! Say, what was it Whitely heard down in Sinaloa +concerning the Enchanted Cañon mine?" + +"Oh, some old priest's tale--the same dope we got with a different +slant to it. The gold nuggets from some shrine place where the water +gushed _muy fuerte_, by a sycamore tree. Same old nuggets sent out +with the message, and after that the insurrection of the Indians, and +the priests who found it never lived to get out. Why, Bub, that is +nearly two hundred years ago! Stop and think of the noble Castilians +going over Sonora with a fine tooth comb for that trail ever since and +then think of the nerve of us!" + +"Well, I'm nearer to it anyway than the Dutchman who trekked in from +the south last year with copies of the old mission reports as guide, +for the Yaquis killed him, and took his records, while they hide my +horse for me." + +"Huh! yes, and warn you to ride him north!" + +"Correct;--but Pike, it was a warning, not a threat! Oh, I'm coming +back all right, all right! That gold by the hidden stream sure has got +me roped and hog tied for keeps." + +Pike growled good-natured disdain of his confidence, and suggested +that the stream, which was probably only a measly mud hole, could have +dropped to purgatory in an earthquake tremor since those first old +mission days, or filled up with quicksand. + +"Right you are, Cap. That's a first-rate idea," agreed Kit the +irrepressible. "Next trip we'll start looking for streams that were +and are not; we're in the bed of one now for that matter!" + +"Somewhere ahead we should come into the trail south from Carracita," +observed Pike, "but I reckon you'd just as soon camp with Pard out of +sight of the trail." + +There was silence for a bit as they plodded on up the wide dry bed of +the river, and then Kit turned, glancing at the old man keenly. + +"I didn't fool you much when I called that gang 'vaqueros,' did I?" +he observed. "Well, they didn't look good to me, and I decided I'd +have to fight for my horse if we crossed trails, and--it wastes a lot +of time, fighting does." + +"No, you didn't fool me. You'd be seven kinds of an idiot to walk in +this gully of purgatory when you could ride safely on the mesa above, +so I guessed you had a hunch it was the friendly and acquisitive +patriots." + +"Pike, they were between us and the Palomitas rancherias of Mesa +Blanca or I'd have made a try to get through and warn the Indians +there. Those men had no camp women with them, so they were not a +detachment of the irregular cavalry,--that's what puzzles me. And +their horses were fresh. It's some new devilment." + +"There's nothing new in Sonora, son. Things happen over and over the +same." + +The shadows lengthened, and the blue range to the east had sharp, +black edges against the saffron sky, and the men plodding along over +sand and between boulders, fell silent after the little exchange of +confidence as to choice of trail. Once Kit left the gully and climbed +the steep grade to the mesa alone to view the landscape over, but slid +and scrambled down,--hot, dusty, and vituperative. + +"Not a sign of life but some carrion crows moving around in the blue +without flop of a wing," he grumbled. "Who started the dope that +mankind is the chosen of the Lord? Huh! we have to scratch gravel for +all we rake in but the birds of the air have us beat for desert travel +all right, all right!" + +"Well, Bub, if you saw no one's dust it must be that gang were not +headed for Palomitas or Whitely's." + +"They could strike Palomitas, and circle over to the east road without +striking Whitely's home corrals," said Kit thoughtfully. + +"Sure they could, but what's the object? If it's cattle or horses +they're after the bigger ranch is the bigger haul?" + +"Yes,--if it's stock they're after," agreed Kit somberly. + +"Why, lad, what--what's got you now?" + +"I reckon it's the damned buzzards," acknowledged the younger man. "I +don't know what struck me as I sat up there watching them. Maybe it's +their blackness, maybe it's their provender, maybe it was just the +loco of their endless drifting shadows, but for a minute up there I +had an infernal sick feeling. It's a new one on me, and there was +nothing I could blame it on but disgust of the buzzards." + +"You're goin' too shy on the water, and never knew before that you had +nerves," stated Pike sagely. "I've been there; fought with a pardner +once,--Jimmy Dean, till he had to rope me. You take a pull at the +water bottle, and take it now." + +Kit did so, but shook his head. + +"It touches the right spot, but it was not a thirst fancy. It was +another thought and--O Bells of Pluto! Pike, let's talk of something +else! What was that you said about the Sinaloa priest story of the red +gold? You said something about a new slant on the old dope." + +"Uh-huh!" grunted Pike. "At least it was a new slant to me. I've heard +over and over about uprising of Indians, and death of the two priests +who found their mine, but this Sinaloa legend has it that the Indians +did not kill the priests, but that their gods did!" + +"Their gods?" + +"Yeh, the special gods of that region rose up and smote them. That's +why the Indians barred out other mission priests for so long a spell +that no white man remembered just where the lost shrine of the red +gold was. Of course it's all punk, Bub, just some story of the heathen +sheep to hide the barbecuing of their shepherds." + +"Maybe so, but I've as much curiosity as a pet coon. What special +process did their gods use to put the friars out of commission?" + +"Oh, lightning. The original priests' report had it that the red gold +was at some holy place of the tribes, a shrine of some sort. Well, you +know the usual mission rule--if they can't wean the Indian from his +shrine, they promptly dig foundations and build a church there under +heavenly instructions. That's the story of this shrine of El Alisal +where the priests started to build a little branch chapel or _visita_, +for pious political reasons--and built it at the gold shrine. It went +down in the priests' letter or record as gold of rose, a deep red +gold. Well, under protest, the Indians helped build a shack for a +church altar under a great aliso tree there, but when lightning struck +the priests, killed both and burned the shack, you can see what that +manifestation would do to the Indian mind." + +Kit halted, panting from the heart-wearying trail, and looked Pike +over disgustedly. + +"Holy mackerel! Pike, haven't you _any_ imagination? You've had this +new side to the story for over a month and never even cheeped about +it! I heard you and Whitely talking out on the porch, but I didn't +hear this!" + +"Why, Bub, it's just the same old story, everyone of them have half a +dozen different sides to it." + +"But this one explains things, this one has logic, this one blazes a +trail!" declared the enthusiast. "This one explains good and plenty +why no Indian has ever cheeped about it, no money could bribe him to +it. Can't you see? Of course that lightning was sent by their wrathy +gods, of course it was! But do you note that place of the gold, and +place of the shrine where the water rises, is also some point where +there is a dyke of iron ore near, a magnet for the lightning? And that +is not here in those sandy mesas and rocky barrancas--it's to the west +in the hills, Pike. Can't you see that?" + +"Too far from the old north and south trail, Bub. There was nothing to +take padres so far west to the hills. The Indians didn't even live +there; only strayed up for nuts and hunting in the season." + +"Save your breath!" jeered Kit. "It's me to hike back to Mesa Blanca +and offer service at fifty dollars per, and live like a miser until we +can hit the trail again. I may find a tenderfoot to buy that valley +tract of mine up in Yuma, and get cash out of that. Oh, we will get +the finances somehow! I'll write a lawyer soon as we get back to +Whitely's--God! what's that?" + +They halted, holding breath to listen. + +"A coyote," said Pike. + +"No, only one animal screams like that--a wildcat in the timber. But +it's no wildcat." + +Again the sound came. It was either from a distance or else muffled +by the barrier of the hill, a blood-curdling scream of sickening +terror. + +A cold chill struck the men as they looked at each other. + +"The carrion crows knew!" said Kit. "You hold the stock, Pike." + +He quickly slipped his rifle from its case, and started up the knoll. + +"The stock will stand," said Pike. "I'm with you." + +As the two men ran upward to the summit and away from the crunching of +their own little outfit in the bed of the dry river, they were struck +by the sound of clatter of hoofs and voices. + +"Bub, do you know where we are?" asked Pike--"this draw slants south +and has brought us fair into the Palomitas trail where it comes into +the old Yaqui trail, and on south to hell." + +"To hell it is, if it's the slavers again after women," said Kit. +"Come quiet." + +They reached the summit where cacti and greasewood served as shield, +and slightly below them they saw, against the low purple hills, clouds +of dust making the picture like a vision and not a real thing, a line +of armed horsemen as outpost guards, and men with roped arms stumbling +along on foot slashed at occasionally with a _reata_ to hasten their +pace. Women and girls were there, cowed and drooping, with torn +garments and bare feet. Forty prisoners in all Kit counted of those +within range, ere the trail curved around the bend of a hill. + +"But that scream?" muttered Kit. "All those women are silent as death, +but that scream?" Then he saw. + +One girl was in the rear, apart from the rest of the group. A +blond-bearded man spurred his horse against her, and a guard lashed at +her to keep her behind. Her scream of terror was lest she be separated +from that most woeful group of miserables. The horse was across the +road, blocking it, as the man with the light beard slid from the +saddle and caught her. + +Kit's gun was thrown into position as Pike caught his hand. + +"_No!_" he said. "Look at her!" + +For the Indian girl was quicker far. From the belt of her assailant +she grasped a knife and lunged at his face as he held her. His one +hand went to his cheek where the blood streamed, and his other to his +revolver. + +But even there she was before him, for she held the knife in both +hands against her breast, and threw herself forward in the haze of +dust. + +The other guard dismounted and stared at the still figure on the +trail, then kicked her over until he could see her face. One look was +enough. He jerked the knife from the dead body, wiped it on her +_manta_, and turned to tie a handkerchief over the cheek of the +wounded horseman. + +Kit muttered an oath of horror, and hastily drew the field glass from +its case to stare at the man whose beard, a false one, had been torn +off in the struggle. It was not easy to re-adjust it so that it would +not interfere with the bandage, and thus he had a very fair view of +the man's features, and his thoughts were of Billie's words to Conrad +concerning slave raids in Sonora. Had Billie really suspected, or had +she merely connected his Mexican friends with reports of raids for +girls in the little Indian pueblos? + +Pike reached for the glass, but by the time he could focus it to fit +his eyes, the man had re-mounted, riding south, and there was only the +dead girl left there where she fell, an Indian girl they both knew, +Anita, daughter of Miguel, the major-domo of Mesa Blanca, whose own +little rancheria was with the Pimans at Palomitas. + +"Look above, Cap," said Kit. + +Above two pair of black wings swept in graceful curves against the +saffron sky--waiting! + +Rhodes went back to the outfit for pick and shovel, and when twilight +fell they made a grave there in the dusky cañon of the desert. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE SLAVE TRAIL + + +They camped that night in the barranca, and next morning a thin blue +smoke a mile away drew Kit out on the roan even in the face of the +heat to be, and the water yet to find. He hoped to discover someone +who had been more fortunate in escape. + +He found instead an Indian he knew, one whose gray hair was matted +with blood and who stood as if dazed by terror at sound of hoofs. It +was Miguel, the Pima head man of Mesa Blanca. + +"Why, Miguel, don't you know me?" asked Kit. + +The eyes of the man had a strange look, and he did not answer. But he +did move hesitatingly to the horse and stroked it. + +"_Caballo_," he said. "_Muy bueno, caballo._" + +"Yes," agreed Pardner's rider, "very good always." + +"_Si_ señor, always." + +Kit swung from the saddle, and patted the old man's shoulder. He was +plainly dazed from either a hurt, or shock, and would without doubt +die if left alone. + +"Come, you ride, and we'll go to camp, then find water," suggested +Kit. "Camp here no good. Come help me find water." + +That appeal penetrated the man's mind more clearly. Miguel had been +the well-trusted one of the Indian vaqueros, used to a certain +dependence put upon him, and he straightened his shoulders for a +task. + +"_Si_ señor, a good padrone are you, and water it will be found for +you." He was about to mount when he halted, bewildered, and looked +about him as if in search. + +"All--my people--" he said brokenly. "My children of me--my child!" + +Kit knew that his most winning child lay newly covered under the sand +and stones he had gathered by moonlight to protect the grave from +coyotes. + +But there was a rustle back of him and a black-eyed elf, little more +than a child, was standing close, shaking the sand from her hair. + +"I am hearing you speak. I know it is you, and I come," she said. + +It was Tula, the younger daughter of Miguel,--one who had carried them +water from the well on her steady head, and played with the babies on +the earthen floors at the pueblo of Palomitas. + +But the childish humors were gone, and her face wore the Indian mask +of any age. + +"Tell me," said Kit. + +"It is at Palomitas. I was in the willows by the well when they came, +Juan Gonsalvo and El Aleman, and strange soldiers. All the women +scream and make battle, also the men, and that is when my father is +hurt in the head, that is when they are taking my mother, and Anita, +my sister. Some are hiding. And El Aleman and Juan Gonsalvo make the +count, and sent the men for search. That is how it was." + +"Why do you say El Aleman?" asked Rhodes. + +"I seeing him other time with Don José, and hearing how he talk. Also +Anita knowing him, and scream his name--'Don Adolf!'--when he catch +her. Juan Gonsalvo has a scarf tied over the face--all but the eyes, +but the Don Adolf has the face now covered with hairs and I seeing +him. They take all the people. My father is hurt, but lives. He tries +to follow and is much sick. My mother is there, and Anita, my sister, +is there. He thinks it better to find them--it is his head is sick. He +walks far beside me, and does not know me." + +"You are hungry?" + +She showed him a few grains of parched corn tied up in the corner of +her _manta_. "Water I have, and roots of the sand." + +"Water," repeated Miguel mechanically. "Yes, I am the one who knows +where it comes. I am the one to show you." + +The eyes of the girl met Kit's gaze of understanding. + +"The hurt is of his head," she stated again. "In the night he made +speech of strange old-time things, secret things, and of fear." + +"So? Well, it was a bad night for old men and Indian girls in the +desert. Let's be moving." + +Tula picked up her hidden wicker water bottle and trudged on sandaled +feet beside Kit. Miguel went into a heap in the saddle, dazed, +muttering disjointed Indian words, only one was repeated often enough +to make an impression,--it was Cajame. + +"What is Cajame?" he asked the girl, and she gave him a look of +tolerance. + +"He was of chiefs the most great. He was killed for his people. He was +the father of my father." + +Kit tried to recall where he had heard the name, but failed. No one +had chanced to mention that Miguel, the peaceful Piman, had any claims +on famous antecedents. He had always seemed a grave, silent man, +intent only on herding the stock and caring for the family, at the +little cluster of adobes by the well of Palomitas. It was about two +miles from the ranch house, but out of sight. An ancient river hill +terminated in a tall white butte at the junction of two arroyas, and +the springs feeding them were the deciding influence regarding +location of dwellings. Rhodes could quickly perceive how a raid could +be made on Palomitas and, if no shots were fired, not be suspected at +the ranch house of Mesa Blanca. + +The vague sentences of Miguel were becoming more connected, and Kit, +holding him in the saddle, was much puzzled by some of them. + +"It is so, and we are yet dying," he muttered as he swayed in the +saddle. "We, the Yaqui, are yet dumb as our fathers bade. But it is +the end, señor, and the red gold of Alisal is our own, and----" + +Then his voice dwindled away in mutterings and Rhodes saw that the +Indian girl was very alert, but watching him rather than her father as +she padded along beside him. + +"Where is it--Alisal?" he asked carelessly, and her velvet-black eyes +narrowed. + +"I think not anyone is knowing. It is also evil to speak of that +place," she said. + +"What makes the evil?" + +"Maybe so the padres. I no knowing, what you think?" + +But they had reached the place of camp where Cap Pike had the packs on +the animals, waiting and restless. + +"Well, you're a great little collector, Bub," he observed. "You start +out on the bare sand and gravel and raise a right pert family. Who's +your friend?" + +Despite his cynical comment, he was brisk enough with help when Miguel +slid to the ground, ashen gray, and senseless. + +"Now we are up against trouble, with an old cripple and a petticoat to +tote, and water the other side of the range." + +But he poured a little of the precious fluid down the throat of the +Indian, who recovered, but stared about vacantly. + +"Yes, señor," he said nodding his head when his eyes rested on Rhodes, +"as you say--it is for the water--as you say--it is the end--for the +Yaqui. Dead is Cajame--die all we by the Mexican! To you, señor, my +child, and El Alisal of the gold of the rose. So it will be, señor. It +is the end--the water is there, señor. It is to you." + +"That's funny," remarked Pike, "he's gone loony and talking of old +chief Cajame of the Yaquis. He was hanged by the Mexican government +for protesting against loot by the officials. A big man he was, +nothing trifling about Cajame! That old Indian had eighty thousand in +gold in a government bank. Naturally the Christian rulers couldn't +stand for that sort of shiftlessness in a heathen! Years ago it was +they burned him out, destroyed his house and family;--the whole thing +was hellish." + +The girl squatting in the sand, never took her eyes off Pike's face. +It was not so much the words, but the tone and expression she gave +note to, and then she arose and moved over beside her father. + +"No," she said stolidly, "it is his families here, Yaqui me--no Pima! +Hiding he was when young, hiding with Pima men all safe. The padre of +me is son to Cajame,--only to you it is told, you Americano!" + +Her eyes were pitiful in their strained eagerness, striving with all +her shocked troubled soul to read the faces of the two men, and +staking all her hopes of safety in her trust. + +"You bet we're Americano, Tula, and so will you be when we get you +over the border," stated Rhodes recklessly. "I don't know how we are +going to do it, Cap, but I swear I'm not going to let a plucky little +girl like that go adrift to be lifted by the next gang of raiders. We +need a mascot anyway, and she is going to be it." + +"You're a nice sort of seasoned veteran, Bub," admitted Pike dryly, +"but in adopting a family it might be as well to begin with a he +mascot instead of what you've picked. A young filly like that might +turn hoodoo." + +"I reckon I'd have halted for a sober second thought if it hadn't been +for that other girl under the stones down there," agreed Rhodes. "But +shucks!--with all the refugees we're feeding across the line where's +the obstacle to this one?" + +The old prospector was busy with the wounded head for the Indian and +had no reply ready, but shook his head ominously. Rhodes scowled and +began uncoiling a _reata_ in case it would be needed to tie Miguel in +the saddle. + +"We've got to get some hustle to this outfit," he observed glancing at +the sun. "It's too far to take them back to Whitely's, and water has +to be had. We are really nearer to Soledad!" + +The Indian girl came closer to him, speaking in a low, level manner, +strange and secretive, yet not a whisper. + +"He does know--and water is there at that place," she said. "In the +night I am hearing him speak all what the ancients hide. He no can +walk to that place, maybe I no can walk, but go you for the gold in +the hidden cañon. You are Americano,--strong,--is it not? A brave +heart and much of gold of rose would bring safe again the mother of me +and my sister! All this I listen to in the night. For them the gold of +rose by the hidden water is to be uncovered again. But see, his hands +are weak, his head is like the _niño_ in the reed basket. A stronger +heart must find the way--it is you." + +Lowly, haltingly, she kept on that level-voiced decision. It was +evident that the ravings of her father through the long hours of the +dreadful night had filled her mind with his one desire: to dare the +very gods that the red gold might be uncovered again, and purchase +freedom for the Indians on the exile road to the coast. + +So low were her words that even Cap Pike, a rod away, only heard the +voice, but not the subject. It was further evident that she meant but +the one man to hear. Pike had white hair and to her mind was, like her +father, to be protected from responsibilities, but Rhodes loomed +strong and kind, and braced by youth for any task. + +Rhodes looked at her pityingly, and patted her head. + +"I reckon we're all a little loco, kid," he observed. "You're so +paralyzed with the hell you saw, and his ravings that you think his +dope of the gold is all gospel, but it's only a dream, sister,--a sick +man's fancy, though you sure had me going for a minute, plum +hypnotized by the picture." + +"It is to hide always," she said. "No man must know. No other eyes +must see, only you!" + +"Sure," he agreed. + +"You promising all?" + +"Sure again! Just to comfort you I promise that when I find the gold +of El Alisal I will use it to help get your people." + +"Half," she decided. "Half to you." + +"Half it is! You're a great little planner for your size, kid. Too bad +it's only a dream." + +Cap Pike rose to his feet, and gave a hand to Miguel, who reeled, and +then steadied himself gradually. + +"Most thanks, señor," he whispered, "and when we reach the water----" + +They helped him into the saddle, and Rhodes walked beside, holding him +as he swayed. + +They passed the new-made grave in the sand, and Rhodes turned to the +girl. "Sister," he said, "lift two stones and add to that pile there, +one for you and one for your father. Also look around and remember +this place." + +"I am no forgetting it," she said as she lifted a stone and placed it +as he told her. "It is here the exile trail. I mark the place where +you take for me the Americano road, and not the south road of the +lost. So it is,--these stone make witness." + +"I'll be shot if I don't believe you _are_ old Cajames stock," said +Cap Pike staring at her, and then meeting the gaze of Rhodes in wonder +at her clear-cut summing up of the situation. "But he was a handful +for the government in his day, Bub, and I'm hornswaggled if I'd pick +out his breed for a kindergarten." + +The girl heard and understood at least the jocular tenor of his +meaning, but no glance in his direction indicated it. She placed the +second stone, and then in obedience to Rhodes she looked back the way +she had come where the desert growth crisped in the waves of heat. On +one side lay the low, cactus-dotted hillocks, and on the other the +sage green and dull yellow faded into the blue mists of the eastern +range. + +"I am no forgetting it, this place ever," she said and then lifted her +water bottle and trudged on beside Rhodes. "It is where my trail +begins, with you." + +Cape Pike grinned at the joke on the boy, for it looked as if the +Yaqui girl were adopting _him_! + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +A MEETING AT YAQUI WELL + + +Good luck was with them, for the water hole in Yaqui cañon had not +been either muddied or exhausted, evidence that the raiders had not +ranged that way. The sorry looking quartette fairly staggered into the +little cañon, and the animals were frantic with desire to drink their +fill. + +"I was so near fried that the first gallon fairly sizzled down my +gullet," confessed Cap Pike after a long glorious hour of rest under +the alamos with saturated handkerchief over his burning eyes. "That +last three mile stretch was hell's back yard for me. How you reckon +the little trick over there ever stood it?" + +The Indian girl was resting near her father, and every little while +putting water on his face and hands. When she heard the voice of Pike +she sat up, and then started quietly to pick up dry yucca stalks and +bits of brushwood for a fire. + +"Look at that, would you, Bub," commented Pike, "the minute she sees +you commence to open the cook kit she is rustling for firewood. That +little devil is made of whalebone for toughness. Why, even the burros +are played out, but she is fresh as a daisy after a half hour's +rest!" + +Rhodes noted that the excitement by which she had been swayed to +confidence in the morning had apparently burned out on the trail, for +she spoke no more, only served silently as generations of her mothers +of the desert had done, and waited, crouched back of her father, while +the men ate the slender meal of _carne seco_, _atole_, and coffee. + +Cap Pike suggested that she join them, but it was her adopted guardian +who protested. + +"We won't change their ways of women," he decided. "I notice that when +white folks try to they are seldom understood. How do we know whether +that attitude is an humble effacement, or whether the rank of that +martyred ancester exalts her too greatly to allow equality with white +stragglers of the range?" + +Cap Pike snorted disdain. + +"You'll be making a Pocahontas of her if you keep on that 'noble +Injun' strain," he remarked. + +"Far be it from me! Pocahontas was a gay little hanger-on of the +camps,--not like this silent owl! Her mind seems older than her years, +and just notice her care of him, will you? I reckon he'd have wandered +away and died but for her grip on him through the night." + +Miguel sank into sleep almost at once after eating, and the girl waved +over him an alamo branch as a fan with one hand, and ate with the +other, while Rhodes looked over the scant commissary outfit, reckoning +mouths to feed and distance to supplies. The moon was at full, and +night travel would save the stock considerably. By the following noon +they could reach ranches either west or north. He was conscious of the +eyes of the girl ever on his face in mute question, and while Pike +bathed the backs of the animals, and led each to stand in the oozy +drainage of the meager well, she came close to Kit and spoke. + +"You say it is a dream, señor, and you laugh, but the red gold of El +Alisal is no dream. He, my father has said it, and after that, I, +Tula, may show it to you. Even my mother does not know, but I know. I +am of the blood to know. You will take him there, for it is a medicine +place, much medicine! He has said it to you, señor, and that gift is +great. You will come, alone,--with us, señor?" + +Kit smiled at her entreaty, patted her hair, and dug out a worn deck +of cards and shuffled them, slowly regarding the sleeping Indian the +while. + +"What's on your mind?" demanded Cap Pike, returning with his white +locks dripping from a skimpy bath. "Our grub stake is about gone, and +you've doubled the outfit. What's the next move?" + +"I'm playing a game in futures with Miguel," stated Kit, shuffling the +cards industriously. + +"Sounds loco to me, Bub," observed the veteran. "Present indications +are not encouraging as to futures there. Can't you see that he's got a +jar from which his mind isn't likely to recover? Not crazy, you know, +not a lunatic or dangerous, but just jarred from Pima man back to +Yaqui child. That's about the way I reckon it." + +"You reckon right, and it's the Yaqui child mind I'm throwing the +cards for. Best two out of three wins." + +"What the----" + +"Highest cards for K. Rhodes, and I hike across the border with our +outfit; highest cards for Miguel and my trail is blazed for the red +gold of Alisal. This is Miguel's hand--ace high for Miguel!" + +Again he shuffled and cut. + +"A saucy queen, and red at that! Oh, you charmer!" + +"You got to hustle to beat that, Bub. Go on, don't be stingy." + +Rhodes cut the third time, then stared and whistled. + +"The cards are stacked by the Indian! All three covered with war +paint. What's the use in a poor stray white bucking against that?" + +He picked out the cards and placed them side by side, ace, king and +queen of hearts. + +"Three aces could beat them," suggested Pike. "Go on Bub, shuffle them +up, don't be a piker." + +Rhodes did, and cut ten of clubs. + +"Not even the right color," he lamented. "Nothing less than two aces +for salvation, and I--don't--get--them!" + +A lonely deuce fell on the sand, and Rhodes eyed it sulkily as he +rolled a cigarette. + +"You poor little runt," he apostrophized the harmless two-spot. +"You've kicked me out of the frying pan into the fire, and a good +likely blaze at that!" + +"Don't reckon I care to go any deeper into trouble than what we've +found," decided Pike. "Ordinary Indian scraps are all in the day's +work--same with a Mexican outfit--but, Bub, this slave-hunting graft +game with the state soldiery doing the raiding is too strong a combine +for two lone rangers to buck against. Me for the old U. S. border, and +get some of this devilish word to the peace advocates at home." + +"They wouldn't believe you, and only about two papers along the border +would dare print it," observed Rhodes. "Every time a band of sunny +Mexicans loot a ranch or steal women, the word goes north that again +the bloodthirsty Yaquis are on the warpath! Those poor devils never +leave their fields of their own will, and don't know why the Americans +have a holy dread of them. Yet the Yaqui is the best worker south of +the line." + +"If he wasn't the price wouldn't be worth the slave trader's valuable +time," commented Pike. + +The Indian girl made a quick gesture of warning, just a sweep outward +of her hand along the ground. She didn't even look at them, but down +the arroya, the trail they had come. + +"_Caballos, hombres!_" she muttered in her throat. + +"The kid's right,--hear them!" said Rhodes, and then he looked at him, +and made a strange movement of eyes and head to direct the attention +back of her in the thicket of cactus and squat greasewood. He did not +look at once, but finally with a circular sweep of the locality, he +saw the light glint on a gun barrel along the edge of a little mesa +above them. + +"Nice friendly attention," he observed. "Someone sizing us up. Time to +hit the trail anyway, Cap;--to get through on the grub we have to +travel tonight." + +He rose and handed the water bottles to the girl to fill, while he +tightened cinches. + +"It's a long day's trip, Cap," he stated thoughtfully, "a long day out +to Carrizal, and a long one back to Mesa Blanca. I'll divide the dust +and the grub fifty-fifty, and you get out to some base of supplies. +I'd rather you'd take Pardner, and keep on going across the line. The +trail is clear from here for you, and enough water holes and +settlements for you to get through. I don't think Pardner would last +for the back trip, but you can save him by riding at night; the burro +and mule are best for us. Here's the dust." + +While Pike had been talking of crossing the border, Kit had been +rapidly readjusting the provision so that the old chap had enough to +carry him to the first settlement, and the gold dust would more than +pay for provision the rest of the way. + +"Why--say, Bub!" remonstrated Pike. "You're so sudden! I don't allow +to leave you by your lonesomes like this. Why, I had planned----" + +"There's nothing else to do," decided Rhodes crisply. "If you don't +beat it with Pardner, we'll lose him, sure! I'm going to take these +Indians back, and you can help most by waiting north of the line till +you hear from me. I'll get word to you at Granados. So, if there +should be any trouble with these visitors of ours, your trail is +clear;--savvy?" + +Two men rode into view in the bend of the arroya. A cartridge belt +across each shoulder, and one around each waist, was the most +important part of their equipment. + +"_Buenos dias_, señors," said one politely, while his little black +eyes roved quickly over the group. "Is there still water to be found +in the well here? _Dios!_ it is the heat of hell down there in the +valley." + +"At your service, señor, is water fresh drawn," said Rhodes, and +turned to the girl, "Oija, Tulita!--water for the gentlemen. You ride +far, señor?" + +"From Soledad wells." + +"Yes, I know the brand," remarked Rhodes. + +"This is a good season in which to avoid too much knowledge, or too +good a memory, señor," observed the man who had not spoken. "Many +herds will change hands without markets before tranquility is over in +Mexico." + +"I believe you, señor, and we who have nothing will be the lucky +ones," agreed Rhodes, regarding the man with a new interest. He was +not handsome, but there was a something quick and untamed in his keen, +black eyes, and though the mouth had cruel hard lines, his tone was +certainly friendly, yet dominating. + +"What have you here?" he asked with a gesture toward Miguel. + +"My Indian who tried to save his women from slavers, and was left for +dead," stated Rhodes frankly. + +"And this?" + +He pointed to the girl filling again the water bottles. + +"She is mine, señor. We go to our own homes." + +"Hum! you should be enlisted in the fights and become capitan, but +these would drop by the trail if you left them. Well, another time +perhaps, señor! For the water many thanks. _Adios!_" and with wave of +the hand they clattered down the arroya. + +"Queer," muttered Rhodes, "did you catch that second chap signal to +the gun man in the cactus? He craw-fished back over the mesa and faded +away." + +"They didn't come for water alone--some scouten' party trailin' every +sign found," decided Pike. "I'll bet they had us circled before the +two showed themselves. Wonder who they are after?" + +"Anyway they didn't think us worth while gathering in, which is a +comfort. That second fellow looks like someone I've crossed trails +with, but I can't place him." + +"They'll place you all right, all right!" prophesied Pike darkly, "you +and your interesting family won't need a brand." + +Rhodes stared at him a moment and then grinned. + +"Right you are, Cap. Wouldn't it be pie for the gossips to slice up +for home consumption?" + +He kept on grinning as he looked at the poor bit of human flotsam whom +he had dubbed "the owl" because of her silence and her eyes. She +aroused Miguel without words, watching him keenly for faintest sign of +recovery. The food and sleep had refreshed him in body, but the mind +was far away. To the girl he gave no notice, and after a long +bewildered stare at Rhodes he smiled in a deprecating way. + +"Your pardon, Don José, that I outsleep the camp," he muttered +haltingly. "It is a much sickness of the head to me." + +"For that reason must you ride slowly today," stated Rhodes with quick +comprehension of the groping mind, though the "Don José" puzzled him, +and at first chance he loitered behind with the girl and questioned +her. + +"How makes itself that I must know all the people in the world before +I was here on earth?" she asked morosely? "Me he does not know, Don +José is of Soledad and is of your tallness, so----" + +"Know you the man who came for water at the cañon well?" he asked, and +she looked at him quickly and away. + +"The name of the man was not spoke by him, also he said a true word of +brands on herds--these days." + +"In these days?" reflected Rhodes, amazed at the ungirlish logic. "You +know what he meant when he said that?" + +"We try that we know--all we, for the Deliverer is he named, and by +that name only he is spoke in the prayers we make." + +Rhodes stared at her, incredulous, yet wondering if the dusty vaquero +looking rider of brief words could be the man who was called outlaw, +heathen, and bandit by Calendria, and "Deliverer" by these people of +bondage. + +"You think that is true;--he will be the deliverer?" + +"I not so much think, I am only remembering what the fathers say and +the mothers. Their word is that he will be the man, if--if----" + +"Well, if what?" he asked as she crossed herself, and dropped her +head. + +"I am not wanting to say that thing. It is a scare on the heart when +it is said." + +"I'd rather be prepared for the scare if it strikes me," he announced, +and after a thoughtful silence while she padded along beside him, she +lowered her voice as though to hide her words from the evil fates. + +"Then will I tell it you:--a knife in the back is what they fear for +him, or poison in his cup. He is hated by strong haters, also he makes +them know fear. I hearing all that in the patio at Palomitas, and old +Tio Polonio is often saying all saviors are crucified. How you +think?" + +Rhodes replied vaguely as to the wisdom of Tio Polonio, for the girl +was giving him the point of view of the peon, longing for freedom, yet +fatalistic as the desert born ever are. And she had known the rebel +leader, Ramon Rotil, all the time! + +He had no doubt but that she was right. Her statement explained the +familiar appearance of the man he had not met before, though he had +seen pictures in newspapers or magazines. Then he fell to wondering +what Ramon Rotil was doing in a territory so far from the troops, +and---- + +"Don José is one of the strong men who are hating him much," confided +the child. "Also Don José comes not north alone ever anymore, always +the soldiers are his guard. Tio Polonio tells things of these +soldiers." + +"What kind of things?" + +"They are killing boys like rabbits in Canannea,--pacifico boys who +could grow to Calendrista soldiers. Such is done by the guard of Don +José and all the friends of the Deliverer are killed with a quickness. +That is how the men of Don José Perez please him most, and in the +south there are great generals who work also with him, and his hand is +made strong, also heavy, and that is what Tio Polonio is telling us +often." + +When they reached the mouth of the little cañon of the Yaqui well +where the trails divide, Pike shook hands and climbed into the saddle +of Pardner. + +"It's the first time I ever took the easy way out, and left the fight +alone to a chum,--but I'll do it, Bub, because you could not make a +quick get-away with me tagging along. Things look murkier in this +territory every minute. You'll either have the time of your life, or +a headstone early in the game. Billie and I will put it up though we +won't know where you're planted. I don't like it, but the minutes and +water for the trail are both precious. Come out quick as you can. So +long!" + +Pardner, refreshed by cooling drink and an hour's standing in wet mud +of the well drainage, stepped off briskly toward the north, while +Rhodes lifted Tula to the back of the pack mule, and Miguel unheeding +all plans or changes, drooped with closed eyes on the back of the +little burro. The manager of the reorganized gold-search syndicate +strode along in the blinding glare of the high sun, herding them ahead +of him, and as Pike turned for a last look backward at a bend of the +trail, the words of the old darkey chant came to him on the desert +air: + + _Oh, there was a frog lived in the spring!_ + + + + +CHAPTER X + +A MEXICAN EAGLET + + +The silver wheel of the moon was rolling into the west when the Indian +girl urged the mule forward, and caught the bridle of the burro. + +"What is it, Tula?" asked Rhodes, "we are doing well on the trail to +Mesa Blanca; why stop here?" + +"Look," she said. "See you anything? Know you this place in the +road?" + +He looked over the sand dunes and scrubby desert growths stretching +far and misty under the moon, and, then to the rugged gray range of +the mountain spur rising to the south. They were skirting the very +edge of it where it rose abruptly from the plain; a very great gray +upthrust of granite wall beside them was like a gray blade slanted out +of the plain. He had noticed it as one of the landmarks on the road to +Mesa Blanca, and on its face were a few curious scratchings or +peckings, one a rude sun symbol, and others of stars and waves of +water. He recalled remarking to Pike that it must have been a prayer +place for some of the old tribes. + +"Yes, I know the place, when we reach this big rock it means that we +are nearing the border of the ranch, this rock wall tells me that. We +can be at Palomitas before noon." + +"No," she said, and got down from the mule, "not to Palomitas now. +Here we carry the food, and here we hide the saddles, and the mule go +free. The burro we take, nothing else." + +"Where is a place to hide saddles here?" and he made gesture toward +the great granite plane glistening in the moonlight. + +"A place is found," she returned, "it is better we ride off the trail +at this place." + +She did so, circling back the way they had come until they were +opposite a more broken part of the mountain side, then she began +deftly to help unsaddle. + +"Break no brush and make all tracks like an Apache on the trail," she +said. + +Miguel sat silent on the burro as if asleep. He had never once roused +to give heed to the words or the trail through the long ride. At times +where the way was rough he would mutter thanks at the help of Kit and +sink again into stupor. + +"I can't spare that mule," protested Kit, but she nodded her head as +if that had been all thought out. + +"He will maybe not go far, there is grass and a very little spring +below. Come now, I show you that hidden trail." + +She picked up one of the packs and led the burro. + +"But we can't pack all this at once," decided Kit, who was beginning +to feel like the working partner in a nightmare. + +"Two times," said Tula, holding up her fingers, "I show you." + +She led the way, nervous, silent and in haste, as though in fear of +unseen enemies. Rhodes looked after her irritably. He was fagged and +worn out by one of the hardest trails he had ever covered, and was in +no condition to solve the curious problems of the Indian mind, but the +girl had proven a good soldier of the desert, and was, for the first +time, betraying anxiety, so as the burro disappeared in the blue mist, +and only the faint patter of his hoofs told the way he had gone, Kit +picked up the saddle and followed. + +The way was rough and there was no trail, simply stumbling between +great jagged slabs hewn and tossed recklessly by some convulsion of +nature. Occasionally dwarfed and stunted brush, odorous with the faint +dew of night, reached out and touched his face as he followed up and +up with ever the forbidding lances of granite sharp edged against the +sky. From the plain below there was not even an indication that +progress would be possible for any human being over the range of +shattered rock, and he was surprised to turn a corner and find Tula +helping Miguel from the saddle in a little nook where scant herbage +grew. + +"No, not in this place we camp," she said. "It is good only to hide +saddles and rest for my father. Dawn is on the trail, and the other +packs must come." + +He would have remonstrated about a return trip, but she held up her +hand. + +"It must be, if you would live," she said. "The eyes of you have not +yet seen what they are to see, it is not to be told. All hiding must +be with care, or----" + +She made swift pantomime of sighting along a gun barrel at him, and +even in the shadows he could fancy the deadly half closing of her +ungirlish eyes. Tula did not play gaily. + +Tired as he was, Kit grinned. + +"You win," he said. "Let's hit what would be the breeze if this fried +land could stir one up." + +They plodded back without further converse, secured the packs, and +this time it was Rhodes who led, as there appeared no possible way but +the one they had covered. Only once did he make a wrong turn and a +sharp "s-st" from the girl warned him of the mistake. + +They found Miguel asleep, and Kit Rhodes would willingly have sunk +down beside him and achingly striven for the same forgetfulness, but +Tula relentlessly shook Miguel awake, got him on the burro, unerringly +designated the food bag in the dark, and started again in the lead. + +"I reckon you're some sort of Indian devil," decided Kit, shouldering +the bag. "No mere mortal ever made this trail or kept it open." + +Several times the towering walls suggested the bottom of a well, and +as another and another loomed up ahead, he gloomily prophesied an +ultimate wall, and the need of wings. + +Then, just as the first faint light began in the eastern heavens, he +was aware that the uneven trail was going down and down, zig-zagging +into a ravine like a great gray bowl, and the bottom of it filled with +shadows of night. + +The girl was staggering now with exhaustion though she would not +confess it. Once she fell, and he lifted her thinking she was hurt, +but she clung to him, shaking from weakness, but whispering, "_Pronto, +pronto!_" + +"Sure!" he agreed, "all the swiftness the outfit can muster." + +Curious odors came to him from the shadowy bowl, not exactly a +pleasing fragrance, yet he knew it--But his mind refused to work. As +the trail grew wider, and earth was under his feet instead of rock +slivers and round boulders, he discovered that he was leading the +burro, the grub sack over his shoulder, and with the other arm was +supporting the girl, who was evidently walking with closed eyes, able +to progress but not to guide herself. + +Then there was the swish-swish of grasses about their feet and poor +Bunting snatched mouthfuls as all three staggered downward. The light +began to grow, and somewhere in the shadowy bowl there was the most +blest sound known in the desert, the gurgle of running water! + +"We hear it--but we can't believe it--old Buntin'," muttered Kit +holding the burro from steady and stubborn attempts to break away, +"and you are just loco enough to think you smell it." + +Then suddenly their feet struck rock again, not jagged or slippery +fragments, but solid paving, and a whiff of faint mist drifted across +his face in the gray of the first dawn, and the burro craned his neck +forward at the very edge of a black rock basin where warm vapor struck +the nostrils like a soporific. + +The girl roused herself at a wordless exclamation from Rhodes, and +began automatically helping Miguel from the saddle, and stripping him +to the breechcloth. + +Kit's amazement startled him out of his lethargy of exhaustion. It was +light enough now to see that her eyes were bloodshot, and her +movements quick with a final desperation. + +"There!" she said and motioned towards a shelving place in the rock, +"there--medicine--all quick!" + +She half lifted the staggering, unconscious Indian, and Kit, +perceiving her intention, helped her with Miguel to the shallow edge +of the basin where she rolled him over until he was submerged to the +shoulder in the shallow bath, cupping her hands she scooped water and +drenched his face. + +"Why,--it's warm!" muttered Kit. + +"Medicine," said Tula, and staggered away. + +How Rhodes shed his own garments and slipped into the basin beside +Miguel he never knew, only he knew he had found an early substitute +for heaven. It was warm sulphur water,--tonic, refreshing and +infinitely soothing to every sore muscle and every frazzled nerve. He +ducked his head in it, tossed some more over the head and shoulders of +the sleeping Indian, and then, submerged to his arms, he promptly +drifted into slumber himself. + +He wakened to the sound of Baby Bunting pawing around the grub pack. +Hunger was his next conviction, for the heavenly rest in the medicine +bath had taken every vestige of weariness away. He felt lethargic from +the sulphur fumes, and more sleep was an enticing thought, yet he put +it from him and got into his clothes after the use of a handkerchief +as a bath towel. Miguel still slept and Kit bent over him in some +concern, for the sleep appeared curiously deep and still, the breath +coming lightly, yet he did not waken when lifted out of the water and +covered with a poncho in the shade of a great yucca. + +"I reckon it's some dope in these hot springs," decided Kit. "I feel +top heavy myself, and won't trouble him till I've rustled some grub +and have something to offer. Well, Buntin', we are all here but the +daughter of the Glen," he said, rescuing the grub sack, "and if she +was a dream and you inveigled me here by your own diabolical powers, +I've a hunch this is our graveyard; we'll never see the world and its +vanities again!" + +A bit of the blue and scarlet on a bush above caught his eye. It was +the belt of Tula, and he went upwards vaguely disturbed that he had +drifted into ease without question of her welfare. + +He found her emerging from a smaller rock basin, her one garment +dripping a wet trail as she came towards him. There was no smile in +her greeting, but a look of content, of achievement. + +"My father," she said, "he is----" + +"Sleeping beyond belief! good medicine sleep, I hope." + +She nodded her head comprehendingly, for she had done the impossible +and had triumphed. She looked at the sack of food he held. + +"There is one place for fire, and other water is there. Come, it is to +you." + +She struck off across the sun-bathed little grass plot to a jumble of +rock where a cool spring emerged, ran only a few rods, and sank again +out of sight. The shattered rock was as a sponge, so completely was +the water sucked downward again. Marks of burro's hoofs were there. + +"Baby Buntin' been prospecting while we wallowed in the dope bath," +said Kit. + +"Maybe so, maybe not," uttered the Indian child, if such she could be +called after the super-woman initiative of that forbidding trail. She +was down on her knees peering at the tracks in the one little wet spot +below the spring. + +"Two," she said enigmatically. "That is good, much good. It will be +meat." + +Then she saw him pulling dry grasses and breaking branches of scrub +growth for a fire, and she stood up and motioned him to follow. They +were in a narrow, deep ravine separated from the main one by the +miniature plain of lush grass, a green cradle of rest in the heart of +the gray hills. She went as directly upward as the broken rock would +permit, and suddenly he followed her into a blackened cave formed by a +great granite slab thrusting itself upwards and enduring through the +ages when the broken rock had shattered down to form an opposite wall. +And the cloud bursts of the desert had swept through, and washed the +sands clear, leaving a high black roof slanting upwards to the +summit. + +Tula moved ahead into the far shadows. He could see that beyond her +somewhere a ray of light filtered blue, but he halted at the entrance, +puzzled at the black roof where all the rock of the mountain was gray +and white except where mineral streaks were of reds and russets and +moldy greens. Then he put his hand up and touched the roof and +understood. Soot from ancient fires was discernible on his hand, +flakes of it fell to the floor, dry and black, scaling off under +pressure. The scales were thick and very old, like blackened moss. He +had seen blackened rock like that in other volcanic regions, but this +was different. + +"It is here," said Tula, and he followed the voice through a darker +shadowed bit of the way, then through the ray of light, and then---- + +The first thing he saw was the raised hearth of a rather pretentious +fireplace, or place of fire, for it resembled not at all the tiny +little cooking hearth of desert Indians. A stone hatchet lay beside +it, and, what was much more surprising, two iron instruments of white +man's manufacturing, a wedge and a long chisel. + +He picked up the chisel, weighed it in his hand, and looked at the +girl. He was now becoming accustomed to the dim light and could see +her eyes following his every movement with curious questioning. There +was a tiny frowning wrinkle between her brows as if serious matters +were being decided there. + +"It is here," she said again. "Maybe someone dies when a white friend +is shown the way--maybe I die, who knows?--but it is here--El Alisal +of the gold of the rose!" + +She made a little gesture and moved aside, and the chisel fell to the +stone floor with a clang as Kit shouted and dropped on his knees +before an incredible thing in the gray wall. + +That upthrust of the rock wall had strange variety of color, and +between the granite and the gray limestone there was a ragged rusty +band of iron as a note of contrast to the sprinkling of glittering +quartz catching the ray of light, but the quartz was sprinkled on a +six inch band of yellow--not the usual quartz formation with dots of +color, but a deep definite yellow held together by white crystals. + +"The red gold! it's the red gold!" he said feeling the yellow surface +instinctively. + +"Yes, señor, it is the red gold of El Alisal, and it is to you," but +her eyes were watching him hungrily as she spoke. And something of +that pathetic fear penetrated his amazed mind, and he remembered. + +"No, Tula, only my share to me. I do the work, but the great share is +to you, that it may buy back your mother from the slavers of the +south." + +"Also my sister," said the girl, and for the first time she wept. + +"Come, come! This is the time for joy. The danger is gone, and we are +at rest beside this--why, it's a dream come true, the golden dream! +Come, help me cook that we may be strong for the work." + +She helped silently, fetching water and more sticks for the fire. + +There were many things to ask, but he asked no questions, only gazed +between bites and sups at the amazing facts facing him. + +"I've seen ores and ores in my time, but nothing like this!" he +exulted. "Why, I can 'high grade' mule loads of this and take it out +without smelting," and then he grinned at his little partner. "We just +struck it in time,--meat is mighty near done." + +"Plenty meat!" she said nodding her head wisely. "Burro, big burro, +wild burro! I see track." + +"Wild burro? Sure, that makes it simple till we rest up. You are one +great little commissary sergeant." + +He noted that the pitch of the roof towards the face of the mountain +carried the smoke in a sort of funnel to be sifted through high +unseen crannies of shattered rock above. All was dark in the end of +the gallery, but a perceptible draught from the portal bore the smoke +upward. + +"It's too good to be true," he decided, looking it over. "I'm chewing +bacon and it tastes natural, but I'm betting with myself that this is +a dream, and I'll wake up in the dope pond with my mouth full of +sulphur water." + +The girl watched him gravely, and ate sparingly, though parched corn +had been her only sustenance through the trail of the dreadful night. +Her poor sandals were almost cut from her feet, and even while jesting +at the unreality of it all, Kit was making mental note of her +needs--the wild burro would at least provide green hide sandals for +her until better could be found, and she had earned the best. + +He was amazed at her keenness. She did not seem to think, but +instinctively to feel her way to required knowledge, caring for +herself in the desert as a fledgling bird tossed by some storm from +the home nest. He remembered there were wild burros in the Sonora +hills, but that she should have already located one on this most +barren of mountains was but another unbelievable touch to the trail of +enchantment, and after a century of lost lives and treasure in the +search for the Indian mine, to think that this Indian stray, picked up +on a desolate trail, should have been the one to know that secret and +lead him to it! + +"Other times you have been here?" he asked as he poured coffee in a +tin for Miguel, and dug out the last box of crackers from the grub +pack. + +"Once I come, one time, and it was to make prayer here. It is mine to +know, but not my mother, not other peoples, only the father of me and +me. If I die then he show the trail to other one, not if I live. That +is how." + +"He surely picked the right member of his honorable family," decided +Kit. "Only once over the trail, once?" + +"I knowing it long before I see it," she explained gravely. "The +father of me make that trail in the sand for my eyes when I am only +little. I make the same for him in a game to play. When I make every +turn right, and name the place, and never forget--then he bring me, +for it is mine to know." + +"Sufferin' cats!" muttered Rhodes, eyeing her in wonder. "The next +time I see an Indian kid playing in the sand, I'll linger on the trail +and absorb wisdom!" + +"Come," she said, "you not seeing the one enchant look, the--how you +say?--the not believe look." + +"Well, take it from me, Cinderella, I'm seeing not believe things this +very now," announced Kit, giving a fond look towards that comforting +gleam of yellow metal bedding flecks of quartz. "I see it, but will +have to sleep, and wake up to find it in the same place before I can +believe what I think I see." + +With the food and drink for Miguel in his hands he had followed the +girl through the shadowed gallery of the slanting smoke-stained roof. +His eyes were mainly directed to the rock floor lest he stumble and +spill the precious coffee; thus he gave slight thought to the little +ravine up which she had led him to the cave which was also a mine. + +But as he stepped out into the sunlight she stood looking up into his +face with almost a smile, the first he had seen in her wistful tragic +eyes. Then she lifted her hand and pointed straight out, and the +"enchant look," the "not believe" look was there! He stared as at a +mirage for an incredulous moment, and then whispered, "Great God of +the Desert!" + +For a little space, a few rods only, the mountain dipped steeply, and +trickling water from above fell in little cascades to lower levels, +where a great jagged wall of impregnable granite arose as a barrier +along the foot of the mountain. + +But he was above the sharp outline of the huge saw with the jagged +granite teeth, and between the serrated edges he could look far across +the yellow-gray reaches of sand and desert growths. Far and wide was +the "not believe" look, to the blue phantom-like peaks on the horizon, +but between the two ranges was a white line with curious dots drifting +and whirling like flies along it, and smoke curling up, and---- + +Then it was he uttered the incredulous cry, for he was indeed viewing +the thing scarce to be believed. + +He was looking across the great Rancho Soledad, and the white line +against the sand was the wall of the old mission where the vaqueros +were herding a band of horses into the great quadrangle of the +one-time patio turned into a corral since the buildings on three sides +had melted down again into mother earth. + +He remembered riding around these lines of the old arches seeking +trace of that door of the legend,--the door from which the aliso tree +of the mine could be seen,--and there was nowhere a trace of a door. + +"Queer that every other part of the prospect developed according +to specifications and not the door," he grumbled whimsically. +"Cinderella, why have you hid the door in the wall from me?" + +She looked around uncertainly, not understanding. + +"No portal but it," she said with a movement of her head towards the +great slab forming a pointed arch against the mountain and shielding +the unbelievable richness there, "also El Alisal, the great tree, is +gone. This was the place of it; the old ones tell my father it was as +chief of the trees and stand high to be seen. The sky fire took it, +and took the padres that time they make an altar in this place." + +"Um," assented Kit, noting traces of ancient charcoal where the aliso +tree had grown great in the moisture of the spring before lightning +had decided its tragic finish, "a great storm it must have been to +send sky fire enough to kill them all." + +"Yes," said Tula quietly,--"also there was already another shrine at +this place, and the gods near." + +He glanced at her quickly and away. + +"Sure," he agreed, "sure, that's how it must have been. They destroyed +the aliso and there was no other landmark to steer by. White men might +find a thousand other dimples in the range but never this one, the +saw-tooth range below us has the best of them buffaloed. Come along, +Señorita Aladdin, and help me with the guardian of the treasure. We've +got to look after Miguel, and then start in where the padres left off. +And you might do a prayer stunt or two at the shrine you mentioned. We +need all the good medicine help you can evoke." + +As they approached the pool where the faintest mist drifted above the +water warm from hidden fires of the mountain, Kit halted before he +quite reached the still form beside the yucca, and, handing the food +and drink to the girl, he went forward alone. + +He was puzzled afterward as to why he had done that, for no fold of +the garment was disturbed, nothing visible to occasion doubt, yet he +bent over and lifted the cover very gently. The face of Miguel was +strangely gray and there was no longer sign of breath. The medicine of +the sacred pool had given him rest, but not life. + +He replaced the blanket and turned to the girl;--the last of the +guardians of the shrine of the red gold. + +"Little sister," he said, "Miguel grew tired of the trails of a hard +land. He has made his choice to go asleep here in the place where you +tell me the gods are near. He does not want us to have sad hearts, for +he was very sad and very tired, and he will not need food, Tula." + +Her eyes filled with tears, but she made no reply, only unbound her +hair as she had seen mourning women do, and seated herself apart, her +face hidden in her arms. + +"No one is left to mourn but me, and I mourn!" she half chanted. "I +say it for the mother of me, and for my sister, that the ghosts may +listen. Happily he is going now from hard trails! He has chosen at +this place! Happily he has chosen, and only we are sad. No debt is +ours to pay at this place; he has chosen--and a life is paid at El +Alisal! Happily he will find the trail of the birds from this place, +and the trail of the clouds over the high mountain. No one is left to +mourn but me; and I mourn!" + +Rhodes understood no word of her lamentations, chanted now loudly, now +lowly, at intervals hour after hour that day. He set grimly to work +digging a grave in the lower part of the ravine, gathering dry grass +for lining as best he could to make clear to the girl that no lack of +care or honor was shown the last man of Cajame's stock. + +The work took most of the day, for he carried stone and built a wall +around the grave and covered it with slatelike slabs gathered from a +shattered upheaval of long ago. + +Tula watched all this gravely, and with approval, for she drew with +her finger the mark of the sun symbol on one of the slabs. + +"It is well to make that mark," she said, "for the sons of Cajame were +priests of the sun. The sign is on the great rock of the trail, and it +is theirs." + +With the chisel he carved the symbol as she suggested, glad to do +anything for the one mourner for the dead man who had offered the +treasure of the desert to him. + +"That is how he made choice," she said when it was marked plainly. +"Me, I think he was leading us on the night trail to this place--I +think so. He is here to guard the gold of El Alisal for you. That is +how it will be. He has made choice." + +Kit got away by himself to think over the unexpected situation. The +girl climbed to a higher point, seated herself, and continued her +chant of mourning. He knew she was following, as best she knew, the +traditional formalities of a woman for the death of a chief. He found +himself more affected by that brave fatalistic recital, now loud and +brave, now weirdly slow and tender, than if she had given way to +tempests of tears. A man could comfort and console a weeping stray of +the desert, but not a girl who sat with unbound hair under the yucca +and called messages to the ghosts until the sun,--a flaming ball of +fire,--sank beyond the far purple hills. + +And that was the first day of many days at the hidden treasure place +of the red gold. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +GLOOM OF BILLIE + + +The return of Captain Pike on Kit's horse was a matter of considerable +conjecture at Granados, but the old prospector was so fagged that at +first he said little, and after listening to the things Billie had to +tell him--he said less. + +"That explains the curious ways of the Mexicans as I reached the +border," he decided. "They'd look first at the horse, then at me, but +asked no questions, and told me nothing. Queer that no word reached us +about Singleton! No, it isn't either. We never crossed trails with any +from up here. There's so much devilment of various sorts going on down +there that a harmless chap like Singleton wouldn't be remembered." + +"Conrad's down at Magdalena now, but we seldom know how far he ranges. +Sometimes he stays at the lower ranch a week at a time, and he might +go on to Sinaloa for all we know. He seems always busy and is +extremely polite, but I gave him the adobe house across the arroya +after Papa Phil--went. I know he has the Mexicans thinking Kit Rhodes +came back for that murder; half of them believe it!" + +"Well, I reckon I can prove him an alibi if it's needed. I'll go see +the old judge." + +"He'll tell you not to travel at night, or alone, if you know +anything," she prophesied. "That's what he tells me. To think of old +Rancho Granados coming to that pass! We never did have trouble here +except a little when Apaches went on the warpath before my time, and +now the whole border is simmering and ready to boil over if anyone +struck a match to it. The judge hints that Conrad is probably only one +cog in the big border wheel, and they are after the engineer who turns +that wheel, and do you know you haven't told me one word of Kit +Rhodes, or whether he's alive or dead!" + +"Nothing to tell! We didn't find it, and he took the back trail with +an Indian girl and her daddy, and----" + +"An--Indian girl?" + +"Yes, a queer little kid who was in a lot of trouble. Her father was +wounded in one of the fracases they have down there every little +while. Nary one of us could give an address when we took different +trails, for we didn't know how far we'd be allowed to travel--the +warring factions are swarming and troublesome over the line." + +"Well, if a girl could stand the trail, it doesn't look dangerous." + +"Looks are deceptive, child,--and this isn't just any old girl! It's a +rare bird, it's tougher than whalebone and possessed of a wise little +devil. She froze to Kit as a _compadre_ at first chance. He headed +back to Mesa Blanca. I reckon they'd make it,--barring accidents." + +"Mesa Blanca? That's the Whitely outfit?" + +"Um!" assented Pike, "but I reckon Whitely's hit the trail by now. +There's no real profit in raising stock for the warriors down there; +each band confiscates what he needs, and gives a promissory note on an +empty treasury." + +"Well, the attraction must be pretty strong to hold him down there in +spite of conditions," said Billie gloomily. + +"Attraction? Sure. Kit's gone loco on that attraction," agreed the old +prospector, and then with a reminiscent light in his tired old eyes he +added, "I reckon there's no other thing so likely to snare a man on a +desert trail. You see, Billie-child, it's just as if the great God had +hid a treasure in the beginning of the world to stay hid till the +right lad ambled along the trail, and lifted the cover, and when a +fellow has youth, and health and not a care in the world, the search +alone is a great game--And when he finds it!--why, Billie, the +dictionary hasn't words enough to tell the story!" + +"No--I--I reckon not," said his listener in a small voice, and when he +looked around to speak to her again she had disappeared, and across +the patio Doña Luz was coming towards him in no good humor. + +"How is it that poor little one weeps now when you are returned, and +not at other times?" she demanded. "Me, I have my troubles since that +day they find the Don Filipe shot dead,--_Jesusita_ give him rest! +That child is watching the Sonora trail and waiting since that day, +but no tears until you are come. I ask you how is the way of that?" + +Captain Pike stared at her reflectively. + +"You are a bringer of news, likewise a faithful warden," he observed. +"I'm peaceably disposed, and not wise to your lingo. Billie and me +were talking as man to man, free and confidential, and no argument. +There were no weeps that I noticed. What's the reason why?" + +"The saints alone know, and not me!" she returned miserably. "I think +she is scared that it was the Señor Rhodes who shooting Don Filipe, +the vaqueros thinking that! But she tells no one, and she is unhappy. +Also there is reason. That poor little one has the ranchos, but have +you hear how the debts are so high all the herds can never pay? That +is how they are saying now about Granados and La Partida, and at the +last our señorita will have no herds, and no ranchos, and no people +but me. _Madre de Dios!_ I try to think of her in a little adobe by +the river with only _frijoles_ in the dinner pot, and I no see it that +way. And I not seeing it other way. How you think?" + +"I don't, it's too new," confessed Pike. "Who says this?" + +"The Señor Henderson. I hear him talk with Señor Conrad, who has much +sorrow because the Don Filipe made bad contracts and losing the money +little and little, and then the counting comes, and it is big, very +big!" + +"Ah! the Señor Conrad has much sorrow, has he?" queried Pike, "and +Billie is getting her face to the wall and crying? That's queer. +Billie always unloaded her troubles on me, and you say there was none +of this weeping till I came back?" + +"That is so, señor." + +"Cause why?" + +"_Quien sabe?_ She was making a long letter to Señor Rhodes in +Sonora,--that I know. He sends no word, so--I leave it to you, señor, +it takes faith and more faith when a man is silent, and the word of a +killing is against him." + +"Great Godfrey, woman! He never got a letter, he knows nothing of a +killing. How in hell--" Then the captain checked himself as he saw the +uselessness of protesting to Doña Luz. "Where's Billie?" + +Billie was perched on a window seat in the _sala_, her eyes were more +than a trifle red, and she appeared deeply engrossed in the pages of a +week-old country paper. + +"I see here that Don José Perez of Hermosillo is to marry Doña Dolores +Terain, the daughter of the general," she observed impersonally. "He +owns Rancho Soledad, and promises the Sonora people he will drive the +rebel Rotil into the sea, and it was but yesterday Tia Luz was telling +me of his beautiful wife, Jocasta, who was only a little mountain girl +when he rode through her village and saw her first. She is still +alive, and it looks to me as if all men are alike!" + +"More or less," agreed Pike amicably, "some of us more, some of us +less. Doña Dolores probably spells politics, but Doña Jocasta is a +wildcat of the sierras, and I can't figure out any harmonious days for +a man who picks two like that." + +"He doesn't deserve harmony; no man does who isn't true--isn't true," +finished Billie rather lamely. + +"Look here, honey child," observed Pike, "you'll turn man hater if you +keep on working your imagination. Luz tells me you are cranky against +Kit, and that the ranches are tied up in business knots tighter than I +had any notion of, so you had better unload the worst you can think +of on me; that's what I'm here for. What difference do the Perez +favorites make to our young lives? Neither Dolores nor Jocasta will +help play the cards in our fortunes." + +Wherein Captain Pike was not of the prophets. The wells of Sonora are +not so many but that he who pitches his tent near one has a view and +greetings of all drifting things of the desert, and the shadowed star +of Doña Jocasta of the south was leading her into the Soledad +wilderness forsaken of all white men but one. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +COVERING THE TRAIL + + +Each minute of the long days, Rhodes worked steadily and gaily, +picking out the high grade ore from the old Indian mine, and every +possible night he and the burro and Tula made a trip out to the foot +of the range, where they buried their treasure against the happy day +when they could go out of the silent desert content for the time with +what gold they could carry in secret to the border. + +For two days he had watched the Soledad ranch house rather closely +through the field glass, for there was more activity there than +before; men in groups rode in who were not herding. He wondered if it +meant a military occupation, in which case he would need to be doubly +cautious when emerging from the hidden trail. + +The girl worked as he worked. Twice he had made new sandals for her, +and also for himself in order to save his boots so that they might at +least be wearable when he got among people. All plans had been thought +out and discussed until no words would be needed between them when +they separated. She was to appear alone at Palomitas with a tale of +escape from the slavers, and he was carefully crushing and mashing +enough color to partly fill a buckskin bag to show as the usual fruits +of a prospect trip from which he was returning to Mesa Blanca after +exhausting grub stake and shoe leather. + +The things of the world had stood still for him during that hidden +time of feverish work. He scarcely dared try to estimate the value of +the ore he had dug as honey from a hollow tree, but it was rich--rich! +There were nuggets of pure gold, assorted as to their various sizes, +while he milled and ground the quartz roughly, and cradled it in the +water of the brook. + +By the innocent aid of Baby Bunting, two wild burros of the sierra had +been enticed within reach for slaughter, and, aside from the food +values, they furnished green hide which under Kit's direction, Tula +deftly made into bags for carrying the gold. + +All activities during the day were carefully confined within a certain +radius, low enough in the little cañon to run no risk in case any +inquisitive resident of Soledad should study the ranges with a field +glass, though Kit had not seen one aside from his own since he entered +Sonora. And he used his own very carefully every morning and evening +on the wide valley of Soledad. + +"Something doing down there, sister," he decided, as they were +preparing for the last trail out. "Riders who look like cavalry, +mules, and some wagons--mighty queer!" + +Tula came over and stood beside him expectantly. He had learned that a +look through the magic glasses was the most coveted gift the camp +could grant to her, and it had become part of the regular routine that +she stood waiting her turn for the wide look, the "enchant look," as +she had called it that first morning. It had become a game to try to +see more than he, and this time she mentioned as he had, the wagons, +and mules, and riders. And then she looked long and uttered a brief +Indian word of surprise. + +"Beat me again, have you?" queried Kit good humoredly. "What do you +find?" + +"A woman is there, in that wagon,--sick maybe. Also one man is a +padre; see you!" + +Kit took the glasses and saw she was right. A man who looked like a +priest was helping a woman from a wagon, she stumbled forward and then +was half carried by two men towards the house. + +"Not an Indian woman?" asked Kit, and again her unchildlike mind +worked quickly. + +"A padre does not bow his head to help Indian woman. Caballeros do not +lift them up." + +"Well I reckon Don José Perez is home on a visit, and brought his +family. A queer time! Other ranch folks are getting their women north +over the border for safety." + +"Don José not bring woman to Soledad--ever. He take them away. His men +take them away." + +It was the first reference she had made to the slavers since they had +entered the cañon, though she knew that each pile of nuggets was part +of the redemption money for those exiles of whom she did not speak. + +But she worked tirelessly until Kit would stop her, or suggest some +restful task to vary the steady grind of carrying, pounding, or +washing the quartz. He had ordered her to make two belts, that each of +them might carry some of the gold hidden under their garments. She had +a nugget tied in a corner of her _manta_, and other small ones +fastened in her girdle, while in the belt next her body she carried +all he deemed safe to weight her with, probably five pounds. At any +hint of danger she would hide the belt and walk free. + +His own belt would carry ten pounds without undue bulkiness. And over +three hundred pounds of high grade gold was already safely hidden near +the great rock with the symbols of sun and rain marking its weathered +surface. + +"A fair hundred thousand, and the vein only scratched!" he exulted. "I +was sore over losing the job on Billie's ranch,--but gee! this looks +as if I was knocked out in the cold world to reach my good luck!" + +In a blue dusk of evening they left the camp behind and started over +the trail, after Tula had carefully left fragments of food on the tomb +of Miguel, placed there for the ghosts who are drawn to a comrade. + +Kit asked no questions concerning any of her tribal customs, since to +do so would emphasize the fact that they were peculiar and strange to +him, and the Indian mind, wistfully alert, would sense that +strangeness and lose its unconsciousness in the presence of an alien. +So, when she went, after meals, to offer dregs of the soup kettle or +bones of the burro, she often found a bunch of desert blossoms wilting +there in the heat, and these tributes left by Kit went far to +strengthen her confidence. It was as if Miguel was a live partner in +their activities, never forgotten by either. So they left him on +guard, and turned their faces toward the outer world of people. + +Knowing more than he dare tell the girl his mind was considerably +occupied with that woman at Soledad, for military control changed over +night in many a province of Mexico in revolutionary days, and the time +at the hidden mine might have served for many changes. + +Starlight and good luck was on the trail for them, and at earliest +streak of dawn they buried their treasure, divided their dried burro +meat, and with every precaution to hide the trail where they emerged +from the gray sierra, they struck the road to Mesa Blanca. + +Until full day came Tula rode the burro, and slipped off at a ravine +where she could walk hidden, on the way to Palomitas. + +"Buntin'," said Kit, watching her go, "we'll have pardners and +pardners in our time, but we'll never find one more of a thoroughbred +than that raggedy Indian witch-child of ours." + +He took the slanting cattle trail up over the mesa, avoiding the wagon +road below, and at the far edge of it halted to look down over the +wide spreading leagues of the Mesa Blanca ranch. + +It looked very sleepy, drowsing in the silence of the noon sun. An old +Indian limped slowly from the corral over to the ranch house, and a +child tumbled in the dust with a puppy, but there was no other sign of +ranch activity. As he descended the mesa and drew nearer the corrals +they had a deserted look, not merely empty but deserted. + +The puppy barked him a welcome, but the child gave one frightened look +at Kit, and with a howl of fear, raced to the shelter of the portal +where he disappeared in the shadows. + +"I had a hunch, Babe, that we needed smoothing down with a currycomb +before we made social calls," confessed Kit to the burro, "but I +didn't reckon on scaring the natives in any such fashion as this." + +He was conscious of peering eyes at a barred window, and then the old +Indian appeared. + +"Hello, Isidro!" + +"At your service, señor," mumbled the old man, and then he stared at +the burro, and at the bearded and rather desert-worn stranger, and +uttered a cry of glad recognition. + +"Ai-ji! It is El Pajarito coming again to Mesa Blanca, but coming with +dust in your mouth and no song! Enter, señor, and take your rest in +your own house. None are left to do you honor but me,--all gone like +that!" and his skinny black hands made a gesture as if wafting the +personnel of Mesa Blanca on its way. "The General Rotil has need the +cattle, and makes a divide with Señor Whitely and all go,--all the +herds," and he pointed east. + +Kit bathed his face in the cool water brought out by Valencia, +Isidro's wife, then unloaded the burro of the outfit, and stretched +himself in the shade while the women busied themselves preparing +food. + +"So General Rotil makes a divide of the cattle,--of Whitely's cattle? +How is that?" he asked. + +And the old Indian proceeded to tell him that it was true. The +Deliverer must feed his army. He needed half, and promised Whitely to +furnish a guard for the rest of the herd and help Whitely save them by +driving them to Imuris, where the railroad is. + +"He said enemy troops would come from the south and take them all in +one week or one month. He, Rotil, would pay a price. Thus it was, and +Señor Whitely, and enough vaqueros, rode with the herds, and General +Rotil took the rest of the ranchmen to be his soldiers. Of course it +might be Señor Whitely would some day return, who knows? And he left a +letter for the señor of the songs." + +The letter corroborated Isidro's statements--it was the only way to +save any of the stock. Whitely thought there was a hundred or two +still ranging in the far corners, but time was short, and he was +saving what he could. The men were joining the revolutionists and he +would be left without help anyway. If Rhodes came back he was to use +the place as his own. If he could round up any more horses or cattle +on the range and get them to safety Isidro would find some Indians to +help him, and Whitely would divide the profits with him. + +"Fine!--divides first with the Deliverer, and next with me! Can't see +where that hombre gets off when it comes to staking his own family to +a living. But it's a bargain, and this is my headquarters until I can +get out. How long has Whitely and his new friends been gone?" + +"Four days, señor." + +"Seen any stragglers of cattle left behind?" + +Isidro's grandson, Clodomiro, had found both horses and cattle and +herded them into far cañons; a man might ride in a circle for five +miles around the ranch house and see never a fresh track. Clodomiro +was a good boy, and of much craft. + +Dinner was announced for the señor, and the women showed him welcome +by placing before him the most beautiful repast they could arrange +quickly, _chile con carne_, _frijoles_, _tortillas_, and a decanter of +Sonora wine--a feast for a king! + +After he had eaten, tobacco was brought him from some little hidden +store, and Isidro gave him the details of the slave raid of Palomitas, +and Sonora affairs in general. Kit was careful to state that he has +been prospecting in the mountains and out of touch with ranch people, +and it must be understood that all Isidro could tell would be news to +a miner from the desert mountains. And he asked if General Rotil also +collected stock from the ranch of Soledad. + +Whereupon Isidro told him many things, and among them the wonder that +Soledad had been left alone--the saints only knew why! And Juan +Gonsalvo, the foreman at Soledad, had helped with the slave raid, and +was known in Palomitas where they took girls and women and men as +well, even men not young! Miguel, the major-domo, was taken with his +wife and two daughters, the other men were young. The curse of God +seemed striking Sonora. A new foreman was now at Soledad, Marto +Cavayso, a hard man and,--it was said, a soldier, but he evidently got +tired of fighting and was taking his rest by managing the horse herds +of Soledad. + +"Doesn't look like rest to me," observed Kit. "The Soledad trail looks +pretty well kicked into holes, with wagons, mules, and horsemen." + +Isidro volunteered his opinion that work of the devil was going +forward over there. + +"Juan Gonsalvo and El Aleman were stealing women in Sonora, and +driving them the south trail for a price," he stated. "But what think +you would be the price for a woman of emerald eyes and white skin +carried up from the south under chains, and a lock to the chain?" + +"I reckon you are dreaming the lock and chain part of it, Isidro," +returned Kit. "Only murderers travel like that." + +"_Si_, it is so. There at Soledad it is heard. A killing was done in +the south and Soledad is her prison. But she is beautiful, and the men +are casting lots as to whose she shall be when the guard is gone south +again to Don José Perez." + +"Ah! they are Don José's men, are they? Then the prisoner is guarded +by his orders?" + +"Who knows? They tell that she is a lost soul, and fought for a knife +to kill herself, and the padre makes prayers and says hell will be +hers if she does. Elena, who is cook, heard him say that word, and +Elena was once wife to my brother, and she is telling that to +Clodomiro who makes an errand to take her deer meat, and hear of the +strangers. He saw the woman, her bracelets are gold, and her eyes are +green. The padre calls her Doña Jocasta. I go now and give drink to +that burro and make him happy." + +"Jocasta, eh? Doña Jocasta!" repeated Kit in wondering meditation. +"Doesn't seem possible--but reckon it is, and there are no real +surprises in Sonora. Anything could, and does happen here." + +He remembered Pike telling the story of Jocasta one morning by their +camp fire in the desert. She was called by courtesy Señora Perez. He +had not heard her father's name, but he was a Spanish priest and her +mother an Indian half-breed girl--some little village in the sierras. +There were two daughters, and the younger was blond as a child of Old +Spain, Jocasta was the elder and raven dark of hair, a skin of deep +cream, and jewel-green eyes. Kit had heard three men, including +Isidro, speak of Doña Jocasta, and each had mentioned the wonderful +green eyes--no one ever seemed to forget them! + +Their magnetism had caught the attention of Don José,--a distinguished +and illustrious person in the eyes of the barefoot mountaineers. No +one knew what Jocasta thought of the exalted padrone of the wide +lands, whose very spurs were of gold, but she knew there was scarce +wealth enough in all the village to keep a candle burning on the +Virgin's shrine, and her feet had never known a shoe. The padre died +suddenly just as Don José was making a bargain with him for the girl, +so he swept Jocasta to his saddle with no bargain whatever except that +she might send back for Lucita, her little sister, and other men +envied Perez his good luck when they looked at Jocasta. For three +years she had been mistress of his house in Hermosillo, but never had +he taken her into the wilderness of Soledad,--it was a crude casket +for so rich a treasure. + +Kit steeped in the luxury of a square meal, fell asleep, thinking of +the green-eyed Doña Jocasta whom no man forgot. He would not connect a +brilliant bird of the mountain with that drooping figure he and Tula +had seen stumbling towards the portal of Soledad. And the statement of +Isidro that there had been a killing, and Doña Jocasta was a lost +soul, was most puzzling of all. In a queer confused dream the killing +was done by Tula, and Billie wore the belt of gold, and had green +eyes. And he wakened himself with the apparently hopeless effort of +convincing Billie he had never forgotten her despite the feminine +witcheries of Sonora. + +The shadows were growing long, and some Indian boys were jogging +across the far flats. He reached for his field glass and saw that one +of them had a deer across his saddle. Isidro explained that the boys +were planting corn in a far field, and often brought a deer when they +came in for more seed or provisions. They had a hut and _ramada_ at +the edge of the planted land six miles away. They were good boys, +Benito and Mariano Bravo, and seldom both left the fields at the same +time. He called to Valencia that there would be deer for supper, then +watched the two riders as they approached, and smiled as they +perceptibly slowed up their broncos at sight of the bearded stranger +on the rawhide cot against the wall. + +"See you!" he pointed out to Kit. "These are the days of changes. Each +day we looking for another enemy, maybe that army of the south, and +the boys they think that way too." + +The boys, on being hailed, came to the house with their offering, and +bunkered down in the shadow with a certain shy stolidity, until Kit +spoke, when they at once beamed recognition, and made jokes of his +beard as a blanket. + +But they had news to tell, great news, for a child of Miguel had +broken away from the slavers and had hidden in the mountains, and at +last had found her way back to Palomitas. She was very tired and very +poor in raiment, and the people were weeping over her. Miguel, her +father, was dead from a wound, and was under the ground, and of the +others who went on she could tell nothing, only that Conrad, the +German friend of Don José, was the man who covered his face and helped +take the women. Her sister Anita had recognized him, calling out his +name, and he had struck her with a quirt. + +The women left their work to listen to this, and to add the memories +of some of their friends who had hidden and luckily escaped. + +"That white man should be crucified and left for the vultures," said +the boy Benito. + +"No," said the soft voice of Valencia, "God was sacrificed, but this +man is a white Judas; the death of God is too good for that man. It +has been talked about. He will be found some place,--and the Judas +death will be his. The women are making prayers." + +"It will soon be Easter," said Isidro. + +Kit did not know what was meant by a "Judas" death, though he did know +many of the church legends had been turned by the Indians into strange +and lurid caricatures. He thought it would be interesting to see how +they could enlarge on the drama of Judas, but he made no comment, as a +direct question would turn the Indians thoughtful, and silence them. + +They all appeared alert for the return of Rotil. No one believed he +had retired utterly from the region without demanding tribute from +Soledad. It was generally suspected that Perez received and held +munitions for use against the revolutionists though no one knew where +they were hidden. There were Indian tales of underground tunnels of +Soledad Mission for retreat in the old days in case of hostile +attacks, and the Soledad ranch house was built over part of that +foundation. No one at Soledad knew the entrance except Perez himself, +though it was surmised that Juan Gonsalvo had known, and had been the +one to store the mule loads and wagon loads of freight shipped over +the border before Miguel Herrara was caught at the work from the +American side. Perez was a careful man, and not more than one man was +trusted at one time. That man seemed marked by the angels for +accident, for something had always ended him, and it was no good +fortune to be a favorite of Don José--Doña Jocasta was learning that! + +Thus the gossip and surmise went on around Rhodes for his brief hour +of rest and readjustment. He encouraged the expression of opinion from +every source, for he had the job ahead of him to get three hundred +pounds of gold across the border and through a region where every +burro was liable to examination by some of the warring factions. It +behooved him to consider every tendency of the genus homo with which +he came in contact. Also the bonds between them,--especially the +bonds, since the various groups were much of a sameness, and only +"good" or "bad" according to their affiliations. Simple Benito and his +brother, and soft-voiced motherly Valencia who could conceive a worse +death for the German Judas than crucifixion, were typical of the +primitive people of desert and sierra. + +"How many head of stock think you still ranges Mesa Blanca?" he asked +Isidro, who confessed that he no longer rode abroad or kept tally, +but Clodomiro would know, and would be in to supper. Benito and +Mariano told of one stallion and a dozen mares beyond the hills, and a +spring near their fields had been muddied the day before by a bunch of +cows and calves, they thought perhaps twenty, and they had seen three +mules with the Mesa Blanca brand when they were getting wood. + +"Three mules, eh? Well, I may need those mules and the favor will be +to me if you keep them in sight," he said addressing the boys. "I am +to round up what I can and remove them after Señor Whitely, together +with other belongings." + +"Others, señor?" asked Isidro. + +Rhodes took the letter from his pocket, and perused it as if to +refresh his memory. + +"The old Spanish chest is to go if possible, and other things of Mrs. +Whitely's," he said. "I will speak of these to your wife if the plan +can carry, but there is chance of troops from the south and--who +knows?--we may be caught between the two armies and ground as meal on +a _metate_." + +He thus avoided all detail as to the loads the pack animals were to +carry, and the written word was a safe mystery to the Indian. He was +making no definite plans, but was learning all possibilities with a +mind prepared to take advantage of the most promising. + +Thus the late afternoon wore on in apparent restful idleness after the +hard trail. The boys secured their little allowance of beans and salt, +and corn for planting, but lingered after the good supper of Valencia, +a holiday feast compared with their own sketchy culinary performance +in the _jacal_ of the far fields. They scanned the trail towards +Palomitas, and then the way down the far western valley, evidently +loath to leave until their friend Clodomiro should arrive, and Isidro +expected him before sunset. + +But he came later from towards Soledad, a tall lad with fluttering +ribbands of pink and green from his banda and his elbows, and a girdle +of yellow fluttering fringed ends to the breeze,--all the frank +insignia of a youth in the market for marriage. He suggested a gay +graceful bird as he rode rapidly in the long lope of the range. His +boy friends of the planted fields went out to meet him at the corral, +and look after his horse while he went in to supper. He halted to +greet them, and then walked soberly across the plaza where pepper +trees and great white alisos trailed dusk shadows in the early +starlight. + +"What _reata_ held you?" asked Isidro. "Has Soledad grown a place for +comradeship?" + +"No, señor," said the lad passing into the dining room where two +candles gave him light in the old adobe room, "it is comradeship we do +not need, but it is coming to us." + +He seated himself on the wooden bench and his grandmother helped him +from a smoking plate of venison. He looked tired and troubled, and he +had not even taken note that a stranger was beside Isidro in the +shadows. + +"What nettle stings you, boy?" asked his grandfather sarcastically, +and at that he looked up and rose to his feet at sight of Rhodes. + +"Your pardon, señor, I stumbled past like a bat blind in the light," +he muttered, and as he met Kit's eyes and recognized him his face lit +up and his white teeth gleamed in a smile. + +"The saints are in it that you are here again, señor!" he exclaimed, +"and you came on this day when most needed." + +"Eat and then tell your meaning," said Isidro, but Clodomiro glanced +toward the kitchen, and then listened for the other boys. They were +laughing down at the corral. Clodomiro's horse had thrown one of +them. + +"With your permission, grandfather, talk first," he said and the two +men moved to the bench opposite, leaning over towards him as his voice +was lowered. + +"Today Marto Cavayso sent for me, he is foreman over there, and +strange things are going forward. He has heard that General Rotil +stripped Mesa Blanca and that all white people are gone from it. He +wants this house and will pay us well to open the door. It is for the +woman. They have played a game for her, and he has won, but she is a +wild woman when he goes near her, and his plan is to steal her out at +night and hide her from the others. So he wants this house. He offered +me a good gun. He offers us the protection of Don José Perez." + +"But--why--that is not credible," protested Kit. "He could not count +on protection from Perez if he stole the woman whom many call Señora +Perez, for that is what they did call Doña Jocasta in Hermosillo." + +"Maybe so," assented Clodomiro stolidly, "but now he is to be the +_esposo_ of a Doña Dolores who is the child of General Terain, so +Marto says. Well, this Doña Jocasta has done some killing, and Don +José does not give her to prison. He sends her to the desert that she +brings him no disgrace; and if another man takes her or sinks her in +the quicksands then that man will be helping Don José. That is how it +is. Marto says the woman has bewitched him, and he is crazy about her. +Some of the other men, will take her, if not him." + +Kit exchanged a long look with the old Indian. + +"The house is yours, señor," said Isidro. "By the word of Señor +Whitely, you are manager of Mesa Blanca." + +"Many thanks," replied Kit, and sat with his elbows on the table and +his hands over his eyes, thinking--thinking of the task he had set +himself in Sonora, and the new turn of the wheel of fortune. + +"You say the lady is a prisoner?" he asked. + +"Sure," returned Clodomiro promptly. "She broke loose coming through a +little pueblo and ran to the church. She found the priest and told him +things, so they also take that priest! If they let him go he will +talk, and Don José wanting no talk now of this woman. That priest is +well cared for, but not let go away. After awhile, maybe so." + +"She is bright, and her father was a priest," mused Kit. "So there is +three chances out of four that she can read and write,--a little +anyway. Could you get a letter to her?" + +"Elena could." + +Kit got up, took one of the candles from the table and walked through +the rooms surrounding the patio. Some of them had wooden bars in the +windows, but others had iron grating, and he examined these +carefully. + +"There are two rooms fit for perfectly good jails," he decided, "so I +vote we give this bewitched Don Marto the open door. How many guns can +we muster?" + +"He promised to give me one, and ammunition." + +"Well, you get it! Get two if you can, but at least get plenty of +ammunition. Isidro, will your wife be brave and willing to help?" + +The old Indian nodded his head vigorously and smiled. Evidently only a +stranger would ask if his Valencia could be brave! + +The two brothers came in, and conversation was more guarded until +Clodomiro had finished his supper, and gone a little ways home with +them to repay them the long wait for comradeship. + +When he came back Kit had his plans fairly settled, and had a brief +note written to Señora Jocasta Perez, as follows: + + HONORED SEÑORA: + + One chance of safety is yours. Let yourself be persuaded to leave + Soledad with Marto. You will be rescued from him by + + AN AMERICAN. + +"I reckon that will do the trick," decided Kit. "I feel like a +blooming Robin Hood without the merry men,--but the Indians will play +safe, even if they are not merry. When can you get this to Elena?" + +"In time of breakfast," said Clodomiro promptly. "I go tonight, and +tomorrow night he steals that woman. Maybe Elena helps." + +"You take Elena a present from me to encourage that help," suggested +Kit, and he poured a little of the gold from his belt on the paper. +"Also there is the same for you when the lady comes safe. It is best +that you make willing offer of your service in all ways so that he +calls on none of his own men for help." + +"As you say, señor," assented Clodomiro, "and that will march well +with his desires, for to keep the others from knowing is the principal +thing. She has beauty like a lily in the shade." + +"He tells you that?" asked Kit quizzically, but the boy shook his +head. + +"My own eyes looked on her. She is truly of the beauty of the holy +pictures of the saints in the chapel, but Marto says she is a witch, +and has him enchanted;--also that evil is very strong in her. I do not +know." + +"Well, cross your fingers and tackle the job," suggested Kit. "Get +what sleep you can, for you may not get much tomorrow night. It is the +work of a brave man you are going to do, and your pay will be a man's +pay." + +The eyes of the Indian boy glowed with pleasure. + +"At your service, señor. I will do this thing or I will not see Mesa +Blanca again." + +Kit looked after Clodomiro and rolled another cigarette before turning +in to sleep. + +"When all's said and done, I may be the chief goat of this dame +adventure," he told himself in derision. "Maybe my own fingers need +crossing." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +A WOMAN OF EMERALD EYES + + +At the first break of dawn, Rhodes was up, and without waiting for +breakfast walked over to the rancherias of Palomitas to see Tula. + +She was with some little girls and old women carrying water from the +well as stolidly as though adventure had never stalked across her +path. A whole garment had been given her instead of the tatter of rags +in which she had returned to the little Indian pueblo. She replied +briefly to his queries regarding her welfare, and when he asked where +she was living, she accompanied him to an old adobe where there were +two other motherless children--victims of the raiders. + +An old, half-blind woman stirred meal into a kettle of porridge, and +to her Kit addressed himself. + +"A blessing will be on your house, but you have too many to feed +here," he said "and the child of Miguel should go to the ranch house +of Mesa Blanca. The wife of Isidro is a good woman and will give her +care." + +"Yes, señor, she is a good woman," agreed the old Indian. "Also it may +be a safe house for a maiden, who knows? Here it is not safe; other +raiders may come." + +"That is true. Send her after she has eaten." + +He then sought out one of the older men to learn who could be counted +on to round up the stray cattle of the ranges. After that he went at +once back to the ranch house, and did not even speak to Tula again. +There was nothing to indicate that she was the principal object of his +visit, or that she had acquired a guardian who was taking his job +seriously. + +Later in the day she was brought to Mesa Blanca by an elderly Indian +woman of her mother's clan, and settled in the quiet Indian manner in +the new dwelling place. Valencia was full of pity for the girl of few +years who had yet known the hard trail, and had mourned alone for her +dead. + +There was a sort of suppressed bustle about _la casa de Mesa Blanca_ +that day, dainties of cookery prepared with difficulty from the +diminished stores, and the rooms of the iron bars sprinkled and swept, +and pillows of wondrous drawnwork decorated the more pretentious bed. +To Tula it was more of magnificence than she had ever seen in her +brief life, and the many rooms in one dwelling was a wonder. She would +stand staring across the patio and into the various doorways through +which she hesitated to pass. She for whom the wide silences of the +desert held few terrors, hesitated to linger alone in the shadows of +the circling walls. Kit noted that when each little task was finished +for Valencia, she would go outside in the sunlight where she had the +familiar ranges and far blue mountains in sight. + +"Here it makes much trouble only to live in a house," she said +pointing to the needlework on a table cover. "The bowls of food will +make that dirty in one eating, and then what? Women in fine houses +are only as mares in time of thrashing the grain--no end and no +beginning to the work,--they only tread their circle." + +"Right you are, sister," agreed Kit, "they do make a lot of whirligig +work for themselves, all the same as your grandmothers painting +pottery that smash like eggshells. But life here isn't all play at +that, and there may be something doing before sleep time tonight. I +went after you so I would have a comrade I knew would stick." + +She only gazed at him without question. + +"You remember, Tula, the woman led by the padre at Soledad?" + +She nodded silently. + +"It may be that woman is captive to the same men who took your +people," he said slowly watching her, "and it may be we can save +her." + +"May it also be that we can catch the man?" she asked, and her eyes +half closed, peered up at him in curious intensity. "Can that be, O +friend?" + +"Some day it must surely be, Tula." + +"One day it must be,--one day, and prayers are making all the times +for that day," she insisted stolidly. "The old women are talking, and +for that day they want him." + +"What day, Tula?" + +"The Judas day." + +Kit Rhodes felt a curious creepy sensation of being near an unseen +danger, some sleeping serpent basking in the sun, harmless until +aroused for attack. He thought of the gentle domestic Valencia, and +now this child, both centered on one thought--to sacrifice a traitor +on the day of Judas! + +"Little girls should make helpful prayers," he ventured rather lamely, +"not vengeance prayers." + +"I was the one to make cry of a woman, when my father went under the +earth," she said. It was her only expression of the fact that she had +borne a woman's share of all their joint toil in the desert,--and he +caught her by the shoulder, as she turned away. + +"Why, Kid Cleopatra, it isn't a woman's work you've done at all. It's +a man's job you've held down and held level," he declared heartily. +"That's why I am counting on you now. I need eyes to watch when I have +to be in other places." + +"I watch," she agreed, "I watch for you, but maybe I make my own +prayers also;--all the time prayers." + +"Make one for a straight trail to the border, and all sentries +asleep!" he suggested. "We have a pile of yellow rock to get across, +to say nothing of our latest puzzling prospect." + +As the day wore on the latest "prospect" presented many complications +to the imagination, and he tramped the corridors of Mesa Blanca +wondering why he had seen but one side of the question the night +before, for in the broad light of day there seemed a dozen, and all +leading to trouble! That emerald-eyed daughter of a renegade priest +had proven a host in herself when it came to breeding trouble. She +certainly had been unlucky. + +"Well, it might be worse," he confided to Bunting out in the corral. +"Cap Pike might have tagged along to discourse on the general +tomfoolery of a partner who picks up a damsel in distress at every +fork of the trail. Not that he'd be far wrong at that, Baby. If any +hombre wanted to catch me in a bear trap he'd only need to bait it +with a skirt." + +Baby Bunting nodded sagaciously, and nuzzled after Kit who was +cleaning up the best looking saddle horse brought in from the Indian +herd. It was a scraggy sorrel with twitchy ears and wicked eyes, but +it looked tough as a mountain buck. Kit knew he should need two like +that for the northern trail, and had hopes that the bewitched Marto +Cavayso, whoever he was, would furnish another. + +He went steadily about his preparations for the border trail, just as +if the addition of an enchantress with green-jewel eyes was an every +day bit of good fortune expected in every outfit, but as the desert +ranges flamed rose and mauve in the lowering sun there was a restless +expectancy at the ranch house, bolts and locks and firearms were given +final inspection. Even at the best it was a scantily manned fort for +defense in case Mario's companions at dice should question his winning +and endeavor to capture the stake. + +"I shall go part way on the Soledad trail and wait what happens," he +told Isidro. "I will remain at a distance unless Clodomiro needs me. +There is no telling what tricks this Cavayso may have up his sleeve." + +"I was thinking that same thought," said the old Indian. "The men of +Perez are not trusted long, even by Perez. When it is a woman, they +are not trusted even in sight! Go with God on the trail." + +The ugly young sorrel ran tirelessly the first half of the way, just +enough to prove his wind. Then they entered a cañon where scrub +cottonwoods and greasebush gathered moisture enough for scant growth +among the boulders worn out of the cliffs by erosion. It was the +safest place to wait, as it was also the most likely place for +treachery if any was intended to Clodomiro. At either end of the pass +lay open range and brown desert, with only far patches of oasis where +a well was found, or a sunken river marked a green pasture in some +valley. + +When he wrote the note he had not thought of danger to Clodomiro, +regarding him only as a fearless messenger, but if the boy should +prove an incumbrance to Cavayso after they were free of Soledad, that +might prove another matter, and as old Isidro had stated, no one +trusted a Perez man when a woman was in question! + +He dismounted to listen and seek safe shadow, for the dusk had come, +and desert stars swung like brilliant lamps in the night sky, and the +white rocks served as clear background for any moving body. + +The plan was, if possible, to get the woman out with Clodomiro while +the men were at supper. The _manta_ of Elena could cover her, and if +she could walk with a water jar to the far well as any Indian woman +would walk, and a horse hid in the willows there----! + +It had been well thought out, and if nothing had interfered they +should have reached the cañon an hour earlier. If Clodomiro had failed +it might be a serious matter, and Kit Rhodes had some anxious moments +for the stolen woman while dusk descended on the cañon. + +He listened for the beat of horse hoofs, but what he heard first was a +shot, and a woman's scream, and then the walls of the cañon echoed the +tumult of horses racing towards him in flight. + +He recognized Clodomiro by the bare head and banda, and a woman bent +low beside him, her _manta_ flapping like the wings of a great bird as +her horse leaped forward beside the Indian boy. + +Back of them galloped a man who slowed up and shot backward at the +foremost of a pursuing band. + +He missed, and the fire was returned, evidently with some effect, for +the first marksman grunted and cursed, and Kit heard the clatter of +his gun as it fell from his hand. He leaned forward and spurred his +horse to outrun the pursuers. He was evidently Marto. + +Kit had a mental vision of fighting Marto alone for the woman at Mesa +Blanca, or fighting with the entire band and decided to halt the +leader of the pursuers and gain that much time at least for the woman +and Clodomiro. + +He had mounted at the first sound of the runaways, and crouching low +in the saddle, hid back of the thick green of a dwarfed mesquite, and +as the leader came into range against the white rock well he aimed low +and touched the trigger. + +The horse leaped up and the rider slid off as the animal sunk to the +ground. Kit guided his mount carefully along shadowed places into the +road expecting each instant a shot from the man on the ground. + +But it did not come, and he gained the trail before the other pursuers +rounded the bend of the cañon. The sound of their hoofs would deafen +them to his, and once on the trail he gave the sorrel the rein, and +the wild thing went down the gully like an arrow from a bow. + +He was more than a little puzzled at the silence back of him. The +going down of the one man and horse had evidently checked all +pursuit. Relieved though he was at the fact, he realized it was not a +natural condition of affairs, and called for explanation. + +The other three riders were a half mile ahead and he had no idea of +joining them on the trail. It occurred to him there was a possible +chance of taking a short cut over the point of the mesa and beating +them to the home ranch. There was an even chance that the rougher +trail would offer difficulties in the dark, but that was up to the +sorrel and was worth the trial. + +The bronco took the mesa walls like a cat, climbed and staggered up, +slid and tumbled down and crossed the level intervening space to the +corral as the first sound of the others came beating across the +sands. + +A dark little figure arose by the corral bars and reached for the +horse as he slipped from the saddle. + +"Quickly, Tulita!" he said, stripping saddle and bridle from its back, +"one instant only to make ourselves as still as shadows under the +walls of the house." + +Fast as he ran, she kept pace with him to the corridor where Isidro +waited. + +"All is well," he said briefly to the old man. "Clodomiro comes safe +with the señora, and the man who would steal her was shot and lost his +gun. All has gone very well." + +"Thanks to God!" said the old Indian. "The stealing of women has ever +been a danger near, but luck comes well to you, señor, and it is good +to be under the protection of you." + +"Open the door and show a light of welcome," said Kit. "Call your wife +and let all be as planned by us. I will be in the shadows, and a good +gun for safety of the woman if needed, but all will work well, as you +will see." + +The three riders came up to the portal before dismounting, and +Valencia went forward, while Isidro held high a blazing torch, and +Clodomiro dismounted quickly, and offered help to the woman. + +"My grandmother has all for your comfort, señora," he said, "will it +please you to descend?" + +The man swung from the saddle, awkwardly nursing his right arm. + +"Yes this is a safe place, Doña Jocasta," he declared. "It is all well +arranged. With your permission I may assist you." + +He offered his left hand, but she looked from him to Valencia, and +then to Clodomiro. + +"You are young to be a stealer of women;--the saints send you a whiter +road!" she said. "And you may help me, for my shoulder has a hurt from +that first shot of the comrade of this man." + +"No, señora," stated her captor, "the evil shot came from no comrade +of mine. They did not follow us, those bandits--accursed be their +names! They were hid in the cañoncita and jumped our trail. But have +no fear, Doña Jocasta, they are left behind, and it will be my +pleasure to nurse the wounds they have made." + +"Be occupied with your own," she suggested pointing to his hand from +which blood still dripped, "and you, mother, can show me the new +prison. It can be no worse than the others." + +"Better, much better, little dove," said Marto, who followed after +the two women, and glanced over their shoulders into the guest chamber +of the iron bars, "it is a bird cage of the finest, and a nest for +harmonies." + +Then to Valencia he turned with authority, "When you have made the +señorita comfortable, bring the key of the door to me." + +"_Si_, señor," said Valencia bending low, and even as the prisoner +entered the room, she changed the key to the outside of the door. +Marto nodded his approval and turned away. + +"Now this shirt off, and a basin of water and a bandage," he ordered +Isidro. "It is not much, and it still bleeds." + +"True, it does, señor, and the room ordered for you has already the +water and a clean shirt on the pillow. Clodomiro, go you for a +bandage, and fetch wine to take dust out of the throat! This way, +señor,--and may you be at home in your own house!" + +Unsuspecting, the amorous Marto followed the old man into the room +prepared. He grunted contemptuous satisfaction at evidences of comfort +extending to lace curtains hanging white and full over the one +window. + +"It is the time for a shirt of such cleanness," he observed, with a +grin. "_Jesusita!_ but the sleeve sticks to me! Cut it off, and be +quick to make me over into a bridegroom." + +The old man did as he was bidden, and when Clodomiro brought in a +woven tray covered with a napkin from which a bottle of wine was +discernible, Marto grinned at him. + +"It is a soft nest you found for me, boy," he said appreciatively, +"and when I am capitan I will make you lieutenant." + +"Thanks to you, señor, and hasten the day!" + +Clodomiro assisted his grandfather, and stood aside at the door +respectfully as the old man passed out with his primitive supply of +salves and antiseptics, and only when all need of caution was ended +the boy smiled at the would-be Lothario, and the smile held a subtle +mockery as he murmured, "The saints send you a good night's sleep, +señor, and a waking to health--and clearer sight!" + +"Hell and its blazes to you! why do you grin?" demanded the other +setting down the bottle from which he had taken a long and grateful +drink, but quick as a cat the boy pulled the door shut, and slipped +the bolt on the outside, and laughed aloud. + +"Not this night will you be bridegroom for another man's wife, señor!" +he called. "Also it is better that you put curb on your curses,--for +the lady has a mind for a quiet night of sleep." + +Marto rushed to the curtained window only to find iron bars and the +glint of a gun barrel. Isidro held the gun, and admonished the +storming captive with the gentle fatalism of the Indian. + +"It is done under orders of the major-domo, señor. There is no other +way. If your words are hard or rough to the ears of the lady, there is +a bullet for you, and a hidden place for your grave. This is the only +word to you, señor. It is given me to say." + +"But--Gods, saints, and devils--hearken you to me!" stormed the man. +"This is a fool's joke! It can't go on! I must be back at sunrise--_I +must!_" + +"You will see many suns rise through these bars if the padrone so +pleases," murmured Isidro gently. "That is not for us to decide." + +"To hottest hell with your padrone and you! Bring him here to listen +to me. This is no affair of a man and a woman,--curse her witch eyes +and their green fires! There is work afoot,--big work, and I must get +back to Soledad. You know what goes over the trail to Soledad,--every +Indian knows! It is the cache of ammunition with which to save the +peon and Indian slave,--you know that! You know the revolutionists +must get it to win in Sonora. A trap is set for tomorrow, a big trap! +I must be there to help spring it. To you there will be riches and +safety all your life for my freedom--on the cross I will swear that. +I----" + +"Señor, nothing is in my power, and of your traps I know nothing. I am +told you set a trap for a lady who is in grief and your own feet were +caught in it. That is all I know of traps," said Isidro. + +Kit patted the old man on the shoulder for cleverness, even while he +wondered at the ravings of the would-be abductor. Then he crept nearer +the window where he could see the face of the prisoner clearly, and +without the overshadowing hat he had worn on entrance. The face gave +him something to think about, for it was that of one of the men who +had ridden up to the Yaqui spring the day he had found Tula and Miguel +in the desert. How should this rebel who rode on secret trails with +Ramon Rotil be head man at Soledad for Rotil's enemy? And what was the +trap? + +"Look well at that man, Isidro," he whispered, "and tell me if such a +man rode here to Mesa Blanca with General Rotil." + +"No such man was here, señor, but this man was foreman at Soledad +before the Deliverer came over the eastern range to Mesa Blanca. Also +the general and Don José Perez are known as enemies;--the friend of +one cannot be the friend of another." + +"True enough, Isidro, but that does not help me to understand the trap +set. Call your wife and learn if I can see the Doña Jocasta." + +Tula had crept up beside them, and touched him on the arm. + +"She asks for you, and sadness is with her very much. She watches us +in fear, and cannot believe that the door is open for her." + +"If that is her only trouble we can clear it away for her, _pronto_," +he stated, and they entered the patio. + +"It is not her only trouble, but of the other she does not speak. +Valencia weeps to look at her." + +"Heavens! Is she as bad looking as that?" + +"No, it is another reason," stated the girl stolidly. "She is a caged +humming bird, and her wings have broken." + +Kit Rhodes never forgot that first picture of their kidnaped guest, +for he agreed with Clodomiro who saw in her the living representation +of old biblical saints. + +The likeness was strengthened by the half Moorish drapery over her +head, a black mantilla which, at sound of a man's step, she hurriedly +drew across the lower part of her face. Her left arm and shoulder was +bare, and Valencia bent over her with a strip of old linen for +bandage, but the eyes of Doña Jocasta were turned half shrinking, half +appraising to the strange Americano. It was plain to her that +conquering men were merely the owners of women. + +"It is good you come, señor," said Valencia. "Here is a wound and the +bullet under the skin. I have waited for Isidro to help but he is slow +on the way." + +"He is busy otherwise, but I will call him unless my own help will +serve here. That is for the señora to say." + +The eyes of the girl,--she was not more,--never left his face, and +above the lace scarf she peered at him as through a mask. + +"It is you who sent messenger to save an unhappy one you did not know? +You are the Americano of the letter?" + +"At your service, señora. May that service begin now?" + +"It began when that letter was written, and this room made ready," she +said. "And if you can find the bullet it will end the unhappiness of +this good woman. She weeps for the little bit of lead. It should have +struck a heart instead of a shoulder." + +"Ah, señora!" lamented Valencia, "weep like a woman over sorrows. It +is a better way than to mock." + +"God knows it is not for me to mock!" breathed the soft voice +bitterly. "And if the señor will lend you his aid, I will again be in +his debt." + +Without further words Kit approached, and Valencia drew the cover from +the shoulder and indicated where the ball could be felt. + +"I cannot hold the shoulder and press the flesh there without making +much pain, too much," stated Valencia, "but it must come out, or there +will be trouble." + +"Sure there will," asserted Kit, "and if you or Tula will hold the +arm, and Doña Jocasta will pardon me----" + +He took the white shoulder in his two hands and gently traced the +direction of the bullet. It had struck in the back and slanted along +the shoulder blade. It was evidently fired from a distance and little +force left. Marto had been much nearer the pursuer, and his was a +clean cut wound through the upper arm. + +The girl turned chalky white as he began slowly to press the bullet +backward along its trail, but she uttered no sound, only a deep intake +of breath that was half a sob, and the cold moisture of sickening pain +stood in beads on her face. + +All of the little barriers with a stranger were forgotten, and the +shielding scarf fell away from her face and bosom, and even with the +shadowed emerald eyes closed, Kit Rhodes thought her the most perfect +thing in beauty he had ever seen. + +He hated himself for the pain he was forcing on her as he steadily +followed the bullet upward and upward until it lay in his hand. + +She did not faint, as he feared she might, but fell back in the chair, +while Valencia busied herself with the ointment and bandage, and Tula, +at a word from Kit, poured her a cup of wine. + +"Drink," he said, "if only a little, señora. Your strength has served +you well, but it needs help now." + +She swallowed a little of the wine, and drew the scarf about her, and +after a little opened her eyes and looked at him. He smiled at her +approvingly, and offered her the bullet. + +"It may be you will want it to go on some shrine to a patron saint, +señora," he suggested, but she did not take it, only looked at him +steadily with those wonderful eyes, green with black lashes, shining +out of her marble Madonna-like face. + +"My patron saint traveled the trail with you, Señor Americano, and the +bullet is witness. Let me see it." + +He gave it into her open hand where she balanced it thoughtfully. + +"So near the mark, yet went aside," she murmured. "Could that mean +there is yet any use left in the world for me?" + +"Beauty has its own use in the world, señora; that is why rose gardens +are planted." + +"True, señor, though I belong no more to the gardens;--no, not to +gardens, but to the desert. Neither have I place nor power today, and +I may never have, but I give back to you this witness of your great +favor. If a day comes when I, Jocasta, can give favor in return, bring +or send this witness of the ride tonight. I will redeem it." + +"The favor is to me, and calls for no redemption," said Kit awkward at +the regal poise of her, and enchanted by the languorous glance and +movement of her. Even the reaching out of her hand made him think of +Tula's words, 'a humming bird,' if one could imagine such a +jewel-winged thing weighted down with black folds of mourning. + +"A caged humming bird with broken wings!" and that memory brought +another thought, and he fumbled the bullet, and gave the first steady +look into those emerald, side-glancing eyes. + +"But--there is a compact I should appreciate if Doña Jocasta will do +me the favor,--and it is that she sets value on the life that is now +her very own, and, that she forgets not to cherish it." + +"Ah-h!" She looked up at him piteously a moment, and then the long +lashes hid her eyes, and her head was bent low. "Sinful and without +shame have I been! and they have told you of the knife I tried to +use--here!" + +She touched her breast with her slender ring-laden hand, and her voice +turned mocking. + +"But you see, Señor Americano, even Death will not welcome me, and +neither steel nor lead will serve me!" + +"Life will serve you better, señora." + +"Not yet has it done so, and I am a woman--old--old! I am twenty, +señor, and refused of Death! Jocasta Benicia they named me. Jocasta +Perdida it should have been to fit the soul of me, so why should I +promise a man whom I do not know that I will cherish my life when I +would not promise a padre? Answer me that, señor whose name has not +been told me!" + +"But you will promise, señora," insisted Kit, smiling a little, though +thrilled by the sadness of life's end at twenty, "and as for names, if +you are Doña Perdida I may surely name myself Don Esperenzo, for I +have not only hope, but conviction, that life is worth living!" + +"To a man, yes, and Mexico is a man's land." + +"Ay, it must be yours as well,--beautiful that thou art!" murmured +Valencia adoringly. "You should not give yourself a name of sadness, +for this is our Señor El Pajarito, who is both gay and of honesty. +He,--with God,--is your protection, and harm shall not be yours." + +Doña Jocasta reached out and touched kindly the bent head of the +Indian woman. + +"As you will, mother. With hope and a singer for a shield, even a +prison would not be so bad, El Pajarito, eh? Do you make songs--or +sing them, señor?" + +"Neither,--I am only a lucky bluff. My old partner and I used to sing +fool things to the mules, and as we could out-bray the burros my Indio +friends are kind and call it a singing;--as easy as that is it to get +credit for talent in this beneficent land of yours! But--the compact, +señora?" + +Her brows lifted wearily, yet the hint of a smile was in her eyes. + +"Yes, since you ask so small a thing, it is yours. Jocasta makes +compact with you; give me a wish that the life is worth it." + +"Sure I will," said Kit holding out his hand, but she shrunk +perceptibly, and her hand crept out of sight in the black draperies. + +"You have not, perhaps, ever sent a soul to God without absolution?" +she asked in a breathless hushed sort of voice. "No señor, the look of +you tells me you have not been so unpardonable. Is it not so?" + +"Why, yes," returned Kit, "it hasn't been a habit with me to start +anyone on the angels' flight without giving him time to bless himself, +but even at that----" + +"No, no!" as he took a step nearer. "The compact is ours without +handclasp. The hand of Jocasta is the hand of the black glove, +señor." + +He looked from her to the two Indians, the old woman kneeling beside +Jocasta and crossing herself, and Tula, erect and slender against the +adobe wall, watching him stolidly. There was no light on the subject +from either of them. + +"Pardon, I'm but a clumsy Americano, not wise to your meanings," he +ventured, "and beautiful hands look better without gloves of any +color." + +"It may be so, yet I have heard that no matter how handsome a headsman +may be, he wears a black mask, and hands are not stretched out to +touch his." + +"Señora!" + +"Señor, we arrive at nothing when making speech of me," she said with +a little sigh. "Our ride was hard, and rest is best for all of us. Our +friend here tells me there is supper, and if you will eat with me, we +will know more of how all this has come about. It is strange that you, +a lone Americano in this land, should plan this adventure like a +bandit, and steal not only the major-domo of Soledad, but the woman he +would steal!" + +"It was so simple that the matter is not worth words except as +concerns Clodomiro, who was the only one in danger." + +"Ah! if ever they had suspected him! You have not seen that band of +men, they are terrible! Of all the men of José Perez they are the +blackest hearts, and if it had not been for the poor padre----" + +"Tell me of him," said Kit who perceived she was willing enough to +speak plainly of all things except herself. "He is a good man?" + +"A blessing to me, señor!" she asserted earnestly as they were seated +at the table so carefully prepared by Valencia. "Look you! I broke +away from those animals and in a little mountain village,--such a one +as I was born in, señor!--I ran to the altar of the little chapel, and +that priest was a shield for me. Against all the men he spoke curses +if they touched me. Well, after that there was only one task to do, +and that was to carry him along. I think they wanted to kill him, and +had not the courage. And after all that I came away from Soledad +without saving him;--that was bad of me, very bad! I--I think I went +wild in the head when I saw the men play games of cards, and I to go +to the winner! Not even a knife for food would they give me, for they +knew----" + +She shuddered, and laid down quickly the knife she had lifted from +beside her plate, and glanced away when she found him regarding her. + +"It has been long weeks since I was trusted as you are trusting me +here," she continued quietly. "See! On my wrists were chains at +first." + +"And this Marto Cavayso did that?" demanded Kit as she showed her +scarred slender wrist over which Valencia had wept. + +"No, it was before Cavayso--he is a new man--so I think this was when +Conrad was first helping to plan me as an insane woman and have me put +secretly to prison, but some fear struck José Perez, and that plan +would not serve. In the dark of night I was half smothered in wraps +and put in an ox-cart of a countryman and hauled north out of the +city. Two men rode as guard. They chained me in the day and slept, +traveling only in the night until they met Cavayso and his men. After +that I remember little, I was so weary of life! One alcalde asked +about me and Cavayso said I was his wife who had run away with a gypsy +fiddler, and he was taking me home to my children. Of what use to +speak? A dozen men would have added their testimony to his, and had +sport in making other romance against me. They were sullen because +they thought I had jewels hid under my clothes, and Cavayso would not +let them search me. It has been hell in these hills of Sonora, Señor +Pajarito." + +"That is easy to understand," agreed Kit wondering at her endurance, +and wondering at the poise and beauty of her after such experience. +There was no trace of nervousness, or of tears, or self-pity. It was +as if all this of which she told had been a minor affair, dwarfed by +some tragic thing to which he had no key. + +"So, Conrad was in this plot against you?" he asked, and knew that +Tula, standing back of his chair had missed no word. "You mean the +German Conrad who is manager of Granados ranches across the border?" + +"Señor, I mean the beast whose trail is red with the blood of +innocence, and whose poison is sinking into the veins of Mexico like a +serpent, striking secretly, now here, now there, until the blood of +the land is black with that venom. Ay! I know, señor;--the earth is +acrawl with the German lizards creeping into the shining sun of +Mexico! This so excellent Don Adolf Conrad is only one, and José Perez +is his target--I am the one to know that! A year ago, and Don José was +a man, with faults perhaps; but who is perfect on this earth? Then +came Don Adolf riding south and is very great gentleman and makes +friends. His home in Hermosillo becomes little by little the house of +Perez, and little by little Perez goes on crooked paths. That is true! +First it was to buy a ship for coast trade, then selling rifles in +secret where they should not be sold, then--shame it is to tell--men +and women were sold and carried on that ship like cattle! Not rebels, +señor, not prisoners of battle,--but herdsmen and ranch people, poor +Indian farmers whom only devils would harm! Thus it was, señor, until +little by little Don Adolf knew so much that José Perez awoke to find +he had a master, and a strong one! It was not one man alone who caught +him in the net; it was the German comrades of Don Adolf who never +forgot their task, even when he was north in the States. They needed a +man of name in Hermosillo, and José Perez is now that man. When the +whip of the German cracks, he must jump to serve their will." + +"But José Perez is a strong man. Before this day he has wiped many a +man from his trail if the man made him trouble," ventured Kit. + +"You have right in that, señor, but I am telling you it is a wide net +they spread and in that net he is snared. Also his household is no +longer his own. The Indian house servants are gone, and outlaw +Japanese are there instead. That is true and their dress is the dress +of Indians. They are Japanese men of crimes, and German men gave aid +that they escape from justice in Japan. It is because they need such +men for German work in Mexico, men who have been taught German and +dare not turn rebel. Not an hour of the life of José Perez is free +from the eyes of a spy who is a man of crimes. And there are other +snares. They tell him that he is to be a governor by their +help;--that is a rich bait to float before the eyes of a man! His feet +are set on a trail made by Adolph Conrad,--He is trapped, and there is +no going back. Poison and shame and slavery and death have come upon +that trail like black mushrooms grown in a night, and what the end of +the trail will be is hid in the heart of God." + +"But your sympathy is with those women in slavery there in the south, +and not with the evil friend of José Perez?" asked Kit. + +"Can you doubt, señor? Am I not as truly a victim as they? I have not +worked under a whip, but there are other punishments--for a woman!" + +Her voice dropped almost to a whisper, and she rested her chin on her +hand, staring out into the shadows of the patio, oblivious of them +all. Tula gazed at her as if fascinated, and there was a difference in +her regard. That she was linked in hate against Conrad gave the Indian +girl common cause with the jewel-eyed woman whose beauty had been the +boast of a province. Kit noticed it and was vastly comforted. The +absolute stolidity of Tula had left him in doubt as to the outcome if +his little partner had disapproved of his fascinating protégée. He +knew the thing she wanted to know, and asked it. + +"Señora, the last band of Indian slaves from Sonora were driven from +the little pueblo of Palomitas at the edge of this ranch. And there +are sisters and mothers here with sick hearts over that raid. Can you +tell me where those women were sent?" + +"Which raid was that, and when?" asked Jocasta arousing herself from +some memory in which she had been submerged. "Pardon, señor, I am but +a doleful guest at supper, thinking too deeply of that which sent me +here. Your question?" + +He repeated it, and she strove to remember. + +"There were many, and no one was told whence they came. It was +supposed they were war prisoners who had to be fed, and were being +sent to grow their own maize. If it were the last band then it would +be the time Conrad had the wound in the face, here, like a knife +thrust, and that----" + +"That was the time," interrupted Kit eagerly. "If you can tell us +where those people were sent you will prove the best of blessings to +Mesa Blanca this night." + +She smiled sadly at that and looked from him to Tula, whom she +evidently noted for the first time. + +"It is long since the word of blessing has been given to Jocasta," she +said wistfully. "It would be a comfort to earn it in this house. But +that band was not sent away,--not far. Something went wrong with the +boat down the coast, I forgot what it was, but there was much trouble, +and the Indians were sent to a plantation of the General Terain until +the boat was ready. I do not know what plantation, except that Conrad +raged about it. He and Don José had a quarrel, very terrible! That +wound given to him by a woman made him very difficult; then the +quarrel ended by them drinking together too much. And after that many +things happened very fast, and--I was brought north." + +"And the Indians?" + +"Señor, I do not think anyone thought again of those Indians. They +are planting maize or cane somewhere along the Rio Sonora." + +Tula sank down weeping against the wall, while Valencia stroked her +hair and patted her. Doña Jocasta regarded her curiously. + +"To be young enough to weep like that over a sorrow!" she murmured +wistfully. "It is to envy her, and not mourn over her." + +"But this weeping is of joy," explained Valencia. "It is as the señor +says, a blessing has come with you over the hard road. This child was +also stolen, and was clever to escape. Her mother and her sister are +yet there in that place where the maize is planted. If the boat has +not taken them, then they also may get back. It is a hope!" + +"Poor little one! and now that I could make good use of power, it is +no longer mine," said Jocasta, looking at Kit regretfully. "A young +maid with courage to escape has earned the right to be given help." + +"She will be given it," he answered quietly, "and since your patience +has been great with my questions, I would ask more of this Cavayso we +have trapped tonight. He is raging of curious things there across the +patio. Isidro holds a gun on him that he subdue his shouts, and his +offer is of rich bribes for quick freedom. He is as mad to get back to +Soledad as he was to leave it, and he tells of a trap set there for +someone. It concerns ammunition for the revolutionists." + +"No, not for them, but for trade in the south," said Jocasta promptly. +"Yes, Soledad has long been the place for hiding of arms. It was the +task of Don Adolf to get them across the border, and then a man of +Don José finds a safe trail for them. Sometimes a German officer from +Tucson is of much help there in the north. I have heard Don José and +Conrad laugh about the so easily deceived Americanos,--your pardon, +señor!" + +"Oh, we are used to that," agreed Kit easily, "and it is quite true. +We have a whole flock of peace doves up there helping the Hohenzollern +game. What was the officer's name?" + +"A name difficult and long," she mused, striving to recall it. "But +that name was a secret, and another was used. He was known only as a +simple advocate--James, the name; I remember that for they told me it +was the English for Diego, which was amusing to me,--there is no sound +alike in them!" + +"That's true, there isn't," said Kit, who had no special interest in +any advocate named James. "But to get back to the man in the cell over +there and the ammunition, may I ask if he confided to you anything of +that place of storage? I mean Cavayso?" + +"No, señor; and for a reason of the best. He knows nothing, and all +his days and nights were spent searching secretly for the entrance to +that dungeon,--if it is a dungeon! He thought I should know, and made +threats against me because I would not tell. Myself, I think José +Perez tells no one that hiding place, not even Conrad, though Conrad +has long wanted it! I told Don José that if he told that he was as +good as a dead man, and I believe it. But now," and she shook her head +fatefully, "now he is sure to get it!" + +"But he swears he must get back to Soledad by sunrise for a trap is +set. A trap for whom?" persisted Kit. + +Doña Jocasta shook her head uncomprehendingly. + +"God forbid he should get free to put those wolves on my track; then +indeed I would need a knife, señor! He held them back from me on the +trail, but now he would not hold them back." + +"But the trap, señora?" repeated the puzzled Kit. "That man was in +earnest,--dead in earnest! He did not know I was listening, his words +were only for an Indian,--for Isidro. Who could he trap? Was he +expecting anyone at Soledad?" + +Doña Jocasta looked up with a little gasp of remembrance. + +"It is true, a courier did come two days ago from the south, and +Cavayso told me he meant to take me to the desert and hide me before +Don José arrived. Also more mules and wagons came in. And Elena +scolded about men who came to eat but not to work. Yes, they smoked, +and talked, and talked, and waited! I never thought of them except to +have a great fear. Yesterday after the lad brought me that letter I +had not one thought, but to count the hours, and watch the sun. But it +may be Cavayso told the truth, and that Don José was indeed coming. He +told me he had promised Perez to lose me in the Arroya Maldioso if in +no other way, and he had to manage that I never be seen again." + +"Arroya Maldioso?" repeated Kit, "I don't understand." + +"It is the great quicksand of Soledad, green things grow and blossom +there but no living thing can cross over. It is beautiful--that little +arroya, and very bad." + +"I had heard of it, but forgot," acknowledged Kit, "but that is not +the trap of which he is raving now. It is some other thing." + +Doña Jocasta did not know. She confessed that her mind was dark and +past thinking. The ways of Don José and Conrad were not easy for other +men of different lives to understand;--there was a great net of war +and scheming and barter, and Don José was snared in that net, and the +end no man could see! + +"Have you ever heard that Marto Cavayso was once a lieutenant of +General Rotil?" Kit asked. + +"The Deliverer!" she gasped, leaning forward and staring at him. A +deep flush went over her face and receded, leaving her as deathly pale +as when the bullet had been forced from the white shoulder. Her regard +was curious, for her brows were contracted and there was domination +and command in her eyes. "Why do you say this to me, señor? And why do +you think it?" + +Kit was astonished at the effect of his words, and quite as much +astonished to hear anyone of the Perez household refer to Rotil as +"the Deliverer." + +"Señora, if you saw him ride side by side with Rotil, drinking from +the same cup in the desert, would you not also think it?" + +Tula rose to her feet, and moved closer to Kit. + +"I too was seeing them together, señora," she said. "It was at the +Yaqui well; I drew the water, and they drank it. This man of the loud +curses is the man." + +Doña Jocasta covered her eyes with her hand, and she seemed shaken. No +one else spoke, and the silence was only broken by the muffled tones +of Marto in the cell, and the brief bark of Clodomiro's dog at the +corral. + +"God knows what may be moving forward," she said at last, "but there +is some terrible thing afoot. Take me to this man." + +"It may not be a pleasant thing to do," advised Kit. "This is a man's +game, señora, and his words might offend, for his rage is very great +against you." + +"Words!" she said with a note of disdain, and arose to her feet. She +swayed slightly, and Valencia steadied her, and begged her to wait +until morning, for her strength was gone and the night was late. + +"Peace, woman! Who of us is sure of a morning? This minute is all the +time that is ours, and--I must know." + +She leaned on Valencia as they crossed the patio, and Tula moved a +seat outside the door of Marto's room. Kit fastened a torch in the +holder of the brick pillar and opened the door without being seen, and +stood watching the prisoner. + +Marto Cavayso, who had been pleading with Isidro, whirled only to find +the barrel of another gun thrust through the carved grill in the top +of the door. + +"Isidro," said Kit, "this man is to answer questions of the señora. If +he is uncivil you can singe him with a bullet at your own will." + +"Many thanks, señor," returned Isidro promptly. "That is a pleasant +work to think of, for the talk of this shameless gentleman is poison +to the air." + +"You!" burst out Marto, pointing a hand at Jocasta in the corridor. +"You put witchcraft of hell on me, and wall me in here with an old +lunatic for guard, and now----" + +Bing! A bullet from Isidro's rifle whistled past Marto's ear and +buried itself in the adobe, scattering plaster and causing the +prisoner to crouch back in the corner. + +Jocasta regarded him as if waiting further speech, but none came. + +"That is better," she said. "No one wishes to do you harm, but you +need a lesson very badly. Now Marto Cavayso,--if that be your +name!--why did you carry me away? Was it your own doing, or were you +under orders of your General Rotil?" + +"I should have let the men have you," he muttered. "I was a bewitched +man, or you never would have traveled alive to see Soledad. Rotil? Do +not the handsome women everywhere offer him love and comradeship? +Would he risk a good man to steal a woman of whom José Perez is +tired?" + +"You are not the one to give judgment," said a strange voice outside +the barred window.--"That I did not send you to steal women is very +true, and the task I did send you for has been better done by other +men in your absence." + +Cavayso swore, and sat on the bed, his head in his hands. Outside the +window there were voices in friendly speech, that of Clodomiro very +clear as he told his grandfather the dogs did not bark but once, +because some of the Mesa Blanca boys were with the general, who was +wounded. + +Kit closed and bolted again the door of Cavayso, feeling that the +guardianship of beauty in Sonora involved a man in many awkward and +entangling situations. If it was indeed Rotil---- + +But a curious choking moan in the corridor caused him to turn quickly, +but not quickly enough. + +Doña Jocasta, who had been as a reed of steel against other dangers, +had risen to her feet as if for flight at sound of the voice, and she +crumpled down on the floor and lay, white as a dead woman, in a faint +so deep that even her heartbeat seemed stilled. + +Kit gathered her up, limp as a branch of willow, and preceded by Tula +with the torch, bore her back to the chamber prepared for her. +Valencia swept back the covers of the bed, and with many mutterings of +fear and ejaculations to the saints, proceeded to the work of +resuscitation. + +"To think that she came over that black road and held fast to a heart +of bravery,--and now at a word from the Deliverer, she falls dead in +fear! So it is with many who hear his name; yet he is not bad to his +friends. Every Indian in Sonora is knowing that," stated Valencia. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE HAWK OF THE SIERRAS + + +"That is what we get, Tula, by gathering beauty in distress into our +outfit," sighed Kit. "She seems good foundation for a civil war here. +Helen of Troy,--a lady of an eastern clan!--started a war on less, and +the cards are stacked against us if they start scrapping. When Mexican +gentry begin hostilities, the innocent bystander gets the worst of +it,--especially the Americano. So it is just as well the latest +Richard in the field does not know whose bullet hit him in the leg, +and brought his horse down." + +Tula, who since their entrance to the civilized surroundings of Mesa +Blanca, had apparently dropped all initiative, and was simply a little +Indian girl under orders, listened impassively to this curious +monologue. She evidently thought white people use many words for a +little meaning. + +"The Deliverer says will you graciously come?" she stated for the +second time. + +"Neither graciously, gracefully or gratefully, but I'll arrive," he +conceded. "His politeness sounds ominous. It is puzzling why I, a mere +trifle of an American ranch hand, should be given audience instead of +his distinguished lieutenant." + +"Isidro and Clodomiro are talking much with him, and the man Marto is +silent, needing no guard," said Tula. + +"Sure,--Rotil has the whole show buffaloed. Well, let's hope, child, +that he is not a mind reader, for we have need of all the ore we +brought out, and can't spare any for revolutionary subscriptions." + +Kit followed Tula into the _sala_ where a rawhide cot had been placed, +and stretched on it was the man of Yaqui Spring. + +One leg of his trousers was ripped up, and there was the odor of a +greasewood unguent in the room. Isidro was beside him, winding a +bandage below the knee. A yellow silk banda around the head of Rotil +was stained with red. + +But he had evidently been made comfortable, for he was rolling a +cigarette and was calling Isidro "doctor." Two former vaqueros of Mesa +Blanca were there, and they nodded recognition to Kit. Rotil regarded +him with a puzzled frown, and then remembered, and waved his hand in +salute. + +"Good day, señor, we meet again!" he said. "I am told that you are my +host and the friend of Señor Whitely. What is it you do here? Is it +now a prison, or a hospital for unfortunates?" + +"Only a hospital for you, General, and I trust a serviceable one," Kit +hastened to assure him. "More of comfort might have been yours had you +sent a courier to permit of preparation." + +"The service is of the best," and Rotil pointed to Isidro. "I've a +mind to take him along, old as he is! The boys told me he was the best +medico this side the range, and I believe it. As to courier," and he +grinned, "I think you had one, if you had read the message right." + +"The surprises of the night were confusing, and a simple man could not +dare prophesy what might follow," said Kit, who had drawn up a chair +and easily fell into Rotil's manner of jest. "But I fancy if that +courier had known who would follow after, he would have spent the +night by preference at Soledad." + +"Sure he would,--hell's fire shrivel him! That shot of his scraped a +bone for me, and put my horse out of business. For that reason we came +on quietly, and these good fellows listened at the window of Marto +before they carried me in. It is a good joke on me. My men rounded up +Perez and his German slaver at Soledad today--yesterday now!--and when +we rode up the little cañon to be in at the finish what did we see but +an escape with a woman? Some word had come my way of a Perez woman +there, and only one thought was with me, that the woman had helped +Perez out of the trap as quickly as he had ridden into it! After that +there was nothing to do but catch them again. No thought came to me +that Marto might be stealing a woman for himself, the fool! Perez made +better time than we figured on, and is a day ahead. Marto meant to +hide the woman and get back in time. It's a great joke that an +Americano took the woman from him. I hope she is worth the trouble," +and he smiled, lifting his brows questioningly. + +"So that was the 'trap' that Marto raved and stormed to get back to?" +remarked Kit. "I am still in the dark, though there are some glimmers +of light coming. If Marto knew of that trap it explains----" + +"There were three others of my men on the Soledad rancho, drawing pay +from Perez. It is the first time that fox came in when we could spread +the net tight. To get him at another place would not serve so well, +for if Soledad was the casket of our treasure, at Soledad we make a +three strike,--the cattle, the ammunition, and Perez there to show the +hiding place! It is the finish of four months' trailing, and is worth +the time, and but for Marto running loco over a girl, there would have +been a beautiful quiet finish at Soledad ranch house last night." + +"But, if your men have Perez----" + +"Like that!" and Rotil stretched out his open hand, and closed it +significantly, with a cruel smile in his black, swift-glancing eyes. +"This time there is no mistake. For over a week men and stout mules +have been going in;--it is a _conducta_ and it is to take the +ammunition. Well, señor, it is all well managed for me; also we have +much need of that ammunition for our own lads." + +"And it was done without a fight?" asked Kit. "I have heard that the +men picked for Soledad were not the gentlest band Señor Perez could +gather." + +"We had their number," said Rotil placidly. "Good men enough, but with +their cartridges doctored what could they do? I sent in two machine +guns, and they were not needed. A signal smoke went up to show me all +was well, and in another minute I heard the horses of Marto and his +girl. He must have started an hour before Perez arrived. It is a trick +of Don José's that no one can count on his engagements, but this time +every hill had its sentinels for his trail, not anything was left to +chance." + +"And your accident?" asked Kit politely. + +"Oh, I was setting my own guards at every pass when the runaway woman +and men caught my ear and we took a short cut down the little cañon to +head them off. I knew they would make for here, and that houses were +not plenty--" he smiled as if well satisfied with the knowledge. "So, +as this was a friendly house it would be a safe bet to keep on +coming." He blew rings of smoke from the cigarette, and chuckled. + +"The boys will think a quicksand has swallowed us, and no one will be +sleeping there at Soledad." + +"Is there anything I can do to be of service," asked Kit. "I have a +good room and a bed----" + +But the chuckling of Rotil broke into a frank laugh. + +"No, señor!" he said with humorous decision, watching Kit as he spoke, +"already I have been told of your great kindness in the giving of beds +and rooms of comfort. Why, with a house big enough, you could jail all +the district of Altar! Not my head for a noose!" + +Kit laughed awkwardly at the jest which was based on fact, but he met +the keen eyes of Rotil very squarely. + +"The Indians no doubt told you the reason the jail was needed?" he +said. "If a girl picks a man to take a trail with, that is her own +affair and not mine, but if a girl with chains on her wrists has to +watch men throwing dice for her, and is forced to go with the +winner--well--the man who would not help set her free needs a dose of +lead. That is our American way, and no doubt is yours, señor." + +"Sure! Let a woman pick her own, if she can find him!" agreed Rotil, +and then he grinned again as he looked at Kit. "And, señor, it is a +safe bet that this time she'll find him!--you are a good big mark, +not easily hidden." + +The other men smiled and nodded at the humor of their chief, and +regarded Kit with appreciative sympathy. It was most natural of course +for them to suppose that if he took a woman from Marto, he meant to +win her for himself. + +Kit smiled back at them, and shook his head. + +"No such luck for a poor vaquero," he confessed. "The lady is in +mourning, and much grief. She is like some saint of sorrows in a +priest's tale, and----" + +"The priests are liars, and invented hell," stated Rotil. + +"That may be, but sometimes we see sad women of prayers who look like +the saints the priests tell about,--and to have such women sold by a +gambler is not good to hear of." + +No one spoke for a little. The eyes of Rotil closed in a curious, +contemptuous smile. + +"You are young, boy," he said at last, "and even we who are not so +young are often fooled by women. Trust any woman of the camp rather +than the devout saints of the shrines. All are for market,--but you +pay most for the saint, and sorrow longest for her. And you never +forget that the shrine is empty!" + +His tone was mocking and harsh, but Kit preferred to ignore the sudden +change of manner for which there seemed no cause. + +"Thanks for the warning, General, and no saints for me!" he said good +naturedly. "Now, is there any practical thing I can do to add to your +comfort here? Any plans for tomorrow?" + +"A man of mine is already on the way to Soledad, and we will sleep +before other plans are made. Not even Marto will I see tonight, +knowing well that you have seen to his comfort!" and he chuckled again +at the thought of Marto in his luxurious trap. "My lads will do guard +duty in turn, and we sleep as we are." + +"Then, if I can be of no service----" + +"Tomorrow perhaps, not tonight, señor. Some sleep will do us no +harm." + +"Then good night, and good rest to you, General." + +"Many thanks, and good night, Don Pajarito." + +Kit laughed at that sally, and took himself out of the presence. It +was plain that the Deliverer had obtained only the most favorable +account of Kit as the friend of Whitely. And as an American lad who +sang songs, and protected even women he did not know, he could not +appear formidable to Rotil's band, and certainly not in need of +watching. + +He looked back at them as the general turned on his side to sleep, and +one of his men blew out the two candles, and stationed themselves +outside the door. As he noted the care they took in guarding him, and +glanced at the heavy doors and barred windows, he had an uncomfortable +thrill at the conviction that it would serve as a very efficient +prison for himself if his new friends, the revolutionists, ever +suspected he held the secret of the red gold of El Alisal. It was a +bit curious that the famous lost mine of the old mission had never +really been "lost" at all! + +Isidro, looking very tired, had preceded him from the _sala_, as Kit +supposed to go to bed. The day and night had been trying to the old +man, and already it was the small hours of a new day. + +There was a dim light in the room of Doña Jocasta, but no sound. Tula +was curled up on a blanket outside her door like a young puppy on +guard. He stooped and touched her shoulder. + +"The señora?" he whispered. + +"Asleep, after tears, and a sad heart!" she replied. "Valencia thanks +the saints that at last she weeps,--the beautiful sad one!" + +"That is well; go you also to sleep. Your friends keep guard +tonight." + +She made no reply, and he passed on along the corridor to his own +rooms. The door was open, and he was about to strike a light when a +hand touched his arm. He drew back, reaching for his gun. + +"What the devil----" + +"Señor," whispered Isidro, "make no light, and make your words in +whispers." + +"All right. What's on your mind?" + +"The señora and the Deliverer. Know you not, señor, that she is sick +with shame? It is so. No man has told him who the woman is he calls +yours. All are afraid, señor. It is said that once Ramon Rotil was +content to be a simple man with a wife of his own choosing, but luck +was not his. It was the daughter of a priest in the hills, and José +Perez took her!" + +"Ah-h!" breathed Kit. "If it should be this one----" + +"It is so,--she went like a dead woman at his voice, but he does not +know. How should he, when Don José has women beyond count? Señor, my +Valencia promised Doña Jocasta you would save her from meeting the +general. That promise was better than a sleeping drink of herbs to +her. Now that the promise is made, how will you make it good?" + +"Holy smoke--also incense--also the pipe!" muttered Kit in the dark. +"If I live to get out of this muddle I'll swear off all entangling +alliances forevermore! Come into the kitchen where we can have a +fire's light. I can't think in this blackness." + +They made their way to the kitchen, and started a blaze with mesquite +bark. The old Indian cut off some strips of burro _jerke_ and threw +them on the coals. + +"That is better, it's an occupation anyway," conceded Kit chewing with +much relish. "Now, Isidro, man, you must go on. You know the land +best. How is one to hide a woman of beauty from desert men?" + +"She may have a plan," suggested Isidro. + +"Where is Clodomiro?" asked Kit, suddenly recalling that the boy had +disappeared. The old man did not answer; he was very busy with the +fire, and when the question was repeated he shook his head. + +"I do not know who went. If Tula did not go, then Clodomiro was the +one. They were talking about it." + +"Talking,--about what?" + +"About the German. He is caught at Soledad, and must not be let go, or +let die. All the Indians of Palomitas will be asking the Deliverer for +that man." + +"Isidro, what is it they want to do with him?" asked Kit, and the old +Indian ceased fussing around with a stick in the ashes, and looked up, +sinister and reproving. + +"That, señor, is a question a man does not ask. If my woman tells me +the women want a man for Judas, I--get that man! I ask nothing." + +"Good God! And that child, Tula--" began Kit in consternation, and old +Isidro nodded his head. + +"It is Tula who asked. She is proving she is a woman; Clodomiro goes +for her because that is his work. Your white way would be a different +way,--of an alcalde and the word of many witness. Our women have their +own way, and no mistake is made." + +"But Rotil, the general,--he will not permit----" + +"Señor, for either mother or grandmother the general had an Indian +woman. He has the knowing of these things. I think Tula gets the man +they ask for. She is wise, that child! A good woman will be chosen to +have speech with the Deliverer--when they come." + +"There is a thought in that," mused Kit, glancing sharply at the old +man. "Do they make choice of some wise woman, to be speaker for the +others? And they come here?" + +"That is how it is, señor." + +"Then, what better way to hide Doña Jocasta than to place her among +Indian women who come in a band for that task? Many women veil and +shroud their heads in black as she does. The music of her voice was +dulled when she spoke to Marto, and General Rotil had no memory of +having ever heard it. Think,--is there to be found an old dress of +your wife? Can it be done and trust no one? Doña Jocasta is clever +when her fear is gone. With Tula away from that door the rest is easy. +The dawn is not so far off." + +"Dawn is the time the women of Palomitas will take the road," decided +Isidro, "for by the rising time of the sun the Deliverer has said that +his rest here is ended, and he goes on to Soledad where José Perez +will have a trembling heart of waiting." + +"Will they tell him whose trap he is caught in?" + +"Who knows? The Deliverer has plans of his own making. It was not for +idleness he was out of sight when the trap was sprung. He sleeps +little, does Ramon Rotil!" + +In a mesquite tree by the cook house chickens began to crow a +desultory warning. And Isidro proceeded to subtract stealthily a skirt +and shawl from wooden pegs set in the adobe wall where Valencia slept. +She startled him by stirring, and making weary inquiry as to whether +it was the time. + +"Not yet, my treasure, that fighting cock of Clodomiro crows only +because of a temper, and not for day. It is I will make the fire and +set Maria to the grinding. Go you to your sleep." + +Which Valencia was glad to do, while her holiday wardrobe, a purple +skirt bordered with green, and a deeply fringed black shawl, was +confiscated for the stranger within their gates. + +Thrusting the bundle back of an olla in the corridor he touched Tula +on the shoulder. + +"The señor waits you in the kitchen," he muttered in the Indian +tongue, and she arose without a word, and went silent as a snake along +the shadowy way. + +It took courage for Isidro to enter alone the room of Doña Jocasta, as +that was the business of a woman. But Kit had planned that, if +discovered, the girl should apparently have no accomplices. This +would protect Tula and Valencia should Rotil suspect treachery if an +occupant of the house should disappear. It would seem most natural +that a stolen woman would seek to escape homeward when not guarded, +and that was to serve as a reasonable theory. + +She slept with occasional shuddering sighs, as a child after sobbing +itself to sleep. That sad little sound gave the old Indian confidence +in his errand. It might mean trouble, but she had dared trouble ere +now. And there could not be continual sorrow for one so beautiful, and +this might be the way out! + +She woke with a startled cry as he shook her bed, but it was quickly +smothered as he whispered her name. + +"It is best you go to pray in the chapel room, and meet there the +women of Palomitas. Others will go to pray for a Judas; among many you +may be hidden." + +She patted his arm, and arose in the dark, slipping on her clothes. He +gave her the skirt and she donned that over her own dress. Her teeth +were chattering with nervous excitement, and when she had covered +herself with the great shawl, her hand went out gropingly to him to +lead her. + +As they did not pass the door of the _sala_, no notice was given them +by Rotil's guard. Mexican women were ever at early prayers, or at the +_metate_ grinding meal for breakfast, and that last possibility was +ever welcome to men on a trail. + +In the kitchen Kit Rhodes was seeking information concerning Clodomiro +from Tula, asking if it was true he would fetch the women of Palomitas +to petition Rotil. + +"Maybe so," she conceded, "but that work is not for a mind of a white +man. Thus I am not telling you Clodomiro is the one to go; his father +was what you call a priest,--but not of the church," she said hastily, +"no, of other things." + +Looking at her elfin young face in the flickering light of the hearth +fire, he had a realization of vast vistas of "other things" leading +backward in her inherited tendencies, the things known by his young +comrade but not for the mind of a white man,--not even for the man +whom Miguel had trusted with the secret of El Alisal. Gold might +occasionally belong to a very sacred shrine, but even sacred gold was +not held so close in sanctuary as certain ceremonies dear to the +Indian thought. Without further words Kit Rhodes knew that there were +locked chambers in the brain of his young partner, and to no white man +would be granted the key. + +"Well, since he has gone for them, there is nothing to say, though the +general may be ill pleased at visitors," hazarded Kit. "Also you and I +know why we should keep all the good will coming our way, and risk +none of it on experiments. Go you back to your rest since there is not +anything to be done. Clodomiro is at Palomitas by now, and you may as +well sleep while the dawn is coming." + +She took the strip of roasted meat he offered her, and went back to +her blanket on the tiles at the door of the now empty room. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE "JUDAS" PRAYER AT MESA BLANCA + + +Isidro was right when he said Ramon Rotil slept but little, for the +very edge of the dawn was scarce showing in the east when he opened +his eyes, moved his wounded leg stiffly, and then lay there peering +between half-shut eyelids at the first tint of yellow in the sky. + +"Chappo," he said curtly, "look beyond through that window. Is it a +band of horses coming down the mesa trail, or is it men?" + +"Neither, my General, it is the women who are left of the rancherias +of Palomitas. They come to do a prayer service at an old altar here. +Once Mesa Blanca was a great hacienda with a chapel for the peons, and +they like to come. It is a custom." + +"What saint's day is this?" + +"I am not wise enough, General, to remember all;--our women tell us." + +"Um!--saint's day unknown, and all a pueblo on a trail to honor it! +Call Fidelio." + +There was a whistle, a quick tread, and one of the men of Palomitas +stood in the door. + +"Take two men and search every woman coming for prayers--guns have +been carried under _serapes_." + +"But, General----" + +"Search every woman,--even though your own mother be of them!" + +"General, my own mother is already here, and on her knees beyond there +in the altar room. They pray for heart to ask of you their rights in +Soledad." + +"That is some joke, and it is too early in the morning for jokes with +me. I'm too empty. What have Palomitas women to do with rights in +Soledad?" + +"I have not been told," said Fidelio evasively. "It is a woman matter. +But as to breakfast, it is making, and the _tortillas_ already baking +for you." + +"Order all ready, and a long stirrup for that leg," said the general, +moving it about experimentally. "It is not so bad, but Marto can ride +fasting to Soledad for giving it to me." + +"But, my General, he asks----" + +"Who is he to ask? After yesterday, silence is best for him. +Take him along. I will decide later if he is of further use--I +may--need--a--man!" + +There was something deliberately threatening in his slow speech, and +the guards exchanged glances. Without doubt there would be executions +at Soledad! + +Rotil got off the cot awkwardly, but disdaining help from the guards +hopped to a chair against the wall between the two windows. + +Isidro came in with a bowl of water, and a much embroidered towel for +the use of the distinguished guest, followed by a vaquero with smoking +_tortillas_, and Tula with coffee. + +The general eyed the ornate drawnwork of the linen with its cobweb +fingers, and grinned. + +"I am not a bridegroom this morning, _muchachita_, and need no necktie +of such fineness for my beauty. Bring a plainer thing, or none." + +Tula's eyes lit up with her brief smile of approval. + +"I am telling them you are a man and want no child things, my +General," she stated firmly, "and now it proves itself! On the instant +the right thing comes." + +She darted out the door, bumping into Rhodes, and without even the +customary "with your permission" ran past him along the corridor, and, +suddenly cautious, yet bold, she lifted the latch of the guest room +where she had seen what looked to her like wealth of towels,--and felt +sure Doña Jocasta would not miss one of the plainest. + +Stealthy as a cat she circled the bed, scarce daring to glance at it +lest the lady wake and look reproach on her. + +But she stepped on some hard substance on the rug by the wooden bench +where the towels hung, and stooping, she picked it up, a little wooden +crucifix, once broken, and then banded with silver to hold it solid. +The silver was beautifully wrought and very delicate, surely the +possession of a lady, and not a thing let fall by chance from the +pocket of Valencia. + +Tula turned to lay it carefully on the pillow beside the señora, and +then stared at the vacant bed. + +Only an instant she halted and thrust her hand under the cover. + +"Cold,--long time cold!" she muttered, and with towel and crucifix she +sped back to the _sala_ where Rotil was joking concerning the +compliment she paid him. + +"Don't make dandies of yourselves if you would make good with a +woman," he said. "Even that little crane of a _muchacha_ has +brain,--and maybe heart for a man! She has boy sense." + +Kit, seeing her dart into the guest room, stood in his tracks watching +for her to emerge. She gave him one searching curious look as she sped +past, and he realized in a flash that his glance should have been +elsewhere, or at least more casual. + +She delivered the towel and retired, abashed and silent at the jests +of the man she regarded with awe as the god-sent deliverer of her +people. Once in the corridor she looked into Valencia's room, then in +the kitchen where Valencia and Maria and other women were hastening +breakfast, and last she sought Clodomiro at the corral. + +"Where did you take her, and how?" she demanded, and the youth, tired +with the endless rides and tasks of two days and nights, was surly, +and looked his impatience. "She, and she, and she! Always women!" he +grumbled. "Have I not herded all of them from over the mesa at your +order? Is one making a slow trail, and must I go herding again?" + +She did not answer, but looked past him at the horses. + +"Which did the señora ride from Soledad?" she inquired, and Clodomiro +pointed out a mare of shining black, and also a dark bay ridden by +Marto. + +"Trust him to take the best of the saddle herd," he remarked. "Why +have you come about it? Is the señora wanting that black?" + +"Maybe so; I was not told," she answered evasively. "But there is +early breakfast, and it is best to get your share before some quick +task is set,--and this day there are many tasks." + +The women were entering the portal at the rear, because the chapel of +the old hacienda was at the corner. There was considerable commotion +as Fidelio enforced the order to search for arms;--if the Deliverer +suspected treachery, how could they hope for the sympathy they came to +beg for? + +"Tell him there is nothing hidden under our rags but hearts of +sorrow," said the mother of Fidelio. "Ask that he come here where we +kneel to give God thanks that El Aleman is now in the power of the +Deliverer." + +"General Rotil does not walk, and there is no room for a horse in this +door. Someone of you must speak for the others, and go where he is." + +The kneeling women looked at each other with troubled dark eyes. + +"Valencia will be the best one," said an old woman. "She lost no one +by the pale beast, but she knows us every one. Marta, who was wife of +Miguel, was always mother and spoke for us to the padre, or anyone, +but Marta----" + +She paused and shook her head; some women wept. All knew Marta was one +who cried to them for vengeance. + +"That is true," said Valencia. "Marta was the best, but the child of +Marta is here, and knows more than we. She has done much,--more than +many women. I think the daughter can speak best for the mother, and +that the Deliverer will listen." + +Tula had knelt like the others, facing a little shelf on the wall +where a carven saint was dimly illuminated by the light of a candle. +All the room was very dark, for the dawn was yet but as a gray cloak +over the world, and no window let in light. + +The girl stood up and turned toward Valencia. + +"I will go," she said, "because it is my work to go when you speak, +but the Deliverer will ask for older tongues and I will come back to +tell you that." + +Without hesitation she walked out of the door, and the others +bent their heads and there was the little click-click of rosary +beads, slipping through their fingers in the dusk. Among the many +black-shawled huddled figures kneeling on the hard tiles, none +noticed the one girl in the corner where shadows were deepest, +and whose soft slender hands were muffled in Valencia's fringes. + +Kit stood until he noted that the searching for arms did not include +her, and then crossed the patio with Fidelio on his way to the +corrals. If the black mare of Doña Jocasta could be gotten to the rear +portal, together with the few burros of the older women, she might +follow after unnoticed. The adobe wall at the back was over ten feet +high and would serve as a shield, and the entire cavalcade would be a +half mile away ere they came in range from the plaza. + +He planned to manage that the mare be there without asking help of any +Indian, and he thought he could do it while the guard was having +breakfast. It would be easy for them to suppose that the black was his +own. Thus scheming for beauty astray in the desert, he chatted with +Fidelio concerning the pilgrimage of the Palomitas women, and the +possibility of Rotil's patience with them, when Tula crossed the patio +hurriedly and entered the door of the _sala_. + +The general was finishing his breakfast, while Isidro was crouched +beside him rewinding the bandage after a satisfactory inspection of +the wound. The swelling was not great, and Rotil, eating cheerfully, +was congratulating himself on having made a straight trail to the +physician of Mesa Blanca; it was worth a lost day to have the healing +started right. + +He was in that complacent mood when Tula sped on silent bare feet +through the _sala_ portal, and halted just inside, erect against the +wall, gazing at him. + +"Hola! _Niña_ who has the measure of a man! The coffee was of the +best. What errand is now yours?" + +"Excellency, it is the errand too big for me, yet I am the one sent +with it. They send me because the mother of me, and Anita, my sister, +were in the slave drive south, and the German and the Perez men +carried whips and beat the women on that trail." + +Her brave young heart seemed to creep up in her throat and choke her +at thought of those whips and the women who were driven, for her voice +trembled into silence, and she stood there swallowing, her head bent, +and her hands crossed over her breast, and clasped firmly there was +the crucifix she had found in the guest room. Little pagan that she +was, she regarded it entirely as a fetish of much potency with white +people, and surely she needed help of all gods when she spoke for the +whole pueblo to this man who had power over many lives. + +Rotil stared at her, frowning and bewildered. + +"What the devil,--" he began, but Isidro looked up at him and nodded +assent. + +"It is a truth she is telling, Excellency. Her father was Miguel, +once major-domo of this rancho. He died from their fight, and his +women were taken." + +"Oh, yes, that!--it happens in many states. But this German--who says +the German and Perez were the men to do it?" + +"I, Tula, child of Miguel, say it," stated the girl. "With my eyes I +saw him,--with my ears I heard the sister call out his name. The name +was Don Adolf. Over his face was tied a long beard, so! But it was the +man,--the friend of Don José Perez of Soledad; all are knowing that. +He is now your man, and the women ask for him." + +"What women?" + +"All the women of Palomitas. On their knees in the chapel they make +prayers. Excellency, it robs you of nothing that you give them a Judas +for Holy Week. I am sent to ask that of the Deliverer." + +She slid down to her knees on the tiles, and looked up at him. + +He stared at her, frowning and eyeing her intently, then chuckled, and +grinned at the others. + +"Did I not tell you she had the heart of a boy? And now you see it! +Get up off your knees, _chiquita_. Why should you want a Judas? It is +a sweetheart I must find for you instead." + +"I am not getting up," said Tula stolidly. "I am kneeling before you, +my General. See! I pray to you on the tiles for that Judas. All the +women are praying. Also the old women have made medicine to send El +Aleman once more on this trail, and see you,--it has come to pass! You +have him in your trap, but he is ours. Excellency, come once and see +all the women on their knees before the saint as I am here by you. We +make prayers for one thing:--the Judas for our holy day!" + +"You young devil!" he grinned. "I wish you were a boy. Here, you men +help me, or get me a crutch. I will see these women on their knees, +and if you don't lie----" + +With the help of Fidelio and a cane, he started very well, and nodded +to Kit. + +"You pick well, amigo," he observed. "She is a wildcat, and of +interest. Come you and see. _Por Dios!_ I've seen a crucifixion of the +Penitentes and helped dig the hidden grave. Also I have heard of the +'Judas' death on Holy Friday, but never before this has so young a +woman creature picked a man for it,--a man alive! Courage of the +devil!" + +Tula arose, and went before them across the plaza to the door of the +chapel. Kit knew this was the right moment for him to disappear and +get the black mare back of the wall, but Rotil kept chuckling to him +over the ungirlish request, and so pointedly included him in the party +that there seemed no excuse available for absenting himself. + +A flush of rose swept upward to the zenith heralding the sun, but in +the adobe room, with its door to the west, no light came, except by +dim reflection, and as Tula entered and the men stood at the +threshold, they blocked the doorway of even that reflection, and the +candle at the saint's shrine shone dimly over the bent heads of the +kneeling women. + +Rotil stood looking about questioningly; he had not expected to see +so many. Then at the sound of the click of the prayer beads, some +recollection of some past caused him to automatically remove his +wide-brimmed hat. + +"Mothers," said Tula quietly, "the Deliverer has come." + +There was a half-frightened gasp, and dark faces turned toward the +door. + +"He comes as I told you, because I am no one by myself, and he could +not know I was sent by you. I am not anyone among people, and he does +not believe. Only people of importance should speak with a soldier who +is a general." + +"No, _por Dios_, my boy, you speak well!" said Rotil, clapping his +hand on her shoulder, "but your years are not many and it cannot be +you know the thing you ask for." + +"I know it," asserted Tula with finality. + +An old woman got up stiffly, and came towards him. "We are very poor, +yet even our children are robbed from us--that is why we pray. Don +Ramon, your mother was simple as we, and had heart for the poor. Our +lives are wasted for the masters, and our women children are stolen +for the sons of masters. That is done, and we wish they may find ways +to kill themselves on the trail. But the man who drove them with whips +is now your man--and we mothers ask him of you." + +The wizened old creature trembled as she spoke, and scarce lifted her +eyes. She made effort to speak further, but words failed, and she +slipped to her knees and the beads slid from her nervous fingers to +the tiles. She was very old, and she had come fasting across the mesa +in the chill before the dawn; her two grandchildren had been driven +south with the slaves--one had been a bride but a month--and they +killed her man as they took her. + +Valencia came to her and wiped the tears from her cheeks, patting her +on the back as one would soothe a child, and then she looked at Rotil, +nodding her head meaningly, and spoke. + +"It is all true as Tia Tomasa is saying, señor. Her children are gone, +and this child of Capitan Miguel knows well what she asks for. The +days of the sorrows of Jesus are coming soon, and the Judas we want +for that day of the days will not be made of straw to be bound on the +wild bull's back, and hung when the ride is over. No, señor, we know +the Judas asked of you by this daughter of Miguel;--it is the pale +beast called El Aleman. For many, many days have we made prayers like +this, before every shrine, that the saints would send him again to our +valley. You, señor, have brought answer to that prayer. You have him +trapped, but he belongs only to us women. The saints listened to us, +and you are in it. Men often are in prayers like that, and have no +knowing of it, señor." + +Kit listened in amazement to this account of prayers to Mexican saints +for a Judas to hang on Good Friday! After four centuries of foreign +priesthood, and foreign saints on the shrines, the mental effect on +the aborigines had not risen above crucifixion occasionally on some +proxy for their supreme earthly god, or mad orgies of vengeance on a +proxy for Judas. The great drama of Calvary had taught them only new +forms of torture and the certainty that vengeance was a debt to be +paid. Conrad was to them the pale beast whipping women into +slavery,--and as supreme traitor to human things must be given a Judas +death! + +He shivered as he listened, and looked at the eyes of women staring +out of the dusk for the answer to their prayers. + +"_Por Dios!_" muttered Rotil, half turning to Kit, yet losing nothing +of the pleading strained faces. "Does your head catch all of that, +señor? Can't women beat hell? And women breed us all! What's the +answer?" + +"In this case it's up to you, General," replied Kit. "I'm glad the +responsibility is not mine. Even as it is, women who look like these +are likely to walk through my dreams for many a night!" + +Rotil gloomed at them, puzzled, frowning, and at times the flicker of +a doubtful smile would change his face without lighting it. No one +moved or spoke. + +"Here!" he said at last, "this child and two women have spoken, but +there are over twenty of you here. Three out of twenty is no +vote--hold up your hands. Come, don't hang back, or you won't get +Judas! There are no priests here, and no spies for priests, and there +have been words enough. Show your hands!" + +Kit looked back into the darkest corner, wondering what the vote of +Jocasta would be; her mother was said to be Indian, or half Indian, +and her hatred of the German would help her understand these darker +tribal sisters. + +But in the many lifted hands her own could not be seen and he felt +curiously relieved, though it was no affair of his, and one vote +either way would weigh nothing. + +Rotil looked at the lifted hands, and grunted. + +"You win, _muchacha_," he said to Tula. "I think you're the devil, and +it's you made the women talk. You can come along to Soledad and fetch +their Judas back to them." + +"My thanks to you, and my service, Excellency," said Tula. "I will go +and be glad that I go for that. But I swear by the Body and Blood, and +I swear on this, that I only pay the debt of my people to El Aleman." + +She was helping old Tia Tomasa to her feet with one hand, and held up +the little crucifix to him with the other. She had noted that white +people make oath on a cross when they want to be believed, and she +wished with all her pagan heart to be believed by this man who had +been a sort of legendary hero to her many months before she had seen +his face, or dared hope he would ever grant favor to her--Tula! + +But whatever effect she hoped to secure by emphasizing her oath on the +Christian symbol, she was not prepared for the rough grasp on her arm, +or the harsh command of his voice. + +"Holy God!" he growled, "why do you thrust that in my face,--you?" + +"Excellency--I--" began Tula, but he shook her as a cat would shake a +mouse. + +"Answer me! How comes it in your hands?" + +"I found it, señor--and did no harm." + +"When? Where?" + +"Why--I--I----" + +A note of warning flashed from some wireless across the girl's mind, +for it was no little thing by which Ramon Rotil had suddenly become a +growling tiger with his hand near her throat. + +"Where?" he repeated. + +"On a trail, señor." + +"When?" + +"Three days ago." + +"Where?" + +"At the place where the Soledad trail leaves that of Mesa Blanca." + +Rotil stared at her, and then turned to Kit. + +"Do you know of this thing?" + +"No, General, I don't," he said honestly enough, "but these women have +many such----" + +"No," contradicted Rotil, "they haven't,--there's a difference." + +He had seized the crucifix and held it, while he scanned the faces, +and then brought his gaze back to Tula. + +"You will show me that place, and prove yourself, _muchacha_," he said +grimly. "There's something--something--Do you know, you damned young +crane, that I can have my men shoot you against the wall out there if +you lie to me?" + +"Yes, my General, but it is better to give lead to enemies--and not +friends. Also a knife is cheaper." + +"Silence! or you may get both!" he growled. "Here, look well--you--all +of you! Have any of you but this creature seen it?" + +He held it out, and Valencia, who was nearest, caught sight of it. + +"Ai! Tula!" she said in reproof, "you to take that when the poor----" + +Tula flashed one killing look at her, and Valencia stopped dead, and +turned an ashen gray, and Rotil watching! + +"Ah--ha! I thought it!" he jeered. "Now whose trick is it to make me a +fool? Come, sift this thing! You," to Valencia, "have looked on this +before. Whose is it?" + +"Señor--I----" + +"So!" he said with a sort of growl in the voice, "something chokes +you? Look at me, not at the others! Also listen:--if a lie is told to +me, every liar here will go before a firing squad. Whose is this +crucifix?" + +Valencia's eyes looked sorrow on Tula, still under his hand, and then +on the wood and silver thing held up before her. The sun was just +rolling hot and red above the mountains, and Rotil's shaggy head was +outlined in a sort of curious radiance as the light struck the white +wall across the patio at his back. Even the silver of the crucifix +caught a glimmer of it, and to Valencia he looked like the warrior +padres of whom her grandmother used to tell, who would thunder hell's +terrors on the frightened neophytes until the bravest would grovel in +the dust and do penances unbelievable. + +That commanding picture came between her and Rotil,--the outlaw and +soldier and patriot. She stumbled forward with a pleading gesture +towards Tula. + +"Excellency, the child does no harm. She is a stranger in the house. +She has picked it up perhaps when lost by the señora, and----" + +"What señora?" + +"She who is most sorrowful guest here, Excellency, and her arms still +bruised from the iron chains of El Aleman." + +"And her name?" + +"Excellency, it is the woman saved from your man by the Americano +señor here beside you. And,--she asked to be nameless while sheltered +at Mesa Blanca." + +"But not to me! So this is a game between you two--" and he looked +from Tula to Kit with sinister threat in his eyes, "it is then _your_ +woman who----" + +"Ramon--no!" said a voice from the far shadows, and the black shawled +figure stood erect and cast off the muffling disguise. Her pale face +shone like a star above all the kneeling Indians. + +"God of heaven!" he muttered, and his hand fell from the shoulder of +Tula. "You--_you_ are one of the women who knelt here for vengeance?" + +"For justice," she said, "but I was here for a reason different;--it +was a place to hide. No one helped me, let the child go! Give these +women what they ask or deny them, but send them away. To them I am +nameless and unknown. You can see that even my presence is a thing of +fear to them,--let them go!" + +He stared at her across those frightened dark faces. It was true they +drew away from her in terror; her sudden uprising was as if she had +materialized from the cold tiles of the chapel floor. Kit noted that +their startled eyes were wide with awe, and knew that they also felt +they were gazing on a beauty akin to that of the pictured saints. Even +the glimmer of the candle touching her perfect cheek and brow added to +the unearthly appearance there in the shadows. + +But Ramon Rotil gazed at her across a wider space than that marked by +the kneeling Indian women! Four years were bridged by that look, and +where the others saw a pale Madonna, he saw a barefooted child weaving +flowers of the mountain for a shrine where poverty prevented a +candle. + +He had sold maize to buy candles, and shoes for her feet, and she had +given him the little brown wooden crucifix. + +Once in the height of her reign of beauty in the hacienda of Perez, a +ragged brown boy from the hills had lain in wait for her under the +oleanders, and thrust a tightly bound package of corn husks into her +hand, and her maid regarded with amazement the broken fragments of a +wooden cross so poor and cheap that even the most poverty stricken of +the peons could own one, and her wonder was great that her mistress +wept over the broken pieces and strove to fit them together again. + +And now it lay in his hand, bound and framed in silver wires +delicately wrought. + +He had traveled farther than she during the years between, and the +memento of the past made him know it. + +"Ramon, let them go!" she repeated with gentle appeal. + +"Yes," he said, taking a deep breath as if rousing from a trance, +"that is best. Child--see to it, and have your way. Señor, will you +arrange that the señora has what comfort there is here? Our horses +wait, and work waits----" + +He saw Valencia go with protecting, outstretched hands to Jocasta, and +turned away. + +Jocasta never moved. To save her friends from his rage she had spoken, +and to her the big moment of humiliation dreamed of and feared had +come and been lived through. He had seen her on her knees among all +that brown herd made up of such women as his mother and her mother had +been. From mistress of a palace on an estate large as many European +kingdoms she had become an outcast with marks of fetters on her arms, +while he was knelt to as a god by the simple people of the ranges, and +held power of life and death over a wide land! + +Kit could not even guess at all the tempestuous background of the +drama enacted there in the chill of the chapel at sunrise, but the +clash of those two outlaw souls suddenly on guard before each other, +thrilled him by the unexpected. Rotil, profane, ruthless, and jeering, +had suddenly grown still before the face of a woman from whom he +turned away. + +"Late! An hour late!" he grumbled, hobbling back to the plaza. "What +did I tell you? Hell of women! Well, your damned little crane got what +she started after--huh! Why did she lie?" + +"Well, you know, General," said Kit doubtfully, "that the enmity +between you and José Perez is no secret. Even the children talk of it, +and wish success to you--I've heard that one do it! Doña Jocasta is of +a Perez household, so it was supposed you would make prisoner anyone +of their group. And Tula--well, I reckon Tula listened last night to +some rather hard things the señora has lived through at Soledad, and +knew she would rather die here than go back there." + +Kit realized he was on delicate ground when trying to explain any of +the actions of any of the black and tan group to each other, but he +sought the safest way out, and drew a breath of relief at his success, +for Rotil listened closely, nodding assent, yet frowning in some +perplexity. + +"Um! what does that mean,--rather die than go back?" he demanded. "No +one has told me why the lady has come to Mesa Blanca, or what she is +doing here. I don't see--What the devil ails you?" + +For Kit stared at him incredulous, and whistled softly. + +"Haven't you got it _yet_?" he asked. "Last night you joked about a +girl Marto stole, and we stole from him again. Don't you realize now +who that girl is?" + +"_Jocasta!_" + +It was the first time he had uttered her name and there was a low +terrible note in his voice, half choked by smothered rage. + +"But how could Marto,--or why should--" he began and then halted, +checked by various conflicting facts, and stared frowningly at Rhodes +who again strove to explain that of which he had little knowledge. + +"General, I reckon Marto was square to your interests about everything +but the woman Perez and Conrad sent north into the desert, and it was +Marto's job to see that she never left it alive. Evidently he did not +report that extra task to you, for he meant to save the woman for +himself. But even at that, General, you've got to give him credit. He +says she bewitched him, and he couldn't kill her, and he wouldn't let +the others have her. Also he risked a whale of a beating up, and some +lead souvenirs, in trying to save her, even if it was for himself. So +you see, Marto was only extra human, and is a good man. His heart's +about broke to think he failed you, and I'll bet he wouldn't fail you +again in a thousand years!" + +"Yes, you have the right of that," agreed Rotil. "I did not know; I +don't know yet what this means about Perez and--and----" + +"None of us do, General," stated Kit. "I heard Valencia say it must be +something only a confessor could know,--but it must be rather awful at +that! She was started north like an insane criminal, hidden and in +chains. She explains nothing, but General, you have now the two men at +Soledad who made the plan, and you have here Marto who was their +tool--and perhaps--at Soledad--" he paused questioning. + +"Sure! that is what will be done," decided Rotil. "See to it, you, +after we are gone. Bring Doña Jocasta to Soledad with as much show of +respect as can be mustered in a poor land, your girl and Isidro's wife +to go along, and any comforts you can find. Yes, that is the best! +Some way we will get to the bottom of this well. She must know a lot +if they did not dare let her live, and Marto--well, you make a good +talk for him, straight too--Marto will go with me. Tell no one +anything. Make your own plans. By sunset I will have time for this +mystery of the chains of Doña Jocasta. Be there at Soledad by +sunset." + +"At your command, General." + +Then Chappo and Fidelio helped their leader into the saddle. Marto, +crestfallen and silently anticipating the worst, was led out next; a +_reata_ passed around the saddle horn and circling his waist was +fastened back of the saddle. His hands were free to guide his horse, +but Chappo, with a wicked looking gun and three full cartridge belts, +rode a few paces back of him to see that he made no forbidden use of +them. + +Kit watched them ride east while the long line of women of Palomitas +took up the trail over the mesa to the north. Their high notes of a +song came back to him,--one of those wailing chants of a score of +verses dear to the Mexican heart. In any other place he would have +deemed it a funeral dirge with variations, but with Indian women at +sunrise it meant tuneful content. + +Kit listened with a shiver. Because of his own vagrant airs they had +called him "El Pajarito" when he first drifted south over Mexican +trails,--but happy erratic tunefulness was smothered for him +temporarily. Over the vast land of riches, smiling in the sun, there +brooded the threats of Indian gods chained, inarticulate, reaching out +in unexpected ways for expression through the dusky devotees at hidden +shrines. The fact that occasionally they found expression through some +perverted fragment from an imported cult was a gruesome joke on the +importers. But under the eagle of Mexico, whose wide wings were used +as shield by the German vultures across seas, jokes were not popular. +German educators and foreign priests with Austrian affiliations, saw +to that. The spiritual harvest in Mexico was not always what the +planters anticipated,--for curious crops sprung up in wild corners of +the land, as Indian grains wrapped in a mummy's robe spring to life +under methods of alien culturists. + +Vague drifting thoughts like this followed Kit's shiver of repulsion +at that Indian joy song over the promise of a veritable live Judas. On +him they could wreak a personal vengeance, and go honestly to +confession in some future day, with the conviction that they had, by +the sufferings they could individually and collectively invent for +Judas, in some vague but laudable manner mitigated the sufferings of a +white god far away whose tribulations were dwelt upon much by the +foreign priesthood. + +He sensed this without analysis, for his was not the analytical mind. +What brain Kit had was fairly well occupied by the fact that his own +devoted partner was the moving spirit of that damnable pagan _Come, +all ye_--drifting back to him from the glorified mesa, flushed golden +now by the full sun. + +Clodomiro came wearily up from the corral. The boy had gone without +sleep or rest until his eyes were heavy and his movements listless. +Like the women of Palomitas he also had worked overtime at the call of +Tula, and Kit wondered at the concerted activity--no one had held back +or blundered. + +"Clodomiro," he said passing the lad a cigarette and rolling one for +himself from good new tobacco secured from Fidelio, "how comes it that +even the women of years come in the night for prayers when you ride +for them? Do they give heed to any boy who calls?" + +Clodomiro gave thanks for the cigarette, but was too well bred to +light it in the presence of an elder or a superior. He smelled it with +pleasure, thrust it over his ear and regarded Rhodes with perfectly +friendly and apparently sleepy black eyes. + +"Not always, señor, but when Tula sends the call of Miguel, all are +surely coming, and also making the prayer." + +"The call of Miguel? Why--Miguel is dead." + +"That is true, señor, but he was head man, and he had words of power, +also the old Indians listened. Now Tula has the words, and as you +see,--the words are still alive! I am not knowing what they mean,--the +words,--but when Tula tells me, I take them." + +"_O Tippecanoe, and Tyler too!_" hummed Kit studying the boy. "What's +in a word? Do you mean that you take a trail to carry words you don't +understand, because a girl younger than you tells you to?" + +The boy nodded indifferently. + +"Yes, señor, it is my work when it is words of old prayer, and Tula is +sending them. It would be bad not to go, a quicksand would surely +catch my horse, or I might die from the bite of a _sorrilla rabioso_, +or evil ghosts might lure me into wide _medanos_ where I would seek +trails forever, and find only my own! Words can do that on a man! and +Tula has the words now." + +"Indeed! That's a comfortable chum to have around--not! And have you +no fear?" + +"Not so much. I am very good," stated Clodomiro virtuously. "Some day +maybe I take her for my woman;--her clan talks about it now. She has +almost enough age, and--you see!" + +He directed the attention of Rhodes to the strips of red and green and +pink calico banding his arms, their fluttering ends very decorative +when he moved swiftly. + +"Oh, yes, I've been admiring them. Very pretty," said Kit amicably, +not knowing the significance of it, but conscious of the wide range +one might cover in a few minutes of simple Sonora ranch life. From the +tragic and weird to the childishly inane was but a step. + +Clodomiro passed on to the kitchen, and Kit smoked his cigarette and +paced the outer corridor, striving for plans to move forward with his +own interests, and employ the same time and the same trail for the +task set by Ramon Rotil. + +Rotil had stated that the escort of Doña Jocasta must be as complete +as could be arranged. This meant a dueña and a maid at least, and as +he had bidden Tula have her way with her "Judas," it surely meant that +Tula must go to Soledad. Very well so far, and as Rotil would +certainly not question the extent of the outfit taken along, why not +include any trifles Tula and he chanced to care for? He remembered +also that there were some scattered belongings of the Whitely's left +behind in the haste of departure. Well, a few mule loads would be a +neighborly gift to take north when he crossed the border, and Soledad +was nearer the border! + +It arranged itself very well indeed, and as Tula emerged from the +patio smoothing out an old newspaper fragment discarded by Fidelio, +and chewing _chica_ given her by Clodomiro, he hailed her with joy. + +"Blessed Indian Angel," he remarked appreciatively, "you greased the +toboggan for several kinds of hell for us this day of our salvation, +but your jinx was on the job, and turned the trick our way! Do you +know you are the greatest little mascot ever held in captivity?" + +But Tula didn't know what "mascot" meant, and was very much occupied +with the advertisement of a suit and cloak house in the old Nogales +paper in which some trader at the railroad had wrapped Fidelio's +tobacco. It had the picture of an alluring lady in a dress of much +material slipping from the shoulders and dragging around the feet. To +the aboriginal mind that seemed a very great waste, for woven material +was hard to come by in the desert. + +She attempted an inquiry concerning that wastefulness of Americanas, +but got no satisfactory reply. Kit took the tattered old paper from +her hand, and turned it over because of the face of Singleton staring +at him from the other side of the page. It was the account of the +inquest, and in the endeavor to add interest the local reporters had +written up a column concerning Singleton's quarrel with the range +boss, Rhodes,--and the mysterious disappearance of the latter across +the border! + +There was sympathetic mention made of Miss Wilfreda Bernard, heiress +of Granados, and appreciative mention of the efficient manager, +Conrad, who had offered all possible assistance to the authorities in +the sad affair. The general expression of the article was regret that +the present situation along the border prevented further investigation +concerning Rhodes. The said Rhodes appeared to be a stranger in the +locality, and had been engaged by the victim of the crime despite the +objections of Manager Conrad. + +There followed the usual praise and list of virtues of the dead man, +together with reference to the illustrious Spanish pioneer family from +whom his wife had been descended. It was the first time Kit had been +aware of the importance of Billie's genealogy, and remembering the +generally accepted estimates of Spanish pride, he muttered something +about a "rose leaf princess, and a Tennessee hill-billy!" + +"It's some jolt, two of them!" he conceded. + + _Twinkle, twinkle little star, + How I wonder what you are!_ + +"They say bunches of stars and planets get on a jamboree and cross +each other's trail at times, and that our days are rough or smooth +according to their tantrums. Wish I knew the name of the luminary +raising hell for me this morning! It must be doing a highland fling +with a full moon, and I'm being plunked by every scattered spark!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE SECRET OF SOLEDAD CHAPEL + + +It took considerable persuasion to prevail upon Doña Jocasta that a +return to Soledad would be of any advantage to anybody. To her it was +a place fearful and accursed. + +"But, señora, a padre who sought to be of service to you is still +there, a prisoner. In the warring of those wild men who will speak for +him? The men of Soledad would have killed him but for their +superstitions, and Rotil is notorious for his dislike of priests." + +"I know," she murmured sadly. "There are some good ones, but he will +never believe. In his scales the bad ones weigh them down." + +"But this one at Soledad?" + +"Ah, yes, señor, he spoke for me,--Padre Andreas." + +"And a prisoner because of you?" + +"That is true. You do well to remind me of that. My own sorrows sink +me in selfishness, and it is a good friend who shows me my duty. Yes, +we will go. God only knows what is in the heart of Ramon Rotil that he +wishes it, but that which he says is law today wherever his men ride, +and I want no more sorrow in the world because of me. We will go." + +Valencia had gone placidly about preparations for the journey from +the moment Kit had expressed the will of the Deliverer. To hesitate +when he spoke seemed a foolish thing, for in the end he always did the +thing he willed, and to form part of the escort for Doña Jocasta +filled her with pride. She approved promptly the suggestion that +certain bed and table furnishings go to Soledad for use of the señora, +and later be carried north to Mrs. Whitely, whose property they were. + +As capitan of the outfit, Kit bade her lay out all such additions to +their state and comfort, and he would personally make all packs and +decide what animals, chests, or provisions could be taken. + +This was easier managed than he dared hope. Clodomiro rode after mules +and returned with Benito and Mariano at his heels, both joyously +content to leave the planting of fields and offer their young lives to +the army of the Deliverer. Isidro was busy with the duties of the +ranch stock, and there was only Tula to see bags of nuggets +distributed where they would be least noticed among the linen, Indian +rugs, baskets and such family possessions easiest carried to their +owner. + +He marked the packs to be opened, and Tula, watching, did not need to +be told. + +The emotions of the night and the uncertainty of what lay ahead left +Rhodes and Doña Jocasta rather silent as they took the trail to the +gruesome old hacienda called by Doña Jocasta so fearful and accursed. +Many miles went by with only an occasional word of warning between +them where the way was bad, or a word of command for the animals +following. + +"In the night I rode without fear where I dare not look in the +sunlight," said Jocasta drawing back from a narrow ledge where stones +slipped under the hoofs of the horses to fall a hundred feet below in +a dry cañon. + +"Yes, señora, the night was kind to all of us," returned Kit politely. +"Even the accidents worked for good except for the pain to you." + +"That is but little, and my shoulder of no use to anyone. General +Rotil is very different,--a wound to a soldier means loss of time. It +is well that shot found him among friends for it is said that when a +wolf has wounds the pack unites to tear him to pieces, and there are +many,--many pesos offered to the traitor who will trap Rotil by any +lucky accident." + +"Yet he took no special care at Mesa Blanca." + +"Who knows? He brought with him only men of the district as guard. Be +sure they knew every hidden trail, and every family. Ramon Rotil is a +coyote for the knowing of traps." + +She spoke as all Altar spoke, with a certain pride in the ability of +the man she had known as a burro driver of the sierras. For three +years he had been an outlaw with a price on his head, and as a rebel +general the price had doubled many times. + +"With so many poor, how comes it that no informer has been found? The +reward would be riches untold to a poor _paisano_." + +"It might be to his widow," said Doña Jocasta, "but no sons of his, +and no brothers would be left alive." + +"True. I reckon the friends of Rotil would see to that! Faithful +hearts are the ones he picks for comrades. I heard an old-timer say +the Deliverer has that gift." + +She looked at him quickly, and away again, and went silent. He +wondered if it was true that there had been love between these two, +and she had been unfaithful. Love and Doña Jocasta were fruitful +themes for the imagination of any man. + +Valencia was having the great adventure of her life in her journey to +Soledad, and she chattered to Tula as a maiden going to a marriage. +Three people illustrious in her small world were at once to be +centered on the stage of war before her eyes. She told Tula it was a +thing to make songs of,--the two men and the most beautiful woman! + +When they emerged from the cañon into the wide spreading plain, with +the sierras looming high and blue beyond, the eyes of Kit and Tula +met, and then turned toward their own little camp in the lap of the +mother range. All was flat blue against the sky there, and no +indications of cañon or gulch or pocket discernible. Even as they drew +nearer to the hacienda, and Kit surreptitiously used the precious +field glasses, thus far concealed from all new friends of the desert, +he found difficulty in locating their hill of the treasure, and +realized that their fears of discovery in the little cañon had been +groundless. In the far-away time when the giant aliso had flourished +there by the cañon stream, its height might have served to mark the +special ravine where it grew, but the lightning sent by pagan gods had +annihilated that landmark forever, and there was no other. + +The glint of tears shone in the eyes of Tula, and she rode with +downcast eyes, crooning a vagrant Indian air in which there were bird +calls, and a whimpering long-drawn tremulo of a baby coyote caught in +a trap, a weird ungodly improvisation to hear even with the shining +sun warming the world. + +Kit concluded she was sending her brand of harmony to Miguel and the +ghosts on guard over the hidden trail.--And he rather wished she would +stop it! + +Even the chatter of Valencia grew silent under the spell of the girl's +gruesome intonings,--ill music for her entrance to a new portal of +adventure. + +"It sounds of death," murmured Doña Jocasta, and made the sign of the +cross. "The saints send that the soul to go next has made peace with +God! See, señor, we are truly crossing a place of death as she sings. +That beautiful valley of the green border is the _sumidero_,--the +quicksands from hidden springs somewhere above," and she pointed to +the blue sierras. "I think that is the grave José meant for me at +Soledad." + +"Nice cheerful end of the trail--not!" gloomed Kit strictly to +himself. "That little imp is whining of trouble like some be-deviled +prophetess." + +Afterwards he remembered that thought, and wished he could forget! + +Blue shadows stretched eastward across the wide zacatan meadows, and +the hacienda on the far mesa, with its white and cream adobe walls, +shone opal-like in the lavender haze of the setting sun. + +Kit Rhodes had timed the trip well and according to instruction of the +general, but was a bit surprised to find that his little cavalcade was +merely part of a more elaborate plan arranged for sunset at Soledad. + +A double line of horsemen rode out from the hacienda to meet them, a +rather formidable reception committee as they filed in soldier-like +formation over the three miles of yellow and green of the spring +growths, and halted where the glint of water shone in a dam filled +from wells above. + +Their officer saluted and rode forward, his hat in his hand as he +bowed before Doña Jocasta. + +"General Rotil presents to you his compliments, Señora Perez, and +sends his guard as a mark of respect when you are pleased to ride once +more across your own lands." + +"My thanks are without words, señor. I appreciate the honor shown to +me. My generalissimo will answer for me." + +She indicated Kit with a wan smile, and her moment of hesitation over, +his title reminded him that no name but El Pajarito had been given him +by his Indian friends. That, and the office of manager of Mesa Blanca, +was all that served as his introduction to her, and to Rotil. With the +old newspaper in his pocket indicating that Kit Rhodes was the only +name connected with the murder at Granados, he concluded it was just +as well. + +The guard drew to either side, and the officer and Kit, with Doña +Jocasta between them, rode between the two lines, followed by Tula and +Valencia. Then the guard fell in back of them, leaving Clodomiro with +the pack animals and the Indian boys to follow after in the dust. + +Doña Jocasta was pale, and her eyes sought Kit's in troubled question, +but she held her head very erect, and the shrouding lace veil hid all +but her eyes from the strangers. + +"Señor Pajarito," she murmured doubtfully. "The sun is still shining, +and there are no chains on my wrists,--otherwise this guard gives much +likeness to my first arrival at the hacienda of Soledad!" + +"I have a strong belief that no harm is meant to you by the general +commanding," he answered, "else I would have sought another trail, and +these men look friendly." + +"God send they be so!" + +"They have all the earmarks,--and look!" + +They were near enough the hacienda to see men emerge from the portal, +and one who limped and leaned on a cane, moved ahead of the others and +stood waiting. + +"It is an honor that I may bid you welcome to your own estate, Doña +Jocasta," he said grimly. "We have only fare of soldiers to offer you +at first, but a few days and good couriers can remedy that." + +"I beg that you accept my thanks, _Commandante_," she murmured lowly. +"The trail was not of my choosing, and it is an ill time for women to +come journeying." + +"The time is a good time," he said bluntly, "for there is a limit to +my hours here. And in one of them I may do service for you." + +His men stood at either side watching. There were wild tales told of +Ramon Rotil and women who crossed or followed his trail, but here was +the most beautiful of all women riding to his door and he gave her no +smile,--merely motioned to the Americano that he assist her from the +saddle. + +"The supper is ready, and your woman and the priest will see that care +is given for your comfort," he continued. "Afterwards, in the +_sala_----" + +She bent her head, and with Kit beside her passed on to the inner +portal. There a dark priest met her and reached out his hand. + +"No welcome is due me, Padre Andreas," she said brokenly. "I turned +coward and tried to save myself." + +"Daughter," he returned with a wry smile at Kit, and a touch of cynic +humor, "you had right in going. The lieutenant would have had no +pleasure in adding me to his elopement, and, as we hear,--your stolen +trail carried you to good friends." + +Kit left them there and gave his attention to space for the packs and +outfit, but learned that the general had allotted to him the small +corral used in happier days for the saddle horses of the family. There +was a gate to it and a lock to the gate. Chappo had been given charge, +and when all was safely bestowed, he gave the key to the American. + +The brief twilight crept over the world, and candles were lit when Kit +returned to the corridor. Rotil was seated, giving orders to men who +rode in and dismounted, and others who came out from supper, mounted +and rode away. It was the guard from a wide-flung arc bringing report +of sentinels stationed at every pass and water hole. + +Padre Andreas was there presenting some appeal, and to judge by his +manner he was not hopeful of success. Yet spoke as a duty of his +office and said so. + +"What is your office to me?" asked Rotil coldly. "Do your duty and +confess him when the time comes if that is his wish. It is more than +he would have given to her or the foreman who stored the ammunition. +Him he had killed as the German had Miguel Herrara killed on the +border,--and Herrara had been faithful to that gun running for months. +When man or woman is faithful to José Perez long enough to learn +secrets, he rewards them with death. A dose of his own brew will be +fit medicine." + +"But the woman,--she is safe. She is----" + +"Yes, very safe!" agreed Rotil, sneering. "Shall I tell you, pious +Father, how safe she is? The cholo who took food to Perez and that +German dog has brought me a message. See, it is on paper, and is clear +for any to read. You--no not you, but Don Pajarito here shall read it. +He is a neutral, and not a padre scheming to save the soul of a man +who never had a soul!" + +Kit held it to the light, read it, and returned it to Rotil. + +"I agree with you, General. He offers her to you in exchange for his +own freedom." + +"Yes, and to pay for that writing I had him chained where he could see +her enter the plaza as a queen, if we had queens in Mexico! You had an +unseen audience for your arrival. The guard reports that the German +friend of Perez seems to love you, Don Pajarito, very much indeed." + +"Sure he does. Here is the mark of one of his little love pats with a +monkey wrench," and Kit parted his hair to show the scar of the +Granados assault. "I got that for interfering when he was trying to +kill his employer's herds with ground glass in their feed." + +"So? no wonder if he goes in a rage to see you riding as a lady's +caballero while he feels the weight of chains in a prison. This world +is but a little place!" + +"That is true," said Padre Andreas, "regarding Kit, for the story of +the horses was told to me by Doña Jocasta here in Soledad!" + +"How could that be?" demanded Rotil. "Is it not true you met the lady +first at Mesa Blanca?" + +"As you say," said Kit, alert at the note of suspicion, "if the lady +knows aught of Granados, it is a mystery to me, and is of interest." + +"Not so much a mystery," said the priest. "Conrad boasted much when +glasses were emptied with Perez on the Hermosillo rancho, and Doña +Jocasta heard. He told the number of cavalry horses killed by his men, +also the owner of that ranch of Granados who had to be silenced for +the cause." + +"Thanks for those kind words, Padre," said Kit. "If Doña Jocasta has a +clear memory of that boasting, she may save a life for me." + +"So?" said Rotil speculatively. "We seem finding new trails at +Soledad. Whose life?" + +"The partner of a chum of mine," stated Kit lightly, as he did some +quick thinking concerning the complications likely to arise if he was +regarded as a possible murderer hiding from the law. "My own hunch is +that Conrad himself did it." + +"Have you any idea of a trap for him?" + +"N-no, General, unless he was led to believe that I was under guard +here. He might express his sentiments more freely if he thought I +would never get back across the border alive." + +"Good enough! This offer from Perez is to go into the keeping of Doña +Jocasta. You've the duty of taking it to her. We have not yet found +that ammunition." + +"Well, it did cross the border, and somebody got it." + +"He says it was moved to Hermosillo before Juan Gonsalvo, the +overseer, died." + +"Was shot, you mean, after it was cached." + +"Maybe so, but he offers to trade part of it for his liberty, and +deliver the goods north of Querobabi." + +"Yes, General,--into the bodies of your men if you trust him." + +Rotil chuckled. "You are not so young as you look, Don Pajarito, and +need no warning. It is the room next the _sala_ where I will have +Perez and Conrad brought. The señora can easily overhear what is said. +It may be she will have the mind to help when she sees that offer he +made." + +"It would seem so, yet--women are strange! They go like the padre, to +prayers when a life is at stake." + +"Some women, and some priests, boy," said the dark priest. "It may be +that you do not know Doña Jocasta well." + +This remark appeared to amuse Rotil, for he smiled grimly and with a +gesture indicated that they were to join Doña Jocasta. + +She was rested and refreshed by a good supper. Valencia and Elena, the +cook, had waited upon her and the latter waxed eloquent over the +stupendous changes at Soledad from the time of Doña Jocasta's supper +the previous day. Many of the angry men had been ready to start after +Marto who had cheated them, when a courier rode in with the word that +Don José and Señor Conrad were close behind. Then the surprise of all +when Don José was captured, and it was seen that Elena had been +cooking these many days, not for simple vaqueros, but for some +soldiers of the revolution by which peace and plenty was to come to +all the land! It was a beautiful dream, and the Deliverer was to make +it come true! + +Tula sat in the shadow against the wall, like some slender Indian +carving, mute and expressionless while the eyes of the woman rolled as +the two old friends exchanged their wonder tales of the night and day! +Elena made definite engagement to be with the "Judas" trailers on the +dark Friday, and both breathed blessings on Rotil who had promised +them the right man for the hanging. + +It was this cheerful topic Kit entered upon with the written note from +Perez to the general. He had no liking for his task, as his eyes +rested on Doña Jocasta, beautiful, resigned and detached from the +scene about her. He remembered what Rotil had said scoffingly of +saints lifted from shrines--a man never forgot that shrine was empty! + +"Mine is a thankless task, señora, but the general decided you are the +best keeper of this," and he gave to her the scribbled page torn from +a note book. + +She took it and held it unread, looking at him with dark tragic eyes. + +"I have fear of written words, señor, and would rather hear them +spoken. So many changes have come that I dread new changes. No matter +where my cage is moved, it is still a cage to me," she said +wistfully. + +"I've a hunch, Doña Jocasta, that the bars of that cage are going to +be broken for you," ventured Kit, taking the seat she indicated, "and +this note may be one of the weapons to do it. Evidently Señor Perez +has had some mistaken information concerning the stealing of you from +here;--he thought it was by the general's order. So mistaken was he +that he thought you were the object of Rotil's raid on Soledad, and +for his own freedom he has offered to give you, and half his stock of +ammunition, to General Ramon Rotil, and agree to a truce between their +factions." + +"Ah! he offers to make gift of me to the man he hates," she said after +a long silence. "And the guns and ammunition,--he also surrenders +them?" + +"He offers--but it is written here! Since the guns, however, have been +taken south, he cannot give them; he can only promise them, until such +time----" + +"Ho!" she said scornfully. "Is that the tale he tells? It is true +there are guns in the south, but guns are also elsewhere! He forgets, +does José Perez,--or else he plays for time. This offer," and she +referred to the note, "it is not written since we arrived--no. It was +written earlier, when he thought I was held by that renegade far in +the desert." + +"I reckon that is true, señora, for after receiving it, Rotil had him +chained in a room fronting the plaza that he might see you enter +Soledad with honors." + +"Ramon Rotil did that?" she mused, looking at the note thoughtfully, +"and he gives to me the evidence against José? Señor, in the Perez +lands we hear only evil things and very different things about Rotil. +They would say this paper was for sale, but not for a gift. And--he +gives it to me!" + +Kit also remembered different things and evil things told of Rotil, +but they were not for discussion with a lady. He had wondered a bit +that it was not the padre who was given the message to transmit, yet +suddenly he realized that even the padre might have tried to make it a +question of barter, for the padre wanted help for his priestly office +in the saving of Perez' soul, and incidentally of his life. + +"Yes, señora, it seems a free-will offering, and he said to tell you +it would be in the room adjoining this that Perez would be questioned +as to the war material. Rotil's men have searched, and his officers +have questioned, but Perez evidently thinks Rotil will not execute +him, as a ransom will pay much better." + +"That is true, death pays no one--no one!" + +Her voice was weighted with sadness, and Kit wondered what the cloud +was under which she lived. The padre evidently knew, but none of +Rotil's men. It could not be the mere irregularity of her life with +Perez, for to the peon mind she was the great lady of a great +hacienda, and wife of the padrone. No,--he realized that the sin of +Doña Jocasta had been a different thing, and that the shadow of it +enveloped her as a dark cloak of silence. + +"It is true, señora, that death pays no one, except that the death of +one man may save other lives more valuable. That often happens," +remarked Kit, with the idea of distracting her from her own woe, +whatever it was. "It might have seemed a crime if one of his nurses +had chucked a double dose of laudanum into Bill Hohenzollern's baby +feed, but that nurse would have saved the lives of hundreds of +thousands of innocents, so you never can tell whether a murderer is a +devil, or a man doing work of the angels." + +"Bill?" Evidently the name was a new one to Doña Jocasta. + +"That's the name of the Prussian pirate of the Huns across the water. +Your friend Conrad belongs to them." + +"My friend! My _friend_, señor!" and Doña Jocasta was on her feet, +white and furious, her eyes flaming hatred. Kit Rhodes was appalled at +the spirit he had carelessly wakened. He remembered the statement of +the priest that he evidently did not know the lady well, and realized +in a flash that he certainly did not, also that he would feel more +comfortable elsewhere. + +"Señora, I beg a thousand pardons for my foolishness," he implored. +"My--my faulty Spanish caused me to speak the wrong word. Will you not +forgive me such a stupid blunder? Everyone knows the German brute +could not be a friend of yours, and that you could have only hatred of +his kind." + +She regarded him steadily with the ever ready suspicion against an +Americano showing in her eyes, but his regret was so evident, and his +devotion to her interests so sincere, that the tension relaxed, and +she sank back in her chair, her hand trembling as she covered her eyes +for a moment. + +"It is I who am wrong, señor. You cannot know how the name of that man +is a poison, and why absolution is refused me because I will not +forgive,--and will not say I forgive! I will not lie, and because of +the hate of him my feet will tread the fires of hell. The padre is +telling me that, so what use to pray? Of what use, I ask you?" + +Kit could see no special use if she had accepted the threat of the +priest that hell was her portion anyway. + +"Oh, I would not take that gabble of a priest seriously if I were +you," he suggested. "No one can beat me in detesting the German and +what he stands for, but I have no plans of going to hell for it--not +on your life! To hate Conrad, or to kill him would be like killing a +rattlesnake, or stamping a tarantula into the sand. He has been let +live to sting too many, and Padre Andreas tells me you heard him boast +of an American killing at Granados!" + +"That is true, señor, and it was so clever too! It was pleasure for +him to tell of that because of clever tricks in it. They climbed poles +to the wires and called the man to a town, then they waited on that +road and shot him before he reached the town. The alcalde of that +place decided the man had killed himself, and Conrad laughed with José +Perez on account of that, because they were so clever!" + +"They?" queried Kit trying to prevent his eagerness from showing in +his voice. "Who helped him? Not Perez?" + +"No, señor, in that sin José had no part. It was a very important man +who did not appear important;--quite the other way, and like a man of +piety. His name, I am remembering it well, for it is Diego,--but said +in the American way, which is James." + +"Diego, said in the American way?" repeated Kit thoughtfully. "Is he +then an American?" + +"Not at all, señor! He is Aleman _commandante_ for the border. His +word is an order for life or death, and José Perez is of his circle. +The guns buried by Perez are bought with the German money; it is for +war of Sonora against Arizona when that day comes." + +"Shucks! that day isn't coming unless the Huns put more of a force +down here than is yet in sight," declared Kit, "but that 'Diego' +bothers me. I know many James',--several at Granados, but not the sort +you tell of, señora. Will you speak of that murder again, and let it +be put on paper for me? I have friends at Granados who may be troubled +about it, and your help would be as--as the word of an angel at the +right hour." + +"A sad angel, señor," she said with a sigh, "but why should I not help +you to your wish since you have guarded me well? It is a little thing +you ask." + +The Indian women at the far end of the _sala_ had lowered their +voices, but their gossip in murmurs and expressive gestures flowed on, +and only Tula gave heed to the talk at the table of wars and guns, and +secrets of murder, and that was no new thing in Sonora. + +One door of the _sala_ opened from the patio, and another into a room +used as a chapel after the old adobe walls of the mission church had +melted utterly back into the earth. Rotil had selected it merely +because its only window was very high, an architectural variation +caused by a wing of the mission rooms still standing when Soledad +hacienda was built. A new wall had been built against the older and +lower one which still remained, with old sleeping cells of the +neophytes used as tool sheds, and an unsightly litter of propped or +tumbling walls back of the ranch house. + +The door from the _sala_ was slightly ajar, and the voice of Fidelio +was heard there. He asked someone for another candle, and another +chair. And there was the movement of feet, and rearrangement of +furniture. + +Rotil entered the _sala_ from the patio, and stood just inside, +looking about him. + +With a brief word and gesture he indicated that Elena and Valencia +vacate. At Tula he glanced, but did not bid her follow. He noted the +folded paper in the hand of Doña Jocasta, but did not address her; it +was to Kit he spoke. + +"The door will be left open. I learn that Conrad distrusts Perez +because he paid German money, and shipped the guns across the border, +but Perez never uncovered one for him. They are badly scared and ready +to cut each other's throats if they had knives. Doña Jocasta may +overhear what she pleases, and furnish the knives as well if she so +decides." + +But Doña Jocasta with a shudder put up her hand in protest. + +"No knife, no knife!" she murmured, and Rotil shrugged his shoulders +and looked at Kit. + +"That little crane in the corner would walk barefoot over embers of +hell to get a knife and get at Conrad," he said. "You have taste in +your favorites, señor." + +He seemed to get a certain amusement in the contemplation of Kit and +Tula; he had seen no other American with quite that sort of addition +to his outfit. Kit was content to let him think his worst, as to tell +the truth would no doubt lose them a friend. It tickled the general's +fancy to think the thin moody Indian girl, immature and childlike, was +an American's idea of a sweetheart! + +Voices and the clank of chains were heard in the patio, and then in +the next room. + +"Why bring us here when your questions were given answer as well in +another place?" demanded a man's voice, and at that Doña Jocasta +looked at Rotil. + +"Yes, why do you?" she whispered. + +He stared at her, frowning and puzzled. + +"Did I not tell you? I did it that you might hear him repeat his +offer. What else?" + +"I--see," she said, bending her head, but as Rotil went to the door, +Kit noted that the eyes of Doña Jocasta followed him curiously. He +concluded that the unseen man of the voice was José Perez. + +Then the voice of Conrad was heard cursing at a chain too heavy. Rotil +laughed, and walked into the chapel. + +"I can tell you something, you German Judas!" he said coldly. "You +will live to see the day when these chains, and this safe old chapel, +will be as a paradise you once lived in. You will beg to crawl on your +knees to be again comfortably inside this door." + +"Is that some Mexican joke?" asked Conrad, and Rotil laughed again. + +"Sure it is, and it will be on you! They tell me you collect girls in +Sonora for a price. Well, they have grown fond of you,--the Indian +women of Sonora! They say you must end your days here with them. I +have not heard of a ransom price they would listen to,--though you +might think of what you have to offer." + +"Offer?" growled Conrad. "How is there anything to offer in Sonora +when Perez here has sent the guns south?" + +"True, the matter of ransom seems to rest with Señor Perez who is +saving of words." + +"I put the words on paper, and sent it by your man," said Perez. "What +else is there to say?" + +"Oh, that?" returned Rotil. "My boys play tricks, and make jokes with +me like happy children. Yes, Chappo did bring words on paper,--foolish +words he might have written himself. I take no account of such things. +You are asked for the guns, and I get foolish words on paper of a +woman you would trade to me, and guns you would send me." + +"Well?" + +"Who gives you right to trade the woman, señor?" + +"Who has a better right? She belongs to me." + +"Very good! And her name?" + +"You know the name." + +"Perhaps, but I like my bargains with witness, and they must witness +the name." + +"Jocasta--" There was a slight hesitation, and Rotil interrupted. + +"She has been known as Señora Jocasta Perez, is it not so?" + +"Well--yes," came the slow reply, "but that was foolishness of the +peons on my estates. They called her that." + +"Very good! One woman called Jocasta Perez is offered to me in trade +with the guns. José Perez, have you not seen that the Doña Jocasta +Perez is even now mistress of Soledad, and that my men and I are as +her servants?" + +Jocasta on the other side of the door strangled a half sob as she +heard him, and crept nearer the door. + +"Oh, you are a good one at a bargain, Ramon Rotil! You try to pretend +the woman cannot count in this trade, but women always count,--women +like Jocasta!" + +"So? Then we will certainly take count of the woman--one woman! Now to +guns and ammunition. How many, and where?" + +"At Hermosillo, and it will take a week." + +"I have no week to waste, and I do not mean the guns at Hermosillo. +You have five minutes, José Perez. Also those playful boys are +building a nice warm fire for the branding irons. And you will both +get a smell of your own burning hides if I wait longer for an +answer." + +"Holy God!" shouted Conrad. "Why burn me for his work? From me the +guns have been hid as well as from you;--all I got was promises! They +are my guns,--my money paid, but he is not straight! Here at Soledad +he was to show me this time, but I think now it was a trick to murder +me as he murdered Juan Gonsalvo, the foreman who stored them away for +him." + +"Animal!" growled Perez. "You have lost your head to talk of murders +to me! Two murders at Granados are waiting for you, and it is not far +to ship you back to the border! Walk with care, señor!" + +"You are each wasting time with your truth telling," stated Rotil. +"This is no time to count your dead men. It is the count of the guns I +want. And a sight of the ammunition." + +"Give me a guide to Hermosillo, and the price of guns can be got for +you." + +"It is not the _price_ of guns I asked you for, it is guns,--the guns +Conrad and Herrara got over the border for you. Your time is going +fast, José Perez." + +"They are not to be had this side of Hermosillo, send me south if you +want them. But it is well to remember that if an accident happens to +me you never could get them,--never! I alone know their hiding +place." + +"For that reason have I waited for your visit to Soledad,--you and +your carts and your pack mules," stated Rotil. "Do not forget that +Marto Cavayso and other men of mine have been for weeks with your +ranchmen. Your pack train comes here empty, and means one thing +only--they came for the American guns! Your minutes are going, señor, +and the branding irons are getting heat from the fire. One more +minute!" + +"Write the figures of the ransom, and grant me a messenger to +Hermosillo. You have the whip hand, you can make your price." + +"But me? What of _my_ ransom?" demanded Conrad. "My money, and my time +paid for those guns--I have not seen one of them this side of the +border! If no guns are paid for me, money must be paid." + +"No price is asked for you. I told you the women have named no +ransom." + +"Women? That is foolishness. It is not women for whom you hold me! He +has turned traitor, has Perez! He wants me sent back across the border +without that price of the guns for his mushroom government! He has +told his own tales of Herrara, and of Singleton, and they are +lies--all lies!" + +"But what of the tale of Diego, said in the American way?" asked Kit +stepping inside the room. + +"Diego! Diego!" repeated Conrad and made a leap at Perez. "You have +sold me out to the Americans, you scum! James warned me you were scum +of the gutters, and now----" + +The guard caught him, and he stood there shaking with fury in the dim +light. Perez drew away with a curse. + +"To hell with you and James and your crew on the border," he growled. +"I care nothing as to how soon the damned gringos swing you both. When +you Germans want to use us we are your 'dear brothers.' When we +out-trick you, we are only scum, eh? You can tell your _commandante_ +James that I won the game from him, and all the guns!" + +"My thanks to you, General Rotil, that I have been allowed to hear +this," said Kit, "also that I have witness. I'd do as much for you if +the chance comes. Two men were killed on the border by Conrad under +order of this James. Herrara was murdered in prison for fear he would +turn informer about the guns. Singleton was murdered to prevent him +investigating the German poisoning of cavalry horses. The German swine +meant to control Granados rancho a few months longer for their own +purposes." + +"_Meant_ to?" sneered Conrad. "You raw cub!--you are playing with +dynamite and due for a fall. So is your fool country! Though Perez +here has lost his nerve and turned traitor to our deal, that is only a +little puff of wind against the bulwarks of the Fatherland! We will +hold Granados; we will hold the border; and with Mexico (not this +crook of the west, but _real_ Mexico) we will win and hold every +border state and every Pacific coast state! You,--poor fool!--will +never reach Granados alive to tell this. You are but one American in +the Indian wilderness, and you are sure to go under, but you go +knowing that though James and I die, and though a thousand more of us +die, there will be ten thousand secret German workers in America to +carry on our plan until all the world will be under the power of the +Prussian eagle! You,--who think you know so much, can add _that_ to +finish your education in Sonora, and carry it to hell with you!" + +His voice, coldly contemptuous at first, had risen to a wrathful +shriek as he faced the American and hurled at him the exultance of the +Teuton dream. + +"I certainly am in great luck to be your one American confessor," +grinned Kit, "but I'll postpone that trip as long as possible. I +reckon General Rotil will let the padre help me make note of this +education you are handing out to me. A lot of Americans need it! Have +I your permission, General?" + +"Go as far as you like," snapped Rotil. "They have used up their time +limit in scolding like old women. Perez, I wait for the guns." + +"Send me to Hermosillo and I will recover enough for a ransom," said +Perez. + +Rotil regarded him a moment through half-closed, sinister eyes. + +"That was your last chance, and you threw it away. Chappo, strip him; +Fidelio, fetch the branding irons." + +Perez shrank back, staring at Rotil as if fascinated. He was striving +to measure the lengths to which the "Hawk of the Sierras" would go, +and a sudden gleam of hope came into his eyes as Padre Andreas held +up a crucifix before Chappo, waving him aside. + +"No, Rotil,--torture is a thing for animals, not men! Hell waits for +the sinner who----" + +"Hell won't wait for you one holy minute!" snapped Rotil. "Get back +with the women where you belong; there is men's work to do here." + +He caught the priest by the arm in an iron grip and whirled him +towards the _sala_. The man would have fallen but for Kit who caught +him, but could not save the crash of his head against the door. Blood +streamed from a cut in his forehead, and thus he staggered into the +room where Doña Jocasta stood, horror-stricken and poised for flight. + +But the sight of the blood-stained priest, and the sound of a strange, +half animal cry from the other room, turned her feet that way. + +"No, Ramon! No-_no_!" she cried and sped through the door to fling +herself between him and his victims. + +Her arms were stretched wide and she halted, almost touching him, with +her back to the chained man towards whom she had not glanced, but she +could not help seeing the charcoal brazier with the red-hot branding +irons held by Fidelio. The gasping cry had come from Conrad by whom +the brazier was set. + +Ramon Rotil stared at her, frowning as if he would fling her from his +path as he had the priest. + +"No, Ramon!" she said again, still with that supplicating look and +gesture, "send them out of here,--both these men. I would smother and +die in a room with that German beast. You will not be sorry, Ramon +Rotil, I promise you that,--I promise you by the God I dare not +face!" + +[Illustration: "No, Ramon! No!" she cried, and flung herself between him +and his victims.] + +"Ho!" snarled Perez. "Is the priest also her lover that she----" + +"Send the German out, and let José Perez stay to see that I keep my +promise," she said letting her arms fall at her side, but facing Rotil +with an addition of hauteur in her poise and glance. "The price he +will pay for the words he has spoken here will be a heavy price,--one +he has risked life to hold! Send that pale snake and your men outside, +Ramon." + +Perez was leaning forward, his face strained and white, watching her. +He could not see her face, but the glimpse of hope came again into his +eyes--a woman might succeed with Rotil where a priest would fail! + +Rotil, still frowning at her, waved his hand to Chappo and Fidelio. + +"Take him away," he said, "and wait beyond." + +The shuffling movement and clank of chains was heard, but she did not +turn her head. Instead she moved past Rotil, lifted a candle, and went +towards the shrine at the end of the room. + +A table was there with a scarf across it, and back of the table three +steps leading up to a little platform on which were ranged two or +three mediocre statues of saints, once brilliant with blue and scarlet +and tinsel, but tarnished and dim from the years. + +In the center was a painting, also dark and dim in which only a halo +was still discernible in the light of the candle, but the features of +the saint pictured there were shadowed and elusive. + +For a moment she knelt on the lower step and bent her head because of +those remnants of a faith which was all she knew of earthly hope,--and +then she started to mount the steps. + +"The curse of God shrivel you!" muttered Perez in cold fury--"come +down from there!" + +Without heed to the threat, she moved the little statues to right or +left, and then lifted her hand, resting it on the wooden frame of the +painting. + +"Call the Americano," she said without turning. "You will need a man, +but not a man of Altar. Another day may come when you, Ramon, may have +need of this house for hiding!" + +Rotil strode to the door and motioned Kit to enter, then he closed +both doors and gave no heed to Perez, crouched there like a chained +coyote in a trap. + +"Come down!" he said again. "You are in league with hell to know of +that. I never gave it to you! Come down! I meant to tell after he had +finished with Conrad--I mean to tell!" + +"He waited too long, and spoke too much," she said to Rotil. "Keep +watch on him, and let the Americano give help here." + +Kit mounted the step beside her, and at her gesture took hold of the +frame on one side. She found a wedge of wood at the other side and +drew it out. The loosened frame was lifted out by Kit and carried down +the three steps; it was a panel a little over two feet in width and +four in height. + +"Set it aside, and watch José Perez while General Rotil looks within," +she said evenly. + +Rotil glanced at Perez scowling black hate at her, and then turned to +Jocasta who held out the candle. + +"It is for you to see,--you and no other," she said. "You have saved a +woman he would have traded as a slave, and I give you more than a +slave's ransom." + +He took the candle and his eyes suddenly flamed with exultation as her +meaning came to him. + +"_Jocasta!_" he muttered as if scarce believing, and then he mounted +the step, halted an instant in the panel of shadow, and, holding the +candle over his head, he leaned forward and descended on the other +side of the wall. + +"You damned she-wolf of the hills!" growled Perez with the concentrated +hate of utter failure in his voice. "I fed you, and my money covered +your nakedness, and now you put a knife in my neck and go back to +cattle of the range for a mate! You,--without shame or soul!" + +"That is true," she said coldly. "You killed a soul in the _casita_ of +the oleanders, José Perez, and it was a dead woman you and the German +chained to be buried in the desert. But even the dead come back to +help friends who are faithful, José,--and I am as the dead who walk." + +She did not look at him as she spoke, but sank on her knees before the +dark canvas where only the faint golden halo gave evidence of some +incarnated holiness portrayed there. Her voice was low and even, and +the sadness of it thrilled Kit. He thought of music of sweet chords, +and a broken string vibrating, for the hopelessness in her voice held +a certain fateful finality, and her delicate dark loveliness---- + +Rotil emerged from the doorway of the shrine and stood there, a +curious substitute for the holy picture, looking down on her with a +wonderful light in his face. + +"Your ransom wins for you all you wish of me,--except the life of one +man," he said, and with a gesture indicated that Kit help her to her +feet. He did so, and saw that she was very white and trembling. + +Rotil looked at Perez over her head, and Perez scowled back, with all +the venom of black hate. + +"You win!--but a curse walks where she walks. Ask her? Ask Marto of +the men she put under witchcraft! Ask Conrad who had good luck till +she hated him! If you have a love, or a child, or anything dear, let +her not look hate on them, for her knife follows that look! Ask her of +the knife she set in the heart of a child for jealousy of Conrad! Ai, +general though you are, your whole army is not strong enough to guard +you from the ill luck you will take with the gift _she_ gives! She is +a woman under a curse. Ha! Look at her as I say it, for you hear the +truth. Ask the padre!" + +Kit realized that Perez was launching against her the direst weight of +evil the Mexican or Indian mind has to face. Though saints and heaven +and hell might be denied by certain daring souls, the potency of +witchcraft was seldom doubted. Men or women accused of it were shunned +as pariahs, and there had been known persons who weakened and dwindled +into death after accusation had been put against them. + +He thought of it as she cowered under each separate count of the curse +launched against her. She bent like a slender reed under the strokes +of a flail, lower and lower against his arm, but when the deadly voice +flung the final taunt at her, she straightened slowly and looked at +Rotil. + +"Yes, ask the padre--or ask me!" she said in that velvet soft voice of +utter despair. "That I sent an innocent soul to death is too true. To +my great sorrow I did it;--I would do it again! For that my life is +indeed a curse to me,--but his every other word a lie!" + +Then she took a step forward, faltered, and fell back into the +outstretched arm of Kit. + +"Take Señora Perez to the women, and come back," said Rotil. Kit noted +that even though he moved close, and bent over the white unconscious +face, he did not touch her. + +"Señora Perez!" repeated Perez contemptuously. "You are generous with +other men's names for your women! Her name is the Indian mother's +name." + +"Half Indian," corrected Rotil, "and her naming I will decide another +time." + +Kit returned, and without words proceeded to help replace the holy +picture in its niche. In the struggle with the padre, a chunk of adobe +had been knocked from the wall near the door, and he picked it up, +crumbling it to a soft powder and sprinkled it lightly over the steps +where foot prints were traceable in the dust. + +Rotil who had gone to the door to recall the guard, halted and watched +him closely. + +"Good!" he said. "You also give me a thought concerning this animal; +he will bark if he has listeners, and even the German should not +hear--one never knows! I need a cage for a few hours. You have been a +friend, and know secret things. Will you lock him in your own room and +hold the key to yourself?" + +"Surest thing you know," answered Kit though with the uncomfortable +certainty that the knowledge of too many secret things in Mexico was +not conducive to long life for the knower. "I may also assure you that +Marto is keen on giving you honest service that his one fault may be +atoned for." + +"He will get service," stated Rotil. "You saved me a good man there, +amigo." + +He flung open the door of the corridor and whistled for the guard. + +"Remove this man and take your orders from Capitan----" He halted, and +his eyes narrowed quizzically. + +"It seems we never were introduced, amigo, and we know only your joy +name of the singer, but there must be another." + +"Oh, yes, there's another, all right," returned Kit, knowing that +Conrad would enlighten Rotil if he did not. "I'm the hombre suspected +of that Granados murder committed by Conrad,--and the name is +Rhodes." + +"So? Then the scolding of these two comrades gives to you your freedom +from suspicion, eh? That is good, but--" He looked at Kit, frowning. +"See here, I comprehend badly. You told me it was the friend of your +_compadre_ who was the suspected one!" + +"Sure! I've a dandy partner across the border. He's the old man you +saw at Yaqui Spring, and I reckon I'm a fairly good friend of his. +He'd say so!" + +Rotil's face relaxed in a grin. + +"That is clever, a trick and no harm in it, but--have a care to +yourself! It is easy to be too clever, and on a trail of war no one +has time to learn if tricks are of harm or not. Take the warning of a +friend, Capitan Rhodes!" + +"You have the right of it, General. I have much to learn," agreed Kit. +"But no man goes abroad to shout the crimes he is accused of at +home,--and the story of this one is very new to me. This morning I +learned I was thought guilty, and tonight I learn who is the criminal, +and how the job was done. This is quick work, and I owe the luck of it +to you." + +"May the good luck hold!" said Rotil. "And see that the men leave you +alone as the guard of Perez. I want no listeners there." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE STORY OF DOÑA JOCASTA + + +Ramon Rotil stood a long minute after the clank of chains ceased along +the corridor; then he bolted the outer door of the chapel, and after +casting a grim satisfied smile at the screen of the faded canvas, he +opened the door of the _sala_ and went in. + +Valencia was kneeling beside Doña Jocasta and forcing brandy between +the white lips, while Elena bustled around the padre whose head she +had been bathing. A basin of water, ruby red, was evidence of the fact +that Padre Andreas was not in immediate need of the services of a +leech. He sat with his bandaged head held in his hands, and shrank +perceptibly when the general entered the room. + +Doña Jocasta swallowed some of the brandy, half strangled over it, and +sat up, gasping and white. It was Tula who offered her a cup of water, +while Valencia, with fervent expressions of gratitude to the saints, +got to her feet, eyeing Rotil with a look of fear. After the wounded +priest and the fainting Jocasta emerged from the chapel door, the two +women were filled with terror of the controlling spirit there. + +He halted on the threshold, his eyes roving from face to face, +including Tula, who stood, back against the wall, regarding him as +usual with much admiration. One thing more he must know. + +"Go you without," he said with a gesture towards the two women and the +priest. "I will speak with this lady alone." + +They all moved to the door, and after a moment of hesitation Tula was +about to follow when he stopped her. + +"You stay, girl. The Doña Jocasta may want a maid, but take yourself +over there." + +So Tula slipped silently back into the niche of the window seat where +the shadows were deepest, and Rotil moved towards the center table +dragging a chair. On the other side of the table was the couch on +which Jocasta sat, white and startled at the dismissal of the woman +and priest. + +"Be composed," he said gentling his tone as one would to soothe a +child. "There are some things to be said between us here, and too many +ears are of no advantage." + +She did not reply; only inclined her head slightly and drew herself +upright against the wall, gathering the lace _rebosa_ across her bosom +where Valencia had unfastened her garments and forgotten them in her +fear. + +"First is the matter of my debt to you. Do you know in your own mind +how great that is?" + +"I--count it as nothing, señor," she murmured. + +"That is because you do not know the great need, and have not made +count of the cases of rifles and ammunition." + +"It is true, I never looked at them. Juan Gonsalvo in dying blamed +José Perez for the shot. It was fired by another hand,--but God alone +knows! So Juan sent for me, and José never knew. The secret of Soledad +was given to me then, but I never thought to use it, until----" + +She ceased, shuddering, and he knew she was thinking of the +blood-stained priest whirled into her presence. Fallen though the +state of the priesthood might be in Mexico, there were yet women of +Jocasta's training to whom an assault on the clergy was little less +than a mortal sin. He knew that, and smiled grimly at the remembrance +of her own priestly father who had refused her in honest marriage to a +man of her mother's class, and was busily engaged haggling over the +gift price of her with José Perez when death caught him. The +bewildered girl was swept to the estate of Perez without either +marriage or gift, unless one choose to consider as gift the shelter +and food given to a younger sister and brother. + +All this went through his mind as she shrank and sighed because he had +tossed a priest from his way with as slight regard as he would the +poorest peon. She did not even know how surely the destiny of her +mother and her own destiny had been formed by a priest's craft. She +would never know, because her mind would refuse to accept it. There +were thousands like her because of their shadowed inheritance. +Revolution for the men grew out of that bondage of women, and Rotil +had isolated moments when he dreamed of a vast and blessed freedom of +the land--schools, and schools, and more schools until knowledge would +belong to the people instead of to the priests! + +But he knew it was no use to tell thoughts like that to women; they +were afraid to let go their little wooden saints and the jargon of +prayers they did not understand. The mystery of it held them! + +Thus brooded Rotil, unlearned driver of burros and general of an army +of the people! + +"We will forget all but the ammunition," he said. "It is as food to my +men, and some of them are starving there to the east; with ammunition +food can be commandeered. I knew the guns were on Soledad land, but +even a golden dream of angels would not have let me hope for as much +as you have given me. It is packed,--that room, from floor to roof +tiles. In the morning I take the trail, and there is much to be done +before I go. You;--I must think of first. Will you let me be your +confessor, and tell me any wish of your heart I may help you to?" + +"My heart has no wish left alive in it," she said. "There have been +days when I had wish for the hut under the palms where my mother +lived. A childish wish,--but other wishes are dead!" + +"There is no going back," he said, staring at the tiles, and not +looking at her. "It is of future things we must think. He said +things--Perez did, and you----" + +"Yes!" she half whispered. "There is no way but to tell of it, but--I +would ask that the child wait outside. The story is not a story for a +girl child, Ramon." + +He motioned to Tula. + +"Outside the door, but in call," he said, and without a word or look +Tula went softly out. + +There was silence for a bit between them, her hands were clasped at +full length, and she leaned forward painfully tense, looking not at +him, but past him. + +"It is not easy, but you will comprehend better than many," she said +at last. "There were three of us. There was my little brother Palemon, +who ran away last year to be a soldier--he was only fourteen. José +would not let me send searchers for him, and he may be dead. Then +there was only--only Lucita and me. You maybe remember Lucita?" + +Her question was wistful as if it would help her to even know he +remembered. He nodded his head in affirmation. + +"A golden child," he said. "I have seen pictured saints and angels in +great churches since the days in the hills, but never once so fair a +child as little Lucita." + +"Yes, white and gold, and an angel of innocence," she said musingly. +"Always she was that, always! And there was a sweetheart, Mariano +Avila, a good lad, and the wedding was to be. She was embroidering the +wedding shirt for Mariano when--God! God!" + +She got up suddenly and paced the floor, her arms hugging her +shoulders tight as if to keep from sobbing. He rose and stood +watching, but uttered no word. + +After a little she returned to the couch, and began to speak in a more +even tone. + +"There is so much to tell. Much happened. Conrad was driving José to +do many things not at first in their plans. Also there was more +drinking,--much more! It was Conrad made plans for the slave raids. He +no longer asked José's permission for anything; he gave command to the +men and José had to listen. Only one secret thing was yet hidden from +him, the hiding place of the guns from the north. José said if that +was uncovered he might as well give up his ranchos. In his heart he +could not trust Conrad. Each had a watch set on the other! Juan got +his death because he made rendezvous with the German. + +"That is how it was when the slave raid was made north of here, and +the most beautiful Indian girl killed herself somewhere in this desert +when there was no other way to escape the man;--the scar on the face +of Conrad was from her knife. It was a bad cut, and after that there +was trouble, and much drink and mad quarrels. Also it was that time +Juan Gonsalvo was shot and died from it. Juana, his sister, came in +secret for me while he could yet speak, and that was when----" + +She halted, closing her eyes as if to shut out some horror. He thought +she shrank from remembrance of how the secret of Soledad was given to +her, for Juan must have been practically a dead man when he gave it +up. After a moment she went on in the sad tone of the utterly +hopeless. + +"I speak of the mad quarrels of those two men, Ramon, but it was never +of that I had fear. The fear came each time the quarrel was done, and +they again swore to be friends, for in the new 'friend hours' of +drinking, strange things happened, strange wagers and strange gifts." + +Again she paused, and this time she lifted her eyes to Rotil. + +"Always I hated the German. I never carried a blade until after +his eyes followed me! He tried to play the prince, the great +gentleman, with me--a girl of the hills! Only once he touched my +hand, and I scoured it with sand afterwards while José laughed. But +the German did not laugh,--he only watched me! Once when José was +in a rage with me Conrad said he could make of me a great lady in his +own land if I would listen. Instead of listening I showed him my +knife. After that God only knows what he told against me, but José +became bitter--bitter, and jealous, and spies always at my back! + +"So Lucita and Mariano and I made plans. They were to marry, and we +three would steal away in secret and cross the border. That was +happiness to plan, for my life--my life was hell, so I thought! But I +had not yet learned what hell could be," she confessed drearily. + +"Tell me," he said very gently. Those who thought they knew "El +Gavilan," the merciless, would not have recognized his voice at that +moment. + +"No, I had not learned," she went on drearily. "I thought that to +carry a knife for myself made all safe--I did not know! I told you +Juana Gonsalvo came for me very secretly to hear the last words of +Juan. But I did not tell you we lived in the _casita_, little Lucita +and I. It is across a garden from the hacienda, and was once a +priest's house; that was in the days of the mother of José. It is very +sweet there under the rose vines, and it was sanctuary for us. When +José and the German had their nights of carouse we went there and +locked ourselves in. There were iron bars on the high windows, and +shutters of wood inside, so we were never afraid. I heard Conrad tell +José he was a fool not to blow it up with dynamite some day of fiesta. +It was the night after their great quarrel, and it was a terrible +time. They were pledging friendship once more in much wine. Officers +from the town were at the hacienda with women who were--well, I would +not go in, and José was wild. He came to the _casita_ and called +threats at me. I thought the German was with him, for he said Conrad +was right, and the house would be blown up with the first dynamite he +could spare,--but threats were no new thing to us! I tried to soothe +little Lucita by talk of the wedding, and all the pretty bride things +were taken out of the chest and spread on the bed; one _rebosa_ of +white I put over her shoulders, and the child was dancing to show me +she was no longer afraid----! + +"That was when Juana came to the window. I knew her voice and opened +the door. I did not want Lucita frightened again, so I did not let her +know a man was dying--only that a sick person wanted me for a +little--little minute, and I would be back. + +"I knew Juan Gonsalvo had been killed because he had been trusted far +enough,--I knew it! That thought struck me very hard, for I--I might +be the next, and I wanted first to send those two children happily out +of reach of sorrow. Strange it is that because she was first, the very +first in my heart, I went out that door in the night and for the first +time left her alone! But that is how it was; we had to be so +quick--and so silent--and it was her hand closed the door after us, +her hand on the bolt! + +"Juan Gonsalvo had only fought for life until he could see me, and +then the breath went. No one but I heard his whispers of the door of +the picture here in Soledad. He told me his death was murder, and his +last word was against Perez. It was only minutes, little minutes I +was there, and the way was not far, but when I went back through the +garden the door of the _casita_ stood wide and light streamed out! I +do not know how I was sure it was empty, but I was, and I seemed to go +dead inside, though I started to run. + +"To cross that garden was like struggling in a dream with bands about +my feet. I wake with that dream many nights--many!--I heard her before +I could reach the path. Her screams were not in the _casita_, but in +the hacienda. They were--they were--terrible! I tried to go--and then +I knew she had broken away--I could see her like a white spirit fly +back towards the light in the open door. The man following her tripped +in some way and fell, and I leaped over him to follow her. We got +inside and drew the bolt. + +"Then--But there are things not to be told--they belong to the dead! + +"Perez came there to the door and made demands for Conrad's +woman,--that is how he said it! He said she had gone to Conrad's +apartment of her own will and must go back. Lucita knelt at my feet in +her torn bridal garment and told how a woman had come as Juana had +come, and said that I wanted her. The child had no doubt, she +followed, and--and it was indeed to that drunken beast they took her! + +"José was also drunk, crazy drunk. He told me to stand away from that +door for they were coming in, also that he had made gift of Lucita to +his friend, and she must be given up. Then they began to fire guns in +the lock! It seemed a long, long time she held to me there and begged +me to save her, but it could not have been.... The lock gave way, and +only the bolt held. I clasped her close to me and whispered telling +her to pray, but I never took my eyes off the door. When I saw it +shaking, I made the sign of the cross over her, and the knife I had +carried for myself found her heart quickly! That is how I took on me +the shadow of murder, and that is why the priest threatens me with the +fires of hell if I do not repent--and I am not repenting, Ramon." + +"By God, no!" he muttered, staring into her defiant eyes. "That was a +fine thing, and your mother gave good blood to her children, Jocasta. +And then----?" + +"I laid her on the bed among her bridal laces, all white--white! Over +her breast I folded her still hands, and set a candle at her head, +though I dared not pray! The door was giving way. + +"I pushed back the bolt, also I spoke, but it did not seem me! That is +strange, but of a truth I did not know the voice I heard say: 'Enter, +her body is yours--and she no longer flees from you.' + +"'Ha! That is good sense at last!' said José, and Conrad laughed and +praised himself as a lover. + +"'I told you so!' he grunted. 'The little dear one knows that a nice +white German is not so bad!' + +"And again I heard the voice strange to me say, 'She knows nothing, +José--and she knows all!' + +"José stumbled in smiling, but Conrad, though drunk, stopped at the +door when he saw my hand with the knife. I thought my skirt covered it +as I waited for him--for the child had told me enough--I--I failed, +Ramon! His oath was a curious choked scream as I tried to reach him. +I do not know if it was the knife, or the dead girl on the bed made +him scream like that, but I knew then the German was at heart a +coward. + +"José was too strong for me, and the knife could not do its work. I +was struck, and my head muffled in a _serape_. After that I knew +nothing. + +"Days and nights went by in a locked room. I never got out of it until +I was chained hand and foot and sent north in a peon's ox-cart. Men +guarded me until Marto with other men waited for me on the trail. José +Perez could have had me killed, yes. Or he could have had me before +the judges for murder, but silence was the thing he most wanted--for +there is Doña Dolores Terain yet to be won. He has sent me north that +the General Terain, her father, will think me out of his life. One of +the guards told an alcalde I was his wife, he was sure that story +would be repeated back to Hermosillo! These are days in Sonora when no +one troubles about one woman or one child who is out of sight, and we +may be sure he and Conrad had a well-made story to tell. He knows it +is now all over with me, that I have a hate of which he is afraid, so +he does not have me shot;--he only sends me to Soledad in the +wilderness where fighting bands of the revolution cross all trails, +and his men have orders that I am not to go out of the desert alive." + +"I see!" said Rotil thoughtfully, "and--it is all gone now--the love +of him?" + +"All the love in the world is gone, amigo," she said, looking away +from him through the barred window where the night sky was growing +bright from the rising moon. "I was a child enchanted by the glory of +the world and his love words. Out of all that false glitter of life I +have walked, a blackened soul with a murderer's hand. How could love +be again with me?" + +He looked at her steadily, the slender thing of creamy skin and +Madonna eyes that had been the Dream of Youth to him, the one devotee +at an altar in whom he had believed--nothing in the humanity of the +world would ever have faith of his again! + +"That is so, Jocasta," he said at last, "you are a woman, and in the +shadow. The little golden singing one is gone out of your life, and +the new music must be different! I will think about that for you. Go +now to your sleep, for there is work of men to be done, and the night +scarce long enough for it." + +He opened the door for her and stood with bent head as she passed. His +men lounging in the patio could see that manner of deference, and +exchanged looks and comments. To the victor belong the spoils in +Mexico, and here was a sweeping victory,--yet the general looked the +other way! + +"Child, accompany the señora," he said kindly to Tula at the door. +"Chappo, bring Marto to see me. The new American capitan said he was a +man of value, and the lad was right. Work of importance waits for him +tonight." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +RAMON ROTIL DECIDES + + +Whatever the labors of Marto Cavayso for the night they appeared to +have been happy ones, for ere the dawn he came to Kit's door in great +good humor. + +"Amigo," he said jovially, "you played me a trick and took the woman, +but what the devil is that to hold a grudge for? My general has made +it all right, and we need help. You are to come." + +"Glad to," agreed Kit, "but what of this guard duty?" + +"Lock the door--there is but one key. Also the other men are not +sleeping inside the portal. It is by order of General Rotil." + +Perez awoke to glare at his false major-domo, but uttered no words. He +had not even attempted conversation with Kit since the evening before +when he stated that no Americano could fool him, and added his +conviction that the said Americano was a secret service man of the +states after the guns, and that Rotil was a fool! + +Kit found Rotil resting in the chapel, looking fagged and spent. + +"Marto is hell for work, and I had to stay by," he grumbled with a +grin. "Almost I sent for you. No other man knows, and behold!" + +Stacked on either side were packing cases of rifles and ammunition, +dozens and dozens of them. The dusty canvas was back in its place and +no sign to indicate where the cases had come from. + +"It is a great treasure chest, that," stated Rotil, "and we have here +as much as the mules can carry, for the wagons can't go with us. But I +want every case of this outside the portal before dawn comes, and it +comes quick! It means work and there are only three of us, and this +limp of mine's a trouble." + +"Well," said Kit, stripping off his coat, "if the two of you got them +up a ladder inside, and down the steps to this point I reckon three of +us can get them across that little level on record time. Say, your +crew will think it magic when guns and ammunition are let fall for you +by angels outside of the gate." + +"The thought will do no harm," said Rotil. "Also I am not sure but +that you speak true, and the magic was much needed when it came." + +They worked fast, and ere the first hint of dawn the cases were +stacked in imposing array on the plaza. And no sign by which they +could be traced. Rotil looked at them, and chuckled at the wonder the +men would feel. + +"It is time they were called, for it is a long trail, go you, Capitan, +and waken them, tell them to get ready the pack mules and get a +move." + +"All right, but if they ask questions?" + +"Look wise and say nothing! When they see the cases they will think +you either the devil or San Antonio to find what was lost in the +desert. It is a favor I am doing you, señor." + +"Sure you are! If the Indians ever get the idea that I can win guns +from out the air by hokus-pokus, I will be a big medicine chief, and +wax fat under honors in Sonora. Head me to them!" + +Rotil had seen to it that though sentinels stood guard at Soledad, +none were near enough the plaza to interfere with work of the night, +and Kit found their main camp down by the _acquia_ a quarter of a mile +away. He gave orders as directed for the pack animals and cook wagon +over which a son of the Orient presided. That stolid genius was +already slicing deer meat for broiling, and making coffee, of which he +donated a bowl to Kit, also a cart wheel of a _tortilla_ dipped in +gravy. Both were joyously accepted, and after seeing that the men were +aroused from the blankets, he returned to the hacienda full of +conjecture as to the developments to be anticipated from the night's +work. That reserve stock of ammunition might mean salvation to the +revolutionists. + +Rain had fallen somewhere to the east in the night time, and as the +stars faded there were lines of palest silver and palest gold in the +grays of dawn on the mountains. As he walked leisurely up the slight +natural terrace to the plaza, he halted a moment and laughed aloud +boyishly at a discovery of his, for he had solved the century-old +riddle of the view of El Alisal seen from the "portal" of Soledad. The +portal was not anyone of the visible doors or gateways of the old +mission, it was the hidden portal of the picture,--once leading to a +little balcony under which the neophytes had gathered for the morning +blessing and daily commands of their superiors! + +That explained its height from the floor. The door had at some later +period been sealed, and a room built against it from the side towards +the mountain. In the building of the ranch house that old strong +walled section of the mission had been incorporated as the private +chapel of some pious ranchero. It was also very, very simple after one +knew of that high portal masked by the picture, and after one traced +the line of vision from the outside and realized all that was hidden +by the old harness room and the fragmentary old walls about it. He +chuckled to think of how he would astonish Cap Pike with the story +when he got back. He also recalled that Conrad had unburdened his +heart to him with completeness because he was so confident an American +never _could_ get back! + +He was speculating on that ever-present problem when he noted that +light shone yellow in the dawn from the plaza windows, and on entering +the patio it took but a glance to see that some new thing was afoot. + +Padre Andreas, with his head upholstered in strips of the table linen, +was pacing the patio reciting in a murmuring undertone, some prayer +from a small open volume, though there was not yet light enough to +read. Valencia was bustling into the room of Doña Jocasta with an olla +of warm water, while Tula bore a copper tray with fruit and coffee. + +"This is of a quickness, but who dare say it is not an act for the +blessing of God?" the padre said replying in an absent-minded manner +to the greeting of Kit. + +"True, Padre, who can say?" agreed the latter politely, without the +slightest idea of what was meant. + +But Marto, who fairly radiated happiness since his reinstatement, +approached with the word that General Rotil would have him at +breakfast, for which time was short. + +"It is my regret that you do not ride with me, señor," said Rotil as +he motioned him to a seat. "But there is work to be done at Soledad +for which I shall give you the word. I am hearing that you would help +recover some of the poor ones driven south from Palomitas, if they be +left alive!" + +"I am pledged to that, General," stated Kit simply. + +"Who has your pledge?" + +"A dead man who cannot free me from it." + +"By God!" remarked Rotil in a surprised tone. "By God, Don Pajarito, +that is good! And it may be when that pledge is kept, you may be free +to join my children in the fight? I make you a capitan at once, +señor." + +"Perhaps, after----" + +"Sure,--after," agreed Rotil chuckling. "For I tell you there is work +of importance here, and when I am gone the thinking will be up to you! +What message did you give the muleteers?" + +"To bring the animals to the plaza, and pack for the trail all the +provisions found there." + +"Provisions is good! They will burn with curiosity. There could be fun +in that if we had time to laugh and watch them, but there is no time. +Marto!" + +Marto, on guard at the door, came forward. + +"Has the Señor Don José Perez received my message for conference?" + +"Yes, my General. Except that he wished your messenger in hell, he +will be happy to join you according to order." + +"Good!" grinned Rotil, "it is well to conduct these matters with grace +and ceremony where a lady is concerned. Take him to the _sala_; it is +illuminated in his honor. Come, señor, I want for witness an Americano +who is free from Sonora influence." + +"Am I?" queried Kit dubiously. "I'm not so sure! I seem all tangled up +with Sonora influences of all shades and varieties." + +Rotil's jocularity disappeared as he entered the sala where quill pen +and ink and some blank sheets from an old account book gave a +business-like look to the table where four candles made a radiance. + +Perez was there, plainly nervous by reason of the mocking civility of +Marto. His eyes followed Rotil,--questioning, fearful! + +The latter passed him without notice and seated himself at the table. + +"Call the padre," he said to Marto. But that was scarce needed as the +padre was hovering near the door waiting for the word. He seated +himself by the table at a motion from Rotil. + +The latter turned for the first time to Perez, and bestowed on him a +long, curious look. + +"They tell me, señor, that you were about to take as bride a lovely +lady?" + +Perez frowned in perplexity. Evidently this was the last subject he +had expected to hear touched upon. + +"Perhaps so," he said at last, "but if this is a question of ransom we +will not trouble the lady. I will arrange your figures for that." + +"This is not a matter of figures, Señor Perez. It is a marriage we are +interested in, and it is all well arranged for you. The padre here +will draw up the contract of marriage in the old form; it is better +than the manner of today. You will give him your name, the names of +your parents, the name of your parish and abode." + +"I will see you damned first!" + +"And, Padre," continued Rotil, giving no heed to that heartfelt +remark, "use less than one-third of the page, for there must be space +for the record of the bride, and below that the contract between the +happy two with all witnesses added." + +"If you think--" began Perez furiously. + +"I do not think; I know, señor! Later you also will know," Rotil +promised with grim certainty. "This marriage is of interest to me, and +has been too long delayed. It is now for you to say if you will be a +bridegroom in chains, or if it please you to have the irons off." + +"This cannot be! I tell you a marriage is not legal if----" + +"Oh, señor! Your experience is less than I thought," interrupted +Rotil, "and you are much mistaken,--much! We are all witnesses here. +Señor Rhodes will be pleased to unfasten those heavy chains to oblige +the lady. The chains might not be a pleasant memory to her. Women have +curious prejudices about such things! But it must be understood that +you stand quiet for the ceremony. If not, this gun of mine will manage +it that you stay quiet forever." + +Perez stood up, baffled and beaten, but threatening. + +"Take them off, you!" he snarled, "though it is a hell of a +ransom,--and that woman will pay. Let no one forget that her pay will +be heavy!" + +"That paying is for afterwards!" decided Rotil airily, "but here and +now we men would see a wedding before we leave Soledad. Capitan +Rhodes, will you bring in Doña Jocasta?" + +Kit, in some wonder, went on the errand, and found the women eager to +deck her with blossoms and give some joyous note to the wedding of the +dawn, but she sat cold and white with the flowers of the desert +springtime about her, and forbade them. + +"He terrifies me much in sending that word to wake me with this +morning," she protested. "I tell you I will kill myself before I live +one more day of life with José Perez! I told him all my heart in the +_sala_ last night, and it means not anything to Ramon Rotil;--he would +tie me in slavery to that man I hate!" + +"Señora, I do not know what the general means, but I know it is not +that. His work is for your service, even though appearance is +otherwise." + +"You think that?" + +"I almost know it." + +"Then I go," she decided. "I think I would have to go anyway, but the +heart would be more heavy, _Santa Maria_!--but this place of Soledad +is strange in its ways." + +It was the first time he had seen her frightened, but her mouth +trembled, and her eyes sought the floor. + +He reached out and took her hand; it was terribly cold. + +"Courage, and trust Rotil," he said reassuringly. "When you sift out +the whole situation that is about all left to any of us here in the +desert." + +He led her along the corridor, the women following. Men with pack +animals were gathering in wonder around the cases in the plaza, and +through the portal they saw the impromptu bridal procession, and fell +silent. The Americano appeared to have a hand in every game,--and that +was a matter of wonder. + +As they entered, Padre Andreas was reading aloud the brief history of +Jocasta Benicia Sandoval, eldest daughter of Teresa Sandoval and +Ignatius Sanchez of Santa Ysobel in the Sierras. Padre Andreas had +balked at writing the paternity of children of Teresa Sandoval, but a +revolver in Rotil's hand was the final persuader. + +"This is to be all an honest record for which there are witnesses in +plenty," he stated. "Teresa Sandoval had only one lover,--even though +Padre Ignatius Sanchez did call her daughters nieces of his! But the +marriage record of Señora Jocasta Sandoval shall have only truth." +Jocasta wrote her name to the statement as directed, and noted that +José had already signed. + +She did not look at him, but moved nearer to Rotil and kept her eyes +on the table. He noted her shrinking and turned to the priest. + +"Señor," he said, "these two people will write their names together on +the contract, but this is a marriage without kisses or clasping of +hands. It is a civil contract bound by word of mouth, and written +promise, under witness of the church. Read the service." + +There was a slight hesitation on the part of Perez when asked if he +would take Jocasta Sandoval as wife, but the gun of Rotil hastened his +decision, and his voice was defiantly loud. Jocasta followed quietly, +and then in a benediction which was emptiest mockery, José Perez and +Jocasta Sandoval were pronounced man and wife. + +"May I now go?" she murmured, but the contract was signed by all +present before Rotil nodded to Kit. + +"You will have the honor of conducting the Doña Jocasta Perez to +breakfast," he said. "The rest of us have other business here. Señora, +will you do us the favor to outline to this gentleman the special +tasks you would like attention given at once. There are some Indian +slaves in the south for whom the Palomitas people ask help. You are +now in a position to be of service there, and it would be a good act +with which to establish a new rule at Soledad." + +"Thanks, General Rotil," she answered, rather bewildered by the +swiftness with which he turned over to her the duties devolving upon +her newly acquired position. "I am not wise in law, but what I can I +will do." + +"And that will be nothing!" volunteered Perez. "A woman of my name +will not make herself common in the markets or law courts,--to have +her Indian ancestry cast in my teeth!" + +"As to that," said Rotil humorously, "there is not so much! The father +of Teresa Sandoval was the priestly son of a marquise of Spain! only +one drop of Indian to three of the church in the veins of Señora +Perez, so you perceive she has done honor to your house. You will +leave your name in good hands when God calls you to judgment." + +Kit noted the sudden tension of Perez at the last sentence, and a look +of furtive, fearful questioning in his eyes as he looked at Rotil, who +was folding the marriage contract carefully, wrapping it in a sheet +of paper for lack of an envelope. + +But, as squire of dames, Kit was too much occupied to give further +heed to business in the _sala_. Doña Jocasta expressed silently a +desire to get away from there as soon as might be; she looked white +and worn, and cast at Rotil a frightened imploring glance as she clung +to Kit's arm. He thought he would have to carry her before they +crossed the patio. + +"When Ramon laughs like that--" she began and then went silent, +shuddering. Kit, remembering the look in the eyes of Perez, did not +care to ask questions. + +The older women went back to the kitchen to finish breakfast and +gossip over the amazing morning, but Tula remained near Doña +Jocasta,--seeing all and her ears ever open. + +Padre Andreas followed, under orders from Rotil, who told him to do +any writing required of him by the Señora Perez, and arrange for safe +couriers south when she had messages ready. His knowledge of villages +and rancheros was more dependable than that of the vaqueros; he would +know the names of safe men. + +Doña Jocasta sighed, and looked from one to the other appealingly. + +"It is much, very much to plan for before the sun is showing," she +murmured. "Is there not some little time to think and consider?" + +"Even now the men of Ramon Rotil are packing the beasts for the +trail," said the priest, "and he wants all your plans and desires +stated before he goes east." + +"_My_ desires!" and her smile held bitterness as she turned to Kit. +"You, señor, have never seen the extent of the Perez holdings in +Sonora. They are so vast that one simple woman like me would be lost +in any plans of change there. José Perez meant what he said;--no woman +can take control while he lives." + +"Still, there are some things a woman could do best," ventured Kit, +"the things of mercy;" and he mentioned the Palomitas slaves---- + +"That is true. Also I am in debt for much friendship, and this child +of Palomitas must have the thing she asks. Tell me the best way." + +"Learn from Perez which ranch of General Estaban Terain shelters the +political prisoners taken from the district of Altar," suggested Kit. +"Either Perez or Conrad can tell." + +Doña Jocasta looked at the priest. + +"José Perez will hate you for this marriage, and we must seek safety +for you in some other place," she said kindly, "but you are the one +most able to learn this thing. Will it please you to try?" + +Padre Andreas went out without a word. In his heart he resented the +manner of the marriage ceremony, and scarce hoped Perez would be +acquiescent or disposed to further converse, and he personally had no +inclination to ask help of the General Rotil. + +He was surprised as he crossed the patio to see Perez, still free from +chains, walking through the portal to the plaza with Marto Cavayso +beside him. He was led past the ammunition cases, and the men in their +jubilant work of packing the mules. Far out up the valley to the north +a cloud of dust caught the red glow of sunrise, and the priest knew +the vaqueros with the Soledad cattle were already on the trail for the +main body of revolutionists in the field. + +Saddle horses were held a little apart in the plaza, and Padre Andreas +hastened his steps lest they mount and be gone, but Marto spoke to him +sharply. + +"Walk in front to do your talking," he suggested. "This gentleman is +not inviting company for his _pasear_." + +José Perez turned a startled, piercing look on the priest. + +"Did Rotil send you?" he demanded. + +"No, señor, I came back to ask a simple thing concerning the Altar +people who went south for Yucatan. Can you give me the name of the +ranch where they are held?" + +"I can,--but I give nothing for nothing!" he said bitterly. "Already I +am caught in a trap by that marriage, and I will see that the +archbishop hears of your share in it. Nothing for nothing!" + +"Yet there may be some service I can give, or send south, for you," +said the priest. + +Perez regarded him doubtfully. + +"Yes--you might get a message to General Terain that I am a prisoner, +on my own estate--if Rotil does not have you killed on the road!" + +"I could try," agreed the priest. "I--I might secure permission." + +"Permission?" + +"It is true, señor. I could not attempt it without the word of General +Rotil," announced Padre Andreas. "Of what use to risk the life of a +courier for no purpose? But I make a bargain: if you will tell which +ranch the Altar Indians were driven to I will undertake to get word +for you to a friend. Of course I can get the information from the +German if you say no." + +"Damn the German!" swore Perez. + +"Good Father," said Marto, "you halt us on the way to join the +advance, and we have no mind to take all the dust of the mule train. +Make your talk of fewer words." + +"Shall I go to the German?" repeated the priest. + +"No,--let him rot alone! The plantation is Linda Vista, and Conrad +lied to General Terain to get them housed there. He thought they were +rebels who raided ranches in Altar,--political prisoners. Take General +Terain word that I am a prisoner of the revolutionists, and----" + +"Señor, the sun is too high for idle talk," said Marto briefly, "and +your saddle waits." + +The priest held the stirrup for José Perez, who took the courtesy as a +matter of course, turning in the saddle and casting a bitter look at +the sun-flooded walls of Soledad. + +"To marry a mistress and set her up as the love of another lover--_two_ +other lovers!--is not the game of a man," he growled moodily. "If it was +to do over, I----" + +"Take other thoughts with you," said Padre Andreas sadly, "and my son, +go with God!" + +He lifted his hand in blessing, and stood thus after they had turned +away. Perez uttered neither thanks nor farewell. + +The men, busy with the final packing, stared after him with much +curiosity, and accosted the priest as he paced thoughtfully back to +the portal. + +"Padre, is this ammunition a gift of Don José, or is it magic from the +old monks who hid the red gold of El Alisal and come back here to +guard it and haunt Soledad?" inquired one of the boldest. + +"There are no hauntings, and that red gold has led enough men astray +in the desert. It is best forgotten." + +"But strange things do come about," insisted another man. "Marto +Cavayso swore he had witchcraft put on him by the green, jewel eyes of +Doña Jocasta, and you see that since she follows our general he has +the good luck, and this ammunition comes to him from God knows +where!" + +"It may be the Americano knows," hazarded the first speaker. "He took +her from Marto, and rides ever beside her. Who proves which is the +enchanter?" + +"It is ill work to put the name of 'enchantment' against any mortal," +chided the priest. + +"That may be," conceded the soldier, "but we have had speech of this +thing, and look you!--Doña Jocasta rode in chains until the Americano +crossed her trail, and Don Ramon, and all of us, searched in vain for +the American guns, until the Americano rode to Soledad! Enchantment or +not, he has luck for his friends!" + +"As you please!" conceded the priest with more indifference than he +felt. The Americano certainly did not belong to Soledad, and the +wonder was that Ramon Rotil gave him charge of so beauteous a lady. +Padre Andreas could easily perceive how the followers of Rotil thought +it enchantment, or any other thing of the devil. + +Instinctively he disapproved of Rhodes' position in the group; his +care-free, happy smile ill fitted the situation at Soledad. Before the +stealing away of Doña Jocasta she had been as a dead woman who walked; +her sense of overwhelming sin was gratifying in that it gave every +hope of leading to repentance, but on her return the manner of her +behavior was different. She rode like a queen, and even the marriage +was accepted as a justice! Padre Andreas secretly credited the heretic +Americano with the change, and Mexican girls put no such dependence on +a man outside of her own family,--unless that man was a lover! + +He saw his own influence set aside by the stranger and the rebel +leader, and with Doña Jocasta as a firebrand he feared dread and awful +things now that Rotil had given her power. + +He found her with bright eyes and a faint flush in her cheeks over the +letter Kit was writing to the south. It was her first act as the wife +of José Perez, and it was being written to the girl whom Perez had +hoped to marry! + +Kit got considerable joy in framing her request as follows: + + To + Señorita Dolores Terain, + Linda Vista Rancho, Sonora, + + HONORED SEÑORITA: + + As a woman who desires to secure justice and mercy for some poor + peons of our district of Altar, I venture to address you, to whom + womanly compassion must belong as does beauty and graciousness. + + This is a work for the charity of women, rather than debates in + law courts by men. + + I send with this the names of those poor people who were herded + south for slavery by Adolf Conrad, a German who calls himself + American. To your father, the illustrious General Terain, this man + Conrad represented these poor people as rebels and raiders of this + region. It is not true. They were simple peaceful workers on + little ranches. + + They were given shelter at your rancho of Linda Vista to work for + their food until they could be deported, but I send with this a + payment of gold with which to repay any care they have been, or + any debts incurred. If it is not enough, I pledge myself to the + amount you will regard as justice. + + Dear Señorita, my husband, Don José, warns me that women cannot + manage such affairs, but we can at least try. Parents wait here + for sons and daughters, and little children wait for their + parents. Will you aid in the Christian task of bringing them + together quickly? + + At your service with all respect, + JOCASTA BENICIA PEREZ, + Soledad Rancho, Sonora. + +"But you write here of gold sent by messenger, señor!--I have no gold, +only words can I send," protested Doña Jocasta helplessly. + +"Ah, but the words are more precious than all," Kit assured her. "It +is the right word we have waited for, and you alone could give it, +señora. These people have held the gold ransom while waiting that +word, and this child can bring it when the time is right." + +Doña Jocasta regarded Tula doubtfully; she certainly gave no +appearance of holding wealth to redeem a pueblo. + +"You,--the little one to whom even the Deliverer listens?" she said +kindly. "But the wealth of a little Indian ranch would not seem riches +to this illustrious lady, the Doña Dolores Terain." + +"Yet will I bring riches to her or to you, Excellencia, if only my +mother and my sister are coming again to Palomitas," said Tula +earnestly. + +"But whence comes wealth to you in a land where there is no longer +wealth for anyone?" + +Kit listened with little liking for the conversation after the padre +entered. It was a direct question, and to be answered with directness, +and he watched Tula anxiously lest she say the wrong thing. But she +told the straight truth in a way to admit of no question. + +"Long ago my father got gold for sacred prayer reasons; he hid it +until he was old; when he died he made gift of it to me that my mother +and sister buy freedom. That is all, Excellencia, but the gold is good +gold." + +She slipped her hand under her skirt and unfastened the leather +strings of the burro-skin belt,--it fell heavily on the tile floor. +She untied the end of it and poured a handful on the table. + +"You see, señora, there is riches enough to go with your words, but +never enough to pay for them." + +"_Santa Maria!_" cried the amazed priest. "That is _red_ gold! In what +place was it found?" + +Tula laid her hand over the nuggets and faced him. + +"That secret was the secret of Miguel who is dead." + +"But--some old Indian must know----" + +Tula shook her head with absolute finality. + +"No old Indian in all the world knows that!" she said. "This was a +secret of the youth of Miguel, and only when old and dying did he +give it for his people. This I,--Tula, child of Miguel tell you." + +Padre Andreas looked from the girl to Kit and back again, knowing that +the death of Miguel was a recent thing since it had occurred after the +stealing of the women. + +"Where did your father die?" he asked. + +"In the hills of the desert." + +"And--who had absolving and burial of him?" + +"Absolving I do not know, but this man, his friend, had the making of +the grave," she said, indicating Kit, and the eyes of the priest +rested again on Kit with a most curious searching regard. Evidently +even this little Indian stray of the desert arrived at good fortune +under the friendship of the American stranger,--and it was another +added to the list of enchantings! + +"Ah," he murmured meaningly, "then this strange señor also has the +knowing of this Indian gold? Is it truly gold of the earth, or +witches' gold of red clay?" and he went nearer, reaching his hand to +touch it. + +"Why all this question when the child offers it for a good Christian +use?" demanded Doña Jocasta. "See, here is a piece of it heavy enough +to weigh down many lumps of clay, and north or south it will prove +welcome ransom. It is a miracle sent by the saints at this time." + +"Would the saints send the red gold of El Alisal to a heretic instead +of a son of the church?" he asked. "And this is that gold for which +the padres of Soledad paid with their lives long ago. There was never +such red gold found in Sonora as that, and the church had its own +claim on it;--it is mission gold!" + +"No, not now," said Tula, addressing Doña Jocasta,--"truly not now! +They claimed it long ago, but the holding of it was a thing not for +them. Fire came out of the clouds to kill them there, and no one saw +them alive anymore, and no other priest ever found the gold. This much +is found by Miguel, for a dead man's promise!" + +"The girl speaks straight, señora," ventured Kit. "I have already told +General Rotil of the promise, but no good will come of much talk over +the quality of gold for that ransom. To carry that message south and +bring back the women is a task for council, but outside these walls, +no tongue must speak of the gold, else there would be no safety for +this maid." + +"Yet a priest may ask how an Americano comes far from his home to +guard gold and a maid in Sonora?" retorted Padre Andreas. "Strange +affairs move these days in Altar--guns, ammunition, and the gold of +dead men! In all these things you have a say, señor, yet you are but +young in years, and----" + +"Padre," interrupted Doña Jocasta with a note of command, "he was old +enough to save this child from starvation in the desert, and he was +old enough to save me when even you could no longer save me, so why +object because he has guarded wealth, and means to use it in a way of +mercy? Heretic he may be, but he has the trust of Ramon Rotil, and of +me. Also it is forbidden to mention this belt or what it covers. I +have given my word, and this is no time to halt the task we have set. +It would better serve those lost people if you help us find a +messenger who is safe." + +It was the first time the new Señora Perez assumed a tone of +authority at Soledad, and Kit Rhodes thanked his lucky stars that she +was arrayed with him instead of against him, for her eyes glowed green +lightning on the priest whose curiosity had gotten him into trouble. +Kit could not really blame him, for there was neither priest nor peon +of the land who had not had visions of conquest if only the red gold +of the Alisal should be conveniently stumbled upon! + +And Tula listened to the words of Doña Jocasta as she would have +listened to a god. + +"I go," she said eagerly. "The trail it is strange to me, but I will +find that way. I think I find in the dark that trail on which the +mother of me was going!" + +Doña Jocasta patted the hand of the girl, but looked at Kit. "That +trail is not for a maid," she said meaningly. "I came over it, and +know." + +"I think it is for me," he answered. "The promise was mine. I know +none of the people, but the names are written. It is eighty miles." + +"Three days." + +"More, double that," he said thoughtfully, and the eyes of Tula met +his in disapproval. It was the merest hint of a frown, but it served. +She could do the errand better than she could guard the rest of the +gold. If her little belt was lost it was little, but if his store +should be found it would be enough to start a new revolution in +Sonora;--the men of Rotil and the suspicious padre would unite on the +treasure trail. It was the padre who gave him most uneasiness, because +the padre was guessing correctly! The dream of a mighty church of the +desert to commemorate all the ruined missions of the wilderness, was +a great dream for the priest of a little pueblo, and the eyes of the +Padre Andreas were alight with keen,--too keen, anticipation. + +"I go," stated Tula again. "No other one is knowing my people." + +"That is a true word," decided Padre Andreas, "a major-domo of evil +mind at Linda Vista could take the gold and send north whatever unruly +vagabonds he had wished to be free from. Let the maid go, and I can +arrange to see her there safe." + +This kind offer did not receive the approval deserved. Kit wished no +man on the trail with Tula who knew of the gold, and Tula herself was +not eager to journey into unknown regions with a man of religion, who +had already learned from Valencia of the elaborate ceremony planned +for a "Judas day!" Little though Tula knew of churchly observances, +she had an instinctive fear that she would be detained in the south +too long to officiate in this special ceremony on which she had set +her heart. + +"Not with a priest will I go," she announced. "He would shut me in a +school, and in that place I would die. Clodomiro can go, or Isidro, +who is so good and knowing all our people." + +"That is a good thought," agreed Doña Jocasta, who had no desire that +Padre Andreas meet the family of Terain and recount details of the +Perez marriage,--not at least until she had worn her official title a +little longer and tested the authority it gave her. "That is a good +thought, for I have no wish that my house be left without a priest. +Señor Rhodes, which man is best?" + +But before Kit could answer Ramon Rotil stood in the door, and his +eyes went to the papers on the table. Tula had recovered her belt, and +fastened it under the _manta_ she wore. + +"So! you are working in council, eh?" he asked. "And have arrived at +plans? First your own safety, señora?" + +"No, señor,--first the bringing back of the people driven off by the +slavers. The letter is written; this child is to take it because the +people are her people, but a safe man is wanted, and these two I +cannot let go. You know José Perez, and his wife must not be without a +man of religion as guard, yet he alone would not save me from others, +hence the American señor----" + +"Sure, that is a safe thought," and he took the seat offered by Kit. +But he shook his head after listening to their suggestions. + +"No. Isidro is too old, and Clodomiro with his flying ribbands of a +would-be lover, is too young for that trail. You want--you want----" + +He paused as his mind evidently went searching among his men for one +dependable. Then he smiled at Kit. + +"You saved me the right man, señor! Who would be better than the +foreman of Soledad? Would it not be expected that Señora Perez would +send the most important of the ranchmen? Very well then. Marto is +safe, he will go." + +"But Marto--" began Padre Andreas, when Rotil faced about, staring him +into silence. + +"Marto will return here to Soledad today," he said, and the face of +the priest went pale. It was as if he had said that the task of Marto +on the east trail would be ended. + +"Yes, Marto Cavayso has been at Hermosillo," assented Doña Jocasta. +"He will know all the ways to arrive quickly." + +"That will be attended to. Will you, señor, see to it that horse and +provision are made ready for the trail? And you, señora? Soledad in +the wilderness is no good place for a lady. When this matter of the +slaves is arranged, will it please you to ride south, or north? Troops +of the south will be coming this way;--it will be a land of soldiers +and foraging." + +"How shall I answer that?" murmured Doña Jocasta miserably. "In the +south José Perez may make life a not possible thing for me,--and in +the north I would be a stranger." + +"José Perez will not make trouble; yet trouble might be made,--at +first," said Rotil avoiding her eyes, and turning again to Kit. +"Señor, by the time Marto gets back from the south, the pack mules +will be here again. Until they are gone from Soledad I trust you in +charge of Señora Perez. She must have a manager, and there is none so +near as you." + +"At her service," said Kit promptly, "but this place----" + +"Ai, that is it," agreed Rotil. "North is the safer place for women +alone, and you--did you not say that on Granados there were friends?" + +"Why, yes, General," replied Kit. "My friend, Captain Pike, is +somewhere near, and the owner of Granados is a lady, and among us +we'll do our best. But it's a hard trip, and I've only one gun." + +"You will take your choice of guns, horses, or men," decided Rotil. +"That is your work. Also you will take with you the evidence of Señora +Perez on that matter of the murder. The padre can also come in on +that,--so it will be service all around." + +Chappo came to the door to report that all was ready for the trail, +and Rotil stood up, and handed to Doña Jocasta the marriage contract. + +"Consider the best way of protecting this until you reach an alcalde +and have a copy made and witnessed," he said warningly. "It protects +your future. The fortunes of war may take all the rest of us, but the +wife of Perez needs the record of our names; see to it!" + +She looked up at him as if to speak, but no words came. He gazed +curiously at her bent head, and the slender hands over the papers. In +his life of turmoil and bloodshed he had halted to secure for her the +right to a principality. In setting his face to the east, and the +battle line, he knew the chance was faint that he would ever see her +again, and his smile had in it a touch of self-derision at the +thought,--for after all he was nothing to her! + +"So--that is all," he said, turning away. "You come with me a little +ways, señor, and to you, señora, _adios_!" + +"Go with God, Ramon Rotil," she murmured, "and if ever a friend is of +need to you, remember the woman to whom you gave justice and a name!" + +"_Adios_," he repeated, and his spurs tinkled as he strode through the +patio to the portal where the saddle horses were waiting. The pack +mules were already below the mesa, and reached in a long line over the +range towards the cañon of the eastern trail. + +"You have your work cut out," he said to Kit. "For one thing, Marto +Cavayso will carry out orders, but you must not have him enter a room +where Doña Jocasta may be. It would be to offend her and frighten him. +He swears to the saints that he was bewitched. That is as may be, but +it is an easy way out! When the pack mules come back, and Marto is +here, it is for you two to do again the thing we did last night. I may +need Soledad on another day, and would keep all its secrets. After you +have loaded the last of the guns it is best for you to go quickly. +Here is a permit in case you cross any land held by our men;--it is +for you, your family, and all your baggage without molestation. Señora +Perez has the same. This means you can take over the border any of the +furnishings of Soledad required by the lady for a home elsewhere. The +wagons sent north by Perez will serve well for that, and they are +hers." + +"But if he should send men of his own to interfere----" + +"He won't," stated Rotil. "You are capitan, and Soledad is under +military rule. There is only one soul here over which your word is not +law. I have given the German Judas to your girl, and the women can +have their way with him. He is as a dead man; call her." + +There was no need, for Tula had followed at a discreet distance, and +from beside a pillar gazed regretfully after her hero, the Deliverer, +whom she felt every man should follow. + +"_Oija, muchacha!_" he said as Kit beckoned her forward, "go to +Fidelio. He is over there filling the cantins at the well. Tell him to +give you the key to the quarters of El Aleman, and hearken you!--I +wash my hands of him from this day. If you keep him, well, but if he +escapes, the loss is to you. I go, and not again will Ramon Rotil trap +a Judas for your hellishness." + +Tula sped to Fidelio, secured the key and was back to hold the stirrup +of Rotil as he was helped to the saddle. + +"If God had made me a man instead of a maid, I would ride the world as +your soldier, my General," she said, holding the key to her breast as +an amulet. + +"Send your lovers instead," he said, and laughed, "for you will have +them when you get more beef on your bones. _Adios_, soldier girl!" + +She peered up at him under her mane of black hair. + +"Myself,--I think that is true," she stated gravely, "also my lovers, +when they come, must follow you! When I see my own people safe in +Palomitas it may be that I, Tula, will also follow you,--and the help +of the child of Miguel may not be a little help, my General." + +Kit Rhodes alone knew what she meant. Her intense admiration for the +rebel leader of the wilderness had brought the glimmer of a dream to +her;--the need of gold was great as the need of guns, and for the +deliverer of the tribes what gift too great? + +But the others of the guard laughed at the crazy saying of the brown +wisp of a girl. They had seen women of beauty give him smiles, and +more than one girl follow his trail for his lightest word, but to none +of them did it occur that this one called by him the young crane, or +the possessor of many devils, could bring more power to his hand than +a regiment of the women who were comrades of a light hour. + +But her solemnity amused Rotil, and he swept off his hat with +exaggerated courtesy. + +"I await the day, Tulita. Sure, bring your lovers,--and later your +sons to the fight! While you wait for them tell Marto Cavayso he is to +have a care of you as if you were the only child of Ramon Rotil! I too +will have a word with him of that. See to it, Capitan of the roads, +and _adios!_" + +He grinned at the play upon the name of Rhodes, and whirled his horse, +joining his men, who sat their mounts and watched at a little +distance. + +Within the portal was gathered all those left of the household of +Soledad to whom the coming and the going of the revolutionary leader +was the great event of their lives, and all took note of the title of +"Capitan" and the fact that the Americano and the Indian girl had his +last spoken words. + +They had gone scarce a mile when Fidelio spurred his horse back and +with Mexican dash drew him back on his haunches as Kit emerged from +the corridor. + +"General Rotil's compliments," he said with a grin, "and Marto will +report to you any event requiring written record,--and silence!" + +"Say that again and say it slow," suggested Kit. + +"That is the word as he said it, Capitan, 'requiring the writing of +records, and--silence!'" + +"I get you," said Kit, and with a flourish and a clatter, Fidelio was +soon lost in the dust. + +Kit was by no means certain that he did "get" him. He felt that he had +quite enough trouble without addition of records and secrecy for acts +of the Deliverer. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE RETURN OF TULA + + +The sentinel palms of Soledad were sending long lines of shadows +toward the blue range of the Sierras, and gnarled old orange trees in +the ancient mission garden drenched the air with fragrance from many +petals. + +There had been a sand storm the day before, followed by rain, and all +the land was refreshed and sparkling. The pepper trees swung tassels +of bloom and the flaming coral of the occotilla glowed like tropic +birds poised on wide-reaching wands of green. Meadow larks echoed each +other in the tender calls of nesting time, and from the jagged peaks +on the east, to far low hills rising out of a golden haze in the west, +there was a great quiet and peace brooding over the old mission +grounds of the wilderness. + +Doña Jocasta paced the outer corridor, watched somberly by Padre +Andreas on whom the beauty of the hour was lost. + +"Is your heart turned stone that you lift no hand, or speak no word +for the soul of a mortal?" he demanded. "Already the terrible women of +Palomitas are coming to wait for their Judas, and this is the morning +of the day!" + +"It is no work of mine, Padre," she answered wearily. "I am +sick,--here!--that the beast has been all these days and nights under +a roof near me. I know how the women feel, though I think I would not +wait, as they have waited,--for Good Friday." + +"It is murder in your heart to harbor such wickedness of thought," he +insisted. "Your soul is in jeopardy that you do not contemplate +forgiveness. Even though a man be a heretic, a priest must do his +office when it comes to a sentence of death. After all--he is a +human." + +"I do not know that," replied Doña Jocasta thoughtfully, and she sank +into a rawhide chair in the shade of a pillar. "Listen, Padre. I am +not learned in books, but I have had new thoughts with me these days. +Don Pajarito is telling me of los Alemanos all over the world;--souls +they have not, and serpents and toads are their mothers! Here in +Mexico we have our flag from old Indian days with the eagle and the +snake. Once I heard scholars in Hermosillo talk about that; they said +it was from ancient times of sky worship, and the bird was a bird of +stars,--also the serpent." + +Padre Andreas lifted his brows in derision at the childishness of +Indian astrology. + +"Myself, I think the Indian sky knowers had the prophet sight," went +on Doña Jocasta. "They make their eagle on the standard and they put +the serpent there of the reason that some day a thing of poison would +crawl to the nest of the eagle of Mexico to comrade there. It has +crawled over the seas for that, Padre, and the beak and claws and wing +of the eagle must all do battle to kill the head and the heart of +it;--for the heart of a serpent dies hard, and they breed and hatch +their eggs everywhere in the soil of Mexico. Señor Padre, the Indian +women of Palomitas are right!--the girl Tula is a child of the eagle, +and her stroke at the heart of the German snake will be a true stroke. +I will not be one to give the weak word for mercy." + +Her gaze, through half-closed lids, was directed towards the far trail +of the cañon where moving dots of dark marked the coming of the +Palomitas women. A ray of reflected light touched the jewel green of +her eyes like shadowed emeralds in their dusky casket, and the priest, +constantly proclaiming the probable loss of her soul, could not but +bring his glance again and again to the wondrous beauty of her. She +had bloomed like a royal rose in the days of serene rest at Soledad. + +"If the heretic Americano gives you these thoughts which are not +Christian, it will be a day of good luck when you see the last of +him," was his cold statement as he watched her. "My mind is not well +satisfied as to his knowledge of secret things here in Sonora. The +Indians say he is an enchanter or Ramon Rotil would never have left +him here as capitan with you,--and that belt of gold----" + +"But it was not the belt of the Americano!" + +"No, but he _knows_! I tell you that gold is of the gold lost before +we were born,--the red gold of the padres' mine!" + +"But the old women are telling me that the gold was Indian gold long +before Spanish priests saw the land! Does the Indian girl then not +have first right?" + +"None has right ahead of the church, since all those pagans are under +the rule of church! They are benighted heathen who must come under +instruction and authority, else are they as beasts of the field." + +"Still,--if the girl makes use of her little heritage for a pious +purpose----" + +"Her intent has nothing to do with that secret knowledge of the +Americano!" he insisted. "Has he bewitched you also that you have so +little interest in a mine of gold in anyone of the arroyas of your +land?" + +She smiled at that without turning her head. + +"If a mountain of gold should be uncovered at Soledad, of what +difference to me? Would he let a woman make traffic with it? Surely +not." + +"He?" + +"José Perez,--who else?" + +Padre Andreas closed his eyes a moment and arose, but did not answer. +He paced the length of the corridor and back before he spoke. + +"It is for you to ask the Americano that the prisoner be given a +priest if he wants prayer," he said returning to their original +subject of communication. "It is a duty that I tell you this; it is +your own house." + +"Señor Rhodes is capitan," she returned indifferently. "It is his task +to give me rest here to prepare for that long north journey. I do not +rest in my mind or my soul when you talk to me of the German snake, so +I will ask that you speak with Capitan Rhodes. He has the knowing of +Spanish." + +"Too much for safety of us," commented the priest darkly. "Who is to +say how he uses it with the Indians? It is well known that the +American government would win all this land, and work with the Indians +that they help win it." + +"So everyone is saying in Hermosillo," agreed Doña Jocasta, "but the +American capitan has not told me lies of any other thing, and he is +saying that is a lie made by foreign people. Also--" and she looked at +him doubtfully, "the man Conrad cursed your name yesterday as a damned +Austrian whose country had cost his country much." + +"My mother was not Austrian!" retorted Padre Andreas, "and all my +childhood was in Mexico. But how did Conrad know?" + +"He told Elena it was his business to know such things. The Germans +help send many Mexican priests north over the border. He had the +thought that you are to go with me for some reason political of which +I knew nothing!" + +"I? Did _I_ come in willingness to this wilderness? From the beginning +to the end I am as a prisoner here;--as much a prisoner as is El +Aleman behind the bars! No horse is mine;--if I walk abroad for my own +health a vaquero ever is after me that I ride back with no fatigue to +myself! It is the work of the heretic Americano who will have his own +curse for it!" + +He fumed nervously over the unexpected thrust of Austrian ancestry, +and the beautiful eyes of Doña Jocasta regarded him with awakened +interest. She had never thought of his politics, or possible +affiliations, but after all it was true that he had been stationed at +a pueblo where everything on wheels must pass coming north towards +the border, also that was a very small pueblo to support a padre, and +perhaps---- + +"Padre," she said after a moment, "but for the Americano you would be +a dead man. Think you what Ramon would have done to a priest who let a +vaquero carry me to the ranges! Also I came back to Soledad because +the Americano told me it was only duty and justice that I come for +your sake as Ramon has no liking for priests. You see, señor, our +American capitan of Soledad is not so bad;--he had a care of you." + +"Too much a care of me!" retorted the priest. "Know you not that the +door of my sleeping room is bolted each night, and unbolted at dawn? +He laughs with a light heart, and sings foolishly,--your new +Americano; but under that cloak of the simple his plotting is not +idle!" + +"As to that, I think his light heart is not so light these days," said +Doña Jocasta. "Two days now the Indian girl and Marto Cavayso could +have been back in Soledad, and he is looking, looking ever over that +empty trail. Before the sun was above the sierra today he was far +there coming across the mesa." + +"A man does not go in the dark to look for a trail," said Padre +Andreas meaningly. "He unbolted my door on his return, and to me he +looked as a man who has done work that was heavy. What work is there +for him to do alone in the hills?" + +"Who knows? A horse herd is somewhere in a cañon beyond. There are +colts, and the storm of yesterday might make trouble. The old father +of Elena says that storm has not gone far and will come back! And +while the Americano rides to learn of colts, and strays, he also +picks the best mules for our journey to the border." + +"Does he find the best mules with packs already on their backs in the +cañons?" demanded the padre skeptically. "From my window I saw them +return." + +"I also," confessed Doña Jocasta amused at the persistence of +suspicion, "and the load was the water bags and _serape_! Does any but +a fool go into the wilderness without water?" + +"You cover him well, señora, but I think it was not horses he went in +the night to count," said the priest sarcastically. "Gold in the land +is to him who finds it,--and I tell you the church will hear of that +red gold belt from me! Also there will be a new search for it! If it +is here the church will see that it does not go with American +renegades across the border!" + +"Padre, all the land speaks peace today, yet you are as a threatening +cloud over Soledad!" + +"I speak in warning, not threat,--and I am not the only cloud in the +sky. The women of vengeance are coming beyond there where the willows +are green." + +Doña Jocasta looked the way he pointed, and stood up with an +exclamation of alarm. + +"Clodomiro! Call Clodomiro!" she said hurriedly, and as the priest +only stared at her, she sped past him to the portal and called the boy +who came running from the patio. + +She pointed as the priest had pointed. + +"They are strangers, they do not know," she said. "Kill a horse, but +meet them!" + +His horse was in the plaza, and he was in the saddle before she +finished speaking, digging in his heels and yelling as though leading +a charge while the frightened animal ran like a wild thing. + +Doña Jocasta stood gazing after him intently, shading her eyes with +her hand. Women came running out of the patio and Padre Andreas stared +at her. + +"What new thing has given you fear?" he asked in wonder. + +"No new thing,--a very old thing of which Elena told me! That green +strip of willow is the edge of a quicksand where no one knows the +depth. The women are thinking to make a short path across, and the one +who leads will surely go down." + +The priest stared incredulous. + +"How a quicksand and no water?" he asked doubtfully. + +"There _is_ water,--hidden water! It comes under the ground from the +hills. In the old, old days it was a wide well boiling like a kettle +over a fire, also it was warm! Then sand storms filled that valley and +filled the well. It is crusted over, but the boiling goes on far +below. Elena said not even a coyote will touch that cañoncita though +the dogs are on his trail. The Indians say an evil spirit lives under +there, but the women of Mesa Blanca and Palomitas do not know the +place." + +"It should have a fence,--a place like that." + +"It had, but the wind took it, and, as you see, Soledad is a forgotten +place." + +They watched Clodomiro circle over the mesa trail and follow the women +down the slope of the little valley. It was fully three miles away, +yet the women could be seen running in fear to the top of the mesa +where they cast themselves on the ground resting from fright and +exertion. + +Quite enjoying his spectacular dash of rescue, Clodomiro cantered back +along the trail, and when he reached the highest point, turned looking +to the southeast where, beyond the range, the old Yaqui trail led to +the land of despair. + +He halted there, throwing up his hand as if in answer to some signal, +and then darted away, straight across the mesa instead of toward the +buildings. + +"Tula has come!" said Doña Jocasta in a hushed voice of dread. "She +has come, and Señor Rhodes is needed here. That coming of Tula may +bring an end to quiet days,--like this!" + +She sighed as she spoke, for the week had been as a space of restful +paradise after the mental and physical horrors she had lived through. + +In a half hour Clodomiro came in sight again just as Kit rode in from +the west. + +"Get horses out of the corrals," he called, "all of them. That trail +has been long even from the railroad." + +It was done quickly, and the vaqueros rode out as Clodomiro reached +the plaza. + +"_Tula?_" asked Kit. + +"Tula is as the living whose mind is with the dead," said the boy. +"Many are sick, some are dead,--the mother of Tula died on the trail +last night." + +"Good God!" whispered Kit. "After all that hell of a trail, to save no +one for herself! Where is Marto?" + +"Marto walks, and sick ones are on his horse. I go back now that Tula +has this horse." + +"No, I will go. Stay you here to give help to the women. Bring out +beds in every corridor. Bring straw and blankets when the beds are +done." + +Doña Jocasta put out her hand as he was about to mount. + +"And I? What task is mine to help?" she asked, and Kit looked down at +her gravely. + +"Señora, you have only to be yourself, gracious and kind of heart. +Also remember this is the first chance in the lands of Soledad to show +the natives they have not alone a padrona, but a protecting friend. In +days to come it may be a memory of comfort to you." + +Then he mounted, and led the string of horses out to meet the exiles. +While she looked after him murmuring, "In days to come?" + +And to the padre she said, "I had ceased to think of days to come, for +the days of my life had reached the end of all I could see or think. +He gives hope even in the midst of sadness,--does the Americano." + +Kit met the band where the trail forked to Palomitas and Mesa Blanca. +Some wanted to go direct to their own homes and people, while Marto +argued that food and rest and a priest awaited them at Soledad, and +because of their dead, they should have prayers. + +Tula said nothing. She sat on the sand, and caressed a knife with a +slightly curved blade,--a knife not Mexican, yet familiar to Kit, and +like a flash he recalled seeing one like it in the hand of Conrad at +Granados. + +She did not even look up when he halted beside her though the others +welcomed with joy the sight of the horses for the rest of the trail. + +"Tula!" he said bending over her, "Tula, we come to welcome you,--my +horse is for your riding." + +She looked up when he touched her. + +"Friend of me," she murmured wistfully, "you made me put a mark at +that place after we met in the first dawn,--so I was knowing it well. +Also my mother was knowing,--and it was where she died last night +under the moon. See, this is the knife on which Anita died in that +place. It is ended for us--the people of Miguel, and the people of +Cajame!" + +"Tula, you have done wonderful things, many deeds to make the spirit +of Miguel proud. Is that not so, my friends?" and he turned to the +others, travel-stained, sick and weary, yet one in their cries of the +gratitude they owed to Tula and to him, by which he perceived that +Tula had, for her own reasons, credited him with the plan of ransom. + +They tried brokenly to tell of their long fear and despair in the +strangers' land,--and of sickness and deaths there. Then the miracle +of Tula walking by the exalted excellencia of that great place, and +naming one by one the Palomitas names, forgetting none;--until all who +lived were led out from that great planting place of sugar cane and +maize, and their feet set on the northern way. + +When they reached this joyous part of the recital words failed, and +they wept as they smiled at him and touched the head of Tula tenderly. +Even a gorgeous and strange _manta_ she now wore was pressed to the +lips of women who were soon to see their children or their desolate +mothers. + +His eyes grew misty as they thronged about her,--the slender dark +child of the breed of a leader. The new _manta_ was of yellow wool and +cotton, bordered with dull green and little squares of flaming scarlet +woven in it by patient Indian hands of the far south coast. It made +her look a bit royal in the midst of the drab-colored, weary band. + +She seemed scarcely to hear their praise, or their sobs and prayers. +Her face was still and her gaze far off and brooding as her fingers +stroked the curved blade over and over. + +"An Indian stole that knife from the German after his face was cut +with it by her sister," said Marto Cavayso quietly while the vaqueros +were helping the weaker refugees to mount, two to each animal. "That +man gives it to her at the place where Marta, her mother, died in the +night. So after that she does not sleep or eat or talk. It is as you +see." + +"I see! Take you the others, and Tula will ride on my saddle," said +Kit in the same tone. Then he pointed to the beautifully worked +_manta_, "Did she squander wealth of hers on that?" + +Marto regarded him with an impatient frown--it seemed to him an ill +moment for the American joke. + +"Tula had no wealth," he stated, "we lived as we could on the fine +gold you gave to me for myself." + +"Oh yes, I had forgotten that," declared Kit in some wonder at this +information, "but _mantas_ like that do not grow on trees in Sonora." + +"That is a gift from the very grand daughter of the General Terain," +said Marto. "Also if you had seen affairs as they moved there at Linda +Vista you would have said as does Ramon Rotil, that this one is +daughter of the devil! I was there, and with my eyes I saw it, but if +I had not,--an angel from heaven would not make me believe!" + +"What happened?" + +"The Virgin alone knows! for women are in her care, and no man could +see. As ordered, I went to the gates of that hacienda very grand. +_Sangre de Christo!_ if they had known they would have strung me to a +tree and filled me with lead! But I was the very responsible vaquero +of Rancho Soledad in Altar--and the lizards of guards at the gate had +no moment of suspicion. I told them the Indian girl carried a letter +for the eyes of their mistress and the sender was Doña Jocasta Perez. +At that they sent some messenger on the run, for they say the Doña +Dolores is fire and a sword to any servant of theirs who is slow in +her tasks." + +"I heard she was a wonder of pride and beauty," said Kit. "Did you see +her?" + +"That came later. She sent for Tula who would give the letter to no +one,--not even to me. The guard divided their dinner with me while I +waited; if they were doing work for their general I was doing work for +mine and learned many things in that hour! At last Tula came walking +down that great stair made from one garden to another where laurel +trees grow, and with her walked a woman out of the sun. There is no +other word, señor, for that woman! Truly she is of gold and rose; her +mother's family were of old Spain and she is a glory to any day!" + +"Did you feel yourself under witchcraft--once more?" queried Kit. + +"_Sangre de Christo!_ Never again! But José Perez had a good eye for +making choice of women,--that is a true word! So Doña Dolores walked +down to the drive with that _manta_ over her arm, also a belt in her +hand,--a belt of gold, señor, see!" + +To the astonished gaze of Kit Rhodes he drew from under his coat the +burro-skin belt he had directed the making of up there in the hidden +cañon of El Alisal. Marto balanced it in his hand appreciatively. + +"And there was more of it than this!" he exulted, "for the way on the +railroad was paid out of it for all the Indians. That is why we lost +two days,--our car was put on a side track, and for the sick it was +worse than to walk the desert." + +"Yes; well?" + +"Doña Dolores got in a fine carriage there. _Madre de Dios!_ what +horses! White as snow on the sierras, and gold on all the harness! Me, +I am dreaming of them since that hour! They got in, Tula also in her +poor dress, and a guard told me to follow the carriage. It was as if +San Gabriel made me invitation to enter heaven! Twenty miles we went +through that plantation, a deep sea of cane, señor, and maize of a +tree size,--the richness there is riches of a king. Guards were +everywhere and peons rode ahead to inform the major-domo, and he came +riding like devils to meet Doña Dolores Terain. I am not a clever man, +señor, but even I could see that never before had the lady of Linda +Vista made herself fatigue by a plantation ride there, and I think +myself he had a scare that she see too much! At the first when Doña +Dolores had speech with him, it was easy to see he blamed me, and his +eyes looked once as if to scorch me with fire. Then she pointed to the +child beside her, and gave some orders, and he sent a guard with Tula +through another gate into a great corral where men and women were +packed like cattle. Señor, I have been in battles, but I never heard +screams of wounded like the screams of joy I heard in that corral! +Some of these Indians dropped like dead and were carried out of the +gate that way as Tula stood inside and named the names. + +"When it was over that woman of white beauty told that manager to have +them all well fed, and given meat for the journey, for he would answer +to the general if any stroke of harm came to anyone of them on the +plantation of Linda Vista. Then she gave to my hand the belt of gold +to care for the poor people on the trail;--also she said the people +were a free gift to Doña Jocasta Perez, and there was no ransom to +pay. Myself I think the Doña Dolores had happiness to tell the +general, her father, that José Perez had a wife, for that plan of +marriage was but for politics. _Sangre de Christo!_ what a woman! When +all was done she held out the _manta_ to Tula, and her smile was as +honey of the mesquite, and she said, "In my house you would not take +the gift I offered you, but now that you have your mother, and your +friends safe, will you yet be so proud?" and Tula with her arms around +her mother, stood up and let the thing be put over her head as you +see, and that, Señor Capitan, is the way of the strange _manta_ of +Tula." + +"And that?" queried Kit, indicating the belt. Marto smiled a bit +sheepishly and lowered his voice because the last of the horses were +being loaded with the homesick human freight, and the chatter, and +clatter of hoofs had ceased about them. + +"Maybe it is the _manta_, and maybe I am a fool," he confessed, "but +she told me to spend not one ounce beyond what was needed, for it was +to use only for these sick and poor people of hers. There was a good +game going on in that train,--and fools playing! I could have won +every peso if I had put up only a little handful of the nuggets. That +is why I think my general knew when he said she was the devil, for she +stood up in that straight rich garment of honor and looked at me--only +looked, not one spoken word, señor!--and on my soul and the soul of my +mother, the wish to play in that game went away from me in that +minute, and did not come back! How does a man account for a thing like +that; I ask you?" + +Kit thought of that first night on the treasure trail in the mountain +above them, and smiled. + +"I can't account for it, though I do recognize the fact," he answered. +"It is not the first time Tula has ruled an outfit, and it is not the +_manta_!" + +Then he walked over and lifted her from the ground as he would lift a +child, she weighed so little more! + +"Little sister," he said kindly, "now that you are rested, you will +ride my horse to Soledad. Your big work is done for your people. All +is finished." + +"No, señor,--not yet is the finish," she said shaking her head, "not +yet!" + +Kit felt uncomfortably the weight in his pocket of the key of Conrad's +room. He had made most solemn promise it would be guarded till she +came. He had studied up some logical arguments to present to her +attention for herding the German across the border as a murderer the +United States government would deal justice to, but after the report +of Marto concerning her long trail, and the death of her mother in the +desert, he did not feel so much like either airing ideas or asking +questions. He was rather overwhelmed by the knowledge that she had not +allowed even Marto to guess that the bag of gold was her very own! + +He took her on the saddle in front of him because she drooped so +wearily there alone, and her head sank against his shoulder as if +momentarily she was glad to be thus supported. + +"Poor little eaglet!" he said affectionately, "I will take you north +to Cap Pike, and someone else who will love you when she hears all +this; and in other years, quieter years, we will ride again into +Sonora, and----" + +She shook her head against his shoulder, and he stopped short. + +"Why, Tula!" he began in remonstrance, but she lifted her hand with a +curious gesture of finality. + +"Friend of me," she said in a small voice with an undertone of sad +fatefulness, "words do not come today. They told you I am not sleeping +on this home trail, and it is true. I kept my mother alive long after +the death birds of the night were calling for her--it is so! Also +today at the dawn the same birds called above me,--above _me_! and +look!" + +They had reached the summit of the valley's wall and for a half mile +ahead the others were to be seen on the trail to Soledad, but it was +not there she pointed, but to the northeast where a dark cloud hung +over the mountains. Its darkness was cleft by one lance of lightning, +but it was too far away for sound of thunder to reach them. + +"See you not that the cloud in the sky is like a bird,--a dark angry +bird? Also it is over the trail to the north, but it is not for +you,--_I_ am the one first to see it! Señor, I will tell you, but I +telling no other--I think my people are calling me all the time, in +every way I look now. I no knowing how I go to them, but--I think I +go!" + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +EAGLE AND SERPENT + + +Marto Cavayso gave to Kit Rhodes the burro-skin belt and a letter from +Doña Dolores Terain to the wife of José Perez. + +"My work is ended at the hacienda until the mules come back for more +guns, and I will take myself to the adobe beyond the corrals for what +rest there may be. You are capitan under my general, so this goes to +you for the people of the girl he had a heart for. Myself,--I like +little their coyote whines and yells. It may be a giving of thanks, or +it may be a mourning for dead,--but it sounds to me like an anthem +made in hell." + +He referred to the greeting songs of the returned exiles, and the +wails for the dead left behind on the trail. The women newly come from +Palomitas sat circled on the plaza, and as food or drink was offered +each, a portion was poured on the sand as a libation to the ghosts of +the lately dead, and the name of each departed was included in the +wailing chant sung over and over. + +It was a weird, hypnotic thing, made more so by the curious light, +yellow and green in the sky, preceding that dark cloud coming slowly +with sound of cannonading from the north. Though the sun had not set, +half the sky was dark over the eastern sierras. + +"The combination is enough to give even a sober man the jim-jams," +agreed Kit. "Doña Jocasta is sick with fear of them, and has gone in +to pray as far from the sound as possible. The letter will go to her, +and the belt will go to Tula who may thank you another day. This day +of the coming back she is not herself." + +"Mother of God! that is a true word. No girl or woman is like that!" + +The priest, who had talked with the sick and weary, and listened to +their sobs of the degradation of the slave trail, had striven to speak +with Tula, who with head slightly drooped looked at him under her +straight brows as though listening to childish things. + +"See you!" muttered Marto. "That _manta_ must have been garb of some +king's daughter, and no common maid. It makes her a different thing. +Would you not think the padre some underling, and she a ruler giving +laws?" + +For, seated as she was, in a chair with arms, her robe of honor +reached straight from her chin to her feet, giving her appearance of +greater height than she was possessed of, and the slender banda +holding her hair was of the same scarlet of the broideries. Kit +remembered calling her a young Cleopatra even in her rags, and now he +knew she looked it! + +He was not near enough to hear the words of the priest, but with all +his energy he was striving to win her to some view of his. She +listened in long silence until he ceased. + +Then her hand went under her _manta_ and drew out the curved knife. + +She spoke one brief sentence, and lifted the blade over her head. It +caught the light of the hovering sun, and the Indians near enough to +hear her words set up a scream of such unearthly emotion that the +priest turned ashen, and made the sign to ward off evil. + +It was merely coincidence that a near flash of lightning flamed from +the heavens as she lifted the knife,--but it inspired every Indian to +a crashing cry of exultation. + +And it did not end there, for a Palomitas woman had carried across the +desert a small drum of dried skin stretched over a hollow log, and at +the words of Tula she began a soft tum-tum-tum-tum on the hidden +instrument. The sound was at first as a far echo of the thunder back +of the dark cloud, and the voices of the women shrilled their emphasis +as the drum beat louder, or the thunder came nearer. + +Kit Rhodes decided Marto was entirely correct as to the inspiration +back of that anthem. + +"_Sangre de Christo!_ look at that!" muttered Marto, who meant to turn +his back on the entire group, yet was held by the fascination of the +unexpected. + +Four Indian youths with a huge and furious bull came charging down the +mesa towards the corral. A _reata_ fastened to each horn and hind foot +of the animal was about the saddle horn of a boy, and the raging +bellowing creature was held thus at safe distance from all. The boys, +shouting with their joy of victory, galloped past the plaza to where +four great stakes had already been driven deep in the hard ground. To +those stakes the bull would be tied until the burden was ready for +his back--and his burden would be what was left of "Judas" when the +women of the slave trail got through with him! + +"God the father knows I am a man of no white virtues," muttered Marto +eyeing the red-eyed maddened brute, "but here is my vow to covet no +comradeship of aught in the shape of woman in the district of +Altar--bred of the devil are they!" + +He followed after to the corral to watch the tying of the creature, +around which the Indian men were gathered at a respectful distance. + +But Rhodes, after one glance at the bellowing assistant of Indian +vengeance, found himself turning again to Tula and the padre. That +wild wail and the undertone of the drum was getting horribly on his +nerves,--yet he could not desert, as had Marto. + +Tula sat as before, but with the knife held in her open hand on the +arm of the chair. She followed with a grim smile the careering of the +bull, then nodded her head curtly to the priest and turned her gaze +slowly round the corridor until she saw Rhodes, and tilted back her +head in a little gesture of summons. + +"Well, little sister," he said, "what's on your mind?" + +"The padre asks to pray with El Aleman. I say yes, for the padre has +good thoughts in his heart,--maybe so! You have the key?" + +"Sure I have the key, but I fetch it back to you when visitors start +going in, and--oh yes--there's your belt for your people." + +"No; you be the one to give," she said with a glance of sorrow +towards a girl who was youngest of the slaves brought back. "You, +amigo, keep all but the key." + +"As you say," he agreed. "Come along, padre, you are to get the +privilege you've been begging for, and I don't envy you the task." + +Padre Andreas made no reply. In his heart he blamed Rhodes that the +prisoner had not been let escape during the absence of the girl, and +also resented the offhand manner of the young American concerning the +duty of a priest. + +The sun was at the very edge of the world, and all shadows spreading +for the night when they went to the door of Conrad's quarters. Kit +unlocked the door and looked in before opening wide. The one window +faced the corral, and Conrad turned from it in shaking horror. + +"What is it they say out there?" he shouted in fury. "They call words +of blasphemy, that the bull is Germany, and 'Judas' will ride it to +the death! They are wild barbarians, they are----" + +"Never mind what they are," suggested Kit, "here is a priest who +thinks you may have a soul worth praying for, and the Indians have let +him come--once!" + +Then he let the priest in and locked the door, going back to Tula with +the key. She sat where he had left her, and was crooning again the +weird tuneless dirge at which Marto had been appalled. + +But she handed him a letter. + +"Marto forgot. It was with the Chinaman trader at the railroad," she +said and went placidly on fondling the key as she had fondled the +knife, and pitching her voice in that curious falsetto dear to Indian +ceremonial. + +He could scarce credit the letter as intended for himself, as it was +addressed in a straggling hand filling all the envelope, to Capitan +Christofero Rhodes, Manager of Rancho Soledad, District of Altar, +Sonora, Mexico, and in one corner was written, "By courtesy of Señor +Fidelio Lopez," and the date within a week. He opened it, and walked +out to the western end of the corridor where the light was yet good, +though through the barred windows he could see candles already lit in +the shadowy _sala_. + +The letter was from Cap Pike, and in the midst of all the accumulated +horror about him, Kit was conscious of a great homesick leap of the +heart as he skimmed the page and found her name--"Billie is all +right!" + + How are you, Capitan? (began the letter). That fellow Fidelio rode + into the _cantina_ here at La Partida today. He asked a hell's + slew of questions about you, and Billie and me nearly had fits, + for we thought you were sure dead or held for ransom, and I give + it to you straight, Kit, there isn't a peso left on the two + ranches to ransom even Baby Buntin' if the little rat is still + alive, and that ain't all Kit: it don't seem possible that Conrad + and Singleton mortgaged both ranches clear up to the hilt, but it + sure has happened, every acre is plastered with ten per cent paper + and the compound interest strips it from Billie just as sure as if + it was droppin' through to China. When Conrad was on the job he + had it all blanketed, but now saltpeter can't save it without + cash. Billie is all right, but some peaked with worry. So am I. + But you cheer up, for I got plans for a hike up into Pinal County + for us three on a search for the Lost Dutchman Mine, lost fifty + years and I have a hunch we can find it, got the dope from an old + half breed who knew the Dutchman. So don't you worry about + trailing home broke. The Fidelio hombre said to look for you in + six days after Easter, and meet you with water at the Rio Seco, so + we'll do that. He called you capitan and said the Deliverer had + made you an officer; how about it? He let loose a line of talk + about your two women in the outfit, but I sort of stalled him on + that, so Billie wouldn't get it, for I reckon that's a greaser + lie, Kit, and you ain't hitched up to no gay Juanita down there. I + had a monkey and parrot time to explain even that Tula squaw to + Billie, for she didn't savvy--not a copper cent's worth! She is + right here now instructin' me, but I won't let her read this, so + don't you worry. She says to tell you it looks at last like our + old eagle bird will have a chance to flop its wings in France. The + pair of us is near about cross-eyed from watchin' the south trail + into Altar, and the east trail where the troops will go! She says + even if we are broke there is an adobe for you at Vijil's, and a + range for Buntin' and Pardner. Billie rides Pardner now instead of + Pat. + + I reckon that's all Kit, and I've worked up a cramp on this + anyway. I figured that maybe you laid low down there till the + Singleton murder was cleared up, but I can alibi you on that + O. K., when Johnny comes marchin' home! So don't you worry. + + Yours truly, + Pike. + +He read it over twice, seeking out the lines with _her_ name and +dwelling on them. So Billie was riding Pardner,--and Billie had a camp +ready for him,--and Billie couldn't savvy even a little Indian girl in +his outfit--_say!_ + +He was smiling at that with a very warm glow in his heart for the +resentment of Billie. He could just imagine Pike's monkey and parrot +time trying to make Billie understand accidents of the trail in +Sonora. He would make that all clear when he got back to God's +country! And the little heiress of Granados ranches was only an owner +of debt-laden acres,--couldn't raise a peso to ransom even the little +burro! Well, he was glad she rode Pardner instead of another horse; +that showed---- + +Then he smiled again, and drifted into dreams. He would let Bunting +travel light to the Rio Seco, and then load him for her as no burro +ever was loaded to cross the border! He wondered if she'd tell him +again he couldn't hold a foreman's job? He wondered---- + +And then he felt a light touch on his arm, and turned to see the +starlike beauty of Doña Jocasta beside him. Truly the companionship of +Doña Jocasta might be a more difficult thing to explain than that of +the Indian girl of a slave raid! + +Her face was blanched with fear, and her touch brought him back from +his vision of God's country to the tom-tom, and the weird chant, and +the thunder of storm coming nearer and nearer in the twilight. + +"Señor!" she breathed in terror, "even on my knees in prayer it is not +for anyone to shut out this music of demons. Look! Yesterday she was a +child of courage and right, but what is she today?" + +She pointed to Tula and clung to him, for in all the wild chorus Tula +was the leader,--she who had the words of ancient days from the dead +Miguel. She sat there as one enthroned draped in that gorgeous thing, +fit, as Marto said, for a king's daughter, while the others sat in the +plaza or rested on straw and blankets in the corridor looking up at +her and shrilling savage echoes to the words she chanted. + +"And that animal,--I saw it!" moaned Doña Jocasta. "Mother of God! +that I should deny a priest who would only offer prayers for that +wicked one who is to be tortured on it! Señor, for the love of God +give me a horse and let me go into the desert to that storm, any +place,--any place out of sight and sound of this most desolate house! +The merciful God himself has forsaken Soledad!" + +As she spoke he realized that time had passed while he read and +re-read and dreamed a dream because of the letter. The sun was far out +of sight, only low hues of yellow and blue melting into green to show +the illumined path it had taken. By refraction rays of copper light +reached the zenith and gave momentarily an unearthly glow to the mesa +and far desert, but it was only as a belated flash, for the dusk of +night touched the edge of it. + +And the priest locked in with Conrad had been forgotten by him! At any +moment that girl with the key might give some signal for the ceremony, +whatever it was, of the death of the German beast! + +"Sure, señora, I promise you," he said soothingly, patting her hand +clinging to him. "There is my horse in the plaza, and there is +Marto's. We will get the padre, and both of you can ride to the little +adobe down the valley where Elena's old father lives. He is Mexican, +not Indian. It is better even to kneel in prayer there all the night +than to try to rest in Soledad while this lasts. At the dawn I will +surely go for you. Come,--we will ask for the key." + +Together they approached Tula, whose eyes stared straight out seeing +none of the dark faces lifted to hers, she seemed not to see Kit who +stopped beside her. + +"Little sister," he said, touching her shoulder, "the padre waits to +be let out of the room of El Aleman, and the key is needed." + +She nodded her head, and held up the key. + +"Let me be the one," begged Doña Jocasta,--"I should do penance! I was +not gentle in my words to the padre, yet he is a man of God, and +devoted. Let me be the one!" + +The Indian girl looked up at that, and drew back the key. Then some +memory, perhaps that kneeling of Doña Jocasta with the women of +Palomitas, influenced her to trust, and after a glance at Kit she +nodded her head and put the key in her hand. + +"You, señor, have the horses," implored Doña Jocasta, "and I will at +once come with Padre Andreas." + +"_Pronto!_" agreed Kit, "but I must get you a _serape_. Rain may fall +from that cloud." + +She seemed scarcely to hear him as she sped along the patio towards +the locked door. Kit entered his own room for a blanket just as she +fitted the key in the lock, and spoke the padre's name. + +The next instant he heard her screams, and a door slam shut, and as he +came out with the blanket, he saw the priest dash toward the portal +leading from the patio to the plaza. + +He ran to her, lifting her from the tiles where she had been thrown. + +"Conrad!" she cried pointing after the flying figure. "There! Quickly, +señor, quickly!" + +He jerked open the door and looked within, a still figure with the +face hidden, crouched by a bench against the wall. In two strides Kit +crossed from the door and grasped the shoulder, and the figure propped +there fell back on the tiles. It was the dead priest dressed in the +clothes of Conrad, and the horror of that which had been a face showed +he had died by strangulation under the hands of the man for whom he +had gone to pray. + +Doña Jocasta ran wildly screaming through the patio, but the Indian +voices and the drum prevented her from being heard until she burst +among them just as Conrad leaped to the back of the nearest horse. + +"El Aleman! El Aleman!" she screamed pointing to him in horror. "He +has murdered the padre and taken his robe. It is El Aleman! Your Judas +has killed your priest!" + +Kit ran for his own horse, but with the quickness of a cat Tula was +before him in the saddle, and whirling the animal, leaning low, and +her gorgeous _manta_ streaming behind like a banner she sped after the +German screaming, "Judas! Judas! Judas of Palomitas!" + +And, as in the other chants led by her, the Indian women took up this +one in frenzied yells of rage. + +The men of the corral heard and leaped to saddles to follow the flying +figures, but Kit was ahead,--not much, but enough to be nearest the +girl. + +Straight as an arrow the fugitive headed for Mesa Blanca, the nearest +ranch where a fresh horse could be found, and Doña Jocasta and some of +the women without horses stood in the plaza peering after that wild +race in the gray of the coming night. + +[Illustration: The Indian girl was steadily gaining on the German.] + +A flash of lightning outlined the three ahead, and a wail of utter +terror went up from them all. + +"Mother of God, the cañon of the quicksand!" cried Doña Jocasta. + +"Tula! Tula! Tula!" shrilled the Indian women. + +Tula was steadily gaining on the German, and Kit was only a few rods +behind as they dashed down the slight incline to that too green belt +in the floor of the brown desert. + +He heard someone, Marto he thought, shouting his name and calling +"_Sumidero! Sumidero!_" He did not understand, and kept right on. +Others were shouting at Tula with as little result, the clatter of the +horses and the rumble of the breaking storm made all a formless chaos +of sound. + +The frenzied scream of a horse came to him, and another lightning +flash showed Conrad, ghastly and staring, leap from the saddle--in the +middle of the little valley--and Tula ride down on top of him! + +Then a rope fell around Kit's shoulders, pinioning his arms and he was +jerked from the horse with a thud that for a space stunned him into +semi-unconsciousness, but through it he heard again the pitiful scream +of a dumb animal, and shouts of Marto to the frenzied Indians. + +"Ha! Clodomiro, the _reata_! Wait for the lightning, then over her +shoulders! Only the horse is caught;--steady and a true hand, boy! +Ai-yi! You are master, and the Mother of God is your help! Run your +horse back,--run, curse you! or she will sink as he sinks! _Sangre de +Christo!_ she cuts the _reata_!" + +Kit struggled out of the rope, and got to his feet in time to see the +flash of her knife as she whirled to her victim. Again and again it +descended as the man, now submerged to the waist, caught her. His +screams of fear were curdling to the blood, but high above the German +voice of fear sounded the Indian voice of triumph, and from the +vengeful cry of "Judas! Judas! Judas of the world!" her voice turned +sharply to the high clear chant Kit had heard in the hidden cañon of +the red gold. It was as she said--there would be none of her caste and +clan to sing her death song to the waiting ghosts, and she was singing +it. + +As those weird triumphant calls went out from the place of death every +Indian answered them with shouts as of fealty, and in the darkness Kit +felt as if among a circle of wolves giving tongue in some signal not +to be understood by men. + +He could hear the sobs of men and boys about him, but not a measure of +that wild wail failed to bring the ever recurring response from the +brown throats. + +Marto, wet and trembling, cursed and prayed at the horror of it, and +moved close to Kit in the darkness. + +"Jesus, Maria, and José!" he muttered in a choked whisper, "one would +think the fathers of these devils had never been christened! _Sangre +de Christo!_ look at that!" + +For in a vivid sheet of lightning they saw a terrible thing. + +Tula, on the shoulders of the man, stood up for one wavering instant +and with both hands raised high, she flung something far out from her +where the sands were firm for all but things of weight. Then her high +triumphant call ended sharply in the darkness as she cast herself +forward. She died as her sister had died, and on the same knife. + +Doña Jocasta stumbled from a horse, and clung to Kit in terror. +"Mother of God!" she sobbed. "It is as I said! She is the Eagle of +Mexico, and she died clean--with the Serpent under her feet!" + + * * * * * + +In a dawn all silver and gold and rose after the storm, there was only +a trace at the edge of the sand where two horses had carried riders to +the treacherous smiling arroya over which a coyote would not cross. + +And one of the Indian women of Palomitas tied a _reata_ around the +body of her baby son, and sent him to creep out as a turtle creeps to +that thing cast by Tula to the women cheated of their Judas. + +The slender naked boy went gleefully to the task as to a new game, and +spit in the dead face as he dragged it with him to his mother who had +pride in him. + +It was kicked before the women back over the desert to Soledad, and +the boys used it for football that day, and tied what was left of it +between the horns of the roped wild bull at the corral. The bellowing +of the bull when cut loose came as music to the again placid Indian +women of Palomitas. They were ready for the home trail with their +exiles. It had been a good ending, and their great holiday at Soledad +was over. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +EACH TO HIS OWN + + +A straggling train of pack mules followed by a six-mule wagon, trailed +past Yaqui Springs ten days later, and was met there by the faithful +Chappo and two villainous looking comrades, who had cleaned out the +water holes and stood guard over them until arrival of the ammunition +train. + +"For beyond is a dry hell for us, and on the other side the Deliverer +is circled by enemy fighters who would trap him in his own land. He +lies hid like a fox in the hills waiting for this you bring. Water +must not fail, and mules must not fail; for that am I here to give the +word for haste." + +"But even forty mule loads will not serve him long," said Kit +doubtfully. + +"Like a fox in the hills I tell you, Señor Capitan,--and only one way +into the den! Beyond the enemy he has other supplies safe--this is to +fight his way to it. After that he will go like a blaze through dry +meadows of zacatan." + +Kit would have made camp there for the night, but Chappo protested. + +"No, señor! Every drop in the sand here is for the mules of the army. +It is not my word, it is the word of my general. Four hours north you +will find Little Coyote well. One day more and at the crossing of Rio +Seco, water will be waiting from the cold wells of La Partida. It is +so arrange, señor, and the safe trail is made for you and for +excellencia, the señora. In God's name, take all your own, and go in +peace!" + +"But the señora is weary to death, and----" + +"That is true, Capitan," spoke Doña Jocasta, who drooped in the saddle +like a wilted flower. "But the señora will not die, and if she does it +is not so much loss as the smallest of the soldiers of El Gavilan. We +will go on, and go quickly, see!--there is yet water in the cantin, +and four hours of trail is soon over." + +Ugly Chappo came shyly forward and, uncovered, touched the hem of her +skirt to his lips. + +"The high heart of the excellencia gives life to the men who fight," +he said and thrust his hand in a pocket fastened to his belt. "This is +to you from the Deliverer, señora. His message is that it brought to +him the lucky trail, and he would wish the same to the Doña Jocasta +Perez." + +It was the little cross, once sent back to her by a peon in bitterness +of soul, and now sent by a general of Mexico with the blessing of a +soldier. + +"Tell him Jocasta takes it as a gift of God, and his name is in her +prayers," she said and turned away. + +Clodomiro pushed forward,--a very different Clodomiro, for the +fluttering bands of color were gone from his arms and his hair--the +heart of the would-be bridegroom was no longer his. He was stripped as +for the trail or for war, and fastened to his saddle was the gun and +ammunition he had won from Cavayso who had gone quickly onward with +his detachment of the pack. + +But Clodomiro halted beside Chappo, regardless of need for haste on +the trail, and asked him things in that subdued Indian tone without +light, shade, or accent, in which the brown brothers of the desert +veil their intimate discourse. + +"There, beyond!" said Chappo, "two looks on the trail," and he pointed +west. "Two looks and one water hole, and if wind moves the sand no one +can find the way where we go. It is not a trail for boys." + +"I am not now a boy," said Clodomiro, "and when the safety trail of +the señora is over----" + +But Chappo waved him onward, for the wagon and the pack mules, and +even little gray Bunting had turned reluctant feet north. + +Clodomiro had come from Soledad because Elena,--who never had been +out of sight of the old adobe walls,--sat on the ground wailing at +thought of leaving her old sick father and going to war, for despite +all the persuasions of Doña Jocasta, Elena knew what she knew, and did +not at all believe that any of them would see the lands of the +Americano,--not with pack mules of Ramon Rotil laden with guns! + +"If Tula had lived, no other would have been asked," Rhodes had +stated. "But one is needed to make camp for the señora on the +trail,--and to me the work of the packs and the animals." + +"That I can do," Clodomiro offered. "My thought was to go where Tula +said lovers of hers must go, and that was to El Gavilan. But this +different thing can also be my work to the safe wells of the American. +That far I go." + +Thus the three turned north from the war trail, and Clodomiro +followed, after making a prayer that the desert wind would hear, and +be very still, and fill no track made by the mules with the +ammunition. + +This slight discussion at the parting of the ways concerning two +definite things,--need of haste, and conserving of water,--left no +moment for thought or query of the packs of furnishings deemed of use +to Señora Perez in her removal to the north. + +Doña Jocasta herself had asked no question and taken no interest in +them. Stripped of all sign of wealth and in chains, she had ridden +into Soledad, and in comfort and much courtesy she was being conducted +elsewhere. How long it might endure she did not know, and no power of +hers could change the fact that she had been made wife of José +Perez;--and at any turn of any road luck might again be with his +wishes, and her estate fall to any level he choose to enforce. + +At dusk they reached the Little Coyote well, and had joy to find water +for night and morning, and greasewood and dead mesquite wood for a +fire. The night had turned chill and Clodomiro spread the _serape_ of +Doña Jocasta over a heap of flowering greasewood branches. It was very +quiet compared with the other camps on the trail, and had a restful +air of comfort, and of that Jocasta spoke. + +"Always the fear is here, señor," she said touching her breast. "All +the men and guns of Ramon Rotil did not make that fear go quiet. +Every cañon we crossed I was holding my breath for fear of hidden men +of José Perez! You did not see him in the land where he is strong; but +men of power are bound to him there in the south, and--against one +woman----" + +"Señora, I do not think you have read the papers given to you by Padre +Andreas to put with the others given by General Rotil," was Kit's +quiet comment. He glanced toward the well where the boy was dipping +water into a wicker bottle. "Have you?" + +"No, señor, it is my permit to be passed safely by all the men of +Ramon Rotil," she said. "That I have not had need of. Also there is +the record that the American murder at Granados was the crime of +Conrad." + +"But, señora, there is one other paper among them.--I would have told +you yesterday if I had known your fear. I meant to wait until the +trail was ended, but----" + +"Señor!" she breathed leaning toward him, her great eyes glowing with +dreadful question, "_Señor!_" + +"I know the paper, for I signed it," said Kit staring in the leaping +blaze. "So did the padre. It is the certificate of the burial of José +Perez." + +"Señor! _Madre de Dios!_" she whispered. + +"Death reached him on his own land, señora. We passed the grave the +first day of the trail." + +Her face went very white as she made the sign of the cross. + +"Then he--Ramon----?" + +"No,--the general did not see Perez on the trail. He tried to escape +from Cavayso and the man sent a bullet to stop him. It was the end." + +She shuddered and covered her eyes. + +Kit got up and walked away. He looked back from where he tethered the +mules for the night, but she had not moved. The little crucifix was in +her hand, he thought she was praying. There were no more words to be +said, and he did not go near her again that night. He sent Clodomiro +with her _serape_ and pillow, and when the fire died down to glowing +ash, she arose and went to the couch prepared. She went without glance +to right or left--the great fear had taken itself away! + +Clodomiro rolled himself in a _serape_ not far from her place of rest, +but Kit Rhodes slept with the packs and with two guns beside him. From +the start on the trail no man had touched his outfit but himself. He +grinned sometimes at thought of the favorable report the men of Rotil +would deliver to their chief,--for the Americano had taken all +personal care of the packs and chests of Doña Jocasta! He was as an +owl and had no human need of sleep, and let no man help him. + +The trail to the cañon of the Rio Seco was a hard trail, and a long +day, and night caught them ere they reached the rim of the dry wash +where, at long intervals, rain from the hills swept down its age-old +channel for a brief hour. + +Doña Jocasta, for the first time, had left the saddle and crept to the +rude couch afforded by the piled-up blankets in the wagon; Clodomiro +drove; and Kit, with the mules, led the way. + +A little water still swished about in their water bottles, but not +enough for the mules. He was more anxious than he dared betray, for it +was twenty miles to the lower well of La Partida, and if by any +stroke of fortune Cap Pike had failed to make good--Cap was old, and +liable to---- + +Then through the dusk of night he heard, quite near in the trail +ahead, a curious thing, the call of a bird--and not a night bird! + +It was a tremulous little call, and sent a thrill of such wild joy +through his heart that he drew back the mule with a sharp cruel jerk, +and held his breath to listen. Was he going _loco_ from lack of +sleep,--lack of water,--and dreams of---- + +It came again, and he answered it as he plunged forward down a +barranca and up the other side where a girl sat on a roan horse under +the stars:--his horse! also his girl! + +If he had entertained any doubts concerning the last--but he knew now +he never had; a rather surprising fact considering that no word had +ever been spoken of such ownership!--they would have been dispelled by +the way she slipped from the saddle into his arms. + +"Oh, and you didn't forget! you didn't forget!" she whimpered with her +head hidden against his breast. "I--I'm mighty glad of that. Neither +did I!" + +"Why, Lark-child, you've been right alongside wherever I heard that +call ever since I rode away," he said patting her head and holding her +close. He had a horrible suspicion that she was crying,--girls were +mysterious! "Now, now, now," he went on with a comforting pat to each +word, "don't worry about anything. I'm back safe, though in big need +of a drink,--and luck will come your way, and----" + +She tilted her cantin to him, and began to laugh. + +"But it has come my way!" she exulted. "O Kit, I can't keep it a +minute, Kit--we did find that sheepskin!" + +"What? A sheepskin?" He had no recollection of a lost sheepskin. + +"Yes, Cap Pike and I! In the bottom of an old chest of daddy's! We're +all but crazy because it came just when we were planning to give up +the ranch if we had to, and now that you are here--!" her sentence +ended in a happy sigh of utter content. + +"Sure, now that I'm here," he assented amicably, "we'll stop all that +moving business--_pronto_. That is if we live to get to water. What do +you know about any?" + +"Two barrels waiting for you, and Cap rustling firewood, but I heard +the wagon, and----" + +"Sure," he assented again. "Into the saddle with you and we'll get +there. The folks are all right, but the cayuses----" + +A light began to blaze on the level above, and the mules, smelling +water, broke into a momentary trot and were herded ahead of the two +who followed more slowly, and very close together. + +Cap Pike left the fire to stand guard over the water barrels and shoo +the mules away. + +"Look who's here?" he called waving his hat in salute. "The patriots +of Sonora have nothing on you when it comes to making collections on +their native heath! I left you a poor devil with a runt of a burro, a +cripple, and an Indian kid, and you've bloomed out into a bloated +aristocrat with a batch of high-class army mules. And say, you're just +in time, and you don't know it! We're in at last, by Je-rusalem, we're +_in_!" + +Kit grinned at him appreciatively, but was too busy getting water to +ask questions. The wagon was rattling through the dry river bed and +would arrive in a few minutes, and the first mules had to be got out +of the way. + +"You don't get it," said Billie alongside of him. "He means war. We're +in!" + +"With Mexico? _Again?_" smiled Kit skeptically. + +"No--something real--helping France!" + +"No!" he protested with radiant eyes. "Me for it! Say, children, this +is some homecoming!" + +The three shook hands, all talking at once, and Kit and Billie forgot +to let go. + +"Of course you know Cap swore an alibi for you against that suspicion +Conrad tried to head your way," she stated a bit anxiously. "You +stayed away so long!" + +"Yes, yes, Lark-child," he said reassuringly, "I know all that, and a +lot more. I've brought letters of introduction for the government to +some of Conrad's useful pacifist friends along the border. Don't you +fret, Billie boy; the spoke we put in their wheel will overturn their +applecart! The only thing worrying me just now,--beautifullest!--is +whether you'll wait for me till I enlist, get to France, do my stunt +to help clean out the brown rats of the world, and come back home to +marry you." + +"Yip-pee!" shrilled Pike who was slicing bacon into a skillet. "I'm +getting a line now on how you made your other collections!" + +Billie laughed and looked up at him a bit shyly. + +"I waited for you before without asking, and I reckon I can do it +again! I'm--I'm wonderfully happy--for I didn't want you to worry over +coming home broke--and----" + +"Whisper, Lark-child. _I'm not!_" + +"What?" + +"Whisper, I said," and he put one hand over her mouth and led her over +to the little gray burro. "Now, not even to Pike until we get home, +Billie,--but I've come out alive with the goods, while every other +soul who knew went 'over the range'! Buntin' carries your share. I +knew you were sure to find the sheepskin map sooner or later," he lied +glibly, "but luck didn't favor me hanging around for it. I had to get +it while the getting was good, but we three are partners for keeps, +Buntin' is yours, and I'll divide with Pike out of the rest." + +Billie touched the pack, tried to lift it, and stared. + +"You're crazy, Kit Rhodes!" + +"Too bad you've picked a crazy man to marry!" he laughed, and took off +the pack. "Seventy-five pounds in that. I've over three hundred. +Lark-child, if you remember the worth of gold per ounce, I reckon +you'll see that there won't need to be any delay in clearing off the +ranch debts,--not such as you would notice! and maybe I might qualify +as a ranch hand when I come back,--even if I couldn't hold the job the +first time." + +"O Kit! O Cap! O me!" she whispered chantingly. "Don't you dare wake +me up, for I'm having the dream of my life!" + +But he caught her, drew her close and kissed her hair rumpled in the +desert wind. + +And as the wagon drew into the circle of light, that was the picture +Doña Jocasta saw from the shadows of the covered wagon:--young love, +radiant and unashamed! + +She stared at them a moment strangely in a sudden mist of tears, as +Clodomiro jumped down and arranged for her to alight. Cap Pike looking +up, all but dropped the coffeepot. + +"Some little collector--that boy!" he muttered, and then aloud, "You +_Kit_!" + +Kit turned and came forward leading Billie, who suddenly developed +panic at vision of the most beautiful, tragic face she had ever seen. + +"Some collector!" murmured Cap Pike forgetting culinary operations to +stare. "Shades of Sheba's queen!" + +But Kit, whose days and nights of Mesa Blanca and Soledad had rather +unfitted him for hasty adjustments to conventions, or standardized +suspicion regarding the predatory male, held the little hand of Billie +very tightly, and did not notice her gasp of amazement. He went +forward to assist Doña Jocasta, whose hesitating half glance about her +only enhanced the wonder of jewel-green eyes whose beauty had been +theme of many a Mexic ballad. + +For these were the first Americanos she had ever met, and it was said +in the south that Americanos might be wild barbaros,--though the señor +of the songs---- + +The señor of the songs reached his hand and made his best bow as he +noted her sudden shrinking. + +"Here, Doña Jocasta, are friends of good heart. We are now on the edge +of the lands of La Partida, and this little lady is its padrona +waiting to give you welcome at the border. Folks, this is Señora Perez +who has escaped from hell by help of the guns of El Gavilan." + +"Doña Jocasta!" repeated Cap Pike standing in amazed incredulity with +the forgotten skillet at an awkward angle dripping grease into the +camp fire, but his amazement regarding personality did not at all +change his mental attitude as to the probable social situation. "Some +collector, Brother, but hell in Sonora isn't the only hell you can +blaze the trail to with the wrong combination!" + +Kit turned a silencing frown on the philosopher of the skillet, but +Billie went toward the guest with outstretching hands. + +"Doña Jocasta, oh!" she breathed as if one of her fairy tales of +beauty had come true, and then in Spanish she added the sweet gracious +old Castillian welcome, "Be at home with us on your own estate, Señora +Perez." + +Jocasta laid her hands on the shoulder of the girl, and looked in the +clear gray eyes. + +"You are Spanish, Señorita?" + +"My grandmother was." + +"Thanks to the Mother of God that you are not a strange Americana!" +sighed Jocasta in sudden relief. Then she turned to her American +courier and guard and salvation over the desert trails. + +"I saw," she said briefly. "She is as the young sister of me who--who +is gone to God! Make yourself her guard forever, Don Pajarito. May you +sing many songs together, and have no sorrows." + +After the substantial supper, Kit heard at first hand all the veiled +suspicion against himself as voiced in the fragment of old newspaper +wrapped around Fidelio's tobacco, and he and Doña Jocasta spread out +the records written by the padre, and signed by Jocasta and the +others, as witness of how Philip Singleton met death in the arroya of +the cottonwoods. + +"It is all here in this paper," said Jocasta, "and that is best. I can +tell the alcalde, yes, but if an--an accident had come to me on the +trail, the words on the paper would be the safer thing." + +"But fear on the trail is gone for you now," said Kit smiling at her +across the camp fire. Neither of them had said any word of life at +Mesa Blanca or Soledad, or of the work of Tula at the death. + +The German had strangled a priest, and escaped, and in ignorance of +trails had ridden into a quicksand, and that was all the outer world +need know of his end! + +The fascinated eyes of Billie dwelt on Jocasta with endless wonder. + +"And you came north with the guns and soldiers of Ramon Rotil,--how +wonderful!" she breathed. "And if the newspapers tell the truth I +reckon he needs the guns all right! Cap dear, where is that one José +Ortego rode in with from the railroad as we were leaving La Partida?" + +"In my coat, Honey. You go get it--you are younger than this +old-timer." + +Jocasta followed Billie with her eyes, though she had not understood +the English words between them. It was not until the paper was +unfolded with an old and very bad photograph of Ramon Rotil staring +from the front page that she whispered a prayer and reached out her +hand. The headline to the article was only three words in heavy type +across the page: "Trapped at last!" + +But the words escaped her, and that picture of him in the old days +with the sombrero of a peon on his head and his audacious eyes smiling +at the world held her. No picture of him had ever before come her way; +strange that it should be waiting for her there at the border! + +The Indian boy at sight of it, stepped nearer, and stood a few paces +from her, looking down. + +"It calls," he said. + +It was the first time he had spoken except to make reply since +entering the American camp. Doña Jocasta frowned at him and he moved a +little apart, leaning,--a slender dark, semi-nude figure, against the +green and yellow mist of a palo verde tree,--listening with downcast +eyes. + +Doña Jocasta looked from the pictured face to the big black letters +above. + +"Is it a victorious battle, for him?" she asked and Kit hesitated to +make reply, but Billie, not knowing reason for silence, blurted out +the truth even while her eyes were occupied by another column. + +"Not exactly, señora. But here is something of real interest to you, +something of Soledad--oh, I _am_ sorry!" + +"What does it say,--Soledad?" + +"See!--I forgot you don't know the English!" + + * * * * * + +Troops from the south to rescue Don José Perez from El Gavilan at +Soledad turn guns on that survival of old mission days, and level it +to the ground. Soledad was suspected as an ammunition magazine for the +bandit chief, and it is feared Señor Perez is held in the mountains +for ransom, as no trace of him has been found. + + * * * * * + +"Now you've done it," remarked Kit, and Billie turned beseeching eyes +on the owner of Soledad, and repeated miserably--"I _am_ so sorry!" + +But Doña Jocasta only lifted her head with a certain disdain, and +veiled the emerald eyes slightly. + +"So!" she murmured with a shrug of the shoulder. "It is then a bandit +he is called in the words of the American newspaper?" + +Cap Pike not comprehending the rapid musical Spanish, leaned forward +fishing for a coal to light his pipe, noting her voice and watching +her eyes. + +"There you have it already!" he muttered to Kit. "All velvet, and mad +as hell!" + +Billie, much bewildered, turned to Kit as for help, but the slender +hand of Doña Jocasta reached out pointing to the headlines. + +"And--this?" she said coldly. "It is, you say, not victorious for +Ramon Rotil, that--bandit?" + +"It says, señora," hesitated Billie, "that he is hid in the hills, +and----" + +"That we know," stated Doña Jocasta, "what other thing?" + +"'He has a wound and was carried by his men to one of his retreats, a +hidden place,'" read Billie slowly, translating into Spanish as she +went on. "That is all except that the Federals had to retreat +temporarily because a storm caused trouble and washed out a bridge +over which their ammunition train has to go. The place of the accident +is very bad. Timber and construction engineers are being rushed to +service there, but for a few days luck is with the Hawk." + +"So!--For a few days!" repeated Doña Jocasta in the cool sweet voice. +"In a few days Ramon Rotil could cross Mexico. He is El Gavilan!" + +Things were coming too fast for Billie. She regarded the serenity of +Doña Jocasta with amazement, and tried to imagine how she would feel +if enemy guns battered down the old walls of Granados, or--thought of +terror--if Kit should be held in the hills and tortured for ransom! + +"Speaking of floods," remarked Pike in amiable desire to bridge over +an awkward pause, "we've used half the water we brought, and need to +make a bright and early start tomorrow. Rio Seco is no garden spot to +get caught in short of water. Our La Partida mules are fresh as +daisies right off a month of range, but yours sure look as if they had +made the trip." + +"What does he say,--the old señor?" asked Doña Jocasta. + +Billie translated for her, whereupon she arose and summoned Clodomiro +by a gesture. + +"My bed," she said briefly, "over there," and she indicated a thicket +of greasewood the wagon had passed on their arrival. "Also this first +night of safety you will be the sentinel to keep guard that Señor +Rhodes may at last have sleep. All the danger trail he had none." + +Cap Pike protested that he do guard duty, but the smile of Doña +Jocasta won her way. + +"He is younger and not weary, señor. It is good for him, and it +pleases me," she said. + +"The camp is yours," he agreed weakly, and against his better +judgment. He did not like Indians who were like "sulky slim brown dumb +snakes"; that was what he muttered when he looked at Clodomiro. In his +irritation at the Indian's silence it didn't even occur to him that he +never had known any snakes but dumb ones. + +But if the voice of Clodomiro was uncannily silent, his eyes spoke for +him as they followed Doña Jocasta. Kit could only think of a lost, +homesick dog begging for the scent of the trail to his own kennel. He +said so to Billie as he made her bed in the camp wagon. + +"Cap and I will be right here at the hind wheels," he promised. +"Yes,--sure, I'll let the Indian ride herd for the night. Doña Jocasta +is right, it's his turn, and we seem to have passed the danger line." + +"Knock wood!" cautioned Billie. + +So he rapped his head with his knuckles, and they laughed together as +young happy things do at trifles. Then he stretched himself for sleep +under the stars and almost within arm's reach of the girl--the girl +who had ridden to meet him in the night, the wonderful girl who had +promised to wait until he came back from France ... of course he could +get into the army _now_! They would need men too badly to turn him +down again. If there was a trifle of discrepancy in sight of his +eyes--which he didn't at all believe--he had the dust now, also the +nuggets, to buy any and all treatment to adjust _that_ little matter. +He had nearly four hundred pounds, aside from giving all he dared give +at once as Tula's gift to those women of the slave raid. After the +war was over he would find ways of again crossing over to the great +treasure chest in the hidden cañon. The little information Pike had +managed to convey to him about that sheepskin map told him that the +most important indications had been destroyed during those years it +had been buried for safe-keeping. The only true map in existence was +the one in his own memory,--no use to tell Pike and Billie that! He +could leave them in comfort and content, and when he got back from +France--He wondered how long it would last--the war. Hadn't the +greatest of Americans tried three years ago to hammer the fact into +the alleged brain pans of the practical politicians that the sooner +the little old United States made guns, and ships, and flying machines +for _herself_, the sooner she could help end that upheaval of hell in +Europe?... and they wouldn't listen! Listen?--They brought every ounce +of influence they could round up to silence those facts,--the +eternally condemned ostriches sticking their own heads in the sand to +blind the world to the situation! Now they were in, and he wondered if +they had even ten rounds of ammunition for the cartridge belts of the +few trained soldiers in service? They had not had even three rounds +for the showy grand review attempted in Texas not long since; also the +transportation had been a joke, some of the National Guards started, +but never did arrive--and France was a longer trail than Texas. God! +they should be ready to fight as the French were ready, in twelve +hours--and it would have to be months--a long unequal hell for a time +over there, but only one finish, and the brown rats driven back to +their den! After that the most wonderful girl would--would--would---- + +Then all the sleep due him on the sleepless trail settled over him +like a net weighted, yet very caressing, and the world war and the +wonderful girl drifted far away! + +Beyond, on the other side of the fire, and out of the circle of light, +Clodomiro bore the _serape_ of Doña Jocasta, and made clear the place +for her couch. She had returned to the light of the fire and was +scanning again the annoying paper of the Americanos. Especially that +remembered face of the audacious eyes. They were different eyes in +these latter days, level and cynical, and sometimes cruel. + +"He calls," said Clodomiro again beside her. She had not heard him, +and turned in anger that he dare startle her. + +"Who does he call?" she asked irritably tossing aside the paper. + +"All Mexico, I think. All Mexico's heart," and he touched his breast. +"Me, I do not sleep. I do your work and when the end of the trail is +yours, I ask, Excellencia, that you send me back that I find him +again,--the Deliverer!" + +"What did Ramon Rotil ever do for you that you fret like a chained +coyote because his enemies are strong?" + +"Not anything, Excellencia. Me, he would not know if I told him my +name, but--he is the Deliverer who will help the clans. Also, _she_ +would go,--Tula. _Sangre de Christo!_ there would be no chain strong +enough to hold her back if his wounds cried for help." + +"If--his wounds cried for help!" repeated Doña Jocasta mechanically. + +"It is true, Excellencia, El Gavilan was giving help to many people in +the lands he crossed. Now the many will forget, and like a hawk with +the weight of an arrow in his breast he will fly alone to a high nest +of the hills. Death will nest with him there some night or some day, +Excellencia. And the many will forget." + +"Quiet you!" ordered Doña Jocasta angrily. + +Abashed, Clodomiro went silent, and with a murmured apology took +himself into the shadows. + +She lifted the pictured face barely discernible now in the diminished +light. + +"And--the many will forget!" she repeated irritably. "The boy has the +truth of it, but if _she_ had lived, so terribly wicked,--so lost of +God, I wonder if----" + +She lifted her face looking up at the still stars as if for light on a +thought, then flung her hands out despairingly and turned away to the +couch by the green bush of fragrant yellow bloom. + +But not to sleep. Long after the Americanos were wrapped in slumber a +little blaze sent glimmer of light through the undergrowth, and she +saw Clodomiro stretched beside the fire. He had tossed a bit of +greasewood on the coals that he might again study the face of El +Gavilan. + +She had heard him say that if no desert wind lifted the sand he could +follow to that hidden nest of the Hawk. It was very dark now except +for glimmer of stars through lacy, slow-drifting clouds,--there was no +wind. Later there would be a waning moon! Much of every waking life +is a dream, and her dreams were of the No Man's Land of the +desert,--the waterless trail from which she had been rescued for +peace! + +Twice during the night Kit roused from the depths sufficiently to +realize that sleep is one of the greatest gifts to man. Once Clodomiro +was stretched by the little fire inspecting the paper he could not +read, the second time he thought Baby Bunting was nosing around trying +to get close to human things. Both times he reached out his hands to +the precious packs beside which he slept on the trail. All were safe, +and he drifted again into a great ocean of slumber. + +He was wakened at dawn by the voice of Cap Pike, keyed high for an +ultra display of profanity. + +"By the jumping Je-hosophat, I knew it!" he shrilled. "That's your +latest collection, begod! I hoped he wouldn't, and knew he would! The +all-firedest finest pair of mules on Granados, and every water bag in +the outfit! Can you beat it?" + +At the first shout Kit jumped to his feet, his eyes running rapidly +over his pack saddle outfit. All was safe there, and as Billie lifted +her head and looked at him drowsily over the edge of the wagon bed he +realized that in the vital things of life all was well with his +world. + +"Let Sheba run your camp, and run it to hell, will you?" went on Cap +Pike accusingly. He was thrashing around among the growth back of +the Soledad outfit wagon where the mules had been tethered. +"Two--four--six, and Baby Buntin'--yes sir! Lit out by the dark of +the moon, and left neither hide nor hair,--" + +"Oh, be reasonable, Cap!" protested Kit. "Buntin' isn't gone--she's +right alongside here, waiting for breakfast." + +"You're shoutin' she's here; so is every dragged-to-death skate you +hit camp with! It's Billie's crackerjack mules, the pick of the ranch, +that the bare-legged greasy heathen hit the trail with! And every +water bag!" + +"Well," decided Kit, verifying the water statement by a glance at the +barrels, "no one is to blame. The boy didn't want to come this trail. +He stuck until we were over the rough of it, and then he cut loose. A +pair of mules isn't so bad." + +"Now, of course not!" agreed Cap sarcastically. "A mere A-number-one +pair of mules belonging to another fellow is only a flea bite to offer +a visitor for supper! Well, all _I_ got to say----" + +"Don't say it, Cap dear," suggested Billie. "The Indian was here +because of Doña Jocasta, and _she_ can't help it! As she doesn't +understand English, she'll probably think you're murdering some of us +over here. Whist now, and put your muzzle on! We'll get home without +the two mules. I'll go and tell her that the hysterics is your way of +offering morning prayers!" + +She slipped away, laughing at his protests, but when a little past the +fire place she halted, standing very still, peering beyond at +something on the ground under the greasewood where the _serape_ of +Doña Jocasta had been spread. No _serape_ or sleeper was there! + +Kit noted her startled pause, and in a few strides was beside her; +then, without a word, the two went forward together and he picked up +the package of papers laid carefully under the greasewood. He knew +without opening them what they were,--the records made for her safety, +and for his, in Soledad, place of tragedies. + +"They are the papers I was to put on record for her in case--Well, +I'll do it, and you'll take care of the copies for her, Billie, +and--and do your best for the girl if a chance ever comes. We owe her +a lot more than she will ever guess,--our gold come out of Mexico +under the guard arranged for her, and when I come back----" + +"But Kit," protested Billie, "to think of her alone with that thieving +Indian! He took flour and bacon too! And if she hopes to find her +husband----" + +"She doesn't," concluded Kit thoughtfully turning over the certificate +signed by the padre and him, of the husband's safe burial in the sands +of Soledad. He glanced at Billie in doubt. One never knew how safe it +was to tell things,--some things,--to a woman; also Billie was so +enchanted by Jocasta's sad beauty, and---- + +"No, I reckon she doesn't hope much along that line. She has probably +gone back to the wilderness for another reason,--one I never suspected +until last night. And Lark-child, we won't talk about that, not at +least till I return from the 'back of beyond' over there," and he +pointed eastward where shafts of copper light touched the gray veil of +the morning. + +After his first explosion of amazement Cap Pike regarded the +elopement, as he called it, very philosophically, considering his +disgust over lost mules and flour and bacon. + +"What did I tell you right here last night?" he demanded of Kit. "Soft +as velvet and hard as hell,--that's what I said! She looks to me like +a cross between a saint in a picture frame and a love bird in a tree, +and her eyes! Yet after all no man can reckon on that blood,--she is +only a girl of the hills down there, and the next we hear of her +she'll likely be leaden' a little revolution of her own." + +The young chap made no reply, but busied himself hastening a scant +breakfast in order that the worn mules be got to water before the +worst heat of a dry day. Also the losses to the culinary outfit did +make problems for the trip. + +Cap eyed him askance for a space, and then with a chuckle wilfully +misconstrued his silence and lowered his tone. + +"I don't blame you for feeling downhearted on your luck, Bub, for she +sure was a looker! But it's all in a lifetime, and as you ramble along +in years, you'll find that most any hombre can steal them, and take +them home, but when it comes to getting a permanent clinch on the +female affections----" + +Billie, who was giving a short ration of water to the burro, called +across to ask what Kit was laughing at in that hilarious way. She also +stated that she did not think it a morning for hilarity, not at all! +That wonderful, beautiful, mystery woman might be going to her death! + +After the packs were all on, Cap Pike swung the mules of the first +wagon into the home trail and passed over the mesa singing rakishly. + + _Oh-h! Biddy McGee has been after me, + Since I've been in the army!_ + +And Billie turned in the saddle to take a last look over the trail +where the woman of the emerald eyes had passed in the night. + +"All my life I have looked, and looked into the beautiful mirages of +the south desert wondering what would come out of it--and _she_ was +the answer," she said, smiling at Kit. "Tomorrow I'll feel as if it +was all a dream, all but the wonderful red gold, and you! Some fine +day we'll take a little _pasear_ down there, I'll follow that dream +trail, and----" + +"You will not!" decided the chosen of her heart with rude certainty. +"The dreams of that land of mirages are likely to breed nightmares. +You are on the right side of the border for women to stay. Our old +American eagle is a pretty safe bird to roost with." + +"Well," debated the only girl, "if it comes to that, Mexico also has +the eagle, and had it first!" + +"Yes, contrary child," he conceded, herding the mules into line, "so +it has,--but the eagle of Mexico is still philandering with a helmeted +serpent. Wise gamblers reserve their bets on that game, we can only +hope that the eagle fights its way free!" + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Treasure Trail, by Marah Ellis Ryan + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TREASURE TRAIL *** + +***** This file should be named 29694-8.txt or 29694-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/6/9/29694/ + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://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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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: The Treasure Trail + A Romance of the Land of Gold and Sunshine + +Author: Marah Ellis Ryan + +Illustrator: Robert Amick + +Release Date: August 15, 2009 [EBook #29694] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TREASURE TRAIL *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_1' id='linki_1'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-fpc.jpg' alt='' title='' width='374' height='577' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +“I’ll hit any trail with you––barring Mexican politics.” [Page 19]<br /> +</p> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<table style="background-image:url('images/img-title.png'); width:408px; height:608px; margin:auto;" summary="title page"> +<tr><td> +<p class='tp' style='margin-top:20px;margin-bottom:20px;'><span style='font-size:2.4em;margin-top:20px;font-style:italic;'>The</span><br /> +<span style='font-size:2.8em;margin-bottom:20px;'>Treasure Trail</span></p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:1.6em;margin-bottom:40px;'><i>A Romance of the Land of<br />Gold and Sunshine</i></p> +<p class='tp' style='margin-bottom:5px;'>By</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:1.4em;'>MARAH ELLIS RYAN</p> +<div style='margin:40px auto; text-align:center;'> +<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-emb.jpg' /> +</div> +<p class='tp' style='margin-bottom:40px;font-size:larger;'><i>Illustrated<br />By Robert Amick</i></p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:1.4em;font-variant:small-caps;'>Publishers Chicago</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:1.6em;'>A. C. McCLURG & CO.</p> +<p class='tp' >1918</p> +</td></tr></table> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='tp' style='margin-top:40px;'>Copyright<br />A. C. McCLURG & CO.<br />1918</p> +<hr class='p10' /> +<p class='tp' >Published November, 1918</p> +<hr class='p10' /> +<p class='tp' style='margin-bottom:40px;'><i>Copyrighted in Great Britain</i></p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='tp' style='margin-top:40px;'><i>To</i></p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;'><i>Kalatoka</i></p> +<p class='tp' style='margin-bottom:40px;'><i>of the brown tent</i></p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<h3>CONTENTS</h3> +<table border='0' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'><span style='font-size:0.8em'>CHAPTER</span></td> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='right'><span style='font-size:0.8em'>PAGE</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>I</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>KIT AND THE GIRL OF THE LARK CALL</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_I_KIT_AND_THE_GIRL_OF_THE_LARK_CALL'>1</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>II</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>THE RED GOLD LEGEND</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_II_THE_RED_GOLD_LEGEND'>15</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>III</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>A VERIFIED PROPHECY OF SEÑORITA BILLIE</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_III_A_VERIFIED_PROPHECY_OF_SEORITA_BILLIE'>54</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>IV</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>IN THE ADOBE OF PEDRO VIJIL</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IV_IN_THE_ADOBE_OF_PEDRO_VIJIL'>66</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>V</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>AN “ADIOS”––AND AFTER</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_V_AN_ADIOSAND_AFTER'>73</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VI</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>A DEAD MAN UNDER THE COTTONWOODS</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VI_A_DEAD_MAN_UNDER_THE_COTTONWOODS'>90</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>IN THE PROVINCE OF ALTAR</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VII_IN_THE_PROVINCE_OF_ALTAR'>107</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VIII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>THE SLAVE TRAIL</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VIII_THE_SLAVE_TRAIL'>124</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>IX</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>A MEETING AT YAQUI WELL</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IX_A_MEETING_AT_YAQUI_WELL'>133</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>X</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>A MEXICAN EAGLET</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_X_A_MEXICAN_EAGLET'>144</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XI</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>GLOOM OF BILLIE</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XI_GLOOM_OF_BILLIE'>161</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>COVERING THE TRAIL</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XII_COVERING_THE_TRAIL'>167</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XIII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>A WOMAN OF EMERALD EYES</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIII_A_WOMAN_OF_EMERALD_EYES'>186</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XIV</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>THE HAWK OF THE SIERRAS</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIV_THE_HAWK_OF_THE_SIERRAS'>217</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XV</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>THE “JUDAS” PRAYER AT MESA BLANCA</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XV_THE_JUDAS_PRAYER_AT_MESA_BLANCA'>230</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XVI</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>THE SECRET OF SOLEDAD CHAPEL</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVI_THE_SECRET_OF_SOLEDAD_CHAPEL'>256</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XVII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>THE STORY OF DOÑA JOCASTA</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVII_THE_STORY_OF_DOA_JOCASTA'>288</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XVIII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>RAMON ROTIL DECIDES</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVIII_RAMON_ROTIL_DECIDES'>300</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XIX</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>THE RETURN OF TULA</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIX_THE_RETURN_OF_TULA'>328</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XX</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>EAGLE AND SERPENT</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XX_EAGLE_AND_SERPENT'>346</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XXI</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>EACH TO HIS OWN</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXI_EACH_TO_HIS_OWN'>360</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class='pb' /> +<h3>ILLUSTRATIONS</h3> +<table border='0' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Illustrations' style='margin:1em auto;'> +<col style='width:75%;' /> +<col style='width:25%;' /> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='right'>PAGE</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>“I’ll hit any trail with you––barring Mexican politics.”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_1'><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>“You poor kid, you have a hard time with the disreputables you pick up.”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_2'>76</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>“No, Ramon! No!” she cried, and flung herself between him and his victims.</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_3'>280</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>The Indian girl was steadily gaining on the German.</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_4'>356</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class='pb' /> +<h1>The Treasure Trail</h1> +<div class='chsp' style='padding-top:0'> +<a name='CHAPTER_I_KIT_AND_THE_GIRL_OF_THE_LARK_CALL' id='CHAPTER_I_KIT_AND_THE_GIRL_OF_THE_LARK_CALL'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> +<h3>KIT AND THE GIRL OF THE LARK CALL</h3> +</div> +<p>In the shade of Pedro Vijil’s little brown adobe on +the Granados rancho, a horseman squatted to repair +a broken cinch with strips of rawhide, while his horse––a +strong dappled roan with a smutty face––stood near, +the rawhide bridle over his head and the quirt trailing +the ground.</p> +<p>The horseman’s frame of mind was evidently not of +the sweetest, for to Vijil he had expressed himself in +forcible Mexican––which is supposed to be Spanish and +often isn’t––condemning the luck by which the cinch +had gone bad at the wrong time, and as he tinkered he +sang softly an old southern ditty:</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'><i>Oh––oh! I’m a good old rebel,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Now that’s just what I am!<br /> +For I won’t be reconstructed<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And I don’t care a damn!</i></p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>He varied this musical gem occasionally by whistling +the air as he punched holes and wove the rawhide thongs +in and out through the spliced leather.</p> +<p>Once he halted in the midst of a strain and lifted his +head, listening. Something like an echo of his own notes +sounded very close, a mere shadow of a whistle.</p> +<p>Directly over his head was a window, unglazed and +wooden barred. A fat brown olla, dripping moisture, +almost filled the deep window sill, but the interior was +all in shadow. Its one door was closed. The Vijil family +was scattered around in the open, most of them under +the <i>ramada</i>, and after a frowning moment of mystification +the young fellow resumed his task, but in silence.</p> +<p>Then, after a still minute, more than the whisper of +a whistle came to him––the subdued sweet call of a +meadow lark. It was so sweet it might have been mate +to any he had heard on the range that morning.</p> +<p>Only an instant he hesitated, then with equal care he +gave the duplicate call, and held his breath to listen––not +a sound came back.</p> +<p>“We’ve gone loco, Pardner,” he observed to the +smutty-faced roan moving near him. “That jolt from +the bay outlaw this morning has jingled my brain pans––we +don’t hear birds call us––we only think we do.”</p> +<p>If he had even looked at Pardner he might have been +given a sign, for the roan had lifted its head and was +staring into the shadows back of the sweating olla.</p> +<p>“Hi, you caballero!”</p> +<p>The words were too clear to be mistaken, the “caballero” +stared across to the only people in sight. There +was Pedro Vijil sharpening an axe, while Merced, his +wife, turned the creaking grindstone for him. The young +olive branches of the Vijil family were having fun with +a horned toad under the <i>ramada</i> where gourd vines +twisted about an ancient grape, and red peppers hung in +a gorgeous splash of color. Between that and the blue +haze of the far mountains there was no sign of humanity +to account for such cheery youthful Americanism as the +tone suggested.</p> +<p>“Hi, yourself!” he retorted, “whose ghost are you?”</p> +<p>There was a giggle from the barred window of the +adobe.</p> +<p>“I don’t dare say because I am not respectable just +now,” replied the voice. “I fell in the ditch and have +nothing on but the Sunday shirt of Pedro. I am the +funniest looking thing! wish I dared ride home in it to +shock them all silly.”</p> +<p>“Why not?” he asked, and again the girlish laugh +gave him an odd thrill of comradeship.</p> +<p>“A good enough reason; they’d take Pat from me, +and say he wasn’t safe to ride––but he is! My tumble +was my own fault for letting them put on that fool English +saddle. Never again for me!”</p> +<p>“They are all right for old folks and a pacing pony,” +he observed, and again he heard the bubbling laugh.</p> +<p>“Well, Pat is not a pacing pony, not by a long shot; +and I’m not old folks––yet!” Then after a little silence, +“Haven’t you any curiosity?”</p> +<p>“I reckon there’s none allowed me on this count,” he +replied without lifting his head, “between the wooden +bars and Pedro’s shirt you certainly put the fences up +on me.”</p> +<p>“I’m a damsel in distress waiting for a rescuing knight +with a white banner and a milk-white steed––” went on +the laughing voice in stilted declamation.</p> +<p>“Sorry, friend, but my cayuse is a roan, and I never +carried a white flag yet. You pick the wrong colors.”</p> +<p>Whereupon he began the chanting of a war song, with +an eye stealthily on the barred window.</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'><i>Hurrah! Hurrah! For southern rights, hurrah!<br /> +Hurrah for the bonnie blue flag<br /> +That bears the single star!</i></p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>“Oh! <i>I</i> know that!” the voice was now a hail of recognition. +“Cap Pike always sings that when he’s a little +‘how-came-ye-so’––and <i>you’re</i> a Johnny Reb!”</p> +<p>“Um! twice removed,” assented the man by the wall, +“and you are a raiding Yank who has been landed in +one of our fortresses with only one shirt to her back, +and that one borrowed.”</p> +<p>He had a momentary vision of two laughing gray +eyes beside the olla, and the girl behind the bars laughed +until Merced let the grindstone halt while she cast a +glance towards the house as if in doubt as to whether +three feet of adobe wall and stout bars could serve +instead of a dueña to foolish young Americans who +chattered according to their foolishness.</p> +<p>There was an interval of silence, and then the girlish +voice called again.</p> +<p>“Hi, Johnny Reb!”</p> +<p>“Same to you, Miss Yank.”</p> +<p>“Aren’t you the new Americano from California, for +the La Partida rancho?”</p> +<p>“Even so, O wise one of the borrowed garment.” The +laugh came to him again.</p> +<p>“Why don’t you ask how I know?” she demanded.</p> +<p>“It is borne in upon me that you are a witch of the +desert, or the ghost of a dream, that you see through the +adobe wall, and my equally thick skull. Far be it for +me to doubt that the gift of second sight is yours, O +seventh daughter of a seventh daughter!”</p> +<p>“No such thing! I’m the only one!” came the quick +retort, and the young chap in the shade of the adobe +shook with silent mirth.</p> +<p>“I see you laughing, Mr. Johnny Reb, you think you +caught me that time. But you just halt and listen to +me, I’ve a hunch and I’m going to prophesy.”</p> +<p>“I knew you had the gift of second sight!”</p> +<p>“Maybe you won’t believe me, but the hunch is that +you––won’t––hold––the job on these ranches!”</p> +<p>“What!” and he turned square around facing the window, +then laughed. “That’s the way you mean to get +even for the ‘seventh daughter’ guess is it? You think +I can’t handle horses?”</p> +<p>“Nix,” was the inelegant reply, “I know you can, for +I saw you handle that bay outlaw they ran in on you this +morning: seven years old and no wrangler in Pima could +ride him. Old Cap Pike said it was a damn shame to +put you up against that sun-fisher as an introduction to +Granados.”</p> +<p>“Oh! Pike did, did he? Nice and sympathetic of Pike. +I reckon he’s the old-time ranger I heard about out at +the Junction, reading a red-fire riot to some native sons +who were not keen for the cactus trail of the Villistas. +That old captain must be a live wire, but he thinks I can’t +stick?”</p> +<p>“No-o, that wasn’t Cap Pike, that was my own +hunch. Say, are you married?”</p> +<p>“O señorita! this is so sudden!” he spoke in shy +reproof, twisting his neckerchief in mock embarrassment, +and again Merced looked toward the house because +of peals of laughter there.</p> +<p>“You are certainly funny when you do that,” she said +after her laughter had quieted down to giggles, “but I +wasn’t joking, honest Indian I wasn’t! But how did you +come to strike Granados?”</p> +<p>“Me? Well, I ranged over from California to sell a +patch of ground I owned in Yuma. Then I hiked over +to Nogales on a little <i>pasear</i> and offered to pack a gun +and wear a uniform for this Mexican squabble, and the +powers that be turned me down because one of my eyes +could see farther than the other––that’s no joke––it’s +a calamity! I spent all the <i>dinero</i> I had recovering from +the shock, and about the time I was getting my sympathetic +friends sobered up, Singleton, of Granados, saw us +trying out some raw cavalry stock, and bid for my valuable +services and I rode over. Any other little detail +you’d like to know?”</p> +<p>“N-no, only needed to know it wasn’t Conrad the +manager hired you, and I asked if you were married because +married men need the work more than single strays. +Adolf Conrad got rid of two good American men lately, +and fetches over Mexicans from away down Hermosillo +way.”</p> +<p>“’Cause why?” asked the man who had ceased pretense +of mending the saddle, and was standing with back +against the adobe.</p> +<p>“’Cause I don’t know,” came petulant response. “I +only had the hunch when I saw you tame that outlaw in +the corral. If he pulls wires to lose <i>you</i>, I’ll stop guessing; +I’ll know!”</p> +<p>“Very interesting, señorita,” agreed the stranger reflectively. +“But if I have a good job, I can’t see how it +will give me aid or comfort to know that you’ve acquired +knowledge, and stopped guessing. When’s your time up +behind the bars?”</p> +<p>“Whenever my clothes get dry enough to fool the dear +home folks.”</p> +<p>“You must be a joy to the bosom of your family,” +he observed, “also a blessing.”</p> +<p>He heard again the girlish laughter and concluded she +could not be over sixteen. There was silence for a space +while only the creak of the grindstone cut the stillness. +Whoever she was, she had given him a brief illuminating +vision of the tactics of Conrad, the manager for the +ranches of Granados and La Partida, the latter being the +Sonora end of the old Spanish land grant. Even a girl +had noted that the rough work had been turned over to +a new American from the first circle of the <i>rodeo</i>. He +stood there staring out across the sage green to the far +purple hills of the Green Springs range.</p> +<p>“You’ve fixed that cinch, what you waiting for?” +asked the voice at last, and the young fellow straightened +up and lifted the saddle.</p> +<p>“That’s so,” he acknowledged. “But as you whistled +to me and the call seemed friendly, it was up to me to +halt for orders––from the lady in distress.”</p> +<p>Again he heard the soft laughter and the voice.</p> +<p>“Glad you liked the friendly call, Johnny Reb,” she +confessed. “That’s my call. If ever you hear it where +there are no larks, you’ll know who it is.”</p> +<p>“Sure,” he agreed, yanking at the cinch, “and I’ll come +a lopin’ with the bonnie blue flag, to give aid and succor +to the enemy.”</p> +<p>“You will not!” she retorted. “You’ll just whistle +back friendly, and be chums. I think my clothes are dry +now, and you’d better travel. If you meet anyone looking +for a stray maverick, you haven’t seen me.”</p> +<p>“Just as you say. <i>Adios!</i>”</p> +<p>After he had mounted and passed along the corral to +the road, he turned in the saddle and looked back. He +could see no one in the window of the bars, but there came +to him clear and sweet the field bugle of the meadow +lark.</p> +<p>He answered it, lifted his sombrero and rode soberly +towards the Granados corrals, three miles across the +valley. Queer little trick she must be. American girls +did not usually ride abroad alone along the border, and +certainly did not chum with the Mexicans to the extent +of borrowing shirts. Then as he lifted the bridle and +Pardner broke into a lope, he noted an elderly horseman +jogging along across trail on a little mule. Each eyed +the other appraisingly.</p> +<p>“Hello, Bub!” hailed the older man. “My name’s +Pike, and you’re the new man from California, hey? +Glad to meet you. Hear your name’s Rhodes.”</p> +<p>“I reckon you heard right,” agreed the young chap. +“K. Rhodes at your service, sir.”</p> +<p>“Hello! K? K? Does that K stand for Kit?”</p> +<p>“Center shot for you,” assented the other.</p> +<p>“From Tennessee?”</p> +<p>“Now you’re a sort of family historian, I reckon, Mr. +Pike,” suggested K. Rhodes. “What’s the excitement?”</p> +<p>“Why you young plantation stray!” and the older +man reached for his hand and made use of it pump-handle +fashion with a sort of sputtering glee. “Great +guns, boy! there was just one K. Rhodes a-top of God’s +green earth and we were pardners here in Crook’s day. +Hurrah for us! Are you cousin, son, or nephew?”</p> +<p>“My grandfather was with Crook.”</p> +<p>“Sure! I knew it soon as I laid eyes on you and heard +your name; that was in the corral with the outlaw Conrad +had driven in for you to work, it wa’n’t a square deal +to a white man. I was cussin’ mad.”</p> +<p>“So I heard,” and the blue eyes of the other smiled +at the memory of the girl’s glib repetition of his discourse. +“What’s the great idea? Aside from the fact +that he belongs to the white dove, anti-military bunch +of sisters, Singleton seems quite white, a nice chap.”</p> +<p>“Yeh, but he’s noways wise at that. He sort of married +into the horse game here, wasn’t bred to it. Just +knows enough to not try to run it solo. Now this Dolf +Conrad does know horses and the horse market, and +Granados rancho. He’s shipped more cavalry stock to +France than any other outfit in this region. Yes, Conrad +knows the business end of the game, but even at that he +might not assay as high grade ore. He is mixed up with +them too-proud-to-fight clique organized by old maids of +both sexes, and to show that he is above all prejudice, +political or otherwise, he sure is corraling an extra lot +of Mex help this year. I’ve <i>companeros</i> +I’d go through +hell for, but Conrad’s breed––well, enough said, Bub, +but they’re different!” Mr. Pike bit off a chew of black +plug, and shook his head ruminatively.</p> +<p>Rhodes looked the old man over as they rode along +side by side. He was lean, wiry and probably sixty-five. +His hair, worn long, gave him the look of the old-time +ranger. He carried no <i>reata</i> and did not look like a +ranchman. He had the southern intonation, and his eyes +were wonderfully young for the almost snowy hair.</p> +<p>“Belong in the valley, Captain?”</p> +<p>“Belong? Me belong anywhere? Not yet, son,” and +he smiled at his own fancy. “Not but what it’s a good +enough corner when a man reaches the settlin’ down age. +I drift back every so often. This ranch was Fred Bernard’s, +and him and me flocked together for quite a spell. +Singleton married Bernard’s widow––she’s dead now +these seven years. I just drift back every so often to keep +track of Bernard’s kid, Billie.”</p> +<p>“I see. Glad to have met you, Captain. Hope we can +ride together often enough for me to hear about the old +Apache days. This land has fetched out three generations +of us, so it surely has some pull! My father came +at the end of his race, but I’ve come in time to grow up +with the country.”</p> +<p>Captain Pike looked at him and chuckled. K. Rhodes +was about twenty-three, tall, almost boyish in figure, but +his shoulders and hands suggested strength, and his mouth +had little dents of humor at the corners to mitigate the +squareness of jaw and the heavy dark brows. His black +lashes made the deep blue of his eyes look purple. Young +he was, but with a stature and self-reliant manner as witness +of the fact that he was fairly grown up already.</p> +<p>“Where’d you learn horses, Bub?”</p> +<p>“Tennessee stock farm, and southern California +ranges. Then this neck of the woods seemed calling me, +and I trailed over to look after a bit of land in Yuma. +I wasted some time trying to break into the army, but they +found some eye defect that I don’t know anything about––and +don’t more than half believe! I had some dandy +prospecting plans after that, but there was no jingling in +my pockets––no outfit money, so I hailed Singleton as an +angel monoplaned down with the ducats. Yes sir, I had +all the dream survey made for a try at some gold trails +down here, going to take it up where the rest of the +family quit.”</p> +<p>“You mean that, boy?” The old man halted his mule, +and spat out the tobacco, staring at Rhodes in eager +anticipation.</p> +<p>“I sure do. Reckon I’ve inherited the fever, and can’t +settle down to any other thing until I’ve had one try at it. +Did do a little placer working in the San Jacinto.”</p> +<p>“And you’re broke?” Mr. Pike’s voice betrayed a +keen joy in the prospect.</p> +<p>“Flat,” stated K. Rhodes, eyeing the old gentleman +suspiciously, “my horse, saddle, field glass, and gun are +the only belongings in sight.”</p> +<p>“Ki-yi!” chirruped his new acquaintance gleefully, +“I knew when I got out of the blankets this morning I +was to have good luck of some sort, had a ‘hunch.’ You +can bet on me, Bub; you’ve struck the right rail, and I’m +your friend, your desert <i>companero</i>!”</p> +<p>“Yes, you sound real nice and friendly,” agreed K. +Rhodes. “So glad I’m flat broke that you’re having +hysterics over it. Typical southern hospitality. Hearty +welcome to our city, and so forth, and so forth!”</p> +<p>The old man grinned at him appreciatively. “Lord +boy!––I reckon I’ve been waiting around for you about +ten year, though I didn’t know what your name would +be when you come, and it couldn’t be a better one! We’ll +outfit first for the Three Hills of Gold in the desert, and +if luck is against us there we’ll strike down into Sonora +to have a try after the red gold of El Alisal. I’ve covered +some of that ground, but never had a pardner who would +stick. They’d beat it because of either the Mexicans or +the Indians, but <i>you</i>––say boy! It’s the greatest game +in the world and we’ll go to it!”</p> +<p>His young eyes sparkled in his weathered desert face, +and more than ten years were cast aside in his enthusiasm. +K. Rhodes looked at him askance.</p> +<p>“If I did not have a key to your sane and calm outlining +of prospects for the future, I might suspect loco +weed or some other dope,” he observed. “But the fact +is you must have known that my grandfather in his day +went on the trail of the Three Hills of Gold, and left +about a dozen different plans on paper for future trips.”</p> +<p>“Know it? Why boy, I went in with him!” shrilled +Captain Pike. “Know it? Why, we crawled out half +starved, and dried out as a couple of last year’s gourds. +We dug roots and were chewing our own boot tops when +the Indians found us. Sure, I know it. He went East to +raise money for a bigger outfit, but never got back––died +there.”</p> +<p>“Yes, then my father gathered up all the plans and +specifications and came out with a friend about fifteen +years ago,” added Rhodes. “They never got anywhere, +but he sort of worked the fever off, bought some land +and hit the trail back home. So I’ve been fairly well fed +up on your sort of dope, Captain, and when I’ve mended +that gone feeling in my pocketbook I may ‘call’ you on +the gold trail proposition. Even if you’re bluffing there’ll +be no come back; I can listen to a lot of ‘lost mine’ +vagaries. It sounds like home sweet home to me!”</p> +<p>“Bluff nothing! we’ll start next week.”</p> +<p>“No we won’t, I’ve got a job and made a promise, +got to help clean up the work here for the winter. Promised +to take the next load of horses East.”</p> +<p>“That’s a new one,” observed his new friend. “Conrad +himself has always gone East with the horses, or sent +Brehmen, his secretary. But never mind, Bub, the eastern +trip won’t take long. I’ll be devilin’ around getting our +outfit and when the chance comes––us for the Three +Hills of Gold!”</p> +<p>“It listens well,” agreed K. Rhodes, “cheeriest little +<i>pasear</i> I’ve struck in the county. We’ll have some great +old powwows, even if we don’t make a cent, and some +day you’ll tell me about the mental kinks in the makeup +of our Prussian friend, Conrad. He sounds interesting +to me.”</p> +<p>Captain Pike uttered a profane and lurid word or two +concerning Mr. Conrad, and stated he’d be glad when +Billie was of age. Singleton, and therefore Conrad, +would only have the management up to that time. Billie +would know horses if nothing else, and––Then he interrupted +himself and stared back the way he had come.</p> +<p>“I’m a forgetful old fool!” he stated with conviction. +“I meandered out to take a look around for her, and I +didn’t like the looks of that little dab of a saddle Conrad +had put on Pat. You didn’t see anything of her, did +you?”</p> +<p>“What does she look like?”</p> +<p>“A slip of a girl who rides like an Indian, rides a +black horse.”</p> +<p>“No, I’ve seen no one,” said the young chap truthfully +enough. “But who did you say your girl was?”</p> +<p>“You’ll find out if you hold your job long enough for +her to be of age,” said Pike darkly. “She’ll be your +boss instead of Conrad. It’s Billie Bernard, the owner of +Granados and La Partida.”</p> +<p>“Billie?”</p> +<p>“Miss Wilfreda, if you like it better.”</p> +<p>But K. Rhodes said he didn’t. Billie seemed to fit the +sort of girl who would garb herself in Pedro’s shirt and +whistle at him through the bars of the little window.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='CHAPTER_II_THE_RED_GOLD_LEGEND' id='CHAPTER_II_THE_RED_GOLD_LEGEND'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> +<h3>THE RED GOLD LEGEND</h3> +</div> +<p>It took less than a week for Kit Rhodes to conclude +that the girl behind the bars had a true inspiration +regarding his own position on her ranches. There was +no open hostility to him, yet it was evident that difficulties +were cleverly put in his way.</p> +<p>Not by Philip Singleton, the colorless, kindly disposed +gentleman of Pike’s description. But by various intangible +methods, he was made to feel an outsider by the +manager, Conrad, and his more confidential Mexican assistants. +They were punctiliously polite, too polite for a +horse-ranch outfit. Yet again and again a group of them +fell silent when he joined them, and as his work was +with the horse herds of La Partida, that part of the great +grant which spread over the border into Sonora, he was +often camped fifty miles south of the hacienda of Granados, +and saw no more of either the old prospector, or the +tantalizing girl of the voice and the whistle.</p> +<p>Conrad, however, motored down two or three times +concerning horses for eastern shipment, but Rhodes, the +new range capitan, puzzled considerably over those flying +visits, for, after the long drive through sand and alkali, +the attention he gave either herds or outfit was negligible. +In fact he scarcely touched at the camp, yet always did +some trifling official act coming or going to make record +that he had been there.</p> +<p>The Mexicans called him El Aoura, the buzzard, because +no man could tell when he would swoop over even +the farthest range of La Partida to catch them napping. +Yet there was some sort of curious bond between them +for there were times when Conrad came north as from +a long southern trail, yet the Mexicans were as dumb +men if it was referred to.</p> +<p>He was a compactly built, fair man of less than forty, +with thin reddish brown hair, brows slanting downward +from the base of the nose, and a profile of that curious +Teuton type reminiscent of a supercilious hound if one +could imagine such an animal with milk-blue eyes and +a yellow mustache with spiky turned-up ends.</p> +<p>But Rhodes did not permit any antipathy he might feel +towards the man to interfere with his own duties, and +he went stolidly about the range work as if in utter forgetfulness +of the dark prophecy of the girl.</p> +<p>If he was to lose his new job he did not mean that it +should be from inattention, and nothing was too trifling +for his notice. He would do the work of a range boss +twelve hours out of the day, and then put in extra time +on a night ride to the <i>cantina</i> at the south wells of La +Partida.</p> +<p>But as the work moved north and the consignment of +horses for France made practically complete, old Cap Pike +rode down to Granados corrals, and after contemplation +of the various activities of Rhodes, climbed up on the +corral fence beside him, where the latter was checking +off the accepted animals.</p> +<p>“You’re a cheerful idiot for work, Bub,” agreed the +old man, “but what the devil do you gain by doing so +much of the other fellow’s job? Pancho Martinez wasn’t +sick as he played off on you; you’re green to these Mexican +tricks.”</p> +<p>“Sure, I’m the original Green from Greenburg,” assented +his new <i>companero</i>. “Pancho was only more than +usually drunk last night, while I was fresh as a daisy and +eager to enlarge my geographic knowledge, also my linguistics, +Hi! Pedro! not the sorrel mare! Cut her out!”</p> +<p>“Linguistics?” repeated Pike impatiently.</p> +<p>“Yeh, nice little woman in the cantina at La Partida +wells. I am a willing pupil at Spanish love songs, and we +get along fine. I am already a howling success at <i>La +Paloma</i>, <i>La Golondrina</i>, and a few other sentimental +birds.”</p> +<p>“Oh, you are, are you?” queried Pike. “Well, take +a warning. You’ll get a knife in your back from her +man one of these fine nights, and the song will be <i>Adios, +adios amores</i> for you!”</p> +<p>“Nothing doing, Cap! We play <i>malilla</i> for the drinks, +and I work it so that he beats me two out of three. I’m +so easy I’m not worth watching. Women don’t fancy +fools, so I’m safe.”</p> +<p>“Well, I’ll be ‘strafed’ by the Dutch!” Pike stared at +the young fellow, frowning in perplexity. “You sure +have me puzzled, Bub. Are you a hopeless dunce by +training or nature?”</p> +<p>“Natural product,” grinned K. Rhodes cheerfully. +“Beauty unadorned. Say Cap, tell me something. What +is the attraction for friend Conrad south of La Partida? +I seem to run against a stone wall when I try to feel out +the natives on that point. Now just what lies south, and +whose territory?”</p> +<p>The old man looked at him with a new keenness.</p> +<p>“For your sort of an idiot you’ve blundered on a big +interrogation point,” he observed. “Did you meet him +down there?”</p> +<p>“No, only heard his voice in the night. It’s not very +easy to mistake that velvety blood-puddin’ voice of his, +and a team went down to meet him. He seems to go +down by another route, railroad I reckon, and comes in +by the south ranch. Now just what is south?”</p> +<p>“The ranches of Soledad grant join La Partida, or +aim to. There are no maps, and no one here knows +how far down over the border the Partida leagues do +reach. Soledad was an old mission site, and a fortified +hacienda back in the days of Juarez. Its owner was convicted +of treason during Diaz’ reign, executed, and the +ranches confiscated. It is now in the hands of a Federal +politician who is safer in Hermosillo. The revolutionists +are thick even among the pacificos up here, but the +Federals have the most ammunition, and the gods of war +are with the guns.”</p> +<p>“Sure; and who is the Federal politician? No, not +that colt, Marcito!”</p> +<p>“Perez, Don José Perez,” stated Pike, giving no heed +to corral interpolations. “He claims more leagues than +have ever been reckoned or surveyed, took in several +Indian rancherias last year when the natives were +rounded up and shipped to Yucatan.”</p> +<p>“What?”</p> +<p>“Oh, he is in that slave trade good and plenty! They +say he is sore on the Yaquis because he lost a lot of +money on a boat load that committed suicide as they +were sailing from Guaymas.”</p> +<p>“A boat load of suicides! Now a couple of dozen +would sound reasonable, but a boat load–––”</p> +<p>“But it happened to every Indian on the boat, and the +boat was full! No one knows how the poor devils decided +it, but it was their only escape from slavery, and +they went over the side like a school of fish. Men, +women, and children from the desert who couldn’t swim +a stroke! Talk about nerve––there wasn’t one weakling +in that whole outfit, not one! Perez was wild. It lost +him sixty dollars a head, American.”</p> +<p>“And that’s the neighbor friend Conrad takes a run +down south to see occasionally?”</p> +<p>“Who says so, Bub?”</p> +<p>The two looked at each other, eyes questioning.</p> +<p>“Look here, son,” said Pike, after a little, “I’ll hit any +trail with you barring Mexican politics. They all sell +each other out as regular as the seasons swing around, +and the man north of the line who gets tangled is sure +to be victim if he stays in long enough.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I don’t know! We have a statesman or two who +flirted with Sonora and came out ahead.”</p> +<p>“I said if he stayed in,” reminded Pike. “Sure we +have crooks galore who drift across, play a cut-throat +game and skip back to cover. The border is lined with +them on both sides. And Conrad–––”</p> +<p>“But Conrad isn’t in politics.”</p> +<p>“N-no. There’s no evidence that he is, but his +Mexican friends are. There are men on the Granados +now who used to be down on Soledad, and they are the +men who make the trips with him to the lower ranch.”</p> +<p>“Tomas Herrara and Chico Domingo?”</p> +<p>“I reckon you’ve sized them up, but remember, Kit, +I don’t cross over with you for any political game, and +I don’t know a thing!”</p> +<p>“All right, Captain, but don’t raise too loud a howl if +I fancy a <i>pasear</i> occasionally to improve my Spanish.”</p> +<p>The old man grumbled direful and profane prophecies +as to things likely to happen to students of Spanish love +songs in Sonora, and then sat with his head on one side +studying Kit ruminatively as he made his notes of the +selected stock.</p> +<p>“Ye know Bub, it mightn’t be so bad at that, if you +called a halt in time, for one of the lost mine trails calls +for Spanish and plenty of it. I’ve got a working knowledge, +but the farther you travel into Sonora the less +American you will hear, and that lost mine of the old +padres is down there along the ranges of Soledad somewhere.”</p> +<p>“Which one of the fifty-seven varieties have you +elected to uncover first?” queried Rhodes. “The last +time you were confidential about mines I thought the +‘Three Hills of Gold’ were mentioned by you.”</p> +<p>“Sure it was, but since you are on the Sonora end of +the ranch, and since you are picking up your ears to learn +Sonoran trails, it might be a good time to follow your +luck. Say, I’ll bet that every herder who drifts into the +<i>cantina</i> at La Partida has heard of the red gold of El +Alisal. The Yaquis used to know where it was before +so many of them were killed off; reckon it’s lost good +and plenty now, but nothing is hid forever and it’s waiting +there for some man with the luck.”</p> +<p>“We’re willing,” grinned Kit. “You are a great little +old dreamer, Captain. And there is a fair chance I may +range down there. I met a chap named Whitely from +over toward the Painted Hills north of Altar. Ranch +manager, sort of friendly.”</p> +<p>“Sure, Tom Whitely has some stock in a ranch over +there––the Mesa Blanca ranch––it joins Soledad on the +west. I’ve always aimed to range that way, but the lost +mine is closer than the eastern sierras––must be! The +trail of the early padres was farther east, and the mine +could not well be far from the trail, not more than a day’s +journey by mule or burro, and that’s about twenty miles. +You see Bub, it was found by a padre who wandered +off the trail on the way to a little branch mission, or +<i>visita</i>, as they call it, and it was where trees grew, for a +big alisal tree––sycamore you know––was near the outcrop +of that red gold. Well, that <i>visita</i> was where the +padres only visited the heathen for baptism and such +things; no church was built there! That’s what tangles +the trail for anyone trying to find traces after a hundred +years.”</p> +<p>“I reckon it would,” agreed Rhodes. “Think what +a hundred years of cactus, sand, and occasional <i>temblors</i> +can do to a desert, to say nothing of the playful zephyrs. +Why, Cap, the winds could lift a good-sized range of +hills and fill the baby rivers with it in that time, for the +winds of the desert have a way with them!”</p> +<p>A boy rode out of the whirls of dust, and climbed up +on the corral fence where Rhodes was finishing tally of +the horses selected for shipment. He was the slender, +handsome son of Tomas Herrara of whom they had been +speaking.</p> +<p>“It is a letter,” he said, taking a folded paper from his +hat. “The Señor Conrad is having the telegraph, and +the cars are to be ready for Granados.”</p> +<p>“Right you are, Juanito,” agreed Rhodes. “Tell +Señor Conrad I will reach Granados for supper, and +that all the stock is in.”</p> +<p>The lad whirled away again, riding joyously north, and +Rhodes, after giving final directions to the vaqueros, +turned his roan in the same direction.</p> +<p>“Can’t ride back with you, Cap, for I’m taking a little +<i>pasear</i> around past Herrara’s rancheria. I want to take +a look at that bunch of colts and size up the water there. +I’ve a hunch they had better be headed up the other valley +to the Green Springs tank till rains come.”</p> +<p>Captain Pike jogged off alone after some audible and +highly colored remarks concerning range bosses who +assumed the power of the Almighty to be everywhere the +same day. Yet as he watched the younger man disappear +over the gray-green range he smiled tolerantly for, after +all, that sort of a hustler was the right sort of partner +for a prospecting trip.</p> +<p>The late afternoon was a golden haze under a metal +blue sky; afar to the east, sharp edges of the mountains +cut purple zig-zags into the salmon pink of the horizon. +The rolling waves of the ranges were bathed in a sea of +rest, and now and then a bird on the mesquite along an +arroya, or resting on branch of flaring occotilla would +give out the foreboding call of the long shadows, for the +heart of the day had come and gone, and the cooler +air was waking the hidden things from siesta.</p> +<p>Kit Rhodes kept the roan at a steady lope along +the cattle trail, drinking in the refreshing sweetness of +the lonely ranges after hours of dust and heat and the +trampling horse herds of the corrals. Occasionally he +broke into songs of the ranges, love songs, death laments, +and curious sentimental ditties of love and wars of old +England as still crooned in the cabins of southern mountains.</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'><i>I had not long been married,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>A happy, happy bride!<br /> +When a handsome trooper captain<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Stepped up to our bedside,<br /> +“Rise up! rise up! young man,” he said,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>“And go along with me,<br /> +In the low, low lands of Holland<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>To fight for liberty.</i>”</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>The ancient song of the sad bride whose lover proved +false in the “low, low lands of Holland” trailed lugubriously +along the arroya in a totally irrelevant way, for +the singer was not at all sad. He was gaily alert, keen-eyed +and watchful, keeping time to the long lope with +that dubious versification.</p> +<p>“And they’re at it again pretty close to the ‘low, low +lands of Holland,’ Pardner,” he confided to the horse. +“And when you and I make a stake you’ll go on pasture, +I’ll hit the breeze for Canada or some other seaport, +and get one whack at the Boche brown rat on my own if +official America is too proud to fight, for</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'><i>Oh-h! oh-h! Oh-h!<br /> +In the low, low lands of Holland,<br /> +My love was false to me!”</i></p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>Then, after long stretches of sand dunes, mesquite +thickets, occasional wide cañons where <i>zacatan</i> meadows +rippled like waves of the sea in the desert air, he swung +his horse around a low hill and came in sight of the little +adobe of Herrara, a place of straggly enclosures of stakes +and wattles, with the corral at the back.</p> +<p>Another rider came over the hill beyond the corral, on +a black horse skimming the earth. Rhodes stared and +whistled softly as the black without swerving planted its +feet and slid down the declivity by the water tank, and +then, jumping the fence below, sped to the little <i>ramada</i> +before the adobe where its rider slid to the ground amid +a deal of barking of dogs and scattering of children.</p> +<p>And although Kit had never seen the rider before, he +had no difficulty as to recognition, and on a sudden impulse +he whistled the meadow-lark call loudly enough to +reach her ears.</p> +<p>She halted at the door, a bundle in her hand, and surveyed +the landscape, but failed to see him because he at +that moment was back of a clump of towering prickly +pear. And she passed on into the shadows of the adobe.</p> +<p>“That’s the disadvantage of being too perfect, Pardner,” +he confided to the roan, “she thinks we are a pair +of birds.”</p> +<p>He turned at the corner of the corral and rode around +it which took him back of the house and out of range +from the door, but the dogs set up a ki-yi-ing, and a flock +of youngsters scuttled to the corner of the adobe, and +stared as children of the far ranges are prone to stare at +the passing of a traveler from the longed-for highways +of the world.</p> +<p>The barking of the dogs and scampering of the children +evidently got on the nerves of the black horse left standing +at the vine-covered <i>ramada</i>, for after a puppy had +barked joyously at his heels he leaped aside, and once +turned around kept on going, trotting around the corral +after the roan.</p> +<p>Rhodes saw it but continued on his way, knowing he +could pick it up on his return, as the Ojo Verde tank was +less than a mile away. A boy under the <i>ramada</i> gave one +quick look and then fled, a flash of brown and a red +flapping end of a sash, up the cañoncita where the home +spring was shadowed by a large mesquite tree.</p> +<p>At first Rhodes turned in the saddle with the idea of +assisting in the catching of the black if that was the thing +desired, but it evidently was not.</p> +<p>“Now what has that <i>muchacho</i> on his mind that he +makes that sort of get-away after nothing and no pursuer +in sight? Pardner, I reckon we’ll squander a valuable +minute or two and gather in that black.”</p> +<p>He galloped back, caught the wanderer but kept right +on without pause to the trickle of water under the flat +wide-spreading tree––it was a solitaire, being king of +its own domain and the only shade, except the vine-covered +<i>ramada</i>, for a mile.</p> +<p>The startled boy made a movement as if to run again +as Kit rode up, then halted, fear and fateful resignation +changing the childish face to sullenness.</p> +<p>“<i>Buenas tardes</i>, Narcisco.”</p> +<p>“<i>Buenas tardes</i>, señor,” gulped the boy.</p> +<p>“I turned back to catch the horse of the señorita for +you,” observed Rhodes. “It is best you tie him when you +lead him back, but first give him water. Thirst is perhaps +the cause he is restless.”</p> +<p>“Yes señor,” agreed the lad. “At once I will do +that.” But he held the horse and did not move from his +tracks, and then Rhodes noticed that on the flat rock +behind him was a grain sack thrown over something, a +brown bottle had rolled a little below it, and the end of +a hammer protruded from under the sacking.</p> +<p>Ordinarily Rhodes would have given no heed to any +simple ranch utensils gathered under the shadow where +work was more endurable, but the fear in the face of the +boy fascinated him.</p> +<p>“Think I’ll give Pardner a drink while I am about it,” +he decided, and dismounted carelessly. “Got a cup that +I can take my share first?”</p> +<p>Narcisco had no cup, only shook his head and swallowed +as if the attempt at words was beyond him.</p> +<p>“Well, there is a bottle if it is clean,” and Rhodes +strode awkwardly towards it, but his spur caught in the +loose mesh of the sacking, and in loosening it he twisted +it off the rock.</p> +<p>Narcisco gasped audibly, and Rhodes laughed. He had +uncovered a couple of dozen empty whiskey bottles, and +a tin pan with some broken glass.</p> +<p>“What you trying to start up here in the cañon, +Buddy?” he asked. “Playing saloon-keeper with only +the gophers for customers?”</p> +<p>He selected a corked bottle evidently clean, rinsed and +drank from it.</p> +<p>“Yes––señor––I am here playing––that is all,” affirmed +Narcisco. “At the house Tia Mariana puts us out +because there is a new <i>niño</i>––my mother and the new +one sleep––and there is no place to make a noise.”</p> +<p>“Oh,” commented Rhodes, “well, let the black have +a little water, and lead him out of the way of mine. This +gully isn’t wide enough to turn around in.”</p> +<p>Obediently the boy led the black to the sunken barrel +catching seepage from the barrel under the drip. Rhodes +tossed the sack back to the flat rock and noted an old +canvas water bottle beside the heap, it was half full of +something––not water, for it was uncorked and the +mouth of it a-glitter with shimmering particles like diamond +dust, and the same powder was over a white spot +on the rock––the lad evidently was playing miller and +pounding broken glass into a semblance of meal.</p> +<p>“Funny stunt, that!” he pondered, and, smiling, +watched the frightened boy. “Herrara certainly is doing +a bit of collecting <i>vino</i> to have a stock of bottles that +size, and the poor kid’s nothing else to play with.”</p> +<p>He mounted and rode on, leaving Narcisco to lead the +black to his mistress. He could not get out of his mind +the fright in the eyes of the boy. Was Herrara a brute +to his family, and had Narcisco taken to flight to hide +his simple playthings under the mistaken idea that the +horseman was his father returned early from the ranges?</p> +<p>That was the only solution Rhodes could find to the +problem, though he milled it around in his mind quite +a bit. Unless the boy was curiously weak-minded and +frightened at the face of a stranger it was the only explanation +he could find, yet the boys of Herrara had +always struck him as rather bright. In fact Conrad had +promoted Juanito to the position of special messenger; +he could ride like the wind and never forget a word.</p> +<p>The shadows lengthened as he circled the little cañon +of the Ojo Verde and noted the water dripping from the +full tanks, ideal for the colt range for three months. He +took note that Herrara was not neglecting anything, +despite that collection of bottles. There was no wastage +and the pipes connecting the tanks were in good condition.</p> +<p>He rode back, care free and content, through the fragrant +valley. The cool air was following the lowering +sun, and a thin mauve veil was drifting along the hills +of mystery in the south; he sang as he rode and then +checked the song to listen to the flutelike call of a lark. +His lips curved in a smile as he heard it, and with it came +the thought of the girl and the barred window of Vijil’s +adobe.</p> +<p>She permeated the life of Granados just as the soft veil +enwrapped the far hills, and she had seemed almost as +far away if not so mysterious. Not once had he crossed +her trail, and he heard she was no longer permitted to +ride south of the line. The vaqueros commented on this +variously according to their own point of view. Some +of the Mexicans resented it, and in one way or another +her name was mentioned whenever problems of the future +were discussed. Singleton was regarded as temporary, +and Conrad was a salaried business manager. But on a +day to come, the señorita, as her mother’s daughter, would +be their mistress, and the older men with families showed +content at the thought.</p> +<p>Rhodes never could think of her as the chatelaine of +those wide ranges. She was to him the “meadow-lark +child” of jests and laughter, heard and remembered but +not seen. She was the haunting music of youth meeting +him at the gateway of a new land which is yet so old!</p> +<p>Some such vagrant thought drifted through his mind +as the sweet calls of the drowsy birds cut the warm +silence, now from some graceful palo verde along a barranca +and again from the slender pedestal of an occotilla.</p> +<p>“Lucky you, for you get an answer!” he thought +whimsically. “Amble along, Pardner, or the night +witches get us!”</p> +<p>And then he circled a little at the north of the cañon, +and the black horse, champing and fidgeting, was held +there across the trail by its rider.</p> +<p>“We are seeing things in broad daylight, Pardner, +and there ain’t no such animal,” decided Rhodes, but +Pardner whinnied, and the girl threw up her hand.</p> +<p>“This time I am a highwayman, the far-famed terror +of the ranges!” she called.</p> +<p>“Sure!” he conceded. “I’ve been thinking quite a +while that your term must be about up.”</p> +<p>She laughed at that, and came alongside.</p> +<p>“Didn’t you suppose I might have my time shortened +for good behavior?” she asked. “You never even ride +our way to see.”</p> +<p>“Me? Why, child, I’m so busy absorbing <i>kultur</i> from +your scientific manager that my spare moments for damsels +in distress are none too plenty. You sent out nary +a call, and how expect the lowest of your serfs to hang +around?”</p> +<p>“Serf? That’s good!” she said skeptically. “And say, +you must love Conrad about as much as Cap Pike does.”</p> +<p>“And that?”</p> +<p>“Is like a rattlesnake.”</p> +<p>“Don’t know that rattlesnake would be my first choice +of comparison,” remarked Rhodes. “Back in Tennessee +we have a variety beside which the rattlesnake is a +gentleman; a rattlesnake does his best to give warning of +intention, but the copperhead never does.”</p> +<p>“Copperhead! that’s funny, for you know Conrad’s +hair is just about the color of copper, dusty copper, faded +copper––copper with tin filings sifted through.”</p> +<p>“Don’t strain yourself,” laughed Rhodes. “That +beautiful blondness makes him mighty attractive to our +Mexican cousins.”</p> +<p>“They can have my share,” decided the girl. “I +could worry along without him quite awhile. He manages +to get rid of all the likeable range men <i>muy pronto</i>.”</p> +<p>Rhodes laughed until she stared at him frowningly, and +then the delicious color swept over her face.</p> +<p>“Oh, <i>you</i>!” she said, and Rhodes thought of sweet +peas, and pink roses in old southern gardens as her lips +strove to be straight, yet curved deliciously. No one had +mentioned to him how pretty she was; he had thought of +her as a browned tom-boy, but instead she was a shell-pink +bud on a slender stem, and wonder of wonders––she +rode a side-saddle in Arizona!</p> +<p>She noticed him looking at it.</p> +<p>“Are you going to laugh at that, too?” she demanded.</p> +<p>“Why no, it hadn’t occurred to me. It sort of looks +like home to me––our southern girls use them.”</p> +<p>She turned to him with a quick birdlike movement, +her gray eyes softened and trusting.</p> +<p>“It was my mother’s saddle, a wedding present from +the vaqueros of our ranches when she married my father. +I am only beginning to use it, and not so sure of myself +as with the one I learned on.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I don’t know,” he observed. “You certainly +looked sure when you jumped that fence at Herrara’s.”</p> +<p>She glanced at him quickly, curious, and then smiling.</p> +<p>“And it was you, not the meadow lark! You are too +clever!”</p> +<p>“And you didn’t answer, just turned your back on the +lonely ranger,” he stated dolefully, but she laughed.</p> +<p>“This doesn’t look it, waiting to go home with you,” +she retorted. “Cap Pike has been telling me about you +until I feel as if I had known you forever. He says you +are his family now, so of course that makes Granados +different for you.”</p> +<p>“Why, yes. I’ve been in sight of Granados as much as +twice since I struck this neck of the woods. Your manager +seems to think my valuable services are indispensable +at the southern side of this little world.”</p> +<p>“So that’s the reason? I didn’t know,” she said slowly. +“One would have to be a seventh son of a seventh son +to understand his queer ways. But you are going along +home today, for I am a damsel in distress and need to +be escorted.”</p> +<p>“You don’t look distressed, and I’ve an idea you could +run away from your escort if you took a notion,” he +returned. “But it is my lucky day that I had a hunch +for this cañon trail and the Green Springs, and I am +happy to tag along.”</p> +<p>They had reached Herrara’s corral and Rhodes glanced +up the little gulch to the well. The flat rock there was +stripped of the odd collection, and Narcisco stood at the +corner of the adobe watching them somberly.</p> +<p>“<i>Buenos tardes!</i>” called the girl. “Take care of the +<i>niño</i> as the very treasure of your heart!”</p> +<p>“Sure!” agreed the lad, “<i>Adios</i>, señorita.”</p> +<p>“Why the special guard over the treasure?” asked +Rhodes as their horses fell into the long easy lope side +by side. “The house seems full and running over, and +<i>niñitas</i> to spare.”</p> +<p>“There are never any to spare,” she reminded him, +“and this one is doubly precious for it is named for me––together +its saint and its two grandmothers! Benicia +promised me long ago that whether it was a boy or a girl +it would be Billie Bernard Herrara. I was just taking +the extra clothes I had Tia Luz make for him––and he +is a little black-eyed darling! Soon as he is weaned I’m +going to adopt him; I always did want a piccaninny for +my own.”</p> +<p>Rhodes guided his horse carefully around a barranca +edge, honeycombed by gophers, and then let his eyes rest +again on the lustrous confiding eyes, and the rose-leaf +lips.</p> +<p>Afterward he told himself that was the moment he +began to be bewitched by Billie Bernard.</p> +<p>But what he really said was––“Shoo, child, you’re +only a piccaninny yourself!” and they both laughed.</p> +<p>It was quite wonderful how old Captain Pike had managed +to serve as a family foundation for their knowledge +of each other. There was not a doubt or a barrier between +them, they were “home folks” riding from different +ways and meeting in the desert, and silently claiming +kindred.</p> +<p>The shadows grew long and long under the sun of the +old Mexic land, and the high heavens blazed above in +yellows and pinks fading into veiled blues and far misty +lavenders in the hollows of the hills.</p> +<p>The girl drew a great breath of sheer delight as she +waved her hands towards the fire flame in the west where +the desert was a trail of golden glory.</p> +<p>“Oh, I am glad––glad I got away!” she said in a +hushed half-awed voice. “It never––never could be like +this twice and we are seeing it! Look at the moon!”</p> +<p>The white circle in the east was showing through a net +of softest purple and the beauty of it caused them to +halt.</p> +<p>“Oh, it makes me want to sing, or to say my prayers, +or––to cry!” she said, and she blinked tears from her +eyes and smiled at him. “I reckon the colors would look +the same from the veranda, but all this makes it seem +different,” and her gesture took in the wide ranges.</p> +<p>“Sure it does,” he agreed. “One wants to yell, ‘Hurrah +for God!’ when a combination like this is spread before +the poor meek and lowly of the earth. It is a great stage +setting, and makes us humans seem rather inadequate. +Why, we can’t even find the right words for it.”</p> +<p>“It makes me feel that I just want to ride on and on, +and on through it, no matter which way I was headed.”</p> +<p>“Well, take it from me, señorita, you are headed the +right way,” he observed. “Going north is safe, but the +blue ranges of the south are walls of danger. The old +border line is a good landmark to tie to.”</p> +<p>“Um!” she agreed, “but all the fascinating things and +the witchy things, and the mysterious things are down +there over the border. I never get real joy riding north.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps because it is not forbidden, Miss Eve.”</p> +<p>Then they laughed again and lifted the bridles, and +the horses broke into a steady lope, neck and neck, +as the afterglow made the earth radiant and the young +faces reflected the glory of it.</p> +<p>“What was that you said about getting away?” he +queried. “Did you break jail?”</p> +<p>“Just about. Papa Singleton hid my cross-saddle +thinking I would not go far on this one. They have put +a ban on my riding south, but I just had to see my Billie +Bernard Herrara.”</p> +<p>“And you ran away?”</p> +<p>“N-no. We sneaked away mighty slow and still till +we got a mile or two out, and then we certainly burned the +wind. Didn’t we, Pat?”</p> +<p>“Well, as range boss of this end of the ranch I reckon +I have to herd you home, and tell them to put up the +fences,” said Rhodes.</p> +<p>“Yes, you will!” she retorted in derision of this highly +improbable suggestion.</p> +<p>“Surest thing you know! Singleton has good reasons +for restricting your little pleasure rides to Granados. Just +suppose El Gavilan, the Hawk, should cross your trail in +Sonora, take a fancy to Pat––for Pat is some <i>caballo</i>!––and +gather you in as camp cook?”</p> +<p>“Camp cook?”</p> +<p>“Why, yes; you can cook, can’t you? All girls should +know how to cook.”</p> +<p>“What if I do? I have cooked on the camp trips with +Cap Pike, but that doesn’t say I’ll ever cook for that +wild rebel, Ramon Rotil. Are you trying to frighten me +off the ranges?”</p> +<p>“No, only stating the case,” replied Rhodes lighting a +cigarette and observing her while appearing not to. +“Quite a few of the girls in the revolution camps are as +young as you, and many of them are not doing camp +work by their own choice.”</p> +<p>“But I––” she began indignantly.</p> +<p>“Oh yes, in time you would be ransomed, and for a +few minutes you might think it romantic––the ‘Bandit +Bride,’ the ‘Rebel Queen,’ the ‘Girl Guerrilla,’ and all +that sort of dope,––but believe me, child, by the time the +ransom was paid you would be sure that north of the line +was the garden spot of the earth and heaven enough for +you, if you could only see it again!”</p> +<p>She gave him one sulky resentful look and dug her heel +into Pat. He leaped a length ahead of the roan and +started running.</p> +<p>“You can pretend you are El Gavilan after a lark, and +see how near you will get!” she called derisively and +leaned forward urging the black to his best.</p> +<p>“You glorified gray-eyed lark!” he cried. “Gather +her in, Pardner!”</p> +<p>But he rode wide to the side instead of at the heels +of Pat and thus they rode neck and neck joyously while +he laughed at her intent to leave him behind.</p> +<p>The corrals and long hay ricks of Granados were now +in sight, backed by the avenue of palms and streaks of +green where the irrigation ditches led water to the outlying +fields and orchards.</p> +<p>“El Gavilan!” she called laughingly. “Beat him, Pat,––beat +him to the home gate!”</p> +<p>Then out of a fork of the road to the left, an automobile +swept to them from a little valley, one man was driving +like the wind and another waved and shouted. +Rhodes’ eyes assured him that the shouting man was +Philip Singleton, and he rode closer to the girl, grasped +her bridle, and slowed down his own horse as well as +hers.</p> +<p>“You’ll hate me some more for this,” he stated as she +tried to jerk loose and failed, “but that yelping windmill +is your fond guardian, and he probably thinks I am +trying to kidnap you.”</p> +<p>She halted at that, laughing and breathless, and waved +her hand to the occupants of the car.</p> +<p>“I can be good as an angel now that I have had my +day!” she said. “Hello folks! What’s the excitement?”</p> +<p>The slender man whom Rhodes had termed the yelping +windmill, removed his goggles, and glared, hopelessly +distressed at the flushed, half-laughing girl.</p> +<p>“Billie––Wilfreda!”</p> +<p>“Now, now, Papa Singleton! Don’t swear, and don’t +ever get frightened because I am out of sight.” Then +she cast one withering glance at Rhodes, adding,––“and +if you engage range bosses like this one no one on +Granados will ever get out of sight!”</p> +<p>“The entire house force has been searching for you +over two hours. Where have you been?”</p> +<p>“Oh, come along home to supper, and don’t fuss,” she +suggested. “Just because you hid my other saddle I went +on a little <i>pasear</i> of my own, and I met up with this roan +on my way home.”</p> +<p>Rhodes grinned at the way she eliminated the rider of +the roan horse, but the driver of the machine was not +deceived by the apparent slight. He had seen that half +defiant smile of comradeship, and his tone was not nice.</p> +<p>“It is not good business to waste time and men in this +way,” he stated flatly. “It would be better that word is +left with the right ones when you go over the border to +amuse yourself in Sonora.”</p> +<p>The smile went out of the eyes of the girl, and she held +her head very erect.</p> +<p>“You and Mr. Rhodes appear to agree perfectly, Mr. +Conrad,” she remarked. “He was trying to show me +how little chance I would stand against El Gavilan or +even the Yaqui slave traders if they ranged up towards +the border.”</p> +<p>“Slave traders?” repeated Conrad. “You are making +your jokes about that, of course, but the camp followers +of the revolution is a different thing;––everywhere they +are ranging.”</p> +<p>The girl did not answer, and the car sped on to the +ranch house while the two horses cantered along after +them, but the joyous freedom of the ride had vanished, +lost back there on the ranges when the other minds met +them in a clash.</p> +<p>“Say,” observed Rhodes, “I said nothing about Yaqui +slave traders. Where did you get that?”</p> +<p>“I heard Conrad and his man Brehman talking of the +profits,––sixty pesos a head I think it was. I wonder +how they knew?”</p> +<p>Singleton was waiting for them at the entrance to the +ranch house, great adobe with a patio eighty feet square +in the center. In the old old days it had housed all the +vaqueros, but now the ranchmen were divided up on +different outlying rancherias and the many rooms of +Granados were mostly empty. Conrad, his secretary +Brehman, and their cook occupied one corner, while Singleton +and Billie and Tia Luz with her brood of helpers +occupied the other.</p> +<p>Singleton was not equal to the large hospitality of the +old days when the owner of a hacienda was a sort of +king, dispensing favors and duties to a small army of +retainers. A companionable individual he was glad to +meet and chat or smoke with, but if the property had been +his own he would have sold every acre and spent the proceeds +in some city of the East where a gentleman could +get something for his money.</p> +<p>Conrad had halted a moment after Singleton climbed +out of the car.</p> +<p>“I sent word to Rhodes to come up from La Partida +because of the horse shipment,” he said looking across +the level where the two riders were just entering the palm +avenue. “Because of that it would seem he is to be +my guest, and I have room.”</p> +<p>“Oh, we all have room, more room than anything +else,” answered Singleton drearily, “but it will be as +Billie says. I see Pike’s nag here, and she always wants +Pike.”</p> +<p>The milky blue eyes of Conrad slanted towards Singleton +in discreet contempt of the man who allowed a wayward +girl to decide the guests or the housing of them. +But he turned away.</p> +<p>“The telephone will reach me if there is anything I +can do,” he said.</p> +<p>Singleton did not reply. He knew Conrad absolutely +disapproved of the range boss being accepted as a family +guest. Between Billie and Captain Pike, who was a privileged +character, he did not quite see how he could prevent +it in the case of Rhodes, although he was honestly so +glad to see the girl ride home safe that he would have +accepted any guest of the range she suggested.</p> +<p>“Papa Phil,” she said smiling up into his face teasingly, +“I’m on my native heath again, so don’t be sulky. +And I have a darling new namesake I’ve been making +clothes for for a month, and I’ll tell you all about him if +you’ll give Mr. Rhodes and me a good supper. He is +Cap Pike’s family, and will have the south corner room; +please tell Tia Luz.”</p> +<p>And when Billie was like that, and called him “Papa +Phil,” and looked up at him with limpid childish eyes, +there was never much else to be said.</p> +<p>“I’ll show Rhodes his quarters myself, and you make +haste and get your habit off. Luz has been waiting supper +an hour. Today’s paper reports a band of bandits running +off stock on the Alton ranch, and it is on the Arizona +side of the border. That should show you it is no time +to ride out of sight of the corrals.”</p> +<p>“Now, now! you know the paper raids aren’t real +raids. They’ll have a new one to get excited over tomorrow.”</p> +<p>She ran away to be petted and scolded and prayed +for by Tia Luz, who had been her nurse, and was now +housekeeper and the privileged one to whom Billie turned +for help and sympathy.</p> +<p>“You laugh! but the heart was melting in me with the +fear,” she grumbled as she fastened the yellow sash over +the white lawn into which Billie had dashed hurriedly. +“It is not a joke to be caught in the raiding of Ramon +Rotil, or any of the other accursed! Who could think +it was south you were riding? I was the one to send them +north in the search, every man of them, and Señor Conrad +looks knives at me. That man thinks I am a liar, sure +he does! and the saints know I was honest and knew +nothing.”</p> +<p>“Sure you know nothing, never could and never did, +you dear old bag of cotton,” and Billie pinched affectionately +the fat arm of Tia Luz and tickled her under +her fat chin. “Quick Luzita, and fasten me up. Supper +waits, and men are always raving wolves.”</p> +<p>She caught up a string of amber beads and clasped it +about her throat as she ran across the patio, and Kit +Rhodes halted a moment in the corridor to watch her.</p> +<p>“White and gold and heavenly lovely,” he thought as +he rumpled his crisp brown curls meditatively, all forgetful +of the earnest attempts he had just made to smooth +them decorously with the aid of a damp towel and a +pocket comb. “White and gold and a silver spoon, and a +back seat for you, Kittie boy!”</p> +<p>Captain Pike emerged from a door at the corner of the +patio. He also had damp hair, a shiny face, and a brand-new +neckerchief with indigo circles on a white ground.</p> +<p>“Look at this, will you?” he piped gleefully. “Billie’s +the greatest child ever! Always something stuck under +the pillow like you’d hide candy for a kid, and say,––if +any of the outfit would chuck another hombre in my bunk +the little lady would raise hell from here to Pinecate, +and worse than that there ain’t any this side of the +European centers of civilization. Come on in, supper’s +ready.”</p> +<p>Rhodes hesitated at the door of the dining room, suddenly +conscious of a dusty blouse and a much faded shirt. +His spurs clink-clanked as he strode along the tiling of +the patio, and in the semi-twilight he felt at home in the +ranch house, but one look at the soft glow of the shaded +lamps, and the foot deep of Mexican needlework on the +table cover, gave him a picture of home such as he had +not seen on the ranges.</p> +<p>Singleton was in spotless white linen, the ideal southern +ranchman’s home garb, while the mistress of all the enticing +picture was in white and gold, and flushing pink +as she met the grave appreciative gaze of Rhodes.</p> +<p>“H’lo little Santa Claus,” chirruped Pike. “It’s just +the proper caper to set off my manly beauty, so I’m one +ahead of Kit who has no one to garnish him for the feast––and +it sure smells like some feast!”</p> +<p>“Venison perhaps a trifle overdone, but we hope it +won’t disappoint you,” remarked Singleton. “Have this +seat, Mr. Rhodes. Captain Pike and Miss Bernard always +chum together, and have their own side.”</p> +<p>“Rather,” decided Pike, “and that arrangement reaches +back beyond the memory of mere man in this outfit.”</p> +<p>“I should say,” agreed the girl. “Why, he used to +have to toss me over his head a certain number of times +before I would agree to be strapped in my high chair.”</p> +<p>“Yep, and I carpentered the first one, and it wasn’t so +bad at that! Now child, if you will pass the lemons, and +Kit will pass the decanter of amber, and someone else +will rustle some water, I’ll manufacture a tonic to take +the dust out of your throats.”</p> +<p>“Everybody works but father,” laughed Billie as the +Chinaman sliced and served the venison, and Tia Luz +helped supply all plates, and then took her place quietly +at the lower end of the table and poured the strong fragrant +coffee.</p> +<p>Rhodes spoke to her in Spanish, and her eyes lit up with +kindly appreciation.</p> +<p>“Ah, very good!” she commented amicably. “You +are not then too much Americano?”</p> +<p>“Well, yes, I’m about as American as you find them +aside from the Apache and Pima and the rest of the +tribes.”</p> +<p>“Maybe so, but not gringo,” she persisted. “I am +scared of the Apache the same as of El Gavilan, and +today my heart was near to stop going at all when we lose +señorita and that black horse––and I say a prayer for +you to San Antonio when I see you come fetch her home +again.”</p> +<p>“Yes, the black horse is valuable,” remarked Billie. +“Huh! I might as well be in a convent for all I get to +see of the ranges these late days. If anyone would grubstake +me, I’d break loose with Cap here and go prospecting +for adventures into some of the unnamed ranges.”</p> +<p>“You see!” said Tia Luz. “Is it a wonder I am cold +with the fear when she is away from my eyes? I have +lived to see the people who go into the desert for adventure, +and whose bare bones are all any man looks on +again! Beside the mountain wells of Carrizal my own +cousin’s husband died; he could not climb to the tank +in the hill. There they found him in the moon of Kumaki, +which is gray and nothing growing yet.”</p> +<p>“Yes, many’s the salt outfit in the West played out +before they reached Tinajas Altas,” said Pike. “I’ve +heard curious tales about that place, and the Carrizals as +well. Billie’s father nearly cashed in down in the Carrizals, +and one of his men did.”</p> +<p>“But that is what I am saying. It was Dario Ruiz,” +stated Tia Luz. “Yes, señor, that was the time, and it +was for the nameless ranges they went seeking, and for +adventures, treasure too; but––his soul to God! it was +death Dario was finding on that trail. Your father never +would speak one word again of the treasure of that old +fable, for Dario found death instead of the red gold, and +Dario was <i>compadre</i> to him.”</p> +<p>“The red gold?” and Cap Pike’s eyes were alight with +interest. “Why, I was telling Kit about that today, the +red gold of El Alisal.”</p> +<p>“Yes, Señor Capitan, once so rich and so red it was a +wonder in Spain when the padres are sending it there +from the mission of Soledad, and then witches craft, like +a cloud, come down and cover that mountain. So is the +vein lost again, and it is nearly one hundred years. So +how could Dario think to find it when the padres, with +all their prayer, never once found the trail?”</p> +<p>“I never heard it was near a mission,” remarked Pike. +“Why, if it had a landmark like that there should be no +trouble.”</p> +<p>“Yet it is so, and much trouble, also deaths,” stated +Tia Luz. “That is how the saying is that the red gold +of El Alisal is gold bewitched, for of Soledad not one +adobe is now above ground unless it be in the old walls of +the hacienda. All is melted into earth again or covered by +the ranch house, and it is said the ranch house is also +neglected now, and many of its old walls are going.”</p> +<p>“There are still enough left to serve as a very fair +fortress,” remarked Singleton. “I was down there two +years ago when we bought some herds from Perez, and +lost quite a number from lack of water before the +vaqueros got them to La Partida wells. It is a long way +between water holes over in Altar.”</p> +<p>“Sure,” agreed Pike, “but if the old mine was near a +mission, and the mission was near the ranch of Soledad +it should not be a great stunt to find it, and there must be +water and plenty of it if they do much in cattle.”</p> +<p>“They don’t these days,” said Singleton. “Perez sold +a lot rather than risk confiscation, and I heard they did +have some raids down there. I thought I had heard most +of the lost mine legends of western Sonora, but I never +heard of that one, and I never heard that Fred Bernard +went looking for it.”</p> +<p>The old woman lifted her brows and shrugged her +shoulders with the suggestion that Sonora might hold +many secrets from the amicable gentleman. But a little +later, in an inquiry from Rhodes she explained.</p> +<p>“See you, señor, Dario Ruiz was <i>compadre</i> of Señor +Alfredo Bernard, Americanos not understanding all in +that word, and the grandfather of Dario was major-domo +of the rancho of Soledad at that time the Apaches +are going down and killing the people there. That is +when the mine was lost. On the skin of a sheep it was +told in writing all about it, and Dario had that skin. +Sure he had! It was old and had been buried in the sand, +and holes were eaten in it by wild things, but Don Alfredo +did read it, and I was hearing the reading of it to Dario +Ruiz, but of what use the reading when that mine bewitched +itself into hiding?”</p> +<p>“But the writing? Did that bewitch itself away also?” +demanded Billie.</p> +<p>“How could I be asking of that when Dario was dead +down there in the desert, and his wife, that was my +cousin Anita, was crazy wild against Don Alfredo the +father of you! Ai, that was a bad time, and Don Alfredo +with black silence on him for very sorrow. And never +again in his life did he take the Sonora trail for adventures +or old treasure. And it is best that you keep to a +mind like his mind, señorita. He grew wise, but Dario +died for that wisdom, and in Sonora someone always +dies before wisdom is found. First it was two priests +went to death for that gold, and since that old day many +have been going. It is a witchcraft, and no blessing +on it!”</p> +<p>“Well, I reckon I’d be willing to cross my fingers, and +take the trail if I could get started right,” decided Rhodes. +“It certainly sounds alluring.”</p> +<p>“I did go in once,” confessed Pike, “but we had no +luck, struck a <i>temporale</i> where a Papago had smallpox, +and two dry wells where there should have been water. +My working pardner weakened at Paradones and we +made tracks for the good old border. That is no trail for +a lone white man.”</p> +<p>“But the writing, the writing!” persisted Billie. “Tia +Luz, you are a gold mine yourself of stories, but this +one you never told, and I am crazy about it! You never +forget anything, and the writing you <i>could</i> not,––so we +know you have the very words of that writing!”</p> +<p>“Yes, that is true too, for the words were not so many, +and where some words had been the wild things had +eaten holes. The words said that from the mine of El +Alisal the mission of Soledad could be seen. And from +the door of Soledad it was one look, one only, to the +blue cañoncita where the alisal tree was growing, and +water from the gold of the rose washed the roots of that +tree.”</p> +<p>“Good God!” muttered Rhodes staring at the old lady +who sat nodding her head in emphasis until her jet and +gold earrings were all a-twinkle. “It was as easy as <i>that</i>,––yet +no one found it?”</p> +<p>“But señor,”––and it was plain to be seen that Doña +Luz was enjoying herself hugely as the center of all +attention, “the two padres who made that writing met +their death at that place––and it was said the <i>barbaros</i> +at last killed also the grandfather of Dario, anyway he +did die, and the women were afraid to tell even a new +padre of that buried writing for the cause that it must +have been accursed when it killed all people. That is how +it was, and that mission was forsaken after that time. +A Spaniard came up from Sinaloa and hunted gold and +built Soledad hacienda where that mission had been in +that old time, but no one ever found any more of gold +than the chickens always are picking, a little here, a little +there with a gravel in the craw. No señor, only once +the red gold––red as flame––went out of Altar on a +mule to the viceroy in Mexico, and the padres never lived +to send any more, or see their brothers again. The men +who dug that gold dug also their grave. Death goes +with it.”</p> +<p>“Ugh!” and Billie shivered slightly, and looked at +Rhodes, “don’t you go digging it!”</p> +<p>His eyes met hers across the table. It was only for an +instant, and then Billie got very busy with her coffee +which she had forgotten.</p> +<p>“Oh, I’d travel with a mascot to ward off evil,” he +said. “Would you give me a bead from your string?”</p> +<p>She nodded her head, but did not speak. No one +noticed them, for Cap Pike was telling of the old native +superstition that the man who first found an ore bed found +no good luck for himself, though the next man might +make a fortune from it.</p> +<p>“Why,” he continued in evidence, “an Indian who finds +even a vein of special clay for pottery doesn’t blaze a +trail to it for anyone else. He uses it if he wants it, because +his own special guardian god uncovered it for him, +but if it is meant for any other man, that other man’s god +will lead him to it when the time comes. That is how they +reason it out for all the things covered by old Mother +Earth. And I reckon the redder the gold the more secret +the old <i>barbaros</i> would be about it, for gold is their sun-god +medicine, or symbol, or something.”</p> +<p>“With white priests scattered through Sonora for two +centuries one would suppose those old superstitions would +be pretty well eradicated,” remarked Singleton.</p> +<p>Doña Luz glanced at him as at a child who must be let +have his own ideas so long as they were harmless, but +Pike laughed.</p> +<p>“Lord love you, Singleton, nothing eradicates superstition +from the Indian mind, or any other mind! All +the creeds of the earth are built on it, and a lot of the +white ones are still alive and going strong! And as for +priests, why man, the Indian priests are bred of those +tribes, and were here before the white men came from +Spain. It’s just about like this: If ‘Me und Gott’ and +the U-boats took a notion to come over and put a ball +and chain on all of so-called free America, there might +be some pacifist mongrels pretend to like it, and just +dote on putting gilt on the chain, and kow-towing to that +blood-puddin’ gang who are raising hell in Belgium. But +would the thoroughbreds like it? Not on your life! +Well, don’t you forget there were a lot of thoroughbreds +in the Indian clans even if some of their slaves did breed +mongrels! And don’t forget that the ships from overseas +are dumping more scrub stock on the eastern shores right +now than you’ll find in any Indian rancheria either here in +Pima or over in Sonora. The American isn’t to blame +for all the seventeen dozen creeds they bring over,––whether +political or religious, and I reckon that’s about +the way the heads of the red clans feel. They are more +polite than we are about it, but don’t you think for a +moment that the European invasion ever changed religion +for the Indian thoroughbred. No sir! He is still close +to the earth and the stars, and if he thinks they talk to +him––well, they just <i>talk to him</i>, and what they tell him +isn’t for you or me to hear,––or to sit in judgment on +either, if it comes to that! We are the outsiders.”</p> +<p>“Now, Cap,” said Billie, “I’m going to take it away. +It’s too near your elbow, and you have had a double dose +for every single one you’ve been handing out! You can +take a rest until the others catch up. Tia Luz, give him +a cup of coffee good and strong to help get his politics +and religion straightened out.”</p> +<p>Pike laughed heartily with the rest of them, and took +the coffee.</p> +<p>“All right, dear little Buttercup. Any medicine you +hand out is good to me. But say, that dope about hidden +ores may not be all Indian at that, for I recollect that +mountaineers of Tennessee had the same hunch about +coal veins, and an old lead vein where one family went +for their ammunition. They could use it and they did, +but were mighty sure they’d all be hoodooed if they uncovered +it for anyone else, so I reckon that primitive +dope does go pretty far back. I’ll bet it was old when +Tubal Cain first began scratching around the outcroppings +by his lonesomes.”</p> +<p>Conrad sauntered along the corridor and seated himself, +flicking idly some leather thongs he had cut out +from a green hide with a curved sheath knife rather fine +and foreign looking. Singleton called him to come in +and have coffee, but he would not enter, pleading his +evil-smelling pipe as a reason.</p> +<p>“It can’t beat mine for a downright bachelor equipment,” +affirmed Pike, “but I’ve scandalized this outfit +enough, or thereabout, and that venison has killed all +our appetites until breakfast, so why hang around where +ungrateful children swat a man’s dearest hobbies?”</p> +<p>“If you think you’ll get rid of me that way you had +better think again,” said Billie. “I don’t mind your old +smokes, or any other of your evil ways, so long as you +and Tia Luz tell us more bewitched mine stories. Say, +Cap, wouldn’t it be great if that old sheepskin was found +again, and we’d all outfit for a Sonora <i>pasear</i>, and–––”</p> +<p>“We would not!” decided the old man patting her +hair. “You, my lady, will take a <i>pasear</i> to some highbrow +finishing school beyond the ranges, and I’ll hit the +trail for Yuma in a day or two, but at the present moment +you can wind up the music box and start it warbling. +That supper sure was so perfect nothing but music will +do for a finish!”</p> +<p>The men drifted out in the corridor and settled into +the built-in seats of the plazita, though Rhodes remained +standing in the portal facing inward to the patio where +the girl’s shimmering white dress fluttered in the moonlight +beside the shadowy bulk of Tia Luz.</p> +<p>He lit a cigarette and listened for the music box Pike +had suggested, but instead he heard guitar strings, and +the little ripple of introduction to the old Spanish serenade +<i>Vengo a tu ventana</i>, “I come to your window.”</p> +<p>He turned and glanced towards the men who were +discussing horse shipments, and possibilities of the Prussian +sea raiders sinking transports on the way to France, +but decided his part of that discussion could wait until +morning.</p> +<p>Tia Luz had lit the lamp in the <i>sala</i>, and the light +streamed across the patio where the night moths fluttered +about the white oleanders. He smiled in comical self-derision +as he noticed the moths, but tossed away the +cigarette and followed the light.</p> +<p>When Captain Pike indulged the following morning in +sarcastic comment over Kit’s defection, the latter only +laughed at him.</p> +<p>“Shirk business? Nothing doing. I was strictly on +the job listening to local items on treasure trails instead +of powwowing with you all over the latest news reports +from the Balkans. Soon as my pocket has a jingle +again, I am to get to the French front if little old U. S. +won’t give me a home uniform, but in the meantime +Doña Luz Moreno is some reporter if she is humored, +and I mean to camp alongside every chance I get. She +has the woman at the <i>cantina</i> backed off the map, and my +future Spanish lessons will be under the wing of Doña +Luz. Me for her!”</p> +<p>“Avaricious young scalawag!” grunted Pike. “You’d +study African whistles and clicks and clacks if it blazed +trail to that lost gold deposit! Say, I sort of held the +others out there in front thinking I would let you get +acquainted with little Billie, and you waste the time +chinning about death in the desert, and dry camps to that +black-and-tan talking machine.”</p> +<p>Kit only laughed at him.</p> +<p>“A record breaker of a moon too!” grumbled the old +man. “Lord!––lord! at your age I’d crawled over hell +on a rotten rail to just sit alongside a girl like Billie––and +you pass her up for an old hen with a mustache, and +a gold trail!”</p> +<p>Kit Rhodes laughed some more as he got into the +saddle and headed for the Granados corral, singing:</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'><i>Oh––I’ll cut off my long yellow hair<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>To dress in men’s array,<br /> +And go along with you, my dear<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Your waiting man to be!</i></p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>He droned out the doleful and incongruous love ballad +of old lands, and old days, for the absurd reason that the +youth of the world in his own land beat in his blood, and +because in the night time one of the twinkling stars of +heaven had dropped down the sky and become a girl of +earth who touched a guitar and taught him the words +of a Spanish serenade,––in case he should find a Mexican +sweetheart along the border!</p> +<p>For to neither of the young, care-free things, had come +a glimmer of fore-vision of the long tragic days, treasure +trails and desert deaths, primitive devotions and +ungodly vengeance, in which the threads of their own +lives would be entangled before those two ever heard +the music of the patio again––together.</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'><i>If in Holland fields I met a maid<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>All handsome fond and gay,<br /> +And I should chance to love her<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>What would my Mary say?</i><br /> +<br /> +<i>What would I say, dear Willie?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>That I would love her too,<br /> +And I would step to the one side<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>That she might speak with you!</i></p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>“Yes, you would––not!” he stated in practical prose +to no one in particular. “Not if you were our girl, would +she, Pardner?”</p> +<p>Pardner tossed up his head in recognition of the comradeship +in the tone, and Kit Rhodes became silent, and +rode on to the corrals, happily smiling at some new +thoughts.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='CHAPTER_III_A_VERIFIED_PROPHECY_OF_SEORITA_BILLIE' id='CHAPTER_III_A_VERIFIED_PROPHECY_OF_SEORITA_BILLIE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> +<h3>A VERIFIED PROPHECY OF SEÑORITA BILLIE</h3> +</div> +<p>That smile was yet with him when he saw the herd +and the vaqueros coming up from the water tanks, +and noted Conrad and Tomas Herrara talking together +beside Conrad’s automobile.</p> +<p>The beat of the many hoofs prevented the two men +from noting one horse near them, and words of Conrad +came to him clearly.</p> +<p>“It has to be that way. You to go instead of Miguel. +You have enough English, you can do it.”</p> +<p>Tomas Herrara muttered something, evidently reluctance, +for again Conrad’s words were heard.</p> +<p>“But think of the <i>dinero</i>, much of money to you! +And that fool swine will not see what is under his nose. +You can do it, sure you can! There is no danger. The +blame will be to him if it is found; my agent will see +to that. Not you but the gringo will be the one to answer +the law. You will know nothing.”</p> +<p>He spoke in Spanish rapidly, while both men watched +the approaching vaqueros.</p> +<p>The smile had gone from Kit’s face, and he was puzzled +to follow the words, or even trust his own ears.</p> +<p>“<i>Bueno,</i>” said Herrara with a nod of consent. “Since +Miguel is hurt–––”</p> +<p>“Whoa, Pardner,” sang out Rhodes, back of them +as he slid out of the saddle. “Good morning, gentlemen. +Do you say Miguel is hurt, Herrara? How comes +that?”</p> +<p>The face of Herrara went a curious gray, and his lips +blue and apparently stiff for he only murmured, “<i>Buenas +dias</i>, señor,” and gulped and stared at Conrad. But +the surprise of Conrad, while apparent, was easily accounted +for, and he was too well poised to be startled +unduly by any emergency.</p> +<p>“Hah! Is it you, Rhodes, so early? Yes, Miguel is +reported hurt over Poso Verde way. Not serious, but +for the fact that he was the one to go with you on the +horse shipment, and now another must go. Perhaps his +brother here.”</p> +<p>“Oh––ah––yes,” assented Rhodes thoughtfully. He +was not so old as Conrad, and quite aware he was not +so clever, and he didn’t know their game, so he strove +as he could to hold the meaning of what he had heard, +and ended rather lamely: “Well, too bad about Miguel, +but if you, Tomas, are going instead, you had better get +your war togs ready. We start tonight from the Junction, +and have three hours to get ready.”</p> +<p>“Three hours only!” again Herrara seemed to +weaken. To start in three hours a journey into the unknown +far East of the Americano was beyond his imaginings. +He shrugged his shoulders, tossed his hands outwards +in despair, and turned toward the barns.</p> +<p>Conrad looked after him in irritation, and then smiled +at Rhodes. He had a rather ingratiating smile, and it +the first time he had betrayed it to Kit.</p> +<p>“These explosive Latins,” he said derisively. “I +think I can make him reasonable, and you go forward +with your own preparations.”</p> +<p>He followed Herrara, leaving Kit staring after them +wondering. His glance then rested on the automobile, +and he noted that it had not merely come out of the +garage for the usual work of the day. It had been traveling +somewhere, for the wheels were crusted with mud––mud +not there at sunset yesterday. And in that section +of Pima there was no water to make mud nearer +than Poso Verde, and it was over there Miguel Herrara +had been hurt!</p> +<p>He had only three hours, and no time to investigate. +There were rumors of smuggling all along the line over +there, and strange conferences between Mexican statesmen +and sellers of Connecticut hardware of an explosive +nature. He recalled having heard that Singleton was +from Connecticut, or was it Massachusetts? Anyway, +it was over there at the eastern edge of the country somewhere, +and it was also where plots and counter plots were +pretty thick concerning ammunition; also they were more +complicated on the Mexican border. He wondered if +Singleton was as simple as he looked, for he certainly +was paying wages to a mixed lot. Also it was a cinch to +run any desirable contraband from Granados across to +La Partida and from there hellwards.</p> +<p>He wondered if Singleton knew? But Singleton had +a capable business manager, while he, Rhodes, was only +a range boss with the understanding that he adjust himself +to any work a white man might qualify for.</p> +<p>The mere fact that once he had sat at the family table +might not, in Singleton’s eyes, warrant him in criticizing +an approved manager, or directing suspicion towards +him. He might speak to Pike, but he realized that Pike +was not taken very seriously; only welcomed because +Billie liked him, and because an American ranch usually +had the open door for the old timers of his caliber.</p> +<p>Also Pike had told him plainly that he must not be +expected to mix up in the Mexican game for any reason +whatsoever.</p> +<p>“I reckon it’s up to us, Pardner,” he decided, as he +called directions to the different men loading the wagons +with oats and barley for the stock on the trail. There +were three mule teams ready for the railroad junction +where the cars were waiting on the siding, or would be +by night.</p> +<p>Some of the men were getting the mules straightened +out in the harness while others were roping horses in +the corral. It would take most of the home outfit to lead +and drive them to the railroad, which meant one lonely +and brief period of hilarity at the only joint where +“bootleg” whiskey could be secured by the knowing, and +a “movie” theater could add to other simple entertainments +for the gentle Juans of the ranges. Neither Conrad +nor Herrara were visible, and he presumed the latter +was making arrangements for the sudden and unexpected +departure from his family, but he knew he had not attempted +to ride home for a farewell greeting, because his +horse still stood near Conrad’s automobile where he had +first overheard that curious conversation between the two +men.</p> +<p>After a leisurely breakfast Pike was meandering towards +the stock yard on his mule with the intent to trail +along to the Junction with the boys. Rhodes, catching +sight of him, looked hopefully but unsuccessfully for Singleton. +The minutes were slipping by, and no definite +instructions had been given him concerning the three +car loads of horses. Did Conrad mean to leave every +detail until the last moment and make difficulties for the +new man? Was that the way he got rid of the Americans +he didn’t want? He recalled the prophecy of Billie +that he would not hold his job. Well, he would show +her!</p> +<p>With memories of the white and gold vision of the +previous night, and the guitar in the <i>sala</i>, and the moonlight +touching all to enchantment, he had fully decided +that he would not only hold the job, but on some future +day he would be business manager. And he’d find that +lost mine or know the reason why, and he would–––</p> +<p>For after all Kit Rhodes was only twenty-three and +all of life ahead of him for dreams! He was wondering +what he could fetch back from the East that would +be acceptable to a witchy elf of a butterfly girl who already +had, to his simple estimate, all the requisites of a +princess royal.</p> +<p>Juanito came loping past, and Rhodes asked for his +father.</p> +<p>“I am myself looking for him,” said the boy. “He has +there on his horse all the things for Tio Miguel, but +Miguel not coming, and I wonder who goes? Maybe it +will be me. What you think?” he asked hopefully.</p> +<p>Kit did not answer, for Juanito’s mention of the articles +for Miguel brought from home by Tomas, and still +fastened to the back of the saddle, drew his attention to +the articles tied there––some clothing badly wrapped, a +pair of black shoes tied together with brown strings, +and under them, yet plainly visible, a canvas water bag.</p> +<p>There was nothing unusual in a water bag or a canteen +tied back of any saddle in the dry lands, it was the +sensible thing to do, but Kit found himself staring at this +particular water bag stupidly, remembering where he had +seen it last. It had been only partly full then, but now +it was plump and round as if water-filled; yet one glance +told him it was not wet, and moreover, he had noted the +day before a hole in the side tied up in a hard knot by +twine, and there was the knot!</p> +<p>Yet it might be a stock of <i>pinole</i>, parched corn, as evidence +of Miguel’s forethought against privation on the +long eastern trail. He could think of several reasonable +things to account for an old water bag tied to a Mexican’s +saddle, but reason did not prevent his glance turning +to it again and again.</p> +<p>The fear in Narcisco’s eyes came back to him, and his +attempt to cover his harmless playthings at the coming +of the unexpected American. He wondered–––</p> +<p>“Say, Bub, I’ve got ten dollars to invest in some little +trinket for Billie boy, and I want you to put it down in +your jeans and invest it in whatever it will cover,” said +Captain Pike at his elbow, clinking the silver coin meditatively. +“You’ll have time to see plenty attractive things +for the money there in the streets of New York, or Baltimore, +or whichever of the dock towns you’ll be heading +for.”</p> +<p>Rhodes accepted the coin, absently frowning.</p> +<p>“That’s one of the dark secrets not yet divulged by +this curious management,” he growled. “I’m to go, or +so I was told, but have been given no instructions. +Where’s Singleton?”</p> +<p>“Just rounded up for breakfast.”</p> +<p>“Is he coming down here to the corrals?”</p> +<p>“Not that I could notice. Pedro got in from the Junction +with last Sunday’s papers, and he and Billie have the +picture sheets spread around, having a weekly feast.”</p> +<p>Kit strode over to his mount, and then halted, glancing +towards the house a half mile away, and then at the +telephone poles along the wide lane.</p> +<p>“Say, there’s a telephone somewhere down here at +the works, connecting with the hacienda, isn’t there?”</p> +<p>“Sure, in that hallway between the two adobes where +the bunk house ends and offices begin.”</p> +<p>Kit started briskly towards the long bunk house, and +then turned to Pike.</p> +<p>“Do me a favor, Captain. Stay right there till I get +back, and don’t let anyone take that Herrara horse away, +or his load!”</p> +<p>“All right, but load!––why, the spotted rat hasn’t +got a load for a jack rabbit, load!” and Pike sniffed disdain +at the little knobs of baggage dangling from the +rawhide strings. He didn’t think the subdued animal +needed watching––still, if Kit said so–––</p> +<p>At the same time Kit was calling the house, and hearing +in reply a soft whistle of the meadow lark, and then +a girl’s laugh.</p> +<p>“Your music is good to listen to, Lark-child,” he +called back, “and your ears are perfectly good at telling +who’s who, but this is a strictly business day, and it is +Mr. Singleton I need to speak with.”</p> +<p>“Still holding your job, or asking for your time?” +came the mocking voice.</p> +<p>“You bet I’m holding my job, also I am on it, and +want the boss.”</p> +<p>“Well, sometimes you know the boys call me the +boss. What can we do for you, Mr. Kit Rhodes?”</p> +<p>“I’ll use all three of my Spanish cuss words in a +minute, if you don’t be reasonable,” he thundered.</p> +<p>“Is that a bribe?” came sweetly over the wire, and +when he muttered something impatiently, she laughed and +told him it was not fair to use another language when he +had promised Spanish.</p> +<p>“Listen to me, young lady, if I can’t get Singleton on +the wire I’ll get on a horse and go up there!”</p> +<p>“And you listen to me, young man, it wouldn’t do you +a bit of good, for just now he is nearly having a fit, and +writing telegrams about something more important than +the horse corrals.”</p> +<p>“There is nothing more important this day and date,” +insisted Kit.</p> +<p>“Well, if you were as strictly a white dove advocate +as Papa Singleton is, and as neutral, and then saw a full +page Sunday supplement of your pet picture fraulein, +working for your pet charity and sifting poison into hospital +bandages and powdered glass in jellies for the soldiers +of the Allies, I reckon you would change your +mind.”</p> +<p>“Powdered glass!––in <i>feed</i>!” repeated Kit, stunned at +the words and the sudden thought they suggested. “Great +God, girl, you don’t have to go to the eastern papers for +<i>that</i>! You’ve got the same trick right here in Granados +this minute! Why––damn you!”</p> +<p>The receiver fell from his hand as a crushing blow was +dealt him from the door at his back. He heard a girl’s +scream in the distance as he grappled with Conrad and +saved himself a second blow from the automobile wrench +in the manager’s hands. It fell to the tiles between them, +and Rhodes kicked it to one side as he struck and struck +again the white, furious face of Conrad.</p> +<p>“The wrench! Tomas, the wrench! Give it to him! +The Americano would murder me!” shouted Conrad.</p> +<p>Tomas had other things to think of. He had heard +as much as Conrad of the telephone discourse, and was +aware of his pinto standing placidly not fifty feet away, +with all the damning evidence in the case tied to the back +of the saddle!</p> +<p>Juanito, however, ran like a cat at his master’s call +and caught up the wrench, but halted when Pike closed +on his shoulder and pressed a cold little circle of blue +steel against his ribs.</p> +<p>“Not this time, <i>muchacho</i>!” he shrilled, “drop it! +This is a man’s game, and you’re out.”</p> +<p>The men came running, and others attempted to interfere, +but the little old man waved the gun at them and +ordered them to keep their distance.</p> +<p>“No crowding the mourners!” he admonished them +gleefully. “I’ve a hunch your man started it, and my +man will finish it. I don’t know what it’s about, Kit, but +give him hell on suspicion! Go to it, boy,––do it again! +Who-ee!––that was a sock-dolager! Keep him off you, +Kit, he’s a gouger, and has the weight. Give it to him +standing, and give it to him good! That’s it! Ki-yi! +Hell’s bells and them a-chiming!”</p> +<p>For the finale of that whirl of the two striking, staggering, +cursing men, was unexpectedly dramatic. They +had surged out into the open, but Conrad, little by little +and step by step, or rather stagger by stagger, had given +way before the mallet-like precision of the younger man’s +fists until Kit’s final blow seemed actually to lift him off +his feet and land him––standing––against the adobe +wall. An instant he quivered there, and then fell forward, +glassy eyed and limp.</p> +<p>Singleton’s car came whirling down the lane. Billie +leaped from it before it stopped, and ran in horror to +the prone figure. One of the older Mexicans tried to +ward her off from the sight.</p> +<p>“No good, señorita, it is the death of him,” he said +gently. “One stroke like that on the heart and it is––<i>adios</i>!”</p> +<p>“What in the name of God––” began Singleton, and +Kit wiped the blood from his eyes and faced him, staggering +and breathless.</p> +<p>“Get him water! Get busy!” he ordered. “I don’t +think he’s done for, not unless he has some mighty weak +spot he should have had labelled before he waded into +this.”</p> +<p>The blood was still trickling from the cut in his head +made by the wrench, and he presented an unholy appearance +as they stared at him.</p> +<p>“I’ll explain, Singleton, for I reckon you are white. +I’ll––after while–––”</p> +<p>“You’ll explain nothing to me!” retorted Singleton +“If the man dies you’ll explain to a jury and a judge; +otherwise you’d better take yourself out of this country.”</p> +<p>Kit blinked at those who were lifting Conrad and +listening to his heart, which evidently had not stopped +permanently.</p> +<p>“But give me a chance, man!” persisted Rhodes. “I +need some mending done on this head of mine,––then +I’ll clear it up. Why, the evidence is right here––powdered +glass for the stock at the far end of the trail––Herrara +knows––Conrad’s game––and–––”</p> +<p>He did not know why words were difficult and the +faces moved in circles about him. The blood soaking his +shirt and blouse, and dripping off his sleeve was cause +enough, but he did not even know that.</p> +<p>“Take him away, Captain Pike,” said Singleton coldly. +“He is not wanted any longer on either of the ranches. +It’s the last man I hire, Conrad can do it in future.”</p> +<p>“Conrad, eh?” grunted Kit weakly, “you’re a nice +easy mark for the frankfurter game,––you and your +pacifist bunch of near-traitors! Why man–––”</p> +<p>But Singleton waved him away, and followed the +men who were carrying Conrad to the bunk house.</p> +<p>“All right, <i>all</i> right! But take care you don’t meet +with a nastier accident than that before you are done with +this game!” he said shaking his fist warningly after Singleton, +and then he staggered to his horse where Pike was +waiting for him.</p> +<p>He got in the saddle, and reeled there a moment, conscious +of hostile, watchful eyes,––and one girl’s face all +alone in the blur.</p> +<p>“Say,” he said, “I heard you scream. You thought +it was you I swore at. You’re wrong there. But you +are some little prophetess,––<i>you</i> are! The job’s gone, +and Herrara’s got away with the evidence, and the jig’s +up! But it wasn’t you I cussed at––not––at––all! +Come on, Pike. This new ventilator in my head is playing +hell its own way. Come on––let’s go by-bye!”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='CHAPTER_IV_IN_THE_ADOBE_OF_PEDRO_VIJIL' id='CHAPTER_IV_IN_THE_ADOBE_OF_PEDRO_VIJIL'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> +<h3>IN THE ADOBE OF PEDRO VIJIL</h3> +</div> +<p>“There ain’t no such animal,” decided Kit Rhodes +seated on the edge of the bed in Pedro Vigil’s +adobe. His head was bandaged, his face a trifle pale and +the odor of medicaments in the shadowy room of the +one deep-barred window. “No, Captain, no man, free, +white and twenty-one <i>could</i> be such a fool. Can’t Singleton +see that if Conrad’s story was true he’d have the +constable after me for assault with intent to kill? He’s +that sort!”</p> +<p>“Well, Singleton thinks Conrad would be justified in +having you prosecuted, and jailed, and fined, and a few +other things, but for the reputation of Granados they let +you down easy. You know it’s <i>the</i> dovery for the Pass-up-the-fists +of this section, and what the Arizona papers +would do would be comic if they ever got hold of the +fact that Singleton picked a new bird for the dove cage, +and the dratted thing changed before their eyes to a +fractious game rooster swinging a right like the hind leg +of a mule! No, Bub, we’re orderly, peaceable folks +around here, so for the sake of our reputation Singleton +has prevailed on his manager to be merciful to you, +and Conrad has in true pacifist spirit let himself be prevailed +upon.”</p> +<p>“Which means,” grinned Kit, “that I’m to be put off +my guard, and done for nicely and quietly some moonless +night when I take the trail! And he reports me either +drunk or temporarily insane, does he? Well, when the +next time comes I’ll change that gentleman’s mind.”</p> +<p>“Shucks, Bub! Thank a fool’s luck that your skull +was only scratched, and don’t go planning future wars. +I tell you we are peace doves around here, and you are +a stray broncho kicking up an undesirable dust in our +front yard. Here is your coin. Singleton turned it over +to me and I receipted for it, and we have enough between +us to hit the Sonora trail, and there’s not a bit of use +in your hanging around here. You have no evidence. +You are a stranger who ambled in, heard a sensational +newspaper report of anti-ally criminal intent, and on the +spot accused the highly respectable Granados rancho of +indulging in that same variety of hellishness! Now there +is your case in a nutshell, Bub, and you wouldn’t get the +authorities to believe you in a thousand years!”</p> +<p>“What about you?”</p> +<p>“Oh, I have just little enough sense to believe your +hunch is right, but that won’t get you anywhere. They +think I’m loco too! I’ve an idea there is a lot more and +rottener activities down south of the line with which our +Teutonic peace arbitrator is mixed up. But he’s been on +this job five years, all the trails are his, and an outsider +can’t get a look-in! Now Miguel Herrara has been doing +gun-running across the border for someone, and +Miguel was not only arrested by the customs officer, but +Miguel was killed two nights ago––shot with his own +gun so that it looks like suicide. Suicide nothing! His +chief, whoever he is, was afraid Miguel would blunder +or weaken under government persuasion, so Miguel was +let out of the game. That case is closed, and no evidence +against anyone. I reckon everyone knows that the guns +and ammunition sneaked over is headed for Rancho Soledad. +The owner of Soledad, José Perez, is the valued +friend of our nice little Conrad, and it happens that Conrad +left Granados this morning for that direction, ostensibly +to negotiate with the political powers of Sonora +concerning a military guard for La Partida in case revolutionary +stragglers should ride north for fresh saddle-horses. +All appeals to the neutral chair warmers at +Washington wins us no protection from that source;––they +only have guns and men enough to guard some +cherished spots in Texas.”</p> +<p>“Well, if the Teuton is able for a trail I reckon he +got nothing worse in the scrap than I, even if he did look +like a job for the undertaker. That fellow travels on the +strength of his belly and not the strength of his heart.”</p> +<p>“So you say,” observed Pike, grinning, “but then again +there are others of us who travel on nerve and gall and +never get any further! Just put this in your pipe, Bub, +and don’t forget it: Conrad is <i>organised</i> for whatever +deviltry he is up to! There is no ‘happen so’ in his +schemes. He is a cog in some political wheel, and it’s a +fifty-fifty gamble as to whether the wheel is German or +Mexican, but it is no little thing, and is not to be despised.”</p> +<p>“But I can’t see how Singleton, if Singleton is square +even–––”</p> +<p>“Singleton is a narrow gauge disciple of Universal +Peace by decree––which, translated, means plain damn +fool. Lord, boy, if a pack of prairie wolves had a man +surrounded, would he fold his hands with the hope that +his peaceful attitude would appeal to their better instincts +or would he reach for a gun and give them protective +pills? The man of sense never goes without his gun in +wolf land, but Singleton––well, in peace times he could +have lived a long lifetime, and no one ever guessed what +a weak sister he was, but he’s sure out of place on the +border.”</p> +<p>“I’m tired wearing this halo,” observed Rhodes, referring +to the white handkerchief around his head. “Also +some of the dope you gave me seems to be evaporating +from my system, and I feel like hitting the Piman breeze. +Can we strike trail tomorrow?”</p> +<p>“We cannot. Doña Luz has been dosing out the +dope for you––Mexican women are natural doctors with +their own sort of herbs––and she says three days before +you go in the sun. I’ve a notion she sort of let the Mexicans +think that you were likely to cash in, and you bled +so like a stuck pig that it was easy enough to believe the +worst.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps that’s why Conrad felt safe in leaving me +outside of jail. With Doña Luz as doctor, and a non-professional +like you as assistant, I reckon he thought +my chance of surviving that monkey wrench assault was +slim, mighty slim!”</p> +<p>“Y––yes,” agreed Pike, “under ordinary conditions +he might have been justified in such surmise, but that +would be figuring on the normal thickness of the normal +civilized skull, but yours––why, Bub, all I’m puzzling +over now is how it happens that the monkey wrench was +only twisted a mite, not broke at all!”</p> +<p>“You scandalous old varmint!” grinned Kit. “Go on +with your weak-minded amusements, taking advantage +of a poor lone cripple,––refused by the army, and a victim +of the latest German atrocity! I suppose––I suppose,”––he +continued darkly, “everyone on and around Granados +agrees that I was the villain in the assault?”</p> +<p>“I couldn’t say as to that,” returned Pike judicially. +“Doña Luz would dose you, and plaster you, just the +same if you had killed a half dozen instead of knocking +the wind out of one. She’s pretty fine and all woman, +but naturally since they regard you as my <i>companero</i> they +are shy about expressing themselves when I’m around––all +except Singleton––and you heard him.”</p> +<p>“Good and plenty,” agreed Kit. “Say, I’m going to +catch up on sleep while I’ve a chance, and you rustle +along and get any tag ends of things needed for the trail. +I’m going to strike for Mesa Blanca, as that will take us +up into the country of that Alisal mine. If we go broke +there is Mesa Blanca ranch work to fall back on for a +grub stake, but from what I hear we can dry wash enough +to buy corn and flour, and the hills are full of burro meat. +We’ll browse around until we either strike it rich, or get +fed up with trying. Anyway, <i>Companero</i>, we will be in +a quiet, peaceful pastoral land, close to nature, and out +of reach of Teuton guile and monkey wrenches. <i>Buenas +noches</i>, señor. I’m asleep!”</p> +<p>Pike closed the door, and went from the semi-dark of +the adobe out into the brilliant sunshine where Billie, +with a basket, was waiting under the <i>ramada</i> with +Merced, and Merced looked gloomy lest Pedro should be +blamed by Señor Singleton for practically turning his +family out of the adobe that it might be given over to +the loco Americano.</p> +<p>“Tomorrow, can he go?” she asked hopefully. “Me, +I have a fear. Not before is the adobe here watched by +hidden men at night, and that is very bad! Because that +he is friend to you I say to everybody that I think the +Americano is dying in our house, but today he talks, +also he is laughing. No more sick?”</p> +<p>“No more sick, sure not, but it will be one more day. +A man does not bleed like a gored bull and ride the next +day under a sky hot enough to fry eggs. The tea of +Doña Luz drove off the fever, and he only sleeps and +talks, and sleeps again, but sick? Not a bit!”</p> +<p>“Nor––nor sorry, I reckon?” ventured Billie.</p> +<p>“Why, no child, not that I could notice. That scalawag +doesn’t seem to have much conscience concerning his +behavior.”</p> +<p>“Or his language!” she added.</p> +<p>“Sure, that was some invocation he offered up! But +just between pals, Billie, you ought to have been in hearing.”</p> +<p>“I––I don’t suppose he even remembers that I was,” +she remarked, and then after a silence, “or––or even +mentioned––us?”</p> +<p>“Why, no, Billie. You made the right guess when you +sized him up and thought he couldn’t hold the job. He +certainly doesn’t belong, Billie, for this ranch is the homing +nest of the peace doves, and he’s just an ungainly +young game rooster starting out with a dare against the +world, and only himself for a backer. Honest,––if that +misguided youth had been landed in jail, I don’t reckon +there’s anyone in Arizona with little enough sense to bail +him out.”</p> +<p>“Likely not,” said Billie. “Well, there’s the basket +from Tia Luz, and I might as well go home.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='CHAPTER_V_AN_ADIOSAND_AFTER' id='CHAPTER_V_AN_ADIOSAND_AFTER'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> +<h3>AN “ADIOS”––AND AFTER</h3> +</div> +<p>Two days later in the blue clear air of the Arizona +morning a sage hen slipped with her young through +the coarse grass by the irrigation ditch, and a flock of +quail raised and fluttered before the quick rhythmic beat +of a loping horse along the trail in the mesquite thicket.</p> +<p>The slender gallant figure of his rider leaned forward +looking, listening at every turn, and at the forks of the +trail where a clump of squat mesquite and giant sahuarro +made a screen, she checked the horse, and held her breath.</p> +<p>“Good Pat, good horse!” she whispered. “They’ve +got nothing that can run away from us. We’ll show +them!”</p> +<p>Then a man’s quavering old voice came to her through +the winding trail of the arroya. It was lifted tunefully +insistent in an old-time song of the mining camps:</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'><i>Oh, Mexico! we’re coming, Mexico!<br /> +Our six mule team,<br /> +Will soon be seen,<br /> +On the trail to Mexico!</i></p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>“We made it, Pat!” confided the girl grimly. “We +made it. Quiet now––quiet!”</p> +<p>She peered out through the green mesquite as Captain +Pike emerged from the west arroya on a gray burro, +herding two other pack animals ahead of him into the +south trail.</p> +<p>He rode jauntily, his old sombrero at a rakish angle, +his eyes bright with enthusiasm supplied by that which +he designated as a morning “bracer,” and his long gray +locks bobbed in the breeze as he swayed in the saddle and +droned his cheerful epic of the trail:</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'><i>A––and when we’ve been there long enough,<br /> +And back we wish to go,<br /> +We’ll fill our pockets with the shining dust<br /> +And then leave Mexico!<br /> +Oh––Mexico!<br /> +Good-bye my Mexico!<br /> +Our six mule team will then be seen<br /> +On the trail from Mexico.</i></p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>“Hi there! you Balaam––get into the road and keep +a-going, you ornery little rat-tailed son-of-a-gun! Pick +up your feet and travel, or I’ll yank out your back bone +and make a quirt out of it! For–––”</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'><i>My name was Captain Kidd as I sailed<br /> +<span class='indent6'> </span>As I sailed,<br /> +My name was Captain Kidd,<br /> +<span class='indent6'> </span>As I sailed!<br /> +My name was Captain Kidd<br /> +And most wickedly I di-i-id<br /> +All holy laws forbid<br /> +<span class='indent6'> </span>As I sailed!</i></p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>The confessor of superlative wickedness droned his +avowal in diminishing volume as the burros pattered +along the white dust of the valley road, then the curve +to the west hid them, and all was silence but for the rustle +of the wind in the mesquite and the far bay of Singleton’s +hounds circling a coyote.</p> +<p>But Pat pricked up his ears, and lifted his head as if +feeling rather than hearing the growing thud of coming +hoofs. The girl waited until they were within fifty feet, +when she pursed up her lips and whistled the call of the +meadow lark. It sounded like a fairy bugle call across +the morning, and the roan was halted quickly at the +forks of the road.</p> +<p>“Howdy, señorita?” he called softly. “I can’t see +you, but your song beats the birds. Got a flag of truce? +Willing to parley with the enemy?”</p> +<p>Then she emerged, eyeing him sulkily.</p> +<p>“You were going without seeing me!” she stated with +directness, and without notice of the quizzical smile of +comradeship.</p> +<p>“Certainly was,” he agreed. “When I got through +the scrap with your disciple of <i>kultur</i>, my mug didn’t +strike me as the right decoration for a maiden’s bower. +I rode out of the scrap with my scratches, taking joy +and comfort in the fact that he had to be carried.”</p> +<p>“There was no reason for your being so––so brutal!” +she decided austerely.</p> +<p>“Lord love you, child, I didn’t need a reason––I only +wanted an excuse. Give me credit! I got away for +fear I’d go loco and smash Singleton for interfering.”</p> +<p>“Papa Phil only did his duty, standing for peace.”</p> +<p>“Huh, let the Neutral League do it! The trouble with +Singleton is he hasn’t brains enough to lubricate a balance +wheel,––he can’t savvy a situation unless he has it printed +in a large-type tract. Conrad was scared for fear I’d +stumbled on a crooked trail of his and would tell the +boss, so he beat me to it with the lurid report that I +made an assault on him! This looks like it––not!” +and he showed the slashes in his sombrero to make room +for the blue banda around his head. “Suppose you tell +that Hun of yours to carry a gun like a real hombre instead +of the tools of a second-story man. The neighbors +could hear a gun, and run to my rescue.”</p> +<p>The girl regarded his flippancy with disapproval.</p> +<p>“He isn’t my Hun,” she retorted. “I could worry +along without him on our map,––but after all, I don’t +know a single definite thing against him. Anyway, it’s +decided I’ve got to go away somewhere to school and be +out of the ranch squabbles. Papa Phil thinks I get in +bad company out here.”</p> +<p>“Meaning me?”</p> +<p>“Well, he <i>said</i> Captain Pike was demoralizing to the +youthful mind. He didn’t mention you. And Cap certainly +did go the limit yesterday!”</p> +<p>“How so?”</p> +<p>“Well, he went to the Junction for his outfit stuff–––”</p> +<p>“Yes, and never showed up at the adobe until the +morning star was in the sky!”</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_2' id='linki_2'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-076.jpg' alt='' title='' width='373' height='573' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +“You poor kid, you have a hard time with the disreputables you pick up.”<br /> +</p> +</div> +<p>“I know,” she confessed. “I went with him. We +stayed to see a Hart picture at the theater, and had the +time of our young lives. At supper I announced that I +was going to adopt Cap as a grandfather,––and then of +course he had to go and queer me by filling up on some +rank whiskey he had smuggled in with the other food! +My stars!––he was put to bed singing that he’d ‘Hang his +harp on a willow tree, and be off to the wars again’––You +needn’t laugh!”</p> +<p>But he did laugh, his blue eyes twinkling at her recital.</p> +<p>“You poor kid! You have a hard time with the disreputables +you pick up. Sure they didn’t warn you +against speaking to this reprobate?”</p> +<p>“Sure nothing!” was the boyish reply. “I was to be +docked a month’s spending money if I dared go near +Pedro Vijil’s adobe again while you were there, which +was very foolish of Papa Phil!” she added judicially. +“I reckon he forgot they tried that before.”</p> +<p>“And what happened?”</p> +<p>“I went down and borrowed double the amount from +old Estevan, the trader at the Junction, and gave him an +order against the ranch. Then Cap and I sneaked out +a couple of three-year-olds and raced them down in the +cottonwood flats against some colts brought down by an +old Sierra Blanca Apache. We backed our nags with +every peso, and that old brown murderer won! But Cap +and I had a wonderful day while our coin lasted, and––and +you were going away without saying good-bye!”</p> +<p>Kit Rhodes, who had blankly stated that he owned his +horse and saddle and little beyond, looked at the spoiled +plucky heiress of Granados ranches, and the laughter +went out of his eyes.</p> +<p>She was beyond reason loveable even in her boyish +disdain of restriction, and some day she would come +back from the schools a very finished product, and thank +the powers that be for having sent her out of knowledge +of happy-go-lucky chums of the ranges.</p> +<p>Granados ranches had been originally an old Spanish +grant reaching from a branch of the intermittent Rio +Altar north into what is now Arizona, and originally +was about double the size of Rhode Island. It was +roughly divided into the home or hacienda ranch in +Arizona, and La Partida, the cattle range portion, reaching +far south into Sonora. Even the remnant of the +grant, if intelligently managed, would earn an income +satisfactory for a most extravagant princess royal such +as its present chatelaine seemed to Rhodes.</p> +<p>But he had noted dubiously that the management was +neither intelligent nor, he feared, square. The little +rancherias scattered over it in the fertile valleys, were +worked on the scratch gravel, ineffective Mexic method +by the Juans and Pedros whose family could always +count on mesquite beans, and <i>camotes</i> if the fields failed. +There was seed to buy each year instead of raising it. +There was money invested in farming machinery, and a +bolt taken at will from a thresher to mend a plow or +a buggy as temporarily required. The flocks of sheep on +the Arizona hills were low grade. The cattle and horse +outfits were south in La Partida, and the leakage was +beyond reason, even in a danger zone of the border land.</p> +<p>All this Kit had milled around and around many times +in the brief while he had ranged La Partida. A new deal +was needed and needed badly, else Wilfreda Bernard +would have debts instead of revenue if Singleton let +things drift much longer. Her impish jest that she was +a damsel in distress in need of a valiant knight was +nearer to truth than she suspected. He had an idiotic +hungry desire to be that knight, but his equipment of one +horse, one saddle, and one sore head appeared inadequate +for the office.</p> +<p>Thus Kit Rhodes sat his horse and looked at her, and +saw things other than the red lips of the girl, and the +chiding gray eyes, and the frank regret at his going.</p> +<p>It was more profitable not to see that regret, or let it +thrill a man in that sweet warm way, especially not if the +man chanced to be a drifting ranger. She was only a +gallant little girl with a genius for friendships, and her +loyalty to Pike extended to Pike’s chum––that was what +Rhodes told himself!</p> +<p>“Yes,” he agreed, “I was going without any tooting +of horns. No use in Cap Pike and me hanging around, +and getting you in bad with your outfit.”</p> +<p>“As if I care!” she retorted.</p> +<p>“You might some day,” he said quietly. “School may +make a lot of difference; that, and changed surroundings +for a year or two. But some day you will be your own +manager, and if I’m still on the footstool and can be of +service––just whistle, señorita.”</p> +<p>“Sure!” she agreed cheerfully. “I’ll whistle the lark +call, and you’ll know I need you, so that’s settled, and +we’ll always be––be friends, Trail-hunter.”</p> +<p>“We’ll always be friends, Lark-child.”</p> +<p>“I wanted Cap Pike to let me in on this prospecting +trip, wanted to put in money,” she said rather hesitant, +“and he turned me down cold, except for a measly ten +dollars, ‘smoke money’ he called it. I reckon he only +took that to get rid of me, which I don’t call friendly, +do you? And if things should go crooked with him, +and he––well––sort of needs help to get out, you’ll let +me know, won’t you?”</p> +<p>“Yes, if it seems best,” he agreed, “but you won’t +be here; you’ll be shipped to a school, <i>pronto</i>!”</p> +<p>“I won’t be so far off the map that a letter can’t reach +me. Cap Pike won’t ever write, but I thought maybe +you–––”</p> +<p>“Sure,” agreed Rhodes easily. “We’ll send out a +long yell for help whenever we get stuck.”</p> +<p>She eyed him darkly and without faith.</p> +<p>“Wish I knew how to make that certain,” she confessed. +“You’re only dodging me with any kind of a +promise to keep me quiet, just as Cap did. I know! I’m +jealous, too, because you’re taking a trail I’ve always +wanted to take with Cap, and they won’t let me because +I’m a girl.”</p> +<p>“Cheer up! When you are boss of the range you can +outfit any little <i>pasear</i> you want to take, but you and I +won’t be in the same class then, Lark-child.”</p> +<p>“Are you really going it blind, trailing with Cap into +the Painted Hills after that fascinating gold legend?” +she demanded. “Or have you some inside trail blazed +for yourself? Daddy Pike is the best ever, but he always +goes broke, and if he isn’t broke, he has a jug at his +saddle horn, so–––”</p> +<p>“Oh it’s only a little jug this time, and he’s had a fare-you-well +drink out of it with everyone in sight, so there’s +only one hilarious evening left in the jug now. Just +enough for a gladsome memory of civilization.”</p> +<p>“Are you in deep on this prospect plan?” she persisted.</p> +<p>“Well, not that you could notice. That is, I’ve got a +three months’ job offered me down at Whitely’s; that will +serve the captain as headquarters to range from until +we add to our stake. Whitely is rounding up stock for +the Allies down Mesa Blanca way, and Pike will feel at +home there. Don’t you worry, I’ll keep an eye on Pike. +He is hilariously happy to get into that region with a +partner.”</p> +<p>“I don’t like it,” she grumbled at him with sulky gray +eyes. “Pedro Vijil just came back from the south, and +brought his sister’s family from San Rafael. They’re +refugees from the Federals because their men joined +Ramon Rotil, the rebel leader, and Merced is crying herself +crazy over the tales of war they tell. One of their +girls was stolen, and the mother and Tia Luz are both +crying over that. So Papa Phil says he’s going to send +me away where I won’t hear such horrors. I wish I was +a man, and I’d join the army and get a chance to go over +and fight.”</p> +<p>“Huh!” grunted Rhodes skeptically, “some more of +us had hopes! Our army officers are both praying and +cursing to get a chance to do the same thing, but they +are not getting it! So you and I, little girl, will wait till +some one pitches a bomb into that dovery on the Potomac. +Then we’ll join the volunteers and swarm over after our +people.”</p> +<p>“Oh, yes, <i>you</i> can! Men can do anything they like. I +told you I was jealous.”</p> +<p>“Never mind, Lark-child,” he returned soothingly. +“If I get over with a gun, you can come along and toot +a horn. There now, that’s a bargain, and you can practice +tooting the lark’s call until the time comes.”</p> +<p>“I reckon I’ll have plenty of time to toot myself black +in the face before you show up again at Granados,” she +prophesied ruefully, and he laughed.</p> +<p>“Whistle an’ I’ll come to you, Lassie,” he said with +sudden recklessness, “and that’s for <i>adios</i>, Billie.”</p> +<p>He held out his hand.</p> +<p>“That’s enough, Rhodes,” said a voice back of them, +and Singleton walked forward. “When you got your +time, you were supposed to leave Granados. Is this what +you’ve been hanging around for during the past week?”</p> +<p>Rhodes flamed red to his hair as he stared down at +the elder man.</p> +<p>“I reckon I’ll not answer that now, Mr. Singleton,” +he said quietly. “You may live to see you made a mistake. +I hope you do, but you’re traveling with a rotten +bunch, and they are likely to use a knife or a rope on +you any time you’ve played the goat long enough for +them to get their innings. I’m going without any grudge, +but if I was an insurance agent, trying to save money for +my company, I’d sure pass you by as an unsafe bet! +Keep on this side of the line, Singleton, while the revolution +is whirling, and whatever you forget, don’t forget +I said it! <i>Adios</i>, señorita, and––good luck!”</p> +<p>“Good luck, Kit,” she half whispered, “and <i>adios</i>!”</p> +<p>She watched him as he rode away, watched him as he +halted at the turn of the trail and waved his hand, and +Singleton was quietly observing her the while. She +frowned as she turned and caught him at it.</p> +<p>“You thought he waited here, or planned to––to +meet me,” she flared. “He was too square to tell you +the truth, but it was I rode out here to say good-bye, rode +out and held him up! But I did not reckon anyone would +try to insult him for it!”</p> +<p>Her stepfather regarded her grimly. She was angry, +and very near to tears.</p> +<p>“Time you had your breakfast,” he observed, “and +all signs indicate I should have sent you East last year, +and kept you out of the promiscuous mixups along the +border. It’s the dumping ground for all sorts of stray +adventurers, and no place for a girl to ride alone.”</p> +<p>“He seemed to think I am as able to look after myself +as you,” she retorted. “You aren’t fair to him because +you take the word of Conrad, but Conrad lies, and I’m +glad he got thrashed good and plenty! Now I’ve got +that off my mind, I’ll go eat a cheerful breakfast.”</p> +<p>Singleton walked silent beside her back to where his +horse was grazing by the roadside.</p> +<p>“Huh!” grunted the girl with frank scorn. “So you +got out of the saddle to spy? Haven’t you some black-and-tan +around the ranch to do your dirty work?”</p> +<p>“It’s just as well to be civil till you know what you +are talking about,” he reminded her with a sort of +trained patience. “I came out without my breakfast just +to keep the ranchmen from thinking what Tia Luz thinks. +She told me I’d find that fellow waiting for you. I didn’t +believe it, but I see she is not so far wrong.”</p> +<p>He spoke without heat or feeling, and his tone was +that of quiet discussion with a man or boy, not at all +that of a guardian to a girl. His charge was evidently +akin to the horse ranch of Granados as described by the +old ranger: Singleton had acquired them, but never understood +them.</p> +<p>“Look here,” said his protégée with boyish roughness, +“that Dutchman sees everything crooked, especially if +there’s an American in range, and he prejudices you. +Why don’t you wake up long enough to notice that he’s +framing some excuse to run off every decent chap who +comes on the place? I knew Rhodes was too white to be +let stay. I saw that as soon as he landed, and I told +him so! What I can’t understand is that you won’t +see it.”</p> +<p>“A manager has to have a free hand, Billie, or else be +let go,” explained Singleton. “Conrad knows horses, he +knows the market, and is at home with the Mexicans. +Also he costs less than we used to pay, and that is an item +in a bad year.”</p> +<p>“I’ll bet we lose enough cattle to his friends to make +up the difference,” she persisted. “Rhodes was right +when he called them a rotten bunch.”</p> +<p>“Let us hope that when you return from school you +will have lost the major portion of your unsavory vocabulary,” +he suggested. “That will be worth a herd of +cattle.”</p> +<p>“It would be worth another herd to see you wake up +and show you had one good fight in you!” she retorted. +“Conrad has all of the ranch outfit locoed but me; that’s +why he passes on this school notion to you. He wants +me out of sight.”</p> +<p>“I should have been more decided, and insisted that +you go last year. Heaven knows you need it badly +enough,” sighed Singleton, ignoring her disparaging comment +on his own shortcomings. And then as they rode +under the swaying fronds of the palm drive leading to +the ranch house he added, “Those words of your bronco +busting friend concerning the life insurance risk sounded +like a threat. I wonder what he meant by it?”</p> +<p>The telephone bell on the Granados Junction line was +ringing when they entered the patio. Singleton glanced +at the clock.</p> +<p>“A night letter probably,” he remarked. “Go get your +coffee, child, it’s a late hour for breakfast.”</p> +<p>Billie obeyed, sulkily seating herself opposite Tia Luz––who +was bolt upright behind the coffee urn, with a +mien expressing dignified disapproval. She inhaled a +deep breath for forceful speech, but Billie was ahead of +her.</p> +<p>“So it was you! You were the spy, and sent him after +me!”</p> +<p>“<i>Madre de Dios!</i> and why not?” demanded the competent +Luz. “You stealing your own horse at the dawn to +go with the old Captain Pike. I ask of you what kind of +a girl is that? Also Mercedes was here last night tearing +her hair because of the girls, her sister’s daughters, stolen +away over there in Sonora. Well! is that not enough? +That Señor Kit is also too handsome. I was a fool to +send the medicine with you to Pedro’s house. He looked +a fine caballero but even a fine caballero will take a girl +when she follows after. <i>I</i> know! And once in Sonora +all trails of a girl are lost. I know that too!”</p> +<p>“You are all crazy, and I never saw him at Pedro’s +house, never!” said the girl reaching for her coffee, and +then suddenly she began to laugh. “Did you think, did +you make Papa Philip think, that I was eloping like +this?” and she glanced down at her denim riding dress.</p> +<p>“And why not? Did I myself not steal out in a shift +and petticoat the first time I tried to run away with my +Andreas? And beyond that not a thing under God had +I on but my coral beads, and the red satin slippers of my +sister Dorotea! She pulled my hair wickedly for those +slippers, and I got a <i>reata</i> on my back from my grandmother +for that running away. I was thirteen years old +then! But when I was nearly sixteen we did get away, +Andreas and I, and after that it was as well for the grandmother +to pay a priest for us, and let us alone. Ai-ji! +señorita, I am not forgetting what I know! And while I +am here in Granados there must be nothing less than a +grand marriage, and may the saints send the right man, +for a wrong one makes hell in any house!”</p> +<p>Billie forgot her sulkiness in her joy at the elopements +of Tia Luz. No wonder she distrusted an American girl +who was allowed to ride alone!</p> +<p>But in the midst of her laughter she was reminded that +Singleton was still detained at the telephone in the adjoining +room, and that his rather high-pitched tones +betrayed irritation.</p> +<p>“Well, why can’t you give the telegram to me? Addressed +to Conrad? Of course if it’s a personal message +I don’t want it, but you say it is a ranch matter––and +important. Horses? What about them?”</p> +<p>Billie, listening, sped from the table to his side, and +putting her hand over the telephone, whispered:</p> +<p>“If Brehman, the secretary, was here, they’d give it to +him. They always do.”</p> +<p>Singleton nodded to her, and grew decided.</p> +<p>“See here, Webster, one of our men was hurt, and +Brehman took his place and went East with that horse +shipment. Mr. Conrad had to go down in Sonora on +business, and I am the only one here to take his place. +Just give me the message as you would give it to the +secretary. But you’d better type a copy and send by mail +that I can put it on file. All right? Yes, go ahead.”</p> +<p>Billie had quickly secured paper and pencil, but instead +of taking them, Singleton motioned for her to write the +message.</p> +<blockquote> +<p>Adolf Conrad, Granados Ranch, Granados Junction, Arizona. +Regret to report September shipment horses developed +ailment aboard vessel, fifty per cent dead, balance +probably of no military use,</p> +<p class='ralign'><span class='smcap'>Ogden, Burns & Co.</span></p> +</blockquote> +<p>Word by word Singleton took the message and word +by word Billie wrote it down, while they stared at each +other.</p> +<p>“Developed ailment aboard vessel!” repeated Singleton. +“Then there was something wrong on shipboard, for +there certainly is not here. We have no sick horses on +the ranch, never do have!”</p> +<p>“But these people?” and Billie pointed to the signature.</p> +<p>“Oh, they are the men who buy stock for the Allies, +agents for the French. They paid for the horses on delivery. +They are safe, substantial people. I can’t understand–––”</p> +<p>But Billie caught his arm with a gasp of horror and +enlightenment.</p> +<p>“Papa Phil! Think––<i>think</i> what Kit Rhodes said! +<i>‘Ground glass in the feed at the other end of the road! +Conrad’s game––Herrara knows!’</i> Papa Phil,––Miguel +Herrara was killed––killed! And Conrad tried to kill +Kit! Oh he did, he did! None of the Mexicans thought +he would get well, but Tia Luz cured him. And Cap +Pike never went out of sight of that adobe until Conrad +had left the ranch, and I know Kit was right. I know +it, I know it! Oh, my horses, my beautiful horses!”</p> +<p>“There, there! Why, child you’re hysterical over this, +which is––is too preposterous for belief!”</p> +<p>“Nothing is too preposterous for belief. You know +that. Everybody knows it in these days! Is Belgium too +preposterous? Is that record of poison and powdered +glass in hospital supplies too preposterous? In <i>hospital</i> +supplies! If they do that to wounded men, why not to +cavalry horses? Why Papa Phil–––”</p> +<p>“Hush––hush––hush!” he said pacing the floor, +clasping his head in both hands. “It is too terrible! +What can we do? What? Who dare we trust to even +help investigate?”</p> +<p>“Well, you might wire those agents for particulars, +this is rather skimpy,” suggested Billie. “Come and get +some breakfast and think it over.”</p> +<p>“I might wire the office of the Peace Society in New +York to–––”</p> +<p>“Don’t you do it!” protested Billie. “They may have +furnished the poison for all <i>you</i> know! Cap Pike says +they are a lot of traitors, and Cap is wise in lots of +things. You telegraph, and you tell them that if the +sickness is proven to have started in Granados, that we +will pay for every dead horse, tell them we have no sick +horses here, and ask them to answer, <i>pronto!</i>”</p> +<p>“That seems rather reckless, child, to pay for all–––”</p> +<p>“I <i>am</i> reckless! I am crazy mad over those horses, +and over Conrad, and over Kit whom he tried to kill!”</p> +<p>“Tut––tut! The language and behavior of Rhodes +was too wicked for anyone to believe him innocent. He +was a beastly looking object, and I still believe him entirely +in the wrong. This loss of the horses is deplorable, +but you will find that no one at Granados is to blame.”</p> +<p>“Maybe so, but you just send that telegram and see +what we see!”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='CHAPTER_VI_A_DEAD_MAN_UNDER_THE_COTTONWOODS' id='CHAPTER_VI_A_DEAD_MAN_UNDER_THE_COTTONWOODS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> +<h3>A DEAD MAN UNDER THE COTTONWOODS</h3> +</div> +<p>Billie was never out of hearing of the telephone all +day, and at two o’clock the reply came.</p> +<blockquote> +<p><span class='smcap'>Philip Singleton,</span> + Rancho Granados, Arizona.</p> +<p>Kindly wire in detail the source of your information. No +message went to Granados from this office. No publicity +has been given to the dead horse situation. Your inquiry +very important to the Department of Justice.</p> +<p class='ralign'><span class='smcap'>Ogden, Burns & Co. </span></p> +</blockquote> +<p>“Very strange, very!” murmured Singleton. “No +matter how hard I think, or from what angle, I can’t +account for it. Billie, this is too intricate for me. The +best thing I can do is to go over to Nogales and talk to +an attorney.”</p> +<p>“Go ahead and talk,” agreed Billie, “but I’d answer +that telegram first. This is no township matter, Papa +Phil, can’t you see that?”</p> +<p>“Certainly, certainly, but simply because of that fact +I feel I should have local advice. I have a legal friend +in Nogales. If I could get him on the wire–––”</p> +<p>An hour later when Billie returned from a ride, she +realized Singleton had gotten his friend on the wire, for +she heard him talking.</p> +<p>“Yes, this is Granados. Is that you, James? Yes, I +asked them to have you call me. I need to consult with +you concerning a rather serious matter. Yes, so serious +I may say it is mysterious, and appalling. It concerns +a shipment of horses. Conrad is in Sonora, and this +subject can’t wait––no, I can’t get in touch with Conrad. +He is out of communication when over there––No, +I can’t wait his return. I’ve had a wire from Ogden and +Burns, New York––said Ogden and Burns––All right, +get a pencil; I’ll hold the wire.”</p> +<p>There was a moment of silence, and if a telephonic +camera had been installed at Granados, Mr. Singleton +might have caught a very interesting picture at the other +end of the wire.</p> +<p>A middle-aged man in rusty black of semi-clerical cut +held the receiver, and the effect of the names as given over +the wire was, to put it mildly, electrical. His jaw dropped +and he stared across the table at a man who was seated +there. At the repetition of the name, the other arose, and +with the stealthily secretive movement of a coyote near +its prey he circled the table, and drew a chair close to the +telephone. The pencil and paper was in his hand, not in +that of “James.” That other was Conrad.</p> +<p>Then the telephone conversation was resumed after +Mr. Singleton had been requested to speak a little louder––there +seemed some flaw in the connection.</p> +<p>In the end Singleton appeared much comforted to get +the subject off his own shoulders by discussing it with +another. But he had been convinced that the right thing +to do was to motor over to the Junction and take the +telegrams with him for consultation. He would start +about eight in the morning, and would reach the railroad +by noon. Yes, by taking the light car which he drove +himself it would be an easy matter.</p> +<p>Billie heard part of this discourse in an absent-minded +way, for she was not at all interested as to what some +strange lawyer in Nogales might think of the curious +telegrams.</p> +<p>She would have dropped some of that indifference if +she had been able to hear the lurid language of Conrad +after the receiver was hung up. James listened to him in +silence for a bit, and then said:</p> +<p>“It’s your move, brother! There are not supposed to +be any mistakes in the game, and you have permitted our +people to wire you a victory when you were not there to +get the wire, and that was a mistake.”</p> +<p>“But Brehman always–––”</p> +<p>“You sent Brehman East and for once forgot what +might happen with your office empty. No,––it is not +Singleton’s fault; he did the natural thing. It is not the +operator’s fault; why should he not give a message concerning +horses to the proprietor of the horse ranch?”</p> +<p>“But Singleton never before made a move in anything +of management, letters never opened, telegrams filed but +never answers sent until I am there! And this time! +It is that most cursed Rhodes, I know it is that one! +They told me he was high in fever and growing worse, +and luck with me! So you yourself know the necessity +that I go over for the Sonora conference––there was no +other way. It is that Rhodes! Yes, I know it, and they +told me he was as good as dead––God! if again I get +him in these hands!”</p> +<p>He paced the floor nervously, and flung out his clenched +hands in fury, and the quiet man watched him.</p> +<p>“That is personal, and is for the future,” he said, “but +Singleton is not a personal matter. If he lives he will +be influenced to investigation, and that must not be. It +would remove you from Granados, and you are too valuable +at that place. You must hold that point as you would +hold a fort against the enemy. When Mexico joins with +Germany against the damned English and French, this +fool mushroom republic will protest, and that is the time +our friends will sweep over from Mexico and gather in +all these border states––which were once hers––and will +again be hers through the strong mailed hand of Germany! +This is written and will be! When that day +comes, we need such points of vantage as Granados and +La Partida; we must have them! You have endangered +that position, and the mistake won’t be wiped out. The +next move is yours, Conrad.”</p> +<p>The quiet man in the habiliments of shabby gentility +in that bare little room with the American flag over the +door and portraits of two or three notable advocates of +World Peace and the American League of Neutrality on +the wall, had all the outward suggestion of the small +town disciple of Socialism from the orthodox viewpoint. +His manner was carefully restrained, and his low voice +was very even, but at his last words Conrad who had +dropped into a seat, his head in his hands, suddenly looked +up, questioning.</p> +<p>“Singleton can probably do no more harm today,” +went on the quiet voice. “I warned him it would be a +mistake to discuss it until after he had seen me. He +starts at eight in the morning, alone, for the railroad but +probably will not reach there.” He looked at his watch +thoughtfully. “The Tucson train leaves in fifty minutes. +You can get that. Stop off at the station where Brehman’s +sister is waitress. She will have his car ready, that +will avoid the Junction. It will be rough work, Conrad, +but it is your move. It is an order.”</p> +<p>And then before that carefully quiet man who had +the appearance of a modest country person, Adolf Conrad +suddenly came to his feet in military salute.</p> +<p>“Come, we will talk it over,” suggested his superior. +“It will be rough, yet necessary, and if it could appear +suicide, eh? Well, we will see. We––will––see!”</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>At seven in the morning the Granados telephone bell +brought Singleton into the patio in his dressing gown and +slippers. And Doña Luz who was seeing that his breakfast +was served, heard him express surprise and then say:</p> +<p>“Why, certainly. If you are coming this way as far +on the road as the Jefferson ranch of course we can meet +there, and I only need to go half way. That will be excellent. +Yes, and if Judge Jefferson is at home he may +be able to help with his advice. Fine! Good-bye.”</p> +<p>When Doña Luz was questioned about it later she was +quite sure Mr. Singleton mentioned no name, his words +were as words to a friend.</p> +<p>But all that day the telephone was out of order on the +Granados line, and Singleton did not return that night. +There was nothing to cause question in that, as he had +probably gone on to Nogales, but when the second day +came and the telephone not working, Billie started Pedro +Vijil to ride the line to Granados Junction, get the mail, +and have a line man sent out for repairs wherever they +were needed.</p> +<p>It was puzzling because there had been no storm, nothing +of which they knew to account for the silent wire. +The line was an independent one from the Junction, and +there were only two stations on it, the Jefferson ranch +and Granados.</p> +<p>But Vijil forgot about the wire, for he met some sheep +men from the hills carrying the body of Singleton. They +had found him in the cottonwoods below the road not +five miles from the hacienda. His car he had driven off +the road back of a clump of thick mesquite. The revolver +was still in his hand, and the right temple covered +with black blood and flies.</p> +<p>There was nothing better to do than what the herders +were doing. The man had been dead a day and must be +buried, also it was necessary to send a man to Jefferson’s, +where there was a telephone, to get in touch with someone +in authority and arrange for the funeral.</p> +<p>So the herders walked along with their burden carried +in a <i>serape</i>, and covered by the carriage robe. Pedro had +warned them to halt at his own house, for telephone calls +would certainly gather men, who would help to arrange +all decently before the body was taken into the <i>sala</i> of +Granados.</p> +<p>There is not much room for conjecture as to the means +of a man’s taking off when he is found with a bullet in his +right temple, a revolver in his right hand, and only one +empty cartridge shell in the revolver. There seemed no +mystery about the death, except the cause of suicide.</p> +<p>It was the same evening that Conrad riding in from +the south, attempted to speak over the wire with Granados +and got from Central information that the Granados wire +was broken, and Singleton, the proprietor, a suicide.</p> +<p>The coroner’s inquest so pronounced it, after careful +investigation of the few visible facts. Conrad was of no +value as a witness because he had been absent in Magdalena. +He could surmise no reason for such an act, +but confessed he knew practically nothing of Singleton’s +personal affairs. He was guardian of his stepdaughter +and her estate, and so far as Conrad knew all his relations +with the personnel of the estate were most amicable. +Conrad acknowledged when questioned that Singleton +did usually carry a revolver when out in the car, he had a +horror of snakes, and he had never known him to use a +gun for anything else.</p> +<p>Doña Luz Moreno confused matters considerably by +her statement that Mr. Singleton was going to meet some +man at the Jefferson ranch because the man had called +him up before breakfast to arrange it. Later it was +learned that no call was made from any station over +the wire that morning to Granados. There was in fact +several records of failure to get Granados. No one but +Doña Luz had heard the call and heard Singleton reply, +yet it was not possible that this communication could +be a fact over a broken wire, and the wire was found +broken between the Jefferson ranch and Granados.</p> +<p>Whereupon word promptly went abroad among the +Mexicans that Señor Singleton had been lured to his +death by a spirit voice calling over a broken wire as a +friend to a friend. For the rest of her life Doña Luz +will have that tale to tell as the evidence of her own ears +that warnings of death do come from the fearsome spirits +of the shadowed unknown land,––and this in denial of all +the padres’ godly discourse to the contrary!</p> +<p>A Mr. Frederick James of Nogales, connected with a +group of charitable gentlemen working for the alleviating +of distress among the many border exiles from Mexico, +was the only person who came forward voluntarily to +offer help to the coroner regarding the object of the dead +man’s journey to Nogales. Mr. James had been called +on the telephone by Mr. Singleton, who was apparently +in great distress of mind concerning mysterious illness +and deaths of horses shipped from Granados to France. +A telegram had come from New York warning him that +the Department of Justice was investigating the matter, +and the excitement and nervousness of Mr. Singleton was +such that Mr. James readily consented to a meeting in +Nogales, with the hope that he might be of service in any +investigation they would decide upon after consultation. +When Mr. Singleton did not keep the engagement, Mr. +James attempted to make inquiries by telephone. He +tried again the following morning, but it was only after +hearing of the suicide––he begged pardon––the death of +Mr. Singleton, that he recalled the fact that all of Singleton’s +discourse over the telephone had been unusual, excitable +to a degree, while all acquaintances of the dead +man knew him as a quiet, reserved man, really unusually +reserved, almost to the point of the secretive. Mr. James +was struck by the unusual note of panic in his tones, but +as a carload of horses was of considerable financial value, +he ascribed the excitement in part to that, feeling confident +of course that Mr. Singleton was in no ways accountable +for the loss, but–––</p> +<p>Mr. James was asked if the nervousness indicated by +Mr. Singleton was a fear of personal consequences following +the telegram, but Mr. James preferred not to say. +He had regarded Mr. Singleton as a model of most of the +virtues, and while Singleton’s voice and manner had certainly +been unusual, he could not presume to suspect the +inner meaning of it.</p> +<p>The telegraph and telephone records bore out the testimony +of Mr. James.</p> +<p>The fact that the first telegram was addressed to the +manager, Mr. Conrad, had apparently nothing to do with +the case, since the telegraph files showed that messages +were about evenly divided in the matter of address concerning +ranch matters. They were often addressed simply +to “Granados Rancho” or “Manager Granados Ranch.” +This one simply happened to be addressed to the name of +the manager.</p> +<p>The coroner decided that the mode of address had no +direct bearing on the fact that the man was found dead +under the cottonwoods with copies of both telegrams in +his pocket, both written in a different hand from his carefully +clear script as shown in his address book. Safe in +his pocket also was money, a gold watch with a small +gold compass, and a handsome seal ring. Nothing was +missing, which of course precluded the thought of murder +for robbery, and Philip Singleton was too mildly negative +to make personal enemies, a constitutional neutral.</p> +<p>Billie, looking very small and very quiet, was brought +in by Doña Luz and Mr. Jefferson of the neighboring +ranch, fifty miles to the east. She had not been weeping. +She was too stunned for tears, and there was a strangely +ungirlish tension about her, an alert questioning in her +eyes as she looked from face to face, and then returned +to the face of the one man who was a stranger, the kindly +sympathetic face of Mr. Frederick James.</p> +<p>She told of the telegrams she had copied, and of the +distress of Singleton, but that his distress was no more +than her own, that she had been crying about the horses, +and he had tried to comfort her. She did not believe he +had a trouble in the world of his own, and he had never +killed himself––never!</p> +<p>When asked if she had any reason to suspect a murderer, +she said if they ever found who killed the horses +they would find who killed her Papa Phil, but this opinion +was evidently not shared by any of the others. The +report of horses dead on a transport in the Atlantic ocean, +and a man dead under the cottonwoods in Arizona, did +not appear to have any definite physical relation to each +other, unless of course the loss of the horses had proven +too much of a shock to Mr. Singleton and upset his +nerves to the extent that moody depression had developed +into temporary dementia. His own gun had been the evident +agent of death.</p> +<p>One of the Mexicans recalled that Singleton had discharged +an American foreman in anger, and that the man +had been in a rage about it, and assaulted Mr. Conrad, +whereupon Conrad was recalled, and acknowledged the +assault with evident intent to kill. Yes, he heard the man +Rhodes had threatened Singleton with a nastier accident +than his attempt on Conrad. No, he had not heard it +personally, as he was unconscious when the threat was +made.</p> +<p>“It wasn’t a threat!” interrupted Billie, “it was something +different, a warning.”</p> +<p>“A warning of what?”</p> +<p>Billie was about to quote Kit’s opinion concerning +Singleton’s ranch force, when she was halted by a strange +thing––for Billie; it was merely the mild steady gaze +of the quiet gentleman of the peaceful league of the neutrals. +There was a slight lifting of his brows as she +spoke of a warning; and then a slight suggestion of a +smile––it might have been a perfectly natural incredulous +smile, but Billie felt that it was not. The yellowish +brown eyes narrowed until only the pupils were visible, +and warm though the day was, Billie felt a swift chill +over her, and her words were cautious.</p> +<p>“I can’t say, I don’t know, but Kit Rhodes had no +grudge against Papa Phil. He seemed in some way to +be sorry for him.”</p> +<p>She noted that Conrad’s gaze was on the face of Mr. +James instead of on her.</p> +<p>“Sorry for him?”</p> +<p>“Y-yes, sort of. He tried to explain why, but Papa +would not listen, and would not make any engagement +with him. Sent his money by Captain Pike and wouldn’t +see him. But Kit Rhodes did not make a threat, he +did not!”</p> +<p>Her last denial was directly at Conrad, who merely +shrugged his shoulders as if to dispose of that awkward +phase of the matter.</p> +<p>“It was told me so, but the Mexican men might not +have understood the words of Rhodes––he was in a rage––and +it may be he did not mean so much as he said.”</p> +<p>“But he didn’t say it!” insisted Billie.</p> +<p>“Very good, he did not, and it is a mistake of mine,” +agreed Conrad politely. “For quite awhile I was unconscious +after his assault, naturally I know nothing of +what was said.”</p> +<p>“And where is this man Rhodes to be found?” asked +the coroner, and Conrad smiled meaningly.</p> +<p>“Nowhere,––or so I am told! He and a companion +are said to have crossed the line into Sonora twenty-four +hours before the death of Mr. Singleton.”</p> +<p>“Well, unless there is some evidence that he was seen +later on this side, any threat he might or might not have +made, has no relation whatever to this case. Is there any +evidence that he was seen at, or near, Granados after +starting for Sonora?”</p> +<p>No evidence was forthcoming, and the coroner, in +summoning up, confessed he was not satisfied to leave +certain details of the case a mystery.</p> +<p>That Singleton had discharged Rhodes in anger, and +Rhodes had, even by intimation, voiced a threat against +Singleton could not be considered as having any bearing +on the death of the latter; while the voice of the unknown +calling him to a meeting at Jefferson’s ranch was equally +a matter of mystery, since no one at Jefferson’s knew +anything of the message, or the speaker, and investigation +developed the fact that the telephone wire was broken +between the two ranches, and there was no word at +Granados Junction Central of any message to Granados +after five o’clock the afternoon of the previous day.</p> +<p>And, since Philip Singleton never reached the Jefferson +ranch, but turned his car off the road at the cottonwood +cañon, and was found with one bullet in his head, and +the gun in his own hand, it was not for a coroner’s jury +to conjecture the impulse leading up to the act, or the +business complications by which the act might, or might +not, have been hastened. But incomprehensible though +it might seem to all concerned there was only one finding +on the evidence submitted, and that was suicide.</p> +<p>“Papa Phil never killed himself, never!” declared +Billie. “That would be two suicides in a month for +Granados, and two is one too many. We never had +suicides here before.”</p> +<p>“Who was the other?”</p> +<p>“Why, Miguel Herrara who had been arrested for +smuggling, was searched and his gun taken, and yet that +night found a gun to kill himself with in the adobe where +he was locked up! Miguel would not have cared for a +year or two in jail; he had lived there before, and hadn’t +tried any killing. I tell you Granados is getting more +than its share.”</p> +<p>“It sure looks like it, little lady,” agreed the coroner, +“but Herrara’s death gives us no light or evidence on +Singleton’s death, and our jurisdiction is limited strictly +to the hand that held the gun. The evidence shows it was +in the hand of Mr. Singleton when found.”</p> +<p>The Jeffersons insisted that Billie go home with them, +as the girl appeared absolutely and pathetically alone in +the world. She knew of no relatives, and Tia Luz and +Captain Pike were the only two whom she had known +from babyhood as friends of her father’s.</p> +<p>The grandmother of Billie Bernard had been the daughter +of a Spanish <i>haciendado</i> who was also an officer in +the army of Mexico. He met death in battle before he +ever learned that his daughter, in the pious work of nursing +friend and enemy alike, had nursed one enemy of +the hated North until each was captive to the other, and +she rode beside him to her father’s farthest northern +rancho beyond the Mexican deserts, and never went +again to the gay circles of Mexico’s capital. Late in her +life one daughter, Dorotea was born, and when Alfred +Bernard came out of the East and looked on her, a blonde +Spanish girl as her ancestresses of Valencia had been, +the game of love was played again in the old border +rancho which was world enough for the lovers. There +had been one eastern summer for them the first year of +their marriage, and Philip Singleton had seen her there, +and never forgot her. After her widowhood he crossed +the continent to be near her, and after awhile his devotion, +and her need of help in many ways, won the place +he coveted, and life at Granados went on serenely until +her death. Though he had at times been bored a bit by +the changelessness of ranch life, yet he had given his +word to guard the child’s inheritance until she came of +age, and had kept it loyally as he knew how until death +met him in the cañon of the cottonwoods.</p> +<p>But the contented isolation of her immediate family +left Billie only such guardian as the court might appoint +for her property and person, and Andrew Jefferson, +Judge Jefferson by courtesy, in the county, would no +doubt be choice of the court as well as the girl. Beyond +that she could only think of Pike, and––well Pike was +out of reach on some enchanted gold trail of which she +must not speak, and she supposed she would have to go +to school instead of going in search of him!</p> +<p>Conrad spoke to her kindly as she was led to the Jefferson +car, and there was a subtle deference in his +manner, indicating his realization that he was speaking––not +to the wilful little maid who could be annoying––but +to the owner of Granados and, despite his five year contract +as manager, an owner who could change entirely +the activities of the two ranches in another year––and +it was an important year.</p> +<p>He also spoke briefly to Mr. James offering him the +hospitality of the ranch for a day of rest before returning +to Nogales, but the offer was politely declined. Mr. +James intimated that he was at Conrad’s service if he +could be of any practical use in the mysterious situation. +He carefully gave his address and telephone number, and +bade the others good day. But as he was entering his +little roadster he spoke again to Conrad.</p> +<p>“By the way, it was a mistake to let that man Rhodes +get over into Sonora. It should be the task of someone +to see that he does not come back. He seems a very dangerous +man. See to it!”</p> +<p>The words were those of a kindly person interested +in the welfare of the community, and evidently impressed +by the evidence referring to the discharged range boss. +Two of the men hearing him exchanged glances, for they +also thought that rumor of the threats should have been +looked into. But the last three words were spoken too +softly for any but Conrad to hear.</p> +<p>The following week Billie went to Tucson with the +Jeffersons and at her request Judge Jefferson was appointed +guardian of her person and estate, after which +she and the judge went into a confidential session concerning +that broken wire on the Granados line.</p> +<p>“I’m not loco, Judge,” she insisted, “but I want you to +learn whether that wire was cut on purpose, or just broke +itself. Also I want you to take up that horse affair with +the secret service people. I don’t want Conrad to be sent +away––yet. I’d rather watch him on Granados. I +won’t go away to school; I’d rather have a teacher at +home. We can find one.”</p> +<p>“But, do you realize that with two mysterious deaths +on Granados lately, you might run some personal risk of +living there with only yourself and two women in the +house? I’m not sure we can sanction that, my child.”</p> +<p>Billie smiled at him a bit wanly, but decided.</p> +<p>“Now Judge, you know I picked you because you +would let me do whatever I pleased, and I don’t mean to +be disappointed with you. Half the men at the inquest +think that Kit Rhodes did come back to do that shooting, +and you know Conrad and the very smooth rat of the +Charities Society are accountable for that opinion. The +Mexican who dragged in Kit’s name is one of Conrad’s +men; it all means something! It’s a bad muddle, but +Kit Rhodes and Cap Pike will wander back here some of +these days, and I mean to have every bit of evidence for +Kit to start in with. He suspected a lot, and all Granados +combined to silence him––fool Granados!”</p> +<p>“But, just between ourselves, child, are you convinced +Rhodes did not make the statement liable to be construed +into a threat against Mr. Singleton?”</p> +<p>“Convinced nothing,” was the inelegant reply of his +new ward. “I heard him say enough to hang him if evidence +could be found that he was north of the line that +morning, and that’s why it’s my job to take note of all the +evidence on the other side. The horses did not kill themselves. +That telegram concerning it did not send itself. +Papa Phil did not shoot himself, and that telephone wire +did not cut itself! My hunch is that those four things go +together, and that’s a combination they can’t clear up by +dragging in the name of a man who never saw the horses, +and who was miles south in Sonora with Cap Pike when +the other three things happened. Now can they?”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='CHAPTER_VII_IN_THE_PROVINCE_OF_ALTAR' id='CHAPTER_VII_IN_THE_PROVINCE_OF_ALTAR'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> +<h3>IN THE PROVINCE OF ALTAR</h3> +</div> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'><i>There was a frog who lived in the spring:<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Sing-song Kitty, can’t yo’ carry me, oh?<br /> +And it was so cold that he could not sing,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Sing-song Kitty, can’t yo’ carry me, oh?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Ke-mo! Ki-mo! Dear––oh my!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>To my hi’––to my ho––to my–––</i></p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>“Oh! For the love of Mike! Bub, can’t you give +a man a rest instead of piling up the agony? +These old joints of mine are creakin’ with every move +from desert rust and dry camps, and you with no more +heart in you than to sing of springs,––cold springs!”</p> +<p>“They do exist, Cap.”</p> +<p>“Uh––huh, they are as real to us this minute as the +red gold that we’ve trailed until we’re at the tag end of +our grub stake. I tell you, Bub, they stacked the cards +on us with that door of the old Soledad Mission, and the +view of the gold cañon from there! Why, Whitely +showed us that the mission door never did face the hills, +but looked right down the valley towards the Rio del +Altar just as the Soledad plaza does today; all the old +Mexicans and Indians tell us that.”</p> +<p>“Well, we’ve combed over most of the arroyas leading +into the Altar from Rancho Soledad, and all we’ve found +is placer gravel; yet the placers are facts, and the mother +lode is somewhere, Cap.”</p> +<p>“Worn down to pan dirt, that’s what!” grunted Pike. +“I tell you these heathen sit around and dream lost mission +tales and lost mine lies; dream them by the dozen +to delude just such innocent yaps as you and me. They’ve +nothing else to do between crops. We should have stuck +to a white man’s land, north into Arizona where the Three +Hills of Gold are waiting, to say nothing of the Lost +Stone Cabin mine, lost not twenty miles from Quartzite, +and in plain sight of Castle Dome. Now there is nothing +visionary about <i>that</i>, Kit! Why, I knew an old-timer +who freighted rich ore out of that mine thirty years ago, +and even the road to it has been lost for years! We +know things once did exist up in that country, Kit, and +down here we are all tangled up with Mexican-Indian +stories of ghosts and enchantments, and such vagaries. +I’m fed up with them to the limit, for everyone of them +we listen to is different from the last. We’ll head up into +the Castle Dome country next time, hear me?”</p> +<p>“Sure, I hear,” agreed Kit cheerfully. “Perhaps we +do lose, but it’s not so bad. Since Whitely sent his family +north, he has intimated that Mesa Blanca is a single +man’s job, and I reckon I can have it when he goes––as +he will. Then in the month we have scouted free of +Whitelys, we have dry washed enough dust to put you +on velvet till things come our way. Say, what will you +bet that a month of comfort around Nogales won’t make +you hungry for the trail again?”</p> +<p>“A gold trail?” queried the weary and dejected Pike.</p> +<p>“Any old trail to any old place just so we keep +ambling on. You can’t live contented under cover, and +you know it.”</p> +<p>“Well,” decided Pike after a rod or two of tramping +along the shaly, hot bed of a dry arroya. “I won’t bet, +for you may be among the prophets. But while you are +about it, I’d be thankful if you’d prophesy me a wet trail +next time instead of skimpy mud holes where springs +ought to be. I’m sick of dry camps, and so is Baby +Buntin’.”</p> +<p>“<i>‘Oh, there was a frog lived in the spring!’</i>” chanted +Kit derisively. “Cheer up, Cap, the worst is yet to come, +for I’ve an idea that the gang of Mexican vaqueros we +glimpsed from the butte at noon will just about muss up +the water hole in Yaqui cañon until it will be us for a +sleep there before the fluid is fit for a water bottle. <i>‘Oh, +there was a frog lived in the spring!’</i> Buntin’ Baby, +we’ll fish the frog out, and let you wallow in it instead, +you game little dusty rat! Say, Pike, when we load up +with grub again we’ll keep further west to the Cerrado +Pintado. I’ll follow a hunch of my own next trip.”</p> +<p>The older man grunted disdain for the hunches of Kit, +even while his eyes smiled response to the ever-living call +of youth. To Rhodes there was ever a “next time.” He +was young enough to deal in futures, and had a way with +him by which friends were to be found for even unstable +venturings with no backing more substantial than a +“hunch.”</p> +<p>Not that Kit was gifted with any great degree of fatal +beauty––men are not often pretty on the trail, unwashed, +unshaven, and unshorn––added to which their equipment +had reached the point where his most pretentious +garment was a square of an Indian <i>serape</i> with a hole in +the middle worn as a poncho, and adopted to save his coat +and other shirt on the hard trail.</p> +<p>Cap Pike growled that he looked like a Mexican peon +in that raiment, which troubled Kit not at all. He was +red bronze from the desert days, and his blue eyes, with +the long black lashes of some Celtic ancestor, looked out +on the world with direct mild approval. They matched +the boyish voice much given to trolling old-time ditties +and sentimental foolishness.</p> +<p>He led the dappled roan over the wild dry “wash” +where the sand was deep and slippery, and the white +crust of alkali over all. Before him swayed the pack +mules, and back of him Captain Pike sagged on the little +gray burro, named in derision and affection, the Baby +Bunting of the outfit.</p> +<p>The jauntiness was temporarily eliminated from the +old prospector. Two months of fruitless scratching +gravel when he had expected to walk without special +delay to the great legendary deposit, had taken the sparkle +of hope from the blue eyes, and he glanced perfunctorily +at the walls of that which had once been a river bed.</p> +<p>“What in time do you reckon became of all the water +that used to fill these dry gullies?” he asked querulously. +“Why, it took a thousand years of floods to wash these +boulders round, and then leave them high and dry when +nicely polished. That’s a waste in nature I can’t figure +out, and this godforsaken territory is full of them.”</p> +<p>“Well, you grouch, if we didn’t have this dry bed to +skip along, we would be bucking the greasewood and +cactus on the mesa above. So we get some favors coming +our way.”</p> +<p>“Skip along,––me eye!” grunted Pike, as the burro +toiled laboriously through the sand, and Kit shifted and +stumbled over treacherous, half-buried boulders. “Say, +Kit, don’t you reckon it’s time for Billie to answer my +letter? It’s over eight weeks now, and mail ought to get +in once a month.”</p> +<p>Rhodes grunted something about “mail in normal +times, but these times were not normal,” and did not seem +much interested in word from Granados.</p> +<p>He had not the heart, or else had too much, to tell the +old man that the letter to Billie never reached her. When +Whitely went north he put it in his coat pocket, and then +changed his coat! Kit found it a month later and held +it, waiting to find someone going out. He had not even +mentioned it to Whitely on his return, for Whitely was +having his own troubles, and could not spare a man for +a four day trip to mail.</p> +<p>Whitely’s folks lived north of Naco, and he had gone +there direct and returned without touching at Nogales, or +hearing of the tragedy at Granados. The latest news of +the Mexican revolutions, and the all-absorbing question +as to whether the United States would or would not intervene, +seemed all the news the worried Whitely had +brought back. Even the slaughter of a dozen nations of +Europe had no new features to a ranchman of Sonora,––it +remained just slaughter. And one did not need to cross +boundaries to learn of killings, for all the world seemed +aflame, and every state in Mexico had its own wars,––little +or big.</p> +<p>Then, in the records of the tumultuous days, there was +scarce space for the press or people to give thought after +the first day or two, to the colorless life going out in +mystery under the cottonwoods of Granados, and no word +came to tell Rhodes of the suspicion, only half veiled, +against himself.</p> +<p>The ranch house of Mesa Blanca was twenty miles +from the hacienda of Soledad, and a sharp spur of the +Carrizal range divided their grazing lands. Soledad +reached a hundred miles south and Mesa Blanca claimed +fifty miles to the west, so that the herds seldom mingled, +but word filtered to and from between the vaqueros, and +Rhodes heard that Perez had come north from Hermosillo +and that El Aleman, (the German) had made the two day +trip in from the railroad, and had gone on a little <i>pasear</i> +to the small rancherias with Juan Gonsalvo, the half-breed +overseer. The vaqueros talked with each other +about that, for there were no more young men among +them for soldiers, only boys and old men to tend the +cattle, and what did it mean?</p> +<p>The name of Rhodes was not easy for the Mexican +tongue, and at Mesa Blanca his identity was promptly +lost in the gift of a name with a meaning to them, El +Pajarito, (the singer). +Capitan Viajo, (the old captain), +was accepted by Pike with equal serenity, as both men +were only too well pleased to humor the Indian ranch +people in any friendly concessions, for back of some of +those alert black eyes there were surely inherited records +of old pagan days, and old legends of golden veins in the +hills.</p> +<p>The fact that they were left practically nameless in a +strange territory did not occur to either of them, and +would not have disturbed them if it had. They had met +no American but Whitely since they first struck Mesa +Blanca. One month Kit had conscientiously stuck to the +ranch cares while Whitely took his family out, and Pike +had made little sallies into the hills alone.</p> +<p>On Whitely’s return he had made an errand to Soledad +and taken Rhodes and Pike along that they might view the +crumbled walls of old Soledad Mission, back of the ranch +house. The ancient rooms of the mission padres were +now used principally as corrals, harness shop, and storage +rooms.</p> +<p>The situation in itself was one of rare beauty;––those +old padres knew!</p> +<p>It was set on a high plain or mesa, facing a wide valley +spreading miles away to the south where mother-of-pearl +mountains were ranged like strung jewels far against the +Mexican sky. At the north, slate-blue foothills lifted +their sharp-edged shoulders three miles away, but only +blank walls of Soledad faced the hills, all portals of the +old mission appeared to have faced south, as did Soledad. +The door facing the hills was a myth. And as Rhodes +stood north of the old wall, and searched its thirty-mile +circle, he could understand how four generations of gold +seekers had failed to find even a clue to the wealth those +unknown padres had looked on, and sent joyous evidence +of to the viceroy of the south. It would take years of +systematic search to cover even half the visible range. +A man could devote a long lifetime to a fruitless search +there, and then some straying burro might uncover it for +an Indian herder who would fill his poncho, and make a +sensation for a week or two, and never find the trail +again!</p> +<p>“It’s just luck!” said Kit thinking it all over as he +tramped along the arroya bed, “it either belongs to you, +or it doesn’t. No man on earth can buy it and make +it stay, but if it is yours, no man can keep you from it +entirely.”</p> +<p>“What the devil are you yammering about?” asked +Pike grumpily.</p> +<p>“Oh, I was just thinking of how Whitely exploded our +little balloon of hopes when he took us over to size up +the prospects at Soledad. I wonder if Perez has no white +help at all around that place. We did not even see the +foreman.”</p> +<p>“He’s a half-breed, that Juan Gonsalvo. The Indians +don’t like him. He’s from down Hermosillo way, and not +like these Piman children of nature. He and Conrad +are up to some devilment, but Whitely thinks Juan took +the job, deluded as we are, with the notion that a gold +mine was sticking up out of the ground at the Soledad +corrals, and it was to be his find. You see, Bub, that +story has gone the length of Mexico, and even over to +Spain. Oh, we are not the only trailers of ghost gold; +there are others!”</p> +<p>The slanting sun was sending shadows long on the +levels, and the hills were looming to the east in softest +tones of gray and amethyst; the whitish green of desert +growths lay between, and much of brown desert yet to +cross.</p> +<p>“We can’t make the foothills tonight even though +there is an early moon,” decided Kit. “But we can break +camp at dawn and make it before the sun is high, and the +water will hold out that long.”</p> +<p>“It will hold for Buntin’ and the mules, but what of +Pardner?” asked the older man. “He’s not used to this +hard pan gravel scratching.”</p> +<p>“But he’s thoroughbred, and he can stand it twelve +hours more if I can, can’t you, old pal?” The tall roan +with the dot of black between the eyes returned his +owner’s caress by nosing his bare neck, and the hand +held up to smooth the black mane.</p> +<p>“I’ll be glad enough to see him safe across the border +in old Arizona,” observed Pike. “I can’t see how the +herders saved him for you at Mesa Blanca when their +own stock was picked of its best for the various patriots +charging through the settlements.”</p> +<p>“Some way, Miguel, the Indian vaquero, managed it, +or got his girl to hide it out. Whitely confessed that his +Indian cattlemen are the most loyal he can find down +here.”</p> +<p>“But it’s not a white man’s land––yet, and I’m downright +glad he’s shipped his family north. There’s always +hell enough in Sonora, but it’s a dovecote to what it’s +bound to be before the end comes, and so, it’s no place for +white men’s wives.”</p> +<p>“Right you are! Say, what was it Whitely heard down +in Sinaloa concerning the Enchanted Cañon mine?”</p> +<p>“Oh, some old priest’s tale––the same dope we got +with a different slant to it. The gold nuggets from some +shrine place where the water gushed <i>muy fuerte</i>, by a +sycamore tree. Same old nuggets sent out with the message, +and after that the insurrection of the Indians, and +the priests who found it never lived to get out. Why, +Bub, that is nearly two hundred years ago! Stop and +think of the noble Castilians going over Sonora with a +fine tooth comb for that trail ever since and then think of +the nerve of us!”</p> +<p>“Well, I’m nearer to it anyway than the Dutchman +who trekked in from the south last year with copies of +the old mission reports as guide, for the Yaquis killed +him, and took his records, while they hide my horse for +me.”</p> +<p>“Huh! yes, and warn you to ride him north!”</p> +<p>“Correct;––but Pike, it was a warning, not a threat! +Oh, I’m coming back all right, all right! That gold by +the hidden stream sure has got me roped and hog tied +for keeps.”</p> +<p>Pike growled good-natured disdain of his confidence, +and suggested that the stream, which was probably only a +measly mud hole, could have dropped to purgatory in an +earthquake tremor since those first old mission days, or +filled up with quicksand.</p> +<p>“Right you are, Cap. That’s a first-rate idea,” agreed +Kit the irrepressible. “Next trip we’ll start looking for +streams that were and are not; we’re in the bed of one +now for that matter!”</p> +<p>“Somewhere ahead we should come into the trail south +from Carracita,” observed Pike, “but I reckon you’d just +as soon camp with Pard out of sight of the trail.”</p> +<p>There was silence for a bit as they plodded on up the +wide dry bed of the river, and then Kit turned, glancing +at the old man keenly.</p> +<p>“I didn’t fool you much when I called that gang +‘vaqueros,’ did I?” he observed. “Well, they didn’t +look good to me, and I decided I’d have to fight for my +horse if we crossed trails, and––it wastes a lot of time, +fighting does.”</p> +<p>“No, you didn’t fool me. You’d be seven kinds of an +idiot to walk in this gully of purgatory when you could +ride safely on the mesa above, so I guessed you had a +hunch it was the friendly and acquisitive patriots.”</p> +<p>“Pike, they were between us and the Palomitas +rancherias of Mesa Blanca or I’d have made a try to get +through and warn the Indians there. Those men had no +camp women with them, so they were not a detachment of +the irregular cavalry,––that’s what puzzles me. And +their horses were fresh. It’s some new devilment.”</p> +<p>“There’s nothing new in Sonora, son. Things happen +over and over the same.”</p> +<p>The shadows lengthened, and the blue range to the east +had sharp, black edges against the saffron sky, and the +men plodding along over sand and between boulders, fell +silent after the little exchange of confidence as to choice +of trail. Once Kit left the gully and climbed the steep +grade to the mesa alone to view the landscape over, but +slid and scrambled down,––hot, dusty, and vituperative.</p> +<p>“Not a sign of life but some carrion crows moving +around in the blue without flop of a wing,” he grumbled. +“Who started the dope that mankind is the chosen of the +Lord? Huh! we have to scratch gravel for all we rake +in but the birds of the air have us beat for desert travel +all right, all right!”</p> +<p>“Well, Bub, if you saw no one’s dust it must be that +gang were not headed for Palomitas or Whitely’s.”</p> +<p>“They could strike Palomitas, and circle over to the +east road without striking Whitely’s home corrals,” said +Kit thoughtfully.</p> +<p>“Sure they could, but what’s the object? If it’s cattle +or horses they’re after the bigger ranch is the bigger +haul?”</p> +<p>“Yes,––if it’s stock they’re after,” agreed Kit somberly.</p> +<p>“Why, lad, what––what’s got you now?”</p> +<p>“I reckon it’s the damned buzzards,” acknowledged the +younger man. “I don’t know what struck me as I sat +up there watching them. Maybe it’s their blackness, +maybe it’s their provender, maybe it was just the loco of +their endless drifting shadows, but for a minute up there +I had an infernal sick feeling. It’s a new one on me, and +there was nothing I could blame it on but disgust of the +buzzards.”</p> +<p>“You’re goin’ too shy on the water, and never knew +before that you had nerves,” stated Pike sagely. “I’ve +been there; fought with a pardner once,––Jimmy Dean, +till he had to rope me. You take a pull at the water +bottle, and take it now.”</p> +<p>Kit did so, but shook his head.</p> +<p>“It touches the right spot, but it was not a thirst +fancy. It was another thought and––O Bells of Pluto! +Pike, let’s talk of something else! What was that you +said about the Sinaloa priest story of the red gold? You +said something about a new slant on the old dope.”</p> +<p>“Uh-huh!” grunted Pike. “At least it was a new +slant to me. I’ve heard over and over about uprising of +Indians, and death of the two priests who found their +mine, but this Sinaloa legend has it that the Indians did +not kill the priests, but that their gods did!”</p> +<p>“Their gods?”</p> +<p>“Yeh, the special gods of that region rose up and +smote them. That’s why the Indians barred out other +mission priests for so long a spell that no white man +remembered just where the lost shrine of the red gold +was. Of course it’s all punk, Bub, just some story of the +heathen sheep to hide the barbecuing of their shepherds.”</p> +<p>“Maybe so, but I’ve as much curiosity as a pet coon. +What special process did their gods use to put the friars +out of commission?”</p> +<p>“Oh, lightning. The original priests’ report had it that +the red gold was at some holy place of the tribes, a shrine +of some sort. Well, you know the usual mission rule––if +they can’t wean the Indian from his shrine, they +promptly dig foundations and build a church there under +heavenly instructions. That’s the story of this shrine of +El Alisal where the priests started to build a little branch +chapel or <i>visita</i>, for pious political reasons––and built it +at the gold shrine. It went down in the priests’ letter +or record as gold of rose, a deep red gold. Well, under +protest, the Indians helped build a shack for a church +altar under a great aliso tree there, but when lightning +struck the priests, killed both and burned the shack, you +can see what that manifestation would do to the Indian +mind.”</p> +<p>Kit halted, panting from the heart-wearying trail, and +looked Pike over disgustedly.</p> +<p>“Holy mackerel! Pike, haven’t you <i>any</i> imagination? +You’ve had this new side to the story for over a month +and never even cheeped about it! I heard you and +Whitely talking out on the porch, but I didn’t hear this!”</p> +<p>“Why, Bub, it’s just the same old story, everyone of +them have half a dozen different sides to it.”</p> +<p>“But this one explains things, this one has logic, this +one blazes a trail!” declared the enthusiast. “This one +explains good and plenty why no Indian has ever cheeped +about it, no money could bribe him to it. Can’t you see? +Of course that lightning was sent by their wrathy gods, +of course it was! But do you note that place of the gold, +and place of the shrine where the water rises, is also some +point where there is a dyke of iron ore near, a magnet +for the lightning? And that is not here in those sandy +mesas and rocky barrancas––it’s to the west in the hills, +Pike. Can’t you see that?”</p> +<p>“Too far from the old north and south trail, Bub. +There was nothing to take padres so far west to the hills. +The Indians didn’t even live there; only strayed up for +nuts and hunting in the season.”</p> +<p>“Save your breath!” jeered Kit. “It’s me to hike +back to Mesa Blanca and offer service at fifty dollars per, +and live like a miser until we can hit the trail again. I +may find a tenderfoot to buy that valley tract of mine up +in Yuma, and get cash out of that. Oh, we will get the +finances somehow! I’ll write a lawyer soon as we get +back to Whitely’s––God! what’s that?”</p> +<p>They halted, holding breath to listen.</p> +<p>“A coyote,” said Pike.</p> +<p>“No, only one animal screams like that––a wildcat +in the timber. But it’s no wildcat.”</p> +<p>Again the sound came. It was either from a distance +or else muffled by the barrier of the hill, a blood-curdling +scream of sickening terror.</p> +<p>A cold chill struck the men as they looked at each +other.</p> +<p>“The carrion crows knew!” said Kit. “You hold the +stock, Pike.”</p> +<p>He quickly slipped his rifle from its case, and started +up the knoll.</p> +<p>“The stock will stand,” said Pike. “I’m with you.”</p> +<p>As the two men ran upward to the summit and away +from the crunching of their own little outfit in the bed of +the dry river, they were struck by the sound of clatter +of hoofs and voices.</p> +<p>“Bub, do you know where we are?” asked Pike––“this +draw slants south and has brought us fair into the +Palomitas trail where it comes into the old Yaqui trail, +and on south to hell.”</p> +<p>“To hell it is, if it’s the slavers again after women,” +said Kit. “Come quiet.”</p> +<p>They reached the summit where cacti and greasewood +served as shield, and slightly below them they saw, against +the low purple hills, clouds of dust making the picture +like a vision and not a real thing, a line of armed horsemen +as outpost guards, and men with roped arms +stumbling along on foot slashed at occasionally with a +<i>reata</i> to hasten their pace. Women and girls were there, +cowed and drooping, with torn garments and bare feet. +Forty prisoners in all Kit counted of those within range, +ere the trail curved around the bend of a hill.</p> +<p>“But that scream?” muttered Kit. “All those women +are silent as death, but that scream?” Then he saw.</p> +<p>One girl was in the rear, apart from the rest of the +group. A blond-bearded man spurred his horse against +her, and a guard lashed at her to keep her behind. Her +scream of terror was lest she be separated from that most +woeful group of miserables. The horse was across the +road, blocking it, as the man with the light beard slid +from the saddle and caught her.</p> +<p>Kit’s gun was thrown into position as Pike caught his +hand.</p> +<p>“<i>No!</i>” he said. “Look at her!”</p> +<p>For the Indian girl was quicker far. From the belt of +her assailant she grasped a knife and lunged at his face +as he held her. His one hand went to his cheek where +the blood streamed, and his other to his revolver.</p> +<p>But even there she was before him, for she held the +knife in both hands against her breast, and threw herself +forward in the haze of dust.</p> +<p>The other guard dismounted and stared at the still +figure on the trail, then kicked her over until he could see +her face. One look was enough. He jerked the knife +from the dead body, wiped it on her <i>manta</i>, and turned +to tie a handkerchief over the cheek of the wounded +horseman.</p> +<p>Kit muttered an oath of horror, and hastily drew the +field glass from its case to stare at the man whose beard, +a false one, had been torn off in the struggle. It was not +easy to re-adjust it so that it would not interfere with the +bandage, and thus he had a very fair view of the man’s +features, and his thoughts were of Billie’s words to Conrad +concerning slave raids in Sonora. Had Billie really +suspected, or had she merely connected his Mexican +friends with reports of raids for girls in the little Indian +pueblos?</p> +<p>Pike reached for the glass, but by the time he could +focus it to fit his eyes, the man had re-mounted, riding +south, and there was only the dead girl left there where +she fell, an Indian girl they both knew, Anita, daughter +of Miguel, the major-domo of Mesa Blanca, whose own +little rancheria was with the Pimans at Palomitas.</p> +<p>“Look above, Cap,” said Kit.</p> +<p>Above two pair of black wings swept in graceful curves +against the saffron sky––waiting!</p> +<p>Rhodes went back to the outfit for pick and shovel, +and when twilight fell they made a grave there in the +dusky cañon of the desert.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='CHAPTER_VIII_THE_SLAVE_TRAIL' id='CHAPTER_VIII_THE_SLAVE_TRAIL'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> +<h3>THE SLAVE TRAIL</h3> +</div> +<p>They camped that night in the barranca, and next +morning a thin blue smoke a mile away drew Kit +out on the roan even in the face of the heat to be, and +the water yet to find. He hoped to discover someone +who had been more fortunate in escape.</p> +<p>He found instead an Indian he knew, one whose gray +hair was matted with blood and who stood as if dazed by +terror at sound of hoofs. It was Miguel, the Pima head +man of Mesa Blanca.</p> +<p>“Why, Miguel, don’t you know me?” asked Kit.</p> +<p>The eyes of the man had a strange look, and he did +not answer. But he did move hesitatingly to the horse +and stroked it.</p> +<p>“<i>Caballo,</i>” he said. “<i>Muy bueno, caballo.</i>”</p> +<p>“Yes,” agreed Pardner’s rider, “very good always.”</p> +<p>“<i>Si</i> señor, always.”</p> +<p>Kit swung from the saddle, and patted the old man’s +shoulder. He was plainly dazed from either a hurt, or +shock, and would without doubt die if left alone.</p> +<p>“Come, you ride, and we’ll go to camp, then find +water,” suggested Kit. “Camp here no good. Come +help me find water.”</p> +<p>That appeal penetrated the man’s mind more clearly. +Miguel had been the well-trusted one of the Indian +vaqueros, used to a certain dependence put upon him, +and he straightened his shoulders for a task.</p> +<p>“<i>Si</i> señor, a good padrone are you, and water it will +be found for you.” He was about to mount when he +halted, bewildered, and looked about him as if in search.</p> +<p>“All––my people––” he said brokenly. “My children +of me––my child!”</p> +<p>Kit knew that his most winning child lay newly covered +under the sand and stones he had gathered by moonlight +to protect the grave from coyotes.</p> +<p>But there was a rustle back of him and a black-eyed +elf, little more than a child, was standing close, shaking +the sand from her hair.</p> +<p>“I am hearing you speak. I know it is you, and I +come,” she said.</p> +<p>It was Tula, the younger daughter of Miguel,––one +who had carried them water from the well on her steady +head, and played with the babies on the earthen floors at +the pueblo of Palomitas.</p> +<p>But the childish humors were gone, and her face wore +the Indian mask of any age.</p> +<p>“Tell me,” said Kit.</p> +<p>“It is at Palomitas. I was in the willows by the well +when they came, Juan Gonsalvo and El Aleman, and +strange soldiers. All the women scream and make battle, +also the men, and that is when my father is hurt in the +head, that is when they are taking my mother, and Anita, +my sister. Some are hiding. And El Aleman and Juan +Gonsalvo make the count, and sent the men for search. +That is how it was.”</p> +<p>“Why do you say El Aleman?” asked Rhodes.</p> +<p>“I seeing him other time with Don José, and hearing +how he talk. Also Anita knowing him, and scream his +name––‘Don Adolf!’––when he catch her. Juan Gonsalvo +has a scarf tied over the face––all but the eyes, but +the Don Adolf has the face now covered with hairs and +I seeing him. They take all the people. My father is +hurt, but lives. He tries to follow and is much sick. My +mother is there, and Anita, my sister, is there. He thinks +it better to find them––it is his head is sick. He walks +far beside me, and does not know me.”</p> +<p>“You are hungry?”</p> +<p>She showed him a few grains of parched corn tied up +in the corner of her <i>manta</i>. “Water I have, and roots +of the sand.”</p> +<p>“Water,” repeated Miguel mechanically. “Yes, I am +the one who knows where it comes. I am the one to +show you.”</p> +<p>The eyes of the girl met Kit’s gaze of understanding.</p> +<p>“The hurt is of his head,” she stated again. “In the +night he made speech of strange old-time things, secret +things, and of fear.”</p> +<p>“So? Well, it was a bad night for old men and Indian +girls in the desert. Let’s be moving.”</p> +<p>Tula picked up her hidden wicker water bottle and +trudged on sandaled feet beside Kit. Miguel went into a +heap in the saddle, dazed, muttering disjointed Indian +words, only one was repeated often enough to make an +impression,––it was Cajame.</p> +<p>“What is Cajame?” he asked the girl, and she gave +him a look of tolerance.</p> +<p>“He was of chiefs the most great. He was killed for +his people. He was the father of my father.”</p> +<p>Kit tried to recall where he had heard the name, but +failed. No one had chanced to mention that Miguel, the +peaceful Piman, had any claims on famous antecedents. +He had always seemed a grave, silent man, intent only on +herding the stock and caring for the family, at the little +cluster of adobes by the well of Palomitas. It was about +two miles from the ranch house, but out of sight. An +ancient river hill terminated in a tall white butte at the +junction of two arroyas, and the springs feeding them +were the deciding influence regarding location of dwellings. +Rhodes could quickly perceive how a raid could +be made on Palomitas and, if no shots were fired, not be +suspected at the ranch house of Mesa Blanca.</p> +<p>The vague sentences of Miguel were becoming more +connected, and Kit, holding him in the saddle, was much +puzzled by some of them.</p> +<p>“It is so, and we are yet dying,” he muttered as he +swayed in the saddle. “We, the Yaqui, are yet dumb as +our fathers bade. But it is the end, señor, and the red +gold of Alisal is our own, and–––”</p> +<p>Then his voice dwindled away in mutterings and +Rhodes saw that the Indian girl was very alert, but +watching him rather than her father as she padded along +beside him.</p> +<p>“Where is it––Alisal?” he asked carelessly, and her +velvet-black eyes narrowed.</p> +<p>“I think not anyone is knowing. It is also evil to +speak of that place,” she said.</p> +<p>“What makes the evil?”</p> +<p>“Maybe so the padres. I no knowing, what you +think?”</p> +<p>But they had reached the place of camp where Cap +Pike had the packs on the animals, waiting and restless.</p> +<p>“Well, you’re a great little collector, Bub,” he observed. +“You start out on the bare sand and gravel and raise a +right pert family. Who’s your friend?”</p> +<p>Despite his cynical comment, he was brisk enough with +help when Miguel slid to the ground, ashen gray, and +senseless.</p> +<p>“Now we are up against trouble, with an old cripple +and a petticoat to tote, and water the other side of the +range.”</p> +<p>But he poured a little of the precious fluid down the +throat of the Indian, who recovered, but stared about +vacantly.</p> +<p>“Yes, señor,” he said nodding his head when his eyes +rested on Rhodes, “as you say––it is for the water––as +you say––it is the end––for the Yaqui. Dead is Cajame––die +all we by the Mexican! To you, señor, my child, +and El Alisal of the gold of the rose. So it will be, +señor. It is the end––the water is there, señor. It is +to you.”</p> +<p>“That’s funny,” remarked Pike, “he’s gone loony and +talking of old chief Cajame of the Yaquis. He was +hanged by the Mexican government for protesting against +loot by the officials. A big man he was, nothing trifling +about Cajame! That old Indian had eighty thousand in +gold in a government bank. Naturally the Christian +rulers couldn’t stand for that sort of shiftlessness in a +heathen! Years ago it was they burned him out, destroyed +his house and family;––the whole thing was +hellish.”</p> +<p>The girl squatting in the sand, never took her eyes off +Pike’s face. It was not so much the words, but the tone +and expression she gave note to, and then she arose and +moved over beside her father.</p> +<p>“No,” she said stolidly, “it is his families here, Yaqui +me––no Pima! Hiding he was when young, hiding with +Pima men all safe. The padre of me is son to Cajame,––only +to you it is told, you Americano!”</p> +<p>Her eyes were pitiful in their strained eagerness, striving +with all her shocked troubled soul to read the faces +of the two men, and staking all her hopes of safety in +her trust.</p> +<p>“You bet we’re Americano, Tula, and so will you be +when we get you over the border,” stated Rhodes recklessly. +“I don’t know how we are going to do it, Cap, +but I swear I’m not going to let a plucky little girl +like that go adrift to be lifted by the next gang of raiders. +We need a mascot anyway, and she is going to be it.”</p> +<p>“You’re a nice sort of seasoned veteran, Bub,” admitted +Pike dryly, “but in adopting a family it might be +as well to begin with a he mascot instead of what you’ve +picked. A young filly like that might turn hoodoo.”</p> +<p>“I reckon I’d have halted for a sober second thought if +it hadn’t been for that other girl under the stones down +there,” agreed Rhodes. “But shucks!––with all the +refugees we’re feeding across the line where’s the obstacle +to this one?”</p> +<p>The old prospector was busy with the wounded head +for the Indian and had no reply ready, but shook his head +ominously. Rhodes scowled and began uncoiling a <i>reata</i> +in case it would be needed to tie Miguel in the saddle.</p> +<p>“We’ve got to get some hustle to this outfit,” he observed +glancing at the sun. “It’s too far to take them +back to Whitely’s, and water has to be had. We are +really nearer to Soledad!”</p> +<p>The Indian girl came closer to him, speaking in a low, +level manner, strange and secretive, yet not a whisper.</p> +<p>“He does know––and water is there at that place,” +she said. “In the night I am hearing him speak all what +the ancients hide. He no can walk to that place, maybe I +no can walk, but go you for the gold in the hidden cañon. +You are Americano,––strong,––is it not? A brave heart +and much of gold of rose would bring safe again the +mother of me and my sister! All this I listen to in the +night. For them the gold of rose by the hidden water is +to be uncovered again. But see, his hands are weak, his +head is like the <i>niño</i> in the reed basket. A stronger heart +must find the way––it is you.”</p> +<p>Lowly, haltingly, she kept on that level-voiced decision. +It was evident that the ravings of her father +through the long hours of the dreadful night had filled +her mind with his one desire: to dare the very gods +that the red gold might be uncovered again, and purchase +freedom for the Indians on the exile road to the coast.</p> +<p>So low were her words that even Cap Pike, a rod away, +only heard the voice, but not the subject. It was further +evident that she meant but the one man to hear. Pike +had white hair and to her mind was, like her father, to +be protected from responsibilities, but Rhodes loomed +strong and kind, and braced by youth for any task.</p> +<p>Rhodes looked at her pityingly, and patted her head.</p> +<p>“I reckon we’re all a little loco, kid,” he observed. +“You’re so paralyzed with the hell you saw, and his +ravings that you think his dope of the gold is all gospel, +but it’s only a dream, sister,––a sick man’s fancy, though +you sure had me going for a minute, plum hypnotized +by the picture.”</p> +<p>“It is to hide always,” she said. “No man must know. +No other eyes must see, only you!”</p> +<p>“Sure,” he agreed.</p> +<p>“You promising all?”</p> +<p>“Sure again! Just to comfort you I promise that +when I find the gold of El Alisal I will use it to help get +your people.”</p> +<p>“Half,” she decided. “Half to you.”</p> +<p>“Half it is! You’re a great little planner for your +size, kid. Too bad it’s only a dream.”</p> +<p>Cap Pike rose to his feet, and gave a hand to Miguel, +who reeled, and then steadied himself gradually.</p> +<p>“Most thanks, señor,” he whispered, “and when we +reach the water–––”</p> +<p>They helped him into the saddle, and Rhodes walked +beside, holding him as he swayed.</p> +<p>They passed the new-made grave in the sand, and +Rhodes turned to the girl. “Sister,” he said, “lift two +stones and add to that pile there, one for you and one +for your father. Also look around and remember this +place.”</p> +<p>“I am no forgetting it,” she said as she lifted a stone +and placed it as he told her. “It is here the exile trail. +I mark the place where you take for me the Americano +road, and not the south road of the lost. So it is,––these +stone make witness.”</p> +<p>“I’ll be shot if I don’t believe you <i>are</i> old Cajames +stock,” said Cap Pike staring at her, and then meeting +the gaze of Rhodes in wonder at her clear-cut summing +up of the situation. “But he was a handful for the government +in his day, Bub, and I’m hornswaggled if I’d +pick out his breed for a kindergarten.”</p> +<p>The girl heard and understood at least the jocular tenor +of his meaning, but no glance in his direction indicated +it. She placed the second stone, and then in obedience +to Rhodes she looked back the way she had come where +the desert growth crisped in the waves of heat. On one +side lay the low, cactus-dotted hillocks, and on the other +the sage green and dull yellow faded into the blue mists +of the eastern range.</p> +<p>“I am no forgetting it, this place ever,” she said and +then lifted her water bottle and trudged on beside Rhodes. +“It is where my trail begins, with you.”</p> +<p>Cape Pike grinned at the joke on the boy, for it looked +as if the Yaqui girl were adopting <i>him</i>!</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='CHAPTER_IX_A_MEETING_AT_YAQUI_WELL' id='CHAPTER_IX_A_MEETING_AT_YAQUI_WELL'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> +<h3>A MEETING AT YAQUI WELL</h3> +</div> +<p>Good luck was with them, for the water hole in +Yaqui cañon had not been either muddied or exhausted, +evidence that the raiders had not ranged that +way. The sorry looking quartette fairly staggered into +the little cañon, and the animals were frantic with desire +to drink their fill.</p> +<p>“I was so near fried that the first gallon fairly sizzled +down my gullet,” confessed Cap Pike after a long glorious +hour of rest under the alamos with saturated handkerchief +over his burning eyes. “That last three mile stretch +was hell’s back yard for me. How you reckon the little +trick over there ever stood it?”</p> +<p>The Indian girl was resting near her father, and every +little while putting water on his face and hands. When +she heard the voice of Pike she sat up, and then started +quietly to pick up dry yucca stalks and bits of brushwood +for a fire.</p> +<p>“Look at that, would you, Bub,” commented Pike, +“the minute she sees you commence to open the cook kit +she is rustling for firewood. That little devil is made +of whalebone for toughness. Why, even the burros are +played out, but she is fresh as a daisy after a half hour’s +rest!”</p> +<p>Rhodes noted that the excitement by which she had +been swayed to confidence in the morning had apparently +burned out on the trail, for she spoke no more, only +served silently as generations of her mothers of the desert +had done, and waited, crouched back of her father, while +the men ate the slender meal of <i>carne seco</i>, <i>atole</i>, and +coffee.</p> +<p>Cap Pike suggested that she join them, but it was her +adopted guardian who protested.</p> +<p>“We won’t change their ways of women,” he decided. +“I notice that when white folks try to they are seldom +understood. How do we know whether that attitude is +an humble effacement, or whether the rank of that martyred +ancester exalts her too greatly to allow equality +with white stragglers of the range?”</p> +<p>Cap Pike snorted disdain.</p> +<p>“You’ll be making a Pocahontas of her if you keep on +that ‘noble Injun’ strain,” he remarked.</p> +<p>“Far be it from me! Pocahontas was a gay little +hanger-on of the camps,––not like this silent owl! Her +mind seems older than her years, and just notice her +care of him, will you? I reckon he’d have wandered +away and died but for her grip on him through the night.”</p> +<p>Miguel sank into sleep almost at once after eating, and +the girl waved over him an alamo branch as a fan with +one hand, and ate with the other, while Rhodes looked +over the scant commissary outfit, reckoning mouths to +feed and distance to supplies. The moon was at full, +and night travel would save the stock considerably. By +the following noon they could reach ranches either west +or north. He was conscious of the eyes of the girl ever +on his face in mute question, and while Pike bathed the +backs of the animals, and led each to stand in the oozy +drainage of the meager well, she came close to Kit and +spoke.</p> +<p>“You say it is a dream, señor, and you laugh, but the +red gold of El Alisal is no dream. He, my father has said +it, and after that, I, Tula, may show it to you. Even my +mother does not know, but I know. I am of the blood to +know. You will take him there, for it is a medicine place, +much medicine! He has said it to you, señor, and that +gift is great. You will come, alone,––with us, señor?”</p> +<p>Kit smiled at her entreaty, patted her hair, and dug +out a worn deck of cards and shuffled them, slowly regarding +the sleeping Indian the while.</p> +<p>“What’s on your mind?” demanded Cap Pike, returning +with his white locks dripping from a skimpy bath. +“Our grub stake is about gone, and you’ve doubled the +outfit. What’s the next move?”</p> +<p>“I’m playing a game in futures with Miguel,” stated +Kit, shuffling the cards industriously.</p> +<p>“Sounds loco to me, Bub,” observed the veteran. +“Present indications are not encouraging as to futures +there. Can’t you see that he’s got a jar from which his +mind isn’t likely to recover? Not crazy, you know, not +a lunatic or dangerous, but just jarred from Pima man +back to Yaqui child. That’s about the way I reckon it.”</p> +<p>“You reckon right, and it’s the Yaqui child mind I’m +throwing the cards for. Best two out of three wins.”</p> +<p>“What the–––”</p> +<p>“Highest cards for K. Rhodes, and I hike across the +border with our outfit; highest cards for Miguel and my +trail is blazed for the red gold of Alisal. This is Miguel’s +hand––ace high for Miguel!”</p> +<p>Again he shuffled and cut.</p> +<p>“A saucy queen, and red at that! Oh, you charmer!”</p> +<p>“You got to hustle to beat that, Bub. Go on, don’t +be stingy.”</p> +<p>Rhodes cut the third time, then stared and whistled.</p> +<p>“The cards are stacked by the Indian! All three covered +with war paint. What’s the use in a poor stray +white bucking against that?”</p> +<p>He picked out the cards and placed them side by side, +ace, king and queen of hearts.</p> +<p>“Three aces could beat them,” suggested Pike. “Go +on Bub, shuffle them up, don’t be a piker.”</p> +<p>Rhodes did, and cut ten of clubs.</p> +<p>“Not even the right color,” he lamented. “Nothing +less than two aces for salvation, and I––don’t––get––them!”</p> +<p>A lonely deuce fell on the sand, and Rhodes eyed it +sulkily as he rolled a cigarette.</p> +<p>“You poor little runt,” he apostrophized the harmless +two-spot. “You’ve kicked me out of the frying pan into +the fire, and a good likely blaze at that!”</p> +<p>“Don’t reckon I care to go any deeper into trouble +than what we’ve found,” decided Pike. “Ordinary Indian +scraps are all in the day’s work––same with +a Mexican outfit––but, Bub, this slave-hunting graft +game with the state soldiery doing the raiding is too +strong a combine for two lone rangers to buck against. +Me for the old U. S. border, and get some of this devilish +word to the peace advocates at home.”</p> +<p>“They wouldn’t believe you, and only about two papers +along the border would dare print it,” observed Rhodes. +“Every time a band of sunny Mexicans loot a ranch or +steal women, the word goes north that again the bloodthirsty +Yaquis are on the warpath! Those poor devils +never leave their fields of their own will, and don’t know +why the Americans have a holy dread of them. Yet the +Yaqui is the best worker south of the line.”</p> +<p>“If he wasn’t the price wouldn’t be worth the slave +trader’s valuable time,” commented Pike.</p> +<p>The Indian girl made a quick gesture of warning, just +a sweep outward of her hand along the ground. She +didn’t even look at them, but down the arroya, the trail +they had come.</p> +<p>“<i>Caballos, hombres!</i>” she muttered in her throat.</p> +<p>“The kid’s right,––hear them!” said Rhodes, and then +he looked at him, and made a strange movement of eyes +and head to direct the attention back of her in the +thicket of cactus and squat greasewood. He did not look +at once, but finally with a circular sweep of the locality, +he saw the light glint on a gun barrel along the edge of +a little mesa above them.</p> +<p>“Nice friendly attention,” he observed. “Someone +sizing us up. Time to hit the trail anyway, Cap;––to get +through on the grub we have to travel tonight.”</p> +<p>He rose and handed the water bottles to the girl to +fill, while he tightened cinches.</p> +<p>“It’s a long day’s trip, Cap,” he stated thoughtfully, +“a long day out to Carrizal, and a long one back to Mesa +Blanca. I’ll divide the dust and the grub fifty-fifty, and +you get out to some base of supplies. I’d rather you’d +take Pardner, and keep on going across the line. The +trail is clear from here for you, and enough water holes +and settlements for you to get through. I don’t think +Pardner would last for the back trip, but you can save him +by riding at night; the burro and mule are best for us. +Here’s the dust.”</p> +<p>While Pike had been talking of crossing the border, +Kit had been rapidly readjusting the provision so that +the old chap had enough to carry him to the first settlement, +and the gold dust would more than pay for provision +the rest of the way.</p> +<p>“Why––say, Bub!” remonstrated Pike. “You’re so +sudden! I don’t allow to leave you by your lonesomes +like this. Why, I had planned–––”</p> +<p>“There’s nothing else to do,” decided Rhodes crisply. +“If you don’t beat it with Pardner, we’ll lose him, sure! +I’m going to take these Indians back, and you can help +most by waiting north of the line till you hear from me. +I’ll get word to you at Granados. So, if there should be +any trouble with these visitors of ours, your trail is +clear;––savvy?”</p> +<p>Two men rode into view in the bend of the arroya. A +cartridge belt across each shoulder, and one around each +waist, was the most important part of their equipment.</p> +<p>“<i>Buenos dias</i>, señors,” said one politely, while his little +black eyes roved quickly over the group. “Is there +still water to be found in the well here? <i>Dios!</i> it is the +heat of hell down there in the valley.”</p> +<p>“At your service, señor, is water fresh drawn,” said +Rhodes, and turned to the girl, “Oija, Tulita!––water +for the gentlemen. You ride far, señor?”</p> +<p>“From Soledad wells.”</p> +<p>“Yes, I know the brand,” remarked Rhodes.</p> +<p>“This is a good season in which to avoid too much +knowledge, or too good a memory, señor,” observed the +man who had not spoken. “Many herds will change hands +without markets before tranquility is over in Mexico.”</p> +<p>“I believe you, señor, and we who have nothing will +be the lucky ones,” agreed Rhodes, regarding the man +with a new interest. He was not handsome, but there +was a something quick and untamed in his keen, black +eyes, and though the mouth had cruel hard lines, his tone +was certainly friendly, yet dominating.</p> +<p>“What have you here?” he asked with a gesture toward +Miguel.</p> +<p>“My Indian who tried to save his women from slavers, +and was left for dead,” stated Rhodes frankly.</p> +<p>“And this?”</p> +<p>He pointed to the girl filling again the water bottles.</p> +<p>“She is mine, señor. We go to our own homes.”</p> +<p>“Hum! you should be enlisted in the fights and become +capitan, but these would drop by the trail if you left +them. Well, another time perhaps, señor! For the +water many thanks. <i>Adios!</i>” and with wave of the hand +they clattered down the arroya.</p> +<p>“Queer,” muttered Rhodes, “did you catch that second +chap signal to the gun man in the cactus? He craw-fished +back over the mesa and faded away.”</p> +<p>“They didn’t come for water alone––some scouten’ +party trailin’ every sign found,” decided Pike. “I’ll +bet they had us circled before the two showed themselves. +Wonder who they are after?”</p> +<p>“Anyway they didn’t think us worth while gathering +in, which is a comfort. That second fellow looks like +someone I’ve crossed trails with, but I can’t place him.”</p> +<p>“They’ll place you all right, all right!” prophesied +Pike darkly, “you and your interesting family won’t +need a brand.”</p> +<p>Rhodes stared at him a moment and then grinned.</p> +<p>“Right you are, Cap. Wouldn’t it be pie for the gossips +to slice up for home consumption?”</p> +<p>He kept on grinning as he looked at the poor bit +of human flotsam whom he had dubbed “the owl” because +of her silence and her eyes. She aroused Miguel +without words, watching him keenly for faintest sign of +recovery. The food and sleep had refreshed him in body, +but the mind was far away. To the girl he gave no +notice, and after a long bewildered stare at Rhodes he +smiled in a deprecating way.</p> +<p>“Your pardon, Don José, that I outsleep the camp,” +he muttered haltingly. “It is a much sickness of the +head to me.”</p> +<p>“For that reason must you ride slowly today,” stated +Rhodes with quick comprehension of the groping mind, +though the “Don José” puzzled him, and at first chance +he loitered behind with the girl and questioned her.</p> +<p>“How makes itself that I must know all the people +in the world before I was here on earth?” she asked +morosely? “Me he does not know, Don José is of Soledad +and is of your tallness, so–––”</p> +<p>“Know you the man who came for water at the cañon +well?” he asked, and she looked at him quickly and +away.</p> +<p>“The name of the man was not spoke by him, also he +said a true word of brands on herds––these days.”</p> +<p>“In these days?” reflected Rhodes, amazed at the ungirlish +logic. “You know what he meant when he +said that?”</p> +<p>“We try that we know––all we, for the Deliverer is +he named, and by that name only he is spoke in the +prayers we make.”</p> +<p>Rhodes stared at her, incredulous, yet wondering if the +dusty vaquero looking rider of brief words could be +the man who was called outlaw, heathen, and bandit by +Calendria, and “Deliverer” by these people of bondage.</p> +<p>“You think that is true;––he will be the deliverer?”</p> +<p>“I not so much think, I am only remembering what the +fathers say and the mothers. Their word is that he will +be the man, if––if–––”</p> +<p>“Well, if what?” he asked as she crossed herself, and +dropped her head.</p> +<p>“I am not wanting to say that thing. It is a scare on +the heart when it is said.”</p> +<p>“I’d rather be prepared for the scare if it strikes me,” +he announced, and after a thoughtful silence while she +padded along beside him, she lowered her voice as though +to hide her words from the evil fates.</p> +<p>“Then will I tell it you:––a knife in the back is what +they fear for him, or poison in his cup. He is hated +by strong haters, also he makes them know fear. I hearing +all that in the patio at Palomitas, and old Tio Polonio +is often saying all saviors are crucified. How you +think?”</p> +<p>Rhodes replied vaguely as to the wisdom of Tio +Polonio, for the girl was giving him the point of view +of the peon, longing for freedom, yet fatalistic as the +desert born ever are. And she had known the rebel +leader, Ramon Rotil, all the time!</p> +<p>He had no doubt but that she was right. Her statement +explained the familiar appearance of the man he +had not met before, though he had seen pictures in newspapers +or magazines. Then he fell to wondering what +Ramon Rotil was doing in a territory so far from the +troops, and–––</p> +<p>“Don José is one of the strong men who are hating +him much,” confided the child. “Also Don José comes +not north alone ever anymore, always the soldiers are +his guard. Tio Polonio tells things of these soldiers.”</p> +<p>“What kind of things?”</p> +<p>“They are killing boys like rabbits in Canannea,––pacifico +boys who could grow to Calendrista soldiers. +Such is done by the guard of Don José and all the friends +of the Deliverer are killed with a quickness. That is how +the men of Don José Perez please him most, and in the +south there are great generals who work also with him, +and his hand is made strong, also heavy, and that is what +Tio Polonio is telling us often.”</p> +<p>When they reached the mouth of the little cañon of +the Yaqui well where the trails divide, Pike shook hands +and climbed into the saddle of Pardner.</p> +<p>“It’s the first time I ever took the easy way out, and +left the fight alone to a chum,––but I’ll do it, Bub, because +you could not make a quick get-away with me +tagging along. Things look murkier in this territory +every minute. You’ll either have the time of your life, or +a headstone early in the game. Billie and I will put it up +though we won’t know where you’re planted. I don’t +like it, but the minutes and water for the trail are both +precious. Come out quick as you can. So long!”</p> +<p>Pardner, refreshed by cooling drink and an hour’s +standing in wet mud of the well drainage, stepped off +briskly toward the north, while Rhodes lifted Tula to +the back of the pack mule, and Miguel unheeding all +plans or changes, drooped with closed eyes on the back +of the little burro. The manager of the reorganized gold-search +syndicate strode along in the blinding glare of the +high sun, herding them ahead of him, and as Pike turned +for a last look backward at a bend of the trail, the words +of the old darkey chant came to him on the desert air:</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'><i>Oh, there was a frog lived in the spring!</i></p> +</td></tr></table> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='CHAPTER_X_A_MEXICAN_EAGLET' id='CHAPTER_X_A_MEXICAN_EAGLET'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> +<h3>A MEXICAN EAGLET</h3> +</div> +<p>The silver wheel of the moon was rolling into the +west when the Indian girl urged the mule forward, +and caught the bridle of the burro.</p> +<p>“What is it, Tula?” asked Rhodes, “we are doing +well on the trail to Mesa Blanca; why stop here?”</p> +<p>“Look,” she said. “See you anything? Know you +this place in the road?”</p> +<p>He looked over the sand dunes and scrubby desert +growths stretching far and misty under the moon, and, +then to the rugged gray range of the mountain spur rising +to the south. They were skirting the very edge of it +where it rose abruptly from the plain; a very great gray +upthrust of granite wall beside them was like a gray +blade slanted out of the plain. He had noticed it as one +of the landmarks on the road to Mesa Blanca, and on its +face were a few curious scratchings or peckings, one a +rude sun symbol, and others of stars and waves of water. +He recalled remarking to Pike that it must have been +a prayer place for some of the old tribes.</p> +<p>“Yes, I know the place, when we reach this big rock +it means that we are nearing the border of the ranch, this +rock wall tells me that. We can be at Palomitas before +noon.”</p> +<p>“No,” she said, and got down from the mule, “not to +Palomitas now. Here we carry the food, and here +we hide the saddles, and the mule go free. The burro +we take, nothing else.”</p> +<p>“Where is a place to hide saddles here?” and he made +gesture toward the great granite plane glistening in the +moonlight.</p> +<p>“A place is found,” she returned, “it is better we ride +off the trail at this place.”</p> +<p>She did so, circling back the way they had come until +they were opposite a more broken part of the mountain +side, then she began deftly to help unsaddle.</p> +<p>“Break no brush and make all tracks like an Apache +on the trail,” she said.</p> +<p>Miguel sat silent on the burro as if asleep. He had +never once roused to give heed to the words or the +trail through the long ride. At times where the way was +rough he would mutter thanks at the help of Kit and sink +again into stupor.</p> +<p>“I can’t spare that mule,” protested Kit, but she nodded +her head as if that had been all thought out.</p> +<p>“He will maybe not go far, there is grass and a very +little spring below. Come now, I show you that hidden +trail.”</p> +<p>She picked up one of the packs and led the burro.</p> +<p>“But we can’t pack all this at once,” decided Kit, who +was beginning to feel like the working partner in a +nightmare.</p> +<p>“Two times,” said Tula, holding up her fingers, “I +show you.”</p> +<p>She led the way, nervous, silent and in haste, as though +in fear of unseen enemies. Rhodes looked after her +irritably. He was fagged and worn out by one of the +hardest trails he had ever covered, and was in no condition +to solve the curious problems of the Indian mind, +but the girl had proven a good soldier of the desert, and +was, for the first time, betraying anxiety, so as the burro +disappeared in the blue mist, and only the faint patter +of his hoofs told the way he had gone, Kit picked up the +saddle and followed.</p> +<p>The way was rough and there was no trail, simply +stumbling between great jagged slabs hewn and tossed +recklessly by some convulsion of nature. Occasionally +dwarfed and stunted brush, odorous with the faint dew +of night, reached out and touched his face as he followed +up and up with ever the forbidding lances of granite +sharp edged against the sky. From the plain below there +was not even an indication that progress would be possible +for any human being over the range of shattered +rock, and he was surprised to turn a corner and find Tula +helping Miguel from the saddle in a little nook where +scant herbage grew.</p> +<p>“No, not in this place we camp,” she said. “It is good +only to hide saddles and rest for my father. Dawn is on +the trail, and the other packs must come.”</p> +<p>He would have remonstrated about a return trip, but +she held up her hand.</p> +<p>“It must be, if you would live,” she said. “The eyes +of you have not yet seen what they are to see, it is not to +be told. All hiding must be with care, or–––”</p> +<p>She made swift pantomime of sighting along a gun +barrel at him, and even in the shadows he could fancy the +deadly half closing of her ungirlish eyes. Tula did not +play gaily.</p> +<p>Tired as he was, Kit grinned.</p> +<p>“You win,” he said. “Let’s hit what would be the +breeze if this fried land could stir one up.”</p> +<p>They plodded back without further converse, secured +the packs, and this time it was Rhodes who led, as there +appeared no possible way but the one they had covered. +Only once did he make a wrong turn and a sharp “s-st” +from the girl warned him of the mistake.</p> +<p>They found Miguel asleep, and Kit Rhodes would willingly +have sunk down beside him and achingly striven for +the same forgetfulness, but Tula relentlessly shook Miguel +awake, got him on the burro, unerringly designated the +food bag in the dark, and started again in the lead.</p> +<p>“I reckon you’re some sort of Indian devil,” decided +Kit, shouldering the bag. “No mere mortal ever made +this trail or kept it open.”</p> +<p>Several times the towering walls suggested the bottom +of a well, and as another and another loomed up ahead, +he gloomily prophesied an ultimate wall, and the need of +wings.</p> +<p>Then, just as the first faint light began in the eastern +heavens, he was aware that the uneven trail was going +down and down, zig-zagging into a ravine like a great +gray bowl, and the bottom of it filled with shadows of +night.</p> +<p>The girl was staggering now with exhaustion though +she would not confess it. Once she fell, and he lifted her +thinking she was hurt, but she clung to him, shaking from +weakness, but whispering, “<i>Pronto, pronto!</i>”</p> +<p>“Sure!” he agreed, “all the swiftness the outfit can +muster.”</p> +<p>Curious odors came to him from the shadowy bowl, not +exactly a pleasing fragrance, yet he knew it––But his +mind refused to work. As the trail grew wider, and +earth was under his feet instead of rock slivers and +round boulders, he discovered that he was leading the +burro, the grub sack over his shoulder, and with the other +arm was supporting the girl, who was evidently walking +with closed eyes, able to progress but not to guide herself.</p> +<p>Then there was the swish-swish of grasses about their +feet and poor Bunting snatched mouthfuls as all three +staggered downward. The light began to grow, and +somewhere in the shadowy bowl there was the most blest +sound known in the desert, the gurgle of running water!</p> +<p>“We hear it––but we can’t believe it––old Buntin’,” +muttered Kit holding the burro from steady and stubborn +attempts to break away, “and you are just loco +enough to think you smell it.”</p> +<p>Then suddenly their feet struck rock again, not jagged +or slippery fragments, but solid paving, and a whiff of +faint mist drifted across his face in the gray of the first +dawn, and the burro craned his neck forward at the +very edge of a black rock basin where warm vapor struck +the nostrils like a soporific.</p> +<p>The girl roused herself at a wordless exclamation from +Rhodes, and began automatically helping Miguel from +the saddle, and stripping him to the breechcloth.</p> +<p>Kit’s amazement startled him out of his lethargy of +exhaustion. It was light enough now to see that her +eyes were bloodshot, and her movements quick with a +final desperation.</p> +<p>“There!” she said and motioned towards a shelving +place in the rock, “there––medicine––all quick!”</p> +<p>She half lifted the staggering, unconscious Indian, and +Kit, perceiving her intention, helped her with Miguel to +the shallow edge of the basin where she rolled him over +until he was submerged to the shoulder in the shallow +bath, cupping her hands she scooped water and drenched +his face.</p> +<p>“Why,––it’s warm!” muttered Kit.</p> +<p>“Medicine,” said Tula, and staggered away.</p> +<p>How Rhodes shed his own garments and slipped into +the basin beside Miguel he never knew, only he knew he +had found an early substitute for heaven. It was warm +sulphur water,––tonic, refreshing and infinitely soothing +to every sore muscle and every frazzled nerve. He ducked +his head in it, tossed some more over the head and shoulders +of the sleeping Indian, and then, submerged to his +arms, he promptly drifted into slumber himself.</p> +<p>He wakened to the sound of Baby Bunting pawing +around the grub pack. Hunger was his next conviction, +for the heavenly rest in the medicine bath had taken every +vestige of weariness away. He felt lethargic from the +sulphur fumes, and more sleep was an enticing thought, +yet he put it from him and got into his clothes after the +use of a handkerchief as a bath towel. Miguel still slept +and Kit bent over him in some concern, for the sleep appeared +curiously deep and still, the breath coming lightly, +yet he did not waken when lifted out of the water and +covered with a poncho in the shade of a great yucca.</p> +<p>“I reckon it’s some dope in these hot springs,” decided +Kit. “I feel top heavy myself, and won’t trouble him +till I’ve rustled some grub and have something to offer. +Well, Buntin’, we are all here but the daughter of the +Glen,” he said, rescuing the grub sack, “and if she was +a dream and you inveigled me here by your own diabolical +powers, I’ve a hunch this is our graveyard; we’ll +never see the world and its vanities again!”</p> +<p>A bit of the blue and scarlet on a bush above caught +his eye. It was the belt of Tula, and he went upwards +vaguely disturbed that he had drifted into ease without +question of her welfare.</p> +<p>He found her emerging from a smaller rock basin, her +one garment dripping a wet trail as she came towards +him. There was no smile in her greeting, but a look of +content, of achievement.</p> +<p>“My father,” she said, “he is–––”</p> +<p>“Sleeping beyond belief! good medicine sleep, I hope.”</p> +<p>She nodded her head comprehendingly, for she had +done the impossible and had triumphed. She looked at +the sack of food he held.</p> +<p>“There is one place for fire, and other water is there. +Come, it is to you.”</p> +<p>She struck off across the sun-bathed little grass plot +to a jumble of rock where a cool spring emerged, ran only +a few rods, and sank again out of sight. The shattered +rock was as a sponge, so completely was the water sucked +downward again. Marks of burro’s hoofs were there.</p> +<p>“Baby Buntin’ been prospecting while we wallowed in +the dope bath,” said Kit.</p> +<p>“Maybe so, maybe not,” uttered the Indian child, if +such she could be called after the super-woman initiative +of that forbidding trail. She was down on her knees +peering at the tracks in the one little wet spot below +the spring.</p> +<p>“Two,” she said enigmatically. “That is good, much +good. It will be meat.”</p> +<p>Then she saw him pulling dry grasses and breaking +branches of scrub growth for a fire, and she stood up +and motioned him to follow. They were in a narrow, +deep ravine separated from the main one by the miniature +plain of lush grass, a green cradle of rest in the heart of +the gray hills. She went as directly upward as the broken +rock would permit, and suddenly he followed her into a +blackened cave formed by a great granite slab thrusting itself +upwards and enduring through the ages when the +broken rock had shattered down to form an opposite wall. +And the cloud bursts of the desert had swept through, and +washed the sands clear, leaving a high black roof slanting +upwards to the summit.</p> +<p>Tula moved ahead into the far shadows. He could see +that beyond her somewhere a ray of light filtered blue, but +he halted at the entrance, puzzled at the black roof where +all the rock of the mountain was gray and white except +where mineral streaks were of reds and russets and +moldy greens. Then he put his hand up and touched +the roof and understood. Soot from ancient fires was +discernible on his hand, flakes of it fell to the floor, dry +and black, scaling off under pressure. The scales were +thick and very old, like blackened moss. He had seen +blackened rock like that in other volcanic regions, but +this was different.</p> +<p>“It is here,” said Tula, and he followed the voice +through a darker shadowed bit of the way, then through +the ray of light, and then–––</p> +<p>The first thing he saw was the raised hearth of a rather +pretentious fireplace, or place of fire, for it resembled not +at all the tiny little cooking hearth of desert Indians. A +stone hatchet lay beside it, and, what was much more +surprising, two iron instruments of white man’s manufacturing, +a wedge and a long chisel.</p> +<p>He picked up the chisel, weighed it in his hand, and +looked at the girl. He was now becoming accustomed +to the dim light and could see her eyes following his +every movement with curious questioning. There was a +tiny frowning wrinkle between her brows as if serious +matters were being decided there.</p> +<p>“It is here,” she said again. “Maybe someone dies +when a white friend is shown the way––maybe I die, +who knows?––but it is here––El Alisal of the gold of +the rose!”</p> +<p>She made a little gesture and moved aside, and the +chisel fell to the stone floor with a clang as Kit shouted +and dropped on his knees before an incredible thing in +the gray wall.</p> +<p>That upthrust of the rock wall had strange variety of +color, and between the granite and the gray limestone +there was a ragged rusty band of iron as a note of contrast +to the sprinkling of glittering quartz catching the +ray of light, but the quartz was sprinkled on a six inch +band of yellow––not the usual quartz formation with +dots of color, but a deep definite yellow held together by +white crystals.</p> +<p>“The red gold! it’s the red gold!” he said feeling the +yellow surface instinctively.</p> +<p>“Yes, señor, it is the red gold of El Alisal, and it is to +you,” but her eyes were watching him hungrily as she +spoke. And something of that pathetic fear penetrated +his amazed mind, and he remembered.</p> +<p>“No, Tula, only my share to me. I do the work, but +the great share is to you, that it may buy back your +mother from the slavers of the south.”</p> +<p>“Also my sister,” said the girl, and for the first time +she wept.</p> +<p>“Come, come! This is the time for joy. The danger +is gone, and we are at rest beside this––why, it’s a dream +come true, the golden dream! Come, help me cook that +we may be strong for the work.”</p> +<p>She helped silently, fetching water and more sticks for +the fire.</p> +<p>There were many things to ask, but he asked no questions, +only gazed between bites and sups at the amazing +facts facing him.</p> +<p>“I’ve seen ores and ores in my time, but nothing like +this!” he exulted. “Why, I can ‘high grade’ mule loads +of this and take it out without smelting,” and then he +grinned at his little partner. “We just struck it in time,––meat +is mighty near done.”</p> +<p>“Plenty meat!” she said nodding her head wisely. +“Burro, big burro, wild burro! I see track.”</p> +<p>“Wild burro? Sure, that makes it simple till we rest +up. You are one great little commissary sergeant.”</p> +<p>He noted that the pitch of the roof towards the face +of the mountain carried the smoke in a sort of funnel +to be sifted through high unseen crannies of shattered +rock above. All was dark in the end of the gallery, but a +perceptible draught from the portal bore the smoke upward.</p> +<p>“It’s too good to be true,” he decided, looking it over. +“I’m chewing bacon and it tastes natural, but I’m betting +with myself that this is a dream, and I’ll wake up in the +dope pond with my mouth full of sulphur water.”</p> +<p>The girl watched him gravely, and ate sparingly, +though parched corn had been her only sustenance +through the trail of the dreadful night. Her poor sandals +were almost cut from her feet, and even while jesting +at the unreality of it all, Kit was making mental note of +her needs––the wild burro would at least provide green +hide sandals for her until better could be found, and she +had earned the best.</p> +<p>He was amazed at her keenness. She did not seem to +think, but instinctively to feel her way to required knowledge, +caring for herself in the desert as a fledgling bird +tossed by some storm from the home nest. He remembered +there were wild burros in the Sonora hills, but +that she should have already located one on this most +barren of mountains was but another unbelievable touch +to the trail of enchantment, and after a century of lost +lives and treasure in the search for the Indian mine, to +think that this Indian stray, picked up on a desolate trail, +should have been the one to know that secret and lead +him to it!</p> +<p>“Other times you have been here?” he asked as he +poured coffee in a tin for Miguel, and dug out the last +box of crackers from the grub pack.</p> +<p>“Once I come, one time, and it was to make prayer +here. It is mine to know, but not my mother, not other +peoples, only the father of me and me. If I die then he +show the trail to other one, not if I live. That is how.”</p> +<p>“He surely picked the right member of his honorable +family,” decided Kit. “Only once over the trail, once?”</p> +<p>“I knowing it long before I see it,” she explained +gravely. “The father of me make that trail in the sand +for my eyes when I am only little. I make the same for +him in a game to play. When I make every turn right, +and name the place, and never forget––then he bring me, +for it is mine to know.”</p> +<p>“Sufferin’ cats!” muttered Rhodes, eyeing her in wonder. +“The next time I see an Indian kid playing in the +sand, I’ll linger on the trail and absorb wisdom!”</p> +<p>“Come,” she said, “you not seeing the one enchant +look, the––how you say?––the not believe look.”</p> +<p>“Well, take it from me, Cinderella, I’m seeing not believe +things this very now,” announced Kit, giving a fond +look towards that comforting gleam of yellow metal bedding +flecks of quartz. “I see it, but will have to sleep, +and wake up to find it in the same place before I can believe +what I think I see.”</p> +<p>With the food and drink for Miguel in his hands he +had followed the girl through the shadowed gallery of +the slanting smoke-stained roof. His eyes were mainly +directed to the rock floor lest he stumble and spill the +precious coffee; thus he gave slight thought to the little +ravine up which she had led him to the cave which was +also a mine.</p> +<p>But as he stepped out into the sunlight she stood looking +up into his face with almost a smile, the first he had +seen in her wistful tragic eyes. Then she lifted her +hand and pointed straight out, and the “enchant look,” +the “not believe” look was there! He stared as at a +mirage for an incredulous moment, and then whispered, +“Great God of the Desert!”</p> +<p>For a little space, a few rods only, the mountain dipped +steeply, and trickling water from above fell in little cascades +to lower levels, where a great jagged wall of impregnable +granite arose as a barrier along the foot of +the mountain.</p> +<p>But he was above the sharp outline of the huge saw +with the jagged granite teeth, and between the serrated +edges he could look far across the yellow-gray reaches +of sand and desert growths. Far and wide was the “not +believe” look, to the blue phantom-like peaks on the +horizon, but between the two ranges was a white line +with curious dots drifting and whirling like flies along it, +and smoke curling up, and–––</p> +<p>Then it was he uttered the incredulous cry, for he was +indeed viewing the thing scarce to be believed.</p> +<p>He was looking across the great Rancho Soledad, and +the white line against the sand was the wall of the old +mission where the vaqueros were herding a band of +horses into the great quadrangle of the one-time patio +turned into a corral since the buildings on three sides had +melted down again into mother earth.</p> +<p>He remembered riding around these lines of the old +arches seeking trace of that door of the legend,––the door +from which the aliso tree of the mine could be seen,––and +there was nowhere a trace of a door.</p> +<p>“Queer that every other part of the prospect developed +according to specifications and not the door,” he grumbled +whimsically. “Cinderella, why have you hid the door +in the wall from me?”</p> +<p>She looked around uncertainly, not understanding.</p> +<p>“No portal but it,” she said with a movement of her +head towards the great slab forming a pointed arch against +the mountain and shielding the unbelievable richness +there, “also El Alisal, the great tree, is gone. This was +the place of it; the old ones tell my father it was as chief +of the trees and stand high to be seen. The sky fire took +it, and took the padres that time they make an altar in +this place.”</p> +<p>“Um,” assented Kit, noting traces of ancient charcoal +where the aliso tree had grown great in the moisture of +the spring before lightning had decided its tragic finish, +“a great storm it must have been to send sky fire enough +to kill them all.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Tula quietly,––“also there was already +another shrine at this place, and the gods near.”</p> +<p>He glanced at her quickly and away.</p> +<p>“Sure,” he agreed, “sure, that’s how it must have been. +They destroyed the aliso and there was no other landmark +to steer by. White men might find a thousand other +dimples in the range but never this one, the saw-tooth +range below us has the best of them buffaloed. Come +along, Señorita Aladdin, and help me with the guardian +of the treasure. We’ve got to look after Miguel, and +then start in where the padres left off. And you might +do a prayer stunt or two at the shrine you mentioned. +We need all the good medicine help you can evoke.”</p> +<p>As they approached the pool where the faintest mist +drifted above the water warm from hidden fires of the +mountain, Kit halted before he quite reached the still form +beside the yucca, and, handing the food and drink to the +girl, he went forward alone.</p> +<p>He was puzzled afterward as to why he had done that, +for no fold of the garment was disturbed, nothing visible +to occasion doubt, yet he bent over and lifted the cover +very gently. The face of Miguel was strangely gray and +there was no longer sign of breath. The medicine of +the sacred pool had given him rest, but not life.</p> +<p>He replaced the blanket and turned to the girl;––the +last of the guardians of the shrine of the red gold.</p> +<p>“Little sister,” he said, “Miguel grew tired of the +trails of a hard land. He has made his choice to go +asleep here in the place where you tell me the gods are +near. He does not want us to have sad hearts, for he was +very sad and very tired, and he will not need food, Tula.”</p> +<p>Her eyes filled with tears, but she made no reply, only +unbound her hair as she had seen mourning women do, +and seated herself apart, her face hidden in her arms.</p> +<p>“No one is left to mourn but me, and I mourn!” she +half chanted. “I say it for the mother of me, and for +my sister, that the ghosts may listen. Happily he is going +now from hard trails! He has chosen at this place! +Happily he has chosen, and only we are sad. No debt +is ours to pay at this place; he has chosen––and a life is +paid at El Alisal! Happily he will find the trail of the +birds from this place, and the trail of the clouds over the +high mountain. No one is left to mourn but me; and I +mourn!”</p> +<p>Rhodes understood no word of her lamentations, +chanted now loudly, now lowly, at intervals hour after +hour that day. He set grimly to work digging a grave +in the lower part of the ravine, gathering dry grass for +lining as best he could to make clear to the girl that no +lack of care or honor was shown the last man of Cajame’s +stock.</p> +<p>The work took most of the day, for he carried stone +and built a wall around the grave and covered it with +slatelike slabs gathered from a shattered upheaval of +long ago.</p> +<p>Tula watched all this gravely, and with approval, for +she drew with her finger the mark of the sun symbol on +one of the slabs.</p> +<p>“It is well to make that mark,” she said, “for the sons +of Cajame were priests of the sun. The sign is on the +great rock of the trail, and it is theirs.”</p> +<p>With the chisel he carved the symbol as she suggested, +glad to do anything for the one mourner for the dead man +who had offered the treasure of the desert to him.</p> +<p>“That is how he made choice,” she said when it was +marked plainly. “Me, I think he was leading us on the +night trail to this place––I think so. He is here to guard +the gold of El Alisal for you. That is how it will be. He +has made choice.”</p> +<p>Kit got away by himself to think over the unexpected +situation. The girl climbed to a higher point, seated herself, +and continued her chant of mourning. He knew she +was following, as best she knew, the traditional formalities +of a woman for the death of a chief. He found himself +more affected by that brave fatalistic recital, now +loud and brave, now weirdly slow and tender, than if she +had given way to tempests of tears. A man could comfort +and console a weeping stray of the desert, but not a +girl who sat with unbound hair under the yucca and called +messages to the ghosts until the sun,––a flaming ball of +fire,––sank beyond the far purple hills.</p> +<p>And that was the first day of many days at the hidden +treasure place of the red gold.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='CHAPTER_XI_GLOOM_OF_BILLIE' id='CHAPTER_XI_GLOOM_OF_BILLIE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> +<h3>GLOOM OF BILLIE</h3> +</div> +<p>The return of Captain Pike on Kit’s horse was a +matter of considerable conjecture at Granados, but +the old prospector was so fagged that at first he said +little, and after listening to the things Billie had to tell +him––he said less.</p> +<p>“That explains the curious ways of the Mexicans as +I reached the border,” he decided. “They’d look first +at the horse, then at me, but asked no questions, and told +me nothing. Queer that no word reached us about Singleton! +No, it isn’t either. We never crossed trails +with any from up here. There’s so much devilment of +various sorts going on down there that a harmless chap +like Singleton wouldn’t be remembered.”</p> +<p>“Conrad’s down at Magdalena now, but we seldom +know how far he ranges. Sometimes he stays at the +lower ranch a week at a time, and he might go on to +Sinaloa for all we know. He seems always busy and is +extremely polite, but I gave him the adobe house across +the arroya after Papa Phil––went. I know he has the +Mexicans thinking Kit Rhodes came back for that murder; +half of them believe it!”</p> +<p>“Well, I reckon I can prove him an alibi if it’s needed. +I’ll go see the old judge.”</p> +<p>“He’ll tell you not to travel at night, or alone, if you +know anything,” she prophesied. “That’s what he tells +me. To think of old Rancho Granados coming to that +pass! We never did have trouble here except a little when +Apaches went on the warpath before my time, and now +the whole border is simmering and ready to boil over if +anyone struck a match to it. The judge hints that Conrad +is probably only one cog in the big border wheel, and +they are after the engineer who turns that wheel, and +do you know you haven’t told me one word of Kit +Rhodes, or whether he’s alive or dead!”</p> +<p>“Nothing to tell! We didn’t find it, and he took the +back trail with an Indian girl and her daddy, and–––”</p> +<p>“An––Indian girl?”</p> +<p>“Yes, a queer little kid who was in a lot of trouble. +Her father was wounded in one of the fracases they +have down there every little while. Nary one of us +could give an address when we took different trails, for +we didn’t know how far we’d be allowed to travel––the +warring factions are swarming and troublesome over +the line.”</p> +<p>“Well, if a girl could stand the trail, it doesn’t look +dangerous.”</p> +<p>“Looks are deceptive, child,––and this isn’t just any +old girl! It’s a rare bird, it’s tougher than whalebone +and possessed of a wise little devil. She froze to Kit as a +<i>compadre</i> at first chance. He headed back to Mesa +Blanca. I reckon they’d make it,––barring accidents.”</p> +<p>“Mesa Blanca? That’s the Whitely outfit?”</p> +<p>“Um!” assented Pike, “but I reckon Whitely’s hit the +trail by now. There’s no real profit in raising stock for +the warriors down there; each band confiscates what he +needs, and gives a promissory note on an empty treasury.”</p> +<p>“Well, the attraction must be pretty strong to hold +him down there in spite of conditions,” said Billie +gloomily.</p> +<p>“Attraction? Sure. Kit’s gone loco on that attraction,” +agreed the old prospector, and then with a reminiscent +light in his tired old eyes he added, “I reckon +there’s no other thing so likely to snare a man on a +desert trail. You see, Billie-child, it’s just as if the great +God had hid a treasure in the beginning of the world to +stay hid till the right lad ambled along the trail, and lifted +the cover, and when a fellow has youth, and health and +not a care in the world, the search alone is a great game––And +when he finds it!––why, Billie, the dictionary hasn’t +words enough to tell the story!”</p> +<p>“No––I––I reckon not,” said his listener in a small +voice, and when he looked around to speak to her again +she had disappeared, and across the patio Doña Luz +was coming towards him in no good humor.</p> +<p>“How is it that poor little one weeps now when you +are returned, and not at other times?” she demanded. +“Me, I have my troubles since that day they find the +Don Filipe shot dead,––<i>Jesusita</i> give him rest! That +child is watching the Sonora trail and waiting since that +day, but no tears until you are come. I ask you how is +the way of that?”</p> +<p>Captain Pike stared at her reflectively.</p> +<p>“You are a bringer of news, likewise a faithful warden,” +he observed. “I’m peaceably disposed, and not +wise to your lingo. Billie and me were talking as man +to man, free and confidential, and no argument. There +were no weeps that I noticed. What’s the reason why?”</p> +<p>“The saints alone know, and not me!” she returned +miserably. “I think she is scared that it was the Señor +Rhodes who shooting Don Filipe, the vaqueros thinking +that! But she tells no one, and she is unhappy. Also +there is reason. That poor little one has the ranchos, +but have you hear how the debts are so high all the +herds can never pay? That is how they are saying +now about Granados and La Partida, and at the last our +señorita will have no herds, and no ranchos, and no +people but me. <i>Madre de Dios!</i> I try to think of her +in a little adobe by the river with only <i>frijoles</i> in the +dinner pot, and I no see it that way. And I not seeing +it other way. How you think?”</p> +<p>“I don’t, it’s too new,” confessed Pike. “Who says +this?”</p> +<p>“The Señor Henderson. I hear him talk with Señor +Conrad, who has much sorrow because the Don Filipe +made bad contracts and losing the money little and +little, and then the counting comes, and it is big, very +big!”</p> +<p>“Ah! the Señor Conrad has much sorrow, has he?” +queried Pike, “and Billie is getting her face to the wall +and crying? That’s queer. Billie always unloaded her +troubles on me, and you say there was none of this +weeping till I came back?”</p> +<p>“That is so, señor.”</p> +<p>“Cause why?”</p> +<p>“<i>Quien sabe?</i> She was making a long letter to Señor +Rhodes in Sonora,––that I know. He sends no word, +so––I leave it to you, señor, it takes faith and more faith +when a man is silent, and the word of a killing is against +him.”</p> +<p>“Great Godfrey, woman! He never got a letter, he +knows nothing of a killing. How in hell––” Then the +captain checked himself as he saw the uselessness of +protesting to Doña Luz. “Where’s Billie?”</p> +<p>Billie was perched on a window seat in the <i>sala</i>, her +eyes were more than a trifle red, and she appeared deeply +engrossed in the pages of a week-old country paper.</p> +<p>“I see here that Don José Perez of Hermosillo is to +marry Doña Dolores Terain, the daughter of the general,” +she observed impersonally. “He owns Rancho +Soledad, and promises the Sonora people he will drive +the rebel Rotil into the sea, and it was but yesterday Tia +Luz was telling me of his beautiful wife, Jocasta, who +was only a little mountain girl when he rode through +her village and saw her first. She is still alive, and it +looks to me as if all men are alike!”</p> +<p>“More or less,” agreed Pike amicably, “some of us +more, some of us less. Doña Dolores probably spells +politics, but Doña Jocasta is a wildcat of the sierras, and +I can’t figure out any harmonious days for a man who +picks two like that.”</p> +<p>“He doesn’t deserve harmony; no man does who +isn’t true––isn’t true,” finished Billie rather lamely.</p> +<p>“Look here, honey child,” observed Pike, “you’ll turn +man hater if you keep on working your imagination. +Luz tells me you are cranky against Kit, and that the +ranches are tied up in business knots tighter than I had +any notion of, so you had better unload the worst you +can think of on me; that’s what I’m here for. What difference +do the Perez favorites make to our young lives? +Neither Dolores nor Jocasta will help play the cards in +our fortunes.”</p> +<p>Wherein Captain Pike was not of the prophets. The +wells of Sonora are not so many but that he who pitches +his tent near one has a view and greetings of all drifting +things of the desert, and the shadowed star of Doña +Jocasta of the south was leading her into the Soledad +wilderness forsaken of all white men but one.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='CHAPTER_XII_COVERING_THE_TRAIL' id='CHAPTER_XII_COVERING_THE_TRAIL'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> +<h3>COVERING THE TRAIL</h3> +</div> +<p>Each minute of the long days, Rhodes worked steadily +and gaily, picking out the high grade ore from +the old Indian mine, and every possible night he and the +burro and Tula made a trip out to the foot of the range, +where they buried their treasure against the happy day +when they could go out of the silent desert content for +the time with what gold they could carry in secret to the +border.</p> +<p>For two days he had watched the Soledad ranch +house rather closely through the field glass, for there +was more activity there than before; men in groups rode +in who were not herding. He wondered if it meant a +military occupation, in which case he would need to be +doubly cautious when emerging from the hidden trail.</p> +<p>The girl worked as he worked. Twice he had made +new sandals for her, and also for himself in order to +save his boots so that they might at least be wearable +when he got among people. All plans had been thought +out and discussed until no words would be needed between +them when they separated. She was to appear alone at +Palomitas with a tale of escape from the slavers, and he +was carefully crushing and mashing enough color to +partly fill a buckskin bag to show as the usual fruits of a +prospect trip from which he was returning to Mesa +Blanca after exhausting grub stake and shoe leather.</p> +<p>The things of the world had stood still for him during +that hidden time of feverish work. He scarcely dared +try to estimate the value of the ore he had dug as honey +from a hollow tree, but it was rich––rich! There were +nuggets of pure gold, assorted as to their various sizes, +while he milled and ground the quartz roughly, and +cradled it in the water of the brook.</p> +<p>By the innocent aid of Baby Bunting, two wild burros +of the sierra had been enticed within reach for slaughter, +and, aside from the food values, they furnished green +hide which under Kit’s direction, Tula deftly made into +bags for carrying the gold.</p> +<p>All activities during the day were carefully confined +within a certain radius, low enough in the little cañon +to run no risk in case any inquisitive resident of Soledad +should study the ranges with a field glass, though Kit had +not seen one aside from his own since he entered Sonora. +And he used his own very carefully every morning and +evening on the wide valley of Soledad.</p> +<p>“Something doing down there, sister,” he decided, +as they were preparing for the last trail out. “Riders +who look like cavalry, mules, and some wagons––mighty +queer!”</p> +<p>Tula came over and stood beside him expectantly. He +had learned that a look through the magic glasses was +the most coveted gift the camp could grant to her, and +it had become part of the regular routine that she stood +waiting her turn for the wide look, the “enchant look,” +as she had called it that first morning. It had become +a game to try to see more than he, and this time she mentioned +as he had, the wagons, and mules, and riders. And +then she looked long and uttered a brief Indian word +of surprise.</p> +<p>“Beat me again, have you?” queried Kit good +humoredly. “What do you find?”</p> +<p>“A woman is there, in that wagon,––sick maybe. Also +one man is a padre; see you!”</p> +<p>Kit took the glasses and saw she was right. A man +who looked like a priest was helping a woman from a +wagon, she stumbled forward and then was half carried +by two men towards the house.</p> +<p>“Not an Indian woman?” asked Kit, and again her +unchildlike mind worked quickly.</p> +<p>“A padre does not bow his head to help Indian woman. +Caballeros do not lift them up.”</p> +<p>“Well I reckon Don José Perez is home on a visit, and +brought his family. A queer time! Other ranch folks are +getting their women north over the border for safety.”</p> +<p>“Don José not bring woman to Soledad––ever. He +take them away. His men take them away.”</p> +<p>It was the first reference she had made to the slavers +since they had entered the cañon, though she knew that +each pile of nuggets was part of the redemption money +for those exiles of whom she did not speak.</p> +<p>But she worked tirelessly until Kit would stop her, or +suggest some restful task to vary the steady grind of +carrying, pounding, or washing the quartz. He had +ordered her to make two belts, that each of them might +carry some of the gold hidden under their garments. +She had a nugget tied in a corner of her <i>manta</i>, and other +small ones fastened in her girdle, while in the belt next +her body she carried all he deemed safe to weight her +with, probably five pounds. At any hint of danger she +would hide the belt and walk free.</p> +<p>His own belt would carry ten pounds without undue +bulkiness. And over three hundred pounds of high grade +gold was already safely hidden near the great rock with +the symbols of sun and rain marking its weathered +surface.</p> +<p>“A fair hundred thousand, and the vein only +scratched!” he exulted. “I was sore over losing the +job on Billie’s ranch,––but gee! this looks as if I was +knocked out in the cold world to reach my good luck!”</p> +<p>In a blue dusk of evening they left the camp behind +and started over the trail, after Tula had carefully left +fragments of food on the tomb of Miguel, placed there for +the ghosts who are drawn to a comrade.</p> +<p>Kit asked no questions concerning any of her tribal +customs, since to do so would emphasize the fact that +they were peculiar and strange to him, and the Indian +mind, wistfully alert, would sense that strangeness and +lose its unconsciousness in the presence of an alien. So, +when she went, after meals, to offer dregs of the soup +kettle or bones of the burro, she often found a bunch +of desert blossoms wilting there in the heat, and these +tributes left by Kit went far to strengthen her confidence. +It was as if Miguel was a live partner in their +activities, never forgotten by either. So they left him on +guard, and turned their faces toward the outer world +of people.</p> +<p>Knowing more than he dare tell the girl his mind was +considerably occupied with that woman at Soledad, for +military control changed over night in many a province +of Mexico in revolutionary days, and the time at the +hidden mine might have served for many changes.</p> +<p>Starlight and good luck was on the trail for them, and +at earliest streak of dawn they buried their treasure, divided +their dried burro meat, and with every precaution +to hide the trail where they emerged from the gray sierra, +they struck the road to Mesa Blanca.</p> +<p>Until full day came Tula rode the burro, and slipped +off at a ravine where she could walk hidden, on the way +to Palomitas.</p> +<p>“Buntin’,” said Kit, watching her go, “we’ll have +pardners and pardners in our time, but we’ll never find +one more of a thoroughbred than that raggedy Indian +witch-child of ours.”</p> +<p>He took the slanting cattle trail up over the mesa, +avoiding the wagon road below, and at the far edge of +it halted to look down over the wide spreading leagues of +the Mesa Blanca ranch.</p> +<p>It looked very sleepy, drowsing in the silence of the +noon sun. An old Indian limped slowly from the corral +over to the ranch house, and a child tumbled in the dust +with a puppy, but there was no other sign of ranch +activity. As he descended the mesa and drew nearer +the corrals they had a deserted look, not merely empty +but deserted.</p> +<p>The puppy barked him a welcome, but the child gave +one frightened look at Kit, and with a howl of fear, raced +to the shelter of the portal where he disappeared in the +shadows.</p> +<p>“I had a hunch, Babe, that we needed smoothing down +with a currycomb before we made social calls,” confessed +Kit to the burro, “but I didn’t reckon on scaring the +natives in any such fashion as this.”</p> +<p>He was conscious of peering eyes at a barred window, +and then the old Indian appeared.</p> +<p>“Hello, Isidro!”</p> +<p>“At your service, señor,” mumbled the old man, and +then he stared at the burro, and at the bearded and rather +desert-worn stranger, and uttered a cry of glad recognition.</p> +<p>“Ai-ji! It is El Pajarito coming again to Mesa +Blanca, but coming with dust in your mouth and no song! +Enter, señor, and take your rest in your own house. None +are left to do you honor but me,––all gone like that!” +and his skinny black hands made a gesture as if wafting +the personnel of Mesa Blanca on its way. “The General +Rotil has need the cattle, and makes a divide with +Señor Whitely and all go,––all the herds,” and he pointed +east.</p> +<p>Kit bathed his face in the cool water brought out by +Valencia, Isidro’s wife, then unloaded the burro of the +outfit, and stretched himself in the shade while the women +busied themselves preparing food.</p> +<p>“So General Rotil makes a divide of the cattle,––of +Whitely’s cattle? How is that?” he asked.</p> +<p>And the old Indian proceeded to tell him that it was +true. The Deliverer must feed his army. He needed +half, and promised Whitely to furnish a guard for the +rest of the herd and help Whitely save them by driving +them to Imuris, where the railroad is.</p> +<p>“He said enemy troops would come from the south and +take them all in one week or one month. He, Rotil, +would pay a price. Thus it was, and Señor Whitely, and +enough vaqueros, rode with the herds, and General Rotil +took the rest of the ranchmen to be his soldiers. Of +course it might be Señor Whitely would some day return, +who knows? And he left a letter for the señor of the +songs.”</p> +<p>The letter corroborated Isidro’s statements––it was +the only way to save any of the stock. Whitely thought +there was a hundred or two still ranging in the far corners, +but time was short, and he was saving what he +could. The men were joining the revolutionists and he +would be left without help anyway. If Rhodes came +back he was to use the place as his own. If he could +round up any more horses or cattle on the range and +get them to safety Isidro would find some Indians to +help him, and Whitely would divide the profits with him.</p> +<p>“Fine!––divides first with the Deliverer, and next +with me! Can’t see where that hombre gets off when it +comes to staking his own family to a living. But it’s a +bargain, and this is my headquarters until I can get out. +How long has Whitely and his new friends been gone?”</p> +<p>“Four days, señor.”</p> +<p>“Seen any stragglers of cattle left behind?”</p> +<p>Isidro’s grandson, Clodomiro, had found both horses +and cattle and herded them into far cañons; a man might +ride in a circle for five miles around the ranch house +and see never a fresh track. Clodomiro was a good boy, +and of much craft.</p> +<p>Dinner was announced for the señor, and the women +showed him welcome by placing before him the most +beautiful repast they could arrange quickly, <i>chile con +carne</i>, <i>frijoles</i>, <i>tortillas</i>, and a decanter of Sonora wine––a +feast for a king!</p> +<p>After he had eaten, tobacco was brought him from +some little hidden store, and Isidro gave him the details of +the slave raid of Palomitas, and Sonora affairs in general. +Kit was careful to state that he has been prospecting in +the mountains and out of touch with ranch people, and +it must be understood that all Isidro could tell would be +news to a miner from the desert mountains. And he +asked if General Rotil also collected stock from the ranch +of Soledad.</p> +<p>Whereupon Isidro told him many things, and among +them the wonder that Soledad had been left alone––the +saints only knew why! And Juan Gonsalvo, the foreman +at Soledad, had helped with the slave raid, and was known +in Palomitas where they took girls and women and men +as well, even men not young! Miguel, the major-domo, +was taken with his wife and two daughters, the other +men were young. The curse of God seemed striking +Sonora. A new foreman was now at Soledad, Marto +Cavayso, a hard man and,––it was said, a soldier, but +he evidently got tired of fighting and was taking his +rest by managing the horse herds of Soledad.</p> +<p>“Doesn’t look like rest to me,” observed Kit. “The +Soledad trail looks pretty well kicked into holes, with +wagons, mules, and horsemen.”</p> +<p>Isidro volunteered his opinion that work of the devil +was going forward over there.</p> +<p>“Juan Gonsalvo and El Aleman were stealing women +in Sonora, and driving them the south trail for a price,” +he stated. “But what think you would be the price for +a woman of emerald eyes and white skin carried up from +the south under chains, and a lock to the chain?”</p> +<p>“I reckon you are dreaming the lock and chain part of +it, Isidro,” returned Kit. “Only murderers travel like +that.”</p> +<p>“<i>Si</i>, it is so. There at Soledad it is heard. A killing +was done in the south and Soledad is her prison. But +she is beautiful, and the men are casting lots as to whose +she shall be when the guard is gone south again to Don +José Perez.”</p> +<p>“Ah! they are Don José’s men, are they? Then the +prisoner is guarded by his orders?”</p> +<p>“Who knows? They tell that she is a lost soul, and +fought for a knife to kill herself, and the padre makes +prayers and says hell will be hers if she does. Elena, +who is cook, heard him say that word, and Elena was +once wife to my brother, and she is telling that to Clodomiro +who makes an errand to take her deer meat, and hear +of the strangers. He saw the woman, her bracelets are +gold, and her eyes are green. The padre calls her Doña +Jocasta. I go now and give drink to that burro and +make him happy.”</p> +<p>“Jocasta, eh? Doña Jocasta!” repeated Kit in wondering +meditation. “Doesn’t seem possible––but reckon +it is, and there are no real surprises in Sonora. Anything +could, and does happen here.”</p> +<p>He remembered Pike telling the story of Jocasta one +morning by their camp fire in the desert. She was called +by courtesy Señora Perez. He had not heard her father’s +name, but he was a Spanish priest and her mother an +Indian half-breed girl––some little village in the sierras. +There were two daughters, and the younger was blond as +a child of Old Spain, Jocasta was the elder and raven +dark of hair, a skin of deep cream, and jewel-green eyes. +Kit had heard three men, including Isidro, speak of Doña +Jocasta, and each had mentioned the wonderful green +eyes––no one ever seemed to forget them!</p> +<p>Their magnetism had caught the attention of Don José,––a +distinguished and illustrious person in the eyes of the +barefoot mountaineers. No one knew what Jocasta +thought of the exalted padrone of the wide lands, whose +very spurs were of gold, but she knew there was scarce +wealth enough in all the village to keep a candle burning +on the Virgin’s shrine, and her feet had never known a +shoe. The padre died suddenly just as Don José was +making a bargain with him for the girl, so he swept +Jocasta to his saddle with no bargain whatever except +that she might send back for Lucita, her little sister, and +other men envied Perez his good luck when they looked +at Jocasta. For three years she had been mistress of his +house in Hermosillo, but never had he taken her into +the wilderness of Soledad,––it was a crude casket for so +rich a treasure.</p> +<p>Kit steeped in the luxury of a square meal, fell asleep, +thinking of the green-eyed Doña Jocasta whom no man +forgot. He would not connect a brilliant bird of the +mountain with that drooping figure he and Tula had seen +stumbling towards the portal of Soledad. And the statement +of Isidro that there had been a killing, and Doña +Jocasta was a lost soul, was most puzzling of all. In a +queer confused dream the killing was done by Tula, and +Billie wore the belt of gold, and had green eyes. And +he wakened himself with the apparently hopeless effort +of convincing Billie he had never forgotten her despite +the feminine witcheries of Sonora.</p> +<p>The shadows were growing long, and some Indian boys +were jogging across the far flats. He reached for his +field glass and saw that one of them had a deer across +his saddle. Isidro explained that the boys were planting +corn in a far field, and often brought a deer when they +came in for more seed or provisions. They had a hut +and <i>ramada</i> at the edge of the planted land six miles +away. They were good boys, Benito and Mariano Bravo, +and seldom both left the fields at the same time. He +called to Valencia that there would be deer for supper, +then watched the two riders as they approached, and +smiled as they perceptibly slowed up their broncos at +sight of the bearded stranger on the rawhide cot against +the wall.</p> +<p>“See you!” he pointed out to Kit. “These are the +days of changes. Each day we looking for another +enemy, maybe that army of the south, and the boys they +think that way too.”</p> +<p>The boys, on being hailed, came to the house with their +offering, and bunkered down in the shadow with a certain +shy stolidity, until Kit spoke, when they at once +beamed recognition, and made jokes of his beard as a +blanket.</p> +<p>But they had news to tell, great news, for a child of +Miguel had broken away from the slavers and had hidden +in the mountains, and at last had found her way back to +Palomitas. She was very tired and very poor in raiment, +and the people were weeping over her. Miguel, her +father, was dead from a wound, and was under the +ground, and of the others who went on she could tell +nothing, only that Conrad, the German friend of Don +José, was the man who covered his face and helped take +the women. Her sister Anita had recognized him, calling +out his name, and he had struck her with a quirt.</p> +<p>The women left their work to listen to this, and to +add the memories of some of their friends who had +hidden and luckily escaped.</p> +<p>“That white man should be crucified and left for the +vultures,” said the boy Benito.</p> +<p>“No,” said the soft voice of Valencia, “God was sacrificed, +but this man is a white Judas; the death of God is +too good for that man. It has been talked about. He +will be found some place,––and the Judas death will be +his. The women are making prayers.”</p> +<p>“It will soon be Easter,” said Isidro.</p> +<p>Kit did not know what was meant by a “Judas” death, +though he did know many of the church legends had been +turned by the Indians into strange and lurid caricatures. +He thought it would be interesting to see how they could +enlarge on the drama of Judas, but he made no comment, +as a direct question would turn the Indians thoughtful, +and silence them.</p> +<p>They all appeared alert for the return of Rotil. No +one believed he had retired utterly from the region without +demanding tribute from Soledad. It was generally +suspected that Perez received and held munitions for use +against the revolutionists though no one knew where they +were hidden. There were Indian tales of underground +tunnels of Soledad Mission for retreat in the old days in +case of hostile attacks, and the Soledad ranch house was +built over part of that foundation. No one at Soledad +knew the entrance except Perez himself, though it was +surmised that Juan Gonsalvo had known, and had been +the one to store the mule loads and wagon loads of +freight shipped over the border before Miguel Herrara +was caught at the work from the American side. Perez +was a careful man, and not more than one man was +trusted at one time. That man seemed marked by the +angels for accident, for something had always ended him, +and it was no good fortune to be a favorite of Don José––Doña +Jocasta was learning that!</p> +<p>Thus the gossip and surmise went on around Rhodes +for his brief hour of rest and readjustment. He encouraged +the expression of opinion from every source, +for he had the job ahead of him to get three hundred +pounds of gold across the border and through a region +where every burro was liable to examination by some of +the warring factions. It behooved him to consider every +tendency of the genus homo with which he came in contact. +Also the bonds between them,––especially the +bonds, since the various groups were much of a sameness, +and only “good” or “bad” according to their affiliations. +Simple Benito and his brother, and soft-voiced motherly +Valencia who could conceive a worse death for the German +Judas than crucifixion, were typical of the primitive +people of desert and sierra.</p> +<p>“How many head of stock think you still ranges Mesa +Blanca?” he asked Isidro, who confessed that he no +longer rode abroad or kept tally, but Clodomiro would +know, and would be in to supper. Benito and Mariano +told of one stallion and a dozen mares beyond the hills, +and a spring near their fields had been muddied the day +before by a bunch of cows and calves, they thought perhaps +twenty, and they had seen three mules with the +Mesa Blanca brand when they were getting wood.</p> +<p>“Three mules, eh? Well, I may need those mules +and the favor will be to me if you keep them in sight,” he +said addressing the boys. “I am to round up what I can +and remove them after Señor Whitely, together with +other belongings.”</p> +<p>“Others, señor?” asked Isidro.</p> +<p>Rhodes took the letter from his pocket, and perused +it as if to refresh his memory.</p> +<p>“The old Spanish chest is to go if possible, and other +things of Mrs. Whitely’s,” he said. “I will speak of these +to your wife if the plan can carry, but there is chance +of troops from the south and––who knows?––we may be +caught between the two armies and ground as meal on a +<i>metate</i>.”</p> +<p>He thus avoided all detail as to the loads the pack +animals were to carry, and the written word was a safe +mystery to the Indian. He was making no definite plans, +but was learning all possibilities with a mind prepared +to take advantage of the most promising.</p> +<p>Thus the late afternoon wore on in apparent restful +idleness after the hard trail. The boys secured their little +allowance of beans and salt, and corn for planting, but +lingered after the good supper of Valencia, a holiday +feast compared with their own sketchy culinary performance +in the <i>jacal</i> of the far fields. They scanned the +trail towards Palomitas, and then the way down the far +western valley, evidently loath to leave until their friend +Clodomiro should arrive, and Isidro expected him before +sunset.</p> +<p>But he came later from towards Soledad, a tall lad with +fluttering ribbands of pink and green from his banda and +his elbows, and a girdle of yellow fluttering fringed ends +to the breeze,––all the frank insignia of a youth in the +market for marriage. He suggested a gay graceful bird +as he rode rapidly in the long lope of the range. His +boy friends of the planted fields went out to meet him +at the corral, and look after his horse while he went in +to supper. He halted to greet them, and then walked +soberly across the plaza where pepper trees and great +white alisos trailed dusk shadows in the early starlight.</p> +<p>“What <i>reata</i> held you?” asked Isidro. “Has Soledad +grown a place for comradeship?”</p> +<p>“No, señor,” said the lad passing into the dining room +where two candles gave him light in the old adobe room, +“it is comradeship we do not need, but it is coming to +us.”</p> +<p>He seated himself on the wooden bench and his grandmother +helped him from a smoking plate of venison. He +looked tired and troubled, and he had not even taken note +that a stranger was beside Isidro in the shadows.</p> +<p>“What nettle stings you, boy?” asked his grandfather +sarcastically, and at that he looked up and rose to his +feet at sight of Rhodes.</p> +<p>“Your pardon, señor, I stumbled past like a bat blind +in the light,” he muttered, and as he met Kit’s eyes and +recognized him his face lit up and his white teeth gleamed +in a smile.</p> +<p>“The saints are in it that you are here again, señor!” +he exclaimed, “and you came on this day when most +needed.”</p> +<p>“Eat and then tell your meaning,” said Isidro, but +Clodomiro glanced toward the kitchen, and then listened +for the other boys. They were laughing down at the +corral. Clodomiro’s horse had thrown one of them.</p> +<p>“With your permission, grandfather, talk first,” he +said and the two men moved to the bench opposite, leaning +over towards him as his voice was lowered.</p> +<p>“Today Marto Cavayso sent for me, he is foreman +over there, and strange things are going forward. He +has heard that General Rotil stripped Mesa Blanca and +that all white people are gone from it. He wants this +house and will pay us well to open the door. It is for the +woman. They have played a game for her, and he has +won, but she is a wild woman when he goes near her, +and his plan is to steal her out at night and hide her from +the others. So he wants this house. He offered me a +good gun. He offers us the protection of Don José +Perez.”</p> +<p>“But––why––that is not credible,” protested Kit. +“He could not count on protection from Perez if he stole +the woman whom many call Señora Perez, for that is +what they did call Doña Jocasta in Hermosillo.”</p> +<p>“Maybe so,” assented Clodomiro stolidly, “but now he +is to be the <i>esposo</i> of a Doña Dolores who is the child +of General Terain, so Marto says. Well, this Doña +Jocasta has done some killing, and Don José does not give +her to prison. He sends her to the desert that she brings +him no disgrace; and if another man takes her or sinks +her in the quicksands then that man will be helping Don +José. That is how it is. Marto says the woman has bewitched +him, and he is crazy about her. Some of the +other men, will take her, if not him.”</p> +<p>Kit exchanged a long look with the old Indian.</p> +<p>“The house is yours, señor,” said Isidro. “By the +word of Señor Whitely, you are manager of Mesa +Blanca.”</p> +<p>“Many thanks,” replied Kit, and sat with his elbows +on the table and his hands over his eyes, thinking––thinking +of the task he had set himself in Sonora, and +the new turn of the wheel of fortune.</p> +<p>“You say the lady is a prisoner?” he asked.</p> +<p>“Sure,” returned Clodomiro promptly. “She broke +loose coming through a little pueblo and ran to the church. +She found the priest and told him things, so they also +take that priest! If they let him go he will talk, and Don +José wanting no talk now of this woman. That priest is +well cared for, but not let go away. After awhile, maybe +so.”</p> +<p>“She is bright, and her father was a priest,” mused Kit. +“So there is three chances out of four that she can read +and write,––a little anyway. Could you get a letter to +her?”</p> +<p>“Elena could.”</p> +<p>Kit got up, took one of the candles from the table and +walked through the rooms surrounding the patio. Some +of them had wooden bars in the windows, but others had +iron grating, and he examined these carefully.</p> +<p>“There are two rooms fit for perfectly good jails,” he +decided, “so I vote we give this bewitched Don Marto +the open door. How many guns can we muster?”</p> +<p>“He promised to give me one, and ammunition.”</p> +<p>“Well, you get it! Get two if you can, but at least +get plenty of ammunition. Isidro, will your wife be brave +and willing to help?”</p> +<p>The old Indian nodded his head vigorously and smiled. +Evidently only a stranger would ask if his Valencia +could be brave!</p> +<p>The two brothers came in, and conversation was more +guarded until Clodomiro had finished his supper, and gone +a little ways home with them to repay them the long wait +for comradeship.</p> +<p>When he came back Kit had his plans fairly settled, and +had a brief note written to Señora Jocasta Perez, as +follows:</p> +<blockquote> +<p><span class='smcap'>Honored Señora</span>:</p> +<p>One chance of safety is yours. Let yourself be persuaded +to leave Soledad with Marto. You will be rescued from him +by</p> +<p class='ralign'><span class='smcap'>An American.</span></p> +</blockquote> +<p>“I reckon that will do the trick,” decided Kit. “I feel +like a blooming Robin Hood without the merry men,––but +the Indians will play safe, even if they are not merry. +When can you get this to Elena?”</p> +<p>“In time of breakfast,” said Clodomiro promptly. “I +go tonight, and tomorrow night he steals that woman. +Maybe Elena helps.”</p> +<p>“You take Elena a present from me to encourage that +help,” suggested Kit, and he poured a little of the gold +from his belt on the paper. “Also there is the same for +you when the lady comes safe. It is best that you make +willing offer of your service in all ways so that he calls +on none of his own men for help.”</p> +<p>“As you say, señor,” assented Clodomiro, “and that +will march well with his desires, for to keep the others +from knowing is the principal thing. She has beauty +like a lily in the shade.”</p> +<p>“He tells you that?” asked Kit quizzically, but the +boy shook his head.</p> +<p>“My own eyes looked on her. She is truly of the +beauty of the holy pictures of the saints in the chapel, +but Marto says she is a witch, and has him enchanted;––also +that evil is very strong in her. I do not know.”</p> +<p>“Well, cross your fingers and tackle the job,” suggested +Kit. “Get what sleep you can, for you may not +get much tomorrow night. It is the work of a brave man +you are going to do, and your pay will be a man’s pay.”</p> +<p>The eyes of the Indian boy glowed with pleasure.</p> +<p>“At your service, señor. I will do this thing or I will +not see Mesa Blanca again.”</p> +<p>Kit looked after Clodomiro and rolled another cigarette +before turning in to sleep.</p> +<p>“When all’s said and done, I may be the chief goat of +this dame adventure,” he told himself in derision. “Maybe +my own fingers need crossing.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIII_A_WOMAN_OF_EMERALD_EYES' id='CHAPTER_XIII_A_WOMAN_OF_EMERALD_EYES'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> +<h3>A WOMAN OF EMERALD EYES</h3> +</div> +<p>At the first break of dawn, Rhodes was up, and +without waiting for breakfast walked over to the +rancherias of Palomitas to see Tula.</p> +<p>She was with some little girls and old women carrying +water from the well as stolidly as though adventure had +never stalked across her path. A whole garment had been +given her instead of the tatter of rags in which she had +returned to the little Indian pueblo. She replied briefly +to his queries regarding her welfare, and when he asked +where she was living, she accompanied him to an old +adobe where there were two other motherless children––victims +of the raiders.</p> +<p>An old, half-blind woman stirred meal into a kettle of +porridge, and to her Kit addressed himself.</p> +<p>“A blessing will be on your house, but you have too +many to feed here,” he said “and the child of Miguel +should go to the ranch house of Mesa Blanca. The wife +of Isidro is a good woman and will give her care.”</p> +<p>“Yes, señor, she is a good woman,” agreed the old +Indian. “Also it may be a safe house for a maiden, +who knows? Here it is not safe; other raiders may +come.”</p> +<p>“That is true. Send her after she has eaten.”</p> +<p>He then sought out one of the older men to learn who +could be counted on to round up the stray cattle of the +ranges. After that he went at once back to the ranch +house, and did not even speak to Tula again. There +was nothing to indicate that she was the principal object +of his visit, or that she had acquired a guardian who was +taking his job seriously.</p> +<p>Later in the day she was brought to Mesa Blanca by +an elderly Indian woman of her mother’s clan, and settled +in the quiet Indian manner in the new dwelling place. +Valencia was full of pity for the girl of few years who +had yet known the hard trail, and had mourned alone for +her dead.</p> +<p>There was a sort of suppressed bustle about <i>la casa de +Mesa Blanca</i> that day, dainties of cookery prepared with +difficulty from the diminished stores, and the rooms of +the iron bars sprinkled and swept, and pillows of wondrous +drawnwork decorated the more pretentious bed. +To Tula it was more of magnificence than she had ever +seen in her brief life, and the many rooms in one dwelling +was a wonder. She would stand staring across the patio +and into the various doorways through which she hesitated +to pass. She for whom the wide silences of the +desert held few terrors, hesitated to linger alone in the +shadows of the circling walls. Kit noted that when each +little task was finished for Valencia, she would go outside +in the sunlight where she had the familiar ranges +and far blue mountains in sight.</p> +<p>“Here it makes much trouble only to live in a house,” +she said pointing to the needlework on a table cover. +“The bowls of food will make that dirty in one eating, +and then what? Women in fine houses are only as mares +in time of thrashing the grain––no end and no beginning +to the work,––they only tread their circle.”</p> +<p>“Right you are, sister,” agreed Kit, “they do make +a lot of whirligig work for themselves, all the same as +your grandmothers painting pottery that smash like eggshells. +But life here isn’t all play at that, and there may +be something doing before sleep time tonight. I went +after you so I would have a comrade I knew would stick.”</p> +<p>She only gazed at him without question.</p> +<p>“You remember, Tula, the woman led by the padre at +Soledad?”</p> +<p>She nodded silently.</p> +<p>“It may be that woman is captive to the same men who +took your people,” he said slowly watching her, “and it +may be we can save her.”</p> +<p>“May it also be that we can catch the man?” she +asked, and her eyes half closed, peered up at him in +curious intensity. “Can that be, O friend?”</p> +<p>“Some day it must surely be, Tula.”</p> +<p>“One day it must be,––one day, and prayers are making +all the times for that day,” she insisted stolidly. “The +old women are talking, and for that day they want him.”</p> +<p>“What day, Tula?”</p> +<p>“The Judas day.”</p> +<p>Kit Rhodes felt a curious creepy sensation of being +near an unseen danger, some sleeping serpent basking in +the sun, harmless until aroused for attack. He thought +of the gentle domestic Valencia, and now this child, both +centered on one thought––to sacrifice a traitor on the +day of Judas!</p> +<p>“Little girls should make helpful prayers,” he ventured +rather lamely, “not vengeance prayers.”</p> +<p>“I was the one to make cry of a woman, when my +father went under the earth,” she said. It was her only +expression of the fact that she had borne a woman’s +share of all their joint toil in the desert,––and he caught +her by the shoulder, as she turned away.</p> +<p>“Why, Kid Cleopatra, it isn’t a woman’s work you’ve +done at all. It’s a man’s job you’ve held down and held +level,” he declared heartily. “That’s why I am counting +on you now. I need eyes to watch when I have to be in +other places.”</p> +<p>“I watch,” she agreed, “I watch for you, but maybe +I make my own prayers also;––all the time prayers.”</p> +<p>“Make one for a straight trail to the border, and all +sentries asleep!” he suggested. “We have a pile of yellow +rock to get across, to say nothing of our latest puzzling +prospect.”</p> +<p>As the day wore on the latest “prospect” presented +many complications to the imagination, and he tramped +the corridors of Mesa Blanca wondering why he had seen +but one side of the question the night before, for in the +broad light of day there seemed a dozen, and all leading +to trouble! That emerald-eyed daughter of a renegade +priest had proven a host in herself when it came to breeding +trouble. She certainly had been unlucky.</p> +<p>“Well, it might be worse,” he confided to Bunting out +in the corral. “Cap Pike might have tagged along to discourse +on the general tomfoolery of a partner who picks +up a damsel in distress at every fork of the trail. Not +that he’d be far wrong at that, Baby. If any hombre +wanted to catch me in a bear trap he’d only need to bait +it with a skirt.”</p> +<p>Baby Bunting nodded sagaciously, and nuzzled after +Kit who was cleaning up the best looking saddle horse +brought in from the Indian herd. It was a scraggy sorrel +with twitchy ears and wicked eyes, but it looked tough +as a mountain buck. Kit knew he should need two like +that for the northern trail, and had hopes that the bewitched +Marto Cavayso, whoever he was, would furnish +another.</p> +<p>He went steadily about his preparations for the border +trail, just as if the addition of an enchantress with green-jewel +eyes was an every day bit of good fortune expected +in every outfit, but as the desert ranges flamed rose and +mauve in the lowering sun there was a restless expectancy +at the ranch house, bolts and locks and firearms were +given final inspection. Even at the best it was a scantily +manned fort for defense in case Mario’s companions at +dice should question his winning and endeavor to capture +the stake.</p> +<p>“I shall go part way on the Soledad trail and wait +what happens,” he told Isidro. “I will remain at a distance +unless Clodomiro needs me. There is no telling +what tricks this Cavayso may have up his sleeve.”</p> +<p>“I was thinking that same thought,” said the old +Indian. “The men of Perez are not trusted long, even +by Perez. When it is a woman, they are not trusted even +in sight! Go with God on the trail.”</p> +<p>The ugly young sorrel ran tirelessly the first half of the +way, just enough to prove his wind. Then they entered +a cañon where scrub cottonwoods and greasebush gathered +moisture enough for scant growth among the +boulders worn out of the cliffs by erosion. It was the +safest place to wait, as it was also the most likely place +for treachery if any was intended to Clodomiro. At +either end of the pass lay open range and brown desert, +with only far patches of oasis where a well was found, or +a sunken river marked a green pasture in some valley.</p> +<p>When he wrote the note he had not thought of danger +to Clodomiro, regarding him only as a fearless messenger, +but if the boy should prove an incumbrance to Cavayso +after they were free of Soledad, that might prove another +matter, and as old Isidro had stated, no one trusted a +Perez man when a woman was in question!</p> +<p>He dismounted to listen and seek safe shadow, for the +dusk had come, and desert stars swung like brilliant lamps +in the night sky, and the white rocks served as clear background +for any moving body.</p> +<p>The plan was, if possible, to get the woman out with +Clodomiro while the men were at supper. The <i>manta</i> of +Elena could cover her, and if she could walk with a water +jar to the far well as any Indian woman would walk, and +a horse hid in the willows there–––!</p> +<p>It had been well thought out, and if nothing had interfered +they should have reached the cañon an hour earlier. +If Clodomiro had failed it might be a serious matter, and +Kit Rhodes had some anxious moments for the stolen +woman while dusk descended on the cañon.</p> +<p>He listened for the beat of horse hoofs, but what he +heard first was a shot, and a woman’s scream, and then +the walls of the cañon echoed the tumult of horses racing +towards him in flight.</p> +<p>He recognized Clodomiro by the bare head and banda, +and a woman bent low beside him, her <i>manta</i> flapping +like the wings of a great bird as her horse leaped forward +beside the Indian boy.</p> +<p>Back of them galloped a man who slowed up and shot +backward at the foremost of a pursuing band.</p> +<p>He missed, and the fire was returned, evidently with +some effect, for the first marksman grunted and cursed, +and Kit heard the clatter of his gun as it fell from his +hand. He leaned forward and spurred his horse to outrun +the pursuers. He was evidently Marto.</p> +<p>Kit had a mental vision of fighting Marto alone for the +woman at Mesa Blanca, or fighting with the entire band +and decided to halt the leader of the pursuers and gain +that much time at least for the woman and Clodomiro.</p> +<p>He had mounted at the first sound of the runaways, +and crouching low in the saddle, hid back of the thick +green of a dwarfed mesquite, and as the leader came into +range against the white rock well he aimed low and +touched the trigger.</p> +<p>The horse leaped up and the rider slid off as the animal +sunk to the ground. Kit guided his mount carefully along +shadowed places into the road expecting each instant a +shot from the man on the ground.</p> +<p>But it did not come, and he gained the trail before the +other pursuers rounded the bend of the cañon. The +sound of their hoofs would deafen them to his, and once +on the trail he gave the sorrel the rein, and the wild thing +went down the gully like an arrow from a bow.</p> +<p>He was more than a little puzzled at the silence back +of him. The going down of the one man and horse had +evidently checked all pursuit. Relieved though he was at +the fact, he realized it was not a natural condition of +affairs, and called for explanation.</p> +<p>The other three riders were a half mile ahead and he +had no idea of joining them on the trail. It occurred to +him there was a possible chance of taking a short cut over +the point of the mesa and beating them to the home ranch. +There was an even chance that the rougher trail would +offer difficulties in the dark, but that was up to the sorrel +and was worth the trial.</p> +<p>The bronco took the mesa walls like a cat, climbed and +staggered up, slid and tumbled down and crossed the +level intervening space to the corral as the first sound of +the others came beating across the sands.</p> +<p>A dark little figure arose by the corral bars and reached +for the horse as he slipped from the saddle.</p> +<p>“Quickly, Tulita!” he said, stripping saddle and bridle +from its back, “one instant only to make ourselves as still +as shadows under the walls of the house.”</p> +<p>Fast as he ran, she kept pace with him to the corridor +where Isidro waited.</p> +<p>“All is well,” he said briefly to the old man. “Clodomiro +comes safe with the señora, and the man who would +steal her was shot and lost his gun. All has gone very +well.”</p> +<p>“Thanks to God!” said the old Indian. “The stealing +of women has ever been a danger near, but luck +comes well to you, señor, and it is good to be under +the protection of you.”</p> +<p>“Open the door and show a light of welcome,” said +Kit. “Call your wife and let all be as planned by us. +I will be in the shadows, and a good gun for safety of +the woman if needed, but all will work well, as you will +see.”</p> +<p>The three riders came up to the portal before dismounting, +and Valencia went forward, while Isidro held +high a blazing torch, and Clodomiro dismounted quickly, +and offered help to the woman.</p> +<p>“My grandmother has all for your comfort, señora,” +he said, “will it please you to descend?”</p> +<p>The man swung from the saddle, awkwardly nursing +his right arm.</p> +<p>“Yes this is a safe place, Doña Jocasta,” he declared. +“It is all well arranged. With your permission I may +assist you.”</p> +<p>He offered his left hand, but she looked from him to +Valencia, and then to Clodomiro.</p> +<p>“You are young to be a stealer of women;––the saints +send you a whiter road!” she said. “And you may help +me, for my shoulder has a hurt from that first shot of +the comrade of this man.”</p> +<p>“No, señora,” stated her captor, “the evil shot came +from no comrade of mine. They did not follow us, those +bandits––accursed be their names! They were hid in +the cañoncita and jumped our trail. But have no fear, +Doña Jocasta, they are left behind, and it will be my +pleasure to nurse the wounds they have made.”</p> +<p>“Be occupied with your own,” she suggested pointing +to his hand from which blood still dripped, “and you, +mother, can show me the new prison. It can be no worse +than the others.”</p> +<p>“Better, much better, little dove,” said Marto, who +followed after the two women, and glanced over their +shoulders into the guest chamber of the iron bars, “it is a +bird cage of the finest, and a nest for harmonies.”</p> +<p>Then to Valencia he turned with authority, “When +you have made the señorita comfortable, bring the key of +the door to me.”</p> +<p>“<i>Si</i>, señor,” said Valencia bending low, and even as +the prisoner entered the room, she changed the key to the +outside of the door. Marto nodded his approval and +turned away.</p> +<p>“Now this shirt off, and a basin of water and a +bandage,” he ordered Isidro. “It is not much, and it still +bleeds.”</p> +<p>“True, it does, señor, and the room ordered for you +has already the water and a clean shirt on the pillow. +Clodomiro, go you for a bandage, and fetch wine to +take dust out of the throat! This way, señor,––and may +you be at home in your own house!”</p> +<p>Unsuspecting, the amorous Marto followed the old man +into the room prepared. He grunted contemptuous satisfaction +at evidences of comfort extending to lace curtains +hanging white and full over the one window.</p> +<p>“It is the time for a shirt of such cleanness,” he observed, +with a grin. “<i>Jesusita!</i> but the sleeve sticks to me! +Cut it off, and be quick to make me over into a bridegroom.”</p> +<p>The old man did as he was bidden, and when Clodomiro +brought in a woven tray covered with a napkin from +which a bottle of wine was discernible, Marto grinned +at him.</p> +<p>“It is a soft nest you found for me, boy,” he said +appreciatively, “and when I am capitan I will make you +lieutenant.”</p> +<p>“Thanks to you, señor, and hasten the day!”</p> +<p>Clodomiro assisted his grandfather, and stood aside at +the door respectfully as the old man passed out with his +primitive supply of salves and antiseptics, and only when +all need of caution was ended the boy smiled at the +would-be Lothario, and the smile held a subtle mockery +as he murmured, “The saints send you a good night’s +sleep, señor, and a waking to health––and clearer sight!”</p> +<p>“Hell and its blazes to you! why do you grin?” demanded +the other setting down the bottle from which he +had taken a long and grateful drink, but quick as a cat +the boy pulled the door shut, and slipped the bolt on the +outside, and laughed aloud.</p> +<p>“Not this night will you be bridegroom for another +man’s wife, señor!” he called. “Also it is better that +you put curb on your curses,––for the lady has a mind +for a quiet night of sleep.”</p> +<p>Marto rushed to the curtained window only to find iron +bars and the glint of a gun barrel. Isidro held the gun, +and admonished the storming captive with the gentle +fatalism of the Indian.</p> +<p>“It is done under orders of the major-domo, señor. +There is no other way. If your words are hard or rough +to the ears of the lady, there is a bullet for you, and a +hidden place for your grave. This is the only word to +you, señor. It is given me to say.”</p> +<p>“But––Gods, saints, and devils––hearken you to +me!” stormed the man. “This is a fool’s joke! It can’t +go on! I must be back at sunrise––<i>I must!</i>”</p> +<p>“You will see many suns rise through these bars if +the padrone so pleases,” murmured Isidro gently. “That +is not for us to decide.”</p> +<p>“To hottest hell with your padrone and you! Bring +him here to listen to me. This is no affair of a man and +a woman,––curse her witch eyes and their green fires! +There is work afoot,––big work, and I must get back to +Soledad. You know what goes over the trail to Soledad,––every +Indian knows! It is the cache of ammunition +with which to save the peon and Indian slave,––you +know that! You know the revolutionists must get it to +win in Sonora. A trap is set for tomorrow, a big trap! I +must be there to help spring it. To you there will be +riches and safety all your life for my freedom––on the +cross I will swear that. I–––”</p> +<p>“Señor, nothing is in my power, and of your traps I +know nothing. I am told you set a trap for a lady who +is in grief and your own feet were caught in it. That is +all I know of traps,” said Isidro.</p> +<p>Kit patted the old man on the shoulder for cleverness, +even while he wondered at the ravings of the would-be +abductor. Then he crept nearer the window where he +could see the face of the prisoner clearly, and without +the overshadowing hat he had worn on entrance. The +face gave him something to think about, for it was that +of one of the men who had ridden up to the Yaqui spring +the day he had found Tula and Miguel in the desert. +How should this rebel who rode on secret trails with +Ramon Rotil be head man at Soledad for Rotil’s enemy? +And what was the trap?</p> +<p>“Look well at that man, Isidro,” he whispered, “and +tell me if such a man rode here to Mesa Blanca with +General Rotil.”</p> +<p>“No such man was here, señor, but this man was foreman +at Soledad before the Deliverer came over the eastern +range to Mesa Blanca. Also the general and Don José +Perez are known as enemies;––the friend of one cannot +be the friend of another.”</p> +<p>“True enough, Isidro, but that does not help me to +understand the trap set. Call your wife and learn if I can +see the Doña Jocasta.”</p> +<p>Tula had crept up beside them, and touched him on the +arm.</p> +<p>“She asks for you, and sadness is with her very much. +She watches us in fear, and cannot believe that the door +is open for her.”</p> +<p>“If that is her only trouble we can clear it away for +her, <i>pronto</i>,” he stated, and they entered the patio.</p> +<p>“It is not her only trouble, but of the other she does +not speak. Valencia weeps to look at her.”</p> +<p>“Heavens! Is she as bad looking as that?”</p> +<p>“No, it is another reason,” stated the girl stolidly. +“She is a caged humming bird, and her wings have +broken.”</p> +<p>Kit Rhodes never forgot that first picture of their kidnaped +guest, for he agreed with Clodomiro who saw in +her the living representation of old biblical saints.</p> +<p>The likeness was strengthened by the half Moorish +drapery over her head, a black mantilla which, at sound +of a man’s step, she hurriedly drew across the lower part +of her face. Her left arm and shoulder was bare, and +Valencia bent over her with a strip of old linen for +bandage, but the eyes of Doña Jocasta were turned half +shrinking, half appraising to the strange Americano. It +was plain to her that conquering men were merely the +owners of women.</p> +<p>“It is good you come, señor,” said Valencia. “Here +is a wound and the bullet under the skin. I have waited +for Isidro to help but he is slow on the way.”</p> +<p>“He is busy otherwise, but I will call him unless my +own help will serve here. That is for the señora to say.”</p> +<p>The eyes of the girl,––she was not more,––never left +his face, and above the lace scarf she peered at him as +through a mask.</p> +<p>“It is you who sent messenger to save an unhappy one +you did not know? You are the Americano of the +letter?”</p> +<p>“At your service, señora. May that service begin +now?”</p> +<p>“It began when that letter was written, and this room +made ready,” she said. “And if you can find the bullet +it will end the unhappiness of this good woman. She +weeps for the little bit of lead. It should have struck a +heart instead of a shoulder.”</p> +<p>“Ah, señora!” lamented Valencia, “weep like a +woman over sorrows. It is a better way than to mock.”</p> +<p>“God knows it is not for me to mock!” breathed the +soft voice bitterly. “And if the señor will lend you his +aid, I will again be in his debt.”</p> +<p>Without further words Kit approached, and Valencia +drew the cover from the shoulder and indicated where +the ball could be felt.</p> +<p>“I cannot hold the shoulder and press the flesh there +without making much pain, too much,” stated Valencia, +“but it must come out, or there will be trouble.”</p> +<p>“Sure there will,” asserted Kit, “and if you or Tula +will hold the arm, and Doña Jocasta will pardon me–––”</p> +<p>He took the white shoulder in his two hands and gently +traced the direction of the bullet. It had struck in the +back and slanted along the shoulder blade. It was evidently +fired from a distance and little force left. Marto +had been much nearer the pursuer, and his was a clean +cut wound through the upper arm.</p> +<p>The girl turned chalky white as he began slowly to +press the bullet backward along its trail, but she uttered +no sound, only a deep intake of breath that was half a +sob, and the cold moisture of sickening pain stood in +beads on her face.</p> +<p>All of the little barriers with a stranger were forgotten, +and the shielding scarf fell away from her face and +bosom, and even with the shadowed emerald eyes closed, +Kit Rhodes thought her the most perfect thing in beauty +he had ever seen.</p> +<p>He hated himself for the pain he was forcing on her +as he steadily followed the bullet upward and upward +until it lay in his hand.</p> +<p>She did not faint, as he feared she might, but fell +back in the chair, while Valencia busied herself with the +ointment and bandage, and Tula, at a word from Kit, +poured her a cup of wine.</p> +<p>“Drink,” he said, “if only a little, señora. Your +strength has served you well, but it needs help now.”</p> +<p>She swallowed a little of the wine, and drew the scarf +about her, and after a little opened her eyes and looked +at him. He smiled at her approvingly, and offered her +the bullet.</p> +<p>“It may be you will want it to go on some shrine to a +patron saint, señora,” he suggested, but she did not take +it, only looked at him steadily with those wonderful eyes, +green with black lashes, shining out of her marble Madonna-like +face.</p> +<p>“My patron saint traveled the trail with you, Señor +Americano, and the bullet is witness. Let me see it.”</p> +<p>He gave it into her open hand where she balanced it +thoughtfully.</p> +<p>“So near the mark, yet went aside,” she murmured. +“Could that mean there is yet any use left in the world +for me?”</p> +<p>“Beauty has its own use in the world, señora; that is +why rose gardens are planted.”</p> +<p>“True, señor, though I belong no more to the gardens;––no, +not to gardens, but to the desert. Neither have I +place nor power today, and I may never have, but I give +back to you this witness of your great favor. If a day +comes when I, Jocasta, can give favor in return, bring +or send this witness of the ride tonight. I will redeem it.”</p> +<p>“The favor is to me, and calls for no redemption,” +said Kit awkward at the regal poise of her, and enchanted +by the languorous glance and movement of her. Even +the reaching out of her hand made him think of Tula’s +words, ‘a humming bird,’ if one could imagine such a +jewel-winged thing weighted down with black folds of +mourning.</p> +<p>“A caged humming bird with broken wings!” and that +memory brought another thought, and he fumbled the +bullet, and gave the first steady look into those emerald, +side-glancing eyes.</p> +<p>“But––there is a compact I should appreciate if Doña +Jocasta will do me the favor,––and it is that she sets +value on the life that is now her very own, and, that she +forgets not to cherish it.”</p> +<p>“Ah-h!” She looked up at him piteously a moment, +and then the long lashes hid her eyes, and her head was +bent low. “Sinful and without shame have I been! and +they have told you of the knife I tried to use––here!”</p> +<p>She touched her breast with her slender ring-laden +hand, and her voice turned mocking.</p> +<p>“But you see, Señor Americano, even Death will not +welcome me, and neither steel nor lead will serve me!”</p> +<p>“Life will serve you better, señora.”</p> +<p>“Not yet has it done so, and I am a woman––old––old! +I am twenty, señor, and refused of Death! Jocasta +Benicia they named me. Jocasta Perdida it should have +been to fit the soul of me, so why should I promise a man +whom I do not know that I will cherish my life when I +would not promise a padre? Answer me that, señor +whose name has not been told me!”</p> +<p>“But you will promise, señora,” insisted Kit, smiling +a little, though thrilled by the sadness of life’s end at +twenty, “and as for names, if you are Doña Perdida I +may surely name myself Don Esperenzo, for I have not +only hope, but conviction, that life is worth living!”</p> +<p>“To a man, yes, and Mexico is a man’s land.”</p> +<p>“Ay, it must be yours as well,––beautiful that thou +art!” murmured Valencia adoringly. “You should not +give yourself a name of sadness, for this is our Señor El +Pajarito, who is both gay and of honesty. He,––with +God,––is your protection, and harm shall not be yours.”</p> +<p>Doña Jocasta reached out and touched kindly the bent +head of the Indian woman.</p> +<p>“As you will, mother. With hope and a singer for a +shield, even a prison would not be so bad, El Pajarito, eh? +Do you make songs––or sing them, señor?”</p> +<p>“Neither,––I am only a lucky bluff. My old partner +and I used to sing fool things to the mules, and as we +could out-bray the burros my Indio friends are kind and +call it a singing;––as easy as that is it to get credit for +talent in this beneficent land of yours! But––the compact, +señora?”</p> +<p>Her brows lifted wearily, yet the hint of a smile was +in her eyes.</p> +<p>“Yes, since you ask so small a thing, it is yours. +Jocasta makes compact with you; give me a wish that the +life is worth it.”</p> +<p>“Sure I will,” said Kit holding out his hand, but she +shrunk perceptibly, and her hand crept out of sight in the +black draperies.</p> +<p>“You have not, perhaps, ever sent a soul to God without +absolution?” she asked in a breathless hushed sort of +voice. “No señor, the look of you tells me you have not +been so unpardonable. Is it not so?”</p> +<p>“Why, yes,” returned Kit, “it hasn’t been a habit +with me to start anyone on the angels’ flight without giving +him time to bless himself, but even at that–––”</p> +<p>“No, no!” as he took a step nearer. “The compact +is ours without handclasp. The hand of Jocasta is the +hand of the black glove, señor.”</p> +<p>He looked from her to the two Indians, the old woman +kneeling beside Jocasta and crossing herself, and Tula, +erect and slender against the adobe wall, watching him +stolidly. There was no light on the subject from either +of them.</p> +<p>“Pardon, I’m but a clumsy Americano, not wise to +your meanings,” he ventured, “and beautiful hands look +better without gloves of any color.”</p> +<p>“It may be so, yet I have heard that no matter how +handsome a headsman may be, he wears a black mask, +and hands are not stretched out to touch his.”</p> +<p>“Señora!”</p> +<p>“Señor, we arrive at nothing when making speech of +me,” she said with a little sigh. “Our ride was hard, and +rest is best for all of us. Our friend here tells me there +is supper, and if you will eat with me, we will know +more of how all this has come about. It is strange that +you, a lone Americano in this land, should plan this adventure +like a bandit, and steal not only the major-domo +of Soledad, but the woman he would steal!”</p> +<p>“It was so simple that the matter is not worth words +except as concerns Clodomiro, who was the only one in +danger.”</p> +<p>“Ah! if ever they had suspected him! You have not +seen that band of men, they are terrible! Of all the men +of José Perez they are the blackest hearts, and if it had +not been for the poor padre–––”</p> +<p>“Tell me of him,” said Kit who perceived she was willing +enough to speak plainly of all things except herself. +“He is a good man?”</p> +<p>“A blessing to me, señor!” she asserted earnestly as +they were seated at the table so carefully prepared by +Valencia. “Look you! I broke away from those animals +and in a little mountain village,––such a one as I was +born in, señor!––I ran to the altar of the little chapel, and +that priest was a shield for me. Against all the men he +spoke curses if they touched me. Well, after that there +was only one task to do, and that was to carry him along. +I think they wanted to kill him, and had not the courage. +And after all that I came away from Soledad without +saving him;––that was bad of me, very bad! I––I think +I went wild in the head when I saw the men play games +of cards, and I to go to the winner! Not even a knife +for food would they give me, for they knew–––”</p> +<p>She shuddered, and laid down quickly the knife she had +lifted from beside her plate, and glanced away when she +found him regarding her.</p> +<p>“It has been long weeks since I was trusted as you are +trusting me here,” she continued quietly. “See! On my +wrists were chains at first.”</p> +<p>“And this Marto Cavayso did that?” demanded Kit +as she showed her scarred slender wrist over which +Valencia had wept.</p> +<p>“No, it was before Cavayso––he is a new man––so +I think this was when Conrad was first helping to plan me +as an insane woman and have me put secretly to prison, +but some fear struck José Perez, and that plan would not +serve. In the dark of night I was half smothered in +wraps and put in an ox-cart of a countryman and hauled +north out of the city. Two men rode as guard. They +chained me in the day and slept, traveling only in the +night until they met Cavayso and his men. After that +I remember little, I was so weary of life! One alcalde +asked about me and Cavayso said I was his wife who had +run away with a gypsy fiddler, and he was taking me +home to my children. Of what use to speak? A dozen +men would have added their testimony to his, and had +sport in making other romance against me. They were +sullen because they thought I had jewels hid under my +clothes, and Cavayso would not let them search me. It +has been hell in these hills of Sonora, Señor Pajarito.”</p> +<p>“That is easy to understand,” agreed Kit wondering +at her endurance, and wondering at the poise and beauty +of her after such experience. There was no trace of +nervousness, or of tears, or self-pity. It was as if all +this of which she told had been a minor affair, dwarfed +by some tragic thing to which he had no key.</p> +<p>“So, Conrad was in this plot against you?” he asked, +and knew that Tula, standing back of his chair had missed +no word. “You mean the German Conrad who is manager +of Granados ranches across the border?”</p> +<p>“Señor, I mean the beast whose trail is red with the +blood of innocence, and whose poison is sinking into the +veins of Mexico like a serpent, striking secretly, now +here, now there, until the blood of the land is black with +that venom. Ay! I know, señor;––the earth is acrawl +with the German lizards creeping into the shining sun of +Mexico! This so excellent Don Adolf Conrad is only +one, and José Perez is his target––I am the one to know +that! A year ago, and Don José was a man, with faults +perhaps; but who is perfect on this earth? Then came +Don Adolf riding south and is very great gentleman and +makes friends. His home in Hermosillo becomes little +by little the house of Perez, and little by little Perez goes +on crooked paths. That is true! First it was to buy a +ship for coast trade, then selling rifles in secret where +they should not be sold, then––shame it is to tell––men +and women were sold and carried on that ship like cattle! +Not rebels, señor, not prisoners of battle,––but herdsmen +and ranch people, poor Indian farmers whom only devils +would harm! Thus it was, señor, until little by little +Don Adolf knew so much that José Perez awoke to find +he had a master, and a strong one! It was not one man +alone who caught him in the net; it was the German comrades +of Don Adolf who never forgot their task, even +when he was north in the States. They needed a man of +name in Hermosillo, and José Perez is now that man. +When the whip of the German cracks, he must jump to +serve their will.”</p> +<p>“But José Perez is a strong man. Before this day he +has wiped many a man from his trail if the man made +him trouble,” ventured Kit.</p> +<p>“You have right in that, señor, but I am telling you +it is a wide net they spread and in that net he is snared. +Also his household is no longer his own. The Indian +house servants are gone, and outlaw Japanese are there +instead. That is true and their dress is the dress of +Indians. They are Japanese men of crimes, and German +men gave aid that they escape from justice in Japan. +It is because they need such men for German work in +Mexico, men who have been taught German and dare +not turn rebel. Not an hour of the life of José Perez +is free from the eyes of a spy who is a man of crimes. +And there are other snares. They tell him that he is to +be a governor by their help;––that is a rich bait to float +before the eyes of a man! His feet are set on a trail made +by Adolph Conrad,––He is trapped, and there is no +going back. Poison and shame and slavery and death +have come upon that trail like black mushrooms grown +in a night, and what the end of the trail will be is hid +in the heart of God.”</p> +<p>“But your sympathy is with those women in slavery +there in the south, and not with the evil friend of José +Perez?” asked Kit.</p> +<p>“Can you doubt, señor? Am I not as truly a victim +as they? I have not worked under a whip, but there are +other punishments––for a woman!”</p> +<p>Her voice dropped almost to a whisper, and she rested +her chin on her hand, staring out into the shadows of +the patio, oblivious of them all. Tula gazed at her as +if fascinated, and there was a difference in her regard. +That she was linked in hate against Conrad gave the +Indian girl common cause with the jewel-eyed woman +whose beauty had been the boast of a province. Kit +noticed it and was vastly comforted. The absolute +stolidity of Tula had left him in doubt as to the outcome +if his little partner had disapproved of his fascinating +protégée. He knew the thing she wanted to know, and +asked it.</p> +<p>“Señora, the last band of Indian slaves from Sonora +were driven from the little pueblo of Palomitas at the +edge of this ranch. And there are sisters and mothers +here with sick hearts over that raid. Can you tell me +where those women were sent?”</p> +<p>“Which raid was that, and when?” asked Jocasta +arousing herself from some memory in which she had been +submerged. “Pardon, señor, I am but a doleful guest at +supper, thinking too deeply of that which sent me here. +Your question?”</p> +<p>He repeated it, and she strove to remember.</p> +<p>“There were many, and no one was told whence they +came. It was supposed they were war prisoners who had +to be fed, and were being sent to grow their own maize. +If it were the last band then it would be the time Conrad +had the wound in the face, here, like a knife thrust, and +that–––”</p> +<p>“That was the time,” interrupted Kit eagerly. “If +you can tell us where those people were sent you will +prove the best of blessings to Mesa Blanca this night.”</p> +<p>She smiled sadly at that and looked from him to Tula, +whom she evidently noted for the first time.</p> +<p>“It is long since the word of blessing has been given +to Jocasta,” she said wistfully. “It would be a comfort +to earn it in this house. But that band was not sent away,––not +far. Something went wrong with the boat down +the coast, I forgot what it was, but there was much +trouble, and the Indians were sent to a plantation of the +General Terain until the boat was ready. I do not know +what plantation, except that Conrad raged about it. He +and Don José had a quarrel, very terrible! That wound +given to him by a woman made him very difficult; then +the quarrel ended by them drinking together too much. +And after that many things happened very fast, and––I +was brought north.”</p> +<p>“And the Indians?”</p> +<p>“Señor, I do not think anyone thought again of those +Indians. They are planting maize or cane somewhere +along the Rio Sonora.”</p> +<p>Tula sank down weeping against the wall, while +Valencia stroked her hair and patted her. Doña Jocasta +regarded her curiously.</p> +<p>“To be young enough to weep like that over a sorrow!” +she murmured wistfully. “It is to envy her, and +not mourn over her.”</p> +<p>“But this weeping is of joy,” explained Valencia. “It +is as the señor says, a blessing has come with you over the +hard road. This child was also stolen, and was clever +to escape. Her mother and her sister are yet there in +that place where the maize is planted. If the boat has not +taken them, then they also may get back. It is a hope!”</p> +<p>“Poor little one! and now that I could make good use +of power, it is no longer mine,” said Jocasta, looking at +Kit regretfully. “A young maid with courage to escape +has earned the right to be given help.”</p> +<p>“She will be given it,” he answered quietly, “and since +your patience has been great with my questions, I would +ask more of this Cavayso we have trapped tonight. He +is raging of curious things there across the patio. Isidro +holds a gun on him that he subdue his shouts, and his offer +is of rich bribes for quick freedom. He is as mad to get +back to Soledad as he was to leave it, and he tells of a trap +set there for someone. It concerns ammunition for the +revolutionists.”</p> +<p>“No, not for them, but for trade in the south,” said +Jocasta promptly. “Yes, Soledad has long been the +place for hiding of arms. It was the task of Don Adolf +to get them across the border, and then a man of Don +José finds a safe trail for them. Sometimes a German +officer from Tucson is of much help there in the north. +I have heard Don José and Conrad laugh about the so +easily deceived Americanos,––your pardon, señor!”</p> +<p>“Oh, we are used to that,” agreed Kit easily, “and it is +quite true. We have a whole flock of peace doves up +there helping the Hohenzollern game. What was the +officer’s name?”</p> +<p>“A name difficult and long,” she mused, striving to +recall it. “But that name was a secret, and another was +used. He was known only as a simple advocate––James, +the name; I remember that for they told me it was the +English for Diego, which was amusing to me,––there is +no sound alike in them!”</p> +<p>“That’s true, there isn’t,” said Kit, who had no special +interest in any advocate named James. “But to +get back to the man in the cell over there and the ammunition, +may I ask if he confided to you anything of +that place of storage? I mean Cavayso?”</p> +<p>“No, señor; and for a reason of the best. He knows +nothing, and all his days and nights were spent searching +secretly for the entrance to that dungeon,––if it is a +dungeon! He thought I should know, and made threats +against me because I would not tell. Myself, I think +José Perez tells no one that hiding place, not even Conrad, +though Conrad has long wanted it! I told Don José that +if he told that he was as good as a dead man, and I believe +it. But now,” and she shook her head fatefully, “now he +is sure to get it!”</p> +<p>“But he swears he must get back to Soledad by sunrise +for a trap is set. A trap for whom?” persisted Kit.</p> +<p>Doña Jocasta shook her head uncomprehendingly.</p> +<p>“God forbid he should get free to put those wolves on +my track; then indeed I would need a knife, señor! He +held them back from me on the trail, but now he would +not hold them back.”</p> +<p>“But the trap, señora?” repeated the puzzled Kit. +“That man was in earnest,––dead in earnest! He did not +know I was listening, his words were only for an Indian,––for +Isidro. Who could he trap? Was he expecting +anyone at Soledad?”</p> +<p>Doña Jocasta looked up with a little gasp of remembrance.</p> +<p>“It is true, a courier did come two days ago from the +south, and Cavayso told me he meant to take me to the +desert and hide me before Don José arrived. Also more +mules and wagons came in. And Elena scolded about +men who came to eat but not to work. Yes, they smoked, +and talked, and talked, and waited! I never thought of +them except to have a great fear. Yesterday after the +lad brought me that letter I had not one thought, but to +count the hours, and watch the sun. But it may be +Cavayso told the truth, and that Don José was indeed +coming. He told me he had promised Perez to lose me +in the Arroya Maldioso if in no other way, and he had +to manage that I never be seen again.”</p> +<p>“Arroya Maldioso?” repeated Kit, “I don’t understand.”</p> +<p>“It is the great quicksand of Soledad, green things +grow and blossom there but no living thing can cross +over. It is beautiful––that little arroya, and very bad.”</p> +<p>“I had heard of it, but forgot,” acknowledged Kit, +“but that is not the trap of which he is raving now. It +is some other thing.”</p> +<p>Doña Jocasta did not know. She confessed that her +mind was dark and past thinking. The ways of Don +José and Conrad were not easy for other men of different +lives to understand;––there was a great net of war +and scheming and barter, and Don José was snared in +that net, and the end no man could see!</p> +<p>“Have you ever heard that Marto Cavayso was once +a lieutenant of General Rotil?” Kit asked.</p> +<p>“The Deliverer!” she gasped, leaning forward and +staring at him. A deep flush went over her face and +receded, leaving her as deathly pale as when the bullet +had been forced from the white shoulder. Her regard +was curious, for her brows were contracted and there +was domination and command in her eyes. “Why do +you say this to me, señor? And why do you think it?”</p> +<p>Kit was astonished at the effect of his words, and quite +as much astonished to hear anyone of the Perez household +refer to Rotil as “the Deliverer.”</p> +<p>“Señora, if you saw him ride side by side with Rotil, +drinking from the same cup in the desert, would you not +also think it?”</p> +<p>Tula rose to her feet, and moved closer to Kit.</p> +<p>“I too was seeing them together, señora,” she said. +“It was at the Yaqui well; I drew the water, and they +drank it. This man of the loud curses is the man.”</p> +<p>Doña Jocasta covered her eyes with her hand, and she +seemed shaken. No one else spoke, and the silence was +only broken by the muffled tones of Marto in the cell, and +the brief bark of Clodomiro’s dog at the corral.</p> +<p>“God knows what may be moving forward,” she said +at last, “but there is some terrible thing afoot. Take me +to this man.”</p> +<p>“It may not be a pleasant thing to do,” advised Kit. +“This is a man’s game, señora, and his words might offend, +for his rage is very great against you.”</p> +<p>“Words!” she said with a note of disdain, and arose +to her feet. She swayed slightly, and Valencia steadied +her, and begged her to wait until morning, for her +strength was gone and the night was late.</p> +<p>“Peace, woman! Who of us is sure of a morning? +This minute is all the time that is ours, and––I must +know.”</p> +<p>She leaned on Valencia as they crossed the patio, and +Tula moved a seat outside the door of Marto’s room. Kit +fastened a torch in the holder of the brick pillar and +opened the door without being seen, and stood watching +the prisoner.</p> +<p>Marto Cavayso, who had been pleading with Isidro, +whirled only to find the barrel of another gun thrust +through the carved grill in the top of the door.</p> +<p>“Isidro,” said Kit, “this man is to answer questions +of the señora. If he is uncivil you can singe him with +a bullet at your own will.”</p> +<p>“Many thanks, señor,” returned Isidro promptly. +“That is a pleasant work to think of, for the talk of this +shameless gentleman is poison to the air.”</p> +<p>“You!” burst out Marto, pointing a hand at Jocasta in +the corridor. “You put witchcraft of hell on me, and +wall me in here with an old lunatic for guard, and +now–––”</p> +<p>Bing! A bullet from Isidro’s rifle whistled past Marto’s +ear and buried itself in the adobe, scattering plaster +and causing the prisoner to crouch back in the corner.</p> +<p>Jocasta regarded him as if waiting further speech, but +none came.</p> +<p>“That is better,” she said. “No one wishes to do you +harm, but you need a lesson very badly. Now Marto +Cavayso,––if that be your name!––why did you carry me +away? Was it your own doing, or were you under orders +of your General Rotil?”</p> +<p>“I should have let the men have you,” he muttered. “I +was a bewitched man, or you never would have traveled +alive to see Soledad. Rotil? Do not the handsome women +everywhere offer him love and comradeship? Would +he risk a good man to steal a woman of whom José Perez +is tired?”</p> +<p>“You are not the one to give judgment,” said a strange +voice outside the barred window.––“That I did not +send you to steal women is very true, and the task I did +send you for has been better done by other men in your +absence.”</p> +<p>Cavayso swore, and sat on the bed, his head in his +hands. Outside the window there were voices in friendly +speech, that of Clodomiro very clear as he told his grandfather +the dogs did not bark but once, because some of +the Mesa Blanca boys were with the general, who was +wounded.</p> +<p>Kit closed and bolted again the door of Cavayso, feeling +that the guardianship of beauty in Sonora involved +a man in many awkward and entangling situations. If +it was indeed Rotil–––</p> +<p>But a curious choking moan in the corridor caused him +to turn quickly, but not quickly enough.</p> +<p>Doña Jocasta, who had been as a reed of steel against +other dangers, had risen to her feet as if for flight at +sound of the voice, and she crumpled down on the floor +and lay, white as a dead woman, in a faint so deep that +even her heartbeat seemed stilled.</p> +<p>Kit gathered her up, limp as a branch of willow, and +preceded by Tula with the torch, bore her back to the +chamber prepared for her. Valencia swept back the +covers of the bed, and with many mutterings of fear +and ejaculations to the saints, proceeded to the work of +resuscitation.</p> +<p>“To think that she came over that black road and held +fast to a heart of bravery,––and now at a word from the +Deliverer, she falls dead in fear! So it is with many who +hear his name; yet he is not bad to his friends. Every +Indian in Sonora is knowing that,” stated Valencia.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIV_THE_HAWK_OF_THE_SIERRAS' id='CHAPTER_XIV_THE_HAWK_OF_THE_SIERRAS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> +<h3>THE HAWK OF THE SIERRAS</h3> +</div> +<p>“That is what we get, Tula, by gathering beauty in +distress into our outfit,” sighed Kit. “She seems +good foundation for a civil war here. Helen of Troy,––a +lady of an eastern clan!––started a war on less, and the +cards are stacked against us if they start scrapping. +When Mexican gentry begin hostilities, the innocent bystander +gets the worst of it,––especially the Americano. +So it is just as well the latest Richard in the field does +not know whose bullet hit him in the leg, and brought his +horse down.”</p> +<p>Tula, who since their entrance to the civilized surroundings +of Mesa Blanca, had apparently dropped all +initiative, and was simply a little Indian girl under orders, +listened impassively to this curious monologue. She +evidently thought white people use many words for a +little meaning.</p> +<p>“The Deliverer says will you graciously come?” she +stated for the second time.</p> +<p>“Neither graciously, gracefully or gratefully, but I’ll +arrive,” he conceded. “His politeness sounds ominous. +It is puzzling why I, a mere trifle of an American ranch +hand, should be given audience instead of his distinguished +lieutenant.”</p> +<p>“Isidro and Clodomiro are talking much with him, and +the man Marto is silent, needing no guard,” said Tula.</p> +<p>“Sure,––Rotil has the whole show buffaloed. Well, +let’s hope, child, that he is not a mind reader, for we have +need of all the ore we brought out, and can’t spare any for +revolutionary subscriptions.”</p> +<p>Kit followed Tula into the <i>sala</i> where a rawhide cot +had been placed, and stretched on it was the man of Yaqui +Spring.</p> +<p>One leg of his trousers was ripped up, and there was the +odor of a greasewood unguent in the room. Isidro was +beside him, winding a bandage below the knee. A yellow +silk banda around the head of Rotil was stained with +red.</p> +<p>But he had evidently been made comfortable, for he +was rolling a cigarette and was calling Isidro “doctor.” +Two former vaqueros of Mesa Blanca were there, and +they nodded recognition to Kit. Rotil regarded him with +a puzzled frown, and then remembered, and waved his +hand in salute.</p> +<p>“Good day, señor, we meet again!” he said. “I am +told that you are my host and the friend of Señor +Whitely. What is it you do here? Is it now a prison, or +a hospital for unfortunates?”</p> +<p>“Only a hospital for you, General, and I trust a serviceable +one,” Kit hastened to assure him. “More of comfort +might have been yours had you sent a courier to permit +of preparation.”</p> +<p>“The service is of the best,” and Rotil pointed to +Isidro. “I’ve a mind to take him along, old as he is! +The boys told me he was the best medico this side the +range, and I believe it. As to courier,” and he grinned, +“I think you had one, if you had read the message right.”</p> +<p>“The surprises of the night were confusing, and a simple +man could not dare prophesy what might follow,” said +Kit, who had drawn up a chair and easily fell into Rotil’s +manner of jest. “But I fancy if that courier had known +who would follow after, he would have spent the night by +preference at Soledad.”</p> +<p>“Sure he would,––hell’s fire shrivel him! That shot of +his scraped a bone for me, and put my horse out of business. +For that reason we came on quietly, and these good +fellows listened at the window of Marto before they carried +me in. It is a good joke on me. My men rounded +up Perez and his German slaver at Soledad today––yesterday +now!––and when we rode up the little cañon +to be in at the finish what did we see but an escape with +a woman? Some word had come my way of a Perez +woman there, and only one thought was with me, that +the woman had helped Perez out of the trap as quickly +as he had ridden into it! After that there was nothing +to do but catch them again. No thought came to me that +Marto might be stealing a woman for himself, the fool! +Perez made better time than we figured on, and is a day +ahead. Marto meant to hide the woman and get back +in time. It’s a great joke that an Americano took the +woman from him. I hope she is worth the trouble,” +and he smiled, lifting his brows questioningly.</p> +<p>“So that was the ‘trap’ that Marto raved and stormed +to get back to?” remarked Kit. “I am still in the dark, +though there are some glimmers of light coming. If +Marto knew of that trap it explains–––”</p> +<p>“There were three others of my men on the Soledad +rancho, drawing pay from Perez. It is the first time +that fox came in when we could spread the net tight. To +get him at another place would not serve so well, for if +Soledad was the casket of our treasure, at Soledad we +make a three strike,––the cattle, the ammunition, and +Perez there to show the hiding place! It is the finish of +four months’ trailing, and is worth the time, and but for +Marto running loco over a girl, there would have been a +beautiful quiet finish at Soledad ranch house last night.”</p> +<p>“But, if your men have Perez–––”</p> +<p>“Like that!” and Rotil stretched out his open hand, +and closed it significantly, with a cruel smile in his black, +swift-glancing eyes. “This time there is no mistake. +For over a week men and stout mules have been going +in;––it is a <i>conducta</i> and it is to take the ammunition. +Well, señor, it is all well managed for me; also we have +much need of that ammunition for our own lads.”</p> +<p>“And it was done without a fight?” asked Kit. “I +have heard that the men picked for Soledad were not +the gentlest band Señor Perez could gather.”</p> +<p>“We had their number,” said Rotil placidly. “Good +men enough, but with their cartridges doctored what +could they do? I sent in two machine guns, and they +were not needed. A signal smoke went up to show me +all was well, and in another minute I heard the horses +of Marto and his girl. He must have started an hour +before Perez arrived. It is a trick of Don José’s that +no one can count on his engagements, but this time every +hill had its sentinels for his trail, not anything was left +to chance.”</p> +<p>“And your accident?” asked Kit politely.</p> +<p>“Oh, I was setting my own guards at every pass when +the runaway woman and men caught my ear and we took +a short cut down the little cañon to head them off. I +knew they would make for here, and that houses were not +plenty––” he smiled as if well satisfied with the knowledge. +“So, as this was a friendly house it would be a +safe bet to keep on coming.” He blew rings of smoke +from the cigarette, and chuckled.</p> +<p>“The boys will think a quicksand has swallowed us, +and no one will be sleeping there at Soledad.”</p> +<p>“Is there anything I can do to be of service,” asked +Kit. “I have a good room and a bed–––”</p> +<p>But the chuckling of Rotil broke into a frank laugh.</p> +<p>“No, señor!” he said with humorous decision, watching +Kit as he spoke, “already I have been told of your +great kindness in the giving of beds and rooms of comfort. +Why, with a house big enough, you could jail all +the district of Altar! Not my head for a noose!”</p> +<p>Kit laughed awkwardly at the jest which was based on +fact, but he met the keen eyes of Rotil very squarely.</p> +<p>“The Indians no doubt told you the reason the jail was +needed?” he said. “If a girl picks a man to take a trail +with, that is her own affair and not mine, but if a girl +with chains on her wrists has to watch men throwing dice +for her, and is forced to go with the winner––well––the +man who would not help set her free needs a dose of lead. +That is our American way, and no doubt is yours, señor.”</p> +<p>“Sure! Let a woman pick her own, if she can find +him!” agreed Rotil, and then he grinned again as he +looked at Kit. “And, señor, it is a safe bet that this +time she’ll find him!––you are a good big mark, not easily +hidden.”</p> +<p>The other men smiled and nodded at the humor of +their chief, and regarded Kit with appreciative sympathy. +It was most natural of course for them to suppose that +if he took a woman from Marto, he meant to win her +for himself.</p> +<p>Kit smiled back at them, and shook his head.</p> +<p>“No such luck for a poor vaquero,” he confessed. +“The lady is in mourning, and much grief. She is like +some saint of sorrows in a priest’s tale, and–––”</p> +<p>“The priests are liars, and invented hell,” stated Rotil.</p> +<p>“That may be, but sometimes we see sad women of +prayers who look like the saints the priests tell about,––and +to have such women sold by a gambler is not good +to hear of.”</p> +<p>No one spoke for a little. The eyes of Rotil closed +in a curious, contemptuous smile.</p> +<p>“You are young, boy,” he said at last, “and even we +who are not so young are often fooled by women. Trust +any woman of the camp rather than the devout saints +of the shrines. All are for market,––but you pay most +for the saint, and sorrow longest for her. And you never +forget that the shrine is empty!”</p> +<p>His tone was mocking and harsh, but Kit preferred to +ignore the sudden change of manner for which there +seemed no cause.</p> +<p>“Thanks for the warning, General, and no saints for +me!” he said good naturedly. “Now, is there any practical +thing I can do to add to your comfort here? Any +plans for tomorrow?”</p> +<p>“A man of mine is already on the way to Soledad, and +we will sleep before other plans are made. Not even +Marto will I see tonight, knowing well that you have +seen to his comfort!” and he chuckled again at the +thought of Marto in his luxurious trap. “My lads will +do guard duty in turn, and we sleep as we are.”</p> +<p>“Then, if I can be of no service–––”</p> +<p>“Tomorrow perhaps, not tonight, señor. Some sleep +will do us no harm.”</p> +<p>“Then good night, and good rest to you, General.”</p> +<p>“Many thanks, and good night, Don Pajarito.”</p> +<p>Kit laughed at that sally, and took himself out of +the presence. It was plain that the Deliverer had obtained +only the most favorable account of Kit as the friend of +Whitely. And as an American lad who sang songs, and +protected even women he did not know, he could not appear +formidable to Rotil’s band, and certainly not in need +of watching.</p> +<p>He looked back at them as the general turned on +his side to sleep, and one of his men blew out the two +candles, and stationed themselves outside the door. As +he noted the care they took in guarding him, and glanced +at the heavy doors and barred windows, he had an uncomfortable +thrill at the conviction that it would serve +as a very efficient prison for himself if his new friends, +the revolutionists, ever suspected he held the secret of +the red gold of El Alisal. It was a bit curious that the +famous lost mine of the old mission had never really been +“lost” at all!</p> +<p>Isidro, looking very tired, had preceded him from +the <i>sala</i>, as Kit supposed to go to bed. The day and night +had been trying to the old man, and already it was the +small hours of a new day.</p> +<p>There was a dim light in the room of Doña Jocasta, +but no sound. Tula was curled up on a blanket outside +her door like a young puppy on guard. He stooped and +touched her shoulder.</p> +<p>“The señora?” he whispered.</p> +<p>“Asleep, after tears, and a sad heart!” she replied. +“Valencia thanks the saints that at last she weeps,––the +beautiful sad one!”</p> +<p>“That is well; go you also to sleep. Your friends keep +guard tonight.”</p> +<p>She made no reply, and he passed on along the corridor +to his own rooms. The door was open, and he was +about to strike a light when a hand touched his arm. +He drew back, reaching for his gun.</p> +<p>“What the devil–––”</p> +<p>“Señor,” whispered Isidro, “make no light, and make +your words in whispers.”</p> +<p>“All right. What’s on your mind?”</p> +<p>“The señora and the Deliverer. Know you not, señor, +that she is sick with shame? It is so. No man has told +him who the woman is he calls yours. All are afraid, +señor. It is said that once Ramon Rotil was content +to be a simple man with a wife of his own choosing, +but luck was not his. It was the daughter of a priest in the +hills, and José Perez took her!”</p> +<p>“Ah-h!” breathed Kit. “If it should be this one–––”</p> +<p>“It is so,––she went like a dead woman at his voice, +but he does not know. How should he, when Don José +has women beyond count? Señor, my Valencia promised +Doña Jocasta you would save her from meeting the +general. That promise was better than a sleeping drink +of herbs to her. Now that the promise is made, how +will you make it good?”</p> +<p>“Holy smoke––also incense––also the pipe!” muttered +Kit in the dark. “If I live to get out of this muddle +I’ll swear off all entangling alliances forevermore! +Come into the kitchen where we can have a fire’s light. +I can’t think in this blackness.”</p> +<p>They made their way to the kitchen, and started a blaze +with mesquite bark. The old Indian cut off some strips +of burro <i>jerke</i> and threw them on the coals.</p> +<p>“That is better, it’s an occupation anyway,” conceded +Kit chewing with much relish. “Now, Isidro, man, you +must go on. You know the land best. How is one to +hide a woman of beauty from desert men?”</p> +<p>“She may have a plan,” suggested Isidro.</p> +<p>“Where is Clodomiro?” asked Kit, suddenly recalling +that the boy had disappeared. The old man did not +answer; he was very busy with the fire, and when the +question was repeated he shook his head.</p> +<p>“I do not know who went. If Tula did not go, then +Clodomiro was the one. They were talking about it.”</p> +<p>“Talking,––about what?”</p> +<p>“About the German. He is caught at Soledad, and +must not be let go, or let die. All the Indians of Palomitas +will be asking the Deliverer for that man.”</p> +<p>“Isidro, what is it they want to do with him?” asked +Kit, and the old Indian ceased fussing around with a stick +in the ashes, and looked up, sinister and reproving.</p> +<p>“That, señor, is a question a man does not ask. If +my woman tells me the women want a man for Judas, +I––get that man! I ask nothing.”</p> +<p>“Good God! And that child, Tula––” began Kit +in consternation, and old Isidro nodded his head.</p> +<p>“It is Tula who asked. She is proving she is a woman; +Clodomiro goes for her because that is his work. Your +white way would be a different way,––of an alcalde and +the word of many witness. Our women have their own +way, and no mistake is made.”</p> +<p>“But Rotil, the general,––he will not permit–––”</p> +<p>“Señor, for either mother or grandmother the general +had an Indian woman. He has the knowing of these +things. I think Tula gets the man they ask for. She is +wise, that child! A good woman will be chosen to have +speech with the Deliverer––when they come.”</p> +<p>“There is a thought in that,” mused Kit, glancing +sharply at the old man. “Do they make choice of some +wise woman, to be speaker for the others? And they +come here?”</p> +<p>“That is how it is, señor.”</p> +<p>“Then, what better way to hide Doña Jocasta than to +place her among Indian women who come in a band for +that task? Many women veil and shroud their heads in +black as she does. The music of her voice was dulled +when she spoke to Marto, and General Rotil had no +memory of having ever heard it. Think,––is there to be +found an old dress of your wife? Can it be done and +trust no one? Doña Jocasta is clever when her fear is +gone. With Tula away from that door the rest is easy. +The dawn is not so far off.”</p> +<p>“Dawn is the time the women of Palomitas will take +the road,” decided Isidro, “for by the rising time of +the sun the Deliverer has said that his rest here is ended, +and he goes on to Soledad where José Perez will have a +trembling heart of waiting.”</p> +<p>“Will they tell him whose trap he is caught in?”</p> +<p>“Who knows? The Deliverer has plans of his own +making. It was not for idleness he was out of sight +when the trap was sprung. He sleeps little, does Ramon +Rotil!”</p> +<p>In a mesquite tree by the cook house chickens began +to crow a desultory warning. And Isidro proceeded to +subtract stealthily a skirt and shawl from wooden pegs +set in the adobe wall where Valencia slept. She startled +him by stirring, and making weary inquiry as to whether +it was the time.</p> +<p>“Not yet, my treasure, that fighting cock of Clodomiro +crows only because of a temper, and not for day. It is I +will make the fire and set Maria to the grinding. Go you +to your sleep.”</p> +<p>Which Valencia was glad to do, while her holiday +wardrobe, a purple skirt bordered with green, and a deeply +fringed black shawl, was confiscated for the stranger +within their gates.</p> +<p>Thrusting the bundle back of an olla in the corridor +he touched Tula on the shoulder.</p> +<p>“The señor waits you in the kitchen,” he muttered in +the Indian tongue, and she arose without a word, and +went silent as a snake along the shadowy way.</p> +<p>It took courage for Isidro to enter alone the room of +Doña Jocasta, as that was the business of a woman. +But Kit had planned that, if discovered, the girl should +apparently have no accomplices. This would protect Tula +and Valencia should Rotil suspect treachery if an occupant +of the house should disappear. It would seem most +natural that a stolen woman would seek to escape homeward +when not guarded, and that was to serve as a reasonable +theory.</p> +<p>She slept with occasional shuddering sighs, as a child +after sobbing itself to sleep. That sad little sound gave +the old Indian confidence in his errand. It might mean +trouble, but she had dared trouble ere now. And there +could not be continual sorrow for one so beautiful, and +this might be the way out!</p> +<p>She woke with a startled cry as he shook her bed, but +it was quickly smothered as he whispered her name.</p> +<p>“It is best you go to pray in the chapel room, and +meet there the women of Palomitas. Others will go to +pray for a Judas; among many you may be hidden.”</p> +<p>She patted his arm, and arose in the dark, slipping on +her clothes. He gave her the skirt and she donned that +over her own dress. Her teeth were chattering with +nervous excitement, and when she had covered herself +with the great shawl, her hand went out gropingly to +him to lead her.</p> +<p>As they did not pass the door of the <i>sala</i>, no notice was +given them by Rotil’s guard. Mexican women were ever +at early prayers, or at the <i>metate</i> grinding meal for breakfast, +and that last possibility was ever welcome to men +on a trail.</p> +<p>In the kitchen Kit Rhodes was seeking information +concerning Clodomiro from Tula, asking if it was true he +would fetch the women of Palomitas to petition Rotil.</p> +<p>“Maybe so,” she conceded, “but that work is not for +a mind of a white man. Thus I am not telling you +Clodomiro is the one to go; his father was what you +call a priest,––but not of the church,” she said hastily, +“no, of other things.”</p> +<p>Looking at her elfin young face in the flickering light +of the hearth fire, he had a realization of vast vistas of +“other things” leading backward in her inherited tendencies, +the things known by his young comrade but +not for the mind of a white man,––not even for the man +whom Miguel had trusted with the secret of El Alisal. +Gold might occasionally belong to a very sacred shrine, +but even sacred gold was not held so close in sanctuary +as certain ceremonies dear to the Indian thought. Without +further words Kit Rhodes knew that there were +locked chambers in the brain of his young partner, and +to no white man would be granted the key.</p> +<p>“Well, since he has gone for them, there is nothing +to say, though the general may be ill pleased at visitors,” +hazarded Kit. “Also you and I know why we should +keep all the good will coming our way, and risk none of +it on experiments. Go you back to your rest since there +is not anything to be done. Clodomiro is at Palomitas +by now, and you may as well sleep while the dawn is +coming.”</p> +<p>She took the strip of roasted meat he offered her, and +went back to her blanket on the tiles at the door of the +now empty room.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='CHAPTER_XV_THE_JUDAS_PRAYER_AT_MESA_BLANCA' id='CHAPTER_XV_THE_JUDAS_PRAYER_AT_MESA_BLANCA'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> +<h3>THE “JUDAS” PRAYER AT MESA BLANCA</h3> +</div> +<p>Isidro was right when he said Ramon Rotil slept but +little, for the very edge of the dawn was scarce showing +in the east when he opened his eyes, moved his +wounded leg stiffly, and then lay there peering between +half-shut eyelids at the first tint of yellow in the sky.</p> +<p>“Chappo,” he said curtly, “look beyond through that +window. Is it a band of horses coming down the mesa +trail, or is it men?”</p> +<p>“Neither, my General, it is the women who are left +of the rancherias of Palomitas. They come to do a +prayer service at an old altar here. Once Mesa Blanca +was a great hacienda with a chapel for the peons, and +they like to come. It is a custom.”</p> +<p>“What saint’s day is this?”</p> +<p>“I am not wise enough, General, to remember all;––our +women tell us.”</p> +<p>“Um!––saint’s day unknown, and all a pueblo on a +trail to honor it! Call Fidelio.”</p> +<p>There was a whistle, a quick tread, and one of the men +of Palomitas stood in the door.</p> +<p>“Take two men and search every woman coming for +prayers––guns have been carried under <i>serapes</i>.”</p> +<p>“But, General–––”</p> +<p>“Search every woman,––even though your own +mother be of them!”</p> +<p>“General, my own mother is already here, and on +her knees beyond there in the altar room. They pray +for heart to ask of you their rights in Soledad.”</p> +<p>“That is some joke, and it is too early in the morning +for jokes with me. I’m too empty. What have Palomitas +women to do with rights in Soledad?”</p> +<p>“I have not been told,” said Fidelio evasively. “It is +a woman matter. But as to breakfast, it is making, and +the <i>tortillas</i> already baking for you.”</p> +<p>“Order all ready, and a long stirrup for that leg,” said +the general, moving it about experimentally. “It is not +so bad, but Marto can ride fasting to Soledad for giving +it to me.”</p> +<p>“But, my General, he asks–––”</p> +<p>“Who is he to ask? After yesterday, silence is best +for him. Take him along. I will decide later if he is of +further use––I may––need––a––man!”</p> +<p>There was something deliberately threatening in his +slow speech, and the guards exchanged glances. Without +doubt there would be executions at Soledad!</p> +<p>Rotil got off the cot awkwardly, but disdaining help +from the guards hopped to a chair against the wall between +the two windows.</p> +<p>Isidro came in with a bowl of water, and a much embroidered +towel for the use of the distinguished guest, +followed by a vaquero with smoking <i>tortillas</i>, and Tula +with coffee.</p> +<p>The general eyed the ornate drawnwork of the linen +with its cobweb fingers, and grinned.</p> +<p>“I am not a bridegroom this morning, <i>muchachita</i>, and +need no necktie of such fineness for my beauty. Bring +a plainer thing, or none.”</p> +<p>Tula’s eyes lit up with her brief smile of approval.</p> +<p>“I am telling them you are a man and want no child +things, my General,” she stated firmly, “and now it +proves itself! On the instant the right thing comes.”</p> +<p>She darted out the door, bumping into Rhodes, and +without even the customary “with your permission” ran +past him along the corridor, and, suddenly cautious, yet +bold, she lifted the latch of the guest room where she +had seen what looked to her like wealth of towels,––and +felt sure Doña Jocasta would not miss one of the plainest.</p> +<p>Stealthy as a cat she circled the bed, scarce daring to +glance at it lest the lady wake and look reproach on her.</p> +<p>But she stepped on some hard substance on the rug by +the wooden bench where the towels hung, and stooping, +she picked it up, a little wooden crucifix, once broken, and +then banded with silver to hold it solid. The silver was +beautifully wrought and very delicate, surely the possession +of a lady, and not a thing let fall by chance from the +pocket of Valencia.</p> +<p>Tula turned to lay it carefully on the pillow beside the +señora, and then stared at the vacant bed.</p> +<p>Only an instant she halted and thrust her hand under +the cover.</p> +<p>“Cold,––long time cold!” she muttered, and with towel +and crucifix she sped back to the <i>sala</i> where Rotil was +joking concerning the compliment she paid him.</p> +<p>“Don’t make dandies of yourselves if you would make +good with a woman,” he said. “Even that little crane +of a <i>muchacha</i> has brain,––and maybe heart for a man! +She has boy sense.”</p> +<p>Kit, seeing her dart into the guest room, stood in his +tracks watching for her to emerge. She gave him one +searching curious look as she sped past, and he realized +in a flash that his glance should have been elsewhere, +or at least more casual.</p> +<p>She delivered the towel and retired, abashed and silent +at the jests of the man she regarded with awe as the god-sent +deliverer of her people. Once in the corridor she +looked into Valencia’s room, then in the kitchen where +Valencia and Maria and other women were hastening +breakfast, and last she sought Clodomiro at the corral.</p> +<p>“Where did you take her, and how?” she demanded, +and the youth, tired with the endless rides and tasks of +two days and nights, was surly, and looked his impatience. +“She, and she, and she! Always women!” he grumbled. +“Have I not herded all of them from over the mesa at +your order? Is one making a slow trail, and must I go +herding again?”</p> +<p>She did not answer, but looked past him at the horses.</p> +<p>“Which did the señora ride from Soledad?” she inquired, +and Clodomiro pointed out a mare of shining +black, and also a dark bay ridden by Marto.</p> +<p>“Trust him to take the best of the saddle herd,” he +remarked. “Why have you come about it? Is the señora +wanting that black?”</p> +<p>“Maybe so; I was not told,” she answered evasively. +“But there is early breakfast, and it is best to get your +share before some quick task is set,––and this day there +are many tasks.”</p> +<p>The women were entering the portal at the rear, because +the chapel of the old hacienda was at the corner. +There was considerable commotion as Fidelio enforced +the order to search for arms;––if the Deliverer suspected +treachery, how could they hope for the sympathy they +came to beg for?</p> +<p>“Tell him there is nothing hidden under our rags but +hearts of sorrow,” said the mother of Fidelio. “Ask +that he come here where we kneel to give God thanks that +El Aleman is now in the power of the Deliverer.”</p> +<p>“General Rotil does not walk, and there is no room +for a horse in this door. Someone of you must speak +for the others, and go where he is.”</p> +<p>The kneeling women looked at each other with troubled +dark eyes.</p> +<p>“Valencia will be the best one,” said an old woman. +“She lost no one by the pale beast, but she knows us +every one. Marta, who was wife of Miguel, was always +mother and spoke for us to the padre, or anyone, but +Marta–––”</p> +<p>She paused and shook her head; some women wept. +All knew Marta was one who cried to them for vengeance.</p> +<p>“That is true,” said Valencia. “Marta was the best, +but the child of Marta is here, and knows more than we. +She has done much,––more than many women. I think +the daughter can speak best for the mother, and that the +Deliverer will listen.”</p> +<p>Tula had knelt like the others, facing a little shelf on +the wall where a carven saint was dimly illuminated by +the light of a candle. All the room was very dark, for +the dawn was yet but as a gray cloak over the world, and +no window let in light.</p> +<p>The girl stood up and turned toward Valencia.</p> +<p>“I will go,” she said, “because it is my work to go +when you speak, but the Deliverer will ask for older +tongues and I will come back to tell you that.”</p> +<p>Without hesitation she walked out of the door, and +the others bent their heads and there was the little click-click +of rosary beads, slipping through their fingers in +the dusk. Among the many black-shawled huddled figures +kneeling on the hard tiles, none noticed the one girl +in the corner where shadows were deepest, and whose +soft slender hands were muffled in Valencia’s fringes.</p> +<p>Kit stood until he noted that the searching for arms +did not include her, and then crossed the patio with +Fidelio on his way to the corrals. If the black mare of +Doña Jocasta could be gotten to the rear portal, together +with the few burros of the older women, she might follow +after unnoticed. The adobe wall at the back was over +ten feet high and would serve as a shield, and the entire +cavalcade would be a half mile away ere they came in +range from the plaza.</p> +<p>He planned to manage that the mare be there without +asking help of any Indian, and he thought he could do +it while the guard was having breakfast. It would be +easy for them to suppose that the black was his own. +Thus scheming for beauty astray in the desert, he chatted +with Fidelio concerning the pilgrimage of the Palomitas +women, and the possibility of Rotil’s patience with them, +when Tula crossed the patio hurriedly and entered the +door of the <i>sala</i>.</p> +<p>The general was finishing his breakfast, while Isidro +was crouched beside him rewinding the bandage after +a satisfactory inspection of the wound. The swelling was +not great, and Rotil, eating cheerfully, was congratulating +himself on having made a straight trail to the physician +of Mesa Blanca; it was worth a lost day to have +the healing started right.</p> +<p>He was in that complacent mood when Tula sped on +silent bare feet through the <i>sala</i> portal, and halted just +inside, erect against the wall, gazing at him.</p> +<p>“Hola! <i>Niña</i> who has the measure of a man! The +coffee was of the best. What errand is now yours?”</p> +<p>“Excellency, it is the errand too big for me, yet I am +the one sent with it. They send me because the mother +of me, and Anita, my sister, were in the slave drive south, +and the German and the Perez men carried whips and +beat the women on that trail.”</p> +<p>Her brave young heart seemed to creep up in her throat +and choke her at thought of those whips and the women +who were driven, for her voice trembled into silence, +and she stood there swallowing, her head bent, and her +hands crossed over her breast, and clasped firmly there +was the crucifix she had found in the guest room. Little +pagan that she was, she regarded it entirely as a fetish of +much potency with white people, and surely she needed +help of all gods when she spoke for the whole pueblo to +this man who had power over many lives.</p> +<p>Rotil stared at her, frowning and bewildered.</p> +<p>“What the devil,––” he began, but Isidro looked up at +him and nodded assent.</p> +<p>“It is a truth she is telling, Excellency. Her father +was Miguel, once major-domo of this rancho. He died +from their fight, and his women were taken.”</p> +<p>“Oh, yes, that!––it happens in many states. But this +German––who says the German and Perez were the +men to do it?”</p> +<p>“I, Tula, child of Miguel, say it,” stated the girl. +“With my eyes I saw him,––with my ears I heard the +sister call out his name. The name was Don Adolf. +Over his face was tied a long beard, so! But it was the +man,––the friend of Don José Perez of Soledad; all are +knowing that. He is now your man, and the women ask +for him.”</p> +<p>“What women?”</p> +<p>“All the women of Palomitas. On their knees in the +chapel they make prayers. Excellency, it robs you of +nothing that you give them a Judas for Holy Week. I +am sent to ask that of the Deliverer.”</p> +<p>She slid down to her knees on the tiles, and looked up +at him.</p> +<p>He stared at her, frowning and eyeing her intently, +then chuckled, and grinned at the others.</p> +<p>“Did I not tell you she had the heart of a boy? And +now you see it! Get up off your knees, <i>chiquita</i>. Why +should you want a Judas? It is a sweetheart I must find +for you instead.”</p> +<p>“I am not getting up,” said Tula stolidly. “I am kneeling +before you, my General. See! I pray to you on the +tiles for that Judas. All the women are praying. Also +the old women have made medicine to send El Aleman +once more on this trail, and see you,––it has come to pass! +You have him in your trap, but he is ours. Excellency, +come once and see all the women on their knees before +the saint as I am here by you. We make prayers for +one thing:––the Judas for our holy day!”</p> +<p>“You young devil!” he grinned. “I wish you were +a boy. Here, you men help me, or get me a crutch. I +will see these women on their knees, and if you don’t +lie–––”</p> +<p>With the help of Fidelio and a cane, he started very +well, and nodded to Kit.</p> +<p>“You pick well, amigo,” he observed. “She is a wildcat, +and of interest. Come you and see. <i>Por Dios!</i> +I’ve seen a crucifixion of the Penitentes and helped dig +the hidden grave. Also I have heard of the ‘Judas’ +death on Holy Friday, but never before this has so young +a woman creature picked a man for it,––a man alive! +Courage of the devil!”</p> +<p>Tula arose, and went before them across the plaza to +the door of the chapel. Kit knew this was the right moment +for him to disappear and get the black mare back +of the wall, but Rotil kept chuckling to him over the +ungirlish request, and so pointedly included him in the +party that there seemed no excuse available for absenting +himself.</p> +<p>A flush of rose swept upward to the zenith heralding +the sun, but in the adobe room, with its door to the west, +no light came, except by dim reflection, and as Tula entered +and the men stood at the threshold, they blocked +the doorway of even that reflection, and the candle at the +saint’s shrine shone dimly over the bent heads of the +kneeling women.</p> +<p>Rotil stood looking about questioningly; he had not +expected to see so many. Then at the sound of the click +of the prayer beads, some recollection of some past caused +him to automatically remove his wide-brimmed hat.</p> +<p>“Mothers,” said Tula quietly, “the Deliverer has +come.”</p> +<p>There was a half-frightened gasp, and dark faces +turned toward the door.</p> +<p>“He comes as I told you, because I am no one by myself, +and he could not know I was sent by you. I am +not anyone among people, and he does not believe. Only +people of importance should speak with a soldier who +is a general.”</p> +<p>“No, <i>por Dios</i>, my boy, you speak well!” said Rotil, +clapping his hand on her shoulder, “but your years are +not many and it cannot be you know the thing you ask +for.”</p> +<p>“I know it,” asserted Tula with finality.</p> +<p>An old woman got up stiffly, and came towards him. +“We are very poor, yet even our children are robbed +from us––that is why we pray. Don Ramon, your +mother was simple as we, and had heart for the poor. +Our lives are wasted for the masters, and our women +children are stolen for the sons of masters. That is done, +and we wish they may find ways to kill themselves on +the trail. But the man who drove them with whips is +now your man––and we mothers ask him of you.”</p> +<p>The wizened old creature trembled as she spoke, and +scarce lifted her eyes. She made effort to speak further, +but words failed, and she slipped to her knees and the +beads slid from her nervous fingers to the tiles. She was +very old, and she had come fasting across the mesa in +the chill before the dawn; her two grandchildren had +been driven south with the slaves––one had been a bride +but a month––and they killed her man as they took +her.</p> +<p>Valencia came to her and wiped the tears from her +cheeks, patting her on the back as one would soothe a +child, and then she looked at Rotil, nodding her head +meaningly, and spoke.</p> +<p>“It is all true as Tia Tomasa is saying, señor. Her +children are gone, and this child of Capitan Miguel +knows well what she asks for. The days of the sorrows +of Jesus are coming soon, and the Judas we want for +that day of the days will not be made of straw to be +bound on the wild bull’s back, and hung when the ride +is over. No, señor, we know the Judas asked of you +by this daughter of Miguel;––it is the pale beast called +El Aleman. For many, many days have we made prayers +like this, before every shrine, that the saints would send +him again to our valley. You, señor, have brought answer +to that prayer. You have him trapped, but he +belongs only to us women. The saints listened to us, +and you are in it. Men often are in prayers like that, and +have no knowing of it, señor.”</p> +<p>Kit listened in amazement to this account of prayers +to Mexican saints for a Judas to hang on Good Friday! +After four centuries of foreign priesthood, and foreign +saints on the shrines, the mental effect on the aborigines +had not risen above crucifixion occasionally on some +proxy for their supreme earthly god, or mad orgies of +vengeance on a proxy for Judas. The great drama of +Calvary had taught them only new forms of torture and +the certainty that vengeance was a debt to be paid. Conrad +was to them the pale beast whipping women into +slavery,––and as supreme traitor to human things must +be given a Judas death!</p> +<p>He shivered as he listened, and looked at the eyes of +women staring out of the dusk for the answer to their +prayers.</p> +<p>“<i>Por Dios!</i>” muttered Rotil, half turning to Kit, yet +losing nothing of the pleading strained faces. “Does +your head catch all of that, señor? Can’t women beat +hell? And women breed us all! What’s the answer?”</p> +<p>“In this case it’s up to you, General,” replied Kit. +“I’m glad the responsibility is not mine. Even as it is, +women who look like these are likely to walk through my +dreams for many a night!”</p> +<p>Rotil gloomed at them, puzzled, frowning, and at times +the flicker of a doubtful smile would change his face +without lighting it. No one moved or spoke.</p> +<p>“Here!” he said at last, “this child and two women +have spoken, but there are over twenty of you here. +Three out of twenty is no vote––hold up your hands. +Come, don’t hang back, or you won’t get Judas! There +are no priests here, and no spies for priests, and there +have been words enough. Show your hands!”</p> +<p>Kit looked back into the darkest corner, wondering +what the vote of Jocasta would be; her mother was said +to be Indian, or half Indian, and her hatred of the German +would help her understand these darker tribal sisters.</p> +<p>But in the many lifted hands her own could not be seen +and he felt curiously relieved, though it was no affair +of his, and one vote either way would weigh nothing.</p> +<p>Rotil looked at the lifted hands, and grunted.</p> +<p>“You win, <i>muchacha</i>,” he said to Tula. “I think +you’re the devil, and it’s you made the women talk. You +can come along to Soledad and fetch their Judas back to +them.”</p> +<p>“My thanks to you, and my service, Excellency,” said +Tula. “I will go and be glad that I go for that. But I +swear by the Body and Blood, and I swear on this, +that I only pay the debt of my people to El Aleman.”</p> +<p>She was helping old Tia Tomasa to her feet with one +hand, and held up the little crucifix to him with the other. +She had noted that white people make oath on a cross +when they want to be believed, and she wished with all +her pagan heart to be believed by this man who had +been a sort of legendary hero to her many months before +she had seen his face, or dared hope he would ever grant +favor to her––Tula!</p> +<p>But whatever effect she hoped to secure by emphasizing +her oath on the Christian symbol, she was not prepared +for the rough grasp on her arm, or the harsh command +of his voice.</p> +<p>“Holy God!” he growled, “why do you thrust that +in my face,––you?”</p> +<p>“Excellency––I––” began Tula, but he shook her +as a cat would shake a mouse.</p> +<p>“Answer me! How comes it in your hands?”</p> +<p>“I found it, señor––and did no harm.”</p> +<p>“When? Where?”</p> +<p>“Why––I––I–––”</p> +<p>A note of warning flashed from some wireless across +the girl’s mind, for it was no little thing by which Ramon +Rotil had suddenly become a growling tiger with his +hand near her throat.</p> +<p>“Where?” he repeated.</p> +<p>“On a trail, señor.”</p> +<p>“When?”</p> +<p>“Three days ago.”</p> +<p>“Where?”</p> +<p>“At the place where the Soledad trail leaves that of +Mesa Blanca.”</p> +<p>Rotil stared at her, and then turned to Kit.</p> +<p>“Do you know of this thing?”</p> +<p>“No, General, I don’t,” he said honestly enough, “but +these women have many such–––”</p> +<p>“No,” contradicted Rotil, “they haven’t,––there’s a +difference.”</p> +<p>He had seized the crucifix and held it, while he scanned +the faces, and then brought his gaze back to Tula.</p> +<p>“You will show me that place, and prove yourself, +<i>muchacha</i>,” he said grimly. “There’s something––something––Do +you know, you damned young crane, +that I can have my men shoot you against the wall out +there if you lie to me?”</p> +<p>“Yes, my General, but it is better to give lead to +enemies––and not friends. Also a knife is cheaper.”</p> +<p>“Silence! or you may get both!” he growled. “Here, +look well––you––all of you! Have any of you but this +creature seen it?”</p> +<p>He held it out, and Valencia, who was nearest, caught +sight of it.</p> +<p>“Ai! Tula!” she said in reproof, “you to take that +when the poor–––”</p> +<p>Tula flashed one killing look at her, and Valencia +stopped dead, and turned an ashen gray, and Rotil +watching!</p> +<p>“Ah––ha! I thought it!” he jeered. “Now whose +trick is it to make me a fool? Come, sift this thing! +You,” to Valencia, “have looked on this before. Whose +is it?”</p> +<p>“Señor––I–––”</p> +<p>“So!” he said with a sort of growl in the voice, “something +chokes you? Look at me, not at the others! Also +listen:––if a lie is told to me, every liar here will go before +a firing squad. Whose is this crucifix?”</p> +<p>Valencia’s eyes looked sorrow on Tula, still under his +hand, and then on the wood and silver thing held up before +her. The sun was just rolling hot and red above +the mountains, and Rotil’s shaggy head was outlined in a +sort of curious radiance as the light struck the white +wall across the patio at his back. Even the silver of the +crucifix caught a glimmer of it, and to Valencia he +looked like the warrior padres of whom her grandmother +used to tell, who would thunder hell’s terrors on the +frightened neophytes until the bravest would grovel in +the dust and do penances unbelievable.</p> +<p>That commanding picture came between her and +Rotil,––the outlaw and soldier and patriot. She stumbled +forward with a pleading gesture towards Tula.</p> +<p>“Excellency, the child does no harm. She is a stranger +in the house. She has picked it up perhaps when lost by +the señora, and–––”</p> +<p>“What señora?”</p> +<p>“She who is most sorrowful guest here, Excellency, +and her arms still bruised from the iron chains of El +Aleman.”</p> +<p>“And her name?”</p> +<p>“Excellency, it is the woman saved from your man +by the Americano señor here beside you. And,––she +asked to be nameless while sheltered at Mesa Blanca.”</p> +<p>“But not to me! So this is a game between you +two––” and he looked from Tula to Kit with sinister +threat in his eyes, “it is then <i>your</i> woman who–––”</p> +<p>“Ramon––no!” said a voice from the far shadows, +and the black shawled figure stood erect and cast off the +muffling disguise. Her pale face shone like a star above +all the kneeling Indians.</p> +<p>“God of heaven!” he muttered, and his hand fell from +the shoulder of Tula. “You––<i>you</i> are one of the women +who knelt here for vengeance?”</p> +<p>“For justice,” she said, “but I was here for a reason +different;––it was a place to hide. No one helped me, let +the child go! Give these women what they ask or deny +them, but send them away. To them I am nameless and +unknown. You can see that even my presence is a thing +of fear to them,––let them go!”</p> +<p>He stared at her across those frightened dark faces. It +was true they drew away from her in terror; her sudden +uprising was as if she had materialized from the cold +tiles of the chapel floor. Kit noted that their startled +eyes were wide with awe, and knew that they also felt +they were gazing on a beauty akin to that of the pictured +saints. Even the glimmer of the candle touching her +perfect cheek and brow added to the unearthly appearance +there in the shadows.</p> +<p>But Ramon Rotil gazed at her across a wider space +than that marked by the kneeling Indian women! Four +years were bridged by that look, and where the others saw +a pale Madonna, he saw a barefooted child weaving +flowers of the mountain for a shrine where poverty prevented +a candle.</p> +<p>He had sold maize to buy candles, and shoes for her +feet, and she had given him the little brown wooden +crucifix.</p> +<p>Once in the height of her reign of beauty in the +hacienda of Perez, a ragged brown boy from the hills +had lain in wait for her under the oleanders, and thrust +a tightly bound package of corn husks into her hand, and +her maid regarded with amazement the broken fragments +of a wooden cross so poor and cheap that even the most +poverty stricken of the peons could own one, and her +wonder was great that her mistress wept over the broken +pieces and strove to fit them together again.</p> +<p>And now it lay in his hand, bound and framed in silver +wires delicately wrought.</p> +<p>He had traveled farther than she during the years between, +and the memento of the past made him know it.</p> +<p>“Ramon, let them go!” she repeated with gentle appeal.</p> +<p>“Yes,” he said, taking a deep breath as if rousing from +a trance, “that is best. Child––see to it, and have your +way. Señor, will you arrange that the señora has what +comfort there is here? Our horses wait, and work +waits–––”</p> +<p>He saw Valencia go with protecting, outstretched +hands to Jocasta, and turned away.</p> +<p>Jocasta never moved. To save her friends from his +rage she had spoken, and to her the big moment of +humiliation dreamed of and feared had come and been +lived through. He had seen her on her knees among +all that brown herd made up of such women as his mother +and her mother had been. From mistress of a palace on +an estate large as many European kingdoms she had become +an outcast with marks of fetters on her arms, while +he was knelt to as a god by the simple people of the +ranges, and held power of life and death over a wide +land!</p> +<p>Kit could not even guess at all the tempestuous background +of the drama enacted there in the chill of the +chapel at sunrise, but the clash of those two outlaw souls +suddenly on guard before each other, thrilled him by the +unexpected. Rotil, profane, ruthless, and jeering, had +suddenly grown still before the face of a woman from +whom he turned away.</p> +<p>“Late! An hour late!” he grumbled, hobbling back to +the plaza. “What did I tell you? Hell of women! +Well, your damned little crane got what she started after––huh! +Why did she lie?”</p> +<p>“Well, you know, General,” said Kit doubtfully, “that +the enmity between you and José Perez is no secret. Even +the children talk of it, and wish success to you––I’ve +heard that one do it! Doña Jocasta is of a Perez household, +so it was supposed you would make prisoner +anyone of their group. And Tula––well, I reckon Tula +listened last night to some rather hard things the señora +has lived through at Soledad, and knew she would rather +die here than go back there.”</p> +<p>Kit realized he was on delicate ground when trying +to explain any of the actions of any of the black and +tan group to each other, but he sought the safest way out, +and drew a breath of relief at his success, for Rotil listened +closely, nodding assent, yet frowning in some perplexity.</p> +<p>“Um! what does that mean,––rather die than go +back?” he demanded. “No one has told me why the +lady has come to Mesa Blanca, or what she is doing +here. I don’t see––What the devil ails you?”</p> +<p>For Kit stared at him incredulous, and whistled softly.</p> +<p>“Haven’t you got it <i>yet</i>?” he asked. “Last night you +joked about a girl Marto stole, and we stole from him +again. Don’t you realize now who that girl is?”</p> +<p>“<i>Jocasta!</i>”</p> +<p>It was the first time he had uttered her name and there +was a low terrible note in his voice, half choked by +smothered rage.</p> +<p>“But how could Marto,––or why should––” he began +and then halted, checked by various conflicting facts, and +stared frowningly at Rhodes who again strove to explain +that of which he had little knowledge.</p> +<p>“General, I reckon Marto was square to your interests +about everything but the woman Perez and Conrad sent +north into the desert, and it was Marto’s job to see that +she never left it alive. Evidently he did not report that +extra task to you, for he meant to save the woman for +himself. But even at that, General, you’ve got to give +him credit. He says she bewitched him, and he couldn’t +kill her, and he wouldn’t let the others have her. Also +he risked a whale of a beating up, and some lead souvenirs, +in trying to save her, even if it was for himself. +So you see, Marto was only extra human, and is a good +man. His heart’s about broke to think he failed you, and +I’ll bet he wouldn’t fail you again in a thousand years!”</p> +<p>“Yes, you have the right of that,” agreed Rotil. “I +did not know; I don’t know yet what this means about +Perez and––and–––”</p> +<p>“None of us do, General,” stated Kit. “I heard +Valencia say it must be something only a confessor could +know,––but it must be rather awful at that! She was +started north like an insane criminal, hidden and in chains. +She explains nothing, but General, you have now the two +men at Soledad who made the plan, and you have here +Marto who was their tool––and perhaps––at Soledad––” +he paused questioning.</p> +<p>“Sure! that is what will be done,” decided Rotil. “See +to it, you, after we are gone. Bring Doña Jocasta to +Soledad with as much show of respect as can be mustered +in a poor land, your girl and Isidro’s wife to go +along, and any comforts you can find. Yes, that is the +best! Some way we will get to the bottom of this well. +She must know a lot if they did not dare let her live, and +Marto––well, you make a good talk for him, straight +too––Marto will go with me. Tell no one anything. +Make your own plans. By sunset I will have time for +this mystery of the chains of Doña Jocasta. Be there at +Soledad by sunset.”</p> +<p>“At your command, General.”</p> +<p>Then Chappo and Fidelio helped their leader into the +saddle. Marto, crestfallen and silently anticipating the +worst, was led out next; a <i>reata</i> passed around the saddle +horn and circling his waist was fastened back of the +saddle. His hands were free to guide his horse, but +Chappo, with a wicked looking gun and three full cartridge +belts, rode a few paces back of him to see that he +made no forbidden use of them.</p> +<p>Kit watched them ride east while the long line of +women of Palomitas took up the trail over the mesa to +the north. Their high notes of a song came back to +him,––one of those wailing chants of a score of verses +dear to the Mexican heart. In any other place he would +have deemed it a funeral dirge with variations, but with +Indian women at sunrise it meant tuneful content.</p> +<p>Kit listened with a shiver. Because of his own vagrant +airs they had called him “El Pajarito” when he first +drifted south over Mexican trails,––but happy erratic +tunefulness was smothered for him temporarily. Over +the vast land of riches, smiling in the sun, there brooded +the threats of Indian gods chained, inarticulate, reaching +out in unexpected ways for expression through the dusky +devotees at hidden shrines. The fact that occasionally +they found expression through some perverted fragment +from an imported cult was a gruesome joke on the importers. +But under the eagle of Mexico, whose wide +wings were used as shield by the German vultures across +seas, jokes were not popular. German educators and +foreign priests with Austrian affiliations, saw to that. +The spiritual harvest in Mexico was not always what the +planters anticipated,––for curious crops sprung up in +wild corners of the land, as Indian grains wrapped in a +mummy’s robe spring to life under methods of alien culturists.</p> +<p>Vague drifting thoughts like this followed Kit’s shiver +of repulsion at that Indian joy song over the promise of a +veritable live Judas. On him they could wreak a personal +vengeance, and go honestly to confession in some +future day, with the conviction that they had, by the +sufferings they could individually and collectively invent +for Judas, in some vague but laudable manner mitigated +the sufferings of a white god far away whose tribulations +were dwelt upon much by the foreign priesthood.</p> +<p>He sensed this without analysis, for his was not the +analytical mind. What brain Kit had was fairly well occupied +by the fact that his own devoted partner was the +moving spirit of that damnable pagan <i>Come, all ye</i>––drifting +back to him from the glorified mesa, flushed +golden now by the full sun.</p> +<p>Clodomiro came wearily up from the corral. The boy +had gone without sleep or rest until his eyes were heavy +and his movements listless. Like the women of Palomitas +he also had worked overtime at the call of Tula, and Kit +wondered at the concerted activity––no one had held +back or blundered.</p> +<p>“Clodomiro,” he said passing the lad a cigarette and +rolling one for himself from good new tobacco secured +from Fidelio, “how comes it that even the women of +years come in the night for prayers when you ride for +them? Do they give heed to any boy who calls?”</p> +<p>Clodomiro gave thanks for the cigarette, but was too +well bred to light it in the presence of an elder or a +superior. He smelled it with pleasure, thrust it over his +ear and regarded Rhodes with perfectly friendly and +apparently sleepy black eyes.</p> +<p>“Not always, señor, but when Tula sends the call of +Miguel, all are surely coming, and also making the +prayer.”</p> +<p>“The call of Miguel? Why––Miguel is dead.”</p> +<p>“That is true, señor, but he was head man, and he had +words of power, also the old Indians listened. Now Tula +has the words, and as you see,––the words are still alive! +I am not knowing what they mean,––the words,––but +when Tula tells me, I take them.”</p> +<p>“<i>O Tippecanoe, and Tyler too!</i>” hummed Kit studying +the boy. “What’s in a word? Do you mean that +you take a trail to carry words you don’t understand, +because a girl younger than you tells you to?”</p> +<p>The boy nodded indifferently.</p> +<p>“Yes, señor, it is my work when it is words of old +prayer, and Tula is sending them. It would be bad not to +go, a quicksand would surely catch my horse, or I might +die from the bite of a <i>sorrilla rabioso</i>, or evil ghosts +might lure me into wide <i>medanos</i> where I would seek +trails forever, and find only my own! Words can do +that on a man! and Tula has the words now.”</p> +<p>“Indeed! That’s a comfortable chum to have around––not! +And have you no fear?”</p> +<p>“Not so much. I am very good,” stated Clodomiro +virtuously. “Some day maybe I take her for my woman;––her +clan talks about it now. She has almost +enough age, and––you see!”</p> +<p>He directed the attention of Rhodes to the strips of red +and green and pink calico banding his arms, their fluttering +ends very decorative when he moved swiftly.</p> +<p>“Oh, yes, I’ve been admiring them. Very pretty,” +said Kit amicably, not knowing the significance of it, but +conscious of the wide range one might cover in a few +minutes of simple Sonora ranch life. From the tragic +and weird to the childishly inane was but a step.</p> +<p>Clodomiro passed on to the kitchen, and Kit smoked his +cigarette and paced the outer corridor, striving for plans +to move forward with his own interests, and employ the +same time and the same trail for the task set by Ramon +Rotil.</p> +<p>Rotil had stated that the escort of Doña Jocasta must +be as complete as could be arranged. This meant a dueña +and a maid at least, and as he had bidden Tula have her +way with her “Judas,” it surely meant that Tula must +go to Soledad. Very well so far, and as Rotil would +certainly not question the extent of the outfit taken along, +why not include any trifles Tula and he chanced to care +for? He remembered also that there were some scattered +belongings of the Whitely’s left behind in the haste +of departure. Well, a few mule loads would be a neighborly +gift to take north when he crossed the border, and +Soledad was nearer the border!</p> +<p>It arranged itself very well indeed, and as Tula emerged +from the patio smoothing out an old newspaper fragment +discarded by Fidelio, and chewing <i>chica</i> given her +by Clodomiro, he hailed her with joy.</p> +<p>“Blessed Indian Angel,” he remarked appreciatively, +“you greased the toboggan for several kinds of hell for +us this day of our salvation, but your jinx was on the +job, and turned the trick our way! Do you know you are +the greatest little mascot ever held in captivity?”</p> +<p>But Tula didn’t know what “mascot” meant, and was +very much occupied with the advertisement of a suit and +cloak house in the old Nogales paper in which some trader +at the railroad had wrapped Fidelio’s tobacco. It had +the picture of an alluring lady in a dress of much material +slipping from the shoulders and dragging around +the feet. To the aboriginal mind that seemed a very great +waste, for woven material was hard to come by in the +desert.</p> +<p>She attempted an inquiry concerning that wastefulness +of Americanas, but got no satisfactory reply. Kit took +the tattered old paper from her hand, and turned it over +because of the face of Singleton staring at him from +the other side of the page. It was the account of the +inquest, and in the endeavor to add interest the local reporters +had written up a column concerning Singleton’s +quarrel with the range boss, Rhodes,––and the mysterious +disappearance of the latter across the border!</p> +<p>There was sympathetic mention made of Miss Wilfreda +Bernard, heiress of Granados, and appreciative mention +of the efficient manager, Conrad, who had offered all +possible assistance to the authorities in the sad affair. +The general expression of the article was regret that the +present situation along the border prevented further investigation +concerning Rhodes. The said Rhodes appeared +to be a stranger in the locality, and had been +engaged by the victim of the crime despite the objections +of Manager Conrad.</p> +<p>There followed the usual praise and list of virtues of +the dead man, together with reference to the illustrious +Spanish pioneer family from whom his wife had been +descended. It was the first time Kit had been aware of +the importance of Billie’s genealogy, and remembering +the generally accepted estimates of Spanish pride, he muttered +something about a “rose leaf princess, and a +Tennessee hill-billy!”</p> +<p>“It’s some jolt, two of them!” he conceded.</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'><i>Twinkle, twinkle little star,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>How I wonder what you are!</i></p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>“They say bunches of stars and planets get on a jamboree +and cross each other’s trail at times, and that our +days are rough or smooth according to their tantrums. +Wish I knew the name of the luminary raising hell for +me this morning! It must be doing a highland fling with +a full moon, and I’m being plunked by every scattered +spark!”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVI_THE_SECRET_OF_SOLEDAD_CHAPEL' id='CHAPTER_XVI_THE_SECRET_OF_SOLEDAD_CHAPEL'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> +<h3>THE SECRET OF SOLEDAD CHAPEL</h3> +</div> +<p>It took considerable persuasion to prevail upon Doña +Jocasta that a return to Soledad would be of any advantage +to anybody. To her it was a place fearful and +accursed.</p> +<p>“But, señora, a padre who sought to be of service to +you is still there, a prisoner. In the warring of those +wild men who will speak for him? The men of Soledad +would have killed him but for their superstitions, and +Rotil is notorious for his dislike of priests.”</p> +<p>“I know,” she murmured sadly. “There are some +good ones, but he will never believe. In his scales the bad +ones weigh them down.”</p> +<p>“But this one at Soledad?”</p> +<p>“Ah, yes, señor, he spoke for me,––Padre Andreas.”</p> +<p>“And a prisoner because of you?”</p> +<p>“That is true. You do well to remind me of that. +My own sorrows sink me in selfishness, and it is a +good friend who shows me my duty. Yes, we will go. +God only knows what is in the heart of Ramon Rotil that +he wishes it, but that which he says is law today wherever +his men ride, and I want no more sorrow in the +world because of me. We will go.”</p> +<p>Valencia had gone placidly about preparations for the +journey from the moment Kit had expressed the will of +the Deliverer. To hesitate when he spoke seemed a foolish +thing, for in the end he always did the thing he willed, +and to form part of the escort for Doña Jocasta filled +her with pride. She approved promptly the suggestion +that certain bed and table furnishings go to Soledad for +use of the señora, and later be carried north to Mrs. +Whitely, whose property they were.</p> +<p>As capitan of the outfit, Kit bade her lay out all such +additions to their state and comfort, and he would personally +make all packs and decide what animals, chests, +or provisions could be taken.</p> +<p>This was easier managed than he dared hope. Clodomiro +rode after mules and returned with Benito and +Mariano at his heels, both joyously content to leave the +planting of fields and offer their young lives to the army +of the Deliverer. Isidro was busy with the duties of the +ranch stock, and there was only Tula to see bags of +nuggets distributed where they would be least noticed +among the linen, Indian rugs, baskets and such family +possessions easiest carried to their owner.</p> +<p>He marked the packs to be opened, and Tula, watching, +did not need to be told.</p> +<p>The emotions of the night and the uncertainty of what +lay ahead left Rhodes and Doña Jocasta rather silent +as they took the trail to the gruesome old hacienda called +by Doña Jocasta so fearful and accursed. Many miles +went by with only an occasional word of warning between +them where the way was bad, or a word of command +for the animals following.</p> +<p>“In the night I rode without fear where I dare not +look in the sunlight,” said Jocasta drawing back from a +narrow ledge where stones slipped under the hoofs of +the horses to fall a hundred feet below in a dry cañon.</p> +<p>“Yes, señora, the night was kind to all of us,” returned +Kit politely. “Even the accidents worked for +good except for the pain to you.”</p> +<p>“That is but little, and my shoulder of no use to anyone. +General Rotil is very different,––a wound to a +soldier means loss of time. It is well that shot found him +among friends for it is said that when a wolf has wounds +the pack unites to tear him to pieces, and there are +many,––many pesos offered to the traitor who will trap +Rotil by any lucky accident.”</p> +<p>“Yet he took no special care at Mesa Blanca.”</p> +<p>“Who knows? He brought with him only men of the +district as guard. Be sure they knew every hidden trail, +and every family. Ramon Rotil is a coyote for the knowing +of traps.”</p> +<p>She spoke as all Altar spoke, with a certain pride in +the ability of the man she had known as a burro driver +of the sierras. For three years he had been an outlaw +with a price on his head, and as a rebel general the price +had doubled many times.</p> +<p>“With so many poor, how comes it that no informer +has been found? The reward would be riches untold +to a poor <i>paisano</i>.”</p> +<p>“It might be to his widow,” said Doña Jocasta, “but +no sons of his, and no brothers would be left alive.”</p> +<p>“True. I reckon the friends of Rotil would see to +that! Faithful hearts are the ones he picks for comrades. +I heard an old-timer say the Deliverer has that gift.”</p> +<p>She looked at him quickly, and away again, and went +silent. He wondered if it was true that there had been +love between these two, and she had been unfaithful. +Love and Doña Jocasta were fruitful themes for the +imagination of any man.</p> +<p>Valencia was having the great adventure of her life +in her journey to Soledad, and she chattered to Tula as a +maiden going to a marriage. Three people illustrious +in her small world were at once to be centered on the +stage of war before her eyes. She told Tula it was a +thing to make songs of,––the two men and the most +beautiful woman!</p> +<p>When they emerged from the cañon into the wide +spreading plain, with the sierras looming high and blue +beyond, the eyes of Kit and Tula met, and then turned +toward their own little camp in the lap of the mother +range. All was flat blue against the sky there, and no +indications of cañon or gulch or pocket discernible. Even +as they drew nearer to the hacienda, and Kit surreptitiously +used the precious field glasses, thus far concealed +from all new friends of the desert, he found difficulty in +locating their hill of the treasure, and realized that their +fears of discovery in the little cañon had been groundless. +In the far-away time when the giant aliso had flourished +there by the cañon stream, its height might have served +to mark the special ravine where it grew, but the lightning +sent by pagan gods had annihilated that landmark forever, +and there was no other.</p> +<p>The glint of tears shone in the eyes of Tula, and she +rode with downcast eyes, crooning a vagrant Indian air +in which there were bird calls, and a whimpering long-drawn +tremulo of a baby coyote caught in a trap, a weird +ungodly improvisation to hear even with the shining sun +warming the world.</p> +<p>Kit concluded she was sending her brand of harmony +to Miguel and the ghosts on guard over the hidden +trail.––And he rather wished she would stop it!</p> +<p>Even the chatter of Valencia grew silent under the spell +of the girl’s gruesome intonings,––ill music for her entrance +to a new portal of adventure.</p> +<p>“It sounds of death,” murmured Doña Jocasta, and +made the sign of the cross. “The saints send that the +soul to go next has made peace with God! See, señor, +we are truly crossing a place of death as she sings. That +beautiful valley of the green border is the <i>sumidero</i>,––the +quicksands from hidden springs somewhere above,” +and she pointed to the blue sierras. “I think that is the +grave José meant for me at Soledad.”</p> +<p>“Nice cheerful end of the trail––not!” gloomed Kit +strictly to himself. “That little imp is whining of trouble +like some be-deviled prophetess.”</p> +<p>Afterwards he remembered that thought, and wished +he could forget!</p> +<p>Blue shadows stretched eastward across the wide zacatan +meadows, and the hacienda on the far mesa, with its +white and cream adobe walls, shone opal-like in the +lavender haze of the setting sun.</p> +<p>Kit Rhodes had timed the trip well and according to +instruction of the general, but was a bit surprised to find +that his little cavalcade was merely part of a more elaborate +plan arranged for sunset at Soledad.</p> +<p>A double line of horsemen rode out from the hacienda +to meet them, a rather formidable reception committee +as they filed in soldier-like formation over the three miles +of yellow and green of the spring growths, and halted +where the glint of water shone in a dam filled from wells +above.</p> +<p>Their officer saluted and rode forward, his hat in his +hand as he bowed before Doña Jocasta.</p> +<p>“General Rotil presents to you his compliments, +Señora Perez, and sends his guard as a mark of respect +when you are pleased to ride once more across your own +lands.”</p> +<p>“My thanks are without words, señor. I appreciate +the honor shown to me. My generalissimo will answer +for me.”</p> +<p>She indicated Kit with a wan smile, and her moment +of hesitation over, his title reminded him that no name +but El Pajarito had been given him by his Indian friends. +That, and the office of manager of Mesa Blanca, was all +that served as his introduction to her, and to Rotil. With +the old newspaper in his pocket indicating that Kit +Rhodes was the only name connected with the murder at +Granados, he concluded it was just as well.</p> +<p>The guard drew to either side, and the officer and Kit, +with Doña Jocasta between them, rode between the two +lines, followed by Tula and Valencia. Then the guard +fell in back of them, leaving Clodomiro with the pack +animals and the Indian boys to follow after in the dust.</p> +<p>Doña Jocasta was pale, and her eyes sought Kit’s in +troubled question, but she held her head very erect, and +the shrouding lace veil hid all but her eyes from the +strangers.</p> +<p>“Señor Pajarito,” she murmured doubtfully. “The +sun is still shining, and there are no chains on my +wrists,––otherwise this guard gives much likeness to +my first arrival at the hacienda of Soledad!”</p> +<p>“I have a strong belief that no harm is meant to you +by the general commanding,” he answered, “else I would +have sought another trail, and these men look friendly.”</p> +<p>“God send they be so!”</p> +<p>“They have all the earmarks,––and look!”</p> +<p>They were near enough the hacienda to see men +emerge from the portal, and one who limped and leaned +on a cane, moved ahead of the others and stood waiting.</p> +<p>“It is an honor that I may bid you welcome to your +own estate, Doña Jocasta,” he said grimly. “We have +only fare of soldiers to offer you at first, but a few days +and good couriers can remedy that.”</p> +<p>“I beg that you accept my thanks, <i>Commandante</i>,” she +murmured lowly. “The trail was not of my choosing, +and it is an ill time for women to come journeying.”</p> +<p>“The time is a good time,” he said bluntly, “for there +is a limit to my hours here. And in one of them I may +do service for you.”</p> +<p>His men stood at either side watching. There were +wild tales told of Ramon Rotil and women who crossed +or followed his trail, but here was the most beautiful of +all women riding to his door and he gave her no smile,––merely +motioned to the Americano that he assist her from +the saddle.</p> +<p>“The supper is ready, and your woman and the priest +will see that care is given for your comfort,” he continued. +“Afterwards, in the <i>sala</i>–––”</p> +<p>She bent her head, and with Kit beside her passed on +to the inner portal. There a dark priest met her and +reached out his hand.</p> +<p>“No welcome is due me, Padre Andreas,” she said +brokenly. “I turned coward and tried to save myself.”</p> +<p>“Daughter,” he returned with a wry smile at Kit, and +a touch of cynic humor, “you had right in going. The +lieutenant would have had no pleasure in adding me to +his elopement, and, as we hear,––your stolen trail carried +you to good friends.”</p> +<p>Kit left them there and gave his attention to space for +the packs and outfit, but learned that the general had +allotted to him the small corral used in happier days for +the saddle horses of the family. There was a gate to +it and a lock to the gate. Chappo had been given charge, +and when all was safely bestowed, he gave the key to +the American.</p> +<p>The brief twilight crept over the world, and candles +were lit when Kit returned to the corridor. Rotil was +seated, giving orders to men who rode in and dismounted, +and others who came out from supper, mounted and rode +away. It was the guard from a wide-flung arc bringing +report of sentinels stationed at every pass and water hole.</p> +<p>Padre Andreas was there presenting some appeal, and +to judge by his manner he was not hopeful of success. +Yet spoke as a duty of his office and said so.</p> +<p>“What is your office to me?” asked Rotil coldly. “Do +your duty and confess him when the time comes if that is +his wish. It is more than he would have given to her or +the foreman who stored the ammunition. Him he had +killed as the German had Miguel Herrara killed on the +border,––and Herrara had been faithful to that gun running +for months. When man or woman is faithful to +José Perez long enough to learn secrets, he rewards them +with death. A dose of his own brew will be fit medicine.”</p> +<p>“But the woman,––she is safe. She is–––”</p> +<p>“Yes, very safe!” agreed Rotil, sneering. “Shall I +tell you, pious Father, how safe she is? The cholo who +took food to Perez and that German dog has brought me a +message. See, it is on paper, and is clear for any to read. +You––no not you, but Don Pajarito here shall read it. +He is a neutral, and not a padre scheming to save the soul +of a man who never had a soul!”</p> +<p>Kit held it to the light, read it, and returned it to +Rotil.</p> +<p>“I agree with you, General. He offers her to you +in exchange for his own freedom.”</p> +<p>“Yes, and to pay for that writing I had him chained +where he could see her enter the plaza as a queen, if we +had queens in Mexico! You had an unseen audience for +your arrival. The guard reports that the German friend +of Perez seems to love you, Don Pajarito, very much +indeed.”</p> +<p>“Sure he does. Here is the mark of one of his little +love pats with a monkey wrench,” and Kit parted his hair +to show the scar of the Granados assault. “I got that for +interfering when he was trying to kill his employer’s +herds with ground glass in their feed.”</p> +<p>“So? no wonder if he goes in a rage to see you riding +as a lady’s caballero while he feels the weight of chains +in a prison. This world is but a little place!”</p> +<p>“That is true,” said Padre Andreas, regarding Kit, +for the story of the horses was told to me by Doña +Jocasta here in Soledad!”</p> +<p>“How could that be?” demanded Rotil. “Is it not +true you met the lady first at Mesa Blanca?”</p> +<p>“As you say,” said Kit, alert at the note of suspicion, +“if the lady knows aught of Granados, it is a mystery to +me, and is of interest.”</p> +<p>“Not so much a mystery,” said the priest. “Conrad +boasted much when glasses were emptied with Perez +on the Hermosillo rancho, and Doña Jocasta heard. He +told the number of cavalry horses killed by his men, also +the owner of that ranch of Granados who had to be +silenced for the cause.”</p> +<p>“Thanks for those kind words, Padre,” said Kit. “If +Doña Jocasta has a clear memory of that boasting, she +may save a life for me.”</p> +<p>“So?” said Rotil speculatively. “We seem finding +new trails at Soledad. Whose life?”</p> +<p>“The partner of a chum of mine,” stated Kit lightly, +as he did some quick thinking concerning the complications +likely to arise if he was regarded as a possible +murderer hiding from the law. “My own hunch is that +Conrad himself did it.”</p> +<p>“Have you any idea of a trap for him?”</p> +<p>“N-no, General, unless he was led to believe that I was +under guard here. He might express his sentiments more +freely if he thought I would never get back across the +border alive.”</p> +<p>“Good enough! This offer from Perez is to go into +the keeping of Doña Jocasta. You’ve the duty of taking +it to her. We have not yet found that ammunition.”</p> +<p>“Well, it did cross the border, and somebody got it.”</p> +<p>“He says it was moved to Hermosillo before Juan +Gonsalvo, the overseer, died.”</p> +<p>“Was shot, you mean, after it was cached.”</p> +<p>“Maybe so, but he offers to trade part of it for his +liberty, and deliver the goods north of Querobabi.”</p> +<p>“Yes, General,––into the bodies of your men if you +trust him.”</p> +<p>Rotil chuckled. “You are not so young as you look, +Don Pajarito, and need no warning. It is the room next +the <i>sala</i> where I will have Perez and Conrad brought. +The señora can easily overhear what is said. It may be +she will have the mind to help when she sees that offer +he made.”</p> +<p>“It would seem so, yet––women are strange! They +go like the padre, to prayers when a life is at stake.”</p> +<p>“Some women, and some priests, boy,” said the dark +priest. “It may be that you do not know Doña Jocasta +well.”</p> +<p>This remark appeared to amuse Rotil, for he smiled +grimly and with a gesture indicated that they were to +join Doña Jocasta.</p> +<p>She was rested and refreshed by a good supper. +Valencia and Elena, the cook, had waited upon her and +the latter waxed eloquent over the stupendous changes +at Soledad from the time of Doña Jocasta’s supper the +previous day. Many of the angry men had been ready +to start after Marto who had cheated them, when a +courier rode in with the word that Don José and Señor +Conrad were close behind. Then the surprise of all when +Don José was captured, and it was seen that Elena had +been cooking these many days, not for simple vaqueros, +but for some soldiers of the revolution by which peace +and plenty was to come to all the land! It was a beautiful +dream, and the Deliverer was to make it come true!</p> +<p>Tula sat in the shadow against the wall, like some +slender Indian carving, mute and expressionless while +the eyes of the woman rolled as the two old friends exchanged +their wonder tales of the night and day! Elena +made definite engagement to be with the “Judas” trailers +on the dark Friday, and both breathed blessings on +Rotil who had promised them the right man for the +hanging.</p> +<p>It was this cheerful topic Kit entered upon with the +written note from Perez to the general. He had no liking +for his task, as his eyes rested on Doña Jocasta, +beautiful, resigned and detached from the scene about +her. He remembered what Rotil had said scoffingly of +saints lifted from shrines––a man never forgot that +shrine was empty!</p> +<p>“Mine is a thankless task, señora, but the general +decided you are the best keeper of this,” and he gave to +her the scribbled page torn from a note book.</p> +<p>She took it and held it unread, looking at him with +dark tragic eyes.</p> +<p>“I have fear of written words, señor, and would rather +hear them spoken. So many changes have come that I +dread new changes. No matter where my cage is moved, +it is still a cage to me,” she said wistfully.</p> +<p>“I’ve a hunch, Doña Jocasta, that the bars of that cage +are going to be broken for you,” ventured Kit, taking the +seat she indicated, “and this note may be one of the +weapons to do it. Evidently Señor Perez has had some +mistaken information concerning the stealing of you from +here;––he thought it was by the general’s order. So +mistaken was he that he thought you were the object of +Rotil’s raid on Soledad, and for his own freedom he +has offered to give you, and half his stock of ammunition, +to General Ramon Rotil, and agree to a truce between +their factions.”</p> +<p>“Ah! he offers to make gift of me to the man he +hates,” she said after a long silence. “And the guns and +ammunition,––he also surrenders them?”</p> +<p>“He offers––but it is written here! Since the guns, +however, have been taken south, he cannot give them; +he can only promise them, until such time–––”</p> +<p>“Ho!” she said scornfully. “Is that the tale he tells? +It is true there are guns in the south, but guns are also +elsewhere! He forgets, does José Perez,––or else he +plays for time. This offer,” and she referred to the note, +“it is not written since we arrived––no. It was written +earlier, when he thought I was held by that renegade +far in the desert.”</p> +<p>“I reckon that is true, señora, for after receiving it, +Rotil had him chained in a room fronting the plaza that +he might see you enter Soledad with honors.”</p> +<p>“Ramon Rotil did that?” she mused, looking at the +note thoughtfully, “and he gives to me the evidence +against José? Señor, in the Perez lands we hear only +evil things and very different things about Rotil. They +would say this paper was for sale, but not for a gift. +And––he gives it to me!”</p> +<p>Kit also remembered different things and evil things +told of Rotil, but they were not for discussion with a lady. +He had wondered a bit that it was not the padre who +was given the message to transmit, yet suddenly he +realized that even the padre might have tried to make +it a question of barter, for the padre wanted help for his +priestly office in the saving of Perez’ soul, and incidentally +of his life.</p> +<p>“Yes, señora, it seems a free-will offering, and he said +to tell you it would be in the room adjoining this that +Perez would be questioned as to the war material. Rotil’s +men have searched, and his officers have questioned, but +Perez evidently thinks Rotil will not execute him, as a +ransom will pay much better.”</p> +<p>“That is true, death pays no one––no one!”</p> +<p>Her voice was weighted with sadness, and Kit wondered +what the cloud was under which she lived. The +padre evidently knew, but none of Rotil’s men. It could +not be the mere irregularity of her life with Perez, for +to the peon mind she was the great lady of a great +hacienda, and wife of the padrone. No,––he realized +that the sin of Doña Jocasta had been a different thing, +and that the shadow of it enveloped her as a dark cloak +of silence.</p> +<p>“It is true, señora, that death pays no one, except that +the death of one man may save other lives more valuable. +That often happens,” remarked Kit, with the idea of distracting +her from her own woe, whatever it was. “It +might have seemed a crime if one of his nurses had +chucked a double dose of laudanum into Bill Hohenzollern’s +baby feed, but that nurse would have saved the +lives of hundreds of thousands of innocents, so you never +can tell whether a murderer is a devil, or a man doing +work of the angels.”</p> +<p>“Bill?” Evidently the name was a new one to Doña +Jocasta.</p> +<p>“That’s the name of the Prussian pirate of the Huns +across the water. Your friend Conrad belongs to them.”</p> +<p>“My friend! My <i>friend</i>, señor!” and Doña Jocasta +was on her feet, white and furious, her eyes flaming +hatred. Kit Rhodes was appalled at the spirit he had +carelessly wakened. He remembered the statement of +the priest that he evidently did not know the lady well, +and realized in a flash that he certainly did not, also that +he would feel more comfortable elsewhere.</p> +<p>“Señora, I beg a thousand pardons for my foolishness,” +he implored. “My––my faulty Spanish caused +me to speak the wrong word. Will you not forgive me +such a stupid blunder? Everyone knows the German +brute could not be a friend of yours, and that you could +have only hatred of his kind.”</p> +<p>She regarded him steadily with the ever ready suspicion +against an Americano showing in her eyes, but his regret +was so evident, and his devotion to her interests so sincere, +that the tension relaxed, and she sank back in her +chair, her hand trembling as she covered her eyes for +a moment.</p> +<p>“It is I who am wrong, señor. You cannot know how +the name of that man is a poison, and why absolution +is refused me because I will not forgive,––and will not say +I forgive! I will not lie, and because of the hate of him +my feet will tread the fires of hell. The padre is telling +me that, so what use to pray? Of what use, I ask you?”</p> +<p>Kit could see no special use if she had accepted the +threat of the priest that hell was her portion anyway.</p> +<p>“Oh, I would not take that gabble of a priest seriously +if I were you,” he suggested. “No one can beat me in +detesting the German and what he stands for, but I have +no plans of going to hell for it––not on your life! To +hate Conrad, or to kill him would be like killing a rattlesnake, +or stamping a tarantula into the sand. He has +been let live to sting too many, and Padre Andreas tells +me you heard him boast of an American killing at +Granados!”</p> +<p>“That is true, señor, and it was so clever too! It was +pleasure for him to tell of that because of clever tricks +in it. They climbed poles to the wires and called the +man to a town, then they waited on that road and shot +him before he reached the town. The alcalde of that +place decided the man had killed himself, and Conrad +laughed with José Perez on account of that, because they +were so clever!”</p> +<p>“They?” queried Kit trying to prevent his eagerness +from showing in his voice. “Who helped him? Not +Perez?”</p> +<p>“No, señor, in that sin José had no part. It was +a very important man who did not appear important;––quite +the other way, and like a man of piety. His name, +I am remembering it well, for it is Diego,––but said in +the American way, which is James.”</p> +<p>“Diego, said in the American way?” repeated Kit +thoughtfully. “Is he then an American?”</p> +<p>“Not at all, señor! He is Aleman <i>commandante</i> for +the border. His word is an order for life or death, +and José Perez is of his circle. The guns buried by Perez +are bought with the German money; it is for war of +Sonora against Arizona when that day comes.”</p> +<p>“Shucks! that day isn’t coming unless the Huns put +more of a force down here than is yet in sight,” declared +Kit, “but that ‘Diego’ bothers me. I know many +James’,––several at Granados, but not the sort you tell +of, señora. Will you speak of that murder again, and +let it be put on paper for me? I have friends at Granados +who may be troubled about it, and your help would be +as––as the word of an angel at the right hour.”</p> +<p>“A sad angel, señor,” she said with a sigh, “but why +should I not help you to your wish since you have guarded +me well? It is a little thing you ask.”</p> +<p>The Indian women at the far end of the <i>sala</i> had +lowered their voices, but their gossip in murmurs and +expressive gestures flowed on, and only Tula gave heed +to the talk at the table of wars and guns, and secrets of +murder, and that was no new thing in Sonora.</p> +<p>One door of the <i>sala</i> opened from the patio, and another +into a room used as a chapel after the old adobe +walls of the mission church had melted utterly back into +the earth. Rotil had selected it merely because its only +window was very high, an architectural variation caused +by a wing of the mission rooms still standing when +Soledad hacienda was built. A new wall had been built +against the older and lower one which still remained, +with old sleeping cells of the neophytes used as tool sheds, +and an unsightly litter of propped or tumbling walls back +of the ranch house.</p> +<p>The door from the <i>sala</i> was slightly ajar, and the +voice of Fidelio was heard there. He asked someone for +another candle, and another chair. And there was the +movement of feet, and rearrangement of furniture.</p> +<p>Rotil entered the <i>sala</i> from the patio, and stood just +inside, looking about him.</p> +<p>With a brief word and gesture he indicated that Elena +and Valencia vacate. At Tula he glanced, but did not +bid her follow. He noted the folded paper in the hand +of Doña Jocasta, but did not address her; it was to Kit +he spoke.</p> +<p>“The door will be left open. I learn that Conrad distrusts +Perez because he paid German money, and shipped +the guns across the border, but Perez never uncovered +one for him. They are badly scared and ready to cut +each other’s throats if they had knives. Doña Jocasta +may overhear what she pleases, and furnish the knives +as well if she so decides.”</p> +<p>But Doña Jocasta with a shudder put up her hand in +protest.</p> +<p>“No knife, no knife!” she murmured, and Rotil +shrugged his shoulders and looked at Kit.</p> +<p>“That little crane in the corner would walk barefoot +over embers of hell to get a knife and get at Conrad,” +he said. “You have taste in your favorites, señor.”</p> +<p>He seemed to get a certain amusement in the contemplation +of Kit and Tula; he had seen no other American +with quite that sort of addition to his outfit. Kit +was content to let him think his worst, as to tell the truth +would no doubt lose them a friend. It tickled the general’s +fancy to think the thin moody Indian girl, immature +and childlike, was an American’s idea of a sweetheart!</p> +<p>Voices and the clank of chains were heard in the +patio, and then in the next room.</p> +<p>“Why bring us here when your questions were given +answer as well in another place?” demanded a man’s +voice, and at that Doña Jocasta looked at Rotil.</p> +<p>“Yes, why do you?” she whispered.</p> +<p>He stared at her, frowning and puzzled.</p> +<p>“Did I not tell you? I did it that you might hear him +repeat his offer. What else?”</p> +<p>“I––see,” she said, bending her head, but as Rotil +went to the door, Kit noted that the eyes of Doña Jocasta +followed him curiously. He concluded that the unseen +man of the voice was José Perez.</p> +<p>Then the voice of Conrad was heard cursing at a chain +too heavy. Rotil laughed, and walked into the chapel.</p> +<p>“I can tell you something, you German Judas!” he +said coldly. “You will live to see the day when these +chains, and this safe old chapel, will be as a paradise +you once lived in. You will beg to crawl on your knees +to be again comfortably inside this door.”</p> +<p>“Is that some Mexican joke?” asked Conrad, and +Rotil laughed again.</p> +<p>“Sure it is, and it will be on you! They tell me you +collect girls in Sonora for a price. Well, they have grown +fond of you,––the Indian women of Sonora! They say +you must end your days here with them. I have not +heard of a ransom price they would listen to,––though +you might think of what you have to offer.”</p> +<p>“Offer?” growled Conrad. “How is there anything +to offer in Sonora when Perez here has sent the guns +south?”</p> +<p>“True, the matter of ransom seems to rest with Señor +Perez who is saving of words.”</p> +<p>“I put the words on paper, and sent it by your man,” +said Perez. “What else is there to say?”</p> +<p>“Oh, that?” returned Rotil. “My boys play tricks, +and make jokes with me like happy children. Yes, +Chappo did bring words on paper,––foolish words he +might have written himself. I take no account of such +things. You are asked for the guns, and I get foolish +words on paper of a woman you would trade to me, and +guns you would send me.”</p> +<p>“Well?”</p> +<p>“Who gives you right to trade the woman, señor?”</p> +<p>“Who has a better right? She belongs to me.”</p> +<p>“Very good! And her name?”</p> +<p>“You know the name.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps, but I like my bargains with witness, and +they must witness the name.”</p> +<p>“Jocasta––” There was a slight hesitation, and Rotil +interrupted.</p> +<p>“She has been known as Señora Jocasta Perez, is it +not so?”</p> +<p>“Well––yes,” came the slow reply, “but that was foolishness +of the peons on my estates. They called her that.”</p> +<p>“Very good! One woman called Jocasta Perez is +offered to me in trade with the guns. José Perez, have +you not seen that the Doña Jocasta Perez is even now +mistress of Soledad, and that my men and I are as her +servants?”</p> +<p>Jocasta on the other side of the door strangled a half +sob as she heard him, and crept nearer the door.</p> +<p>“Oh, you are a good one at a bargain, Ramon Rotil! +You try to pretend the woman cannot count in this trade, +but women always count,––women like Jocasta!”</p> +<p>“So? Then we will certainly take count of the woman––one +woman! Now to guns and ammunition. How +many, and where?”</p> +<p>“At Hermosillo, and it will take a week.”</p> +<p>“I have no week to waste, and I do not mean the +guns at Hermosillo. You have five minutes, José Perez. +Also those playful boys are building a nice warm fire +for the branding irons. And you will both get a +smell of your own burning hides if I wait longer for an +answer.”</p> +<p>“Holy God!” shouted Conrad. “Why burn me for +his work? From me the guns have been hid as well as +from you;––all I got was promises! They are my +guns,––my money paid, but he is not straight! Here +at Soledad he was to show me this time, but I think now +it was a trick to murder me as he murdered Juan Gonsalvo, +the foreman who stored them away for him.”</p> +<p>“Animal!” growled Perez. “You have lost your head +to talk of murders to me! Two murders at Granados are +waiting for you, and it is not far to ship you back to the +border! Walk with care, señor!”</p> +<p>“You are each wasting time with your truth telling,” +stated Rotil. “This is no time to count your dead men. +It is the count of the guns I want. And a sight of the +ammunition.”</p> +<p>“Give me a guide to Hermosillo, and the price of guns +can be got for you.”</p> +<p>“It is not the <i>price</i> of guns I asked you for, it is +guns,––the guns Conrad and Herrara got over the border for +you. Your time is going fast, José Perez.”</p> +<p>“They are not to be had this side of Hermosillo, send +me south if you want them. But it is well to remember +that if an accident happens to me you never could get +them,––never! I alone know their hiding place.”</p> +<p>“For that reason have I waited for your visit to Soledad,––you +and your carts and your pack mules,” stated +Rotil. “Do not forget that Marto Cavayso and other +men of mine have been for weeks with your ranchmen. +Your pack train comes here empty, and means one thing +only––they came for the American guns! Your minutes +are going, señor, and the branding irons are getting heat +from the fire. One more minute!”</p> +<p>“Write the figures of the ransom, and grant me a messenger +to Hermosillo. You have the whip hand, you +can make your price.”</p> +<p>“But me? What of <i>my</i> ransom?” demanded Conrad. +“My money, and my time paid for those guns––I have +not seen one of them this side of the border! If no guns +are paid for me, money must be paid.”</p> +<p>“No price is asked for you. I told you the women +have named no ransom.”</p> +<p>“Women? That is foolishness. It is not women for +whom you hold me! He has turned traitor, has Perez! +He wants me sent back across the border without that +price of the guns for his mushroom government! He has +told his own tales of Herrara, and of Singleton, and they +are lies––all lies!”</p> +<p>“But what of the tale of Diego, said in the American +way?” asked Kit stepping inside the room.</p> +<p>“Diego! Diego!” repeated Conrad and made a leap +at Perez. “You have sold me out to the Americans, you +scum! James warned me you were scum of the gutters, +and now–––”</p> +<p>The guard caught him, and he stood there shaking with +fury in the dim light. Perez drew away with a curse.</p> +<p>“To hell with you and James and your crew on the +border,” he growled. “I care nothing as to how soon the +damned gringos swing you both. When you Germans +want to use us we are your ‘dear brothers.’ When we +out-trick you, we are only scum, eh? You can tell your +<i>commandante</i> James that I won the game from him, and +all the guns!”</p> +<p>“My thanks to you, General Rotil, that I have been +allowed to hear this,” said Kit, “also that I have witness. +I’d do as much for you if the chance comes. Two men +were killed on the border by Conrad under order of this +James. Herrara was murdered in prison for fear he +would turn informer about the guns. Singleton was murdered +to prevent him investigating the German poisoning +of cavalry horses. The German swine meant to control +Granados rancho a few months longer for their own +purposes.”</p> +<p>“<i>Meant</i> to?” sneered Conrad. “You raw cub!––you +are playing with dynamite and due for a fall. So is your +fool country! Though Perez here has lost his nerve and +turned traitor to our deal, that is only a little puff of wind +against the bulwarks of the Fatherland! We will hold +Granados; we will hold the border; and with Mexico +(not this crook of the west, but <i>real</i> Mexico) we will win +and hold every border state and every Pacific coast state! +You,––poor fool!––will never reach Granados alive to +tell this. You are but one American in the Indian wilderness, +and you are sure to go under, but you go knowing +that though James and I die, and though a thousand more +of us die, there will be ten thousand secret German +workers in America to carry on our plan until all the +world will be under the power of the Prussian eagle! +You,––who think you know so much, can add <i>that</i> to +finish your education in Sonora, and carry it to hell with +you!”</p> +<p>His voice, coldly contemptuous at first, had risen to a +wrathful shriek as he faced the American and hurled at +him the exultance of the Teuton dream.</p> +<p>“I certainly am in great luck to be your one American +confessor,” grinned Kit, “but I’ll postpone that trip as +long as possible. I reckon General Rotil will let the +padre help me make note of this education you are handing +out to me. A lot of Americans need it! Have I your +permission, General?”</p> +<p>“Go as far as you like,” snapped Rotil. “They have +used up their time limit in scolding like old women. +Perez, I wait for the guns.”</p> +<p>“Send me to Hermosillo and I will recover enough for +a ransom,” said Perez.</p> +<p>Rotil regarded him a moment through half-closed, +sinister eyes.</p> +<p>“That was your last chance, and you threw it away. +Chappo, strip him; Fidelio, fetch the branding irons.”</p> +<p>Perez shrank back, staring at Rotil as if fascinated. +He was striving to measure the lengths to which the +“Hawk of the Sierras” would go, and a sudden gleam of +hope came into his eyes as Padre Andreas held up a crucifix +before Chappo, waving him aside.</p> +<p>“No, Rotil,––torture is a thing for animals, not men! +Hell waits for the sinner who–––”</p> +<p>“Hell won’t wait for you one holy minute!” snapped +Rotil. “Get back with the women where you belong; +there is men’s work to do here.”</p> +<p>He caught the priest by the arm in an iron grip and +whirled him towards the <i>sala</i>. The man would have +fallen but for Kit who caught him, but could not save +the crash of his head against the door. Blood streamed +from a cut in his forehead, and thus he staggered into the +room where Doña Jocasta stood, horror-stricken and +poised for flight.</p> +<p>But the sight of the blood-stained priest, and the sound +of a strange, half animal cry from the other room, turned +her feet that way.</p> +<p>“No, Ramon! No-<i>no</i>!” she cried and sped through +the door to fling herself between him and his victims.</p> +<p>Her arms were stretched wide and she halted, almost +touching him, with her back to the chained man towards +whom she had not glanced, but she could not help seeing +the charcoal brazier with the red-hot branding irons held +by Fidelio. The gasping cry had come from Conrad by +whom the brazier was set.</p> +<p>Ramon Rotil stared at her, frowning as if he would +fling her from his path as he had the priest.</p> +<p>“No, Ramon!” she said again, still with that supplicating +look and gesture, “send them out of here,––both +these men. I would smother and die in a room with +that German beast. You will not be sorry, Ramon Rotil, +I promise you that,––I promise you by the God I dare not +face!”</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_3' id='linki_3'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-280.jpg' alt='' title='' width='372' height='572' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +“No, Ramon! No!” she cried, and flung herself between him and his victims.<br /> +</p> +</div> +<p>“Ho!” snarled Perez. “Is the priest also her lover +that she–––”</p> +<p>“Send the German out, and let José Perez stay to see +that I keep my promise,” she said letting her arms fall at +her side, but facing Rotil with an addition of hauteur in +her poise and glance. “The price he will pay for the +words he has spoken here will be a heavy price,––one he has +risked life to hold! Send that pale snake and your men +outside, Ramon.”</p> +<p>Perez was leaning forward, his face strained and white, +watching her. He could not see her face, but the glimpse +of hope came again into his eyes––a woman might succeed +with Rotil where a priest would fail!</p> +<p>Rotil, still frowning at her, waved his hand to Chappo +and Fidelio.</p> +<p>“Take him away,” he said, “and wait beyond.”</p> +<p>The shuffling movement and clank of chains was heard, +but she did not turn her head. Instead she moved past +Rotil, lifted a candle, and went towards the shrine at +the end of the room.</p> +<p>A table was there with a scarf across it, and back of +the table three steps leading up to a little platform on +which were ranged two or three mediocre statues of +saints, once brilliant with blue and scarlet and tinsel, but +tarnished and dim from the years.</p> +<p>In the center was a painting, also dark and dim in +which only a halo was still discernible in the light of the +candle, but the features of the saint pictured there were +shadowed and elusive.</p> +<p>For a moment she knelt on the lower step and bent her +head because of those remnants of a faith which was all +she knew of earthly hope,––and then she started to mount +the steps.</p> +<p>“The curse of God shrivel you!” muttered Perez in +cold fury––“come down from there!”</p> +<p>Without heed to the threat, she moved the little statues +to right or left, and then lifted her hand, resting it on +the wooden frame of the painting.</p> +<p>“Call the Americano,” she said without turning. “You +will need a man, but not a man of Altar. Another day +may come when you, Ramon, may have need of this +house for hiding!”</p> +<p>Rotil strode to the door and motioned Kit to enter, +then he closed both doors and gave no heed to Perez, +crouched there like a chained coyote in a trap.</p> +<p>“Come down!” he said again. “You are in league +with hell to know of that. I never gave it to you! Come +down! I meant to tell after he had finished with Conrad––I +mean to tell!”</p> +<p>“He waited too long, and spoke too much,” she said +to Rotil. “Keep watch on him, and let the Americano +give help here.”</p> +<p>Kit mounted the step beside her, and at her gesture +took hold of the frame on one side. She found a wedge +of wood at the other side and drew it out. The loosened +frame was lifted out by Kit and carried down the three +steps; it was a panel a little over two feet in width and +four in height.</p> +<p>“Set it aside, and watch José Perez while General +Rotil looks within,” she said evenly.</p> +<p>Rotil glanced at Perez scowling black hate at her, and +then turned to Jocasta who held out the candle.</p> +<p>“It is for you to see,––you and no other,” she said. +“You have saved a woman he would have traded as a +slave, and I give you more than a slave’s ransom.”</p> +<p>He took the candle and his eyes suddenly flamed with +exultation as her meaning came to him.</p> +<p>“<i>Jocasta!</i>” he muttered as if scarce believing, and then +he mounted the step, halted an instant in the panel of +shadow, and, holding the candle over his head, he leaned +forward and descended on the other side of the wall.</p> +<p>“You damned she-wolf of the hills!” growled Perez +with the concentrated hate of utter failure in his voice. +“I fed you, and my money covered your nakedness, and +now you put a knife in my neck and go back to cattle of +the range for a mate! You,––without shame or soul!”</p> +<p>“That is true,” she said coldly. “You killed a soul +in the <i>casita</i> of the oleanders, José Perez, and it was a +dead woman you and the German chained to be buried +in the desert. But even the dead come back to help +friends who are faithful, José,––and I am as the dead +who walk.”</p> +<p>She did not look at him as she spoke, but sank on her +knees before the dark canvas where only the faint golden +halo gave evidence of some incarnated holiness portrayed +there. Her voice was low and even, and the sadness of it +thrilled Kit. He thought of music of sweet chords, and +a broken string vibrating, for the hopelessness in her voice +held a certain fateful finality, and her delicate dark loveliness–––</p> +<p>Rotil emerged from the doorway of the shrine and +stood there, a curious substitute for the holy picture, looking +down on her with a wonderful light in his face.</p> +<p>“Your ransom wins for you all you wish of me,––except +the life of one man,” he said, and with a gesture +indicated that Kit help her to her feet. He did so, and +saw that she was very white and trembling.</p> +<p>Rotil looked at Perez over her head, and Perez scowled +back, with all the venom of black hate.</p> +<p>“You win!––but a curse walks where she walks. Ask +her? Ask Marto of the men she put under witchcraft! +Ask Conrad who had good luck till she hated him! If +you have a love, or a child, or anything dear, let her not +look hate on them, for her knife follows that look! Ask +her of the knife she set in the heart of a child for jealousy +of Conrad! Ai, general though you are, your whole army +is not strong enough to guard you from the ill luck you +will take with the gift <i>she</i> gives! She is a woman under +a curse. Ha! Look at her as I say it, for you hear the +truth. Ask the padre!”</p> +<p>Kit realized that Perez was launching against her the +direst weight of evil the Mexican or Indian mind has to +face. Though saints and heaven and hell might be denied +by certain daring souls, the potency of witchcraft was +seldom doubted. Men or women accused of it were +shunned as pariahs, and there had been known persons +who weakened and dwindled into death after accusation +had been put against them.</p> +<p>He thought of it as she cowered under each separate +count of the curse launched against her. She bent like a +slender reed under the strokes of a flail, lower and lower +against his arm, but when the deadly voice flung the final +taunt at her, she straightened slowly and looked at Rotil.</p> +<p>“Yes, ask the padre––or ask me!” she said in that +velvet soft voice of utter despair. “That I sent an innocent +soul to death is too true. To my great sorrow I did +it;––I would do it again! For that my life is indeed a +curse to me,––but his every other word a lie!”</p> +<p>Then she took a step forward, faltered, and fell back +into the outstretched arm of Kit.</p> +<p>“Take Señora Perez to the women, and come back,” +said Rotil. Kit noted that even though he moved close, +and bent over the white unconscious face, he did not touch +her.</p> +<p>“Señora Perez!” repeated Perez contemptuously. +“You are generous with other men’s names for your +women! Her name is the Indian mother’s name.”</p> +<p>“Half Indian,” corrected Rotil, “and her naming I +will decide another time.”</p> +<p>Kit returned, and without words proceeded to help replace +the holy picture in its niche. In the struggle with +the padre, a chunk of adobe had been knocked from the +wall near the door, and he picked it up, crumbling it to +a soft powder and sprinkled it lightly over the steps +where foot prints were traceable in the dust.</p> +<p>Rotil who had gone to the door to recall the guard, +halted and watched him closely.</p> +<p>“Good!” he said. “You also give me a thought concerning +this animal; he will bark if he has listeners, and +even the German should not hear––one never knows! +I need a cage for a few hours. You have been a friend, +and know secret things. Will you lock him in your own +room and hold the key to yourself?”</p> +<p>“Surest thing you know,” answered Kit though with +the uncomfortable certainty that the knowledge of too +many secret things in Mexico was not conducive to long +life for the knower. “I may also assure you that Marto +is keen on giving you honest service that his one fault +may be atoned for.”</p> +<p>“He will get service,” stated Rotil. “You saved me +a good man there, amigo.”</p> +<p>He flung open the door of the corridor and whistled +for the guard.</p> +<p>“Remove this man and take your orders from Capitan–––” +He halted, and his eyes narrowed quizzically.</p> +<p>“It seems we never were introduced, amigo, and we +know only your joy name of the singer, but there must be +another.”</p> +<p>“Oh, yes, there’s another, all right,” returned Kit, +knowing that Conrad would enlighten Rotil if he did not. +“I’m the hombre suspected of that Granados murder +committed by Conrad,––and the name is Rhodes.”</p> +<p>“So? Then the scolding of these two comrades gives +to you your freedom from suspicion, eh? That is good, +but––” He looked at Kit, frowning. “See here, I +comprehend badly. You told me it was the friend of +your <i>compadre</i> who was the suspected one!”</p> +<p>“Sure! I’ve a dandy partner across the border. He’s +the old man you saw at Yaqui Spring, and I reckon I’m +a fairly good friend of his. He’d say so!”</p> +<p>Rotil’s face relaxed in a grin.</p> +<p>“That is clever, a trick and no harm in it, but––have +a care to yourself! It is easy to be too clever, and on a +trail of war no one has time to learn if tricks are of harm +or not. Take the warning of a friend, Capitan Rhodes!”</p> +<p>“You have the right of it, General. I have much to +learn,” agreed Kit. “But no man goes abroad to shout +the crimes he is accused of at home,––and the story of +this one is very new to me. This morning I learned I +was thought guilty, and tonight I learn who is the criminal, +and how the job was done. This is quick work, and +I owe the luck of it to you.”</p> +<p>“May the good luck hold!” said Rotil. “And see that +the men leave you alone as the guard of Perez. I want +no listeners there.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVII_THE_STORY_OF_DOA_JOCASTA' id='CHAPTER_XVII_THE_STORY_OF_DOA_JOCASTA'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> +<h3>THE STORY OF DOÑA JOCASTA</h3> +</div> +<p>Ramon Rotil stood a long minute after the clank +of chains ceased along the corridor; then he bolted +the outer door of the chapel, and after casting a grim +satisfied smile at the screen of the faded canvas, he opened +the door of the <i>sala</i> and went in.</p> +<p>Valencia was kneeling beside Doña Jocasta and forcing +brandy between the white lips, while Elena bustled +around the padre whose head she had been bathing. A +basin of water, ruby red, was evidence of the fact that +Padre Andreas was not in immediate need of the services +of a leech. He sat with his bandaged head held in +his hands, and shrank perceptibly when the general entered +the room.</p> +<p>Doña Jocasta swallowed some of the brandy, half +strangled over it, and sat up, gasping and white. It was +Tula who offered her a cup of water, while Valencia, with +fervent expressions of gratitude to the saints, got to her +feet, eyeing Rotil with a look of fear. After the wounded +priest and the fainting Jocasta emerged from the chapel +door, the two women were filled with terror of the controlling +spirit there.</p> +<p>He halted on the threshold, his eyes roving from face +to face, including Tula, who stood, back against the wall, +regarding him as usual with much admiration. One +thing more he must know.</p> +<p>“Go you without,” he said with a gesture towards the +two women and the priest. “I will speak with this lady +alone.”</p> +<p>They all moved to the door, and after a moment of +hesitation Tula was about to follow when he stopped +her.</p> +<p>“You stay, girl. The Doña Jocasta may want a maid, +but take yourself over there.”</p> +<p>So Tula slipped silently back into the niche of the window +seat where the shadows were deepest, and Rotil +moved towards the center table dragging a chair. On the +other side of the table was the couch on which Jocasta +sat, white and startled at the dismissal of the woman and +priest.</p> +<p>“Be composed,” he said gentling his tone as one would +to soothe a child. “There are some things to be said between +us here, and too many ears are of no advantage.”</p> +<p>She did not reply; only inclined her head slightly and +drew herself upright against the wall, gathering the lace +<i>rebosa</i> across her bosom where Valencia had unfastened +her garments and forgotten them in her fear.</p> +<p>“First is the matter of my debt to you. Do you know +in your own mind how great that is?”</p> +<p>“I––count it as nothing, señor,” she murmured.</p> +<p>“That is because you do not know the great need, and +have not made count of the cases of rifles and ammunition.”</p> +<p>“It is true, I never looked at them. Juan Gonsalvo +in dying blamed José Perez for the shot. It was fired +by another hand,––but God alone knows! So Juan sent +for me, and José never knew. The secret of Soledad was +given to me then, but I never thought to use it, until–––”</p> +<p>She ceased, shuddering, and he knew she was thinking +of the blood-stained priest whirled into her presence. +Fallen though the state of the priesthood might be in +Mexico, there were yet women of Jocasta’s training to +whom an assault on the clergy was little less than a mortal +sin. He knew that, and smiled grimly at the remembrance +of her own priestly father who had refused her +in honest marriage to a man of her mother’s class, and +was busily engaged haggling over the gift price of her +with José Perez when death caught him. The bewildered +girl was swept to the estate of Perez without either marriage +or gift, unless one choose to consider as gift the +shelter and food given to a younger sister and brother.</p> +<p>All this went through his mind as she shrank and +sighed because he had tossed a priest from his way with +as slight regard as he would the poorest peon. She did +not even know how surely the destiny of her mother and +her own destiny had been formed by a priest’s craft. She +would never know, because her mind would refuse to +accept it. There were thousands like her because of their +shadowed inheritance. Revolution for the men grew +out of that bondage of women, and Rotil had isolated +moments when he dreamed of a vast and blessed freedom +of the land––schools, and schools, and more schools +until knowledge would belong to the people instead of to +the priests!</p> +<p>But he knew it was no use to tell thoughts like that to +women; they were afraid to let go their little wooden +saints and the jargon of prayers they did not understand. +The mystery of it held them!</p> +<p>Thus brooded Rotil, unlearned driver of burros and +general of an army of the people!</p> +<p>“We will forget all but the ammunition,” he said. +“It is as food to my men, and some of them are starving +there to the east; with ammunition food can be commandeered. +I knew the guns were on Soledad land, but +even a golden dream of angels would not have let me +hope for as much as you have given me. It is packed,––that +room, from floor to roof tiles. In the morning I take +the trail, and there is much to be done before I go. You;––I +must think of first. Will you let me be your confessor, +and tell me any wish of your heart I may help you +to?”</p> +<p>“My heart has no wish left alive in it,” she said. +“There have been days when I had wish for the hut +under the palms where my mother lived. A childish +wish,––but other wishes are dead!”</p> +<p>“There is no going back,” he said, staring at the tiles, +and not looking at her. “It is of future things we must +think. He said things––Perez did, and you–––”</p> +<p>“Yes!” she half whispered. “There is no way but to +tell of it, but––I would ask that the child wait outside. +The story is not a story for a girl child, Ramon.”</p> +<p>He motioned to Tula.</p> +<p>“Outside the door, but in call,” he said, and without +a word or look Tula went softly out.</p> +<p>There was silence for a bit between them, her hands +were clasped at full length, and she leaned forward painfully +tense, looking not at him, but past him.</p> +<p>“It is not easy, but you will comprehend better than +many,” she said at last. “There were three of us. +There was my little brother Palemon, who ran away last +year to be a soldier––he was only fourteen. José would +not let me send searchers for him, and he may be dead. +Then there was only––only Lucita and me. You maybe +remember Lucita?”</p> +<p>Her question was wistful as if it would help her to +even know he remembered. He nodded his head in affirmation.</p> +<p>“A golden child,” he said. “I have seen pictured +saints and angels in great churches since the days in +the hills, but never once so fair a child as little Lucita.”</p> +<p>“Yes, white and gold, and an angel of innocence,” she +said musingly. “Always she was that, always! And +there was a sweetheart, Mariano Avila, a good lad, and +the wedding was to be. She was embroidering the wedding +shirt for Mariano when––God! God!”</p> +<p>She got up suddenly and paced the floor, her arms hugging +her shoulders tight as if to keep from sobbing. He +rose and stood watching, but uttered no word.</p> +<p>After a little she returned to the couch, and began to +speak in a more even tone.</p> +<p>“There is so much to tell. Much happened. Conrad +was driving José to do many things not at first in their +plans. Also there was more drinking,––much more! It +was Conrad made plans for the slave raids. He no +longer asked José’s permission for anything; he gave +command to the men and José had to listen. Only one +secret thing was yet hidden from him, the hiding place +of the guns from the north. José said if that was uncovered +he might as well give up his ranchos. In his heart +he could not trust Conrad. Each had a watch set on +the other! Juan got his death because he made rendezvous +with the German.</p> +<p>“That is how it was when the slave raid was made +north of here, and the most beautiful Indian girl killed +herself somewhere in this desert when there was no +other way to escape the man;––the scar on the face +of Conrad was from her knife. It was a bad cut, and +after that there was trouble, and much drink and mad +quarrels. Also it was that time Juan Gonsalvo was shot +and died from it. Juana, his sister, came in secret for +me while he could yet speak, and that was when–––”</p> +<p>She halted, closing her eyes as if to shut out some horror. +He thought she shrank from remembrance of how +the secret of Soledad was given to her, for Juan must +have been practically a dead man when he gave it up. +After a moment she went on in the sad tone of the utterly +hopeless.</p> +<p>“I speak of the mad quarrels of those two men, Ramon, +but it was never of that I had fear. The fear came each +time the quarrel was done, and they again swore to be +friends, for in the new ‘friend hours’ of drinking, strange +things happened, strange wagers and strange gifts.”</p> +<p>Again she paused, and this time she lifted her eyes to +Rotil.</p> +<p>“Always I hated the German. I never carried a blade +until after his eyes followed me! He tried to play the +prince, the great gentleman, with me––a girl of the hills! +Only once he touched my hand, and I scoured it with sand +afterwards while José laughed. But the German did +not laugh,––he only watched me! Once when José was +in a rage with me Conrad said he could make of me a +great lady in his own land if I would listen. Instead of +listening I showed him my knife. After that God only +knows what he told against me, but José became bitter––bitter, +and jealous, and spies always at my back!</p> +<p>“So Lucita and Mariano and I made plans. They +were to marry, and we three would steal away in secret +and cross the border. That was happiness to plan, for +my life––my life was hell, so I thought! But I had +not yet learned what hell could be,” she confessed +drearily.</p> +<p>“Tell me,” he said very gently. Those who thought +they knew “El Gavilan,” the merciless, would not have +recognized his voice at that moment.</p> +<p>“No, I had not learned,” she went on drearily. “I +thought that to carry a knife for myself made all safe––I +did not know! I told you Juana Gonsalvo came for +me very secretly to hear the last words of Juan. But +I did not tell you we lived in the <i>casita</i>, little Lucita +and I. It is across a garden from the hacienda, and was +once a priest’s house; that was in the days of the mother +of José. It is very sweet there under the rose vines, +and it was sanctuary for us. When José and the German +had their nights of carouse we went there and locked +ourselves in. There were iron bars on the high windows, +and shutters of wood inside, so we were never +afraid. I heard Conrad tell José he was a fool not to +blow it up with dynamite some day of fiesta. It was +the night after their great quarrel, and it was a terrible +time. They were pledging friendship once more in much +wine. Officers from the town were at the hacienda with +women who were––well, I would not go in, and José +was wild. He came to the <i>casita</i> and called threats at +me. I thought the German was with him, for he said +Conrad was right, and the house would be blown up +with the first dynamite he could spare,––but threats were +no new thing to us! I tried to soothe little Lucita by +talk of the wedding, and all the pretty bride things were +taken out of the chest and spread on the bed; one +<i>rebosa</i> of white I put over her shoulders, and the child +was dancing to show me she was no longer afraid–––!</p> +<p>“That was when Juana came to the window. I knew +her voice and opened the door. I did not want Lucita +frightened again, so I did not let her know a man was +dying––only that a sick person wanted me for a little––little +minute, and I would be back.</p> +<p>“I knew Juan Gonsalvo had been killed because he +had been trusted far enough,––I knew it! That thought +struck me very hard, for I––I might be the next, and +I wanted first to send those two children happily out of +reach of sorrow. Strange it is that because she was +first, the very first in my heart, I went out that door +in the night and for the first time left her alone! But +that is how it was; we had to be so quick––and so silent––and +it was her hand closed the door after us, her hand +on the bolt!</p> +<p>“Juan Gonsalvo had only fought for life until he could +see me, and then the breath went. No one but I heard +his whispers of the door of the picture here in Soledad. +He told me his death was murder, and his last word was +against Perez. It was only minutes, little minutes I was +there, and the way was not far, but when I went back +through the garden the door of the <i>casita</i> stood wide +and light streamed out! I do not know how I was sure +it was empty, but I was, and I seemed to go dead inside, +though I started to run.</p> +<p>“To cross that garden was like struggling in a dream +with bands about my feet. I wake with that dream many +nights––many!––I heard her before I could reach the +path. Her screams were not in the <i>casita</i>, but in the +hacienda. They were––they were––terrible! I tried +to go––and then I knew she had broken away––I could +see her like a white spirit fly back towards the light in +the open door. The man following her tripped in some +way and fell, and I leaped over him to follow her. We +got inside and drew the bolt.</p> +<p>“Then––But there are things not to be told––they +belong to the dead!</p> +<p>“Perez came there to the door and made demands +for Conrad’s woman,––that is how he said it! He said +she had gone to Conrad’s apartment of her own will and +must go back. Lucita knelt at my feet in her torn bridal +garment and told how a woman had come as Juana had +come, and said that I wanted her. The child had no +doubt, she followed, and––and it was indeed to that +drunken beast they took her!</p> +<p>“José was also drunk, crazy drunk. He told me to +stand away from that door for they were coming in, +also that he had made gift of Lucita to his friend, and +she must be given up. Then they began to fire guns +in the lock! It seemed a long, long time she held to me +there and begged me to save her, but it could not have +been.... The lock gave way, and only the bolt +held. I clasped her close to me and whispered telling her +to pray, but I never took my eyes off the door. When I +saw it shaking, I made the sign of the cross over her, +and the knife I had carried for myself found her heart +quickly! That is how I took on me the shadow of murder, +and that is why the priest threatens me with the +fires of hell if I do not repent––and I am not repenting, +Ramon.”</p> +<p>“By God, no!” he muttered, staring into her defiant +eyes. “That was a fine thing, and your mother gave good +blood to her children, Jocasta. And then–––?”</p> +<p>“I laid her on the bed among her bridal laces, all +white––white! Over her breast I folded her still hands, +and set a candle at her head, though I dared not pray! +The door was giving way.</p> +<p>“I pushed back the bolt, also I spoke, but it did not +seem me! That is strange, but of a truth I did not know +the voice I heard say: ‘Enter, her body is yours––and +she no longer flees from you.’</p> +<p>“‘Ha! That is good sense at last!’ said José, and +Conrad laughed and praised himself as a lover.</p> +<p>“‘I told you so!’ he grunted. ‘The little dear one +knows that a nice white German is not so bad!’</p> +<p>“And again I heard the voice strange to me say, ‘She +knows nothing, José––and she knows all!’</p> +<p>“José stumbled in smiling, but Conrad, though drunk, +stopped at the door when he saw my hand with the knife. +I thought my skirt covered it as I waited for him––for +the child had told me enough––I––I failed, Ramon! +His oath was a curious choked scream as I tried to reach +him. I do not know if it was the knife, or the dead girl +on the bed made him scream like that, but I knew then +the German was at heart a coward.</p> +<p>“José was too strong for me, and the knife could not +do its work. I was struck, and my head muffled in a +<i>serape</i>. After that I knew nothing.</p> +<p>“Days and nights went by in a locked room. I never +got out of it until I was chained hand and foot and +sent north in a peon’s ox-cart. Men guarded me until +Marto with other men waited for me on the trail. José +Perez could have had me killed, yes. Or he could have +had me before the judges for murder, but silence was +the thing he most wanted––for there is Doña Dolores +Terain yet to be won. He has sent me north that the +General Terain, her father, will think me out of his life. +One of the guards told an alcalde I was his wife, he was +sure that story would be repeated back to Hermosillo! +These are days in Sonora when no one troubles about one +woman or one child who is out of sight, and we may be +sure he and Conrad had a well-made story to tell. He +knows it is now all over with me, that I have a hate of +which he is afraid, so he does not have me shot;––he only +sends me to Soledad in the wilderness where fighting bands +of the revolution cross all trails, and his men have orders +that I am not to go out of the desert alive.”</p> +<p>“I see!” said Rotil thoughtfully, “and––it is all gone +now––the love of him?”</p> +<p>“All the love in the world is gone, amigo,” she said, +looking away from him through the barred window +where the night sky was growing bright from the rising +moon. “I was a child enchanted by the glory of the +world and his love words. Out of all that false glitter +of life I have walked, a blackened soul with a murderer’s +hand. How could love be again with me?”</p> +<p>He looked at her steadily, the slender thing of creamy +skin and Madonna eyes that had been the Dream of +Youth to him, the one devotee at an altar in whom he had +believed––nothing in the humanity of the world would +ever have faith of his again!</p> +<p>“That is so, Jocasta,” he said at last, “you are a +woman, and in the shadow. The little golden singing one is +gone out of your life, and the new music must be different! +I will think about that for you. Go now to your sleep, +for there is work of men to be done, and the night scarce +long enough for it.”</p> +<p>He opened the door for her and stood with bent head +as she passed. His men lounging in the patio could see +that manner of deference, and exchanged looks and comments. +To the victor belong the spoils in Mexico, and +here was a sweeping victory,––yet the general looked the +other way!</p> +<p>“Child, accompany the señora,” he said kindly to Tula +at the door. “Chappo, bring Marto to see me. The new +American capitan said he was a man of value, and the +lad was right. Work of importance waits for him tonight.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVIII_RAMON_ROTIL_DECIDES' id='CHAPTER_XVIII_RAMON_ROTIL_DECIDES'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> +<h3>RAMON ROTIL DECIDES</h3> +</div> +<p>Whatever the labors of Marto Cavayso for the +night they appeared to have been happy ones, for +ere the dawn he came to Kit’s door in great good humor.</p> +<p>“Amigo,” he said jovially, “you played me a trick and +took the woman, but what the devil is that to hold a +grudge for? My general has made it all right, and we +need help. You are to come.”</p> +<p>“Glad to,” agreed Kit, “but what of this guard duty?”</p> +<p>“Lock the door––there is but one key. Also the other +men are not sleeping inside the portal. It is by order of +General Rotil.”</p> +<p>Perez awoke to glare at his false major-domo, but +uttered no words. He had not even attempted conversation +with Kit since the evening before when he stated +that no Americano could fool him, and added his conviction +that the said Americano was a secret service man +of the states after the guns, and that Rotil was a fool!</p> +<p>Kit found Rotil resting in the chapel, looking fagged +and spent.</p> +<p>“Marto is hell for work, and I had to stay by,” he +grumbled with a grin. “Almost I sent for you. No +other man knows, and behold!”</p> +<p>Stacked on either side were packing cases of rifles and +ammunition, dozens and dozens of them. The dusty +canvas was back in its place and no sign to indicate +where the cases had come from.</p> +<p>“It is a great treasure chest, that,” stated Rotil, “and +we have here as much as the mules can carry, for the +wagons can’t go with us. But I want every case of this +outside the portal before dawn comes, and it comes quick! +It means work and there are only three of us, and this +limp of mine’s a trouble.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said Kit, stripping off his coat, “if the two +of you got them up a ladder inside, and down the steps +to this point I reckon three of us can get them across +that little level on record time. Say, your crew will +think it magic when guns and ammunition are let fall for +you by angels outside of the gate.”</p> +<p>“The thought will do no harm,” said Rotil. “Also +I am not sure but that you speak true, and the magic was +much needed when it came.”</p> +<p>They worked fast, and ere the first hint of dawn the +cases were stacked in imposing array on the plaza. And +no sign by which they could be traced. Rotil looked at +them, and chuckled at the wonder the men would feel.</p> +<p>“It is time they were called, for it is a long trail, go +you, Capitan, and waken them, tell them to get ready +the pack mules and get a move.”</p> +<p>“All right, but if they ask questions?”</p> +<p>“Look wise and say nothing! When they see the cases +they will think you either the devil or San Antonio to +find what was lost in the desert. It is a favor I am doing +you, señor.”</p> +<p>“Sure you are! If the Indians ever get the idea that +I can win guns from out the air by hokus-pokus, I will +be a big medicine chief, and wax fat under honors in +Sonora. Head me to them!”</p> +<p>Rotil had seen to it that though sentinels stood guard +at Soledad, none were near enough the plaza to interfere +with work of the night, and Kit found their main camp +down by the <i>acquia</i> a quarter of a mile away. He gave +orders as directed for the pack animals and cook wagon +over which a son of the Orient presided. That stolid +genius was already slicing deer meat for broiling, and +making coffee, of which he donated a bowl to Kit, also +a cart wheel of a <i>tortilla</i> dipped in gravy. Both were +joyously accepted, and after seeing that the men were +aroused from the blankets, he returned to the hacienda +full of conjecture as to the developments to be anticipated +from the night’s work. That reserve stock of ammunition +might mean salvation to the revolutionists.</p> +<p>Rain had fallen somewhere to the east in the night +time, and as the stars faded there were lines of palest +silver and palest gold in the grays of dawn on the mountains. +As he walked leisurely up the slight natural terrace +to the plaza, he halted a moment and laughed aloud +boyishly at a discovery of his, for he had solved the century-old +riddle of the view of El Alisal seen from the +“portal” of Soledad. The portal was not anyone of +the visible doors or gateways of the old mission, it was +the hidden portal of the picture,––once leading to a little +balcony under which the neophytes had gathered for the +morning blessing and daily commands of their superiors!</p> +<p>That explained its height from the floor. The door had +at some later period been sealed, and a room built against +it from the side towards the mountain. In the building +of the ranch house that old strong walled section of the +mission had been incorporated as the private chapel of +some pious ranchero. It was also very, very simple after +one knew of that high portal masked by the picture, and +after one traced the line of vision from the outside and +realized all that was hidden by the old harness room and +the fragmentary old walls about it. He chuckled to think +of how he would astonish Cap Pike with the story when +he got back. He also recalled that Conrad had unburdened +his heart to him with completeness because he +was so confident an American never <i>could</i> get back!</p> +<p>He was speculating on that ever-present problem when +he noted that light shone yellow in the dawn from the +plaza windows, and on entering the patio it took but a +glance to see that some new thing was afoot.</p> +<p>Padre Andreas, with his head upholstered in strips of +the table linen, was pacing the patio reciting in a murmuring +undertone, some prayer from a small open volume, +though there was not yet light enough to read. +Valencia was bustling into the room of Doña Jocasta with +an olla of warm water, while Tula bore a copper tray +with fruit and coffee.</p> +<p>“This is of a quickness, but who dare say it is not +an act for the blessing of God?” the padre said replying +in an absent-minded manner to the greeting of Kit.</p> +<p>“True, Padre, who can say?” agreed the latter politely, +without the slightest idea of what was meant.</p> +<p>But Marto, who fairly radiated happiness since his reinstatement, +approached with the word that General Rotil +would have him at breakfast, for which time was short.</p> +<p>“It is my regret that you do not ride with me, señor,” +said Rotil as he motioned him to a seat. “But there is +work to be done at Soledad for which I shall give you +the word. I am hearing that you would help recover +some of the poor ones driven south from Palomitas, if +they be left alive!”</p> +<p>“I am pledged to that, General,” stated Kit simply.</p> +<p>“Who has your pledge?”</p> +<p>“A dead man who cannot free me from it.”</p> +<p>“By God!” remarked Rotil in a surprised tone. “By +God, Don Pajarito, that is good! And it may be when +that pledge is kept, you may be free to join my children +in the fight? I make you a capitan at once, señor.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps, after–––”</p> +<p>“Sure,––after,” agreed Rotil chuckling. “For I tell +you there is work of importance here, and when I am +gone the thinking will be up to you! What message did +you give the muleteers?”</p> +<p>“To bring the animals to the plaza, and pack for the +trail all the provisions found there.”</p> +<p>“Provisions is good! They will burn with curiosity. +There could be fun in that if we had time to laugh and +watch them, but there is no time. Marto!”</p> +<p>Marto, on guard at the door, came forward.</p> +<p>“Has the Señor Don José Perez received my message +for conference?”</p> +<p>“Yes, my General. Except that he wished your messenger +in hell, he will be happy to join you according to +order.”</p> +<p>“Good!” grinned Rotil, “it is well to conduct these +matters with grace and ceremony where a lady is concerned. +Take him to the <i>sala</i>; it is illuminated in his +honor. Come, señor, I want for witness an Americano +who is free from Sonora influence.”</p> +<p>“Am I?” queried Kit dubiously. “I’m not so sure! +I seem all tangled up with Sonora influences of all shades +and varieties.”</p> +<p>Rotil’s jocularity disappeared as he entered the sala +where quill pen and ink and some blank sheets from an +old account book gave a business-like look to the table +where four candles made a radiance.</p> +<p>Perez was there, plainly nervous by reason of the +mocking civility of Marto. His eyes followed Rotil,––questioning, +fearful!</p> +<p>The latter passed him without notice and seated himself +at the table.</p> +<p>“Call the padre,” he said to Marto. But that was +scarce needed as the padre was hovering near the door +waiting for the word. He seated himself by the table +at a motion from Rotil.</p> +<p>The latter turned for the first time to Perez, and bestowed +on him a long, curious look.</p> +<p>“They tell me, señor, that you were about to take as +bride a lovely lady?”</p> +<p>Perez frowned in perplexity. Evidently this was the +last subject he had expected to hear touched upon.</p> +<p>“Perhaps so,” he said at last, “but if this is a question +of ransom we will not trouble the lady. I will arrange +your figures for that.”</p> +<p>“This is not a matter of figures, Señor Perez. It is +a marriage we are interested in, and it is all well arranged +for you. The padre here will draw up the contract +of marriage in the old form; it is better than the +manner of today. You will give him your name, the +names of your parents, the name of your parish and +abode.”</p> +<p>“I will see you damned first!”</p> +<p>“And, Padre,” continued Rotil, giving no heed to that +heartfelt remark, “use less than one-third of the page, +for there must be space for the record of the bride, and +below that the contract between the happy two with all +witnesses added.”</p> +<p>“If you think––” began Perez furiously.</p> +<p>“I do not think; I know, señor! Later you also will +know,” Rotil promised with grim certainty. “This marriage +is of interest to me, and has been too long delayed. +It is now for you to say if you will be a bridegroom in +chains, or if it please you to have the irons off.”</p> +<p>“This cannot be! I tell you a marriage is not legal +if–––”</p> +<p>“Oh, señor! Your experience is less than I thought,” +interrupted Rotil, “and you are much mistaken,––much! +We are all witnesses here. Señor Rhodes will be pleased +to unfasten those heavy chains to oblige the lady. The +chains might not be a pleasant memory to her. Women +have curious prejudices about such things! But it must +be understood that you stand quiet for the ceremony. +If not, this gun of mine will manage it that you stay +quiet forever.”</p> +<p>Perez stood up, baffled and beaten, but threatening.</p> +<p>“Take them off, you!” he snarled, “though it is a +hell of a ransom,––and that woman will pay. Let no +one forget that her pay will be heavy!”</p> +<p>“That paying is for afterwards!” decided Rotil airily, +“but here and now we men would see a wedding before +we leave Soledad. Capitan Rhodes, will you bring in +Doña Jocasta?”</p> +<p>Kit, in some wonder, went on the errand, and found +the women eager to deck her with blossoms and give some +joyous note to the wedding of the dawn, but she sat cold +and white with the flowers of the desert springtime about +her, and forbade them.</p> +<p>“He terrifies me much in sending that word to wake +me with this morning,” she protested. “I tell you I will +kill myself before I live one more day of life with José +Perez! I told him all my heart in the <i>sala</i> last night, and +it means not anything to Ramon Rotil;––he would tie me +in slavery to that man I hate!”</p> +<p>“Señora, I do not know what the general means, but +I know it is not that. His work is for your service, even +though appearance is otherwise.”</p> +<p>“You think that?”</p> +<p>“I almost know it.”</p> +<p>“Then I go,” she decided. “I think I would have to +go anyway, but the heart would be more heavy, <i>Santa +Maria</i>!––but this place of Soledad is strange in its ways.”</p> +<p>It was the first time he had seen her frightened, but her +mouth trembled, and her eyes sought the floor.</p> +<p>He reached out and took her hand; it was terribly +cold.</p> +<p>“Courage, and trust Rotil,” he said reassuringly. +“When you sift out the whole situation that is about all +left to any of us here in the desert.”</p> +<p>He led her along the corridor, the women following. +Men with pack animals were gathering in wonder around +the cases in the plaza, and through the portal they saw +the impromptu bridal procession, and fell silent. The +Americano appeared to have a hand in every game,––and +that was a matter of wonder.</p> +<p>As they entered, Padre Andreas was reading aloud the +brief history of Jocasta Benicia Sandoval, eldest daughter +of Teresa Sandoval and Ignatius Sanchez of Santa +Ysobel in the Sierras. Padre Andreas had balked at +writing the paternity of children of Teresa Sandoval, but +a revolver in Rotil’s hand was the final persuader.</p> +<p>“This is to be all an honest record for which there are +witnesses in plenty,” he stated. “Teresa Sandoval had +only one lover,––even though Padre Ignatius Sanchez +did call her daughters nieces of his! But the marriage +record of Señora Jocasta Sandoval shall have only +truth.” Jocasta wrote her name to the statement +as directed, and noted that José had already +signed.</p> +<p>She did not look at him, but moved nearer to Rotil and +kept her eyes on the table. He noted her shrinking and +turned to the priest.</p> +<p>“Señor,” he said, “these two people will write their +names together on the contract, but this is a marriage +without kisses or clasping of hands. It is a civil contract +bound by word of mouth, and written promise, under +witness of the church. Read the service.”</p> +<p>There was a slight hesitation on the part of Perez when +asked if he would take Jocasta Sandoval as wife, but the +gun of Rotil hastened his decision, and his voice was defiantly +loud. Jocasta followed quietly, and then in a +benediction which was emptiest mockery, José Perez and +Jocasta Sandoval were pronounced man and wife.</p> +<p>“May I now go?” she murmured, but the contract was +signed by all present before Rotil nodded to Kit.</p> +<p>“You will have the honor of conducting the Doña +Jocasta Perez to breakfast,” he said. “The rest of us +have other business here. Señora, will you do us the +favor to outline to this gentleman the special tasks you +would like attention given at once. There are some Indian +slaves in the south for whom the Palomitas people +ask help. You are now in a position to be of service there, +and it would be a good act with which to establish a new +rule at Soledad.”</p> +<p>“Thanks, General Rotil,” she answered, rather bewildered +by the swiftness with which he turned over to +her the duties devolving upon her newly acquired position. +“I am not wise in law, but what I can I will do.”</p> +<p>“And that will be nothing!” volunteered Perez. “A +woman of my name will not make herself common in the +markets or law courts,––to have her Indian ancestry cast +in my teeth!”</p> +<p>“As to that,” said Rotil humorously, “there is not so +much! The father of Teresa Sandoval was the priestly +son of a marquise of Spain! only one drop of Indian to +three of the church in the veins of Señora Perez, so you +perceive she has done honor to your house. You will +leave your name in good hands when God calls you to +judgment.”</p> +<p>Kit noted the sudden tension of Perez at the last sentence, +and a look of furtive, fearful questioning in his +eyes as he looked at Rotil, who was folding the marriage +contract carefully, wrapping it in a sheet of paper for +lack of an envelope.</p> +<p>But, as squire of dames, Kit was too much occupied +to give further heed to business in the <i>sala</i>. Doña +Jocasta expressed silently a desire to get away from there +as soon as might be; she looked white and worn, and cast +at Rotil a frightened imploring glance as she clung to +Kit’s arm. He thought he would have to carry her +before they crossed the patio.</p> +<p>“When Ramon laughs like that––” she began and +then went silent, shuddering. Kit, remembering the look +in the eyes of Perez, did not care to ask questions.</p> +<p>The older women went back to the kitchen to finish +breakfast and gossip over the amazing morning, but Tula +remained near Doña Jocasta,––seeing all and her ears +ever open.</p> +<p>Padre Andreas followed, under orders from Rotil, who +told him to do any writing required of him by the Señora +Perez, and arrange for safe couriers south when she +had messages ready. His knowledge of villages and +rancheros was more dependable than that of the vaqueros; +he would know the names of safe men.</p> +<p>Doña Jocasta sighed, and looked from one to the other +appealingly.</p> +<p>“It is much, very much to plan for before the sun +is showing,” she murmured. “Is there not some little +time to think and consider?”</p> +<p>“Even now the men of Ramon Rotil are packing the +beasts for the trail,” said the priest, “and he wants all +your plans and desires stated before he goes east.”</p> +<p>“<i>My</i> desires!” and her smile held bitterness as she +turned to Kit. “You, señor, have never seen the extent +of the Perez holdings in Sonora. They are so vast that +one simple woman like me would be lost in any plans of +change there. José Perez meant what he said;––no +woman can take control while he lives.”</p> +<p>“Still, there are some things a woman could do best,” +ventured Kit, “the things of mercy;” and he mentioned +the Palomitas slaves–––</p> +<p>“That is true. Also I am in debt for much friendship, +and this child of Palomitas must have the thing she asks. +Tell me the best way.”</p> +<p>“Learn from Perez which ranch of General Estaban +Terain shelters the political prisoners taken from the district +of Altar,” suggested Kit. “Either Perez or Conrad +can tell.”</p> +<p>Doña Jocasta looked at the priest.</p> +<p>“José Perez will hate you for this marriage, and we +must seek safety for you in some other place,” she said +kindly, “but you are the one most able to learn this +thing. Will it please you to try?”</p> +<p>Padre Andreas went out without a word. In his heart +he resented the manner of the marriage ceremony, and +scarce hoped Perez would be acquiescent or disposed to +further converse, and he personally had no inclination +to ask help of the General Rotil.</p> +<p>He was surprised as he crossed the patio to see Perez, +still free from chains, walking through the portal to the +plaza with Marto Cavayso beside him. He was led past +the ammunition cases, and the men in their jubilant work +of packing the mules. Far out up the valley to the north +a cloud of dust caught the red glow of sunrise, and the +priest knew the vaqueros with the Soledad cattle were +already on the trail for the main body of revolutionists +in the field.</p> +<p>Saddle horses were held a little apart in the plaza, and +Padre Andreas hastened his steps lest they mount and be +gone, but Marto spoke to him sharply.</p> +<p>“Walk in front to do your talking,” he suggested. +“This gentleman is not inviting company for his +<i>pasear</i>.”</p> +<p>José Perez turned a startled, piercing look on the priest.</p> +<p>“Did Rotil send you?” he demanded.</p> +<p>“No, señor, I came back to ask a simple thing concerning +the Altar people who went south for Yucatan. +Can you give me the name of the ranch where they are +held?”</p> +<p>“I can,––but I give nothing for nothing!” he said bitterly. +“Already I am caught in a trap by that marriage, +and I will see that the archbishop hears of your share +in it. Nothing for nothing!”</p> +<p>“Yet there may be some service I can give, or send +south, for you,” said the priest.</p> +<p>Perez regarded him doubtfully.</p> +<p>“Yes––you might get a message to General Terain +that I am a prisoner, on my own estate––if Rotil does +not have you killed on the road!”</p> +<p>“I could try,” agreed the priest. “I––I might secure +permission.”</p> +<p>“Permission?”</p> +<p>“It is true, señor. I could not attempt it without the +word of General Rotil,” announced Padre Andreas. “Of +what use to risk the life of a courier for no purpose? But +I make a bargain: if you will tell which ranch the Altar +Indians were driven to I will undertake to get word for +you to a friend. Of course I can get the information from +the German if you say no.”</p> +<p>“Damn the German!” swore Perez.</p> +<p>“Good Father,” said Marto, “you halt us on the way to +join the advance, and we have no mind to take all the dust +of the mule train. Make your talk of fewer words.”</p> +<p>“Shall I go to the German?” repeated the priest.</p> +<p>“No,––let him rot alone! The plantation is Linda +Vista, and Conrad lied to General Terain to get them +housed there. He thought they were rebels who raided +ranches in Altar,––political prisoners. Take General +Terain word that I am a prisoner of the revolutionists, +and–––”</p> +<p>“Señor, the sun is too high for idle talk,” said Marto +briefly, “and your saddle waits.”</p> +<p>The priest held the stirrup for José Perez, who took +the courtesy as a matter of course, turning in the saddle +and casting a bitter look at the sun-flooded walls of +Soledad.</p> +<p>“To marry a mistress and set her up as the love of +another lover––<i>two</i> other lovers!––is not the game of +a man,” he growled moodily. “If it was to do over, +I–––”</p> +<p>“Take other thoughts with you,” said Padre Andreas +sadly, “and my son, go with God!”</p> +<p>He lifted his hand in blessing, and stood thus after +they had turned away. Perez uttered neither thanks nor +farewell.</p> +<p>The men, busy with the final packing, stared after him +with much curiosity, and accosted the priest as he paced +thoughtfully back to the portal.</p> +<p>“Padre, is this ammunition a gift of Don José, or is +it magic from the old monks who hid the red gold of +El Alisal and come back here to guard it and haunt Soledad?” +inquired one of the boldest.</p> +<p>“There are no hauntings, and that red gold has led +enough men astray in the desert. It is best forgotten.”</p> +<p>“But strange things do come about,” insisted another +man. “Marto Cavayso swore he had witchcraft put on +him by the green, jewel eyes of Doña Jocasta, and you +see that since she follows our general he has the good luck, +and this ammunition comes to him from God knows +where!”</p> +<p>“It may be the Americano knows,” hazarded the first +speaker. “He took her from Marto, and rides ever beside +her. Who proves which is the enchanter?”</p> +<p>“It is ill work to put the name of ‘enchantment’ +against any mortal,” chided the priest.</p> +<p>“That may be,” conceded the soldier, “but we have +had speech of this thing, and look you!––Doña Jocasta +rode in chains until the Americano crossed her trail, and +Don Ramon, and all of us, searched in vain for the +American guns, until the Americano rode to Soledad! +Enchantment or not, he has luck for his friends!”</p> +<p>“As you please!” conceded the priest with more indifference +than he felt. The Americano certainly did not +belong to Soledad, and the wonder was that Ramon Rotil +gave him charge of so beauteous a lady. Padre Andreas +could easily perceive how the followers of Rotil thought +it enchantment, or any other thing of the devil.</p> +<p>Instinctively he disapproved of Rhodes’ position in +the group; his care-free, happy smile ill fitted the situation +at Soledad. Before the stealing away of Doña Jocasta +she had been as a dead woman who walked; her sense +of overwhelming sin was gratifying in that it gave every +hope of leading to repentance, but on her return the +manner of her behavior was different. She rode like +a queen, and even the marriage was accepted as a justice! +Padre Andreas secretly credited the heretic Americano +with the change, and Mexican girls put no such +dependence on a man outside of her own family,––unless +that man was a lover!</p> +<p>He saw his own influence set aside by the stranger and +the rebel leader, and with Doña Jocasta as a firebrand +he feared dread and awful things now that Rotil had +given her power.</p> +<p>He found her with bright eyes and a faint flush in +her cheeks over the letter Kit was writing to the south. +It was her first act as the wife of José Perez, and it +was being written to the girl whom Perez had hoped +to marry!</p> +<p>Kit got considerable joy in framing her request as +follows:</p> +<blockquote> +<p class='lalign'>To<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Señorita Dolores Terain,<br /> +<span class='indent4'> </span>Linda Vista Rancho, Sonora,</p> +<p><span class='smcap'>Honored Señorita</span>:</p> +<p>As a woman who desires to secure justice and mercy for +some poor peons of our district of Altar, I venture to address +you, to whom womanly compassion must belong as +does beauty and graciousness.</p> +<p>This is a work for the charity of women, rather than +debates in law courts by men.</p> +<p>I send with this the names of those poor people who were +herded south for slavery by Adolf Conrad, a German who +calls himself American. To your father, the illustrious General +Terain, this man Conrad represented these poor people +as rebels and raiders of this region. It is not true. They +were simple peaceful workers on little ranches.</p> +<p>They were given shelter at your rancho of Linda Vista +to work for their food until they could be deported, but I +send with this a payment of gold with which to repay any +care they have been, or any debts incurred. If it is not +enough, I pledge myself to the amount you will regard as +justice.</p> +<p>Dear Señorita, my husband, Don José, warns me that +women cannot manage such affairs, but we can at least try. +Parents wait here for sons and daughters, and little children +wait for their parents. Will you aid in the Christian task +of bringing them together quickly?</p> +<p class='ralign'>At your service with all respect,<span class='rindent8'> </span><br /> +<span class='smcap'>Jocasta Benicia Perez</span>,<span class='rindent6'> </span><br /> +Soledad Rancho, Sonora.<span class='rindent2'> </span></p> +</blockquote> +<p>“But you write here of gold sent by messenger, señor!––I +have no gold, only words can I send,” protested +Doña Jocasta helplessly.</p> +<p>“Ah, but the words are more precious than all,” Kit +assured her. “It is the right word we have waited for, +and you alone could give it, señora. These people have +held the gold ransom while waiting that word, and this +child can bring it when the time is right.”</p> +<p>Doña Jocasta regarded Tula doubtfully; she certainly +gave no appearance of holding wealth to redeem a pueblo.</p> +<p>“You,––the little one to whom even the Deliverer +listens?” she said kindly. “But the wealth of a little +Indian ranch would not seem riches to this illustrious +lady, the Doña Dolores Terain.”</p> +<p>“Yet will I bring riches to her or to you, Excellencia, +if only my mother and my sister are coming again to +Palomitas,” said Tula earnestly.</p> +<p>“But whence comes wealth to you in a land where +there is no longer wealth for anyone?”</p> +<p>Kit listened with little liking for the conversation after +the padre entered. It was a direct question, and to be +answered with directness, and he watched Tula anxiously +lest she say the wrong thing. But she told the straight +truth in a way to admit of no question.</p> +<p>“Long ago my father got gold for sacred prayer reasons; +he hid it until he was old; when he died he made +gift of it to me that my mother and sister buy freedom. +That is all, Excellencia, but the gold is good gold.”</p> +<p>She slipped her hand under her skirt and unfastened +the leather strings of the burro-skin belt,––it fell heavily +on the tile floor. She untied the end of it and poured a +handful on the table.</p> +<p>“You see, señora, there is riches enough to go with +your words, but never enough to pay for them.”</p> +<p>“<i>Santa Maria!</i>” cried the amazed priest. “That is +<i>red</i> gold! In what place was it found?”</p> +<p>Tula laid her hand over the nuggets and faced him.</p> +<p>“That secret was the secret of Miguel who is dead.”</p> +<p>“But––some old Indian must know–––”</p> +<p>Tula shook her head with absolute finality.</p> +<p>“No old Indian in all the world knows that!” she said. +“This was a secret of the youth of Miguel, and only +when old and dying did he give it for his people. This I,––Tula, +child of Miguel tell you.”</p> +<p>Padre Andreas looked from the girl to Kit and back +again, knowing that the death of Miguel was a recent +thing since it had occurred after the stealing of the +women.</p> +<p>“Where did your father die?” he asked.</p> +<p>“In the hills of the desert.”</p> +<p>“And––who had absolving and burial of him?”</p> +<p>“Absolving I do not know, but this man, his friend, +had the making of the grave,” she said, indicating Kit, +and the eyes of the priest rested again on Kit with a +most curious searching regard. Evidently even this little +Indian stray of the desert arrived at good fortune under +the friendship of the American stranger,––and it was another +added to the list of enchantings!</p> +<p>“Ah,” he murmured meaningly, “then this strange +señor also has the knowing of this Indian gold? Is it +truly gold of the earth, or witches’ gold of red clay?” +and he went nearer, reaching his hand to touch it.</p> +<p>“Why all this question when the child offers it for a +good Christian use?” demanded Doña Jocasta. “See, +here is a piece of it heavy enough to weigh down many +lumps of clay, and north or south it will prove welcome +ransom. It is a miracle sent by the saints at this time.”</p> +<p>“Would the saints send the red gold of El Alisal to a +heretic instead of a son of the church?” he asked. “And +this is that gold for which the padres of Soledad paid +with their lives long ago. There was never such red gold +found in Sonora as that, and the church had its own claim +on it;––it is mission gold!”</p> +<p>“No, not now,” said Tula, addressing Doña Jocasta,––“truly +not now! They claimed it long ago, but the +holding of it was a thing not for them. Fire came out of +the clouds to kill them there, and no one saw them alive +anymore, and no other priest ever found the gold. This +much is found by Miguel, for a dead man’s promise!”</p> +<p>“The girl speaks straight, señora,” ventured Kit. “I +have already told General Rotil of the promise, but no +good will come of much talk over the quality of gold for +that ransom. To carry that message south and bring +back the women is a task for council, but outside these +walls, no tongue must speak of the gold, else there would +be no safety for this maid.”</p> +<p>“Yet a priest may ask how an Americano comes far +from his home to guard gold and a maid in Sonora?” +retorted Padre Andreas. “Strange affairs move these +days in Altar––guns, ammunition, and the gold of dead +men! In all these things you have a say, señor, yet you +are but young in years, and–––”</p> +<p>“Padre,” interrupted Doña Jocasta with a note of command, +“he was old enough to save this child from starvation +in the desert, and he was old enough to save me when +even you could no longer save me, so why object because +he has guarded wealth, and means to use it in a way +of mercy? Heretic he may be, but he has the trust of +Ramon Rotil, and of me. Also it is forbidden to mention +this belt or what it covers. I have given my word, +and this is no time to halt the task we have set. It would +better serve those lost people if you help us find a messenger +who is safe.”</p> +<p>It was the first time the new Señora Perez assumed a +tone of authority at Soledad, and Kit Rhodes thanked his +lucky stars that she was arrayed with him instead of +against him, for her eyes glowed green lightning on the +priest whose curiosity had gotten him into trouble. Kit +could not really blame him, for there was neither priest +nor peon of the land who had not had visions of conquest +if only the red gold of the Alisal should be conveniently +stumbled upon!</p> +<p>And Tula listened to the words of Doña Jocasta as she +would have listened to a god.</p> +<p>“I go,” she said eagerly. “The trail it is strange to +me, but I will find that way. I think I find in the dark +that trail on which the mother of me was going!”</p> +<p>Doña Jocasta patted the hand of the girl, but looked +at Kit. “That trail is not for a maid,” she said meaningly. +“I came over it, and know.”</p> +<p>“I think it is for me,” he answered. “The promise +was mine. I know none of the people, but the names are +written. It is eighty miles.”</p> +<p>“Three days.”</p> +<p>“More, double that,” he said thoughtfully, and the eyes +of Tula met his in disapproval. It was the merest hint of +a frown, but it served. She could do the errand better +than she could guard the rest of the gold. If her little +belt was lost it was little, but if his store should be found +it would be enough to start a new revolution in Sonora;––the +men of Rotil and the suspicious padre would unite +on the treasure trail. It was the padre who gave him +most uneasiness, because the padre was guessing correctly! +The dream of a mighty church of the desert to +commemorate all the ruined missions of the wilderness, +was a great dream for the priest of a little pueblo, and +the eyes of the Padre Andreas were alight with keen,––too +keen, anticipation.</p> +<p>“I go,” stated Tula again. “No other one is knowing +my people.”</p> +<p>“That is a true word,” decided Padre Andreas, “a +major-domo of evil mind at Linda Vista could take the +gold and send north whatever unruly vagabonds he had +wished to be free from. Let the maid go, and I can +arrange to see her there safe.”</p> +<p>This kind offer did not receive the approval deserved. +Kit wished no man on the trail with Tula who knew of +the gold, and Tula herself was not eager to journey into +unknown regions with a man of religion, who had already +learned from Valencia of the elaborate ceremony planned +for a “Judas day!” Little though Tula knew of churchly +observances, she had an instinctive fear that she would +be detained in the south too long to officiate in this special +ceremony on which she had set her heart.</p> +<p>“Not with a priest will I go,” she announced. “He +would shut me in a school, and in that place I would +die. Clodomiro can go, or Isidro, who is so good and +knowing all our people.”</p> +<p>“That is a good thought,” agreed Doña Jocasta, who +had no desire that Padre Andreas meet the family of +Terain and recount details of the Perez marriage,––not +at least until she had worn her official title a little longer +and tested the authority it gave her. “That is a good +thought, for I have no wish that my house be left without +a priest. Señor Rhodes, which man is best?”</p> +<p>But before Kit could answer Ramon Rotil stood in +the door, and his eyes went to the papers on the table. +Tula had recovered her belt, and fastened it under the +<i>manta</i> she wore.</p> +<p>“So! you are working in council, eh?” he asked. “And +have arrived at plans? First your own safety, señora?”</p> +<p>“No, señor,––first the bringing back of the people +driven off by the slavers. The letter is written; this +child is to take it because the people are her people, but +a safe man is wanted, and these two I cannot let go. You +know José Perez, and his wife must not be without a man +of religion as guard, yet he alone would not save me +from others, hence the American señor–––”</p> +<p>“Sure, that is a safe thought,” and he took the seat +offered by Kit. But he shook his head after listening to +their suggestions.</p> +<p>“No. Isidro is too old, and Clodomiro with his flying +ribbands of a would-be lover, is too young for that trail. +You want––you want–––”</p> +<p>He paused as his mind evidently went searching among +his men for one dependable. Then he smiled at Kit.</p> +<p>“You saved me the right man, señor! Who would be +better than the foreman of Soledad? Would it not be +expected that Señora Perez would send the most important +of the ranchmen? Very well then. Marto is +safe, he will go.”</p> +<p>“But Marto––” began Padre Andreas, when Rotil +faced about, staring him into silence.</p> +<p>“Marto will return here to Soledad today,” he said, +and the face of the priest went pale. It was as if he had +said that the task of Marto on the east trail would be +ended.</p> +<p>“Yes, Marto Cavayso has been at Hermosillo,” assented +Doña Jocasta. “He will know all the ways to +arrive quickly.”</p> +<p>“That will be attended to. Will you, señor, see to it +that horse and provision are made ready for the trail? +And you, señora? Soledad in the wilderness is no good +place for a lady. When this matter of the slaves is arranged, +will it please you to ride south, or north? Troops +of the south will be coming this way;––it will be a land +of soldiers and foraging.”</p> +<p>“How shall I answer that?” murmured Doña Jocasta +miserably. “In the south José Perez may make life a not +possible thing for me,––and in the north I would be a +stranger.”</p> +<p>“José Perez will not make trouble; yet trouble might +be made,––at first,” said Rotil avoiding her eyes, and +turning again to Kit. “Señor, by the time Marto gets +back from the south, the pack mules will be here again. +Until they are gone from Soledad I trust you in charge of +Señora Perez. She must have a manager, and there is +none so near as you.”</p> +<p>“At her service,” said Kit promptly, “but this +place–––”</p> +<p>“Ai, that is it,” agreed Rotil. “North is the safer place +for women alone, and you––did you not say that on +Granados there were friends?”</p> +<p>“Why, yes, General,” replied Kit. “My friend, Captain +Pike, is somewhere near, and the owner of Granados +is a lady, and among us we’ll do our best. But it’s a hard +trip, and I’ve only one gun.”</p> +<p>“You will take your choice of guns, horses, or men,” +decided Rotil. “That is your work. Also you will take +with you the evidence of Señora Perez on that matter of +the murder. The padre can also come in on that,––so it +will be service all around.”</p> +<p>Chappo came to the door to report that all was ready +for the trail, and Rotil stood up, and handed to Doña +Jocasta the marriage contract.</p> +<p>“Consider the best way of protecting this until you +reach an alcalde and have a copy made and witnessed,” +he said warningly. “It protects your future. The fortunes +of war may take all the rest of us, but the wife of +Perez needs the record of our names; see to it!”</p> +<p>She looked up at him as if to speak, but no words +came. He gazed curiously at her bent head, and the +slender hands over the papers. In his life of turmoil and +bloodshed he had halted to secure for her the right to a +principality. In setting his face to the east, and the battle +line, he knew the chance was faint that he would ever +see her again, and his smile had in it a touch of self-derision +at the thought,––for after all he was nothing +to her!</p> +<p>“So––that is all,” he said, turning away. “You come +with me a little ways, señor, and to you, señora, <i>adios</i>!”</p> +<p>“Go with God, Ramon Rotil,” she murmured, “and if +ever a friend is of need to you, remember the woman to +whom you gave justice and a name!”</p> +<p>“<i>Adios</i>,” he repeated, and his spurs tinkled as he strode +through the patio to the portal where the saddle horses +were waiting. The pack mules were already below the +mesa, and reached in a long line over the range towards +the cañon of the eastern trail.</p> +<p>“You have your work cut out,” he said to Kit. “For +one thing, Marto Cavayso will carry out orders, but you +must not have him enter a room where Doña Jocasta +may be. It would be to offend her and frighten him. He +swears to the saints that he was bewitched. That is as +may be, but it is an easy way out! When the pack mules +come back, and Marto is here, it is for you two to do +again the thing we did last night. I may need Soledad +on another day, and would keep all its secrets. After you +have loaded the last of the guns it is best for you to go +quickly. Here is a permit in case you cross any land +held by our men;––it is for you, your family, and all +your baggage without molestation. Señora Perez has the +same. This means you can take over the border any of +the furnishings of Soledad required by the lady for a +home elsewhere. The wagons sent north by Perez will +serve well for that, and they are hers.”</p> +<p>“But if he should send men of his own to interfere–––”</p> +<p>“He won’t,” stated Rotil. “You are capitan, and +Soledad is under military rule. There is only one soul +here over which your word is not law. I have given the +German Judas to your girl, and the women can have their +way with him. He is as a dead man; call her.”</p> +<p>There was no need, for Tula had followed at a discreet +distance, and from beside a pillar gazed regretfully +after her hero, the Deliverer, whom she felt every man +should follow.</p> +<p>“<i>Oija, muchacha!</i>” he said as Kit beckoned her forward, +“go to Fidelio. He is over there filling the cantins +at the well. Tell him to give you the key to the +quarters of El Aleman, and hearken you!––I wash my +hands of him from this day. If you keep him, well, but +if he escapes, the loss is to you. I go, and not again will +Ramon Rotil trap a Judas for your hellishness.”</p> +<p>Tula sped to Fidelio, secured the key and was back to +hold the stirrup of Rotil as he was helped to the saddle.</p> +<p>“If God had made me a man instead of a maid, I +would ride the world as your soldier, my General,” she +said, holding the key to her breast as an amulet.</p> +<p>“Send your lovers instead,” he said, and laughed, +“for you will have them when you get more beef on +your bones. <i>Adios</i>, soldier girl!”</p> +<p>She peered up at him under her mane of black hair.</p> +<p>“Myself,––I think that is true,” she stated gravely, +“also my lovers, when they come, must follow you! +When I see my own people safe in Palomitas it may be +that I, Tula, will also follow you,––and the help of the +child of Miguel may not be a little help, my General.”</p> +<p>Kit Rhodes alone knew what she meant. Her intense +admiration for the rebel leader of the wilderness had +brought the glimmer of a dream to her;––the need of +gold was great as the need of guns, and for the deliverer +of the tribes what gift too great?</p> +<p>But the others of the guard laughed at the crazy saying +of the brown wisp of a girl. They had seen women of +beauty give him smiles, and more than one girl follow +his trail for his lightest word, but to none of them +did it occur that this one called by him the young crane, +or the possessor of many devils, could bring more power +to his hand than a regiment of the women who were +comrades of a light hour.</p> +<p>But her solemnity amused Rotil, and he swept off +his hat with exaggerated courtesy.</p> +<p>“I await the day, Tulita. Sure, bring your lovers,––and +later your sons to the fight! While you wait for +them tell Marto Cavayso he is to have a care of you as +if you were the only child of Ramon Rotil! I too will +have a word with him of that. See to it, Capitan of the +roads, and <i>adios!</i>”</p> +<p>He grinned at the play upon the name of Rhodes, and +whirled his horse, joining his men, who sat their mounts +and watched at a little distance.</p> +<p>Within the portal was gathered all those left of the +household of Soledad to whom the coming and the +going of the revolutionary leader was the great event +of their lives, and all took note of the title of “Capitan” +and the fact that the Americano and the Indian girl had +his last spoken words.</p> +<p>They had gone scarce a mile when Fidelio spurred +his horse back and with Mexican dash drew him back +on his haunches as Kit emerged from the corridor.</p> +<p>“General Rotil’s compliments,” he said with a grin, +“and Marto will report to you any event requiring written +record,––and silence!”</p> +<p>“Say that again and say it slow,” suggested Kit.</p> +<p>“That is the word as he said it, Capitan, ‘requiring +the writing of records, and––silence!’”</p> +<p>“I get you,” said Kit, and with a flourish and a clatter, +Fidelio was soon lost in the dust.</p> +<p>Kit was by no means certain that he did “get” him. +He felt that he had quite enough trouble without addition +of records and secrecy for acts of the Deliverer.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIX_THE_RETURN_OF_TULA' id='CHAPTER_XIX_THE_RETURN_OF_TULA'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> +<h3>THE RETURN OF TULA</h3> +</div> +<p>The sentinel palms of Soledad were sending long +lines of shadows toward the blue range of the +Sierras, and gnarled old orange trees in the ancient +mission garden drenched the air with fragrance from +many petals.</p> +<p>There had been a sand storm the day before, followed +by rain, and all the land was refreshed and sparkling. +The pepper trees swung tassels of bloom and the flaming +coral of the occotilla glowed like tropic birds poised on +wide-reaching wands of green. Meadow larks echoed +each other in the tender calls of nesting time, and from +the jagged peaks on the east, to far low hills rising out +of a golden haze in the west, there was a great quiet +and peace brooding over the old mission grounds of +the wilderness.</p> +<p>Doña Jocasta paced the outer corridor, watched somberly +by Padre Andreas on whom the beauty of the +hour was lost.</p> +<p>“Is your heart turned stone that you lift no hand, or +speak no word for the soul of a mortal?” he demanded. +“Already the terrible women of Palomitas are coming +to wait for their Judas, and this is the morning of the +day!”</p> +<p>“It is no work of mine, Padre,” she answered wearily. +“I am sick,––here!––that the beast has been all +these days and nights under a roof near me. I know how +the women feel, though I think I would not wait, as they +have waited,––for Good Friday.”</p> +<p>“It is murder in your heart to harbor such wickedness +of thought,” he insisted. “Your soul is in jeopardy +that you do not contemplate forgiveness. Even though +a man be a heretic, a priest must do his office when it +comes to a sentence of death. After all––he is a human.”</p> +<p>“I do not know that,” replied Doña Jocasta thoughtfully, +and she sank into a rawhide chair in the shade of +a pillar. “Listen, Padre. I am not learned in books, +but I have had new thoughts with me these days. Don +Pajarito is telling me of los Alemanos all over the +world;––souls they have not, and serpents and toads are +their mothers! Here in Mexico we have our flag from +old Indian days with the eagle and the snake. Once +I heard scholars in Hermosillo talk about that; they +said it was from ancient times of sky worship, and the +bird was a bird of stars,––also the serpent.”</p> +<p>Padre Andreas lifted his brows in derision at the +childishness of Indian astrology.</p> +<p>“Myself, I think the Indian sky knowers had the +prophet sight,” went on Doña Jocasta. “They make +their eagle on the standard and they put the serpent +there of the reason that some day a thing of poison +would crawl to the nest of the eagle of Mexico to comrade +there. It has crawled over the seas for that, +Padre, and the beak and claws and wing of the eagle +must all do battle to kill the head and the heart of it;––for +the heart of a serpent dies hard, and they breed +and hatch their eggs everywhere in the soil of Mexico. +Señor Padre, the Indian women of Palomitas are right!––the +girl Tula is a child of the eagle, and her stroke at +the heart of the German snake will be a true stroke. I +will not be one to give the weak word for mercy.”</p> +<p>Her gaze, through half-closed lids, was directed towards +the far trail of the cañon where moving dots of +dark marked the coming of the Palomitas women. A +ray of reflected light touched the jewel green of her +eyes like shadowed emeralds in their dusky casket, and +the priest, constantly proclaiming the probable loss of +her soul, could not but bring his glance again and again +to the wondrous beauty of her. She had bloomed like +a royal rose in the days of serene rest at Soledad.</p> +<p>“If the heretic Americano gives you these thoughts +which are not Christian, it will be a day of good luck +when you see the last of him,” was his cold statement as +he watched her. “My mind is not well satisfied as to +his knowledge of secret things here in Sonora. The +Indians say he is an enchanter or Ramon Rotil would +never have left him here as capitan with you,––and that +belt of gold–––”</p> +<p>“But it was not the belt of the Americano!”</p> +<p>“No, but he <i>knows</i>! I tell you that gold is of the gold +lost before we were born,––the red gold of the padres’ +mine!”</p> +<p>“But the old women are telling me that the gold was +Indian gold long before Spanish priests saw the land! +Does the Indian girl then not have first right?”</p> +<p>“None has right ahead of the church, since all those +pagans are under the rule of church! They are benighted +heathen who must come under instruction and +authority, else are they as beasts of the field.”</p> +<p>“Still,––if the girl makes use of her little heritage for +a pious purpose–––”</p> +<p>“Her intent has nothing to do with that secret knowledge +of the Americano!” he insisted. “Has he bewitched +you also that you have so little interest in a +mine of gold in anyone of the arroyas of your land?”</p> +<p>She smiled at that without turning her head.</p> +<p>“If a mountain of gold should be uncovered at Soledad, +of what difference to me? Would he let a woman +make traffic with it? Surely not.”</p> +<p>“He?”</p> +<p>“José Perez,––who else?”</p> +<p>Padre Andreas closed his eyes a moment and arose, +but did not answer. He paced the length of the corridor +and back before he spoke.</p> +<p>“It is for you to ask the Americano that the prisoner +be given a priest if he wants prayer,” he said returning +to their original subject of communication. “It is a +duty that I tell you this; it is your own house.”</p> +<p>“Señor Rhodes is capitan,” she returned indifferently. +“It is his task to give me rest here to prepare for that +long north journey. I do not rest in my mind or my +soul when you talk to me of the German snake, so I +will ask that you speak with Capitan Rhodes. He has +the knowing of Spanish.”</p> +<p>“Too much for safety of us,” commented the priest +darkly. “Who is to say how he uses it with the Indians? +It is well known that the American government +would win all this land, and work with the Indians that +they help win it.”</p> +<p>“So everyone is saying in Hermosillo,” agreed Doña +Jocasta, “but the American capitan has not told me lies +of any other thing, and he is saying that is a lie made by +foreign people. Also––” and she looked at him doubtfully, +“the man Conrad cursed your name yesterday +as a damned Austrian whose country had cost his country +much.”</p> +<p>“My mother was not Austrian!” retorted Padre Andreas, +“and all my childhood was in Mexico. But how +did Conrad know?”</p> +<p>“He told Elena it was his business to know such +things. The Germans help send many Mexican priests +north over the border. He had the thought that you are +to go with me for some reason political of which I knew +nothing!”</p> +<p>“I? Did <i>I</i> come in willingness to this wilderness? +From the beginning to the end I am as a prisoner here;––as +much a prisoner as is El Aleman behind the bars! +No horse is mine;––if I walk abroad for my own health +a vaquero ever is after me that I ride back with no +fatigue to myself! It is the work of the heretic Americano +who will have his own curse for it!”</p> +<p>He fumed nervously over the unexpected thrust of +Austrian ancestry, and the beautiful eyes of Doña Jocasta +regarded him with awakened interest. She had +never thought of his politics, or possible affiliations, but +after all it was true that he had been stationed at a +pueblo where everything on wheels must pass coming +north towards the border, also that was a very small +pueblo to support a padre, and perhaps–––</p> +<p>“Padre,” she said after a moment, “but for the +Americano you would be a dead man. Think you what +Ramon would have done to a priest who let a vaquero +carry me to the ranges! Also I came back to Soledad +because the Americano told me it was only duty and +justice that I come for your sake as Ramon has no liking +for priests. You see, señor, our American capitan +of Soledad is not so bad;––he had a care of you.”</p> +<p>“Too much a care of me!” retorted the priest. +“Know you not that the door of my sleeping room is +bolted each night, and unbolted at dawn? He laughs +with a light heart, and sings foolishly,––your new Americano; +but under that cloak of the simple his plotting is +not idle!”</p> +<p>“As to that, I think his light heart is not so light +these days,” said Doña Jocasta. “Two days now the +Indian girl and Marto Cavayso could have been back in +Soledad, and he is looking, looking ever over that empty +trail. Before the sun was above the sierra today he was +far there coming across the mesa.”</p> +<p>“A man does not go in the dark to look for a trail,” +said Padre Andreas meaningly. “He unbolted my door +on his return, and to me he looked as a man who has +done work that was heavy. What work is there for him +to do alone in the hills?”</p> +<p>“Who knows? A horse herd is somewhere in a cañon +beyond. There are colts, and the storm of yesterday +might make trouble. The old father of Elena says that +storm has not gone far and will come back! And while +the Americano rides to learn of colts, and strays, he also +picks the best mules for our journey to the border.”</p> +<p>“Does he find the best mules with packs already on +their backs in the cañons?” demanded the padre skeptically. +“From my window I saw them return.”</p> +<p>“I also,” confessed Doña Jocasta amused at the persistence +of suspicion, “and the load was the water bags +and <i>serape</i>! Does any but a fool go into the wilderness +without water?”</p> +<p>“You cover him well, señora, but I think it was not +horses he went in the night to count,” said the priest +sarcastically. “Gold in the land is to him who finds it,––and +I tell you the church will hear of that red gold belt +from me! Also there will be a new search for it! If it +is here the church will see that it does not go with +American renegades across the border!”</p> +<p>“Padre, all the land speaks peace today, yet you are +as a threatening cloud over Soledad!”</p> +<p>“I speak in warning, not threat,––and I am not the +only cloud in the sky. The women of vengeance are +coming beyond there where the willows are green.”</p> +<p>Doña Jocasta looked the way he pointed, and stood +up with an exclamation of alarm.</p> +<p>“Clodomiro! Call Clodomiro!” she said hurriedly, +and as the priest only stared at her, she sped past him to +the portal and called the boy who came running from the +patio.</p> +<p>She pointed as the priest had pointed.</p> +<p>“They are strangers, they do not know,” she said. +“Kill a horse, but meet them!”</p> +<p>His horse was in the plaza, and he was in the saddle +before she finished speaking, digging in his heels and +yelling as though leading a charge while the frightened +animal ran like a wild thing.</p> +<p>Doña Jocasta stood gazing after him intently, shading +her eyes with her hand. Women came running out of +the patio and Padre Andreas stared at her.</p> +<p>“What new thing has given you fear?” he asked in +wonder.</p> +<p>“No new thing,––a very old thing of which Elena told +me! That green strip of willow is the edge of a quicksand +where no one knows the depth. The women are +thinking to make a short path across, and the one who +leads will surely go down.”</p> +<p>The priest stared incredulous.</p> +<p>“How a quicksand and no water?” he asked doubtfully.</p> +<p>“There <i>is</i> water,––hidden water! It comes under the +ground from the hills. In the old, old days it was a +wide well boiling like a kettle over a fire, also it was +warm! Then sand storms filled that valley and filled +the well. It is crusted over, but the boiling goes on far +below. Elena said not even a coyote will touch that +cañoncita though the dogs are on his trail. The Indians +say an evil spirit lives under there, but the women of +Mesa Blanca and Palomitas do not know the place.”</p> +<p>“It should have a fence,––a place like that.”</p> +<p>“It had, but the wind took it, and, as you see, Soledad +is a forgotten place.”</p> +<p>They watched Clodomiro circle over the mesa trail +and follow the women down the slope of the little +valley. It was fully three miles away, yet the women +could be seen running in fear to the top of the mesa +where they cast themselves on the ground resting from +fright and exertion.</p> +<p>Quite enjoying his spectacular dash of rescue, Clodomiro +cantered back along the trail, and when he reached +the highest point, turned looking to the southeast where, +beyond the range, the old Yaqui trail led to the land of +despair.</p> +<p>He halted there, throwing up his hand as if in answer +to some signal, and then darted away, straight across the +mesa instead of toward the buildings.</p> +<p>“Tula has come!” said Doña Jocasta in a hushed +voice of dread. “She has come, and Señor Rhodes is +needed here. That coming of Tula may bring an end +to quiet days,––like this!”</p> +<p>She sighed as she spoke, for the week had been as a +space of restful paradise after the mental and physical +horrors she had lived through.</p> +<p>In a half hour Clodomiro came in sight again just +as Kit rode in from the west.</p> +<p>“Get horses out of the corrals,” he called, “all of +them. That trail has been long even from the railroad.”</p> +<p>It was done quickly, and the vaqueros rode out as +Clodomiro reached the plaza.</p> +<p>“<i>Tula?</i>” asked Kit.</p> +<p>“Tula is as the living whose mind is with the dead,” +said the boy. “Many are sick, some are dead,––the +mother of Tula died on the trail last night.”</p> +<p>“Good God!” whispered Kit. “After all that hell +of a trail, to save no one for herself! Where is Marto?”</p> +<p>“Marto walks, and sick ones are on his horse. I +go back now that Tula has this horse.”</p> +<p>“No, I will go. Stay you here to give help to the +women. Bring out beds in every corridor. Bring straw +and blankets when the beds are done.”</p> +<p>Doña Jocasta put out her hand as he was about to +mount.</p> +<p>“And I? What task is mine to help?” she asked, +and Kit looked down at her gravely.</p> +<p>“Señora, you have only to be yourself, gracious and +kind of heart. Also remember this is the first chance +in the lands of Soledad to show the natives they have +not alone a padrona, but a protecting friend. In days +to come it may be a memory of comfort to you.”</p> +<p>Then he mounted, and led the string of horses out +to meet the exiles. While she looked after him murmuring, +“In days to come?”</p> +<p>And to the padre she said, “I had ceased to think of +days to come, for the days of my life had reached the +end of all I could see or think. He gives hope even in +the midst of sadness,––does the Americano.”</p> +<p>Kit met the band where the trail forked to Palomitas +and Mesa Blanca. Some wanted to go direct to their +own homes and people, while Marto argued that food +and rest and a priest awaited them at Soledad, and +because of their dead, they should have prayers.</p> +<p>Tula said nothing. She sat on the sand, and caressed +a knife with a slightly curved blade,––a knife not Mexican, +yet familiar to Kit, and like a flash he recalled +seeing one like it in the hand of Conrad at Granados.</p> +<p>She did not even look up when he halted beside her +though the others welcomed with joy the sight of the +horses for the rest of the trail.</p> +<p>“Tula!” he said bending over her, “Tula, we come +to welcome you,––my horse is for your riding.”</p> +<p>She looked up when he touched her.</p> +<p>“Friend of me,” she murmured wistfully, “you made +me put a mark at that place after we met in the first +dawn,––so I was knowing it well. Also my mother was +knowing,––and it was where she died last night under +the moon. See, this is the knife on which Anita died in +that place. It is ended for us––the people of Miguel, +and the people of Cajame!”</p> +<p>“Tula, you have done wonderful things, many deeds +to make the spirit of Miguel proud. Is that not so, my +friends?” and he turned to the others, travel-stained, +sick and weary, yet one in their cries of the gratitude +they owed to Tula and to him, by which he perceived +that Tula had, for her own reasons, credited him with +the plan of ransom.</p> +<p>They tried brokenly to tell of their long fear and +despair in the strangers’ land,––and of sickness and +deaths there. Then the miracle of Tula walking by the +exalted excellencia of that great place, and naming one +by one the Palomitas names, forgetting none;––until all +who lived were led out from that great planting place +of sugar cane and maize, and their feet set on the +northern way.</p> +<p>When they reached this joyous part of the recital +words failed, and they wept as they smiled at him and +touched the head of Tula tenderly. Even a gorgeous +and strange <i>manta</i> she now wore was pressed to the lips +of women who were soon to see their children or their +desolate mothers.</p> +<p>His eyes grew misty as they thronged about her,––the +slender dark child of the breed of a leader. The new +<i>manta</i> was of yellow wool and cotton, bordered with +dull green and little squares of flaming scarlet woven +in it by patient Indian hands of the far south coast. It +made her look a bit royal in the midst of the drab-colored, +weary band.</p> +<p>She seemed scarcely to hear their praise, or their sobs +and prayers. Her face was still and her gaze far off +and brooding as her fingers stroked the curved blade +over and over.</p> +<p>“An Indian stole that knife from the German after +his face was cut with it by her sister,” said Marto +Cavayso quietly while the vaqueros were helping the +weaker refugees to mount, two to each animal. “That +man gives it to her at the place where Marta, her +mother, died in the night. So after that she does not +sleep or eat or talk. It is as you see.”</p> +<p>“I see! Take you the others, and Tula will ride +on my saddle,” said Kit in the same tone. Then he +pointed to the beautifully worked <i>manta</i>, “Did she +squander wealth of hers on that?”</p> +<p>Marto regarded him with an impatient frown––it +seemed to him an ill moment for the American joke.</p> +<p>“Tula had no wealth,” he stated, “we lived as we +could on the fine gold you gave to me for myself.”</p> +<p>“Oh yes, I had forgotten that,” declared Kit in some +wonder at this information, “but <i>mantas</i> like that do +not grow on trees in Sonora.”</p> +<p>“That is a gift from the very grand daughter of the +General Terain,” said Marto. “Also if you had seen +affairs as they moved there at Linda Vista you would +have said as does Ramon Rotil, that this one is daughter +of the devil! I was there, and with my eyes I saw it, +but if I had not,––an angel from heaven would not make +me believe!”</p> +<p>“What happened?”</p> +<p>“The Virgin alone knows! for women are in her care, +and no man could see. As ordered, I went to the gates +of that hacienda very grand. <i>Sangre de Christo!</i> if +they had known they would have strung me to a tree +and filled me with lead! But I was the very responsible +vaquero of Rancho Soledad in Altar––and the lizards of +guards at the gate had no moment of suspicion. I told +them the Indian girl carried a letter for the eyes of +their mistress and the sender was Doña Jocasta Perez. +At that they sent some messenger on the run, for they +say the Doña Dolores is fire and a sword to any servant +of theirs who is slow in her tasks.”</p> +<p>“I heard she was a wonder of pride and beauty,” said +Kit. “Did you see her?”</p> +<p>“That came later. She sent for Tula who would +give the letter to no one,––not even to me. The guard +divided their dinner with me while I waited; if they +were doing work for their general I was doing work +for mine and learned many things in that hour! At +last Tula came walking down that great stair made from +one garden to another where laurel trees grow, and with +her walked a woman out of the sun. There is no other +word, señor, for that woman! Truly she is of gold +and rose; her mother’s family were of old Spain and +she is a glory to any day!”</p> +<p>“Did you feel yourself under witchcraft––once +more?” queried Kit.</p> +<p>“<i>Sangre de Christo!</i> Never again! But José Perez +had a good eye for making choice of women,––that is a +true word! So Doña Dolores walked down to the drive +with that <i>manta</i> over her arm, also a belt in her hand,––a +belt of gold, señor, see!”</p> +<p>To the astonished gaze of Kit Rhodes he drew from +under his coat the burro-skin belt he had directed the +making of up there in the hidden cañon of El Alisal. +Marto balanced it in his hand appreciatively.</p> +<p>“And there was more of it than this!” he exulted, +“for the way on the railroad was paid out of it for all +the Indians. That is why we lost two days,––our car +was put on a side track, and for the sick it was worse +than to walk the desert.”</p> +<p>“Yes; well?”</p> +<p>“Doña Dolores got in a fine carriage there. <i>Madre +de Dios!</i> what horses! White as snow on the sierras, +and gold on all the harness! Me, I am dreaming of +them since that hour! They got in, Tula also in her +poor dress, and a guard told me to follow the carriage. +It was as if San Gabriel made me invitation to enter +heaven! Twenty miles we went through that plantation, +a deep sea of cane, señor, and maize of a tree size,––the +richness there is riches of a king. Guards were +everywhere and peons rode ahead to inform the major-domo, +and he came riding like devils to meet Doña +Dolores Terain. I am not a clever man, señor, but even +I could see that never before had the lady of Linda +Vista made herself fatigue by a plantation ride there, +and I think myself he had a scare that she see too much! +At the first when Doña Dolores had speech with him, it +was easy to see he blamed me, and his eyes looked once +as if to scorch me with fire. Then she pointed to the +child beside her, and gave some orders, and he sent a +guard with Tula through another gate into a great +corral where men and women were packed like cattle. +Señor, I have been in battles, but I never heard screams +of wounded like the screams of joy I heard in that +corral! Some of these Indians dropped like dead and +were carried out of the gate that way as Tula stood +inside and named the names.</p> +<p>“When it was over that woman of white beauty told +that manager to have them all well fed, and given meat +for the journey, for he would answer to the general +if any stroke of harm came to anyone of them on the +plantation of Linda Vista. Then she gave to my hand +the belt of gold to care for the poor people on the trail;––also +she said the people were a free gift to Doña Jocasta +Perez, and there was no ransom to pay. Myself I think +the Doña Dolores had happiness to tell the general, her +father, that José Perez had a wife, for that plan of +marriage was but for politics. <i>Sangre de Christo!</i> what +a woman! When all was done she held out the <i>manta</i> to +Tula, and her smile was as honey of the mesquite, and +she said, ”In my house you would not take the gift +I offered you, but now that you have your mother, and +your friends safe, will you yet be so proud?“ and Tula +with her arms around her mother, stood up and let the +thing be put over her head as you see, and that, Señor +Capitan, is the way of the strange <i>manta</i> of Tula.”</p> +<p>“And that?” queried Kit, indicating the belt. Marto +smiled a bit sheepishly and lowered his voice because the +last of the horses were being loaded with the homesick +human freight, and the chatter, and clatter of hoofs had +ceased about them.</p> +<p>“Maybe it is the <i>manta</i>, and maybe I am a fool,” +he confessed, “but she told me to spend not one ounce +beyond what was needed, for it was to use only for +these sick and poor people of hers. There was a good +game going on in that train,––and fools playing! I could +have won every peso if I had put up only a little handful +of the nuggets. That is why I think my general knew +when he said she was the devil, for she stood up in +that straight rich garment of honor and looked at me––only +looked, not one spoken word, señor!––and on my +soul and the soul of my mother, the wish to play in that +game went away from me in that minute, and did not +come back! How does a man account for a thing like +that; I ask you?”</p> +<p>Kit thought of that first night on the treasure trail in +the mountain above them, and smiled.</p> +<p>“I can’t account for it, though I do recognize the +fact,” he answered. “It is not the first time Tula has +ruled an outfit, and it is not the <i>manta</i>!”</p> +<p>Then he walked over and lifted her from the ground +as he would lift a child, she weighed so little more!</p> +<p>“Little sister,” he said kindly, “now that you are +rested, you will ride my horse to Soledad. Your big +work is done for your people. All is finished.”</p> +<p>“No, señor,––not yet is the finish,” she said shaking +her head, “not yet!”</p> +<p>Kit felt uncomfortably the weight in his pocket of +the key of Conrad’s room. He had made most solemn +promise it would be guarded till she came. He had +studied up some logical arguments to present to her +attention for herding the German across the border as +a murderer the United States government would deal +justice to, but after the report of Marto concerning her +long trail, and the death of her mother in the desert, he +did not feel so much like either airing ideas or asking +questions. He was rather overwhelmed by the knowledge +that she had not allowed even Marto to guess that the +bag of gold was her very own!</p> +<p>He took her on the saddle in front of him because +she drooped so wearily there alone, and her head sank +against his shoulder as if momentarily she was glad +to be thus supported.</p> +<p>“Poor little eaglet!” he said affectionately, “I will +take you north to Cap Pike, and someone else who +will love you when she hears all this; and in other years, +quieter years, we will ride again into Sonora, and–––”</p> +<p>She shook her head against his shoulder, and he +stopped short.</p> +<p>“Why, Tula!” he began in remonstrance, but she +lifted her hand with a curious gesture of finality.</p> +<p>“Friend of me,” she said in a small voice with an +undertone of sad fatefulness, “words do not come today. +They told you I am not sleeping on this home trail, and +it is true. I kept my mother alive long after the death +birds of the night were calling for her––it is so! Also +today at the dawn the same birds called above me,––above +<i>me</i>! and look!”</p> +<p>They had reached the summit of the valley’s wall and +for a half mile ahead the others were to be seen on the +trail to Soledad, but it was not there she pointed, but to +the northeast where a dark cloud hung over the mountains. +Its darkness was cleft by one lance of lightning, +but it was too far away for sound of thunder to reach +them.</p> +<p>“See you not that the cloud in the sky is like a bird,––a +dark angry bird? Also it is over the trail to the north, +but it is not for you,––<i>I</i> am the one first to see it! Señor, +I will tell you, but I telling no other––I think my +people are calling me all the time, in every way I look +now. I no knowing how I go to them, but––I think I +go!”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='CHAPTER_XX_EAGLE_AND_SERPENT' id='CHAPTER_XX_EAGLE_AND_SERPENT'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2> +<h3>EAGLE AND SERPENT</h3> +</div> +<p>Marto Cavayso gave to Kit Rhodes the burro-skin +belt and a letter from Doña Dolores Terain +to the wife of José Perez.</p> +<p>“My work is ended at the hacienda until the mules +come back for more guns, and I will take myself to the +adobe beyond the corrals for what rest there may be. +You are capitan under my general, so this goes to you +for the people of the girl he had a heart for. Myself,––I +like little their coyote whines and yells. It may be a +giving of thanks, or it may be a mourning for dead,––but +it sounds to me like an anthem made in hell.”</p> +<p>He referred to the greeting songs of the returned +exiles, and the wails for the dead left behind on the trail. +The women newly come from Palomitas sat circled on +the plaza, and as food or drink was offered each, a portion +was poured on the sand as a libation to the ghosts +of the lately dead, and the name of each departed was +included in the wailing chant sung over and over.</p> +<p>It was a weird, hypnotic thing, made more so by the +curious light, yellow and green in the sky, preceding that +dark cloud coming slowly with sound of cannonading +from the north. Though the sun had not set, half the +sky was dark over the eastern sierras.</p> +<p>“The combination is enough to give even a sober man +the jim-jams,” agreed Kit. “Doña Jocasta is sick with +fear of them, and has gone in to pray as far from the +sound as possible. The letter will go to her, and the +belt will go to Tula who may thank you another day. +This day of the coming back she is not herself.”</p> +<p>“Mother of God! that is a true word. No girl or +woman is like that!”</p> +<p>The priest, who had talked with the sick and weary, +and listened to their sobs of the degradation of the slave +trail, had striven to speak with Tula, who with head +slightly drooped looked at him under her straight brows +as though listening to childish things.</p> +<p>“See you!” muttered Marto. “That <i>manta</i> must +have been garb of some king’s daughter, and no common +maid. It makes her a different thing. Would you not +think the padre some underling, and she a ruler giving +laws?”</p> +<p>For, seated as she was, in a chair with arms, her robe +of honor reached straight from her chin to her feet, giving +her appearance of greater height than she was possessed +of, and the slender banda holding her hair was of +the same scarlet of the broideries. Kit remembered calling +her a young Cleopatra even in her rags, and now he +knew she looked it!</p> +<p>He was not near enough to hear the words of the +priest, but with all his energy he was striving to win +her to some view of his. She listened in long silence +until he ceased.</p> +<p>Then her hand went under her <i>manta</i> and drew out +the curved knife.</p> +<p>She spoke one brief sentence, and lifted the blade over +her head. It caught the light of the hovering sun, and +the Indians near enough to hear her words set up a +scream of such unearthly emotion that the priest turned +ashen, and made the sign to ward off evil.</p> +<p>It was merely coincidence that a near flash of lightning +flamed from the heavens as she lifted the knife,––but +it inspired every Indian to a crashing cry of exultation.</p> +<p>And it did not end there, for a Palomitas woman had +carried across the desert a small drum of dried skin +stretched over a hollow log, and at the words of Tula +she began a soft tum-tum-tum-tum on the hidden instrument. +The sound was at first as a far echo of the +thunder back of the dark cloud, and the voices of the +women shrilled their emphasis as the drum beat louder, +or the thunder came nearer.</p> +<p>Kit Rhodes decided Marto was entirely correct as to +the inspiration back of that anthem.</p> +<p>“<i>Sangre de Christo!</i> look at that!” muttered Marto, +who meant to turn his back on the entire group, yet was +held by the fascination of the unexpected.</p> +<p>Four Indian youths with a huge and furious bull came +charging down the mesa towards the corral. A <i>reata</i> +fastened to each horn and hind foot of the animal was +about the saddle horn of a boy, and the raging bellowing +creature was held thus at safe distance from all. The +boys, shouting with their joy of victory, galloped past +the plaza to where four great stakes had already been +driven deep in the hard ground. To those stakes the +bull would be tied until the burden was ready for his +back––and his burden would be what was left of +“Judas” when the women of the slave trail got through +with him!</p> +<p>“God the father knows I am a man of no white +virtues,” muttered Marto eyeing the red-eyed maddened +brute, “but here is my vow to covet no comradeship of +aught in the shape of woman in the district of Altar––bred +of the devil are they!”</p> +<p>He followed after to the corral to watch the tying of +the creature, around which the Indian men were gathered +at a respectful distance.</p> +<p>But Rhodes, after one glance at the bellowing assistant +of Indian vengeance, found himself turning again +to Tula and the padre. That wild wail and the undertone +of the drum was getting horribly on his nerves,––yet +he could not desert, as had Marto.</p> +<p>Tula sat as before, but with the knife held in her open +hand on the arm of the chair. She followed with a +grim smile the careering of the bull, then nodded her +head curtly to the priest and turned her gaze slowly +round the corridor until she saw Rhodes, and tilted back +her head in a little gesture of summons.</p> +<p>“Well, little sister,” he said, “what’s on your +mind?”</p> +<p>“The padre asks to pray with El Aleman. I say yes, +for the padre has good thoughts in his heart,––maybe +so! You have the key?”</p> +<p>“Sure I have the key, but I fetch it back to you when +visitors start going in, and––oh yes––there’s your belt +for your people.”</p> +<p>“No; you be the one to give,” she said with a glance +of sorrow towards a girl who was youngest of the slaves +brought back. “You, amigo, keep all but the key.”</p> +<p>“As you say,” he agreed. “Come along, padre, you +are to get the privilege you’ve been begging for, and I +don’t envy you the task.”</p> +<p>Padre Andreas made no reply. In his heart he blamed +Rhodes that the prisoner had not been let escape during +the absence of the girl, and also resented the offhand +manner of the young American concerning the duty of a +priest.</p> +<p>The sun was at the very edge of the world, and all +shadows spreading for the night when they went to the +door of Conrad’s quarters. Kit unlocked the door and +looked in before opening wide. The one window faced +the corral, and Conrad turned from it in shaking horror.</p> +<p>“What is it they say out there?” he shouted in fury. +“They call words of blasphemy, that the bull is Germany, +and ‘Judas’ will ride it to the death! They are +wild barbarians, they are–––”</p> +<p>“Never mind what they are,” suggested Kit, “here is +a priest who thinks you may have a soul worth praying +for, and the Indians have let him come––once!”</p> +<p>Then he let the priest in and locked the door, going +back to Tula with the key. She sat where he had left +her, and was crooning again the weird tuneless dirge +at which Marto had been appalled.</p> +<p>But she handed him a letter.</p> +<p>“Marto forgot. It was with the Chinaman trader +at the railroad,” she said and went placidly on fondling +the key as she had fondled the knife, and pitching her +voice in that curious falsetto dear to Indian ceremonial.</p> +<p>He could scarce credit the letter as intended for himself, +as it was addressed in a straggling hand filling all +the envelope, to Capitan Christofero Rhodes, Manager +of Rancho Soledad, District of Altar, Sonora, Mexico, +and in one corner was written, “By courtesy of Señor +Fidelio Lopez,” and the date within a week. He opened +it, and walked out to the western end of the corridor +where the light was yet good, though through the barred +windows he could see candles already lit in the shadowy +<i>sala</i>.</p> +<p>The letter was from Cap Pike, and in the midst of all +the accumulated horror about him, Kit was conscious of +a great homesick leap of the heart as he skimmed the +page and found her name––“Billie is all right!”</p> +<blockquote> +<p>How are you, Capitan? (began the letter). That fellow +Fidelio rode into the <i>cantina</i> here at La Partida today. He +asked a hell’s slew of questions about you, and Billie and me +nearly had fits, for we thought you were sure dead or held +for ransom, and I give it to you straight, Kit, there isn’t a +peso left on the two ranches to ransom even Baby Buntin’ if +the little rat is still alive, and that ain’t all Kit: it don’t +seem possible that Conrad and Singleton mortgaged both +ranches clear up to the hilt, but it sure has happened, every +acre is plastered with ten per cent paper and the compound +interest strips it from Billie just as sure as if it was droppin’ +through to China. When Conrad was on the job he had it +all blanketed, but now saltpeter can’t save it without cash. +Billie is all right, but some peaked with worry. So am I. +But you cheer up, for I got plans for a hike up into Pinal +County for us three on a search for the Lost Dutchman +Mine, lost fifty years and I have a hunch we can find it, got +the dope from an old half breed who knew the Dutchman. +So don’t you worry about trailing home broke. The Fidelio +hombre said to look for you in six days after Easter, and +meet you with water at the Rio Seco, so we’ll do that. He +called you capitan and said the Deliverer had made you an +officer; how about it? He let loose a line of talk about your +two women in the outfit, but I sort of stalled him on that, +so Billie wouldn’t get it, for I reckon that’s a greaser lie, Kit, +and you ain’t hitched up to no gay Juanita down there. I +had a monkey and parrot time to explain even that Tula +squaw to Billie, for she didn’t savvy––not a copper cent’s +worth! She is right here now instructin’ me, but I won’t let +her read this, so don’t you worry. She says to tell you it +looks at last like our old eagle bird will have a chance to flop +its wings in France. The pair of us is near about cross-eyed +from watchin’ the south trail into Altar, and the east trail +where the troops will go! She says even if we are broke +there is an adobe for you at Vijil’s, and a range for Buntin’ +and Pardner. Billie rides Pardner now instead of Pat.</p> +<p>I reckon that’s all Kit, and I’ve worked up a cramp on this +anyway. I figured that maybe you laid low down there till +the Singleton murder was cleared up, but I can alibi you on +that O. K., when Johnny comes marchin’ home! So don’t +you worry.</p> +<p class='ralign'>Yours truly,<span class='rindent11'> </span><br /> +Pike.<span class='rindent4'> </span></p> +</blockquote> +<p>He read it over twice, seeking out the lines with <i>her</i> +name and dwelling on them. So Billie was riding Pardner,––and +Billie had a camp ready for him,––and Billie +couldn’t savvy even a little Indian girl in his outfit––<i>say!</i></p> +<p>He was smiling at that with a very warm glow in his +heart for the resentment of Billie. He could just imagine +Pike’s monkey and parrot time trying to make +Billie understand accidents of the trail in Sonora. He +would make that all clear when he got back to God’s +country! And the little heiress of Granados ranches +was only an owner of debt-laden acres,––couldn’t raise a +peso to ransom even the little burro! Well, he was +glad she rode Pardner instead of another horse; that +showed–––</p> +<p>Then he smiled again, and drifted into dreams. He +would let Bunting travel light to the Rio Seco, and then +load him for her as no burro ever was loaded to cross +the border! He wondered if she’d tell him again he +couldn’t hold a foreman’s job? He wondered–––</p> +<p>And then he felt a light touch on his arm, and turned +to see the starlike beauty of Doña Jocasta beside him. +Truly the companionship of Doña Jocasta might be a +more difficult thing to explain than that of the Indian +girl of a slave raid!</p> +<p>Her face was blanched with fear, and her touch +brought him back from his vision of God’s country to the +tom-tom, and the weird chant, and the thunder of storm +coming nearer and nearer in the twilight.</p> +<p>“Señor!” she breathed in terror, “even on my knees +in prayer it is not for anyone to shut out this music of +demons. Look! Yesterday she was a child of courage +and right, but what is she today?”</p> +<p>She pointed to Tula and clung to him, for in all the +wild chorus Tula was the leader,––she who had the +words of ancient days from the dead Miguel. She sat +there as one enthroned draped in that gorgeous thing, +fit, as Marto said, for a king’s daughter, while the others +sat in the plaza or rested on straw and blankets in the +corridor looking up at her and shrilling savage echoes to +the words she chanted.</p> +<p>“And that animal,––I saw it!” moaned Doña Jocasta. +“Mother of God! that I should deny a priest who would +only offer prayers for that wicked one who is to be +tortured on it! Señor, for the love of God give me a +horse and let me go into the desert to that storm, any +place,––any place out of sight and sound of this most +desolate house! The merciful God himself has forsaken +Soledad!”</p> +<p>As she spoke he realized that time had passed while +he read and re-read and dreamed a dream because of +the letter. The sun was far out of sight, only low hues +of yellow and blue melting into green to show the illumined +path it had taken. By refraction rays of copper +light reached the zenith and gave momentarily an unearthly +glow to the mesa and far desert, but it was only +as a belated flash, for the dusk of night touched the edge +of it.</p> +<p>And the priest locked in with Conrad had been forgotten +by him! At any moment that girl with the key +might give some signal for the ceremony, whatever it +was, of the death of the German beast!</p> +<p>“Sure, señora, I promise you,” he said soothingly, +patting her hand clinging to him. “There is my horse +in the plaza, and there is Marto’s. We will get the +padre, and both of you can ride to the little adobe +down the valley where Elena’s old father lives. He is +Mexican, not Indian. It is better even to kneel in prayer +there all the night than to try to rest in Soledad while +this lasts. At the dawn I will surely go for you. Come,––we +will ask for the key.”</p> +<p>Together they approached Tula, whose eyes stared +straight out seeing none of the dark faces lifted to hers, +she seemed not to see Kit who stopped beside her.</p> +<p>“Little sister,” he said, touching her shoulder, “the +padre waits to be let out of the room of El Aleman, and +the key is needed.”</p> +<p>She nodded her head, and held up the key.</p> +<p>“Let me be the one,” begged Doña Jocasta,––“I +should do penance! I was not gentle in my words to the +padre, yet he is a man of God, and devoted. Let me be +the one!”</p> +<p>The Indian girl looked up at that, and drew back the +key. Then some memory, perhaps that kneeling of +Doña Jocasta with the women of Palomitas, influenced +her to trust, and after a glance at Kit she nodded her +head and put the key in her hand.</p> +<p>“You, señor, have the horses,” implored Doña Jocasta, +“and I will at once come with Padre Andreas.”</p> +<p>“<i>Pronto!</i>” agreed Kit, “but I must get you a <i>serape</i>. +Rain may fall from that cloud.”</p> +<p>She seemed scarcely to hear him as she sped along the +patio towards the locked door. Kit entered his own +room for a blanket just as she fitted the key in the lock, +and spoke the padre’s name.</p> +<p>The next instant he heard her screams, and a door +slam shut, and as he came out with the blanket, he saw +the priest dash toward the portal leading from the patio +to the plaza.</p> +<p>He ran to her, lifting her from the tiles where she +had been thrown.</p> +<p>“Conrad!” she cried pointing after the flying figure. +“There! Quickly, señor, quickly!”</p> +<p>He jerked open the door and looked within, a still +figure with the face hidden, crouched by a bench against +the wall. In two strides Kit crossed from the door and +grasped the shoulder, and the figure propped there fell +back on the tiles. It was the dead priest dressed in the +clothes of Conrad, and the horror of that which had +been a face showed he had died by strangulation under +the hands of the man for whom he had gone to pray.</p> +<p>Doña Jocasta ran wildly screaming through the patio, +but the Indian voices and the drum prevented her from +being heard until she burst among them just as Conrad +leaped to the back of the nearest horse.</p> +<p>“El Aleman! El Aleman!” she screamed pointing to +him in horror. “He has murdered the padre and taken +his robe. It is El Aleman! Your Judas has killed your +priest!”</p> +<p>Kit ran for his own horse, but with the quickness of +a cat Tula was before him in the saddle, and whirling +the animal, leaning low, and her gorgeous <i>manta</i> streaming +behind like a banner she sped after the German +screaming, “Judas! Judas! Judas of Palomitas!”</p> +<p>And, as in the other chants led by her, the Indian +women took up this one in frenzied yells of rage.</p> +<p>The men of the corral heard and leaped to saddles to +follow the flying figures, but Kit was ahead,––not much, +but enough to be nearest the girl.</p> +<p>Straight as an arrow the fugitive headed for Mesa +Blanca, the nearest ranch where a fresh horse could be +found, and Doña Jocasta and some of the women without +horses stood in the plaza peering after that wild race +in the gray of the coming night.</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_4' id='linki_4'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-356.jpg' alt='' title='' width='375' height='572' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +The Indian girl was steadily gaining on the German.<br /> +</p> +</div> +<p>A flash of lightning outlined the three ahead, and a +wail of utter terror went up from them all.</p> +<p>“Mother of God, the cañon of the quicksand!” cried +Doña Jocasta.</p> +<p>“Tula! Tula! Tula!” shrilled the Indian women.</p> +<p>Tula was steadily gaining on the German, and Kit +was only a few rods behind as they dashed down the +slight incline to that too green belt in the floor of the +brown desert.</p> +<p>He heard someone, Marto he thought, shouting his +name and calling “<i>Sumidero! Sumidero!</i>” He did not +understand, and kept right on. Others were shouting at +Tula with as little result, the clatter of the horses and +the rumble of the breaking storm made all a formless +chaos of sound.</p> +<p>The frenzied scream of a horse came to him, and another +lightning flash showed Conrad, ghastly and staring, +leap from the saddle––in the middle of the little +valley––and Tula ride down on top of him!</p> +<p>Then a rope fell around Kit’s shoulders, pinioning his +arms and he was jerked from the horse with a thud +that for a space stunned him into semi-unconsciousness, +but through it he heard again the pitiful scream of a +dumb animal, and shouts of Marto to the frenzied +Indians.</p> +<p>“Ha! Clodomiro, the <i>reata</i>! Wait for the lightning, +then over her shoulders! Only the horse is caught;––steady +and a true hand, boy! Ai-yi! You are master, +and the Mother of God is your help! Run your horse +back,––run, curse you! or she will sink as he sinks! +<i>Sangre de Christo!</i> she cuts the <i>reata</i>!”</p> +<p>Kit struggled out of the rope, and got to his feet in +time to see the flash of her knife as she whirled to her +victim. Again and again it descended as the man, now +submerged to the waist, caught her. His screams of +fear were curdling to the blood, but high above the German +voice of fear sounded the Indian voice of triumph, +and from the vengeful cry of “Judas! Judas! Judas +of the world!” her voice turned sharply to the high +clear chant Kit had heard in the hidden cañon of the +red gold. It was as she said––there would be none of +her caste and clan to sing her death song to the waiting +ghosts, and she was singing it.</p> +<p>As those weird triumphant calls went out from the +place of death every Indian answered them with shouts as +of fealty, and in the darkness Kit felt as if among a +circle of wolves giving tongue in some signal not to +be understood by men.</p> +<p>He could hear the sobs of men and boys about him, +but not a measure of that wild wail failed to bring the +ever recurring response from the brown throats.</p> +<p>Marto, wet and trembling, cursed and prayed at the +horror of it, and moved close to Kit in the darkness.</p> +<p>“Jesus, Maria, and José!” he muttered in a choked +whisper, “one would think the fathers of these devils +had never been christened! <i>Sangre de Christo!</i> look at +that!”</p> +<p>For in a vivid sheet of lightning they saw a terrible +thing.</p> +<p>Tula, on the shoulders of the man, stood up for one +wavering instant and with both hands raised high, she +flung something far out from her where the sands were +firm for all but things of weight. Then her high triumphant +call ended sharply in the darkness as she cast +herself forward. She died as her sister had died, and +on the same knife.</p> +<p>Doña Jocasta stumbled from a horse, and clung to Kit +in terror. “Mother of God!” she sobbed. “It is as I +said! She is the Eagle of Mexico, and she died clean––with +the Serpent under her feet!”</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>In a dawn all silver and gold and rose after the storm, +there was only a trace at the edge of the sand where two +horses had carried riders to the treacherous smiling +arroya over which a coyote would not cross.</p> +<p>And one of the Indian women of Palomitas tied a +<i>reata</i> around the body of her baby son, and sent him to +creep out as a turtle creeps to that thing cast by Tula +to the women cheated of their Judas.</p> +<p>The slender naked boy went gleefully to the task as +to a new game, and spit in the dead face as he dragged +it with him to his mother who had pride in him.</p> +<p>It was kicked before the women back over the desert +to Soledad, and the boys used it for football that day, +and tied what was left of it between the horns of the +roped wild bull at the corral. The bellowing of the +bull when cut loose came as music to the again placid +Indian women of Palomitas. They were ready for the +home trail with their exiles. It had been a good ending, +and their great holiday at Soledad was over.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXI_EACH_TO_HIS_OWN' id='CHAPTER_XXI_EACH_TO_HIS_OWN'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2> +<h3>EACH TO HIS OWN</h3> +</div> +<p>A straggling train of pack mules followed by +a six-mule wagon, trailed past Yaqui Springs ten +days later, and was met there by the faithful Chappo and +two villainous looking comrades, who had cleaned out +the water holes and stood guard over them until arrival +of the ammunition train.</p> +<p>“For beyond is a dry hell for us, and on the other +side the Deliverer is circled by enemy fighters who would +trap him in his own land. He lies hid like a fox in the +hills waiting for this you bring. Water must not fail, +and mules must not fail; for that am I here to give +the word for haste.”</p> +<p>“But even forty mule loads will not serve him long,” +said Kit doubtfully.</p> +<p>“Like a fox in the hills I tell you, Señor Capitan,––and +only one way into the den! Beyond the enemy he +has other supplies safe––this is to fight his way to it. +After that he will go like a blaze through dry meadows +of zacatan.”</p> +<p>Kit would have made camp there for the night, but +Chappo protested.</p> +<p>“No, señor! Every drop in the sand here is for the +mules of the army. It is not my word, it is the word of +my general. Four hours north you will find Little +Coyote well. One day more and at the crossing of Rio +Seco, water will be waiting from the cold wells of La +Partida. It is so arrange, señor, and the safe trail is +made for you and for excellencia, the señora. In God’s +name, take all your own, and go in peace!”</p> +<p>“But the señora is weary to death, and–––”</p> +<p>“That is true, Capitan,” spoke Doña Jocasta, who +drooped in the saddle like a wilted flower. “But the +señora will not die, and if she does it is not so much +loss as the smallest of the soldiers of El Gavilan. We +will go on, and go quickly, see!––there is yet water in +the cantin, and four hours of trail is soon over.”</p> +<p>Ugly Chappo came shyly forward and, uncovered, +touched the hem of her skirt to his lips.</p> +<p>“The high heart of the excellencia gives life to the +men who fight,” he said and thrust his hand in a pocket +fastened to his belt. “This is to you from the Deliverer, +señora. His message is that it brought to him +the lucky trail, and he would wish the same to the +Doña Jocasta Perez.”</p> +<p>It was the little cross, once sent back to her by a peon +in bitterness of soul, and now sent by a general of +Mexico with the blessing of a soldier.</p> +<p>“Tell him Jocasta takes it as a gift of God, and his +name is in her prayers,” she said and turned away.</p> +<p>Clodomiro pushed forward,––a very different Clodomiro, +for the fluttering bands of color were gone from +his arms and his hair––the heart of the would-be bridegroom +was no longer his. He was stripped as for the +trail or for war, and fastened to his saddle was the +gun and ammunition he had won from Cavayso who +had gone quickly onward with his detachment of the +pack.</p> +<p>But Clodomiro halted beside Chappo, regardless of +need for haste on the trail, and asked him things in that +subdued Indian tone without light, shade, or accent, +in which the brown brothers of the desert veil their +intimate discourse.</p> +<p>“There, beyond!” said Chappo, “two looks on the +trail,” and he pointed west. “Two looks and one water +hole, and if wind moves the sand no one can find the +way where we go. It is not a trail for boys.”</p> +<p>“I am not now a boy,” said Clodomiro, “and when +the safety trail of the señora is over–––”</p> +<p>But Chappo waved him onward, for the wagon and +the pack mules, and even little gray Bunting had turned +reluctant feet north.</p> +<p>Clodomiro had come from Soledad because Elena,––who +never had been out of sight of the old adobe walls,––sat +on the ground wailing at thought of leaving her old +sick father and going to war, for despite all the persuasions +of Doña Jocasta, Elena knew what she knew, +and did not at all believe that any of them would see +the lands of the Americano,––not with pack mules of +Ramon Rotil laden with guns!</p> +<p>“If Tula had lived, no other would have been asked,” +Rhodes had stated. “But one is needed to make camp +for the señora on the trail,––and to me the work of the +packs and the animals.”</p> +<p>“That I can do,” Clodomiro offered. “My thought +was to go where Tula said lovers of hers must go, and +that was to El Gavilan. But this different thing can +also be my work to the safe wells of the American. That +far I go.”</p> +<p>Thus the three turned north from the war trail, and +Clodomiro followed, after making a prayer that the +desert wind would hear, and be very still, and fill no +track made by the mules with the ammunition.</p> +<p>This slight discussion at the parting of the ways concerning +two definite things,––need of haste, and conserving +of water,––left no moment for thought or query of +the packs of furnishings deemed of use to Señora Perez +in her removal to the north.</p> +<p>Doña Jocasta herself had asked no question and taken +no interest in them. Stripped of all sign of wealth and +in chains, she had ridden into Soledad, and in comfort +and much courtesy she was being conducted elsewhere. +How long it might endure she did not know, and no +power of hers could change the fact that she had been +made wife of José Perez;––and at any turn of any road +luck might again be with his wishes, and her estate fall +to any level he choose to enforce.</p> +<p>At dusk they reached the Little Coyote well, and had +joy to find water for night and morning, and greasewood +and dead mesquite wood for a fire. The night had +turned chill and Clodomiro spread the <i>serape</i> of Doña +Jocasta over a heap of flowering greasewood branches. +It was very quiet compared with the other camps on +the trail, and had a restful air of comfort, and of that +Jocasta spoke.</p> +<p>“Always the fear is here, señor,” she said touching her +breast. “All the men and guns of Ramon Rotil did not +make that fear go quiet. Every cañon we crossed I was +holding my breath for fear of hidden men of José Perez! +You did not see him in the land where he is strong; but +men of power are bound to him there in the south, and––against +one woman–––”</p> +<p>“Señora, I do not think you have read the papers +given to you by Padre Andreas to put with the others +given by General Rotil,” was Kit’s quiet comment. He +glanced toward the well where the boy was dipping water +into a wicker bottle. “Have you?”</p> +<p>“No, señor, it is my permit to be passed safely by all +the men of Ramon Rotil,” she said. “That I have not +had need of. Also there is the record that the American +murder at Granados was the crime of Conrad.”</p> +<p>“But, señora, there is one other paper among them.––I +would have told you yesterday if I had known your +fear. I meant to wait until the trail was ended, but–––”</p> +<p>“Señor!” she breathed leaning toward him, her great +eyes glowing with dreadful question, “<i>Señor!</i>”</p> +<p>“I know the paper, for I signed it,” said Kit staring +in the leaping blaze. “So did the padre. It is the certificate +of the burial of José Perez.”</p> +<p>“Señor! <i>Madre de Dios!</i>” she whispered.</p> +<p>“Death reached him on his own land, señora. We +passed the grave the first day of the trail.”</p> +<p>Her face went very white as she made the sign of +the cross.</p> +<p>“Then he––Ramon–––?”</p> +<p>“No,––the general did not see Perez on the trail. He +tried to escape from Cavayso and the man sent a bullet +to stop him. It was the end.”</p> +<p>She shuddered and covered her eyes.</p> +<p>Kit got up and walked away. He looked back from +where he tethered the mules for the night, but she had +not moved. The little crucifix was in her hand, he thought +she was praying. There were no more words to be said, +and he did not go near her again that night. He sent +Clodomiro with her <i>serape</i> and pillow, and when the +fire died down to glowing ash, she arose and went to +the couch prepared. She went without glance to right +or left––the great fear had taken itself away!</p> +<p>Clodomiro rolled himself in a <i>serape</i> not far from +her place of rest, but Kit Rhodes slept with the packs +and with two guns beside him. From the start on the +trail no man had touched his outfit but himself. He +grinned sometimes at thought of the favorable report +the men of Rotil would deliver to their chief,––for the +Americano had taken all personal care of the packs and +chests of Doña Jocasta! He was as an owl and had no +human need of sleep, and let no man help him.</p> +<p>The trail to the cañon of the Rio Seco was a hard +trail, and a long day, and night caught them ere they +reached the rim of the dry wash where, at long intervals, +rain from the hills swept down its age-old channel for +a brief hour.</p> +<p>Doña Jocasta, for the first time, had left the saddle and +crept to the rude couch afforded by the piled-up blankets +in the wagon; Clodomiro drove; and Kit, with the mules, +led the way.</p> +<p>A little water still swished about in their water bottles, +but not enough for the mules. He was more anxious than +he dared betray, for it was twenty miles to the lower +well of La Partida, and if by any stroke of fortune Cap +Pike had failed to make good––Cap was old, and liable +to–––</p> +<p>Then through the dusk of night he heard, quite near +in the trail ahead, a curious thing, the call of a bird––and +not a night bird!</p> +<p>It was a tremulous little call, and sent a thrill of such +wild joy through his heart that he drew back the mule +with a sharp cruel jerk, and held his breath to listen. +Was he going <i>loco</i> from lack of sleep,––lack of water,––and +dreams of–––</p> +<p>It came again, and he answered it as he plunged forward +down a barranca and up the other side where a +girl sat on a roan horse under the stars:––his horse! also +his girl!</p> +<p>If he had entertained any doubts concerning the +last––but he knew now he never had; a rather surprising +fact considering that no word had ever been spoken +of such ownership!––they would have been dispelled by +the way she slipped from the saddle into his arms.</p> +<p>“Oh, and you didn’t forget! you didn’t forget!” she +whimpered with her head hidden against his breast. +“I––I’m mighty glad of that. Neither did I!”</p> +<p>“Why, Lark-child, you’ve been right alongside wherever +I heard that call ever since I rode away,” he said +patting her head and holding her close. He had a horrible +suspicion that she was crying,––girls were mysterious! +“Now, now, now,” he went on with a comforting +pat to each word, “don’t worry about anything. +I’m back safe, though in big need of a drink,––and luck +will come your way, and–––”</p> +<p>She tilted her cantin to him, and began to laugh.</p> +<p>“But it has come my way!” she exulted. “O Kit, +I can’t keep it a minute, Kit––we did find that sheepskin!”</p> +<p>“What? A sheepskin?” He had no recollection of a +lost sheepskin.</p> +<p>“Yes, Cap Pike and I! In the bottom of an old chest +of daddy’s! We’re all but crazy because it came just +when we were planning to give up the ranch if we had +to, and now that you are here––!” her sentence ended +in a happy sigh of utter content.</p> +<p>“Sure, now that I’m here,” he assented amicably, +“we’ll stop all that moving business––<i>pronto</i>. That is +if we live to get to water. What do you know about +any?”</p> +<p>“Two barrels waiting for you, and Cap rustling firewood, +but I heard the wagon, and–––”</p> +<p>“Sure,” he assented again. “Into the saddle with you +and we’ll get there. The folks are all right, but the +cayuses–––”</p> +<p>A light began to blaze on the level above, and the +mules, smelling water, broke into a momentary trot and +were herded ahead of the two who followed more slowly, +and very close together.</p> +<p>Cap Pike left the fire to stand guard over the water +barrels and shoo the mules away.</p> +<p>“Look who’s here?” he called waving his hat in +salute. “The patriots of Sonora have nothing on you +when it comes to making collections on their native heath! +I left you a poor devil with a runt of a burro, a cripple, +and an Indian kid, and you’ve bloomed out into a bloated +aristocrat with a batch of high-class army mules. And +say, you’re just in time, and you don’t know it! We’re +in at last, by Je-rusalem, we’re <i>in</i>!”</p> +<p>Kit grinned at him appreciatively, but was too busy +getting water to ask questions. The wagon was rattling +through the dry river bed and would arrive in a few +minutes, and the first mules had to be got out of the way.</p> +<p>“You don’t get it,” said Billie alongside of him. “He +means war. We’re in!”</p> +<p>“With Mexico? <i>Again?</i>” smiled Kit skeptically.</p> +<p>“No––something real––helping France!”</p> +<p>“No!” he protested with radiant eyes. “Me for it! +Say, children, this is some homecoming!”</p> +<p>The three shook hands, all talking at once, and Kit +and Billie forgot to let go.</p> +<p>“Of course you know Cap swore an alibi for you +against that suspicion Conrad tried to head your way,” +she stated a bit anxiously. “You stayed away so long!”</p> +<p>“Yes, yes, Lark-child,” he said reassuringly, “I know +all that, and a lot more. I’ve brought letters of introduction +for the government to some of Conrad’s useful +pacifist friends along the border. Don’t you fret, Billie +boy; the spoke we put in their wheel will overturn their +applecart! The only thing worrying me just now,––beautifullest!––is +whether you’ll wait for me till I enlist, +get to France, do my stunt to help clean out the brown +rats of the world, and come back home to marry you.”</p> +<p>“Yip-pee!” shrilled Pike who was slicing bacon into +a skillet. “I’m getting a line now on how you made your +other collections!”</p> +<p>Billie laughed and looked up at him a bit shyly.</p> +<p>“I waited for you before without asking, and I reckon +I can do it again! I’m––I’m wonderfully happy––for +I didn’t want you to worry over coming home broke––and–––”</p> +<p>“Whisper, Lark-child. <i>I’m not!</i>”</p> +<p>“What?”</p> +<p>“Whisper, I said,” and he put one hand over her +mouth and led her over to the little gray burro. “Now, +not even to Pike until we get home, Billie,––but I’ve come +out alive with the goods, while every other soul who knew +went ‘over the range’! Buntin’ carries your share. I +knew you were sure to find the sheepskin map sooner or +later,” he lied glibly, “but luck didn’t favor me hanging +around for it. I had to get it while the getting was +good, but we three are partners for keeps, Buntin’ is +yours, and I’ll divide with Pike out of the rest.”</p> +<p>Billie touched the pack, tried to lift it, and stared.</p> +<p>“You’re crazy, Kit Rhodes!”</p> +<p>“Too bad you’ve picked a crazy man to marry!” he +laughed, and took off the pack. “Seventy-five pounds +in that. I’ve over three hundred. Lark-child, if you +remember the worth of gold per ounce, I reckon you’ll see +that there won’t need to be any delay in clearing off the +ranch debts,––not such as you would notice! and maybe +I might qualify as a ranch hand when I come back,––even +if I couldn’t hold the job the first time.”</p> +<p>“O Kit! O Cap! O me!” she whispered chantingly. +“Don’t you dare wake me up, for I’m having the dream +of my life!”</p> +<p>But he caught her, drew her close and kissed her hair +rumpled in the desert wind.</p> +<p>And as the wagon drew into the circle of light, that +was the picture Doña Jocasta saw from the shadows of +the covered wagon:––young love, radiant and unashamed!</p> +<p>She stared at them a moment strangely in a sudden +mist of tears, as Clodomiro jumped down and arranged +for her to alight. Cap Pike looking up, all but dropped +the coffeepot.</p> +<p>“Some little collector––that boy!” he muttered, and +then aloud, “You <i>Kit</i>!”</p> +<p>Kit turned and came forward leading Billie, who suddenly +developed panic at vision of the most beautiful, +tragic face she had ever seen.</p> +<p>“Some collector!” murmured Cap Pike forgetting +culinary operations to stare. “Shades of Sheba’s +queen!”</p> +<p>But Kit, whose days and nights of Mesa Blanca and +Soledad had rather unfitted him for hasty adjustments +to conventions, or standardized suspicion regarding the +predatory male, held the little hand of Billie very tightly, +and did not notice her gasp of amazement. He went forward +to assist Doña Jocasta, whose hesitating half glance +about her only enhanced the wonder of jewel-green eyes +whose beauty had been theme of many a Mexic ballad.</p> +<p>For these were the first Americanos she had ever met, +and it was said in the south that Americanos might be +wild barbaros,––though the señor of the songs–––</p> +<p>The señor of the songs reached his hand and made his +best bow as he noted her sudden shrinking.</p> +<p>“Here, Doña Jocasta, are friends of good heart. We +are now on the edge of the lands of La Partida, and this +little lady is its padrona waiting to give you welcome at +the border. Folks, this is Señora Perez who has escaped +from hell by help of the guns of El Gavilan.”</p> +<p>“Doña Jocasta!” repeated Cap Pike standing in +amazed incredulity with the forgotten skillet at an awkward +angle dripping grease into the camp fire, but his +amazement regarding personality did not at all change +his mental attitude as to the probable social situation. +“Some collector, Brother, but hell in Sonora isn’t the +only hell you can blaze the trail to with the wrong combination!”</p> +<p>Kit turned a silencing frown on the philosopher of +the skillet, but Billie went toward the guest with outstretching +hands.</p> +<p>“Doña Jocasta, oh!” she breathed as if one of her +fairy tales of beauty had come true, and then in Spanish +she added the sweet gracious old Castillian welcome, +“Be at home with us on your own estate, Señora Perez.”</p> +<p>Jocasta laid her hands on the shoulder of the girl, and +looked in the clear gray eyes.</p> +<p>“You are Spanish, Señorita?”</p> +<p>“My grandmother was.”</p> +<p>“Thanks to the Mother of God that you are not a +strange Americana!” sighed Jocasta in sudden relief. +Then she turned to her American courier and guard and +salvation over the desert trails.</p> +<p>“I saw,” she said briefly. “She is as the young sister +of me who––who is gone to God! Make yourself her +guard forever, Don Pajarito. May you sing many songs +together, and have no sorrows.”</p> +<p>After the substantial supper, Kit heard at first hand +all the veiled suspicion against himself as voiced in the +fragment of old newspaper wrapped around Fidelio’s +tobacco, and he and Doña Jocasta spread out the records +written by the padre, and signed by Jocasta and the +others, as witness of how Philip Singleton met death in +the arroya of the cottonwoods.</p> +<p>“It is all here in this paper,” said Jocasta, “and that +is best. I can tell the alcalde, yes, but if an––an accident +had come to me on the trail, the words on the paper +would be the safer thing.”</p> +<p>“But fear on the trail is gone for you now,” said +Kit smiling at her across the camp fire. Neither of them +had said any word of life at Mesa Blanca or Soledad, or +of the work of Tula at the death.</p> +<p>The German had strangled a priest, and escaped, and +in ignorance of trails had ridden into a quicksand, and +that was all the outer world need know of his end!</p> +<p>The fascinated eyes of Billie dwelt on Jocasta with +endless wonder.</p> +<p>“And you came north with the guns and soldiers of +Ramon Rotil,––how wonderful!” she breathed. “And +if the newspapers tell the truth I reckon he needs the +guns all right! Cap dear, where is that one José Ortego +rode in with from the railroad as we were leaving La +Partida?”</p> +<p>“In my coat, Honey. You go get it––you are younger +than this old-timer.”</p> +<p>Jocasta followed Billie with her eyes, though she had +not understood the English words between them. It was +not until the paper was unfolded with an old and very bad +photograph of Ramon Rotil staring from the front page +that she whispered a prayer and reached out her hand. +The headline to the article was only three words in heavy +type across the page: “Trapped at last!”</p> +<p>But the words escaped her, and that picture of him +in the old days with the sombrero of a peon on his +head and his audacious eyes smiling at the world held +her. No picture of him had ever before come her way; +strange that it should be waiting for her there at the +border!</p> +<p>The Indian boy at sight of it, stepped nearer, and +stood a few paces from her, looking down.</p> +<p>“It calls,” he said.</p> +<p>It was the first time he had spoken except to make +reply since entering the American camp. Doña Jocasta +frowned at him and he moved a little apart, leaning,––a +slender dark, semi-nude figure, against the green and +yellow mist of a palo verde tree,––listening with downcast +eyes.</p> +<p>Doña Jocasta looked from the pictured face to the big +black letters above.</p> +<p>“Is it a victorious battle, for him?” she asked and +Kit hesitated to make reply, but Billie, not knowing +reason for silence, blurted out the truth even while her +eyes were occupied by another column.</p> +<p>“Not exactly, señora. But here is something of real +interest to you, something of Soledad––oh, I <i>am</i> +sorry!”</p> +<p>“What does it say,––Soledad?”</p> +<p>“See!––I forgot you don’t know the English!”</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>Troops from the south to rescue Don José Perez from +El Gavilan at Soledad turn guns on that survival of old mission +days, and level it to the ground. Soledad was suspected +as an ammunition magazine for the bandit chief, and it +is feared Señor Perez is held in the mountains for ransom, +as no trace of him has been found.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>“Now you’ve done it,” remarked Kit, and Billie turned +beseeching eyes on the owner of Soledad, and repeated +miserably––“I <i>am</i> so sorry!”</p> +<p>But Doña Jocasta only lifted her head with a certain +disdain, and veiled the emerald eyes slightly.</p> +<p>“So!” she murmured with a shrug of the shoulder. +“It is then a bandit he is called in the words of the +American newspaper?”</p> +<p>Cap Pike not comprehending the rapid musical +Spanish, leaned forward fishing for a coal to light his +pipe, noting her voice and watching her eyes.</p> +<p>“There you have it already!” he muttered to Kit. +“All velvet, and mad as hell!”</p> +<p>Billie, much bewildered, turned to Kit as for help, but +the slender hand of Doña Jocasta reached out pointing +to the headlines.</p> +<p>“And––this?” she said coldly. “It is, you say, not +victorious for Ramon Rotil, that––bandit?”</p> +<p>“It says, señora,” hesitated Billie, “that he is hid +in the hills, and–––”</p> +<p>“That we know,” stated Doña Jocasta, “what other +thing?”</p> +<p>“‘He has a wound and was carried by his men to one +of his retreats, a hidden place,’” read Billie slowly, translating +into Spanish as she went on. “That is all except +that the Federals had to retreat temporarily because a +storm caused trouble and washed out a bridge over which +their ammunition train has to go. The place of the accident +is very bad. Timber and construction engineers +are being rushed to service there, but for a few days +luck is with the Hawk.”</p> +<p>“So!––For a few days!” repeated Doña Jocasta in +the cool sweet voice. “In a few days Ramon Rotil +could cross Mexico. He is El Gavilan!”</p> +<p>Things were coming too fast for Billie. She regarded +the serenity of Doña Jocasta with amazement, and tried to +imagine how she would feel if enemy guns battered down +the old walls of Granados, or––thought of terror––if +Kit should be held in the hills and tortured for ransom!</p> +<p>“Speaking of floods,” remarked Pike in amiable desire +to bridge over an awkward pause, “we’ve used half the +water we brought, and need to make a bright and early +start tomorrow. Rio Seco is no garden spot to get +caught in short of water. Our La Partida mules are +fresh as daisies right off a month of range, but yours +sure look as if they had made the trip.”</p> +<p>“What does he say,––the old señor?” asked Doña +Jocasta.</p> +<p>Billie translated for her, whereupon she arose and +summoned Clodomiro by a gesture.</p> +<p>“My bed,” she said briefly, “over there,” and she +indicated a thicket of greasewood the wagon had passed +on their arrival. “Also this first night of safety you +will be the sentinel to keep guard that Señor Rhodes may +at last have sleep. All the danger trail he had none.”</p> +<p>Cap Pike protested that he do guard duty, but the +smile of Doña Jocasta won her way.</p> +<p>“He is younger and not weary, señor. It is good for +him, and it pleases me,” she said.</p> +<p>“The camp is yours,” he agreed weakly, and against +his better judgment. He did not like Indians who were +like “sulky slim brown dumb snakes”; that was what +he muttered when he looked at Clodomiro. In his irritation +at the Indian’s silence it didn’t even occur to him +that he never had known any snakes but dumb ones.</p> +<p>But if the voice of Clodomiro was uncannily silent, +his eyes spoke for him as they followed Doña Jocasta. +Kit could only think of a lost, homesick dog begging for +the scent of the trail to his own kennel. He said so to +Billie as he made her bed in the camp wagon.</p> +<p>“Cap and I will be right here at the hind wheels,” he +promised. “Yes,––sure, I’ll let the Indian ride herd for +the night. Doña Jocasta is right, it’s his turn, and we +seem to have passed the danger line.”</p> +<p>“Knock wood!” cautioned Billie.</p> +<p>So he rapped his head with his knuckles, and they +laughed together as young happy things do at trifles. +Then he stretched himself for sleep under the stars and +almost within arm’s reach of the girl––the girl who +had ridden to meet him in the night, the wonderful girl +who had promised to wait until he came back from +France ... of course he could get into the army +<i>now</i>! They would need men too badly to turn him +down again. If there was a trifle of discrepancy in sight +of his eyes––which he didn’t at all believe––he had +the dust now, also the nuggets, to buy any and all treatment +to adjust <i>that</i> little matter. He had nearly four +hundred pounds, aside from giving all he dared give at +once as Tula’s gift to those women of the slave raid. +After the war was over he would find ways of again +crossing over to the great treasure chest in the hidden +cañon. The little information Pike had managed to +convey to him about that sheepskin map told him that +the most important indications had been destroyed during +those years it had been buried for safe-keeping. +The only true map in existence was the one in his own +memory,––no use to tell Pike and Billie that! He could +leave them in comfort and content, and when he got +back from France––He wondered how long it would +last––the war. Hadn’t the greatest of Americans tried +three years ago to hammer the fact into the alleged +brain pans of the practical politicians that the sooner +the little old United States made guns, and ships, and +flying machines for <i>herself</i>, the sooner she could help end +that upheaval of hell in Europe?... and they +wouldn’t listen! Listen?––They brought every ounce +of influence they could round up to silence those facts,––the +eternally condemned ostriches sticking their own heads +in the sand to blind the world to the situation! Now they +were in, and he wondered if they had even ten rounds +of ammunition for the cartridge belts of the few trained +soldiers in service? They had not had even three rounds +for the showy grand review attempted in Texas not +long since; also the transportation had been a joke, some +of the National Guards started, but never did arrive––and +France was a longer trail than Texas. God! they +should be ready to fight as the French were ready, in +twelve hours––and it would have to be months––a +long unequal hell for a time over there, but only one +finish, and the brown rats driven back to their den! +After that the most wonderful girl would––would––would–––</p> +<p>Then all the sleep due him on the sleepless trail settled +over him like a net weighted, yet very caressing, and +the world war and the wonderful girl drifted far away!</p> +<p>Beyond, on the other side of the fire, and out of the +circle of light, Clodomiro bore the <i>serape</i> of Doña Jocasta, +and made clear the place for her couch. She had +returned to the light of the fire and was scanning again +the annoying paper of the Americanos. Especially that +remembered face of the audacious eyes. They were +different eyes in these latter days, level and cynical, and +sometimes cruel.</p> +<p>“He calls,” said Clodomiro again beside her. She had +not heard him, and turned in anger that he dare startle +her.</p> +<p>“Who does he call?” she asked irritably tossing aside +the paper.</p> +<p>“All Mexico, I think. All Mexico’s heart,” and he +touched his breast. “Me, I do not sleep. I do your +work and when the end of the trail is yours, I ask, Excellencia, +that you send me back that I find him again,––the +Deliverer!”</p> +<p>“What did Ramon Rotil ever do for you that you fret +like a chained coyote because his enemies are strong?”</p> +<p>“Not anything, Excellencia. Me, he would not know +if I told him my name, but––he is the Deliverer who will +help the clans. Also, <i>she</i> would go,––Tula. <i>Sangre de +Christo!</i> there would be no chain strong enough to hold +her back if his wounds cried for help.”</p> +<p>“If––his wounds cried for help!” repeated Doña +Jocasta mechanically.</p> +<p>“It is true, Excellencia, El Gavilan was giving help +to many people in the lands he crossed. Now the many +will forget, and like a hawk with the weight of an arrow +in his breast he will fly alone to a high nest of the hills. +Death will nest with him there some night or some day, +Excellencia. And the many will forget.”</p> +<p>“Quiet you!” ordered Doña Jocasta angrily.</p> +<p>Abashed, Clodomiro went silent, and with a murmured +apology took himself into the shadows.</p> +<p>She lifted the pictured face barely discernible now in +the diminished light.</p> +<p>“And––the many will forget!” she repeated irritably. +“The boy has the truth of it, but if <i>she</i> had lived, so terribly +wicked,––so lost of God, I wonder if–––”</p> +<p>She lifted her face looking up at the still stars as if for +light on a thought, then flung her hands out despairingly +and turned away to the couch by the green bush of +fragrant yellow bloom.</p> +<p>But not to sleep. Long after the Americanos were +wrapped in slumber a little blaze sent glimmer of light +through the undergrowth, and she saw Clodomiro +stretched beside the fire. He had tossed a bit of greasewood +on the coals that he might again study the face of +El Gavilan.</p> +<p>She had heard him say that if no desert wind lifted +the sand he could follow to that hidden nest of the Hawk. +It was very dark now except for glimmer of stars through +lacy, slow-drifting clouds,––there was no wind. Later +there would be a waning moon! Much of every waking +life is a dream, and her dreams were of the No Man’s +Land of the desert,––the waterless trail from which she +had been rescued for peace!</p> +<p>Twice during the night Kit roused from the depths +sufficiently to realize that sleep is one of the greatest +gifts to man. Once Clodomiro was stretched by the little +fire inspecting the paper he could not read, the second +time he thought Baby Bunting was nosing around trying +to get close to human things. Both times he reached out +his hands to the precious packs beside which he slept +on the trail. All were safe, and he drifted again into a +great ocean of slumber.</p> +<p>He was wakened at dawn by the voice of Cap Pike, +keyed high for an ultra display of profanity.</p> +<p>“By the jumping Je-hosophat, I knew it!” he shrilled. +“That’s your latest collection, begod! I hoped he +wouldn’t, and knew he would! The all-firedest finest +pair of mules on Granados, and every water bag in +the outfit! Can you beat it?”</p> +<p>At the first shout Kit jumped to his feet, his eyes +running rapidly over his pack saddle outfit. All was +safe there, and as Billie lifted her head and looked at him +drowsily over the edge of the wagon bed he realized +that in the vital things of life all was well with his world.</p> +<p>“Let Sheba run your camp, and run it to hell, will +you?” went on Cap Pike accusingly. He was thrashing +around among the growth back of the Soledad outfit +wagon where the mules had been tethered. “Two––four––six, +and Baby Buntin’––yes sir! Lit out by +the dark of the moon, and left neither hide nor hair,––”</p> +<p>“Oh, be reasonable, Cap!” protested Kit. “Buntin’ +isn’t gone––she’s right alongside here, waiting for breakfast.”</p> +<p>“You’re shoutin’ she’s here; so is every dragged-to-death +skate you hit camp with! It’s Billie’s crackerjack +mules, the pick of the ranch, that the bare-legged greasy +heathen hit the trail with! And every water bag!”</p> +<p>“Well,” decided Kit, verifying the water statement by +a glance at the barrels, “no one is to blame. The boy +didn’t want to come this trail. He stuck until we were +over the rough of it, and then he cut loose. A pair of +mules isn’t so bad.”</p> +<p>“Now, of course not!” agreed Cap sarcastically. “A +mere A-number-one pair of mules belonging to another +fellow is only a flea bite to offer a visitor for supper! +Well, all <i>I</i> got to say–––”</p> +<p>“Don’t say it, Cap dear,” suggested Billie. “The Indian +was here because of Doña Jocasta, and <i>she</i> can’t +help it! As she doesn’t understand English, she’ll probably +think you’re murdering some of us over here. Whist +now, and put your muzzle on! We’ll get home without +the two mules. I’ll go and tell her that the hysterics is +your way of offering morning prayers!”</p> +<p>She slipped away, laughing at his protests, but when +a little past the fire place she halted, standing very still, +peering beyond at something on the ground under the +greasewood where the <i>serape</i> of Doña Jocasta had been +spread. No <i>serape</i> or sleeper was there!</p> +<p>Kit noted her startled pause, and in a few strides was +beside her; then, without a word, the two went forward +together and he picked up the package of papers laid +carefully under the greasewood. He knew without opening +them what they were,––the records made for her +safety, and for his, in Soledad, place of tragedies.</p> +<p>“They are the papers I was to put on record for her +in case––Well, I’ll do it, and you’ll take care of the +copies for her, Billie, and––and do your best for the +girl if a chance ever comes. We owe her a lot more than +she will ever guess,––our gold come out of Mexico under +the guard arranged for her, and when I come back–––”</p> +<p>“But Kit,” protested Billie, “to think of her alone with +that thieving Indian! He took flour and bacon too! And +if she hopes to find her husband–––”</p> +<p>“She doesn’t,” concluded Kit thoughtfully turning over +the certificate signed by the padre and him, of the husband’s +safe burial in the sands of Soledad. He glanced +at Billie in doubt. One never knew how safe it was to +tell things,––some things,––to a woman; also Billie was +so enchanted by Jocasta’s sad beauty, and–––</p> +<p>“No, I reckon she doesn’t hope much along that line. +She has probably gone back to the wilderness for another +reason,––one I never suspected until last night. And +Lark-child, we won’t talk about that, not at least till I +return from the ‘back of beyond’ over there,” and he +pointed eastward where shafts of copper light touched +the gray veil of the morning.</p> +<p>After his first explosion of amazement Cap Pike regarded +the elopement, as he called it, very philosophically, +considering his disgust over lost mules and flour and +bacon.</p> +<p>“What did I tell you right here last night?” he demanded +of Kit. “Soft as velvet and hard as hell,––that’s +what I said! She looks to me like a cross between a +saint in a picture frame and a love bird in a tree, and +her eyes! Yet after all no man can reckon on that blood,––she +is only a girl of the hills down there, and the next +we hear of her she’ll likely be leaden’ a little revolution +of her own.”</p> +<p>The young chap made no reply, but busied himself +hastening a scant breakfast in order that the worn mules +be got to water before the worst heat of a dry day. Also +the losses to the culinary outfit did make problems for +the trip.</p> +<p>Cap eyed him askance for a space, and then with a +chuckle wilfully misconstrued his silence and lowered his +tone.</p> +<p>“I don’t blame you for feeling downhearted on your +luck, Bub, for she sure was a looker! But it’s all in a +lifetime, and as you ramble along in years, you’ll find that +most any hombre can steal them, and take them home, but +when it comes to getting a permanent clinch on the female +affections–––”</p> +<p>Billie, who was giving a short ration of water to the +burro, called across to ask what Kit was laughing at in +that hilarious way. She also stated that she did not think +it a morning for hilarity, not at all! That wonderful, +beautiful, mystery woman might be going to her death!</p> +<p>After the packs were all on, Cap Pike swung the mules +of the first wagon into the home trail and passed over +the mesa singing rakishly.</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'><i>Oh-h! Biddy McGee has been after me,<br /> +Since I’ve been in the army!</i></p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>And Billie turned in the saddle to take a last look over +the trail where the woman of the emerald eyes had passed +in the night.</p> +<p>“All my life I have looked, and looked into the beautiful +mirages of the south desert wondering what would +come out of it––and <i>she</i> was the answer,” she said, smiling +at Kit. “Tomorrow I’ll feel as if it was all a dream, +all but the wonderful red gold, and you! Some fine day +we’ll take a little <i>pasear</i> down there, I’ll follow that dream +trail, and–––”</p> +<p>“You will not!” decided the chosen of her heart with +rude certainty. “The dreams of that land of mirages are +likely to breed nightmares. You are on the right side +of the border for women to stay. Our old American +eagle is a pretty safe bird to roost with.”</p> +<p>“Well,” debated the only girl, “if it comes to that, +Mexico also has the eagle, and had it first!”</p> +<p>“Yes, contrary child,” he conceded, herding the mules +into line, “so it has,––but the eagle of Mexico is still +philandering with a helmeted serpent. Wise gamblers +reserve their bets on that game, we can only hope that +the eagle fights its way free!”</p> + +<!-- generated by ppg.rb version: ppg0814 --> +<!-- timestamp: Fri Aug 14 14:06:34 -0600 2009 --> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Treasure Trail, by Marah Ellis Ryan + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TREASURE TRAIL *** + +***** This file should be named 29694-h.htm or 29694-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/6/9/29694/ + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://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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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: The Treasure Trail + A Romance of the Land of Gold and Sunshine + +Author: Marah Ellis Ryan + +Illustrator: Robert Amick + +Release Date: August 15, 2009 [EBook #29694] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TREASURE TRAIL *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +[Illustration: "I'll hit any trail with you--barring Mexican politics." +[Page 19]] + + + + +THE TREASURE TRAIL + +A ROMANCE OF THE LAND OF GOLD AND SUNSHINE + +By + +MARAH ELLIS RYAN + +Illustrated by Robert Amick + +Publishers Chicago + +A. C. McCLURG & CO. + +1918 + + + + +Copyright + +A. C. McCLURG & CO. + +1918 + +Published November, 1918 + +Copyrighted in Great Britain + + + + +To Kalatoka of the brown tent + + + + +CONTENTS + + CHAPTER PAGE + I KIT AND THE GIRL OF THE LARK CALL 1 + II THE RED GOLD LEGEND 15 + III A VERIFIED PROPHECY OF SENORITA BILLIE 54 + IV IN THE ADOBE OF PEDRO VIJIL 66 + V AN "ADIOS"--AND AFTER 73 + VI A DEAD MAN UNDER THE COTTONWOODS 90 + VII IN THE PROVINCE OF ALTAR 107 + VIII THE SLAVE TRAIL 124 + IX A MEETING AT YAQUI WELL 133 + X A MEXICAN EAGLET 144 + XI GLOOM OF BILLIE 161 + XII COVERING THE TRAIL 167 + XIII A WOMAN OF EMERALD EYES 186 + XIV THE HAWK OF THE SIERRAS 217 + XV THE "JUDAS" PRAYER AT MESA BLANCA 230 + XVI THE SECRET OF SOLEDAD CHAPEL 256 + XVII THE STORY OF DONA JOCASTA 288 + XVIII RAMON ROTIL DECIDES 300 + XIX THE RETURN OF TULA 328 + XX EAGLE AND SERPENT 346 + XXI EACH TO HIS OWN 360 + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + PAGE + "I'll hit any trail with you--barring Mexican + politics." _Frontispiece_ + "You poor kid, you have a hard time with the + disreputables you pick up." 76 + "No, Ramon! No!" she cried, and flung herself between + him and his victims. 280 + The Indian girl was steadily gaining on the German. 356 + + + + +THE TREASURE TRAIL + +CHAPTER I + +KIT AND THE GIRL OF THE LARK CALL + + +In the shade of Pedro Vijil's little brown adobe on the Granados +rancho, a horseman squatted to repair a broken cinch with strips of +rawhide, while his horse--a strong dappled roan with a smutty +face--stood near, the rawhide bridle over his head and the quirt +trailing the ground. + +The horseman's frame of mind was evidently not of the sweetest, for to +Vijil he had expressed himself in forcible Mexican--which is supposed +to be Spanish and often isn't--condemning the luck by which the cinch +had gone bad at the wrong time, and as he tinkered he sang softly an +old southern ditty: + + _Oh--oh! I'm a good old rebel, + Now that's just what I am! + For I won't be reconstructed + And I don't care a damn!_ + +He varied this musical gem occasionally by whistling the air as he +punched holes and wove the rawhide thongs in and out through the +spliced leather. + +Once he halted in the midst of a strain and lifted his head, +listening. Something like an echo of his own notes sounded very close, +a mere shadow of a whistle. + +Directly over his head was a window, unglazed and wooden barred. A fat +brown olla, dripping moisture, almost filled the deep window sill, but +the interior was all in shadow. Its one door was closed. The Vijil +family was scattered around in the open, most of them under the +_ramada_, and after a frowning moment of mystification the young +fellow resumed his task, but in silence. + +Then, after a still minute, more than the whisper of a whistle came to +him--the subdued sweet call of a meadow lark. It was so sweet it might +have been mate to any he had heard on the range that morning. + +Only an instant he hesitated, then with equal care he gave the +duplicate call, and held his breath to listen--not a sound came back. + +"We've gone loco, Pardner," he observed to the smutty-faced roan +moving near him. "That jolt from the bay outlaw this morning has +jingled my brain pans--we don't hear birds call us--we only think we +do." + +If he had even looked at Pardner he might have been given a sign, for +the roan had lifted its head and was staring into the shadows back of +the sweating olla. + +"Hi, you caballero!" + +The words were too clear to be mistaken, the "caballero" stared across +to the only people in sight. There was Pedro Vijil sharpening an axe, +while Merced, his wife, turned the creaking grindstone for him. The +young olive branches of the Vijil family were having fun with a horned +toad under the _ramada_ where gourd vines twisted about an ancient +grape, and red peppers hung in a gorgeous splash of color. Between +that and the blue haze of the far mountains there was no sign of +humanity to account for such cheery youthful Americanism as the tone +suggested. + +"Hi, yourself!" he retorted, "whose ghost are you?" + +There was a giggle from the barred window of the adobe. + +"I don't dare say because I am not respectable just now," replied the +voice. "I fell in the ditch and have nothing on but the Sunday shirt +of Pedro. I am the funniest looking thing! wish I dared ride home in +it to shock them all silly." + +"Why not?" he asked, and again the girlish laugh gave him an odd +thrill of comradeship. + +"A good enough reason; they'd take Pat from me, and say he wasn't safe +to ride--but he is! My tumble was my own fault for letting them put on +that fool English saddle. Never again for me!" + +"They are all right for old folks and a pacing pony," he observed, and +again he heard the bubbling laugh. + +"Well, Pat is not a pacing pony, not by a long shot; and I'm not +old folks--yet!" Then after a little silence, "Haven't you any +curiosity?" + +"I reckon there's none allowed me on this count," he replied without +lifting his head, "between the wooden bars and Pedro's shirt you +certainly put the fences up on me." + +"I'm a damsel in distress waiting for a rescuing knight with a white +banner and a milk-white steed--" went on the laughing voice in stilted +declamation. + +"Sorry, friend, but my cayuse is a roan, and I never carried a white +flag yet. You pick the wrong colors." + +Whereupon he began the chanting of a war song, with an eye stealthily +on the barred window. + + _Hurrah! Hurrah! For southern rights, hurrah! + Hurrah for the bonnie blue flag + That bears the single star!_ + +"Oh! _I_ know that!" the voice was now a hail of recognition. "Cap +Pike always sings that when he's a little 'how-came-ye-so'--and +_you're_ a Johnny Reb!" + +"Um! twice removed," assented the man by the wall, "and you are a +raiding Yank who has been landed in one of our fortresses with only +one shirt to her back, and that one borrowed." + +He had a momentary vision of two laughing gray eyes beside the olla, +and the girl behind the bars laughed until Merced let the grindstone +halt while she cast a glance towards the house as if in doubt as to +whether three feet of adobe wall and stout bars could serve instead of +a duena to foolish young Americans who chattered according to their +foolishness. + +There was an interval of silence, and then the girlish voice called +again. + +"Hi, Johnny Reb!" + +"Same to you, Miss Yank." + +"Aren't you the new Americano from California, for the La Partida +rancho?" + +"Even so, O wise one of the borrowed garment." The laugh came to him +again. + +"Why don't you ask how I know?" she demanded. + +"It is borne in upon me that you are a witch of the desert, or the +ghost of a dream, that you see through the adobe wall, and my equally +thick skull. Far be it for me to doubt that the gift of second sight +is yours, O seventh daughter of a seventh daughter!" + +"No such thing! I'm the only one!" came the quick retort, and the +young chap in the shade of the adobe shook with silent mirth. + +"I see you laughing, Mr. Johnny Reb, you think you caught me that +time. But you just halt and listen to me, I've a hunch and I'm going +to prophesy." + +"I knew you had the gift of second sight!" + +"Maybe you won't believe me, but the hunch is that you--won't--hold--the +job on these ranches!" + +"What!" and he turned square around facing the window, then laughed. +"That's the way you mean to get even for the 'seventh daughter' guess +is it? You think I can't handle horses?" + +"Nix," was the inelegant reply, "I know you can, for I saw you handle +that bay outlaw they ran in on you this morning: seven years old and +no wrangler in Pima could ride him. Old Cap Pike said it was a damn +shame to put you up against that sun-fisher as an introduction to +Granados." + +"Oh! Pike did, did he? Nice and sympathetic of Pike. I reckon he's the +old-time ranger I heard about out at the Junction, reading a red-fire +riot to some native sons who were not keen for the cactus trail of the +Villistas. That old captain must be a live wire, but he thinks I can't +stick?" + +"No-o, that wasn't Cap Pike, that was my own hunch. Say, are you +married?" + +"O senorita! this is so sudden!" he spoke in shy reproof, twisting his +neckerchief in mock embarrassment, and again Merced looked toward the +house because of peals of laughter there. + +"You are certainly funny when you do that," she said after her +laughter had quieted down to giggles, "but I wasn't joking, honest +Indian I wasn't! But how did you come to strike Granados?" + +"Me? Well, I ranged over from California to sell a patch of ground I +owned in Yuma. Then I hiked over to Nogales on a little _pasear_ and +offered to pack a gun and wear a uniform for this Mexican squabble, +and the powers that be turned me down because one of my eyes could see +farther than the other--that's no joke--it's a calamity! I spent all +the _dinero_ I had recovering from the shock, and about the time I was +getting my sympathetic friends sobered up, Singleton, of Granados, saw +us trying out some raw cavalry stock, and bid for my valuable services +and I rode over. Any other little detail you'd like to know?" + +"N-no, only needed to know it wasn't Conrad the manager hired you, and +I asked if you were married because married men need the work more +than single strays. Adolf Conrad got rid of two good American men +lately, and fetches over Mexicans from away down Hermosillo way." + +"'Cause why?" asked the man who had ceased pretense of mending the +saddle, and was standing with back against the adobe. + +"'Cause I don't know," came petulant response. "I only had the hunch +when I saw you tame that outlaw in the corral. If he pulls wires to +lose _you_, I'll stop guessing; I'll know!" + +"Very interesting, senorita," agreed the stranger reflectively. "But +if I have a good job, I can't see how it will give me aid or comfort +to know that you've acquired knowledge, and stopped guessing. When's +your time up behind the bars?" + +"Whenever my clothes get dry enough to fool the dear home folks." + +"You must be a joy to the bosom of your family," he observed, "also a +blessing." + +He heard again the girlish laughter and concluded she could not be +over sixteen. There was silence for a space while only the creak of +the grindstone cut the stillness. Whoever she was, she had given him a +brief illuminating vision of the tactics of Conrad, the manager for +the ranches of Granados and La Partida, the latter being the Sonora +end of the old Spanish land grant. Even a girl had noted that the +rough work had been turned over to a new American from the first +circle of the _rodeo_. He stood there staring out across the sage +green to the far purple hills of the Green Springs range. + +"You've fixed that cinch, what you waiting for?" asked the voice at +last, and the young fellow straightened up and lifted the saddle. + +"That's so," he acknowledged. "But as you whistled to me and the call +seemed friendly, it was up to me to halt for orders--from the lady in +distress." + +Again he heard the soft laughter and the voice. + +"Glad you liked the friendly call, Johnny Reb," she confessed. "That's +my call. If ever you hear it where there are no larks, you'll know who +it is." + +"Sure," he agreed, yanking at the cinch, "and I'll come a lopin' with +the bonnie blue flag, to give aid and succor to the enemy." + +"You will not!" she retorted. "You'll just whistle back friendly, and +be chums. I think my clothes are dry now, and you'd better travel. If +you meet anyone looking for a stray maverick, you haven't seen me." + +"Just as you say. _Adios!_" + +After he had mounted and passed along the corral to the road, he +turned in the saddle and looked back. He could see no one in the +window of the bars, but there came to him clear and sweet the field +bugle of the meadow lark. + +He answered it, lifted his sombrero and rode soberly towards the +Granados corrals, three miles across the valley. Queer little trick +she must be. American girls did not usually ride abroad alone along +the border, and certainly did not chum with the Mexicans to the extent +of borrowing shirts. Then as he lifted the bridle and Pardner broke +into a lope, he noted an elderly horseman jogging along across trail +on a little mule. Each eyed the other appraisingly. + +"Hello, Bub!" hailed the older man. "My name's Pike, and you're the +new man from California, hey? Glad to meet you. Hear your name's +Rhodes." + +"I reckon you heard right," agreed the young chap. "K. Rhodes at your +service, sir." + +"Hello! K? K? Does that K stand for Kit?" + +"Center shot for you," assented the other. + +"From Tennessee?" + +"Now you're a sort of family historian, I reckon, Mr. Pike," suggested +K. Rhodes. "What's the excitement?" + +"Why you young plantation stray!" and the older man reached for his +hand and made use of it pump-handle fashion with a sort of sputtering +glee. "Great guns, boy! there was just one K. Rhodes a-top of God's +green earth and we were pardners here in Crook's day. Hurrah for us! +Are you cousin, son, or nephew?" + +"My grandfather was with Crook." + +"Sure! I knew it soon as I laid eyes on you and heard your name; that +was in the corral with the outlaw Conrad had driven in for you to +work, it wa'n't a square deal to a white man. I was cussin' mad." + +"So I heard," and the blue eyes of the other smiled at the memory of +the girl's glib repetition of his discourse. "What's the great idea? +Aside from the fact that he belongs to the white dove, anti-military +bunch of sisters, Singleton seems quite white, a nice chap." + +"Yeh, but he's noways wise at that. He sort of married into the horse +game here, wasn't bred to it. Just knows enough to not try to run it +solo. Now this Dolf Conrad does know horses and the horse market, and +Granados rancho. He's shipped more cavalry stock to France than any +other outfit in this region. Yes, Conrad knows the business end of the +game, but even at that he might not assay as high grade ore. He is +mixed up with them too-proud-to-fight clique organized by old maids of +both sexes, and to show that he is above all prejudice, political or +otherwise, he sure is corraling an extra lot of Mex help this year. +I've _companeros_ I'd go through hell for, but Conrad's breed--well, +enough said, Bub, but they're different!" Mr. Pike bit off a chew of +black plug, and shook his head ruminatively. + +Rhodes looked the old man over as they rode along side by side. He was +lean, wiry and probably sixty-five. His hair, worn long, gave him the +look of the old-time ranger. He carried no _reata_ and did not look +like a ranchman. He had the southern intonation, and his eyes were +wonderfully young for the almost snowy hair. + +"Belong in the valley, Captain?" + +"Belong? Me belong anywhere? Not yet, son," and he smiled at his own +fancy. "Not but what it's a good enough corner when a man reaches the +settlin' down age. I drift back every so often. This ranch was Fred +Bernard's, and him and me flocked together for quite a spell. +Singleton married Bernard's widow--she's dead now these seven years. I +just drift back every so often to keep track of Bernard's kid, +Billie." + +"I see. Glad to have met you, Captain. Hope we can ride together often +enough for me to hear about the old Apache days. This land has fetched +out three generations of us, so it surely has some pull! My father +came at the end of his race, but I've come in time to grow up with the +country." + +Captain Pike looked at him and chuckled. K. Rhodes was about +twenty-three, tall, almost boyish in figure, but his shoulders and +hands suggested strength, and his mouth had little dents of humor at +the corners to mitigate the squareness of jaw and the heavy dark +brows. His black lashes made the deep blue of his eyes look purple. +Young he was, but with a stature and self-reliant manner as witness +of the fact that he was fairly grown up already. + +"Where'd you learn horses, Bub?" + +"Tennessee stock farm, and southern California ranges. Then this neck +of the woods seemed calling me, and I trailed over to look after a bit +of land in Yuma. I wasted some time trying to break into the army, but +they found some eye defect that I don't know anything about--and don't +more than half believe! I had some dandy prospecting plans after that, +but there was no jingling in my pockets--no outfit money, so I hailed +Singleton as an angel monoplaned down with the ducats. Yes sir, I had +all the dream survey made for a try at some gold trails down here, +going to take it up where the rest of the family quit." + +"You mean that, boy?" The old man halted his mule, and spat out the +tobacco, staring at Rhodes in eager anticipation. + +"I sure do. Reckon I've inherited the fever, and can't settle down to +any other thing until I've had one try at it. Did do a little placer +working in the San Jacinto." + +"And you're broke?" Mr. Pike's voice betrayed a keen joy in the +prospect. + +"Flat," stated K. Rhodes, eyeing the old gentleman suspiciously, "my +horse, saddle, field glass, and gun are the only belongings in +sight." + +"Ki-yi!" chirruped his new acquaintance gleefully, "I knew when I got +out of the blankets this morning I was to have good luck of some sort, +had a 'hunch.' You can bet on me, Bub; you've struck the right rail, +and I'm your friend, your desert _companero_!" + +"Yes, you sound real nice and friendly," agreed K. Rhodes. "So glad +I'm flat broke that you're having hysterics over it. Typical southern +hospitality. Hearty welcome to our city, and so forth, and so forth!" + +The old man grinned at him appreciatively. "Lord boy!--I reckon I've +been waiting around for you about ten year, though I didn't know what +your name would be when you come, and it couldn't be a better one! +We'll outfit first for the Three Hills of Gold in the desert, and if +luck is against us there we'll strike down into Sonora to have a try +after the red gold of El Alisal. I've covered some of that ground, but +never had a pardner who would stick. They'd beat it because of either +the Mexicans or the Indians, but _you_--say boy! It's the greatest +game in the world and we'll go to it!" + +His young eyes sparkled in his weathered desert face, and more than +ten years were cast aside in his enthusiasm. K. Rhodes looked at him +askance. + +"If I did not have a key to your sane and calm outlining of prospects +for the future, I might suspect loco weed or some other dope," he +observed. "But the fact is you must have known that my grandfather in +his day went on the trail of the Three Hills of Gold, and left about a +dozen different plans on paper for future trips." + +"Know it? Why boy, I went in with him!" shrilled Captain Pike. "Know +it? Why, we crawled out half starved, and dried out as a couple of +last year's gourds. We dug roots and were chewing our own boot tops +when the Indians found us. Sure, I know it. He went East to raise +money for a bigger outfit, but never got back--died there." + +"Yes, then my father gathered up all the plans and specifications and +came out with a friend about fifteen years ago," added Rhodes. "They +never got anywhere, but he sort of worked the fever off, bought some +land and hit the trail back home. So I've been fairly well fed up on +your sort of dope, Captain, and when I've mended that gone feeling in +my pocketbook I may 'call' you on the gold trail proposition. Even if +you're bluffing there'll be no come back; I can listen to a lot of +'lost mine' vagaries. It sounds like home sweet home to me!" + +"Bluff nothing! we'll start next week." + +"No we won't, I've got a job and made a promise, got to help clean up +the work here for the winter. Promised to take the next load of horses +East." + +"That's a new one," observed his new friend. "Conrad himself has +always gone East with the horses, or sent Brehmen, his secretary. But +never mind, Bub, the eastern trip won't take long. I'll be devilin' +around getting our outfit and when the chance comes--us for the Three +Hills of Gold!" + +"It listens well," agreed K. Rhodes, "cheeriest little _pasear_ I've +struck in the county. We'll have some great old powwows, even if we +don't make a cent, and some day you'll tell me about the mental kinks +in the makeup of our Prussian friend, Conrad. He sounds interesting to +me." + +Captain Pike uttered a profane and lurid word or two concerning Mr. +Conrad, and stated he'd be glad when Billie was of age. Singleton, and +therefore Conrad, would only have the management up to that time. +Billie would know horses if nothing else, and--Then he interrupted +himself and stared back the way he had come. + +"I'm a forgetful old fool!" he stated with conviction. "I meandered +out to take a look around for her, and I didn't like the looks of that +little dab of a saddle Conrad had put on Pat. You didn't see anything +of her, did you?" + +"What does she look like?" + +"A slip of a girl who rides like an Indian, rides a black horse." + +"No, I've seen no one," said the young chap truthfully enough. "But +who did you say your girl was?" + +"You'll find out if you hold your job long enough for her to be of +age," said Pike darkly. "She'll be your boss instead of Conrad. It's +Billie Bernard, the owner of Granados and La Partida." + +"Billie?" + +"Miss Wilfreda, if you like it better." + +But K. Rhodes said he didn't. Billie seemed to fit the sort of girl +who would garb herself in Pedro's shirt and whistle at him through the +bars of the little window. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE RED GOLD LEGEND + + +It took less than a week for Kit Rhodes to conclude that the girl +behind the bars had a true inspiration regarding his own position on +her ranches. There was no open hostility to him, yet it was evident +that difficulties were cleverly put in his way. + +Not by Philip Singleton, the colorless, kindly disposed gentleman of +Pike's description. But by various intangible methods, he was made to +feel an outsider by the manager, Conrad, and his more confidential +Mexican assistants. They were punctiliously polite, too polite for a +horse-ranch outfit. Yet again and again a group of them fell silent +when he joined them, and as his work was with the horse herds of La +Partida, that part of the great grant which spread over the border +into Sonora, he was often camped fifty miles south of the hacienda of +Granados, and saw no more of either the old prospector, or the +tantalizing girl of the voice and the whistle. + +Conrad, however, motored down two or three times concerning horses for +eastern shipment, but Rhodes, the new range capitan, puzzled +considerably over those flying visits, for, after the long drive +through sand and alkali, the attention he gave either herds or outfit +was negligible. In fact he scarcely touched at the camp, yet always +did some trifling official act coming or going to make record that he +had been there. + +The Mexicans called him El Aoura, the buzzard, because no man could +tell when he would swoop over even the farthest range of La Partida to +catch them napping. Yet there was some sort of curious bond between +them for there were times when Conrad came north as from a long +southern trail, yet the Mexicans were as dumb men if it was referred +to. + +He was a compactly built, fair man of less than forty, with thin +reddish brown hair, brows slanting downward from the base of the +nose, and a profile of that curious Teuton type reminiscent of a +supercilious hound if one could imagine such an animal with milk-blue +eyes and a yellow mustache with spiky turned-up ends. + +But Rhodes did not permit any antipathy he might feel towards the man +to interfere with his own duties, and he went stolidly about the range +work as if in utter forgetfulness of the dark prophecy of the girl. + +If he was to lose his new job he did not mean that it should be from +inattention, and nothing was too trifling for his notice. He would do +the work of a range boss twelve hours out of the day, and then put in +extra time on a night ride to the _cantina_ at the south wells of La +Partida. + +But as the work moved north and the consignment of horses for France +made practically complete, old Cap Pike rode down to Granados corrals, +and after contemplation of the various activities of Rhodes, climbed +up on the corral fence beside him, where the latter was checking off +the accepted animals. + +"You're a cheerful idiot for work, Bub," agreed the old man, "but what +the devil do you gain by doing so much of the other fellow's job? +Pancho Martinez wasn't sick as he played off on you; you're green to +these Mexican tricks." + +"Sure, I'm the original Green from Greenburg," assented his new +_companero_. "Pancho was only more than usually drunk last night, +while I was fresh as a daisy and eager to enlarge my geographic +knowledge, also my linguistics, Hi! Pedro! not the sorrel mare! Cut +her out!" + +"Linguistics?" repeated Pike impatiently. + +"Yeh, nice little woman in the cantina at La Partida wells. I am a +willing pupil at Spanish love songs, and we get along fine. I am +already a howling success at _La Paloma_, _La Golondrina_, and a few +other sentimental birds." + +"Oh, you are, are you?" queried Pike. "Well, take a warning. You'll +get a knife in your back from her man one of these fine nights, and +the song will be _Adios, adios amores_ for you!" + +"Nothing doing, Cap! We play _malilla_ for the drinks, and I work it +so that he beats me two out of three. I'm so easy I'm not worth +watching. Women don't fancy fools, so I'm safe." + +"Well, I'll be 'strafed' by the Dutch!" Pike stared at the young +fellow, frowning in perplexity. "You sure have me puzzled, Bub. Are +you a hopeless dunce by training or nature?" + +"Natural product," grinned K. Rhodes cheerfully. "Beauty unadorned. +Say Cap, tell me something. What is the attraction for friend Conrad +south of La Partida? I seem to run against a stone wall when I try to +feel out the natives on that point. Now just what lies south, and +whose territory?" + +The old man looked at him with a new keenness. + +"For your sort of an idiot you've blundered on a big interrogation +point," he observed. "Did you meet him down there?" + +"No, only heard his voice in the night. It's not very easy to mistake +that velvety blood-puddin' voice of his, and a team went down to meet +him. He seems to go down by another route, railroad I reckon, and +comes in by the south ranch. Now just what is south?" + +"The ranches of Soledad grant join La Partida, or aim to. There are no +maps, and no one here knows how far down over the border the Partida +leagues do reach. Soledad was an old mission site, and a fortified +hacienda back in the days of Juarez. Its owner was convicted of +treason during Diaz' reign, executed, and the ranches confiscated. It +is now in the hands of a Federal politician who is safer in +Hermosillo. The revolutionists are thick even among the pacificos up +here, but the Federals have the most ammunition, and the gods of war +are with the guns." + +"Sure; and who is the Federal politician? No, not that colt, +Marcito!" + +"Perez, Don Jose Perez," stated Pike, giving no heed to corral +interpolations. "He claims more leagues than have ever been reckoned +or surveyed, took in several Indian rancherias last year when the +natives were rounded up and shipped to Yucatan." + +"What?" + +"Oh, he is in that slave trade good and plenty! They say he is sore on +the Yaquis because he lost a lot of money on a boat load that +committed suicide as they were sailing from Guaymas." + +"A boat load of suicides! Now a couple of dozen would sound +reasonable, but a boat load----" + +"But it happened to every Indian on the boat, and the boat was full! +No one knows how the poor devils decided it, but it was their only +escape from slavery, and they went over the side like a school of +fish. Men, women, and children from the desert who couldn't swim a +stroke! Talk about nerve--there wasn't one weakling in that whole +outfit, not one! Perez was wild. It lost him sixty dollars a head, +American." + +"And that's the neighbor friend Conrad takes a run down south to see +occasionally?" + +"Who says so, Bub?" + +The two looked at each other, eyes questioning. + +"Look here, son," said Pike, after a little, "I'll hit any trail with +you barring Mexican politics. They all sell each other out as regular +as the seasons swing around, and the man north of the line who gets +tangled is sure to be victim if he stays in long enough." + +"Oh, I don't know! We have a statesman or two who flirted with Sonora +and came out ahead." + +"I said if he stayed in," reminded Pike. "Sure we have crooks galore +who drift across, play a cut-throat game and skip back to cover. The +border is lined with them on both sides. And Conrad----" + +"But Conrad isn't in politics." + +"N-no. There's no evidence that he is, but his Mexican friends are. +There are men on the Granados now who used to be down on Soledad, and +they are the men who make the trips with him to the lower ranch." + +"Tomas Herrara and Chico Domingo?" + +"I reckon you've sized them up, but remember, Kit, I don't cross over +with you for any political game, and I don't know a thing!" + +"All right, Captain, but don't raise too loud a howl if I fancy a +_pasear_ occasionally to improve my Spanish." + +The old man grumbled direful and profane prophecies as to things +likely to happen to students of Spanish love songs in Sonora, and then +sat with his head on one side studying Kit ruminatively as he made his +notes of the selected stock. + +"Ye know Bub, it mightn't be so bad at that, if you called a halt in +time, for one of the lost mine trails calls for Spanish and plenty of +it. I've got a working knowledge, but the farther you travel into +Sonora the less American you will hear, and that lost mine of the old +padres is down there along the ranges of Soledad somewhere." + +"Which one of the fifty-seven varieties have you elected to uncover +first?" queried Rhodes. "The last time you were confidential about +mines I thought the 'Three Hills of Gold' were mentioned by you." + +"Sure it was, but since you are on the Sonora end of the ranch, and +since you are picking up your ears to learn Sonoran trails, it might +be a good time to follow your luck. Say, I'll bet that every herder +who drifts into the _cantina_ at La Partida has heard of the red gold +of El Alisal. The Yaquis used to know where it was before so many of +them were killed off; reckon it's lost good and plenty now, but +nothing is hid forever and it's waiting there for some man with the +luck." + +"We're willing," grinned Kit. "You are a great little old dreamer, +Captain. And there is a fair chance I may range down there. I met a +chap named Whitely from over toward the Painted Hills north of Altar. +Ranch manager, sort of friendly." + +"Sure, Tom Whitely has some stock in a ranch over there--the Mesa +Blanca ranch--it joins Soledad on the west. I've always aimed to range +that way, but the lost mine is closer than the eastern sierras--must +be! The trail of the early padres was farther east, and the mine could +not well be far from the trail, not more than a day's journey by mule +or burro, and that's about twenty miles. You see Bub, it was found by +a padre who wandered off the trail on the way to a little branch +mission, or _visita_, as they call it, and it was where trees grew, +for a big alisal tree--sycamore you know--was near the outcrop of that +red gold. Well, that _visita_ was where the padres only visited the +heathen for baptism and such things; no church was built there! That's +what tangles the trail for anyone trying to find traces after a +hundred years." + +"I reckon it would," agreed Rhodes. "Think what a hundred years of +cactus, sand, and occasional _temblors_ can do to a desert, to say +nothing of the playful zephyrs. Why, Cap, the winds could lift a +good-sized range of hills and fill the baby rivers with it in that +time, for the winds of the desert have a way with them!" + +A boy rode out of the whirls of dust, and climbed up on the corral +fence where Rhodes was finishing tally of the horses selected for +shipment. He was the slender, handsome son of Tomas Herrara of whom +they had been speaking. + +"It is a letter," he said, taking a folded paper from his hat. "The +Senor Conrad is having the telegraph, and the cars are to be ready for +Granados." + +"Right you are, Juanito," agreed Rhodes. "Tell Senor Conrad I will +reach Granados for supper, and that all the stock is in." + +The lad whirled away again, riding joyously north, and Rhodes, after +giving final directions to the vaqueros, turned his roan in the same +direction. + +"Can't ride back with you, Cap, for I'm taking a little _pasear_ +around past Herrara's rancheria. I want to take a look at that bunch +of colts and size up the water there. I've a hunch they had better be +headed up the other valley to the Green Springs tank till rains +come." + +Captain Pike jogged off alone after some audible and highly colored +remarks concerning range bosses who assumed the power of the Almighty +to be everywhere the same day. Yet as he watched the younger man +disappear over the gray-green range he smiled tolerantly for, after +all, that sort of a hustler was the right sort of partner for a +prospecting trip. + +The late afternoon was a golden haze under a metal blue sky; afar to +the east, sharp edges of the mountains cut purple zig-zags into the +salmon pink of the horizon. The rolling waves of the ranges were +bathed in a sea of rest, and now and then a bird on the mesquite along +an arroya, or resting on branch of flaring occotilla would give out +the foreboding call of the long shadows, for the heart of the day had +come and gone, and the cooler air was waking the hidden things from +siesta. + +Kit Rhodes kept the roan at a steady lope along the cattle trail, +drinking in the refreshing sweetness of the lonely ranges after hours +of dust and heat and the trampling horse herds of the corrals. +Occasionally he broke into songs of the ranges, love songs, death +laments, and curious sentimental ditties of love and wars of old +England as still crooned in the cabins of southern mountains. + + _I had not long been married, + A happy, happy bride! + When a handsome trooper captain + Stepped up to our bedside, + "Rise up! rise up! young man," he said, + "And go along with me, + In the low, low lands of Holland + To fight for liberty._" + +The ancient song of the sad bride whose lover proved false in the +"low, low lands of Holland" trailed lugubriously along the arroya in a +totally irrelevant way, for the singer was not at all sad. He was +gaily alert, keen-eyed and watchful, keeping time to the long lope +with that dubious versification. + +"And they're at it again pretty close to the 'low, low lands of +Holland,' Pardner," he confided to the horse. "And when you and I make +a stake you'll go on pasture, I'll hit the breeze for Canada or some +other seaport, and get one whack at the Boche brown rat on my own if +official America is too proud to fight, for + + _Oh-h! oh-h! Oh-h! + In the low, low lands of Holland, + My love was false to me!_" + +Then, after long stretches of sand dunes, mesquite thickets, +occasional wide canons where _zacatan_ meadows rippled like waves of +the sea in the desert air, he swung his horse around a low hill and +came in sight of the little adobe of Herrara, a place of straggly +enclosures of stakes and wattles, with the corral at the back. + +Another rider came over the hill beyond the corral, on a black horse +skimming the earth. Rhodes stared and whistled softly as the black +without swerving planted its feet and slid down the declivity by the +water tank, and then, jumping the fence below, sped to the little +_ramada_ before the adobe where its rider slid to the ground amid a +deal of barking of dogs and scattering of children. + +And although Kit had never seen the rider before, he had no difficulty +as to recognition, and on a sudden impulse he whistled the meadow-lark +call loudly enough to reach her ears. + +She halted at the door, a bundle in her hand, and surveyed the +landscape, but failed to see him because he at that moment was back of +a clump of towering prickly pear. And she passed on into the shadows +of the adobe. + +"That's the disadvantage of being too perfect, Pardner," he confided +to the roan, "she thinks we are a pair of birds." + +He turned at the corner of the corral and rode around it which took +him back of the house and out of range from the door, but the dogs set +up a ki-yi-ing, and a flock of youngsters scuttled to the corner of +the adobe, and stared as children of the far ranges are prone to stare +at the passing of a traveler from the longed-for highways of the +world. + +The barking of the dogs and scampering of the children evidently got +on the nerves of the black horse left standing at the vine-covered +_ramada_, for after a puppy had barked joyously at his heels he leaped +aside, and once turned around kept on going, trotting around the +corral after the roan. + +Rhodes saw it but continued on his way, knowing he could pick it up on +his return, as the Ojo Verde tank was less than a mile away. A boy +under the _ramada_ gave one quick look and then fled, a flash of brown +and a red flapping end of a sash, up the canoncita where the home +spring was shadowed by a large mesquite tree. + +At first Rhodes turned in the saddle with the idea of assisting in the +catching of the black if that was the thing desired, but it evidently +was not. + +"Now what has that _muchacho_ on his mind that he makes that sort of +get-away after nothing and no pursuer in sight? Pardner, I reckon +we'll squander a valuable minute or two and gather in that black." + +He galloped back, caught the wanderer but kept right on without pause +to the trickle of water under the flat wide-spreading tree--it was a +solitaire, being king of its own domain and the only shade, except the +vine-covered _ramada_, for a mile. + +The startled boy made a movement as if to run again as Kit rode up, +then halted, fear and fateful resignation changing the childish face +to sullenness. + +"_Buenas tardes_, Narcisco." + +"_Buenas tardes_, senor," gulped the boy. + +"I turned back to catch the horse of the senorita for you," observed +Rhodes. "It is best you tie him when you lead him back, but first give +him water. Thirst is perhaps the cause he is restless." + +"Yes senor," agreed the lad. "At once I will do that." But he held the +horse and did not move from his tracks, and then Rhodes noticed that +on the flat rock behind him was a grain sack thrown over something, a +brown bottle had rolled a little below it, and the end of a hammer +protruded from under the sacking. + +Ordinarily Rhodes would have given no heed to any simple ranch +utensils gathered under the shadow where work was more endurable, but +the fear in the face of the boy fascinated him. + +"Think I'll give Pardner a drink while I am about it," he decided, and +dismounted carelessly. "Got a cup that I can take my share first?" + +Narcisco had no cup, only shook his head and swallowed as if the +attempt at words was beyond him. + +"Well, there is a bottle if it is clean," and Rhodes strode awkwardly +towards it, but his spur caught in the loose mesh of the sacking, and +in loosening it he twisted it off the rock. + +Narcisco gasped audibly, and Rhodes laughed. He had uncovered a couple +of dozen empty whiskey bottles, and a tin pan with some broken glass. + +"What you trying to start up here in the canon, Buddy?" he asked. +"Playing saloon-keeper with only the gophers for customers?" + +He selected a corked bottle evidently clean, rinsed and drank from +it. + +"Yes--senor--I am here playing--that is all," affirmed Narcisco. "At +the house Tia Mariana puts us out because there is a new _nino_--my +mother and the new one sleep--and there is no place to make a noise." + +"Oh," commented Rhodes, "well, let the black have a little water, and +lead him out of the way of mine. This gully isn't wide enough to turn +around in." + +Obediently the boy led the black to the sunken barrel catching seepage +from the barrel under the drip. Rhodes tossed the sack back to the +flat rock and noted an old canvas water bottle beside the heap, it was +half full of something--not water, for it was uncorked and the mouth +of it a-glitter with shimmering particles like diamond dust, and the +same powder was over a white spot on the rock--the lad evidently was +playing miller and pounding broken glass into a semblance of meal. + +"Funny stunt, that!" he pondered, and, smiling, watched the frightened +boy. "Herrara certainly is doing a bit of collecting _vino_ to have a +stock of bottles that size, and the poor kid's nothing else to play +with." + +He mounted and rode on, leaving Narcisco to lead the black to his +mistress. He could not get out of his mind the fright in the eyes of +the boy. Was Herrara a brute to his family, and had Narcisco taken to +flight to hide his simple playthings under the mistaken idea that the +horseman was his father returned early from the ranges? + +That was the only solution Rhodes could find to the problem, though he +milled it around in his mind quite a bit. Unless the boy was curiously +weak-minded and frightened at the face of a stranger it was the only +explanation he could find, yet the boys of Herrara had always struck +him as rather bright. In fact Conrad had promoted Juanito to the +position of special messenger; he could ride like the wind and never +forget a word. + +The shadows lengthened as he circled the little canon of the Ojo Verde +and noted the water dripping from the full tanks, ideal for the colt +range for three months. He took note that Herrara was not neglecting +anything, despite that collection of bottles. There was no wastage and +the pipes connecting the tanks were in good condition. + +He rode back, care free and content, through the fragrant valley. The +cool air was following the lowering sun, and a thin mauve veil was +drifting along the hills of mystery in the south; he sang as he rode +and then checked the song to listen to the flutelike call of a lark. +His lips curved in a smile as he heard it, and with it came the +thought of the girl and the barred window of Vijil's adobe. + +She permeated the life of Granados just as the soft veil enwrapped the +far hills, and she had seemed almost as far away if not so mysterious. +Not once had he crossed her trail, and he heard she was no longer +permitted to ride south of the line. The vaqueros commented on this +variously according to their own point of view. Some of the Mexicans +resented it, and in one way or another her name was mentioned whenever +problems of the future were discussed. Singleton was regarded as +temporary, and Conrad was a salaried business manager. But on a day +to come, the senorita, as her mother's daughter, would be their +mistress, and the older men with families showed content at the +thought. + +Rhodes never could think of her as the chatelaine of those wide +ranges. She was to him the "meadow-lark child" of jests and laughter, +heard and remembered but not seen. She was the haunting music of youth +meeting him at the gateway of a new land which is yet so old! + +Some such vagrant thought drifted through his mind as the sweet calls +of the drowsy birds cut the warm silence, now from some graceful palo +verde along a barranca and again from the slender pedestal of an +occotilla. + +"Lucky you, for you get an answer!" he thought whimsically. "Amble +along, Pardner, or the night witches get us!" + +And then he circled a little at the north of the canon, and the black +horse, champing and fidgeting, was held there across the trail by its +rider. + +"We are seeing things in broad daylight, Pardner, and there ain't no +such animal," decided Rhodes, but Pardner whinnied, and the girl threw +up her hand. + +"This time I am a highwayman, the far-famed terror of the ranges!" she +called. + +"Sure!" he conceded. "I've been thinking quite a while that your term +must be about up." + +She laughed at that, and came alongside. + +"Didn't you suppose I might have my time shortened for good behavior?" +she asked. "You never even ride our way to see." + +"Me? Why, child, I'm so busy absorbing _kultur_ from your scientific +manager that my spare moments for damsels in distress are none too +plenty. You sent out nary a call, and how expect the lowest of your +serfs to hang around?" + +"Serf? That's good!" she said skeptically. "And say, you must love +Conrad about as much as Cap Pike does." + +"And that?" + +"Is like a rattlesnake." + +"Don't know that rattlesnake would be my first choice of comparison," +remarked Rhodes. "Back in Tennessee we have a variety beside which the +rattlesnake is a gentleman; a rattlesnake does his best to give +warning of intention, but the copperhead never does." + +"Copperhead! that's funny, for you know Conrad's hair is just about +the color of copper, dusty copper, faded copper--copper with tin +filings sifted through." + +"Don't strain yourself," laughed Rhodes. "That beautiful blondness +makes him mighty attractive to our Mexican cousins." + +"They can have my share," decided the girl. "I could worry along +without him quite awhile. He manages to get rid of all the likeable +range men _muy pronto_." + +Rhodes laughed until she stared at him frowningly, and then the +delicious color swept over her face. + +"Oh, _you_!" she said, and Rhodes thought of sweet peas, and pink +roses in old southern gardens as her lips strove to be straight, yet +curved deliciously. No one had mentioned to him how pretty she was; he +had thought of her as a browned tom-boy, but instead she was a +shell-pink bud on a slender stem, and wonder of wonders--she rode a +side-saddle in Arizona! + +She noticed him looking at it. + +"Are you going to laugh at that, too?" she demanded. + +"Why no, it hadn't occurred to me. It sort of looks like home to +me--our southern girls use them." + +She turned to him with a quick birdlike movement, her gray eyes +softened and trusting. + +"It was my mother's saddle, a wedding present from the vaqueros of our +ranches when she married my father. I am only beginning to use it, and +not so sure of myself as with the one I learned on." + +"Oh, I don't know," he observed. "You certainly looked sure when you +jumped that fence at Herrara's." + +She glanced at him quickly, curious, and then smiling. + +"And it was you, not the meadow lark! You are too clever!" + +"And you didn't answer, just turned your back on the lonely ranger," +he stated dolefully, but she laughed. + +"This doesn't look it, waiting to go home with you," she retorted. +"Cap Pike has been telling me about you until I feel as if I had known +you forever. He says you are his family now, so of course that makes +Granados different for you." + +"Why, yes. I've been in sight of Granados as much as twice since I +struck this neck of the woods. Your manager seems to think my valuable +services are indispensable at the southern side of this little +world." + +"So that's the reason? I didn't know," she said slowly. "One would +have to be a seventh son of a seventh son to understand his queer +ways. But you are going along home today, for I am a damsel in +distress and need to be escorted." + +"You don't look distressed, and I've an idea you could run away from +your escort if you took a notion," he returned. "But it is my lucky +day that I had a hunch for this canon trail and the Green Springs, and +I am happy to tag along." + +They had reached Herrara's corral and Rhodes glanced up the little +gulch to the well. The flat rock there was stripped of the odd +collection, and Narcisco stood at the corner of the adobe watching +them somberly. + +"_Buenos tardes!_" called the girl. "Take care of the _nino_ as the +very treasure of your heart!" + +"Sure!" agreed the lad, "_Adios_, senorita." + +"Why the special guard over the treasure?" asked Rhodes as their +horses fell into the long easy lope side by side. "The house seems +full and running over, and _ninitas_ to spare." + +"There are never any to spare," she reminded him, "and this one is +doubly precious for it is named for me--together its saint and its two +grandmothers! Benicia promised me long ago that whether it was a boy +or a girl it would be Billie Bernard Herrara. I was just taking the +extra clothes I had Tia Luz make for him--and he is a little +black-eyed darling! Soon as he is weaned I'm going to adopt him; I +always did want a piccaninny for my own." + +Rhodes guided his horse carefully around a barranca edge, honeycombed +by gophers, and then let his eyes rest again on the lustrous confiding +eyes, and the rose-leaf lips. + +Afterward he told himself that was the moment he began to be bewitched +by Billie Bernard. + +But what he really said was--"Shoo, child, you're only a piccaninny +yourself!" and they both laughed. + +It was quite wonderful how old Captain Pike had managed to serve as a +family foundation for their knowledge of each other. There was not a +doubt or a barrier between them, they were "home folks" riding from +different ways and meeting in the desert, and silently claiming +kindred. + +The shadows grew long and long under the sun of the old Mexic land, +and the high heavens blazed above in yellows and pinks fading into +veiled blues and far misty lavenders in the hollows of the hills. + +The girl drew a great breath of sheer delight as she waved her hands +towards the fire flame in the west where the desert was a trail of +golden glory. + +"Oh, I am glad--glad I got away!" she said in a hushed half-awed +voice. "It never--never could be like this twice and we are seeing it! +Look at the moon!" + +The white circle in the east was showing through a net of softest +purple and the beauty of it caused them to halt. + +"Oh, it makes me want to sing, or to say my prayers, or--to cry!" she +said, and she blinked tears from her eyes and smiled at him. "I reckon +the colors would look the same from the veranda, but all this makes it +seem different," and her gesture took in the wide ranges. + +"Sure it does," he agreed. "One wants to yell, 'Hurrah for God!' when +a combination like this is spread before the poor meek and lowly of +the earth. It is a great stage setting, and makes us humans seem +rather inadequate. Why, we can't even find the right words for it." + +"It makes me feel that I just want to ride on and on, and on through +it, no matter which way I was headed." + +"Well, take it from me, senorita, you are headed the right way," he +observed. "Going north is safe, but the blue ranges of the south are +walls of danger. The old border line is a good landmark to tie to." + +"Um!" she agreed, "but all the fascinating things and the witchy +things, and the mysterious things are down there over the border. I +never get real joy riding north." + +"Perhaps because it is not forbidden, Miss Eve." + +Then they laughed again and lifted the bridles, and the horses broke +into a steady lope, neck and neck, as the afterglow made the earth +radiant and the young faces reflected the glory of it. + +"What was that you said about getting away?" he queried. "Did you +break jail?" + +"Just about. Papa Singleton hid my cross-saddle thinking I would not +go far on this one. They have put a ban on my riding south, but I just +had to see my Billie Bernard Herrara." + +"And you ran away?" + +"N-no. We sneaked away mighty slow and still till we got a mile or two +out, and then we certainly burned the wind. Didn't we, Pat?" + +"Well, as range boss of this end of the ranch I reckon I have to herd +you home, and tell them to put up the fences," said Rhodes. + +"Yes, you will!" she retorted in derision of this highly improbable +suggestion. + +"Surest thing you know! Singleton has good reasons for restricting +your little pleasure rides to Granados. Just suppose El Gavilan, the +Hawk, should cross your trail in Sonora, take a fancy to Pat--for Pat +is some _caballo_!--and gather you in as camp cook?" + +"Camp cook?" + +"Why, yes; you can cook, can't you? All girls should know how to +cook." + +"What if I do? I have cooked on the camp trips with Cap Pike, but that +doesn't say I'll ever cook for that wild rebel, Ramon Rotil. Are you +trying to frighten me off the ranges?" + +"No, only stating the case," replied Rhodes lighting a cigarette and +observing her while appearing not to. "Quite a few of the girls in the +revolution camps are as young as you, and many of them are not doing +camp work by their own choice." + +"But I--" she began indignantly. + +"Oh yes, in time you would be ransomed, and for a few minutes you +might think it romantic--the 'Bandit Bride,' the 'Rebel Queen,' the +'Girl Guerrilla,' and all that sort of dope,--but believe me, child, +by the time the ransom was paid you would be sure that north of the +line was the garden spot of the earth and heaven enough for you, if +you could only see it again!" + +She gave him one sulky resentful look and dug her heel into Pat. He +leaped a length ahead of the roan and started running. + +"You can pretend you are El Gavilan after a lark, and see how near you +will get!" she called derisively and leaned forward urging the black +to his best. + +"You glorified gray-eyed lark!" he cried. "Gather her in, Pardner!" + +But he rode wide to the side instead of at the heels of Pat and thus +they rode neck and neck joyously while he laughed at her intent to +leave him behind. + +The corrals and long hay ricks of Granados were now in sight, backed +by the avenue of palms and streaks of green where the irrigation +ditches led water to the outlying fields and orchards. + +"El Gavilan!" she called laughingly. "Beat him, Pat,--beat him to the +home gate!" + +Then out of a fork of the road to the left, an automobile swept to +them from a little valley, one man was driving like the wind and +another waved and shouted. Rhodes' eyes assured him that the shouting +man was Philip Singleton, and he rode closer to the girl, grasped her +bridle, and slowed down his own horse as well as hers. + +"You'll hate me some more for this," he stated as she tried to jerk +loose and failed, "but that yelping windmill is your fond guardian, +and he probably thinks I am trying to kidnap you." + +She halted at that, laughing and breathless, and waved her hand to the +occupants of the car. + +"I can be good as an angel now that I have had my day!" she said. +"Hello folks! What's the excitement?" + +The slender man whom Rhodes had termed the yelping windmill, removed +his goggles, and glared, hopelessly distressed at the flushed, +half-laughing girl. + +"Billie--Wilfreda!" + +"Now, now, Papa Singleton! Don't swear, and don't ever get frightened +because I am out of sight." Then she cast one withering glance at +Rhodes, adding,--"and if you engage range bosses like this one no one +on Granados will ever get out of sight!" + +"The entire house force has been searching for you over two hours. +Where have you been?" + +"Oh, come along home to supper, and don't fuss," she suggested. "Just +because you hid my other saddle I went on a little _pasear_ of my own, +and I met up with this roan on my way home." + +Rhodes grinned at the way she eliminated the rider of the roan horse, +but the driver of the machine was not deceived by the apparent slight. +He had seen that half defiant smile of comradeship, and his tone was +not nice. + +"It is not good business to waste time and men in this way," he stated +flatly. "It would be better that word is left with the right ones when +you go over the border to amuse yourself in Sonora." + +The smile went out of the eyes of the girl, and she held her head very +erect. + +"You and Mr. Rhodes appear to agree perfectly, Mr. Conrad," she +remarked. "He was trying to show me how little chance I would stand +against El Gavilan or even the Yaqui slave traders if they ranged up +towards the border." + +"Slave traders?" repeated Conrad. "You are making your jokes about +that, of course, but the camp followers of the revolution is a +different thing;--everywhere they are ranging." + +The girl did not answer, and the car sped on to the ranch house while +the two horses cantered along after them, but the joyous freedom of +the ride had vanished, lost back there on the ranges when the other +minds met them in a clash. + +"Say," observed Rhodes, "I said nothing about Yaqui slave traders. +Where did you get that?" + +"I heard Conrad and his man Brehman talking of the profits,--sixty +pesos a head I think it was. I wonder how they knew?" + +Singleton was waiting for them at the entrance to the ranch house, +great adobe with a patio eighty feet square in the center. In the old +old days it had housed all the vaqueros, but now the ranchmen were +divided up on different outlying rancherias and the many rooms of +Granados were mostly empty. Conrad, his secretary Brehman, and their +cook occupied one corner, while Singleton and Billie and Tia Luz with +her brood of helpers occupied the other. + +Singleton was not equal to the large hospitality of the old days when +the owner of a hacienda was a sort of king, dispensing favors and +duties to a small army of retainers. A companionable individual he was +glad to meet and chat or smoke with, but if the property had been his +own he would have sold every acre and spent the proceeds in some city +of the East where a gentleman could get something for his money. + +Conrad had halted a moment after Singleton climbed out of the car. + +"I sent word to Rhodes to come up from La Partida because of the horse +shipment," he said looking across the level where the two riders were +just entering the palm avenue. "Because of that it would seem he is to +be my guest, and I have room." + +"Oh, we all have room, more room than anything else," answered +Singleton drearily, "but it will be as Billie says. I see Pike's nag +here, and she always wants Pike." + +The milky blue eyes of Conrad slanted towards Singleton in discreet +contempt of the man who allowed a wayward girl to decide the guests or +the housing of them. But he turned away. + +"The telephone will reach me if there is anything I can do," he said. + +Singleton did not reply. He knew Conrad absolutely disapproved of the +range boss being accepted as a family guest. Between Billie and +Captain Pike, who was a privileged character, he did not quite see how +he could prevent it in the case of Rhodes, although he was honestly so +glad to see the girl ride home safe that he would have accepted any +guest of the range she suggested. + +"Papa Phil," she said smiling up into his face teasingly, "I'm on my +native heath again, so don't be sulky. And I have a darling new +namesake I've been making clothes for for a month, and I'll tell you +all about him if you'll give Mr. Rhodes and me a good supper. He is +Cap Pike's family, and will have the south corner room; please tell +Tia Luz." + +And when Billie was like that, and called him "Papa Phil," and looked +up at him with limpid childish eyes, there was never much else to be +said. + +"I'll show Rhodes his quarters myself, and you make haste and get your +habit off. Luz has been waiting supper an hour. Today's paper reports +a band of bandits running off stock on the Alton ranch, and it is on +the Arizona side of the border. That should show you it is no time to +ride out of sight of the corrals." + +"Now, now! you know the paper raids aren't real raids. They'll have a +new one to get excited over tomorrow." + +She ran away to be petted and scolded and prayed for by Tia Luz, who +had been her nurse, and was now housekeeper and the privileged one to +whom Billie turned for help and sympathy. + +"You laugh! but the heart was melting in me with the fear," she +grumbled as she fastened the yellow sash over the white lawn into +which Billie had dashed hurriedly. "It is not a joke to be caught in +the raiding of Ramon Rotil, or any of the other accursed! Who could +think it was south you were riding? I was the one to send them north +in the search, every man of them, and Senor Conrad looks knives at me. +That man thinks I am a liar, sure he does! and the saints know I was +honest and knew nothing." + +"Sure you know nothing, never could and never did, you dear old bag of +cotton," and Billie pinched affectionately the fat arm of Tia Luz and +tickled her under her fat chin. "Quick Luzita, and fasten me up. +Supper waits, and men are always raving wolves." + +She caught up a string of amber beads and clasped it about her throat +as she ran across the patio, and Kit Rhodes halted a moment in the +corridor to watch her. + +"White and gold and heavenly lovely," he thought as he rumpled his +crisp brown curls meditatively, all forgetful of the earnest attempts +he had just made to smooth them decorously with the aid of a damp +towel and a pocket comb. "White and gold and a silver spoon, and a +back seat for you, Kittie boy!" + +Captain Pike emerged from a door at the corner of the patio. He also +had damp hair, a shiny face, and a brand-new neckerchief with indigo +circles on a white ground. + +"Look at this, will you?" he piped gleefully. "Billie's the greatest +child ever! Always something stuck under the pillow like you'd hide +candy for a kid, and say,--if any of the outfit would chuck another +hombre in my bunk the little lady would raise hell from here to +Pinecate, and worse than that there ain't any this side of the +European centers of civilization. Come on in, supper's ready." + +Rhodes hesitated at the door of the dining room, suddenly conscious of +a dusty blouse and a much faded shirt. His spurs clink-clanked as he +strode along the tiling of the patio, and in the semi-twilight he felt +at home in the ranch house, but one look at the soft glow of the +shaded lamps, and the foot deep of Mexican needlework on the table +cover, gave him a picture of home such as he had not seen on the +ranges. + +Singleton was in spotless white linen, the ideal southern ranchman's +home garb, while the mistress of all the enticing picture was in white +and gold, and flushing pink as she met the grave appreciative gaze of +Rhodes. + +"H'lo little Santa Claus," chirruped Pike. "It's just the proper caper +to set off my manly beauty, so I'm one ahead of Kit who has no one to +garnish him for the feast--and it sure smells like some feast!" + +"Venison perhaps a trifle overdone, but we hope it won't disappoint +you," remarked Singleton. "Have this seat, Mr. Rhodes. Captain Pike +and Miss Bernard always chum together, and have their own side." + +"Rather," decided Pike, "and that arrangement reaches back beyond the +memory of mere man in this outfit." + +"I should say," agreed the girl. "Why, he used to have to toss me over +his head a certain number of times before I would agree to be strapped +in my high chair." + +"Yep, and I carpentered the first one, and it wasn't so bad at that! +Now child, if you will pass the lemons, and Kit will pass the decanter +of amber, and someone else will rustle some water, I'll manufacture a +tonic to take the dust out of your throats." + +"Everybody works but father," laughed Billie as the Chinaman sliced +and served the venison, and Tia Luz helped supply all plates, and then +took her place quietly at the lower end of the table and poured the +strong fragrant coffee. + +Rhodes spoke to her in Spanish, and her eyes lit up with kindly +appreciation. + +"Ah, very good!" she commented amicably. "You are not then too much +Americano?" + +"Well, yes, I'm about as American as you find them aside from the +Apache and Pima and the rest of the tribes." + +"Maybe so, but not gringo," she persisted. "I am scared of the Apache +the same as of El Gavilan, and today my heart was near to stop going +at all when we lose senorita and that black horse--and I say a prayer +for you to San Antonio when I see you come fetch her home again." + +"Yes, the black horse is valuable," remarked Billie. "Huh! I might as +well be in a convent for all I get to see of the ranges these late +days. If anyone would grubstake me, I'd break loose with Cap here and +go prospecting for adventures into some of the unnamed ranges." + +"You see!" said Tia Luz. "Is it a wonder I am cold with the fear when +she is away from my eyes? I have lived to see the people who go into +the desert for adventure, and whose bare bones are all any man looks +on again! Beside the mountain wells of Carrizal my own cousin's +husband died; he could not climb to the tank in the hill. There they +found him in the moon of Kumaki, which is gray and nothing growing +yet." + +"Yes, many's the salt outfit in the West played out before they +reached Tinajas Altas," said Pike. "I've heard curious tales about +that place, and the Carrizals as well. Billie's father nearly cashed +in down in the Carrizals, and one of his men did." + +"But that is what I am saying. It was Dario Ruiz," stated Tia Luz. +"Yes, senor, that was the time, and it was for the nameless ranges +they went seeking, and for adventures, treasure too; but--his soul to +God! it was death Dario was finding on that trail. Your father never +would speak one word again of the treasure of that old fable, for +Dario found death instead of the red gold, and Dario was _compadre_ to +him." + +"The red gold?" and Cap Pike's eyes were alight with interest. "Why, I +was telling Kit about that today, the red gold of El Alisal." + +"Yes, Senor Capitan, once so rich and so red it was a wonder in Spain +when the padres are sending it there from the mission of Soledad, and +then witches craft, like a cloud, come down and cover that mountain. +So is the vein lost again, and it is nearly one hundred years. So how +could Dario think to find it when the padres, with all their prayer, +never once found the trail?" + +"I never heard it was near a mission," remarked Pike. "Why, if it had +a landmark like that there should be no trouble." + +"Yet it is so, and much trouble, also deaths," stated Tia Luz. "That +is how the saying is that the red gold of El Alisal is gold bewitched, +for of Soledad not one adobe is now above ground unless it be in the +old walls of the hacienda. All is melted into earth again or covered +by the ranch house, and it is said the ranch house is also neglected +now, and many of its old walls are going." + +"There are still enough left to serve as a very fair fortress," +remarked Singleton. "I was down there two years ago when we bought +some herds from Perez, and lost quite a number from lack of water +before the vaqueros got them to La Partida wells. It is a long way +between water holes over in Altar." + +"Sure," agreed Pike, "but if the old mine was near a mission, and the +mission was near the ranch of Soledad it should not be a great stunt +to find it, and there must be water and plenty of it if they do much +in cattle." + +"They don't these days," said Singleton. "Perez sold a lot rather than +risk confiscation, and I heard they did have some raids down there. I +thought I had heard most of the lost mine legends of western Sonora, +but I never heard of that one, and I never heard that Fred Bernard +went looking for it." + +The old woman lifted her brows and shrugged her shoulders with the +suggestion that Sonora might hold many secrets from the amicable +gentleman. But a little later, in an inquiry from Rhodes she +explained. + +"See you, senor, Dario Ruiz was _compadre_ of Senor Alfredo Bernard, +Americanos not understanding all in that word, and the grandfather of +Dario was major-domo of the rancho of Soledad at that time the Apaches +are going down and killing the people there. That is when the mine was +lost. On the skin of a sheep it was told in writing all about it, and +Dario had that skin. Sure he had! It was old and had been buried in +the sand, and holes were eaten in it by wild things, but Don Alfredo +did read it, and I was hearing the reading of it to Dario Ruiz, but of +what use the reading when that mine bewitched itself into hiding?" + +"But the writing? Did that bewitch itself away also?" demanded +Billie. + +"How could I be asking of that when Dario was dead down there in the +desert, and his wife, that was my cousin Anita, was crazy wild against +Don Alfredo the father of you! Ai, that was a bad time, and Don +Alfredo with black silence on him for very sorrow. And never again in +his life did he take the Sonora trail for adventures or old treasure. +And it is best that you keep to a mind like his mind, senorita. He +grew wise, but Dario died for that wisdom, and in Sonora someone +always dies before wisdom is found. First it was two priests went to +death for that gold, and since that old day many have been going. It +is a witchcraft, and no blessing on it!" + +"Well, I reckon I'd be willing to cross my fingers, and take the +trail if I could get started right," decided Rhodes. "It certainly +sounds alluring." + +"I did go in once," confessed Pike, "but we had no luck, struck a +_temporale_ where a Papago had smallpox, and two dry wells where there +should have been water. My working pardner weakened at Paradones and +we made tracks for the good old border. That is no trail for a lone +white man." + +"But the writing, the writing!" persisted Billie. "Tia Luz, you are a +gold mine yourself of stories, but this one you never told, and I am +crazy about it! You never forget anything, and the writing you _could_ +not,--so we know you have the very words of that writing!" + +"Yes, that is true too, for the words were not so many, and where some +words had been the wild things had eaten holes. The words said that +from the mine of El Alisal the mission of Soledad could be seen. And +from the door of Soledad it was one look, one only, to the blue +canoncita where the alisal tree was growing, and water from the gold +of the rose washed the roots of that tree." + +"Good God!" muttered Rhodes staring at the old lady who sat nodding +her head in emphasis until her jet and gold earrings were all +a-twinkle. "It was as easy as _that_,--yet no one found it?" + +"But senor,"--and it was plain to be seen that Dona Luz was enjoying +herself hugely as the center of all attention, "the two padres who +made that writing met their death at that place--and it was said the +_barbaros_ at last killed also the grandfather of Dario, anyway he did +die, and the women were afraid to tell even a new padre of that +buried writing for the cause that it must have been accursed when it +killed all people. That is how it was, and that mission was forsaken +after that time. A Spaniard came up from Sinaloa and hunted gold and +built Soledad hacienda where that mission had been in that old time, +but no one ever found any more of gold than the chickens always are +picking, a little here, a little there with a gravel in the craw. No +senor, only once the red gold--red as flame--went out of Altar on a +mule to the viceroy in Mexico, and the padres never lived to send any +more, or see their brothers again. The men who dug that gold dug also +their grave. Death goes with it." + +"Ugh!" and Billie shivered slightly, and looked at Rhodes, "don't you +go digging it!" + +His eyes met hers across the table. It was only for an instant, and +then Billie got very busy with her coffee which she had forgotten. + +"Oh, I'd travel with a mascot to ward off evil," he said. "Would you +give me a bead from your string?" + +She nodded her head, but did not speak. No one noticed them, for Cap +Pike was telling of the old native superstition that the man who first +found an ore bed found no good luck for himself, though the next man +might make a fortune from it. + +"Why," he continued in evidence, "an Indian who finds even a vein of +special clay for pottery doesn't blaze a trail to it for anyone else. +He uses it if he wants it, because his own special guardian god +uncovered it for him, but if it is meant for any other man, that other +man's god will lead him to it when the time comes. That is how they +reason it out for all the things covered by old Mother Earth. And I +reckon the redder the gold the more secret the old _barbaros_ would be +about it, for gold is their sun-god medicine, or symbol, or +something." + +"With white priests scattered through Sonora for two centuries +one would suppose those old superstitions would be pretty well +eradicated," remarked Singleton. + +Dona Luz glanced at him as at a child who must be let have his own +ideas so long as they were harmless, but Pike laughed. + +"Lord love you, Singleton, nothing eradicates superstition from +the Indian mind, or any other mind! All the creeds of the earth are +built on it, and a lot of the white ones are still alive and going +strong! And as for priests, why man, the Indian priests are bred of +those tribes, and were here before the white men came from Spain. It's +just about like this: If 'Me und Gott' and the U-boats took a notion +to come over and put a ball and chain on all of so-called free +America, there might be some pacifist mongrels pretend to like it, +and just dote on putting gilt on the chain, and kow-towing to that +blood-puddin' gang who are raising hell in Belgium. But would the +thoroughbreds like it? Not on your life! Well, don't you forget +there were a lot of thoroughbreds in the Indian clans even if some +of their slaves did breed mongrels! And don't forget that the ships +from overseas are dumping more scrub stock on the eastern shores right +now than you'll find in any Indian rancheria either here in Pima or +over in Sonora. The American isn't to blame for all the seventeen +dozen creeds they bring over,--whether political or religious, and I +reckon that's about the way the heads of the red clans feel. They are +more polite than we are about it, but don't you think for a moment +that the European invasion ever changed religion for the Indian +thoroughbred. No sir! He is still close to the earth and the +stars, and if he thinks they talk to him--well, they just _talk to +him_, and what they tell him isn't for you or me to hear,--or to sit +in judgment on either, if it comes to that! We are the outsiders." + +"Now, Cap," said Billie, "I'm going to take it away. It's too near +your elbow, and you have had a double dose for every single one you've +been handing out! You can take a rest until the others catch up. Tia +Luz, give him a cup of coffee good and strong to help get his politics +and religion straightened out." + +Pike laughed heartily with the rest of them, and took the coffee. + +"All right, dear little Buttercup. Any medicine you hand out is good +to me. But say, that dope about hidden ores may not be all Indian at +that, for I recollect that mountaineers of Tennessee had the same +hunch about coal veins, and an old lead vein where one family went for +their ammunition. They could use it and they did, but were mighty sure +they'd all be hoodooed if they uncovered it for anyone else, so I +reckon that primitive dope does go pretty far back. I'll bet it was +old when Tubal Cain first began scratching around the outcroppings by +his lonesomes." + +Conrad sauntered along the corridor and seated himself, flicking idly +some leather thongs he had cut out from a green hide with a curved +sheath knife rather fine and foreign looking. Singleton called him to +come in and have coffee, but he would not enter, pleading his +evil-smelling pipe as a reason. + +"It can't beat mine for a downright bachelor equipment," affirmed +Pike, "but I've scandalized this outfit enough, or thereabout, and +that venison has killed all our appetites until breakfast, so why hang +around where ungrateful children swat a man's dearest hobbies?" + +"If you think you'll get rid of me that way you had better think +again," said Billie. "I don't mind your old smokes, or any other of +your evil ways, so long as you and Tia Luz tell us more bewitched mine +stories. Say, Cap, wouldn't it be great if that old sheepskin was +found again, and we'd all outfit for a Sonora _pasear_, and----" + +"We would not!" decided the old man patting her hair. "You, my lady, +will take a _pasear_ to some highbrow finishing school beyond the +ranges, and I'll hit the trail for Yuma in a day or two, but at the +present moment you can wind up the music box and start it warbling. +That supper sure was so perfect nothing but music will do for a +finish!" + +The men drifted out in the corridor and settled into the built-in +seats of the plazita, though Rhodes remained standing in the portal +facing inward to the patio where the girl's shimmering white dress +fluttered in the moonlight beside the shadowy bulk of Tia Luz. + +He lit a cigarette and listened for the music box Pike had suggested, +but instead he heard guitar strings, and the little ripple of +introduction to the old Spanish serenade _Vengo a tu ventana_, "I come +to your window." + +He turned and glanced towards the men who were discussing horse +shipments, and possibilities of the Prussian sea raiders sinking +transports on the way to France, but decided his part of that +discussion could wait until morning. + +Tia Luz had lit the lamp in the _sala_, and the light streamed across +the patio where the night moths fluttered about the white oleanders. +He smiled in comical self-derision as he noticed the moths, but tossed +away the cigarette and followed the light. + +When Captain Pike indulged the following morning in sarcastic comment +over Kit's defection, the latter only laughed at him. + +"Shirk business? Nothing doing. I was strictly on the job listening to +local items on treasure trails instead of powwowing with you all over +the latest news reports from the Balkans. Soon as my pocket has a +jingle again, I am to get to the French front if little old U. S. +won't give me a home uniform, but in the meantime Dona Luz Moreno is +some reporter if she is humored, and I mean to camp alongside every +chance I get. She has the woman at the _cantina_ backed off the map, +and my future Spanish lessons will be under the wing of Dona Luz. Me +for her!" + +"Avaricious young scalawag!" grunted Pike. "You'd study African +whistles and clicks and clacks if it blazed trail to that lost gold +deposit! Say, I sort of held the others out there in front thinking I +would let you get acquainted with little Billie, and you waste the +time chinning about death in the desert, and dry camps to that +black-and-tan talking machine." + +Kit only laughed at him. + +"A record breaker of a moon too!" grumbled the old man. "Lord!--lord! +at your age I'd crawled over hell on a rotten rail to just sit +alongside a girl like Billie--and you pass her up for an old hen with +a mustache, and a gold trail!" + +Kit Rhodes laughed some more as he got into the saddle and headed for +the Granados corral, singing: + + _Oh--I'll cut off my long yellow hair + To dress in men's array, + And go along with you, my dear + Your waiting man to be!_ + +He droned out the doleful and incongruous love ballad of old lands, +and old days, for the absurd reason that the youth of the world in his +own land beat in his blood, and because in the night time one of the +twinkling stars of heaven had dropped down the sky and become a girl +of earth who touched a guitar and taught him the words of a Spanish +serenade,--in case he should find a Mexican sweetheart along the +border! + +For to neither of the young, care-free things, had come a glimmer of +fore-vision of the long tragic days, treasure trails and desert +deaths, primitive devotions and ungodly vengeance, in which the +threads of their own lives would be entangled before those two ever +heard the music of the patio again--together. + + _If in Holland fields I met a maid + All handsome fond and gay, + And I should chance to love her + What would my Mary say?_ + + _What would I say, dear Willie? + That I would love her too, + And I would step to the one side + That she might speak with you!_ + +"Yes, you would--not!" he stated in practical prose to no one in +particular. "Not if you were our girl, would she, Pardner?" + +Pardner tossed up his head in recognition of the comradeship in the +tone, and Kit Rhodes became silent, and rode on to the corrals, +happily smiling at some new thoughts. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +A VERIFIED PROPHECY OF SENORITA BILLIE + + +That smile was yet with him when he saw the herd and the vaqueros +coming up from the water tanks, and noted Conrad and Tomas Herrara +talking together beside Conrad's automobile. + +The beat of the many hoofs prevented the two men from noting one horse +near them, and words of Conrad came to him clearly. + +"It has to be that way. You to go instead of Miguel. You have enough +English, you can do it." + +Tomas Herrara muttered something, evidently reluctance, for again +Conrad's words were heard. + +"But think of the _dinero_, much of money to you! And that fool swine +will not see what is under his nose. You can do it, sure you can! +There is no danger. The blame will be to him if it is found; my agent +will see to that. Not you but the gringo will be the one to answer the +law. You will know nothing." + +He spoke in Spanish rapidly, while both men watched the approaching +vaqueros. + +The smile had gone from Kit's face, and he was puzzled to follow the +words, or even trust his own ears. + +"_Bueno_," said Herrara with a nod of consent. "Since Miguel is +hurt----" + +"Whoa, Pardner," sang out Rhodes, back of them as he slid out of the +saddle. "Good morning, gentlemen. Do you say Miguel is hurt, Herrara? +How comes that?" + +The face of Herrara went a curious gray, and his lips blue and +apparently stiff for he only murmured, "_Buenas dias_, senor," and +gulped and stared at Conrad. But the surprise of Conrad, while +apparent, was easily accounted for, and he was too well poised to be +startled unduly by any emergency. + +"Hah! Is it you, Rhodes, so early? Yes, Miguel is reported hurt over +Poso Verde way. Not serious, but for the fact that he was the one to +go with you on the horse shipment, and now another must go. Perhaps +his brother here." + +"Oh--ah--yes," assented Rhodes thoughtfully. He was not so old as +Conrad, and quite aware he was not so clever, and he didn't know their +game, so he strove as he could to hold the meaning of what he had +heard, and ended rather lamely: "Well, too bad about Miguel, but if +you, Tomas, are going instead, you had better get your war togs ready. +We start tonight from the Junction, and have three hours to get +ready." + +"Three hours only!" again Herrara seemed to weaken. To start in three +hours a journey into the unknown far East of the Americano was beyond +his imaginings. He shrugged his shoulders, tossed his hands outwards +in despair, and turned toward the barns. + +Conrad looked after him in irritation, and then smiled at Rhodes. He +had a rather ingratiating smile, and it the first time he had betrayed +it to Kit. + +"These explosive Latins," he said derisively. "I think I can make him +reasonable, and you go forward with your own preparations." + +He followed Herrara, leaving Kit staring after them wondering. His +glance then rested on the automobile, and he noted that it had not +merely come out of the garage for the usual work of the day. It had +been traveling somewhere, for the wheels were crusted with mud--mud +not there at sunset yesterday. And in that section of Pima there was +no water to make mud nearer than Poso Verde, and it was over there +Miguel Herrara had been hurt! + +He had only three hours, and no time to investigate. There were rumors +of smuggling all along the line over there, and strange conferences +between Mexican statesmen and sellers of Connecticut hardware of an +explosive nature. He recalled having heard that Singleton was from +Connecticut, or was it Massachusetts? Anyway, it was over there at the +eastern edge of the country somewhere, and it was also where plots and +counter plots were pretty thick concerning ammunition; also they were +more complicated on the Mexican border. He wondered if Singleton was +as simple as he looked, for he certainly was paying wages to a mixed +lot. Also it was a cinch to run any desirable contraband from Granados +across to La Partida and from there hellwards. + +He wondered if Singleton knew? But Singleton had a capable business +manager, while he, Rhodes, was only a range boss with the understanding +that he adjust himself to any work a white man might qualify for. + +The mere fact that once he had sat at the family table might not, in +Singleton's eyes, warrant him in criticizing an approved manager, or +directing suspicion towards him. He might speak to Pike, but he +realized that Pike was not taken very seriously; only welcomed because +Billie liked him, and because an American ranch usually had the open +door for the old timers of his caliber. + +Also Pike had told him plainly that he must not be expected to mix up +in the Mexican game for any reason whatsoever. + +"I reckon it's up to us, Pardner," he decided, as he called directions +to the different men loading the wagons with oats and barley for the +stock on the trail. There were three mule teams ready for the railroad +junction where the cars were waiting on the siding, or would be by +night. + +Some of the men were getting the mules straightened out in the harness +while others were roping horses in the corral. It would take most of +the home outfit to lead and drive them to the railroad, which meant +one lonely and brief period of hilarity at the only joint where +"bootleg" whiskey could be secured by the knowing, and a "movie" +theater could add to other simple entertainments for the gentle Juans +of the ranges. Neither Conrad nor Herrara were visible, and he +presumed the latter was making arrangements for the sudden and +unexpected departure from his family, but he knew he had not attempted +to ride home for a farewell greeting, because his horse still stood +near Conrad's automobile where he had first overheard that curious +conversation between the two men. + +After a leisurely breakfast Pike was meandering towards the stock +yard on his mule with the intent to trail along to the Junction with +the boys. Rhodes, catching sight of him, looked hopefully but +unsuccessfully for Singleton. The minutes were slipping by, and no +definite instructions had been given him concerning the three car +loads of horses. Did Conrad mean to leave every detail until the last +moment and make difficulties for the new man? Was that the way he got +rid of the Americans he didn't want? He recalled the prophecy of +Billie that he would not hold his job. Well, he would show her! + +With memories of the white and gold vision of the previous night, and +the guitar in the _sala_, and the moonlight touching all to +enchantment, he had fully decided that he would not only hold the job, +but on some future day he would be business manager. And he'd find +that lost mine or know the reason why, and he would---- + +For after all Kit Rhodes was only twenty-three and all of life ahead +of him for dreams! He was wondering what he could fetch back from the +East that would be acceptable to a witchy elf of a butterfly girl who +already had, to his simple estimate, all the requisites of a princess +royal. + +Juanito came loping past, and Rhodes asked for his father. + +"I am myself looking for him," said the boy. "He has there on his +horse all the things for Tio Miguel, but Miguel not coming, and I +wonder who goes? Maybe it will be me. What you think?" he asked +hopefully. + +Kit did not answer, for Juanito's mention of the articles for Miguel +brought from home by Tomas, and still fastened to the back of the +saddle, drew his attention to the articles tied there--some clothing +badly wrapped, a pair of black shoes tied together with brown strings, +and under them, yet plainly visible, a canvas water bag. + +There was nothing unusual in a water bag or a canteen tied back of any +saddle in the dry lands, it was the sensible thing to do, but Kit +found himself staring at this particular water bag stupidly, +remembering where he had seen it last. It had been only partly full +then, but now it was plump and round as if water-filled; yet one +glance told him it was not wet, and moreover, he had noted the day +before a hole in the side tied up in a hard knot by twine, and there +was the knot! + +Yet it might be a stock of _pinole_, parched corn, as evidence of +Miguel's forethought against privation on the long eastern trail. He +could think of several reasonable things to account for an old water +bag tied to a Mexican's saddle, but reason did not prevent his glance +turning to it again and again. + +The fear in Narcisco's eyes came back to him, and his attempt to cover +his harmless playthings at the coming of the unexpected American. He +wondered---- + +"Say, Bub, I've got ten dollars to invest in some little trinket for +Billie boy, and I want you to put it down in your jeans and invest it +in whatever it will cover," said Captain Pike at his elbow, clinking +the silver coin meditatively. "You'll have time to see plenty +attractive things for the money there in the streets of New York, or +Baltimore, or whichever of the dock towns you'll be heading for." + +Rhodes accepted the coin, absently frowning. + +"That's one of the dark secrets not yet divulged by this curious +management," he growled. "I'm to go, or so I was told, but have been +given no instructions. Where's Singleton?" + +"Just rounded up for breakfast." + +"Is he coming down here to the corrals?" + +"Not that I could notice. Pedro got in from the Junction with last +Sunday's papers, and he and Billie have the picture sheets spread +around, having a weekly feast." + +Kit strode over to his mount, and then halted, glancing towards the +house a half mile away, and then at the telephone poles along the wide +lane. + +"Say, there's a telephone somewhere down here at the works, connecting +with the hacienda, isn't there?" + +"Sure, in that hallway between the two adobes where the bunk house +ends and offices begin." + +Kit started briskly towards the long bunk house, and then turned to +Pike. + +"Do me a favor, Captain. Stay right there till I get back, and don't +let anyone take that Herrara horse away, or his load!" + +"All right, but load!--why, the spotted rat hasn't got a load for a +jack rabbit, load!" and Pike sniffed disdain at the little knobs of +baggage dangling from the rawhide strings. He didn't think the subdued +animal needed watching--still, if Kit said so---- + +At the same time Kit was calling the house, and hearing in reply a +soft whistle of the meadow lark, and then a girl's laugh. + +"Your music is good to listen to, Lark-child," he called back, "and +your ears are perfectly good at telling who's who, but this is a +strictly business day, and it is Mr. Singleton I need to speak with." + +"Still holding your job, or asking for your time?" came the mocking +voice. + +"You bet I'm holding my job, also I am on it, and want the boss." + +"Well, sometimes you know the boys call me the boss. What can we do +for you, Mr. Kit Rhodes?" + +"I'll use all three of my Spanish cuss words in a minute, if you don't +be reasonable," he thundered. + +"Is that a bribe?" came sweetly over the wire, and when he muttered +something impatiently, she laughed and told him it was not fair to use +another language when he had promised Spanish. + +"Listen to me, young lady, if I can't get Singleton on the wire I'll +get on a horse and go up there!" + +"And you listen to me, young man, it wouldn't do you a bit of good, +for just now he is nearly having a fit, and writing telegrams about +something more important than the horse corrals." + +"There is nothing more important this day and date," insisted Kit. + +"Well, if you were as strictly a white dove advocate as Papa Singleton +is, and as neutral, and then saw a full page Sunday supplement of your +pet picture fraulein, working for your pet charity and sifting poison +into hospital bandages and powdered glass in jellies for the soldiers +of the Allies, I reckon you would change your mind." + +"Powdered glass!--in _feed_!" repeated Kit, stunned at the words and +the sudden thought they suggested. "Great God, girl, you don't have +to go to the eastern papers for _that_! You've got the same trick +right here in Granados this minute! Why--damn you!" + +The receiver fell from his hand as a crushing blow was dealt him from +the door at his back. He heard a girl's scream in the distance as he +grappled with Conrad and saved himself a second blow from the +automobile wrench in the manager's hands. It fell to the tiles between +them, and Rhodes kicked it to one side as he struck and struck again +the white, furious face of Conrad. + +"The wrench! Tomas, the wrench! Give it to him! The Americano would +murder me!" shouted Conrad. + +Tomas had other things to think of. He had heard as much as Conrad of +the telephone discourse, and was aware of his pinto standing placidly +not fifty feet away, with all the damning evidence in the case tied to +the back of the saddle! + +Juanito, however, ran like a cat at his master's call and caught up +the wrench, but halted when Pike closed on his shoulder and pressed a +cold little circle of blue steel against his ribs. + +"Not this time, _muchacho_!" he shrilled, "drop it! This is a man's +game, and you're out." + +The men came running, and others attempted to interfere, but the +little old man waved the gun at them and ordered them to keep their +distance. + +"No crowding the mourners!" he admonished them gleefully. "I've a +hunch your man started it, and my man will finish it. I don't know +what it's about, Kit, but give him hell on suspicion! Go to it, +boy,--do it again! Who-ee!--that was a sock-dolager! Keep him off +you, Kit, he's a gouger, and has the weight. Give it to him standing, +and give it to him good! That's it! Ki-yi! Hell's bells and them +a-chiming!" + +For the finale of that whirl of the two striking, staggering, cursing +men, was unexpectedly dramatic. They had surged out into the open, but +Conrad, little by little and step by step, or rather stagger by +stagger, had given way before the mallet-like precision of the younger +man's fists until Kit's final blow seemed actually to lift him off his +feet and land him--standing--against the adobe wall. An instant he +quivered there, and then fell forward, glassy eyed and limp. + +Singleton's car came whirling down the lane. Billie leaped from it +before it stopped, and ran in horror to the prone figure. One of the +older Mexicans tried to ward her off from the sight. + +"No good, senorita, it is the death of him," he said gently. "One +stroke like that on the heart and it is--_adios_!" + +"What in the name of God--" began Singleton, and Kit wiped the blood +from his eyes and faced him, staggering and breathless. + +"Get him water! Get busy!" he ordered. "I don't think he's done for, +not unless he has some mighty weak spot he should have had labelled +before he waded into this." + +The blood was still trickling from the cut in his head made by the +wrench, and he presented an unholy appearance as they stared at him. + +"I'll explain, Singleton, for I reckon you are white. I'll--after +while----" + +"You'll explain nothing to me!" retorted Singleton "If the man dies +you'll explain to a jury and a judge; otherwise you'd better take +yourself out of this country." + +Kit blinked at those who were lifting Conrad and listening to his +heart, which evidently had not stopped permanently. + +"But give me a chance, man!" persisted Rhodes. "I need some mending +done on this head of mine,--then I'll clear it up. Why, the evidence +is right here--powdered glass for the stock at the far end of the +trail--Herrara knows--Conrad's game--and----" + +He did not know why words were difficult and the faces moved in +circles about him. The blood soaking his shirt and blouse, and +dripping off his sleeve was cause enough, but he did not even know +that. + +"Take him away, Captain Pike," said Singleton coldly. "He is not +wanted any longer on either of the ranches. It's the last man I hire, +Conrad can do it in future." + +"Conrad, eh?" grunted Kit weakly, "you're a nice easy mark for the +frankfurter game,--you and your pacifist bunch of near-traitors! Why +man----" + +But Singleton waved him away, and followed the men who were carrying +Conrad to the bunk house. + +"All right, _all_ right! But take care you don't meet with a nastier +accident than that before you are done with this game!" he said +shaking his fist warningly after Singleton, and then he staggered to +his horse where Pike was waiting for him. + +He got in the saddle, and reeled there a moment, conscious of hostile, +watchful eyes,--and one girl's face all alone in the blur. + +"Say," he said, "I heard you scream. You thought it was you I swore +at. You're wrong there. But you are some little prophetess,--_you_ +are! The job's gone, and Herrara's got away with the evidence, and the +jig's up! But it wasn't you I cussed at--not--at--all! Come on, Pike. +This new ventilator in my head is playing hell its own way. Come +on--let's go by-bye!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +IN THE ADOBE OF PEDRO VIJIL + + +"There ain't no such animal," decided Kit Rhodes seated on the edge of +the bed in Pedro Vigil's adobe. His head was bandaged, his face a +trifle pale and the odor of medicaments in the shadowy room of the one +deep-barred window. "No, Captain, no man, free, white and twenty-one +_could_ be such a fool. Can't Singleton see that if Conrad's story was +true he'd have the constable after me for assault with intent to kill? +He's that sort!" + +"Well, Singleton thinks Conrad would be justified in having you +prosecuted, and jailed, and fined, and a few other things, but for the +reputation of Granados they let you down easy. You know it's _the_ +dovery for the Pass-up-the-fists of this section, and what the Arizona +papers would do would be comic if they ever got hold of the fact that +Singleton picked a new bird for the dove cage, and the dratted thing +changed before their eyes to a fractious game rooster swinging a right +like the hind leg of a mule! No, Bub, we're orderly, peaceable folks +around here, so for the sake of our reputation Singleton has prevailed +on his manager to be merciful to you, and Conrad has in true pacifist +spirit let himself be prevailed upon." + +"Which means," grinned Kit, "that I'm to be put off my guard, and done +for nicely and quietly some moonless night when I take the trail! And +he reports me either drunk or temporarily insane, does he? Well, when +the next time comes I'll change that gentleman's mind." + +"Shucks, Bub! Thank a fool's luck that your skull was only scratched, +and don't go planning future wars. I tell you we are peace doves +around here, and you are a stray broncho kicking up an undesirable +dust in our front yard. Here is your coin. Singleton turned it over to +me and I receipted for it, and we have enough between us to hit the +Sonora trail, and there's not a bit of use in your hanging around +here. You have no evidence. You are a stranger who ambled in, heard a +sensational newspaper report of anti-ally criminal intent, and on the +spot accused the highly respectable Granados rancho of indulging in +that same variety of hellishness! Now there is your case in a +nutshell, Bub, and you wouldn't get the authorities to believe you in +a thousand years!" + +"What about you?" + +"Oh, I have just little enough sense to believe your hunch is right, +but that won't get you anywhere. They think I'm loco too! I've an idea +there is a lot more and rottener activities down south of the line +with which our Teutonic peace arbitrator is mixed up. But he's been on +this job five years, all the trails are his, and an outsider can't get +a look-in! Now Miguel Herrara has been doing gun-running across the +border for someone, and Miguel was not only arrested by the customs +officer, but Miguel was killed two nights ago--shot with his own gun +so that it looks like suicide. Suicide nothing! His chief, whoever he +is, was afraid Miguel would blunder or weaken under government +persuasion, so Miguel was let out of the game. That case is closed, +and no evidence against anyone. I reckon everyone knows that the guns +and ammunition sneaked over is headed for Rancho Soledad. The owner of +Soledad, Jose Perez, is the valued friend of our nice little Conrad, +and it happens that Conrad left Granados this morning for that +direction, ostensibly to negotiate with the political powers of Sonora +concerning a military guard for La Partida in case revolutionary +stragglers should ride north for fresh saddle-horses. All appeals to +the neutral chair warmers at Washington wins us no protection from +that source;--they only have guns and men enough to guard some +cherished spots in Texas." + +"Well, if the Teuton is able for a trail I reckon he got nothing worse +in the scrap than I, even if he did look like a job for the +undertaker. That fellow travels on the strength of his belly and not +the strength of his heart." + +"So you say," observed Pike, grinning, "but then again there are +others of us who travel on nerve and gall and never get any further! +Just put this in your pipe, Bub, and don't forget it: Conrad is +_organised_ for whatever deviltry he is up to! There is no 'happen so' +in his schemes. He is a cog in some political wheel, and it's a +fifty-fifty gamble as to whether the wheel is German or Mexican, but +it is no little thing, and is not to be despised." + +"But I can't see how Singleton, if Singleton is square even----" + +"Singleton is a narrow gauge disciple of Universal Peace by +decree--which, translated, means plain damn fool. Lord, boy, if a pack +of prairie wolves had a man surrounded, would he fold his hands with +the hope that his peaceful attitude would appeal to their better +instincts or would he reach for a gun and give them protective pills? +The man of sense never goes without his gun in wolf land, but +Singleton--well, in peace times he could have lived a long lifetime, +and no one ever guessed what a weak sister he was, but he's sure out +of place on the border." + +"I'm tired wearing this halo," observed Rhodes, referring to the white +handkerchief around his head. "Also some of the dope you gave me seems +to be evaporating from my system, and I feel like hitting the Piman +breeze. Can we strike trail tomorrow?" + +"We cannot. Dona Luz has been dosing out the dope for you--Mexican +women are natural doctors with their own sort of herbs--and she says +three days before you go in the sun. I've a notion she sort of let the +Mexicans think that you were likely to cash in, and you bled so like a +stuck pig that it was easy enough to believe the worst." + +"Perhaps that's why Conrad felt safe in leaving me outside of jail. +With Dona Luz as doctor, and a non-professional like you as assistant, +I reckon he thought my chance of surviving that monkey wrench assault +was slim, mighty slim!" + +"Y--yes," agreed Pike, "under ordinary conditions he might have been +justified in such surmise, but that would be figuring on the normal +thickness of the normal civilized skull, but yours--why, Bub, all I'm +puzzling over now is how it happens that the monkey wrench was only +twisted a mite, not broke at all!" + +"You scandalous old varmint!" grinned Kit. "Go on with your weak-minded +amusements, taking advantage of a poor lone cripple,--refused by the +army, and a victim of the latest German atrocity! I suppose--I +suppose,"--he continued darkly, "everyone on and around Granados agrees +that I was the villain in the assault?" + +"I couldn't say as to that," returned Pike judicially. "Dona Luz would +dose you, and plaster you, just the same if you had killed a half +dozen instead of knocking the wind out of one. She's pretty fine and +all woman, but naturally since they regard you as my _companero_ they +are shy about expressing themselves when I'm around--all except +Singleton--and you heard him." + +"Good and plenty," agreed Kit. "Say, I'm going to catch up on sleep +while I've a chance, and you rustle along and get any tag ends of +things needed for the trail. I'm going to strike for Mesa Blanca, as +that will take us up into the country of that Alisal mine. If we go +broke there is Mesa Blanca ranch work to fall back on for a grub +stake, but from what I hear we can dry wash enough to buy corn and +flour, and the hills are full of burro meat. We'll browse around until +we either strike it rich, or get fed up with trying. Anyway, +_Companero_, we will be in a quiet, peaceful pastoral land, close to +nature, and out of reach of Teuton guile and monkey wrenches. _Buenas +noches_, senor. I'm asleep!" + +Pike closed the door, and went from the semi-dark of the adobe out +into the brilliant sunshine where Billie, with a basket, was waiting +under the _ramada_ with Merced, and Merced looked gloomy lest Pedro +should be blamed by Senor Singleton for practically turning his family +out of the adobe that it might be given over to the loco Americano. + +"Tomorrow, can he go?" she asked hopefully. "Me, I have a fear. Not +before is the adobe here watched by hidden men at night, and that is +very bad! Because that he is friend to you I say to everybody that I +think the Americano is dying in our house, but today he talks, also he +is laughing. No more sick?" + +"No more sick, sure not, but it will be one more day. A man does not +bleed like a gored bull and ride the next day under a sky hot enough +to fry eggs. The tea of Dona Luz drove off the fever, and he only +sleeps and talks, and sleeps again, but sick? Not a bit!" + +"Nor--nor sorry, I reckon?" ventured Billie. + +"Why, no child, not that I could notice. That scalawag doesn't seem to +have much conscience concerning his behavior." + +"Or his language!" she added. + +"Sure, that was some invocation he offered up! But just between pals, +Billie, you ought to have been in hearing." + +"I--I don't suppose he even remembers that I was," she remarked, and +then after a silence, "or--or even mentioned--us?" + +"Why, no, Billie. You made the right guess when you sized him up and +thought he couldn't hold the job. He certainly doesn't belong, Billie, +for this ranch is the homing nest of the peace doves, and he's just an +ungainly young game rooster starting out with a dare against the +world, and only himself for a backer. Honest,--if that misguided youth +had been landed in jail, I don't reckon there's anyone in Arizona with +little enough sense to bail him out." + +"Likely not," said Billie. "Well, there's the basket from Tia Luz, and +I might as well go home." + + + + +CHAPTER V + +AN "ADIOS"--AND AFTER + + +Two days later in the blue clear air of the Arizona morning a sage hen +slipped with her young through the coarse grass by the irrigation +ditch, and a flock of quail raised and fluttered before the quick +rhythmic beat of a loping horse along the trail in the mesquite +thicket. + +The slender gallant figure of his rider leaned forward looking, +listening at every turn, and at the forks of the trail where a clump +of squat mesquite and giant sahuarro made a screen, she checked the +horse, and held her breath. + +"Good Pat, good horse!" she whispered. "They've got nothing that can +run away from us. We'll show them!" + +Then a man's quavering old voice came to her through the winding trail +of the arroya. It was lifted tunefully insistent in an old-time song +of the mining camps: + + _Oh, Mexico! we're coming, Mexico! + Our six mule team, + Will soon be seen, + On the trail to Mexico!_ + +"We made it, Pat!" confided the girl grimly. "We made it. Quiet +now--quiet!" + +She peered out through the green mesquite as Captain Pike emerged from +the west arroya on a gray burro, herding two other pack animals ahead +of him into the south trail. + +He rode jauntily, his old sombrero at a rakish angle, his eyes bright +with enthusiasm supplied by that which he designated as a morning +"bracer," and his long gray locks bobbed in the breeze as he swayed in +the saddle and droned his cheerful epic of the trail: + + _A--and when we've been there long enough, + And back we wish to go, + We'll fill our pockets with the shining dust + And then leave Mexico! + Oh--Mexico! + Good-bye my Mexico! + Our six mule team will then be seen + On the trail from Mexico._ + +"Hi there! you Balaam--get into the road and keep a-going, you ornery +little rat-tailed son-of-a-gun! Pick up your feet and travel, or I'll +yank out your back bone and make a quirt out of it! For----" + + _My name was Captain Kidd as I sailed + As I sailed, + My name was Captain Kidd, + As I sailed! + My name was Captain Kidd + And most wickedly I di-i-id + All holy laws forbid + As I sailed!_ + +The confessor of superlative wickedness droned his avowal in +diminishing volume as the burros pattered along the white dust of the +valley road, then the curve to the west hid them, and all was silence +but for the rustle of the wind in the mesquite and the far bay of +Singleton's hounds circling a coyote. + +But Pat pricked up his ears, and lifted his head as if feeling rather +than hearing the growing thud of coming hoofs. The girl waited until +they were within fifty feet, when she pursed up her lips and whistled +the call of the meadow lark. It sounded like a fairy bugle call across +the morning, and the roan was halted quickly at the forks of the +road. + +"Howdy, senorita?" he called softly. "I can't see you, but your song +beats the birds. Got a flag of truce? Willing to parley with the +enemy?" + +Then she emerged, eyeing him sulkily. + +"You were going without seeing me!" she stated with directness, and +without notice of the quizzical smile of comradeship. + +"Certainly was," he agreed. "When I got through the scrap with your +disciple of _kultur_, my mug didn't strike me as the right decoration +for a maiden's bower. I rode out of the scrap with my scratches, +taking joy and comfort in the fact that he had to be carried." + +"There was no reason for your being so--so brutal!" she decided +austerely. + +"Lord love you, child, I didn't need a reason--I only wanted an +excuse. Give me credit! I got away for fear I'd go loco and smash +Singleton for interfering." + +"Papa Phil only did his duty, standing for peace." + +"Huh, let the Neutral League do it! The trouble with Singleton is he +hasn't brains enough to lubricate a balance wheel,--he can't savvy a +situation unless he has it printed in a large-type tract. Conrad was +scared for fear I'd stumbled on a crooked trail of his and would tell +the boss, so he beat me to it with the lurid report that I made an +assault on him! This looks like it--not!" and he showed the slashes in +his sombrero to make room for the blue banda around his head. "Suppose +you tell that Hun of yours to carry a gun like a real hombre instead +of the tools of a second-story man. The neighbors could hear a gun, +and run to my rescue." + +The girl regarded his flippancy with disapproval. + +"He isn't my Hun," she retorted. "I could worry along without him on +our map,--but after all, I don't know a single definite thing against +him. Anyway, it's decided I've got to go away somewhere to school and +be out of the ranch squabbles. Papa Phil thinks I get in bad company +out here." + +"Meaning me?" + +"Well, he _said_ Captain Pike was demoralizing to the youthful mind. +He didn't mention you. And Cap certainly did go the limit yesterday!" + +"How so?" + +"Well, he went to the Junction for his outfit stuff----" + +"Yes, and never showed up at the adobe until the morning star was in +the sky!" + +[Illustration: "You poor kid, you have a hard time with the disreputables +you pick up."] + +"I know," she confessed. "I went with him. We stayed to see a Hart +picture at the theater, and had the time of our young lives. At supper +I announced that I was going to adopt Cap as a grandfather,--and then +of course he had to go and queer me by filling up on some rank whiskey +he had smuggled in with the other food! My stars!--he was put to bed +singing that he'd 'Hang his harp on a willow tree, and be off to the +wars again'--You needn't laugh!" + +But he did laugh, his blue eyes twinkling at her recital. + +"You poor kid! You have a hard time with the disreputables you pick +up. Sure they didn't warn you against speaking to this reprobate?" + +"Sure nothing!" was the boyish reply. "I was to be docked a month's +spending money if I dared go near Pedro Vijil's adobe again while you +were there, which was very foolish of Papa Phil!" she added +judicially. "I reckon he forgot they tried that before." + +"And what happened?" + +"I went down and borrowed double the amount from old Estevan, the +trader at the Junction, and gave him an order against the ranch. Then +Cap and I sneaked out a couple of three-year-olds and raced them down +in the cottonwood flats against some colts brought down by an old +Sierra Blanca Apache. We backed our nags with every peso, and that old +brown murderer won! But Cap and I had a wonderful day while our coin +lasted, and--and you were going away without saying good-bye!" + +Kit Rhodes, who had blankly stated that he owned his horse and saddle +and little beyond, looked at the spoiled plucky heiress of Granados +ranches, and the laughter went out of his eyes. + +She was beyond reason loveable even in her boyish disdain of +restriction, and some day she would come back from the schools a very +finished product, and thank the powers that be for having sent her out +of knowledge of happy-go-lucky chums of the ranges. + +Granados ranches had been originally an old Spanish grant reaching +from a branch of the intermittent Rio Altar north into what is now +Arizona, and originally was about double the size of Rhode Island. It +was roughly divided into the home or hacienda ranch in Arizona, and La +Partida, the cattle range portion, reaching far south into Sonora. +Even the remnant of the grant, if intelligently managed, would earn an +income satisfactory for a most extravagant princess royal such as its +present chatelaine seemed to Rhodes. + +But he had noted dubiously that the management was neither intelligent +nor, he feared, square. The little rancherias scattered over it in the +fertile valleys, were worked on the scratch gravel, ineffective Mexic +method by the Juans and Pedros whose family could always count on +mesquite beans, and _camotes_ if the fields failed. There was seed to +buy each year instead of raising it. There was money invested in +farming machinery, and a bolt taken at will from a thresher to mend a +plow or a buggy as temporarily required. The flocks of sheep on the +Arizona hills were low grade. The cattle and horse outfits were south +in La Partida, and the leakage was beyond reason, even in a danger +zone of the border land. + +All this Kit had milled around and around many times in the brief +while he had ranged La Partida. A new deal was needed and needed +badly, else Wilfreda Bernard would have debts instead of revenue if +Singleton let things drift much longer. Her impish jest that she was +a damsel in distress in need of a valiant knight was nearer to truth +than she suspected. He had an idiotic hungry desire to be that knight, +but his equipment of one horse, one saddle, and one sore head appeared +inadequate for the office. + +Thus Kit Rhodes sat his horse and looked at her, and saw things other +than the red lips of the girl, and the chiding gray eyes, and the +frank regret at his going. + +It was more profitable not to see that regret, or let it thrill a man +in that sweet warm way, especially not if the man chanced to be a +drifting ranger. She was only a gallant little girl with a genius for +friendships, and her loyalty to Pike extended to Pike's chum--that was +what Rhodes told himself! + +"Yes," he agreed, "I was going without any tooting of horns. No use in +Cap Pike and me hanging around, and getting you in bad with your +outfit." + +"As if I care!" she retorted. + +"You might some day," he said quietly. "School may make a lot of +difference; that, and changed surroundings for a year or two. But some +day you will be your own manager, and if I'm still on the footstool +and can be of service--just whistle, senorita." + +"Sure!" she agreed cheerfully. "I'll whistle the lark call, and you'll +know I need you, so that's settled, and we'll always be--be friends, +Trail-hunter." + +"We'll always be friends, Lark-child." + +"I wanted Cap Pike to let me in on this prospecting trip, wanted to +put in money," she said rather hesitant, "and he turned me down cold, +except for a measly ten dollars, 'smoke money' he called it. I reckon +he only took that to get rid of me, which I don't call friendly, do +you? And if things should go crooked with him, and he--well--sort of +needs help to get out, you'll let me know, won't you?" + +"Yes, if it seems best," he agreed, "but you won't be here; you'll be +shipped to a school, _pronto_!" + +"I won't be so far off the map that a letter can't reach me. Cap Pike +won't ever write, but I thought maybe you----" + +"Sure," agreed Rhodes easily. "We'll send out a long yell for help +whenever we get stuck." + +She eyed him darkly and without faith. + +"Wish I knew how to make that certain," she confessed. "You're only +dodging me with any kind of a promise to keep me quiet, just as Cap +did. I know! I'm jealous, too, because you're taking a trail I've +always wanted to take with Cap, and they won't let me because I'm a +girl." + +"Cheer up! When you are boss of the range you can outfit any little +_pasear_ you want to take, but you and I won't be in the same class +then, Lark-child." + +"Are you really going it blind, trailing with Cap into the Painted +Hills after that fascinating gold legend?" she demanded. "Or have you +some inside trail blazed for yourself? Daddy Pike is the best ever, +but he always goes broke, and if he isn't broke, he has a jug at his +saddle horn, so----" + +"Oh it's only a little jug this time, and he's had a fare-you-well +drink out of it with everyone in sight, so there's only one hilarious +evening left in the jug now. Just enough for a gladsome memory of +civilization." + +"Are you in deep on this prospect plan?" she persisted. + +"Well, not that you could notice. That is, I've got a three months' +job offered me down at Whitely's; that will serve the captain as +headquarters to range from until we add to our stake. Whitely is +rounding up stock for the Allies down Mesa Blanca way, and Pike will +feel at home there. Don't you worry, I'll keep an eye on Pike. He is +hilariously happy to get into that region with a partner." + +"I don't like it," she grumbled at him with sulky gray eyes. "Pedro +Vijil just came back from the south, and brought his sister's family +from San Rafael. They're refugees from the Federals because their men +joined Ramon Rotil, the rebel leader, and Merced is crying herself +crazy over the tales of war they tell. One of their girls was stolen, +and the mother and Tia Luz are both crying over that. So Papa Phil +says he's going to send me away where I won't hear such horrors. I +wish I was a man, and I'd join the army and get a chance to go over +and fight." + +"Huh!" grunted Rhodes skeptically, "some more of us had hopes! Our +army officers are both praying and cursing to get a chance to do the +same thing, but they are not getting it! So you and I, little girl, +will wait till some one pitches a bomb into that dovery on the +Potomac. Then we'll join the volunteers and swarm over after our +people." + +"Oh, yes, _you_ can! Men can do anything they like. I told you I was +jealous." + +"Never mind, Lark-child," he returned soothingly. "If I get over with +a gun, you can come along and toot a horn. There now, that's a +bargain, and you can practice tooting the lark's call until the time +comes." + +"I reckon I'll have plenty of time to toot myself black in the face +before you show up again at Granados," she prophesied ruefully, and he +laughed. + +"Whistle an' I'll come to you, Lassie," he said with sudden +recklessness, "and that's for _adios_, Billie." + +He held out his hand. + +"That's enough, Rhodes," said a voice back of them, and Singleton +walked forward. "When you got your time, you were supposed to leave +Granados. Is this what you've been hanging around for during the past +week?" + +Rhodes flamed red to his hair as he stared down at the elder man. + +"I reckon I'll not answer that now, Mr. Singleton," he said quietly. +"You may live to see you made a mistake. I hope you do, but you're +traveling with a rotten bunch, and they are likely to use a knife or a +rope on you any time you've played the goat long enough for them to +get their innings. I'm going without any grudge, but if I was an +insurance agent, trying to save money for my company, I'd sure pass +you by as an unsafe bet! Keep on this side of the line, Singleton, +while the revolution is whirling, and whatever you forget, don't +forget I said it! _Adios_, senorita, and--good luck!" + +"Good luck, Kit," she half whispered, "and _adios_!" + +She watched him as he rode away, watched him as he halted at the turn +of the trail and waved his hand, and Singleton was quietly observing +her the while. She frowned as she turned and caught him at it. + +"You thought he waited here, or planned to--to meet me," she flared. +"He was too square to tell you the truth, but it was I rode out here +to say good-bye, rode out and held him up! But I did not reckon anyone +would try to insult him for it!" + +Her stepfather regarded her grimly. She was angry, and very near to +tears. + +"Time you had your breakfast," he observed, "and all signs indicate I +should have sent you East last year, and kept you out of the +promiscuous mixups along the border. It's the dumping ground for all +sorts of stray adventurers, and no place for a girl to ride alone." + +"He seemed to think I am as able to look after myself as you," she +retorted. "You aren't fair to him because you take the word of Conrad, +but Conrad lies, and I'm glad he got thrashed good and plenty! Now +I've got that off my mind, I'll go eat a cheerful breakfast." + +Singleton walked silent beside her back to where his horse was grazing +by the roadside. + +"Huh!" grunted the girl with frank scorn. "So you got out of the +saddle to spy? Haven't you some black-and-tan around the ranch to do +your dirty work?" + +"It's just as well to be civil till you know what you are talking +about," he reminded her with a sort of trained patience. "I came out +without my breakfast just to keep the ranchmen from thinking what Tia +Luz thinks. She told me I'd find that fellow waiting for you. I didn't +believe it, but I see she is not so far wrong." + +He spoke without heat or feeling, and his tone was that of quiet +discussion with a man or boy, not at all that of a guardian to a girl. +His charge was evidently akin to the horse ranch of Granados as +described by the old ranger: Singleton had acquired them, but never +understood them. + +"Look here," said his protegee with boyish roughness, "that Dutchman +sees everything crooked, especially if there's an American in range, +and he prejudices you. Why don't you wake up long enough to notice +that he's framing some excuse to run off every decent chap who comes +on the place? I knew Rhodes was too white to be let stay. I saw that +as soon as he landed, and I told him so! What I can't understand is +that you won't see it." + +"A manager has to have a free hand, Billie, or else be let go," +explained Singleton. "Conrad knows horses, he knows the market, and is +at home with the Mexicans. Also he costs less than we used to pay, and +that is an item in a bad year." + +"I'll bet we lose enough cattle to his friends to make up the +difference," she persisted. "Rhodes was right when he called them a +rotten bunch." + +"Let us hope that when you return from school you will have lost the +major portion of your unsavory vocabulary," he suggested. "That will +be worth a herd of cattle." + +"It would be worth another herd to see you wake up and show you had +one good fight in you!" she retorted. "Conrad has all of the ranch +outfit locoed but me; that's why he passes on this school notion to +you. He wants me out of sight." + +"I should have been more decided, and insisted that you go last year. +Heaven knows you need it badly enough," sighed Singleton, ignoring her +disparaging comment on his own shortcomings. And then as they rode +under the swaying fronds of the palm drive leading to the ranch house +he added, "Those words of your bronco busting friend concerning the +life insurance risk sounded like a threat. I wonder what he meant by +it?" + +The telephone bell on the Granados Junction line was ringing when they +entered the patio. Singleton glanced at the clock. + +"A night letter probably," he remarked. "Go get your coffee, child, +it's a late hour for breakfast." + +Billie obeyed, sulkily seating herself opposite Tia Luz--who was bolt +upright behind the coffee urn, with a mien expressing dignified +disapproval. She inhaled a deep breath for forceful speech, but Billie +was ahead of her. + +"So it was you! You were the spy, and sent him after me!" + +"_Madre de Dios!_ and why not?" demanded the competent Luz. "You +stealing your own horse at the dawn to go with the old Captain Pike. I +ask of you what kind of a girl is that? Also Mercedes was here last +night tearing her hair because of the girls, her sister's daughters, +stolen away over there in Sonora. Well! is that not enough? That Senor +Kit is also too handsome. I was a fool to send the medicine with you +to Pedro's house. He looked a fine caballero but even a fine caballero +will take a girl when she follows after. _I_ know! And once in Sonora +all trails of a girl are lost. I know that too!" + +"You are all crazy, and I never saw him at Pedro's house, never!" said +the girl reaching for her coffee, and then suddenly she began to +laugh. "Did you think, did you make Papa Philip think, that I was +eloping like this?" and she glanced down at her denim riding dress. + +"And why not? Did I myself not steal out in a shift and petticoat the +first time I tried to run away with my Andreas? And beyond that not a +thing under God had I on but my coral beads, and the red satin +slippers of my sister Dorotea! She pulled my hair wickedly for those +slippers, and I got a _reata_ on my back from my grandmother for that +running away. I was thirteen years old then! But when I was nearly +sixteen we did get away, Andreas and I, and after that it was as well +for the grandmother to pay a priest for us, and let us alone. Ai-ji! +senorita, I am not forgetting what I know! And while I am here in +Granados there must be nothing less than a grand marriage, and may the +saints send the right man, for a wrong one makes hell in any house!" + +Billie forgot her sulkiness in her joy at the elopements of Tia Luz. +No wonder she distrusted an American girl who was allowed to ride +alone! + +But in the midst of her laughter she was reminded that Singleton was +still detained at the telephone in the adjoining room, and that his +rather high-pitched tones betrayed irritation. + +"Well, why can't you give the telegram to me? Addressed to Conrad? Of +course if it's a personal message I don't want it, but you say it is a +ranch matter--and important. Horses? What about them?" + +Billie, listening, sped from the table to his side, and putting her +hand over the telephone, whispered: + +"If Brehman, the secretary, was here, they'd give it to him. They +always do." + +Singleton nodded to her, and grew decided. + +"See here, Webster, one of our men was hurt, and Brehman took his +place and went East with that horse shipment. Mr. Conrad had to go +down in Sonora on business, and I am the only one here to take his +place. Just give me the message as you would give it to the secretary. +But you'd better type a copy and send by mail that I can put it on +file. All right? Yes, go ahead." + +Billie had quickly secured paper and pencil, but instead of taking +them, Singleton motioned for her to write the message. + + Adolf Conrad, Granados Ranch, Granados Junction, Arizona. Regret + to report September shipment horses developed ailment aboard + vessel, fifty per cent dead, balance probably of no military use, + + OGDEN, BURNS & CO. + +Word by word Singleton took the message and word by word Billie wrote +it down, while they stared at each other. + +"Developed ailment aboard vessel!" repeated Singleton. "Then there was +something wrong on shipboard, for there certainly is not here. We have +no sick horses on the ranch, never do have!" + +"But these people?" and Billie pointed to the signature. + +"Oh, they are the men who buy stock for the Allies, agents for the +French. They paid for the horses on delivery. They are safe, +substantial people. I can't understand----" + +But Billie caught his arm with a gasp of horror and enlightenment. + +"Papa Phil! Think--_think_ what Kit Rhodes said! _'Ground glass in the +feed at the other end of the road! Conrad's game--Herrara knows!'_ +Papa Phil,--Miguel Herrara was killed--killed! And Conrad tried to +kill Kit! Oh he did, he did! None of the Mexicans thought he would get +well, but Tia Luz cured him. And Cap Pike never went out of sight of +that adobe until Conrad had left the ranch, and I know Kit was right. +I know it, I know it! Oh, my horses, my beautiful horses!" + +"There, there! Why, child you're hysterical over this, which is--is +too preposterous for belief!" + +"Nothing is too preposterous for belief. You know that. Everybody +knows it in these days! Is Belgium too preposterous? Is that record of +poison and powdered glass in hospital supplies too preposterous? In +_hospital_ supplies! If they do that to wounded men, why not to +cavalry horses? Why Papa Phil----" + +"Hush--hush--hush!" he said pacing the floor, clasping his head in +both hands. "It is too terrible! What can we do? What? Who dare we +trust to even help investigate?" + +"Well, you might wire those agents for particulars, this is rather +skimpy," suggested Billie. "Come and get some breakfast and think it +over." + +"I might wire the office of the Peace Society in New York to----" + +"Don't you do it!" protested Billie. "They may have furnished the +poison for all _you_ know! Cap Pike says they are a lot of traitors, +and Cap is wise in lots of things. You telegraph, and you tell them +that if the sickness is proven to have started in Granados, that we +will pay for every dead horse, tell them we have no sick horses here, +and ask them to answer, _pronto!_" + +"That seems rather reckless, child, to pay for all----" + +"I _am_ reckless! I am crazy mad over those horses, and over Conrad, +and over Kit whom he tried to kill!" + +"Tut--tut! The language and behavior of Rhodes was too wicked for +anyone to believe him innocent. He was a beastly looking object, and I +still believe him entirely in the wrong. This loss of the horses is +deplorable, but you will find that no one at Granados is to blame." + +"Maybe so, but you just send that telegram and see what we see!" + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +A DEAD MAN UNDER THE COTTONWOODS + + +Billie was never out of hearing of the telephone all day, and at two +o'clock the reply came. + + PHILIP SINGLETON, Rancho Granados, Arizona. + + Kindly wire in detail the source of your information. No message + went to Granados from this office. No publicity has been given to + the dead horse situation. Your inquiry very important to the + Department of Justice. + + OGDEN, BURNS & CO. + +"Very strange, very!" murmured Singleton. "No matter how hard I think, +or from what angle, I can't account for it. Billie, this is too +intricate for me. The best thing I can do is to go over to Nogales and +talk to an attorney." + +"Go ahead and talk," agreed Billie, "but I'd answer that telegram +first. This is no township matter, Papa Phil, can't you see that?" + +"Certainly, certainly, but simply because of that fact I feel I should +have local advice. I have a legal friend in Nogales. If I could get +him on the wire----" + +An hour later when Billie returned from a ride, she realized Singleton +had gotten his friend on the wire, for she heard him talking. + +"Yes, this is Granados. Is that you, James? Yes, I asked them to have +you call me. I need to consult with you concerning a rather serious +matter. Yes, so serious I may say it is mysterious, and appalling. It +concerns a shipment of horses. Conrad is in Sonora, and this subject +can't wait--no, I can't get in touch with Conrad. He is out of +communication when over there--No, I can't wait his return. I've had a +wire from Ogden and Burns, New York--said Ogden and Burns--All right, +get a pencil; I'll hold the wire." + +There was a moment of silence, and if a telephonic camera had been +installed at Granados, Mr. Singleton might have caught a very +interesting picture at the other end of the wire. + +A middle-aged man in rusty black of semi-clerical cut held the +receiver, and the effect of the names as given over the wire was, to +put it mildly, electrical. His jaw dropped and he stared across the +table at a man who was seated there. At the repetition of the name, +the other arose, and with the stealthily secretive movement of a +coyote near its prey he circled the table, and drew a chair close to +the telephone. The pencil and paper was in his hand, not in that of +"James." That other was Conrad. + +Then the telephone conversation was resumed after Mr. Singleton had +been requested to speak a little louder--there seemed some flaw in the +connection. + +In the end Singleton appeared much comforted to get the subject off +his own shoulders by discussing it with another. But he had been +convinced that the right thing to do was to motor over to the Junction +and take the telegrams with him for consultation. He would start +about eight in the morning, and would reach the railroad by noon. Yes, +by taking the light car which he drove himself it would be an easy +matter. + +Billie heard part of this discourse in an absent-minded way, for she +was not at all interested as to what some strange lawyer in Nogales +might think of the curious telegrams. + +She would have dropped some of that indifference if she had been able +to hear the lurid language of Conrad after the receiver was hung up. +James listened to him in silence for a bit, and then said: + +"It's your move, brother! There are not supposed to be any mistakes in +the game, and you have permitted our people to wire you a victory when +you were not there to get the wire, and that was a mistake." + +"But Brehman always----" + +"You sent Brehman East and for once forgot what might happen with your +office empty. No,--it is not Singleton's fault; he did the natural +thing. It is not the operator's fault; why should he not give a +message concerning horses to the proprietor of the horse ranch?" + +"But Singleton never before made a move in anything of management, +letters never opened, telegrams filed but never answers sent until I +am there! And this time! It is that most cursed Rhodes, I know it is +that one! They told me he was high in fever and growing worse, and +luck with me! So you yourself know the necessity that I go over for +the Sonora conference--there was no other way. It is that Rhodes! Yes, +I know it, and they told me he was as good as dead--God! if again I +get him in these hands!" + +He paced the floor nervously, and flung out his clenched hands in +fury, and the quiet man watched him. + +"That is personal, and is for the future," he said, "but Singleton is +not a personal matter. If he lives he will be influenced to +investigation, and that must not be. It would remove you from +Granados, and you are too valuable at that place. You must hold that +point as you would hold a fort against the enemy. When Mexico joins +with Germany against the damned English and French, this fool mushroom +republic will protest, and that is the time our friends will sweep +over from Mexico and gather in all these border states--which were +once hers--and will again be hers through the strong mailed hand of +Germany! This is written and will be! When that day comes, we need +such points of vantage as Granados and La Partida; we must have them! +You have endangered that position, and the mistake won't be wiped out. +The next move is yours, Conrad." + +The quiet man in the habiliments of shabby gentility in that bare +little room with the American flag over the door and portraits of two +or three notable advocates of World Peace and the American League of +Neutrality on the wall, had all the outward suggestion of the small +town disciple of Socialism from the orthodox viewpoint. His manner was +carefully restrained, and his low voice was very even, but at his last +words Conrad who had dropped into a seat, his head in his hands, +suddenly looked up, questioning. + +"Singleton can probably do no more harm today," went on the quiet +voice. "I warned him it would be a mistake to discuss it until after +he had seen me. He starts at eight in the morning, alone, for the +railroad but probably will not reach there." He looked at his watch +thoughtfully. "The Tucson train leaves in fifty minutes. You can get +that. Stop off at the station where Brehman's sister is waitress. She +will have his car ready, that will avoid the Junction. It will be +rough work, Conrad, but it is your move. It is an order." + +And then before that carefully quiet man who had the appearance of a +modest country person, Adolf Conrad suddenly came to his feet in +military salute. + +"Come, we will talk it over," suggested his superior. "It will be +rough, yet necessary, and if it could appear suicide, eh? Well, we +will see. We--will--see!" + + * * * * * + +At seven in the morning the Granados telephone bell brought Singleton +into the patio in his dressing gown and slippers. And Dona Luz who was +seeing that his breakfast was served, heard him express surprise and +then say: + +"Why, certainly. If you are coming this way as far on the road as the +Jefferson ranch of course we can meet there, and I only need to go +half way. That will be excellent. Yes, and if Judge Jefferson is at +home he may be able to help with his advice. Fine! Good-bye." + +When Dona Luz was questioned about it later she was quite sure Mr. +Singleton mentioned no name, his words were as words to a friend. + +But all that day the telephone was out of order on the Granados line, +and Singleton did not return that night. There was nothing to cause +question in that, as he had probably gone on to Nogales, but when the +second day came and the telephone not working, Billie started Pedro +Vijil to ride the line to Granados Junction, get the mail, and have a +line man sent out for repairs wherever they were needed. + +It was puzzling because there had been no storm, nothing of which they +knew to account for the silent wire. The line was an independent one +from the Junction, and there were only two stations on it, the +Jefferson ranch and Granados. + +But Vijil forgot about the wire, for he met some sheep men from the +hills carrying the body of Singleton. They had found him in the +cottonwoods below the road not five miles from the hacienda. His car +he had driven off the road back of a clump of thick mesquite. The +revolver was still in his hand, and the right temple covered with +black blood and flies. + +There was nothing better to do than what the herders were doing. The +man had been dead a day and must be buried, also it was necessary to +send a man to Jefferson's, where there was a telephone, to get in +touch with someone in authority and arrange for the funeral. + +So the herders walked along with their burden carried in a _serape_, +and covered by the carriage robe. Pedro had warned them to halt at his +own house, for telephone calls would certainly gather men, who would +help to arrange all decently before the body was taken into the _sala_ +of Granados. + +There is not much room for conjecture as to the means of a man's +taking off when he is found with a bullet in his right temple, a +revolver in his right hand, and only one empty cartridge shell in the +revolver. There seemed no mystery about the death, except the cause of +suicide. + +It was the same evening that Conrad riding in from the south, +attempted to speak over the wire with Granados and got from Central +information that the Granados wire was broken, and Singleton, the +proprietor, a suicide. + +The coroner's inquest so pronounced it, after careful investigation of +the few visible facts. Conrad was of no value as a witness because he +had been absent in Magdalena. He could surmise no reason for such an +act, but confessed he knew practically nothing of Singleton's personal +affairs. He was guardian of his stepdaughter and her estate, and so +far as Conrad knew all his relations with the personnel of the estate +were most amicable. Conrad acknowledged when questioned that Singleton +did usually carry a revolver when out in the car, he had a horror of +snakes, and he had never known him to use a gun for anything else. + +Dona Luz Moreno confused matters considerably by her statement that +Mr. Singleton was going to meet some man at the Jefferson ranch +because the man had called him up before breakfast to arrange it. +Later it was learned that no call was made from any station over the +wire that morning to Granados. There was in fact several records of +failure to get Granados. No one but Dona Luz had heard the call and +heard Singleton reply, yet it was not possible that this communication +could be a fact over a broken wire, and the wire was found broken +between the Jefferson ranch and Granados. + +Whereupon word promptly went abroad among the Mexicans that Senor +Singleton had been lured to his death by a spirit voice calling over a +broken wire as a friend to a friend. For the rest of her life Dona +Luz will have that tale to tell as the evidence of her own ears that +warnings of death do come from the fearsome spirits of the shadowed +unknown land,--and this in denial of all the padres' godly discourse +to the contrary! + +A Mr. Frederick James of Nogales, connected with a group of charitable +gentlemen working for the alleviating of distress among the many +border exiles from Mexico, was the only person who came forward +voluntarily to offer help to the coroner regarding the object of the +dead man's journey to Nogales. Mr. James had been called on the +telephone by Mr. Singleton, who was apparently in great distress of +mind concerning mysterious illness and deaths of horses shipped from +Granados to France. A telegram had come from New York warning him that +the Department of Justice was investigating the matter, and the +excitement and nervousness of Mr. Singleton was such that Mr. James +readily consented to a meeting in Nogales, with the hope that he might +be of service in any investigation they would decide upon after +consultation. When Mr. Singleton did not keep the engagement, Mr. +James attempted to make inquiries by telephone. He tried again the +following morning, but it was only after hearing of the suicide--he +begged pardon--the death of Mr. Singleton, that he recalled the fact +that all of Singleton's discourse over the telephone had been unusual, +excitable to a degree, while all acquaintances of the dead man knew +him as a quiet, reserved man, really unusually reserved, almost to the +point of the secretive. Mr. James was struck by the unusual note of +panic in his tones, but as a carload of horses was of considerable +financial value, he ascribed the excitement in part to that, feeling +confident of course that Mr. Singleton was in no ways accountable for +the loss, but---- + +Mr. James was asked if the nervousness indicated by Mr. Singleton was +a fear of personal consequences following the telegram, but Mr. James +preferred not to say. He had regarded Mr. Singleton as a model of most +of the virtues, and while Singleton's voice and manner had certainly +been unusual, he could not presume to suspect the inner meaning of +it. + +The telegraph and telephone records bore out the testimony of Mr. +James. + +The fact that the first telegram was addressed to the manager, Mr. +Conrad, had apparently nothing to do with the case, since the +telegraph files showed that messages were about evenly divided in the +matter of address concerning ranch matters. They were often addressed +simply to "Granados Rancho" or "Manager Granados Ranch." This one +simply happened to be addressed to the name of the manager. + +The coroner decided that the mode of address had no direct bearing on +the fact that the man was found dead under the cottonwoods with copies +of both telegrams in his pocket, both written in a different hand from +his carefully clear script as shown in his address book. Safe in his +pocket also was money, a gold watch with a small gold compass, and a +handsome seal ring. Nothing was missing, which of course precluded the +thought of murder for robbery, and Philip Singleton was too mildly +negative to make personal enemies, a constitutional neutral. + +Billie, looking very small and very quiet, was brought in by Dona Luz +and Mr. Jefferson of the neighboring ranch, fifty miles to the east. +She had not been weeping. She was too stunned for tears, and there was +a strangely ungirlish tension about her, an alert questioning in her +eyes as she looked from face to face, and then returned to the face of +the one man who was a stranger, the kindly sympathetic face of Mr. +Frederick James. + +She told of the telegrams she had copied, and of the distress of +Singleton, but that his distress was no more than her own, that she +had been crying about the horses, and he had tried to comfort her. She +did not believe he had a trouble in the world of his own, and he had +never killed himself--never! + +When asked if she had any reason to suspect a murderer, she said if +they ever found who killed the horses they would find who killed her +Papa Phil, but this opinion was evidently not shared by any of the +others. The report of horses dead on a transport in the Atlantic +ocean, and a man dead under the cottonwoods in Arizona, did not appear +to have any definite physical relation to each other, unless of course +the loss of the horses had proven too much of a shock to Mr. Singleton +and upset his nerves to the extent that moody depression had developed +into temporary dementia. His own gun had been the evident agent of +death. + +One of the Mexicans recalled that Singleton had discharged an American +foreman in anger, and that the man had been in a rage about it, and +assaulted Mr. Conrad, whereupon Conrad was recalled, and acknowledged +the assault with evident intent to kill. Yes, he heard the man Rhodes +had threatened Singleton with a nastier accident than his attempt on +Conrad. No, he had not heard it personally, as he was unconscious +when the threat was made. + +"It wasn't a threat!" interrupted Billie, "it was something different, +a warning." + +"A warning of what?" + +Billie was about to quote Kit's opinion concerning Singleton's ranch +force, when she was halted by a strange thing--for Billie; it was +merely the mild steady gaze of the quiet gentleman of the peaceful +league of the neutrals. There was a slight lifting of his brows as she +spoke of a warning; and then a slight suggestion of a smile--it might +have been a perfectly natural incredulous smile, but Billie felt that +it was not. The yellowish brown eyes narrowed until only the pupils +were visible, and warm though the day was, Billie felt a swift chill +over her, and her words were cautious. + +"I can't say, I don't know, but Kit Rhodes had no grudge against Papa +Phil. He seemed in some way to be sorry for him." + +She noted that Conrad's gaze was on the face of Mr. James instead of +on her. + +"Sorry for him?" + +"Y-yes, sort of. He tried to explain why, but Papa would not listen, +and would not make any engagement with him. Sent his money by Captain +Pike and wouldn't see him. But Kit Rhodes did not make a threat, he +did not!" + +Her last denial was directly at Conrad, who merely shrugged his +shoulders as if to dispose of that awkward phase of the matter. + +"It was told me so, but the Mexican men might not have understood the +words of Rhodes--he was in a rage--and it may be he did not mean so +much as he said." + +"But he didn't say it!" insisted Billie. + +"Very good, he did not, and it is a mistake of mine," agreed Conrad +politely. "For quite awhile I was unconscious after his assault, +naturally I know nothing of what was said." + +"And where is this man Rhodes to be found?" asked the coroner, and +Conrad smiled meaningly. + +"Nowhere,--or so I am told! He and a companion are said to have +crossed the line into Sonora twenty-four hours before the death of Mr. +Singleton." + +"Well, unless there is some evidence that he was seen later on this +side, any threat he might or might not have made, has no relation +whatever to this case. Is there any evidence that he was seen at, or +near, Granados after starting for Sonora?" + +No evidence was forthcoming, and the coroner, in summoning up, +confessed he was not satisfied to leave certain details of the case a +mystery. + +That Singleton had discharged Rhodes in anger, and Rhodes had, even by +intimation, voiced a threat against Singleton could not be considered +as having any bearing on the death of the latter; while the voice of +the unknown calling him to a meeting at Jefferson's ranch was equally +a matter of mystery, since no one at Jefferson's knew anything of the +message, or the speaker, and investigation developed the fact that the +telephone wire was broken between the two ranches, and there was no +word at Granados Junction Central of any message to Granados after +five o'clock the afternoon of the previous day. + +And, since Philip Singleton never reached the Jefferson ranch, but +turned his car off the road at the cottonwood canon, and was found +with one bullet in his head, and the gun in his own hand, it was not +for a coroner's jury to conjecture the impulse leading up to the act, +or the business complications by which the act might, or might not, +have been hastened. But incomprehensible though it might seem to all +concerned there was only one finding on the evidence submitted, and +that was suicide. + +"Papa Phil never killed himself, never!" declared Billie. "That would +be two suicides in a month for Granados, and two is one too many. We +never had suicides here before." + +"Who was the other?" + +"Why, Miguel Herrara who had been arrested for smuggling, was searched +and his gun taken, and yet that night found a gun to kill himself with +in the adobe where he was locked up! Miguel would not have cared for a +year or two in jail; he had lived there before, and hadn't tried any +killing. I tell you Granados is getting more than its share." + +"It sure looks like it, little lady," agreed the coroner, "but +Herrara's death gives us no light or evidence on Singleton's death, +and our jurisdiction is limited strictly to the hand that held the +gun. The evidence shows it was in the hand of Mr. Singleton when +found." + +The Jeffersons insisted that Billie go home with them, as the girl +appeared absolutely and pathetically alone in the world. She knew of +no relatives, and Tia Luz and Captain Pike were the only two whom she +had known from babyhood as friends of her father's. + +The grandmother of Billie Bernard had been the daughter of a Spanish +_haciendado_ who was also an officer in the army of Mexico. He met +death in battle before he ever learned that his daughter, in the pious +work of nursing friend and enemy alike, had nursed one enemy of the +hated North until each was captive to the other, and she rode beside +him to her father's farthest northern rancho beyond the Mexican +deserts, and never went again to the gay circles of Mexico's capital. +Late in her life one daughter, Dorotea was born, and when Alfred +Bernard came out of the East and looked on her, a blonde Spanish girl +as her ancestresses of Valencia had been, the game of love was played +again in the old border rancho which was world enough for the lovers. +There had been one eastern summer for them the first year of their +marriage, and Philip Singleton had seen her there, and never forgot +her. After her widowhood he crossed the continent to be near her, and +after awhile his devotion, and her need of help in many ways, won the +place he coveted, and life at Granados went on serenely until her +death. Though he had at times been bored a bit by the changelessness +of ranch life, yet he had given his word to guard the child's +inheritance until she came of age, and had kept it loyally as he knew +how until death met him in the canon of the cottonwoods. + +But the contented isolation of her immediate family left Billie only +such guardian as the court might appoint for her property and person, +and Andrew Jefferson, Judge Jefferson by courtesy, in the county, +would no doubt be choice of the court as well as the girl. Beyond that +she could only think of Pike, and--well Pike was out of reach on some +enchanted gold trail of which she must not speak, and she supposed she +would have to go to school instead of going in search of him! + +Conrad spoke to her kindly as she was led to the Jefferson car, and +there was a subtle deference in his manner, indicating his realization +that he was speaking--not to the wilful little maid who could be +annoying--but to the owner of Granados and, despite his five year +contract as manager, an owner who could change entirely the activities +of the two ranches in another year--and it was an important year. + +He also spoke briefly to Mr. James offering him the hospitality of the +ranch for a day of rest before returning to Nogales, but the offer was +politely declined. Mr. James intimated that he was at Conrad's service +if he could be of any practical use in the mysterious situation. He +carefully gave his address and telephone number, and bade the others +good day. But as he was entering his little roadster he spoke again to +Conrad. + +"By the way, it was a mistake to let that man Rhodes get over into +Sonora. It should be the task of someone to see that he does not come +back. He seems a very dangerous man. See to it!" + +The words were those of a kindly person interested in the welfare of +the community, and evidently impressed by the evidence referring to +the discharged range boss. Two of the men hearing him exchanged +glances, for they also thought that rumor of the threats should have +been looked into. But the last three words were spoken too softly for +any but Conrad to hear. + +The following week Billie went to Tucson with the Jeffersons and at +her request Judge Jefferson was appointed guardian of her person and +estate, after which she and the judge went into a confidential session +concerning that broken wire on the Granados line. + +"I'm not loco, Judge," she insisted, "but I want you to learn whether +that wire was cut on purpose, or just broke itself. Also I want you to +take up that horse affair with the secret service people. I don't want +Conrad to be sent away--yet. I'd rather watch him on Granados. I won't +go away to school; I'd rather have a teacher at home. We can find +one." + +"But, do you realize that with two mysterious deaths on Granados +lately, you might run some personal risk of living there with only +yourself and two women in the house? I'm not sure we can sanction +that, my child." + +Billie smiled at him a bit wanly, but decided. + +"Now Judge, you know I picked you because you would let me do whatever +I pleased, and I don't mean to be disappointed with you. Half the men +at the inquest think that Kit Rhodes did come back to do that +shooting, and you know Conrad and the very smooth rat of the Charities +Society are accountable for that opinion. The Mexican who dragged in +Kit's name is one of Conrad's men; it all means something! It's a bad +muddle, but Kit Rhodes and Cap Pike will wander back here some of +these days, and I mean to have every bit of evidence for Kit to start +in with. He suspected a lot, and all Granados combined to silence +him--fool Granados!" + +"But, just between ourselves, child, are you convinced Rhodes did not +make the statement liable to be construed into a threat against Mr. +Singleton?" + +"Convinced nothing," was the inelegant reply of his new ward. "I heard +him say enough to hang him if evidence could be found that he was +north of the line that morning, and that's why it's my job to take +note of all the evidence on the other side. The horses did not kill +themselves. That telegram concerning it did not send itself. Papa Phil +did not shoot himself, and that telephone wire did not cut itself! My +hunch is that those four things go together, and that's a combination +they can't clear up by dragging in the name of a man who never saw the +horses, and who was miles south in Sonora with Cap Pike when the other +three things happened. Now can they?" + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +IN THE PROVINCE OF ALTAR + + + _There was a frog who lived in the spring: + Sing-song Kitty, can't yo' carry me, oh? + And it was so cold that he could not sing, + Sing-song Kitty, can't yo' carry me, oh? + Ke-mo! Ki-mo! Dear--oh my! + To my hi'--to my ho--to my----_ + +"Oh! For the love of Mike! Bub, can't you give a man a rest instead of +piling up the agony? These old joints of mine are creakin' with every +move from desert rust and dry camps, and you with no more heart in you +than to sing of springs,--cold springs!" + +"They do exist, Cap." + +"Uh--huh, they are as real to us this minute as the red gold that +we've trailed until we're at the tag end of our grub stake. I tell +you, Bub, they stacked the cards on us with that door of the old +Soledad Mission, and the view of the gold canon from there! Why, +Whitely showed us that the mission door never did face the hills, but +looked right down the valley towards the Rio del Altar just as the +Soledad plaza does today; all the old Mexicans and Indians tell us +that." + +"Well, we've combed over most of the arroyas leading into the Altar +from Rancho Soledad, and all we've found is placer gravel; yet the +placers are facts, and the mother lode is somewhere, Cap." + +"Worn down to pan dirt, that's what!" grunted Pike. "I tell you these +heathen sit around and dream lost mission tales and lost mine lies; +dream them by the dozen to delude just such innocent yaps as you and +me. They've nothing else to do between crops. We should have stuck to +a white man's land, north into Arizona where the Three Hills of Gold +are waiting, to say nothing of the Lost Stone Cabin mine, lost not +twenty miles from Quartzite, and in plain sight of Castle Dome. Now +there is nothing visionary about _that_, Kit! Why, I knew an old-timer +who freighted rich ore out of that mine thirty years ago, and even the +road to it has been lost for years! We know things once did exist up +in that country, Kit, and down here we are all tangled up with +Mexican-Indian stories of ghosts and enchantments, and such vagaries. +I'm fed up with them to the limit, for everyone of them we listen to +is different from the last. We'll head up into the Castle Dome country +next time, hear me?" + +"Sure, I hear," agreed Kit cheerfully. "Perhaps we do lose, but it's +not so bad. Since Whitely sent his family north, he has intimated that +Mesa Blanca is a single man's job, and I reckon I can have it when he +goes--as he will. Then in the month we have scouted free of Whitelys, +we have dry washed enough dust to put you on velvet till things come +our way. Say, what will you bet that a month of comfort around Nogales +won't make you hungry for the trail again?" + +"A gold trail?" queried the weary and dejected Pike. + +"Any old trail to any old place just so we keep ambling on. You can't +live contented under cover, and you know it." + +"Well," decided Pike after a rod or two of tramping along the shaly, +hot bed of a dry arroya. "I won't bet, for you may be among the +prophets. But while you are about it, I'd be thankful if you'd +prophesy me a wet trail next time instead of skimpy mud holes where +springs ought to be. I'm sick of dry camps, and so is Baby Buntin'." + +"_'Oh, there was a frog lived in the spring!'_" chanted Kit +derisively. "Cheer up, Cap, the worst is yet to come, for I've an idea +that the gang of Mexican vaqueros we glimpsed from the butte at noon +will just about muss up the water hole in Yaqui canon until it will be +us for a sleep there before the fluid is fit for a water bottle. _'Oh, +there was a frog lived in the spring!'_ Buntin' Baby, we'll fish the +frog out, and let you wallow in it instead, you game little dusty rat! +Say, Pike, when we load up with grub again we'll keep further west to +the Cerrado Pintado. I'll follow a hunch of my own next trip." + +The older man grunted disdain for the hunches of Kit, even while his +eyes smiled response to the ever-living call of youth. To Rhodes there +was ever a "next time." He was young enough to deal in futures, and +had a way with him by which friends were to be found for even unstable +venturings with no backing more substantial than a "hunch." + +Not that Kit was gifted with any great degree of fatal beauty--men are +not often pretty on the trail, unwashed, unshaven, and unshorn--added +to which their equipment had reached the point where his most +pretentious garment was a square of an Indian _serape_ with a hole in +the middle worn as a poncho, and adopted to save his coat and other +shirt on the hard trail. + +Cap Pike growled that he looked like a Mexican peon in that raiment, +which troubled Kit not at all. He was red bronze from the desert days, +and his blue eyes, with the long black lashes of some Celtic ancestor, +looked out on the world with direct mild approval. They matched the +boyish voice much given to trolling old-time ditties and sentimental +foolishness. + +He led the dappled roan over the wild dry "wash" where the sand was +deep and slippery, and the white crust of alkali over all. Before him +swayed the pack mules, and back of him Captain Pike sagged on the +little gray burro, named in derision and affection, the Baby Bunting +of the outfit. + +The jauntiness was temporarily eliminated from the old prospector. Two +months of fruitless scratching gravel when he had expected to walk +without special delay to the great legendary deposit, had taken the +sparkle of hope from the blue eyes, and he glanced perfunctorily at +the walls of that which had once been a river bed. + +"What in time do you reckon became of all the water that used to fill +these dry gullies?" he asked querulously. "Why, it took a thousand +years of floods to wash these boulders round, and then leave them high +and dry when nicely polished. That's a waste in nature I can't figure +out, and this godforsaken territory is full of them." + +"Well, you grouch, if we didn't have this dry bed to skip along, we +would be bucking the greasewood and cactus on the mesa above. So we +get some favors coming our way." + +"Skip along,--me eye!" grunted Pike, as the burro toiled laboriously +through the sand, and Kit shifted and stumbled over treacherous, +half-buried boulders. "Say, Kit, don't you reckon it's time for Billie +to answer my letter? It's over eight weeks now, and mail ought to get +in once a month." + +Rhodes grunted something about "mail in normal times, but these times +were not normal," and did not seem much interested in word from +Granados. + +He had not the heart, or else had too much, to tell the old man that +the letter to Billie never reached her. When Whitely went north he put +it in his coat pocket, and then changed his coat! Kit found it a month +later and held it, waiting to find someone going out. He had not even +mentioned it to Whitely on his return, for Whitely was having his own +troubles, and could not spare a man for a four day trip to mail. + +Whitely's folks lived north of Naco, and he had gone there direct +and returned without touching at Nogales, or hearing of the tragedy +at Granados. The latest news of the Mexican revolutions, and the +all-absorbing question as to whether the United States would or +would not intervene, seemed all the news the worried Whitely had +brought back. Even the slaughter of a dozen nations of Europe had +no new features to a ranchman of Sonora,--it remained just slaughter. +And one did not need to cross boundaries to learn of killings, for +all the world seemed aflame, and every state in Mexico had its own +wars,--little or big. + +Then, in the records of the tumultuous days, there was scarce space +for the press or people to give thought after the first day or two, to +the colorless life going out in mystery under the cottonwoods of +Granados, and no word came to tell Rhodes of the suspicion, only half +veiled, against himself. + +The ranch house of Mesa Blanca was twenty miles from the hacienda of +Soledad, and a sharp spur of the Carrizal range divided their grazing +lands. Soledad reached a hundred miles south and Mesa Blanca claimed +fifty miles to the west, so that the herds seldom mingled, but word +filtered to and from between the vaqueros, and Rhodes heard that Perez +had come north from Hermosillo and that El Aleman, (the German) had +made the two day trip in from the railroad, and had gone on a little +_pasear_ to the small rancherias with Juan Gonsalvo, the half-breed +overseer. The vaqueros talked with each other about that, for there +were no more young men among them for soldiers, only boys and old men +to tend the cattle, and what did it mean? + +The name of Rhodes was not easy for the Mexican tongue, and at Mesa +Blanca his identity was promptly lost in the gift of a name with a +meaning to them, El Pajarito, (the singer). Capitan Viajo, (the old +captain), was accepted by Pike with equal serenity, as both men were +only too well pleased to humor the Indian ranch people in any friendly +concessions, for back of some of those alert black eyes there were +surely inherited records of old pagan days, and old legends of golden +veins in the hills. + +The fact that they were left practically nameless in a strange +territory did not occur to either of them, and would not have +disturbed them if it had. They had met no American but Whitely since +they first struck Mesa Blanca. One month Kit had conscientiously stuck +to the ranch cares while Whitely took his family out, and Pike had +made little sallies into the hills alone. + +On Whitely's return he had made an errand to Soledad and taken Rhodes +and Pike along that they might view the crumbled walls of old Soledad +Mission, back of the ranch house. The ancient rooms of the mission +padres were now used principally as corrals, harness shop, and storage +rooms. + +The situation in itself was one of rare beauty;--those old padres +knew! + +It was set on a high plain or mesa, facing a wide valley spreading +miles away to the south where mother-of-pearl mountains were ranged +like strung jewels far against the Mexican sky. At the north, +slate-blue foothills lifted their sharp-edged shoulders three miles +away, but only blank walls of Soledad faced the hills, all portals of +the old mission appeared to have faced south, as did Soledad. The door +facing the hills was a myth. And as Rhodes stood north of the old +wall, and searched its thirty-mile circle, he could understand how +four generations of gold seekers had failed to find even a clue to the +wealth those unknown padres had looked on, and sent joyous evidence of +to the viceroy of the south. It would take years of systematic search +to cover even half the visible range. A man could devote a long +lifetime to a fruitless search there, and then some straying burro +might uncover it for an Indian herder who would fill his poncho, and +make a sensation for a week or two, and never find the trail again! + +"It's just luck!" said Kit thinking it all over as he tramped along +the arroya bed, "it either belongs to you, or it doesn't. No man on +earth can buy it and make it stay, but if it is yours, no man can keep +you from it entirely." + +"What the devil are you yammering about?" asked Pike grumpily. + +"Oh, I was just thinking of how Whitely exploded our little balloon of +hopes when he took us over to size up the prospects at Soledad. I +wonder if Perez has no white help at all around that place. We did not +even see the foreman." + +"He's a half-breed, that Juan Gonsalvo. The Indians don't like him. +He's from down Hermosillo way, and not like these Piman children of +nature. He and Conrad are up to some devilment, but Whitely thinks +Juan took the job, deluded as we are, with the notion that a gold mine +was sticking up out of the ground at the Soledad corrals, and it was +to be his find. You see, Bub, that story has gone the length of +Mexico, and even over to Spain. Oh, we are not the only trailers of +ghost gold; there are others!" + +The slanting sun was sending shadows long on the levels, and the hills +were looming to the east in softest tones of gray and amethyst; the +whitish green of desert growths lay between, and much of brown desert +yet to cross. + +"We can't make the foothills tonight even though there is an early +moon," decided Kit. "But we can break camp at dawn and make it before +the sun is high, and the water will hold out that long." + +"It will hold for Buntin' and the mules, but what of Pardner?" asked +the older man. "He's not used to this hard pan gravel scratching." + +"But he's thoroughbred, and he can stand it twelve hours more if I +can, can't you, old pal?" The tall roan with the dot of black between +the eyes returned his owner's caress by nosing his bare neck, and the +hand held up to smooth the black mane. + +"I'll be glad enough to see him safe across the border in old +Arizona," observed Pike. "I can't see how the herders saved him for +you at Mesa Blanca when their own stock was picked of its best for the +various patriots charging through the settlements." + +"Some way, Miguel, the Indian vaquero, managed it, or got his girl to +hide it out. Whitely confessed that his Indian cattlemen are the most +loyal he can find down here." + +"But it's not a white man's land--yet, and I'm downright glad he's +shipped his family north. There's always hell enough in Sonora, but +it's a dovecote to what it's bound to be before the end comes, and so, +it's no place for white men's wives." + +"Right you are! Say, what was it Whitely heard down in Sinaloa +concerning the Enchanted Canon mine?" + +"Oh, some old priest's tale--the same dope we got with a different +slant to it. The gold nuggets from some shrine place where the water +gushed _muy fuerte_, by a sycamore tree. Same old nuggets sent out +with the message, and after that the insurrection of the Indians, and +the priests who found it never lived to get out. Why, Bub, that is +nearly two hundred years ago! Stop and think of the noble Castilians +going over Sonora with a fine tooth comb for that trail ever since and +then think of the nerve of us!" + +"Well, I'm nearer to it anyway than the Dutchman who trekked in from +the south last year with copies of the old mission reports as guide, +for the Yaquis killed him, and took his records, while they hide my +horse for me." + +"Huh! yes, and warn you to ride him north!" + +"Correct;--but Pike, it was a warning, not a threat! Oh, I'm coming +back all right, all right! That gold by the hidden stream sure has got +me roped and hog tied for keeps." + +Pike growled good-natured disdain of his confidence, and suggested +that the stream, which was probably only a measly mud hole, could have +dropped to purgatory in an earthquake tremor since those first old +mission days, or filled up with quicksand. + +"Right you are, Cap. That's a first-rate idea," agreed Kit the +irrepressible. "Next trip we'll start looking for streams that were +and are not; we're in the bed of one now for that matter!" + +"Somewhere ahead we should come into the trail south from Carracita," +observed Pike, "but I reckon you'd just as soon camp with Pard out of +sight of the trail." + +There was silence for a bit as they plodded on up the wide dry bed of +the river, and then Kit turned, glancing at the old man keenly. + +"I didn't fool you much when I called that gang 'vaqueros,' did I?" +he observed. "Well, they didn't look good to me, and I decided I'd +have to fight for my horse if we crossed trails, and--it wastes a lot +of time, fighting does." + +"No, you didn't fool me. You'd be seven kinds of an idiot to walk in +this gully of purgatory when you could ride safely on the mesa above, +so I guessed you had a hunch it was the friendly and acquisitive +patriots." + +"Pike, they were between us and the Palomitas rancherias of Mesa +Blanca or I'd have made a try to get through and warn the Indians +there. Those men had no camp women with them, so they were not a +detachment of the irregular cavalry,--that's what puzzles me. And +their horses were fresh. It's some new devilment." + +"There's nothing new in Sonora, son. Things happen over and over the +same." + +The shadows lengthened, and the blue range to the east had sharp, +black edges against the saffron sky, and the men plodding along over +sand and between boulders, fell silent after the little exchange of +confidence as to choice of trail. Once Kit left the gully and climbed +the steep grade to the mesa alone to view the landscape over, but slid +and scrambled down,--hot, dusty, and vituperative. + +"Not a sign of life but some carrion crows moving around in the blue +without flop of a wing," he grumbled. "Who started the dope that +mankind is the chosen of the Lord? Huh! we have to scratch gravel for +all we rake in but the birds of the air have us beat for desert travel +all right, all right!" + +"Well, Bub, if you saw no one's dust it must be that gang were not +headed for Palomitas or Whitely's." + +"They could strike Palomitas, and circle over to the east road without +striking Whitely's home corrals," said Kit thoughtfully. + +"Sure they could, but what's the object? If it's cattle or horses +they're after the bigger ranch is the bigger haul?" + +"Yes,--if it's stock they're after," agreed Kit somberly. + +"Why, lad, what--what's got you now?" + +"I reckon it's the damned buzzards," acknowledged the younger man. "I +don't know what struck me as I sat up there watching them. Maybe it's +their blackness, maybe it's their provender, maybe it was just the +loco of their endless drifting shadows, but for a minute up there I +had an infernal sick feeling. It's a new one on me, and there was +nothing I could blame it on but disgust of the buzzards." + +"You're goin' too shy on the water, and never knew before that you had +nerves," stated Pike sagely. "I've been there; fought with a pardner +once,--Jimmy Dean, till he had to rope me. You take a pull at the +water bottle, and take it now." + +Kit did so, but shook his head. + +"It touches the right spot, but it was not a thirst fancy. It was +another thought and--O Bells of Pluto! Pike, let's talk of something +else! What was that you said about the Sinaloa priest story of the red +gold? You said something about a new slant on the old dope." + +"Uh-huh!" grunted Pike. "At least it was a new slant to me. I've heard +over and over about uprising of Indians, and death of the two priests +who found their mine, but this Sinaloa legend has it that the Indians +did not kill the priests, but that their gods did!" + +"Their gods?" + +"Yeh, the special gods of that region rose up and smote them. That's +why the Indians barred out other mission priests for so long a spell +that no white man remembered just where the lost shrine of the red +gold was. Of course it's all punk, Bub, just some story of the heathen +sheep to hide the barbecuing of their shepherds." + +"Maybe so, but I've as much curiosity as a pet coon. What special +process did their gods use to put the friars out of commission?" + +"Oh, lightning. The original priests' report had it that the red gold +was at some holy place of the tribes, a shrine of some sort. Well, you +know the usual mission rule--if they can't wean the Indian from his +shrine, they promptly dig foundations and build a church there under +heavenly instructions. That's the story of this shrine of El Alisal +where the priests started to build a little branch chapel or _visita_, +for pious political reasons--and built it at the gold shrine. It went +down in the priests' letter or record as gold of rose, a deep red +gold. Well, under protest, the Indians helped build a shack for a +church altar under a great aliso tree there, but when lightning struck +the priests, killed both and burned the shack, you can see what that +manifestation would do to the Indian mind." + +Kit halted, panting from the heart-wearying trail, and looked Pike +over disgustedly. + +"Holy mackerel! Pike, haven't you _any_ imagination? You've had this +new side to the story for over a month and never even cheeped about +it! I heard you and Whitely talking out on the porch, but I didn't +hear this!" + +"Why, Bub, it's just the same old story, everyone of them have half a +dozen different sides to it." + +"But this one explains things, this one has logic, this one blazes a +trail!" declared the enthusiast. "This one explains good and plenty +why no Indian has ever cheeped about it, no money could bribe him to +it. Can't you see? Of course that lightning was sent by their wrathy +gods, of course it was! But do you note that place of the gold, and +place of the shrine where the water rises, is also some point where +there is a dyke of iron ore near, a magnet for the lightning? And that +is not here in those sandy mesas and rocky barrancas--it's to the west +in the hills, Pike. Can't you see that?" + +"Too far from the old north and south trail, Bub. There was nothing to +take padres so far west to the hills. The Indians didn't even live +there; only strayed up for nuts and hunting in the season." + +"Save your breath!" jeered Kit. "It's me to hike back to Mesa Blanca +and offer service at fifty dollars per, and live like a miser until we +can hit the trail again. I may find a tenderfoot to buy that valley +tract of mine up in Yuma, and get cash out of that. Oh, we will get +the finances somehow! I'll write a lawyer soon as we get back to +Whitely's--God! what's that?" + +They halted, holding breath to listen. + +"A coyote," said Pike. + +"No, only one animal screams like that--a wildcat in the timber. But +it's no wildcat." + +Again the sound came. It was either from a distance or else muffled +by the barrier of the hill, a blood-curdling scream of sickening +terror. + +A cold chill struck the men as they looked at each other. + +"The carrion crows knew!" said Kit. "You hold the stock, Pike." + +He quickly slipped his rifle from its case, and started up the knoll. + +"The stock will stand," said Pike. "I'm with you." + +As the two men ran upward to the summit and away from the crunching of +their own little outfit in the bed of the dry river, they were struck +by the sound of clatter of hoofs and voices. + +"Bub, do you know where we are?" asked Pike--"this draw slants south +and has brought us fair into the Palomitas trail where it comes into +the old Yaqui trail, and on south to hell." + +"To hell it is, if it's the slavers again after women," said Kit. +"Come quiet." + +They reached the summit where cacti and greasewood served as shield, +and slightly below them they saw, against the low purple hills, clouds +of dust making the picture like a vision and not a real thing, a line +of armed horsemen as outpost guards, and men with roped arms stumbling +along on foot slashed at occasionally with a _reata_ to hasten their +pace. Women and girls were there, cowed and drooping, with torn +garments and bare feet. Forty prisoners in all Kit counted of those +within range, ere the trail curved around the bend of a hill. + +"But that scream?" muttered Kit. "All those women are silent as death, +but that scream?" Then he saw. + +One girl was in the rear, apart from the rest of the group. A +blond-bearded man spurred his horse against her, and a guard lashed at +her to keep her behind. Her scream of terror was lest she be separated +from that most woeful group of miserables. The horse was across the +road, blocking it, as the man with the light beard slid from the +saddle and caught her. + +Kit's gun was thrown into position as Pike caught his hand. + +"_No!_" he said. "Look at her!" + +For the Indian girl was quicker far. From the belt of her assailant +she grasped a knife and lunged at his face as he held her. His one +hand went to his cheek where the blood streamed, and his other to his +revolver. + +But even there she was before him, for she held the knife in both +hands against her breast, and threw herself forward in the haze of +dust. + +The other guard dismounted and stared at the still figure on the +trail, then kicked her over until he could see her face. One look was +enough. He jerked the knife from the dead body, wiped it on her +_manta_, and turned to tie a handkerchief over the cheek of the +wounded horseman. + +Kit muttered an oath of horror, and hastily drew the field glass from +its case to stare at the man whose beard, a false one, had been torn +off in the struggle. It was not easy to re-adjust it so that it would +not interfere with the bandage, and thus he had a very fair view of +the man's features, and his thoughts were of Billie's words to Conrad +concerning slave raids in Sonora. Had Billie really suspected, or had +she merely connected his Mexican friends with reports of raids for +girls in the little Indian pueblos? + +Pike reached for the glass, but by the time he could focus it to fit +his eyes, the man had re-mounted, riding south, and there was only the +dead girl left there where she fell, an Indian girl they both knew, +Anita, daughter of Miguel, the major-domo of Mesa Blanca, whose own +little rancheria was with the Pimans at Palomitas. + +"Look above, Cap," said Kit. + +Above two pair of black wings swept in graceful curves against the +saffron sky--waiting! + +Rhodes went back to the outfit for pick and shovel, and when twilight +fell they made a grave there in the dusky canon of the desert. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE SLAVE TRAIL + + +They camped that night in the barranca, and next morning a thin blue +smoke a mile away drew Kit out on the roan even in the face of the +heat to be, and the water yet to find. He hoped to discover someone +who had been more fortunate in escape. + +He found instead an Indian he knew, one whose gray hair was matted +with blood and who stood as if dazed by terror at sound of hoofs. It +was Miguel, the Pima head man of Mesa Blanca. + +"Why, Miguel, don't you know me?" asked Kit. + +The eyes of the man had a strange look, and he did not answer. But he +did move hesitatingly to the horse and stroked it. + +"_Caballo_," he said. "_Muy bueno, caballo._" + +"Yes," agreed Pardner's rider, "very good always." + +"_Si_ senor, always." + +Kit swung from the saddle, and patted the old man's shoulder. He was +plainly dazed from either a hurt, or shock, and would without doubt +die if left alone. + +"Come, you ride, and we'll go to camp, then find water," suggested +Kit. "Camp here no good. Come help me find water." + +That appeal penetrated the man's mind more clearly. Miguel had been +the well-trusted one of the Indian vaqueros, used to a certain +dependence put upon him, and he straightened his shoulders for a +task. + +"_Si_ senor, a good padrone are you, and water it will be found for +you." He was about to mount when he halted, bewildered, and looked +about him as if in search. + +"All--my people--" he said brokenly. "My children of me--my child!" + +Kit knew that his most winning child lay newly covered under the sand +and stones he had gathered by moonlight to protect the grave from +coyotes. + +But there was a rustle back of him and a black-eyed elf, little more +than a child, was standing close, shaking the sand from her hair. + +"I am hearing you speak. I know it is you, and I come," she said. + +It was Tula, the younger daughter of Miguel,--one who had carried them +water from the well on her steady head, and played with the babies on +the earthen floors at the pueblo of Palomitas. + +But the childish humors were gone, and her face wore the Indian mask +of any age. + +"Tell me," said Kit. + +"It is at Palomitas. I was in the willows by the well when they came, +Juan Gonsalvo and El Aleman, and strange soldiers. All the women +scream and make battle, also the men, and that is when my father is +hurt in the head, that is when they are taking my mother, and Anita, +my sister. Some are hiding. And El Aleman and Juan Gonsalvo make the +count, and sent the men for search. That is how it was." + +"Why do you say El Aleman?" asked Rhodes. + +"I seeing him other time with Don Jose, and hearing how he talk. Also +Anita knowing him, and scream his name--'Don Adolf!'--when he catch +her. Juan Gonsalvo has a scarf tied over the face--all but the eyes, +but the Don Adolf has the face now covered with hairs and I seeing +him. They take all the people. My father is hurt, but lives. He tries +to follow and is much sick. My mother is there, and Anita, my sister, +is there. He thinks it better to find them--it is his head is sick. He +walks far beside me, and does not know me." + +"You are hungry?" + +She showed him a few grains of parched corn tied up in the corner of +her _manta_. "Water I have, and roots of the sand." + +"Water," repeated Miguel mechanically. "Yes, I am the one who knows +where it comes. I am the one to show you." + +The eyes of the girl met Kit's gaze of understanding. + +"The hurt is of his head," she stated again. "In the night he made +speech of strange old-time things, secret things, and of fear." + +"So? Well, it was a bad night for old men and Indian girls in the +desert. Let's be moving." + +Tula picked up her hidden wicker water bottle and trudged on sandaled +feet beside Kit. Miguel went into a heap in the saddle, dazed, +muttering disjointed Indian words, only one was repeated often enough +to make an impression,--it was Cajame. + +"What is Cajame?" he asked the girl, and she gave him a look of +tolerance. + +"He was of chiefs the most great. He was killed for his people. He was +the father of my father." + +Kit tried to recall where he had heard the name, but failed. No one +had chanced to mention that Miguel, the peaceful Piman, had any claims +on famous antecedents. He had always seemed a grave, silent man, +intent only on herding the stock and caring for the family, at the +little cluster of adobes by the well of Palomitas. It was about two +miles from the ranch house, but out of sight. An ancient river hill +terminated in a tall white butte at the junction of two arroyas, and +the springs feeding them were the deciding influence regarding +location of dwellings. Rhodes could quickly perceive how a raid could +be made on Palomitas and, if no shots were fired, not be suspected at +the ranch house of Mesa Blanca. + +The vague sentences of Miguel were becoming more connected, and Kit, +holding him in the saddle, was much puzzled by some of them. + +"It is so, and we are yet dying," he muttered as he swayed in the +saddle. "We, the Yaqui, are yet dumb as our fathers bade. But it is +the end, senor, and the red gold of Alisal is our own, and----" + +Then his voice dwindled away in mutterings and Rhodes saw that the +Indian girl was very alert, but watching him rather than her father as +she padded along beside him. + +"Where is it--Alisal?" he asked carelessly, and her velvet-black eyes +narrowed. + +"I think not anyone is knowing. It is also evil to speak of that +place," she said. + +"What makes the evil?" + +"Maybe so the padres. I no knowing, what you think?" + +But they had reached the place of camp where Cap Pike had the packs on +the animals, waiting and restless. + +"Well, you're a great little collector, Bub," he observed. "You start +out on the bare sand and gravel and raise a right pert family. Who's +your friend?" + +Despite his cynical comment, he was brisk enough with help when Miguel +slid to the ground, ashen gray, and senseless. + +"Now we are up against trouble, with an old cripple and a petticoat to +tote, and water the other side of the range." + +But he poured a little of the precious fluid down the throat of the +Indian, who recovered, but stared about vacantly. + +"Yes, senor," he said nodding his head when his eyes rested on Rhodes, +"as you say--it is for the water--as you say--it is the end--for the +Yaqui. Dead is Cajame--die all we by the Mexican! To you, senor, my +child, and El Alisal of the gold of the rose. So it will be, senor. It +is the end--the water is there, senor. It is to you." + +"That's funny," remarked Pike, "he's gone loony and talking of old +chief Cajame of the Yaquis. He was hanged by the Mexican government +for protesting against loot by the officials. A big man he was, +nothing trifling about Cajame! That old Indian had eighty thousand in +gold in a government bank. Naturally the Christian rulers couldn't +stand for that sort of shiftlessness in a heathen! Years ago it was +they burned him out, destroyed his house and family;--the whole thing +was hellish." + +The girl squatting in the sand, never took her eyes off Pike's face. +It was not so much the words, but the tone and expression she gave +note to, and then she arose and moved over beside her father. + +"No," she said stolidly, "it is his families here, Yaqui me--no Pima! +Hiding he was when young, hiding with Pima men all safe. The padre of +me is son to Cajame,--only to you it is told, you Americano!" + +Her eyes were pitiful in their strained eagerness, striving with all +her shocked troubled soul to read the faces of the two men, and +staking all her hopes of safety in her trust. + +"You bet we're Americano, Tula, and so will you be when we get you +over the border," stated Rhodes recklessly. "I don't know how we are +going to do it, Cap, but I swear I'm not going to let a plucky little +girl like that go adrift to be lifted by the next gang of raiders. We +need a mascot anyway, and she is going to be it." + +"You're a nice sort of seasoned veteran, Bub," admitted Pike dryly, +"but in adopting a family it might be as well to begin with a he +mascot instead of what you've picked. A young filly like that might +turn hoodoo." + +"I reckon I'd have halted for a sober second thought if it hadn't been +for that other girl under the stones down there," agreed Rhodes. "But +shucks!--with all the refugees we're feeding across the line where's +the obstacle to this one?" + +The old prospector was busy with the wounded head for the Indian and +had no reply ready, but shook his head ominously. Rhodes scowled and +began uncoiling a _reata_ in case it would be needed to tie Miguel in +the saddle. + +"We've got to get some hustle to this outfit," he observed glancing at +the sun. "It's too far to take them back to Whitely's, and water has +to be had. We are really nearer to Soledad!" + +The Indian girl came closer to him, speaking in a low, level manner, +strange and secretive, yet not a whisper. + +"He does know--and water is there at that place," she said. "In the +night I am hearing him speak all what the ancients hide. He no can +walk to that place, maybe I no can walk, but go you for the gold in +the hidden canon. You are Americano,--strong,--is it not? A brave +heart and much of gold of rose would bring safe again the mother of me +and my sister! All this I listen to in the night. For them the gold of +rose by the hidden water is to be uncovered again. But see, his hands +are weak, his head is like the _nino_ in the reed basket. A stronger +heart must find the way--it is you." + +Lowly, haltingly, she kept on that level-voiced decision. It was +evident that the ravings of her father through the long hours of the +dreadful night had filled her mind with his one desire: to dare the +very gods that the red gold might be uncovered again, and purchase +freedom for the Indians on the exile road to the coast. + +So low were her words that even Cap Pike, a rod away, only heard the +voice, but not the subject. It was further evident that she meant but +the one man to hear. Pike had white hair and to her mind was, like her +father, to be protected from responsibilities, but Rhodes loomed +strong and kind, and braced by youth for any task. + +Rhodes looked at her pityingly, and patted her head. + +"I reckon we're all a little loco, kid," he observed. "You're so +paralyzed with the hell you saw, and his ravings that you think his +dope of the gold is all gospel, but it's only a dream, sister,--a sick +man's fancy, though you sure had me going for a minute, plum +hypnotized by the picture." + +"It is to hide always," she said. "No man must know. No other eyes +must see, only you!" + +"Sure," he agreed. + +"You promising all?" + +"Sure again! Just to comfort you I promise that when I find the gold +of El Alisal I will use it to help get your people." + +"Half," she decided. "Half to you." + +"Half it is! You're a great little planner for your size, kid. Too bad +it's only a dream." + +Cap Pike rose to his feet, and gave a hand to Miguel, who reeled, and +then steadied himself gradually. + +"Most thanks, senor," he whispered, "and when we reach the water----" + +They helped him into the saddle, and Rhodes walked beside, holding him +as he swayed. + +They passed the new-made grave in the sand, and Rhodes turned to the +girl. "Sister," he said, "lift two stones and add to that pile there, +one for you and one for your father. Also look around and remember +this place." + +"I am no forgetting it," she said as she lifted a stone and placed it +as he told her. "It is here the exile trail. I mark the place where +you take for me the Americano road, and not the south road of the +lost. So it is,--these stone make witness." + +"I'll be shot if I don't believe you _are_ old Cajames stock," said +Cap Pike staring at her, and then meeting the gaze of Rhodes in wonder +at her clear-cut summing up of the situation. "But he was a handful +for the government in his day, Bub, and I'm hornswaggled if I'd pick +out his breed for a kindergarten." + +The girl heard and understood at least the jocular tenor of his +meaning, but no glance in his direction indicated it. She placed the +second stone, and then in obedience to Rhodes she looked back the way +she had come where the desert growth crisped in the waves of heat. On +one side lay the low, cactus-dotted hillocks, and on the other the +sage green and dull yellow faded into the blue mists of the eastern +range. + +"I am no forgetting it, this place ever," she said and then lifted her +water bottle and trudged on beside Rhodes. "It is where my trail +begins, with you." + +Cape Pike grinned at the joke on the boy, for it looked as if the +Yaqui girl were adopting _him_! + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +A MEETING AT YAQUI WELL + + +Good luck was with them, for the water hole in Yaqui canon had not +been either muddied or exhausted, evidence that the raiders had not +ranged that way. The sorry looking quartette fairly staggered into the +little canon, and the animals were frantic with desire to drink their +fill. + +"I was so near fried that the first gallon fairly sizzled down my +gullet," confessed Cap Pike after a long glorious hour of rest under +the alamos with saturated handkerchief over his burning eyes. "That +last three mile stretch was hell's back yard for me. How you reckon +the little trick over there ever stood it?" + +The Indian girl was resting near her father, and every little while +putting water on his face and hands. When she heard the voice of Pike +she sat up, and then started quietly to pick up dry yucca stalks and +bits of brushwood for a fire. + +"Look at that, would you, Bub," commented Pike, "the minute she sees +you commence to open the cook kit she is rustling for firewood. That +little devil is made of whalebone for toughness. Why, even the burros +are played out, but she is fresh as a daisy after a half hour's +rest!" + +Rhodes noted that the excitement by which she had been swayed to +confidence in the morning had apparently burned out on the trail, for +she spoke no more, only served silently as generations of her mothers +of the desert had done, and waited, crouched back of her father, while +the men ate the slender meal of _carne seco_, _atole_, and coffee. + +Cap Pike suggested that she join them, but it was her adopted guardian +who protested. + +"We won't change their ways of women," he decided. "I notice that when +white folks try to they are seldom understood. How do we know whether +that attitude is an humble effacement, or whether the rank of that +martyred ancester exalts her too greatly to allow equality with white +stragglers of the range?" + +Cap Pike snorted disdain. + +"You'll be making a Pocahontas of her if you keep on that 'noble +Injun' strain," he remarked. + +"Far be it from me! Pocahontas was a gay little hanger-on of the +camps,--not like this silent owl! Her mind seems older than her years, +and just notice her care of him, will you? I reckon he'd have wandered +away and died but for her grip on him through the night." + +Miguel sank into sleep almost at once after eating, and the girl waved +over him an alamo branch as a fan with one hand, and ate with the +other, while Rhodes looked over the scant commissary outfit, reckoning +mouths to feed and distance to supplies. The moon was at full, and +night travel would save the stock considerably. By the following noon +they could reach ranches either west or north. He was conscious of the +eyes of the girl ever on his face in mute question, and while Pike +bathed the backs of the animals, and led each to stand in the oozy +drainage of the meager well, she came close to Kit and spoke. + +"You say it is a dream, senor, and you laugh, but the red gold of El +Alisal is no dream. He, my father has said it, and after that, I, +Tula, may show it to you. Even my mother does not know, but I know. I +am of the blood to know. You will take him there, for it is a medicine +place, much medicine! He has said it to you, senor, and that gift is +great. You will come, alone,--with us, senor?" + +Kit smiled at her entreaty, patted her hair, and dug out a worn deck +of cards and shuffled them, slowly regarding the sleeping Indian the +while. + +"What's on your mind?" demanded Cap Pike, returning with his white +locks dripping from a skimpy bath. "Our grub stake is about gone, and +you've doubled the outfit. What's the next move?" + +"I'm playing a game in futures with Miguel," stated Kit, shuffling the +cards industriously. + +"Sounds loco to me, Bub," observed the veteran. "Present indications +are not encouraging as to futures there. Can't you see that he's got a +jar from which his mind isn't likely to recover? Not crazy, you know, +not a lunatic or dangerous, but just jarred from Pima man back to +Yaqui child. That's about the way I reckon it." + +"You reckon right, and it's the Yaqui child mind I'm throwing the +cards for. Best two out of three wins." + +"What the----" + +"Highest cards for K. Rhodes, and I hike across the border with our +outfit; highest cards for Miguel and my trail is blazed for the red +gold of Alisal. This is Miguel's hand--ace high for Miguel!" + +Again he shuffled and cut. + +"A saucy queen, and red at that! Oh, you charmer!" + +"You got to hustle to beat that, Bub. Go on, don't be stingy." + +Rhodes cut the third time, then stared and whistled. + +"The cards are stacked by the Indian! All three covered with war +paint. What's the use in a poor stray white bucking against that?" + +He picked out the cards and placed them side by side, ace, king and +queen of hearts. + +"Three aces could beat them," suggested Pike. "Go on Bub, shuffle them +up, don't be a piker." + +Rhodes did, and cut ten of clubs. + +"Not even the right color," he lamented. "Nothing less than two aces +for salvation, and I--don't--get--them!" + +A lonely deuce fell on the sand, and Rhodes eyed it sulkily as he +rolled a cigarette. + +"You poor little runt," he apostrophized the harmless two-spot. +"You've kicked me out of the frying pan into the fire, and a good +likely blaze at that!" + +"Don't reckon I care to go any deeper into trouble than what we've +found," decided Pike. "Ordinary Indian scraps are all in the day's +work--same with a Mexican outfit--but, Bub, this slave-hunting graft +game with the state soldiery doing the raiding is too strong a combine +for two lone rangers to buck against. Me for the old U. S. border, and +get some of this devilish word to the peace advocates at home." + +"They wouldn't believe you, and only about two papers along the border +would dare print it," observed Rhodes. "Every time a band of sunny +Mexicans loot a ranch or steal women, the word goes north that again +the bloodthirsty Yaquis are on the warpath! Those poor devils never +leave their fields of their own will, and don't know why the Americans +have a holy dread of them. Yet the Yaqui is the best worker south of +the line." + +"If he wasn't the price wouldn't be worth the slave trader's valuable +time," commented Pike. + +The Indian girl made a quick gesture of warning, just a sweep outward +of her hand along the ground. She didn't even look at them, but down +the arroya, the trail they had come. + +"_Caballos, hombres!_" she muttered in her throat. + +"The kid's right,--hear them!" said Rhodes, and then he looked at him, +and made a strange movement of eyes and head to direct the attention +back of her in the thicket of cactus and squat greasewood. He did not +look at once, but finally with a circular sweep of the locality, he +saw the light glint on a gun barrel along the edge of a little mesa +above them. + +"Nice friendly attention," he observed. "Someone sizing us up. Time to +hit the trail anyway, Cap;--to get through on the grub we have to +travel tonight." + +He rose and handed the water bottles to the girl to fill, while he +tightened cinches. + +"It's a long day's trip, Cap," he stated thoughtfully, "a long day out +to Carrizal, and a long one back to Mesa Blanca. I'll divide the dust +and the grub fifty-fifty, and you get out to some base of supplies. +I'd rather you'd take Pardner, and keep on going across the line. The +trail is clear from here for you, and enough water holes and +settlements for you to get through. I don't think Pardner would last +for the back trip, but you can save him by riding at night; the burro +and mule are best for us. Here's the dust." + +While Pike had been talking of crossing the border, Kit had been +rapidly readjusting the provision so that the old chap had enough to +carry him to the first settlement, and the gold dust would more than +pay for provision the rest of the way. + +"Why--say, Bub!" remonstrated Pike. "You're so sudden! I don't allow +to leave you by your lonesomes like this. Why, I had planned----" + +"There's nothing else to do," decided Rhodes crisply. "If you don't +beat it with Pardner, we'll lose him, sure! I'm going to take these +Indians back, and you can help most by waiting north of the line till +you hear from me. I'll get word to you at Granados. So, if there +should be any trouble with these visitors of ours, your trail is +clear;--savvy?" + +Two men rode into view in the bend of the arroya. A cartridge belt +across each shoulder, and one around each waist, was the most +important part of their equipment. + +"_Buenos dias_, senors," said one politely, while his little black +eyes roved quickly over the group. "Is there still water to be found +in the well here? _Dios!_ it is the heat of hell down there in the +valley." + +"At your service, senor, is water fresh drawn," said Rhodes, and +turned to the girl, "Oija, Tulita!--water for the gentlemen. You ride +far, senor?" + +"From Soledad wells." + +"Yes, I know the brand," remarked Rhodes. + +"This is a good season in which to avoid too much knowledge, or too +good a memory, senor," observed the man who had not spoken. "Many +herds will change hands without markets before tranquility is over in +Mexico." + +"I believe you, senor, and we who have nothing will be the lucky +ones," agreed Rhodes, regarding the man with a new interest. He was +not handsome, but there was a something quick and untamed in his keen, +black eyes, and though the mouth had cruel hard lines, his tone was +certainly friendly, yet dominating. + +"What have you here?" he asked with a gesture toward Miguel. + +"My Indian who tried to save his women from slavers, and was left for +dead," stated Rhodes frankly. + +"And this?" + +He pointed to the girl filling again the water bottles. + +"She is mine, senor. We go to our own homes." + +"Hum! you should be enlisted in the fights and become capitan, but +these would drop by the trail if you left them. Well, another time +perhaps, senor! For the water many thanks. _Adios!_" and with wave of +the hand they clattered down the arroya. + +"Queer," muttered Rhodes, "did you catch that second chap signal to +the gun man in the cactus? He craw-fished back over the mesa and faded +away." + +"They didn't come for water alone--some scouten' party trailin' every +sign found," decided Pike. "I'll bet they had us circled before the +two showed themselves. Wonder who they are after?" + +"Anyway they didn't think us worth while gathering in, which is a +comfort. That second fellow looks like someone I've crossed trails +with, but I can't place him." + +"They'll place you all right, all right!" prophesied Pike darkly, "you +and your interesting family won't need a brand." + +Rhodes stared at him a moment and then grinned. + +"Right you are, Cap. Wouldn't it be pie for the gossips to slice up +for home consumption?" + +He kept on grinning as he looked at the poor bit of human flotsam whom +he had dubbed "the owl" because of her silence and her eyes. She +aroused Miguel without words, watching him keenly for faintest sign of +recovery. The food and sleep had refreshed him in body, but the mind +was far away. To the girl he gave no notice, and after a long +bewildered stare at Rhodes he smiled in a deprecating way. + +"Your pardon, Don Jose, that I outsleep the camp," he muttered +haltingly. "It is a much sickness of the head to me." + +"For that reason must you ride slowly today," stated Rhodes with quick +comprehension of the groping mind, though the "Don Jose" puzzled him, +and at first chance he loitered behind with the girl and questioned +her. + +"How makes itself that I must know all the people in the world before +I was here on earth?" she asked morosely? "Me he does not know, Don +Jose is of Soledad and is of your tallness, so----" + +"Know you the man who came for water at the canon well?" he asked, and +she looked at him quickly and away. + +"The name of the man was not spoke by him, also he said a true word of +brands on herds--these days." + +"In these days?" reflected Rhodes, amazed at the ungirlish logic. "You +know what he meant when he said that?" + +"We try that we know--all we, for the Deliverer is he named, and by +that name only he is spoke in the prayers we make." + +Rhodes stared at her, incredulous, yet wondering if the dusty vaquero +looking rider of brief words could be the man who was called outlaw, +heathen, and bandit by Calendria, and "Deliverer" by these people of +bondage. + +"You think that is true;--he will be the deliverer?" + +"I not so much think, I am only remembering what the fathers say and +the mothers. Their word is that he will be the man, if--if----" + +"Well, if what?" he asked as she crossed herself, and dropped her +head. + +"I am not wanting to say that thing. It is a scare on the heart when +it is said." + +"I'd rather be prepared for the scare if it strikes me," he announced, +and after a thoughtful silence while she padded along beside him, she +lowered her voice as though to hide her words from the evil fates. + +"Then will I tell it you:--a knife in the back is what they fear for +him, or poison in his cup. He is hated by strong haters, also he makes +them know fear. I hearing all that in the patio at Palomitas, and old +Tio Polonio is often saying all saviors are crucified. How you +think?" + +Rhodes replied vaguely as to the wisdom of Tio Polonio, for the girl +was giving him the point of view of the peon, longing for freedom, yet +fatalistic as the desert born ever are. And she had known the rebel +leader, Ramon Rotil, all the time! + +He had no doubt but that she was right. Her statement explained the +familiar appearance of the man he had not met before, though he had +seen pictures in newspapers or magazines. Then he fell to wondering +what Ramon Rotil was doing in a territory so far from the troops, +and---- + +"Don Jose is one of the strong men who are hating him much," confided +the child. "Also Don Jose comes not north alone ever anymore, always +the soldiers are his guard. Tio Polonio tells things of these +soldiers." + +"What kind of things?" + +"They are killing boys like rabbits in Canannea,--pacifico boys who +could grow to Calendrista soldiers. Such is done by the guard of Don +Jose and all the friends of the Deliverer are killed with a quickness. +That is how the men of Don Jose Perez please him most, and in the +south there are great generals who work also with him, and his hand is +made strong, also heavy, and that is what Tio Polonio is telling us +often." + +When they reached the mouth of the little canon of the Yaqui well +where the trails divide, Pike shook hands and climbed into the saddle +of Pardner. + +"It's the first time I ever took the easy way out, and left the fight +alone to a chum,--but I'll do it, Bub, because you could not make a +quick get-away with me tagging along. Things look murkier in this +territory every minute. You'll either have the time of your life, or +a headstone early in the game. Billie and I will put it up though we +won't know where you're planted. I don't like it, but the minutes and +water for the trail are both precious. Come out quick as you can. So +long!" + +Pardner, refreshed by cooling drink and an hour's standing in wet mud +of the well drainage, stepped off briskly toward the north, while +Rhodes lifted Tula to the back of the pack mule, and Miguel unheeding +all plans or changes, drooped with closed eyes on the back of the +little burro. The manager of the reorganized gold-search syndicate +strode along in the blinding glare of the high sun, herding them ahead +of him, and as Pike turned for a last look backward at a bend of the +trail, the words of the old darkey chant came to him on the desert +air: + + _Oh, there was a frog lived in the spring!_ + + + + +CHAPTER X + +A MEXICAN EAGLET + + +The silver wheel of the moon was rolling into the west when the Indian +girl urged the mule forward, and caught the bridle of the burro. + +"What is it, Tula?" asked Rhodes, "we are doing well on the trail to +Mesa Blanca; why stop here?" + +"Look," she said. "See you anything? Know you this place in the +road?" + +He looked over the sand dunes and scrubby desert growths stretching +far and misty under the moon, and, then to the rugged gray range of +the mountain spur rising to the south. They were skirting the very +edge of it where it rose abruptly from the plain; a very great gray +upthrust of granite wall beside them was like a gray blade slanted out +of the plain. He had noticed it as one of the landmarks on the road to +Mesa Blanca, and on its face were a few curious scratchings or +peckings, one a rude sun symbol, and others of stars and waves of +water. He recalled remarking to Pike that it must have been a prayer +place for some of the old tribes. + +"Yes, I know the place, when we reach this big rock it means that we +are nearing the border of the ranch, this rock wall tells me that. We +can be at Palomitas before noon." + +"No," she said, and got down from the mule, "not to Palomitas now. +Here we carry the food, and here we hide the saddles, and the mule go +free. The burro we take, nothing else." + +"Where is a place to hide saddles here?" and he made gesture toward +the great granite plane glistening in the moonlight. + +"A place is found," she returned, "it is better we ride off the trail +at this place." + +She did so, circling back the way they had come until they were +opposite a more broken part of the mountain side, then she began +deftly to help unsaddle. + +"Break no brush and make all tracks like an Apache on the trail," she +said. + +Miguel sat silent on the burro as if asleep. He had never once roused +to give heed to the words or the trail through the long ride. At times +where the way was rough he would mutter thanks at the help of Kit and +sink again into stupor. + +"I can't spare that mule," protested Kit, but she nodded her head as +if that had been all thought out. + +"He will maybe not go far, there is grass and a very little spring +below. Come now, I show you that hidden trail." + +She picked up one of the packs and led the burro. + +"But we can't pack all this at once," decided Kit, who was beginning +to feel like the working partner in a nightmare. + +"Two times," said Tula, holding up her fingers, "I show you." + +She led the way, nervous, silent and in haste, as though in fear of +unseen enemies. Rhodes looked after her irritably. He was fagged and +worn out by one of the hardest trails he had ever covered, and was in +no condition to solve the curious problems of the Indian mind, but the +girl had proven a good soldier of the desert, and was, for the first +time, betraying anxiety, so as the burro disappeared in the blue mist, +and only the faint patter of his hoofs told the way he had gone, Kit +picked up the saddle and followed. + +The way was rough and there was no trail, simply stumbling between +great jagged slabs hewn and tossed recklessly by some convulsion of +nature. Occasionally dwarfed and stunted brush, odorous with the faint +dew of night, reached out and touched his face as he followed up and +up with ever the forbidding lances of granite sharp edged against the +sky. From the plain below there was not even an indication that +progress would be possible for any human being over the range of +shattered rock, and he was surprised to turn a corner and find Tula +helping Miguel from the saddle in a little nook where scant herbage +grew. + +"No, not in this place we camp," she said. "It is good only to hide +saddles and rest for my father. Dawn is on the trail, and the other +packs must come." + +He would have remonstrated about a return trip, but she held up her +hand. + +"It must be, if you would live," she said. "The eyes of you have not +yet seen what they are to see, it is not to be told. All hiding must +be with care, or----" + +She made swift pantomime of sighting along a gun barrel at him, and +even in the shadows he could fancy the deadly half closing of her +ungirlish eyes. Tula did not play gaily. + +Tired as he was, Kit grinned. + +"You win," he said. "Let's hit what would be the breeze if this fried +land could stir one up." + +They plodded back without further converse, secured the packs, and +this time it was Rhodes who led, as there appeared no possible way but +the one they had covered. Only once did he make a wrong turn and a +sharp "s-st" from the girl warned him of the mistake. + +They found Miguel asleep, and Kit Rhodes would willingly have sunk +down beside him and achingly striven for the same forgetfulness, but +Tula relentlessly shook Miguel awake, got him on the burro, unerringly +designated the food bag in the dark, and started again in the lead. + +"I reckon you're some sort of Indian devil," decided Kit, shouldering +the bag. "No mere mortal ever made this trail or kept it open." + +Several times the towering walls suggested the bottom of a well, and +as another and another loomed up ahead, he gloomily prophesied an +ultimate wall, and the need of wings. + +Then, just as the first faint light began in the eastern heavens, he +was aware that the uneven trail was going down and down, zig-zagging +into a ravine like a great gray bowl, and the bottom of it filled with +shadows of night. + +The girl was staggering now with exhaustion though she would not +confess it. Once she fell, and he lifted her thinking she was hurt, +but she clung to him, shaking from weakness, but whispering, "_Pronto, +pronto!_" + +"Sure!" he agreed, "all the swiftness the outfit can muster." + +Curious odors came to him from the shadowy bowl, not exactly a +pleasing fragrance, yet he knew it--But his mind refused to work. As +the trail grew wider, and earth was under his feet instead of rock +slivers and round boulders, he discovered that he was leading the +burro, the grub sack over his shoulder, and with the other arm was +supporting the girl, who was evidently walking with closed eyes, able +to progress but not to guide herself. + +Then there was the swish-swish of grasses about their feet and poor +Bunting snatched mouthfuls as all three staggered downward. The light +began to grow, and somewhere in the shadowy bowl there was the most +blest sound known in the desert, the gurgle of running water! + +"We hear it--but we can't believe it--old Buntin'," muttered Kit +holding the burro from steady and stubborn attempts to break away, +"and you are just loco enough to think you smell it." + +Then suddenly their feet struck rock again, not jagged or slippery +fragments, but solid paving, and a whiff of faint mist drifted across +his face in the gray of the first dawn, and the burro craned his neck +forward at the very edge of a black rock basin where warm vapor struck +the nostrils like a soporific. + +The girl roused herself at a wordless exclamation from Rhodes, and +began automatically helping Miguel from the saddle, and stripping him +to the breechcloth. + +Kit's amazement startled him out of his lethargy of exhaustion. It was +light enough now to see that her eyes were bloodshot, and her +movements quick with a final desperation. + +"There!" she said and motioned towards a shelving place in the rock, +"there--medicine--all quick!" + +She half lifted the staggering, unconscious Indian, and Kit, +perceiving her intention, helped her with Miguel to the shallow edge +of the basin where she rolled him over until he was submerged to the +shoulder in the shallow bath, cupping her hands she scooped water and +drenched his face. + +"Why,--it's warm!" muttered Kit. + +"Medicine," said Tula, and staggered away. + +How Rhodes shed his own garments and slipped into the basin beside +Miguel he never knew, only he knew he had found an early substitute +for heaven. It was warm sulphur water,--tonic, refreshing and +infinitely soothing to every sore muscle and every frazzled nerve. He +ducked his head in it, tossed some more over the head and shoulders of +the sleeping Indian, and then, submerged to his arms, he promptly +drifted into slumber himself. + +He wakened to the sound of Baby Bunting pawing around the grub pack. +Hunger was his next conviction, for the heavenly rest in the medicine +bath had taken every vestige of weariness away. He felt lethargic from +the sulphur fumes, and more sleep was an enticing thought, yet he put +it from him and got into his clothes after the use of a handkerchief +as a bath towel. Miguel still slept and Kit bent over him in some +concern, for the sleep appeared curiously deep and still, the breath +coming lightly, yet he did not waken when lifted out of the water and +covered with a poncho in the shade of a great yucca. + +"I reckon it's some dope in these hot springs," decided Kit. "I feel +top heavy myself, and won't trouble him till I've rustled some grub +and have something to offer. Well, Buntin', we are all here but the +daughter of the Glen," he said, rescuing the grub sack, "and if she +was a dream and you inveigled me here by your own diabolical powers, +I've a hunch this is our graveyard; we'll never see the world and its +vanities again!" + +A bit of the blue and scarlet on a bush above caught his eye. It was +the belt of Tula, and he went upwards vaguely disturbed that he had +drifted into ease without question of her welfare. + +He found her emerging from a smaller rock basin, her one garment +dripping a wet trail as she came towards him. There was no smile in +her greeting, but a look of content, of achievement. + +"My father," she said, "he is----" + +"Sleeping beyond belief! good medicine sleep, I hope." + +She nodded her head comprehendingly, for she had done the impossible +and had triumphed. She looked at the sack of food he held. + +"There is one place for fire, and other water is there. Come, it is to +you." + +She struck off across the sun-bathed little grass plot to a jumble of +rock where a cool spring emerged, ran only a few rods, and sank again +out of sight. The shattered rock was as a sponge, so completely was +the water sucked downward again. Marks of burro's hoofs were there. + +"Baby Buntin' been prospecting while we wallowed in the dope bath," +said Kit. + +"Maybe so, maybe not," uttered the Indian child, if such she could be +called after the super-woman initiative of that forbidding trail. She +was down on her knees peering at the tracks in the one little wet spot +below the spring. + +"Two," she said enigmatically. "That is good, much good. It will be +meat." + +Then she saw him pulling dry grasses and breaking branches of scrub +growth for a fire, and she stood up and motioned him to follow. They +were in a narrow, deep ravine separated from the main one by the +miniature plain of lush grass, a green cradle of rest in the heart of +the gray hills. She went as directly upward as the broken rock would +permit, and suddenly he followed her into a blackened cave formed by a +great granite slab thrusting itself upwards and enduring through the +ages when the broken rock had shattered down to form an opposite wall. +And the cloud bursts of the desert had swept through, and washed the +sands clear, leaving a high black roof slanting upwards to the +summit. + +Tula moved ahead into the far shadows. He could see that beyond her +somewhere a ray of light filtered blue, but he halted at the entrance, +puzzled at the black roof where all the rock of the mountain was gray +and white except where mineral streaks were of reds and russets and +moldy greens. Then he put his hand up and touched the roof and +understood. Soot from ancient fires was discernible on his hand, +flakes of it fell to the floor, dry and black, scaling off under +pressure. The scales were thick and very old, like blackened moss. He +had seen blackened rock like that in other volcanic regions, but this +was different. + +"It is here," said Tula, and he followed the voice through a darker +shadowed bit of the way, then through the ray of light, and then---- + +The first thing he saw was the raised hearth of a rather pretentious +fireplace, or place of fire, for it resembled not at all the tiny +little cooking hearth of desert Indians. A stone hatchet lay beside +it, and, what was much more surprising, two iron instruments of white +man's manufacturing, a wedge and a long chisel. + +He picked up the chisel, weighed it in his hand, and looked at the +girl. He was now becoming accustomed to the dim light and could see +her eyes following his every movement with curious questioning. There +was a tiny frowning wrinkle between her brows as if serious matters +were being decided there. + +"It is here," she said again. "Maybe someone dies when a white friend +is shown the way--maybe I die, who knows?--but it is here--El Alisal +of the gold of the rose!" + +She made a little gesture and moved aside, and the chisel fell to the +stone floor with a clang as Kit shouted and dropped on his knees +before an incredible thing in the gray wall. + +That upthrust of the rock wall had strange variety of color, and +between the granite and the gray limestone there was a ragged rusty +band of iron as a note of contrast to the sprinkling of glittering +quartz catching the ray of light, but the quartz was sprinkled on a +six inch band of yellow--not the usual quartz formation with dots of +color, but a deep definite yellow held together by white crystals. + +"The red gold! it's the red gold!" he said feeling the yellow surface +instinctively. + +"Yes, senor, it is the red gold of El Alisal, and it is to you," but +her eyes were watching him hungrily as she spoke. And something of +that pathetic fear penetrated his amazed mind, and he remembered. + +"No, Tula, only my share to me. I do the work, but the great share is +to you, that it may buy back your mother from the slavers of the +south." + +"Also my sister," said the girl, and for the first time she wept. + +"Come, come! This is the time for joy. The danger is gone, and we are +at rest beside this--why, it's a dream come true, the golden dream! +Come, help me cook that we may be strong for the work." + +She helped silently, fetching water and more sticks for the fire. + +There were many things to ask, but he asked no questions, only gazed +between bites and sups at the amazing facts facing him. + +"I've seen ores and ores in my time, but nothing like this!" he +exulted. "Why, I can 'high grade' mule loads of this and take it out +without smelting," and then he grinned at his little partner. "We just +struck it in time,--meat is mighty near done." + +"Plenty meat!" she said nodding her head wisely. "Burro, big burro, +wild burro! I see track." + +"Wild burro? Sure, that makes it simple till we rest up. You are one +great little commissary sergeant." + +He noted that the pitch of the roof towards the face of the mountain +carried the smoke in a sort of funnel to be sifted through high +unseen crannies of shattered rock above. All was dark in the end of +the gallery, but a perceptible draught from the portal bore the smoke +upward. + +"It's too good to be true," he decided, looking it over. "I'm chewing +bacon and it tastes natural, but I'm betting with myself that this is +a dream, and I'll wake up in the dope pond with my mouth full of +sulphur water." + +The girl watched him gravely, and ate sparingly, though parched corn +had been her only sustenance through the trail of the dreadful night. +Her poor sandals were almost cut from her feet, and even while jesting +at the unreality of it all, Kit was making mental note of her +needs--the wild burro would at least provide green hide sandals for +her until better could be found, and she had earned the best. + +He was amazed at her keenness. She did not seem to think, but +instinctively to feel her way to required knowledge, caring for +herself in the desert as a fledgling bird tossed by some storm from +the home nest. He remembered there were wild burros in the Sonora +hills, but that she should have already located one on this most +barren of mountains was but another unbelievable touch to the trail of +enchantment, and after a century of lost lives and treasure in the +search for the Indian mine, to think that this Indian stray, picked up +on a desolate trail, should have been the one to know that secret and +lead him to it! + +"Other times you have been here?" he asked as he poured coffee in a +tin for Miguel, and dug out the last box of crackers from the grub +pack. + +"Once I come, one time, and it was to make prayer here. It is mine to +know, but not my mother, not other peoples, only the father of me and +me. If I die then he show the trail to other one, not if I live. That +is how." + +"He surely picked the right member of his honorable family," decided +Kit. "Only once over the trail, once?" + +"I knowing it long before I see it," she explained gravely. "The +father of me make that trail in the sand for my eyes when I am only +little. I make the same for him in a game to play. When I make every +turn right, and name the place, and never forget--then he bring me, +for it is mine to know." + +"Sufferin' cats!" muttered Rhodes, eyeing her in wonder. "The next +time I see an Indian kid playing in the sand, I'll linger on the trail +and absorb wisdom!" + +"Come," she said, "you not seeing the one enchant look, the--how you +say?--the not believe look." + +"Well, take it from me, Cinderella, I'm seeing not believe things this +very now," announced Kit, giving a fond look towards that comforting +gleam of yellow metal bedding flecks of quartz. "I see it, but will +have to sleep, and wake up to find it in the same place before I can +believe what I think I see." + +With the food and drink for Miguel in his hands he had followed the +girl through the shadowed gallery of the slanting smoke-stained roof. +His eyes were mainly directed to the rock floor lest he stumble and +spill the precious coffee; thus he gave slight thought to the little +ravine up which she had led him to the cave which was also a mine. + +But as he stepped out into the sunlight she stood looking up into his +face with almost a smile, the first he had seen in her wistful tragic +eyes. Then she lifted her hand and pointed straight out, and the +"enchant look," the "not believe" look was there! He stared as at a +mirage for an incredulous moment, and then whispered, "Great God of +the Desert!" + +For a little space, a few rods only, the mountain dipped steeply, and +trickling water from above fell in little cascades to lower levels, +where a great jagged wall of impregnable granite arose as a barrier +along the foot of the mountain. + +But he was above the sharp outline of the huge saw with the jagged +granite teeth, and between the serrated edges he could look far across +the yellow-gray reaches of sand and desert growths. Far and wide was +the "not believe" look, to the blue phantom-like peaks on the horizon, +but between the two ranges was a white line with curious dots drifting +and whirling like flies along it, and smoke curling up, and---- + +Then it was he uttered the incredulous cry, for he was indeed viewing +the thing scarce to be believed. + +He was looking across the great Rancho Soledad, and the white line +against the sand was the wall of the old mission where the vaqueros +were herding a band of horses into the great quadrangle of the +one-time patio turned into a corral since the buildings on three sides +had melted down again into mother earth. + +He remembered riding around these lines of the old arches seeking +trace of that door of the legend,--the door from which the aliso tree +of the mine could be seen,--and there was nowhere a trace of a door. + +"Queer that every other part of the prospect developed according +to specifications and not the door," he grumbled whimsically. +"Cinderella, why have you hid the door in the wall from me?" + +She looked around uncertainly, not understanding. + +"No portal but it," she said with a movement of her head towards the +great slab forming a pointed arch against the mountain and shielding +the unbelievable richness there, "also El Alisal, the great tree, is +gone. This was the place of it; the old ones tell my father it was as +chief of the trees and stand high to be seen. The sky fire took it, +and took the padres that time they make an altar in this place." + +"Um," assented Kit, noting traces of ancient charcoal where the aliso +tree had grown great in the moisture of the spring before lightning +had decided its tragic finish, "a great storm it must have been to +send sky fire enough to kill them all." + +"Yes," said Tula quietly,--"also there was already another shrine at +this place, and the gods near." + +He glanced at her quickly and away. + +"Sure," he agreed, "sure, that's how it must have been. They destroyed +the aliso and there was no other landmark to steer by. White men might +find a thousand other dimples in the range but never this one, the +saw-tooth range below us has the best of them buffaloed. Come along, +Senorita Aladdin, and help me with the guardian of the treasure. We've +got to look after Miguel, and then start in where the padres left off. +And you might do a prayer stunt or two at the shrine you mentioned. We +need all the good medicine help you can evoke." + +As they approached the pool where the faintest mist drifted above the +water warm from hidden fires of the mountain, Kit halted before he +quite reached the still form beside the yucca, and, handing the food +and drink to the girl, he went forward alone. + +He was puzzled afterward as to why he had done that, for no fold of +the garment was disturbed, nothing visible to occasion doubt, yet he +bent over and lifted the cover very gently. The face of Miguel was +strangely gray and there was no longer sign of breath. The medicine of +the sacred pool had given him rest, but not life. + +He replaced the blanket and turned to the girl;--the last of the +guardians of the shrine of the red gold. + +"Little sister," he said, "Miguel grew tired of the trails of a hard +land. He has made his choice to go asleep here in the place where you +tell me the gods are near. He does not want us to have sad hearts, for +he was very sad and very tired, and he will not need food, Tula." + +Her eyes filled with tears, but she made no reply, only unbound her +hair as she had seen mourning women do, and seated herself apart, her +face hidden in her arms. + +"No one is left to mourn but me, and I mourn!" she half chanted. "I +say it for the mother of me, and for my sister, that the ghosts may +listen. Happily he is going now from hard trails! He has chosen at +this place! Happily he has chosen, and only we are sad. No debt is +ours to pay at this place; he has chosen--and a life is paid at El +Alisal! Happily he will find the trail of the birds from this place, +and the trail of the clouds over the high mountain. No one is left to +mourn but me; and I mourn!" + +Rhodes understood no word of her lamentations, chanted now loudly, now +lowly, at intervals hour after hour that day. He set grimly to work +digging a grave in the lower part of the ravine, gathering dry grass +for lining as best he could to make clear to the girl that no lack of +care or honor was shown the last man of Cajame's stock. + +The work took most of the day, for he carried stone and built a wall +around the grave and covered it with slatelike slabs gathered from a +shattered upheaval of long ago. + +Tula watched all this gravely, and with approval, for she drew with +her finger the mark of the sun symbol on one of the slabs. + +"It is well to make that mark," she said, "for the sons of Cajame were +priests of the sun. The sign is on the great rock of the trail, and it +is theirs." + +With the chisel he carved the symbol as she suggested, glad to do +anything for the one mourner for the dead man who had offered the +treasure of the desert to him. + +"That is how he made choice," she said when it was marked plainly. +"Me, I think he was leading us on the night trail to this place--I +think so. He is here to guard the gold of El Alisal for you. That is +how it will be. He has made choice." + +Kit got away by himself to think over the unexpected situation. The +girl climbed to a higher point, seated herself, and continued her +chant of mourning. He knew she was following, as best she knew, the +traditional formalities of a woman for the death of a chief. He found +himself more affected by that brave fatalistic recital, now loud and +brave, now weirdly slow and tender, than if she had given way to +tempests of tears. A man could comfort and console a weeping stray of +the desert, but not a girl who sat with unbound hair under the yucca +and called messages to the ghosts until the sun,--a flaming ball of +fire,--sank beyond the far purple hills. + +And that was the first day of many days at the hidden treasure place +of the red gold. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +GLOOM OF BILLIE + + +The return of Captain Pike on Kit's horse was a matter of considerable +conjecture at Granados, but the old prospector was so fagged that at +first he said little, and after listening to the things Billie had to +tell him--he said less. + +"That explains the curious ways of the Mexicans as I reached the +border," he decided. "They'd look first at the horse, then at me, but +asked no questions, and told me nothing. Queer that no word reached us +about Singleton! No, it isn't either. We never crossed trails with any +from up here. There's so much devilment of various sorts going on down +there that a harmless chap like Singleton wouldn't be remembered." + +"Conrad's down at Magdalena now, but we seldom know how far he ranges. +Sometimes he stays at the lower ranch a week at a time, and he might +go on to Sinaloa for all we know. He seems always busy and is +extremely polite, but I gave him the adobe house across the arroya +after Papa Phil--went. I know he has the Mexicans thinking Kit Rhodes +came back for that murder; half of them believe it!" + +"Well, I reckon I can prove him an alibi if it's needed. I'll go see +the old judge." + +"He'll tell you not to travel at night, or alone, if you know +anything," she prophesied. "That's what he tells me. To think of old +Rancho Granados coming to that pass! We never did have trouble here +except a little when Apaches went on the warpath before my time, and +now the whole border is simmering and ready to boil over if anyone +struck a match to it. The judge hints that Conrad is probably only one +cog in the big border wheel, and they are after the engineer who turns +that wheel, and do you know you haven't told me one word of Kit +Rhodes, or whether he's alive or dead!" + +"Nothing to tell! We didn't find it, and he took the back trail with +an Indian girl and her daddy, and----" + +"An--Indian girl?" + +"Yes, a queer little kid who was in a lot of trouble. Her father was +wounded in one of the fracases they have down there every little +while. Nary one of us could give an address when we took different +trails, for we didn't know how far we'd be allowed to travel--the +warring factions are swarming and troublesome over the line." + +"Well, if a girl could stand the trail, it doesn't look dangerous." + +"Looks are deceptive, child,--and this isn't just any old girl! It's a +rare bird, it's tougher than whalebone and possessed of a wise little +devil. She froze to Kit as a _compadre_ at first chance. He headed +back to Mesa Blanca. I reckon they'd make it,--barring accidents." + +"Mesa Blanca? That's the Whitely outfit?" + +"Um!" assented Pike, "but I reckon Whitely's hit the trail by now. +There's no real profit in raising stock for the warriors down there; +each band confiscates what he needs, and gives a promissory note on an +empty treasury." + +"Well, the attraction must be pretty strong to hold him down there in +spite of conditions," said Billie gloomily. + +"Attraction? Sure. Kit's gone loco on that attraction," agreed the old +prospector, and then with a reminiscent light in his tired old eyes he +added, "I reckon there's no other thing so likely to snare a man on a +desert trail. You see, Billie-child, it's just as if the great God had +hid a treasure in the beginning of the world to stay hid till the +right lad ambled along the trail, and lifted the cover, and when a +fellow has youth, and health and not a care in the world, the search +alone is a great game--And when he finds it!--why, Billie, the +dictionary hasn't words enough to tell the story!" + +"No--I--I reckon not," said his listener in a small voice, and when he +looked around to speak to her again she had disappeared, and across +the patio Dona Luz was coming towards him in no good humor. + +"How is it that poor little one weeps now when you are returned, and +not at other times?" she demanded. "Me, I have my troubles since that +day they find the Don Filipe shot dead,--_Jesusita_ give him rest! +That child is watching the Sonora trail and waiting since that day, +but no tears until you are come. I ask you how is the way of that?" + +Captain Pike stared at her reflectively. + +"You are a bringer of news, likewise a faithful warden," he observed. +"I'm peaceably disposed, and not wise to your lingo. Billie and me +were talking as man to man, free and confidential, and no argument. +There were no weeps that I noticed. What's the reason why?" + +"The saints alone know, and not me!" she returned miserably. "I think +she is scared that it was the Senor Rhodes who shooting Don Filipe, +the vaqueros thinking that! But she tells no one, and she is unhappy. +Also there is reason. That poor little one has the ranchos, but have +you hear how the debts are so high all the herds can never pay? That +is how they are saying now about Granados and La Partida, and at the +last our senorita will have no herds, and no ranchos, and no people +but me. _Madre de Dios!_ I try to think of her in a little adobe by +the river with only _frijoles_ in the dinner pot, and I no see it that +way. And I not seeing it other way. How you think?" + +"I don't, it's too new," confessed Pike. "Who says this?" + +"The Senor Henderson. I hear him talk with Senor Conrad, who has much +sorrow because the Don Filipe made bad contracts and losing the money +little and little, and then the counting comes, and it is big, very +big!" + +"Ah! the Senor Conrad has much sorrow, has he?" queried Pike, "and +Billie is getting her face to the wall and crying? That's queer. +Billie always unloaded her troubles on me, and you say there was none +of this weeping till I came back?" + +"That is so, senor." + +"Cause why?" + +"_Quien sabe?_ She was making a long letter to Senor Rhodes in +Sonora,--that I know. He sends no word, so--I leave it to you, senor, +it takes faith and more faith when a man is silent, and the word of a +killing is against him." + +"Great Godfrey, woman! He never got a letter, he knows nothing of a +killing. How in hell--" Then the captain checked himself as he saw the +uselessness of protesting to Dona Luz. "Where's Billie?" + +Billie was perched on a window seat in the _sala_, her eyes were more +than a trifle red, and she appeared deeply engrossed in the pages of a +week-old country paper. + +"I see here that Don Jose Perez of Hermosillo is to marry Dona Dolores +Terain, the daughter of the general," she observed impersonally. "He +owns Rancho Soledad, and promises the Sonora people he will drive the +rebel Rotil into the sea, and it was but yesterday Tia Luz was telling +me of his beautiful wife, Jocasta, who was only a little mountain girl +when he rode through her village and saw her first. She is still +alive, and it looks to me as if all men are alike!" + +"More or less," agreed Pike amicably, "some of us more, some of us +less. Dona Dolores probably spells politics, but Dona Jocasta is a +wildcat of the sierras, and I can't figure out any harmonious days for +a man who picks two like that." + +"He doesn't deserve harmony; no man does who isn't true--isn't true," +finished Billie rather lamely. + +"Look here, honey child," observed Pike, "you'll turn man hater if you +keep on working your imagination. Luz tells me you are cranky against +Kit, and that the ranches are tied up in business knots tighter than I +had any notion of, so you had better unload the worst you can think +of on me; that's what I'm here for. What difference do the Perez +favorites make to our young lives? Neither Dolores nor Jocasta will +help play the cards in our fortunes." + +Wherein Captain Pike was not of the prophets. The wells of Sonora are +not so many but that he who pitches his tent near one has a view and +greetings of all drifting things of the desert, and the shadowed star +of Dona Jocasta of the south was leading her into the Soledad +wilderness forsaken of all white men but one. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +COVERING THE TRAIL + + +Each minute of the long days, Rhodes worked steadily and gaily, +picking out the high grade ore from the old Indian mine, and every +possible night he and the burro and Tula made a trip out to the foot +of the range, where they buried their treasure against the happy day +when they could go out of the silent desert content for the time with +what gold they could carry in secret to the border. + +For two days he had watched the Soledad ranch house rather closely +through the field glass, for there was more activity there than +before; men in groups rode in who were not herding. He wondered if it +meant a military occupation, in which case he would need to be doubly +cautious when emerging from the hidden trail. + +The girl worked as he worked. Twice he had made new sandals for her, +and also for himself in order to save his boots so that they might at +least be wearable when he got among people. All plans had been thought +out and discussed until no words would be needed between them when +they separated. She was to appear alone at Palomitas with a tale of +escape from the slavers, and he was carefully crushing and mashing +enough color to partly fill a buckskin bag to show as the usual fruits +of a prospect trip from which he was returning to Mesa Blanca after +exhausting grub stake and shoe leather. + +The things of the world had stood still for him during that hidden +time of feverish work. He scarcely dared try to estimate the value of +the ore he had dug as honey from a hollow tree, but it was rich--rich! +There were nuggets of pure gold, assorted as to their various sizes, +while he milled and ground the quartz roughly, and cradled it in the +water of the brook. + +By the innocent aid of Baby Bunting, two wild burros of the sierra had +been enticed within reach for slaughter, and, aside from the food +values, they furnished green hide which under Kit's direction, Tula +deftly made into bags for carrying the gold. + +All activities during the day were carefully confined within a certain +radius, low enough in the little canon to run no risk in case any +inquisitive resident of Soledad should study the ranges with a field +glass, though Kit had not seen one aside from his own since he entered +Sonora. And he used his own very carefully every morning and evening +on the wide valley of Soledad. + +"Something doing down there, sister," he decided, as they were +preparing for the last trail out. "Riders who look like cavalry, +mules, and some wagons--mighty queer!" + +Tula came over and stood beside him expectantly. He had learned that a +look through the magic glasses was the most coveted gift the camp +could grant to her, and it had become part of the regular routine that +she stood waiting her turn for the wide look, the "enchant look," as +she had called it that first morning. It had become a game to try to +see more than he, and this time she mentioned as he had, the wagons, +and mules, and riders. And then she looked long and uttered a brief +Indian word of surprise. + +"Beat me again, have you?" queried Kit good humoredly. "What do you +find?" + +"A woman is there, in that wagon,--sick maybe. Also one man is a +padre; see you!" + +Kit took the glasses and saw she was right. A man who looked like a +priest was helping a woman from a wagon, she stumbled forward and then +was half carried by two men towards the house. + +"Not an Indian woman?" asked Kit, and again her unchildlike mind +worked quickly. + +"A padre does not bow his head to help Indian woman. Caballeros do not +lift them up." + +"Well I reckon Don Jose Perez is home on a visit, and brought his +family. A queer time! Other ranch folks are getting their women north +over the border for safety." + +"Don Jose not bring woman to Soledad--ever. He take them away. His men +take them away." + +It was the first reference she had made to the slavers since they had +entered the canon, though she knew that each pile of nuggets was part +of the redemption money for those exiles of whom she did not speak. + +But she worked tirelessly until Kit would stop her, or suggest some +restful task to vary the steady grind of carrying, pounding, or +washing the quartz. He had ordered her to make two belts, that each of +them might carry some of the gold hidden under their garments. She had +a nugget tied in a corner of her _manta_, and other small ones +fastened in her girdle, while in the belt next her body she carried +all he deemed safe to weight her with, probably five pounds. At any +hint of danger she would hide the belt and walk free. + +His own belt would carry ten pounds without undue bulkiness. And over +three hundred pounds of high grade gold was already safely hidden near +the great rock with the symbols of sun and rain marking its weathered +surface. + +"A fair hundred thousand, and the vein only scratched!" he exulted. "I +was sore over losing the job on Billie's ranch,--but gee! this looks +as if I was knocked out in the cold world to reach my good luck!" + +In a blue dusk of evening they left the camp behind and started over +the trail, after Tula had carefully left fragments of food on the tomb +of Miguel, placed there for the ghosts who are drawn to a comrade. + +Kit asked no questions concerning any of her tribal customs, since to +do so would emphasize the fact that they were peculiar and strange to +him, and the Indian mind, wistfully alert, would sense that +strangeness and lose its unconsciousness in the presence of an alien. +So, when she went, after meals, to offer dregs of the soup kettle or +bones of the burro, she often found a bunch of desert blossoms wilting +there in the heat, and these tributes left by Kit went far to +strengthen her confidence. It was as if Miguel was a live partner in +their activities, never forgotten by either. So they left him on +guard, and turned their faces toward the outer world of people. + +Knowing more than he dare tell the girl his mind was considerably +occupied with that woman at Soledad, for military control changed over +night in many a province of Mexico in revolutionary days, and the time +at the hidden mine might have served for many changes. + +Starlight and good luck was on the trail for them, and at earliest +streak of dawn they buried their treasure, divided their dried burro +meat, and with every precaution to hide the trail where they emerged +from the gray sierra, they struck the road to Mesa Blanca. + +Until full day came Tula rode the burro, and slipped off at a ravine +where she could walk hidden, on the way to Palomitas. + +"Buntin'," said Kit, watching her go, "we'll have pardners and +pardners in our time, but we'll never find one more of a thoroughbred +than that raggedy Indian witch-child of ours." + +He took the slanting cattle trail up over the mesa, avoiding the wagon +road below, and at the far edge of it halted to look down over the +wide spreading leagues of the Mesa Blanca ranch. + +It looked very sleepy, drowsing in the silence of the noon sun. An old +Indian limped slowly from the corral over to the ranch house, and a +child tumbled in the dust with a puppy, but there was no other sign of +ranch activity. As he descended the mesa and drew nearer the corrals +they had a deserted look, not merely empty but deserted. + +The puppy barked him a welcome, but the child gave one frightened look +at Kit, and with a howl of fear, raced to the shelter of the portal +where he disappeared in the shadows. + +"I had a hunch, Babe, that we needed smoothing down with a currycomb +before we made social calls," confessed Kit to the burro, "but I +didn't reckon on scaring the natives in any such fashion as this." + +He was conscious of peering eyes at a barred window, and then the old +Indian appeared. + +"Hello, Isidro!" + +"At your service, senor," mumbled the old man, and then he stared at +the burro, and at the bearded and rather desert-worn stranger, and +uttered a cry of glad recognition. + +"Ai-ji! It is El Pajarito coming again to Mesa Blanca, but coming with +dust in your mouth and no song! Enter, senor, and take your rest in +your own house. None are left to do you honor but me,--all gone like +that!" and his skinny black hands made a gesture as if wafting the +personnel of Mesa Blanca on its way. "The General Rotil has need the +cattle, and makes a divide with Senor Whitely and all go,--all the +herds," and he pointed east. + +Kit bathed his face in the cool water brought out by Valencia, +Isidro's wife, then unloaded the burro of the outfit, and stretched +himself in the shade while the women busied themselves preparing +food. + +"So General Rotil makes a divide of the cattle,--of Whitely's cattle? +How is that?" he asked. + +And the old Indian proceeded to tell him that it was true. The +Deliverer must feed his army. He needed half, and promised Whitely to +furnish a guard for the rest of the herd and help Whitely save them by +driving them to Imuris, where the railroad is. + +"He said enemy troops would come from the south and take them all in +one week or one month. He, Rotil, would pay a price. Thus it was, and +Senor Whitely, and enough vaqueros, rode with the herds, and General +Rotil took the rest of the ranchmen to be his soldiers. Of course it +might be Senor Whitely would some day return, who knows? And he left a +letter for the senor of the songs." + +The letter corroborated Isidro's statements--it was the only way to +save any of the stock. Whitely thought there was a hundred or two +still ranging in the far corners, but time was short, and he was +saving what he could. The men were joining the revolutionists and he +would be left without help anyway. If Rhodes came back he was to use +the place as his own. If he could round up any more horses or cattle +on the range and get them to safety Isidro would find some Indians to +help him, and Whitely would divide the profits with him. + +"Fine!--divides first with the Deliverer, and next with me! Can't see +where that hombre gets off when it comes to staking his own family to +a living. But it's a bargain, and this is my headquarters until I can +get out. How long has Whitely and his new friends been gone?" + +"Four days, senor." + +"Seen any stragglers of cattle left behind?" + +Isidro's grandson, Clodomiro, had found both horses and cattle and +herded them into far canons; a man might ride in a circle for five +miles around the ranch house and see never a fresh track. Clodomiro +was a good boy, and of much craft. + +Dinner was announced for the senor, and the women showed him welcome +by placing before him the most beautiful repast they could arrange +quickly, _chile con carne_, _frijoles_, _tortillas_, and a decanter of +Sonora wine--a feast for a king! + +After he had eaten, tobacco was brought him from some little hidden +store, and Isidro gave him the details of the slave raid of Palomitas, +and Sonora affairs in general. Kit was careful to state that he has +been prospecting in the mountains and out of touch with ranch people, +and it must be understood that all Isidro could tell would be news to +a miner from the desert mountains. And he asked if General Rotil also +collected stock from the ranch of Soledad. + +Whereupon Isidro told him many things, and among them the wonder that +Soledad had been left alone--the saints only knew why! And Juan +Gonsalvo, the foreman at Soledad, had helped with the slave raid, and +was known in Palomitas where they took girls and women and men as +well, even men not young! Miguel, the major-domo, was taken with his +wife and two daughters, the other men were young. The curse of God +seemed striking Sonora. A new foreman was now at Soledad, Marto +Cavayso, a hard man and,--it was said, a soldier, but he evidently got +tired of fighting and was taking his rest by managing the horse herds +of Soledad. + +"Doesn't look like rest to me," observed Kit. "The Soledad trail looks +pretty well kicked into holes, with wagons, mules, and horsemen." + +Isidro volunteered his opinion that work of the devil was going +forward over there. + +"Juan Gonsalvo and El Aleman were stealing women in Sonora, and +driving them the south trail for a price," he stated. "But what think +you would be the price for a woman of emerald eyes and white skin +carried up from the south under chains, and a lock to the chain?" + +"I reckon you are dreaming the lock and chain part of it, Isidro," +returned Kit. "Only murderers travel like that." + +"_Si_, it is so. There at Soledad it is heard. A killing was done in +the south and Soledad is her prison. But she is beautiful, and the men +are casting lots as to whose she shall be when the guard is gone south +again to Don Jose Perez." + +"Ah! they are Don Jose's men, are they? Then the prisoner is guarded +by his orders?" + +"Who knows? They tell that she is a lost soul, and fought for a knife +to kill herself, and the padre makes prayers and says hell will be +hers if she does. Elena, who is cook, heard him say that word, and +Elena was once wife to my brother, and she is telling that to +Clodomiro who makes an errand to take her deer meat, and hear of the +strangers. He saw the woman, her bracelets are gold, and her eyes are +green. The padre calls her Dona Jocasta. I go now and give drink to +that burro and make him happy." + +"Jocasta, eh? Dona Jocasta!" repeated Kit in wondering meditation. +"Doesn't seem possible--but reckon it is, and there are no real +surprises in Sonora. Anything could, and does happen here." + +He remembered Pike telling the story of Jocasta one morning by their +camp fire in the desert. She was called by courtesy Senora Perez. He +had not heard her father's name, but he was a Spanish priest and her +mother an Indian half-breed girl--some little village in the sierras. +There were two daughters, and the younger was blond as a child of Old +Spain, Jocasta was the elder and raven dark of hair, a skin of deep +cream, and jewel-green eyes. Kit had heard three men, including +Isidro, speak of Dona Jocasta, and each had mentioned the wonderful +green eyes--no one ever seemed to forget them! + +Their magnetism had caught the attention of Don Jose,--a distinguished +and illustrious person in the eyes of the barefoot mountaineers. No +one knew what Jocasta thought of the exalted padrone of the wide +lands, whose very spurs were of gold, but she knew there was scarce +wealth enough in all the village to keep a candle burning on the +Virgin's shrine, and her feet had never known a shoe. The padre died +suddenly just as Don Jose was making a bargain with him for the girl, +so he swept Jocasta to his saddle with no bargain whatever except that +she might send back for Lucita, her little sister, and other men +envied Perez his good luck when they looked at Jocasta. For three +years she had been mistress of his house in Hermosillo, but never had +he taken her into the wilderness of Soledad,--it was a crude casket +for so rich a treasure. + +Kit steeped in the luxury of a square meal, fell asleep, thinking of +the green-eyed Dona Jocasta whom no man forgot. He would not connect a +brilliant bird of the mountain with that drooping figure he and Tula +had seen stumbling towards the portal of Soledad. And the statement of +Isidro that there had been a killing, and Dona Jocasta was a lost +soul, was most puzzling of all. In a queer confused dream the killing +was done by Tula, and Billie wore the belt of gold, and had green +eyes. And he wakened himself with the apparently hopeless effort of +convincing Billie he had never forgotten her despite the feminine +witcheries of Sonora. + +The shadows were growing long, and some Indian boys were jogging +across the far flats. He reached for his field glass and saw that one +of them had a deer across his saddle. Isidro explained that the boys +were planting corn in a far field, and often brought a deer when they +came in for more seed or provisions. They had a hut and _ramada_ at +the edge of the planted land six miles away. They were good boys, +Benito and Mariano Bravo, and seldom both left the fields at the same +time. He called to Valencia that there would be deer for supper, then +watched the two riders as they approached, and smiled as they +perceptibly slowed up their broncos at sight of the bearded stranger +on the rawhide cot against the wall. + +"See you!" he pointed out to Kit. "These are the days of changes. Each +day we looking for another enemy, maybe that army of the south, and +the boys they think that way too." + +The boys, on being hailed, came to the house with their offering, and +bunkered down in the shadow with a certain shy stolidity, until Kit +spoke, when they at once beamed recognition, and made jokes of his +beard as a blanket. + +But they had news to tell, great news, for a child of Miguel had +broken away from the slavers and had hidden in the mountains, and at +last had found her way back to Palomitas. She was very tired and very +poor in raiment, and the people were weeping over her. Miguel, her +father, was dead from a wound, and was under the ground, and of the +others who went on she could tell nothing, only that Conrad, the +German friend of Don Jose, was the man who covered his face and helped +take the women. Her sister Anita had recognized him, calling out his +name, and he had struck her with a quirt. + +The women left their work to listen to this, and to add the memories +of some of their friends who had hidden and luckily escaped. + +"That white man should be crucified and left for the vultures," said +the boy Benito. + +"No," said the soft voice of Valencia, "God was sacrificed, but this +man is a white Judas; the death of God is too good for that man. It +has been talked about. He will be found some place,--and the Judas +death will be his. The women are making prayers." + +"It will soon be Easter," said Isidro. + +Kit did not know what was meant by a "Judas" death, though he did know +many of the church legends had been turned by the Indians into strange +and lurid caricatures. He thought it would be interesting to see how +they could enlarge on the drama of Judas, but he made no comment, as a +direct question would turn the Indians thoughtful, and silence them. + +They all appeared alert for the return of Rotil. No one believed he +had retired utterly from the region without demanding tribute from +Soledad. It was generally suspected that Perez received and held +munitions for use against the revolutionists though no one knew where +they were hidden. There were Indian tales of underground tunnels of +Soledad Mission for retreat in the old days in case of hostile +attacks, and the Soledad ranch house was built over part of that +foundation. No one at Soledad knew the entrance except Perez himself, +though it was surmised that Juan Gonsalvo had known, and had been the +one to store the mule loads and wagon loads of freight shipped over +the border before Miguel Herrara was caught at the work from the +American side. Perez was a careful man, and not more than one man was +trusted at one time. That man seemed marked by the angels for +accident, for something had always ended him, and it was no good +fortune to be a favorite of Don Jose--Dona Jocasta was learning that! + +Thus the gossip and surmise went on around Rhodes for his brief hour +of rest and readjustment. He encouraged the expression of opinion from +every source, for he had the job ahead of him to get three hundred +pounds of gold across the border and through a region where every +burro was liable to examination by some of the warring factions. It +behooved him to consider every tendency of the genus homo with which +he came in contact. Also the bonds between them,--especially the +bonds, since the various groups were much of a sameness, and only +"good" or "bad" according to their affiliations. Simple Benito and his +brother, and soft-voiced motherly Valencia who could conceive a worse +death for the German Judas than crucifixion, were typical of the +primitive people of desert and sierra. + +"How many head of stock think you still ranges Mesa Blanca?" he asked +Isidro, who confessed that he no longer rode abroad or kept tally, +but Clodomiro would know, and would be in to supper. Benito and +Mariano told of one stallion and a dozen mares beyond the hills, and a +spring near their fields had been muddied the day before by a bunch of +cows and calves, they thought perhaps twenty, and they had seen three +mules with the Mesa Blanca brand when they were getting wood. + +"Three mules, eh? Well, I may need those mules and the favor will be +to me if you keep them in sight," he said addressing the boys. "I am +to round up what I can and remove them after Senor Whitely, together +with other belongings." + +"Others, senor?" asked Isidro. + +Rhodes took the letter from his pocket, and perused it as if to +refresh his memory. + +"The old Spanish chest is to go if possible, and other things of Mrs. +Whitely's," he said. "I will speak of these to your wife if the plan +can carry, but there is chance of troops from the south and--who +knows?--we may be caught between the two armies and ground as meal on +a _metate_." + +He thus avoided all detail as to the loads the pack animals were to +carry, and the written word was a safe mystery to the Indian. He was +making no definite plans, but was learning all possibilities with a +mind prepared to take advantage of the most promising. + +Thus the late afternoon wore on in apparent restful idleness after the +hard trail. The boys secured their little allowance of beans and salt, +and corn for planting, but lingered after the good supper of Valencia, +a holiday feast compared with their own sketchy culinary performance +in the _jacal_ of the far fields. They scanned the trail towards +Palomitas, and then the way down the far western valley, evidently +loath to leave until their friend Clodomiro should arrive, and Isidro +expected him before sunset. + +But he came later from towards Soledad, a tall lad with fluttering +ribbands of pink and green from his banda and his elbows, and a girdle +of yellow fluttering fringed ends to the breeze,--all the frank +insignia of a youth in the market for marriage. He suggested a gay +graceful bird as he rode rapidly in the long lope of the range. His +boy friends of the planted fields went out to meet him at the corral, +and look after his horse while he went in to supper. He halted to +greet them, and then walked soberly across the plaza where pepper +trees and great white alisos trailed dusk shadows in the early +starlight. + +"What _reata_ held you?" asked Isidro. "Has Soledad grown a place for +comradeship?" + +"No, senor," said the lad passing into the dining room where two +candles gave him light in the old adobe room, "it is comradeship we do +not need, but it is coming to us." + +He seated himself on the wooden bench and his grandmother helped him +from a smoking plate of venison. He looked tired and troubled, and he +had not even taken note that a stranger was beside Isidro in the +shadows. + +"What nettle stings you, boy?" asked his grandfather sarcastically, +and at that he looked up and rose to his feet at sight of Rhodes. + +"Your pardon, senor, I stumbled past like a bat blind in the light," +he muttered, and as he met Kit's eyes and recognized him his face lit +up and his white teeth gleamed in a smile. + +"The saints are in it that you are here again, senor!" he exclaimed, +"and you came on this day when most needed." + +"Eat and then tell your meaning," said Isidro, but Clodomiro glanced +toward the kitchen, and then listened for the other boys. They were +laughing down at the corral. Clodomiro's horse had thrown one of +them. + +"With your permission, grandfather, talk first," he said and the two +men moved to the bench opposite, leaning over towards him as his voice +was lowered. + +"Today Marto Cavayso sent for me, he is foreman over there, and +strange things are going forward. He has heard that General Rotil +stripped Mesa Blanca and that all white people are gone from it. He +wants this house and will pay us well to open the door. It is for the +woman. They have played a game for her, and he has won, but she is a +wild woman when he goes near her, and his plan is to steal her out at +night and hide her from the others. So he wants this house. He offered +me a good gun. He offers us the protection of Don Jose Perez." + +"But--why--that is not credible," protested Kit. "He could not count +on protection from Perez if he stole the woman whom many call Senora +Perez, for that is what they did call Dona Jocasta in Hermosillo." + +"Maybe so," assented Clodomiro stolidly, "but now he is to be the +_esposo_ of a Dona Dolores who is the child of General Terain, so +Marto says. Well, this Dona Jocasta has done some killing, and Don +Jose does not give her to prison. He sends her to the desert that she +brings him no disgrace; and if another man takes her or sinks her in +the quicksands then that man will be helping Don Jose. That is how it +is. Marto says the woman has bewitched him, and he is crazy about her. +Some of the other men, will take her, if not him." + +Kit exchanged a long look with the old Indian. + +"The house is yours, senor," said Isidro. "By the word of Senor +Whitely, you are manager of Mesa Blanca." + +"Many thanks," replied Kit, and sat with his elbows on the table and +his hands over his eyes, thinking--thinking of the task he had set +himself in Sonora, and the new turn of the wheel of fortune. + +"You say the lady is a prisoner?" he asked. + +"Sure," returned Clodomiro promptly. "She broke loose coming through a +little pueblo and ran to the church. She found the priest and told him +things, so they also take that priest! If they let him go he will +talk, and Don Jose wanting no talk now of this woman. That priest is +well cared for, but not let go away. After awhile, maybe so." + +"She is bright, and her father was a priest," mused Kit. "So there is +three chances out of four that she can read and write,--a little +anyway. Could you get a letter to her?" + +"Elena could." + +Kit got up, took one of the candles from the table and walked through +the rooms surrounding the patio. Some of them had wooden bars in the +windows, but others had iron grating, and he examined these +carefully. + +"There are two rooms fit for perfectly good jails," he decided, "so I +vote we give this bewitched Don Marto the open door. How many guns can +we muster?" + +"He promised to give me one, and ammunition." + +"Well, you get it! Get two if you can, but at least get plenty of +ammunition. Isidro, will your wife be brave and willing to help?" + +The old Indian nodded his head vigorously and smiled. Evidently only a +stranger would ask if his Valencia could be brave! + +The two brothers came in, and conversation was more guarded until +Clodomiro had finished his supper, and gone a little ways home with +them to repay them the long wait for comradeship. + +When he came back Kit had his plans fairly settled, and had a brief +note written to Senora Jocasta Perez, as follows: + + HONORED SENORA: + + One chance of safety is yours. Let yourself be persuaded to leave + Soledad with Marto. You will be rescued from him by + + AN AMERICAN. + +"I reckon that will do the trick," decided Kit. "I feel like a +blooming Robin Hood without the merry men,--but the Indians will play +safe, even if they are not merry. When can you get this to Elena?" + +"In time of breakfast," said Clodomiro promptly. "I go tonight, and +tomorrow night he steals that woman. Maybe Elena helps." + +"You take Elena a present from me to encourage that help," suggested +Kit, and he poured a little of the gold from his belt on the paper. +"Also there is the same for you when the lady comes safe. It is best +that you make willing offer of your service in all ways so that he +calls on none of his own men for help." + +"As you say, senor," assented Clodomiro, "and that will march well +with his desires, for to keep the others from knowing is the principal +thing. She has beauty like a lily in the shade." + +"He tells you that?" asked Kit quizzically, but the boy shook his +head. + +"My own eyes looked on her. She is truly of the beauty of the holy +pictures of the saints in the chapel, but Marto says she is a witch, +and has him enchanted;--also that evil is very strong in her. I do not +know." + +"Well, cross your fingers and tackle the job," suggested Kit. "Get +what sleep you can, for you may not get much tomorrow night. It is the +work of a brave man you are going to do, and your pay will be a man's +pay." + +The eyes of the Indian boy glowed with pleasure. + +"At your service, senor. I will do this thing or I will not see Mesa +Blanca again." + +Kit looked after Clodomiro and rolled another cigarette before turning +in to sleep. + +"When all's said and done, I may be the chief goat of this dame +adventure," he told himself in derision. "Maybe my own fingers need +crossing." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +A WOMAN OF EMERALD EYES + + +At the first break of dawn, Rhodes was up, and without waiting for +breakfast walked over to the rancherias of Palomitas to see Tula. + +She was with some little girls and old women carrying water from the +well as stolidly as though adventure had never stalked across her +path. A whole garment had been given her instead of the tatter of rags +in which she had returned to the little Indian pueblo. She replied +briefly to his queries regarding her welfare, and when he asked where +she was living, she accompanied him to an old adobe where there were +two other motherless children--victims of the raiders. + +An old, half-blind woman stirred meal into a kettle of porridge, and +to her Kit addressed himself. + +"A blessing will be on your house, but you have too many to feed +here," he said "and the child of Miguel should go to the ranch house +of Mesa Blanca. The wife of Isidro is a good woman and will give her +care." + +"Yes, senor, she is a good woman," agreed the old Indian. "Also it may +be a safe house for a maiden, who knows? Here it is not safe; other +raiders may come." + +"That is true. Send her after she has eaten." + +He then sought out one of the older men to learn who could be counted +on to round up the stray cattle of the ranges. After that he went at +once back to the ranch house, and did not even speak to Tula again. +There was nothing to indicate that she was the principal object of his +visit, or that she had acquired a guardian who was taking his job +seriously. + +Later in the day she was brought to Mesa Blanca by an elderly Indian +woman of her mother's clan, and settled in the quiet Indian manner in +the new dwelling place. Valencia was full of pity for the girl of few +years who had yet known the hard trail, and had mourned alone for her +dead. + +There was a sort of suppressed bustle about _la casa de Mesa Blanca_ +that day, dainties of cookery prepared with difficulty from the +diminished stores, and the rooms of the iron bars sprinkled and swept, +and pillows of wondrous drawnwork decorated the more pretentious bed. +To Tula it was more of magnificence than she had ever seen in her +brief life, and the many rooms in one dwelling was a wonder. She would +stand staring across the patio and into the various doorways through +which she hesitated to pass. She for whom the wide silences of the +desert held few terrors, hesitated to linger alone in the shadows of +the circling walls. Kit noted that when each little task was finished +for Valencia, she would go outside in the sunlight where she had the +familiar ranges and far blue mountains in sight. + +"Here it makes much trouble only to live in a house," she said +pointing to the needlework on a table cover. "The bowls of food will +make that dirty in one eating, and then what? Women in fine houses +are only as mares in time of thrashing the grain--no end and no +beginning to the work,--they only tread their circle." + +"Right you are, sister," agreed Kit, "they do make a lot of whirligig +work for themselves, all the same as your grandmothers painting +pottery that smash like eggshells. But life here isn't all play at +that, and there may be something doing before sleep time tonight. I +went after you so I would have a comrade I knew would stick." + +She only gazed at him without question. + +"You remember, Tula, the woman led by the padre at Soledad?" + +She nodded silently. + +"It may be that woman is captive to the same men who took your +people," he said slowly watching her, "and it may be we can save +her." + +"May it also be that we can catch the man?" she asked, and her eyes +half closed, peered up at him in curious intensity. "Can that be, O +friend?" + +"Some day it must surely be, Tula." + +"One day it must be,--one day, and prayers are making all the times +for that day," she insisted stolidly. "The old women are talking, and +for that day they want him." + +"What day, Tula?" + +"The Judas day." + +Kit Rhodes felt a curious creepy sensation of being near an unseen +danger, some sleeping serpent basking in the sun, harmless until +aroused for attack. He thought of the gentle domestic Valencia, and +now this child, both centered on one thought--to sacrifice a traitor +on the day of Judas! + +"Little girls should make helpful prayers," he ventured rather lamely, +"not vengeance prayers." + +"I was the one to make cry of a woman, when my father went under the +earth," she said. It was her only expression of the fact that she had +borne a woman's share of all their joint toil in the desert,--and he +caught her by the shoulder, as she turned away. + +"Why, Kid Cleopatra, it isn't a woman's work you've done at all. It's +a man's job you've held down and held level," he declared heartily. +"That's why I am counting on you now. I need eyes to watch when I have +to be in other places." + +"I watch," she agreed, "I watch for you, but maybe I make my own +prayers also;--all the time prayers." + +"Make one for a straight trail to the border, and all sentries +asleep!" he suggested. "We have a pile of yellow rock to get across, +to say nothing of our latest puzzling prospect." + +As the day wore on the latest "prospect" presented many complications +to the imagination, and he tramped the corridors of Mesa Blanca +wondering why he had seen but one side of the question the night +before, for in the broad light of day there seemed a dozen, and all +leading to trouble! That emerald-eyed daughter of a renegade priest +had proven a host in herself when it came to breeding trouble. She +certainly had been unlucky. + +"Well, it might be worse," he confided to Bunting out in the corral. +"Cap Pike might have tagged along to discourse on the general +tomfoolery of a partner who picks up a damsel in distress at every +fork of the trail. Not that he'd be far wrong at that, Baby. If any +hombre wanted to catch me in a bear trap he'd only need to bait it +with a skirt." + +Baby Bunting nodded sagaciously, and nuzzled after Kit who was +cleaning up the best looking saddle horse brought in from the Indian +herd. It was a scraggy sorrel with twitchy ears and wicked eyes, but +it looked tough as a mountain buck. Kit knew he should need two like +that for the northern trail, and had hopes that the bewitched Marto +Cavayso, whoever he was, would furnish another. + +He went steadily about his preparations for the border trail, just as +if the addition of an enchantress with green-jewel eyes was an every +day bit of good fortune expected in every outfit, but as the desert +ranges flamed rose and mauve in the lowering sun there was a restless +expectancy at the ranch house, bolts and locks and firearms were given +final inspection. Even at the best it was a scantily manned fort for +defense in case Mario's companions at dice should question his winning +and endeavor to capture the stake. + +"I shall go part way on the Soledad trail and wait what happens," he +told Isidro. "I will remain at a distance unless Clodomiro needs me. +There is no telling what tricks this Cavayso may have up his sleeve." + +"I was thinking that same thought," said the old Indian. "The men of +Perez are not trusted long, even by Perez. When it is a woman, they +are not trusted even in sight! Go with God on the trail." + +The ugly young sorrel ran tirelessly the first half of the way, just +enough to prove his wind. Then they entered a canon where scrub +cottonwoods and greasebush gathered moisture enough for scant growth +among the boulders worn out of the cliffs by erosion. It was the +safest place to wait, as it was also the most likely place for +treachery if any was intended to Clodomiro. At either end of the pass +lay open range and brown desert, with only far patches of oasis where +a well was found, or a sunken river marked a green pasture in some +valley. + +When he wrote the note he had not thought of danger to Clodomiro, +regarding him only as a fearless messenger, but if the boy should +prove an incumbrance to Cavayso after they were free of Soledad, that +might prove another matter, and as old Isidro had stated, no one +trusted a Perez man when a woman was in question! + +He dismounted to listen and seek safe shadow, for the dusk had come, +and desert stars swung like brilliant lamps in the night sky, and the +white rocks served as clear background for any moving body. + +The plan was, if possible, to get the woman out with Clodomiro while +the men were at supper. The _manta_ of Elena could cover her, and if +she could walk with a water jar to the far well as any Indian woman +would walk, and a horse hid in the willows there----! + +It had been well thought out, and if nothing had interfered they +should have reached the canon an hour earlier. If Clodomiro had failed +it might be a serious matter, and Kit Rhodes had some anxious moments +for the stolen woman while dusk descended on the canon. + +He listened for the beat of horse hoofs, but what he heard first was a +shot, and a woman's scream, and then the walls of the canon echoed the +tumult of horses racing towards him in flight. + +He recognized Clodomiro by the bare head and banda, and a woman bent +low beside him, her _manta_ flapping like the wings of a great bird as +her horse leaped forward beside the Indian boy. + +Back of them galloped a man who slowed up and shot backward at the +foremost of a pursuing band. + +He missed, and the fire was returned, evidently with some effect, for +the first marksman grunted and cursed, and Kit heard the clatter of +his gun as it fell from his hand. He leaned forward and spurred his +horse to outrun the pursuers. He was evidently Marto. + +Kit had a mental vision of fighting Marto alone for the woman at Mesa +Blanca, or fighting with the entire band and decided to halt the +leader of the pursuers and gain that much time at least for the woman +and Clodomiro. + +He had mounted at the first sound of the runaways, and crouching low +in the saddle, hid back of the thick green of a dwarfed mesquite, and +as the leader came into range against the white rock well he aimed low +and touched the trigger. + +The horse leaped up and the rider slid off as the animal sunk to the +ground. Kit guided his mount carefully along shadowed places into the +road expecting each instant a shot from the man on the ground. + +But it did not come, and he gained the trail before the other pursuers +rounded the bend of the canon. The sound of their hoofs would deafen +them to his, and once on the trail he gave the sorrel the rein, and +the wild thing went down the gully like an arrow from a bow. + +He was more than a little puzzled at the silence back of him. The +going down of the one man and horse had evidently checked all +pursuit. Relieved though he was at the fact, he realized it was not a +natural condition of affairs, and called for explanation. + +The other three riders were a half mile ahead and he had no idea of +joining them on the trail. It occurred to him there was a possible +chance of taking a short cut over the point of the mesa and beating +them to the home ranch. There was an even chance that the rougher +trail would offer difficulties in the dark, but that was up to the +sorrel and was worth the trial. + +The bronco took the mesa walls like a cat, climbed and staggered up, +slid and tumbled down and crossed the level intervening space to the +corral as the first sound of the others came beating across the +sands. + +A dark little figure arose by the corral bars and reached for the +horse as he slipped from the saddle. + +"Quickly, Tulita!" he said, stripping saddle and bridle from its back, +"one instant only to make ourselves as still as shadows under the +walls of the house." + +Fast as he ran, she kept pace with him to the corridor where Isidro +waited. + +"All is well," he said briefly to the old man. "Clodomiro comes safe +with the senora, and the man who would steal her was shot and lost his +gun. All has gone very well." + +"Thanks to God!" said the old Indian. "The stealing of women has ever +been a danger near, but luck comes well to you, senor, and it is good +to be under the protection of you." + +"Open the door and show a light of welcome," said Kit. "Call your wife +and let all be as planned by us. I will be in the shadows, and a good +gun for safety of the woman if needed, but all will work well, as you +will see." + +The three riders came up to the portal before dismounting, and +Valencia went forward, while Isidro held high a blazing torch, and +Clodomiro dismounted quickly, and offered help to the woman. + +"My grandmother has all for your comfort, senora," he said, "will it +please you to descend?" + +The man swung from the saddle, awkwardly nursing his right arm. + +"Yes this is a safe place, Dona Jocasta," he declared. "It is all well +arranged. With your permission I may assist you." + +He offered his left hand, but she looked from him to Valencia, and +then to Clodomiro. + +"You are young to be a stealer of women;--the saints send you a whiter +road!" she said. "And you may help me, for my shoulder has a hurt from +that first shot of the comrade of this man." + +"No, senora," stated her captor, "the evil shot came from no comrade +of mine. They did not follow us, those bandits--accursed be their +names! They were hid in the canoncita and jumped our trail. But have +no fear, Dona Jocasta, they are left behind, and it will be my +pleasure to nurse the wounds they have made." + +"Be occupied with your own," she suggested pointing to his hand from +which blood still dripped, "and you, mother, can show me the new +prison. It can be no worse than the others." + +"Better, much better, little dove," said Marto, who followed after +the two women, and glanced over their shoulders into the guest chamber +of the iron bars, "it is a bird cage of the finest, and a nest for +harmonies." + +Then to Valencia he turned with authority, "When you have made the +senorita comfortable, bring the key of the door to me." + +"_Si_, senor," said Valencia bending low, and even as the prisoner +entered the room, she changed the key to the outside of the door. +Marto nodded his approval and turned away. + +"Now this shirt off, and a basin of water and a bandage," he ordered +Isidro. "It is not much, and it still bleeds." + +"True, it does, senor, and the room ordered for you has already the +water and a clean shirt on the pillow. Clodomiro, go you for a +bandage, and fetch wine to take dust out of the throat! This way, +senor,--and may you be at home in your own house!" + +Unsuspecting, the amorous Marto followed the old man into the room +prepared. He grunted contemptuous satisfaction at evidences of comfort +extending to lace curtains hanging white and full over the one +window. + +"It is the time for a shirt of such cleanness," he observed, with a +grin. "_Jesusita!_ but the sleeve sticks to me! Cut it off, and be +quick to make me over into a bridegroom." + +The old man did as he was bidden, and when Clodomiro brought in a +woven tray covered with a napkin from which a bottle of wine was +discernible, Marto grinned at him. + +"It is a soft nest you found for me, boy," he said appreciatively, +"and when I am capitan I will make you lieutenant." + +"Thanks to you, senor, and hasten the day!" + +Clodomiro assisted his grandfather, and stood aside at the door +respectfully as the old man passed out with his primitive supply of +salves and antiseptics, and only when all need of caution was ended +the boy smiled at the would-be Lothario, and the smile held a subtle +mockery as he murmured, "The saints send you a good night's sleep, +senor, and a waking to health--and clearer sight!" + +"Hell and its blazes to you! why do you grin?" demanded the other +setting down the bottle from which he had taken a long and grateful +drink, but quick as a cat the boy pulled the door shut, and slipped +the bolt on the outside, and laughed aloud. + +"Not this night will you be bridegroom for another man's wife, senor!" +he called. "Also it is better that you put curb on your curses,--for +the lady has a mind for a quiet night of sleep." + +Marto rushed to the curtained window only to find iron bars and the +glint of a gun barrel. Isidro held the gun, and admonished the +storming captive with the gentle fatalism of the Indian. + +"It is done under orders of the major-domo, senor. There is no other +way. If your words are hard or rough to the ears of the lady, there is +a bullet for you, and a hidden place for your grave. This is the only +word to you, senor. It is given me to say." + +"But--Gods, saints, and devils--hearken you to me!" stormed the man. +"This is a fool's joke! It can't go on! I must be back at sunrise--_I +must!_" + +"You will see many suns rise through these bars if the padrone so +pleases," murmured Isidro gently. "That is not for us to decide." + +"To hottest hell with your padrone and you! Bring him here to listen +to me. This is no affair of a man and a woman,--curse her witch eyes +and their green fires! There is work afoot,--big work, and I must get +back to Soledad. You know what goes over the trail to Soledad,--every +Indian knows! It is the cache of ammunition with which to save the +peon and Indian slave,--you know that! You know the revolutionists +must get it to win in Sonora. A trap is set for tomorrow, a big trap! +I must be there to help spring it. To you there will be riches and +safety all your life for my freedom--on the cross I will swear that. +I----" + +"Senor, nothing is in my power, and of your traps I know nothing. I am +told you set a trap for a lady who is in grief and your own feet were +caught in it. That is all I know of traps," said Isidro. + +Kit patted the old man on the shoulder for cleverness, even while he +wondered at the ravings of the would-be abductor. Then he crept nearer +the window where he could see the face of the prisoner clearly, and +without the overshadowing hat he had worn on entrance. The face gave +him something to think about, for it was that of one of the men who +had ridden up to the Yaqui spring the day he had found Tula and Miguel +in the desert. How should this rebel who rode on secret trails with +Ramon Rotil be head man at Soledad for Rotil's enemy? And what was the +trap? + +"Look well at that man, Isidro," he whispered, "and tell me if such a +man rode here to Mesa Blanca with General Rotil." + +"No such man was here, senor, but this man was foreman at Soledad +before the Deliverer came over the eastern range to Mesa Blanca. Also +the general and Don Jose Perez are known as enemies;--the friend of +one cannot be the friend of another." + +"True enough, Isidro, but that does not help me to understand the trap +set. Call your wife and learn if I can see the Dona Jocasta." + +Tula had crept up beside them, and touched him on the arm. + +"She asks for you, and sadness is with her very much. She watches us +in fear, and cannot believe that the door is open for her." + +"If that is her only trouble we can clear it away for her, _pronto_," +he stated, and they entered the patio. + +"It is not her only trouble, but of the other she does not speak. +Valencia weeps to look at her." + +"Heavens! Is she as bad looking as that?" + +"No, it is another reason," stated the girl stolidly. "She is a caged +humming bird, and her wings have broken." + +Kit Rhodes never forgot that first picture of their kidnaped guest, +for he agreed with Clodomiro who saw in her the living representation +of old biblical saints. + +The likeness was strengthened by the half Moorish drapery over her +head, a black mantilla which, at sound of a man's step, she hurriedly +drew across the lower part of her face. Her left arm and shoulder was +bare, and Valencia bent over her with a strip of old linen for +bandage, but the eyes of Dona Jocasta were turned half shrinking, half +appraising to the strange Americano. It was plain to her that +conquering men were merely the owners of women. + +"It is good you come, senor," said Valencia. "Here is a wound and the +bullet under the skin. I have waited for Isidro to help but he is slow +on the way." + +"He is busy otherwise, but I will call him unless my own help will +serve here. That is for the senora to say." + +The eyes of the girl,--she was not more,--never left his face, and +above the lace scarf she peered at him as through a mask. + +"It is you who sent messenger to save an unhappy one you did not know? +You are the Americano of the letter?" + +"At your service, senora. May that service begin now?" + +"It began when that letter was written, and this room made ready," she +said. "And if you can find the bullet it will end the unhappiness of +this good woman. She weeps for the little bit of lead. It should have +struck a heart instead of a shoulder." + +"Ah, senora!" lamented Valencia, "weep like a woman over sorrows. It +is a better way than to mock." + +"God knows it is not for me to mock!" breathed the soft voice +bitterly. "And if the senor will lend you his aid, I will again be in +his debt." + +Without further words Kit approached, and Valencia drew the cover from +the shoulder and indicated where the ball could be felt. + +"I cannot hold the shoulder and press the flesh there without making +much pain, too much," stated Valencia, "but it must come out, or there +will be trouble." + +"Sure there will," asserted Kit, "and if you or Tula will hold the +arm, and Dona Jocasta will pardon me----" + +He took the white shoulder in his two hands and gently traced the +direction of the bullet. It had struck in the back and slanted along +the shoulder blade. It was evidently fired from a distance and little +force left. Marto had been much nearer the pursuer, and his was a +clean cut wound through the upper arm. + +The girl turned chalky white as he began slowly to press the bullet +backward along its trail, but she uttered no sound, only a deep intake +of breath that was half a sob, and the cold moisture of sickening pain +stood in beads on her face. + +All of the little barriers with a stranger were forgotten, and the +shielding scarf fell away from her face and bosom, and even with the +shadowed emerald eyes closed, Kit Rhodes thought her the most perfect +thing in beauty he had ever seen. + +He hated himself for the pain he was forcing on her as he steadily +followed the bullet upward and upward until it lay in his hand. + +She did not faint, as he feared she might, but fell back in the chair, +while Valencia busied herself with the ointment and bandage, and Tula, +at a word from Kit, poured her a cup of wine. + +"Drink," he said, "if only a little, senora. Your strength has served +you well, but it needs help now." + +She swallowed a little of the wine, and drew the scarf about her, and +after a little opened her eyes and looked at him. He smiled at her +approvingly, and offered her the bullet. + +"It may be you will want it to go on some shrine to a patron saint, +senora," he suggested, but she did not take it, only looked at him +steadily with those wonderful eyes, green with black lashes, shining +out of her marble Madonna-like face. + +"My patron saint traveled the trail with you, Senor Americano, and the +bullet is witness. Let me see it." + +He gave it into her open hand where she balanced it thoughtfully. + +"So near the mark, yet went aside," she murmured. "Could that mean +there is yet any use left in the world for me?" + +"Beauty has its own use in the world, senora; that is why rose gardens +are planted." + +"True, senor, though I belong no more to the gardens;--no, not to +gardens, but to the desert. Neither have I place nor power today, and +I may never have, but I give back to you this witness of your great +favor. If a day comes when I, Jocasta, can give favor in return, bring +or send this witness of the ride tonight. I will redeem it." + +"The favor is to me, and calls for no redemption," said Kit awkward at +the regal poise of her, and enchanted by the languorous glance and +movement of her. Even the reaching out of her hand made him think of +Tula's words, 'a humming bird,' if one could imagine such a +jewel-winged thing weighted down with black folds of mourning. + +"A caged humming bird with broken wings!" and that memory brought +another thought, and he fumbled the bullet, and gave the first steady +look into those emerald, side-glancing eyes. + +"But--there is a compact I should appreciate if Dona Jocasta will do +me the favor,--and it is that she sets value on the life that is now +her very own, and, that she forgets not to cherish it." + +"Ah-h!" She looked up at him piteously a moment, and then the long +lashes hid her eyes, and her head was bent low. "Sinful and without +shame have I been! and they have told you of the knife I tried to +use--here!" + +She touched her breast with her slender ring-laden hand, and her voice +turned mocking. + +"But you see, Senor Americano, even Death will not welcome me, and +neither steel nor lead will serve me!" + +"Life will serve you better, senora." + +"Not yet has it done so, and I am a woman--old--old! I am twenty, +senor, and refused of Death! Jocasta Benicia they named me. Jocasta +Perdida it should have been to fit the soul of me, so why should I +promise a man whom I do not know that I will cherish my life when I +would not promise a padre? Answer me that, senor whose name has not +been told me!" + +"But you will promise, senora," insisted Kit, smiling a little, though +thrilled by the sadness of life's end at twenty, "and as for names, if +you are Dona Perdida I may surely name myself Don Esperenzo, for I +have not only hope, but conviction, that life is worth living!" + +"To a man, yes, and Mexico is a man's land." + +"Ay, it must be yours as well,--beautiful that thou art!" murmured +Valencia adoringly. "You should not give yourself a name of sadness, +for this is our Senor El Pajarito, who is both gay and of honesty. +He,--with God,--is your protection, and harm shall not be yours." + +Dona Jocasta reached out and touched kindly the bent head of the +Indian woman. + +"As you will, mother. With hope and a singer for a shield, even a +prison would not be so bad, El Pajarito, eh? Do you make songs--or +sing them, senor?" + +"Neither,--I am only a lucky bluff. My old partner and I used to sing +fool things to the mules, and as we could out-bray the burros my Indio +friends are kind and call it a singing;--as easy as that is it to get +credit for talent in this beneficent land of yours! But--the compact, +senora?" + +Her brows lifted wearily, yet the hint of a smile was in her eyes. + +"Yes, since you ask so small a thing, it is yours. Jocasta makes +compact with you; give me a wish that the life is worth it." + +"Sure I will," said Kit holding out his hand, but she shrunk +perceptibly, and her hand crept out of sight in the black draperies. + +"You have not, perhaps, ever sent a soul to God without absolution?" +she asked in a breathless hushed sort of voice. "No senor, the look of +you tells me you have not been so unpardonable. Is it not so?" + +"Why, yes," returned Kit, "it hasn't been a habit with me to start +anyone on the angels' flight without giving him time to bless himself, +but even at that----" + +"No, no!" as he took a step nearer. "The compact is ours without +handclasp. The hand of Jocasta is the hand of the black glove, +senor." + +He looked from her to the two Indians, the old woman kneeling beside +Jocasta and crossing herself, and Tula, erect and slender against the +adobe wall, watching him stolidly. There was no light on the subject +from either of them. + +"Pardon, I'm but a clumsy Americano, not wise to your meanings," he +ventured, "and beautiful hands look better without gloves of any +color." + +"It may be so, yet I have heard that no matter how handsome a headsman +may be, he wears a black mask, and hands are not stretched out to +touch his." + +"Senora!" + +"Senor, we arrive at nothing when making speech of me," she said with +a little sigh. "Our ride was hard, and rest is best for all of us. Our +friend here tells me there is supper, and if you will eat with me, we +will know more of how all this has come about. It is strange that you, +a lone Americano in this land, should plan this adventure like a +bandit, and steal not only the major-domo of Soledad, but the woman he +would steal!" + +"It was so simple that the matter is not worth words except as +concerns Clodomiro, who was the only one in danger." + +"Ah! if ever they had suspected him! You have not seen that band of +men, they are terrible! Of all the men of Jose Perez they are the +blackest hearts, and if it had not been for the poor padre----" + +"Tell me of him," said Kit who perceived she was willing enough to +speak plainly of all things except herself. "He is a good man?" + +"A blessing to me, senor!" she asserted earnestly as they were seated +at the table so carefully prepared by Valencia. "Look you! I broke +away from those animals and in a little mountain village,--such a one +as I was born in, senor!--I ran to the altar of the little chapel, and +that priest was a shield for me. Against all the men he spoke curses +if they touched me. Well, after that there was only one task to do, +and that was to carry him along. I think they wanted to kill him, and +had not the courage. And after all that I came away from Soledad +without saving him;--that was bad of me, very bad! I--I think I went +wild in the head when I saw the men play games of cards, and I to go +to the winner! Not even a knife for food would they give me, for they +knew----" + +She shuddered, and laid down quickly the knife she had lifted from +beside her plate, and glanced away when she found him regarding her. + +"It has been long weeks since I was trusted as you are trusting me +here," she continued quietly. "See! On my wrists were chains at +first." + +"And this Marto Cavayso did that?" demanded Kit as she showed her +scarred slender wrist over which Valencia had wept. + +"No, it was before Cavayso--he is a new man--so I think this was when +Conrad was first helping to plan me as an insane woman and have me put +secretly to prison, but some fear struck Jose Perez, and that plan +would not serve. In the dark of night I was half smothered in wraps +and put in an ox-cart of a countryman and hauled north out of the +city. Two men rode as guard. They chained me in the day and slept, +traveling only in the night until they met Cavayso and his men. After +that I remember little, I was so weary of life! One alcalde asked +about me and Cavayso said I was his wife who had run away with a gypsy +fiddler, and he was taking me home to my children. Of what use to +speak? A dozen men would have added their testimony to his, and had +sport in making other romance against me. They were sullen because +they thought I had jewels hid under my clothes, and Cavayso would not +let them search me. It has been hell in these hills of Sonora, Senor +Pajarito." + +"That is easy to understand," agreed Kit wondering at her endurance, +and wondering at the poise and beauty of her after such experience. +There was no trace of nervousness, or of tears, or self-pity. It was +as if all this of which she told had been a minor affair, dwarfed by +some tragic thing to which he had no key. + +"So, Conrad was in this plot against you?" he asked, and knew that +Tula, standing back of his chair had missed no word. "You mean the +German Conrad who is manager of Granados ranches across the border?" + +"Senor, I mean the beast whose trail is red with the blood of +innocence, and whose poison is sinking into the veins of Mexico like a +serpent, striking secretly, now here, now there, until the blood of +the land is black with that venom. Ay! I know, senor;--the earth is +acrawl with the German lizards creeping into the shining sun of +Mexico! This so excellent Don Adolf Conrad is only one, and Jose Perez +is his target--I am the one to know that! A year ago, and Don Jose was +a man, with faults perhaps; but who is perfect on this earth? Then +came Don Adolf riding south and is very great gentleman and makes +friends. His home in Hermosillo becomes little by little the house of +Perez, and little by little Perez goes on crooked paths. That is true! +First it was to buy a ship for coast trade, then selling rifles in +secret where they should not be sold, then--shame it is to tell--men +and women were sold and carried on that ship like cattle! Not rebels, +senor, not prisoners of battle,--but herdsmen and ranch people, poor +Indian farmers whom only devils would harm! Thus it was, senor, until +little by little Don Adolf knew so much that Jose Perez awoke to find +he had a master, and a strong one! It was not one man alone who caught +him in the net; it was the German comrades of Don Adolf who never +forgot their task, even when he was north in the States. They needed a +man of name in Hermosillo, and Jose Perez is now that man. When the +whip of the German cracks, he must jump to serve their will." + +"But Jose Perez is a strong man. Before this day he has wiped many a +man from his trail if the man made him trouble," ventured Kit. + +"You have right in that, senor, but I am telling you it is a wide net +they spread and in that net he is snared. Also his household is no +longer his own. The Indian house servants are gone, and outlaw +Japanese are there instead. That is true and their dress is the dress +of Indians. They are Japanese men of crimes, and German men gave aid +that they escape from justice in Japan. It is because they need such +men for German work in Mexico, men who have been taught German and +dare not turn rebel. Not an hour of the life of Jose Perez is free +from the eyes of a spy who is a man of crimes. And there are other +snares. They tell him that he is to be a governor by their +help;--that is a rich bait to float before the eyes of a man! His feet +are set on a trail made by Adolph Conrad,--He is trapped, and there is +no going back. Poison and shame and slavery and death have come upon +that trail like black mushrooms grown in a night, and what the end of +the trail will be is hid in the heart of God." + +"But your sympathy is with those women in slavery there in the south, +and not with the evil friend of Jose Perez?" asked Kit. + +"Can you doubt, senor? Am I not as truly a victim as they? I have not +worked under a whip, but there are other punishments--for a woman!" + +Her voice dropped almost to a whisper, and she rested her chin on her +hand, staring out into the shadows of the patio, oblivious of them +all. Tula gazed at her as if fascinated, and there was a difference in +her regard. That she was linked in hate against Conrad gave the Indian +girl common cause with the jewel-eyed woman whose beauty had been the +boast of a province. Kit noticed it and was vastly comforted. The +absolute stolidity of Tula had left him in doubt as to the outcome if +his little partner had disapproved of his fascinating protegee. He +knew the thing she wanted to know, and asked it. + +"Senora, the last band of Indian slaves from Sonora were driven from +the little pueblo of Palomitas at the edge of this ranch. And there +are sisters and mothers here with sick hearts over that raid. Can you +tell me where those women were sent?" + +"Which raid was that, and when?" asked Jocasta arousing herself from +some memory in which she had been submerged. "Pardon, senor, I am but +a doleful guest at supper, thinking too deeply of that which sent me +here. Your question?" + +He repeated it, and she strove to remember. + +"There were many, and no one was told whence they came. It was +supposed they were war prisoners who had to be fed, and were being +sent to grow their own maize. If it were the last band then it would +be the time Conrad had the wound in the face, here, like a knife +thrust, and that----" + +"That was the time," interrupted Kit eagerly. "If you can tell us +where those people were sent you will prove the best of blessings to +Mesa Blanca this night." + +She smiled sadly at that and looked from him to Tula, whom she +evidently noted for the first time. + +"It is long since the word of blessing has been given to Jocasta," she +said wistfully. "It would be a comfort to earn it in this house. But +that band was not sent away,--not far. Something went wrong with the +boat down the coast, I forgot what it was, but there was much trouble, +and the Indians were sent to a plantation of the General Terain until +the boat was ready. I do not know what plantation, except that Conrad +raged about it. He and Don Jose had a quarrel, very terrible! That +wound given to him by a woman made him very difficult; then the +quarrel ended by them drinking together too much. And after that many +things happened very fast, and--I was brought north." + +"And the Indians?" + +"Senor, I do not think anyone thought again of those Indians. They +are planting maize or cane somewhere along the Rio Sonora." + +Tula sank down weeping against the wall, while Valencia stroked her +hair and patted her. Dona Jocasta regarded her curiously. + +"To be young enough to weep like that over a sorrow!" she murmured +wistfully. "It is to envy her, and not mourn over her." + +"But this weeping is of joy," explained Valencia. "It is as the senor +says, a blessing has come with you over the hard road. This child was +also stolen, and was clever to escape. Her mother and her sister are +yet there in that place where the maize is planted. If the boat has +not taken them, then they also may get back. It is a hope!" + +"Poor little one! and now that I could make good use of power, it is +no longer mine," said Jocasta, looking at Kit regretfully. "A young +maid with courage to escape has earned the right to be given help." + +"She will be given it," he answered quietly, "and since your patience +has been great with my questions, I would ask more of this Cavayso we +have trapped tonight. He is raging of curious things there across the +patio. Isidro holds a gun on him that he subdue his shouts, and his +offer is of rich bribes for quick freedom. He is as mad to get back to +Soledad as he was to leave it, and he tells of a trap set there for +someone. It concerns ammunition for the revolutionists." + +"No, not for them, but for trade in the south," said Jocasta promptly. +"Yes, Soledad has long been the place for hiding of arms. It was the +task of Don Adolf to get them across the border, and then a man of +Don Jose finds a safe trail for them. Sometimes a German officer from +Tucson is of much help there in the north. I have heard Don Jose and +Conrad laugh about the so easily deceived Americanos,--your pardon, +senor!" + +"Oh, we are used to that," agreed Kit easily, "and it is quite true. +We have a whole flock of peace doves up there helping the Hohenzollern +game. What was the officer's name?" + +"A name difficult and long," she mused, striving to recall it. "But +that name was a secret, and another was used. He was known only as a +simple advocate--James, the name; I remember that for they told me it +was the English for Diego, which was amusing to me,--there is no sound +alike in them!" + +"That's true, there isn't," said Kit, who had no special interest in +any advocate named James. "But to get back to the man in the cell over +there and the ammunition, may I ask if he confided to you anything of +that place of storage? I mean Cavayso?" + +"No, senor; and for a reason of the best. He knows nothing, and all +his days and nights were spent searching secretly for the entrance to +that dungeon,--if it is a dungeon! He thought I should know, and made +threats against me because I would not tell. Myself, I think Jose +Perez tells no one that hiding place, not even Conrad, though Conrad +has long wanted it! I told Don Jose that if he told that he was as +good as a dead man, and I believe it. But now," and she shook her head +fatefully, "now he is sure to get it!" + +"But he swears he must get back to Soledad by sunrise for a trap is +set. A trap for whom?" persisted Kit. + +Dona Jocasta shook her head uncomprehendingly. + +"God forbid he should get free to put those wolves on my track; then +indeed I would need a knife, senor! He held them back from me on the +trail, but now he would not hold them back." + +"But the trap, senora?" repeated the puzzled Kit. "That man was in +earnest,--dead in earnest! He did not know I was listening, his words +were only for an Indian,--for Isidro. Who could he trap? Was he +expecting anyone at Soledad?" + +Dona Jocasta looked up with a little gasp of remembrance. + +"It is true, a courier did come two days ago from the south, and +Cavayso told me he meant to take me to the desert and hide me before +Don Jose arrived. Also more mules and wagons came in. And Elena +scolded about men who came to eat but not to work. Yes, they smoked, +and talked, and talked, and waited! I never thought of them except to +have a great fear. Yesterday after the lad brought me that letter I +had not one thought, but to count the hours, and watch the sun. But it +may be Cavayso told the truth, and that Don Jose was indeed coming. He +told me he had promised Perez to lose me in the Arroya Maldioso if in +no other way, and he had to manage that I never be seen again." + +"Arroya Maldioso?" repeated Kit, "I don't understand." + +"It is the great quicksand of Soledad, green things grow and blossom +there but no living thing can cross over. It is beautiful--that little +arroya, and very bad." + +"I had heard of it, but forgot," acknowledged Kit, "but that is not +the trap of which he is raving now. It is some other thing." + +Dona Jocasta did not know. She confessed that her mind was dark and +past thinking. The ways of Don Jose and Conrad were not easy for other +men of different lives to understand;--there was a great net of war +and scheming and barter, and Don Jose was snared in that net, and the +end no man could see! + +"Have you ever heard that Marto Cavayso was once a lieutenant of +General Rotil?" Kit asked. + +"The Deliverer!" she gasped, leaning forward and staring at him. A +deep flush went over her face and receded, leaving her as deathly pale +as when the bullet had been forced from the white shoulder. Her regard +was curious, for her brows were contracted and there was domination +and command in her eyes. "Why do you say this to me, senor? And why do +you think it?" + +Kit was astonished at the effect of his words, and quite as much +astonished to hear anyone of the Perez household refer to Rotil as +"the Deliverer." + +"Senora, if you saw him ride side by side with Rotil, drinking from +the same cup in the desert, would you not also think it?" + +Tula rose to her feet, and moved closer to Kit. + +"I too was seeing them together, senora," she said. "It was at the +Yaqui well; I drew the water, and they drank it. This man of the loud +curses is the man." + +Dona Jocasta covered her eyes with her hand, and she seemed shaken. No +one else spoke, and the silence was only broken by the muffled tones +of Marto in the cell, and the brief bark of Clodomiro's dog at the +corral. + +"God knows what may be moving forward," she said at last, "but there +is some terrible thing afoot. Take me to this man." + +"It may not be a pleasant thing to do," advised Kit. "This is a man's +game, senora, and his words might offend, for his rage is very great +against you." + +"Words!" she said with a note of disdain, and arose to her feet. She +swayed slightly, and Valencia steadied her, and begged her to wait +until morning, for her strength was gone and the night was late. + +"Peace, woman! Who of us is sure of a morning? This minute is all the +time that is ours, and--I must know." + +She leaned on Valencia as they crossed the patio, and Tula moved a +seat outside the door of Marto's room. Kit fastened a torch in the +holder of the brick pillar and opened the door without being seen, and +stood watching the prisoner. + +Marto Cavayso, who had been pleading with Isidro, whirled only to find +the barrel of another gun thrust through the carved grill in the top +of the door. + +"Isidro," said Kit, "this man is to answer questions of the senora. If +he is uncivil you can singe him with a bullet at your own will." + +"Many thanks, senor," returned Isidro promptly. "That is a pleasant +work to think of, for the talk of this shameless gentleman is poison +to the air." + +"You!" burst out Marto, pointing a hand at Jocasta in the corridor. +"You put witchcraft of hell on me, and wall me in here with an old +lunatic for guard, and now----" + +Bing! A bullet from Isidro's rifle whistled past Marto's ear and +buried itself in the adobe, scattering plaster and causing the +prisoner to crouch back in the corner. + +Jocasta regarded him as if waiting further speech, but none came. + +"That is better," she said. "No one wishes to do you harm, but you +need a lesson very badly. Now Marto Cavayso,--if that be your +name!--why did you carry me away? Was it your own doing, or were you +under orders of your General Rotil?" + +"I should have let the men have you," he muttered. "I was a bewitched +man, or you never would have traveled alive to see Soledad. Rotil? Do +not the handsome women everywhere offer him love and comradeship? +Would he risk a good man to steal a woman of whom Jose Perez is +tired?" + +"You are not the one to give judgment," said a strange voice outside +the barred window.--"That I did not send you to steal women is very +true, and the task I did send you for has been better done by other +men in your absence." + +Cavayso swore, and sat on the bed, his head in his hands. Outside the +window there were voices in friendly speech, that of Clodomiro very +clear as he told his grandfather the dogs did not bark but once, +because some of the Mesa Blanca boys were with the general, who was +wounded. + +Kit closed and bolted again the door of Cavayso, feeling that the +guardianship of beauty in Sonora involved a man in many awkward and +entangling situations. If it was indeed Rotil---- + +But a curious choking moan in the corridor caused him to turn quickly, +but not quickly enough. + +Dona Jocasta, who had been as a reed of steel against other dangers, +had risen to her feet as if for flight at sound of the voice, and she +crumpled down on the floor and lay, white as a dead woman, in a faint +so deep that even her heartbeat seemed stilled. + +Kit gathered her up, limp as a branch of willow, and preceded by Tula +with the torch, bore her back to the chamber prepared for her. +Valencia swept back the covers of the bed, and with many mutterings of +fear and ejaculations to the saints, proceeded to the work of +resuscitation. + +"To think that she came over that black road and held fast to a heart +of bravery,--and now at a word from the Deliverer, she falls dead in +fear! So it is with many who hear his name; yet he is not bad to his +friends. Every Indian in Sonora is knowing that," stated Valencia. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE HAWK OF THE SIERRAS + + +"That is what we get, Tula, by gathering beauty in distress into our +outfit," sighed Kit. "She seems good foundation for a civil war here. +Helen of Troy,--a lady of an eastern clan!--started a war on less, and +the cards are stacked against us if they start scrapping. When Mexican +gentry begin hostilities, the innocent bystander gets the worst of +it,--especially the Americano. So it is just as well the latest +Richard in the field does not know whose bullet hit him in the leg, +and brought his horse down." + +Tula, who since their entrance to the civilized surroundings of Mesa +Blanca, had apparently dropped all initiative, and was simply a little +Indian girl under orders, listened impassively to this curious +monologue. She evidently thought white people use many words for a +little meaning. + +"The Deliverer says will you graciously come?" she stated for the +second time. + +"Neither graciously, gracefully or gratefully, but I'll arrive," he +conceded. "His politeness sounds ominous. It is puzzling why I, a mere +trifle of an American ranch hand, should be given audience instead of +his distinguished lieutenant." + +"Isidro and Clodomiro are talking much with him, and the man Marto is +silent, needing no guard," said Tula. + +"Sure,--Rotil has the whole show buffaloed. Well, let's hope, child, +that he is not a mind reader, for we have need of all the ore we +brought out, and can't spare any for revolutionary subscriptions." + +Kit followed Tula into the _sala_ where a rawhide cot had been placed, +and stretched on it was the man of Yaqui Spring. + +One leg of his trousers was ripped up, and there was the odor of a +greasewood unguent in the room. Isidro was beside him, winding a +bandage below the knee. A yellow silk banda around the head of Rotil +was stained with red. + +But he had evidently been made comfortable, for he was rolling a +cigarette and was calling Isidro "doctor." Two former vaqueros of Mesa +Blanca were there, and they nodded recognition to Kit. Rotil regarded +him with a puzzled frown, and then remembered, and waved his hand in +salute. + +"Good day, senor, we meet again!" he said. "I am told that you are my +host and the friend of Senor Whitely. What is it you do here? Is it +now a prison, or a hospital for unfortunates?" + +"Only a hospital for you, General, and I trust a serviceable one," Kit +hastened to assure him. "More of comfort might have been yours had you +sent a courier to permit of preparation." + +"The service is of the best," and Rotil pointed to Isidro. "I've a +mind to take him along, old as he is! The boys told me he was the best +medico this side the range, and I believe it. As to courier," and he +grinned, "I think you had one, if you had read the message right." + +"The surprises of the night were confusing, and a simple man could not +dare prophesy what might follow," said Kit, who had drawn up a chair +and easily fell into Rotil's manner of jest. "But I fancy if that +courier had known who would follow after, he would have spent the +night by preference at Soledad." + +"Sure he would,--hell's fire shrivel him! That shot of his scraped a +bone for me, and put my horse out of business. For that reason we came +on quietly, and these good fellows listened at the window of Marto +before they carried me in. It is a good joke on me. My men rounded up +Perez and his German slaver at Soledad today--yesterday now!--and when +we rode up the little canon to be in at the finish what did we see but +an escape with a woman? Some word had come my way of a Perez woman +there, and only one thought was with me, that the woman had helped +Perez out of the trap as quickly as he had ridden into it! After that +there was nothing to do but catch them again. No thought came to me +that Marto might be stealing a woman for himself, the fool! Perez made +better time than we figured on, and is a day ahead. Marto meant to +hide the woman and get back in time. It's a great joke that an +Americano took the woman from him. I hope she is worth the trouble," +and he smiled, lifting his brows questioningly. + +"So that was the 'trap' that Marto raved and stormed to get back to?" +remarked Kit. "I am still in the dark, though there are some glimmers +of light coming. If Marto knew of that trap it explains----" + +"There were three others of my men on the Soledad rancho, drawing pay +from Perez. It is the first time that fox came in when we could spread +the net tight. To get him at another place would not serve so well, +for if Soledad was the casket of our treasure, at Soledad we make a +three strike,--the cattle, the ammunition, and Perez there to show the +hiding place! It is the finish of four months' trailing, and is worth +the time, and but for Marto running loco over a girl, there would have +been a beautiful quiet finish at Soledad ranch house last night." + +"But, if your men have Perez----" + +"Like that!" and Rotil stretched out his open hand, and closed it +significantly, with a cruel smile in his black, swift-glancing eyes. +"This time there is no mistake. For over a week men and stout mules +have been going in;--it is a _conducta_ and it is to take the +ammunition. Well, senor, it is all well managed for me; also we have +much need of that ammunition for our own lads." + +"And it was done without a fight?" asked Kit. "I have heard that the +men picked for Soledad were not the gentlest band Senor Perez could +gather." + +"We had their number," said Rotil placidly. "Good men enough, but with +their cartridges doctored what could they do? I sent in two machine +guns, and they were not needed. A signal smoke went up to show me all +was well, and in another minute I heard the horses of Marto and his +girl. He must have started an hour before Perez arrived. It is a trick +of Don Jose's that no one can count on his engagements, but this time +every hill had its sentinels for his trail, not anything was left to +chance." + +"And your accident?" asked Kit politely. + +"Oh, I was setting my own guards at every pass when the runaway woman +and men caught my ear and we took a short cut down the little canon to +head them off. I knew they would make for here, and that houses were +not plenty--" he smiled as if well satisfied with the knowledge. "So, +as this was a friendly house it would be a safe bet to keep on +coming." He blew rings of smoke from the cigarette, and chuckled. + +"The boys will think a quicksand has swallowed us, and no one will be +sleeping there at Soledad." + +"Is there anything I can do to be of service," asked Kit. "I have a +good room and a bed----" + +But the chuckling of Rotil broke into a frank laugh. + +"No, senor!" he said with humorous decision, watching Kit as he spoke, +"already I have been told of your great kindness in the giving of beds +and rooms of comfort. Why, with a house big enough, you could jail all +the district of Altar! Not my head for a noose!" + +Kit laughed awkwardly at the jest which was based on fact, but he met +the keen eyes of Rotil very squarely. + +"The Indians no doubt told you the reason the jail was needed?" he +said. "If a girl picks a man to take a trail with, that is her own +affair and not mine, but if a girl with chains on her wrists has to +watch men throwing dice for her, and is forced to go with the +winner--well--the man who would not help set her free needs a dose of +lead. That is our American way, and no doubt is yours, senor." + +"Sure! Let a woman pick her own, if she can find him!" agreed Rotil, +and then he grinned again as he looked at Kit. "And, senor, it is a +safe bet that this time she'll find him!--you are a good big mark, +not easily hidden." + +The other men smiled and nodded at the humor of their chief, and +regarded Kit with appreciative sympathy. It was most natural of course +for them to suppose that if he took a woman from Marto, he meant to +win her for himself. + +Kit smiled back at them, and shook his head. + +"No such luck for a poor vaquero," he confessed. "The lady is in +mourning, and much grief. She is like some saint of sorrows in a +priest's tale, and----" + +"The priests are liars, and invented hell," stated Rotil. + +"That may be, but sometimes we see sad women of prayers who look like +the saints the priests tell about,--and to have such women sold by a +gambler is not good to hear of." + +No one spoke for a little. The eyes of Rotil closed in a curious, +contemptuous smile. + +"You are young, boy," he said at last, "and even we who are not so +young are often fooled by women. Trust any woman of the camp rather +than the devout saints of the shrines. All are for market,--but you +pay most for the saint, and sorrow longest for her. And you never +forget that the shrine is empty!" + +His tone was mocking and harsh, but Kit preferred to ignore the sudden +change of manner for which there seemed no cause. + +"Thanks for the warning, General, and no saints for me!" he said good +naturedly. "Now, is there any practical thing I can do to add to your +comfort here? Any plans for tomorrow?" + +"A man of mine is already on the way to Soledad, and we will sleep +before other plans are made. Not even Marto will I see tonight, +knowing well that you have seen to his comfort!" and he chuckled again +at the thought of Marto in his luxurious trap. "My lads will do guard +duty in turn, and we sleep as we are." + +"Then, if I can be of no service----" + +"Tomorrow perhaps, not tonight, senor. Some sleep will do us no +harm." + +"Then good night, and good rest to you, General." + +"Many thanks, and good night, Don Pajarito." + +Kit laughed at that sally, and took himself out of the presence. It +was plain that the Deliverer had obtained only the most favorable +account of Kit as the friend of Whitely. And as an American lad who +sang songs, and protected even women he did not know, he could not +appear formidable to Rotil's band, and certainly not in need of +watching. + +He looked back at them as the general turned on his side to sleep, and +one of his men blew out the two candles, and stationed themselves +outside the door. As he noted the care they took in guarding him, and +glanced at the heavy doors and barred windows, he had an uncomfortable +thrill at the conviction that it would serve as a very efficient +prison for himself if his new friends, the revolutionists, ever +suspected he held the secret of the red gold of El Alisal. It was a +bit curious that the famous lost mine of the old mission had never +really been "lost" at all! + +Isidro, looking very tired, had preceded him from the _sala_, as Kit +supposed to go to bed. The day and night had been trying to the old +man, and already it was the small hours of a new day. + +There was a dim light in the room of Dona Jocasta, but no sound. Tula +was curled up on a blanket outside her door like a young puppy on +guard. He stooped and touched her shoulder. + +"The senora?" he whispered. + +"Asleep, after tears, and a sad heart!" she replied. "Valencia thanks +the saints that at last she weeps,--the beautiful sad one!" + +"That is well; go you also to sleep. Your friends keep guard +tonight." + +She made no reply, and he passed on along the corridor to his own +rooms. The door was open, and he was about to strike a light when a +hand touched his arm. He drew back, reaching for his gun. + +"What the devil----" + +"Senor," whispered Isidro, "make no light, and make your words in +whispers." + +"All right. What's on your mind?" + +"The senora and the Deliverer. Know you not, senor, that she is sick +with shame? It is so. No man has told him who the woman is he calls +yours. All are afraid, senor. It is said that once Ramon Rotil was +content to be a simple man with a wife of his own choosing, but luck +was not his. It was the daughter of a priest in the hills, and Jose +Perez took her!" + +"Ah-h!" breathed Kit. "If it should be this one----" + +"It is so,--she went like a dead woman at his voice, but he does not +know. How should he, when Don Jose has women beyond count? Senor, my +Valencia promised Dona Jocasta you would save her from meeting the +general. That promise was better than a sleeping drink of herbs to +her. Now that the promise is made, how will you make it good?" + +"Holy smoke--also incense--also the pipe!" muttered Kit in the dark. +"If I live to get out of this muddle I'll swear off all entangling +alliances forevermore! Come into the kitchen where we can have a +fire's light. I can't think in this blackness." + +They made their way to the kitchen, and started a blaze with mesquite +bark. The old Indian cut off some strips of burro _jerke_ and threw +them on the coals. + +"That is better, it's an occupation anyway," conceded Kit chewing with +much relish. "Now, Isidro, man, you must go on. You know the land +best. How is one to hide a woman of beauty from desert men?" + +"She may have a plan," suggested Isidro. + +"Where is Clodomiro?" asked Kit, suddenly recalling that the boy had +disappeared. The old man did not answer; he was very busy with the +fire, and when the question was repeated he shook his head. + +"I do not know who went. If Tula did not go, then Clodomiro was the +one. They were talking about it." + +"Talking,--about what?" + +"About the German. He is caught at Soledad, and must not be let go, or +let die. All the Indians of Palomitas will be asking the Deliverer for +that man." + +"Isidro, what is it they want to do with him?" asked Kit, and the old +Indian ceased fussing around with a stick in the ashes, and looked up, +sinister and reproving. + +"That, senor, is a question a man does not ask. If my woman tells me +the women want a man for Judas, I--get that man! I ask nothing." + +"Good God! And that child, Tula--" began Kit in consternation, and old +Isidro nodded his head. + +"It is Tula who asked. She is proving she is a woman; Clodomiro goes +for her because that is his work. Your white way would be a different +way,--of an alcalde and the word of many witness. Our women have their +own way, and no mistake is made." + +"But Rotil, the general,--he will not permit----" + +"Senor, for either mother or grandmother the general had an Indian +woman. He has the knowing of these things. I think Tula gets the man +they ask for. She is wise, that child! A good woman will be chosen to +have speech with the Deliverer--when they come." + +"There is a thought in that," mused Kit, glancing sharply at the old +man. "Do they make choice of some wise woman, to be speaker for the +others? And they come here?" + +"That is how it is, senor." + +"Then, what better way to hide Dona Jocasta than to place her among +Indian women who come in a band for that task? Many women veil and +shroud their heads in black as she does. The music of her voice was +dulled when she spoke to Marto, and General Rotil had no memory of +having ever heard it. Think,--is there to be found an old dress of +your wife? Can it be done and trust no one? Dona Jocasta is clever +when her fear is gone. With Tula away from that door the rest is easy. +The dawn is not so far off." + +"Dawn is the time the women of Palomitas will take the road," decided +Isidro, "for by the rising time of the sun the Deliverer has said that +his rest here is ended, and he goes on to Soledad where Jose Perez +will have a trembling heart of waiting." + +"Will they tell him whose trap he is caught in?" + +"Who knows? The Deliverer has plans of his own making. It was not for +idleness he was out of sight when the trap was sprung. He sleeps +little, does Ramon Rotil!" + +In a mesquite tree by the cook house chickens began to crow a +desultory warning. And Isidro proceeded to subtract stealthily a skirt +and shawl from wooden pegs set in the adobe wall where Valencia slept. +She startled him by stirring, and making weary inquiry as to whether +it was the time. + +"Not yet, my treasure, that fighting cock of Clodomiro crows only +because of a temper, and not for day. It is I will make the fire and +set Maria to the grinding. Go you to your sleep." + +Which Valencia was glad to do, while her holiday wardrobe, a purple +skirt bordered with green, and a deeply fringed black shawl, was +confiscated for the stranger within their gates. + +Thrusting the bundle back of an olla in the corridor he touched Tula +on the shoulder. + +"The senor waits you in the kitchen," he muttered in the Indian +tongue, and she arose without a word, and went silent as a snake along +the shadowy way. + +It took courage for Isidro to enter alone the room of Dona Jocasta, as +that was the business of a woman. But Kit had planned that, if +discovered, the girl should apparently have no accomplices. This +would protect Tula and Valencia should Rotil suspect treachery if an +occupant of the house should disappear. It would seem most natural +that a stolen woman would seek to escape homeward when not guarded, +and that was to serve as a reasonable theory. + +She slept with occasional shuddering sighs, as a child after sobbing +itself to sleep. That sad little sound gave the old Indian confidence +in his errand. It might mean trouble, but she had dared trouble ere +now. And there could not be continual sorrow for one so beautiful, and +this might be the way out! + +She woke with a startled cry as he shook her bed, but it was quickly +smothered as he whispered her name. + +"It is best you go to pray in the chapel room, and meet there the +women of Palomitas. Others will go to pray for a Judas; among many you +may be hidden." + +She patted his arm, and arose in the dark, slipping on her clothes. He +gave her the skirt and she donned that over her own dress. Her teeth +were chattering with nervous excitement, and when she had covered +herself with the great shawl, her hand went out gropingly to him to +lead her. + +As they did not pass the door of the _sala_, no notice was given them +by Rotil's guard. Mexican women were ever at early prayers, or at the +_metate_ grinding meal for breakfast, and that last possibility was +ever welcome to men on a trail. + +In the kitchen Kit Rhodes was seeking information concerning Clodomiro +from Tula, asking if it was true he would fetch the women of Palomitas +to petition Rotil. + +"Maybe so," she conceded, "but that work is not for a mind of a white +man. Thus I am not telling you Clodomiro is the one to go; his father +was what you call a priest,--but not of the church," she said hastily, +"no, of other things." + +Looking at her elfin young face in the flickering light of the hearth +fire, he had a realization of vast vistas of "other things" leading +backward in her inherited tendencies, the things known by his young +comrade but not for the mind of a white man,--not even for the man +whom Miguel had trusted with the secret of El Alisal. Gold might +occasionally belong to a very sacred shrine, but even sacred gold was +not held so close in sanctuary as certain ceremonies dear to the +Indian thought. Without further words Kit Rhodes knew that there were +locked chambers in the brain of his young partner, and to no white man +would be granted the key. + +"Well, since he has gone for them, there is nothing to say, though the +general may be ill pleased at visitors," hazarded Kit. "Also you and I +know why we should keep all the good will coming our way, and risk +none of it on experiments. Go you back to your rest since there is not +anything to be done. Clodomiro is at Palomitas by now, and you may as +well sleep while the dawn is coming." + +She took the strip of roasted meat he offered her, and went back to +her blanket on the tiles at the door of the now empty room. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE "JUDAS" PRAYER AT MESA BLANCA + + +Isidro was right when he said Ramon Rotil slept but little, for the +very edge of the dawn was scarce showing in the east when he opened +his eyes, moved his wounded leg stiffly, and then lay there peering +between half-shut eyelids at the first tint of yellow in the sky. + +"Chappo," he said curtly, "look beyond through that window. Is it a +band of horses coming down the mesa trail, or is it men?" + +"Neither, my General, it is the women who are left of the rancherias +of Palomitas. They come to do a prayer service at an old altar here. +Once Mesa Blanca was a great hacienda with a chapel for the peons, and +they like to come. It is a custom." + +"What saint's day is this?" + +"I am not wise enough, General, to remember all;--our women tell us." + +"Um!--saint's day unknown, and all a pueblo on a trail to honor it! +Call Fidelio." + +There was a whistle, a quick tread, and one of the men of Palomitas +stood in the door. + +"Take two men and search every woman coming for prayers--guns have +been carried under _serapes_." + +"But, General----" + +"Search every woman,--even though your own mother be of them!" + +"General, my own mother is already here, and on her knees beyond there +in the altar room. They pray for heart to ask of you their rights in +Soledad." + +"That is some joke, and it is too early in the morning for jokes with +me. I'm too empty. What have Palomitas women to do with rights in +Soledad?" + +"I have not been told," said Fidelio evasively. "It is a woman matter. +But as to breakfast, it is making, and the _tortillas_ already baking +for you." + +"Order all ready, and a long stirrup for that leg," said the general, +moving it about experimentally. "It is not so bad, but Marto can ride +fasting to Soledad for giving it to me." + +"But, my General, he asks----" + +"Who is he to ask? After yesterday, silence is best for him. +Take him along. I will decide later if he is of further use--I +may--need--a--man!" + +There was something deliberately threatening in his slow speech, and +the guards exchanged glances. Without doubt there would be executions +at Soledad! + +Rotil got off the cot awkwardly, but disdaining help from the guards +hopped to a chair against the wall between the two windows. + +Isidro came in with a bowl of water, and a much embroidered towel for +the use of the distinguished guest, followed by a vaquero with smoking +_tortillas_, and Tula with coffee. + +The general eyed the ornate drawnwork of the linen with its cobweb +fingers, and grinned. + +"I am not a bridegroom this morning, _muchachita_, and need no necktie +of such fineness for my beauty. Bring a plainer thing, or none." + +Tula's eyes lit up with her brief smile of approval. + +"I am telling them you are a man and want no child things, my +General," she stated firmly, "and now it proves itself! On the instant +the right thing comes." + +She darted out the door, bumping into Rhodes, and without even the +customary "with your permission" ran past him along the corridor, and, +suddenly cautious, yet bold, she lifted the latch of the guest room +where she had seen what looked to her like wealth of towels,--and felt +sure Dona Jocasta would not miss one of the plainest. + +Stealthy as a cat she circled the bed, scarce daring to glance at it +lest the lady wake and look reproach on her. + +But she stepped on some hard substance on the rug by the wooden bench +where the towels hung, and stooping, she picked it up, a little wooden +crucifix, once broken, and then banded with silver to hold it solid. +The silver was beautifully wrought and very delicate, surely the +possession of a lady, and not a thing let fall by chance from the +pocket of Valencia. + +Tula turned to lay it carefully on the pillow beside the senora, and +then stared at the vacant bed. + +Only an instant she halted and thrust her hand under the cover. + +"Cold,--long time cold!" she muttered, and with towel and crucifix she +sped back to the _sala_ where Rotil was joking concerning the +compliment she paid him. + +"Don't make dandies of yourselves if you would make good with a +woman," he said. "Even that little crane of a _muchacha_ has +brain,--and maybe heart for a man! She has boy sense." + +Kit, seeing her dart into the guest room, stood in his tracks watching +for her to emerge. She gave him one searching curious look as she sped +past, and he realized in a flash that his glance should have been +elsewhere, or at least more casual. + +She delivered the towel and retired, abashed and silent at the jests +of the man she regarded with awe as the god-sent deliverer of her +people. Once in the corridor she looked into Valencia's room, then in +the kitchen where Valencia and Maria and other women were hastening +breakfast, and last she sought Clodomiro at the corral. + +"Where did you take her, and how?" she demanded, and the youth, tired +with the endless rides and tasks of two days and nights, was surly, +and looked his impatience. "She, and she, and she! Always women!" he +grumbled. "Have I not herded all of them from over the mesa at your +order? Is one making a slow trail, and must I go herding again?" + +She did not answer, but looked past him at the horses. + +"Which did the senora ride from Soledad?" she inquired, and Clodomiro +pointed out a mare of shining black, and also a dark bay ridden by +Marto. + +"Trust him to take the best of the saddle herd," he remarked. "Why +have you come about it? Is the senora wanting that black?" + +"Maybe so; I was not told," she answered evasively. "But there is +early breakfast, and it is best to get your share before some quick +task is set,--and this day there are many tasks." + +The women were entering the portal at the rear, because the chapel of +the old hacienda was at the corner. There was considerable commotion +as Fidelio enforced the order to search for arms;--if the Deliverer +suspected treachery, how could they hope for the sympathy they came to +beg for? + +"Tell him there is nothing hidden under our rags but hearts of +sorrow," said the mother of Fidelio. "Ask that he come here where we +kneel to give God thanks that El Aleman is now in the power of the +Deliverer." + +"General Rotil does not walk, and there is no room for a horse in this +door. Someone of you must speak for the others, and go where he is." + +The kneeling women looked at each other with troubled dark eyes. + +"Valencia will be the best one," said an old woman. "She lost no one +by the pale beast, but she knows us every one. Marta, who was wife of +Miguel, was always mother and spoke for us to the padre, or anyone, +but Marta----" + +She paused and shook her head; some women wept. All knew Marta was one +who cried to them for vengeance. + +"That is true," said Valencia. "Marta was the best, but the child of +Marta is here, and knows more than we. She has done much,--more than +many women. I think the daughter can speak best for the mother, and +that the Deliverer will listen." + +Tula had knelt like the others, facing a little shelf on the wall +where a carven saint was dimly illuminated by the light of a candle. +All the room was very dark, for the dawn was yet but as a gray cloak +over the world, and no window let in light. + +The girl stood up and turned toward Valencia. + +"I will go," she said, "because it is my work to go when you speak, +but the Deliverer will ask for older tongues and I will come back to +tell you that." + +Without hesitation she walked out of the door, and the others +bent their heads and there was the little click-click of rosary +beads, slipping through their fingers in the dusk. Among the many +black-shawled huddled figures kneeling on the hard tiles, none +noticed the one girl in the corner where shadows were deepest, +and whose soft slender hands were muffled in Valencia's fringes. + +Kit stood until he noted that the searching for arms did not include +her, and then crossed the patio with Fidelio on his way to the +corrals. If the black mare of Dona Jocasta could be gotten to the rear +portal, together with the few burros of the older women, she might +follow after unnoticed. The adobe wall at the back was over ten feet +high and would serve as a shield, and the entire cavalcade would be a +half mile away ere they came in range from the plaza. + +He planned to manage that the mare be there without asking help of any +Indian, and he thought he could do it while the guard was having +breakfast. It would be easy for them to suppose that the black was his +own. Thus scheming for beauty astray in the desert, he chatted with +Fidelio concerning the pilgrimage of the Palomitas women, and the +possibility of Rotil's patience with them, when Tula crossed the patio +hurriedly and entered the door of the _sala_. + +The general was finishing his breakfast, while Isidro was crouched +beside him rewinding the bandage after a satisfactory inspection of +the wound. The swelling was not great, and Rotil, eating cheerfully, +was congratulating himself on having made a straight trail to the +physician of Mesa Blanca; it was worth a lost day to have the healing +started right. + +He was in that complacent mood when Tula sped on silent bare feet +through the _sala_ portal, and halted just inside, erect against the +wall, gazing at him. + +"Hola! _Nina_ who has the measure of a man! The coffee was of the +best. What errand is now yours?" + +"Excellency, it is the errand too big for me, yet I am the one sent +with it. They send me because the mother of me, and Anita, my sister, +were in the slave drive south, and the German and the Perez men +carried whips and beat the women on that trail." + +Her brave young heart seemed to creep up in her throat and choke her +at thought of those whips and the women who were driven, for her voice +trembled into silence, and she stood there swallowing, her head bent, +and her hands crossed over her breast, and clasped firmly there was +the crucifix she had found in the guest room. Little pagan that she +was, she regarded it entirely as a fetish of much potency with white +people, and surely she needed help of all gods when she spoke for the +whole pueblo to this man who had power over many lives. + +Rotil stared at her, frowning and bewildered. + +"What the devil,--" he began, but Isidro looked up at him and nodded +assent. + +"It is a truth she is telling, Excellency. Her father was Miguel, +once major-domo of this rancho. He died from their fight, and his +women were taken." + +"Oh, yes, that!--it happens in many states. But this German--who says +the German and Perez were the men to do it?" + +"I, Tula, child of Miguel, say it," stated the girl. "With my eyes I +saw him,--with my ears I heard the sister call out his name. The name +was Don Adolf. Over his face was tied a long beard, so! But it was the +man,--the friend of Don Jose Perez of Soledad; all are knowing that. +He is now your man, and the women ask for him." + +"What women?" + +"All the women of Palomitas. On their knees in the chapel they make +prayers. Excellency, it robs you of nothing that you give them a Judas +for Holy Week. I am sent to ask that of the Deliverer." + +She slid down to her knees on the tiles, and looked up at him. + +He stared at her, frowning and eyeing her intently, then chuckled, and +grinned at the others. + +"Did I not tell you she had the heart of a boy? And now you see it! +Get up off your knees, _chiquita_. Why should you want a Judas? It is +a sweetheart I must find for you instead." + +"I am not getting up," said Tula stolidly. "I am kneeling before you, +my General. See! I pray to you on the tiles for that Judas. All the +women are praying. Also the old women have made medicine to send El +Aleman once more on this trail, and see you,--it has come to pass! You +have him in your trap, but he is ours. Excellency, come once and see +all the women on their knees before the saint as I am here by you. We +make prayers for one thing:--the Judas for our holy day!" + +"You young devil!" he grinned. "I wish you were a boy. Here, you men +help me, or get me a crutch. I will see these women on their knees, +and if you don't lie----" + +With the help of Fidelio and a cane, he started very well, and nodded +to Kit. + +"You pick well, amigo," he observed. "She is a wildcat, and of +interest. Come you and see. _Por Dios!_ I've seen a crucifixion of the +Penitentes and helped dig the hidden grave. Also I have heard of the +'Judas' death on Holy Friday, but never before this has so young a +woman creature picked a man for it,--a man alive! Courage of the +devil!" + +Tula arose, and went before them across the plaza to the door of the +chapel. Kit knew this was the right moment for him to disappear and +get the black mare back of the wall, but Rotil kept chuckling to him +over the ungirlish request, and so pointedly included him in the party +that there seemed no excuse available for absenting himself. + +A flush of rose swept upward to the zenith heralding the sun, but in +the adobe room, with its door to the west, no light came, except by +dim reflection, and as Tula entered and the men stood at the +threshold, they blocked the doorway of even that reflection, and the +candle at the saint's shrine shone dimly over the bent heads of the +kneeling women. + +Rotil stood looking about questioningly; he had not expected to see +so many. Then at the sound of the click of the prayer beads, some +recollection of some past caused him to automatically remove his +wide-brimmed hat. + +"Mothers," said Tula quietly, "the Deliverer has come." + +There was a half-frightened gasp, and dark faces turned toward the +door. + +"He comes as I told you, because I am no one by myself, and he could +not know I was sent by you. I am not anyone among people, and he does +not believe. Only people of importance should speak with a soldier who +is a general." + +"No, _por Dios_, my boy, you speak well!" said Rotil, clapping his +hand on her shoulder, "but your years are not many and it cannot be +you know the thing you ask for." + +"I know it," asserted Tula with finality. + +An old woman got up stiffly, and came towards him. "We are very poor, +yet even our children are robbed from us--that is why we pray. Don +Ramon, your mother was simple as we, and had heart for the poor. Our +lives are wasted for the masters, and our women children are stolen +for the sons of masters. That is done, and we wish they may find ways +to kill themselves on the trail. But the man who drove them with whips +is now your man--and we mothers ask him of you." + +The wizened old creature trembled as she spoke, and scarce lifted her +eyes. She made effort to speak further, but words failed, and she +slipped to her knees and the beads slid from her nervous fingers to +the tiles. She was very old, and she had come fasting across the mesa +in the chill before the dawn; her two grandchildren had been driven +south with the slaves--one had been a bride but a month--and they +killed her man as they took her. + +Valencia came to her and wiped the tears from her cheeks, patting her +on the back as one would soothe a child, and then she looked at Rotil, +nodding her head meaningly, and spoke. + +"It is all true as Tia Tomasa is saying, senor. Her children are gone, +and this child of Capitan Miguel knows well what she asks for. The +days of the sorrows of Jesus are coming soon, and the Judas we want +for that day of the days will not be made of straw to be bound on the +wild bull's back, and hung when the ride is over. No, senor, we know +the Judas asked of you by this daughter of Miguel;--it is the pale +beast called El Aleman. For many, many days have we made prayers like +this, before every shrine, that the saints would send him again to our +valley. You, senor, have brought answer to that prayer. You have him +trapped, but he belongs only to us women. The saints listened to us, +and you are in it. Men often are in prayers like that, and have no +knowing of it, senor." + +Kit listened in amazement to this account of prayers to Mexican saints +for a Judas to hang on Good Friday! After four centuries of foreign +priesthood, and foreign saints on the shrines, the mental effect on +the aborigines had not risen above crucifixion occasionally on some +proxy for their supreme earthly god, or mad orgies of vengeance on a +proxy for Judas. The great drama of Calvary had taught them only new +forms of torture and the certainty that vengeance was a debt to be +paid. Conrad was to them the pale beast whipping women into +slavery,--and as supreme traitor to human things must be given a Judas +death! + +He shivered as he listened, and looked at the eyes of women staring +out of the dusk for the answer to their prayers. + +"_Por Dios!_" muttered Rotil, half turning to Kit, yet losing nothing +of the pleading strained faces. "Does your head catch all of that, +senor? Can't women beat hell? And women breed us all! What's the +answer?" + +"In this case it's up to you, General," replied Kit. "I'm glad the +responsibility is not mine. Even as it is, women who look like these +are likely to walk through my dreams for many a night!" + +Rotil gloomed at them, puzzled, frowning, and at times the flicker of +a doubtful smile would change his face without lighting it. No one +moved or spoke. + +"Here!" he said at last, "this child and two women have spoken, but +there are over twenty of you here. Three out of twenty is no +vote--hold up your hands. Come, don't hang back, or you won't get +Judas! There are no priests here, and no spies for priests, and there +have been words enough. Show your hands!" + +Kit looked back into the darkest corner, wondering what the vote of +Jocasta would be; her mother was said to be Indian, or half Indian, +and her hatred of the German would help her understand these darker +tribal sisters. + +But in the many lifted hands her own could not be seen and he felt +curiously relieved, though it was no affair of his, and one vote +either way would weigh nothing. + +Rotil looked at the lifted hands, and grunted. + +"You win, _muchacha_," he said to Tula. "I think you're the devil, and +it's you made the women talk. You can come along to Soledad and fetch +their Judas back to them." + +"My thanks to you, and my service, Excellency," said Tula. "I will go +and be glad that I go for that. But I swear by the Body and Blood, and +I swear on this, that I only pay the debt of my people to El Aleman." + +She was helping old Tia Tomasa to her feet with one hand, and held up +the little crucifix to him with the other. She had noted that white +people make oath on a cross when they want to be believed, and she +wished with all her pagan heart to be believed by this man who had +been a sort of legendary hero to her many months before she had seen +his face, or dared hope he would ever grant favor to her--Tula! + +But whatever effect she hoped to secure by emphasizing her oath on the +Christian symbol, she was not prepared for the rough grasp on her arm, +or the harsh command of his voice. + +"Holy God!" he growled, "why do you thrust that in my face,--you?" + +"Excellency--I--" began Tula, but he shook her as a cat would shake a +mouse. + +"Answer me! How comes it in your hands?" + +"I found it, senor--and did no harm." + +"When? Where?" + +"Why--I--I----" + +A note of warning flashed from some wireless across the girl's mind, +for it was no little thing by which Ramon Rotil had suddenly become a +growling tiger with his hand near her throat. + +"Where?" he repeated. + +"On a trail, senor." + +"When?" + +"Three days ago." + +"Where?" + +"At the place where the Soledad trail leaves that of Mesa Blanca." + +Rotil stared at her, and then turned to Kit. + +"Do you know of this thing?" + +"No, General, I don't," he said honestly enough, "but these women have +many such----" + +"No," contradicted Rotil, "they haven't,--there's a difference." + +He had seized the crucifix and held it, while he scanned the faces, +and then brought his gaze back to Tula. + +"You will show me that place, and prove yourself, _muchacha_," he said +grimly. "There's something--something--Do you know, you damned young +crane, that I can have my men shoot you against the wall out there if +you lie to me?" + +"Yes, my General, but it is better to give lead to enemies--and not +friends. Also a knife is cheaper." + +"Silence! or you may get both!" he growled. "Here, look well--you--all +of you! Have any of you but this creature seen it?" + +He held it out, and Valencia, who was nearest, caught sight of it. + +"Ai! Tula!" she said in reproof, "you to take that when the poor----" + +Tula flashed one killing look at her, and Valencia stopped dead, and +turned an ashen gray, and Rotil watching! + +"Ah--ha! I thought it!" he jeered. "Now whose trick is it to make me a +fool? Come, sift this thing! You," to Valencia, "have looked on this +before. Whose is it?" + +"Senor--I----" + +"So!" he said with a sort of growl in the voice, "something chokes +you? Look at me, not at the others! Also listen:--if a lie is told to +me, every liar here will go before a firing squad. Whose is this +crucifix?" + +Valencia's eyes looked sorrow on Tula, still under his hand, and then +on the wood and silver thing held up before her. The sun was just +rolling hot and red above the mountains, and Rotil's shaggy head was +outlined in a sort of curious radiance as the light struck the white +wall across the patio at his back. Even the silver of the crucifix +caught a glimmer of it, and to Valencia he looked like the warrior +padres of whom her grandmother used to tell, who would thunder hell's +terrors on the frightened neophytes until the bravest would grovel in +the dust and do penances unbelievable. + +That commanding picture came between her and Rotil,--the outlaw and +soldier and patriot. She stumbled forward with a pleading gesture +towards Tula. + +"Excellency, the child does no harm. She is a stranger in the house. +She has picked it up perhaps when lost by the senora, and----" + +"What senora?" + +"She who is most sorrowful guest here, Excellency, and her arms still +bruised from the iron chains of El Aleman." + +"And her name?" + +"Excellency, it is the woman saved from your man by the Americano +senor here beside you. And,--she asked to be nameless while sheltered +at Mesa Blanca." + +"But not to me! So this is a game between you two--" and he looked +from Tula to Kit with sinister threat in his eyes, "it is then _your_ +woman who----" + +"Ramon--no!" said a voice from the far shadows, and the black shawled +figure stood erect and cast off the muffling disguise. Her pale face +shone like a star above all the kneeling Indians. + +"God of heaven!" he muttered, and his hand fell from the shoulder of +Tula. "You--_you_ are one of the women who knelt here for vengeance?" + +"For justice," she said, "but I was here for a reason different;--it +was a place to hide. No one helped me, let the child go! Give these +women what they ask or deny them, but send them away. To them I am +nameless and unknown. You can see that even my presence is a thing of +fear to them,--let them go!" + +He stared at her across those frightened dark faces. It was true they +drew away from her in terror; her sudden uprising was as if she had +materialized from the cold tiles of the chapel floor. Kit noted that +their startled eyes were wide with awe, and knew that they also felt +they were gazing on a beauty akin to that of the pictured saints. Even +the glimmer of the candle touching her perfect cheek and brow added to +the unearthly appearance there in the shadows. + +But Ramon Rotil gazed at her across a wider space than that marked by +the kneeling Indian women! Four years were bridged by that look, and +where the others saw a pale Madonna, he saw a barefooted child weaving +flowers of the mountain for a shrine where poverty prevented a +candle. + +He had sold maize to buy candles, and shoes for her feet, and she had +given him the little brown wooden crucifix. + +Once in the height of her reign of beauty in the hacienda of Perez, a +ragged brown boy from the hills had lain in wait for her under the +oleanders, and thrust a tightly bound package of corn husks into her +hand, and her maid regarded with amazement the broken fragments of a +wooden cross so poor and cheap that even the most poverty stricken of +the peons could own one, and her wonder was great that her mistress +wept over the broken pieces and strove to fit them together again. + +And now it lay in his hand, bound and framed in silver wires +delicately wrought. + +He had traveled farther than she during the years between, and the +memento of the past made him know it. + +"Ramon, let them go!" she repeated with gentle appeal. + +"Yes," he said, taking a deep breath as if rousing from a trance, +"that is best. Child--see to it, and have your way. Senor, will you +arrange that the senora has what comfort there is here? Our horses +wait, and work waits----" + +He saw Valencia go with protecting, outstretched hands to Jocasta, and +turned away. + +Jocasta never moved. To save her friends from his rage she had spoken, +and to her the big moment of humiliation dreamed of and feared had +come and been lived through. He had seen her on her knees among all +that brown herd made up of such women as his mother and her mother had +been. From mistress of a palace on an estate large as many European +kingdoms she had become an outcast with marks of fetters on her arms, +while he was knelt to as a god by the simple people of the ranges, and +held power of life and death over a wide land! + +Kit could not even guess at all the tempestuous background of the +drama enacted there in the chill of the chapel at sunrise, but the +clash of those two outlaw souls suddenly on guard before each other, +thrilled him by the unexpected. Rotil, profane, ruthless, and jeering, +had suddenly grown still before the face of a woman from whom he +turned away. + +"Late! An hour late!" he grumbled, hobbling back to the plaza. "What +did I tell you? Hell of women! Well, your damned little crane got what +she started after--huh! Why did she lie?" + +"Well, you know, General," said Kit doubtfully, "that the enmity +between you and Jose Perez is no secret. Even the children talk of it, +and wish success to you--I've heard that one do it! Dona Jocasta is of +a Perez household, so it was supposed you would make prisoner anyone +of their group. And Tula--well, I reckon Tula listened last night to +some rather hard things the senora has lived through at Soledad, and +knew she would rather die here than go back there." + +Kit realized he was on delicate ground when trying to explain any of +the actions of any of the black and tan group to each other, but he +sought the safest way out, and drew a breath of relief at his success, +for Rotil listened closely, nodding assent, yet frowning in some +perplexity. + +"Um! what does that mean,--rather die than go back?" he demanded. "No +one has told me why the lady has come to Mesa Blanca, or what she is +doing here. I don't see--What the devil ails you?" + +For Kit stared at him incredulous, and whistled softly. + +"Haven't you got it _yet_?" he asked. "Last night you joked about a +girl Marto stole, and we stole from him again. Don't you realize now +who that girl is?" + +"_Jocasta!_" + +It was the first time he had uttered her name and there was a low +terrible note in his voice, half choked by smothered rage. + +"But how could Marto,--or why should--" he began and then halted, +checked by various conflicting facts, and stared frowningly at Rhodes +who again strove to explain that of which he had little knowledge. + +"General, I reckon Marto was square to your interests about everything +but the woman Perez and Conrad sent north into the desert, and it was +Marto's job to see that she never left it alive. Evidently he did not +report that extra task to you, for he meant to save the woman for +himself. But even at that, General, you've got to give him credit. He +says she bewitched him, and he couldn't kill her, and he wouldn't let +the others have her. Also he risked a whale of a beating up, and some +lead souvenirs, in trying to save her, even if it was for himself. So +you see, Marto was only extra human, and is a good man. His heart's +about broke to think he failed you, and I'll bet he wouldn't fail you +again in a thousand years!" + +"Yes, you have the right of that," agreed Rotil. "I did not know; I +don't know yet what this means about Perez and--and----" + +"None of us do, General," stated Kit. "I heard Valencia say it must be +something only a confessor could know,--but it must be rather awful at +that! She was started north like an insane criminal, hidden and in +chains. She explains nothing, but General, you have now the two men at +Soledad who made the plan, and you have here Marto who was their +tool--and perhaps--at Soledad--" he paused questioning. + +"Sure! that is what will be done," decided Rotil. "See to it, you, +after we are gone. Bring Dona Jocasta to Soledad with as much show of +respect as can be mustered in a poor land, your girl and Isidro's wife +to go along, and any comforts you can find. Yes, that is the best! +Some way we will get to the bottom of this well. She must know a lot +if they did not dare let her live, and Marto--well, you make a good +talk for him, straight too--Marto will go with me. Tell no one +anything. Make your own plans. By sunset I will have time for this +mystery of the chains of Dona Jocasta. Be there at Soledad by +sunset." + +"At your command, General." + +Then Chappo and Fidelio helped their leader into the saddle. Marto, +crestfallen and silently anticipating the worst, was led out next; a +_reata_ passed around the saddle horn and circling his waist was +fastened back of the saddle. His hands were free to guide his horse, +but Chappo, with a wicked looking gun and three full cartridge belts, +rode a few paces back of him to see that he made no forbidden use of +them. + +Kit watched them ride east while the long line of women of Palomitas +took up the trail over the mesa to the north. Their high notes of a +song came back to him,--one of those wailing chants of a score of +verses dear to the Mexican heart. In any other place he would have +deemed it a funeral dirge with variations, but with Indian women at +sunrise it meant tuneful content. + +Kit listened with a shiver. Because of his own vagrant airs they had +called him "El Pajarito" when he first drifted south over Mexican +trails,--but happy erratic tunefulness was smothered for him +temporarily. Over the vast land of riches, smiling in the sun, there +brooded the threats of Indian gods chained, inarticulate, reaching out +in unexpected ways for expression through the dusky devotees at hidden +shrines. The fact that occasionally they found expression through some +perverted fragment from an imported cult was a gruesome joke on the +importers. But under the eagle of Mexico, whose wide wings were used +as shield by the German vultures across seas, jokes were not popular. +German educators and foreign priests with Austrian affiliations, saw +to that. The spiritual harvest in Mexico was not always what the +planters anticipated,--for curious crops sprung up in wild corners of +the land, as Indian grains wrapped in a mummy's robe spring to life +under methods of alien culturists. + +Vague drifting thoughts like this followed Kit's shiver of repulsion +at that Indian joy song over the promise of a veritable live Judas. On +him they could wreak a personal vengeance, and go honestly to +confession in some future day, with the conviction that they had, by +the sufferings they could individually and collectively invent for +Judas, in some vague but laudable manner mitigated the sufferings of a +white god far away whose tribulations were dwelt upon much by the +foreign priesthood. + +He sensed this without analysis, for his was not the analytical mind. +What brain Kit had was fairly well occupied by the fact that his own +devoted partner was the moving spirit of that damnable pagan _Come, +all ye_--drifting back to him from the glorified mesa, flushed golden +now by the full sun. + +Clodomiro came wearily up from the corral. The boy had gone without +sleep or rest until his eyes were heavy and his movements listless. +Like the women of Palomitas he also had worked overtime at the call of +Tula, and Kit wondered at the concerted activity--no one had held back +or blundered. + +"Clodomiro," he said passing the lad a cigarette and rolling one for +himself from good new tobacco secured from Fidelio, "how comes it that +even the women of years come in the night for prayers when you ride +for them? Do they give heed to any boy who calls?" + +Clodomiro gave thanks for the cigarette, but was too well bred to +light it in the presence of an elder or a superior. He smelled it with +pleasure, thrust it over his ear and regarded Rhodes with perfectly +friendly and apparently sleepy black eyes. + +"Not always, senor, but when Tula sends the call of Miguel, all are +surely coming, and also making the prayer." + +"The call of Miguel? Why--Miguel is dead." + +"That is true, senor, but he was head man, and he had words of power, +also the old Indians listened. Now Tula has the words, and as you +see,--the words are still alive! I am not knowing what they mean,--the +words,--but when Tula tells me, I take them." + +"_O Tippecanoe, and Tyler too!_" hummed Kit studying the boy. "What's +in a word? Do you mean that you take a trail to carry words you don't +understand, because a girl younger than you tells you to?" + +The boy nodded indifferently. + +"Yes, senor, it is my work when it is words of old prayer, and Tula is +sending them. It would be bad not to go, a quicksand would surely +catch my horse, or I might die from the bite of a _sorrilla rabioso_, +or evil ghosts might lure me into wide _medanos_ where I would seek +trails forever, and find only my own! Words can do that on a man! and +Tula has the words now." + +"Indeed! That's a comfortable chum to have around--not! And have you +no fear?" + +"Not so much. I am very good," stated Clodomiro virtuously. "Some day +maybe I take her for my woman;--her clan talks about it now. She has +almost enough age, and--you see!" + +He directed the attention of Rhodes to the strips of red and green and +pink calico banding his arms, their fluttering ends very decorative +when he moved swiftly. + +"Oh, yes, I've been admiring them. Very pretty," said Kit amicably, +not knowing the significance of it, but conscious of the wide range +one might cover in a few minutes of simple Sonora ranch life. From the +tragic and weird to the childishly inane was but a step. + +Clodomiro passed on to the kitchen, and Kit smoked his cigarette and +paced the outer corridor, striving for plans to move forward with his +own interests, and employ the same time and the same trail for the +task set by Ramon Rotil. + +Rotil had stated that the escort of Dona Jocasta must be as complete +as could be arranged. This meant a duena and a maid at least, and as +he had bidden Tula have her way with her "Judas," it surely meant that +Tula must go to Soledad. Very well so far, and as Rotil would +certainly not question the extent of the outfit taken along, why not +include any trifles Tula and he chanced to care for? He remembered +also that there were some scattered belongings of the Whitely's left +behind in the haste of departure. Well, a few mule loads would be a +neighborly gift to take north when he crossed the border, and Soledad +was nearer the border! + +It arranged itself very well indeed, and as Tula emerged from the +patio smoothing out an old newspaper fragment discarded by Fidelio, +and chewing _chica_ given her by Clodomiro, he hailed her with joy. + +"Blessed Indian Angel," he remarked appreciatively, "you greased the +toboggan for several kinds of hell for us this day of our salvation, +but your jinx was on the job, and turned the trick our way! Do you +know you are the greatest little mascot ever held in captivity?" + +But Tula didn't know what "mascot" meant, and was very much occupied +with the advertisement of a suit and cloak house in the old Nogales +paper in which some trader at the railroad had wrapped Fidelio's +tobacco. It had the picture of an alluring lady in a dress of much +material slipping from the shoulders and dragging around the feet. To +the aboriginal mind that seemed a very great waste, for woven material +was hard to come by in the desert. + +She attempted an inquiry concerning that wastefulness of Americanas, +but got no satisfactory reply. Kit took the tattered old paper from +her hand, and turned it over because of the face of Singleton staring +at him from the other side of the page. It was the account of the +inquest, and in the endeavor to add interest the local reporters had +written up a column concerning Singleton's quarrel with the range +boss, Rhodes,--and the mysterious disappearance of the latter across +the border! + +There was sympathetic mention made of Miss Wilfreda Bernard, heiress +of Granados, and appreciative mention of the efficient manager, +Conrad, who had offered all possible assistance to the authorities in +the sad affair. The general expression of the article was regret that +the present situation along the border prevented further investigation +concerning Rhodes. The said Rhodes appeared to be a stranger in the +locality, and had been engaged by the victim of the crime despite the +objections of Manager Conrad. + +There followed the usual praise and list of virtues of the dead man, +together with reference to the illustrious Spanish pioneer family from +whom his wife had been descended. It was the first time Kit had been +aware of the importance of Billie's genealogy, and remembering the +generally accepted estimates of Spanish pride, he muttered something +about a "rose leaf princess, and a Tennessee hill-billy!" + +"It's some jolt, two of them!" he conceded. + + _Twinkle, twinkle little star, + How I wonder what you are!_ + +"They say bunches of stars and planets get on a jamboree and cross +each other's trail at times, and that our days are rough or smooth +according to their tantrums. Wish I knew the name of the luminary +raising hell for me this morning! It must be doing a highland fling +with a full moon, and I'm being plunked by every scattered spark!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE SECRET OF SOLEDAD CHAPEL + + +It took considerable persuasion to prevail upon Dona Jocasta that a +return to Soledad would be of any advantage to anybody. To her it was +a place fearful and accursed. + +"But, senora, a padre who sought to be of service to you is still +there, a prisoner. In the warring of those wild men who will speak for +him? The men of Soledad would have killed him but for their +superstitions, and Rotil is notorious for his dislike of priests." + +"I know," she murmured sadly. "There are some good ones, but he will +never believe. In his scales the bad ones weigh them down." + +"But this one at Soledad?" + +"Ah, yes, senor, he spoke for me,--Padre Andreas." + +"And a prisoner because of you?" + +"That is true. You do well to remind me of that. My own sorrows sink +me in selfishness, and it is a good friend who shows me my duty. Yes, +we will go. God only knows what is in the heart of Ramon Rotil that he +wishes it, but that which he says is law today wherever his men ride, +and I want no more sorrow in the world because of me. We will go." + +Valencia had gone placidly about preparations for the journey from +the moment Kit had expressed the will of the Deliverer. To hesitate +when he spoke seemed a foolish thing, for in the end he always did the +thing he willed, and to form part of the escort for Dona Jocasta +filled her with pride. She approved promptly the suggestion that +certain bed and table furnishings go to Soledad for use of the senora, +and later be carried north to Mrs. Whitely, whose property they were. + +As capitan of the outfit, Kit bade her lay out all such additions to +their state and comfort, and he would personally make all packs and +decide what animals, chests, or provisions could be taken. + +This was easier managed than he dared hope. Clodomiro rode after mules +and returned with Benito and Mariano at his heels, both joyously +content to leave the planting of fields and offer their young lives to +the army of the Deliverer. Isidro was busy with the duties of the +ranch stock, and there was only Tula to see bags of nuggets +distributed where they would be least noticed among the linen, Indian +rugs, baskets and such family possessions easiest carried to their +owner. + +He marked the packs to be opened, and Tula, watching, did not need to +be told. + +The emotions of the night and the uncertainty of what lay ahead left +Rhodes and Dona Jocasta rather silent as they took the trail to the +gruesome old hacienda called by Dona Jocasta so fearful and accursed. +Many miles went by with only an occasional word of warning between +them where the way was bad, or a word of command for the animals +following. + +"In the night I rode without fear where I dare not look in the +sunlight," said Jocasta drawing back from a narrow ledge where stones +slipped under the hoofs of the horses to fall a hundred feet below in +a dry canon. + +"Yes, senora, the night was kind to all of us," returned Kit politely. +"Even the accidents worked for good except for the pain to you." + +"That is but little, and my shoulder of no use to anyone. General +Rotil is very different,--a wound to a soldier means loss of time. It +is well that shot found him among friends for it is said that when a +wolf has wounds the pack unites to tear him to pieces, and there are +many,--many pesos offered to the traitor who will trap Rotil by any +lucky accident." + +"Yet he took no special care at Mesa Blanca." + +"Who knows? He brought with him only men of the district as guard. Be +sure they knew every hidden trail, and every family. Ramon Rotil is a +coyote for the knowing of traps." + +She spoke as all Altar spoke, with a certain pride in the ability of +the man she had known as a burro driver of the sierras. For three +years he had been an outlaw with a price on his head, and as a rebel +general the price had doubled many times. + +"With so many poor, how comes it that no informer has been found? The +reward would be riches untold to a poor _paisano_." + +"It might be to his widow," said Dona Jocasta, "but no sons of his, +and no brothers would be left alive." + +"True. I reckon the friends of Rotil would see to that! Faithful +hearts are the ones he picks for comrades. I heard an old-timer say +the Deliverer has that gift." + +She looked at him quickly, and away again, and went silent. He +wondered if it was true that there had been love between these two, +and she had been unfaithful. Love and Dona Jocasta were fruitful +themes for the imagination of any man. + +Valencia was having the great adventure of her life in her journey to +Soledad, and she chattered to Tula as a maiden going to a marriage. +Three people illustrious in her small world were at once to be +centered on the stage of war before her eyes. She told Tula it was a +thing to make songs of,--the two men and the most beautiful woman! + +When they emerged from the canon into the wide spreading plain, with +the sierras looming high and blue beyond, the eyes of Kit and Tula +met, and then turned toward their own little camp in the lap of the +mother range. All was flat blue against the sky there, and no +indications of canon or gulch or pocket discernible. Even as they drew +nearer to the hacienda, and Kit surreptitiously used the precious +field glasses, thus far concealed from all new friends of the desert, +he found difficulty in locating their hill of the treasure, and +realized that their fears of discovery in the little canon had been +groundless. In the far-away time when the giant aliso had flourished +there by the canon stream, its height might have served to mark the +special ravine where it grew, but the lightning sent by pagan gods had +annihilated that landmark forever, and there was no other. + +The glint of tears shone in the eyes of Tula, and she rode with +downcast eyes, crooning a vagrant Indian air in which there were bird +calls, and a whimpering long-drawn tremulo of a baby coyote caught in +a trap, a weird ungodly improvisation to hear even with the shining +sun warming the world. + +Kit concluded she was sending her brand of harmony to Miguel and the +ghosts on guard over the hidden trail.--And he rather wished she would +stop it! + +Even the chatter of Valencia grew silent under the spell of the girl's +gruesome intonings,--ill music for her entrance to a new portal of +adventure. + +"It sounds of death," murmured Dona Jocasta, and made the sign of the +cross. "The saints send that the soul to go next has made peace with +God! See, senor, we are truly crossing a place of death as she sings. +That beautiful valley of the green border is the _sumidero_,--the +quicksands from hidden springs somewhere above," and she pointed to +the blue sierras. "I think that is the grave Jose meant for me at +Soledad." + +"Nice cheerful end of the trail--not!" gloomed Kit strictly to +himself. "That little imp is whining of trouble like some be-deviled +prophetess." + +Afterwards he remembered that thought, and wished he could forget! + +Blue shadows stretched eastward across the wide zacatan meadows, and +the hacienda on the far mesa, with its white and cream adobe walls, +shone opal-like in the lavender haze of the setting sun. + +Kit Rhodes had timed the trip well and according to instruction of the +general, but was a bit surprised to find that his little cavalcade was +merely part of a more elaborate plan arranged for sunset at Soledad. + +A double line of horsemen rode out from the hacienda to meet them, a +rather formidable reception committee as they filed in soldier-like +formation over the three miles of yellow and green of the spring +growths, and halted where the glint of water shone in a dam filled +from wells above. + +Their officer saluted and rode forward, his hat in his hand as he +bowed before Dona Jocasta. + +"General Rotil presents to you his compliments, Senora Perez, and +sends his guard as a mark of respect when you are pleased to ride once +more across your own lands." + +"My thanks are without words, senor. I appreciate the honor shown to +me. My generalissimo will answer for me." + +She indicated Kit with a wan smile, and her moment of hesitation over, +his title reminded him that no name but El Pajarito had been given him +by his Indian friends. That, and the office of manager of Mesa Blanca, +was all that served as his introduction to her, and to Rotil. With the +old newspaper in his pocket indicating that Kit Rhodes was the only +name connected with the murder at Granados, he concluded it was just +as well. + +The guard drew to either side, and the officer and Kit, with Dona +Jocasta between them, rode between the two lines, followed by Tula and +Valencia. Then the guard fell in back of them, leaving Clodomiro with +the pack animals and the Indian boys to follow after in the dust. + +Dona Jocasta was pale, and her eyes sought Kit's in troubled question, +but she held her head very erect, and the shrouding lace veil hid all +but her eyes from the strangers. + +"Senor Pajarito," she murmured doubtfully. "The sun is still shining, +and there are no chains on my wrists,--otherwise this guard gives much +likeness to my first arrival at the hacienda of Soledad!" + +"I have a strong belief that no harm is meant to you by the general +commanding," he answered, "else I would have sought another trail, and +these men look friendly." + +"God send they be so!" + +"They have all the earmarks,--and look!" + +They were near enough the hacienda to see men emerge from the portal, +and one who limped and leaned on a cane, moved ahead of the others and +stood waiting. + +"It is an honor that I may bid you welcome to your own estate, Dona +Jocasta," he said grimly. "We have only fare of soldiers to offer you +at first, but a few days and good couriers can remedy that." + +"I beg that you accept my thanks, _Commandante_," she murmured lowly. +"The trail was not of my choosing, and it is an ill time for women to +come journeying." + +"The time is a good time," he said bluntly, "for there is a limit to +my hours here. And in one of them I may do service for you." + +His men stood at either side watching. There were wild tales told of +Ramon Rotil and women who crossed or followed his trail, but here was +the most beautiful of all women riding to his door and he gave her no +smile,--merely motioned to the Americano that he assist her from the +saddle. + +"The supper is ready, and your woman and the priest will see that care +is given for your comfort," he continued. "Afterwards, in the +_sala_----" + +She bent her head, and with Kit beside her passed on to the inner +portal. There a dark priest met her and reached out his hand. + +"No welcome is due me, Padre Andreas," she said brokenly. "I turned +coward and tried to save myself." + +"Daughter," he returned with a wry smile at Kit, and a touch of cynic +humor, "you had right in going. The lieutenant would have had no +pleasure in adding me to his elopement, and, as we hear,--your stolen +trail carried you to good friends." + +Kit left them there and gave his attention to space for the packs and +outfit, but learned that the general had allotted to him the small +corral used in happier days for the saddle horses of the family. There +was a gate to it and a lock to the gate. Chappo had been given charge, +and when all was safely bestowed, he gave the key to the American. + +The brief twilight crept over the world, and candles were lit when Kit +returned to the corridor. Rotil was seated, giving orders to men who +rode in and dismounted, and others who came out from supper, mounted +and rode away. It was the guard from a wide-flung arc bringing report +of sentinels stationed at every pass and water hole. + +Padre Andreas was there presenting some appeal, and to judge by his +manner he was not hopeful of success. Yet spoke as a duty of his +office and said so. + +"What is your office to me?" asked Rotil coldly. "Do your duty and +confess him when the time comes if that is his wish. It is more than +he would have given to her or the foreman who stored the ammunition. +Him he had killed as the German had Miguel Herrara killed on the +border,--and Herrara had been faithful to that gun running for months. +When man or woman is faithful to Jose Perez long enough to learn +secrets, he rewards them with death. A dose of his own brew will be +fit medicine." + +"But the woman,--she is safe. She is----" + +"Yes, very safe!" agreed Rotil, sneering. "Shall I tell you, pious +Father, how safe she is? The cholo who took food to Perez and that +German dog has brought me a message. See, it is on paper, and is clear +for any to read. You--no not you, but Don Pajarito here shall read it. +He is a neutral, and not a padre scheming to save the soul of a man +who never had a soul!" + +Kit held it to the light, read it, and returned it to Rotil. + +"I agree with you, General. He offers her to you in exchange for his +own freedom." + +"Yes, and to pay for that writing I had him chained where he could see +her enter the plaza as a queen, if we had queens in Mexico! You had an +unseen audience for your arrival. The guard reports that the German +friend of Perez seems to love you, Don Pajarito, very much indeed." + +"Sure he does. Here is the mark of one of his little love pats with a +monkey wrench," and Kit parted his hair to show the scar of the +Granados assault. "I got that for interfering when he was trying to +kill his employer's herds with ground glass in their feed." + +"So? no wonder if he goes in a rage to see you riding as a lady's +caballero while he feels the weight of chains in a prison. This world +is but a little place!" + +"That is true," said Padre Andreas, "regarding Kit, for the story of +the horses was told to me by Dona Jocasta here in Soledad!" + +"How could that be?" demanded Rotil. "Is it not true you met the lady +first at Mesa Blanca?" + +"As you say," said Kit, alert at the note of suspicion, "if the lady +knows aught of Granados, it is a mystery to me, and is of interest." + +"Not so much a mystery," said the priest. "Conrad boasted much when +glasses were emptied with Perez on the Hermosillo rancho, and Dona +Jocasta heard. He told the number of cavalry horses killed by his men, +also the owner of that ranch of Granados who had to be silenced for +the cause." + +"Thanks for those kind words, Padre," said Kit. "If Dona Jocasta has a +clear memory of that boasting, she may save a life for me." + +"So?" said Rotil speculatively. "We seem finding new trails at +Soledad. Whose life?" + +"The partner of a chum of mine," stated Kit lightly, as he did some +quick thinking concerning the complications likely to arise if he was +regarded as a possible murderer hiding from the law. "My own hunch is +that Conrad himself did it." + +"Have you any idea of a trap for him?" + +"N-no, General, unless he was led to believe that I was under guard +here. He might express his sentiments more freely if he thought I +would never get back across the border alive." + +"Good enough! This offer from Perez is to go into the keeping of Dona +Jocasta. You've the duty of taking it to her. We have not yet found +that ammunition." + +"Well, it did cross the border, and somebody got it." + +"He says it was moved to Hermosillo before Juan Gonsalvo, the +overseer, died." + +"Was shot, you mean, after it was cached." + +"Maybe so, but he offers to trade part of it for his liberty, and +deliver the goods north of Querobabi." + +"Yes, General,--into the bodies of your men if you trust him." + +Rotil chuckled. "You are not so young as you look, Don Pajarito, and +need no warning. It is the room next the _sala_ where I will have +Perez and Conrad brought. The senora can easily overhear what is said. +It may be she will have the mind to help when she sees that offer he +made." + +"It would seem so, yet--women are strange! They go like the padre, to +prayers when a life is at stake." + +"Some women, and some priests, boy," said the dark priest. "It may be +that you do not know Dona Jocasta well." + +This remark appeared to amuse Rotil, for he smiled grimly and with a +gesture indicated that they were to join Dona Jocasta. + +She was rested and refreshed by a good supper. Valencia and Elena, the +cook, had waited upon her and the latter waxed eloquent over the +stupendous changes at Soledad from the time of Dona Jocasta's supper +the previous day. Many of the angry men had been ready to start after +Marto who had cheated them, when a courier rode in with the word that +Don Jose and Senor Conrad were close behind. Then the surprise of all +when Don Jose was captured, and it was seen that Elena had been +cooking these many days, not for simple vaqueros, but for some +soldiers of the revolution by which peace and plenty was to come to +all the land! It was a beautiful dream, and the Deliverer was to make +it come true! + +Tula sat in the shadow against the wall, like some slender Indian +carving, mute and expressionless while the eyes of the woman rolled as +the two old friends exchanged their wonder tales of the night and day! +Elena made definite engagement to be with the "Judas" trailers on the +dark Friday, and both breathed blessings on Rotil who had promised +them the right man for the hanging. + +It was this cheerful topic Kit entered upon with the written note from +Perez to the general. He had no liking for his task, as his eyes +rested on Dona Jocasta, beautiful, resigned and detached from the +scene about her. He remembered what Rotil had said scoffingly of +saints lifted from shrines--a man never forgot that shrine was empty! + +"Mine is a thankless task, senora, but the general decided you are the +best keeper of this," and he gave to her the scribbled page torn from +a note book. + +She took it and held it unread, looking at him with dark tragic eyes. + +"I have fear of written words, senor, and would rather hear them +spoken. So many changes have come that I dread new changes. No matter +where my cage is moved, it is still a cage to me," she said +wistfully. + +"I've a hunch, Dona Jocasta, that the bars of that cage are going to +be broken for you," ventured Kit, taking the seat she indicated, "and +this note may be one of the weapons to do it. Evidently Senor Perez +has had some mistaken information concerning the stealing of you from +here;--he thought it was by the general's order. So mistaken was he +that he thought you were the object of Rotil's raid on Soledad, and +for his own freedom he has offered to give you, and half his stock of +ammunition, to General Ramon Rotil, and agree to a truce between their +factions." + +"Ah! he offers to make gift of me to the man he hates," she said after +a long silence. "And the guns and ammunition,--he also surrenders +them?" + +"He offers--but it is written here! Since the guns, however, have been +taken south, he cannot give them; he can only promise them, until such +time----" + +"Ho!" she said scornfully. "Is that the tale he tells? It is true +there are guns in the south, but guns are also elsewhere! He forgets, +does Jose Perez,--or else he plays for time. This offer," and she +referred to the note, "it is not written since we arrived--no. It was +written earlier, when he thought I was held by that renegade far in +the desert." + +"I reckon that is true, senora, for after receiving it, Rotil had him +chained in a room fronting the plaza that he might see you enter +Soledad with honors." + +"Ramon Rotil did that?" she mused, looking at the note thoughtfully, +"and he gives to me the evidence against Jose? Senor, in the Perez +lands we hear only evil things and very different things about Rotil. +They would say this paper was for sale, but not for a gift. And--he +gives it to me!" + +Kit also remembered different things and evil things told of Rotil, +but they were not for discussion with a lady. He had wondered a bit +that it was not the padre who was given the message to transmit, yet +suddenly he realized that even the padre might have tried to make it a +question of barter, for the padre wanted help for his priestly office +in the saving of Perez' soul, and incidentally of his life. + +"Yes, senora, it seems a free-will offering, and he said to tell you +it would be in the room adjoining this that Perez would be questioned +as to the war material. Rotil's men have searched, and his officers +have questioned, but Perez evidently thinks Rotil will not execute +him, as a ransom will pay much better." + +"That is true, death pays no one--no one!" + +Her voice was weighted with sadness, and Kit wondered what the cloud +was under which she lived. The padre evidently knew, but none of +Rotil's men. It could not be the mere irregularity of her life with +Perez, for to the peon mind she was the great lady of a great +hacienda, and wife of the padrone. No,--he realized that the sin of +Dona Jocasta had been a different thing, and that the shadow of it +enveloped her as a dark cloak of silence. + +"It is true, senora, that death pays no one, except that the death of +one man may save other lives more valuable. That often happens," +remarked Kit, with the idea of distracting her from her own woe, +whatever it was. "It might have seemed a crime if one of his nurses +had chucked a double dose of laudanum into Bill Hohenzollern's baby +feed, but that nurse would have saved the lives of hundreds of +thousands of innocents, so you never can tell whether a murderer is a +devil, or a man doing work of the angels." + +"Bill?" Evidently the name was a new one to Dona Jocasta. + +"That's the name of the Prussian pirate of the Huns across the water. +Your friend Conrad belongs to them." + +"My friend! My _friend_, senor!" and Dona Jocasta was on her feet, +white and furious, her eyes flaming hatred. Kit Rhodes was appalled at +the spirit he had carelessly wakened. He remembered the statement of +the priest that he evidently did not know the lady well, and realized +in a flash that he certainly did not, also that he would feel more +comfortable elsewhere. + +"Senora, I beg a thousand pardons for my foolishness," he implored. +"My--my faulty Spanish caused me to speak the wrong word. Will you not +forgive me such a stupid blunder? Everyone knows the German brute +could not be a friend of yours, and that you could have only hatred of +his kind." + +She regarded him steadily with the ever ready suspicion against an +Americano showing in her eyes, but his regret was so evident, and his +devotion to her interests so sincere, that the tension relaxed, and +she sank back in her chair, her hand trembling as she covered her eyes +for a moment. + +"It is I who am wrong, senor. You cannot know how the name of that man +is a poison, and why absolution is refused me because I will not +forgive,--and will not say I forgive! I will not lie, and because of +the hate of him my feet will tread the fires of hell. The padre is +telling me that, so what use to pray? Of what use, I ask you?" + +Kit could see no special use if she had accepted the threat of the +priest that hell was her portion anyway. + +"Oh, I would not take that gabble of a priest seriously if I were +you," he suggested. "No one can beat me in detesting the German and +what he stands for, but I have no plans of going to hell for it--not +on your life! To hate Conrad, or to kill him would be like killing a +rattlesnake, or stamping a tarantula into the sand. He has been let +live to sting too many, and Padre Andreas tells me you heard him boast +of an American killing at Granados!" + +"That is true, senor, and it was so clever too! It was pleasure for +him to tell of that because of clever tricks in it. They climbed poles +to the wires and called the man to a town, then they waited on that +road and shot him before he reached the town. The alcalde of that +place decided the man had killed himself, and Conrad laughed with Jose +Perez on account of that, because they were so clever!" + +"They?" queried Kit trying to prevent his eagerness from showing in +his voice. "Who helped him? Not Perez?" + +"No, senor, in that sin Jose had no part. It was a very important man +who did not appear important;--quite the other way, and like a man of +piety. His name, I am remembering it well, for it is Diego,--but said +in the American way, which is James." + +"Diego, said in the American way?" repeated Kit thoughtfully. "Is he +then an American?" + +"Not at all, senor! He is Aleman _commandante_ for the border. His +word is an order for life or death, and Jose Perez is of his circle. +The guns buried by Perez are bought with the German money; it is for +war of Sonora against Arizona when that day comes." + +"Shucks! that day isn't coming unless the Huns put more of a force +down here than is yet in sight," declared Kit, "but that 'Diego' +bothers me. I know many James',--several at Granados, but not the sort +you tell of, senora. Will you speak of that murder again, and let it +be put on paper for me? I have friends at Granados who may be troubled +about it, and your help would be as--as the word of an angel at the +right hour." + +"A sad angel, senor," she said with a sigh, "but why should I not help +you to your wish since you have guarded me well? It is a little thing +you ask." + +The Indian women at the far end of the _sala_ had lowered their +voices, but their gossip in murmurs and expressive gestures flowed on, +and only Tula gave heed to the talk at the table of wars and guns, and +secrets of murder, and that was no new thing in Sonora. + +One door of the _sala_ opened from the patio, and another into a room +used as a chapel after the old adobe walls of the mission church had +melted utterly back into the earth. Rotil had selected it merely +because its only window was very high, an architectural variation +caused by a wing of the mission rooms still standing when Soledad +hacienda was built. A new wall had been built against the older and +lower one which still remained, with old sleeping cells of the +neophytes used as tool sheds, and an unsightly litter of propped or +tumbling walls back of the ranch house. + +The door from the _sala_ was slightly ajar, and the voice of Fidelio +was heard there. He asked someone for another candle, and another +chair. And there was the movement of feet, and rearrangement of +furniture. + +Rotil entered the _sala_ from the patio, and stood just inside, +looking about him. + +With a brief word and gesture he indicated that Elena and Valencia +vacate. At Tula he glanced, but did not bid her follow. He noted the +folded paper in the hand of Dona Jocasta, but did not address her; it +was to Kit he spoke. + +"The door will be left open. I learn that Conrad distrusts Perez +because he paid German money, and shipped the guns across the border, +but Perez never uncovered one for him. They are badly scared and ready +to cut each other's throats if they had knives. Dona Jocasta may +overhear what she pleases, and furnish the knives as well if she so +decides." + +But Dona Jocasta with a shudder put up her hand in protest. + +"No knife, no knife!" she murmured, and Rotil shrugged his shoulders +and looked at Kit. + +"That little crane in the corner would walk barefoot over embers of +hell to get a knife and get at Conrad," he said. "You have taste in +your favorites, senor." + +He seemed to get a certain amusement in the contemplation of Kit and +Tula; he had seen no other American with quite that sort of addition +to his outfit. Kit was content to let him think his worst, as to tell +the truth would no doubt lose them a friend. It tickled the general's +fancy to think the thin moody Indian girl, immature and childlike, was +an American's idea of a sweetheart! + +Voices and the clank of chains were heard in the patio, and then in +the next room. + +"Why bring us here when your questions were given answer as well in +another place?" demanded a man's voice, and at that Dona Jocasta +looked at Rotil. + +"Yes, why do you?" she whispered. + +He stared at her, frowning and puzzled. + +"Did I not tell you? I did it that you might hear him repeat his +offer. What else?" + +"I--see," she said, bending her head, but as Rotil went to the door, +Kit noted that the eyes of Dona Jocasta followed him curiously. He +concluded that the unseen man of the voice was Jose Perez. + +Then the voice of Conrad was heard cursing at a chain too heavy. Rotil +laughed, and walked into the chapel. + +"I can tell you something, you German Judas!" he said coldly. "You +will live to see the day when these chains, and this safe old chapel, +will be as a paradise you once lived in. You will beg to crawl on your +knees to be again comfortably inside this door." + +"Is that some Mexican joke?" asked Conrad, and Rotil laughed again. + +"Sure it is, and it will be on you! They tell me you collect girls in +Sonora for a price. Well, they have grown fond of you,--the Indian +women of Sonora! They say you must end your days here with them. I +have not heard of a ransom price they would listen to,--though you +might think of what you have to offer." + +"Offer?" growled Conrad. "How is there anything to offer in Sonora +when Perez here has sent the guns south?" + +"True, the matter of ransom seems to rest with Senor Perez who is +saving of words." + +"I put the words on paper, and sent it by your man," said Perez. "What +else is there to say?" + +"Oh, that?" returned Rotil. "My boys play tricks, and make jokes with +me like happy children. Yes, Chappo did bring words on paper,--foolish +words he might have written himself. I take no account of such things. +You are asked for the guns, and I get foolish words on paper of a +woman you would trade to me, and guns you would send me." + +"Well?" + +"Who gives you right to trade the woman, senor?" + +"Who has a better right? She belongs to me." + +"Very good! And her name?" + +"You know the name." + +"Perhaps, but I like my bargains with witness, and they must witness +the name." + +"Jocasta--" There was a slight hesitation, and Rotil interrupted. + +"She has been known as Senora Jocasta Perez, is it not so?" + +"Well--yes," came the slow reply, "but that was foolishness of the +peons on my estates. They called her that." + +"Very good! One woman called Jocasta Perez is offered to me in trade +with the guns. Jose Perez, have you not seen that the Dona Jocasta +Perez is even now mistress of Soledad, and that my men and I are as +her servants?" + +Jocasta on the other side of the door strangled a half sob as she +heard him, and crept nearer the door. + +"Oh, you are a good one at a bargain, Ramon Rotil! You try to pretend +the woman cannot count in this trade, but women always count,--women +like Jocasta!" + +"So? Then we will certainly take count of the woman--one woman! Now to +guns and ammunition. How many, and where?" + +"At Hermosillo, and it will take a week." + +"I have no week to waste, and I do not mean the guns at Hermosillo. +You have five minutes, Jose Perez. Also those playful boys are +building a nice warm fire for the branding irons. And you will both +get a smell of your own burning hides if I wait longer for an +answer." + +"Holy God!" shouted Conrad. "Why burn me for his work? From me the +guns have been hid as well as from you;--all I got was promises! They +are my guns,--my money paid, but he is not straight! Here at Soledad +he was to show me this time, but I think now it was a trick to murder +me as he murdered Juan Gonsalvo, the foreman who stored them away for +him." + +"Animal!" growled Perez. "You have lost your head to talk of murders +to me! Two murders at Granados are waiting for you, and it is not far +to ship you back to the border! Walk with care, senor!" + +"You are each wasting time with your truth telling," stated Rotil. +"This is no time to count your dead men. It is the count of the guns I +want. And a sight of the ammunition." + +"Give me a guide to Hermosillo, and the price of guns can be got for +you." + +"It is not the _price_ of guns I asked you for, it is guns,--the guns +Conrad and Herrara got over the border for you. Your time is going +fast, Jose Perez." + +"They are not to be had this side of Hermosillo, send me south if you +want them. But it is well to remember that if an accident happens to +me you never could get them,--never! I alone know their hiding +place." + +"For that reason have I waited for your visit to Soledad,--you and +your carts and your pack mules," stated Rotil. "Do not forget that +Marto Cavayso and other men of mine have been for weeks with your +ranchmen. Your pack train comes here empty, and means one thing +only--they came for the American guns! Your minutes are going, senor, +and the branding irons are getting heat from the fire. One more +minute!" + +"Write the figures of the ransom, and grant me a messenger to +Hermosillo. You have the whip hand, you can make your price." + +"But me? What of _my_ ransom?" demanded Conrad. "My money, and my time +paid for those guns--I have not seen one of them this side of the +border! If no guns are paid for me, money must be paid." + +"No price is asked for you. I told you the women have named no +ransom." + +"Women? That is foolishness. It is not women for whom you hold me! He +has turned traitor, has Perez! He wants me sent back across the border +without that price of the guns for his mushroom government! He has +told his own tales of Herrara, and of Singleton, and they are +lies--all lies!" + +"But what of the tale of Diego, said in the American way?" asked Kit +stepping inside the room. + +"Diego! Diego!" repeated Conrad and made a leap at Perez. "You have +sold me out to the Americans, you scum! James warned me you were scum +of the gutters, and now----" + +The guard caught him, and he stood there shaking with fury in the dim +light. Perez drew away with a curse. + +"To hell with you and James and your crew on the border," he growled. +"I care nothing as to how soon the damned gringos swing you both. When +you Germans want to use us we are your 'dear brothers.' When we +out-trick you, we are only scum, eh? You can tell your _commandante_ +James that I won the game from him, and all the guns!" + +"My thanks to you, General Rotil, that I have been allowed to hear +this," said Kit, "also that I have witness. I'd do as much for you if +the chance comes. Two men were killed on the border by Conrad under +order of this James. Herrara was murdered in prison for fear he would +turn informer about the guns. Singleton was murdered to prevent him +investigating the German poisoning of cavalry horses. The German swine +meant to control Granados rancho a few months longer for their own +purposes." + +"_Meant_ to?" sneered Conrad. "You raw cub!--you are playing with +dynamite and due for a fall. So is your fool country! Though Perez +here has lost his nerve and turned traitor to our deal, that is only a +little puff of wind against the bulwarks of the Fatherland! We will +hold Granados; we will hold the border; and with Mexico (not this +crook of the west, but _real_ Mexico) we will win and hold every +border state and every Pacific coast state! You,--poor fool!--will +never reach Granados alive to tell this. You are but one American in +the Indian wilderness, and you are sure to go under, but you go +knowing that though James and I die, and though a thousand more of us +die, there will be ten thousand secret German workers in America to +carry on our plan until all the world will be under the power of the +Prussian eagle! You,--who think you know so much, can add _that_ to +finish your education in Sonora, and carry it to hell with you!" + +His voice, coldly contemptuous at first, had risen to a wrathful +shriek as he faced the American and hurled at him the exultance of the +Teuton dream. + +"I certainly am in great luck to be your one American confessor," +grinned Kit, "but I'll postpone that trip as long as possible. I +reckon General Rotil will let the padre help me make note of this +education you are handing out to me. A lot of Americans need it! Have +I your permission, General?" + +"Go as far as you like," snapped Rotil. "They have used up their time +limit in scolding like old women. Perez, I wait for the guns." + +"Send me to Hermosillo and I will recover enough for a ransom," said +Perez. + +Rotil regarded him a moment through half-closed, sinister eyes. + +"That was your last chance, and you threw it away. Chappo, strip him; +Fidelio, fetch the branding irons." + +Perez shrank back, staring at Rotil as if fascinated. He was striving +to measure the lengths to which the "Hawk of the Sierras" would go, +and a sudden gleam of hope came into his eyes as Padre Andreas held +up a crucifix before Chappo, waving him aside. + +"No, Rotil,--torture is a thing for animals, not men! Hell waits for +the sinner who----" + +"Hell won't wait for you one holy minute!" snapped Rotil. "Get back +with the women where you belong; there is men's work to do here." + +He caught the priest by the arm in an iron grip and whirled him +towards the _sala_. The man would have fallen but for Kit who caught +him, but could not save the crash of his head against the door. Blood +streamed from a cut in his forehead, and thus he staggered into the +room where Dona Jocasta stood, horror-stricken and poised for flight. + +But the sight of the blood-stained priest, and the sound of a strange, +half animal cry from the other room, turned her feet that way. + +"No, Ramon! No-_no_!" she cried and sped through the door to fling +herself between him and his victims. + +Her arms were stretched wide and she halted, almost touching him, with +her back to the chained man towards whom she had not glanced, but she +could not help seeing the charcoal brazier with the red-hot branding +irons held by Fidelio. The gasping cry had come from Conrad by whom +the brazier was set. + +Ramon Rotil stared at her, frowning as if he would fling her from his +path as he had the priest. + +"No, Ramon!" she said again, still with that supplicating look and +gesture, "send them out of here,--both these men. I would smother and +die in a room with that German beast. You will not be sorry, Ramon +Rotil, I promise you that,--I promise you by the God I dare not +face!" + +[Illustration: "No, Ramon! No!" she cried, and flung herself between him +and his victims.] + +"Ho!" snarled Perez. "Is the priest also her lover that she----" + +"Send the German out, and let Jose Perez stay to see that I keep my +promise," she said letting her arms fall at her side, but facing Rotil +with an addition of hauteur in her poise and glance. "The price he +will pay for the words he has spoken here will be a heavy price,--one +he has risked life to hold! Send that pale snake and your men outside, +Ramon." + +Perez was leaning forward, his face strained and white, watching her. +He could not see her face, but the glimpse of hope came again into his +eyes--a woman might succeed with Rotil where a priest would fail! + +Rotil, still frowning at her, waved his hand to Chappo and Fidelio. + +"Take him away," he said, "and wait beyond." + +The shuffling movement and clank of chains was heard, but she did not +turn her head. Instead she moved past Rotil, lifted a candle, and went +towards the shrine at the end of the room. + +A table was there with a scarf across it, and back of the table three +steps leading up to a little platform on which were ranged two or +three mediocre statues of saints, once brilliant with blue and scarlet +and tinsel, but tarnished and dim from the years. + +In the center was a painting, also dark and dim in which only a halo +was still discernible in the light of the candle, but the features of +the saint pictured there were shadowed and elusive. + +For a moment she knelt on the lower step and bent her head because of +those remnants of a faith which was all she knew of earthly hope,--and +then she started to mount the steps. + +"The curse of God shrivel you!" muttered Perez in cold fury--"come +down from there!" + +Without heed to the threat, she moved the little statues to right or +left, and then lifted her hand, resting it on the wooden frame of the +painting. + +"Call the Americano," she said without turning. "You will need a man, +but not a man of Altar. Another day may come when you, Ramon, may have +need of this house for hiding!" + +Rotil strode to the door and motioned Kit to enter, then he closed +both doors and gave no heed to Perez, crouched there like a chained +coyote in a trap. + +"Come down!" he said again. "You are in league with hell to know of +that. I never gave it to you! Come down! I meant to tell after he had +finished with Conrad--I mean to tell!" + +"He waited too long, and spoke too much," she said to Rotil. "Keep +watch on him, and let the Americano give help here." + +Kit mounted the step beside her, and at her gesture took hold of the +frame on one side. She found a wedge of wood at the other side and +drew it out. The loosened frame was lifted out by Kit and carried down +the three steps; it was a panel a little over two feet in width and +four in height. + +"Set it aside, and watch Jose Perez while General Rotil looks within," +she said evenly. + +Rotil glanced at Perez scowling black hate at her, and then turned to +Jocasta who held out the candle. + +"It is for you to see,--you and no other," she said. "You have saved a +woman he would have traded as a slave, and I give you more than a +slave's ransom." + +He took the candle and his eyes suddenly flamed with exultation as her +meaning came to him. + +"_Jocasta!_" he muttered as if scarce believing, and then he mounted +the step, halted an instant in the panel of shadow, and, holding the +candle over his head, he leaned forward and descended on the other +side of the wall. + +"You damned she-wolf of the hills!" growled Perez with the concentrated +hate of utter failure in his voice. "I fed you, and my money covered +your nakedness, and now you put a knife in my neck and go back to +cattle of the range for a mate! You,--without shame or soul!" + +"That is true," she said coldly. "You killed a soul in the _casita_ of +the oleanders, Jose Perez, and it was a dead woman you and the German +chained to be buried in the desert. But even the dead come back to +help friends who are faithful, Jose,--and I am as the dead who walk." + +She did not look at him as she spoke, but sank on her knees before the +dark canvas where only the faint golden halo gave evidence of some +incarnated holiness portrayed there. Her voice was low and even, and +the sadness of it thrilled Kit. He thought of music of sweet chords, +and a broken string vibrating, for the hopelessness in her voice held +a certain fateful finality, and her delicate dark loveliness---- + +Rotil emerged from the doorway of the shrine and stood there, a +curious substitute for the holy picture, looking down on her with a +wonderful light in his face. + +"Your ransom wins for you all you wish of me,--except the life of one +man," he said, and with a gesture indicated that Kit help her to her +feet. He did so, and saw that she was very white and trembling. + +Rotil looked at Perez over her head, and Perez scowled back, with all +the venom of black hate. + +"You win!--but a curse walks where she walks. Ask her? Ask Marto of +the men she put under witchcraft! Ask Conrad who had good luck till +she hated him! If you have a love, or a child, or anything dear, let +her not look hate on them, for her knife follows that look! Ask her of +the knife she set in the heart of a child for jealousy of Conrad! Ai, +general though you are, your whole army is not strong enough to guard +you from the ill luck you will take with the gift _she_ gives! She is +a woman under a curse. Ha! Look at her as I say it, for you hear the +truth. Ask the padre!" + +Kit realized that Perez was launching against her the direst weight of +evil the Mexican or Indian mind has to face. Though saints and heaven +and hell might be denied by certain daring souls, the potency of +witchcraft was seldom doubted. Men or women accused of it were shunned +as pariahs, and there had been known persons who weakened and dwindled +into death after accusation had been put against them. + +He thought of it as she cowered under each separate count of the curse +launched against her. She bent like a slender reed under the strokes +of a flail, lower and lower against his arm, but when the deadly voice +flung the final taunt at her, she straightened slowly and looked at +Rotil. + +"Yes, ask the padre--or ask me!" she said in that velvet soft voice of +utter despair. "That I sent an innocent soul to death is too true. To +my great sorrow I did it;--I would do it again! For that my life is +indeed a curse to me,--but his every other word a lie!" + +Then she took a step forward, faltered, and fell back into the +outstretched arm of Kit. + +"Take Senora Perez to the women, and come back," said Rotil. Kit noted +that even though he moved close, and bent over the white unconscious +face, he did not touch her. + +"Senora Perez!" repeated Perez contemptuously. "You are generous with +other men's names for your women! Her name is the Indian mother's +name." + +"Half Indian," corrected Rotil, "and her naming I will decide another +time." + +Kit returned, and without words proceeded to help replace the holy +picture in its niche. In the struggle with the padre, a chunk of adobe +had been knocked from the wall near the door, and he picked it up, +crumbling it to a soft powder and sprinkled it lightly over the steps +where foot prints were traceable in the dust. + +Rotil who had gone to the door to recall the guard, halted and watched +him closely. + +"Good!" he said. "You also give me a thought concerning this animal; +he will bark if he has listeners, and even the German should not +hear--one never knows! I need a cage for a few hours. You have been a +friend, and know secret things. Will you lock him in your own room and +hold the key to yourself?" + +"Surest thing you know," answered Kit though with the uncomfortable +certainty that the knowledge of too many secret things in Mexico was +not conducive to long life for the knower. "I may also assure you that +Marto is keen on giving you honest service that his one fault may be +atoned for." + +"He will get service," stated Rotil. "You saved me a good man there, +amigo." + +He flung open the door of the corridor and whistled for the guard. + +"Remove this man and take your orders from Capitan----" He halted, and +his eyes narrowed quizzically. + +"It seems we never were introduced, amigo, and we know only your joy +name of the singer, but there must be another." + +"Oh, yes, there's another, all right," returned Kit, knowing that +Conrad would enlighten Rotil if he did not. "I'm the hombre suspected +of that Granados murder committed by Conrad,--and the name is +Rhodes." + +"So? Then the scolding of these two comrades gives to you your freedom +from suspicion, eh? That is good, but--" He looked at Kit, frowning. +"See here, I comprehend badly. You told me it was the friend of your +_compadre_ who was the suspected one!" + +"Sure! I've a dandy partner across the border. He's the old man you +saw at Yaqui Spring, and I reckon I'm a fairly good friend of his. +He'd say so!" + +Rotil's face relaxed in a grin. + +"That is clever, a trick and no harm in it, but--have a care to +yourself! It is easy to be too clever, and on a trail of war no one +has time to learn if tricks are of harm or not. Take the warning of a +friend, Capitan Rhodes!" + +"You have the right of it, General. I have much to learn," agreed Kit. +"But no man goes abroad to shout the crimes he is accused of at +home,--and the story of this one is very new to me. This morning I +learned I was thought guilty, and tonight I learn who is the criminal, +and how the job was done. This is quick work, and I owe the luck of it +to you." + +"May the good luck hold!" said Rotil. "And see that the men leave you +alone as the guard of Perez. I want no listeners there." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE STORY OF DONA JOCASTA + + +Ramon Rotil stood a long minute after the clank of chains ceased along +the corridor; then he bolted the outer door of the chapel, and after +casting a grim satisfied smile at the screen of the faded canvas, he +opened the door of the _sala_ and went in. + +Valencia was kneeling beside Dona Jocasta and forcing brandy between +the white lips, while Elena bustled around the padre whose head she +had been bathing. A basin of water, ruby red, was evidence of the fact +that Padre Andreas was not in immediate need of the services of a +leech. He sat with his bandaged head held in his hands, and shrank +perceptibly when the general entered the room. + +Dona Jocasta swallowed some of the brandy, half strangled over it, and +sat up, gasping and white. It was Tula who offered her a cup of water, +while Valencia, with fervent expressions of gratitude to the saints, +got to her feet, eyeing Rotil with a look of fear. After the wounded +priest and the fainting Jocasta emerged from the chapel door, the two +women were filled with terror of the controlling spirit there. + +He halted on the threshold, his eyes roving from face to face, +including Tula, who stood, back against the wall, regarding him as +usual with much admiration. One thing more he must know. + +"Go you without," he said with a gesture towards the two women and the +priest. "I will speak with this lady alone." + +They all moved to the door, and after a moment of hesitation Tula was +about to follow when he stopped her. + +"You stay, girl. The Dona Jocasta may want a maid, but take yourself +over there." + +So Tula slipped silently back into the niche of the window seat where +the shadows were deepest, and Rotil moved towards the center table +dragging a chair. On the other side of the table was the couch on +which Jocasta sat, white and startled at the dismissal of the woman +and priest. + +"Be composed," he said gentling his tone as one would to soothe a +child. "There are some things to be said between us here, and too many +ears are of no advantage." + +She did not reply; only inclined her head slightly and drew herself +upright against the wall, gathering the lace _rebosa_ across her bosom +where Valencia had unfastened her garments and forgotten them in her +fear. + +"First is the matter of my debt to you. Do you know in your own mind +how great that is?" + +"I--count it as nothing, senor," she murmured. + +"That is because you do not know the great need, and have not made +count of the cases of rifles and ammunition." + +"It is true, I never looked at them. Juan Gonsalvo in dying blamed +Jose Perez for the shot. It was fired by another hand,--but God alone +knows! So Juan sent for me, and Jose never knew. The secret of Soledad +was given to me then, but I never thought to use it, until----" + +She ceased, shuddering, and he knew she was thinking of the +blood-stained priest whirled into her presence. Fallen though the +state of the priesthood might be in Mexico, there were yet women of +Jocasta's training to whom an assault on the clergy was little less +than a mortal sin. He knew that, and smiled grimly at the remembrance +of her own priestly father who had refused her in honest marriage to a +man of her mother's class, and was busily engaged haggling over the +gift price of her with Jose Perez when death caught him. The +bewildered girl was swept to the estate of Perez without either +marriage or gift, unless one choose to consider as gift the shelter +and food given to a younger sister and brother. + +All this went through his mind as she shrank and sighed because he had +tossed a priest from his way with as slight regard as he would the +poorest peon. She did not even know how surely the destiny of her +mother and her own destiny had been formed by a priest's craft. She +would never know, because her mind would refuse to accept it. There +were thousands like her because of their shadowed inheritance. +Revolution for the men grew out of that bondage of women, and Rotil +had isolated moments when he dreamed of a vast and blessed freedom of +the land--schools, and schools, and more schools until knowledge would +belong to the people instead of to the priests! + +But he knew it was no use to tell thoughts like that to women; they +were afraid to let go their little wooden saints and the jargon of +prayers they did not understand. The mystery of it held them! + +Thus brooded Rotil, unlearned driver of burros and general of an army +of the people! + +"We will forget all but the ammunition," he said. "It is as food to my +men, and some of them are starving there to the east; with ammunition +food can be commandeered. I knew the guns were on Soledad land, but +even a golden dream of angels would not have let me hope for as much +as you have given me. It is packed,--that room, from floor to roof +tiles. In the morning I take the trail, and there is much to be done +before I go. You;--I must think of first. Will you let me be your +confessor, and tell me any wish of your heart I may help you to?" + +"My heart has no wish left alive in it," she said. "There have been +days when I had wish for the hut under the palms where my mother +lived. A childish wish,--but other wishes are dead!" + +"There is no going back," he said, staring at the tiles, and not +looking at her. "It is of future things we must think. He said +things--Perez did, and you----" + +"Yes!" she half whispered. "There is no way but to tell of it, but--I +would ask that the child wait outside. The story is not a story for a +girl child, Ramon." + +He motioned to Tula. + +"Outside the door, but in call," he said, and without a word or look +Tula went softly out. + +There was silence for a bit between them, her hands were clasped at +full length, and she leaned forward painfully tense, looking not at +him, but past him. + +"It is not easy, but you will comprehend better than many," she said +at last. "There were three of us. There was my little brother Palemon, +who ran away last year to be a soldier--he was only fourteen. Jose +would not let me send searchers for him, and he may be dead. Then +there was only--only Lucita and me. You maybe remember Lucita?" + +Her question was wistful as if it would help her to even know he +remembered. He nodded his head in affirmation. + +"A golden child," he said. "I have seen pictured saints and angels in +great churches since the days in the hills, but never once so fair a +child as little Lucita." + +"Yes, white and gold, and an angel of innocence," she said musingly. +"Always she was that, always! And there was a sweetheart, Mariano +Avila, a good lad, and the wedding was to be. She was embroidering the +wedding shirt for Mariano when--God! God!" + +She got up suddenly and paced the floor, her arms hugging her +shoulders tight as if to keep from sobbing. He rose and stood +watching, but uttered no word. + +After a little she returned to the couch, and began to speak in a more +even tone. + +"There is so much to tell. Much happened. Conrad was driving Jose to +do many things not at first in their plans. Also there was more +drinking,--much more! It was Conrad made plans for the slave raids. He +no longer asked Jose's permission for anything; he gave command to the +men and Jose had to listen. Only one secret thing was yet hidden from +him, the hiding place of the guns from the north. Jose said if that +was uncovered he might as well give up his ranchos. In his heart he +could not trust Conrad. Each had a watch set on the other! Juan got +his death because he made rendezvous with the German. + +"That is how it was when the slave raid was made north of here, and +the most beautiful Indian girl killed herself somewhere in this desert +when there was no other way to escape the man;--the scar on the face +of Conrad was from her knife. It was a bad cut, and after that there +was trouble, and much drink and mad quarrels. Also it was that time +Juan Gonsalvo was shot and died from it. Juana, his sister, came in +secret for me while he could yet speak, and that was when----" + +She halted, closing her eyes as if to shut out some horror. He thought +she shrank from remembrance of how the secret of Soledad was given to +her, for Juan must have been practically a dead man when he gave it +up. After a moment she went on in the sad tone of the utterly +hopeless. + +"I speak of the mad quarrels of those two men, Ramon, but it was never +of that I had fear. The fear came each time the quarrel was done, and +they again swore to be friends, for in the new 'friend hours' of +drinking, strange things happened, strange wagers and strange gifts." + +Again she paused, and this time she lifted her eyes to Rotil. + +"Always I hated the German. I never carried a blade until after +his eyes followed me! He tried to play the prince, the great +gentleman, with me--a girl of the hills! Only once he touched my +hand, and I scoured it with sand afterwards while Jose laughed. But +the German did not laugh,--he only watched me! Once when Jose was +in a rage with me Conrad said he could make of me a great lady in his +own land if I would listen. Instead of listening I showed him my +knife. After that God only knows what he told against me, but Jose +became bitter--bitter, and jealous, and spies always at my back! + +"So Lucita and Mariano and I made plans. They were to marry, and we +three would steal away in secret and cross the border. That was +happiness to plan, for my life--my life was hell, so I thought! But I +had not yet learned what hell could be," she confessed drearily. + +"Tell me," he said very gently. Those who thought they knew "El +Gavilan," the merciless, would not have recognized his voice at that +moment. + +"No, I had not learned," she went on drearily. "I thought that to +carry a knife for myself made all safe--I did not know! I told you +Juana Gonsalvo came for me very secretly to hear the last words of +Juan. But I did not tell you we lived in the _casita_, little Lucita +and I. It is across a garden from the hacienda, and was once a +priest's house; that was in the days of the mother of Jose. It is very +sweet there under the rose vines, and it was sanctuary for us. When +Jose and the German had their nights of carouse we went there and +locked ourselves in. There were iron bars on the high windows, and +shutters of wood inside, so we were never afraid. I heard Conrad tell +Jose he was a fool not to blow it up with dynamite some day of fiesta. +It was the night after their great quarrel, and it was a terrible +time. They were pledging friendship once more in much wine. Officers +from the town were at the hacienda with women who were--well, I would +not go in, and Jose was wild. He came to the _casita_ and called +threats at me. I thought the German was with him, for he said Conrad +was right, and the house would be blown up with the first dynamite he +could spare,--but threats were no new thing to us! I tried to soothe +little Lucita by talk of the wedding, and all the pretty bride things +were taken out of the chest and spread on the bed; one _rebosa_ of +white I put over her shoulders, and the child was dancing to show me +she was no longer afraid----! + +"That was when Juana came to the window. I knew her voice and opened +the door. I did not want Lucita frightened again, so I did not let her +know a man was dying--only that a sick person wanted me for a +little--little minute, and I would be back. + +"I knew Juan Gonsalvo had been killed because he had been trusted far +enough,--I knew it! That thought struck me very hard, for I--I might +be the next, and I wanted first to send those two children happily out +of reach of sorrow. Strange it is that because she was first, the very +first in my heart, I went out that door in the night and for the first +time left her alone! But that is how it was; we had to be so +quick--and so silent--and it was her hand closed the door after us, +her hand on the bolt! + +"Juan Gonsalvo had only fought for life until he could see me, and +then the breath went. No one but I heard his whispers of the door of +the picture here in Soledad. He told me his death was murder, and his +last word was against Perez. It was only minutes, little minutes I +was there, and the way was not far, but when I went back through the +garden the door of the _casita_ stood wide and light streamed out! I +do not know how I was sure it was empty, but I was, and I seemed to go +dead inside, though I started to run. + +"To cross that garden was like struggling in a dream with bands about +my feet. I wake with that dream many nights--many!--I heard her before +I could reach the path. Her screams were not in the _casita_, but in +the hacienda. They were--they were--terrible! I tried to go--and then +I knew she had broken away--I could see her like a white spirit fly +back towards the light in the open door. The man following her tripped +in some way and fell, and I leaped over him to follow her. We got +inside and drew the bolt. + +"Then--But there are things not to be told--they belong to the dead! + +"Perez came there to the door and made demands for Conrad's +woman,--that is how he said it! He said she had gone to Conrad's +apartment of her own will and must go back. Lucita knelt at my feet in +her torn bridal garment and told how a woman had come as Juana had +come, and said that I wanted her. The child had no doubt, she +followed, and--and it was indeed to that drunken beast they took her! + +"Jose was also drunk, crazy drunk. He told me to stand away from that +door for they were coming in, also that he had made gift of Lucita to +his friend, and she must be given up. Then they began to fire guns in +the lock! It seemed a long, long time she held to me there and begged +me to save her, but it could not have been.... The lock gave way, and +only the bolt held. I clasped her close to me and whispered telling +her to pray, but I never took my eyes off the door. When I saw it +shaking, I made the sign of the cross over her, and the knife I had +carried for myself found her heart quickly! That is how I took on me +the shadow of murder, and that is why the priest threatens me with the +fires of hell if I do not repent--and I am not repenting, Ramon." + +"By God, no!" he muttered, staring into her defiant eyes. "That was a +fine thing, and your mother gave good blood to her children, Jocasta. +And then----?" + +"I laid her on the bed among her bridal laces, all white--white! Over +her breast I folded her still hands, and set a candle at her head, +though I dared not pray! The door was giving way. + +"I pushed back the bolt, also I spoke, but it did not seem me! That is +strange, but of a truth I did not know the voice I heard say: 'Enter, +her body is yours--and she no longer flees from you.' + +"'Ha! That is good sense at last!' said Jose, and Conrad laughed and +praised himself as a lover. + +"'I told you so!' he grunted. 'The little dear one knows that a nice +white German is not so bad!' + +"And again I heard the voice strange to me say, 'She knows nothing, +Jose--and she knows all!' + +"Jose stumbled in smiling, but Conrad, though drunk, stopped at the +door when he saw my hand with the knife. I thought my skirt covered it +as I waited for him--for the child had told me enough--I--I failed, +Ramon! His oath was a curious choked scream as I tried to reach him. +I do not know if it was the knife, or the dead girl on the bed made +him scream like that, but I knew then the German was at heart a +coward. + +"Jose was too strong for me, and the knife could not do its work. I +was struck, and my head muffled in a _serape_. After that I knew +nothing. + +"Days and nights went by in a locked room. I never got out of it until +I was chained hand and foot and sent north in a peon's ox-cart. Men +guarded me until Marto with other men waited for me on the trail. Jose +Perez could have had me killed, yes. Or he could have had me before +the judges for murder, but silence was the thing he most wanted--for +there is Dona Dolores Terain yet to be won. He has sent me north that +the General Terain, her father, will think me out of his life. One of +the guards told an alcalde I was his wife, he was sure that story +would be repeated back to Hermosillo! These are days in Sonora when no +one troubles about one woman or one child who is out of sight, and we +may be sure he and Conrad had a well-made story to tell. He knows it +is now all over with me, that I have a hate of which he is afraid, so +he does not have me shot;--he only sends me to Soledad in the +wilderness where fighting bands of the revolution cross all trails, +and his men have orders that I am not to go out of the desert alive." + +"I see!" said Rotil thoughtfully, "and--it is all gone now--the love +of him?" + +"All the love in the world is gone, amigo," she said, looking away +from him through the barred window where the night sky was growing +bright from the rising moon. "I was a child enchanted by the glory of +the world and his love words. Out of all that false glitter of life I +have walked, a blackened soul with a murderer's hand. How could love +be again with me?" + +He looked at her steadily, the slender thing of creamy skin and +Madonna eyes that had been the Dream of Youth to him, the one devotee +at an altar in whom he had believed--nothing in the humanity of the +world would ever have faith of his again! + +"That is so, Jocasta," he said at last, "you are a woman, and in the +shadow. The little golden singing one is gone out of your life, and +the new music must be different! I will think about that for you. Go +now to your sleep, for there is work of men to be done, and the night +scarce long enough for it." + +He opened the door for her and stood with bent head as she passed. His +men lounging in the patio could see that manner of deference, and +exchanged looks and comments. To the victor belong the spoils in +Mexico, and here was a sweeping victory,--yet the general looked the +other way! + +"Child, accompany the senora," he said kindly to Tula at the door. +"Chappo, bring Marto to see me. The new American capitan said he was a +man of value, and the lad was right. Work of importance waits for him +tonight." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +RAMON ROTIL DECIDES + + +Whatever the labors of Marto Cavayso for the night they appeared to +have been happy ones, for ere the dawn he came to Kit's door in great +good humor. + +"Amigo," he said jovially, "you played me a trick and took the woman, +but what the devil is that to hold a grudge for? My general has made +it all right, and we need help. You are to come." + +"Glad to," agreed Kit, "but what of this guard duty?" + +"Lock the door--there is but one key. Also the other men are not +sleeping inside the portal. It is by order of General Rotil." + +Perez awoke to glare at his false major-domo, but uttered no words. He +had not even attempted conversation with Kit since the evening before +when he stated that no Americano could fool him, and added his +conviction that the said Americano was a secret service man of the +states after the guns, and that Rotil was a fool! + +Kit found Rotil resting in the chapel, looking fagged and spent. + +"Marto is hell for work, and I had to stay by," he grumbled with a +grin. "Almost I sent for you. No other man knows, and behold!" + +Stacked on either side were packing cases of rifles and ammunition, +dozens and dozens of them. The dusty canvas was back in its place and +no sign to indicate where the cases had come from. + +"It is a great treasure chest, that," stated Rotil, "and we have here +as much as the mules can carry, for the wagons can't go with us. But I +want every case of this outside the portal before dawn comes, and it +comes quick! It means work and there are only three of us, and this +limp of mine's a trouble." + +"Well," said Kit, stripping off his coat, "if the two of you got them +up a ladder inside, and down the steps to this point I reckon three of +us can get them across that little level on record time. Say, your +crew will think it magic when guns and ammunition are let fall for you +by angels outside of the gate." + +"The thought will do no harm," said Rotil. "Also I am not sure but +that you speak true, and the magic was much needed when it came." + +They worked fast, and ere the first hint of dawn the cases were +stacked in imposing array on the plaza. And no sign by which they +could be traced. Rotil looked at them, and chuckled at the wonder the +men would feel. + +"It is time they were called, for it is a long trail, go you, Capitan, +and waken them, tell them to get ready the pack mules and get a +move." + +"All right, but if they ask questions?" + +"Look wise and say nothing! When they see the cases they will think +you either the devil or San Antonio to find what was lost in the +desert. It is a favor I am doing you, senor." + +"Sure you are! If the Indians ever get the idea that I can win guns +from out the air by hokus-pokus, I will be a big medicine chief, and +wax fat under honors in Sonora. Head me to them!" + +Rotil had seen to it that though sentinels stood guard at Soledad, +none were near enough the plaza to interfere with work of the night, +and Kit found their main camp down by the _acquia_ a quarter of a mile +away. He gave orders as directed for the pack animals and cook wagon +over which a son of the Orient presided. That stolid genius was +already slicing deer meat for broiling, and making coffee, of which he +donated a bowl to Kit, also a cart wheel of a _tortilla_ dipped in +gravy. Both were joyously accepted, and after seeing that the men were +aroused from the blankets, he returned to the hacienda full of +conjecture as to the developments to be anticipated from the night's +work. That reserve stock of ammunition might mean salvation to the +revolutionists. + +Rain had fallen somewhere to the east in the night time, and as the +stars faded there were lines of palest silver and palest gold in the +grays of dawn on the mountains. As he walked leisurely up the slight +natural terrace to the plaza, he halted a moment and laughed aloud +boyishly at a discovery of his, for he had solved the century-old +riddle of the view of El Alisal seen from the "portal" of Soledad. The +portal was not anyone of the visible doors or gateways of the old +mission, it was the hidden portal of the picture,--once leading to a +little balcony under which the neophytes had gathered for the morning +blessing and daily commands of their superiors! + +That explained its height from the floor. The door had at some later +period been sealed, and a room built against it from the side towards +the mountain. In the building of the ranch house that old strong +walled section of the mission had been incorporated as the private +chapel of some pious ranchero. It was also very, very simple after one +knew of that high portal masked by the picture, and after one traced +the line of vision from the outside and realized all that was hidden +by the old harness room and the fragmentary old walls about it. He +chuckled to think of how he would astonish Cap Pike with the story +when he got back. He also recalled that Conrad had unburdened his +heart to him with completeness because he was so confident an American +never _could_ get back! + +He was speculating on that ever-present problem when he noted that +light shone yellow in the dawn from the plaza windows, and on entering +the patio it took but a glance to see that some new thing was afoot. + +Padre Andreas, with his head upholstered in strips of the table linen, +was pacing the patio reciting in a murmuring undertone, some prayer +from a small open volume, though there was not yet light enough to +read. Valencia was bustling into the room of Dona Jocasta with an olla +of warm water, while Tula bore a copper tray with fruit and coffee. + +"This is of a quickness, but who dare say it is not an act for the +blessing of God?" the padre said replying in an absent-minded manner +to the greeting of Kit. + +"True, Padre, who can say?" agreed the latter politely, without the +slightest idea of what was meant. + +But Marto, who fairly radiated happiness since his reinstatement, +approached with the word that General Rotil would have him at +breakfast, for which time was short. + +"It is my regret that you do not ride with me, senor," said Rotil as +he motioned him to a seat. "But there is work to be done at Soledad +for which I shall give you the word. I am hearing that you would help +recover some of the poor ones driven south from Palomitas, if they be +left alive!" + +"I am pledged to that, General," stated Kit simply. + +"Who has your pledge?" + +"A dead man who cannot free me from it." + +"By God!" remarked Rotil in a surprised tone. "By God, Don Pajarito, +that is good! And it may be when that pledge is kept, you may be free +to join my children in the fight? I make you a capitan at once, +senor." + +"Perhaps, after----" + +"Sure,--after," agreed Rotil chuckling. "For I tell you there is work +of importance here, and when I am gone the thinking will be up to you! +What message did you give the muleteers?" + +"To bring the animals to the plaza, and pack for the trail all the +provisions found there." + +"Provisions is good! They will burn with curiosity. There could be fun +in that if we had time to laugh and watch them, but there is no time. +Marto!" + +Marto, on guard at the door, came forward. + +"Has the Senor Don Jose Perez received my message for conference?" + +"Yes, my General. Except that he wished your messenger in hell, he +will be happy to join you according to order." + +"Good!" grinned Rotil, "it is well to conduct these matters with grace +and ceremony where a lady is concerned. Take him to the _sala_; it is +illuminated in his honor. Come, senor, I want for witness an Americano +who is free from Sonora influence." + +"Am I?" queried Kit dubiously. "I'm not so sure! I seem all tangled up +with Sonora influences of all shades and varieties." + +Rotil's jocularity disappeared as he entered the sala where quill pen +and ink and some blank sheets from an old account book gave a +business-like look to the table where four candles made a radiance. + +Perez was there, plainly nervous by reason of the mocking civility of +Marto. His eyes followed Rotil,--questioning, fearful! + +The latter passed him without notice and seated himself at the table. + +"Call the padre," he said to Marto. But that was scarce needed as the +padre was hovering near the door waiting for the word. He seated +himself by the table at a motion from Rotil. + +The latter turned for the first time to Perez, and bestowed on him a +long, curious look. + +"They tell me, senor, that you were about to take as bride a lovely +lady?" + +Perez frowned in perplexity. Evidently this was the last subject he +had expected to hear touched upon. + +"Perhaps so," he said at last, "but if this is a question of ransom we +will not trouble the lady. I will arrange your figures for that." + +"This is not a matter of figures, Senor Perez. It is a marriage we are +interested in, and it is all well arranged for you. The padre here +will draw up the contract of marriage in the old form; it is better +than the manner of today. You will give him your name, the names of +your parents, the name of your parish and abode." + +"I will see you damned first!" + +"And, Padre," continued Rotil, giving no heed to that heartfelt +remark, "use less than one-third of the page, for there must be space +for the record of the bride, and below that the contract between the +happy two with all witnesses added." + +"If you think--" began Perez furiously. + +"I do not think; I know, senor! Later you also will know," Rotil +promised with grim certainty. "This marriage is of interest to me, and +has been too long delayed. It is now for you to say if you will be a +bridegroom in chains, or if it please you to have the irons off." + +"This cannot be! I tell you a marriage is not legal if----" + +"Oh, senor! Your experience is less than I thought," interrupted +Rotil, "and you are much mistaken,--much! We are all witnesses here. +Senor Rhodes will be pleased to unfasten those heavy chains to oblige +the lady. The chains might not be a pleasant memory to her. Women have +curious prejudices about such things! But it must be understood that +you stand quiet for the ceremony. If not, this gun of mine will manage +it that you stay quiet forever." + +Perez stood up, baffled and beaten, but threatening. + +"Take them off, you!" he snarled, "though it is a hell of a +ransom,--and that woman will pay. Let no one forget that her pay will +be heavy!" + +"That paying is for afterwards!" decided Rotil airily, "but here and +now we men would see a wedding before we leave Soledad. Capitan +Rhodes, will you bring in Dona Jocasta?" + +Kit, in some wonder, went on the errand, and found the women eager to +deck her with blossoms and give some joyous note to the wedding of the +dawn, but she sat cold and white with the flowers of the desert +springtime about her, and forbade them. + +"He terrifies me much in sending that word to wake me with this +morning," she protested. "I tell you I will kill myself before I live +one more day of life with Jose Perez! I told him all my heart in the +_sala_ last night, and it means not anything to Ramon Rotil;--he would +tie me in slavery to that man I hate!" + +"Senora, I do not know what the general means, but I know it is not +that. His work is for your service, even though appearance is +otherwise." + +"You think that?" + +"I almost know it." + +"Then I go," she decided. "I think I would have to go anyway, but the +heart would be more heavy, _Santa Maria_!--but this place of Soledad +is strange in its ways." + +It was the first time he had seen her frightened, but her mouth +trembled, and her eyes sought the floor. + +He reached out and took her hand; it was terribly cold. + +"Courage, and trust Rotil," he said reassuringly. "When you sift out +the whole situation that is about all left to any of us here in the +desert." + +He led her along the corridor, the women following. Men with pack +animals were gathering in wonder around the cases in the plaza, and +through the portal they saw the impromptu bridal procession, and fell +silent. The Americano appeared to have a hand in every game,--and that +was a matter of wonder. + +As they entered, Padre Andreas was reading aloud the brief history of +Jocasta Benicia Sandoval, eldest daughter of Teresa Sandoval and +Ignatius Sanchez of Santa Ysobel in the Sierras. Padre Andreas had +balked at writing the paternity of children of Teresa Sandoval, but a +revolver in Rotil's hand was the final persuader. + +"This is to be all an honest record for which there are witnesses in +plenty," he stated. "Teresa Sandoval had only one lover,--even though +Padre Ignatius Sanchez did call her daughters nieces of his! But the +marriage record of Senora Jocasta Sandoval shall have only truth." +Jocasta wrote her name to the statement as directed, and noted that +Jose had already signed. + +She did not look at him, but moved nearer to Rotil and kept her eyes +on the table. He noted her shrinking and turned to the priest. + +"Senor," he said, "these two people will write their names together on +the contract, but this is a marriage without kisses or clasping of +hands. It is a civil contract bound by word of mouth, and written +promise, under witness of the church. Read the service." + +There was a slight hesitation on the part of Perez when asked if he +would take Jocasta Sandoval as wife, but the gun of Rotil hastened his +decision, and his voice was defiantly loud. Jocasta followed quietly, +and then in a benediction which was emptiest mockery, Jose Perez and +Jocasta Sandoval were pronounced man and wife. + +"May I now go?" she murmured, but the contract was signed by all +present before Rotil nodded to Kit. + +"You will have the honor of conducting the Dona Jocasta Perez to +breakfast," he said. "The rest of us have other business here. Senora, +will you do us the favor to outline to this gentleman the special +tasks you would like attention given at once. There are some Indian +slaves in the south for whom the Palomitas people ask help. You are +now in a position to be of service there, and it would be a good act +with which to establish a new rule at Soledad." + +"Thanks, General Rotil," she answered, rather bewildered by the +swiftness with which he turned over to her the duties devolving upon +her newly acquired position. "I am not wise in law, but what I can I +will do." + +"And that will be nothing!" volunteered Perez. "A woman of my name +will not make herself common in the markets or law courts,--to have +her Indian ancestry cast in my teeth!" + +"As to that," said Rotil humorously, "there is not so much! The father +of Teresa Sandoval was the priestly son of a marquise of Spain! only +one drop of Indian to three of the church in the veins of Senora +Perez, so you perceive she has done honor to your house. You will +leave your name in good hands when God calls you to judgment." + +Kit noted the sudden tension of Perez at the last sentence, and a look +of furtive, fearful questioning in his eyes as he looked at Rotil, who +was folding the marriage contract carefully, wrapping it in a sheet +of paper for lack of an envelope. + +But, as squire of dames, Kit was too much occupied to give further +heed to business in the _sala_. Dona Jocasta expressed silently a +desire to get away from there as soon as might be; she looked white +and worn, and cast at Rotil a frightened imploring glance as she clung +to Kit's arm. He thought he would have to carry her before they +crossed the patio. + +"When Ramon laughs like that--" she began and then went silent, +shuddering. Kit, remembering the look in the eyes of Perez, did not +care to ask questions. + +The older women went back to the kitchen to finish breakfast and +gossip over the amazing morning, but Tula remained near Dona +Jocasta,--seeing all and her ears ever open. + +Padre Andreas followed, under orders from Rotil, who told him to do +any writing required of him by the Senora Perez, and arrange for safe +couriers south when she had messages ready. His knowledge of villages +and rancheros was more dependable than that of the vaqueros; he would +know the names of safe men. + +Dona Jocasta sighed, and looked from one to the other appealingly. + +"It is much, very much to plan for before the sun is showing," she +murmured. "Is there not some little time to think and consider?" + +"Even now the men of Ramon Rotil are packing the beasts for the +trail," said the priest, "and he wants all your plans and desires +stated before he goes east." + +"_My_ desires!" and her smile held bitterness as she turned to Kit. +"You, senor, have never seen the extent of the Perez holdings in +Sonora. They are so vast that one simple woman like me would be lost +in any plans of change there. Jose Perez meant what he said;--no woman +can take control while he lives." + +"Still, there are some things a woman could do best," ventured Kit, +"the things of mercy;" and he mentioned the Palomitas slaves---- + +"That is true. Also I am in debt for much friendship, and this child +of Palomitas must have the thing she asks. Tell me the best way." + +"Learn from Perez which ranch of General Estaban Terain shelters the +political prisoners taken from the district of Altar," suggested Kit. +"Either Perez or Conrad can tell." + +Dona Jocasta looked at the priest. + +"Jose Perez will hate you for this marriage, and we must seek safety +for you in some other place," she said kindly, "but you are the one +most able to learn this thing. Will it please you to try?" + +Padre Andreas went out without a word. In his heart he resented the +manner of the marriage ceremony, and scarce hoped Perez would be +acquiescent or disposed to further converse, and he personally had no +inclination to ask help of the General Rotil. + +He was surprised as he crossed the patio to see Perez, still free from +chains, walking through the portal to the plaza with Marto Cavayso +beside him. He was led past the ammunition cases, and the men in their +jubilant work of packing the mules. Far out up the valley to the north +a cloud of dust caught the red glow of sunrise, and the priest knew +the vaqueros with the Soledad cattle were already on the trail for the +main body of revolutionists in the field. + +Saddle horses were held a little apart in the plaza, and Padre Andreas +hastened his steps lest they mount and be gone, but Marto spoke to him +sharply. + +"Walk in front to do your talking," he suggested. "This gentleman is +not inviting company for his _pasear_." + +Jose Perez turned a startled, piercing look on the priest. + +"Did Rotil send you?" he demanded. + +"No, senor, I came back to ask a simple thing concerning the Altar +people who went south for Yucatan. Can you give me the name of the +ranch where they are held?" + +"I can,--but I give nothing for nothing!" he said bitterly. "Already I +am caught in a trap by that marriage, and I will see that the +archbishop hears of your share in it. Nothing for nothing!" + +"Yet there may be some service I can give, or send south, for you," +said the priest. + +Perez regarded him doubtfully. + +"Yes--you might get a message to General Terain that I am a prisoner, +on my own estate--if Rotil does not have you killed on the road!" + +"I could try," agreed the priest. "I--I might secure permission." + +"Permission?" + +"It is true, senor. I could not attempt it without the word of General +Rotil," announced Padre Andreas. "Of what use to risk the life of a +courier for no purpose? But I make a bargain: if you will tell which +ranch the Altar Indians were driven to I will undertake to get word +for you to a friend. Of course I can get the information from the +German if you say no." + +"Damn the German!" swore Perez. + +"Good Father," said Marto, "you halt us on the way to join the +advance, and we have no mind to take all the dust of the mule train. +Make your talk of fewer words." + +"Shall I go to the German?" repeated the priest. + +"No,--let him rot alone! The plantation is Linda Vista, and Conrad +lied to General Terain to get them housed there. He thought they were +rebels who raided ranches in Altar,--political prisoners. Take General +Terain word that I am a prisoner of the revolutionists, and----" + +"Senor, the sun is too high for idle talk," said Marto briefly, "and +your saddle waits." + +The priest held the stirrup for Jose Perez, who took the courtesy as a +matter of course, turning in the saddle and casting a bitter look at +the sun-flooded walls of Soledad. + +"To marry a mistress and set her up as the love of another lover--_two_ +other lovers!--is not the game of a man," he growled moodily. "If it was +to do over, I----" + +"Take other thoughts with you," said Padre Andreas sadly, "and my son, +go with God!" + +He lifted his hand in blessing, and stood thus after they had turned +away. Perez uttered neither thanks nor farewell. + +The men, busy with the final packing, stared after him with much +curiosity, and accosted the priest as he paced thoughtfully back to +the portal. + +"Padre, is this ammunition a gift of Don Jose, or is it magic from the +old monks who hid the red gold of El Alisal and come back here to +guard it and haunt Soledad?" inquired one of the boldest. + +"There are no hauntings, and that red gold has led enough men astray +in the desert. It is best forgotten." + +"But strange things do come about," insisted another man. "Marto +Cavayso swore he had witchcraft put on him by the green, jewel eyes of +Dona Jocasta, and you see that since she follows our general he has +the good luck, and this ammunition comes to him from God knows +where!" + +"It may be the Americano knows," hazarded the first speaker. "He took +her from Marto, and rides ever beside her. Who proves which is the +enchanter?" + +"It is ill work to put the name of 'enchantment' against any mortal," +chided the priest. + +"That may be," conceded the soldier, "but we have had speech of this +thing, and look you!--Dona Jocasta rode in chains until the Americano +crossed her trail, and Don Ramon, and all of us, searched in vain for +the American guns, until the Americano rode to Soledad! Enchantment or +not, he has luck for his friends!" + +"As you please!" conceded the priest with more indifference than he +felt. The Americano certainly did not belong to Soledad, and the +wonder was that Ramon Rotil gave him charge of so beauteous a lady. +Padre Andreas could easily perceive how the followers of Rotil thought +it enchantment, or any other thing of the devil. + +Instinctively he disapproved of Rhodes' position in the group; his +care-free, happy smile ill fitted the situation at Soledad. Before the +stealing away of Dona Jocasta she had been as a dead woman who walked; +her sense of overwhelming sin was gratifying in that it gave every +hope of leading to repentance, but on her return the manner of her +behavior was different. She rode like a queen, and even the marriage +was accepted as a justice! Padre Andreas secretly credited the heretic +Americano with the change, and Mexican girls put no such dependence on +a man outside of her own family,--unless that man was a lover! + +He saw his own influence set aside by the stranger and the rebel +leader, and with Dona Jocasta as a firebrand he feared dread and awful +things now that Rotil had given her power. + +He found her with bright eyes and a faint flush in her cheeks over the +letter Kit was writing to the south. It was her first act as the wife +of Jose Perez, and it was being written to the girl whom Perez had +hoped to marry! + +Kit got considerable joy in framing her request as follows: + + To + Senorita Dolores Terain, + Linda Vista Rancho, Sonora, + + HONORED SENORITA: + + As a woman who desires to secure justice and mercy for some poor + peons of our district of Altar, I venture to address you, to whom + womanly compassion must belong as does beauty and graciousness. + + This is a work for the charity of women, rather than debates in + law courts by men. + + I send with this the names of those poor people who were herded + south for slavery by Adolf Conrad, a German who calls himself + American. To your father, the illustrious General Terain, this man + Conrad represented these poor people as rebels and raiders of this + region. It is not true. They were simple peaceful workers on + little ranches. + + They were given shelter at your rancho of Linda Vista to work for + their food until they could be deported, but I send with this a + payment of gold with which to repay any care they have been, or + any debts incurred. If it is not enough, I pledge myself to the + amount you will regard as justice. + + Dear Senorita, my husband, Don Jose, warns me that women cannot + manage such affairs, but we can at least try. Parents wait here + for sons and daughters, and little children wait for their + parents. Will you aid in the Christian task of bringing them + together quickly? + + At your service with all respect, + JOCASTA BENICIA PEREZ, + Soledad Rancho, Sonora. + +"But you write here of gold sent by messenger, senor!--I have no gold, +only words can I send," protested Dona Jocasta helplessly. + +"Ah, but the words are more precious than all," Kit assured her. "It +is the right word we have waited for, and you alone could give it, +senora. These people have held the gold ransom while waiting that +word, and this child can bring it when the time is right." + +Dona Jocasta regarded Tula doubtfully; she certainly gave no +appearance of holding wealth to redeem a pueblo. + +"You,--the little one to whom even the Deliverer listens?" she said +kindly. "But the wealth of a little Indian ranch would not seem riches +to this illustrious lady, the Dona Dolores Terain." + +"Yet will I bring riches to her or to you, Excellencia, if only my +mother and my sister are coming again to Palomitas," said Tula +earnestly. + +"But whence comes wealth to you in a land where there is no longer +wealth for anyone?" + +Kit listened with little liking for the conversation after the padre +entered. It was a direct question, and to be answered with directness, +and he watched Tula anxiously lest she say the wrong thing. But she +told the straight truth in a way to admit of no question. + +"Long ago my father got gold for sacred prayer reasons; he hid it +until he was old; when he died he made gift of it to me that my mother +and sister buy freedom. That is all, Excellencia, but the gold is good +gold." + +She slipped her hand under her skirt and unfastened the leather +strings of the burro-skin belt,--it fell heavily on the tile floor. +She untied the end of it and poured a handful on the table. + +"You see, senora, there is riches enough to go with your words, but +never enough to pay for them." + +"_Santa Maria!_" cried the amazed priest. "That is _red_ gold! In what +place was it found?" + +Tula laid her hand over the nuggets and faced him. + +"That secret was the secret of Miguel who is dead." + +"But--some old Indian must know----" + +Tula shook her head with absolute finality. + +"No old Indian in all the world knows that!" she said. "This was a +secret of the youth of Miguel, and only when old and dying did he +give it for his people. This I,--Tula, child of Miguel tell you." + +Padre Andreas looked from the girl to Kit and back again, knowing that +the death of Miguel was a recent thing since it had occurred after the +stealing of the women. + +"Where did your father die?" he asked. + +"In the hills of the desert." + +"And--who had absolving and burial of him?" + +"Absolving I do not know, but this man, his friend, had the making of +the grave," she said, indicating Kit, and the eyes of the priest +rested again on Kit with a most curious searching regard. Evidently +even this little Indian stray of the desert arrived at good fortune +under the friendship of the American stranger,--and it was another +added to the list of enchantings! + +"Ah," he murmured meaningly, "then this strange senor also has the +knowing of this Indian gold? Is it truly gold of the earth, or +witches' gold of red clay?" and he went nearer, reaching his hand to +touch it. + +"Why all this question when the child offers it for a good Christian +use?" demanded Dona Jocasta. "See, here is a piece of it heavy enough +to weigh down many lumps of clay, and north or south it will prove +welcome ransom. It is a miracle sent by the saints at this time." + +"Would the saints send the red gold of El Alisal to a heretic instead +of a son of the church?" he asked. "And this is that gold for which +the padres of Soledad paid with their lives long ago. There was never +such red gold found in Sonora as that, and the church had its own +claim on it;--it is mission gold!" + +"No, not now," said Tula, addressing Dona Jocasta,--"truly not now! +They claimed it long ago, but the holding of it was a thing not for +them. Fire came out of the clouds to kill them there, and no one saw +them alive anymore, and no other priest ever found the gold. This much +is found by Miguel, for a dead man's promise!" + +"The girl speaks straight, senora," ventured Kit. "I have already told +General Rotil of the promise, but no good will come of much talk over +the quality of gold for that ransom. To carry that message south and +bring back the women is a task for council, but outside these walls, +no tongue must speak of the gold, else there would be no safety for +this maid." + +"Yet a priest may ask how an Americano comes far from his home to +guard gold and a maid in Sonora?" retorted Padre Andreas. "Strange +affairs move these days in Altar--guns, ammunition, and the gold of +dead men! In all these things you have a say, senor, yet you are but +young in years, and----" + +"Padre," interrupted Dona Jocasta with a note of command, "he was old +enough to save this child from starvation in the desert, and he was +old enough to save me when even you could no longer save me, so why +object because he has guarded wealth, and means to use it in a way of +mercy? Heretic he may be, but he has the trust of Ramon Rotil, and of +me. Also it is forbidden to mention this belt or what it covers. I +have given my word, and this is no time to halt the task we have set. +It would better serve those lost people if you help us find a +messenger who is safe." + +It was the first time the new Senora Perez assumed a tone of +authority at Soledad, and Kit Rhodes thanked his lucky stars that she +was arrayed with him instead of against him, for her eyes glowed green +lightning on the priest whose curiosity had gotten him into trouble. +Kit could not really blame him, for there was neither priest nor peon +of the land who had not had visions of conquest if only the red gold +of the Alisal should be conveniently stumbled upon! + +And Tula listened to the words of Dona Jocasta as she would have +listened to a god. + +"I go," she said eagerly. "The trail it is strange to me, but I will +find that way. I think I find in the dark that trail on which the +mother of me was going!" + +Dona Jocasta patted the hand of the girl, but looked at Kit. "That +trail is not for a maid," she said meaningly. "I came over it, and +know." + +"I think it is for me," he answered. "The promise was mine. I know +none of the people, but the names are written. It is eighty miles." + +"Three days." + +"More, double that," he said thoughtfully, and the eyes of Tula met +his in disapproval. It was the merest hint of a frown, but it served. +She could do the errand better than she could guard the rest of the +gold. If her little belt was lost it was little, but if his store +should be found it would be enough to start a new revolution in +Sonora;--the men of Rotil and the suspicious padre would unite on the +treasure trail. It was the padre who gave him most uneasiness, because +the padre was guessing correctly! The dream of a mighty church of the +desert to commemorate all the ruined missions of the wilderness, was +a great dream for the priest of a little pueblo, and the eyes of the +Padre Andreas were alight with keen,--too keen, anticipation. + +"I go," stated Tula again. "No other one is knowing my people." + +"That is a true word," decided Padre Andreas, "a major-domo of evil +mind at Linda Vista could take the gold and send north whatever unruly +vagabonds he had wished to be free from. Let the maid go, and I can +arrange to see her there safe." + +This kind offer did not receive the approval deserved. Kit wished no +man on the trail with Tula who knew of the gold, and Tula herself was +not eager to journey into unknown regions with a man of religion, who +had already learned from Valencia of the elaborate ceremony planned +for a "Judas day!" Little though Tula knew of churchly observances, +she had an instinctive fear that she would be detained in the south +too long to officiate in this special ceremony on which she had set +her heart. + +"Not with a priest will I go," she announced. "He would shut me in a +school, and in that place I would die. Clodomiro can go, or Isidro, +who is so good and knowing all our people." + +"That is a good thought," agreed Dona Jocasta, who had no desire that +Padre Andreas meet the family of Terain and recount details of the +Perez marriage,--not at least until she had worn her official title a +little longer and tested the authority it gave her. "That is a good +thought, for I have no wish that my house be left without a priest. +Senor Rhodes, which man is best?" + +But before Kit could answer Ramon Rotil stood in the door, and his +eyes went to the papers on the table. Tula had recovered her belt, and +fastened it under the _manta_ she wore. + +"So! you are working in council, eh?" he asked. "And have arrived at +plans? First your own safety, senora?" + +"No, senor,--first the bringing back of the people driven off by the +slavers. The letter is written; this child is to take it because the +people are her people, but a safe man is wanted, and these two I +cannot let go. You know Jose Perez, and his wife must not be without a +man of religion as guard, yet he alone would not save me from others, +hence the American senor----" + +"Sure, that is a safe thought," and he took the seat offered by Kit. +But he shook his head after listening to their suggestions. + +"No. Isidro is too old, and Clodomiro with his flying ribbands of a +would-be lover, is too young for that trail. You want--you want----" + +He paused as his mind evidently went searching among his men for one +dependable. Then he smiled at Kit. + +"You saved me the right man, senor! Who would be better than the +foreman of Soledad? Would it not be expected that Senora Perez would +send the most important of the ranchmen? Very well then. Marto is +safe, he will go." + +"But Marto--" began Padre Andreas, when Rotil faced about, staring him +into silence. + +"Marto will return here to Soledad today," he said, and the face of +the priest went pale. It was as if he had said that the task of Marto +on the east trail would be ended. + +"Yes, Marto Cavayso has been at Hermosillo," assented Dona Jocasta. +"He will know all the ways to arrive quickly." + +"That will be attended to. Will you, senor, see to it that horse and +provision are made ready for the trail? And you, senora? Soledad in +the wilderness is no good place for a lady. When this matter of the +slaves is arranged, will it please you to ride south, or north? Troops +of the south will be coming this way;--it will be a land of soldiers +and foraging." + +"How shall I answer that?" murmured Dona Jocasta miserably. "In the +south Jose Perez may make life a not possible thing for me,--and in +the north I would be a stranger." + +"Jose Perez will not make trouble; yet trouble might be made,--at +first," said Rotil avoiding her eyes, and turning again to Kit. +"Senor, by the time Marto gets back from the south, the pack mules +will be here again. Until they are gone from Soledad I trust you in +charge of Senora Perez. She must have a manager, and there is none so +near as you." + +"At her service," said Kit promptly, "but this place----" + +"Ai, that is it," agreed Rotil. "North is the safer place for women +alone, and you--did you not say that on Granados there were friends?" + +"Why, yes, General," replied Kit. "My friend, Captain Pike, is +somewhere near, and the owner of Granados is a lady, and among us +we'll do our best. But it's a hard trip, and I've only one gun." + +"You will take your choice of guns, horses, or men," decided Rotil. +"That is your work. Also you will take with you the evidence of Senora +Perez on that matter of the murder. The padre can also come in on +that,--so it will be service all around." + +Chappo came to the door to report that all was ready for the trail, +and Rotil stood up, and handed to Dona Jocasta the marriage contract. + +"Consider the best way of protecting this until you reach an alcalde +and have a copy made and witnessed," he said warningly. "It protects +your future. The fortunes of war may take all the rest of us, but the +wife of Perez needs the record of our names; see to it!" + +She looked up at him as if to speak, but no words came. He gazed +curiously at her bent head, and the slender hands over the papers. In +his life of turmoil and bloodshed he had halted to secure for her the +right to a principality. In setting his face to the east, and the +battle line, he knew the chance was faint that he would ever see her +again, and his smile had in it a touch of self-derision at the +thought,--for after all he was nothing to her! + +"So--that is all," he said, turning away. "You come with me a little +ways, senor, and to you, senora, _adios_!" + +"Go with God, Ramon Rotil," she murmured, "and if ever a friend is of +need to you, remember the woman to whom you gave justice and a name!" + +"_Adios_," he repeated, and his spurs tinkled as he strode through the +patio to the portal where the saddle horses were waiting. The pack +mules were already below the mesa, and reached in a long line over the +range towards the canon of the eastern trail. + +"You have your work cut out," he said to Kit. "For one thing, Marto +Cavayso will carry out orders, but you must not have him enter a room +where Dona Jocasta may be. It would be to offend her and frighten him. +He swears to the saints that he was bewitched. That is as may be, but +it is an easy way out! When the pack mules come back, and Marto is +here, it is for you two to do again the thing we did last night. I may +need Soledad on another day, and would keep all its secrets. After you +have loaded the last of the guns it is best for you to go quickly. +Here is a permit in case you cross any land held by our men;--it is +for you, your family, and all your baggage without molestation. Senora +Perez has the same. This means you can take over the border any of the +furnishings of Soledad required by the lady for a home elsewhere. The +wagons sent north by Perez will serve well for that, and they are +hers." + +"But if he should send men of his own to interfere----" + +"He won't," stated Rotil. "You are capitan, and Soledad is under +military rule. There is only one soul here over which your word is not +law. I have given the German Judas to your girl, and the women can +have their way with him. He is as a dead man; call her." + +There was no need, for Tula had followed at a discreet distance, and +from beside a pillar gazed regretfully after her hero, the Deliverer, +whom she felt every man should follow. + +"_Oija, muchacha!_" he said as Kit beckoned her forward, "go to +Fidelio. He is over there filling the cantins at the well. Tell him to +give you the key to the quarters of El Aleman, and hearken you!--I +wash my hands of him from this day. If you keep him, well, but if he +escapes, the loss is to you. I go, and not again will Ramon Rotil trap +a Judas for your hellishness." + +Tula sped to Fidelio, secured the key and was back to hold the stirrup +of Rotil as he was helped to the saddle. + +"If God had made me a man instead of a maid, I would ride the world as +your soldier, my General," she said, holding the key to her breast as +an amulet. + +"Send your lovers instead," he said, and laughed, "for you will have +them when you get more beef on your bones. _Adios_, soldier girl!" + +She peered up at him under her mane of black hair. + +"Myself,--I think that is true," she stated gravely, "also my lovers, +when they come, must follow you! When I see my own people safe in +Palomitas it may be that I, Tula, will also follow you,--and the help +of the child of Miguel may not be a little help, my General." + +Kit Rhodes alone knew what she meant. Her intense admiration for the +rebel leader of the wilderness had brought the glimmer of a dream to +her;--the need of gold was great as the need of guns, and for the +deliverer of the tribes what gift too great? + +But the others of the guard laughed at the crazy saying of the brown +wisp of a girl. They had seen women of beauty give him smiles, and +more than one girl follow his trail for his lightest word, but to none +of them did it occur that this one called by him the young crane, or +the possessor of many devils, could bring more power to his hand than +a regiment of the women who were comrades of a light hour. + +But her solemnity amused Rotil, and he swept off his hat with +exaggerated courtesy. + +"I await the day, Tulita. Sure, bring your lovers,--and later your +sons to the fight! While you wait for them tell Marto Cavayso he is to +have a care of you as if you were the only child of Ramon Rotil! I too +will have a word with him of that. See to it, Capitan of the roads, +and _adios!_" + +He grinned at the play upon the name of Rhodes, and whirled his horse, +joining his men, who sat their mounts and watched at a little +distance. + +Within the portal was gathered all those left of the household of +Soledad to whom the coming and the going of the revolutionary leader +was the great event of their lives, and all took note of the title of +"Capitan" and the fact that the Americano and the Indian girl had his +last spoken words. + +They had gone scarce a mile when Fidelio spurred his horse back and +with Mexican dash drew him back on his haunches as Kit emerged from +the corridor. + +"General Rotil's compliments," he said with a grin, "and Marto will +report to you any event requiring written record,--and silence!" + +"Say that again and say it slow," suggested Kit. + +"That is the word as he said it, Capitan, 'requiring the writing of +records, and--silence!'" + +"I get you," said Kit, and with a flourish and a clatter, Fidelio was +soon lost in the dust. + +Kit was by no means certain that he did "get" him. He felt that he had +quite enough trouble without addition of records and secrecy for acts +of the Deliverer. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE RETURN OF TULA + + +The sentinel palms of Soledad were sending long lines of shadows +toward the blue range of the Sierras, and gnarled old orange trees in +the ancient mission garden drenched the air with fragrance from many +petals. + +There had been a sand storm the day before, followed by rain, and all +the land was refreshed and sparkling. The pepper trees swung tassels +of bloom and the flaming coral of the occotilla glowed like tropic +birds poised on wide-reaching wands of green. Meadow larks echoed each +other in the tender calls of nesting time, and from the jagged peaks +on the east, to far low hills rising out of a golden haze in the west, +there was a great quiet and peace brooding over the old mission +grounds of the wilderness. + +Dona Jocasta paced the outer corridor, watched somberly by Padre +Andreas on whom the beauty of the hour was lost. + +"Is your heart turned stone that you lift no hand, or speak no word +for the soul of a mortal?" he demanded. "Already the terrible women of +Palomitas are coming to wait for their Judas, and this is the morning +of the day!" + +"It is no work of mine, Padre," she answered wearily. "I am +sick,--here!--that the beast has been all these days and nights under +a roof near me. I know how the women feel, though I think I would not +wait, as they have waited,--for Good Friday." + +"It is murder in your heart to harbor such wickedness of thought," he +insisted. "Your soul is in jeopardy that you do not contemplate +forgiveness. Even though a man be a heretic, a priest must do his +office when it comes to a sentence of death. After all--he is a +human." + +"I do not know that," replied Dona Jocasta thoughtfully, and she sank +into a rawhide chair in the shade of a pillar. "Listen, Padre. I am +not learned in books, but I have had new thoughts with me these days. +Don Pajarito is telling me of los Alemanos all over the world;--souls +they have not, and serpents and toads are their mothers! Here in +Mexico we have our flag from old Indian days with the eagle and the +snake. Once I heard scholars in Hermosillo talk about that; they said +it was from ancient times of sky worship, and the bird was a bird of +stars,--also the serpent." + +Padre Andreas lifted his brows in derision at the childishness of +Indian astrology. + +"Myself, I think the Indian sky knowers had the prophet sight," went +on Dona Jocasta. "They make their eagle on the standard and they put +the serpent there of the reason that some day a thing of poison would +crawl to the nest of the eagle of Mexico to comrade there. It has +crawled over the seas for that, Padre, and the beak and claws and wing +of the eagle must all do battle to kill the head and the heart of +it;--for the heart of a serpent dies hard, and they breed and hatch +their eggs everywhere in the soil of Mexico. Senor Padre, the Indian +women of Palomitas are right!--the girl Tula is a child of the eagle, +and her stroke at the heart of the German snake will be a true stroke. +I will not be one to give the weak word for mercy." + +Her gaze, through half-closed lids, was directed towards the far trail +of the canon where moving dots of dark marked the coming of the +Palomitas women. A ray of reflected light touched the jewel green of +her eyes like shadowed emeralds in their dusky casket, and the priest, +constantly proclaiming the probable loss of her soul, could not but +bring his glance again and again to the wondrous beauty of her. She +had bloomed like a royal rose in the days of serene rest at Soledad. + +"If the heretic Americano gives you these thoughts which are not +Christian, it will be a day of good luck when you see the last of +him," was his cold statement as he watched her. "My mind is not well +satisfied as to his knowledge of secret things here in Sonora. The +Indians say he is an enchanter or Ramon Rotil would never have left +him here as capitan with you,--and that belt of gold----" + +"But it was not the belt of the Americano!" + +"No, but he _knows_! I tell you that gold is of the gold lost before +we were born,--the red gold of the padres' mine!" + +"But the old women are telling me that the gold was Indian gold long +before Spanish priests saw the land! Does the Indian girl then not +have first right?" + +"None has right ahead of the church, since all those pagans are under +the rule of church! They are benighted heathen who must come under +instruction and authority, else are they as beasts of the field." + +"Still,--if the girl makes use of her little heritage for a pious +purpose----" + +"Her intent has nothing to do with that secret knowledge of the +Americano!" he insisted. "Has he bewitched you also that you have so +little interest in a mine of gold in anyone of the arroyas of your +land?" + +She smiled at that without turning her head. + +"If a mountain of gold should be uncovered at Soledad, of what +difference to me? Would he let a woman make traffic with it? Surely +not." + +"He?" + +"Jose Perez,--who else?" + +Padre Andreas closed his eyes a moment and arose, but did not answer. +He paced the length of the corridor and back before he spoke. + +"It is for you to ask the Americano that the prisoner be given a +priest if he wants prayer," he said returning to their original +subject of communication. "It is a duty that I tell you this; it is +your own house." + +"Senor Rhodes is capitan," she returned indifferently. "It is his task +to give me rest here to prepare for that long north journey. I do not +rest in my mind or my soul when you talk to me of the German snake, so +I will ask that you speak with Capitan Rhodes. He has the knowing of +Spanish." + +"Too much for safety of us," commented the priest darkly. "Who is to +say how he uses it with the Indians? It is well known that the +American government would win all this land, and work with the Indians +that they help win it." + +"So everyone is saying in Hermosillo," agreed Dona Jocasta, "but the +American capitan has not told me lies of any other thing, and he is +saying that is a lie made by foreign people. Also--" and she looked at +him doubtfully, "the man Conrad cursed your name yesterday as a damned +Austrian whose country had cost his country much." + +"My mother was not Austrian!" retorted Padre Andreas, "and all my +childhood was in Mexico. But how did Conrad know?" + +"He told Elena it was his business to know such things. The Germans +help send many Mexican priests north over the border. He had the +thought that you are to go with me for some reason political of which +I knew nothing!" + +"I? Did _I_ come in willingness to this wilderness? From the beginning +to the end I am as a prisoner here;--as much a prisoner as is El +Aleman behind the bars! No horse is mine;--if I walk abroad for my own +health a vaquero ever is after me that I ride back with no fatigue to +myself! It is the work of the heretic Americano who will have his own +curse for it!" + +He fumed nervously over the unexpected thrust of Austrian ancestry, +and the beautiful eyes of Dona Jocasta regarded him with awakened +interest. She had never thought of his politics, or possible +affiliations, but after all it was true that he had been stationed at +a pueblo where everything on wheels must pass coming north towards +the border, also that was a very small pueblo to support a padre, and +perhaps---- + +"Padre," she said after a moment, "but for the Americano you would be +a dead man. Think you what Ramon would have done to a priest who let a +vaquero carry me to the ranges! Also I came back to Soledad because +the Americano told me it was only duty and justice that I come for +your sake as Ramon has no liking for priests. You see, senor, our +American capitan of Soledad is not so bad;--he had a care of you." + +"Too much a care of me!" retorted the priest. "Know you not that the +door of my sleeping room is bolted each night, and unbolted at dawn? +He laughs with a light heart, and sings foolishly,--your new +Americano; but under that cloak of the simple his plotting is not +idle!" + +"As to that, I think his light heart is not so light these days," said +Dona Jocasta. "Two days now the Indian girl and Marto Cavayso could +have been back in Soledad, and he is looking, looking ever over that +empty trail. Before the sun was above the sierra today he was far +there coming across the mesa." + +"A man does not go in the dark to look for a trail," said Padre +Andreas meaningly. "He unbolted my door on his return, and to me he +looked as a man who has done work that was heavy. What work is there +for him to do alone in the hills?" + +"Who knows? A horse herd is somewhere in a canon beyond. There are +colts, and the storm of yesterday might make trouble. The old father +of Elena says that storm has not gone far and will come back! And +while the Americano rides to learn of colts, and strays, he also +picks the best mules for our journey to the border." + +"Does he find the best mules with packs already on their backs in the +canons?" demanded the padre skeptically. "From my window I saw them +return." + +"I also," confessed Dona Jocasta amused at the persistence of +suspicion, "and the load was the water bags and _serape_! Does any but +a fool go into the wilderness without water?" + +"You cover him well, senora, but I think it was not horses he went in +the night to count," said the priest sarcastically. "Gold in the land +is to him who finds it,--and I tell you the church will hear of that +red gold belt from me! Also there will be a new search for it! If it +is here the church will see that it does not go with American +renegades across the border!" + +"Padre, all the land speaks peace today, yet you are as a threatening +cloud over Soledad!" + +"I speak in warning, not threat,--and I am not the only cloud in the +sky. The women of vengeance are coming beyond there where the willows +are green." + +Dona Jocasta looked the way he pointed, and stood up with an +exclamation of alarm. + +"Clodomiro! Call Clodomiro!" she said hurriedly, and as the priest +only stared at her, she sped past him to the portal and called the boy +who came running from the patio. + +She pointed as the priest had pointed. + +"They are strangers, they do not know," she said. "Kill a horse, but +meet them!" + +His horse was in the plaza, and he was in the saddle before she +finished speaking, digging in his heels and yelling as though leading +a charge while the frightened animal ran like a wild thing. + +Dona Jocasta stood gazing after him intently, shading her eyes with +her hand. Women came running out of the patio and Padre Andreas stared +at her. + +"What new thing has given you fear?" he asked in wonder. + +"No new thing,--a very old thing of which Elena told me! That green +strip of willow is the edge of a quicksand where no one knows the +depth. The women are thinking to make a short path across, and the one +who leads will surely go down." + +The priest stared incredulous. + +"How a quicksand and no water?" he asked doubtfully. + +"There _is_ water,--hidden water! It comes under the ground from the +hills. In the old, old days it was a wide well boiling like a kettle +over a fire, also it was warm! Then sand storms filled that valley and +filled the well. It is crusted over, but the boiling goes on far +below. Elena said not even a coyote will touch that canoncita though +the dogs are on his trail. The Indians say an evil spirit lives under +there, but the women of Mesa Blanca and Palomitas do not know the +place." + +"It should have a fence,--a place like that." + +"It had, but the wind took it, and, as you see, Soledad is a forgotten +place." + +They watched Clodomiro circle over the mesa trail and follow the women +down the slope of the little valley. It was fully three miles away, +yet the women could be seen running in fear to the top of the mesa +where they cast themselves on the ground resting from fright and +exertion. + +Quite enjoying his spectacular dash of rescue, Clodomiro cantered back +along the trail, and when he reached the highest point, turned looking +to the southeast where, beyond the range, the old Yaqui trail led to +the land of despair. + +He halted there, throwing up his hand as if in answer to some signal, +and then darted away, straight across the mesa instead of toward the +buildings. + +"Tula has come!" said Dona Jocasta in a hushed voice of dread. "She +has come, and Senor Rhodes is needed here. That coming of Tula may +bring an end to quiet days,--like this!" + +She sighed as she spoke, for the week had been as a space of restful +paradise after the mental and physical horrors she had lived through. + +In a half hour Clodomiro came in sight again just as Kit rode in from +the west. + +"Get horses out of the corrals," he called, "all of them. That trail +has been long even from the railroad." + +It was done quickly, and the vaqueros rode out as Clodomiro reached +the plaza. + +"_Tula?_" asked Kit. + +"Tula is as the living whose mind is with the dead," said the boy. +"Many are sick, some are dead,--the mother of Tula died on the trail +last night." + +"Good God!" whispered Kit. "After all that hell of a trail, to save no +one for herself! Where is Marto?" + +"Marto walks, and sick ones are on his horse. I go back now that Tula +has this horse." + +"No, I will go. Stay you here to give help to the women. Bring out +beds in every corridor. Bring straw and blankets when the beds are +done." + +Dona Jocasta put out her hand as he was about to mount. + +"And I? What task is mine to help?" she asked, and Kit looked down at +her gravely. + +"Senora, you have only to be yourself, gracious and kind of heart. +Also remember this is the first chance in the lands of Soledad to show +the natives they have not alone a padrona, but a protecting friend. In +days to come it may be a memory of comfort to you." + +Then he mounted, and led the string of horses out to meet the exiles. +While she looked after him murmuring, "In days to come?" + +And to the padre she said, "I had ceased to think of days to come, for +the days of my life had reached the end of all I could see or think. +He gives hope even in the midst of sadness,--does the Americano." + +Kit met the band where the trail forked to Palomitas and Mesa Blanca. +Some wanted to go direct to their own homes and people, while Marto +argued that food and rest and a priest awaited them at Soledad, and +because of their dead, they should have prayers. + +Tula said nothing. She sat on the sand, and caressed a knife with a +slightly curved blade,--a knife not Mexican, yet familiar to Kit, and +like a flash he recalled seeing one like it in the hand of Conrad at +Granados. + +She did not even look up when he halted beside her though the others +welcomed with joy the sight of the horses for the rest of the trail. + +"Tula!" he said bending over her, "Tula, we come to welcome you,--my +horse is for your riding." + +She looked up when he touched her. + +"Friend of me," she murmured wistfully, "you made me put a mark at +that place after we met in the first dawn,--so I was knowing it well. +Also my mother was knowing,--and it was where she died last night +under the moon. See, this is the knife on which Anita died in that +place. It is ended for us--the people of Miguel, and the people of +Cajame!" + +"Tula, you have done wonderful things, many deeds to make the spirit +of Miguel proud. Is that not so, my friends?" and he turned to the +others, travel-stained, sick and weary, yet one in their cries of the +gratitude they owed to Tula and to him, by which he perceived that +Tula had, for her own reasons, credited him with the plan of ransom. + +They tried brokenly to tell of their long fear and despair in the +strangers' land,--and of sickness and deaths there. Then the miracle +of Tula walking by the exalted excellencia of that great place, and +naming one by one the Palomitas names, forgetting none;--until all who +lived were led out from that great planting place of sugar cane and +maize, and their feet set on the northern way. + +When they reached this joyous part of the recital words failed, and +they wept as they smiled at him and touched the head of Tula tenderly. +Even a gorgeous and strange _manta_ she now wore was pressed to the +lips of women who were soon to see their children or their desolate +mothers. + +His eyes grew misty as they thronged about her,--the slender dark +child of the breed of a leader. The new _manta_ was of yellow wool and +cotton, bordered with dull green and little squares of flaming scarlet +woven in it by patient Indian hands of the far south coast. It made +her look a bit royal in the midst of the drab-colored, weary band. + +She seemed scarcely to hear their praise, or their sobs and prayers. +Her face was still and her gaze far off and brooding as her fingers +stroked the curved blade over and over. + +"An Indian stole that knife from the German after his face was cut +with it by her sister," said Marto Cavayso quietly while the vaqueros +were helping the weaker refugees to mount, two to each animal. "That +man gives it to her at the place where Marta, her mother, died in the +night. So after that she does not sleep or eat or talk. It is as you +see." + +"I see! Take you the others, and Tula will ride on my saddle," said +Kit in the same tone. Then he pointed to the beautifully worked +_manta_, "Did she squander wealth of hers on that?" + +Marto regarded him with an impatient frown--it seemed to him an ill +moment for the American joke. + +"Tula had no wealth," he stated, "we lived as we could on the fine +gold you gave to me for myself." + +"Oh yes, I had forgotten that," declared Kit in some wonder at this +information, "but _mantas_ like that do not grow on trees in Sonora." + +"That is a gift from the very grand daughter of the General Terain," +said Marto. "Also if you had seen affairs as they moved there at Linda +Vista you would have said as does Ramon Rotil, that this one is +daughter of the devil! I was there, and with my eyes I saw it, but if +I had not,--an angel from heaven would not make me believe!" + +"What happened?" + +"The Virgin alone knows! for women are in her care, and no man could +see. As ordered, I went to the gates of that hacienda very grand. +_Sangre de Christo!_ if they had known they would have strung me to a +tree and filled me with lead! But I was the very responsible vaquero +of Rancho Soledad in Altar--and the lizards of guards at the gate had +no moment of suspicion. I told them the Indian girl carried a letter +for the eyes of their mistress and the sender was Dona Jocasta Perez. +At that they sent some messenger on the run, for they say the Dona +Dolores is fire and a sword to any servant of theirs who is slow in +her tasks." + +"I heard she was a wonder of pride and beauty," said Kit. "Did you see +her?" + +"That came later. She sent for Tula who would give the letter to no +one,--not even to me. The guard divided their dinner with me while I +waited; if they were doing work for their general I was doing work for +mine and learned many things in that hour! At last Tula came walking +down that great stair made from one garden to another where laurel +trees grow, and with her walked a woman out of the sun. There is no +other word, senor, for that woman! Truly she is of gold and rose; her +mother's family were of old Spain and she is a glory to any day!" + +"Did you feel yourself under witchcraft--once more?" queried Kit. + +"_Sangre de Christo!_ Never again! But Jose Perez had a good eye for +making choice of women,--that is a true word! So Dona Dolores walked +down to the drive with that _manta_ over her arm, also a belt in her +hand,--a belt of gold, senor, see!" + +To the astonished gaze of Kit Rhodes he drew from under his coat the +burro-skin belt he had directed the making of up there in the hidden +canon of El Alisal. Marto balanced it in his hand appreciatively. + +"And there was more of it than this!" he exulted, "for the way on the +railroad was paid out of it for all the Indians. That is why we lost +two days,--our car was put on a side track, and for the sick it was +worse than to walk the desert." + +"Yes; well?" + +"Dona Dolores got in a fine carriage there. _Madre de Dios!_ what +horses! White as snow on the sierras, and gold on all the harness! Me, +I am dreaming of them since that hour! They got in, Tula also in her +poor dress, and a guard told me to follow the carriage. It was as if +San Gabriel made me invitation to enter heaven! Twenty miles we went +through that plantation, a deep sea of cane, senor, and maize of a +tree size,--the richness there is riches of a king. Guards were +everywhere and peons rode ahead to inform the major-domo, and he came +riding like devils to meet Dona Dolores Terain. I am not a clever man, +senor, but even I could see that never before had the lady of Linda +Vista made herself fatigue by a plantation ride there, and I think +myself he had a scare that she see too much! At the first when Dona +Dolores had speech with him, it was easy to see he blamed me, and his +eyes looked once as if to scorch me with fire. Then she pointed to the +child beside her, and gave some orders, and he sent a guard with Tula +through another gate into a great corral where men and women were +packed like cattle. Senor, I have been in battles, but I never heard +screams of wounded like the screams of joy I heard in that corral! +Some of these Indians dropped like dead and were carried out of the +gate that way as Tula stood inside and named the names. + +"When it was over that woman of white beauty told that manager to have +them all well fed, and given meat for the journey, for he would answer +to the general if any stroke of harm came to anyone of them on the +plantation of Linda Vista. Then she gave to my hand the belt of gold +to care for the poor people on the trail;--also she said the people +were a free gift to Dona Jocasta Perez, and there was no ransom to +pay. Myself I think the Dona Dolores had happiness to tell the +general, her father, that Jose Perez had a wife, for that plan of +marriage was but for politics. _Sangre de Christo!_ what a woman! When +all was done she held out the _manta_ to Tula, and her smile was as +honey of the mesquite, and she said, "In my house you would not take +the gift I offered you, but now that you have your mother, and your +friends safe, will you yet be so proud?" and Tula with her arms around +her mother, stood up and let the thing be put over her head as you +see, and that, Senor Capitan, is the way of the strange _manta_ of +Tula." + +"And that?" queried Kit, indicating the belt. Marto smiled a bit +sheepishly and lowered his voice because the last of the horses were +being loaded with the homesick human freight, and the chatter, and +clatter of hoofs had ceased about them. + +"Maybe it is the _manta_, and maybe I am a fool," he confessed, "but +she told me to spend not one ounce beyond what was needed, for it was +to use only for these sick and poor people of hers. There was a good +game going on in that train,--and fools playing! I could have won +every peso if I had put up only a little handful of the nuggets. That +is why I think my general knew when he said she was the devil, for she +stood up in that straight rich garment of honor and looked at me--only +looked, not one spoken word, senor!--and on my soul and the soul of my +mother, the wish to play in that game went away from me in that +minute, and did not come back! How does a man account for a thing like +that; I ask you?" + +Kit thought of that first night on the treasure trail in the mountain +above them, and smiled. + +"I can't account for it, though I do recognize the fact," he answered. +"It is not the first time Tula has ruled an outfit, and it is not the +_manta_!" + +Then he walked over and lifted her from the ground as he would lift a +child, she weighed so little more! + +"Little sister," he said kindly, "now that you are rested, you will +ride my horse to Soledad. Your big work is done for your people. All +is finished." + +"No, senor,--not yet is the finish," she said shaking her head, "not +yet!" + +Kit felt uncomfortably the weight in his pocket of the key of Conrad's +room. He had made most solemn promise it would be guarded till she +came. He had studied up some logical arguments to present to her +attention for herding the German across the border as a murderer the +United States government would deal justice to, but after the report +of Marto concerning her long trail, and the death of her mother in the +desert, he did not feel so much like either airing ideas or asking +questions. He was rather overwhelmed by the knowledge that she had not +allowed even Marto to guess that the bag of gold was her very own! + +He took her on the saddle in front of him because she drooped so +wearily there alone, and her head sank against his shoulder as if +momentarily she was glad to be thus supported. + +"Poor little eaglet!" he said affectionately, "I will take you north +to Cap Pike, and someone else who will love you when she hears all +this; and in other years, quieter years, we will ride again into +Sonora, and----" + +She shook her head against his shoulder, and he stopped short. + +"Why, Tula!" he began in remonstrance, but she lifted her hand with a +curious gesture of finality. + +"Friend of me," she said in a small voice with an undertone of sad +fatefulness, "words do not come today. They told you I am not sleeping +on this home trail, and it is true. I kept my mother alive long after +the death birds of the night were calling for her--it is so! Also +today at the dawn the same birds called above me,--above _me_! and +look!" + +They had reached the summit of the valley's wall and for a half mile +ahead the others were to be seen on the trail to Soledad, but it was +not there she pointed, but to the northeast where a dark cloud hung +over the mountains. Its darkness was cleft by one lance of lightning, +but it was too far away for sound of thunder to reach them. + +"See you not that the cloud in the sky is like a bird,--a dark angry +bird? Also it is over the trail to the north, but it is not for +you,--_I_ am the one first to see it! Senor, I will tell you, but I +telling no other--I think my people are calling me all the time, in +every way I look now. I no knowing how I go to them, but--I think I +go!" + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +EAGLE AND SERPENT + + +Marto Cavayso gave to Kit Rhodes the burro-skin belt and a letter from +Dona Dolores Terain to the wife of Jose Perez. + +"My work is ended at the hacienda until the mules come back for more +guns, and I will take myself to the adobe beyond the corrals for what +rest there may be. You are capitan under my general, so this goes to +you for the people of the girl he had a heart for. Myself,--I like +little their coyote whines and yells. It may be a giving of thanks, or +it may be a mourning for dead,--but it sounds to me like an anthem +made in hell." + +He referred to the greeting songs of the returned exiles, and the +wails for the dead left behind on the trail. The women newly come from +Palomitas sat circled on the plaza, and as food or drink was offered +each, a portion was poured on the sand as a libation to the ghosts of +the lately dead, and the name of each departed was included in the +wailing chant sung over and over. + +It was a weird, hypnotic thing, made more so by the curious light, +yellow and green in the sky, preceding that dark cloud coming slowly +with sound of cannonading from the north. Though the sun had not set, +half the sky was dark over the eastern sierras. + +"The combination is enough to give even a sober man the jim-jams," +agreed Kit. "Dona Jocasta is sick with fear of them, and has gone in +to pray as far from the sound as possible. The letter will go to her, +and the belt will go to Tula who may thank you another day. This day +of the coming back she is not herself." + +"Mother of God! that is a true word. No girl or woman is like that!" + +The priest, who had talked with the sick and weary, and listened to +their sobs of the degradation of the slave trail, had striven to speak +with Tula, who with head slightly drooped looked at him under her +straight brows as though listening to childish things. + +"See you!" muttered Marto. "That _manta_ must have been garb of some +king's daughter, and no common maid. It makes her a different thing. +Would you not think the padre some underling, and she a ruler giving +laws?" + +For, seated as she was, in a chair with arms, her robe of honor +reached straight from her chin to her feet, giving her appearance of +greater height than she was possessed of, and the slender banda +holding her hair was of the same scarlet of the broideries. Kit +remembered calling her a young Cleopatra even in her rags, and now he +knew she looked it! + +He was not near enough to hear the words of the priest, but with all +his energy he was striving to win her to some view of his. She +listened in long silence until he ceased. + +Then her hand went under her _manta_ and drew out the curved knife. + +She spoke one brief sentence, and lifted the blade over her head. It +caught the light of the hovering sun, and the Indians near enough to +hear her words set up a scream of such unearthly emotion that the +priest turned ashen, and made the sign to ward off evil. + +It was merely coincidence that a near flash of lightning flamed from +the heavens as she lifted the knife,--but it inspired every Indian to +a crashing cry of exultation. + +And it did not end there, for a Palomitas woman had carried across the +desert a small drum of dried skin stretched over a hollow log, and at +the words of Tula she began a soft tum-tum-tum-tum on the hidden +instrument. The sound was at first as a far echo of the thunder back +of the dark cloud, and the voices of the women shrilled their emphasis +as the drum beat louder, or the thunder came nearer. + +Kit Rhodes decided Marto was entirely correct as to the inspiration +back of that anthem. + +"_Sangre de Christo!_ look at that!" muttered Marto, who meant to turn +his back on the entire group, yet was held by the fascination of the +unexpected. + +Four Indian youths with a huge and furious bull came charging down the +mesa towards the corral. A _reata_ fastened to each horn and hind foot +of the animal was about the saddle horn of a boy, and the raging +bellowing creature was held thus at safe distance from all. The boys, +shouting with their joy of victory, galloped past the plaza to where +four great stakes had already been driven deep in the hard ground. To +those stakes the bull would be tied until the burden was ready for +his back--and his burden would be what was left of "Judas" when the +women of the slave trail got through with him! + +"God the father knows I am a man of no white virtues," muttered Marto +eyeing the red-eyed maddened brute, "but here is my vow to covet no +comradeship of aught in the shape of woman in the district of +Altar--bred of the devil are they!" + +He followed after to the corral to watch the tying of the creature, +around which the Indian men were gathered at a respectful distance. + +But Rhodes, after one glance at the bellowing assistant of Indian +vengeance, found himself turning again to Tula and the padre. That +wild wail and the undertone of the drum was getting horribly on his +nerves,--yet he could not desert, as had Marto. + +Tula sat as before, but with the knife held in her open hand on the +arm of the chair. She followed with a grim smile the careering of the +bull, then nodded her head curtly to the priest and turned her gaze +slowly round the corridor until she saw Rhodes, and tilted back her +head in a little gesture of summons. + +"Well, little sister," he said, "what's on your mind?" + +"The padre asks to pray with El Aleman. I say yes, for the padre has +good thoughts in his heart,--maybe so! You have the key?" + +"Sure I have the key, but I fetch it back to you when visitors start +going in, and--oh yes--there's your belt for your people." + +"No; you be the one to give," she said with a glance of sorrow +towards a girl who was youngest of the slaves brought back. "You, +amigo, keep all but the key." + +"As you say," he agreed. "Come along, padre, you are to get the +privilege you've been begging for, and I don't envy you the task." + +Padre Andreas made no reply. In his heart he blamed Rhodes that the +prisoner had not been let escape during the absence of the girl, and +also resented the offhand manner of the young American concerning the +duty of a priest. + +The sun was at the very edge of the world, and all shadows spreading +for the night when they went to the door of Conrad's quarters. Kit +unlocked the door and looked in before opening wide. The one window +faced the corral, and Conrad turned from it in shaking horror. + +"What is it they say out there?" he shouted in fury. "They call words +of blasphemy, that the bull is Germany, and 'Judas' will ride it to +the death! They are wild barbarians, they are----" + +"Never mind what they are," suggested Kit, "here is a priest who +thinks you may have a soul worth praying for, and the Indians have let +him come--once!" + +Then he let the priest in and locked the door, going back to Tula with +the key. She sat where he had left her, and was crooning again the +weird tuneless dirge at which Marto had been appalled. + +But she handed him a letter. + +"Marto forgot. It was with the Chinaman trader at the railroad," she +said and went placidly on fondling the key as she had fondled the +knife, and pitching her voice in that curious falsetto dear to Indian +ceremonial. + +He could scarce credit the letter as intended for himself, as it was +addressed in a straggling hand filling all the envelope, to Capitan +Christofero Rhodes, Manager of Rancho Soledad, District of Altar, +Sonora, Mexico, and in one corner was written, "By courtesy of Senor +Fidelio Lopez," and the date within a week. He opened it, and walked +out to the western end of the corridor where the light was yet good, +though through the barred windows he could see candles already lit in +the shadowy _sala_. + +The letter was from Cap Pike, and in the midst of all the accumulated +horror about him, Kit was conscious of a great homesick leap of the +heart as he skimmed the page and found her name--"Billie is all +right!" + + How are you, Capitan? (began the letter). That fellow Fidelio rode + into the _cantina_ here at La Partida today. He asked a hell's + slew of questions about you, and Billie and me nearly had fits, + for we thought you were sure dead or held for ransom, and I give + it to you straight, Kit, there isn't a peso left on the two + ranches to ransom even Baby Buntin' if the little rat is still + alive, and that ain't all Kit: it don't seem possible that Conrad + and Singleton mortgaged both ranches clear up to the hilt, but it + sure has happened, every acre is plastered with ten per cent paper + and the compound interest strips it from Billie just as sure as if + it was droppin' through to China. When Conrad was on the job he + had it all blanketed, but now saltpeter can't save it without + cash. Billie is all right, but some peaked with worry. So am I. + But you cheer up, for I got plans for a hike up into Pinal County + for us three on a search for the Lost Dutchman Mine, lost fifty + years and I have a hunch we can find it, got the dope from an old + half breed who knew the Dutchman. So don't you worry about + trailing home broke. The Fidelio hombre said to look for you in + six days after Easter, and meet you with water at the Rio Seco, so + we'll do that. He called you capitan and said the Deliverer had + made you an officer; how about it? He let loose a line of talk + about your two women in the outfit, but I sort of stalled him on + that, so Billie wouldn't get it, for I reckon that's a greaser + lie, Kit, and you ain't hitched up to no gay Juanita down there. I + had a monkey and parrot time to explain even that Tula squaw to + Billie, for she didn't savvy--not a copper cent's worth! She is + right here now instructin' me, but I won't let her read this, so + don't you worry. She says to tell you it looks at last like our + old eagle bird will have a chance to flop its wings in France. The + pair of us is near about cross-eyed from watchin' the south trail + into Altar, and the east trail where the troops will go! She says + even if we are broke there is an adobe for you at Vijil's, and a + range for Buntin' and Pardner. Billie rides Pardner now instead of + Pat. + + I reckon that's all Kit, and I've worked up a cramp on this + anyway. I figured that maybe you laid low down there till the + Singleton murder was cleared up, but I can alibi you on that + O. K., when Johnny comes marchin' home! So don't you worry. + + Yours truly, + Pike. + +He read it over twice, seeking out the lines with _her_ name and +dwelling on them. So Billie was riding Pardner,--and Billie had a camp +ready for him,--and Billie couldn't savvy even a little Indian girl in +his outfit--_say!_ + +He was smiling at that with a very warm glow in his heart for the +resentment of Billie. He could just imagine Pike's monkey and parrot +time trying to make Billie understand accidents of the trail in +Sonora. He would make that all clear when he got back to God's +country! And the little heiress of Granados ranches was only an owner +of debt-laden acres,--couldn't raise a peso to ransom even the little +burro! Well, he was glad she rode Pardner instead of another horse; +that showed---- + +Then he smiled again, and drifted into dreams. He would let Bunting +travel light to the Rio Seco, and then load him for her as no burro +ever was loaded to cross the border! He wondered if she'd tell him +again he couldn't hold a foreman's job? He wondered---- + +And then he felt a light touch on his arm, and turned to see the +starlike beauty of Dona Jocasta beside him. Truly the companionship of +Dona Jocasta might be a more difficult thing to explain than that of +the Indian girl of a slave raid! + +Her face was blanched with fear, and her touch brought him back from +his vision of God's country to the tom-tom, and the weird chant, and +the thunder of storm coming nearer and nearer in the twilight. + +"Senor!" she breathed in terror, "even on my knees in prayer it is not +for anyone to shut out this music of demons. Look! Yesterday she was a +child of courage and right, but what is she today?" + +She pointed to Tula and clung to him, for in all the wild chorus Tula +was the leader,--she who had the words of ancient days from the dead +Miguel. She sat there as one enthroned draped in that gorgeous thing, +fit, as Marto said, for a king's daughter, while the others sat in the +plaza or rested on straw and blankets in the corridor looking up at +her and shrilling savage echoes to the words she chanted. + +"And that animal,--I saw it!" moaned Dona Jocasta. "Mother of God! +that I should deny a priest who would only offer prayers for that +wicked one who is to be tortured on it! Senor, for the love of God +give me a horse and let me go into the desert to that storm, any +place,--any place out of sight and sound of this most desolate house! +The merciful God himself has forsaken Soledad!" + +As she spoke he realized that time had passed while he read and +re-read and dreamed a dream because of the letter. The sun was far out +of sight, only low hues of yellow and blue melting into green to show +the illumined path it had taken. By refraction rays of copper light +reached the zenith and gave momentarily an unearthly glow to the mesa +and far desert, but it was only as a belated flash, for the dusk of +night touched the edge of it. + +And the priest locked in with Conrad had been forgotten by him! At any +moment that girl with the key might give some signal for the ceremony, +whatever it was, of the death of the German beast! + +"Sure, senora, I promise you," he said soothingly, patting her hand +clinging to him. "There is my horse in the plaza, and there is +Marto's. We will get the padre, and both of you can ride to the little +adobe down the valley where Elena's old father lives. He is Mexican, +not Indian. It is better even to kneel in prayer there all the night +than to try to rest in Soledad while this lasts. At the dawn I will +surely go for you. Come,--we will ask for the key." + +Together they approached Tula, whose eyes stared straight out seeing +none of the dark faces lifted to hers, she seemed not to see Kit who +stopped beside her. + +"Little sister," he said, touching her shoulder, "the padre waits to +be let out of the room of El Aleman, and the key is needed." + +She nodded her head, and held up the key. + +"Let me be the one," begged Dona Jocasta,--"I should do penance! I was +not gentle in my words to the padre, yet he is a man of God, and +devoted. Let me be the one!" + +The Indian girl looked up at that, and drew back the key. Then some +memory, perhaps that kneeling of Dona Jocasta with the women of +Palomitas, influenced her to trust, and after a glance at Kit she +nodded her head and put the key in her hand. + +"You, senor, have the horses," implored Dona Jocasta, "and I will at +once come with Padre Andreas." + +"_Pronto!_" agreed Kit, "but I must get you a _serape_. Rain may fall +from that cloud." + +She seemed scarcely to hear him as she sped along the patio towards +the locked door. Kit entered his own room for a blanket just as she +fitted the key in the lock, and spoke the padre's name. + +The next instant he heard her screams, and a door slam shut, and as he +came out with the blanket, he saw the priest dash toward the portal +leading from the patio to the plaza. + +He ran to her, lifting her from the tiles where she had been thrown. + +"Conrad!" she cried pointing after the flying figure. "There! Quickly, +senor, quickly!" + +He jerked open the door and looked within, a still figure with the +face hidden, crouched by a bench against the wall. In two strides Kit +crossed from the door and grasped the shoulder, and the figure propped +there fell back on the tiles. It was the dead priest dressed in the +clothes of Conrad, and the horror of that which had been a face showed +he had died by strangulation under the hands of the man for whom he +had gone to pray. + +Dona Jocasta ran wildly screaming through the patio, but the Indian +voices and the drum prevented her from being heard until she burst +among them just as Conrad leaped to the back of the nearest horse. + +"El Aleman! El Aleman!" she screamed pointing to him in horror. "He +has murdered the padre and taken his robe. It is El Aleman! Your Judas +has killed your priest!" + +Kit ran for his own horse, but with the quickness of a cat Tula was +before him in the saddle, and whirling the animal, leaning low, and +her gorgeous _manta_ streaming behind like a banner she sped after the +German screaming, "Judas! Judas! Judas of Palomitas!" + +And, as in the other chants led by her, the Indian women took up this +one in frenzied yells of rage. + +The men of the corral heard and leaped to saddles to follow the flying +figures, but Kit was ahead,--not much, but enough to be nearest the +girl. + +Straight as an arrow the fugitive headed for Mesa Blanca, the nearest +ranch where a fresh horse could be found, and Dona Jocasta and some of +the women without horses stood in the plaza peering after that wild +race in the gray of the coming night. + +[Illustration: The Indian girl was steadily gaining on the German.] + +A flash of lightning outlined the three ahead, and a wail of utter +terror went up from them all. + +"Mother of God, the canon of the quicksand!" cried Dona Jocasta. + +"Tula! Tula! Tula!" shrilled the Indian women. + +Tula was steadily gaining on the German, and Kit was only a few rods +behind as they dashed down the slight incline to that too green belt +in the floor of the brown desert. + +He heard someone, Marto he thought, shouting his name and calling +"_Sumidero! Sumidero!_" He did not understand, and kept right on. +Others were shouting at Tula with as little result, the clatter of the +horses and the rumble of the breaking storm made all a formless chaos +of sound. + +The frenzied scream of a horse came to him, and another lightning +flash showed Conrad, ghastly and staring, leap from the saddle--in the +middle of the little valley--and Tula ride down on top of him! + +Then a rope fell around Kit's shoulders, pinioning his arms and he was +jerked from the horse with a thud that for a space stunned him into +semi-unconsciousness, but through it he heard again the pitiful scream +of a dumb animal, and shouts of Marto to the frenzied Indians. + +"Ha! Clodomiro, the _reata_! Wait for the lightning, then over her +shoulders! Only the horse is caught;--steady and a true hand, boy! +Ai-yi! You are master, and the Mother of God is your help! Run your +horse back,--run, curse you! or she will sink as he sinks! _Sangre de +Christo!_ she cuts the _reata_!" + +Kit struggled out of the rope, and got to his feet in time to see the +flash of her knife as she whirled to her victim. Again and again it +descended as the man, now submerged to the waist, caught her. His +screams of fear were curdling to the blood, but high above the German +voice of fear sounded the Indian voice of triumph, and from the +vengeful cry of "Judas! Judas! Judas of the world!" her voice turned +sharply to the high clear chant Kit had heard in the hidden canon of +the red gold. It was as she said--there would be none of her caste and +clan to sing her death song to the waiting ghosts, and she was singing +it. + +As those weird triumphant calls went out from the place of death every +Indian answered them with shouts as of fealty, and in the darkness Kit +felt as if among a circle of wolves giving tongue in some signal not +to be understood by men. + +He could hear the sobs of men and boys about him, but not a measure of +that wild wail failed to bring the ever recurring response from the +brown throats. + +Marto, wet and trembling, cursed and prayed at the horror of it, and +moved close to Kit in the darkness. + +"Jesus, Maria, and Jose!" he muttered in a choked whisper, "one would +think the fathers of these devils had never been christened! _Sangre +de Christo!_ look at that!" + +For in a vivid sheet of lightning they saw a terrible thing. + +Tula, on the shoulders of the man, stood up for one wavering instant +and with both hands raised high, she flung something far out from her +where the sands were firm for all but things of weight. Then her high +triumphant call ended sharply in the darkness as she cast herself +forward. She died as her sister had died, and on the same knife. + +Dona Jocasta stumbled from a horse, and clung to Kit in terror. +"Mother of God!" she sobbed. "It is as I said! She is the Eagle of +Mexico, and she died clean--with the Serpent under her feet!" + + * * * * * + +In a dawn all silver and gold and rose after the storm, there was only +a trace at the edge of the sand where two horses had carried riders to +the treacherous smiling arroya over which a coyote would not cross. + +And one of the Indian women of Palomitas tied a _reata_ around the +body of her baby son, and sent him to creep out as a turtle creeps to +that thing cast by Tula to the women cheated of their Judas. + +The slender naked boy went gleefully to the task as to a new game, and +spit in the dead face as he dragged it with him to his mother who had +pride in him. + +It was kicked before the women back over the desert to Soledad, and +the boys used it for football that day, and tied what was left of it +between the horns of the roped wild bull at the corral. The bellowing +of the bull when cut loose came as music to the again placid Indian +women of Palomitas. They were ready for the home trail with their +exiles. It had been a good ending, and their great holiday at Soledad +was over. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +EACH TO HIS OWN + + +A straggling train of pack mules followed by a six-mule wagon, trailed +past Yaqui Springs ten days later, and was met there by the faithful +Chappo and two villainous looking comrades, who had cleaned out the +water holes and stood guard over them until arrival of the ammunition +train. + +"For beyond is a dry hell for us, and on the other side the Deliverer +is circled by enemy fighters who would trap him in his own land. He +lies hid like a fox in the hills waiting for this you bring. Water +must not fail, and mules must not fail; for that am I here to give the +word for haste." + +"But even forty mule loads will not serve him long," said Kit +doubtfully. + +"Like a fox in the hills I tell you, Senor Capitan,--and only one way +into the den! Beyond the enemy he has other supplies safe--this is to +fight his way to it. After that he will go like a blaze through dry +meadows of zacatan." + +Kit would have made camp there for the night, but Chappo protested. + +"No, senor! Every drop in the sand here is for the mules of the army. +It is not my word, it is the word of my general. Four hours north you +will find Little Coyote well. One day more and at the crossing of Rio +Seco, water will be waiting from the cold wells of La Partida. It is +so arrange, senor, and the safe trail is made for you and for +excellencia, the senora. In God's name, take all your own, and go in +peace!" + +"But the senora is weary to death, and----" + +"That is true, Capitan," spoke Dona Jocasta, who drooped in the saddle +like a wilted flower. "But the senora will not die, and if she does it +is not so much loss as the smallest of the soldiers of El Gavilan. We +will go on, and go quickly, see!--there is yet water in the cantin, +and four hours of trail is soon over." + +Ugly Chappo came shyly forward and, uncovered, touched the hem of her +skirt to his lips. + +"The high heart of the excellencia gives life to the men who fight," +he said and thrust his hand in a pocket fastened to his belt. "This is +to you from the Deliverer, senora. His message is that it brought to +him the lucky trail, and he would wish the same to the Dona Jocasta +Perez." + +It was the little cross, once sent back to her by a peon in bitterness +of soul, and now sent by a general of Mexico with the blessing of a +soldier. + +"Tell him Jocasta takes it as a gift of God, and his name is in her +prayers," she said and turned away. + +Clodomiro pushed forward,--a very different Clodomiro, for the +fluttering bands of color were gone from his arms and his hair--the +heart of the would-be bridegroom was no longer his. He was stripped as +for the trail or for war, and fastened to his saddle was the gun and +ammunition he had won from Cavayso who had gone quickly onward with +his detachment of the pack. + +But Clodomiro halted beside Chappo, regardless of need for haste on +the trail, and asked him things in that subdued Indian tone without +light, shade, or accent, in which the brown brothers of the desert +veil their intimate discourse. + +"There, beyond!" said Chappo, "two looks on the trail," and he pointed +west. "Two looks and one water hole, and if wind moves the sand no one +can find the way where we go. It is not a trail for boys." + +"I am not now a boy," said Clodomiro, "and when the safety trail of +the senora is over----" + +But Chappo waved him onward, for the wagon and the pack mules, and +even little gray Bunting had turned reluctant feet north. + +Clodomiro had come from Soledad because Elena,--who never had been +out of sight of the old adobe walls,--sat on the ground wailing at +thought of leaving her old sick father and going to war, for despite +all the persuasions of Dona Jocasta, Elena knew what she knew, and did +not at all believe that any of them would see the lands of the +Americano,--not with pack mules of Ramon Rotil laden with guns! + +"If Tula had lived, no other would have been asked," Rhodes had +stated. "But one is needed to make camp for the senora on the +trail,--and to me the work of the packs and the animals." + +"That I can do," Clodomiro offered. "My thought was to go where Tula +said lovers of hers must go, and that was to El Gavilan. But this +different thing can also be my work to the safe wells of the American. +That far I go." + +Thus the three turned north from the war trail, and Clodomiro +followed, after making a prayer that the desert wind would hear, and +be very still, and fill no track made by the mules with the +ammunition. + +This slight discussion at the parting of the ways concerning two +definite things,--need of haste, and conserving of water,--left no +moment for thought or query of the packs of furnishings deemed of use +to Senora Perez in her removal to the north. + +Dona Jocasta herself had asked no question and taken no interest in +them. Stripped of all sign of wealth and in chains, she had ridden +into Soledad, and in comfort and much courtesy she was being conducted +elsewhere. How long it might endure she did not know, and no power of +hers could change the fact that she had been made wife of Jose +Perez;--and at any turn of any road luck might again be with his +wishes, and her estate fall to any level he choose to enforce. + +At dusk they reached the Little Coyote well, and had joy to find water +for night and morning, and greasewood and dead mesquite wood for a +fire. The night had turned chill and Clodomiro spread the _serape_ of +Dona Jocasta over a heap of flowering greasewood branches. It was very +quiet compared with the other camps on the trail, and had a restful +air of comfort, and of that Jocasta spoke. + +"Always the fear is here, senor," she said touching her breast. "All +the men and guns of Ramon Rotil did not make that fear go quiet. +Every canon we crossed I was holding my breath for fear of hidden men +of Jose Perez! You did not see him in the land where he is strong; but +men of power are bound to him there in the south, and--against one +woman----" + +"Senora, I do not think you have read the papers given to you by Padre +Andreas to put with the others given by General Rotil," was Kit's +quiet comment. He glanced toward the well where the boy was dipping +water into a wicker bottle. "Have you?" + +"No, senor, it is my permit to be passed safely by all the men of +Ramon Rotil," she said. "That I have not had need of. Also there is +the record that the American murder at Granados was the crime of +Conrad." + +"But, senora, there is one other paper among them.--I would have told +you yesterday if I had known your fear. I meant to wait until the +trail was ended, but----" + +"Senor!" she breathed leaning toward him, her great eyes glowing with +dreadful question, "_Senor!_" + +"I know the paper, for I signed it," said Kit staring in the leaping +blaze. "So did the padre. It is the certificate of the burial of Jose +Perez." + +"Senor! _Madre de Dios!_" she whispered. + +"Death reached him on his own land, senora. We passed the grave the +first day of the trail." + +Her face went very white as she made the sign of the cross. + +"Then he--Ramon----?" + +"No,--the general did not see Perez on the trail. He tried to escape +from Cavayso and the man sent a bullet to stop him. It was the end." + +She shuddered and covered her eyes. + +Kit got up and walked away. He looked back from where he tethered the +mules for the night, but she had not moved. The little crucifix was in +her hand, he thought she was praying. There were no more words to be +said, and he did not go near her again that night. He sent Clodomiro +with her _serape_ and pillow, and when the fire died down to glowing +ash, she arose and went to the couch prepared. She went without glance +to right or left--the great fear had taken itself away! + +Clodomiro rolled himself in a _serape_ not far from her place of rest, +but Kit Rhodes slept with the packs and with two guns beside him. From +the start on the trail no man had touched his outfit but himself. He +grinned sometimes at thought of the favorable report the men of Rotil +would deliver to their chief,--for the Americano had taken all +personal care of the packs and chests of Dona Jocasta! He was as an +owl and had no human need of sleep, and let no man help him. + +The trail to the canon of the Rio Seco was a hard trail, and a long +day, and night caught them ere they reached the rim of the dry wash +where, at long intervals, rain from the hills swept down its age-old +channel for a brief hour. + +Dona Jocasta, for the first time, had left the saddle and crept to the +rude couch afforded by the piled-up blankets in the wagon; Clodomiro +drove; and Kit, with the mules, led the way. + +A little water still swished about in their water bottles, but not +enough for the mules. He was more anxious than he dared betray, for it +was twenty miles to the lower well of La Partida, and if by any +stroke of fortune Cap Pike had failed to make good--Cap was old, and +liable to---- + +Then through the dusk of night he heard, quite near in the trail +ahead, a curious thing, the call of a bird--and not a night bird! + +It was a tremulous little call, and sent a thrill of such wild joy +through his heart that he drew back the mule with a sharp cruel jerk, +and held his breath to listen. Was he going _loco_ from lack of +sleep,--lack of water,--and dreams of---- + +It came again, and he answered it as he plunged forward down a +barranca and up the other side where a girl sat on a roan horse under +the stars:--his horse! also his girl! + +If he had entertained any doubts concerning the last--but he knew now +he never had; a rather surprising fact considering that no word had +ever been spoken of such ownership!--they would have been dispelled by +the way she slipped from the saddle into his arms. + +"Oh, and you didn't forget! you didn't forget!" she whimpered with her +head hidden against his breast. "I--I'm mighty glad of that. Neither +did I!" + +"Why, Lark-child, you've been right alongside wherever I heard that +call ever since I rode away," he said patting her head and holding her +close. He had a horrible suspicion that she was crying,--girls were +mysterious! "Now, now, now," he went on with a comforting pat to each +word, "don't worry about anything. I'm back safe, though in big need +of a drink,--and luck will come your way, and----" + +She tilted her cantin to him, and began to laugh. + +"But it has come my way!" she exulted. "O Kit, I can't keep it a +minute, Kit--we did find that sheepskin!" + +"What? A sheepskin?" He had no recollection of a lost sheepskin. + +"Yes, Cap Pike and I! In the bottom of an old chest of daddy's! We're +all but crazy because it came just when we were planning to give up +the ranch if we had to, and now that you are here--!" her sentence +ended in a happy sigh of utter content. + +"Sure, now that I'm here," he assented amicably, "we'll stop all that +moving business--_pronto_. That is if we live to get to water. What do +you know about any?" + +"Two barrels waiting for you, and Cap rustling firewood, but I heard +the wagon, and----" + +"Sure," he assented again. "Into the saddle with you and we'll get +there. The folks are all right, but the cayuses----" + +A light began to blaze on the level above, and the mules, smelling +water, broke into a momentary trot and were herded ahead of the two +who followed more slowly, and very close together. + +Cap Pike left the fire to stand guard over the water barrels and shoo +the mules away. + +"Look who's here?" he called waving his hat in salute. "The patriots +of Sonora have nothing on you when it comes to making collections on +their native heath! I left you a poor devil with a runt of a burro, a +cripple, and an Indian kid, and you've bloomed out into a bloated +aristocrat with a batch of high-class army mules. And say, you're just +in time, and you don't know it! We're in at last, by Je-rusalem, we're +_in_!" + +Kit grinned at him appreciatively, but was too busy getting water to +ask questions. The wagon was rattling through the dry river bed and +would arrive in a few minutes, and the first mules had to be got out +of the way. + +"You don't get it," said Billie alongside of him. "He means war. We're +in!" + +"With Mexico? _Again?_" smiled Kit skeptically. + +"No--something real--helping France!" + +"No!" he protested with radiant eyes. "Me for it! Say, children, this +is some homecoming!" + +The three shook hands, all talking at once, and Kit and Billie forgot +to let go. + +"Of course you know Cap swore an alibi for you against that suspicion +Conrad tried to head your way," she stated a bit anxiously. "You +stayed away so long!" + +"Yes, yes, Lark-child," he said reassuringly, "I know all that, and a +lot more. I've brought letters of introduction for the government to +some of Conrad's useful pacifist friends along the border. Don't you +fret, Billie boy; the spoke we put in their wheel will overturn their +applecart! The only thing worrying me just now,--beautifullest!--is +whether you'll wait for me till I enlist, get to France, do my stunt +to help clean out the brown rats of the world, and come back home to +marry you." + +"Yip-pee!" shrilled Pike who was slicing bacon into a skillet. "I'm +getting a line now on how you made your other collections!" + +Billie laughed and looked up at him a bit shyly. + +"I waited for you before without asking, and I reckon I can do it +again! I'm--I'm wonderfully happy--for I didn't want you to worry over +coming home broke--and----" + +"Whisper, Lark-child. _I'm not!_" + +"What?" + +"Whisper, I said," and he put one hand over her mouth and led her over +to the little gray burro. "Now, not even to Pike until we get home, +Billie,--but I've come out alive with the goods, while every other +soul who knew went 'over the range'! Buntin' carries your share. I +knew you were sure to find the sheepskin map sooner or later," he lied +glibly, "but luck didn't favor me hanging around for it. I had to get +it while the getting was good, but we three are partners for keeps, +Buntin' is yours, and I'll divide with Pike out of the rest." + +Billie touched the pack, tried to lift it, and stared. + +"You're crazy, Kit Rhodes!" + +"Too bad you've picked a crazy man to marry!" he laughed, and took off +the pack. "Seventy-five pounds in that. I've over three hundred. +Lark-child, if you remember the worth of gold per ounce, I reckon +you'll see that there won't need to be any delay in clearing off the +ranch debts,--not such as you would notice! and maybe I might qualify +as a ranch hand when I come back,--even if I couldn't hold the job the +first time." + +"O Kit! O Cap! O me!" she whispered chantingly. "Don't you dare wake +me up, for I'm having the dream of my life!" + +But he caught her, drew her close and kissed her hair rumpled in the +desert wind. + +And as the wagon drew into the circle of light, that was the picture +Dona Jocasta saw from the shadows of the covered wagon:--young love, +radiant and unashamed! + +She stared at them a moment strangely in a sudden mist of tears, as +Clodomiro jumped down and arranged for her to alight. Cap Pike looking +up, all but dropped the coffeepot. + +"Some little collector--that boy!" he muttered, and then aloud, "You +_Kit_!" + +Kit turned and came forward leading Billie, who suddenly developed +panic at vision of the most beautiful, tragic face she had ever seen. + +"Some collector!" murmured Cap Pike forgetting culinary operations to +stare. "Shades of Sheba's queen!" + +But Kit, whose days and nights of Mesa Blanca and Soledad had rather +unfitted him for hasty adjustments to conventions, or standardized +suspicion regarding the predatory male, held the little hand of Billie +very tightly, and did not notice her gasp of amazement. He went +forward to assist Dona Jocasta, whose hesitating half glance about her +only enhanced the wonder of jewel-green eyes whose beauty had been +theme of many a Mexic ballad. + +For these were the first Americanos she had ever met, and it was said +in the south that Americanos might be wild barbaros,--though the senor +of the songs---- + +The senor of the songs reached his hand and made his best bow as he +noted her sudden shrinking. + +"Here, Dona Jocasta, are friends of good heart. We are now on the edge +of the lands of La Partida, and this little lady is its padrona +waiting to give you welcome at the border. Folks, this is Senora Perez +who has escaped from hell by help of the guns of El Gavilan." + +"Dona Jocasta!" repeated Cap Pike standing in amazed incredulity with +the forgotten skillet at an awkward angle dripping grease into the +camp fire, but his amazement regarding personality did not at all +change his mental attitude as to the probable social situation. "Some +collector, Brother, but hell in Sonora isn't the only hell you can +blaze the trail to with the wrong combination!" + +Kit turned a silencing frown on the philosopher of the skillet, but +Billie went toward the guest with outstretching hands. + +"Dona Jocasta, oh!" she breathed as if one of her fairy tales of +beauty had come true, and then in Spanish she added the sweet gracious +old Castillian welcome, "Be at home with us on your own estate, Senora +Perez." + +Jocasta laid her hands on the shoulder of the girl, and looked in the +clear gray eyes. + +"You are Spanish, Senorita?" + +"My grandmother was." + +"Thanks to the Mother of God that you are not a strange Americana!" +sighed Jocasta in sudden relief. Then she turned to her American +courier and guard and salvation over the desert trails. + +"I saw," she said briefly. "She is as the young sister of me who--who +is gone to God! Make yourself her guard forever, Don Pajarito. May you +sing many songs together, and have no sorrows." + +After the substantial supper, Kit heard at first hand all the veiled +suspicion against himself as voiced in the fragment of old newspaper +wrapped around Fidelio's tobacco, and he and Dona Jocasta spread out +the records written by the padre, and signed by Jocasta and the +others, as witness of how Philip Singleton met death in the arroya of +the cottonwoods. + +"It is all here in this paper," said Jocasta, "and that is best. I can +tell the alcalde, yes, but if an--an accident had come to me on the +trail, the words on the paper would be the safer thing." + +"But fear on the trail is gone for you now," said Kit smiling at her +across the camp fire. Neither of them had said any word of life at +Mesa Blanca or Soledad, or of the work of Tula at the death. + +The German had strangled a priest, and escaped, and in ignorance of +trails had ridden into a quicksand, and that was all the outer world +need know of his end! + +The fascinated eyes of Billie dwelt on Jocasta with endless wonder. + +"And you came north with the guns and soldiers of Ramon Rotil,--how +wonderful!" she breathed. "And if the newspapers tell the truth I +reckon he needs the guns all right! Cap dear, where is that one Jose +Ortego rode in with from the railroad as we were leaving La Partida?" + +"In my coat, Honey. You go get it--you are younger than this +old-timer." + +Jocasta followed Billie with her eyes, though she had not understood +the English words between them. It was not until the paper was +unfolded with an old and very bad photograph of Ramon Rotil staring +from the front page that she whispered a prayer and reached out her +hand. The headline to the article was only three words in heavy type +across the page: "Trapped at last!" + +But the words escaped her, and that picture of him in the old days +with the sombrero of a peon on his head and his audacious eyes smiling +at the world held her. No picture of him had ever before come her way; +strange that it should be waiting for her there at the border! + +The Indian boy at sight of it, stepped nearer, and stood a few paces +from her, looking down. + +"It calls," he said. + +It was the first time he had spoken except to make reply since +entering the American camp. Dona Jocasta frowned at him and he moved a +little apart, leaning,--a slender dark, semi-nude figure, against the +green and yellow mist of a palo verde tree,--listening with downcast +eyes. + +Dona Jocasta looked from the pictured face to the big black letters +above. + +"Is it a victorious battle, for him?" she asked and Kit hesitated to +make reply, but Billie, not knowing reason for silence, blurted out +the truth even while her eyes were occupied by another column. + +"Not exactly, senora. But here is something of real interest to you, +something of Soledad--oh, I _am_ sorry!" + +"What does it say,--Soledad?" + +"See!--I forgot you don't know the English!" + + * * * * * + +Troops from the south to rescue Don Jose Perez from El Gavilan at +Soledad turn guns on that survival of old mission days, and level it +to the ground. Soledad was suspected as an ammunition magazine for the +bandit chief, and it is feared Senor Perez is held in the mountains +for ransom, as no trace of him has been found. + + * * * * * + +"Now you've done it," remarked Kit, and Billie turned beseeching eyes +on the owner of Soledad, and repeated miserably--"I _am_ so sorry!" + +But Dona Jocasta only lifted her head with a certain disdain, and +veiled the emerald eyes slightly. + +"So!" she murmured with a shrug of the shoulder. "It is then a bandit +he is called in the words of the American newspaper?" + +Cap Pike not comprehending the rapid musical Spanish, leaned forward +fishing for a coal to light his pipe, noting her voice and watching +her eyes. + +"There you have it already!" he muttered to Kit. "All velvet, and mad +as hell!" + +Billie, much bewildered, turned to Kit as for help, but the slender +hand of Dona Jocasta reached out pointing to the headlines. + +"And--this?" she said coldly. "It is, you say, not victorious for +Ramon Rotil, that--bandit?" + +"It says, senora," hesitated Billie, "that he is hid in the hills, +and----" + +"That we know," stated Dona Jocasta, "what other thing?" + +"'He has a wound and was carried by his men to one of his retreats, a +hidden place,'" read Billie slowly, translating into Spanish as she +went on. "That is all except that the Federals had to retreat +temporarily because a storm caused trouble and washed out a bridge +over which their ammunition train has to go. The place of the accident +is very bad. Timber and construction engineers are being rushed to +service there, but for a few days luck is with the Hawk." + +"So!--For a few days!" repeated Dona Jocasta in the cool sweet voice. +"In a few days Ramon Rotil could cross Mexico. He is El Gavilan!" + +Things were coming too fast for Billie. She regarded the serenity of +Dona Jocasta with amazement, and tried to imagine how she would feel +if enemy guns battered down the old walls of Granados, or--thought of +terror--if Kit should be held in the hills and tortured for ransom! + +"Speaking of floods," remarked Pike in amiable desire to bridge over +an awkward pause, "we've used half the water we brought, and need to +make a bright and early start tomorrow. Rio Seco is no garden spot to +get caught in short of water. Our La Partida mules are fresh as +daisies right off a month of range, but yours sure look as if they had +made the trip." + +"What does he say,--the old senor?" asked Dona Jocasta. + +Billie translated for her, whereupon she arose and summoned Clodomiro +by a gesture. + +"My bed," she said briefly, "over there," and she indicated a thicket +of greasewood the wagon had passed on their arrival. "Also this first +night of safety you will be the sentinel to keep guard that Senor +Rhodes may at last have sleep. All the danger trail he had none." + +Cap Pike protested that he do guard duty, but the smile of Dona +Jocasta won her way. + +"He is younger and not weary, senor. It is good for him, and it +pleases me," she said. + +"The camp is yours," he agreed weakly, and against his better +judgment. He did not like Indians who were like "sulky slim brown dumb +snakes"; that was what he muttered when he looked at Clodomiro. In his +irritation at the Indian's silence it didn't even occur to him that he +never had known any snakes but dumb ones. + +But if the voice of Clodomiro was uncannily silent, his eyes spoke for +him as they followed Dona Jocasta. Kit could only think of a lost, +homesick dog begging for the scent of the trail to his own kennel. He +said so to Billie as he made her bed in the camp wagon. + +"Cap and I will be right here at the hind wheels," he promised. +"Yes,--sure, I'll let the Indian ride herd for the night. Dona Jocasta +is right, it's his turn, and we seem to have passed the danger line." + +"Knock wood!" cautioned Billie. + +So he rapped his head with his knuckles, and they laughed together as +young happy things do at trifles. Then he stretched himself for sleep +under the stars and almost within arm's reach of the girl--the girl +who had ridden to meet him in the night, the wonderful girl who had +promised to wait until he came back from France ... of course he could +get into the army _now_! They would need men too badly to turn him +down again. If there was a trifle of discrepancy in sight of his +eyes--which he didn't at all believe--he had the dust now, also the +nuggets, to buy any and all treatment to adjust _that_ little matter. +He had nearly four hundred pounds, aside from giving all he dared give +at once as Tula's gift to those women of the slave raid. After the +war was over he would find ways of again crossing over to the great +treasure chest in the hidden canon. The little information Pike had +managed to convey to him about that sheepskin map told him that the +most important indications had been destroyed during those years it +had been buried for safe-keeping. The only true map in existence was +the one in his own memory,--no use to tell Pike and Billie that! He +could leave them in comfort and content, and when he got back from +France--He wondered how long it would last--the war. Hadn't the +greatest of Americans tried three years ago to hammer the fact into +the alleged brain pans of the practical politicians that the sooner +the little old United States made guns, and ships, and flying machines +for _herself_, the sooner she could help end that upheaval of hell in +Europe?... and they wouldn't listen! Listen?--They brought every ounce +of influence they could round up to silence those facts,--the +eternally condemned ostriches sticking their own heads in the sand to +blind the world to the situation! Now they were in, and he wondered if +they had even ten rounds of ammunition for the cartridge belts of the +few trained soldiers in service? They had not had even three rounds +for the showy grand review attempted in Texas not long since; also the +transportation had been a joke, some of the National Guards started, +but never did arrive--and France was a longer trail than Texas. God! +they should be ready to fight as the French were ready, in twelve +hours--and it would have to be months--a long unequal hell for a time +over there, but only one finish, and the brown rats driven back to +their den! After that the most wonderful girl would--would--would---- + +Then all the sleep due him on the sleepless trail settled over him +like a net weighted, yet very caressing, and the world war and the +wonderful girl drifted far away! + +Beyond, on the other side of the fire, and out of the circle of light, +Clodomiro bore the _serape_ of Dona Jocasta, and made clear the place +for her couch. She had returned to the light of the fire and was +scanning again the annoying paper of the Americanos. Especially that +remembered face of the audacious eyes. They were different eyes in +these latter days, level and cynical, and sometimes cruel. + +"He calls," said Clodomiro again beside her. She had not heard him, +and turned in anger that he dare startle her. + +"Who does he call?" she asked irritably tossing aside the paper. + +"All Mexico, I think. All Mexico's heart," and he touched his breast. +"Me, I do not sleep. I do your work and when the end of the trail is +yours, I ask, Excellencia, that you send me back that I find him +again,--the Deliverer!" + +"What did Ramon Rotil ever do for you that you fret like a chained +coyote because his enemies are strong?" + +"Not anything, Excellencia. Me, he would not know if I told him my +name, but--he is the Deliverer who will help the clans. Also, _she_ +would go,--Tula. _Sangre de Christo!_ there would be no chain strong +enough to hold her back if his wounds cried for help." + +"If--his wounds cried for help!" repeated Dona Jocasta mechanically. + +"It is true, Excellencia, El Gavilan was giving help to many people in +the lands he crossed. Now the many will forget, and like a hawk with +the weight of an arrow in his breast he will fly alone to a high nest +of the hills. Death will nest with him there some night or some day, +Excellencia. And the many will forget." + +"Quiet you!" ordered Dona Jocasta angrily. + +Abashed, Clodomiro went silent, and with a murmured apology took +himself into the shadows. + +She lifted the pictured face barely discernible now in the diminished +light. + +"And--the many will forget!" she repeated irritably. "The boy has the +truth of it, but if _she_ had lived, so terribly wicked,--so lost of +God, I wonder if----" + +She lifted her face looking up at the still stars as if for light on a +thought, then flung her hands out despairingly and turned away to the +couch by the green bush of fragrant yellow bloom. + +But not to sleep. Long after the Americanos were wrapped in slumber a +little blaze sent glimmer of light through the undergrowth, and she +saw Clodomiro stretched beside the fire. He had tossed a bit of +greasewood on the coals that he might again study the face of El +Gavilan. + +She had heard him say that if no desert wind lifted the sand he could +follow to that hidden nest of the Hawk. It was very dark now except +for glimmer of stars through lacy, slow-drifting clouds,--there was no +wind. Later there would be a waning moon! Much of every waking life +is a dream, and her dreams were of the No Man's Land of the +desert,--the waterless trail from which she had been rescued for +peace! + +Twice during the night Kit roused from the depths sufficiently to +realize that sleep is one of the greatest gifts to man. Once Clodomiro +was stretched by the little fire inspecting the paper he could not +read, the second time he thought Baby Bunting was nosing around trying +to get close to human things. Both times he reached out his hands to +the precious packs beside which he slept on the trail. All were safe, +and he drifted again into a great ocean of slumber. + +He was wakened at dawn by the voice of Cap Pike, keyed high for an +ultra display of profanity. + +"By the jumping Je-hosophat, I knew it!" he shrilled. "That's your +latest collection, begod! I hoped he wouldn't, and knew he would! The +all-firedest finest pair of mules on Granados, and every water bag in +the outfit! Can you beat it?" + +At the first shout Kit jumped to his feet, his eyes running rapidly +over his pack saddle outfit. All was safe there, and as Billie lifted +her head and looked at him drowsily over the edge of the wagon bed he +realized that in the vital things of life all was well with his +world. + +"Let Sheba run your camp, and run it to hell, will you?" went on Cap +Pike accusingly. He was thrashing around among the growth back of +the Soledad outfit wagon where the mules had been tethered. +"Two--four--six, and Baby Buntin'--yes sir! Lit out by the dark of +the moon, and left neither hide nor hair,--" + +"Oh, be reasonable, Cap!" protested Kit. "Buntin' isn't gone--she's +right alongside here, waiting for breakfast." + +"You're shoutin' she's here; so is every dragged-to-death skate you +hit camp with! It's Billie's crackerjack mules, the pick of the ranch, +that the bare-legged greasy heathen hit the trail with! And every +water bag!" + +"Well," decided Kit, verifying the water statement by a glance at the +barrels, "no one is to blame. The boy didn't want to come this trail. +He stuck until we were over the rough of it, and then he cut loose. A +pair of mules isn't so bad." + +"Now, of course not!" agreed Cap sarcastically. "A mere A-number-one +pair of mules belonging to another fellow is only a flea bite to offer +a visitor for supper! Well, all _I_ got to say----" + +"Don't say it, Cap dear," suggested Billie. "The Indian was here +because of Dona Jocasta, and _she_ can't help it! As she doesn't +understand English, she'll probably think you're murdering some of us +over here. Whist now, and put your muzzle on! We'll get home without +the two mules. I'll go and tell her that the hysterics is your way of +offering morning prayers!" + +She slipped away, laughing at his protests, but when a little past the +fire place she halted, standing very still, peering beyond at +something on the ground under the greasewood where the _serape_ of +Dona Jocasta had been spread. No _serape_ or sleeper was there! + +Kit noted her startled pause, and in a few strides was beside her; +then, without a word, the two went forward together and he picked up +the package of papers laid carefully under the greasewood. He knew +without opening them what they were,--the records made for her safety, +and for his, in Soledad, place of tragedies. + +"They are the papers I was to put on record for her in case--Well, +I'll do it, and you'll take care of the copies for her, Billie, +and--and do your best for the girl if a chance ever comes. We owe her +a lot more than she will ever guess,--our gold come out of Mexico +under the guard arranged for her, and when I come back----" + +"But Kit," protested Billie, "to think of her alone with that thieving +Indian! He took flour and bacon too! And if she hopes to find her +husband----" + +"She doesn't," concluded Kit thoughtfully turning over the certificate +signed by the padre and him, of the husband's safe burial in the sands +of Soledad. He glanced at Billie in doubt. One never knew how safe it +was to tell things,--some things,--to a woman; also Billie was so +enchanted by Jocasta's sad beauty, and---- + +"No, I reckon she doesn't hope much along that line. She has probably +gone back to the wilderness for another reason,--one I never suspected +until last night. And Lark-child, we won't talk about that, not at +least till I return from the 'back of beyond' over there," and he +pointed eastward where shafts of copper light touched the gray veil of +the morning. + +After his first explosion of amazement Cap Pike regarded the +elopement, as he called it, very philosophically, considering his +disgust over lost mules and flour and bacon. + +"What did I tell you right here last night?" he demanded of Kit. "Soft +as velvet and hard as hell,--that's what I said! She looks to me like +a cross between a saint in a picture frame and a love bird in a tree, +and her eyes! Yet after all no man can reckon on that blood,--she is +only a girl of the hills down there, and the next we hear of her +she'll likely be leaden' a little revolution of her own." + +The young chap made no reply, but busied himself hastening a scant +breakfast in order that the worn mules be got to water before the +worst heat of a dry day. Also the losses to the culinary outfit did +make problems for the trip. + +Cap eyed him askance for a space, and then with a chuckle wilfully +misconstrued his silence and lowered his tone. + +"I don't blame you for feeling downhearted on your luck, Bub, for she +sure was a looker! But it's all in a lifetime, and as you ramble along +in years, you'll find that most any hombre can steal them, and take +them home, but when it comes to getting a permanent clinch on the +female affections----" + +Billie, who was giving a short ration of water to the burro, called +across to ask what Kit was laughing at in that hilarious way. She also +stated that she did not think it a morning for hilarity, not at all! +That wonderful, beautiful, mystery woman might be going to her death! + +After the packs were all on, Cap Pike swung the mules of the first +wagon into the home trail and passed over the mesa singing rakishly. + + _Oh-h! Biddy McGee has been after me, + Since I've been in the army!_ + +And Billie turned in the saddle to take a last look over the trail +where the woman of the emerald eyes had passed in the night. + +"All my life I have looked, and looked into the beautiful mirages of +the south desert wondering what would come out of it--and _she_ was +the answer," she said, smiling at Kit. "Tomorrow I'll feel as if it +was all a dream, all but the wonderful red gold, and you! Some fine +day we'll take a little _pasear_ down there, I'll follow that dream +trail, and----" + +"You will not!" decided the chosen of her heart with rude certainty. +"The dreams of that land of mirages are likely to breed nightmares. +You are on the right side of the border for women to stay. Our old +American eagle is a pretty safe bird to roost with." + +"Well," debated the only girl, "if it comes to that, Mexico also has +the eagle, and had it first!" + +"Yes, contrary child," he conceded, herding the mules into line, "so +it has,--but the eagle of Mexico is still philandering with a helmeted +serpent. Wise gamblers reserve their bets on that game, we can only +hope that the eagle fights its way free!" + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Treasure Trail, by Marah Ellis Ryan + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TREASURE TRAIL *** + +***** This file should be named 29694.txt or 29694.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/6/9/29694/ + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://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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