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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ead189b --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #51987 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51987) diff --git a/old/51987-0.txt b/old/51987-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index d91e6e1..0000000 --- a/old/51987-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,10926 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Webster--Man's Man, by Peter B. Kyne - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Webster--Man's Man - -Author: Peter B. Kyne - -Illustrator: Dean Cornwell - -Release Date: May 3, 2016 [EBook #51987] -Last Updated: March 12, 2018 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WEBSTER--MAN'S MAN *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - - - - - - -WEBSTER--MAN'S MAN - -By Peter B. Kyne - -Author Of “Cappy Ricks” - -“The Three Godfathers,” Etc. - -Illustrated By Dean Cornwell - -[Illustration:ustration: 0006] - -[Illustration:ustration: 0007] - -New York - -Doubleday, Page & Company - -1917 - - - - - -WEBSTER-MAN'S MAN - - - - -CHAPTER I - -|WHEN John Stuart Webster, mining engineer and kicker-up-of-dust on -distant trails, flagged the S. P., L. A. & S. L. Limited at a blistered -board station in Death Valley, California, he had definitely resolved to -do certain things. To begin, he would invade the dining car at the first -call to dinner and order approximately twenty dollars' worth of ham and -eggs, which provender is, as all who know will certify, the pinnacle of -epicurean delight to an old sour-dough coming out of the wilderness with -a healthy bankroll and a healthier appetite; for even as the hydrophobic -dog avoids water, so does the adventurer of the Webster type avoid -the weird concoctions of high-priced French chefs until he has first -satisfied that void which yawns to receive ham and eggs. - -Following the ham and eggs, Mr. Webster planned to saturate himself from -soul to vermiform appendix with nicotine, which he purposed obtaining -from tobacco with nicotine in it. It was a week since he had smoked -anything, and months since he had tasted anything with an odour even -remotely like tobacco, for the August temperature in Death Valley is no -respecter of moisture in any man or his tobacco. By reason of the fact -that he had not always dwelt in Death Valley, however, John Stuart -Webster knew the dining-car steward would have in the ice chest some -wonderful cigars, wonderfully preserved. - -Webster realized that, having sampled civilization thus far, his debauch -would be at an end until he reached Salt Lake City-unless, indeed, he -should find aboard the train something fit to read or somebody worth -talking to. Upon arrival in Salt Lake City, however, his spree would -really begin. Immediately upon leaving the train he would proceed to -a clothing shop and purchase a twenty-five-dollar ready-to-wear suit, -together with the appurtenances thereunto pertaining or in any wise -belonging. These habiliments he would wear just long enough to shop in -respectably and without attracting the attention of the passing throng; -and when later his “tailor-mades” and sundry other finery should be -delivered, he would send the store clothes to one Ubehebe Henry, a -prospector down in the Mojave country, who would appreciate them and -wear them when he came to town in the fall to get drunk. - -Having arranged for the delivery of his temporary attire at the best -hotel in town, Webster designed chartering a taxicab and proceeding -forthwith to that hotel, where he would engage a sunny room with a bath, -fill the bathtub, climb blithely in and soak for two hours at least, -for it was nearly eight months since he had had a regular bath and he -purposed making the most of his opportunity. His long-drawn ablutions at -length over, he would don a silken dressing gown and slippers, order up -a barber, and proceed to part with enough hair and whiskers to upholster -an automobile; and upon the completion of his tonsorial adventures he -would encase his person in a suit of mauve-coloured silk pajamas, climb -into bed and stay there for forty-eight hours, merely waking long enough -to take another bath, order up periodical consignments of ham and -eggs and, incidentally, make certain that a friendly side-winder or -chuck-walla hadn't crawled under the blankets with him. - -So much for John Stuart Webster's plans. Now for the gentleman himself. -No one--not even the Pullman porter, shrewd judge of mankind that he -was--could have discerned in the chrysalis that flagged the Limited -the butterfly of fashion that was to be. As the ebony George raised -the vestibule platform, opened the car door and looked out, he had no -confidence in the lean, sun-baked big man standing by the train. Plainly -the fellow was not a first-class passenger but a wandering prospector, -for he was dog-dirty, a ruin of rags and hairy as a tarantula. The only -clean thing about him was a heavy-calibred automatic pistol of the army -type, swinging at his hip. - -“Day coach an' tourist up in front,” the knight of the whiskbroom -announced in disapproving tones and started to close down the platform. - -“So I perceived,” John Stuart Webster replied blandly. “I also observed -that you failed to employ the title _sir_ when addressing a white man. -Put that platform back and hop out here with your little stool, you -saddle-coloured son of Senegambia, or I'll make you a hard porter to -catch.” - -“Yassah, yassah!” the porter sputtered, and obeyed instantly. Mr. -Webster handed him a disreputable-looking suitcase and stepped aboard -in state, only to be informed by the sleeping-car conductor that there -wasn't a vacant first-class berth on the train. - -“Yes, I know I'm dirty,” the late arrival announced cheerfully, “but -still, as Bobby Burns once remarked, 'a man's a man for a' that'--and -I'm _not_ unsanitary. I sloshed around some in Furnace Creek the night -before last, and while of course I got the top layer off, still, a -fellow can't accomplish a great deal without hot water, soap, a good -scrubbing-brush and a can of lye.” - -“I'm very sorry,” the conductor replied perfunctorily and endeavoured to -pass on, but Webster secured a firm grip on his lapel and frustrated the -escape. - -“You're not sorry,” the ragged wanderer declared, “not one little bit. -You're only apprehensive. However, you needn't be. There is no wild -life on me, brother, I assure you. If you can prove it, I'll give you -a thousand-dollar bill for each and every bit of testimony you can -adduce.” - -“But I tell you, the train is full up. You'll have to roost in the -daycoach or the tourist. I'm very sorry----” - -“So am I, for I know what daycoaches and tourist-cars smell like in the -middle of August, because, as the poet says, I've been there many a -time and oft.' Nevertheless, despite your deep grief, something tells me -you're spoofing, so while I must, of necessity, accept your suggestion, -said acceptance will be but temporary. In about two hours, young fellow, -you're going to make the alarming discovery that you have bats in your -belfry.” And with a whiskery grin which, under the circumstances, was -charming in its absolute freedom from malice, Mr. Webster departed for -the daycoach. - -Two hours later the conductor found him in the aforementioned daycoach, -engaged in a mild game of poker with a mule-skinner, a Chinaman, an aged -prospector, and a half-breed Indian, and waited until Mr. Webster, on a -bob-tailed club flush, bluffed the Chinaman out of a dollar-and-a-half -pot. - -“Maud, Lily, and Kate!” Webster murmured, as the Celestial laid down -three queens and watched his ragged opponent rake in the pot. “Had I -held those three queens and had you made a two-card draw as I did, only -death could have stopped me from seeing what you held! Hello! Here's -Little Boy Blue again. All right, son. Blow your horn.” - -“Are you Mr. John S. Webster?” - -“Your assumption that I am that person is so eminently correct that -it would be a waste of time for me to dispute it,” Webster replied -quizzically. “However, just to prove that you're not the only -clairvoyant on this train, I'm going to tell _you_ something about -_yourself_. In your pocket you have a telegram; it is from -Chicago, where your pay-check originates; it is a short, sweet, and -comprehensive, containing an order which you are going to obey. It reads -somewhat as follows: - -“'My friend, John S. Webster, wires me from Blank that he boarded train -at Blank and was refused first-class accommodation because he looked -like a hobo. Give him the best you have in stock, if you have to throw -somebody off the train to accommodate him. Unless you see your way clear -to heed this suggestion your resignation is not only in order but has -already been accepted.' Signed, 'Sweeney.' - -“Do I hit the target?” - -The conductor nodded. “You win, Mr. Webster,” he admitted. - -“Occasionally I lose, old-timer. Well?” - -“Who the devil is Sweeney?” - -John Stuart Webster turned to his cosmopolitan comrades of the national -game. “Listen to him,” he entreated them. “He has worked for the -company, lo, these many years, and he doesn't know who Sweeney is?” He -eyed the conductor severely. “Sweeney,” he declared, “is the man who -is responsible for the whichness of the why-for. Ignorance of the man -higher up excuses no sleeping-car conductor, and if your job is gone -when you reach Salt Lake, old-timer, don't blame it on me, but rather -on your distressing propensity to ask foolish questions. _Vamos, amigo_, -and leave me to my despair. Can't you see I'm happy here?” - -“No offense, Mr. Webster, no offense. I can let you have a -stateroom----” - -“That's trading talk. I'll take it.” - -The conductor gave him his receipt and led him back to the stateroom in -the observation-car. At the door Webster handed him a five-dollar bill. -“For you, son,” he said gently, “just to take the sting out of what I'm -about to tell you. Now that I possess your receipt and know that ten men -and a boy cannot take it away from me, I'm going to tell you who Sweeney -is.” - -“Who is he?” the conductor queried. Already he suspected he had been -outgeneralled. - -“Sweeney,” said Mr. Webster, “is the chief clerk in one of Chicago's -most pretentious hotels and a young man who can find all the angles of a -situation without working it out in logarithms. I wired him the details -of my predicament; he heard the Macedonian cry and kicked in. Neat, is -it not?” - -The conductor grinned. “I hate to take your money,” he declared. - -“Don't. Just at present I'm very flush. Yes, sir, I'm as prosperous as -a yearling burro up to his ears in alfalfa, and the only use I have ever -found for money is to make other people happy with it, thereby getting -some enjoyment out of it myself. Just as soon as I get a little chunk -together, some smarter man than I takes it all away from me again--so -the cleaning process might just as well start here. When I'm broke I'll -make some more.” - -“How?” - -“By remembering that all a man needs in this world, in order to excel, -is about two per cent, more courage than a jack-rabbit; also that an -ounce of promotion in a world of boobs is worth a ton of perspiration. -Thank you for falling for my bluff.” - -And having wotted the which, Mr. Webster retired to his hard-won -sanctuary, where he removed as much alkali and perspiration as he could, -carded his long hair and whiskers, manicured his finger nails with a -jack-knife, changed his shirt, provided five minutes of industry for -George, with his whiskbroom and brush, and set himself patiently to -await the first call to dinner. - -The better to hear the dinner call Webster left his stateroom door open, -and presently a pink-jowled, well-curried, flashily dressed big man, of -about Webster's age, passed in the corridor, going toward the head of -the train. An instant later a woman's voice said very distinctly: - -“I do not know you, sir; I do not wish to know you, and it is loathsome -of you to persist in addressing me. If you do not stop your annoying -attentions, I shall call the conductor.” - -“Ah! Beauty in distress,” John Stuart Webster soliloquized. “I look so -much like an Angora goat I might as well butt in.” He stepped to the -door of his stateroom. A girl stood in the vestibule, confronting the -man who had just passed Webster's door. Webster bowed. - -“Madame, or mademoiselle, as the case may be,” he said, “unlike this -other male biped, my sole purpose in presuming to address you is to -suggest that there is not the slightest necessity for taking this matter -up with the conductor. I am here and very much at your service.” - -The girl turned--and John Stuart Webster's heart flopped twice in rapid -succession, like a trout newly grassed. She was as lovely as a royal -flush. Her starry glance began at his miner's boots, travelled up his -old, soiled, whipcord trousers, over his light blue chambray shirt -and found the man behind the whiskers. She favoured him with a quick, -curious scrutiny and a grave, sweet smile. “Thank you so much, sir,” she -answered, and passed down the corridor to the observation-car. - -“Well, old-timer,” Webster greeted the fellow who had been annoying -her, “how about you? What do you think we ought to do about this little -affair?” - -“The sensible thing would be to do--nothing.” - -“Nothing?” - -“Nothing.” - -“Why?” - -“You might start something you couldn't finish.” - -“That's a dare,” Webster declared brightly, “and wasn't it the immortal -_Huckleberry Finn_ who remarked that anybody that'd take a dare would -suck eggs and steal sheep?” He caressed his beard meditatively. “They -say the good Lord made man to His own image and likeness. I take it -those were only the specifications for the building complete--the -painting and interior decorating, not to mention the furnishings, being -let to a sub-contractor.” He was silent a few seconds, appraising his -man. “I suppose you commenced operations by moving into her section and -asking if she would like to have the window open and enjoy the fresh -air. Of course if she had wanted the window open, she would have called -the porter. She rebuffed you, but being a persistent devil, you followed -her into the observation-car, and in all probability you ogled her at -luncheon and ruined her appetite. And just now, when you met her in -this vestibule, you doubtless jostled her, begged her pardon and -without waiting to be introduced asked her to have dinner with you this -evening.” - -“Well?” the fellow echoed belligerently. - -“It's all bad form. You shouldn't try to make a mash on a lady. I don't -know who she is, of course, but she's not common; she's travelling -without a chaperon, I take it, and for the sake of the mother that bore -me I always respect and protect a good woman and whale hell out of those -that do not.” - -He reached inside his stateroom and pressed the bell. The porter arrived -on the run. - -“George,” said Mr. Webster, “in a few minutes we're due at Smithville. -If my memory serves me aright, we stop five minutes for water and -orders.” - -“Yassah.” - -“Remain right here and let me off as soon as the train comes to a stop.” - -When the train slid to a grinding halt and the porter opened the car -door, Webster pointed. - -“Out!” he said. “This is no nice place to pull off a scrap.” - -“See here, neighbour, I don't want to have any trouble with you----” - -“I know it. All the same, you're going to have it--or come with me to -that young lady and beg her pardon.” - -There are some things in this world which the most craven of men will -not do--and the vanity of that masher forbade acceptance of Webster's -alternative. He preferred to fight, but--he did not purpose being -thrashed. He resolved on strategy. - -“All right. I'll apologize,” he declared, and started forward as if -to pass Webster in the vestibule, on his way to the observation-car, -whither the subject of his annoying attentions had gone. Two steps -brought him within striking distance of his enemy, and before Webster -could dodge, a sizzling righthanded blow landed on his jaw and set him -back on his haunches in the vestibule. - -It was almost a knockout--almost, but not quite. As Webster's body -struck the floor the big automatic came out of the holster; swinging in -a weak circle, it covered the other. - -“That was a daisy,” Webster mumbled. “If you move before my head clears, -I'll put four bullets into you before you reach the corridor.” - -He waited about a minute; then with the gun he pointed to the car -door, and the masher stepped out. Webster handed the porter his gun and -followed; two minutes later he returned, dragging his assailant by the -collar. Up the steps he jerked the big battered hulk and tossed it in -the corner of the vestibule, just as the girl came through the car, -making for the diner up ahead. - -Again she favoured him with that calm, grave, yet vitally interested -gaze, nodded appreciatively, made as if to pass on, changed her mind, -and said very gravely: “You are--a very courtly gentleman, sir.” - -He bowed. There was nothing else to do, nothing that he could say, -under the circumstances; to use his chivalry as a wedge to open an -acquaintance never occurred to him--but his whiskers did occur to him. -Hastily he backed into his stateroom and closed the door; presently -he rose and surveyed himself critically in the small mirror over the -washstand. - -“No, Johnny,” he murmured, “we can't go into the diner now. We're too -blamed disreputable. We were bad enough before that big swine hung -the shanty on our right eye, but whatever our physical and personal -feelings, far be it from us to parade our iridescent orb in public. -Besides, one look at that queen is enough to do us for the remainder of -our natural life, and a second look, minus a proper introduction, would -only drive us into a suicide's grave. That's a fair sample of our -luck, Johnny. It rains duck soup--and we're there like a Chinaman--with -chopsticks; and on the only day in the history of the human race, here -I am with a marvellous black eye, a dislocated thumb, four skinned -knuckles, and a grouch, while otherwise looking like a cross between -_Rip Van Winkle_ and a hired man.” He sighed, rang for the porter and -told him to send a waiter for his order, since he would fain break his -fast in the privacy of his stateroom. And when the waiter came for the -order, such was Mr. Webster's mental perturbation that ham and eggs -were furthest from his thoughts. He ordered a steak with French fried -potatoes. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -|JOHN STUART WEBSTER passed a restless night. Sleep came to him in -hourly installments, from which he would rouse to ask himself whether -it was worth while to continue to go through the motions of living, -or alight at the next station, seek a lonely and unfrequented spot and -there surrender to outrageous fortune. He had _lived_ every moment of -his life; fair fortune and ill had been his portion so often that he had -long since ceased to care which took precedence over the other; to quote -Mr. Kipling, he had schooled himself to “treat those two impostors both -the same”--not a very difficult task, if one be granted a breathing -spell between the arrival of each impostor! Hitherto, in Webster's -experience, there had always been a decent interval between the two--say -a day, a week, a month or more; whereas in the present instance, two -minutes had sufficed to make the journey from a heaven of contentment to -the dungeons of despair. - -It was altogether damnable. In a careless moment, Fate had accorded -him a glimpse of the only woman he had ever met and desired to meet -again--for Webster was essentially a man's man, and his profession -and environment had militated against his opportunities for meeting -extraordinary women; and extraordinary women were the only kind that -could hope to challenge his serious attention. Had his luck changed -there, he might have rested content with his lot--but it hadn't. Fate -had gone farther. She had accorded him a signal opportunity for knightly -combat in the service of this extraordinary woman; and in the absence -of a formal introduction, what man could desire a finer opportunity -for getting acquainted! If only their meeting had but been delayed -two weeks, ten days, a week! Once free of his ugly cocoon of rags and -whiskers, the butterfly Webster would not have hesitated one brief -instant to inform himself of that young lady's name and address, -following his summary disposal of her tormentor. Trusting to the mingled -respect and confusion in his manner, and to her own womanly intuition to -warn her that no rudeness or brazen familiarity was intended, he would -have presented himself before her and addressed her in these words: - -“A few minutes ago, Miss, you were gracious enough to accord me the -rare pleasure of being of slight service to you. May I presume on that -evidence of your generosity and perfect understanding to risk a seeming -impertinence by presuming to address you?” - -Webster pictured her as bowing, favouring him with that grave yet -interested scrutiny and saying: “Certainly, sir.” Whereupon he would -say: - -“It has occurred to me--for, like _Bimi_, the orangoutang, I have -perhaps too much ego in my cosmos--that you might be charitably moved -to admit me to the happy circle of those privileged to call you by name. -Were there a mutual friend on this train whom I could prevail upon to -introduce me formally, I should not be reduced to the necessity of being -unconventional. Under the circumstances, however, I am daring enough to -presume that this misfortune is not so great that I should permit it to -interfere with my respectful desires. Therefore--have I your permission -to present myself, with the hope that in so doing I _may_ feel freer -to be of additional service to you throughout the remainder of our -journey?” - -That would be a pretty, a graceful speech--a little ornate, doubtless, -but diplomatic in the extreme. Having been accorded permission to -introduce himself, he would cease thereafter to be flowery. However, -Webster realized that however graceful might be his speech and bearing, -should he essay the great adventure in the morning, his appearance would -render him ridiculous and presumptuous and perhaps shock and humiliate -her; for in all things there is a limit, and John Stuart Webster's right -eye constituted a deadline beyond which, as a gentleman, he dared not -venture; so with a heavy heart he bowed to the inevitable. Brilliant and -mysterious as a meteorite she had flashed once across his horizon and -was gone. - -In the privacy of his stateroom Webster had ham and eggs for breakfast. -He was lighting his second cigar when the porter knocked and entered -with an envelope. - -“Lady in the observation-car asked me to deliver this to you, sah,” he -announced importantly. - -It 'was a note, freshly written on the train stationery. Webster read: - -The distressed lady desires to thank the gentleman in stateroom A for -his chivalry of yesterday. She quite realizes that the gentleman's offer -to relieve her of the annoyance to which she was being subjected was -such a direct expression of his nature and code, that to have declined -his aid would have been discourteous, despite her distress at the -possible outcome. She is delighted to know that her confidence in the -ability of her champion has been fully justified by a swift and sweeping -victory, but profoundly sorry that in her service the gentleman in -stateroom A was so unfortunate as to acquire a red eye with blue -trimmings. - -John Stuart Webster swore his mightiest oath, “By the twelve apostles, -Simon Peter, Andrew, James, John, Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew, Thomas, -James, Jude, and Simon, not omitting Judas Iscariot, the scaly scoundrel -who betrayed his Lord and Master!” He searched through an old wallet -until he discovered a fairly clean professional card, across the -bottom of which he wrote, “Thank you. J. S.W.” and sent it to the -no-longer-distressed lady. - -“The most signal adventure of my life is now over,” he soliloquized and -turned to his cigar. “For the sake of my self-respect, I had to let -her know I'm not a hobo! And now to the task of framing up a scheme -for future acquaintance. I must learn her name and destination; so as a -preliminary I'll interview the train conductor.” - -He did, and under the ameliorating influence of a five-dollar bill the -conductor bent a respectful ear to the Websterian message. - -“In Car Seven,” he began, “there is a young lady. I do not know what -section she occupies; neither do I know her name and destination. I only -know what she looks like.” - -The conductor nodded. “And you want to ascertain her name and -destination?” - -“I do.” - -“Easiest thing in life. There is only one young lady in Car Seven. I -suppose you mean that queen with the olive complexion, the green suit, -and----” - -“Hold! Enough.” - -“All right. I have the unused portion of her transportation to return to -her before we hit Salt Lake; her name is on the ticket, and the ticket -indicates her destination. I'll make a mental note of both as soon as -I've identified her ticket.” - -“After you've made the said mental note,” Webster pleaded, “be sure you -write it down, so you'll not forget.” - -A few hours later the conductor came to Webster's stateroom and handed -him a card upon which was written: - -Dolores Ruey. From Los Angeles, via San Pedro, Los Angeles & Salt Lake, -to Salt Lake City, Denver & Rio Grande to Denver, Burlington to St. -Louis, Illinois Central to New Orleans. Stop-over at Denver. - -John Stuart Webster studied the name after the conductor withdrew. -“That's a Spanish name,” he soliloquized, “but for all that, she's not a -parakeet. There's something Gaelic about her features, particularly her -eyes. They're brown, with golden flecks in them, and if she had a drop -of dark blood in her, they'd be smoky and languid. Also if she were a -Latin she would have referred to my black eye--whereas she referred -to, a red eye with blue trimmings! Same thing but different! All things -considered, I guess I'll take a chance and investigate.” - - - - -CHAPTER III - - -|WEBSTER'S dreams of bliss had, with very slight variation, come true as -per schedule. - -In Salt Lake City he abandoned the beefsteak on his damaged eye for two -businesslike leeches, which quickly reduced the nocturne effect around -his orb, enabling him, the third day, to saunter forth among his -fellowmen. By the end of the week he was a being reincarnated, and so he -packed a huge new wardrobe-trunk with his latest purchases and journeyed -on to Denver. Coincident with his arrival there, we again take up the -thread of our story. - -One hour after his trunk arrived the gentleman from Death Valley might -have been observed standing before a cheval glass looking long and -earnestly at the reflection of his middle-aged person, the while he -marked the fit of his new raiment. - -Let us describe these habiliments, alleging as an excuse for dwelling -with emphasis upon the subject the fact that John Stuart Webster was all -dressed up for the first time in three long, labour-ridden years, and -was tremendously glad of it. Hark to this inventory. There were the -silken hose and underwear next his well-scrubbed skin; then there was -the white pleated linen shirt--a shirt so expensive and exquisite that -Mr. Webster longed to go somewhere and shoot a game of billiards, in -order that thus he might have an excuse to remove his coat and exhibit -that shirt to the gaze of the multitude. His collar irked him slightly, -but he had been assured by the clerk who sold it to him “that it was -strictly in vogue.” His gray silk Ascot tie was held in a graceful puff -by a scarfpin with a head of perfect crystal prettily shot with virgin -gold; his black afternoon coat enveloped his wide shoulders and flanked -his powerful neck with the perfection of the epidermis on a goose in the -pink of condition; his gray striped trousers broke exactly right over -his new “patent leather” shoes. The _tout ensemble_, as the gentleman -himself might have expressed it had he possessed a working knowledge of -French (which he did not), was perfect. - -He “shot” his cuffs and strutted backward and forward, striving to -observe his spinal column over his right shoulder, for he was in -a transport of delight as truly juvenile as that on the -never-to-be-forgotten day when he had attained to the dignity of his -first pair of long trousers. He observed to himself that it was truly -remarkable, the metamorphosis nine tailors and a talkative barber can -make in an old sour-dough. - -Presently, convinced that he was the glass of fashion and the mould of -form, Mr. Webster took up a smart lancewood stick and a pair of new -gray suede gloves and descended to the lobby of Denver's most exclusive -hotel. He paused at the cigar stand long enough to fill his case with -three-for-a-half perfectos and permit the young woman in charge to feast -her world-weary eyes on his radiant person (which she did, classifying -and tabulating him instantly as a millionaire mining man from Nevada). -After this he lighted a cigar and stepped forth into Seventeenth Street, -along which he strolled until he came to a certain building into the -elevator of which he entered and was whisked to the twelfth floor, where -he alighted and found himself before a wide portal which bore in gold -letters the words: Engineers' Club. - -The Engineers' Club was the closest approach to a home that John Stuart -Webster had known for twenty years, and so he paused just within the -entrance to perform the time-honoured ceremonial of home-coming. Over -the arched doorway leading to the lounge hung a large bronze gong such -as is used in mines, and from the lever of the gong-clapper depended a -cord which Webster seized and jerked thrice--thus striking the signal -known to all of the mining fraternity--the signal to hoist! Only those -members who had been sojourning in distant parts six months or more were -privileged thus to disturb the peace and dignity of the Engineers' -Club, the same privilege, by the way, carrying with it the obligation of -paying for the materials shortly to be hoisted! - -Having announced the return of a prodigal, our hero stepped to the door -of the lounge and shouted: - -“John Stuart Webster, E. M.” - -The room was empty. Not a single member was present to greet the -wanderer and accept of his invitation! - -“Home was never like this when I was a boy,” he complained to the -servant at the telephone exchange. “Times must be pretty good in the -mining game in Colorado when everybody has a job that keeps him out of -Denver.” - -The servant rose and essayed a raid on his hat and stick, but Mr. -Webster, who was impatient at thus finding himself amidst old scenes, -fended him away and said “Shoo fly!” Then he crossed the empty lounge -and ascended the stairs leading to the card room, at the entrance of -which he paused, leaning on his stick--in unconscious imitation of a -Sicilian gentleman posing for his photograph after his first payday in -America--swept that room with a wistful eye and sighed because nothing -had changed in three long years. - -Save for the slight job of kalsomining which Father Time had done on the -edges of the close-cropped Websterian moustache, the returned prodigal -might have stepped out of the Club but yesterday. He would not have -taken the short end of a modest bet that even a fresh log had been -placed on the fire or that the domino-players over against the wall had -won or lost a drink or two and then resumed playing--although perchance -there _were_ a few more gray hairs in the thickly thatched head of old -Neddy Jerome, sitting in his favourite seat by the window and turning -the cards in his eternal game of solitaire, in blissful ignorance that -John Stuart Webster stood within the portals of home and awaited the -fatted calf. - -“I'll hypnotize the old pelican into looking up,” Webster soliloquized, -and forthwith bent a beetling gaze upon the player. For as many as five -seconds he strove to demonstrate the superiority of mind over solitaire; -then, despairing of success, he struck the upholstery of an adjacent -chair a terrific blow with his stick--the effect of which was to cause -everybody in the room to start and to conceal Mr. Webster momentarily in -a cloud of dust, the while in a bellowing baritone he sang: - - His father was a hard-rock miner; - - He comes from my home town---- - -“Jack Webster! The devil's own kin!” shouted Neddy Jerome. He swept -the cards into a heap and waddled across the room to meet this latest -assailant of the peace and dignity of the Engineers' Club. “You old, -worthless, ornery, no-good son of a lizard! I've never been so glad to -see a man that didn't owe me money.” He seized Webster's hand in both -of his and wrung it affectionately. “Jack,” he continued, “I've been -combing the whole civilized world for you, for a month, at least. Where -the devil _have_ you been?” - -John Stuart Webster beamed happily upon his friend. “Well, Neddy, you -old stocking-knitter,” he replied quizzically, “since that is the case, -I'm not surprised at your failure to find me. You've known me long -enough to have remembered to confine your search to the _uncivilized_ -reaches.” - -“Well, you're here, at any rate, and I'm happy. Now you'll settle down.” - -“Hardly, Neddy. I'm young yet, you know--only forty. Still a real -live man and not quite ready to degenerate into a card-playing, -eat-drink-and-be-merry, die-of-inanition, sink-to-oblivion, and -go-to-hell fireplace spirit!” And he prodded Jerome in the short ribs -with a tentative thumb that caused the old man to wince. He turned -to greet the halfdozen card-players who had looked up at his noisy -entrance--deciding that since they were strangers to him they were -mere half-baked young whelps but lately graduated from some school of -mines--and permitted his friend to drag him downstairs to the deserted -lounge, where Jerome paused in the middle of the room and renewed his -query: - -“Johnny, where have you been?” - -“Lead me to a seat, O thou of little manners,” Webster retorted. “Here, -boy! Remove my property and guard it well. I will stay and disport -myself.” And he suffered himself to be dispossessed of his hat, gloves, -and stick. “It used to be the custom here,” he resumed, addressing -Jerome, “that when one of the Old Guard returned, he was obliged to ask -his friends to indicate their poison----” - -“Where have you been, I ask?” - -“Out in Death Valley, California, trying to pry loose a fortune.” - -“Did you pry it?” - -John Stuart Webster arched his eyebrows in mock reproach. “And you can -see my new suit, Neddy, my sixteen-dollar, made-to-order shoes, and -my horny hoofs encased in silken hose--and ask that question? Freshly -shaved and ironed and almost afraid to sit down and get wrinkles in -my trousers! Smell that!” He blew a cloud of cigar smoke into Jerome's -smiling face. The latter sniffed. “It smells expensive,” he replied. - -“Yes, and you can bet it tastes expensive, too,” Webster answered, -handing his cigar-case to his friend--who helped himself and said: - -“So you've made your pile, eh, Jack?” - -“Do you suppose I would have come back to Colorado without money? -Haven't you lived long enough, Neddy, to realize that when a man has -money he never knows where to go to spend it? It's so blamed hard to -make up one's mind, with all the world to choose from, and so the only -place I could think of was the old Engineers' Club in Denver. There, -at least, I knew I would find one man of my acquaintance--an old -granny named Neddy Jerome. Yes, Neddy, I knew I would find you playing -solitaire, with your old heart beating about seven times an hour, your -feet good and warm, and a touch of misery around your liver from lack of -exercise.” - -Jerome bit the end of his cigar and spat derisively. “How much have you -made?” he demanded bluntly, “It's none of your business, but I'll tell -you because I love you, Neddy. I've made one hundred thousand dollars.” - -“Chicken-feed,” Jerome retorted. - -Webster glanced around. “I thought at first nothing had changed in the -old place,” he said, “but I see I was mistaken.” - -“Why, what's wrong, Jack?” - -“Why, when I was here before, they used to ask a man if he had a -mouth--and now they ask him how much money he's made, where he made it, -and--why, hello, Mose, you black old scoundrel, how do you do? Glad to -see you. Take the order, Mose: some milk and vichy for Mr. Jerome, and -a----” - -“Yassuh, yassuh,” Mose interrupted, “an' a Stinger for you, suh.” - -“Gone but not forgotten,” breathed Mr. Webster, and walled his eyes -piously after the fashion of one about to say grace before a meal. “How -sweet a thing is life with a club servant like old black Mose, who does -things without an order. I feel at home--at last.” - -“Johnny,” Jerome began again, “I've been combing the mineral belt of -North and South America for you for a month.” - -“Why this sudden belated interest in me?” - -“I have a fine job for you, John----” - -“King's X,” Webster interrupted, and showed both hands with the fingers -crossed. “No plotting against my peace and comfort, Neddy. Haven't I -told you I'm all dressed up for the first time in three years, that I -have money in my pocket and more in bank? Man, I'm going to tread the -primrose path for a year before I get back into the harness again.” - -Jerome waved a deprecatory hand, figuratively brushing aside such feeble -and inconsequential argument. “Are you foot-loose?” he demanded. - -“I'm not. I'm bound in golden chains----” - -“Married, eh? Great Scott, I might have guessed it. So you're on your -honeymoon, eh?” - -“No such luck, you vichy-drinking iconoclast. If you had ever gotten far -enough from this club during the past fifteen years to get a breath of -real fresh air, you'd understand why I want to enjoy civilization for -a week or two before I go back to a mine superintendent's cabin on some -bleak hill. No, sir-ee. Old Jeremiah Q. Work and I have had a falling -out. I'm going on to New York and attend the opera, see all the good -plays, mush around through the Metropolitan Museum of Art, drink tea, -and learn to tango.” Webster sighed gustily. “Lord, Neddy, how I long -for the fleshpots. I've slept under the desert stars so long I want -electric signs for a change. Bacon and beans and sour dough are -wonderful when one hasn't something better, but I crave an omelette -soufflé drenched in cognac, and the cognac afire. Yes, and I want an -obsequious waiter to hurry in with it and then take a dollar tip from me -afterward for all the world like he was doing me a favour by accepting -it. Dad burn your picture, Neddy, I want some class! I've been listening -to a dago shift-boss playing the accordeon for three years--and he could -only play three tunes. Now I want Sousa's band. I want to hive up in a -swell hotel and leave a call for six o'clock--and then when they call -me, I want to curse them, roll over, and go to sleep again. I've been -bathing in tepid, dirty water in a redwood sluice-box, and now I desire -a steam room and a needle shower and an osteopath. I've been bossing -Greasers and Italians and was forced to learn their language to get -results, and now I want to speak my mother tongue to my old friends. The -last funny story I heard had whiskers on it when Rameses was playing -hop-scotch in Memphis, Egypt, and by thunder I'm going to have a new -deal all around.” - -“Very well, Jack. Don't excite yourself. I'll give you exactly thirty -days to sicken of it all--and then I shall come and claim my property.” - -“Neddy, I'll not work for you.” - -“Oh, yes, you will, John.” - -“No, sir, I'm mad. I won't play.” - -“You're it. I just tagged you.” - -“I require a rest--but unfold your proposition, Neddy. I was born a -poor, weak vessel consumed with a curiosity that was ever my undoing. I -can only protest that this is no way to treat a friend.” - -“Nonsense! My own brother wants this job, and I have refused to give it -to him. Business is business--and I've saved it for you.” - -Jerome leaned forward and laid his finger confidentially on Webster's -knee; whereat the lighthearted wanderer carefully lifted the finger, -brushed an imaginary speck of dirt from it, and set it down again. “Be -serious, you ingrate,” Jerome protested. ''Listen! I've been working -for two years on a consolidation up near Telluride, and I've just put it -across. Jack, it's the biggest thing in the country---- - -Webster closed his eyes and crooned: - - “I'm dying for some one to love me; - - I'm tired of living alone; - - I want to be somebody's darling, - - To be queen upon somebody's throne.” - -“Well, you'll be king on the throne of the Colorado Consolidated Mines -Company, Limited. English capital, Jack. Pay 'em 6 per cent, and they'll -call you blessed. There's twenty-five thousand a year in it, with a -house and a good cook and an automobile and a chauffeur, and you -can come to town whenever you please, provided you don't neglect the -company's interests--and I know you're not that kind of an engineer.” - -“Do I have to put some money into it, Neddy?” - -“Not necessarily, although I should advise it. I can let you in on -the ground floor for that hundred thousand of yours, guarantee you a -handsome profit and in all probability a big clean-up.” - -“I feel myself slipping, Neddy. Nevertheless, the tail goes with -the hide. I'm not in the habit of asking my friends to guarantee my -investments, and if you say it's all right, I'll spread what I have left -of the hundred thousand when I report for duty. What's the news around -this mortuary, anyhow? Who's dead and who's alive?” - -“It's been a tremendous job getting this consolidation over, Jack. -When----” - -“In pity's name! Spare me. I've heard all I want to hear about your -confounded consolidation. News! News! Give me news! I had to beg for a -drink----” - -“I might remind you that your manners have not improved with age, Jack -Webster. You haven't thanked me for that job.” - -“No--nor shall I. Mose, you black sinner, how dare you appear before me -again without that stinger?” - -Mose, the aged coloured porter of the Engineers' Club, flashed a row of -ivories and respectfully re-turned the democratic greeting. - -“Letter for you, suh. The secretary told me to give it to you, Mistah -Webster.” - -“Thank you, Mose. Speak up, Neddy, and tell me something. Ever hear -anything of Billy Geary?” He was tearing the edge of the envelope the -while he gazed at Jerome, who was rubbing his fat hands together after -the fashion of elderly men who are well pleased with themselves. - -“You have a chance to become one of the greatest and richest mining -engineers in the world, Jack,” he answered, “now that you've cut loose -from that young crook Geary. I don't know what's become of him, and -neither does anybody else. For that matter, nobody cares.” - -“I do--and you can take the brief end of that bet for your last white -chip. Don't let me hear you or anybody else say anything against Billy -Geary. That boy goes for my money, every turn in the box. Don't make any -mistakes about that, old-timer.” - -Webster's face suddenly was serious; the bantering intonation in his -voice was gone, and a new, slightly strident note had crept into it. But -Jerome, engrossed in his own affairs, failed to observe the menace -in that swift transition of mood in his companion. He waved his hand -soothingly. - -“All right, old Johnny Pepper-box, have it your own way. Nevertheless, -I'm a little mystified. The last I knew of you two, you had testified -against him in the high-grader trials at Cripple Creek, and he had -pulled out under a cloud, even after his acquittal.” - -“Give a dog a bad name, and it will stick to him,” Webster retorted. -“Of course I testified against him. As engineer for the Mine Owners' -Association, I had to. The high-grade ore was found in his assay office, -and the circumstantial evidence was complete, and I admit Billy was -acquitted merely because I and others could not swear positively that -the ore came from any certain mine. It was the same old story, Neddy. -It's become history in all mining camps. You can be morally certain that -high-grade ore has been stolen from your mine, but unless you catch -the ore thief in the act, how can you prove it? High-grade ore is blind -goods and is not confined to any certain man-owned spot on this wicked -earth--so there you are! I suppose you read the newspaper reports and -believed them, just as everybody else does.” - -“Well, forget it, Jack. It's all over long ago, and forgotten.” - -“It wasn't all over so long ago as you seem to think. I suppose you knew -the Holman gang was afterward sent to the penitentiary for those same -high-grade operations?” - -“Yes.” - -“But I'll bet my new plug hat you never knew I was the _Hawkshaw_ that -sent them there! You bet I was! Billy Geary's acquittal didn't end my -interest in the case--not by a jugful! I fought the case against the -friends of the Holman crew _among the mine owners themselves_; and -it cost me my good job, my prestige as a mining engineer, and thirty -thousand dollars of money that I'd slaved to get together. They squeezed -me, Neddy--squeezed me hard like a lemon, and threw me away, but I got -them! I should tell a man! Of course you never knew this, Neddy, and -for that matter, neither does Geary. I wish he did. We were good friends -once. I certainly was mighty fond of that boy.” - -He drew the letter from the envelope and slowly opened it, his mind not -upon the letter, but upon Billy Geary. - -“And you never heard what became of Geary?” - -“Not a word. I was too busy wondering what was to become of me. I -couldn't get a job anywhere in Colorado, and I moved to Nevada. Made a -million in Goldfield, dropped it in the panic of 1907, and had to start -again----” - -“What have you been doing lately?” - -“Borax. Staked a group of claims down in Death Valley. Bully ground, -Neddy, and I was busted when I located them. Had to borrow money to -pay the filing fees and incorporation, and did my own assessment work. -Look!” Webster held up his hands, still somewhat grimy and calloused. - -“How did you get by with your bluff?” - -“In the only way anybody ever got by on no pair. I was a brave dog -and went around with an erect tail, talking in millions and buying my -tobacco on jawbone. The Borax Trust knew I was busted, but they never -could quite get over the fear that I'd dig up some blacking and give -them a run--so they bought me out. Two weeks ago I got a belated -telegram, telling me there was a hundred thousand dollars in escrow -against deeds and certificate of title in a Salt Lake City bank--so here -I am.” - -“Somebody told me Geary had gone to Rhodesia,” Jerome continued -musingly, “or maybe it was Capetown. I know he was seen somewhere in -South Africa.” - -“He left the Creek immediately after the conclusion of his trial. Poor -boy! That dirty business destroyed the lad and made a tramp of him, -I guess. I tell you, Neddy, no two men ever lived who came nearer to -loving each other than Billy Geary and his old Jack-pardner. We bucked -the marts of men and went to sleep together hungry many a time during -our five-year partnership. Why, Bill was like my own boy! Do you know, -Neddy, now that I've rounded the forty-pole, I get thinking sometimes, -and wish I could have married when I was about twenty years old; I might -have had a son to knock around with now, while I'm still in the shank of -my own youth. And if I had been blessed with a son, I would have wanted -him to be just like Billy. You know, Bill tied onto me when he was about -eighteen. He's rising twenty-six now. He came to me at the Bonnie Claire -mine fresh from high school, and I staked him to a drill; but he didn't -stick there long. I saw he was too good a boy to be a mucker all his -days.” - -Webster smiled reminiscently and went on: “I'll never forget the day -Billy challenged a big Cornish shift-boss that called him out of his -name. The Cousin Jack could fight, too, but Billy walked around him like -a cooper around a barrel, and when he finished, I fired the Cousin Jack -and gave Billy his job!” - -He chuckled softly at the remembrance. “Too bad!” he continued. “That -boy had brains and grit and honour, and he shouldn't have held that -trial against me. But Billy was young, I suppose, and he just couldn't -understand my position. It takes the hard old years to impart common -sense to a man, and I suppose Billy couldn't understand why I had to be -true to my salt. He should have known I hadn't a leg to stand on when -I took the stand for the prosecution--not a scintilla of evidence to -present, except that the high-grade had been found in his assay office. -Jerome, I curse the day I took that boy out from underground and put -him in the Bonnie Claire assay office to learn the business. How could I -know that the Holman gang had cached the stuff in his shack?” - -“Well, it's too bad,” Jerome answered dully. He was quite willing that -the subject of conversation should be changed. “I'm glad to get the -right dope on the boy, anyhow. We might be able to hand him a good job -to make up for the injustice. Have another drink?” - -“Not until I read this letter. Now, who the dickens knew I was headed -for Denver and the Engineers' Club? I didn't tell a soul, and I only -arrived this morning.” - -He turned to the last page to ascertain the identity of his -correspondent, and his facial expression ran the gamut from surprise to -a joy that was good to see. - -It was a long letter, and John Stuart Webster read it deliberately. -When he had read it once, he reread it; after which he sat in silent -contemplation of the design of the carpet for fully a minute before -reaching for the bell. A servant responded immediately. - -“Bring me the time-tables of all roads leading to New Orleans,” he -ordered, “--also a cable blank.” - -Webster had reread the letter before the servant returned with the -time-tables. He glanced through them. “Henry,” he announced, “your name -is Henry, isn't it?” - -“No, sir--George, sir.” - -“Well, August, you go out to the desk, like a good fellow, and ask the -secretary to arrange for a compartment for me to New Orleans on the Gulf -States Limited, leaving at ten o'clock to-morrow night.” He handed the -servant his card. “Now wait a minute until I write something.” He seized -the cable blank, helped himself, uninvited, to Neddy Jerome's fountain -pen, and wrote: - -William H. Geary, - -Calle de Concordia No. 19, - -Buenaventura, - -Sobrante, C. A. - -Salute, you young jackass! Just received your letter. Cabling thousand -for emergency roll first thing to-morrow. Will order machinery. Leaving -for New Orleans to-morrow night, to arrive Buenaventura first steamer. -Your letter caught me with a hundred thousand. We cut it two ways and -take our chances. Keep a light in the window for your old Jack Pardner. - -“That's a windy cablegram,” Neddy Jerome remarked as the servant bore it -away. “Why all this garrulity? A cablegram anywhere generally costs at -least a dollar a word.” - -“'That's my delight of a shiny night, in the season of the year,'” - quoted John Stuart Webster; “and why the devil economize when the boy -needs cheering up?” - -“What boy?” - -“Billy Geary.” - -“Broke?” - -“I should say so. Rattles when he walks.” - -“Where is he?” - -“Central America.” - -Neddy Jerome was happy. He was in an expansive mood, for he had, with -the assistance of a kindly fate, rounded up the one engineer in all the -world whom he needed to take charge of the Colorado Consolidated. So he -said: - -“Well, Jack, just to celebrate the discovery of your old pal, I'll tell -you what I'll do. I'll O. K. your voucher for the expense of bringing -young Geary back to the U. S. A., and when we get him here, it will be -up to you to find a snug berth for him with Colorado Consolidated.” - -“Neddy,” said John Stuart Webster, “by my hali-dom, I love thee. You're -a thoughtful, kindly old stick-in-the-mud, but----” - -“No _ifs_ or _but's_. I'm your boss,” Jerome interrupted, and waddled -away to telephone the head waiter at his favourite restaurant to reserve -a table for two. - -Mr. Webster sighed. He disliked exceedingly to disappoint old Neddy, -but---- He shrank from seeming to think over-well of himself by -declining a twenty-five-thousand-dollar-a-year job with the biggest -mining company in Colorado, but---- - -“Rotten luck,” he soliloquized. “It runs that way for a while, and then -it changes, and gets worse!” - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -|WHEN Jerome returned to his seat, the serious look in Webster's -hitherto laughing eyes challenged his immediate attention. “Now what's -gone and broken loose?” he demanded. - -“Neddy,” said John Stuart Webster gently, “do you remember my crossing -my fingers and saying, 'King's X' when you came at me with that -proposition of yours?” - -“Yes. But I noticed you uncrossed them mighty quick when I told you the -details of the job. You'll never be offered another like it.” - -“I know, Neddy, I know. It just breaks my heart to have to decline it, -but the fact of the matter is, I think you'd better give that job to -your brother after all. At any rate, I'm not going to take it.” - -“Why?” the amazed Jerome demanded. “Johnny, you're crazy in the head. Of -course you'll take it.” - -For answer Webster handed his friend the letter he had just received. - -“Read that, old horse, and see if you can't work up a circulation,” he -suggested. - -Jerome adjusted his spectacles and read: - -Calle de Concordia 19, Buenaventura, - -Sobrante, C. A. - -Dear John: - -I would address you as “dear friend John,” did I but possess sufficient -courage. In my heart of hearts you are still that, but after three years -of silence, due to my stupidity and hardness of heart, it is, perhaps, -better to make haste slowly. - -To begin, I should like to be forgiven, on the broad general grounds -that I am most almighty sorry for what I went and done! Am I forgiven? -I seem to see your friendly old face and hear you answer “Aye,” and with -this load off my chest at last I believe I feel better already. - -I did not know until very recently what had become of you, and that that -wretched Cripple Creek business had been cleared up at last. I met -a steam-shovel man a month or two ago on the Canal. He used to be a -machine-man in the Portland mine, and he told me the whole story. - -Jack, you poor, deluded old piece of white meat, do you think for a -moment that I held against you your testimony for the operators in -Cripple Creek? You will never know how badly it broke me up when that -Canal digger sprung his story of how you went the limit for my measly -reputation after I had quit the company in disgrace. Still, it was not -that which hurt me particularly. I thought you believed the charges and -that you testified in a firm belief that I was the guilty man, as all of -the circumstantial evidence seemed to indicate. I thought this for three -long, meagre years, old friend, and I'm sorry. After that, I suppose -there isn't any need for me to say more, except that you are an old -fool for not saying you were going to spend your money and your time -and reputation trying to put my halo back on straight! I doubt if I was -worth it, and you knew that; but let it pass, for we have other fish to -fry. - -The nubbin of the matter is this: There is only one good gold mine left -in this weary world--and I have it. It's the sweetest wildcat lever -struck, and we stand the finest show in the world of starving to death if -we tackle it without sufficient capital to go through. (You will notice -that I am already--and unconsciously--employing the plural pronoun. How -rapidly the old habits return with the old friendships rehabilitated!) -It will take at least thirty thousand dollars, and we ought to have -double that to play safe. I do not know whether you have, or can raise, -sixty cents, but at any rate I am going to put the buck up to you and -you can take a look. - -Here are the specifications. Read them carefully and then see if there -is anybody in the U. S. A. whom you can interest to the tune mentioned -above. We could probably get by with thirty thousand, but I would not -jeopardize anybody's money by tackling it with less. - -Jack, I have a mining concession. It is low-grade--a free-milling gold -vein--twelve feet of ore between good solid walls on a contact between -Andesite and Silurian limestone. The ore is oxidized, and we can -save ninety per cent, of the values on amalgamating plates without -concentrating or cyaniding machinery. I have had my own portable assay -outfit on the ground for a month, and you can take my opinion for -what it is worth when I assure you that this concession is a winner, -providing the money is forthcoming with which to handle it. - -This is a pretty fair country, Jack--if you survive long enough to get -used to it. At first you think it's Paradise; then you grow to hate it -and know it for hell with the lid off; and finally all your early love -for it returns and you become what I am now--a tropical tramp! There -is only one social stratum lower than mine, and that's the tropical -beachcomber. I am not that--yet; and will not be if my landlady will -continue to listen to my blandishments. She is a sweet soul, with a -divine disposition, and I am duly grateful. - -I would tell you all about the geography, topography, flora and fauna -of Sobrante, but you can ascertain that in detail by consulting any -standard encyclopedia. Governmentally the country is similar to its -sister republics. The poor we have always with us; also a first-class, -colorado-maduro despot in the political saddle, and it's a cold day -indeed when two patriots, two viva's and a couple of old Long Tom -Springfield rifles cannot upset the Sobrante apple cart. We have the -usual Governmental extravagance in the matter of statues to countless -departed “liberators” in all the public squares, and money is no -object. It is depreciated shin-plasters, and I had to use a discarded -sugar-barrel to hold mine when I arrived and changed four hundred pesos -oro into the national currency. If a waiter brings you a jolt of hooch, -you're stingy if you tip him less than a Sobrante dollar. - -We have a Malicon along the bay shore and back again, with a municipal -bandstand in the middle thereof, upon which the fine city band of -Buenaventura plays nightly those languid Spanish melodies that must have -descended to us from the Inquisition. If you can spare the cash, send -me a bale of the latest New York rags and a banjo, and I'll start -something. I have nothing else to do until I hear from you, save shake -dice at The Frenchman's with the Présidente, who has nothing else to do -except lap up highballs and wait for the next drawing of the lottery. -I asked him for a job to tide me over temporarily, and he offered me a -portfolia! I could have been Minister of Finance! - -I declined, from a constitutional inability, inherent in the Irish, to -assimilate a joke from a member of an inferior race. - -We haven't had a revolution for nearly six months, but we have hopes. - -There are some white men here, neither better nor worse. We tolerate -each other. - -I am addressing you at the Engineers' Club, in the hope that my letter -may reach you there, or perhaps the secretary will know your address and -forward it to you. If you are foot-loose and still entertain a lingering -regard for your old pal, get busy on this mining concession P. D. Q. -Time is the essence of the contract, because I am holding on to the thin -edge of nothing, and if we have a change of government I may lose even -that. I need you, John Stuart Webster, worse than I need salvation. I -enclose you a list of equipment required. - -If you receive this letter and can do anything for me, please cable. If -you cannot, please cable anyway. It is needless for me to state that -the terms of division are as you make them, although I think fifty-fifty -would place us both on Easy Street for the rest of our days. Do let me -hear from you, Jack, if only to tell me the old _entente cordiale_ still -exists. I know now that I was considerable of a heedless pup a few years -ago and overlooked my hand quite regularly, but now that I have a good -thing I do not know of anybody with whom I care to share it except your -own genial self. Please let me hear from you. - -Affectionately, - -Billy. - -Jerome finished reading this remarkable communication; then with -infinite amusement he regarded John Stuart Webster over the tops of his -glasses as one who examines a new and interesting species of bug. - -“So Billy loves that dear Sobrante, eh?” he said with abysmal sarcasm. -“Jack Webster, listen to a sane man and be guided accordingly. I was in -this same little Buenaventura once. I was there for three days, and I -wouldn't have been there three minutes if I could have caught a steamer -out sooner. Of all the miserable, squalid, worthless, ornery, stinking -holes on the face of God's green footstool, Sobrante is the worst--if -one may judge it by its capital city. Jack, there is an old bromide that -describes aptly the republic of Sobrante, and it's so trite I hesitate -to repeat it--but I will, for your benefit. Sobrante is a country where -the flowers are without fragrance, the men without honour, and the -women without virtue. It is hot and unhealthy, and the mosquitoes wear -breechclouts; and when they bite you, you die. You get mail three times -a month, and there isn't a white man in the whole Roman-candle republic -that a gentleman would associate with.” - -“You forget Billy Geary,” Webster reminded him gently. - -“He's a boy. What does his judgment amount to? Are you going to chase -off to this God-forsaken fever-hole at the behest of a lad scarcely out -of his swaddling clothes? Jack Webster, surely you aren't going to throw -yourself away--give up the sure thing I offer you--to join Billy Geary -in Sobrante and finance a wildcat prospect without a certificate of -title attached. Why, Jack, my dear boy, don't you know that if -you develop your mine to-morrow and get it paying well, the first -'liberator' may take it away from you or tax you for the entire output?” - -“We'll have government protection, Neddy. This will be American capital, -and if they get fresh, our Uncle Sam can send a warship, can't he?” - -“He can--but he won't. Are you and Billy Geary of sufficient importance -at home or abroad to warrant the vast consumption of coal necessary to -send a battleship to protect your dubious prospect-hole? Be reasonable. -What did you wire that confounded boy?” - -“That I was coming.” - -“Cable him you've changed, your mind. We'll send him some money to come -home, and you can give him a good job under you. I'll O. K. the voucher -and charge it to your personal expense account.” - -“That's nice of you, old sport, and I thank you kindly. I'll talk to -Billy when I arrive in Buenaventura, and if the prospect doesn't look -good to me, I'll argue him out of it and we'll come home.” - -“But I want you now. I don't want you to go away.” - -“You promised me thirty days in which to have a good time----” - -“So I did. But is this having a good time? How about that omelette -soufflé all blazing with blue fire, and that shower-bath and the opera -and mushing through the art centres, and Sousa's band----” - -“They have a band down in Buenaventura. Billy says so.” - -“It plays 'La Paloma' and 'Sobre las Olas' and 'La Golondrina' and all -the rest of them. Jack, you'll go crazy listening to it.” - -“Oh, I don't want any omelette soufflé, and I had a bath before I left -the hotel. I was just hearing myself talk, Neddy,” the culprit protested -weakly. “Let me go. I might come back. But I must go. I want to see -Billy.” - -“You just said a minute ago you'd turned the forty-year post,” Jerome -warned him. “And you're now going to lose a year or two more in which -you might better be engaged laying up a foundation of independence -for your old age. You will get out of Sobrante with the price of a -second-class ticket on a vile fruit boat, and you'll be back here -panhandling around for a job at a quarter of what I am offering you. For -Heaven's sake, man, don't be a fool.” - -“Oh, but I will be a fool,” John Stuart Webster answered; and possibly, -by this time, the reader has begun to understand the potency of his -middle name--the Scotch are notoriously pig-headed, and Mr. Webster had -just enough oatmeal in his blood to have come by that centre-fire -name honestly. “And you, you poor old horse, you could not possibly -understand why, if you lived to be a million years old.” - -He got up from his chair to the full height of his six-feet-one, and -stretched one hundred and ninety pounds of bone and muscle. - -“And so I shall go to Sobrante and lose all of this all-important money, -shall I?” he jeered. “Then, by all the gods of the Open Country, I hope -I may! Old man, you have browsed through a heap of literature in your -day, but I doubt if it has done you any good. Permit me to map out a -course of reading for you. Get a copy of 'Paradise Lost' and another -of 'Cyrano de Bergerac.' In the former you will find a line running -somewhat thusly: 'What tho' the cause be lost, all is not lost!' And -in the immortal work of Monsieur Rostand, let me recommend one little -page--about fifteen lines. Read them, old money-grubber, and learn! On -second thought, do not read them. Those lines would only be wasted on -you, for you have become afflicted with hypertrophy of the acquisitive -sense, which thins the blood, dwarfs the understanding, stunts the -perception of relative values, and chills the feet.. - -“Let me foretell your future for the next twenty years, Neddy. You will -spend about forty per cent, of your time in this lounging-room, thirty -per cent, of it in piling up a bank-roll, out of which you will glean no -particular enjoyment, and the remaining thirty per cent, you will spend -in bed. And then some bright morning your heart-beat will slow down -almost imperceptibly, and the House Committee will order a wreath of -autumn leaves hung just above Number Four domino table, and it will -remain there until the next annual house-cleaning, when some swamper -'will say, 'What the devil is this stuff here for?' and forthwith he -will tear it down and consign it to the fireplace.” - -“Ba-a-li,” growled Jerome. - -“The truth hurts, I know,” Webster pursued relentlessly, “but hear me -to the bitter end. And then presently shall enter the club no less a -personage than young John Stuart Webster, even as he entered it to-day. -He will be smelling of country with the hair on, and he will glance -toward Table Number Four and murmur sympathetically: 'Poor old Jerome! -I knowed him good!' Did I hear you say 'Huh!' just then? I thank -thee for teaching me that word. Take careful note and see I use it -correctly--'_Huh!_' Dad burn you, Neddy, I'm not a Methuselah. I want -some fun in life. I want to fight and be broke and go hungry and then -make money for the love of making it and spending it, and I want to live -a long time yet. I have a constitutional weakness for foregathering with -real he-men, doing real he-things, and if I'm to be happy, I'll just -naturally have to be the he-est of the whole confounded pack! I want to -see the mirage across the sagebrush and hear it whisper: 'Hither, John -Stuart Webster! Hither, you fool, and I'll hornswaggle you again, as in -an elder day I horn,swaggled you before.'” - -Jerome shook his white thatch hopelessly. - -“I thought you were a great mining engineer, John,” he said sadly, “but -you're not. You're a poet. You do not seem to care for money.” - -“Well,” Webster retorted humorously, “it isn't exactly what you might -term a ruling passion. I like to make it, but there's more fun spending -it. I've made a hundred thousand dollars, and now I want to go blow -it--and I'm going to. Do not try to argue with me. I'm a lunatic and I -will have my way. If I didn't go tearing off to Sobrante and join forces -with Billy Geary, there to play the game, red or black, I'd feel as if I -had done something low and mean and small. The boy's appealed to me, and -I have made my answer. If I come back alive but broke, you know in your -heart you'll give me the best job you have.” - -“You win,” poor Jerome admitted. - -“Hold the job open thirty days. At the end of that period I'll give you -a definite answer, Neddy.” - -“There is no Balm in Gilead,” Jerome replied sadly. “Blessed are they -that expect nothing, for they shall not be disappointed.” - -“It's six-thirty,” Webster suggested. “Let's eat. Last call for that -omelette soufflé, and we'll go to a show afterward. By the way, Neddy, -how do you like this suit? Fellow in Salt Lake built it for me--ninety -bucks!” - -But Jerome was not interested in clothing and similar foolishness. He -only knew that he had lost the services of a mining engineer for whom he -had searched the country for a month. He rose, dusting the cigar ashes -from his vest, and followed sulkily. - -Despite the evidences of “grouch” which Jerome brought to the dinner -table with John Stuart Webster, he was not proof against the latter's -amazing vitality and boundless good spirits. The sheer weight of the -Websterian optimism and power of enjoying simple things swept all of -Jerome's annoyance from him as a brisk breeze dissipates the low-lying -fog that hides a pleasant valley, and ere the second cocktail had -made its appearance, the president of the Colorado Consolidated Mines -Company, Limited, was doing his best to help Webster enjoy this one -perfect night snatched from the grim processional of sunrise and sunset -that had passed since last he had dallied with the fleshpots--that were -to pass ere he should dally with them again according to his peculiar -nature and inclination. - -Lovingly, lingeringly, Mr. Webster picked his way through the _hors -d'ouvres_, declared against the soup as too filling, mixed the salad -after a recipe of his own, served it and consumed it prior to the advent -of the entrée, which if not the fashion in the West, at present, has not -as yet gone entirely out of fashion. He revelled in breast of pheasant, -with asparagus tips, and special baked potato; he thrilled with -champagne at twelve dollars the quart, and a tender light came into his -quizzical glance at sight of a brick of ice cream in four colours; he -cheered for the omelette soufflé. In the end he demanded a tiny cheese -fit for active service, cracked himself a peck of assorted nuts, and -with a pot of black coffee and the best cigars possible of purchase -in Denver, he leaned back at his ease and forgot the theatre in the -long-denied delight of yarning with his old friend. - -At one o'clock next morning they were still seated in the cosy grill, -smoking and talking. Jerome looked at his watch. - -“Great grief, Johnny!” he declared. “I must be trotting along. Haven't -been out this late in years.” - -“It's the shank of the evening, Neddy,” Webster pleaded, “and I'm hungry -again. We'll have a nice broiled lobster, with drawn butter--eh, Ned? -And another quart of that '98?” - -“My liver would never stand it. I'd be in bed for a week,” Jerome -protested. “See you at the club to-morrow afternoon before you leave, I -presume.” - -“If I get through with my shopping in time,” Webster answered, and -reluctantly abandoning the lobster and accessories, he accompanied -Jerome to the door and saw him safely into a taxicab. - -“Sure you won't think it over, Jack, and give up this crazy -proposition?” he pleaded at parting. - -Webster shook his head. “I sniff excitement and adventure and profit in -Sobrante, Neddy, and I've just got to go look-see. I'm like an old burro -staked out knee-deep in alfalfa just now. I won't take kindly to the -pack---” - -“And like an old burro, you won't be happy until you've sneaked through -a hole in the fence to get out into a stubble-field and starve.” Jerome -swore halfheartedly and promulgated the trite proverb that life is -just one blank thing after the other--an inchoate mass of liver and -disappointment! - -“Do you find it so?” Webster queried sympathetically. - -Suspecting that he was being twitted, Jerome looked up sharply, prepared -to wither Webster with that glance. But no, the man was absolutely -serious; whereupon Jerome realized the futility of further argument and -gave John Stuart Webster up for a total loss. Still, he could not -help smiling as he reflected how Webster had planned a year of quiet -enjoyment and Fate had granted him one brief evening. He marvelled that -Webster could be so light-hearted and contented under the circumstances. - -Webster read his thoughts. “Good-bye, old man,” he said, and extended -his hand. “Don't worry about me. Allah is always kind to fools, my -friend; sorrow is never their portion. I've led rather a humdrum life. -I've worked hard and never had any fun or excitement to speak of, and in -answering Billy's call I have a feeling that I am answering the call of -a great adventure.” - -He did not know how truly he spoke, of course, but if he had, that -knowledge would not have changed his answer. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -|THE morning following his decision to play the rôle of angel to Billy -Geary's mining concession in Sobrante, John Stuart Webster, like Mr. -Pepys, was up betimes. - -Nine o'clock found him in the office of his friend Joe Daingerfield, -of the Bingham Engineering Works, where, within the hour, he had in -his characteristically decisive fashion purchased the machinery for a -ten-stamp mill and an electric light plant capability of generating -two hundred and fifty horsepower two electric hoists with cable, half a -dozen steel ore buckets, as many more ore-cars with five hundred feet -of rail, a blacksmithing outfit, a pump, motors, sheet steel to line the -crushing-bins and form shovelling platforms for the ore in the workings, -picks, shovels drills, and so forth. It was a nice order and Dangerfield -fwas delighted. - -“This is going to cost you about half your fortune, Jack,” he informed -Webster when the order was finally made up. - -Webster grinned. “You don't suppose I'm chump enough to pay for it now, -do you, Joe?” he queried. - -“You'll pay at least half, my son. We love you, Jack; we honour and -respect you; but this stuff is going to Central America, and in the -event of your premature demise, we might not get it back. They have wars -down there, you know, and when those people are war-mad, they destroy -things.” - -“I know. But I'm going first to scout the country, Joe, and in the -meantime keep all this stuff in your warehouse until I authorize you by -cable to ship, when you can draw on me at sight for the entire invoice -with bill of lading attached. If, upon investigation, I find that this -mine isn't all my partner thinks it is, I'll cable a cancellation, and -you can tear that nice fat order up and forget it. I don't intend to -have you and that gang of penny-pinching card-room engineers up at the -Engineers' Club remind me of the old adage that a fool and his money are -soon parted.” - -From Daingerfield's office Webster went forth to purchase a -steamer-trunk, his railway ticket and sleeping-car reservation--after -which he returned to his hotel and set about packing for the journey. - -He sighed regretfully as he folded his brand-new raiment, packed it -in moth balls in his wardrobe-trunk, and ordered the trunk sent to a -storage warehouse. - -“Well, I was a giddy old bird of paradise for one night, at least,” he -comforted himself, as he dressed instead in a suit of light-weight olive -drab goods in which he hoped to enjoy some measure of cool comfort until -he should reach Buenaventura and thus become acquainted with the foibles -of fashion in that tropical centre. - -The remainder of the afternoon he spent among his old friends of the -Engineers' Club, who graciously tendered him a dollar table d'hote -dinner that evening and saw him off for his train at ten o'clock, -with many a gloomy prophecy as to his ultimate destiny--the prevailing -impression appearing to be that he would return to them in a neat long -box labelled: _This Side Up--With Care--Use No Hooks_. - -Old Neddy Jerome, as sour and cross as a setting hen,' accompanied him -in the taxicab to the station, loth to let him escape and pleading to -the last, in a forlorn hope that Jack Webster's better nature would -triumph over his friendship and boyish yearning for adventure. He clung -to Webster's arm as they walked slowly down the track and paused at -the steps of the car containing the wanderer's reservation, just as a -porter, carrying some hand-baggage, passed them by, followed by a girl -in a green tailor-made suit. As she passed, John Stuart Webster looked -fairly into her face, started as if bee-stung, and hastily lifted -his hat. The girl briefly returned his scrutiny with sudden interest, -decided she did not know him, and reproved him with a glance that even -passé old Neddy Jerome did not fail to assimilate. - -[Illustration:ustration: 0075] - -“Wow, wow!” he murmured. “The next time you try that, Johnny Webster, be -sure you're right----” - -“Good land o' Goshen, Neddy,” Webster replied. “Fry me in bread-crumbs, -if that isn't the same girl! Come to think of it, the conductor who gave -me her name told me her ticket called for a stop-over in Denver! Let me -go, Neddy. Quick! Good-bye, old chap. I'm on my way.” - -“Nonsense! The train doesn't pull out for seven minutes yet. Who is -she, John, and why does she excite you so?” Jerome recognized in -his whimsical friend the symptoms of a most unusual malady--with -Webster--and so he held the patient fast by the arm. - -“Who is she, you ancient horse-thief? Why, if I have my way--and I'm -certainly going to try to have it--she's the future Mrs. W.” - -“Alas! Poor Yorick, I knowed him well,” Jerome answered. “Take a tip -from the old man, John. I've been through the mill and I know. Never -marry a girl that can freeze you with a glance. It isn't safe, and -remember, you're not as young as you used to be. By the way, what's the -fair charmer's name?” - -“I've got it down in my memorandum book, but I can't recall it this -minute--Spanish name.” - -“John, my dear boy, be careful,” Neddy Jerome counseled. “Stick to your -own kind of people----” - -“I'll not. That girl is as trim and neat and beautiful as a newly minted -guinea. What do I want with a Scotch lassie six feet tall and a believer -in hell-fire and infant damnation?” - -“Is this--a--er--a nice girl, John?” - -“How do I know--I mean, how dare you ask? Of course she's nice. Can't -you see she is? And besides, why should you be so fearful----” - -“I'll have you understand, young man, that I have considerable interest -in the girl you're going to marry. Drat it, boy, if you marry the wrong -girl she may interfere with my plans. She may be a spoil-sport and -not want to live up at the mine--after you return from this wild-goose -chase, dragging your fool tail behind you. By the way, where did you -first meet this girl? Who introduced you?” - -“I haven't met her, and I've never been introduced,” Webster complained, -and poured forth the tale of his adventure on the train from Death -Valley. Neddy was very sympathetic. - -“Well, no wonder she didn't recognize you when you saluted her -to-night,” he agreed. “Thought you were another brute of a man trying -to make a mash. By thunder, Jack, I'm afraid you made a mistake when you -shed your whiskers and buried your old clothes. You don't look nearly so -picturesque and romantic now, and maybe she'll refuse to believe you're -the same man!” - -“I don't care what she thinks. I found her, I lost her, and I've found -her again; and I'm not going to take any further chances. I wired -a detective agency to pick her up in Salt Lake and trail her to New -Orleans and get me all the dope on her, while I was in temporary -retirement with my black eye. Brainless fellows, these amateur -detectives. I'll never employ one again. I described her -accurately--told them she was beautiful and that she was wearing a green -tailor-made suit; and will you believe me, Neddy, they reported to me -next day that their operative failed to pick her up at the station? He -said three beautiful women got off the train there, and that none of -them wore a green dress.” - -“Well, it's just barely possible she may have another dress,” Jerome -retorted slyly. “Women are funny that way. They change their dresses -about as often as they change their minds.” - -“Why, that's so,” Webster answered innocently. “I never thought of -that.” - -The porter, having delivered his charge's baggage in her section, was -returning for another tip. Webster reached out and accosted him. - -“Henry,” he said, “do you want to earn a dollar?” - -“Yes, sah. Yes indeed, sah.' - -“Where did you stow that young lady's hand-baggage?” - -“Lower Six, Car Nine, sah.” - -“I have a weakness for coloured boys who are quick at figures,” Webster -declared, and dismissed the porter with the gratuity. He turned -to Jerome. “Neddy, I feel that I am answering the call to a great -adventure,” he declared solemnly. - -“I know it, Jack. Good-bye, son, and God bless you. If your fit of -insanity passes within ninety days, cable me; and if you're broke, stick -the Colorado Con' for the cable tolls.” - -“Good old wagon!” Webster replied affectionately. Then he shook -hands and climbed aboard the train. The instant he disappeared in the -vestibule, however, Neddy Jerome waddled rapidly down the track to Car -Nine, climbed aboard, and made his way to Lower Six. The young lady in -the green tailor-made suit was there, looking idly out the window. - -“Young lady,” Jerome began, “may I presume to address you for a moment -on a matter of very great importance to you? Don't be afraid of me, my -dear. I'm old enough to be your father, and besides, I'm one of the -nicest old men you ever met.” - -She could not forbear a smile. “Very well, sir,” she replied. - -Neddy Jerome produced a pencil and card. “Please write your name on -this card,” he pleaded, “and I'll telegraph what I want to say to you. -There'll be a man coming through this car in a minute, and I don't want -him to see me here--besides which, the train leaves in half a minute, -and I live in Denver and make it a point to be home and in bed not later -than ten each night. Please trust me, young lady.” ^ - -The young lady did not trust him, however, although she wrote on the -card. Jerome thanked her and fled as fast as his fat old legs could -carry him. Under the station arc he read the card. - -“'Henrietta Wilkins,'” he murmured. “By the gods, one would never -suspect a name like that belonged to a face like that. I know that name -is going to jar Jack and cause him to seethe with ambition to change it. -He'll trim the _Henrietta_ down to plain _Retta_, and change _Wilkins to -Webster!_ By jingo, it _would_ be strange if that madman persuaded -her to marry him. I hope he does. If I'm any judge of character, Jack -Webster won't be cruel enough to chain that vision to Sobrante; and -besides, she's liable to make him decide who's most popular with -him--Henrietta or Billy Geary. If she does, I'll play Geary to lose. -However, if that confirmed old bachelor wants to chase rainbows, I might -as well help him out, since whichever way the cat jumps I can't lose. -It's to my interest to have him marry that girl, or any girl, for that -matter, because she'll have something to say about the advisability of -kicking aside what amounts, approximately, to thirty thousand a year, -in order to sink the family bankroll in a wildcat mine in the suburbs -of hell. Well! Needs must when the devil drives.” And he entered the -station telegraph office and commenced to write. - -An hour later Miss Dolores Ruey, alias Henrietta Wilkins, was handed -this remarkably verbose and truly candid telegram: - -Denver, Colo., Aug. 7, 1913. Miss Henrietta Wilkins, - -Lower 6, Car 9, - -On board train 24. - -Do you recall the bewhiskered, ragged individual you met on the S.P., -L.A. & S.L. train in Death Valley ten days ago? He thrashed a man who -annoyed you, but owing to a black eye and his generally unpresentable -appearance, he remained in his stateroom the remainder of the trip -and you did not see him again until to-night. He lifted his hat to you -to-night, and you almost killed him with a look. It did not occur to him -that you would not recognize him disguised as a gentleman, and he lifted -his hat on impulse. Do not hold it against him. The sight of you again -set his reason tottering on its throne, and he told me his sad story. - -This man, John Stuart Webster, is wealthy, single, forty, fine, and -crazy as a March hare. He is in love with you. - -You might do worse than fall in love with him. He is the best mining -engineer in the world, and he is now aboard the same train with you, -en route to New Orleans, thence to take the steamer to Buenaventura, -Sobrante, C. A., where he is to meet another lunatic and finance a hole -in the ground. He has just refused a thirty-thousand-dollar-a-year job -from me to answer the call of a mistaken friendship. I do not want him -to go to Sobrante. If you marry him, he will not. If you do not marry -him, you still might arrange to make him listen to reason. If you can -induce him to come to work for me within the next ninety days, whether -you marry him or not, I will give you five thousand dollars the day he -reports on the job. Please bear in mind that he does not know I am doing -this. If he did, he would kill me, but business is business, and this -is a plain business proposition. I am putting you wise, so you will know -your power and can exercise it if you care to earn the money. If -not, please forget about it. At any rate, please do me the favour to -communicate with me on the subject, if at all interested. - -Edward P. Jerome. - -President Colorado Consolidated Mines, Limited. - -Care Engineers' Club. - -The girl read and reread this telegram several times, and presently a -slow little smile commenced to creep around the corners of her adorable -mouth, for out of the chaos of emotions induced by Ned Jerome's amazing -proposition, the humour of the situation had detached itself to the -elimination of everything else. - -“I believe that amazing old gentleman is absolutely dependable,” was the -decision at which she ultimately arrived, and calling for a telegraph -blank, she wired the old schemer: - -Five thousand not enough money. Make it ten thousand and I will -guarantee to deliver the man within ninety days. I stay on this train to -New Orleans. - -Henrietta. - -That telegram arrived at the Engineers' Club about midnight, and -pursuant to instructions, the night barkeeper read it and phoned the -contents to Neddy Jerome, who promptly telephoned his reply to the -telegraph office, and then sat on the edge of his bed, scratching his -toes and meditating. - -“That's a remarkable young woman,” he decided, “and business to her -finger-tips. Like the majority of her sex, she's out for the dough. -Well, I've done my part, and it's now up to Jack Webster to protect -himself in the clinches and breakaways.” - -About daylight a black hand passed Neddy Jerome's reply through the -berth-curtains to Dolores Ruey. She read: - -Accept. When you deliver the goods, communicate with me and get your -money. - -Jerome. - -She snuggled back among the pillows and considered the various aspects -of this amazing contract which she had undertaken with a perfect -stranger. Hour after hour she lay there, thinking over this. - -As she passed, John Stuart Webster looked fairly into her face, v -started as if bee-stung, and hastily lifted his hat preposterous -situation, and the more she weighed it, the more interesting and -attractive the proposition appeared. But one consideration troubled her. -How would the unknown knight manage an introduction? Or, if he failed to -manage it, how was she to overcome that obstacle? - -“Oh, dear,” she murmured, “I do hope he's brave.” - -She need not have worried. Hours before, the object of her thought had -settled all that to his own complete satisfaction, and as a consequence -was sleeping peacefully and gaining strength for whatever of fortune, -good or ill, the morrow might bring forth. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -|DAY was dawning in Buenaventura, republic of Sobrante, as invariably it -dawns in the tropics--without extended preliminary symptoms. The soft, -silvery light of a full moon that had stayed out scandalously late had -merged imperceptibly into gray; the gray was swiftly yielding place to a -faint crimson that was spreading and deepening upward athwart the east. - -In the Calle Nueva a game cock, pride of an adoring family of Sobrante's -lower class, crowed defiance to a neighbouring bird. A dog barked. From -the patch of vivid green at the head of the Calle San Rosario a troupe -of howling monkeys raised a sun-up cheer that marked the finish of a -night of roystering; from wattled hut and adobe _casa_ brunette women -in red calico wrappers came forth, sleepy-eyed and dishevelled; -and presently from a thousand little adobe fireplaces in a thousand -backyards thin blue spirals of smoke mounted--incense to the household -gods of Sobrante--Tortilla and Frijoles. Brown men, black men, -lemon-tinted men, and white men whose fingernails showed blue instead -of white at the base, came to the doors of their respective habitations, -leaned against them, lighted post-breakfast cigarettes, and waited for -somebody to start something. - -To these indolent watchers of the dawn was vouchsafed presently the -sight of Senora Concepcion Josefina Morelos on her way to early mass at -the Catedral de la Vera Cruz. Men called to each other, when she passed, -that Senora Morelos shortly would seek, in a Carmelite convent, surcease -from the grief caused by the premature demise of her husband, General -Pablo Morelos, at the hands of a firing-squad in the _cuartel_ yard, -as a warning to others of similar kidney to forbear and cease to tamper -with the machinery of politics. And when Senora Morelos had passed, came -Alberto Guzman with two smart mules hitched to a dilapidated street-car; -came Don Juan Cafetéro, _peseta_-less, still slightly befuddled from -his potations of the night before, and raising the echoes in the _calle_ -with a song singularly alien to his surroundings: - - Green were the fields where my forefathers dwelt-- - - O, Erin, mavourneen, slan laght go bragh! - -At the theatre we sit patiently waiting for the stage electrician to -switch on the footlights and warn us that the drama is about to begin. -Let us, in a broader sense, appropriate that cue to mark the beginning -of the drama with which this story deals; instead of a stage, however, -we have the republic of Sobrante; in lieu of footlights we have the sun -popping up out of the Caribbean Sea. - -Those actors whose acquaintance we have so briefly made thus far must be -presumed to be supers crossing the stage and loitering thereon while the -curtain is down. Now, therefore, let us drive them into the wings while -the curtain rises on a tropical scene. - -In the _patio_ of Mother Jenks's establishment in the Çalle de -Concordia, No. 19, the first shafts of morning light were filtering -obliquely through the orange trees and creeping in under the deep, -Gothic-arched veranda flanking the western side of the _patio_, to -reveal a dusky maiden of more or less polyglot antecedents, asleep upon -a bright, parti-coloured blanket spread over a wicker couch. - -Presently, through the silent reaches of the Calle de Concordia, the -sound of a prodigious knocking and thumping echoed, as of some fretful -individual seeking admission at the street door of El Buen Amigo, by -which euphonious designation Mother Jenks's caravansary was known to the -public of Buenaventura. In the second story, front, a window slid back -and a woman's voice, husky with that huskiness that speaks so accusingly -of cigarettes and alcohol, demanded: - -“_Quien es?_ Who is it? _Que quiere usted?_ Wot do yer want?” - -“Ye might dispinse wit' that paraqueet conversation whin addhressin' the -likes av me,” a voice replied. “'Tis me--Cafferty. I have a cablegram -Leber give me to deliver----” - -“Gawd's truth! Would yer wake the 'ole 'ouse with yer'ammering?” - -“All right. I'll not say another worrd!” - -A minute passed; then the same husky voice, the owner of which had -evidently descended from her sleeping chamber above, spoke in a steadily -rising crescendo from a room just off the veranda: - -“Car-may-lee-ta-a-a!” - -We can serve no useful purpose by endeavouring to conceal from the -reader, even temporarily, the information that Carmelita was the -sleeping naiad on the couch; also that she continued to sleep, for hers -was that quality of slumber which is the heritage of dark blood and -defies any commotion short of that incident to a three-alarm fire. Three -times the husky voice addressed Carmelita with cumulative vehemence; but -Carmelita slept on, and presently the husky voice ceased to cry aloud -for her. Followed the sound of bare feet thudding across the floor. - -Forth from the house came Mother Jenks, a redfaced, coarse-jowled, -slightly bearded lady of undoubted years and indiscretion, in -curl-papers and nightgown, barefoot and carrying a bucket. One scornful -glance at the sleeping Carmelita, and mother Jenks crossed to the -fountain plashing in the centre of the _patio_, filled her bucket, -stepped to the veranda and dashed three gallons of tepid water into -Carme-lita's face. - -_That_ awakened Carmelita--Mother Jenks's raucous “Git up, yer bloody -wench! Out, yer 'ussy, an' cook _almuerzo_. Gawd strike me pink, if I -don't give yer the sack for this--an' sleepin' on my best new blenkit!” - being in the nature of a totally unnecessary exordium. - -Carmelita shrieked and fled, while Mother Jenks scuttled along in -pursuit like a belligerent old duck, the while she heaped opprobrium -upon Carmelita and all her tribe, the republic of Sobrante, its capital, -its government officials, and the cable company: Finally she disappeared -into El Buen Amigo with a hearty Cockney oath at her own lack of -foresight in ever permitting her sainted 'Enery to set foot on a foreign -shore. - -Once inside, Mother Jenks proceeded down a tiled hallway to the -_cantina_ of her hostelry and opened the street door a few inches. -Without the portal stood Don Juan Cafetéro, of whom a word or two before -proceeding. - -To begin, Don Juan Cafetéro was not his real name, but rather a free -Spanish translation of the Gaelic, John Cafferty. As would be indicated -by the song he was singing when first we made his acquaintance, coupled -with the unstable condition of his legs, Mr. Cafferty was an exile of -Erin with a horrible thirst. He had first arrived in Sobrante some five -years before, as section-boss in the employ of the little foreign-owned -narrow-gauge railway which ran from Buenaventura on the Caribbean coast -to San Miguel de Padua, up-country where the nitrate beds were located. -Prior to his advent the railroad people had tried many breeds of -section-boss without visible results, until a Chicago man, who had come -to Sobrante to install an intercommunicating telephone system in the -Government buildings, suggested to the superintendent of the road, -who was a German, that the men made for bosses come from Erin's isle; -wherefore Mr. Cafferty had been imported at a price of five dollars a -day gold. Result--a marked improvement in the road-bed and consequently -the train-schedules, and the ultimate loss of the Cafferty soul. - -Don Juan, with the perversity of the Celt, and contrary to precept and -example, forbore to curse Sobrante. On the contrary, he liked Sobrante -immediately upon arrival and so stated in public--this unusual state of -affairs doubtless being due to the fact that his job furnished much of -excitement and interest, for his driving tactics were not calculated to -imbue in his dusky section-hands a love for the new section-boss; and -from the day he took charge until he lost the job, the life of Don Juan -Cafetéro had been equivalent in intrinsic value to two squirts of swamp -water--possibly one. - -Something in the climate of Sobrante must have appealed to a touch of -_laissez faire_ in Don Juan's amiable nature, for in the course of time -he had taken unto himself, without bell or book, after the fashion of -the proletariat of Sobrante, the daughter of one Estebân Manuel Enrique -José Maria Pasqual y Miramontes, an estimable peon who was singularly -glad to have his daughter off his hands and no questions asked. -Following the fashion of the country, however, Esteban had forthwith -moved the remainder of his numerous progeny under the mantle of Don Juan -Cafetéro's philanthropy, and resigned a position which for many years he -had not enjoyed--to wit: salting and packing green hides at a local -_abattoir_. This foolhardy economic move had so incensed Don Juan that -in a fit of pique he spurned his father-in-law (we must call Esteban -something and so why split hairs?) under the tails of his _camisa_, with -such vigour as to sever forever the friendly relations hitherto existing -between the families. Mrs. Cafferty (again we transgress, but what of -it?) subsequently passed away in childbirth, and no sooner had she been -decently buried than Don Juan took a week off to drown his sorrows. - -In this condition he had encountered Esteban Manuel Enrique José Maria -Pasqual y Miramontes and called him out of his name--for which there -appears to be little excuse, in view of the many the latter possessed. -In the altercation that ensued Esteban, fully convinced that he had -received the nub end of the transaction from start to finish, cut Don -Juan severely in the region of the umbilicus; Don Juan had thereupon -slain Esteban with a.44-calibre revolver, and upon emerging from -the railroad hospital a month later had been tried by a Sobrantean -magistrate and fined the sum of twenty thousand dollars, legal tender of -the Republic of Sobrante. Of course he had paid it off within six months -from his wages as section-boss, but the memory of the injustice always -rankled in him, and gradually he moved down the scale of society from -section-boss to day labourer, day labourer to tropical tramp, and -tropical tramp to beach-comber, in which latter state he had now existed -for several months. - -While waiting to round out the brief period of existence which drink and -the devil had left him, this poor human fragment had become a protégé of -Ignatz Leber, an Alsatian, manager for a German importing and -exporting house, and agent for the cable company. By the grace of the -philanthropic Ignatz, Don Juan slept under Leber's warehouse and ate in -his kitchen. - -To return to Mother Jenks. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -|BEFORE Don Juan could even utter a matutinal greeting, Mother Jenks -laid finger to lip and silenced him. “Go back to Leber's and return in -an hour,” she whispered. “I 'ave my reasons for wantin' that bloomin' -cablegram delivered later.” - -Don Juan hadn't the least idea what Mother Jenks's reasons might be, but -he presumed she was up to some chicanery, and so he winked his bloodshot -eye very knowingly and nodded his acquiescence in the program; whereupon -Mother Jenks started to close the door. Instantly Don Juan's foot was in -the jamb; in a hoarse whisper he said: - -“Whilst ye're askin' favours, woman dear, ye might have the kindness to -ask me if I have a mouth.” - -“Bloomin' well I knows yer 'ave a mouth, for bloomin' well I smell yer -blawsted breath,” Mother Jenks retorted. However, the present was no -time to raise an issue with Don Juan, and so she slipped behind the bar -of her _cantina_, poured five fingers of _aguardiente_, the local brand -of disturbance, and handed it to Don Juan through the crack in the door. - -“Here's all the hair off your head,” Don Juan Cafetéro saluted her -amiably. He tossed it off at a gulp, handed Mother Jenks the glass, and -departed with a whispered promise to return in an hour. - -When he had gone, Mother Jenks went behind the bar and fortified herself -with her morning's morning--which rite having been performed, her -sleep-benumbed brain livened up immediately. - -“Gord's truth!” the lady murmured. “An' me about to turn him adrift for -the lawst fortnight! Well for 'im 'e allers hadmired the picture o' -my sainted 'Enery, as was the spittin' image of his own fawther. -'Evings! 'Ell's bells! But that was a bit of a tight squeak! Just as I'm -fully conwinced 'e's beat it an' I'm left 'oldin' the sack, all along o' -my kindness of 'eart, 'e gets the cablegram 'e's been lookin' for this -two months past; an' 'e allers claimed as 'ow any time'e got a cablegram -it'd be an answer to 'is letter, with money to foller! My word, but that -was touch an' go! An' yet Willie's got such a tykin' w'y about him, I -might 'ave knowed 'e was a gentleman!” - -Still congratulating herself upon her good fortune in intercepting Don -Juan Cafetéro, Mother Jenks proceeded upstairs to her chamber, clothed -herself, and adjourned to the kitchen, where Carmelita was already -engaged in the preparation of the morning meal. After giving orders -for an extra special breakfast for two, Mother Jenks returned to her -_cantina_, and formally opened the same for the business of that day -and night; while a lank Jamaica negro swept out the room and cleaned the -cuspidors, she washed and polished her glassware and set her back bar in -order. To her here came presently, via the tiled hallway, the object of -her solicitude, a young man on the sunny side of thirty. At the first -glance one suspected this individual to be a member of the Caucasian -race; at the second glance one verified this suspicion. He was thin -for one of his height and breadth of chest; in colour his countenance -resembled that of a sick Chinaman. His hair was thick and wavy but -lustreless; his dark blue eyes carried a hint of jaundice; and a -generous mouth, beneath an equally generous upper lip, gave ample ground -for the suspicion that while Mr. William Geary's speech denoted him an -American citizen, at least one of his maternal ancestors had been wooed -and won by an Irishman. An old panama hat, sad relic of a prosperous -past, a pair of soiled buckskin pumps, a suit of unbleached linen -equally befouled, and last but not least, the remnants of a smile that -much hard luck could never quite obliterate, completed his attire--and -to one a stranger in the tropics would appear to constitute a complete -inventory of Mr. Geary's possessions. An experienced person, however, -would have observed immediately that Mother Jenks's seedy guest had -been bitten deeply and often by mosquitoes and was, in consequence, the -proprietor of a low malarial fever, with its concomitant chills. - -“_Dulce corazon mio_, I extend a greeting,” he called at the entrance. -“I trust you rested well last night, Mother Jenks, and that no evil -dreams were born of your midnight repast of _frijoles refritos_, -marmalade, and arf-an'-arf!” - -“Chop yer spoofin', Willie,” Mother Jenks simpered. “My heye! So I'm yer -sweet'eart, eh? Yer wheedlin' blighter, makin' love to a girl as is old -enough to be yer mother!” - -“A woman,” Mr. Geary retorted sagely and not a whit abashed, “is at the -apex of her feminine charms at thirty-seven.” - -He knew his landlady to be not a day under fifty, but such is the ease -with which the Irish scatter their blarney, and such the vanity of -the gentler sex (for despite Mother Jenks's assault upon Carmelita, we -include the lady in that pleasing category), that neither Billy -Geary nor Mother Jenks regarded this pretty speech in the light of an -observation immaterial, inconsequential and not germane to the matter -at issue. For Mother Jenks was the eternal feminine, and it warmed the -cockles of her heart to be told she was only thirty-seven, even though -reason warned her that the compliment was not garnished with the sauce -of sincerity. As for Billy, the sight of Mother Jenks swallowing this -specious bait, together with hook, line, and sinker, always amused him -and for the nonce took his mind off his own troubles. Nevertheless, -there was a deeper reason for his blarney. This morning, watching the -tell tale tinge of pleasure underlying the alcohol-begotten hue of -the good creature's face, he felt almost ashamed of his own -heartlessness--almost, but not quite. - -Let us take Billy's view of his own case and view his mendacity with a -kindly and tolerant eye. For two months he had existed entirely because -of the leniency of Mother Jenks in the matter of credit. - -He could not pay her cash, devoutly as he hoped to do some day, and he -considered it of the most vital importance that in the interim he should -somehow survive. Therefore, in lieu of cash he paid her compliments, -which she snapped up greedily. - -In the cold gray dawn of the morning after Mother Jenks always detected -the bug in Billy's amber and vowed to rout him bag and baggage that very -day; but when one is fond of blarney, it is hard indeed to destroy the -source of it; and while Mother Jenks's courage had mounted to the point -of action many a time, in the language of the sporting extra, Billy -had always “beaten her to the punch”; for when instinct warned him that -Mother Jenks was about to talk business, he could always rout her by -declaring she was pencilling her eyebrows or rouging her cheeks. - -An inventive genius was Billy. He never employed the same defensive -tactics two days in succession, and when personal flattery threatened -to fail him, a large crayon reproduction of the late Henry Jenks, which -hung over the back bar, was a never-failing source of inspiration. - -This was the “sainted'Enery” previously referred to by Mother Jenks. He -had been a sergeant in Her Brittanic Majesty's Royal Horse Artillery, -and upon retiring to the Reserve had harkened to a proposition to -emigrate to Sobrante and accept a commission as colonel of artillery -with the Government forces then in the throes of a revolutionary attack. -The rebels had triumphed, and as a result 'Enery had been sainted via the -customary expeditious route; whereupon his wife had had recourse to her -early profession of barmaid, and El Buen Amigo had resulted. - -However, let us return to our sheeps, as Mr. Geary would have expressed -it. Seemingly the effect of Billy's compliment was instantly evident, -for Mother Jenks set out two glasses and a bottle. - -“I know yer a trifler, Willy Geary,” she simpered, “but if I do s'y it -as shouldn't, I was accounted as 'andsome a barmaid as you'd find in -Bristol town. I've lost my good looks, what with grief an' worritin' -since losin' my sainted 'Enery, but I was 'andsome oncet.” - -“I can well believe it, Mother--since you are handsome still! For my -part,” he continued confidentially, as with shaking hand he filled his -brandy-glass, “you'll excuse this drunkard's drink, Mother, but I -need it; I had the shakes again last night--for my part, I prefer the -full-blown rose to the bud.” - -Mother Jenks fluttered like a _debutante_ as she poured her drink. They -touched glasses, calloused worldlings that they were. - -“'Ow,” said Mother Jenks, toasting the philandering wretch. - -“How!” He tossed off his drink. It warmed and strengthened him, after -his night of chills and fever, and brazenly he returned to the attack. - -“Changing the subject from feminine grace and charm to manly strength -and virtue, I've been marking lately the resolute poise of your martyred -husband's head on his fine military shoulders. There was a man, if I may -judge from his photograph, that would fight a wildcat.” - -“Oh, m'ybe 'e wouldn't!” Mother Jenks hastened to declare. “You know, -Willie, I was present w'en they shot 'im, a-waitin' to claim 'is body. -'E kisses me good-bye, an' says 'e: 'Brace up, ol' girl. Remember your -'usband's been a sergeant in 'Er Majesty's Royal 'Orse Artillery, an' -don't let the bloody blighters see yer cry.' Then 'e walks out front, -with 'is fine straight back to the wall, draws a circle on 'is blue -tunic with white chalk an' says: 'Shoot at that, yer yeller-bellied -bounders, an' be damned to yer!'” - -“To be the widow of such a gallant son of Mars,” Billy declared, “is a -greater honour than being the wife of a duke.” - -For the sake of 'Enery's memory Mother Jenks squeezed out a tear. Billy -would have egged her on to a lachrymal flood, for he knew she would -enjoy it, but at that moment entered Carmelita, to announce breakfast. - -Mother Jenks, recalling her husband's last advice, declined to let even -a Sobrantean girl see her weep. She composed herself instantly, filled -her glass again, and pushed the bottle to Billy. - -“'Ave another peg with Mother, Willie.” - -“I'll go you, Mother, although it's really my turn to set 'em up. I would -if I had the price. However, I'm expecting action on that concession of -mine pretty soon, Mother, and when I get straightened out, they'll date -time in the Calle de Concordia from the spending toot I'll inaugurate. -Ah, Mother,” he added with a note of genuine gratitude and sincerity, -“you've been awfully good to me. I don't know what I'd have done without -you.” He laid his hand on her fat arm. “Mother, one of these days I'll -get mine, and when I do I'm going to stake you to a nice little pub back -in Bristol.” - -She smiled at him with motherly tenderness and shook her head. In a -concrete niche in the mortuary of the Catedrâl de la Vera Cruz the bones -of her sainted 'Enery reposed, and when her hour came she would lie -beside him. Moreover, she was a tropical tramp. She had grown to like -Sobrante, for all her railing against it, and she knew she would never -see the chalk cliffs of Albion again. - -“Yer a sweet boy, Willie,” she told him, “an' I'd trust yer for double -the score, s'help me. 'Eving knows I 'aven't much, but wot I 'ave I -shares freely with them I likes. I 'ave a brace o' duck heggs, 'am an' -'ot cakes, Willie, an' yer 'll breakfuss with Mother. Duck heggs, 'am an' -'ot cakes, Willie. 'Ow's that? Eh, yer precious byby.” - -Billy's glistening eyes testified to the profundity of his feelings -at the prospect of this Lucullan feast. It had been long since Mother -Jenks's larder had yielded him anything more stable than brown beans, -tortillas, fried onions, and an occasional dab of marmalade, and the -task of filling in the corners of his appetite with free tropical fruit -had long since grown irksome. - -Mother Jenks preceded him into the shady side of the veranda, where -ordinarily she was wont to breakfast in solitary state. Her table was -set for two this morning, however, but this extraordinary circumstance -was lost sight of by the shameless Billy in the prospect of one more -real meal before the chills and fever claimed their own. He flipped an -adventurous cockroach off the table and fell to with fine appetite. - -He was dallying with a special brew of coffee, with condensed milk in -it, when the Jamaica negro entered from the _cantina_ to announce Don -Juan Cafe-téro with a cablegram. - -“A cablegram!” Mother Jenks cried. “Gord's truth! I'll wager the pub -it's for you, Willie.” - -“I wonder! Can it be possible it's come at last?” Billy cried -incredulously. - -“I'd not be surprised,” Mother Jenks replied. “Bob”--turning to the -negro, and addressing him in her own private brand of Spanish--“give Don -Juan a drink, if 'e 'asn't helped 'imself while yer back is turned, an' -bring the cablegram 'ere.” - -Within the minute Bob returned with a long yellow envelope, which he -handed Mother Jenks. Without so much as a glance at the superscription, -she handed it to Billy Geary, who tore it open and read: - -Los Angeles, Calif., U. S. A., August 16, 1913. - -Henrietta Wilkins, - -Calle de Concordia, No. 19, - -Buenaventura, - -Sobrante, C. A. - -Leaving to-day to visit you. Will cable from New Orleans exact date -arrival. - -Dolores. - -The shadow of deep disappointment settled over Billy's face as he read. -Mother Jenks noted it instantly. - -“Wot's 'e got to s'y, Willie?” she demanded. - -“It isn't a he. It's a she,” Billy replied. “Besides, the cablegram -isn't for me at all. It's for one Henrietta Wilkins, Calle de Concordia, -Number Nineteen, and who the devil Henrietta Wilkins may be is a mystery -to me. Ever have any boarder by that name, Mother?” - -Mother Jenks's red face had gone white. “'Enrietta Wilkins was my -maiden nyme, Willie,” she confessed soberly, “an' there's only one human -as 'ud cable me or write me by that nyme. Gord, Willie, wot's 'appened?” - -“I'll read it to you, Mother.” - -Billy read the message aloud; and when he had finished, to his -amazement, Mother Jenks laid her head on the table and began to weep. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -|WHEN Billy Geary could reorganize himself, as it were, after the shock -incident to his discovery that the cablegram was not for him after all, -he turned his attention to Mother Jenks. Without quite realizing why he -did so, Billy decided that fear and not grief was at the bottom of the -good creature's distress, and in his awkward, masculine way he placed -his arm around Mother Jenks's shoulders, shook her gently, and bade her -remember that chaos might come and go again, but he, the said William -Geary, would remain her true and steadfast friend in any and all -emergencies that might occur. - -“Gor' bless yer heart, Willie,” Mother Jenks sniffled. “If this was only -somethink I could hentrust to a man! But it ain't.” - -“Well, suppose you tell me what it is and let me be the judge,” Billy -suggested. “I haven't got one _centavo_ to rub against the other, and -on present form and past performances I'm the last man in the world to -handle an affair between two women, but--I have a head on my shoulders, -and nobody ever had reason to suspect that head of being empty. Perhaps, -if you care to give me your confidence, I may be of service to you, -Mother.” - -“Willie,” his landlady wailed, “I dunno wot in 'ell yer ever goin' to -think o' me w'en I tell ye wot I've been up to this past fifteen year.” - -“Whatever you've been up to, Mother, it was a kind and charitable -deed--of that much I am certain,” Billy replied loftily and--to his own -surprise--sincerely. - -“As Gord is my judge, Willie, it started out that w'y,” moaned Mother -Jenks, and she squeezed Billy's hand as if from that yellow, shaking -member she would draw aid and comfort. “'Er nyme is Dolores Ruey.” - -“Any relation to the Ruey family of Buenaventura?” - -“A first cousin, Willie. 'Er father was Don Ricardo Ruey, _présidente_ -av this blasted 'ell on earth w'en me an' my sainted 'Enery first come -to Buenaventura. 'E was too good for the yeller-bellied beggars; 'e -tried to do somethink for them an' run the government on the square, an' -they couldn't hunderstand, all along o' 'avin' been kicked an' cuffed -by a long line of bloody rotters. It was Don Ricardo as gives my sainted -'Enery 'is commission as colonel in the hartillery. - -“That was all very well, you know, Willie, only Don Ricardo didn't go -far enough. If 'e'd only 'arkened to 'Enery's advice an' imported a lot -o' bloomin' Tommies to serve 'Enery's guns, 'im an' 'Enery never would -'ave faced that firin'-squad. Many's the time 'Enery's said to -me: ''Enrietta, me 'art's broke tryin' to myke gunners out o' them -blackamoors Don Ricardo gives me to serve the screwguns. They've been -born without a sense o' distance!' Gor' bless you, Willie, my sainted -'Enery 'ad no bloomin' use for a range-finder. 'E'd cast 'is eye over -the ground an' then try a shot for distance. M'ybe'e'd be a bit short. -'A bit more elevation, _amigos_,' says 'Enery, an' tries again. This -time 'e's a bit over it, m'ybe, but the third or fourth shot 'e 'as the -range an' stays right on the target. But then, Willie, as 'Enery used -to s'y to me: ''Enrietta, how in blazes can I serve six guns? How can a -colonel of hartillery come down off 'is 'orse an do a gunner's work? It -ain't dignified.'” - -Billy nodded. He had heard that story so often in the past that he knew -it by heart; from all he could learn the sainted 'Enery quite resembled -a horse, in that he had room in his head for but one thought at a time. -As a gunner-sergeant he was doubtless a loss to the British service, but -as a colonel of So-brantean artillery he had tried to forget that once -he had been a gunner-sergeant! - -“You've 'eard me tell,” Mother Jenks continued, “'ow the rebels got -'arf a dozen Hamerican gunners--deserters from the navy--an' blew -'Enery's battery to bits, 'ow the Government forces fell back upon -Buenaventura, an' as 'ow w'en the dorgs begun to wonder if they mightn't -lose, they quit by the 'undreds an' went over to the rebel side, leavin' -Don Ricardo an' 'Enery an' m'ybe fifty o' the gentry in the palace. In -course they fought to a finish; 'ristocrats, all of them, they 'ad to -die fightin' or facin' a firin'-squad.” - -Again Billy nodded. He had heard the tale before, including the recital -of the sainted 'Enery's gallant dash from the blazing palace in an -effort to save Don Ricardo's only child, a girl of seven, and of his -capture and subsequent execution. - -“That ended the revolution,” Mother Jenks concluded. “But 'ere's -somethink I've never told a livin' soul. Shortly before 'Enery was -hexecuted, 'e told me where 'e'd 'id the youngster--in a culvert out on -the Malecon; so I 'ired a four-wheeler an' went out an' rescued the pore -lamb. She'd been 'idin' there thirty-six hours an' was well-nigh dead, -an' as there ain't no tellin' what a mob o' these spiggoties 'll do when -they're excited, I 'id 'er until the harrival o' the next fruit steamer, -w'en I shipped 'er to New Orleans in care o' the stewardess. Hi 'ad 'er -put in the Catholic convent there, for as 'Enery said: ''Enrietta, keep -an eye on the little nipper, an' do yer damndest to see she's raised a -lydy. 'Er father was a gentleman, an' you never want to forget 'e -made you Mrs. Colonel Jenks.' So Hi've made a lydy out o' her, Willie: -education, pianner lessons, paintin', singin', an' deportmint. After she -graduated from the convent, I 'ad her take a course in the Uniwersity o' -California--New Orleans wasn't 'ealthy for'er, an' she needed a chynge -o' climate--an' for the last two years she's been teachin' in the 'igh -school in Los Angeles.” - -“And you haven't seen her in all these years?” Geary demanded. - -“Not a look, Willie. She's been after me ever since she graduated from -the convent to let her come 'ome an' wisit me, but Hi've told'er to -wyte--that I'd be comin' soon to wisit her. An' now, s'help me, she -won't wait no longer; she's cornin' to wisit me! Gor', Willie, she's on -her w'y!” - -“So this cablegram would indicate,” Geary observed. “Nevertheless, -Mother, I'm at a loss to know why you should feel so cut up over the -impending visit.” - -There was real fear in Mother Jenks's tear-dimmed eyes. “I cawn't -let'er see me,” she wailed. “I wasn't this w'y w'en my sainted 'Enery -hentrusted the lamb to me; it wasn't until awfter they hexecuted 'Enery -that I commenced to slip--an' now look at me. Look at me, Willie Geary; -look at me, I s'y. Wot do yer see? Aw, don't tell me I'm young an' -'andsome, for I knows wot I am. I'm a frowsy, drunken, disreputable -baggage, with no heducation or nothink. I've raised'er a lydy on -account of 'er bein' born a lydy an' her father bein' good to me an my -'Enery--an' all along, hever since she learned to write me a -letter, I've been 'Enrietta Wilkins to'er, an' Mother Jenks to every -beach-combin' beggar in the Caribbean tropics. I've lied to'er, Willie. -I've wrote 'er as 'ow 'er fawther, before 'e died, give me enough money -to heducate'er like a lydy----” - -Again Mother Jenks's grief overcame her. “An' wot lovin' letters my -darlin' writes me,” she sobbed. “Calls me 'er lovin' Aunt 'Enrietta, -an' me--Gor', Willie, I ain't respectable. She's comin' to see me--an' -I cawn't let'er. She mustn't know 'ow I got the money for 'er -heducation--sellin' 'ell-fire to a pack of rotten dorgs an' consortin' -with the scum of this stinkin' 'ole! Oh, Willie, you've got to 'elp me. -I cawn't 'ave'er comin' to El Buen Amigo to see me, an' I cawn't ruin -'er reputation by callin' on 'er in public at the 'Otel Mateo. Oh, Gor', -Willie, Mother's come a cropper.” - -Willie agreed with her. He patted the sinful gray head of his landlady -and waited for her to regain her composure, the while he racked his -agile brain for a feasible plan to fit the emergency. He realized it -would be quite useless to argue Mother Jenks into the belief that she -might pull herself together, so to speak, and run the risk of meeting -with her ward; for the old woman had been born in the slums of London -and raised a barmaid. She knew her place. She was not a lady and could -never hope now to associate with one, even in a menial capacity, so -there was an end to it! During the past fifteen years, the lower -Mother Jenks had sunk in the social scale, even of free-and-easy old -Buenaventura, the higher had she raised the one sweet note in her sordid -life; not until the arrival of that cablegram did she realize that -during those fifteen years she had been raising a barrier between her -and the object of her stifled maternal yearnings--a barrier which, to -her class-controlled mind, could never be swept away. - -“She's been picturin' me in 'er mind all these years, Willie--picturin' -a fraud,” wailed Mother Jenks. “If she sees me now, wot a shock she'll -get, pore sweetheart--an' 'er the spittin' himage of a hangel. -And oh, Willie, while she don't remember wot I looked like, think o' the -shock if she meets me! In 'er lawst letter she said as 'ow I was the only -hanchor she had in life. Ho, yes. A sweet-lookin' hanchor I am--an' -Hi was 'opin' to die before she found hout. I've got a hanuerism in my -'eart, Willie, so the surgeon on the mail boat tells me, an' w'en I go, -I'll go like--that!” Mother Jenks snapped her cigarette-stained fingers. -“I 'ad the doctor come ashore the last time _La Estrellita_ was in, -on account o' 'im bein' a Hamerican an' up to snuff. An' Hi've got -'ardenin' of the harteries, too. I'm fifty-seven, Willie, an' since -my sainted 'Enery passed away, I 'aven't been no bloomin' hangel.” She -wrung her hands. “Oh, w'y in 'ell couldn't them harteries 'ave busted in -time to save my lamb the 'umiliatin' knowledge that she's be'oldin' to -the likes o' me for wot she's got--an' 'ow I got it for'er.” - -Billy Geary had a bright idea. “Well,” he said, “why not -die--temporarily--if you feel that way about it? You could come back -from the grave after she's gone.” - -But Mother Jenks shook her head. “No,” she declared. “While Dolores is -self-supportin' now, still, if anythink 'appened an' she was to need -'elp, 'elp is somethin' no ghost can give. Think again, Willie. Gor', -lad, w'ere's yer brains--an' you with your stummick filled to bustin' -with a breakfast fit for a knight o' the bawth.” - -“Well,” Billy countered thoughtfully, “apparently there's no way of -heading her off before she takes the steamer at New Orleans, so we'll -take it for granted she'll arrive here in due course. About the time -she's due, suppose you run up to San Miguel de Padua for a couple of -weeks and leave me to run El Buen Amigo in your absence. I'll play fair -with you, Mother, so help me. I'll account for every _centavo_. I'll -borrow some decent clothes from Leber the day the steamer gets in; then -I'll go aboard and look over the passenger-list, and if she's aboard, -I'll tell her you closed your house and started for California to visit -her on the last northbound steamer--that her cablegram arrived just -after you had started; that the cable company, knowing I am a friend of -yours, showed me the message and that I took it upon myself to call and -explain that as a result of your departure for the United States it will -be useless for her to land--useless and dangerous, because cholera is -raging in Buenaventura, although the port authorities deny it----” - -“Willie,” Mother Jenks interrupted impressively, a ghost of her old -debonair spirit shining through her tears, “yer don't owe me a bloomin' -sixpence! Yer've syved the day, syved my reputation, an' syved a lydy's -peace o' mind. Kiss me, yer precious byby.” - -So Billy kissed her--gravely and with filial reverence, for he had long -suspected Mother Jenks of being a pearl cast before swine, and now he -was certain of it. - -“I'll send her back to the United States and promise to cable you to -await her there,” Billy continued. “Of course, we can't help it if you -and the cablegram miss connections, and once the young lady is back -in the United States, I dare say she'll have to stay there a couple of -years before she can save the price of another sea voyage. And in the -meantime she may marry----” - -“Or that haneurism or my bally harteries may 'ave turned the trick -before that,” Mother Jenks suggested candidly but joyously. “In course -she'll be disappointed, but then disappointment never lays 'eavy on a -young 'eart, Willie; an' bein' disappointed at not seein' a person you -ain't really acquainted with ain't as bad as some disappointments.” - -“I guess I know,” Billy Geary replied bitterly. “If that cablegram -had only been for me! The only thing worth while I have done in my -twenty-six years of life was to accumulate the best friend a man ever -had--and lose him again because I was a fool and couldn't understand -things without a blueprint! Mother, if my old partner could, by some -miracle, manage to marry this Dolores girl, your arteries and your -aneurisms might bust and be damned, but the girl would be safe.” - -“M'ybe,” Mother Jenks suggested hopefully, “yer might fix it up for her -w'en I'm gone. From all haccounts 'e's no-end a gentleman.” - -“He's a he-man,” Mr. Geary declared with conviction. He sighed. “John -Stuart Webster, wherever you are, please write or cable,” he murmured. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -|THE ancient bromide to the effect that man proposes but God disposes -was never better exemplified than in the case of John Stuart Webster, -who, having formulated certain daring plans for the morrow and -surrendered himself to grateful slumber in his stateroom aboard the Gulf -States Limited, awoke on that momentous morn to a distinct apprehension -that all was not as it should be with him. His mouth reminded him -vaguely of a bird-and-animal store, and riot and insurrection had broken -out in the geometric centre of his internal economy. - -“I believe I'm going to be too ill to eat breakfast,” he told himself. - -By seven o'clock this apprehension had crystallized into certainty. -Webster had spent much of his life far from civilization, and as -a result had found it necessary to acquire more than the layman's -knowledge of rough-and-tumble surgery and the ordinary ills to which -mortal is heir; consequently he was sufficient of a jack-leg doctor to -suspect he was developing a splendid little case of ptomaine poisoning. -He was aided in reaching this conclusion by memories of the dinner his -friends had given him the night before, and at which he had partaken of -a mallard duck, killed out of season and therefore greatly to be prized. -He recalled the waiter's boast that the said duck had been hung for five -days and had reached that state of ripeness and tenderness so greatly -desired by those connoisseurs of food whose fool philosophy has been -responsible for more deaths than most doctors.. - -“That brute of a duck was too far gone,” Mr. Webster soliloquized -bitterly. “And to think I'm killed off in the mere shank of my -celebration, just because I got so rich and stuck-up I had to tie into -some offal to show what a discerning judgment I had in food, not to -mention my distinctive appetite. I ought to be knocked on the head with -something, and I hope I may be if I ever accept any man's judgment in -opposition to my own, on the subject of ripe mallards. This is what -comes of breaking the game laws.” - -He decided presently to go into executive session with the sleeping-car -conductor, who wired ahead for a doctor to meet the train at the next -station. And when the sawbones came and pawed Jack Webster over, he -gravely announced that if the patient had the slightest ambition to -vote at the next Presidential election, he should leave the train at -St. Louis and enter a hospital forthwith. To this heart-breaking program -Webster entered not the slightest objection, for when a man is seriously -ill, he is in much the same position as a politician--to wit: he is in -the hands of his friends. A sick man is always very sick--or thinks he -is, which amounts to the same thing; and as a rule he thinks of little -else save how sick he is. John S. Webster was, in this respect, neither -better nor worse than others of his sex, and in his great bodily and -mental depression his plans of the night before for getting acquainted -with Dolores Ruey occurred to him now as something extremely futile and -presumptuous. That young lady was now the subject least in his mind, for -she was at most naught but a bright day-dream; whereas his friend -Billy Geary was down in Sobrante with a rich wildcat mine waiting to be -developed, while the source of development lay on a bed of pain assailed -by secret apprehensions that all was over! - -“Poor Billy-boy!” the sufferer murmured. “He'll wait and wait, and his -old Jack-partner won't come! Damn that duck!” - -He had one little stab of pain higher up, and around his heart, as they -carried him off the train at St. Louis and stowed him in an ambulance -thoughtfully provided for by telegraph. In a nebulous way it occurred to -him that Fate had again crossed her fingers when paradise loomed on the -horizon; but recalling how very ill he was, he damned the duck. He told -himself that even if he should survive (which wasn't possible), there -could be no doubt in his mind, after all he had been through, that the -good Lord had marked him for a loveless, friendless, childless man; that -it was useless to struggle against the inevitable. He felt very, very -sorry for himself as the orderlies tucked him into bed and a nurse -thrust a thermometer under his tongue. - -“A hundred and four and a quarter,” he heard her murmur to the doctor a -few minutes later. - -“No bird ever flew so high that he didn't come down to roost,” said Mr. -Webster aloud. - -The doctor and the nurse exchanged knowing glances. They nodded. The -patient was already delirious--a bad sign. - -“Hey, Doc,” the stricken man called. They bent over him. -“Send--cablegram to Billy Geary--tell him--come home--before that -thousand--spent--money--my pocket.” - -“Yes, I hear you,” the nurse said soothingly. “And the address?” - -“Calle de Concordia, Nineteen, Buenaventura, Sobrante.” - -“Say it again,” the nurse urged him. “Spell it.” Poor girl! She was -a native of St. Louis. If Jack Webster had mentioned Ossawatomie or -Canandaigua, he would not have been called upon to go into details and -waste his strength. He gasped and wet his lips; she bent to get the -message: - -“Damn that duck,” he whispered. “She had a green tailor-made suit, -and--believe me, girl, I'd rather sell my Death Valley--borax-claims -than--work them myself. Free-milling gold--catch it on amalgamating -plates--contact between andesite and--Silurian limestone--Billy -knows ducks. I taught him myself. Come, Neddy. All together now, you -old--pelican. A little close harmony, boys: - - “Let go the peak halyards, - - Let go the peak halyards, - - My finger is caught in the block! - - Leggo!” - -“Sounds like a drinking man,” the doctor observed. “If that's the case, -this attack will go hard with him.” - -It did. However, life had the habit of going hard with Webster so -frequently that fortunately he was trained to the minute, and after -three days of heroic battling the doctor awarded Jack the decision. -Thereafter they kept him in the hospital ten days longer, “feeding him -up” as the patient expressed it--at the end of which period Webster, -some fifteen pounds lighter and not quite so fast on his feet as -formerly, resumed his journey toward New Orleans. - -In the meantime, however, several things had happened. To begin, Dolores -Ruey spent two days wondering what had become of her quondam knight of -the whiskers--at the end of which period she arrived in New Orleans -with the conviction strong upon her that while her hero might be -as courageous as a wounded lion when dealing with men, he was the -possessor, when dealing with women, of about two per cent, less courage -than a cottontail rabbit. She reproached herself for the wintry glance -she had cast upon the poor fellow that night at the Denver railway -station; she decided that the amazing Neddy Jerome was an interfering, -impudent old fool and that she had done an unmaidenly and brazen deed -in replying to his ridiculous telegram, even though she did so under an -assumed name. Being a very human young lady, however, she could not help -wondering what had become of the ubiquitous Mr. Webster, although the -fact that he had mysteriously disappeared from the train en route to New -Orleans did not perturb her one half so much as it had the disappearee! -She had this advantage over that unfortunate man. Whereas he did not -know she was bound for Buenaventura, she knew he was; hence, upon -arrival in New Orleans she dismissed him from her thoughts, serene in -abiding faith that sooner or later her knight would appear, like little -_Bo-Peep's_ lost sheep, dragging his tail behind him, so to speak. -The only regret she entertained arose from her disappointment in the -knowledge of his real character, and its wide variance from the heroic -attributes with which she had endowed him. She had depended upon him to -be a daring devil--and he had failed to toe the scratch! - -Dolores spent a week in New Orleans renewing schoolgirl friendships from -her convent days in the quaint old town. This stop-over, together with -the one in Denver, not having been taken into consideration by Mr. -William Geary when he and Mother Jenks commenced to speculate upon -the approximate date of her arrival in Buenaventura, resulted in the -premature flight of Mother Jenks to San Miguel de Padua, a fruitless -visit on the part of Billy aboard the _Cacique_, of the United Fruit -Company's line, followed by a hurry call to Mother Jenks to return to -Buenaventura until the arrival of the next steamer. - -This time Billy's calculations proved correct, for Dolores did arrive -on that steamer. It is also worthy of remark here that shortly after -boarding the vessel and while _La Estrellita_ was snoring down the -Mississippi, Miss Dolores did the missing Webster the signal honour of -scanning the purser's passenger list in a vain search for his name. - -At Buenaventura the steamer anchored in the roadstead; the port doctor -came aboard, partook of his customary drink with the captain, received -a bundle of the latest American newspapers and magazines, nosed around, -asked a few perfunctory questions, and gave the vessel pratique. -Immediately she was surrounded by lighters manned by clamorous, -half-naked Sobranteans, each screaming in a horrible patois of English, -Spanish, and good American slang perfervid praises of the excellence -of his service compared with that of his neighbour. Dolores was -particularly interested in the antics of one fellow who had a sign -tacked on a short signal mast in his lighter. “I am a poor man with -a large family, and my father was an American,” the legend ran. -“Kind-hearted Americans will patronize me to the exclusion of all -others.” - -Dolores had made up her mind to heed this pathetic appeal, when she -observed a gasolene launch shoot up to the landing at the foot of the -companion-ladder and discharge a well-dressed, youthful white man. As he -came up the companion, the purser recognized him. - -“Howdy, Bill,” he called. - -“Hello, yourself,” Mr. William Geary replied, and Dolores knew him for -an American. “Do you happen to have as a passenger this trip a large, -interesting person, by name John Stuart Webster?” added Billy Geary. - -“I don't know, Billy. I'll look over the passenger-list.” - -“No hope,” Billy replied mournfully. “If Jack Webster was aboard he'd -have got acquainted with you. However, take a look-see to make certain.” - -“Friend of yours?” the purser queried. - -“You bet. Likewise guide and philosopher. He should have been here on -the last steamer--cabled me he was coming, and I haven't heard a word -from him since. I'm a little worried.” - -“I'll get the list,” the purser announced, and together they moved off -toward his office. Dolores followed, drawn by the mention of that magic -name Webster, and paused in front of the purser's office to lean over the -rail, ostensibly to watch the _cargadores_ in their lighters clustering -around the great ship, but in reality to learn more of the mysterious -Webster. - -“Blast the luck,” Billy Geary growled, “the old sinner isn't here. Gosh, -that's worse than having a note called on a fellow. By the way, do you -happen to have a Miss Dolores Ruey aboard?” - -Dolores pricked up her little ears. What possible interest could this -stranger have in her goings or comings? - -“You picked a winner this time, Bill,” she heard the purser say. -“Stateroom Sixteen, boat-deck, starboard side. You'll probably find her -there, packing to go ashore.” - -“Thanks,” Billy replied and stepped out of the purser's office. Dolores -turned and faced him. - -“I am Miss Ruey,” she announced. “I heard you asking for me.” Her eyes -carried the query she had not put into words: “Who are you, and what -do you want?” Billy saw and understood, and on the instant a wave of -desolation surged over him. - -So this was the vision he had volunteered to meet aboard _La -Estrellita_, and by specious lie and hypo-critic mien, turn her back -from the portals of Buenaventura to that dear old United States, which, -Billy suddenly recalled with poignant pain, is a sizable country in -which a young lady may very readily be lost forever. At the moment it -occurred to Mr. Geary that the apotheosis of rapture would be a midnight -stroll in the moonlight along the Malecon, with the little waves from -the Caribbean lapping and gurgling against the beach, while afar, in -some bosky retreat, a harp with a flute obbligato sobbed out “'Nita, -Juanita” or some equally heart-throb ballad. Yes, that would be quite a -joyous journey--with Dolores Ruey. - -Billy, with the quick eye of youth, noted that Dolores was perfectly -wonderful in a white flannel skirt and jacket, white buck boots, white -panama hat with a gorgeous puggaree, a mannish little linen collar, and -a red four-in-hand tie. From under that white hat peeped a profusion of -crinkly brown hair with a slightly reddish tinge to it; her eyes were -big and brown and wide apart, with golden flecks in them; their glance -met Billy's hungry gaze simply, directly, and with 'a curiosity there -was no attempt to hide. Her complexion was that peculiar shade of olive, -with a warm, healthy, underlying tinge that nobody could possibly hope -to describe, but which fits in so beautifully with brown eyes of a -certain shade. Her nose was patrician; her beautiful short upper lip -revealed the tips of two perfect, milk-white front teeth: she was, Billy -Geary told himself, a goddess before whom all low, worthless, ornery -fellows like himself should grovel and die happy, if perchance she might -be so minded as to walk on their faces! He was aroused from his critical -inventory when the houri spoke again: - -“You haven't answered my question, sir!” - -“No,” said Billy, “I didn't. Stupid of me, too. I was staring, -instead--because, you see, it isn't often we poor expatriated devils -down here climb out of Hades long enough to view the angels! However, -come to think of it, you didn't ask me any question. You looked it. My -name is Geary--William H. Geary, by profession a mining engineer and -by nature an ignoramus, and I have called to deliver some disappointing -news regarding Henrietta Wilkins.” - -“Is she----” - -“She is very much alive and in excellent health--or rather was, the -last time it was my pleasure and privilege to call on the dear lady. But -she isn't in Buenaventura now.” Mentally Billy asked God to forgive him -his black-hearted treachery to this winsome girl. He loathed the task he -had planned and foisted upon himself, and nothing but the memory of -Mother Jenks's manifold kindnesses to him in a day, thanks to Jack -Webster, now happily behind him, could have induced him to go through to -the finish. Mentally clinging to the memory of his obligations to Mother -Jenks, Billy ruthlessly smothered his finer instincts and with breaking -heart prepared to do or die. - -“Why, where is she?” Dolores queried, and Billy could have wept at the -fright in those lovely brown eyes. - -He waved his hand airily. “_Quien sabe?_” he said. “She left three weeks -ago for New Orleans to visit you. I dare say you passed each other on -the road--here, here, Miss Ruey, don't cry. By golly, this is a tough -one, I know, but be brave and we'll save something out of the wreck -yet.” - -He took a recess of three minutes, while Dolores dabbed her eyes and -went through sundry other motions of being brave. Then he proceeded with -his nefarious recital. - -“When your cablegram arrived, Miss Ruey, naturally Mrs. Wilkins was not -here to receive it, and as I was the only person who had her address, -the cable-agent referred it to me. Under the circumstances, not knowing -where I could reach you with a cable informing you that Mrs. Wilkins -was headed for California to see you, I had no other alternative but -let matters take their course. I decided you might arrive on _La -Estrellita_, so I called to welcome you to our thriving little city, -and, as a friend of about two minutes' standing, to warn you away from -it.” - -Billy's mien, as he voiced this warning, was so singularly mysterious -that Dolores's curiosity was aroused instantly and rose superior to her -grief. “Why, what's the matter?” she demanded. - -Billy looked around, as if fearful of being overheard. He lowered his -voice. “We're going to have one grand little first-class revolution,” he -replied. “It's due to bust almost any night now, and when it does, the -streets of San Buenaventura will run red with blood. I shudder to think -of the fate that might befall you, alone and unprotected in the city, in -such event.” - -Dolores blanched. “Oh, dearie me,” she quavered. “Do they still have -revolutions here? You know, Mr. Geary, my poor father was killed in -one.” - -“Yes, and the same old political gang that shot him is still on deck,” - Billy warned her. “It would be highly dangerous for a Ruey, man or -woman, to show his or her nose around Buenaventura about now. Besides, -Miss Ruey, that isn't the worst,” he continued, for a whole-hearted lad -was Billy, who never did anything by halves. While he was opposed to -lies and liars on broad, general principles, nevertheless whenever the -exigencies of circumstance compelled him to backslide, his Hibernian -impulsiveness bade him spin a yarn worth while. “The city is reeking -with cholera,” he declared. - -“Cholera!” Dolores's big brown eyes grew Digger with wonder and concern. -“Are there any other fatal diseases prevalent, Mr. Geary?” - -“Well, we're not advertising it, Miss Ruey, but if I had an enemy to -whom I wanted to slip a plain or fancy case of bubonic plague, I'd -invite him to visit me at Buenaventura.” - -“How strange the port authorities didn't warn us at New Orleans!” - Dolores suggested. - -“Tish! Tush! Fiddlesticks and then some. The fruit company censors -everything, Miss Ruey, and the news doesn't get out. The port -authorities here would never admit the truth of such reports, because it -would be bad for business----” - -“But the port doctor just said the passengers could go ashore.” - -“What's a human life to a doctor? Besides, he's on the slush-fund -pay-roll and does whatever the higher-ups tell him. You be guided by -what I tell you, Miss Ruey, and do not set foot on Sobrantean soil. Even -if you had a guarantee that you could escape alive, there isn't a hotel -in the city you could afford to sleep in; Miss Wilkins's house is closed -up, and Miss Wilkins's servants dismissed, and--er--well, if you stay -aboard _La Estrellita_, you'll have your nice clean stateroom, your -well-cooked meals, your bath, and the attentions of the stewardess. The -steamer will be loaded in two days; then you go back to New Orleans, and -by the time you arrive there I'll have been in communication by cable -with Mother Jenks--I mean----” - -“Mother who?” Dolores demanded. - -“A mere slip of the tongue, Miss Ruey. I was thinking of my landlady. I -meant Mrs. Wilkins----” - -“You mean Miss Wilkins,” Dolores corrected him smilingly. - -“So I do. Of course, Miss Wilkins. Well, I'll cable her you're on your -way back, and if you'll leave me your New Orleans address, I'll have her -get in touch with you, and then you can have your nice little visit far -from the madding crowd's ignoble strife and the death-dealing sting of -the yellow-fever mosquito.” - -“I'm so awfully obliged to you, Mr. Geary. You're so kind, I'm sure -I'd be a most ungrateful girl not to be guided by you accordingly. You -wouldn't risk any friend of yours in this terrible place, would you, Mr. -Geary?” - -“Indeed, I would not. By permitting anybody I thought anything of to -come to this city, I should feel guilty of murder.” - -“I'm sure you would, Mr. Geary. Nevertheless, there is one point that is -not quite clear in my mind, and I wish you'd explain----” - -“Command me, Miss Ruey.” - -“If this is such a frightful place, why are you so anxious, if I may -employ such language, to hornsgoggle your dearest friend, Mr. John S. -Webster, into coming down here? Do you want to kill him and get his -money--or what?” - -Billy's face flamed at thought of the embarrassing trap his glib tongue -had led him into. He cursed himself for a star-spangled jackass, and -while he was engaged in this interesting pastime Dolores spoke again. - -“And by the way, which is it? Miss Wilkins or Mrs.? You've called -her both, and when I reminded you she was a Miss, you agreed with me, -whereas she is nothing of the sort. She's a Mrs. Then you blurted out -something about a Mother Jenks, and finally, Mr. Geary, it occurs to me -that for a complete stranger you are unduly interested in my welfare. -I'm not such a goose as to assimilate your weird tales of death from -disease. I might have accepted the revolution, because I know it's the -national outdoor sport down here, and I might have accepted the cholera, -because it wouldn't surprise me; but when you so artlessly throw in -bubonic plague and yellow fever for good measure, Mr. Geary, you tax my -credulity. It occurs to me that if your friend John S. Webster can risk -Buenaventura, I can also.” - -“You--you know that old tarantula?” Billy gasped. “Why I--I came out to -warn him off the grass, too.” - -Dolores walked a step closer to Billy and eyed him disapprovingly. -“I'm so sorry I can't believe that statement,” she replied. “With the -exception of your tendency toward fiction, you're rather a presentable -young man, too. It's really too bad, but it happens that I was standing -by the companion-ladder when you came aboard and spoke to the purser; -when you asked him if Mr. Webster was aboard, your face was alight with -eagerness and anticipation, but when you had reason to believe he was -not aboard, you looked so terribly disappointed I felt sorry for you.” - -“Well, of course I would have been delighted to meet the old boy,” Billy -began, but she interrupted him. - -“Mr. Geary, you're about as reliable as a Los Angeles thermometer--and -if you've ever lived in a town the main asset of which is climate, you -know just how reliable you are. Now, let us understand each other, Mr. -Geary: If you think I'm the kind of simple, trusting little country maid -who would come within half a mile of the land of her birth and then run -back home because somebody said 'Boo!' you are not nearly so intelligent -as you look. I'm going ashore, if it's the last act of my life, and when -I get there I'm going to interview the cable agent; then I'm going to -call at the steamship office and scan the passenger list of the last -three north-bound steamers, and if I do not find Henrietta Wilkins's -name on one of those passenger lists I'm going up to Calle de Concordia -Number Nineteen----” - -“I surrender unconditionally,” groaned Billy. “I'm a liar from beginning -to end. I overlooked my hand. I forgot that while you were born in -this country and bred from several generations of Sobranteans, you were -raised in the U. S. A. I beg of you to believe me, however, when I tell -you that I only told you those whoppers because I was in honour bound to -tell them. Personally, I don't want you to go away--at least, not until -I'm ready to go away, too! Miss Ruey, my nose is in the dust. On my -lying head there is a ton of ashes and a thousand running yards of -sackcloth. There is a fever in my brain and a misery in my heart----” - -“And contrition in your face,” she interrupted him laughingly. “You're -forgiven, Mr. Geary--on one condition.” - -“Name it,” he answered. - -“Tell me everything from beginning to end.” - -So Billy told her, for there are some women in this world to whom a man -with a poker face, the imagination of a Verne, and the histrionic art of -an Irving cannot--nay, dare not--tell a lie. “I would much rather have -been visited with a plague of boils, like our old friend, the late Job, -than have to tell you this, Miss Ruey,” Bill concluded his recital. “Man -proposes, but God disposes, and you're here and bound to learn the truth -sooner or later. Mother isn't a lady and she knows it, but take it -from me, Miss Ruey, she's a grand old piece of work. She's a scout--a -ring-tailed sport--a regular individual and game as a gander.” - -“In other words,” Dolores replied smilingly, “she has a heart of gold.” - -“Twenty-four carat, all wool and a yard wide,” Billy declared, -mixed-metaphorically. - -“And I mustn't call at El Buen Amigo, Mr. Geary?” - -“Perish the thought! Mother must call on you. El Buen Amigo is what you -might term a hotel for tropical tramps of the masculine sex. Nearly all -of Mother's guests have a past, you know. They're the submerged white -tenth of Sobrante.” - -“Then my benefactor must call to see me here?” Billy nodded. “When will -you bring her here?” - -Billy reflected that Mother Jenks had been up rather late the night -before and that trade in the _cantina_ of El Buen Amigo had been -unusually brisk; so since he desired to exhibit the old lady at her -best, he concluded it might be well to spar for wind. - -“To-morrow at ten,” he declared. Dolores inclined her head. Something -told her she had better leave all future details to the amiable William. - -“I take it you are a guest at El Buen Amigo, Mr. Geary,” she continued. - -“Oh, yes. I've been a guest for about two weeks now; before that I was -an encumbrance. Now I'm paying my way--thanks to an old side-kicker of -mine, Jack Webster.” - -“But surely you're not a tropical tramp, Mr. Geary?” - -“I was, but Jack Webster reformed me,” Billy answered quizzically. “You -know--power of wealth and all that.” - -“I remember you inquired for your friend Mr. Webster when you came -aboard the steamer.” - -“I remember it, too,” Billy countered ruefully. “I can't imagine what's -become of him. I suppose I'll have a cable from him any day, though, -telling me he'll be along on the next steamer. Miss Ruey, did you ever -go to meet the only human being in the world and discover that for some -mysterious reason he had failed to keep the appointment? If you ever -have, you'll know just how cheerful I felt when I didn't find Jack's -name on the passenger list. Miss Ruey, you'll have to meet old John -Stuart the minute he lights in Buenaventura. He's some boy.” - -“_Old_ John Stuart?” she queried. “How old?” - -“Oh, thirty-nine or forty on actual count, but one of the kind that -will live to be a thousand and then have to be killed with an axe. He's -coming to Sobrante to help me put over a mining deal.” - -“How interesting, Mr. Geary! No wonder you were disappointed.” - -The last sentence was a shaft deliberately launched; to Dolores's -delight it made a keyhole in Billy Geary's heart. - -“Don't get me wrong, Miss Ruey,” he hastened to assure her. “I have a -good mine, but I'd trade it for a hand-shake from Jack! The good Lord -only published one edition of Jack, and limited the edition to one -volume; then the plates were melted for the junk we call the human -race.” - -“Oh, do tell me all about him,” Dolores pleaded. Billy, always -interested in his favourite topic, beamed with boyish pleasure. “No,” he -said, “I'll not tell you about him, Miss Ruey. I'll just let him speak -for himself. We used to be as close to each other as peas in a pod, -back in Colorado, and then I made a monkey of myself and shook old Jack -without even saying good-bye. Miss Ruey, my action didn't even dent -his friendship for me. Two weeks ago, when I was sick and penniless and -despairing, the possessor of a concession on a fortune but without -a _centavo_ in my pockets to buy a banana, when I was a veritable -beach-comber and existing on the charity of Mother Jenks, I managed -finally to communicate with old Jack and told him where I was and what I -had. There's his answer, Miss Ruey, and I'm not ashamed to say that when -I got it I cried like a kid.” And Billy handed her John Stuart Webster's -remarkable cablegram, the receipt of which had, for Billy Geary, -transformed night into day, purgatory into paradise. Dolores read it. - -“No wonder you love him,” she declared, and added artlessly: “His wife -must simply adore him.” - -“'He has no wife to bother his fife, so he paddles his own canoe,'” - Billy recited. “I don't believe the old sour-dough has ever been in -love with anything more charming than the goddess of fortune. He's -womanproof.” - -“About Mrs. Jenks,” Dolores continued, abruptly changing the subject. -“How nice to reflect that after she had trusted you and believed in you -when you were penniless, you were enabled to justify her faith.” - -“You bet!” Billy declared. “I feel that I can never possibly hope to -catch even with the old Samaritan, although I did try to show her how -much I appreciated her.” - -“I dare say you went right out and bought her an impossible hat,” - Dolores challenged roguishly. - -“No, I didn't--for a very sufficient reason. Down here the ladies do not -wear hats. But I'll tell you what I did buy her, Miss Ruey--and oh, by -George. I'm glad now I did it. She'll wear them to-morrow when I bring -her to see you. I bought her a new black silk dress and an old lace -collar, and a gold breast-pin and a tortoise-shell hair comb and hired -an open carriage and took her for an evening ride on the Malecon to -listen to the band concert.” - -“Did she like that?” - -“She ate it up,” Billy declared with conviction. “I think it was her -first adventure in democracy.” Billy's pulse was still far from normal -when he reached El Buen Amigo, for he was infused with a strange, -new-found warmth that burned like malarial fever but wasn't. He wasted -no preliminaries on Mother Jenks, but bluntly acquainted her with the -facts in the case. - -Mother Jenks eyed him a moment wildly. “Gord's truth!” she gasped; she -reached for her favourite elixir, but Billy got the bottle first. - -“Nothing doing,” he warned this strange publican. “Mother, you're -funking it--and what would your sainted 'Enery say to that? Do you want -that angel to kiss you and get a whiff of this brandy?” Mother Jenks's -eyes actually popped. “Gor', Willie,” she gasped, “'aven't Hi told yer -she's a lydy! Me kiss the lamb! Hi trusts, Mr. Geary, as ow I knows my -plyce an' can keep it.” - -“Yes, I know,” Billy soothed the frightened old woman, “but the trouble -is Miss Dolores doesn't know hers--and something tells me if she does, -she'll forget it. She'll take you in her arms and kiss you, sure as -death and taxes.” - -And she did! “My lamb, my lamb,” sobbed Mother Jenks the next morning, -and rested her old cheek, with its rum-begotten hue, close to the -rose-tinted ivory cheek of her ward. “Me--wot I am--an' to think------” - -“You're a sweet old dear,” Dolores whispered, patting the gray head; -“and I'm going to call you Mother.” - -“Mr. William H. Geary,” the girl remarked that night, “I know now why -your friend Mr. Webster sent that cablegram. I think you're a scout, -too.” - -[Illustration:ustration: 0125] - -For reasons best known to himself Mr. Geary blushed furiously. “I--I'd -better go and break the news to Mother,” he suggested inanely. She held -out her hand; and Billy, having been long enough in Sobrante to have -acquired the habit, bent his malarial person over that hand and kissed -it. As he went out it occurred to him that had the lobby of the Hotel -Mateo been paved with eggs, he must have floated over them like a -Wraith, so light did he feel within. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -|WEBSTER reached New Orleans at the end of the first leg of his journey, -to discover that in the matter of sailings he was not fortunate. He was -one day late to board the _Atlanta_--a banana boat of the Consolidated -Fruit Company's line plying regularly between New Orleans and that -company's depots at Limon and San Buenaventura--which necessitated a -wait of three days for the steamer _La Estrellita_ of the Caribbean Mail -Line, running to Caracas and way ports. - -This delay annoyed him, for he was the kind of man who, once he has made -up his mind to embark upon a venture, is impatient to be up and doing. -Accordingly, he decided to visit the ticket office of the Caribbean -Mail Line immediately and avoid the rush in case the travel should be -heavy--in which event a delay of an hour might be fatal--for should he -be informed that the space on La Estrellita was entirely sold out, the -knowledge would, he knew, set his reason tottering on its throne. - -The steamship office was in Canal Street. Webster arrived there during -the luncheon hour, due to which fact he found but one clerk on duty -at the ticket counter when he entered. This clerk was waiting on two -well-dressed and palpably low-bred sons of the tropics, to whom he had -just displayed a passenger list which the two were scanning critically. -Their interest in it was so obvious that unconsciously Webster peeped -over their shoulders (no difficult task for one of his stature) and -discovered it to be the passenger list of the steamer La Estrellita. -They were conversing together in low tones and Webster, who had spent -many years of his life following his profession in Mexico, recognized -their speech as the bastard Spanish of the peon. - -The clerk glanced up, caught Webster's eye and nodded to indicate that -he would attend him directly. - -“No hurry, old timer,” Webster told him, with the bluff, free-and-easy -democracy of the man of broad, unkenned horizons. “Just save a place -on that passenger list for my John Hancock when our friends here have -finished with it.” - -He sat down in the long wall seat and waited until the pair, having -completed their scrutiny of the list, turned to pass out. He glanced at -them casually. - -Theirs were faces ordinary enough south of the Rio Grande but not likely -to pass unnoticed in a northern crowd. One was a tall thin man whose -bloodshot eyes were inclined to “pop” a little--infallible evidence in -the Latin-American that he is drinking more hard liquor than is good -for him. He was smooth-shaven, of pronounced Indian type, and wore -considerable expensive jewellery. - -His companion was plainly of the same racial stock, although Webster -suspected him of a slight admixture of negro blood. He was short, -stocky, and aggressive looking; like his companion, bejewelled and -possessed of a thin, carefully cultivated mous, tache that seemed to -consist of about nineteen hairs on one side and twenty on the other. -Evidently once upon a time, as the story books have it, he had been -shot. Webster suspected a Mauser bullet, fired at long range. It had -entered his right cheek, just below the malar, ranged downward through -his mouth and out through a fold of flabby flesh under his left jowl. It -must have been a frightful wound, but it had healed well except at the -point of entrance, where it had a tendency to pucker considerably, thus -drawing the man's eyelid down on his cheek and giving to that visual -organ something of the appearance of a bulldog's. - -Both men observed Webster's swift but intense appraisal of them, and -he of the puckered eye--perhaps because he was the cynosure of that -scrutiny and morbidly sensitive of his facial disfigurement--replied -with a cool, sullen stare that was almost belligerent. - -Webster gazed after them whimsically as he approached the counter. - -“I'd hate to wake up some night and find that _hombre_ with the puckered -eye leaning over me. To what branch of the genus Greaser do those two -horse-thieves belong?” he queried. - -“Central America, I take it,” the clerk answered. “They appear -interested in the names of passengers bound for Caribbean ports. Looking -for a friend, I suppose.” - -“Hardly. I speak their kind of Spanish and a peon doesn't refer to his -friends in the free-and-easy language these fellows employed. By the -way,” he continued, suddenly apprehensive, “do you get much of that -paraqueet travel on your line?” - -“About 80 per cent, of it is off colour, sir.” Webster pondered the -80-per-cent, probability of being berthed in the same stateroom with one -of these people and the prospect was as revolting to him as would be an -uninvited negro guest at the dining table of a southern family. He had -all a Westerner's hatred for the breed. - -“Well, I want a ticket to San Buenaventura,” he informed the clerk, “but -I don't relish the idea of a Greaser in the same stateroom with Me. -I wonder if you couldn't manage to fix me up with a stateroom all to -myself, or at least arrange it so that in the event of company I'll draw -a white man. I can stand a slovenly white man where a clean peon would -be unbearable, although--peon or Caballero--these people are apt to be -tarred with the same stick. I don't care for any of them in mine.” - -“I'm sorry, sir, but I cannot guarantee you absolute privacy nor any -kind of white man. It's pretty mixed travel to all Central American -ports.” - -“How many berths in your first-class staterooms?” - -“Two.” - -Webster smiled brightly. He had found a way out of the difficulty. “I'll -buy 'em both, son,” he announced. - -“I cannot sell you an entire stateroom, sir. It's against the orders of -the company to sell two berths to one man. The travel is pretty brisk -and it's hardly fair to the public, you know.” - -“Well, suppose I buy one ticket for myself and the other for--well, for -my valet, let us say. Of course,” he added brightly, “I haven't engaged -the valet yet and even should I do so I wouldn't be at all surprised if -the rascal missed the boat!” - -The clerk glanced at him with a slow smile, and pondered. “Well,” he -said presently, “it's a poor rule that hasn't its exception, and when it -comes to killing cats, strangulation with a butter-ball isn't the only -method. If you care to buy a ticket for your valet, I'm sure I shouldn't -worry whether or not he catches the boat. If my records show that the -space is sold of two men and the purser collects two tickets, I think -you'll be pretty safe from intrusion.” - -“To the harassed traveller,” said Mr. Webster, “a meeting with a -gentleman of your penetration is as refreshing as a canteen of cool -water in the desert. Shoot!” and he produced a handful of gold. - -“I will--provided I have one empty cabin,” and the clerk turned from the -counter to consult his record of berths already sold and others reserved -but not paid for. Presently he faced Webster at the counter. - -“The outlook is very blue,” he announced. “Every name on the passenger -list has a preponderance of vowels in it. However, I have one berth in -No. 34 reserved by a gentleman who was to call for it by two o'clock -to-day.” He looked at his watch. “It is now a quarter of one. If the -reservation isn't claimed promptly at two o'clock I shall cancel it and -reserve for you both berths in that room. If you will be good enough to -leave me your name and address I will telephone you after that hour. In -the meantime, you may make reservation of the other berth in the same -stateroom. I feel very confident that the reservation in No. 34 will not -be called for, Mr.--er----” - -“Webster--John S. Webster. You are very kind, indeed. I'm at the St. -Charles.” - -“Be there at a quarter after two, Mr. Webster, and you will hear from me -promptly on the minute,” the clerk assured him; whereupon Webster paid -for one berth and departed for his hotel with a feeling that the clerk's -report would be favourable. - -True to his promise, at precisely a quarter after two, the ticket -clerk telephoned Webster at his hotel that the berth in No. 34 had been -cancelled and the entire stateroom was now at his disposal. - -“If you will be good enough to give me the name of your valet,” he -concluded, “it will not be necessary for you to come down for your -tickets, Mr. Webster. I will fill in both names on my passenger manifest -and send the tickets to your hotel by messenger immediately. You can -then sign the tickets--I have already signed them as witness--and pay -the messenger.” - -“Well, I haven't engaged that valet as yet,” Webster began, but the -other interrupted cheerfully: “What's the odds? He's going to miss the -boat, anyhow. All I require is a name.” - -“That ought to be a simple request to comply with. Let me see! If I had -a valet I think I should want him to be called Andrew or Martin.” - -“I read a book once, Mr. Webster, and the valet in that book was called -Andrew Bowers.” - -“Bowers is a fine old English name. Let us seek no further. Andrew -Bowers it is.” - -“Thank you. All you have to do then is to remember to sign the name, -Andrew Bowers, to one ticket. Don't forget your valet's name now, and -ball everything up,” and the clerk hung up, laughing. - -Half an hour later a boy from the steamship office arrived with the -tickets, collected for them, and departed, leaving John Stuart Webster -singularly pleased with himself and at peace with the entire world. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -|A “LARGE” dinner at Antoine's that night (Webster had heard of Antoine's -dinners, both large and small and was resolved not to leave New Orleans -until he had visited the famous restaurant) and a stroll through the -picturesque old French quarter and along the levee next day, helped to -render his enforced stay in New Orleans delightful, interesting, and -instructive. Webster was one of those distinctful individual types to -whom a chamber of horrors would be productive of more enjoyment than the -usual round of “points of interest.” Experience had demonstrated to -him that such points usually are uninteresting and wearing on the -imagination, for the reason that the tourist trappers and proprietors of -automobile 'buses, who map out the tours have no imagination themselves. -Consequently, Webster preferred to prowl around quietly on little tours -of discovery, personally conducted by himself. The search for obscure -restaurants of unquestioned merit was with him almost a mania, and since -in quaint New Orleans the food and drink specialist finds his highest -heaven, no cloud marked the serenity of his delightful peregrinations. - -The next day would be Sunday, and Webster planned an early morning -visit to the old French market, around which still lingers much of the -picturesque charm and colourful romance of a day that is done--that -echo of yesterday, as it were, which has left upon New Orleans an -individuality as distinct as that which the olden, golden, godless days -have left upon San Francisco. - -He rose before six o'clock, therefore; found a taxi, with the driver -sound asleep inside, at the curb in front of the hotel; gave the latter -his instructions, and climbed in. - -It being Sunday morning New Orleans slept late. Save for the few early -morning worshippers hurrying to mass--mostly servants in a hurry to -return to their kitchens and cook breakfast--the streets were deserted. -The languorous air of dawn was redolent of the perfume of orange, rose, -and sweet olive; from the four comers of the old town the mellow chimes -of the Catholic church bells pealed their sweet, insistent call to the -faithful; an atmosphere of subtle peace and sanctity pervaded the silent -streets and awoke in John Stuart Webster's heart a vague nostalgia. - -Perhaps it was because so much of his life had been spent in lonely -mountain or desert camps, or perhaps it was because this taxi ride -through the pleasant southern dawn was so typical of the swift passing -of the youth which had gone from him before he had had an opportunity to -taste, even moderately, of its joys and allurements. He sighed--a little -regretful sigh. - -“That's you, Johnny Webster,” he told himself, “breezing along through -life like a tin-canned dog; f passing the sweet and the beautiful and -battling with the harsh and unlovely; here to-day and gone to-morrow, a -poor harried devil with your trunk on your back, a slave to the call -of gold; restless, in a great hurry to get there and an equal hurry to -leave for the new diggings, and all the time Life passes you by and you -don't grab so much as a tail feather! On such a morn as this Eve entered -the Garden of Eden, while I, consummate idiot, shut myself up in a taxi -to watch a bill of expense run up on the clock, while sniffing myrrh and -incense through this confounded window. I'll get out and walk!” - -He was opposite Jackson Square and the cloying sweetness of palmetto, -palm, and fig burdened the air. Above the rumble of the taxi he could -hear the distant babel of voices in the French market across the square, -so he halted the taxicab, alighted, and handed the driver a bill. - -“I want to explore this square,” he said. He had recognized it by the -heroic statue of General Jackson peeping through the trees. “I'll walk -through the square Up the market, and you may proceed to the market and -meet me there. Later we will return to the hotel.” - -The chauffeur nodded, and Webster, every fibre of his alert, healthy -body once more tingling with the sheer joy of living, entered the -square, found a path that wound its way through the shrubbery, and came -out at length in the main pathway, close to the Jackson memorial statue. - -A Creole girl--starry-eyed, beautiful, rich with the glorious colouring -of her race--passed him bound for the cathedral across the square, as -Webster thought, for she carried a large prayer book on her arm. To -Webster she seemed to fit perfectly into her surroundings, to lend to -them the last, final touch of beauty, the apotheosis of peace, and again -the nostalgic fever submerged the quiet joy with which he had approached -his journey through the square. His glance followed the girl down the -walk. - -Presently she halted. A young man rose from a bench where evidently he -had been waiting for her, and bowed low, his hat clasped to his breast, -as only a Frenchman or a Spanish grandee can bow. Webster saw the Creole -girl turn to him with a little gesture of pleasure. She extended her -hand and the young man kissed it with old-fashioned courtesy. - -John Stuart Webster knew now what was missing in his scheme of things, -as with reverent and wistful eyes he watched their meeting. - -“Forty years old,” he thought, “and I haven't spoken to a dozen women -that caused me a second thought, or who weren't postmistresses or -biscuit shooters! Forty years old and I've never been in love! Spring -time down that little path and Indian summer in my old fool heart. Why, -I ought to be arrested for failure to live!” - -The lovers were walking slowly, arm in arm, back along the path by which -the girl had come, so with a courtesy and gentleness that were innate in -him, Webster stepped out of sight behind the statue of Old Hickory; for -he did not desire, by his mere presence, to intrude a discordant note in -the perfect harmony of those two human hearts. He knew they desired that -sylvan path to themselves; that evidently they had sought their early -morning tryst in the knowledge that the square was likely to be deserted -at this hour. Therefore, to provoke selfconsciousness in them now -savoured to John Stuart Webster of a high crime and misdemeanour, for -which reason he was careful to keep General Jackson between himself and -the lovers until they had gone by. - -The young man was speaking as they passed; his voice was rich, pleasant, -vibrant with the earnestness of what he had to say: with a pretty little -silver-mounted walking stick he slashed at spears of grass alongside the -path; the girl was crying a little. Neither of them had seen him, so he -entered a path that led from them at right angles. - -He had proceeded but a few feet along this trail when, through a break -in the shrubbery ahead of him, he saw two men. They were crossing -Webster's path and following a course paralleling that of the lovers in -the broad main walk. Brief as was his glimpse of them, however, Webster -instantly recognized the two Central Americans he had seen in the -steamship ticket office two days previous. - -They were not walking as walk two men abroad at this hour for a -constitutional. Neither did they walk as walk men churchward bound. A -slight, skulking air marked their progress, and caused Webster to wonder -idly what they were stalking. - -He turned into the path down which the two men had passed, not with the -slightest idea of shadowing them, but because his destination lay in -that direction. The Central Americans were approximately fifty yards -in advance of him as he turned in their wake, and at sight of them his -suspicion that they were stalking something was quickened into belief. - -Both men had forsaken the gravelled path and were walking on the soft -velvet of blue grass lawn that fringed it! - -“Perhaps I'd better deaden my hoof beats also,” John Stuart Webster -soliloquized, and followed suit immediately. - -He had scarcely done so when the men ahead of him paused abruptly. -Webster did likewise, and responding--subconsciously, perhaps, to the -remembrance of the menace in the glance of the man with the puckered -eye--he stepped out of sight behind a broad oak tree. Through the -trees and shrubbery he could still see the lovers, who had halted and -evidently were about to part. - -Webster saw the young man glance warily about; then, apparently -satisfied there was none to spy upon them, he drew the girl gently -toward him. She clung to him for nearly a minute, sobbing; then he -raised her face tenderly, kissed her, pressed her from him, and walked -swiftly away without looking back. - -It was a sweet and rather touching little tableau; to John Stuart -Webster, imaginative and possessed of a romantic streak in his nature, -it was more than a tableau. It was a moving picture! - -“I suppose her old man objects to the young fellow,” he muttered to -himself sympathetically, “and he can't come near the house. They've met -here for the fond farewell, and now the young fellow's going out West -to make his fortune, so he can come back and claim the girl. Huh! If he -wants her, why the devil doesn't he take her? I'd tell her old man I'd -picked on him for my father-in-law, and then if he didn't like me I'd -let the old fellow rave; and see how much good it would do him. But the -French are different; they always let the old folks step in and rock the -boat----- Hello! By Judas priest! Now I know what those two paraqueets -are up to. One of them is the father of that girl. They've been spying -on the lovers, and now they're going to corner the young fellow and -shingle him for his nerve.” - -The girl had stood for a moment, gazing after her companion, before she -turned with her handkerchief to her eyes, and continued on her way to -the cathedral. Webster had observed that the two men ahead of him paid -no attention to her, but pressed eagerly forward after the man. - -Webster could look across about thirty yards of low shrubbery at the -girl as she passed. He heard her sobbing as she stumbled blindly by, and -he was distressed about her, for all the world loves a lover and John -Stuart Webster was no exception to this universal rule. - -“By George, this is pretty tough,” he reflected. “That young fellow -treated that girl with as much gentleness and courtesy as any gentleman -should, and I'm for him and against this idea of corporal punishment. -Don't you worry, Tillie, my dear. I'm going to horn into this game -myself if it goes too far.” - -The two dusky skulkers ahead of him, having come to another crosspath, -turned into it and came out on the main path in the rear of the young -man. Webster noticed that they were walking twice as fast as when he had -first observed them, and more than ever convinced that presently there -might be work for a strong man and true, he hastened after them. - -As he came out into the main walk again, he noticed that the pair were -still walking on the grass. He padded gently along behind them. - -The four were now rapidly approaching the old French market, and the -steadily rising babel of voices speaking in French, Italian, Spanish, -Creole patois and Choctaw, was sufficient to have drowned the slight -noise of the pursuit, even had the young man's mind not been upon other -things, and the interest of the two Central Americans centred upon their -quarry, to the exclusion, of any thought of possible interruption. - -Webster felt instinctively that the two men would rush and make a -concerted attack from the rear. He smiled. - -“I'll just fool you two _hombres_ a whole lot,” he thought, and -stooping, picked up a small stone. On the instant the two men, having -approached within thirty feet of their quarry, made a rush for him. - -Their charge was swift, but swift though it was, the little stone which -John Stuart Webster hurled was swifter. It struck the young man fairly -between the shoulderblades with a force sufficient to bring him out of -his sentimental reverie with a jerk, as it were. He whirled, saw the -danger that threatened him, and--sprang to meet it. - -“Bravo!” yelled Webster, and ran to his aid, for he had seen now that it -was to be knife work. Tragedy instead of melodrama. - -The man with the puckered eye closed in with such eagerness it was -apparent to Webster that here was work to his liking. The young man -raised his light cane, but Pucker-eye did not hesitate. He merely threw -up his left forearm to meet the expected blow aimed at his head, lunged -forward and slashed viciously at the young man's abdomen. The latter -drew back a step, doubled like a jack-knife, and brought his cane down -viciously across the knuckles of his assailant's right hand. - -“So it is thou, son of a pig,” he called pleasantly in Spanish. “I -fooled you that time, didn't I?” he added in English. “Thought I would -aim for your head, didn't you?” - -The blow temporarily paralyzed the assassin's hand; he dropped the -knife, and as he stooped to recover it with his left hand, the young -man, before retreating from Pop-eye, kicked Pucker-eye in the face and -quite upset him. - -“Stop it!” shouted Webster. - -Pop-eye turned his head at the outcry. The man he was attacking fell -into the position of a swordsman en garde, and thrust viciously with -the ferule at the face of the pop-eyed man, who, disregarding Webster's -approach, seized the cane in his left hand and with a quick, powerful -tug actually drew his victim toward him a foot before the latter let go -the stick. - -Before he could give ground again Pop-eye was upon him. He grasped the -young man by the latter's left arm and held him, while he drew back for -the awful disembowelling stroke; as his long arm sped forward the hook -of John Stuart Webster's heavy cane descended upon that flexed arm in -the brook of the elbow, snagging it cleverly. - -The knife never reached its destination! - -“You would, would you?” said Webster reproachfully, and jerked the -fellow violently around. The man he had rescued promptly struck Pop-eye -a terrible blow in the face with his left hand and broke loose from the -grip that had so nearly been his undoing; whereupon Webster tapped the -assassin a meditative tap or two on the top of his sinful head for good -measure and to awaken in him some sense of the impropriety and futility -of resistance, after which Webster turned to discuss a similar question -of ethics with Pucker-eye. - -The scar-cheeked man was on his knees, groping groggily for his knife, -for he had received a severe kick under the chin, and for the nonce was -far from dangerous. Stooping, Webster picked up the knife; then with -knife and cane grasped in his left hand he seized Pucker-eye by the nape -with his right and jerked him to his feet. The assassin stood glowering -at him in a perfect frenzy of brutish, inarticulate fury. - -“Take the knife away from the other fellow before he gets active again,” - Webster called over his shoulder. “I'll manage this rascal. We'll march -them over to the market and turn them over to the police.” He spoke in -Spanish. - -“Thanks, ever so much, for my life,” the young man answered lightly, and -in English, “but where I come from it is not the fashion to settle -these arguments in a court of law. To call an officer is considered -unclublike; to shoot a prisoner in this country is considered murder, -and consequently I have but one alternative and I advise you, my good -friend, to have a little of the same. I'm going to run like the devil.” - -And he did. He was in full flight before Webster could glance around, -and in an instant he was lost to sight among the trees. - -“That advice sounds eminently fair and reasonable,” Webster yelled after -him, and was about to follow when he observed that the young man had -abandoned his pretty little silver-chased walking stick. - -“That's too nice a little stick to leave to these brigands,” he thought, -and forthwith possessed himself of it and the pop-eyed man's knife, -after which he tarried not upon the order of his going but went, -departing at top speed. - -The young man he had saved from being butchered was right. An entangling -alliance with the police was, decidedly, not to John Stuart Webster's -liking, for should, he, unfortunately, form such an alliance, he would -be haled into court as a witness and perhaps miss the steamer to San -Buenaventura. - -“Drat it,” he soliloquized, as he emerged from the square and observed -his taxi parked at the entrance to the market, “I came through that -square so fast I haven't the slightest idea what the last half of it -looks like. That's what I get for mixing in a little Donnybrook that's -none of my business.” - -He had planned to spend an hour in the market, drink a cup of _café -noir_, smoke a cigarette, and return to his hotel in time for a -leisurely breakfast, but his recent bout with grim reality had blunted -the edge of romance. He ordered his driver to take him back to the -hotel, sprang inside and congratulated himself on his lucky escape. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -|WEBSTER'S trunk went aboard the steamer early the following morning, -and at noon he entered a taxi with his hand baggage and was driven to -the levee where _La Estrellita_ lay tugging gently at her mooring lines. -Owing to the congestion of freight and traffic the chauffeur stopped his -cab a little distance from the gangplank, where Webster discharged him -with a liberal tip. - -The latter, however, swung his passenger's bag and suitcase to the -ground, picked them up and started for the gangplank. - -“Never mind my baggage, lad,” Webster called after him. “One of the deck -boys will care for it.” The chauffeur turned. “You've been very generous -with me, sir,” he answered, “so I think I had better carry your baggage -aboard. If you permit a deck boy to handle it, you merely have to give -another tip, and that would be sheer wanton waste. Why shouldn't I earn -the one you gave me?” - -“I hadn't figured it out that way, son, so here's another half dollar -for being the only existing specimen of your species in captivity. My -stateroom is No. 34, upper deck, port side,” Webster answered, smiling. -The man took the tip eagerly and hurried toward the gangplank; the -quartermaster on duty shouldered a way for him and he darted aboard? - -Webster followed leisurely. At the gangplank the purser's clerk halted -him, examined his tickets and punched them. - -“Where is the other man?” he asked. “You have two tickets here.” - -“Oh, that blamed valet of mine,” Webster answered, and glanced around as -if in search of that mythical functionary. “It would be like the stupid -fellow to miss the boat,” he added. “When he comes----” - -Webster ceased speaking abruptly. He was looking straight into the -malevolent orbs of Pucker-eye, who was standing just behind the clerk at -the foot of the gangplank. - -“I wonder if Popeye's around, also,” Webster thought, and he faced -about. Pop-eye was standing in back of him, leaning over the railing of -the gangway. - -“Which is the valet?” the purser's clerk asked, scanning the names on -the tickets. - -“Andrew Bowers.” - -“All right, Mr. Webster,” the other answered, with that genial -camaraderie that seems inseparable from all of his calling. “When Andrew -comes I'll send him aboard.” - -He started to pass the tickets back to Webster, but a detaining hand -rested on his arm, while a dark thumb and forefinger lifted the trailing -strips of tickets. Pucker-eye was examining them also. - -He sent his elbow backward violently into Pucker-eye's midriff and shook -him off roughly. - -“What do you mean, you black-and-tan hound?” he demanded. “Since when -did you begin to O. K. my work?” - -Pucker-eye made no reply to this stern reproof. He accepted the elbow -with equanimity, and faced Webster with an evil smile that indicated -mutual recognition. - -“Bueno,” he said, with such genuine satisfaction that Webster could not -help demanding: - -“_Por que es bueno?_ (Why is it good?)” - -“We meet the senor first in the teeket office. We meet the senor again -yesterday morning, no? After, we remember we have meet the senor in the -teeket office! _Quien sabe?_ The senor he ees sail on _La Estrellita_ -for San Buenaventura, no?” - -“So you came nosing around to see about it, eh? Doing a little plain -gumshoe work, I see.” - -Pucker-eye bowed. By the simple exercise of courage and bad manners he -had looked at John Stuart Webster's ticket and was now familiar with his -name and destination. - -The object of this solicitude had little difficulty in guessing the -reason behind it all, and he was not happy. He would have preferred that -the incident of their former meeting should not be held against him; he -wished most devoutedly that his part in the ruction in Jackson Square -on Sunday morning might have been forgotten by all concerned, and this -revival of the unpleasant episode was slightly disconcerting. - -As a usual thing he was loth to interject himself in the affairs of -other people, and had a deep-seated animosity against those who did; he -would have preferred to round out his existence without having to take -into consideration the presence of a twin Nemesis. However, since the -fat was in the fire, so to speak, Webster felt that there was nothing -for him to do save brazen things out as best he could, so he glowered -darkly at Pucker-eye and said: - -“Well, you scoundrelly cutthroat, what are you going to do about it? Try -a little of your knife work on me, I suppose?” - -Pucker-eye did not answer, but his beady glance wavered and shifted -before the cool, contemptuous menace of Webster's blue eyes. - -“Listen, _hombre_,” Webster continued. “I know your kind of people like -a nigger knows cologne. I know what you'd like to do to me in exchange -for what I did to you yesterday morning, but you take a tip from me and -don't try it, or one of these days they'll be walking slow behind you -and your _companero_, and you won't know it!” - -The fellow grinned--the kind of grin that is composed of equal parts -of ferocity and knowledge of superior strength. That grin did more to -disconcert Webster than the knowledge that he had earned for himself two -bloodthirsty and implacable enemies, for Pucker-eye was the first of -his breed that Webster had ever seen smile under insult. That cool smile -infuriated him. - -Pucker-eye took out a cigarette case, selected a cigarette, and -presented the case to Webster. His bad manners in selecting his -own cigarette first was deliberate, as Webster knew. It was the -Latin-American's method of showing his contempt. - -“We shall meet again, Meester Webstaire,” he said. “May I offer the -senor a cigarette for the--what you Americans call--the keepsake? No?” - He smiled brightly and closed his puckered eye in a knowing wink. - -Webster took his tickets from the purser, folded them, placed them in -his pocket and for a few seconds regarded Pucker-eye contemptuously. - -“When we meet again, you scum,” he retorted quietly, “you shall have no -difficulty in remembering me. You may keep your cigarette.” - -His long, powerful right arm shot out; like a forceps his thumb and -forefinger closed over Pucker-eve's rather flat nose; he squeezed, and -with a shrill scream of agony Pucker-eye went to his knees. - -Still holding the wretch by his proboscis, Webster turned quickly in -order that his face might be toward Pop-eye. - -“Pop-eye,” he said, “if you take a hand in this, I'll twist your nose, -too, and afterward I'll throw you in the river.” - -He turned to Pucker-eye. - -“Up, thou curious little one,” he said in Spanish, and jerked the -unhappy rascal to his feet. The latter clawed ineffectually at the -terrible arm which held him, until, presently discovering that the -harder he struggled the harder Webster pinched his nose, he ceased his -struggles and hung limply, moaning with pain and rage in the grip of the -American. - -“Good!” Webster announced, slacking his grip a little. With his left -hand he deftly extracted a hair from each flank of the screaming -little scoundrel's scant moustache, and held them before the latter's -tear-filled eyes. - -“My friend,” he said gently, “mark how the gringo gives his little dark -brother a lesson in deportment. Behold, if I have given thee a souvenir -of our meeting, I also have taken one. By this pinched and throbbing -nose shall I be remembered when I am gone; by these hairs from thy rat's -moustache shall I remember thee. Go, and thrust not that nose into a -gringo's business again. It is unsafe.” - -He released Pucker-eye, nodded brightly to the purser's clerk and -quartermaster, who, spellbound and approving, had watched him mete out -retribution according to his code, and went aboard, just as an -assistant steward came hurrying along the deck beating a lusty solo on a -triangle--the signal for all non-passengers to go ashore. - -Webster made his way through the crowd to his room, looked in, saw that -his baggage was there, and walked around on the starboard side to join -in the general farewell of all on board to the crowd on the levee. - -At the shore end of the gangplank Pucker-eye and Pop-eye still waited. -The unfortunate Pucker-eye was weeping with pain and futile rage and -humiliation, but Webster noticed that Pop-eye's attention was not on -his friend but upon each passenger that boarded the ship, of which there -were the usual number of late arrivals. As each passenger approached, -Pop-eye scanned him with more than casual interest. - -Webster smiled. “Looking for that valet they heard me talking about,” he -reflected. “Pop-eye, you're a fine, capable lad. I thought you had the -brains of the two. You're not going away until you've had a chance to -size up the reinforcements at my command, are you?” - -Promptly at one o'clock the captain mounted the bridge and ordered the -gangplank drawn ashore. The breastline was cast off; with a long-drawn -bellow from her siren the wheel of _La Estrellita_ commenced to churn -the muddy water and her bow swung gently outboard, while the stern line -acted as a spring. With the stern line slackened and cast overboard the -vessel pushed slowly out into the stream where the current caught her -and swung her in a wide arc. Webster watched Pucker-eye and Pop-eye -leave the landing arm in arm. Pop-eye was sporty enough to wave at him, -and Webster, not to be outdone in kind, waved back. - -He lighted a cigar and leaned over the rail as the steamer, gathering -speed, swept down river. - -“Good-bye, you golden fizz and chicken gumbo,” he called, as the city -receded and the low, wooded shores below the city came into view. He had -forgotten Pucker-eye and Pop-eye in the flood of poignant regret that -swept over him at the memory of the peerless Antoine! - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -|WHEN he had finished his cigar he cast the stump overboard, watched it -until it disappeared astern, and then went around to state-room No. -34. As he stepped in, and closed the door a masculine voice said very -pleasantly: - -“How do you do?” - -Mr. Webster looked up and beheld a young man, arrayed in a very fancy -pair of light blue silk pyjamas, stretched at his ease in the upper -berth. In his right hand he held an open book; his left hand grasped his -bare right foot, which he was rubbing comfortably; in his mouth he held -an aromatic Turkish cigarette. He was very much at home, no doubt of -that, for he was smiling in the friendliest fashion imaginable. - -John Stuart Webster stared at the stranger for several seconds and -concluded he was invading the sanctity of another's stateroom. “Excuse -me,” he said, “I guess I'm in the right church but the wrong pew,” - and he stepped out and looked for the number on the stateroom. To -his surprise it _was_ No. 34 after all, so he stepped back into the -stateroom and favoured the stranger with another scrutiny. - -“It does appear to me, my friend,” he said presently, “that I detect -something strangely familiar about your pyjamas.” - -“I wouldn't be the least bit surprised, Mr. Webster. I found them in -your suitcase.” - -“Well, how do you do?” Webster declared. “Pretty well, all things -considered. May I offer you one of your own cigarettes? I found them in -the suitcase also, and can recommend them highly.” - -“Thank you very much.” Webster helped himself to a cigarette and sat -down on the settee. Fell a silence of perhaps half a minute. Then: - -“I dislike to appear inquisitive,” Webster began, “but the fact is, -neighbour, I'm curious to know where you got that book. I observe you -are reading Samuel Butler's 'Way of all Flesh,' and that the book is -slightly damaged. Recently I purchased such a book in----” - -“Pray do not take the trouble to explain,” the other answered airily. “I -discovered this excellent book in your suitcase also. In fact, for me, -that suitcase has proved to be a repository of treasures.” John Stuart -Webster's neck came out of his collar with the suddenness of a turtle -snapping at a fly; he drew himself up beside the top berth until his -face was on a level with his unbidden guest's, upon whom he bent a look -of mingled emotions. On his part the stranger returned his gaze with -grave interest, and when the silence threatened to become embarrassing -he said: - -“Will you have the goodness to press that button? I think we should -drink a bumper to our better acquaintance and I have no doubt but that -the barkeeper on this packet can manufacture a golden fizz. Do you care -for the famous New Orleans golden fizz?” - -“It is a wonderful institution,” Webster replied, “and I'll have one. -I need it to sustain me, for I am faint with amazement.” He pressed the -button. “'While the golden fizz is fizzing,” he continued, “suppose you -let me have a look at your ticket.” - -“Ticket?” echoed his visitor. “I haven't any ticket. A kind gentleman -bought one for me and has it in his possession. Do you, sir, by any -chance, happen to be that philanthropic individual?” - -“Well, I'll be----” - -“Hush!” the stranger warned, raising an admonitory finger. “No -profanity, please. I have been tenderly reared and cuss words will -only shock me and clog the atmosphere. I'm here to do you and do you -a delicate brown, so bear up, kind sir, and take your walloping like a -sport.” - -“Who the devil are you?” John Stuart Webster demanded. - -“I regret I have no card, but even if I had it would be no kindness to -inflict upon an American gentleman the cognomen my parents honoured me -with, for it is long and many-jointed, like a peanut, and embodies the -names of all the saints in the calendar. Moreover, just at present I am -travelling under an alias. I am known as Mr. Andrew Bowers.” - -“And your occupation?” Webster managed to articulate. - -“Valet de chambre to that prince of gentlemen, Mr. John S. Webster,” the -other replied with a mischievous gleam in his dark eyes. - -Mr. Webster sat down limply on the settee. He was undecided whether -to roar with laughter or shriek with rage; while he struggled for a -decision Andrew Bowers blew smoke rings at the ceiling. - -“Haven't I seen you before?” Webster queried presently. - -“I wouldn't be surprised. I drove you down to the steamer in a taxi half -an hour ago. You will recall that the taxi driver carried your luggage -aboard.” - -Webster gazed around the stateroom. “Where have you hidden your livery?” - he demanded. - -“I wrapped it in a newspaper; then, seeking a moment when the deck -outside was deserted, I stepped forth in my--I beg your pardon, -your--pyjamas and tossed it overboard.” - -“But apparently you did not bring aboard with you a suit of clothes to -take the place of your livery?” - -“Quite true--lamentably so, Mr. Webster. Perhaps you will accept my -desperate need as an excuse for borrowing your pyjamas. I notice you -have another suit of them. Fortunate man!” - -When confronted by something mysterious it was not John Stuart's habit -to ask innumerable questions, and for the space of two minutes he gave -himself up to deduction and a close scrutiny of his companion. - -Andrew Bowers was a man of perhaps thirty years, five feet ten inches -tall, and apparently in excellent health. He might have weighed a -hundred and seventy pounds and he was undeniably handsome. His head -was nobly formed and covered with thick, wavy hair, shiny and black as -ebony; his eyes were dark blue; the eyebrows, thick but fine and silky, -almost met over the bridge of a thin, high nose that was just a trifle -too long for his face. Webster decided it was the nose of a thinker. -Andrew Bowers's forehead was broad and high and his head was thick -forward of the ears, infallible sign of brains; his mouth and chin -were full of determination, although capable of a smile of singular -sweetness; while the skin on his legs was milk-white, his hands and face -were tanned to the colour of a manzanita stick, seeming to indicate that -he had lived an outdoor life. - -While Webster was wondering whether his companion was merely a -high-class tramp or an absconding bank cashier, a knock sounded on the -stateroom door. He opened it and the purser stood in the entrance. - -“Tickets, please?” he announced. - -Webster surrendered both tickets, receiving in turn two seat checks for -the dining saloon, and the purser passed on to the next cabin. - -Andrew Bowers smiled a small, prescient smile, but said nothing and -presently John Stuart Webster broke the silence. “Well,” he ordered -“sing the song or tell the story.” - -“I noticed you surrendered my ticket to the purser,” the young man -answered irrelevantly, “and I am glad of that. I take it as _prima -facie_ evidence that you have made up your mind to accept my company.” - -“You're too infernally cool and cocksure, my friend,” Webster warned him -testily. “I pride myself on a sense of humour and I dearly love a joke -until it's carried too far, but be advised in time, young man, and don't -try to play horse with me. I haven't made up my mind to accept your -company, although, provided you do not rub my fur the wrong way, I may -decide to put up with you, for whether you are a decayed gentleman or -an engaging scoundrel, you are, at least, intelligent and impressive, -clean, white, resourceful, and pleasant. However, my acceptance or -non-acceptance of you is a subject for future discussion, since at -present we have some fiduciary matters before us. You owe me fifty -dollars for your ticket, Andrew Bowers, and in view of the fact that I -never saw you before to-day, suppose we start the voyage by squaring the -account.” - -Andrew Bowers sat up in the berth and let his legs drape over the side. -“Mr. Webster,” he began seriously, “had I sung my song or told my story -before you surrendered that ticket to the purser I might have found -myself in a most embarrassing predicament. If, prior to the arrival -of the purser to collect the tickets, you had handed my ticket to me, -saying: 'Here is your ticket, Mr. Bowers. Be kind enough to reimburse me -to the extent of fifty dollars,' I should have been compelled to admit -then, as I do now, that I haven't fifty dollars. Fortunately for me, -however, you surrendered the ticket to the purser before acquainting -yourself with the state of my fortunes; the voyage has commenced and -whether you like it or not, my dear sir, I am your guest from now until -we reach San Buenaventura. Rather an interesting situation, don't you -think?” - -John Stuart Webster was of Scotch ancestry. He had an hereditary regard -for his baubees. He was a business man. Prodigal spender though he was -and generous to a fault, the fact remained that he always made it a -point to get value received, and he was prodigal with his own money; he -preferred that the privilege of prodigality with the Websterian funds -should remain an inalienable prerogative of the sole surviving member -of the Webster family. He gazed contemplatively now upon his -devil-may-care, unbidden guest, torn between a desire to whisk him out -of the berth and shake him until his teeth fell out, and another to be -just and patient, in the hope that some great extenuating circumstance -might be adduced to account for this impudent daylight robbery. Mr. -Webster had been deluded, cheated, robbed, and pillaged many a time and -oft in the course of his rather eventful career, but he had yet to -meet the man who, having swindled him out of fifty dollars, had the -effrontery to add insult to injury by exhibiting a perfectly obvious -intention of making him like it. Indeed, John Stuart Webster was -obsessed with a secret fear that the smiling bandit in the upper berth -was going to succeed in his nefarious design, and, in the contemplation -of this unheard-of _contretemps_, the genial John was struck temporarily -speechless. - -“The last cent I had in the world went to that taxi person whose taxi I -borrowed and whose old uniform I purchased,” Andrew Bowers supplemented -his confession. - -“You asked me to ring for two golden fizzes,” Webster reproached him. -“Am I to be stuck for the drinks? Not satisfied with rooking me for a -first-class passage to San Buenaventura you plan to tack on extras, eh?” - -“Oh, I'll pay for the drinks,” Andrew Bowers assured him. - -“How can you, if you gave your last cent to that taxi driver?” - -“You tipped me very liberally for carrying your baggage aboard,” Andrew -Bowers retorted slyly. - -“Ouch!” cried Mr. Webster, and laughed. The very next instant he was -provoked at himself for having done so. That laugh gave the brigand -Andrew a decided advantage, for it placed Webster on defensive ground. -He was convinced of this when the brigand said: - -“Thanks for that laugh, Mr. Webster. It arouses hope in my sad heart. I -have outraged your patience, your privacy, and your pocketbook--yet you -laughed. _Bueno_. I will be equally good-natured and forgive you for -questioning my sincerity in the matter of dispensing my hospitality; -even the little slur cast on my veracity in the matter of my finances -shall pass unnoticed.” - -“I think you're too cool, young man,” Webster retorted. “Just a trifle -too cocksure. Up to the present moment you have proffered no evidence -why you should not be adjudged a cad, and I do not like cads and must -decline to permit one to occupy the same stateroom at my expense. You -are clever and amusing and I laughed at you, but at the same time -my sense of humour is not so great as to cause me to overlook your -impudence and laugh with you. Now, if you have anything to say, say it -quickly, because you're going to go away from here--in a hurry.” - -“I plead guilty to the indictment, Mr. Webster, and submit as an excuse -the fact that desperate circumstances require desperate measures. I am -not begging my way, neither am I beating it, for the reason that both -forms of travel are repugnant to me. I am merely taking advantage of -certain fortuitous circumstances to force you, an entire stranger, to -extend to me a credit of fifty dollars until we reach San Buenaventura -when you will be promptly reimbursed. I had thought,” he added sadly, -“that my face might prove ample security for a fifty-dollar loan. There -has never been a crook in my family and I have never been charged with a -penal offence or been in jail.” - -“It is not my habit,” Webster retorted stiffly, “to extend credit to -strangers who demand it.” - -“I do not demand it, sir. I beg it of you, and because I cannot afford -to be refused I took care to arrange matters so that you would not be -likely to refuse my request. Really, I do not mean to be cocksure and -impudent, but before you throw me out I'd like to let you in on a secret -about yourself.” - -“Well?” - -“You're not going to throw me out.” - -“Why not?” - -“Because you can't.” - -“That's fighting talk. Now, just to prove to you the depth of error -in which you flounder, young man, I am about to throw you out.” And he -grasped Andrew Bowers in the grip of a grizzly bear and whisked him out -of the top berth. - -“Wait one second,” his helpless victim cried. “I have something to say -before you go any further.” - -“Say it,” Webster ordered. “Your tongue is the only part of you that I -cannot control.” - -“When you throw me out on deck,” Andrew Bowers queried, “do your pyjamas -go with me? Does the hair go with the hide?” - -“They cost me sixteen dollars in Salt Lake City, but--good lord, yes. -I can't throw you out mother naked; damn it, I can't throw you out at -all.” - -“Didn't I tell you so? Be a good fellow and turn me loose.” - -“Certainly--for the time being. You'll stay locked in this stateroom -while I have a talk with the captain. He'll probably dig up a shirt, a -pair of dungarees, and some old shoes for you and set you ashore before -we get out of the river. If he doesn't do that he'll keep you aboard and -you'll shovel coal for your passage.” - -“But I'm Andrew Bowers and the purser has collected my first-class -ticket!” - -“What of it? I shall declare--and with truth--that you are not Andrew -Bowers, that you are not my valet, and that I did not buy the ticket for -you. I dare you to face the captain in my pyjamas and prove you aren't a -stowaway.” - -“You would win on that point,” the baffling guest admitted, “but it is -a point you will not raise. Why? Because I have another trump up my -kimono.” He climbed back into the upper berth and from that vantage -point gazed down benevolently upon John Stuart Webster. “I'm -disappointed in you,” he continued sadly. “I thought you'd show a -little normal human curiosity about me--and you haven't. You do not -ask questions or I could explain, while I cannot volunteer information -without seeming to seek your pity, and that course would be repugnant -to me. I have never shovelled coal, although I daresay I could manage to -earn my passage as a stoker; indeed, I daresay I shall have to, if you -insist on being belligerent, and if you insist I shall not oppose you. I -am hoping, however, that you will not insist, but that you will, on -the contrary, accept my word of honour that you shall be reimbursed two -hours after you land in San Buenaventura.” - -“New music to your song, my friend, but the same old words,” Webster -retorted, and stepped to the stateroom door. “You're doomed to shovel -coal or go ashore.” - -“Listen. If I go ashore, your responsibility for my life ceases, Mr. -Webster, but if the chief engineer happens to be short one coal-passer -and the captain sends me down to the stokehole, your responsibility for -my death begins, for I'll be put ashore publicly at San Buenaventura -and two hours later I'll be facing a firing squad in the cemetery of the -Catedrâl de la Vera Cruz.” - -“Gosh,” John Stuart Webster murmured dazedly, “I'm afraid I can't take a -chance like that for fifty dollars.” - -A knock sounded on the door and Webster opened it. A waiter stood in the -entrance. “Did you ring, sir?” he queried. - -“I did,” replied John Stuart Webster. “Bring up two glasses and a quart -of the best wine aboard the ship.” - -The waiter hastened away and Webster turned to face the little, cryptic, -humorous smile that made his travelling companion so singularly boyish -and attractive. - -“You win, son,” Webster declared. “I'm whipped to a frazzle. Any time -I'm sitting in back of a royal flush and the other fellow bluffs me out -of the pot, I always buy the wine. When it arrives we shall drink to our -better acquaintance. Pending its arrival, please be advised that you are -welcome to my pyjamas, my cigarettes, my book, and my stateroom. You -are my guest and you owe me nothing, except, perhaps, your confidence, -although I do not insist upon that point. Where I come from every man -kills his own snakes.” - -And he held up his hand for Andrew Bowers to shake. - -“Mr. Webster,” the latter declared feelingly, “I am not a lord of -language, so I cannot find words to thank you. I agree with you that you -are entitled to my confidence. My name is----” - -“Tut, tut, my boy. Your name is Andrew Bowers, and that identifies -you sufficiently for the time being. Your face is a guaranty of your -character and entitles you to a nominal credit.” - -“But----” - -“Make me no buts. I care not who you are; perhaps what I do not know -will not distress me. When I suggested that I was entitled to a measure -of your confidence, I meant on a few minor points only--points on which -my curiosity has been abnormally aroused.” - -“Very well, my friend. Fire away.” - -“Are you an American citizen?” - -“No, I am a citizen of Sobrante.” - -“You have assured me that you are not a crook; consequently I know you -are not fleeing from the United States authorities. You had no money to -pay for your passage to San Buenaventura so you schemed to make me pay -your way. Hence I take it that your presence in the capital of your -native country is a matter of extreme importance and that the clerk in -the ticket office of the Caribbean Mail Line is a friend of yours.” - -“Quite true. He knew my need.” - -“You were under surveillance and could not leave New Orleans for San -Buenaventura unless you left secretly. When I purchased both berths in -this stateroom and the ticket clerk knew I held a firstclass ticket for -a valet that was not, he decided to saw off on me a valet that was. So -he gave you my name and the name of my hotel, you arranged matters -with the taxi starter and the taxi driver and drove me to the steamer. -Disguised in the livery of a chauffeur and carrying hand baggage you -hoped to get aboard without being detected by your enemies who watched -the gangplank.” - -Andrew Bowers nodded. - -“Do you think you succeeded?” Webster continued. - -“I do not know, Mr. Webster. I hope so. If I did not--well, the instant -this steamer drops anchor in the roadstead at San Buenaventura, she will -be boarded and searched by the military police, I will be discovered -and----” He shrugged. - -“Lawn party in the cemetery, eh?” Webster suggested. - -Andrew Bowers reached under his pillow and produced two heavy automatic -pistols and a leathern box containing five clips of cartridges. These -he exhibited in silence and then thrust them back under the pillow. - -“I see, Andrew. In case you're cornered, eh? Well, I think I would -prefer to die fighting myself. However, let us hope you will not have to -face any such unpleasant alternative.” - -“I'm not worried, Mr. Webster. Somehow, I think I ran the gauntlet -safely.” - -“But why did you throw your livery overboard?” - -“It was of no further use to me. A chauffeur on shipboard would be most -incongruous, and the sight of the livery hanging on yonder peg would be -certain to arouse the curiosity of the room steward. And I'm not going -to appear on deck throughout the voyage, might meet somebody who knows -me.” - -“But you'll have to have some clothes in which to go ashore, you amazing -man.” - -“Not at all. The steamer will arrive in the harbour of San Buenaventura -late in the afternoon--too late to be given pratique that day. After -dark I shall drop overboard and endeavour to swim ashore, and in view of -that plan clothes would only prove an embarrassment. I shall land in my -own country naked and penniless, but once ashore I shall quickly find -shelter. I'll have to risk the sharks, of course.” - -“Man-eaters?” - -“The bay is swarming with them.” - -“You're breaking my heart,” Webster declared sympathetically. “I suppose -you're going to feign illness throughout the voyage.” - -“Not the land of illness that will interfere with my appetite. I have -prescribed for myself a mild attack of inflammatory rheumatism, as an -excuse for remaining in bed and having my meals brought to me. This -service, of course, will necessitate some slight expense in the way of -tips, but I am hoping you will see your way clear to taking care of that -for your guest.” - -Silently Webster handed Andrew Bowers ten dollars in silver. “That ought -to hold you,” he declared. “For the rest, you're up to some political -skullduggery in Sobrante, and what it is and what's your real name are -two subjects in which I am not interested. I am on a vacation and intend -to amuse myself. If I find you as amusing as you appear at the outset -of our acquaintance I shall do my best to break the tedium of your -confinement in this stateroom and if I find you dull I shall leave you -to your own devices. Let us talk anything but business and personalities -and let it be understood that you are my valet, Andrew Bowers. That's -all I know about you and that's all I care to know about you. In fact, -the less I know about you the less will I have to explain in the event -of your sudden demise.” - -“Fair enough,” quoth Andrew Bowers. “You're a man after my own heart. I -thank you.” - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -|PRIOR to leaving New Orleans, Webster had cabled Billy Geary that he -was taking passage on _La Estrellita_ and stating the approximate date -of his arrival at San Buenaventura--which information descended upon -that young man with something of the charm of a gentle rainfall over a -hitherto arid district. He had been seeing Dolores Ruey at least once -a day ever since her return to Sobrante; indeed, only the fear that he -might wear out his welcome prevented him from seeing her twice a day. He -was quick, therefore, to seize upon Webster's cablegram as an excuse -to call upon Dolores and explain the mystery surrounding his friend's -nonappearance. - -“Well, Dolores,” he began, in his excitement calling her by her first -name for the first time, “they say it's a long lane that hasn't got a -saloon at the end of it. I've heard from Jack Webster.” - -“What's the news, Bill?” Dolores inquired. From the first day of their -acquaintance she had been growing increasingly fond of Geary; for nearly -a week she had been desirous of calling him Bill, which is a comfortable -name and, to Dolores's way of thinking, a peculiarly appropriate -cognomen for such a distinctly American young man. At mention of the -beloved word he glanced down at her pleasurably. - -“Thank you,” he said. “I'm glad you got around to it finally. Those that -love me always call me Bill.” - -“You called me Dolores.” - -“I move we make it unanimous. I'm a foe to formality.” - -“Second the motion, Bill. So am I--when I care to be--and in our case -your formality is spoiling our comradeship. And now, with reference to -the extraordinary Senor Webster----” - -“Why, the poor old horse has been down with ptomaine poisoning. They -carried him off the train at St. Louis and stood him on his head -and pumped him out and just did manage to cancel his order for a new -tombstone. He says he's feeding regularly again and has booked -passage on _La Estrellita_, so we can look for him on the next steamer -arriving.” - -“Oh, the poor fellow!” Dolores murmured--so fervently that Billy was on -the point of hurling his heart at her feet on the instant. - -The thousand dollars Webster had cabled Billy “for a road-stake” had -been dwindling rapidly under the stimulus of one continous opportunity -to spend the same in a quarter where it was calculated to bring the -most joy. The pleasures of the Sobrantean capital were not such that the -average Yankee citizen might be inspired to prefer them with any degree -of enthusiasm, but such as they were, Dolores Ruey had them all. In a -country where the line between pure blood and mixed is drawn so -strictly as it is in Sobrante, Billy Geary was, of course, a social -impossibility. He was a Caucasian who would shake hands and have a drink -with a gentleman whose nails showed blue at the bases, for all his white -skin--and in the limited upper-class circles of Buenaventura, where none -but pure-bred descendants of purebred Castilians intermingled, the man -or woman who failed, however slightly, to remember at all times that he -was white, was distinctly _persona non grata_. - -The first time Billy appeared in public riding in the same victoria with -Mother Jenks and Dolores, therefore, he was fully aware that for the -future Dolores Ruey was like himself, socially defunct in Sobrante. -However, he did not care, for he had a sneaking suspicion Dolores was -as indifferent as he; in fact, he took a savage delight in the knowledge -that the girl would be proscribed, for with Dolores cut off from all -other society she must, of necessity, turn to him throughout her visit. -So, up to the night _La Estrellita_, with John Stuart Webster on board, -dropped anchor on the quarantine-ground, Mr. Geary was the unflagging -ballyhoo for a personally conducted tour of Dolores Ruey's native land -within a radius of fifteen miles about Buenaventura. He was absolutely -bogged in the quagmire of his first love affair, but until his mining -concession should amply justify an avowal of his passion, an instinctive -sense of the eternal fitness of things reminded Billy of the old proverb -that a closed mouth catches no flies. And in the meantime (such is the -optimism of youth) he decided there was no need for worry, for when a -girl calls a fellow Bill, when she tells him he's a scout and doesn't -care a whoop for any society except his--_caramba!_ it's great! - -A wireless from Webster warned Billy of the former's imminent arrival. -Just before sunset Billy and Dolores, riding along the Malecon, sighted -a blur of smoke far out to sea--a blur that grew and grew until they -could make out the graceful white hull of _La Estrellita_, before -the swift tropic night descended and the lights of the great vessel -shimmered across the harbour. - -“Too late to clear quarantine to-night,” Billy mourned, as he and -Dolores rode back to her hotel. “All the same, I'm going to borrow the -launch of my good friend Leber and his _protégé_ Don Juan Cafetéro, and -go out to the steamer to-night. I can heave to a little way from the -steamer and welcome the old rascal, anyhow; he'll be expecting me to do -that, and I wouldn't disappoint him for a farm.” - -Fortunately, good little Leber consented to Billy's request, and Don -Juan Cafetéro was sober enough to turn the engine over and run the -launch. From the deck of the steamer Webster, smoking his postprandial -cigar, caught sight of the launch's red and green sidelights chugging -through the inky blackness; as the little craft slid up to within a -cable's-length of the steamer and hove to, something told Webster that -Billy Geary would soon be paging him. He edged over to the rail. - -“That you, Bill?” he shouted. - -“Hey! Jack, old pal!” Billy's delighted voice answered him. - -“I knew you'd come, Billy boy.” - -“I knew you'd know it, Johnny. Can't come aboard, you know, until the -ship clears, but I can lie off here and say hello. How is your internal -mechanism?” - -“Grand. I've got the world by the tail on a down-hill haul once more, -son. However, your query reminds me I haven't taken the medicine the -doctor warned me to take after meals for a couple of weeks. Wait a -minute, Bill, until I go to my stateroom and do my duty by my stomach.” - -For ten minutes Billy and Don Juan Cafetéro bobbed about in the launch; -then a stentorian voice shouted from the steamer. “Hey, you! In the -launch, there. Not so close. Back off.” - -Don Juan kicked the launch back fifty feet. “That will do!” the voice -called again. - -“Hello!” Billy soliloquized. “That's Jack Webster's voice. I've heard -him bossing a gang of miners too often not to recognize that -note of command. Wonder what he's up to. I thought he acted -strangely--preferring medicine to me the minute I hailed him!” - -While he was considering the matter, a voice behind him said very softly -and indistinctly, like a man with a harelip: - -“Mr. Geary, will you be good enough to back your launch a couple of -hundred feet? When I'm certain I can't be seen from the steamer, I'll -come aboard.” Billy turned, and in the dim light of his binnacle lamp -observed a beautiful pair of white hands grasping the gunwale on the -starboard quarter. He peered over and made out the head and shoulders of -a man. - -“All right,” he replied in a low voice. “Hang where you are, and you'll -be clear of the propeller.” - -He signalled Don Juan, who backed swiftly away, while Billy doused the -binnacle lamp. - -“That'll do,” the thick voice said presently. “Bear a hand, friend, and -I'll climb over.” - -He came, as naked as Mercury, sprawled on his belly in the cockpit, -opened his mouth, spat out a compact little roll of tinfoil, opened it -and drew out a ball of paper which he flattened out on the floor of the -cockpit and handed up to Billy. - -“Thank you,” he said, very courteously and distinctly now. “My -credentials, Mr. Geary, if you please.” - -Billy re-lighted the lamp and read: - -Dear Billy: - -I do not know the bearer from Adam's off ox; all I know about him is -that he has all the outward marks of a gentleman, the courage of a -bear-cat, a sense of humor and a head for which the Présidente of -Sobrante will gladly pay a considerable number of _pesos oro_. Don't -give up the head, because I like it and we do not need the money--yet. -Take him ashore without anybody knowing it; hide him, clothe him, feed -him--then forget all about him. - -Ever thine, - -J. S. Webster. - -“Kick the boat ahead again, Cafferty,” Billy ordered quietly. He turned -to the late arrival. - -“Mr. Man, your credentials are all in apple-pie order. Do you happen to -know this bay is swarming with man-eating sharks?” - -The man raised a fine, strong, youthful face and grinned at him. -“Hobson's choice, Mr. Geary,” he replied. “Afloat or ashore, the sharks -are after me. Sir, I am your debtor.” He crawled into the cabin and -stretched out on the settee as John Stuart Webster's voice came floating -across the dark waters. “Hey, Billy!” - -“Hey, yourself!” - -“Everything well with you, Billy?” - -“All is lovely, Jack, and the goose honks high. By the way, that friend -of yours called with his letter of introduction. I took care of him.” - -“Thanks. I suppose you'll call for me in that launch to-morrow morning?” - -“Surest thing you know, Jack. Good-night, old top.” - -“Good-night, Billy. See you in the morning.” Don Juan Cafetéra swung -the launch and headed back for the city. At Leber's little dock Billy -stepped ashore, while Don Juan backed out into the dark bay again in -order to avoid inquisitive visitors. Billy hastened to El Buen Amigo -and returned presently with a bundle of clothes; at an agreed signal Don -Juan kicked the launch into the dock again and Billy went aboard. - -“Hat, shirt, necktie, duck suit, white socks, and shoes,” he whispered. -“Climb into them, stranger.” Once more the launch backed out in the bay, -where Webster's _protégé_ dressed at his leisure, and Billy handed Don -Juan a couple of pesos. - -“Remember, John,” he cautioned the bibulous one as they tied up for the -night, “nothing unusual happened to-night.” - -“Divil a thing, Misther Geary. Thank you, sor,” the Gaelic wreck replied -blithely and disappeared in the darkness, leaving Billy to guide the -stranger to El Buen Amigo, where he was taken into the confidence of -Mother Jenks and, on Billy's guarantee of the board bill, furnished with -a room and left to his own devices. - -***** - -John Stuart Webster came down the gangplank into Leber's launch hard on -the heels of the port doctor. - -“You young horse-thief,” he cried affectionately. “I believe it's the -custom down this way for men to kiss each other. We'll dispense with -that, but by----” He folded Billy in a paternal embrace, then held him -at arm's length and looked him over. - -“Lord, son,” he said, “you're as thin as a snake. I'll have to feed you -up.” - -As they sped toward the landing, he looked Billy over once more. “I -have it,” he declared. “You need a change of climate to get rid of that -malaria. Just show me this little old mining claim of yours, Bill, and -then hike for God's country. Three months up there will put you right -again, and by the time you get back, we'll be about ready to weigh the -first cleanup.” - -Billy shook his head. “I'd like to mighty well, Jack,” he replied, “but -I just can't.” - -“Huh! I suppose you don't think I'm equal to the task of straightening -out this concession of yours and making a hummer out of it, eh?” - -The young fellow looked across at him sheepishly. “Mine?” he jeered. -“Who's talking about a mine. I'm thinking of a girl!” - -“Oh!” - -“Some girl, Johnny.” - -“I hope she's not some parrakeet,” Webster bantered. “Have you looked up -her pedigree?” - -“Ah-h-h!” Billy spat over the side in sheer disgust. “This is an -American girl--born here, but white--raised in the U. S. A. I've only -known her three weeks, but--ah!” And Billy kissed his hand into space. - -“Well, I'm glad I find you so happy, boy. I suppose you're going to -let your old Jack-partner give her the once-over and render his report -before you make the fatal leap--eh?” - -“Sure! I want you to meet her. I've been telling her all about you, and -she's crazy to meet you.” - -“Good news! I had a good friend once--twice--three times--and lost him -every time. Wives get so suspicious of their husband's single friends, -you know, so Ï hope I make a hit with your heart's desire, Billy. When -do you pull off the wedding?” - -“Oh,” said Billy, “that's premature, Jack. I haven't asked her. How -could I until I'm able to support her?” - -“Look here, son,” Webster replied, “don't you go to work and be the kind -of fool I was. You get married and take a chance. If you do, you'll have -a son sprouting into manhood when you're as old as I. A man ought to -marry young, Bill. Hang the odds. I know what's good for you.” - -At the hotel, while Webster shaved and arrayed himself in an immaculate -white duck suit, with a broad black silk belt, buck shoes, and a Panama -hat. Billy sent a note to Dolores, apprising her that John Stuart -Webster had arrived--and would she be good enough to receive them? - -Miss Ruey would be that gracious. She was waiting for them in the -veranda just off the _patio_, outwardly calm, but inwardly a foment of -conflicting emotions. As they approached she affected not to see them -and turning, glanced in the opposite direction; nor did she move her -head until Billy's voice, speaking at her elbow, said: - -“Well, Dolores, here's my old Jack-partner waiting to be introduced. -Jack, permit me to present Miss Dolores Ruey.” - -She turned her face and rose graciously, marking with secret triumph -the light of recognition that; leaped to his eyes, hovered there the -hundredth part of a second and departed, leaving those keen, quizzical -blue orbs appraising her in the most natural manner imaginable. Webster -bowed.. - -“It is a great happiness to meet you, Miss Ruey,” he said gravely. - -Dolores gave him her hand. “You have doubtless forgotten, Mr. Webster, -but I think we have met before.” - -“Indeed!” John Stuart Webster murmured interestedly. “So stupid of me -not to remember. Where did we meet?” - -“He has a profound sense of humour,” she soliloquized. “He's going to -force me into the open. Oh, dear, I'm helpless.” Aloud she said: “On -the train in Death Valley last month, Mr. Webster. You came aboard with -whiskers.” - -Webster shook his head slowly, as if mystified. “I fear you're mistaken, -Miss Ruey. I cannot recall the meeting, and if I ever wore whiskers, no -human being would ever be able to recognize me without them. Besides, I -wasn't on the train in Death Valley last month. I was in Denver--so you -must have met some other Mr. Webster.” - -She flushed furiously. “I didn't think I could be mistaken,” she -answered a trifle coldly. - -“It is my misfortune that you were,” he replied graciously. “Certainly, -had we met at that time, I should not have failed to recognize you now. -Somehow, Miss Ruey, I never have any luck.” - -She was completely outgeneralled, and having the good sense to realize -it, submitted gracefully. “He's perfectly horrible,” she told herself, -“but at least he can lie like a gentleman--and I always did like that -kind of man.” - -So they chatted on the veranda until luncheon was announced and Dolores -left them to go to her room. - -“Well?” Billy queried the moment she was out of earshot. “What do you -think, Johnny?” - -“I think,” said John Stuart Webster slowly, “that you're a good picker, -Bill. She's my ideal of a fine young woman, and my advice to you is to -marry her. I'll grub-stake you. Bill, this stiff collar is choking me; I -wish you'd wait here while I go to my room and rustle up a soft one.” - -In the privacy of his room John Stuart Webster sat down on his bed and -held his head in his hands, for he had just received a blow in the solar -plexus and was still groggy; there was an ache in his head, and the -quizzical light had faded from his eyes. Presently, however, he -pulled himself together and approaching the mirror looked long at his -weather-beaten countenance. - -“Too old,” he murmured, “too old to be dreaming dreams.” - -He changed to a soft collar, and when he descended to the _patio_ to -join Billy once more he was, to all outward appearances, his usual -unperturbed self, for his was one of those rare natures that can derive -a certain comfort from the misery of self-sacrifice--and in that five -minutes alone in his room John Stuart Webster had wrestled with the -tragedy of his life and won. - -He had resolved to give Billy the right of way on the highway to -happiness. - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -|LATE in the afternoon of the day of his arrival in Buenaventura, in the -cool recess of the deep veranda flanking the western side of the _patio_ -of the Hotel Mateo, John Stuart Webster sat in a wicker chair, cigar in -mouth, elbows on knees, hands clasping a light Malacca stick, with the -end of which he jabbed meditatively at a crack in the recently sprinkled -tiled floor, as if punctuating each bitter thought that chased its -predecessor through his somewhat numbed brain. - -In Mr. Webster's own whimsical phraseology, his clock had been fixed, -on the instant he recognized in the object of his youthful partner's -adoration the same winsome woman he had enthroned in his own secret -castle of love. From that precise second Billy's preserve was as safe -from encroachment by his friend as would be a bale of Confederate -currency in an armour-steel vault on the three-thousand-foot level of -a water-filled mine. Unfortunately for Webster, however, while he knew -himself fairly well, he was not aware of this at the time. Viewed in the -light of calmer reflection, Mr. Webster was quite certain he had made a -star-spangled monkey of himself. - -He sought solace now in the fact that there had been mitigating -circumstances. Throughout the entire journey from the steamer to the -hotel, Billy had not once mentioned in its entirety the name of his -adored one. In any Spanish-American country the name Dolores is not so -uncommon as to excite suspicion; and Webster who had seen the mercurial -William in and out of many a desperate love affair in the latter's -brittle teens and early twenties, attached so little importance to -this latest outbreak of the old disease that it did not occur to him to -cross-examine Billy, after eliciting the information that the young man -had not lost his heart to a local belle. - -The knowledge that Billy's inamorata was an American girl served to -clear what threatened to be a dark atmosphere, and so Webster promptly -had dismissed the subject. - -Any psychologist will tell one that it is quite possible for a person to -dream, in the short space of a split second, of events which, if really -consummated, would involve the passage of days, weeks, months, or even -years! Now, Jack Webster was an extra fast thinker, asleep or awake, -and in his mind's eye, as he sat there in the _patio_, he had a dreadful -vision of himself with a delicate spray of lilies of the valley in -the lapel of his dress coat, as he supported the malarial Billy to the -altar, there to receive the promise of Dolores to love, honour, and -obey until death them did part. As the said Billy's dearest friend and -business associate--as the only logical single man available--the job -was Webster's without a struggle. _Diablo!_ Why did people persist in -referring to such runners-up in the matrimonial handicap as _best_ men, -when at the very least calculation the groom was the winner? - -That wedding party was the very least of the future events Mr. Webster's -hectic imagination conjured up. In the course of time (he reflected), -a baby would doubtless arrive to bless the Geary household. Godfather? -John Stuart Webster, of course. And when the fruit of that happy union -should be old enough to “ride horsey,” who but the family friend would -be required to get down on all fours and accommodate the unconscious -tyrant? Boy or girl, it would make no difference; whichever way the cat -jumped, he would be known as Uncle Jack; Billy would drag him up to the -house once or twice a week, and he would go for the sake of the baby; -then they would make him stay all night, and Mrs. Billy would sigh and -try to smile when she detected cigarette ashes on the chiffonier in the -spare bedroom--infallible sign that there was a bachelor about. Besides, -happily married women have a mania for marrying off their husband's -bachelor friends, and Mrs. Billy might scout up a wife for him--a wife -he didn't want--and----No, he would _not_ be the family friend. Nobody -should ever Uncle Jack him if he could help it, and the only way to -avoid the honour would be to eschew the job of best man, to resolve, in -the very beginning of things, to beware of entangling friendships. Thus, -as in a glass darkly, John Stuart Webster, in one illuminating moment, -saw his future, together with his sole avenue of escape. - -All too forcibly Webster realized that Billy's bally-hooing must have -created a favourable impression in Dolores's mind prior to the arrival -of the victim; hence it seemed reasonable to presume that when she -discovered in Billy Geary's Jack Webster her own soiled, ragged, -bewhiskered, belligerent, battered knight, Sir John Stuart Webster of -Death Valley, California, U. S. A., extreme measures would have to be -taken instantly to save the said Webster from being spattered with -a dear old friendship in the future--and a dear old friendship with -Dolores Ruey was something he did not want, had never figured on, and -shuddered at accepting. All things considered, it had appeared wise to -him to challenge, politely but firmly, her suggestion that they had met. - -Of course, Webster had not really thought all this at the time; he had -felt it and acted entirely upon instinct. A little private cogitation, -however, had served to straighten out his thinking apparatus -and-convince him that he had acted hastily--wherefore he would (a still, -small voice whispered) repent at leisure. Dolores had not pressed the -question (he was grateful to her for that), and for as long as five -minutes he had congratulated himself on his success in “putting it over” - on her. Then he had caught her scrutinizing the knuckles of his right -hand; following her glance, he had seen that the crests of two knuckles -were slightly bluish and tender, as new skin has a habit of showing on -tanned knuckles. With a sinking heart he had recalled how painfully and -deeply he had lacerated those knuckles less than a month before on the -strong white teeth of a fat male masher, and while the last ugly shred -of evidence had dropped off a week before, nevertheless to the critical -and discerning eye there was still faint testimony of that fateful -joust--just sufficient to convict! - -He had glanced at her swiftly; she had caught the glance and replied -to it with the faintest possible gleam of mischievous challenge in her -glorious brown orbs; whereupon John Stuart Webster had immediately done -what every honest male biped has been doing since Adam told his first -lie to Eve--blushed, and had drawn a little taunting smile for his -pains. - -As Solomon once remarked, the wicked flee when no man pursueth; and -that smile had scarcely faded before John Stuart Webster had unanimously -resolved upon the course he should have pursued in the first place. He -would investigate Billy's mining concession immediately; provided it -should prove worth while, he would finance it and put the property on a -paying basis; after which he would see to it that the very best doctors -in the city of Buenaventura should inform Billy, unofficially and in the -strictest confidence, that if he desired to preserve the life of Senor -Juan Webstaire, he should forthwith pack that rapidly disintegrating -person off to a more salubrious climate. - -Having made his decision, John Stuart Webster immediately took heart -of hope and decided to lead trumps. He leaned over and slapped Billy -Geary's knee affectionately. - -“Well, Bill, you saffron-coloured old wreck, how long do you suppose -it will take for you to pick up enough strength and courage to do some -active mining? You're looking like food shot from guns.” - -“Billy needs a vacation and a change of climate,” Dolores declared with -that motherly conviction all womankind feels toward a sick man. - -“So I do, Dolores,” Billy replied. “And I'm going to take it. Up there -in the hills back of San Miguel de Padua, the ubiquitous mosquito is -not, the climate is almost temperate--and 'tis there that I would be.” - -“You can't start too soon to please me, Billy,” Webster declared. “I'm -anxious to get that property on a paying basis, so I can get out of the -country.” - -“Why, Johnny,” the amazed Billy declared, “I thought you would stay and -help run the mine.” - -“Indeed! Well, why do you suppose I spent so much time teaching you how -to run a mine, you young idiot, if not against just such a time as this? -You found this concession and tied it up; I'll finance it and help you -get everything started; but after that, I'm through, and you can manage -it on salary and name the salary yourself. You have a greater interest -in this country than I, William; and so with your kind permission we'll -hike up to that concession tomorrow and give it the double-O; then, if -I can O. K. the property, we'll cable for the machinery I ordered just -before I left Denver, and get busy. We ought to have our first clean-up -within ninety days. What kind of labour have you in this country? -Anything worth while? If not, we'll have to import some white men that -can do things.” - -“Gosh, but you're in a hurry,” Billy murmured. He had been long enough -in Sobrante to have acquired a touch of the _manana_ spirit of the -lowlands, and he disliked exceedingly the thought of having his -courtship interrupted on a minute's notice. - -“You know me, son. I'm a hustler on the job,” Webster reminded him -brutally; “so the sooner you start, the sooner you can get back and -accumulate more malaria. What accommodations have you up there?” - -“None, Jack.” - -“Then you had better get some, Billy. I think you told me we have -to take horses at San Miguel de Padua to ride in to the mine.” Billy -nodded. “Then you had better buy a tent and bedding for both of us, ship -the stuff up to San Miguel de Padua, go up with it and engage horses, -a good cook, and a couple of reliable _mozos_. When you have everything -ready, telegraph me and I'll come up.” - -“Why can't you come up with me?” Billy demanded. - -“I have to see a man, and write some letters and send a cablegram and -wait for an answer. I may have to loaf around here for two or three -days. By the way, what did you do for that friend I sent to letter of -introduction?” - -“Exactly what you told me to do, Johnny” - -“Where is he now?” - -“At El Buen Amigo--the same place where I'm living.” - -“All right. We'll not discuss business any more, because we have -finished with the business in hand--at least I have, Billy. When you get -back to your hostelry, you might tell my friend I shall expect him over -to dine with me this evening, if he can manage it.” - -For an hour they discussed various subjects; then Billy, declaring -the siesta was almost over and the shops reopening as a consequence, -announced his intention of doing his shopping, said good-bye to Dolores -and Webster, and lugubriously departed on the business in hand. - -“Why are you in such a hurry, Mr. Webster?” Dolores demanded. “You -haven't been in Buenaventura six hours until you've managed to make me -perfectly miserable.” - -“I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to.” - -“Didn't you know Billy Geary is my personal property?” - -“No, but I suspected he might be. Bill's generous that way. He never -hesitates to give himself to a charming woman.” - -“This was a case of mutual self-defense. Billy hasn't any standing -socially, you know. I believe he has been seen shooting craps--isn't -that what you call it?--with gentlemen of more or less colour; then he -appeared in public with me, minus a chaperon--” - -“Fooey!” - -“Likewise fiddlesticks! I should have had the _entrée_ to the society -of my father's old friends but for that; when old Mrs. General Maldonado -lectured me (the dear, aristocratic soul conceived it to be her duty) on -the impropriety of appearing on the Male-con with Billy and my guardian, -who happens to be Billy's landlady, I tried to explain our American -brand of democracy, but failed. So I haven't been invited anywhere -since, and life would have been very dull without Billy. He has been a -dear--and you have taken him away.” - -Webster laughed. “Well, be patient, Miss Ruey, and I'll give him back -to you with considerably more money than he will require for your joint -comfort. Billy in financial distress is a joy forever, but Billy in -a top hat and a frock coat on the sunny side of Easy Street will be -absolutely irresistible.” - -“He's a darling. Ever since my arrival he has dedicated his life to -keeping me amused.” She rose. “Despite your wickedness, Mr. Webster, -I am going to be good to you. Billy and I always have five o'clock tea -here in the veranda. Would you care to come to my tea-party?” - -“Nothing could give me greater pleasure,” he assured her. - -She nodded brightly to him. “I'm going to run up to my room and put some -powder on my nose,” she explained. - -“But you'll return before five o'clock?” Webster was amazed to hear -himself plead. - -“You do not deserve such consideration, but I'll come back in about -twenty minutes,” she answered and left him in the spot where we find -him at the opening of this chapter, in pensive mood, jabbing his Malacca -stick into a crack in the tiled floor. - -Presently Webster shuddered. “Good heavens,” he soliloquized, “what a -jackass-play I made when I declined to admit we had met before. What -harm could I have accomplished by admitting it? I must be getting old, -because I'm getting cowardly. I'm afraid of myself! When I met that -girl last month, it was in a region that God forgot--and I was a human -caterpillar, which a caterpillar is a hairy, lowly, unlovely thing that -crawls until it is metamorphosed into a butterfly and flies. Following -out the simile, I am now a human butterfly, not recognizable as the -caterpillar to one woman out of ten million; yet she pegs me out at -first. Gad, but she's a remarkable girl! And now I'm in for it. I've -aroused her curiosity; and being a woman, she will not rest until she -has fathomed the reason back of my extraordinary conduct. I think I'm -going to be smeared with confusion. A spineless man like you, Johnny -Webster, stands as much show in a battle of wits with that woman as -a one-legged white man at a coon cakewalk. I'm afraid of her, and I'm -afraid of myself. I'm glad I'm going up to the mine. I'll go as quickly -as I can, and stay as long as I can.” - -As Webster viewed the situation, his decision to see as little as -possible of Dolores during his brief stay in Sobrante was a wise one. -The less he saw of her (he told himself), the better for his peace of -mind, for he was forty years old, and he had never loved before. For him -this fever that burned in his blood, this delicious agony that throbbed -in his heart--and all on the very ghost of provocation--were so many -danger-signals, heralds of that grand passion which, coming to a man of -forty, generally lasts him the remainder of his natural existence. - -“This certainly beats the Dutch!” he murmured, and beyond the -peradventure of a doubt, it did. He reflected that all of his life the -impulses of his generous nature had been his undoing. In an excess -of paternalism he had advised Billy to marry the girl and not permit -himself to develop into a homeless, childless, loveless man such as -Exhibit A, there present; following his natural inclination to play any -game,' red or black, he had urged Billy to marry the girl immediately -and had generously offered a liberal subsidy to make the marriage -possible, for he disliked any interference in his plans to make those he -loved happy. And now---- - -Webster was forced to admit he was afraid of himself. His was the -rapidly disappearing code of the old unfettered West, that a man shall -never betray his friend in thought, word, or deed. To John Stuart -Webster any crime against friendship was the most heinous in all the -calendar of human frailty; even to dream of slipping into Billy's shoes -now would be monstrous; yet Webster knew he could not afford a test -of strength between his ancient friendship for Billy and his masculine -desire for a perfect mate. Remained then but one course: - -“I must run like a road-runner,” was the way Webster expressed it. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -|DOLORES had been gone an hour before Webster roused from his bitter -introspection sufficiently to glance at his watch. “Hum-m-m!” he grunted -disapprovingly. - -“Oh, I've been here fully half an hour,” Dolores's voice assured him. -He turned guiltily and found her leaning against the jamb in a doorway -behind him and farther down the veranda. She was gazing at him with that -calm, impersonal yet vitally interested glance that had so captivated -him the first time he saw her. - -“Well, then”--bluntly--“why didn't you say so?” - -“The surest way to get oneself disliked is to intrude on the moods of -one's friends. Moreover, I wanted to study you in repose. Are you quite -finished talking to yourself and fighting imaginary enemies? If so, -you might talk to me for a change; I'll even disagree with you on any -subject, if opposition will make you any happier.” - -He rose and indicated the chair. “Please sit down, Miss Ruey. You are -altogether disconcerting--too confoundedly smart. I fear I'm going to be -afraid of you until I know you better.” - -She shrugged adorably and took the proffered chair. “That's the Latin in -her--that shrug,” Webster thought. “I wonder what other mixtures go to -make up that perfect whole.” - -Aloud he said: “So you wanted to study me in repose? Why waste your -time? I am never in repose.” - -“Feminine curiosity, Mr. Webster. Billy has talked so much of you that I -wanted to see if you measured up to the specifications.” - -“I don't mind your looking at me, Miss Ruey, but I get fidgety when -you look through me.” He was glad he said that, because it made her -laugh--more immoderately, Webster thought, than the circumstances -demanded. Nevertheless he had an insane desire to make her laugh like -that again, to watch her mobile features run the gamut from sweet, -nunlike repose to mirthful riot. - -“I can't help it--really,” she protested. “You're so transparent.” - -Mr. Webster reflected that doubtless she was right. Men in his fix -generally were pitifully obvious. Nevertheless he was nettled. “Oh, I'm -not so sure of that. I was just accusing myself of being a bonehead, and -bone is opaque.” - -“Perhaps I have an X-ray eye,” she replied demurely. “However, just to -show you how easy you are to read, I'll not look at your silly head. -Just let me have your hand, and I'll tell you all about yourself.” - -“Is there any charge?” - -“Yes, a nominal one. However, I guarantee a truthful reading; if, when -I am through, you are not wholly satisfied, you do not have to pay the -price. Is that a satisfactory arrangement?” - -“Right as a fox,” he declared, and held out his great calloused hand. -He thrilled as she took it in both of hers, so soft and beautiful, -and flattened it out, palm upward, on her knee. “A fine, large, useful -hand,” she commented musingly. “The callouses indicate recent hard -manual toil with a pick land shovel; despite your recent efforts with -soap and brush and pumice-stone, there still remain evidences of some -foreign matter ingrained in those callous spots. While, of course, I -cannot be certain of my diagnosis without a magnifying glass, I venture -the conjecture that it is a mineral substance, and your hands are so -tanned one can readily see you have been working in the sun--in a very -hot sun, as a matter of fact. Inasmuch as the hottest sun I ever felt -was in Death Valley, as I crossed it on the train last month, your hand -tells me you have been there. - -“The general structure of the hand indicates that you are of a -peace-loving disposition, but are far from being a peace-at-any-price -advocate.” She flipped his hand over suddenly. “Ah, the knuckles confirm -that last statement. They tell me you will fight on provocation; while -your fingers are still stiff and thick from your recent severe labours, -nevertheless they indicate an artistic nature, from which I deduce that -upon the occasion when you were in conflict last your opponent received -a most artistic thrashing.” - -Webster twitched nervously. “Skip the coarse side of my nature,” he -pleaded, “and tell me something nice about myself.” - -“I am coming to that. This line indicates that you are very brave, -gentle, and courteous. You are quick and firm in your decisions, but not -always right, because your actions are governed by your heart instead -of your head. Once you have made a decision, you are reckless of the -consequences. Your lifeline tells me you are close to fifty-three years -of age----” - -“Seeress, you're shooting high and to the right,” he interrupted, for he -did not relish that jab about his age. “I'll have you know I was forty -years old last month, and that I can still do a hundred yards in twelve -seconds flat--in my working clothes.” - -“Well, don't feel peeved about it, Mr. Webster. I am not infallible; the -best you can hope for from me is a high percentage of hits, even if -I did shoot high and to the right that time. In point of worldly -experience you're a hundred and six years old but I lopped off fifty -per cent, to be on the safe side. To continue: You are of an extremely -chivalrous nature--particularly toward young ladies travelling without -chaperons; you are kind, affectionate, generous to a fault, something -of a spendthrift. You will always be a millionaire or a pauper, never -anything between--at least for any great length of time.” - -“You've been talking to that callow Bill Geary.” Mr. Webster's face was -so red he was sensible of a distinct feeling of relief that she kept her -face bent over his hand. - -“I haven't. He's been talking to me. One may safely depend upon you to -do the unexpected. Your matrimonial line is unbroken, proving you have -never married, although right here the line is somewhat dim and frayed.” - She looked up at him suddenly. “You haven't been in love, have you?” she -queried with childlike insouciance. “In love--and disappointed?” - -He nodded, for he could not trust himself to speak. - -“How sad!” she cooed sympathetically. “Did she marry another, or did she -die?” - -“She--she--yes, she died.” - -“Cauliflower-tongue, in all probability, carried her off, poor thing! -However, to your fortune: You are naturally truthful and would not make -a deliberate misstatement of fact unless you had a very potent reason -for it. You are sensitive to ridicule; it irks you to be teased, -particularly by a woman, although you would boil in oil rather than -admit it. You never ask impertinent questions, and you dislike those who -do; you are not inquisitive; you never question other people's motives -unless they appear to have a distinct bearing on your happiness or -prosperity; you resent it when anybody questions your motives, and -anybody who knows your nature will not question them. However, you have -a strong sense of sportsmanship, and when fairly defeated, whether in a -battle of fists or a battle of wits, you never hold a grudge, which is -one of the very nicest characteristics a man can have----” - -“Or a woman,” he suggested feebly. - -“Quite right. Few woman have a sense of sportsmanship.” - -“You have.” - -“How do you know?” - -“The witness declines to answer, on the ground that he might incriminate -himself; also I object to the question because it is irrelevant, -immaterial, and not cross-examination.” - -“Accepted. You stand a very good chance of becoming a millionaire -in Sobrante, but you must beware of a dark man who has crossed your -path----” - -“Which one?” Webster queried mirthfully. “All coons look alike to -me--Greasers also.” - -“Mere patter of our profession, Mr. Webster,” she admitted, “tossed in -to build up the mystery element and simulate wisdom. Fortune awaited -you in the United States, but you put it behind you, at the call of -friendship, for a fortune in Sobrante. Now you have reconsidered that -foolish action and at this moment you are contemplating sending a -cablegram to a fat old man who waddles when he walks, recalling your -decision not to accept a certain proposition of a business nature. -However, you are too late. The fat old man with the waddle has made -other arrangements, and if you want to make money, you'll remain in -Sobrante. I think that is all, Mr. Webster.” He was gazing at her with -an expression composed of equal parts of awe, amazement, consternation, -adoration, and blank stupidity. - -“Well,” she queried innocently, “to quote Billy's colloquial style: did -I put it over?” - -“You did very well for an amateur, but I'm a doubting Thomas. I have to -poke my finger into the wound, so to speak, before I'll believe. About -this fat old man who waddles when he walks: a really topnotch palmist -could tell me his name.” - -“Well, I'm only an amateur, but still I think I might, to quote Billy -again, make a stab at it. A little while ago you said I had a strong -sense of sportsmanship. Do you care to bet me about ten dollars I cannot -give you the fat party's initials--all three of them?” - -He gazed at her owlishly. She was the most perfectly amazing girl he -had ever met; he was certain she would win the ten dollars from him, but -then it was worth ten dollars to know for a certainty whether she was -perfect or possessed of a slight flaw; so he silently drew forth a -wallet that would have choked a cow and skinned off a ten-dollar gold -certificate of the United States of America. - -“I'm game,” he mumbled. “To quote Billy again: 'Put up or shut up.'” - -“The fat gentleman's initials are E. P. J.” - -“By the twelve apostles, Peter, Simon----” - -“Don't blaspheme, Mr. Webster.” - -He stood up and shook himself. “When you order the tea,” he said very -distinctly, “please have mine cold. I need a bracer after that. Take the -ten. You've won it.” - -“Thanks ever so much,” she answered in a matter-of-fact tone and tucked -the bill inside of her shirtwaist. “I am a very poor woman and--'Every -little bit added to what you've got makes just a little bit more,'” she -carolled, swaying her lithe, beautiful body and snapping her fingers -like a cabaret dancer. - -He could have groaned with the futility of his overwhelming desire for -her; it even occurred to him what a shame it was to waste a marvel like -her on a callow young pup like Billy, who had fought so many deadly -skirmishes with Dan Cupid that a post-impressionistic painting of the -Geary heart must resemble a pincushion. Then he remembered that this was -an ungenerous, a traitorous thought, and that he had not paid the lady -her fee. - -“Well, what's the tariff?” he asked. - -“You really feel that I have earned a professional's fee?” - -“Beyond a doubt.” - -She stood a moment gazing thoughtfully down at the tip of her little -toe, struggling to be quite cool and collected in the knowledge that she -was about to do a daring, almost a brazen thing--wondering with a queer, -panicky little fluttering of her heart if _he_ would think any the less -of her for it. - -“Well--I--that is----” - -“The cauliflower ear is not unknown among pugilists in our own dear -native land, but the cauliflower tongue appears to blossom exclusively -in Sobrante,” he suggested wickedly. - -She bit her lips to repress a smile. “Since you have taken Billy away -from me this evening, I shall make you take Billy's place this evening. -After dinner you shall hire an open victoria with two little white -horses and drive me around the Malecon. There is a band concert -to-night.” - -“If it's the last act of my wicked life!” he promised fervently. Strange -to relate, in that ecstatic moment no thought of Billy Geary marred the -perfect serenity of what promised to be the most perfectly serene night -in history. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -|THEY were seated at the tiny tea table when the sound of feet crunching -the little shell-paved path through the _patio_ caused Webster and -Dolores to turn their heads simultaneously. Coming toward them was -an individual who wore upon a head of flaming red a disreputable, -conical-crowned straw sombrero; a soiled cotton camisa with the tails -flowing free of his equally soiled khaki trousers, and sandals of the -kind known as _alpargates_--made from the tough fibre of a plant of the -cactus family and worn only by the very lowliest peons--completed his -singular attire. - -“Hello!” Webster murmured whimsically. “Look who's here!” - -“One of Billy's friends and another reason why he has no social -standing,” Dolores whispered. “I believe he's going to speak to us.” - -Such evidently appeared to be the man's intention. He came to the edge -of the veranda, swept his ruin of a hat from his red head and bowed with -Castilian expansiveness. - -“Yer pardon, Miss, for appearin' before you.” She smiled her forgiveness -to what Webster how perceived to be an alcoholic wreck. He was about to -dismiss the fellow with scant ceremony, when Dolores, with that rich -sense of almost masculine humour--a humour that was distinctly -American--said sweetly: - -“Mr. Webster, shake hands with Don Juan Cafetéro, _bon vivant_ and man -about town. Don Juan, permit me to present Mr. Webster, from somewhere -in the United States. Mr. Webster is a mining partner of our mutual -friend Mr. William Geary.” - -A long, sad descent into the Pit had, however, imbued Don Juan with a -sense of his degradation; he was in the presence of a superior, and he -acknowledged the introduction with a respectful inclination of his head. - -“'Tis you I've called to see, Misther Webster, sor,” he explained. - -“Very well, old-timer. In what way can I be of service to you?” - -“'Tis the other way around, sor, if ye plaze, an' for that same there's -no charrge, seein' ye're the partner, av that fine, kind gintleman, -Misther Geary Sure 'tis he that's the free-handed lad wit' his money -whin he has it, God bless him, an' may the heavens be his bed, although -be the same token I can see wit' the half av an eye that 'tis yerself -thinks nothin' av a dollar, or five, for that matther. However, sor, -that's neither here nor there. Did ye, whilst in New Orleans, have -d'alings wit' a short, shtout spiggoty wit' a puckered scar undher his -right eye?” - -John Stuart Webster suddenly sat up straight and gazed upon the lost son -of Erin with grave interest. “Yes,” he replied, “I seem to recall such a -man.” - -“Only another proof of my ability as a palmist,” Dolores struck in. -“Remember, Mr. Webster, I warned you to beware of a dark man that had -crossed your path.” - -“An' well he may, Miss--well he may,” Don Juan agreed gloomily. “'Tis -none av me business, sor, but would ye mind tellin' me just what ye did -to that spiggoty?” - -“Why, to begin, last Sunday morning I interrupted this pucker-eyed -fellow and a pop-eyed friend of his while engaged in an attempt to -assassinate a white, inoffensive stranger. The following day, at the -gangplank of the steamer, we met again; he poked his nose into my -business, so I squeezed his nose until he cried; right before everybody -I did it, Don Juan, and to add insult to injury, I plucked a few hairs -from his rat's moustache--one hair per each pluck.” - -“I'd a notion ye did somethin' to him, sor. Now, thin, listen to me: I'm -not much to look at, but I'm white. I'm an attashay, as ye might say, av -Ignatz Leber--him that do have the import an' export house at the ind av -the Calle San Rosario, forninst the bay. Also he do have charrge av -the cable office, an' whin I'm sober enough, I deliver cable-grains for -Leber. Now, thin, ye'll recall we had a bit av a shower to-day at noon?” - -Dolores and Webster nodded. Don Juan, after glancing cautiously around, -lowered his voice and continued: “I was deliverin' a cablegram for -Leber, an' me course took me past the palace gate--which, be the same -token, has sinthry-boxes both inside an' out, wan on each side av the -gate. The sinthry was not visible as I came along, an' what wit' the -shower comin' as suddint as that, an' me wit' a wardrobe that's not so -extinsive I can afford to get it wet, I shtepped into wan av the outside -sintry-boxes till the rain should be over, an' what wit' a dhrink av -_aguardiente_ I'd took to brace me for the thrip, an' the mimory av auld -times, I fell asleep. - -“Dear knows how long I sat there napping; all I know is that I was -awakened by the sound av three men talkin' at the gate, an' divil a -worrd did they say but what I heard. They were talkin' in Spanish, but -I undhershtood thim well enough. 'He's at the Hotel Mateo,' says wan -voice, 'an' his name is Webster--Jawn Webster. He's an American, an' a -big, savage-lookin' lad at that, so take, me advice an' be careful. Do -ye two keep an eye on him wherever he goes, an' if he should shtep out -at night an' wandher t'rough a dark shtreet, do ye two see to it that -he's put where he'll not interfere again in Don Felipe's affairs. No -damn' gringo'--beggin' yer pardon, Miss--'can intherfere in the wurrk -av the Intilligince Bureau at a time like this, in addition to insultin' -our honoured chief, wit'out the necessity av bein' measured for a -coffin.' '_Si, mi general.'_ says another lad, an 'To be sure, _mi -general_,' says a thirrd; an' wit' that the gineral, bad cess to him, -wint back to the palace an' the other two walked on up the _calle_ an' -away from the sinthry-box.” - -“Did you come out and follow them?” Webster demanded briskly. - -“Faith, I did. Wan av them is Francisco Arredondo, a young cavalry -lootinint, an' the other wan is Captain José Benevides, him that do be -the best pistol-shot an' swordsman in the spiggoty army. 'Twas him that -kilt auld Gineral Gonzales in a djuel a month ago.” - -“What kind of looking man is this Benevides, my friend?” - -“A tall, thin young man, wit' a dude's moustache an' a diamond ring on -his right hand. He do be whiter nor most. Have a care would ye meet him -around the city an' let him pick a fight wit' ye. An' have a care, sor, -would ye go out av a night.” - -“Thank you, Don Juan. You're the soul of kindness. What else do you -know?” - -“Well,” Don Juan replied with a naïve grin, “I did know somethin' else, -but shure, Misther Geary advised me to forget it. I was wit' him in the -launch last night.” - -Webster stepped out of the veranda and laid a friendly hand on Don Juan -Cafetéro's shoulder. “Don Juan,” he said gently, “I'm going back to the -United States very soon. Would you like to come with me?” - -Don Juan's watery eyes grew a shade mistier, if possible. He shook -his head. “Whin I'm dhrunk here, sor,” he replied, “no wan pays any -attintion to me, but in America they'd give me ten days in the hoosgow -wanst a week. Thank you, sor, but I'll shtay here till the finish.” - -“There axe institutions in America where hopeless inebriates, -self-committed, may be sent for a couple of years. I believe 6 per cent, -are permanently cured. You could be one of the six--and I'd cheerfully -pay for it and give you a good job when you come out.” - -Don Juan Cafetéro shook his red head hopelessly. He knew the strength of -the Demon and had long since ceased to fight even a rear-guard action. -Webster put a hand under the stubbly chin and tilted Don Juan's head -sharply. “Hold up your head,” he commanded. “You're the first of your -breed I ever saw who would admit he was whipped. Here's five dollars -for you--five dollars gold. Take it and return with the piece intact -to-morrow morning, Don Juan Cafetéro.” - -Don Juan Cafetéro's wondering glance met Webster's directly, wavered, -sought the ground, but at a jerk on his chin came back and--stayed. Thus -for at least ten seconds they gazed at each other; then Webster spoke. -“Thank you,” he said. - -“Me name is John J. Cafferty,” the lost one quavered. - -“Round one for Cafferty,” Webster laughed. “Good-bye now, until nine -tomorrow. I'll expect you here, John, without fail.” And he took the -derelict's hand and wrung it heartily. - -“Well,” Webster remarked to Dolores as he held out his cup for more tea, -“if I'm not the original Tumble Tom, I hope I may never see the back of -my neck.” - -“Do you attach any importance to Don Juan's story?” she asked anxiously. - -“Yes, but not so much as Don Juan does. However, to be forewarned is to -be forearmed.” He sighed. “I am the innocent bystander,” he explained, -“and I greatly fear I have managed to snarl myself up in a Sobrantean -political intrigue, when I haven't the slightest interest either way. -However, that's only one more reason why I should finish my work here -and get back to Denver.” - -“But how did all this happen, Mr. Webster?” - -“Like shooting fish in a dry lake, Miss Ruey,” Webster replied, and -related to her in detail the story of his adventure with the Sobrantean -assassins in Jackson Square and his subsequent meeting with Andrew -Bowers aboard _La Estrellita_. - -Dolores laughed long and heartily as Webster finished his humorous -recital. “Oh, you're such a very funny man,” she declared. “Billy told -me God only made one Jack Webster and then destroyed the mold; I believe -Billy is right. But do tell me what became of this extraordinary and -unbidden guest.” - -“The night the steamer arrived in port, Billy and Don Juan came out in -a launch to say 'Hello,' so I seized upon the opportunity to tell Andrew -to jump overboard and swim to the launch. Gave him a little note to -Billy--carried it in his mouth--instructing Billy to do the right thing -by him--and Billy did it. I don't know what Andrew is up to and I don't -care. Where I was raised we let every man roll his own hoop. All I hope -is that they don't shoot Andrew. If they do, I fear I'll weep. He's -certainly a skookum lad. Do you know, Miss Ruey, I love anybody that can -impose on me--make a monkey out of me, in fact--and make me like it?” - -“That's so comforting,” she remarked dryly. Webster looked at -her sharply, suspiciously; her words were susceptible of a dual -interpretation. Her next sentence, however, dissipated this impression. -“Because it confirms what I told you this afternoon when I read your -palm,” she added. - -“You didn't know how truly you spoke when you referred to the dark man -that had crossed my path. He's uncomfortably real--drat him!” - -“Then you are really concerned?” - -“Not at all, but I purpose sleeping with one eye open. I shan't permit -myself to feel concerned until they send more than two men after me--say -eight or ten. A husky American ought to be willing to give these -spiggoties a pull in the weights.” - -His indifference appalled her; she leaned forward impulsively and laid -a hand on his forearm. “But you must heed Don Juan's warning,” she -declared seriously. “You must not go out alone at night.” - -He grinned boyishly. “Of course not, Miss Ruey. You're going to ride out -with me this evening.” - -“I'm not. Don Juan's report has spoiled all that. I'll not subject you -to risk.” - -“Very well; then I shall drive out alone.” - -“You're a despot, Mr. Webster--a regular despot.” - -“Likewise a free agent.” - -“I'll go with you.” - -“I thought so.” - -“You're--you're----” - -He rose while she was searching for the right word. “Will you excuse me -until after dinner, Miss Ruey? I'd love to stay and chat with you, even -though it does appear that presently we shall be calling each other -names, but the fact of the matter is--well, I am in a very serious -predicament, and I might as well start right now to prepare to meet any -emergency. For what hour shall I order the carriage?” - -“Seven-thirty. After all, they'll not dare to murder you on the -Malecon.” - -“I agree with you. It will have to be done very quietly, if at all. -You've been mighty nice to me this afternoon, seeress; I shall be -grateful right up to the moment of dissolution.” - -“Speak softly but carry a big stick,” she warned him. - -“A big gun,” he corrected here, “--two of them, in fact.” - -“Sensible man! I'm not going to worry about you, Mr. Webster.” She -nodded her permission for him to retire, and as he walked down the -veranda and into the hotel, her glance followed him with pardonable -feminine curiosity, marking the breadth of his shoulders, the quick, -springy stride, the alert, erect poise of his head on the powerful neck. - -“A doer of deeds are you, John Stuart Webster,” she almost whispered. -“As Kipling would say: '_Wallah!_ But you are a man!'” ^ - -A stealthy footstep sounded below the veranda she turned and beheld Don -Juan Cafetéro, his hat in his left hand, in his right a gold-piece which -he held toward her. - -“Take it, _allanah_,” he wheezed in his hoarse, drunkard's whisper. -“Keep it f'r me till to-morrow, for sorra wan av me can I trust to do -that same--an' be the same token I can't face that big man wit'out it.” - -“Why not, Don Juan?” - -He hung his red head. “I dunno, Miss,” he replied miserably. “Maybe 'tis -on account av him--the eye av him--the way av him--divil such a man did -I ever meet--God bless him! Shure, Misther Geary do be the fine lad, but -he--he----” - -“Mr. Geary never put a big forefinger under your chin and bade you hold -up your head. Is that it?” - -“'Tis not what he did, Miss, but the way he did it. All the fiends -av hell 'll be at me this night to shpend what he give me--and I--I'm -afraid----” - -He broke off, mumbling and chattering like a man in the grip of a great -terror. In his agony of body and spirit, Dolores could have wept for Don -Juan Cafetéro, for in that supreme moment the derelict's soul was bare, -revealing something pure and sweet and human, for all his degradation. -How did Jack Webster know? wondered Dolores. And why did he so -confidently give an order to this human flotsam and expect it to be -obeyed? And why did Don Juan Cafetéro come whining to her for strength -to help him obey it? Through the murk of her girlish unsophstication -and scant knowledge of human nature these and other questions obtruded -themselves, the while she gazed down at Don Juan's dirty, quivering -hand that held the coin toward her. And presently the answer came--a -quotation long since learned and forgotten: - - Be noble--and the nobleness that lies in other men, - - Sleeping but never dead, - - Will rise in majesty to meet thine own. - -“I will not spoil his handiwork,” she told herself, and she stepped -down off the veranda to a position directly in front of Don Juan. “That -wouldn't be playing the game,” she told him. “I can't help you deceive -him. You are the first of your breed----” - -“Don't say it,” he cried. “Didn't he tell me wanst?” - -“Then make the fight, Don--Mr. Cafferty.” She lowered her voice. “I am -depending on you to stay sober and guard him. He needs a faithful friend -so badly, now that Mr. Geary is away.” She patted the grimy hand and -left him staring at the ground. Presently he sighed, quivered horribly, -and shambled out of the _patio_ on to the firing-line. And when he -reported to Jack Webster at nine o'clock next morning, he was sober, -shaking horribly and on the verge of _delirium tremens_, but tightly -clasped in his right hand he held that five-dollar piece. Dolores, who -had made it her business to be present at the interview, heard John -Stuart Webster say heartily: - -“The finest thing about a terrible fight, friend Cafferty, is that if -it is a worth-while battle, the spoils of victory are exceedingly sweet. -You are how about to enjoy one fourth of the said spoils--a large jolt -of _aguardiente!_ You must have it to steady your nerves. Go to the -nearest _cantina_ and buy one drink; then come back with the change. By -that time I shall have breakfasted and you and I will then go shopping. -At noon you shall have another drink; at four o'clock another; and -just before retiring you shall have the fourth and last for this day. -Remember, Cafferty: one jolt--no more--and then back here with the exact -change.” - -As Don Juan scurried for salvation, Webster turned to Dolores. “He'll -fail me now, but that will not be his fault but mine. I've set him -too great a task in his present weakened condition. In the process of -exchanging American gold for the local shin-plasters, he'll skin me to -death and emerge from the transaction with a full quart bottle in excess -of his drink. Nevertheless, to use a colloquial expression, I have the -Cafferty goat--and I'm going to keep it.” - -Webster went immediately to his room, called for pen and paper, and -proceeded at once to do that which he had never done before--to wit, -prepare his last will and testament. For the first time in his career -death threatened while he had money in his possession, and while he had -before him for performance a task requiring the expenditure of money, -his manifest duty, therefore, was to guarantee the performance of -that task, win, lose, or draw in the game of life; so in a few brief -paragraphs John Stuart Webster made a holographic will and split his -bankroll equally between the two human beings he cared for most--Billy -Geary and Dolores Huey. “Bill's a gambler like me,” he ruminated; “so -I'll play safe. The girl is a conservative, and after Bill's wad is -gone, he'd be boiled in oil before he'd prejudice hers.” - -Having made his will, Webster made a copy of it. The original he placed -in an envelope, sealed, and marked: “Last Will and Testament of John S. -Webster, of Denver, Colorado, U. S. A. To be delivered to William H. -Geary upon the death of the testator.” The copy he also placed in an -envelope marked: “From Jack. Not to be opened until after my death.” - This envelope he then enclosed in a larger one and mailed to Billy at -Calle de Concordia No. 19. - -Having made his few simple preparations for death, Mr. Webster next -burrowed in his trunk, brought forth his big army-type automatic pistol -and secured it in a holster under his arm, for he deemed it unwise and -provocative of curiosity to appear in immaculate ducks that bulged -at the right hip. Next he filled two spare clips with cartridges -and slipped them into his pocket, thus completing his few simple -preparations for life. - -He glanced out the window at the sun. There would still be an hour of -daylight; so he descended to the lobby, called a carriage and drove to -the residence of the American consulate. - -Lemuel Tolliver, formerly proprietor of a small retail wood and coal -yard in Hastings, Nebraska, was the consul. He talked through his nose, -employed double negatives, chewed tobacco, wore celluloid cuffs and -collar, and received Mr. Webster in his shirt sleeves. He was the type -of small-town peanut politician who never forgets for an instant that to -be an American is greater than to be a king, and who strives assiduously -to exhibit his horrible idea of American democracy to all and sundry, to -his own profound satisfaction and the shame of his visiting countrymen. - -He glanced at the card which Webster had sent in by his clerk. “Well, -sir!” he began briskly. “Delighted to know you, Mr. Webster. Ain't there -nothin' I can do for you?” - -“Thank you. There is. This is my will. Please put it in your safe until -I or my executor shall call for it.” - -“What!” boomed the Honourable Tolliver. “You ain't thinkin' o' dyin', -are yuh?” he laughed. - -“Listen,” Webster urged him, and Mr. Tolliver helped himself to a fresh -bite of chewing-tobacco and inclined his head. Briefly, but without -omitting a single important detail, Webster told the consul of his -adventure in New Orleans with the secret service representative of the -Republic of Sobrante. “And not an hour since,” he concluded, “I was -informed, through a source I consider reliable, that I am in momentary -danger of assassination at the hands of two men whose names I know.” - -“Well, don't tell me nothin' about it,” Mr. Tolliver interrupted. “I'm -here on Government affairs, not to straighten out private quarrels. If -you're figurin' on gittin' killed, my advice to you is to git out o' the -country P. D. Q.” - -“You overlook the fact that I didn't come here for advice, my dear Mr. -Consul,” Webster reminded him with some asperity. “I'm not at all afraid -of getting killed. What is worrying me is the certainty that I'll get -there first with the most guns, and if I should, in self-defense, be -forced to eliminate two Sobrantean army officers, I want to know what -you're going to do to protect me. I want to make an affidavit that my -life is in danger; I want my witness to make a similar affidavit, and -I want to file those affidavits with you, to be adduced as evidence to -support my plea of selfdefense. In other words, I want to have these -affidavits, with the power of the United States back of them, to spring -in case the Sobrantean government tries to railroad me for murder--and I -want you to spring them for me.” - -“I won't do nothin' o' the kind,” Mr. Tolliver declared bluntly. “You -got plenty o' chance to get out o' this country an' save international -complications. _La Estrellita_ pulls out to-morrow mornin', an' you pull -with her, or stay an' take your own chances. I ain't prejudicin' my job -by makin' myself _nux vomica_ to the Sobrantean government--an' that's -just what will happen if I mix up in this private quarrel.” - -“But, my dear Mr. Consul, I am going into business here--the mining -business. I have every right in this country, and it is your duty to -protect my rights while here. I can't side-step a fight just to hold you -in your job.” - -“It's a matter outside my jurisdiction,” Mr. Tolliver declared with -such a note of finality in his voice that Webster saw the uselessness of -further argument. - -“All right,” he replied, holding his temper as best he could. “I'm glad -to know you think so much of your job. I may live long enough to find -an opportunity to kick you out of it and run this consulate myself. I'll -send my affidavits direct to the State department at Washington; you -take orders from Washington, I dare say.” - -“When I get them. Good day.” - -John Stuart Webster left the American consulate in a frenzy of -inarticulate rage in the knowledge that he was an American and -represented in Sobrante by such an invertebrate as the Honourable Lemuel -Tolliver. At the Hotel Mateo he dismissed the carriage, climbed the -three short steps to the entrance and was passing through the revolving -portal, when from his rear some one gave the door a violent shove, with -the result that the turnstile partition behind him collided with his -back with sufficient force to throw him against the partition in front. -Instantly the door ceased to pivot, with Webster locked neatly in the -triangular space between the two sections of the revolving door and the -jamb. - -He turned and beheld in the section behind him an officer of the -Sobrantean army. This individual, observing he was under Webster's -scrutiny, scowled and peremptorily motioned to Webster to proceed--which -the latter did, with such violence that the door, continuing to revolve, -caught up with the Sobrantean and subjected him to the same indignity to -which he had subjected Webster. - -Once free of the door, Webster waited just inside the lobby for the -Sobrantean to conclude his precipitate entrance. When he did, Webster -looked him over with mild curiosity and bowed with great condescension. -“Did any gentleman ever tell the senor that he is an ill-mannered -monkey?” he queried coolly in excellent Spanish. “If not, I desire to -give the senor that information, and to tell him that his size alone -prevents me from giving him a nice little spanking.” - -“Pig!” the rude one answered hotly. His olive features paled with anger, -he trembled with emotion and seemed undecided what to do--seeing -which Webster grinned at him tantalizingly. That decided him. No -Latin-American, with the exaggerated ego of his race, can bear even a -suspicion of ridicule. The officer walked fiercely toward Webster and -swung his arm toward the latter's face in an effort to land a slap that -was “meant.” - -Webster merely threw back his head and avoided the blow; his long left -arm shot out and beat down the Sobrantean's guard; then Webster's right -hand closed around the officer's collar. “Come to me, thou insolent -little one,” he crooned, and jerked his assailant toward him, gathered -him up in his arms, carried him, kicking and screaming with futile rage, -out into the _patio_ and soused him in the fountain. - -“Now, then, spitfire, that will cool your hot head, I trust,” he -admonished his unhappy victim, and returned to the hotel. At the desk he -paused. - -“Who was that person I just bathed?” he inquired of the excited clerk. - -“Ah, senor, you shall not long be kept in ignorance,” that functionary -informed him. “That is the terrible Captain Benavides----” - -“Do you know, I had a notion it was he?” Webster replied ruminatively. -“Well, I suppose I'm in for a duel now,” he added to himself as he -climbed the stairs to his room. “I think that will be most interesting.” - -John Stuart Webster changed into dry clothing and descended to the -dining room. Miss Ruey was already seated at her table and motioned him -to the seat opposite her, and as he sat down with a contented little -sigh, she gazed at him with a newer and more alert interest. - -“I hear you've been having adventures again,” she challenged. “The news -is all over the hotel. I heard it from the head waiter.” - -“Coffee and pistols for two at daylight,” he answered cheerily. -“Whenever I see trouble coming and realize that I cannot possibly avoid -it, I generally take the bull by the horns, so to speak, and go forth -to meet it. I have discovered from experience that the surprise of the -attack generally disorganizes the other fellow, for few people care to -fight an eager enemy. I see you have sampled the soup. Is it good?” - -“Excellent. I marvel that your appetite is so keen, considering the -gloomy outlook.” - -“Oh, there won't be any trouble,” he assured her. “Duelling is silly, -and I wouldn't engage in it on a bet. By the way, I have made my will, -just to be on the safe side. Will you be good enough to take charge of -it until after the funeral? You can turn it over to Billy then.” - -She fell readily into the bantering spirit with which he treated this -serious subject. Indeed, it was quite impossible to do otherwise, for -John Stuart Webster's personality radiated such a feeling of security, -of absolute, unbounded confidence in the future and disdain for whatever -of good fortune or ill the future might entail, that Dolores, found it -impossible not to assimilate his mood. - -At seven-thirty, after a delightful dinner, the memory of which Mr. -Webster was certain would linger under his foretop long after every -other memory had departed, he escorted her to the open carriage he had -ordered, and for two hours they circled the Malecon with the élite of -Buenaventura, listening to the music of the band, and during the brief -intermissions, to the sound of the waves lapping the beach at the foot -of the broad driveway. - -“This,” said John Stuart Webster, as he said goodnight to Dolores in the -lobby, “is the end of a perfect day.” - -It wasn't, for at that precise moment a servant handed him a card, and -indicated a young man seated in an adjacent lounging-chair, at the same -time volunteering the information that the visitor had been awaiting -Senor Webster's return for the past hour. - -Webster glanced at the card and strode over to the young man. “I am Mr. -Webster, sir,” he announced civilly in Spanish. “And you are Lieutenant -Arredondo?” - -The visitor rose, bowed low and indicated he was that gentleman. “I -have called, Mr. Webster,” he stated in most excellent English, “in the -interest of my friend and comrade, Captain Benavides.” - -“Ah, yes! The fresh little rooster I ducked in the fountain this -evening. Well, what does the little squirt want now? Another ducking?” - -Arredondo flushed angrily but remembered the dignity of his mission and -controlled his temper. “Captain Benavides has asked me to express to you -the hope that you, being doubtless a man of honour----” - -“Stop right there, Lieutenant. There is no doubt about it. I _am_ a man -of honour, and unless you are anxious to be ducked in the fountain, you -will be more careful in your choice of words. Now, then: You are about -to say that, being a man of honour----” - -“You would accord my friend the satisfaction which one gentleman never -fails to accord another.” - -“That lets me out, _amigo_.” Webster laughed. “Benavides isn't a -gentleman. He's a cutthroat, a murdering little black-and-tan hound. Do -I understand he wants me to fight a duel with him?” - -Lieutenant Arredondo could not trust himself to speak, and so he bowed -profoundly. - -“Very well, then, Lieutenant,” Webster agreed. “I'll fight him.” - -“To-morrow morning at five o'clock.” - -“Five minutes from now if you say so.” - -“Captain Benavides will be grateful for your willing spirit, at least,” - the second replied bitterly. “You realize, of course, Mr. Webster, that -as the challenged party, the choice of weapons rests with you.” - -“Certainly. I wouldn't have risked a duel if the choice lay with the -other fellow. With your permission, my dear sir, we'll fight with Mauser -rifles at a thousand yards, for the reason that I never knew a greaser -that could hit the broad side of a brewery at any range over two hundred -and fifty yards.” Webster chuckled fiendishly. - -Lieutenant Arredondo bit his lips in anger and vexation. “I cannot -agree to such an extraordinary duel,” he complained. “Have you no other -choice?” - -“Well, since a fight at long range doesn't suit you, suppose we have one -at close range. I propose that our seconds handcuff us together by our -left wrists, give each of us a knife and leave us alone in a room for a -couple of minutes.” - -“My friend, Captain Benavides, sir, is not a butcher,” Arredondo -reminded Mr. Webster acidly. “In such a fight as you describe, he would -be at a great disadvantage.” - -“You're whistling--he would. I'd swing him around my head with my left -hand and dash his fool brains out.” - -“It is the custom in Sobrante for gentlemen to fight with rapiers.” - -“Oh, dry up, you sneaking murderer,” Webster exploded. “There isn't -going to be any duel except on my terms--so you might as well take a -straight tip from headquarters and stick to plain assassination. You and -Benavides have been sent out by your superior to kill me--you got your -orders this very afternoon at the entrance to the government palace--and -I'm just not going to be killed. I don't like the way you part your -hair, and I despise a man who uses cologne and wears his handkerchief up -his sleeve; so beat it, boy, while the going is good.” He pointed toward -the hotel door. “Out, you blackguard!” he roared. “_Vaya!_” - -Lieutenant Arredondo rose and with dignified mien started for the door. -Webster followed, and as his visitor reached the portal, a tremendous -kick, well placed, lifted him down to the sidewalk. Shrieking curses, he -fled into the night; and John Stuart Webster, with a satisfied feeling -that something accomplished had earned a night's repose, retired to -his room and his mauve silk pyjamas, and slept the sleep of a healthy, -conscience-free man. It did occur to him that the morrow would almost -certainly bring forth something unpleasant, but that prospect did not -worry him. John Stuart Webster had a religion all his own, and one -of the principal tenets of this faith of his was an experience-born -conviction that to-morrow is always another day. - -At about the same hour Neddy Jerome, playing solitaire in the Engineers' -Club in Denver, was the recipient of a cablegram which read: - -_If W. cables accepting reply rejecting account job filled otherwise -beans spilled. Implicit obedience spells victory._ - -_Henrietta._ - -Neddy Jerome wiped his spectacles, adjusted them on his nose and read -this amazing message once more. “Jumped-up Jehosophat!” he murmured. “If -she hasn't followed that madcap Webster clear to Buenaventura! If she -isn't out in earnest to earn her fee, I'm an orang-outang! By thunder, -that's a smart woman. Evidently she has Jack winging; he is willing to -return and go to work for me, but for reasons of her own she doesn't -want him to win too easy a victory. Well, I guess she knows her own -game better than I do; so I should worry how she plays it. 'Implicit -obedience spells victory.' Victory means that crazy Webster takes the -job I offered him. All right! I'll be implicitly obedient.” - -Two hours later Neddy Jerome received another cablegram. It was from -John Stuart Webster and read as follows: - -Hold job ninety days at latest may be back before. If satisfactory -cable. - -Again Mr. Jerome had recourse to the most powerful expletive at -his command. “Henrietta knew he was going to cable and beat the -old sour-dough to it,” he soliloquized. He was wrapped in profound -admiration of her cunning for as much as five minutes; then he indicted -this reply to his victim: - -_Time, tide and good jobs wait for no man. Sorry. Job already filled by -better man._ - -When John Stuart Webster received that cablegram the following morning, -he cursed bitterly--not because he had lost the best job that had ever -been offered him, but because he had lost through playing a good hand -poorly. He hated himself for his idiocy. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -|FOR fully an hour after retiring John Stuart Webster slept the deep, -untroubled sleep of a healthy, unworried man; then one of the many -species of “jigger” which flourish just north and south of the equator -crawled into bed with him and promptly proceeded to establish its -commissary on the inner flank of the Websterian thigh, where the skin is -thin and the blood close to the surface. As a consequence, Mr. Webster -awoke suddenly, obliterated the intruder and got out of bed for the -purpose of anointing the injured spot with alcohol--which being done, an -active search of the bed resulted in the discovery of three more -jiggers and the envelopment of John Stuart Webster's soul in the fogs of -apprehension. Wide awake, he sat on the edge of the bed, massaging his -toes and wondering what he should do about it. From a contemplation -of his own case his mind wandered to Dolores Ruey. He wondered if the -jiggers were picking on her, too--poor girl! Strange that Billy hadn't -warned him against these infernal insects--probably it was because Billy -resided at El Buen Amigo, where, for some mysterious reason, the jigger -was not. - -“'Tis an evil land, filled with trouble,” he mused as he lighted a -cigarette. “I wish Bill were here to advise me. He's been long enough -in this country to know the lay of the ground and all the government -officials. He ought to be able to straighten this deal out and assure -the higher-ups that I'm not butting in on their political affairs. But -Bill's up-country and here I am under surveillance and unable to leave -the hotel to talk it over with Andrew Bowers, the only other white -expert I know of in town. And by the way, they're after Andrew, too! I -wonder what for.” - -He smoked two more cigarettes, the while he pondered the various visible -aspects of this dark mess in which he found himself floundering. And -finally he arrived at a decision. He was well assured that his every -movement was being watched and reported upon; doubtless the fact that -he had gone to bed at ten o'clock had already been noted! “These chaps -aren't thorough, though,” Webster decided. “They'll see me safely to -bed and pick me up again in the morning--so I'll take a chance that the -coast is clear, slip out now and talk it over with Andrew.” - -He looked at his watch--eleven-thirty. Hurriedly he dressed, strapped on -his automatic pistol, dragged his bed noiselessly to the open window and -tied to the bed-leg the rope he used to lash his trunk; then he lowered -himself out the window. The length of rope permitted him to descend -within a few feet of the ground, and he dropped with a light thud on to -the soft earth of the _patio_. The thrifty landlord had already turned -out all the electric lights, and the _patio_ was dark. - -Webster made his way to the street unnoticed, circled the block, found -a policeman seated sound asleep on the curb of the narrow sidewalk, woke -him up and inquired for the Calle de Concordia; and ten minutes later he -appeared before the entrance of El Buen Amigo just as Mother Jenks was -barring it for the night. - -“I am Mr. Webster,” he announced, “--Mr. Geary's friend from the United -States.” - -Mother Jenks, having heard of him, was of course profoundly flustered to -meet this toff who so carelessly wired his down-and-out friends _pesos -oro_ in lots of a thousand. Cordially she invited him within to stow a -peg of her best, which invitation Mr. Webster promptly accepted. - -“To your beautiful eyes,” Webster toasted her. “And now would you mind -leading me to the quarters of Billy's friend Mr. Bowers?” - -Mother Jenks looked at him sharply. “Wot's up, sir?” she asked. - -“Blessed if I know, Mrs. Jenks. I've come to find out.” - -“Then you've not come a second too soon, sir. 'E's leavin' at daylight. -I'd better hannounce you, sir.'E's particular wot company 'e receives.” - -She shuffled away, to return presently with the news that Mr. Bowers was -in his room and would be delighted to receive Mr. Webster. Mother Jenks -led Webster to the door, knocked, announced him and discreetly withdrew. - -“My dear Webster!” cried Andrew Bowers enthusiastically, and he drew his -late fellow-passenger into the room. Webster observed that Andrew was -not alone. “I want to see you privately,” he said. “Didn't know you had -company, or I wouldn't have intruded.” - -“Well, I knew I had company, didn't I? Come in, you crazy fellow, and -meet some good friends of mine who are very anxious to meet you,” He -turned to a tall, handsome, scholarly looking man of about forty, whose -features, dress, and manner of wearing his whiskers proclaimed him a -personage. “Dr. Eliseo Pacheco, I have the honour to present Mr. John S. -Webster, the American gentleman of whom you have heard me speak.” - -Doctor Pacheco promptly leaped to his feet and bowed with ostentatious -reverence; then suddenly, with Latin impulsiveness, he advanced upon -Webster, swept aside the latter's outstretched hand, clasped John Stuart -Webster in fraternal embrace, and to the old sour-dough's inexpressible -horror, kissed him upon the right cheek--after which he backed off, -bowed once more, and said in Spanish: - -“Sir, my life is yours.” - -“It is well he gave it to you before you took it,” Andrew said in -English, and he laughed, noting Webster's confusion. “And this gentleman -is Colonel Pablo Caraveo.” - -“Thunder, I'm in for it again,” Webster thought--and he was, for the -amiable colonel embraced Webster and kissed his left cheek before -turning to Andrew. - -“You will convey to our guest, in English, Don Ricardo, assurances of my -profound happiness in meeting him,” he said in Spanish. - -“The Colonel says you're all to the mustard,” Andrew at once interpreted -merrily. - -“Rather a liberal translation,” Webster retorted in Spanish, whereat -Colonel Caraveo sprang up and clapped his hands in delight. Evidently he -had looked forward with considerable interest to meeting Webster and had -had his contentment clouded by the thought that Andrew's gringo friend -could not speak Spanish. - -“Your happiness, my dear Colonel,” Webster continued, “is extravagant -grief compared with my delight in meeting a Sobrantean gentleman who has -no desire to skewer me.” He turned to Andrew. “While introductions are -in order, old son, suppose you complete the job and introduce yourself. -I'm always suspicious of a man with an alias.” - -“Then behold the death of that impudent fellow Andrew Bowers, late -_valet de chambre_ to this eminent mining engineer and prince of -gentlemen, Mr. John Stuart Webster. Doctor Pacheco, will you be good -enough to perform the operation?” - -“This gentleman,” said the doctor, laying his hand on Andrew's shoulder, -“is Don Ricardo Luiz Ruey, a gentleman, a patriot, and the future -president of our unhappy country.” - -Webster put his hands on the young man's shoulders. “Ricardo my son,” he -asked earnestly, “do you think you could give me some little hint of the -approximate date on which you will assume office? By the nine gods of -war, I never wanted a friend at court so badly as I want one to-night.” - -Doctor Pacheco, Colonel Caraveo, and Ricardo Ruey exchanged glances -and laughed heartily. “I must introduce him to Captain Benavides and -Lieutenant Arredondo,” the Colonel said slyly. - -“What!” Webster was amazed. “You know about it already?” - -“Better than that, friend Webster. We knew about it before it happened. -That is, we knew it was going to happen,” Ricardo informed him.. - -Webster sat down and helped himself from a box of cigars he found on -Ricardo's bureau. “I feel I am among friends at last,” he announced -between preliminary puffs; “so listen while I spin a strange tale. -I've been the picture of bad luck ever since I started for this -infernal--this wonderful country of yours. After leaving Denver for New -Orleans, I came within a whisker of dying of ptomaine poisoning. Then -in New Orleans I took a Sunday-morning stroll in Jackson Square and -came across two men trying to knife another. In the interest of common -decency I interfered and won a sweeping victory, but to my amazement the -prospective corpse took to his heels and advised me to do the same.” - -Ricardo Ruey sprang for John Stuart Webster. “By George,” he said in -English, “I'm going to hug you, too. I really ought to kiss you, because -I'm that man you saved from assassination, but--too long in the -U.S.A., I suppose; I've lost the customs of my country.” - -“Get out,” yelled Webster, fending him off. “Did you lose anything in -that fracas?” - -“Yes, a Malacca stick.” - -“I have it.” - -“Holy Moses! Jack--I'm going to call you Jack--why didn't you say -something about this while we were on the steamer together?” - -“Why, we played crib' and dominoes most of the way down, when I wasn't -seasick, and we talked about other things. By the way, Ricardo--I'm -going to call you Rick for short--do you happen to have any relatives in -this country?” - -“Yes, a number of second and third cousins. One lot bears the same -family name.” - -“No relatives in the United States?” - -“No.” - -“Coming down on the steamer, I didn't like to appear curious, but all -the time I wanted to ask you one question.” - -“Ask it now.” - -“Are you a Sobrantean?” - -“I was born in this country and raised here until I was fourteen.” - -“But you're--why, hang it, you're not a Latin?” - -“No, I'm a mixture, with Latin predominating. My forbears were pure -Castilians from Madrid, and crossed the Western Ocean in caravels. It's -been a matter of pride with the house of Ruey to keep the breed pure, -but despite all precautions, the family tree has been grafted once -with a Scotch thistle, twice with the lily of France, and once with the -shamrock of Ireland. My mother was an Irishwoman.” - -“You alibi yourself perfectly, Ricardo, and my curiosity is appeased. -Permit me to continue my tale,” he added in Spanish; and forthwith -he related with humorous detail his adventure at the gangplank of the -steamer that had borne him and Ricardo Ruey south. Ricardo interrupted -him. “We know all about that, friend Webster, and we knew the two -delightful gentlemen had been told off to get you--unofficially.” - -“How did you find out?” - -“A leak in the Intelligence Bureau, of which our friend Colonel Caraveo -is an assistant chief.” - -“Explain,” Webster demanded peremptorily. “Why all this intrigue -extending to two countries and private individuals?” - -“Certainly. The Sobrantean revolutionary junta has headquarters in New -Orleans. It is composed of political exiles, for Sarros, the present -dictator of Sobrante, rules with an iron hand, and has a cute little -habit of railroading his enemies to the cemetery via the treason -charge and the firing-squad. Quite a quaint fellow, Sarros! Robs the -proletariat and spends it on the army with a lavish hand, and so in -sheer gratitude they keep him in office. Besides, it's a sign of bad -luck to oppose him at the regular elections. Well, he--he killed my -father, who was the best president this benighted country ever had, and -I consider it my Christian duty to avenge my father and a patriotic duty -to take up the task he left unfinished--the task of making over my -country. - -“In Sobrante, as in most of the countries in Central America, there -are two distinct classes of people--the aristocrats and peons--and the -aristocrat fattens on the peon, as he has had a habit of doing since -Adam. We haven't any middle class to stand as a buffer between the -two--which makes it a sad proposition. My father was an idealist and -a dreamer and he dreamed of reform in government and a solution of the -agrarian problem which confronts all Latin-America. Moreover, he trusted -the common people--and one should not trust this generation of peons. We -must have fifty years of education--free and compulsory--first. - -“My father headed a revolution that was brief and practically bloodless, -and the better to do the task he had set himself, he created a -dictatorship with himself as dictator--this because he was shy on good -cabinet and legislative material, the kind he could trust to play fair -with the people.” - -Ricardo paused. “You are interested in all this, my friend?” he asked. - -“It has an old, familiar sound, but crack along.” - -“My father, being human, erred. He trusted one Pablo Sarros, an educated -peon, who had commanded the government forces under the regime my father -overthrew. My tender-hearted parent discovered that Sarros was plotting -to overthrow him; but instead of having him shot, he merely removed him -from command. Sarros gathered a handful of bandits, joined with the old -government forces my father had conquered, hired a couple dozen Yankee -artillerymen and--he won out. My father was captured and executed; the -palace was burned, and my sister perished in the flames. I'm here to pay -off the score.” - -“A worthy ambition! So you organized the revolutionary junta in New -Orleans, eh?” - -Ricardo nodded. “Word of it reached Sarros, and he sent his brother -Raoul, chief of the Intelligence Bureau, to investigate and report. As -fast as he reported, Colonel Caraveo reported to me. Sarros and his gang -are just a little bit afraid of me, because he's about as popular with -the people as a typhus epidemic, and strange to say, this curiously -mercurial people have not forgotten the brief reign of his predecessor. -My father's son possesses a name to conjure with. Consequently it was -to the interest of the Sarros administration that I be eliminated. They -watched every boat; hence my scheme for eluding their vigilance--which, -thanks to you, worked like a charm.” - -“But,” Webster complained, “I'm not sitting in the game at all, and yet -I'm caught between the upper and nether millstones.” - -“That is easy to explain. You interfered that morning in Jackson Square; -then Raoul Sarros met you going aboard the steamer for Buenaventura and -you manhandled him; and naturally, putting two and two together, he has -concluded that you are not only his personal enemy but also a friend and -protector of mine and consequently an enemy of the state.” - -“And as a consequence I'm marked for slaughter?” - -“The first plan considered,” said Colonel Càraveo, gravely, “was -for Captain Benavides, who is an expert swordsman and a marvellous -pistol-shot, to pick a quarrel with you.” - -“No hope, Colonel. I manhandled 'em both and declined to fight on their -terms. I suppose now I'll just naturally be assassinated.” - -“It would be well, my friend,” Doctor Pacheco suggested, “to return to -the United States until after Ricardo and his friends have eliminated -your Nemesis.” - -“How soon will that happy event transpire?” - -“In about sixty days we hope to be ready to strike, Mr. Webster.” - -“We are recruiting our men secretly,” Ricardo explained. “Our base -is back in the hills beyond San Miguel de Padua. I'm going up there -to-morrow.” - -“I was going up to San Miguel de Padua in a day or two myself, Rick, -but I'll be hanged if I know what to do now. I'm beginning to worry--and -that's a new experience with me.” - -Colonel Caraveo cleared his throat. “I understand from Ricardo that -you and another American are interested in a mining concession, Mr. -Webster.” - -Webster nodded. - -Al-*~ - -“Is this a private landholder, or did your friend secure it from the -Sarros government?” - -“From the government. We pay ten per cent, royalty, on a -ninety-nine-year lease, and that's all I know about it. I have never -seen the property, and my object in coming was to examine it and, if -satisfied, finance the project.” - -“If you will return to your hotel, my dear sir,” Colonel Caraveo -suggested, “and remain there until noon to-morrow, I feel confident -I can guarantee you immunity from attack thereafter. I have a plan to -influence my associates in the Intelligence Office.” - -“Bully for you, Colonel. Give me sixty days in which to operate, and -I'll have finished my job in Sobrante and gotten out of it before that -gang of cutthroats wakes up to the fact that I'm gone. I thank you, -sir.” - -“The least we can do, since you have saved Ricardo's life and rendered -our cause a great service, is to save your life,” Colonel Caraveo -replied. - -“This is more comfort than I had hoped for when I came here, gentlemen. -I am very grateful, I assure you. Of course this little revolution -you're cooking up is no affair of mine, and I trust I need not assure -you that your confidence is quite safe with me.” - -The Doctor and the Colonel immediately rose and bowed like a pair of -marionettes. Webster turned to Ricardo. - -“Have you had any experience in revolutions, my son?” he asked. - -Ricardo nodded. “I realized I had to have experience, and so I went to -Mexico. I was with Madero through the first revolution.” - -“How are you arming your men?” - -“Mannlichers. I've got five thousand of them. Cost me twelve dollars -each. I've got twenty million rounds of cartridges, twenty-five -machine-guns, and a dozen three-inch field-guns. I have also engaged two -hundred American ex-soldiers to handle the machine-guns and the battery. -These rascals cost me five dollars a day gold, but they're worth it; -they like fighting and will go anywhere to get it--and are faithful.” - -“You are secretly mobilizing in the mountains, eh?” Webster rubbed his -chin ruminatively. “Then I take it you'll attack Buenaventura when you -strike the first blow?” - -“Quite right. We must capture a seaport if we are to revolute -successfully.” - -“I'm glad to know that. I'll make it my business to be up in the -mountains at the time. I'm for peace, every rattle out of the box. -Gentlemen, you've cheered me wonderfully. I will now go home and leave -you to your evil machinations; and, the good Lord and the jiggers -willing, I shall yet glean a night's sleep.” - -He shook hands all around and took his departure. Mother Jenks was -waiting for Webster at the foot of the stairs. He paused on the -threshold. - -“Mrs. Jenks,” he said, “Billy tells me you have been very kind to him. I -want to tell you how much I appreciate it and that I stand willing to -reciprocate any time you are in need.” - -Mother Jenks fingered her beard and reflected. “'Ave you met Miss -Dolores Ruey, sir?” she queried. - -“Your ward? Yes.” - -“'Ow does the lamb strike you, Mr. Webster?” - -“I have never met many women; I have known few intimately; but I should -say that Miss Dolores Ruey is the marvel of her sex. She is as beautiful -as she is good, as good as she is intelligent, and as intelligent as she -can be.” - -“She's a lydy, sir,” Mother Jenks affirmed proudly. “An' I done it. You -can see with arf a heye wot I am, but for all that, I've done my dooty -by her. From the day my sainted 'Enery-- 'e was a colonel o' hartillery -under President Ruey, Dolores's father--hescaped from the burnin' palace -with 'er an' told me to raise 'er a lydy for the syke of her father, as -was the finest gentleman this rotten country 'll ever see, she's been my -guidin' star. She's self-supportin' now, but still I ain't done my whole -dooty by her. I want to see 'er married to a gentleman as 'll maintain -'er like a lydy.” - -“Well, Mrs. Jenks, I think you will live to see that worthy ambition, -attained. Mr. Geary is head over heels in love with her.” - -“Aye. Willie's a nice lad--I could wish no better; but wot 'e's got 'e -got from you, an' where'll 'e be if 'is mine doesn't p'y big? Now, with -you, sir, it's different. You're a bit oldern' Billy, an' more settled -an' serious; you've made yer fortune, so Willie tells me, an', not to go -beatin' about the bally bush, I s'y, wot's the matter with you an' her -steppin' over the broomstick together? You might go a bloomin' sight -farther an' fare wuss.” - -“Too old, my dear schemer, too old!” John Stuart replied smilingly. “And -she's in love with Billy. Don't worry. If he doesn't make a go of this -mining concession, I'll take care of his finances until he can do so -himself. I do not mind telling you, in strictest confidence, that I have -made my will and divided my money equally between them.” - -“Gord bless you, for a sweet, kind gentleman,” Mother Jenks gulped, -quite overcome with emotion. - -Hastily Webster bade Mother Jenks good-night and hurried away to -escape a discussion on such a delicate topic with Billy's blunt and -single-minded landlady. His mind was in a tumult. So it was that he paid -no attention to a vehicle that jogged by him with the _cochero_ sagging -low in his seat, half asleep over the reins, until a quick command from -the closed interior brought the vehicle to an abrupt halt, half a block -in advance of Webster. - -Save for an arc-light at each end of the block, the Calle de Concordia -was dim; save for Webster, the carriage and the two men who piled -hurriedly out at the rear of the conveyance, the Calle de Concordia was -devoid of life. Webster saw one of the men hurriedly toss a coin to the -_cochero_; with a fervent “_Gracias, mi capitan_,” the driver clucked -to his horse, turned the corner into the Calle Elizondo and disappeared, -leaving his late passengers facing Webster and calmly awaiting his -approach. He was within twenty feet of them when the taller of the two -men spoke. - -“Good evening, my American friend. This meeting is a pleasure we -scarcely hoped to have so soon. For the same we are indebted to -Lieutenant Arredondo, who happened to look back as we passed you, and -recognized you under the arc-light.” - -Webster halted abruptly; the two Sobrantean officers stood smiling and -evidently enjoying his discomfort. Each carried a service revolver in a -closed holster fastened to his sword-belt, but neither had as yet made -a move to draw--seeing which, Webster felt sufficiently reassured -to accept the unwelcome situation with a grace equal to that of his -enemies. - -“What? You two bad little boys up this late! I'm surprised,” he replied -in Spanish. He folded his arms, struck an attitude and surveyed them as -might an indignant father. “You kids have been up to some mischief,” he -added, as his right hand closed over the butt of his automatic, where -it lay snuggled in the open bolster under his left arm between his -shirt and coat. “Can it be possible you are going to take advantage of -superior numbers and the fact that you are both armed, to force me into -a duel on your terms, my dear Captain Benavides?” - -By a deferential bow, the unwholesome Benavides indicated that such were -his intentions. “Then,” said Webster, “as the challenged party I have -the choice of weapons. I choose pistols.” - -“At what range?” the Lieutenant asked with mock interest. - -“As we stand at present. I'm armed. Pull your hardware, you pretty pair -of polecats, and see if you can beat me to the draw.” - -Captain Benavides's jaw dropped slightly; with a quiet, deliberate -motion his hand stole to his holster-flap. Lieutenant Arredondo wet his -lips and glanced so apprehensively at his companion that Webster was -aware that here was a situation not to his liking. - -“You should use an open holster,” Webster taunted. “Come, come--unbutton -that holster-flap and get busy.” - -Benavides's hand came away from the holster. He was not the least bit -frightened, but his sense of proportion in matters of this kind was -undergoing a shake-up. - -“In disposing of any enemy in a gun fight, so a professional killer once -informed me,” Webster continued, “it is a good plan to put your first -bullet anywhere in the abdomen; the shock of a bullet there paralyzes -your opponent for a few seconds and prevents him from returning the -compliment, and in the interim you blow his brains out while he lies -looking at you. I have never had any practical experience in matters -of this kind, but I don't mind telling you that if I _must_ practise -on somebody, the good Lord could not have provided two more delightful -subjects.” - -He ceased speaking, and for nearly half a minute the three men appraised -each other. Benavides was smiling slightly; Arredondo was fidgeting; -Webster's glance never faltered from the Captain's nervous hand. - -“You would be very foolish to draw,” Webster then assured Benavides. “If -I am forced to kill you, it will be with profound regret. Suppose you -two dear, sweet children run along home and think this thing over. You -may change your mind by to-morrow morn----” - -The Captain's hand, with the speed of a juggler's, had flown to his -holster; but quick as he was, Webster was a split-second quicker. The -sound of his shot roared through the silent _calle_, and Benavides, with -his pistol half drawn, lifted a bloody, shattered hand from the butt as -Webster's automatic swept in a swift arc and covered Arredondo, whose -arms on the instant went skyward. - -“That wasn't a half-bad duel,” Webster remarked coldly. “Are you -not obliged to me, Captain, for not blowing your brains out--for -disregarding my finer instincts and refraining from shooting you first -through the abdomen? Bless you, my boy, I've been stuck for years -in places where the only sport consisted in seeing who could take a -revolver, shoot at a tin can and roll it farthest in three seconds. Let -me see your hand.” - -Benavides sullenly held up that dripping member, and Webster inspected -it at a respectful distance. “Steel-jacket bullet,” he informed the -wounded man. “Small hole--didn't do much damage. You'll be just as well -as ever in a month.” - -He helped himself to Arredondo's gun, flipped out the cylinder, -and slipped all six cartridges into his palm. Similarly he disarmed -Benavides, expressed his regret that circumstances had rendered it -imperative to use force, and strolled blithely down the _calle_. In the -darkened _patio_ he groped along the wall until he found the swinging -rope by which he had descended from his room--whereupon he removed his -shoes, tied the laces together, slung them around his neck, dug his toes -into the adobe wall and climbed briskly to his room. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -|THE next morning Webster waited until Dolores appeared and then -accompanied her into the dining room for breakfast. - -“Well, how did you pass your first night in Buenaventura?” she inquired, -in the manufacture of breakfast conversation. - -“Not very well. Jiggers bit me and woke me up, and finally I fell into -a trance and had a vision--about you. After that I couldn't get to sleep -again. I was fairly bursting to see you at breakfast and read your palm. -I've just discovered a wonderful system.” - -“Show me,” she flashed back at him, and she extended her little hand. He -picked it up gravely and with the dull tine of a fork made a great show -of tracing the lines on her palm. - -“You are about twenty-four years old, and your ancestors were pure-bred -Castilians who came from Madrid, crossing the Atlantic in caravels. Ever -since the first Ruey landed on this coast the family has been identified -with the government of the country in one way or another. Also, Scotch, -French, and Irish blood has been infused into the tribe; your mother -was an Irish woman. When you were quite a little girl, your father, Don -Ricardo Ruey, at that time president of Sobrante, failed to suppress -a revolution and was cornered in the government palace, which was set -afire. - -“Through the bravery and devotion of a cockney gentleman, Colonel Henry -Jenks, an artillery officer in your father's army, you were saved from -perishing in the burning palace. Colonel Jenks turned you over to his -spouse, now known as Mother Jenks, with instructions to raise you a -lydy, and Mother Jenks has carried out those instructions. Colonel Jenks -and your father were executed, and Mother Jenks sent you to the United -States to be educated. You had a brother, Ricardo Luis Ruey, older than -yourself by seven or eight years, I should judge. In some mysterious -manner you and your brother lost track of each other, and at the present -moment he believes you perished in the flames that gutted the government -palace. - -“You are of a proud, independent nature; you work at something for a -living, and inasmuch as you haven't been able to set aside a great deal -of money from your earnings, you are planning to terminate your visit -to your native land at an early date and return to the United States for -the purpose of getting back to work. These plans, however, will never be -consummated. - -“Why? Because you are to be married to a nice man and live happily ever -afterward; and about sixty days from now, if all goes well, I, John S. -Webster, am going to introduce you to your long-lost brother Ricarda You -will first see Ricardo riding at the head of his victorious rebel -troops as he enters Buenaventura. He will be the next president of this -wretched country, if, fortunately, he is not killed in the revolution he -is now fomenting against his father's ancient enemy. Your brother does -not know you are living, and it will be a proud and happy day for me -when I bring him to you. In the interim, what do you purpose having for -breakfast? Ham and eggs sunny side up, an omelette or a cereal?” - -He released her hand and favoured her with the boyish grin that always -had the effect of stripping the years from him as one strips the husk -from a ripe ear of com. She was gazing at him in wide-eyed amazement. - -“Oh, don't doubt me,” he pleaded. “It will all come out just as I have -told you. Of course, I don't go in for telling fortunes very often; I'm -a slow old horse to start, but once I sneak into the collar, something -has to give.” - -“Is my brother really alive?” - -“He was as late as midnight last night. Do you recall the chap I saved -from being assassinated in New Orleans?” - -“Yes.” - -“Your worthy brother. And do you recall the chauffeur whose passage to -this port I was forced to pay?” - -“Yes.” - -“The same individual. I sent him ashore in the launch with Billy, and -he has been housed at El Buen Amigo, but left early this morning for the -back-country to open a recruiting office.” - -“And you have known this all along and wouldn't tell me?” she reproved -him. - -“Didn't discover it until after I had left him last night; then I put -two and two together and made four.” - -“Oh, I can hardly believe it.” - -“I never lie.” - -“Never?” - -“I mean on serious matters. And you needn't cry about it, Miss Ruey. I -do not purpose being the bearer of welcome news and having my breakfast -ruined for my reward.” - -She reached across the little table and squeezed his big brown hand -impulsively. “You're the most wonderful man I ever knew. And does my -poor brother know I am living, Mr. Webster?” - -“No--and I'm not going to tell him. I think it will be much nicer to -restore you to each other on the steps of the government palace on the -day when the Ruey faction comes into its own again. That will make his -victory all the sweeter. I am the innocent bystander who started this -little drama, and by jingo, I want to finish it. Why, it has been years -and years since I've had any real sport.” - -“You're so kind!” - -“Not at all. My discovery of your brother was as accidental as falling -downstairs.” And he related to her his interview with Ricardo, whose -statements, when compared with the information gleaned from Mother -Jenks, had proved so illuminating. “By the way,” he continued, “where -was Ricardo when your father's ship of state went on the rocks?” - -“At school in a military academy in Kentucky. At least, so I was -informed by my cousins here shortly after my arrival, and prior to -losing caste with them because of my association, unchaperoned, with -Billy.” - -“It is a marvellous mix-up, which Ricardo can doubtless explain, Miss -Ruey. I know he believes his sister perished with her father; Mother -Jenks didn't know where he was and couldn't communicate with him--and -there you are. However, little old Jack Fix-it will bring you together -again in due course. In the interim, how about those eggs? Straight -up--or flip 'em?” - -She beamed across at him. “We are going to be such good, true friends, -aren't we?” she urged. He almost shivered, but managed a hypocritical -nod. “While we have only known each other twenty-four hours, it seems a -great deal longer than that--probably because Billy has told me so much -about you, and you're--so comfortable and easy to get acquainted with, -and I--I can't very well express my gratitude for what you've done--for -what you're going to do.” Her voice faltered; she smiled roguishly -through the tears of her emotion. “If I were only Billy, now, I could -put my arm across your shoulders and settle the matter by saying: -'Johnny, you old horsethief, you're all right.'” - -“The best thing to do would be to cease puffing me up with importance. -And now, before we climb out of the realm of romance and the improbable -to the more substantial plane of things for breakfast, just one brief -word of caution. Now that I have told you your brother lives and is in -Buenaventura, forget it until I mention it again, because his presence -here is his secret, not ours.” - -“All right, Caliph,” she agreed. “I think I shall call you that -hereafter. Like the late Caliph Haroun A! Raschid, it appears you have a -habit of prowling around o' nights in queer places, doing good deeds for -your subjects. But tell me about my brother. Describe him to me.” - -“Not now. Here comes the head waiter with a cablegram for me, I think.” - -That functionary came to their table and handed one of the familiar -yellow envelopes to each of them. - -“We'll excuse each other,” Dolores suggested. She read: - -Go you if I lose. I like you fine. - -You are a good, game little scout, and Jerome. - -She glanced across at Webster, whose face was a conflicting study of -emotions in which disappointment and amazement appeared to predominate. -“You ancient scoundrel,” she heard him murmur. - -“What ho, Caliph! Unpleasant news?” she ventured. - -“Yes--and no. I had one of the finest jobs in the world all staked -out--and now the boss cables me it's filled--by a better man.” - -“What are you going to do about it?” - -“Well--as soon as I've had my breakfast, I'm going to cable Neddy Jerome -and tell him I'm satisfied--satisfied to stay here and satisfied he's -a liar. You see, Miss Ruey, he objected vigorously to my coming here in -the first place--wanted me to take a thirty-day vacation and then manage -the Colorado Consolidated Mines Company, Limited, for him. I like Neddy -and would have been glad to go to work for his company, but of course -Billy comes first, and so I declined the offer. Later I changed my mind, -and last night I cabled him I'd accept if he'd wait sixty days--possibly -ninety; and now he replies that he's sorry, but the job is filled by a -better man. That's why I know he's a liar.” - -“I see. You figure there isn't a better mining engineer than you--eh, -Caliph?” - -He looked at her reproachfully. “No, but Neddy Jerome does, and I know -he does because he has taken the trouble to tell me so more than once. -And as a rule Neddy inclines toward the truth. However, it's just as -well----” He paused, staring hard at her. “By the way, you foretold -this! Why, this is amazing.” - -She could now have wept with laughter. “Well”--soberly--“I told you some -other things equally amazing, did I not?” - -“Yes, you told me other things more or less interesting, but you -_fore_told this. How do you account for that?” - -“The witness declines to answer, on the ground that she may incriminate -herself and be burned for a witch.” - -“Remarkable woman!” - -“You were about to remark that it is just as well----” - -“That Neddy's reconciled to losing me, because since cabling him -yesterday evening I've changed my mind again. I'm going to stay here -now.” - -“Indeed! Why?” - -“Just to be obstinate. Apparently I'm not wanted here by the powers that -be; so just to rile them I'm going to hang around Sobrante the way Grant -hung around Richmond and argue the question with them. By the way, I see -you received a cablegram also. Better news than mine, I hope.” - -She nodded. “I have a little business deal on back home. Haven't got -a great deal invested, but it looks as if I might make ten thousand -dollars.” - -He arched his eyebrows and favoured her with a little disapproving -grunt. Sounded like the prospectus of a fake mining promoter--yes, by -thunder, that was it. Dolores was a school teacher, and school teachers -and doctors are ever the mainstay of a swindler's sucker list. - -“You won ten dollars from me yesterday,” he challenged. “Bet you another -ten I can tell you the nature of your investment.” - -“Go you, if I lose!” Unconsciously she was learning the argot of the -male of the species, as exemplified in Neddy Jerome's cablegram. - -“It's a mining property.” - -“You win. It is,” she answered truthfully, starting to open her purse. - -“Quartz or placer?” - -“I don't know. Explain.” * - -He chuckled at her ignorance. “Quartz is goldbearing rock, and placer is -gold-bearing gravel.” - -“Then my mining property is placer, because it has lots of sand.” - -“I knew it, I knew it,” he warned her solemnly, and he shook an -admonitory finger at her. “Black sand, eh? Is the gold very fine?” - -“I think it is.” - -“Then you're stung good and deep--so don't delude yourself into thinking -you have ten thousand dollars coming. I never knew a proposition for -saving the fine gold in black sand that didn't turn out to be a fizzle. -It's the hardest thing in the world to save. Now, listen: You tell me -the name of the flim-flam artist that got you into this deal, and when -I get back to the United States I'll investigate the company; if it's -an out-and-out swindle, I'll take that promoter by the throat and choke -your money out of him, the scoundrel! It is just these fly-by-night -fellows that ruin the finest gambling game in the world and scare off -investors in legitimate mining propositions.” - -“Oh, you mustn't--really, Caliph. He's an old man, and I only did it to -help him out.” - -“There should be no sentiment in business, Miss Ruey.” - -“Oh, well, let's be cheerful and hopeful, Caliph, and discuss a more -important subject.” She was very serious now, for by her meddling she -had, she realized, so arranged matters that at a time when John -Stuart Webster's very life depended upon his immediate departure from -Buenaventura, he was planning to stay and face the music, just to be -obstinate. “You must reconsider your latest decision to remain in -this country,” she insisted. “Your life may be the price of liberty of -action, you know.” - -“'Give me liberty or give me death,'” quoted Webster. - -“But isn't Billy capable of developing the mine after you advance the -cash?” - -“I wouldn't advance him a cent for his mine until I had investigated it -myself.” - -“Then you should make some arrangements to safeguard yourself while -making the investigation, and leave Sobrante immediately thereafter. -Isn't that a sensible proposition?” - -“Very--if I felt like leaving Sobrante. But I do not. If that mining -concession is a potential winner, I'll have to stick around and make a -winner out of it before I go away and leave Bill in charge. Besides, I'm -worried about Bill. He's full of malarial fever, and last night I -got thinking about him and decided to send him back to the Colorado -mountains for a few months. This country is going to be in the throes -of a revolution; the chances are we will not be able to do much with our -property until the war is over, and I will be able to do that little. I -want some regular doctors to work on Bill so he'll be fit when he gets -back on the job.” - -As a matter of fact, this idea of sending Billy to the United States -had but that moment occurred to Jack Webster; he reflected now that this -plan was little short of an inspiration. It would give Billy and Dolores -an opportunity to marry and have a honeymoon; it would leave him free -of her disturbing presence, and enable him to leave Sobrante when the -Gearys should return. He resolved to speak to Billy about it. - -Dolores's voice broke in upon his cunning reflections. “But Billy tells -me you already have a fortune sufficient for the needs of a caliph -without a court. Why risk your precious life to acquire more? Money -isn't everything in life.” - -“No, but the game is.” - -“What game? Mining?” - -“The game of life.” - -“But this is the game of death.” - -“Which makes life all the sweeter if I can beat the game. Perhaps I can -better illustrate my point of view with a story. Some years ago I was -sent to Arizona to examine a mining property and report upon it; if -I advised its purchase, my principals were prepared to buy at my -valuation. Well, when I arrived, I found a miserable shanty close to a -shaft and dump, and in the shanty I found a weatherbeaten couple. -The woman was probably forty but looked fifty. The man had never been -anything but a hard-rock miner--four dollars a day had been the limit of -his earnings in any one day until he stumbled on some float, traced it -up, and located the claims I was there to examine and try to buy. - -“His wife had been a miner's daughter, knowing nothing but drudgery and -poverty and continuing that existence after marriage. For twenty years -she had been darning her husband's socks, washing his clothes, and -cooking his meals. Even after they uncovered the ledge, it wasn't worth -any more than the country rock to them unless they could sell it, -because the man had neither the money nor the ability to develop it -himself. He even lacked the ability to sell it, because it requires real -ability to unload any kind of a mine for a million dollars, and real -nerve on the part of the man who buys. I examined the mine, decided it -was cheap at a million dollars, and so reported to my principals. They -wired me to close, and so I took a sixty-day option in order to verify -the title. - -“Well, time passed, and one bright day I rode up to that shanty with a -deed and a certified check for a million dollars in my pocket; whereupon -I discovered the woman had had a change of heart and bucked over the -traces. No, siree! She would not sign that there deed--and inasmuch as -the claim was community property, her signature was vitally necessary. -She asked me so many questions, however, as to the size of the stamp -mill we would install and how many miners would be employed on the job, -that finally I saw the light and tried a shot in the dark. 'My dear -Mrs. Skaggs,' I said, 'if you'll sign this deed and save us all a lot of -litigation over this option you and your husband have given me, I'll -do something handsome. I will--on my word of honour--I'll give you the -exclusive boarding-house privilege at this mine.'” - -“And what did she say, Caliph?” - -“She said: 'Give me the pen, Mr. Webster, and please excuse my -handwriting; I'm that nervous in business matters.'” - -Dolores's silvery laughter rippled through the room. “But I don't see -the point,” she protested. - -“We will come to it presently. I was merely explaining one person's -point of view. You would not, of course, expect me to have the same -point of view as Mrs. Skaggs, of Arizona.” - -“Certainly not.” - -“All right! Listen to this! In 1907, at the height of the boom times in -Goldfield, Nevada, I was worth a million dollars. On the first day of -October I could have cashed in my mining stocks for a million--and I had -a lot of cash in bank, too. But I'd always worked so hard and been -poor so long that my wealth didn't mean anything to me. I wanted the -exclusive privilege of more slavery, and so I staked a copper prospect, -which later I discovered to consist of uncounted acres of country rock -and about twenty-five dollars' worth of copper stain. In order to save a -hundred dollars I did my own assessment work, drove a pick into my foot, -developed blood-poison, went to the hospital, and was nice and helpless -when the panic came along the middle of the month. The bank went bust, -and my ready cash went with it; I couldn't give my mining stocks away. -Everybody knew I was a pauper--everybody but the doctor. He persisted -in regarding me as a millionaire and sent me a bill for five thousand -dollars.” - -“How perfectly outrageous! Why, Caliph, I would have let him sue me.” - -“I would have, too--but I didn't. I induced him to settle for one -hundred thousand shares of stock in my copper prospect. The par value -was a dollar a share, and I was going to sell a block at ten cents, but -in view of his high professional standing I let him have it for a nickel -a share. I imagine he still has it. I bought back later all the other -stock I sold, because the property was worthless, and in order to be a -sport I offered him five hundred dollars for his block, but he thought I -was trying to swindle him and asked five thousand.” - -“Oh, Caliph!” - -“Wonderful game, isn't it--this game of life. So sweet when a fellow's -taking chances! Now that I am fairly prosperous again, the only thing in -life that really matters is the uncertainty as to whether, when finally -I do leave Sobrante, I shall ride to the steamship landing in a hack or -a hearse.” - -“But you could go in a hack this morning and avoid that uncertainty.” - -“The millionaire drudge I told you of could have gone to five in a -pretty villa on the Riviera, but she chose a miner's boarding-house.” - -“Then why,” she persisted, “did you leave the United States with the -firm intention of remaining in Sobrante indefinitely, change your mind -before you were here eight hours, and cable this Neddy Jerome person you -would return in sixty or ninety days--and the following morning decide -to remain, after all!” - -“My dear young lady, if I changed my clothes as often as I change my -mind, the what-you-may-call-'em chaps that manufacture Society Brand -clothes couldn't keep me dressed.” - -“But why?” - -“That,” he answered gravely, “is a secret.” - -“Women delight to pry into men's secrets.” - -“I know it. Had a friend once--married. Every night after dinner he used -to sit and stare into the fire and his wife used to ask him what he was -thinking about. He would look up at her owlishly and tell her it was -something he couldn't explain to her, because she'd never understand -it--and that was all he would tell her, although right frequently, I -dare say, he felt like telling her something she could understand! She -brooded over his secret until she couldn^t stand it any more, and one -day she packed her duds and flew home to mother. He let her stay there -three months, and finally one day he sent her a blueprint of what he'd -been thinking about.” - -“What was it?” - -“An internal-combustion engine. You see, until she left him, he'd never -been able to get set to figure out something in connection with the -inlet valves----” - -“Stop right there, Caliph. I'm rebuked. I'll let you get set to -think----” - -“I didn't mean that. You let me get set yesterday--and I figured it all -out then--and last night--and a minute ago. I don't care to do any more -thinking to-day. Please talk to me.” - -“And you refuse to tell me why you cabled your friend Jerome?” - -“You will never know. I told you it's a secret.” - -“Bet you I find out.” - -“How much? That ten thousand dollars you expect to make from the -flour-gold in your black-sand claim? And by the way, ten dollars, -please. I won it for guessing you were interested in a mining -proposition.” - -She returned to him the bill she had won from him the day before. “Ten -thousand dollars suits me. Of course I haven't got the money just now, -and this is what Billy calls a finger-bet, but if I lose, I guarantee to -pay. Are we betting even money? I think that is scarcely fair. Under the -circumstances I should be entitled to odds.” - -“Nothing doing! No odds on a bet of this nature to a seeress who has -already jarred me from soul to vermiform appendix by making good! You -know too blamed much already, and how you discovered, it is a problem -that may drive me crazy yet.” - -After breakfast they repaired to the veranda to await the result of -Webster's experiment with Don Juan Cafetéro. Sure enough, the wreck had -again returned; he was seated on the edge of the veranda waiting for -them; as they approached, he held up a grimy, quivering hand, in the -palm of which lay--a five-dollar gold-piece. - -“What?” Mr. Webster said, amazed. “Still unchanged!” - -“I thried to change it at half a dozen _cantinas_,” Don Juan wheezed, -“but divil a bit av systim did any av thim have. Wan offered this in -spiggoty money an' the other offered that, an' sure if I'd taken the -best that was offered me in exchange, ye might have t'ought I'd tuk more -nor wan dhrink.” - -“Bravo! Three long, loud, raucous cheers for Don Juan Cafetéro!” Dolores -cried. “That's just exactly what he expected you to do, Don Juan.” - -“Give a dog a bad name, an' 'twill shtick to him,” the derelict replied -resignedly. - -“Was it a terrible task to come back without a drink, Don Juan?” - -He shivered. “A shky-blue kangaroo wit' a pink tail an' green ears -chased me into this _patio_, ma'am.” - -“You're very brave, Cafferty. How does it feel to win back your -self-respect?” Webster asked him. - -“Beggin' the young leddy's pardon--it feels like hell, sor.” - -“Caliph, don't be cruel,” Dolores pleaded. “Call a waiter and give Don -Juan what you promised him.” - -So Webster went into the hotel bar and returned presently with a bottle -of brandy and a glass, which he filled and held out toward Don Juan. -“One of the paradoxes of existence, Don Juan,” he observed, “lies in the -fact that so many of the things in life that are good for us are bad -for us. This jolt will disperse the menagerie and quiet your nerves, but -nevertheless it is a nail in your coffin.” - -Don Juan proved himself a true Hibernian soldier of misfortune by -jesting under fire. “Whilst ye have the hammer in yer hand, sor, dhrive -in another,” he pleaded. Webster declined, however, and returned the -bottle to the bar, where he had it marked for Don Juan and set -aside, for it was his opinion, evolved from a vast experience with -hard-drinking miners, that the only cure for poor, diseased Don Juan lay -in a judicious application of hair from the dog that had bitten him. - -“And this is another reason why I must stay here longer than I -intended,” he said softly to Dolores, indicating Don Juan with his -thumb. “He's just about ready to be poured back into the bottle, and -I'm going to see if I cannot restore him to his original solid state. -Experiments in chemistry always did fascinate me.” - -He bade her adieu, and accompanied by his protégé, strolled uptown on -a shopping tour. Here he outfitted Don Juan neatly but not gaudily and -added to his own personal effects two high-power sporting rifles, -three large-calibre automatic pistols, and a plentiful supply of -ammunition--after which he returned to the hotel, first having conducted -Don Juan to a barber shop and given him instructions to report for -orders and his midday drink the instant he should have acquired the -outward evidences of respectability. - -At the hotel Webster found two messages awaiting him. One was from Billy -Geary, up at San Miguel de Padua, advising him that everything was in -readiness for a trip to the mine; the other was a note from Ricardo -Ruey, but signed with his alias of Andrew Bowers. Webster read: - -My Dear Friend: - -Permit me to congratulate you on your marksmanship last night and to -commend your forbearance in winging a gent where killing was not only -justified but to be encouraged. You have, so I am authoritatively -informed, completely buffaloed your two gentlemen. They cannot, in our -own classical English, “quite make you.” - -However, this letter is not all gossip. A certain higher-up has -at length been convinced that it would be extremely inadvisable to -eliminate you now. It has been pointed out to this person that you are -a prom. cit. up in your neck of the woods and dangerous to monkey -with--personally and because such monkeying may lead to unpleasant -complications with your paternal government. A far more artistic and -effective way of raising hell with you has been suggested to this -higher-up individual, and he has accepted it. Indeed, the plan pleased -him so much that he laughed quite heartily. Really, it is quite -diabolical, but remember, he who laughs last laughs best--and I'm the -villain in this sketch. - -Barring accidents, my dear Webster, you are good for at least six weeks -of existence. Beyond that I dare not guarantee you. - -Thine, - -Andrew Bowers. - -“That makes it nice,” the recipient of this comforting communication -soliloquized. He went up to his room, packed a duffle-bag with such -belongings as he would find necessary during a prolonged stay in the -mountains, and at luncheon was fortunate enough to find Dolores in the -dining room when he entered. Again she motioned him to the vacant chair -opposite to her. - -“I'm going up to San Miguel de Padua this afternoon,” he announced as he -took his seat. A look of extreme anxiety clouded her lovely face, and -he noticed it. “Oh, there's no risk,” he hastened to assure her. “That -scamp of a brother of yours, through his friends in high places, has -managed to get me a reprieve.” He handed her Ricardo's letter. - -She looked up, much relieved, from her perusal. “And how long do you -expect to be gone, Caliph?” - -“Quite a while. I'll be busy around that dratted concession for a couple -of weeks, surveying and assaying and what-all; then, while waiting for -our machinery and supplies to arrive from the United States, I shall -devote my spare time to hunting and fishing and reforming Don Juan -Cafetéro. The cool hills for mine.” - -“What a selfish, unsociable programme!” she reflected. “I wonder if it -will occur to him to come down here once in a while and take me for -a drive on the Malecon and talk to me to keep me from dying of ennui -before I meet Ricardo. I'll wait and see if he suggests it.” - -However, for reasons best known to himself and the reader, Mr. Webster -made no such interesting suggestion; so she decided that while he was -tremendously nice, he was, nevertheless, a very queer man and thoroughly -exasperating. - -Before leaving that day Webster turned over to her a steamer-trunk -filled with books, and with something of the feeling of a burglar about -to rob a bank, asked her if she would care to ride down to the station -with him. “Sort of speeding the parting guest, you know,” he explained -comfortably, for somehow, at that moment, he felt a trifle untrue to -Billy Geary. Of course, Dolores, having nothing more pleasurable or -exciting to do, would--and did. At the station they found Don Juan -waiting in charge of the baggage. - -Just before the train pulled out John Stuart Webster took Dolores's -hand. “Good-bye, Seeress,” he said very soberly. “The trail forks here -for the first time--possibly the last, although I'll try to be on hand -to make good on my promise to present you to your brother the day he -occupies the palace. However, if I shouldn't be in town that day, just -go up and introduce yourself to him. It's been wonderful to have met you -and known you, even for such a brief period. I shall never forget you -and the remarkable twenty-four hours just passed.” - -“I shall not soon forget them myself, Caliph--nor you,” she added. -“Haven't you been a busy little cup of tea, Caliph! Within twenty-four -hours after landing, you have changed your mind three times, lost the -best job in the world, had your fortune told, been marked for -slaughter, acquired a new-found friend and commenced actively and -with extraordinarily good results the work of reforming him, soused a -gentleman in the fountain, spurned another with the tip of your boot, -rode with me around the Malecon and listened to the band concert, -bundled poor Billy off to San Miguel de Padua, received a challenge to -fight a duel, accepted it, had it rejected, engaged in a street fight -and shot a man through the hand, discovered my brother presumed to be -dead, and received a reprieve from your enemies, while they perfect new -plans for destroying you. Really, you are quite a caliph.” - -“Oh, there's a dash of speed in the old horse yet, Miss Ruey,” he -assured her laughingly. “Now listen: don't tell anybody about your -brother, and don't tell Billy about my adventures since he left for San -Miguel de Padua.” - -“But I'm not liable to see Billy----” - -“Yes, you are--extremely liable. I'm going to send him back to you as -soon as I can spare him, because I know you'll be lonesome and bored to -death in this lonesome town, and Bill is bully good company. And I don't -want you to tell him about the mess I'm in, because it would only worry -him; he can't aid me, and the knowledge that I was in any danger, real -or fancied, would be sufficient to cause him to rebel against my plans -for his honeym--for his vacation. He'd insist on sticking around to -protect me.” He looked down at her little hand where it rested in -his, so big and brown and hard; with his free hand be patted her hand -paternally. “Good-bye, Seeress,” he said again; and turning to the -steps, he leaped aboard just as the train started to move out of the -station. - -“Go--good-bye--Caliph,” she called mournfully. Then to herself: “Bless -his heart, he did remember I'd be terribly lonely, after all. He isn't a -bit queer, but oh, dear, he is _so_ exasperating. I could bump his kind -old head against a wall!” She turned her back on the train, fearful that -from where he clung on the steps he could, even at that distance, see -the sudden rush of tears that blinded her. However, Don Juan Cafe-téro, -with his rubicund nose to the window of the last coach, did see -them--saw her grope toward the carriage waiting to take her back to the -hotel. - -“Why, shure, the poor darlint's cryin',” he reflected. “Be the Great Gun -an Athlone! Shure I t'ought all along 'twas Billy Geary she had her eye -on--God love him! An' be the same token, didn't she tell me I was to -shtay sober an' take care av Masther Webster? Hah-hah-a-a-a! Well! I'll -say nothin' an' I'll be neuthral, but--but--but----” - -From which it may be inferred that romance was not yet burned out of Don -Juan's Gaelic soul. He would be “neuthral,” but--but--but--he reserved -the right to butt in! - - - - -CHAPTER XX - -|THROUGHOUT the slow, tortuous journey, while the train crept up -and ever upward into the hills, Don Juan entertained his patron with -alternate snatches of the song closest to his heart (or rather his -stomach)--“The Cruiskeen Lawn,” which, liberally translated for the -benefit of those not familiar with the Gaelic, means “the morning's -morning.” Between verses the outcast suggested the advisability of a -drink to ward off approaching faintness or discoursed most learnedly on -the roadbed, which was a tribute to his efficiency as a section-boss in -his other incarnation. - -Arrived at San Miguel de Padua about midnight, Webster found the climate -temperate, in fact, decidedly cool. Billy was waiting for them and was -properly amazed, but not scandalized when Don Juan Cafetéro, abusing -the station hands in a horrible hodgepodge of English and Spanish, -superintended the landing of the baggage on the platform. - -“I had to bring him with me,” Webster explained. “I'm going to wean him, -and after that baby quits crying for his bottle, believe me, Bill, we'll -have the prince of a foreman for our Mine. Quite a character, is Don -Juan, when you dig down into him.” - -“Dig far enough into that ruin and you'll find firecrackers,” Billy -admitted. “However, John, I'm afraid he won't explode. The powder's -damp. How did you leave Dolores?” - -“Fit as a fiddle, Bill.” - -“How does she stack up on better acquaintance, Johnny?” - -“She's a skookum lass. She sent her love and I promised to send you back -to her P. D. Q. So don't bother me with talk about her. If you think -you're going to sit by my bed half the night and talk about your heart's -desire, you've another guess coming. You'll see her again in a week or -ten days, I hope.” - -“No? Is that so, Johnny? Bully for you, you old wampus cat. Tell Don -Juan to steer you over to the Globo de Oro. He knows the place. I've got -to go and hire a mule or some other quadruped for, Don Juan if we're to -avoid a late start in the morning. Good-night, old fellow.” - -They were up at daybreak, and with three heavily laden pack-mules in -charge of two semi-naked _mozos_, while the cook jogged comfortably -along on his big splay feet in the rear, they set out for Billy's -concession. From San Miguel de Padua they turned west on a splendid -highway paved with limestone blocks and vending up into the hills on an -easy gradient. - -“Government built, this, I dare say,” Webster suggested as they trotted -along side by side. - -Billy nodded. “It is the only evidence I have observed of an inclination -on the part of President Sarros to give the lowly peon a run for his -taxes. This highway stretches from San Miguel de Padua to the western -national boundary; I imagine Sarros built it with some idea of enabling -him to get there first with the most guns in the event of war with his -neighbours on the Pacific side. Quite a rare plucked 'un, is Sarros--to -quote Mother Jenks.” - -“Are you acquainted with him, Bill? What kind of a bird is he?” - -“Oh, yes, indeed, I know him. We're great _amigos_. I'm the man that -taught him the folly of betting too heavily on two pair after the draw. -He has Indian blood in him--quite a little of it, in fact; but he is -well educated. Speaks French, Spanish, and English very fluently. He's -a short man and wears high-heeled boots to make himself look taller than -he really is. He is crafty, suspicious, sensitive, and possessed of a -sense of humour--only his humour is tinged with cruelty. He'd steal a -cross off a grave and kill his best friend as quickly, should political -expediency demand it, as you or I would kill a rattlesnake. He has a -rattling good intelligence-department, pays liberally for information, -and keeps down rebellion by the simple process of locating the -ringleaders and shooting them. He bumped off old General Morelos some -six weeks ago--did it on mere suspicion, too.” - -“You must have come to Sobrante mighty well recommended to get into the -good graces of the scoundrel.” - -“Not at all! Sarros is a peculiar man. It pleases him to pose as a -democrat and mingle freely with the proletariat--accompanied, however, -by a strong bodyguard. Frequently he visits the cafés in Buenaventura -and fraternizes with all and sundry. I met him first in a joint known -as The Frenchman's, where he used to come to watch the drawing for the -lottery. I was there matching another American for half-dollars, and -Sarros edged up, all interest, and homed in on the game. Before the -session was over we'd swapped cards, and the instant he learned I was a -mining man and down here to give Sobrante the onceover, he invited me -up to the palace for dinner. Our acquaintance quickly ripened into -friendship--on his part. It seems he likes to have enterprising -Americans come to Sobrante and exploit the country, because experience -has demonstrated that if the visitors develop a good thing, there is -always a rake-off in it for Sarros.” - -Webster nodded. “Same old game anywhere you go south of the Rio Grande,” - he replied. - -“I had a couple of thousand dollars I'd saved on a job I had down in -Rhodesia, so I was enabled to put up a big front. I received government -permission to prospect government lands, and--” - -“Do you pay a royalty to the government, Bill?” - -“Five per cent.” - -“How about the president's rake-off?” - -“Oh, that's unofficial, of course, but it's understood we pay him 5 per -cent, of our output.” - -“Anybody else to take care of?” - -“No, that cleans up the gang. Loaiza, the Minister of the Interior, -wanted in, but I kicked like a bay steer and Sarros shooed him off.” - -“A fine lot of bandits to do business with!” Webster declared -disgustedly. “Still, it's their way of doing business, and much as we -dislike that kind of business, we'll have to do it that way or not at -all. The government ought to get 10 per cent, of our gross output, -and Sarros ought to be shot. However, I dare say we can stand for the -blackmail if, as you say, you have twelve-dollar ore.” - -“Wait and assay it yourself,” Billy assured him. For thirty miles they -followed the government highway, and then debouched to the southwest -along a neglected road just wide enough to accommodate the clumsy -oxcarts of the peons. The country was sparsely settled and evidently -given over to stockraising. By degrees the road lost itself in the tall, -dry grass, and became a faint trail which led into a forest of fir -and other woods, with a good deal of mahogany and with very little -underbrush. Billy rode in front, following through the timber a trail -of his own blazing; and on the afternoon of the third day they -dropped swiftly into a bare brown valley lying between timbered hills, -displaying here and there the red stain of oxide of iron, from which -evidence Webster knew he was in a mineral country. Billy pointed to a -yellow mound at the base of one of the toes of the range flanking the -valley on the south. - -“There's the claim,” he announced. “You can see the dump from here.” - -A ribbon of green ran down a canon from the south and out into the -brown, parched valley, where it suddenly disappeared. - -“Sink,” Billy elucidated, following the direction of his friend's -gaze and divining his thoughts. “That creek lies entirely on our -concession--about thirty miner's inches of water, I should judge. It -disappears in the sands out there at the end of the green streak, but -the irrigation along its banks has been sufficient to insure plenty of -good feed for our stock.” - -Darkness had descended on the valley by the time they had pitched camp -and eaten supper. They were up at dawn the following morning, however, -and immediately after breakfast Jack Webster went to his duffle-bag and -brought forth a dozen little canvas sacks and a prospector's hammer. -“Now then, William, my son,” he announced, “light the lantern and we'll -see if you've forgotten all I taught you about mining.” - -They clambered up the dump to a point where two v light steel rails -projected over the edge. On top of the dump, lying beside the rails, -were two small, rusty, steel ore cars; the rails led from the edge -of the dump to the mouth of a tunnel in the hillside and disappeared -therein. - -Webster stood a moment, looking round him. “How did you happen to locate -this ledge?” he demanded. “Was it grass-root stuff, with an out-cropping -here at the foot of the hill? No, of course it wasn't. You haven't -enough ore on the dump. What the devil were you driving at?” - -“Only a small portion of that dump is mine, Jack, and I didn't locate -the ground originally. I came into this valley from the south, and as I -worked up the range, I found a bald spot close to the top of the hill, -and a gallows-frame over an abandoned shaft. Naturally, I went down -the shaft to see why it had been abandoned. To my surprise, I found a -twelve-foot vein of free-milling ore, on a contact between andesite and -Silurian limestone. The ledge stood straight up and down, which seemed -to argue great depth.” - -“Somebody had found an outcropping on top of that hill,” Webster -declared with conviction, “and sunk a shaft on the vein to open it up -and determine its width and direction. How deep was this old shaft? -Thirty or forty feet?” - -“Thirty-two feet. I figured it out just that way, too. After determining -approximately which way the ledge was pitching, I made up my mind I'd -have a tunnel driven to cut the ledge at right angles at the foot of the -hill, since no practical man would mine from the top of a hill and hoist -his ore through a shaft, when he could mine from the bottom and haul -his ore out on cars through a tunnel. So I came prowling down into the -valley and found this tunnel. The work had been abandoned for a couple -of years, and after examining the tunnel I thought I knew why. They had -failed to cut the ledge as they expected.” - -“Hum-m! And what did you do, Bill?” - -“I got my transit and ran a line from the shaft on the hill, following -the direction in which the ledge was running, and marked out the exact -point toward the base of the hill where I would start my tunnel to cut -the ledge. To my surprise, I discovered my predecessor had selected that -identical spot. So I verified my calculations and then sat down to think -it over.” - -“You should have suspected a fault immediately.” Webster chided the -younger man. “This is a volcanic country-----” - -“Well,” Billy interrupted, “I suspected a fault, but not immediately. -Remember I'm fifteen years your junior, professor. I remembered that -frequent and violent earthquakes occur in this country, and it seemed -to me a reasonable hypothesis to blame some ancient and particularly -violent seismic disturbance, which had faulted the vein and set it over -a considerable distance. According to my calculation, that other man -should have cut the vein at eighty-three feet--yet he had gone on one -hundred and two before quitting. So I got half a dozen peons and drove -ahead nineteen feet on the other fellow's tunnel; and by Heck, Johnny, I -cut the vein!” - -“Bully boy! And then?” - -“I drifted ten feet on the vein, and the ore suddenly gave out. It -stopped just like that, proving I'd come to the upper end of the vein -where it had faulted; so I just worked up and around, stoping and -sinking a winze here and there, until just about the time my cash -reserve was getting pretty low I picked up the true vein and opened it -up for the full width. Come in, and I'll show you.” - -They entered the tunnel, to the signal dismay of dozens of large bats. -When they reached the vein, Webster broke off samples of the ore every -three or four feet, crawled after Billy up through the stope and back -to the true vein, from the face of which he also took numerous samples; -then he crawled out into the sunshine again, hot, dirty, and perspiring. - -“Billy, you'll be a real miner yet; see if you won't,” was all the -praise he tendered his youthful partner, standing beside him in -anticipation of a compliment, as Webster got out his portable assay -outfit. - -For three days Webster worked, determining the values of each sample, -only to find that his assays confirmed Billy's. Then he visited the old -shaft on top of the hill, assayed samples procured there, roamed the -range in the immediate vicinity, marking with expert eye the timber he -would find so useful and close at hand when stulls and lagging for the -tunnel should be needed; then he selected a site where the waters of -the stream could be impounded in a little draw far up the hillside, and -returned to camp to render his final report. - -“You were right, son,” he announced. “This mine is a humdinger and no -mistake; if you and I live ten years we'll be worth ten millions between -us--maybe more.” - -Billy's jaundiced eyes glowed hungrily. “We'll put in a hundred -stamps----” - -“Well, we'll try ten for a starter,” Webster interrupted dryly, “and add -more as the mine pays its way. Our first consideration is the building -of about ten miles of road through that timber, and repairs to that old -dirt road connecting with the Grand Highway. I noticed there isn't much -hard rock work to do, however, and we'll shoot the trees out of our way -with dynamite. After we have a passable trail broken into this valley it -won't take long to haul in our freight from the railroad at San Miguel -de Padua. We'll cut all our frame- and foundation-timbers for the -stamp-mill right here on the ground, and our other buildings will all -be adobe. We'll have to put in a concrete dam up there on the hill and -build a flume to the stamps. Oh, yes, my son, we'll run the stamps by -water power. We'll have a five-hundred-foot drop at an ample angle, with -the last hundred feet almost perpendicular; believe me, when the water -comes through the penstock, anything in front will have to get out of -the way. The same power will operate a little electric-light plant to -light the grounds and buildings and workings, run the drills, and so -on. Yes, it's the sweetest mining proposition on earth--only, like all -high-class goods, it has one flaw when you examine it closely.” - -“You're crazy,” Billy challenged. “Name the flaw!” - -“Sarros!” Webster replied smilingly. “That scoundrel makes a gamble -out of an otherwise sure thing. However,” he added, recalling the note -received from Ricardo Ruey just before his departure from Buenaventura -and reflecting that to be forewarned is to be forearmed, “we'll accept -the gamble. That rascal can't live forever, and he may be eliminated -before he causes us any trouble.” - -“What will it cost us to get this mine on a paying basis, Johnny*” - -“Well, back home, I'd figure on spending at least hundred thousand -dollars; but I dare say, taking consideration the low cost of labour in -Sobrante and the raw, natural resources of power and timber right on -the ground, we ought to put this deal over for fifty thousand at the -outside. Praise be, I have cash enough to do the trick without calling -in any help, and such being the case, we'll not waste any time but hop -to the job in a hurry and make the fur fly.” - -“All right, Jack. What's the programme?” - -“Well, first off, son, I'm not going to stay in this country and lose -myself managing this mine. That's your job, because you're young and -unimportant in your profession and have the ability to get away with the -job. You can afford to spend the next fifteen years here, but I cannot. -I can only afford to come down here every couple of years and relieve -you for a vacation.” - -“That's the way I figured it, Jack.” - -“All right then, Bill, let us start in by giving you your first -vacation. If you're going to dig in here and make the fur fly, you've -got to be in tip-top physical condition--and you are thin and gaunted -and full of chills and fever. Just before I left Buenaventura I cashed -a draft for five thousand dollars on my letter of credit at the Banco -Nacional, and placed it to the credit of your account there. - -“To-morrow morning you will take your horse, one pack-mule, and one -_mozo_ and ride for San Miguel de Padua, where you will take the train -for Buenaventura. In Buenaventura you may do what you blame please, but -if I were you, boy, I'd try to get married and go back to the U. S. -A. for my honeymoon. And when I finally hit a town that contained some -regular doctors I'd let them paw me over and rehabbit me and overhaul -my bearings and put me in such nice running order I'd be firing on all -twelve cylinders at once. - -“And when I was feeling tip-top once more I'd wire old John Stuart -Webster and tell him so, after which I'd stand by for a cable from the -said sourdough inviting me to return and take up my labours.” Billy's -wan yellow face lighted up like a sunrise on the desert. “I guess that -plan's kind of poor,” he announced feelingly. “You're right, Jack. I'm -in rotten condition and I ought to be right before I start. Still, if -I should arrange to get married before I leave, I'd like mighty well to -have a good man and true see me safely over the hurdles.” - -“That's nice, son, but I haven't time to be your best man. Arranging the -honeymoon lets me out, Bill. I'm in a hurry to finish here and get -back, so the sooner we both start our prospective jobs the sooner we'll -finish. Have a quiet little marriage, Bill, without any fuss or feathers -or voices breathing o'er Eden. What are the odds, provided you -get hitched properly? Besides, I'm in mortal dread of that town of -Buenaventura, The sewer system is bad; it's rotten with fever; and you'd -better get that girl out of it P. D. Q., and the quicker the better. -Myself, I prefer to stay up here in these mountains in a temperate -climate where there are no mosquitoes.” - -Billy saw that Webster was serious and would resent any interference in -his plans. “All right, Jack,” he assented. “You're the boss.” - -“Fine. Now, Bill, you listen to father and be guided accordingly. -When you get to Buenaventura, wire the Bingham Engineering Company, of -Denver, using my name, and tell them to add to my order given them last -month and held for shipping directions, twelve dozen picks, twelve dozen -shovels, twelve dozen mattocks, say, six dozen axes, brush knives, a big -road plow, and whatever other things you happen to think of and which -would come in handy when building our road. Also, when you get to -New Orleans, buy a ton of dynamite and an adequate supply of fuse and -fulminating caps, pay for it and ship it to me at Buenaventura. Further, -look around in New Orleans and buy a stanch three ton motor truck. We'll -need it for getting in supplies from San Miguel de Padua. Pay for the -truck also, and if you go broke and cannot reach me by cable, wire -Neddy Jerome at the Engineers' Club in Denver and kick his eye out in my -honoured name. - -“I guess that's about all of your job, Bill. As for me, I'll camp right -here. I'll have a deal of surveying to do and I plan to sweat the booze -out of that Cafferty person. I'll make Don Juan my chain man and run the -tail off him. Then I'll be busy with preliminary plans, arranging for -labour and so on, and when I'm idle I'll go hunting.” - -In conformity with this plan, therefore, Billy said good-bye to his -friend and packed out for San Miguel de Padua bright and early next -morning. During the following ten days Webster managed to keep himself -fairly busy around the camp at the mine; then for a week he hunted and -fished, and finally, when that began to pall on him, his agile mind -returned to business and the consideration of the possibility of a flaw -in Billy's title to the claim; whereupon he suddenly decided to return -to Buenaventura and investigate that title fully before proceeding to -throw dollars right and left. While socially he was wildly prodigal with -his dollars, in business matters no Scotchman was more canny or more -careful of his baubees. - -At the head of his little cavalcade, therefore, he rode out one morning -for the railroad, whereat Providence, in its inscrutable wisdom, -ordained that en route he should fall in with no less a personage than -Don Ricardo Luiz Ruey, _ne_ Andrew Bowers. Ricardo was mounted, armed, -and alone, and at sight of Webster he shouted with delight and spurred -toward him. - -“What the devil! You, Rick, the government cut-up. What are you doing in -these parts?” Webster rode up and shook hands. - -“Oh, I'm Robin Hooding it around this part of the country. It is so -secluded, you know, and Sarros hasn't any friends or any telegraph lines -or any garrisons up this way. I heard in San Miguel de Padua that you -were camped yonder, and I was on my way over to confer with you on -matters of state.” - -“You'll have to confer as we ride along. How does your business -progress, Rick?” - -“Beyond my wildest expectations. By the way, I need your help, friend -Webster.” - -“I'll do anything within reason, Rick.” - -“I figured you would, so I have already imposed on your good nature to a -slight extent. Met your friend Geary at El Buen Amigo a couple of weeks -ago, just before he sailed for the United States. He was telling me you -had to have a lot of tools for road building, so I cabled in a secret -cipher to the So-brantean revolutionary junta in New Orleans to ship -these tools to you immediately. They arrived on the last trip of the -_Atlanta_ and now repose in Leber's warehouse waiting for you to call -and remove them.” - -“You scoundrel! What have you sent me?” - -“A couple of hundred rifles and three machine-guns, branded axes, picks, -shovels, plows, and so on. I also ran in three cases of ammunition, -labelled grindstones, two more cases disguised as bolts, and quite -several thousand labelled nails in kegs. I should feel rather sorry for -you if my friend Sarros should get suspicious and investigate, but -I haven't any fear that he will. You see, he knows you're here on -legitimate business. He has investigated and learned that you are a bona -fide mining engineer of considerable reputation--and then, you know, -your friend Geary dickered with him for the concession. The mining -property you are about to develop belongs to the people, not to Sarros; -yet he has bartered it away and will divert the royalty to his own -pocket instead of the public treasury.” - -“Hum-m-m! What do you want me to do with all those munitions consigned -to me?” - -“Arrange with Leber to keep them there until you get ready to build -your road into the mine. I want them there when my American mercenaries -arrive in Buenaventura. By the way, you are going to import these -mercenaries for me. They are American miners and road-builders in the -employ of the Honda Mining & Development Company, which is to be the -name of your enterprise. I hope you'll like the name, Webster. I picked -it out myself.” - -“You cool scoundrel! You're making a cat's paw out of me.” - -“That is because you happen to be so handy for my purpose. You see -my plan, do you not? I'm going to attack Buenaventura from within and -without. I'm going to come down on Sarros like a wolf on the fold, and -the job is scheduled for next Saturday night a week.” - -“Look here, Rick, my boy, I have no desire to mix in the politics of -this country.” - -“You have some desire, however, to mix in its wealth,” Ricardo reminded -him. - -“Well?” - -“I'm the only man that can help you. By the way, do not order your -machinery shipped until after I am seated firmly on the throne of my -fathers.” - -“Why?” - -“It's been framed with Sarros to let you spend your money on that -concession and get the mine in running order; then a fake suit, alleging -an error in the government survey, will be filed. It will be claimed -that the concession given your friend Geary is, by virtue of erroneous -government surveys, the property of a citizen of Sobrante. The courts -here do as Sarros tells them. You are to be kicked out, busted, and -despairing, and your nicely equipped little mine will be taken over as -a government monopoly and run for the benefit of the government, to wit, -Sarros and his satellites. We had to cook up a dirty deal like that to -save your life. Of course, now that I have warned you in time, you -are safe. We schemed a proposition, however, that worked both ways. It -enabled us to save you and to save us, by permitting the shipment, free -of suspicion, of arms for the rebels that are to attack the city from -within. Naturally I had to cache their arms within the city--and -that was a hard problem until you happened along. Thank you, fairy -godfather.” - -“My thanks are due you, Ricardo. I'm for you, first, last, and all the -time, and against this Sarros outfit. By the way, how do you purpose -moving your machine-guns?” - -“We'll have to carry them, I guess.” - -“Well, I'll have a small auto-truck delivered in Buenaventura by that -time. You might arrange to armour it with sheet steel; and with a couple -of machine-guns mounted in it, and a crew of resolute Americans behind -the machine-guns, you could caper from one end of the city to the other -and clear a path for your infantry.” - -“Thank you, my friend. I'll borrow the motor truck and arrange to armour -it. That's a bully idea. Are you bound for Buenaventura now?” Webster -nodded. “Then,” Ricardo suggested, “I'll meet you in my room at El Buen -Amigo next Wednesday night at eleven and explain the details of my plans -to you if you care to hear them. I think they're air-tight myself, but -somehow I think I'd feel more certain of them if you approve them.” - -“I'll be there, Rick, and the day you run that outlaw Sarros off the -grass you'll know why I am for you.” - -“Good-bye, old man. You will never know how grateful you have made me.” - -Ruey shook hands with Webster and rode off through the timber, leaving -John Stuart Webster to pursue the even tenor of his way, until at length -he arrived once more in Buenaventura and sought accommodations at the -Hotel Mateo. And there, as he entered the lobby and gazed through a -glass door across the _patio_ and into the veranda, he saw that which -disturbed him greatly. In a big wicker rocker Dolores Ruey sat, rocking -gently and busily stitching on a piece of fancy work! - -Billy Geary gone back to the United States, and Dolores was still in -Buenaventura! Amazing! Why, what the devil did Billy mean by letting her -have her own way like that? Of course they hadn't been married, or she -would not now be out there on the veranda, and of course they hadn't -quarrelled, because that was an impossibility, and of course Billy had -departed alone for the U. S. A., else he would have returned to their -camp in the hills back of San Miguel de Padua. - -“Well, I know what I'm going to do,” Webster decided. “I'm not going to -be led into temptation while Billy's not on the job--so I'll not put up -at the Hotel Mateo after all. I'll just sneak around to El Buen Amigo -and fix it with that old Mother Jenks not to tip off my presence in town -to Dolores Ruey until I can get the lay of the land and see what the -devil has happened to all my well-laid plans.” - -He retreated out the front door and called a carriage, into which he was -about to step, bag and baggage, when Don Juan Cafetéro came rushing up -in great excitement. “Sure, where are ye goin' now, sor. Is there no -room for ye in the Hotel Mateo?” - -“Their beds have jiggers in them, and I just remembered that,” Webster -fibbed. “Hop in, John, and we'll drive around to Mr. Geary's lodgings in -El Buen Amigo.” - -“But I come t'rough the _patio_ just now,” Don Juan explained, “an' who -should I meet but the young leddy.” - -“You infernal scoundrel! Did you tell her I was in town?” - -“Sure I did, sor. An' why not?” - -“None of your infernal business. You've spoiled everything. You're a -muddle-headed monkey and I've a great notion to let you get drunk again. -Take the baggage back into the hotel.” - -Don Juan Cafetéro, greatly humbled and rebuffed, stepped aside and -watched Webster stride back into the hotel. “God love ye, sor,” he -mumbled, “know-in' what I know, is it likely I'd let ye make a monkey -out av her or yerself? Ye made yer plans wit' Misther Geary wit'out -consultin' her. Now go, ye grrand big divil, an' find out why she kicked -yer schame to smithereens.” And with a solemn and knowing wink at the -duffle-bag, Don Juan picked that article up and followed after his -master. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI - -|JOHN STUART WEBSTER'S agile brain was the repository of many -conflicting emotions as he bathed, shaved, and changed from his soiled -khaki field clothes to a suit of ducks before presenting himself before -Dolores. - -Had Billy's courage forsaken him at the last minute, with the result -that he had gone back to the United States without having settled the -question of Dolores's future? Had he proposed and been rejected, or had -he proposed, been accepted, and had his plans for an immediate marriage -vetoed by Dolores? - -In either event, why had Billy failed to leave a note for him at the -Hotel Mateo, or mailed him a letter to the Globo de Oro at San Miguel de -Padua, advising him of the change in the plan of action outlined for him -by Webster? - -If Dolores had accepted him, then Billy Geary was just the sort of -impulsive youth who could not rest until he had advised Webster of his -luck; on the other hand, Billy was susceptible, in matters of love, -to the deep melancholia which is as distinct a characteristic of the -Hibernian nature as wit and light-heartedness, and in the event of -disappointment he would not be apt to rush to his partner with the news; -a feeling of chagrin would prompt him to keep his own counsel, to go -away and stay away until he had Smothered the ache and could return and -meet Dolores without restraint and embarrassment. - -In the simplicity of his single-hearted devotion Webster was puzzled to -understand how any woman in her right mind could fail to fall in love -with Billy Geary. To begin, he was a fine-looking lad and would look -finer when the chills and fever had been eradicated; he was far from -being a runt, mentally or physically; he was gentle, well-mannered, -kind, with the gift of turning a pretty speech to a woman and meaning it -with all his heart and soul. A man he was, from heels to hair, and a man -with prospects far above the average. To Webster's way of thinking, the -girl who married Billy might well count herself fortunate. - -Dolores greeted him with unaffected pleasure. “Well, Caliph!” she said. -Just that. It made Webster sensible of a feeling of having returned to -her after an absence of several years. “I'm so glad to see you, Miss -Ruey,” he replied, and added boldly, “particularly since I didn't expect -to.” - -She knew what her reply would lead to; nevertheless, with that -dissimulation which can only be practised in perfection by a clever and -beautiful woman, she answered with equal boldness: “Indeed! Pray why?” - -“Well, for a pretty good reason, I think. A few weeks ago, after -examining Bill's concession very thoroughly, I told him he was -a potential millionaire. Now, while I disclaim any appearance of -braggadocio, when John Stuart Webster, E.M., makes any mine owner a -report like that, he is apt to be taken very seriously. And having made -Bill a potential millionaire and arranged to give him three or four -months' vacation back home, I had a notion he'd present to you a very -valid reason why you should accompany him.” - -“You are very frank, Caliph.” - -“That's because I'm curious. You do not mind being equally frank with -an old cuss like me, do you, and telling me just why Bill's plans -miscarried? Because he had a certain dream, and told me about it, and I -did my little best to make it come true. You see, Miss Ruey, I'm a lot -older than Bill, and I've known him since he was eighteen years old; I -feel a responsibility toward him that is almost paternal.” - -“I think I understand, Caliph. It would be very difficult, I think, for -anybody to meet Billy without being attracted toward him. He's one of -the dearest, most lovable boys in the world--and he did do me the signal -honour of asking me to marry him. So there!” - -“Well, and why didn't you?” - -She smiled at his blunt insistence on forcing the issue. “For a number -of excellent reasons, Caliph. In the first place, he wanted me to marry -him immediately--and I wasn't ready to leave Sobrante, while Billy was. -Indeed, it was highly necessary that he should leave immediately, for -the sake of his health, and I had Billy's interest at heart sufficiently -to insist upon it. You seem to forget that when a girl marries she must -make some preparation for the event, and if she has any close relatives, -such as a brother, for instance, she likes to have that relative present -at the ceremony. You will recall, Caliph, that I have a brother and that -you have promised to introduce me to him very shortly. Much as you -love Billy, would you insist upon depriving me of the joy of meeting -my brother on the day of his triumph--on the day of the triumph of our -family--just to please Billy by marrying him on ten minutes' notice, -and leaving on a honeymoon next day? That is what you would refer to as -crowding my hand and joggling my elbow.” - -“By Judas, I never thought of that, Miss Ruey,” the repentant Webster -answered. “In fact, I wasn't thinking of anybody's interest in this -matter but Bill's.” - -“Not even of mine, Caliph?” reproachfully. - -“That goes without saying. Could I have done anything nicer for you than -fix it for Bill so he would be in position to marry you? Here you are, -practically alone in the world--at least you were when Bill met you -and fell in love with you--and I know that boy so well I was convinced, -after meeting you, that his future happiness and yours would best be -conserved if you married him. I hope you do not think I was presumptuous -in thinking this, or that I am presumptuous now in speaking my mind so -frankly. I realize this is a most unusual conversation----” - -“Quite to be expected of an unusual man, Caliph. And I do not think you -were one bit presumptuous. It was wonderfully dear of you, and I am -profoundly grateful that Billy and I have such a true, unselfish friend, -whose first thought is for our happiness. I knew I was going to like you -before Billy introduced us--and I think more of you than ever, now that -I know you're a dear, blundering old matchmaker. Of course you realize -how badly I felt to think I couldn't accede to Billy's plan. Billy's -such a dear, it quite broke my heart to disappoint him, but a little -temporary unhappiness will not ruin Billy, will it? It makes me feel -blue to talk about it, Caliph.” - -“Not at all, not at all, Miss Ruey. Bill is one of the impulsive, -whirlwind kind, up in the clouds today and down in the slough of despond -to-morrow. He'll survive the shock. Of course, it would have been pretty -nice if your affairs had permitted you to accompany Bill; I never had -a honeymoon myself, but it must be a great institution, and I was -all wrapped up in the notion of seeing Bill have what I'd never had -myself--a honeymoon and a wife and kids and money enough to enjoy -'em all the way that God intended a real man and woman to enjoy them. -However, I'm glad to know everything will come out all right. Seeing you -here gave me a momentary chill; thought a cog had slipped somewhere, so -I helped myself to Cupid's license and asked. A man cannot learn very -much from a woman unless he asks questions, can he? I mean on the -subject of love.” - -She smiled a little, wistful, knowing smile. “No, Caliph,” she answered -seriously, “somehow the Master of Things ordained that on the subject of -love man must do all the talking.” - -“Yes, but on the other hand, woman has the last word--as usual. However, -the only thing in your case and Billy's that worries me is the thought -that since Bill left his magnet behind he will be drawn back here before -he is in the kind of shape, physically, that I want him to be in before -he relieves me on the job so I can go away.” - -“Do not worry on that point, Caliph. I am your ally there; between us -both I think we can manage him.” - -“Fine business! Miss Ruey, if that boy Bill ever gets a notion in his -head that you haven't forgotten more than he'll ever know, I'll break -his neck. And with those few kind words we'll dismiss William until you -care to talk about him again, although if you're as deep in love as Bill -you'll not stay off the subject very long.” - -“How is Don Juan Cafetéro, Caliph?” - -“Coming out in the wash and without his colours running. I've sweated -the booze out of him, hiking him over the hills, and bullied him into -eating solids, and a few days ago I shut off the firewater forever, -I hope. However, I'll have to watch him very closely for a long -time yet--particularly in town. Out at the mine he'll be away from -temptation. Hard work is the best cure for Don Juan. There's a deal of -truth in the old saying that Satan will find mischief for idle hands to -do. I imagine you've been rather idle lately. Hope you haven't been into -mischief.” - -“I haven't been idle. I've made several dresses for Mother Jenks and -done a lot of fancy work and begun the study of my mother tongue. If my -brother should become president of this country, it would ill become his -sister not be able to speak Spanish. By the way, Billy told me you were -going to remain up in the hills quite a while yet. What brought you back -to town so soon?” - -“Expected I'd have some freight arriving shortly: besides, I wanted to -make certain the title to Bill's property didn't have any flaws in it.” - -“How long will you remain in Buenaventura?” Considering the fact that he -was no longer subject to temptation, since the object of his temptation -was now definitely promised to his friend Billy, Webster suddenly -decided to remain until the political atmosphere should be cleared, -although prior to his conversation with Dolores he had cherished a -definite plan to go back to the hills within forty-eight hours. He -could not suppress an ironic grin, despite the pain and misery of his -predicament, as he reflected how often, of late, he had made up his mind -to a definite course of action, only to change it promptly at some new -whim of fate. - -“I'm going back,” he replied soberly, “after I have kept my promise and -introduced you to your brother in the government palace. If I cannot -introduce him to you there, the title to our mining concession will be -clouded, in which event it will not be necessary for Billy or myself to -fuss with it further.” - -He related to her the information gleaned from her brother two days -previously. - -“It's no use for an individual to fight a government despot in courts -controlled by the latter,” he concluded. “Your brother must win and -depose the Sarros; then with the title to the property certified by the -government as without a flaw, I may dare to spend fifty thousand dollars -developing it.” - -“And if my brother doesn't win?” - -“I may never have an opportunity to present you to him. We mustn't be -squeamish about this matter, Miss Ruey. If Ricardo doesn't turn the -trick, he may go the way of his father, unless he can manage to get out -of the country.” - -She was silent a minute, digesting this grim alternative. “And you?” she -queried presently. “What will happen to you? As I understand it, you are -existing now under a temporary license.” - -“I shall endeavour to leave also--with dignity. I can always land a -pretty good job back home, and wherever I'm superintendent the next best -job belongs to Billy. The Lord is our shepherd; we shall not want.” - -“As I understand it, then, Caliph, Ricardo hopes to win his revolution -when he strikes the first blow.” - -“I think so. I dare say Ricardo hopes to take Sarros by surprise, bottle -the city garrison up in the _cuartel_ and the government palace and -there besiege them. Having secured nominal control of a seaport, he -can import arms and ammunition; also he can recruit openly, and at -his leisure hunt down the outlying garrisons. The Sarros crowd doesn't -suspect his presence in Sobrante, and by a quick, savage stroke he -should be able to jerk this one-horse government up by the heels in jig -time--particularly since the citizenry feel no loyalty toward the -Sarros régime and are only kept in subjection through fear and lack of -a leader. I'm going to play Ricardo to win, if he isn't killed in the -opening row, for I'm certain he'll lead his men.” - -“I dare say he is greatly like his father--not afraid to die for his -country,” she replied presently. “I am glad to be here when he takes -that risk.” - -“Oh, but you mustn't be here,” Webster protested. - -“Why?” - -“Because there'll be street fighting--probably of a desperate character, -and I understand your countrymen go rather war-mad and do things not -sanctioned by the Hague tribunal. If there's a steamer in port at the -time I'll put you aboard her until the issue is decided. She'll have -to remain in port because while the fighting goes on she cannot load or -discharge.” - -“I could go to the American consulate,” she suggested. - -“You could--but you'll not. That consul would give you up to the first -mob that called for you--and I'm not so certain that even the sister of -an archtraitor (for patriots and revolutionists are always traitors when -they lose) would be safe from the Sarros fury. However, I'm going to see -Ricardo tomorrow night and learn the details of his plan of campaign; -after that I'll be able to act intelligently.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXII - -|RICARDO RUBY, with Doctor Pacheco and Colonel Caraveo, were engaged -in consultation when Jack Webster, having left the Hotel Mateo via his -bedroom window in order to avoid possible espionage and made his way -to El Buen Amigo on foot, was announced by Mother Jenks. The three -conspirators greeted him joyously, as indeed they should, for his loyal -friendship had thus far been one of their principal bulwarks. - -“Well,” Webster inquired, after greeting them and carefully closing the -door behind him, “here I am in Beunaventura, marking time and, like Mr. -Micawber, waiting for something to turn up.” - -“You will not be required to wait long,” Colonel Caraveo assured him. -“Thanks to your kindly offices, the trap is already baited.” - -“Our friend Ruey has, since our first meeting, insisted on dispensing -with my consent when using me to promote his enterprises, Colonel. -Strange to say, I have been unable to berate him for his impudence. -I was down at Leber's warehouse this afternoon. You have enough -road-making tools consigned to me there to build a pretty fair highway -to the gates of the government palace, I should say. I hope you have all -pondered the result to me, an innocent bystander, if your enemies should -take a notion to open one of those cases of shovels.” - -Colonel Caraveo favoured him with a benignant smile. “You forget, my -friend, that I am second in command in the Intelligence Department, and -that, during the absence of your particular friend Raoul Sarros, in New -Orleans, I am first in command. Since I already know what those cases -contain, naturally I shall not take the trouble to investigate.” - -“Well, that's a comfort, Colonel.” - -“You have investigated your mining concession, Webster?” Ricardo Ruey -asked. - -“You bet.” - -“What did you find?” - -“A couple of millions in sight.” - -Ricardo shook his head slowly. “It is not in sight, old man,” he -reminded Webster. “Without our aid--and you cannot have our aid unless -our revolution is successful, when you shall have it freely--your -millions are, most positively, not in sight. If you want those millions, -friend Webster, there is but one way to get them--and that is to close -your eyes and play our game to the limit.” - -“It seems to me I've been showing a pretty willing spirit right -along--and that without being consulted in the matter, Rick:” - -“You're one man in a million. I wonder if you'd go further--about forty -thousand dollars further, to be exact.” - -“I might, but I never go it blind for a wad like that. What's your -trouble?” - -“The revolution will fail if you decide to deny my request. I realize I -have the most amazing presumption to ask anything of you, and yet I -am moved to stake my all on your goodness of heart, having already had -ample evidence of that goodness. In other words, I am going to apply the -old principle of driving a willing horse to death. - -“The individual in charge of the funds of the revolutionary junta in New -Orleans was murdered last night; the funds were deposited to his credit -as agent in a certain bank, and before the junta can obtain legal -possession of them again the psychological time for their use will have -passed. - -“We have a steamer chartered, and two hundred men, whose business it is -to fight under any flag at five dollars gold per day and no questions -asked, are now marking time on the Isle of Pines, off the coast of -Cuba, waiting for our steamer to call for them and land them, with their -rifles and ammunition and six seventy-five-millimeter field-guns and -some rapid-fire Maxims, at San Bruno, some eighteen miles up the coast -from here. - -“The guns and munitions are now in Tampa, having been shipped to our -agent there on sight draft, with bill of lading attached; the steamer is -chartered and en route to Tampa from Norfolk, Virginia, and we must pay -the owners ten thousand dollars the day she begins taking on her cargo, -and ten thousand dollars before she unloads it on lighters at San Bruno. - -“We must also pay two hundred men one month's pay in advance--that is, -thirty thousand dollars; we cannot meet this expense and still take up -that sight draft now awaiting our attention in the bank at Tampa. - -“In return for this favour to the provisional government of Sobrante, -you shall have the note of the provisional government, signed by the -provisional president, myself, and the provisional cabinet, Doctor -Pachecho, Colonel Caraveo, and two other gentlemen whom you will meet in -due course unless in the interim they should be killed. And as a bonus -for saving this country from a brutal dictator, who is pillaging its -resources for his personal profit, you shall have a deed of gift to that -mining concession you and your friend Geary are so desirous of working; -also the title shall be certified by the government and the Supreme -Court of Sobrante and absolutely secured to you against future -aggression in the event that the new régime should be overthrown at some -future date. Also you have my profound gratitude and that of my people.” - -“Tell me your plan of campaign,” Webster suggested. - -“In a secret rendezvous in the mountains I have one thousand picked -men--my father's veterans. They are armed with modern rifles and -machetes. The nitrate company, which has been suffering from heavy -export duties imposed by Sarros, would help us financially, I think, but -it is not well for a provisional government to begin by asking financial -favours of a huge foreign corporation; so, much to the surprise of their -local manager, to whom I have confided my plans, I have merely asked for -the loan of all the rolling stock of the railroad for one night. It will -be mobilized at San Miguel de Padua by next Saturday night; my troops -will arrive late the same afternoon and entrain at once. - -“In the interim all telephone and telegraph communications with -Buenaventura will be severed. The night previous our steamer will have -discharged her cargo of men and munitions at San Bruno; a chain of -outposts will at once be established and all communication with the -capital will be shut off. - -“On Saturday night, also, the Consolidated Fruit Company's steamer _La -Estrellita_ will make port with thirty Americans in her steerage. These -men will be road-makers and miners imported by Mr. J. S. Webster, and in -order to make certain that they will come, you have already ordered them -by cable. I took the liberty of seeing to it that the cable signed by -you was sent to New Orleans several days ago, and as part of the bluff -of keeping all of your movements under surveillance, a copy of this -cablegram was furnished to the subordinate of our good Colonel Caraveo, -charged with reporting on your movements. We have arranged with the port -doctor to give _La Estrellita_ a clean bill of health the very night she -arrives. Hence the ship's authorities will not be suspicious, I hope, -when we remove our men after dark and house them in Leber's warehouse, -where they will spend the night unpacking those spades, picks, and -shovels of yours and getting the factory grease off them. - -“At four o'clock in the morning various citizens of Sobrante, with -rebellion in their hearts, will begin to mobilize at Leber's warehouse, -where they will be issued rifles and ammunition and where they will -wait until the action is opened to the south by the detachment from San -Bruno, which, having marched from San Bruno the night before, will have -arrived outside, the city, and will be awaiting the signal from me. I -will attack from the west--cautiously. - -“Now, there are five thousand government troops in the city and in -various cantonments on the outskirts. These cantonments are to be rushed -and set afire; I figure that the confusion of our sudden attack will -create a riot--particularly when I do something that isn't very popular -as a war feature down this way, and that is charge--and keep on coming. -Down this way, you know, Webster, a battle consists in a horrible -wastage of ammunition at long range, and casualties of three killed and -twelve wounded. The good, old-fashioned charge isn't to their liking; -they hate cold steel. - -“These government troops will start to fall back on the city, only to -find themselves flanked by a fierce artillery fire from the San Bruno -contingent; the troops from the arsenal, the Guards at the palace and -the Fifteenth Regiment of Infantry, now stationed at the Cuartel de -Infanteria, next the government palace, will be dispatched post haste to -repulse the attack, and four hundred men, with the machine-gun company -waiting in Leber's warehouse, will promptly move upon them from the rear -and capture the arsenal. There are a few thousand rifles and a lot of -ammunition stored there; I miss my guess if, as soon as the news of its -capture by the rebels spreads through the city (and I shall have men to -spread it), I shall not have a few thousand volunteers eager to help -overthrow Sarros. - -“When the government troops find themselves under the kind of shell-fire -I've prepared for them, and with machine guns and Maxims playing on -them, in close formation from the rear, they'll surrender in droves--if -they live to surrender. - -“Once cut off from the arsenal and the palace, Sarros must fight his way -out of the city in order to have the slightest chance to suppress the -rebellion, for he will have no refuge in the city. And with the railroad -and all the rolling stock in our hands, without a commissary for his -troops, without a base of supplies, even should the government troops -fight their way through, they leave the city in my hands and I'll -recruit and arm my men and hunt them down like jack-rabbits at my -leisure. Once let the arsenal and the palace fall into my hands, once -let me proclaim myself provisional president, once let the people know -that Ricardo Ruey, the Beloved, lives again in the person of his son, -and I tell you, Webster, this country is saved.” - -“You lead the army from San Miguel de Padua, Ricardo. Who leads the -detachment from San Bruno?” - -“Colonel Caraveo.” - -“And the machine-gun company from Leber's warehouse?” - -“Doctor Pacheco. How do you like my plan of campaign?” - -“It couldn't be any better if I had planned it myself. You might accept -my suggestion and armour that little motor truck of mine. It arrived on -yesterday's steamer.” - -“And some armour sheet steel with it--sheet steel already loopholed for -the barrels of the two machine guns it will carry!” Doctor Pacheco cried -joyously. - -“Have you provided a chauffeur, Doctor?” - -“I have--likewise an armoured sheet-steel closet for him to sit in while -chauffeuring.” - -“Don't forget the oil and gasoline,” Webster cautioned him quizzically. - -“How about that loan to the provisional government?” Ricardo demanded -pointedly. - -Webster did not hesitate. After all, what was money to him now? -Moreover, he was between the devil and the deep sea, as it were. Billy -had gone away, his hopes raised high, already a millionaire after the -fashion of mining men, who are ever ready to count their chicks before -they are hatched, provided only they see the eggs. Besides, there was -Dolores. Full well Webster realized that Billy, tossed back once more -into the jaws of the well-known wolf of poverty, would not have the -courage upon his return to Sobrante to ask Dolores to share his poverty -with him; should the revolution fail, Ricardo Ruey would be an outcast, -a hunted man with a price on his head, and in no position to care for -his sister, even should he survive long enough to know he had a sister. -Webster thought of her--so sweet, so winsome, so brave and trusting, -so worthy of all that the world might hold for her of sweetness and -comfort. She would be alone in the world if he, John Stuart Webster, -failed her now--more than ever she needed a man's strength and affection -to help her navigate the tide-rips of life, for life to a woman, alone -and unprotected and dependent upon her labour for the bread she must -eat, must contain, at best, a full measure of terror and despair and -loneliness. He pictured her through a grim processional of years of -skimping and petty sacrifices--and all because he, John Stuart Webster, -had hesitated to lend a dreamer and an idealist a paltry forty thousand -dollars without security. - -No, there was no alternative. As they say in Mexico, Ricardo had him -_tiron_, meaning there was no escape. If his friendship for Billy -was worth a sou, it was worth forty thousand dollars; if his silent, -unrequited love for Dolores Ruey was worthy of her, no sacrifice on his -part could be too great, provided it guaranteed her happiness. - -“Ruined again,” he sighed. “This is only another of those numerous -occasions when the tail goes with the hide. How soon do you want the -money?” - -Ricardo Luiz Ruey leaned forward and gazed very earnestly at John Stuart -Webster. “Do you really trust me that much, my friend?” he asked -feelingly. “Remember, I am asking you for forty thousand dollars on -faith.” - -“Old sport,” John Stuart Webster answered, “you went overboard in -Buenaventura harbour and took a chance among those big, liver-coloured, -hammerheaded sharks. And you did that because you had a cause you -thought worth dying for. I never knew a man who had a cause that was -worth dying for who would even espouse a cause worth swindling for. You -win--only I want you to understand one thing, Ricardo: I'm not doing -this for the sake of saving that mining concession the Sarros government -gave my friend Geary. I'm above doing a thing like this for money--for -myself. It seems to me I must do it to guarantee the happiness of two -people I love: my friend Geary and the girl he's going to marry. I -reject your promissory note and your promise of a deed of gift for that -concession, and accept only your gratitude. There are no strings to this -loan, because it isn't a loan at all. It's a bet. If you lose, I'll help -you get out of the country and absolve you of any indebtedness to me. -We'll just make a new book and start making bets all over again, Rick. -However, if you should win, I know you'll reimburse me from the national -treasury.” - -“And you do not desire a bonus?” - -“Nothing that will cost the citizens of this country one penny of their -heritage. I'm going to bet this money--bet it, understand, not loan it, -because a loan predicates repayment at some future date, and for the -sake of my self-respect as a business man I'd hate to make a bum loan -of that magnitude on no security. However, if you want to be a sport and -grant me a little favour in return, you can.” - -“Name it, friend.” - -“As soon as you have been recognized by the United States, I want you to -have your ambassador in Washington make representations to my government -that the present American consul in Sobrante is not acceptable to your -government. That fellow is a disgrace to my native land and I want him -fired.” - -“It shall be my first official act after freeing my country from a -tyrant's yoke.” - -“Another little favour also, Ricardo.” This time Webster spoke in -English. - -“Eire away.” - -“After I give you this money, I don't want the Doctor and the Colonel to -kiss me to show how grateful they are.” - -“You wonderful fellow! Jack Webster, if I had a sister I should want her -to marry you.” - -“Shows how little you'd think of your sister--staking her to a -sentimental jackass. Shall I cable the money to New Orleans in the -morning? I have a letter of credit for my entire bank-roll, and I can -give a draft at the Banco Nacional, and have them cable a New Orleans -bank.” - -“That will do very nicely.” - -“To whom shall I cable the money?” - -“Send it to the Picayune National Bank of New Orleans, with instructions -to credit account Number 246, J. E. P., trustee. In this little game -we are playing, my friend, it is safer to deal in numbers and initials -rather than names. The local cable office leaks quite regularly.” - -“Very well, Ricardo, I'll attend to it first thing in the morning. Where -are you going to armour that motor truck?” - -“If you'll have it run over to the nitrate company's machine shop at the -railway terminus the foreman there will attend to the job and keep -the truck under cover until Friday night, when they'll run it back to -Leber's warehouse for the machine guns Sunday morning.” - -“Is Leber in on this deal?” - -“He is not. What Leber doesn't know will not worry him. He doesn't live -in his warehouse, you know. We're just going to take possession after -dark, when the water-front is absolutely deserted. There's a concert on -the Malecon that night, and everybody who can ride or walk will be out -there listening to it.” - -Webster nodded his approval of Ricardo's clever plans. “All right, old -man, go to it and win, or there'll be several new faces whining around -the devil, not the least of which will be mine. When you charge, -remember you're charging for my forty thousand dollars--and go through -with it. I worked rather hard for that forty thousand, and if I must -lose it, I do not want to do it in a half-hearted fight. Give me, at -least, a bloody run for my money. I'll have a reserved seat somewhere -watching the game.” - -“If you'll take my advice, you'll go aboard _La Estrellita_ and stay -there until the issue is decided. When the first gun is fired, it -signals the open season on mining engineers who butt in on affairs of -state.” - -“What! And me with a healthy bet down on the result! I hope I'm a better -sport than that.” - -“You're incorrigible. Be careful, then, and don't get yourself potted by -a stray bullet. When these brownies of mine get excited, they shoot at -every head in sight.” - -“Shall I see you fellows before the blow-off?” - -“I scarcely think so.” - -“Then if you're through with me, I'll bid you all good-bye and good -luck. I'll have dinner with you in the palace Sunday evening.” - -“Taken.” - -“May I bring a guest?” - -“By all means.” - -Webster shook hands with the trio and departed for his hotel. For the -first time in many years he was heavy of heart, crushed. “Neddy Jerome -was right,” he soliloquized. “This is the last place on earth for me to -have come to. I've made Neddy sore on me, and he's lost patience and -put another man in the job he promised me; I've raised Billy's hopes -sky-high and had to bet forty thousand dollars to keep them there; I've -been fool enough to fall in love with my friend's fiancée; I'm a human -cat's-paw, and the finest thing I can do now is to go out next Sunday -morning with that machine-gun company from Leber's warehouse and get -killed. And I would, too, in a holy second, if killing a dozen of these -spiggoties were part of a mining engineer's business. I just don't -belong in this quarrel and I cannot kill for pleasure or profit. All I -get out of this deal is gratitude and empty honour, where I dreamed of -love and a home in my old age. John Stuart Webster, the family friend! -Well, after all, it isn't every old sour-dough that has an opportunity -to be a liberator, and even if I have lost Dolores, I have this -melancholy satisfaction: I have a rattling good chance of getting that -scrubby American consul.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII - - -|THE following morning Webster informed Dolores fully of his interview -with her brother and his confrères the night before, concealing from her -only the fact that he was financing the revolution and his reasons for -financing it. He was still depressed, and Dolores, observing his mood, -forbore to intrude upon it. Intuitively she realized that when a man -is worried and harassed by matters he cannot or dares hot divulge, he -dislikes being talked to, but prefers to be alone and wrestle with them -in silence. Accordingly she claimed the prerogative of her sex--a slight -headache--and retreated to her room, In the privacy of which she was -suddenly very much surprised to find herself weeping softly because John -Stuart Webster was unhappy and didn't deserve to be. - -It was impossible, however, for Webster long to remain impervious to the -note of ridiculousness underlying the forthcoming tragic events. Here -was a little two-by-four poverty-stricken hot-bed of ignorance and -intrigue calling itself a republic, a little stretch of country no -larger than a couple of big western counties, about to indulge in the -national pastime of civil war and unable to do it except by grace of an -humble citizen of a sister republic! - -Five thousand ignorant, ill-equipped, ill-drilled semi-brigands calling -themselves soldiers, entrusted with the task of enabling one of their -number to ride, horse and dog, over a million people! - -How farcical! No wonder Ricardo, with his northern viewpoint, approached -his patriotic task with gayety, almost with contempt. And when Webster -recalled that the about-to-be-born provisional government had casually -borrowed from him the sum of forty thousand dollars in order to turn -the trick--borrowing it, forsooth, in much the same spirit as a commuter -boarding his train without the necessary fare hails a neighbour and -borrows ten cents--his natural optimism asserted itself and he chuckled -as in fancy he heard himself telling the story to Neddy Jerome and being -branded a liar for his pains. - -“Well, I've had one comfort ever since I first saw that girl,” he -reflected philosophically. “While I've never been so unhappy in all my -life before, or had to tear my soul out by the roots so often, things -have been coming my way so fast from other directions that I haven't -had much opportunity to dwell on the matter. And for these compensating -offsets, good Lord, I thank thee.” - -He was John Stuart Webster again when Dolores saw him next; during the -succeeding days his mood of cheerfulness and devil-may-care indifference -never left him. And throughout that period of marking time Dolores was -much in his society, a condition which he told himself was not to his -liking but which, nevertheless, he could not obviate without seeming -indifferent to her happiness. And to permit his friend's fiancee to -languish in loneliness and heart-break did not appear to John Stuart -Webster as the part of a true friend or a courtly gentleman--and he -remembered that she had once called him that. - -They rode together in the cool of the morning; they drove together on -the Malecon in the cool of the evening; chaperoned by Don Juan Cafetéro -and a grinning Sobrantean, they went shark-fishing in Leber's launch; -they played dominoes together; they discussed, throughout the long, -lazy, quiet afternoons, when the remainder of their world retired for -the siesta, books, art, men, women, and things. - -And not once, throughout those two weeks of camaraderie, did the -heart-racked Webster forget for a single instant that he was the new -friend, destined to become the old friend; never, to the girl's watchful -eyes, did he betray the slightest disposition to establish their -friendly relations on a closer basis. - -Thus did the arrival of The Day find them. Toward sunset they rode out -together along the bay shore and noted far out to sea the smear of smoke -that marked the approach of La Estrellita--on schedule time. As they -jogged homeward in the dusk, her red and green side-lights were visible -as she crept into the harbour; above the sobbing murmur of the Caribbean -wavelets they heard the scream of her winches and the rattle of chain as -her anchor bit the bottom. - -“You will go aboard her to-night,” Webster said very quietly to Dolores. - -“And you?” - -“I shall go aboard with you. I have arranged with Don Juan for him to -stay ashore and to come out in Leber's launch with the first reliable -news of the conflict. If Ricardo wins the city, he wins the revolution, -and you and I will then go ashore--to dine with him in the palace. If -he loses the city, he loses the revolution, and we will both do well to -remain aboard _La Estrellita_.” - -“And in that event, what will become of my brother?” - -“I do not know; I forgot to ask him, but if he survives, I imagine he'll -have sense enough to know he's whipped and will retreat on San Bruno, -fighting a rear-guard action, embark aboard the steamer that brought his -men there, and escape.” - -“But he has so few men,” she quavered. - -“Two hundred of them are white soldiers of fortune--and you must -remember how Walker manhandled Nicaragua with that number of men.” - -“I'm worried about Mother Jenks.” - -“I have asked Mother Jenks to dine with us at seven-thirty this evening, -and have ordered a carriage to call for her. When she comes I'll tell -her everything; then, if she wishes to stay ashore, let her. She's been -through more than one such fracas and doesn't mind them at all, I dare -say.” - -And in this Webster was right. Mother Jenks listened in profound -silence, nodding her approval, as Webster related to her the story of -the advent in the country of Ricardo Ruey and his plans, but without -revealing the identity of Andrew Bowers. - -At the conclusion of his recital the old publican merely said: “Gor' -bli' me!” - -After a silence she added: “My sainted 'Enery used to s'y the proper -hodds for a white man in a bally row o' this nature was forty to one. -'The spiggoty,' says 'e, shoots from 'is 'ip, but the wisitin' brother's -spent 'is 'prenticeship at the butts some-w'ere or other an' 'as -bloomin' well learned to sight an' 'old his breath 'arf in an' 'arf out -when 'e pulls. Gor', but how my sainted 'Enery would henjoy bein' 'ere -this night to 'elp with the guns.” She sighed. - -“How about a little bottle of wine to drink peace to your sainted Henry -and luck to The Cause?” Webster suggested. - -“That's wot I calls talkin',” Mother Jenks responded promptly, and -Webster, gazing reflectively at the old lady's beard, wondered why she -had not been born a man. - -Dolores, fearful for her benefactor's safety, urged Mother Jenks to -accompany them out aboard _La Estrellita_, but the old dame indignantly -refused, and when pressed for a reason gave it with the utmost -frankness: “They'll be tykin' Sarros, an' when they tyke 'im they'll -back him ag'in the same wall he backed my sainted 'Enery and your father -against, my dear. I've a notion that your father's son 'll let Mrs. -Colonel 'Enery Jenks come to the party.” - -At ten o'clock Webster accompanied Mother Jenks home in the carriage, -which he dismissed at El Buen Amigo--with instructions to return to the -hotel while he continued afoot down the Calle San Rosario to the -bay, where Leber's huge corrugated-iron warehouse loomed darkly above -high-water mark. If there was light within, it was not visible, but -Webster, pausing and listening at one corner of the great structure, -could hear the confused murmur of many voices, with an occasional hearty -oath in English rising above the murmur. - -He slipped along in the deep shadow of the warehouse wall and out on the -end of the little dock, where he satisfied himself that Leber's launch -was at its moorings; then he went back to the warehouse and whistled -softly, whereupon a man crawled out from under the structure and -approached him. It was Don Juan Cafetéro. - -“They're all inside,” he whispered and laid finger on lip. “A lad came -down at eight o'clock, took Leber's launch an' wint out to the steamer -afther thim. They got in half an hour ago, an' divil a sowl the wiser -save meself.” - -“Thank you, John. Now that I know the coast is clear and the launch -ready, I'll go back to the hotel for Miss Ruey.” - -“Very well, sor,” Don Juan replied, and crawled back under the -warehouse. - -Half an hour later the sound of hoofbeats warned him of the approach -of Webster and Dolores in a carriage, and he came forth, loaded in the -launch such baggage as they had been enabled to bring, and held the -gunwale of the boat while his passengers stepped aboard. - -While Don Juan cast off the painter, Webster primed the motor and turned -it over; with a snort it started, and under Webster's guidance the -launch backed swiftly out into the bay, where Don Juan lighted the -side-lights and riding-light, and loafed off into the darkness. - -About a half a mile off shore Webster throttled down the motor until -the launch barely made steerage way. “It would never do to go aboard the -steamer _before_ the fracas started ashore,” he explained to Dolores. -“That would indicate a guilty knowledge of coming events, and in the -event of disaster to the rebel arms it is just possible Senor Sarros -might have pull enough, if he hears of our flight six hours in advance -of hostilities, to take us off the steamer and ask us to explain. So -we'll just cruise slowly around and listen; the attack will come just -before dawn; then shortly thereafter we can scurry out to the steamer -and be welcomed aboard for the sake of the news we bring.” - -She did not answer, and Webster knew her thoughts were out where the -arc-lights on the outskirts of Buenaventura met the open country--out -where the brother she could scarcely remember and whom, until a month -previous, she had believed dead, would shortly muster his not too -numerous followers. - -In the darkness Webster could hear the click of her beads as she prayed; -on the turtle deck forward. - -Don Juan Cafetéro sprawled, thinking perchance of his unlovely past and -wondering what effect the events shortly to transpire ashore would have -on his future. He wished Webster would relent and offer him a drink some -time within the next twenty-four hours. In times of excitement like the -present a man needs a drop to brace him up. - -Five times the launch slipped lazily down the harbour along the -straggling two mile water-front; five times it loafed back. The moon, -which was in the first quarter, sank. For the hundredth time Don Juan -Cafetéro chanted dolorously “The Death of Sarsfield” and the tuneful -glories of the late O'Donnel Abu--and then to Webster's alert ear there -floated across the still waters the sound of a gentle purring--the music -of an auto-truck. He set the launch in toward Leber's little dock, and -presently they saw the door of Leber's warehouse open. Men with lanterns -streamed forth, lighting the way for others who bore between them heavy -burdens. - -“They're emplacing the machine guns in the motor-truck,” he whispered to -Dolores. “We will not have to wait long now. It's nearly four o'clock.” - -Again they backed out into the bay until they could see far out over the -sleeping city to the hills beyond in the west. Presently along the side -of those hills the headlight of a locomotive crept, dropping swiftly -down grade until it disappeared in the lowlands. - -A half-hour passed; then to the south of the city a rocket flared -skyward; almost instantly another flared from the west, followed -presently by a murmur, scarcely audible, as of a muffled snare -drum, punctuated presently by a louder, sharper, insistent -_puck-puch-puch-puch_ that, had Webster but known it, was the bark of -a Maxim-Vickers rapid-fire gun throwing a stream of shells into the -cantonments of the government troops on the fringe of the city. - -Webster's pulse quickened. He was possessed of that feeling which -actuates a small boy to follow the fire-engines. “There goes the -'tillery to the south, sor,” Don Juan called, and even as he spoke, a -shell burst gloriously over the government palace, the white walls of -which were already looming over the remainder of the city, now faintly -visible in the approaching dawn. - -“That was to awaken our friend Sarros,” Webster cried. “I'll bet a -buffalo nickel that woke the old horsethief up. There's another--and -another.” The uproar swelled, the noise gradually drifting around the -city from west to south, forming, seemingly, a semicircle of sound. “The -government troops are up and doing now,” Webster observed, and speeded -up his motor. “I think it high time we played the part of frightened -refugees. When that machine-gun company with its infantry escort starts -up through the city from Leber's warehouse it may encounter early -opposition--and I've heard that Mauser bullets kill at three miles. Some -strays may drop out here in the bay.” - -He speeded the launch toward _La Estrellita_, and as the craft scraped -in alongside the great steamer's companion landing, her skipper ran -down the ladder to greet them and inquire eagerly of the trend of events -ashore. - -“We left in a hurry the instant it started,” Webster explained. “As -Americans, we didn't figure we had any interest in that scrap, either -way.” He handed Dolores out on the landing stage, tossed their baggage -after her and followed; Don Juan took the wheel, and the launch slid out -and left them there. - -At the head of the companion ladder Webster paused and turned for -another look at Buenaventura. To the west three great fires now threw -a lurid light skyward, mocking an equally lurid light to the east, that -marked the approach of daylight. He smiled. “Those are the cantonment -barracks burning,” he whispered to Dolores. “Ricardo is keeping his -word. He's driving the rats back into their own holes.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV - -|THE weeks of clean living, of abstention from his wonted daily -alcoholic ration, had inspired in Don Juan Cafetéro a revival of his all -but defunct interest in life; conversely, in these stirring times, he -was sensible of an equally acute interest in Sobrantean politics, for he -was Irish; and flabby indeed is that son of the Green Little Isle who, -wherever he may be, declines to take a hand in any public argument. For -the love of politics, like the love of home, is never dead in the -Irish. It is instinct with them--the heritage, perhaps, of centuries -of oppression and suppression, which nurtures rather than stifles the -yearning for place and power. Now as Don Juan turned Leber's launch -shoreward and kicked the motor wide open, he, too, descried against the -dawn the glare of the burning cantonments west of the city, and at the -sight his pulse beat high with the lust of battle, the longing to be in -at the death in this struggle, where the hopes and aspirations of those -he loved were at stake. - -Two months previously a revolution would have been a matter of extreme -indifference to Don Juan; he would have reflected that it was merely the -outs trying to get in, and that if they succeeded, the sole benefit to -the general public would be the privilege of paying the bill. It was all -very well, perhaps, to appoint a new _jefe politico_, if only for the -sake of diversion, but new or old they “jugged” or booted Don Juan -Cafetéro impartially from time to time; the lowliest peon could shoulder -the derelict off the narrow sidewalks, while the policeman on the beat -looked on and grinned. Consequently, drunk or sober, Don Juan would not -have fought with or for a Sobrantean, since he knew from experience -that either line of activity was certain to prove unprofitable. To-day, -however, in the knowledge that he had an opportunity to fight beside -white men and perchance even up some old scores with the _Guardia -Civil_, it occurred suddenly to Don Juan that it would be a brave -and virtuous act to cast his lot with the Ruey forces. He was a -being reorganized and rebuilt, and it behooved him to do something to -demonstrate his manhood. - -Don Juan knew, of course, that should the rebels lose and he be -captured, he would be executed; yet this contingency seemed a -far-fetched one, in view of the fact that he had John Stuart Webster at -his back, ready to finance his escape from the city. Also Don Juan -had had an opportunity, in the hills above San Miguel de Padua, for a -critical study of Ricardo Ruey and had come to the conclusion that at -last a real man had come to liberate Sobrante; further, Don Juan had -had ocular evidence that John Stuart Webster was connected with the -revolution, for had he not smuggled Ruey into the country? It was -something to be the right-hand man of the president of a rich little -country like Sobrante; it was also something to be as close to that -right-hand man as Don Juan was to his master, Webster; consequently -self-interest and his sporting code whispered to Don Juan that it -behooved him to demonstrate his loyalty with every means at his command, -even unto his heart's blood. - -“Who knows,” he cogitated as the launch bore him swiftly shoreward, “but -what I'll acquit meself with honour and get a fine job undher the new -administhration? 'Tis the masther's fight, I'm thinkin'; then, be the -same token, 'tis John Joseph Cafferty's, win, lose or dhraw; an' may -the divil damn me if I fail him afther what he's done for me. Sure, if -Gineral Ruey wins, a crook av the masther's finger will make me _jefe -'politico_. An' if he does--hoo-roo! Hoo-ray!” - -With his imagination still running riot, Don Juan made the launch fast -to the little dock, down which, he ran straight for the warehouse, -where the Ruey mercenaries were still congregated, busily wiping the -factory-grease from the weapons which had just been distributed to them -from the packing-cases. A sharp voice halted him, he paused, panting, to -find himself looking down the long blue barrel of a service pistol. - -“Who are you, and what are you doing here?” the man behind the weapon -demanded brusquely. - -“I'm Private John J. Cafferty, the latest recruit to the Ruey army,” Don -Juan answered composedly. “Who did ye think I was? Private secreth'ry to -that divil Sarros? Man, dear, lower that gun av yours, for God knows -I'm nervous enough as it is. Have ye somethin' ye could give me to fight -wit,' avic?” - -The man who had challenged him--a lank, swarthy individual from the -Mexican border--looked him over with twinkling eyes. “You'll do, -Cafferty, old-timer,” he drawled, “and if you don't, you'll wish you -had. There's a man for every rifle just now, but I wouldn't be surprised -if there'd be a right smart more rifles than men before a great while. -Help yourself to the gun o' the first man that goes down; in the -meantime, hop into that there truck and keep the cartridge belt for the -machine guns full up. You're just in time.” - -Without further ado Don Juan climbed into the truck. A little citadel of -sheet steel had been built around the driver's seat, with a narrow slit -in front through which the latter peered out. The body of the truck -had been boxed in with the same material and housed two machine guns, -emplaced, and a crew of half a dozen men crouched on the floor, -busily engaged in loading the belts. Four motor bicycles, with sturdy, -specially built side-cars attached, and a machine gun in each side-car, -were waiting near by, together with a half-dozen country carts loaded -with ammunition cases and drawn by horses. - -“How soon do we start?” Don Juan demanded anxiously, as he crowded in -beside one of his newfound comrades. - -“I believe,” this individual replied in the unmistakable accents of an -Oxford man, “that the plan is to wait until five o'clock; by that time -all the government troops that can be spared from the arsenal and palace -will have been dispatched to the fighting now taking place west of the -city. Naturally, the government forces aren't anticipating an attack -from the rear, and so they will, in all probability, weaken their base. -I believe that eases our task; certainly it will save us many men.” - -Don Juan nodded his entire approval to this shrewd plan of campaign and -fell to stuffing cartridges in the web belting, the while he whistled -softly, unmusically, and with puffing, hissing sounds between his -snaggle teeth, until a Sobrantean gentleman (it was Doctor Pacheco) came -out of the warehouse and gave the order to proceed. - -They moved out silently, the Sobrantean rebels falling into line behind -the auto-truck, the motorcycle battery, and the transport-carts, all of -which were in charge of the machine gun company. They marched along -the water-front for four blocks and then turned up a side street, which -happened to be the Calle de Concordia, thus enabling Mother Jenks, who -was peering from the doorway of El Buen Amigo, to see them coming. - -“Hah!” she muttered. “'Enery, they're cornin'. The worm is turnin', -'Enery; fifteen years you've wyted for vengeance, my love, but to-d'y -you'll get it.” - -She waddled out into the street and held up her hand in a gesture -as authoritative and imperious as that of a traffic officer. -“Batter-r-ry 'alt!” she croaked. She had heard the late 'Enery give that -command often enough to have acquired the exact inflection necessary -to make an impression upon men accustomed to obeying such a command -whenever given. Instinctively the column slowed up; some of the Foreign -Legion, old coast-artillerists, no doubt, came to a halt with promptness -and precision; all stared at Mother Jenks. - -“Ow about 'arf a dozen cases o' good brandy for the wounded?” Mother -Jenks suggested. “An' 'ow about a bally old woman for a Red Cross -nurse?” - -“You're on, ma'am,” the foreign leader replied promptly, and translated -the old lady's suggestion to Doctor Pacheco, who accepted gracefully -and thanked Mother Jenks in purest Castilian. So a detail of six men was -told off to carry the six cases of brandy out of El Buen Amigo and load -them on the ammunition carts; then Mother Jenks crawled up into the -armoured truck with the machine-gun crew, and the column once more took -up its line of rapid march. - -The objective of this unsuspected force within the city was, as Ricardo -Ruey shrewdly suspected it might be, poorly garrisoned. Usually a force -of fully five hundred men was stationed at the national arsenal, but the -sharp, savage attack from the west, so sudden and unexpected, had thrown -Sarros into a panic and left him no time to plan his defence carefully. -His first thought had been to send all his available forces to -support the troops bearing the brunt of the rebel attack, and it was -tremendously important that this should be done very promptly, in view -of the lack of information concerning the numerical force of the enemy; -consequently he had reduced the arsenal force to one hundred men and -retained only his favorite troop of the Guards and one company of the -Fifteenth Infantry to protect the palace. - -Acting under hastily given telephonic orders, the commanding officer -at the cantonment barracks had detailed a few hundred men to fight a -rear-guard action while the main army fell back in good order behind a -railway embankment which swept in a wide arc around the city and offered -an excellent substitute for breastworks. This position had scarcely -been attained before the furious advance of the rebels drove in the -rear guard, and pending the capture of the arsenal, Ricardo realized -his operations were at an _impasse_. Promptly he dug himself in, and the -battle developed into a brisk affair of give and take, involving meagre -losses to both factions but an appalling wastage of ammunition. - -The arsenal, a large, modern concrete building with tremendously thick -walls reinforced by steel, would have offered fairly good resistance -to the average field battery. Surrounding it on all four sides was a -reinforced concrete wall thirty feet high, with machine-gun bastions at -each corner and a platform along the wall, inside and twenty-five feet -from the ground, which afforded foot room for infantry which could use -the top five feet of the wall for protection while firing over it. There -was but one entrance, a heavy, barred steel gate which was always -kept locked when it was not necessary to have it opened for ingress or -egress. Given warning of an attack and with sufficient time to prepare -for it, one hundred of the right sort of fighting men could withstand an -indefinite siege by a force not provided with artillery heavier than an -ordinary field gun. With a full realization of this, therefore, Ricardo -and his confrères had designed to accomplish by strategy that which -could not be done by the limited forces at their command. - -The tread of marching men, the purr of the motorcycles and the armoured -truck, during the progress of the invaders up the Calle de Concordia, -aroused the dwellers in that thoroughfare. Those who appeared in -their' doorways, however, as promptly disappeared upon recognizing this -indubitable evidence of local disturbance. As the column approached the -neighbourhood of the arsenal, three detachments broke away from the main -body and disappeared down side streets, to turn at right angles later -and march parallel with the main command. Each of these detachments was -accompanied by one unit of the motorcycle-mounted machine-gun battery -with its white crew; two blocks beyond the arsenal square each -detachment leader so disposed his men as to offer spirited resistance to -any sortie that might be made by the troops from the palace in the hope -of driving off the attackers of the arsenal. - -Having thus provided for protection during its operations, the main body -nominally under Doctor Pacheco but in reality commanded by the chief of -the machine-gun company, proceeded to operate. With the utmost assurance -in the world the armoured truck rolled down the street to the arsenal -entrance, swung in and pointed its impudent nose straight at the iron -bars while the hidden chauffeur called loudly and profanely in Spanish -upon the sentry to open the gate and let him in--that there was -necessity for great hurry, since he had been sent down from the palace -by the _présidente_ himself, for machine guns to equip this armoured -motor-car. The sentry immediately called the officer of the guard, who -peered out, observed nothing but the motor-truck, which seemed far from -dangerous, and without further ado inserted a huge key in the lock and -turned the bolt. The sentry swung the double gates ajar, and with a -prolonged and raucous toot of its horn the big car loafed in. The sentry -closed the gate again, while the officer stepped up to turn the key in -the lock. Instead, he died with half a dozen pistol bullets through his -body, while the sentry sprawled beside him. - -The prolonged toot of the motor-horn had been the signal agreed upon to -apprise the detachment waiting in a secluded back street that the truck -was inside the arsenal wall. With a yell they swept out of the side -street and down on the gate, through which they poured into the arsenal -grounds. At sound of the first shot at the gate, the _comandante_ of the -garrison, which had been drawn up in double rank for reveille roll -call, realized he was attacked and that swift measures were necessary. -Fortunately for him, his men were standing at attention at the time, -preparatory to receiving from him one of those ante-battle exhortations -so dear to the Latin soul. - -A sharp command, and the little garrison had fixed bayonets; another -command, and they were in line of squads; before the auto-truck could -be swung sideways to permit a machine gun to play on the Sobranteans -in close formation, the latter had thrown out a skirmish fine and were -charging; while from the guardhouse window, just inside the gate, a -volley, poured into the unprotected rear of the truck following its -passage through the gate, did deadly execution. The driver, a bullet -through his back, sagged forward into his steel-clad citadel; both -machine-gun operators were wounded, and the truck was stalled. The -situation was desperate. - -“I'm a gone goose,” mourned Don Juan Cafetéro, and he leaped from the -shambles to the ground, with some hazy notion of making his escape -through the gate. He was too late. Two men, riding tandem on a -motorcycle with a machine gun in the specially constructed side-car, -appeared in the entrance and leaped off; almost before Don Juan had time -to dodge behind the motor-truck to escape possible wild bullets, the -machine gun was sweeping the oncoming skirmish line. Don Juan cheered -as man after man of the garrison pitched on his face, for the odds were -rapidly being evened now, greatly to the pleasure of the men charging -through the gate to support the machine gun. Out into the arsenal yard -they swept, forcing the machine-gun crew to cease firing because of the -danger of killing their own men; with a shock bayonet met bayonet in the -centre of the yard, and the issue was up for prompt and final decision. - -Don Juan's Hibernian blood thrilled; he cast about for a weapon in this -emergency, and his glance rested on the body of the dead officer beside -the gate. To possess himself of the latter's heavy “cut-and-thrust” - sword was the work of seconds, and with a royal good will Don Juan -launched himself into the heart of the scrimmage. He had a hazy -impression that he was striking and stabbing, that others were striking -and stabbing at him, that men crowded and breathed and pressed and swore -and grunted around him, that the fighting-room was no better than it -might have been but was rapidly improving. Then the gory fog lifted, -and Doctor Pacheco had Don Juan by the hand; they stood together in the -arsenal entrance, and the little Doctor was explaining to the war-mad -Don Juan that all was over in so far as the arsenal was concerned--the -survivors of the garrison having surrendered--that now, having the -opportunity, he, Doctor Pacheco, desired to thank Don Juan Cafetéro for -his life. Don Juan looked at him amazedly, for he hadn't the slightest -idea what the Doctor was talking about. He spat, gazed around at -the litter of corpses on the arsenal lawn, and nodded his red head -approvingly. - -In an incredibly short space of time the news that the arsenal had been -captured and that Sarros was besieged in the palace spread through -the city. The sight of the red banner of revolution floating over the -arsenal for the first time in fifteen years brought hundreds of willing -recruits to the rebel ranks, as Ricardo Ruey had anticipated; these were -quickly supplied with arms and ammunition; by ten o'clock a battalion -had been formed and sent off, together with the machine-gun company, to -connect with the San Bruno contingent advancing from the south to turn -the flank of the government troops, while the equipping of an additional -battalion proceeded within the arsenal. As fast as the new levies were -armed, they were hurried off to reinforce the handful of white men who -had, after clearing the arsenal, advanced on the palace and now, with -machine guns from the arsenal commanding all avenues of escape from the -trap wherein Sarros found himself, were calmly awaiting developments, -merely keeping an eye open for snipers. - -Thus the forenoon passed away. By one o'clock Don Juan Cafetéro--who -in the absence of close-range fighting had elected himself ordnance -sergeant--passed out the last rifle and ammunition. He was red with -slaughter, slippery with gun-grease, dripping with perspiration and -filthy with dust and dirt. “Begorra,” he declared, “a cowld bottle av -beer would go fine now.” Then, recalling his limitations, he sighed and -put the thought from him. It revived in him, however, for the first time -since he had left the steamer, a memory of John Stuart Webster, and his -promise to the latter to report on the progress of the war. So Don Juan -sought Doctor Pacheco in his headquarters and learned that a signal-man, -heliographing from the roof of the arsenal, had been in communication -with General Ruey, who reported the situation well in hand, with no -doubt of an overwhelming victory before the day should be over. This and -sundry other bits of information Don Juan gleaned and then deserted the -Sobrantean revolutionary army quite as casually as he had joined it, to -make his precarious way down the Calle San Rosario to the bay. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV - -|THROUGHOUT the forenoon Webster and Dolores, from the deck of the -steamer, watched the city. Numerous fires covered it with a pall of -smoke from beneath which came the steady crackle of machine-gun fire, -mingled with the insistent crash of the field batteries which seemingly -had moved up closer to their target. - -[Illustration:ustration 0006] - -By ten o'clock the sounds of battle had swelled to a deeper, steadier -roar, and refugees arriving brought various and fragmentary stories of -the fighting. From this hodge-podge of misinformation, however, Webster -decided that Ricardo's troops were forcing the issue with vim and -determination, and since the most furious fighting was now well in -toward the heart of the city, it seemed reasonable to presume the -struggle was for possession of the arsenal and palace. - -At noon the deep diapason of conflict began to slacken; by one o'clock -it had dwindled considerably, and at two o'clock Webster, gazing -anxiously cityward, observed Leber's launch coming rapidly out from -shore. At the wheel stood Don Juan Cafetéro; as the launch shot in under -the vessel's side he looked up, searching for Webster's face among the -curious throng that lined the rail. - -“Faugh-a-ballagh!” he shrieked. “We've got the divils cornered now. -'Twill be over two hours hince.” - -“Who has won?” a voice called, and another, evidently a humourist and a -shrewd judge of human nature, replied: “Why ask foolish questions? The -rebels, of course. That fellow's Irish and the Irish are born rebels. -Look at the scoundrel. He's black with gun-grease and burned powder -where he isn't red with blood. The butcher!” - -Don Juan tied up the launch at the gangway and leaped up the ladder, -three steps at a time. “Glory be to God,” he panted and hurled himself -into Webster's arms. “I was in it! I was. I got back in time to catch up -wit' the lads at the warehouse an' they were the fine, fightin' divils, -I'll gamble you. Och, 'twas a grrand bit av a fight--whilst it lasted. -They put me in the motor-thruck, loadin' the belts wit' ca'tridges as -fast as the gunners imptied thim, but faith they couldn't keep me there. -I got into the heart av the scrimmage in the yard av the arsenal an' -faith 'twas well for that little Docthor Pacheco I did. 'Twas wurrk to -me likin'. I'd a machete----” - -“You bloodthirsty scoundrel!” Webster shook the war-mad son of Erin. -“I told you not to mix in it, but to hang around on the fringe of the -fight, and bring us early news. Suppose you'd been killed? Who would -have come for us then? Didn't I tell you we had a dinner engagement in -the palace?” - -“Me on the fringes av a fight,” sputtered Don Juan, amazed and outraged. -“Take shame for yerself, sor. There was niver the likes av me hung -around the fringes av a fight, an' well ye know it.” - -“I'm amazed that you even remembered your instructions,” Webster rasped -at him. - -“Sure, our division had cl'aned up nicely an' I had nothin' else to -do, God bless ye. They were besiegin' the palace whin I left, an' small -chance av takin' it for a couple av hours; what fightin' there was on -the outside was shtreet shootin'--an' not to me likin'.” - -“Is it quite safe to bring Miss Ruey ashore, John?” - -“'Tis safe enough at the Hotel Mateo. We have the city for half a mile -beyant, in the rear av them--an' they're not fightin' to get to the -bay. The Guards an' some av the Fifteenth Infanthry regimint are in the -palace an' the _cuartel_ close by, an' thim that we failed to get in the -arsenal have j'ined thim. But the bulk av the Sarros army is thryin' to -break t'rough to the south an' west, to get to the hills. D'ye mind the -spur thrack that runs in a semi-cirrcle around the city? Well, thin, the -rebels are behint the embankmint, takin' it aisy. Have no worry, sor. -Whin we've took the palace we'll move on an' dhrive the vagàbones from -behint up to that railroad embankmint, where _Gineral Ruey_ can bid them -the time av day.” - -Webster turned to Dolores. “Do you wish to go ashore?” - -She nodded, her flashing eyes bent in admiration upon the gory, grimy -Don Juan Cafetéro, for she was half Irish, and in that amazing meeting -she knew the outcast for one of her blood. “I think my brother will -sleep in his father's old room to-night,” she murmured softly. “And I -would sleep in mine.” - -They followed Don Juan down the gangway to the launch and sped back to -the city. The door of Leber's warehouse stood wide open; within was -a litter of greasy rags and broken packing cases, with Leber, quite -mystified, sitting on a keg of nails and staring curiously at it all. - -Guided by Don Juan Cafetéro, Webster and Dolores passed on up the Calle -San Rosario. Occasionally a bullet, fired two or three miles to the -west, droned lazily overhead or dropped with a sharp metallic sound -on the corrugated-iron roofs of a building. At the hotel the proprietor -alone was in evidence, seated behind the desk smoking in profound -indifference. - -In response to Webster's eager inquiries for the latest news from -the front, the placid fellow shrugged and murmured: “_Quien sabe?_” - Evidently for him such stirring scenes had long since lost their -novelty; the bloom was off the peach, as it were. - -Webster went upstairs and helped himself to another automatic and -several spare clips of shells which he had left in his trunk. On his -return to the lobby, Dolores saw what a very near sighted person, -indeed, would have seen--to wit: that he was not pleased to remain -in the hotel and with the spirit of adventure strong within him was -desirous of progressing still farther toward the firing, in the hope -of eliciting some favourable news as to the progress of the fight. She -realized, however, that he would do his duty and remain with her in the -hotel; so she said gaily: - -“Suppose we walk out a little farther, Caliph. Many of the side streets -will be as safe and peaceful as one could desire, and if warfare should -develop in our vicinity we can step into some house.” - -“I do not like to have you run the slightest risk----” he began, but she -pooh-poohed him into silence, took him by the arm with a great air -of camaraderie, and declared they should go forth to adventure--but -cautiously. - -Webster glanced at Don Juan. “We can go a half or three quarters av a -mile out the Calle San Rosario, sor,” the Irishman answered. “After -that 'twill not be a pleasant sight for the young leddy--an' there may -be some shootin'. Squads av the governmint throops took refuge in the -houses an' took to snipin'. 'Twill be shlow wurrk roundin' the last av -thim up. Even afther the fight is over, there'll be scatterin' shootin' -scrapes all av the night long, I'm thinkin'.” - -“At the slightest danger we'll turn back,” Webster announced, and with -Don Juan Cafetéro scouting the way a block in advance they progressed -slowly toward the centre of the disturbance. - -Soon they passed a horse dead in the middle of the street; a little -farther on one of the machine-gun company, a lank Texan, sat on the -curb rolling a cigarette with his left hand. He had a bullet through -his right shoulder and another through the calf of his left leg and -had received no first aid attention; the flies were bothering -him considerably and he was cursing softly and fluently, like the -ex-mule-skinner he was. - -Farther on another white invader lay face down in the gutter; for him -the fight had ended almost ere it had begun. In the next block half a -dozen sandal-footed Sobranteans, in the blue and red-trimmed uniform of -the _Guardia Civil_, lay spawled in uncouth attitudes, where the first -blast of a machine gun had caught them as they rushed out of the police -station to repel the advancing mercenaries. - -Seeing that the main street of the city would assume even a more grisly -aspect the longer they followed it, Don Juan led Webster and Dolores a -couple of blocks down a cross-street and turned out into the Calle de -Hernandez, parallel to the Calle San Rosario. There had been no shooting -in this street, apparently; as they proceeded not even a stray bullet -whined down the silent calle. - -Four blocks from the government palace, however, they found the narrow -sidewalks of this quiet street lined with wounded from both sides, with -a doctor and half a dozen of Ricardo's hired fighters ministering to -them; as they threaded their way between the recumbent figures they came -upon Mother Jenks, brandy bottle and glass in hand, “doing her bit.” - -“Hah! So here you are, my lamb,” she greeted Dolores. “Right-o. Just -where yer ought to be, Gor' bless yer sweet face. Let these poor -misfortunate lads see that the sister o' the new president ain't -too proud to care for 'em. 'Ere, lass. 'Old up the 'ead o' this young -cockerel with the 'ole in 'is neck. 'Ere, lad. Tyke a brace now! 'Ere's -some o' your own people, not a lot o' bloomin' yeller-bellies, come to -put something else in yer neck--somethink that'll stimulate yer.” - -The “young cockerel,” a blond youth of scarce twenty summers, twisted -his head and grinned up at Dolores as she knelt beside him to lift -him up. “Here, here, sister,” he mumbled, “you'll get that white dress -dirty. Never mind me. It's just a flesh wound, only my neck has got -stiff and I'm weak from loss of blood.” - -Mother Jenks winked at Webster as she set a glass of brandy to the -stricken adventurer's lips. “Give me a bit o' the white meat, as my -sainted 'Enery used to s'y,” she murmured comically. - -Dolores looked up at Webster. “I'll stay here,” she said simply. “I've -found a job helping Mother Jenks. You and Don Juan may run along if you -wish. I know you're as curious as children.” - -They were. It would have been impossible for any man with red corpuscles -in his blood to harken to the shooting and shouts only three city blocks -distant without yearning to see the fight itself. - -“I'll return in fifteen minutes, at the latest,” he promised her, and -with Don Juan Cafetéro, who had helped himself to a rifle and bayonet -from one of the wounded, he turned the corner into the next street and -started back toward the Calie San Rosario, which they followed west -through a block plentifully sprinkled with the dead of both factions. - -Don Juan led the way through an alley in the rear of the Catedral de -la Santa Cruz to the door of the sacristy; as he placed his hand on -the latch three rifle bullets struck around them, showering them with -fragments of falling adobe. - -“There's a house party in the neighbourhood,” yelled Don Juan and darted -into the church, with Webster at his heels, just in time to escape -another fusillade. They walked through the sacristy and passed through -a door into the great cathedral, with its high, carved, Gothic-arched -ceiling. Through the thick closed doors of the main entrance, lost in -the dimness of space out in front, the sounds of the battle half a block -away seemed very distant, indeed. - -They passed the altar and Don Juan genuflected and crossed himself -reverently. “I'll be afther makin' me confession,” he whispered to -Webster. “Wait for me, sor.” - -He leaned his rifle against the altar railing, crossed the church and -touched lightly on the shoulder a monk kneeling in prayer before the -altar of the Virgin; the latter bent his head while Don Juan whispered; -then he rose and both went into the confessional, while Webster found a -bench along the wall and waited. - -Presently Don Juan came forth, knelt on the red-tiled floor and -prayed--something, Webster suspected, he had not done for quite a -while. And when he had finished his supplication and procured his rifle, -Webster joined him, the monk unbolted the door and from the quiet of the -house of God they passed out into the street and the tumult of hell. - -“I've been dost to death this day,” Don Juan explained, “an' the day is -not done. Be the same token, 'tis long since I'd made me last confession; -sure, until you picked me out av the mire, sor, 'tis little thought I -had for the hereafter.” - -They were standing on the steps of the cathedral as Don Juan spoke, -and from their place they could see a dozen or more of Ricardo's hired -fighters crouched under the shelter of the palace walls across the -street. “I think we'll be safer there,” Webster cried, as a couple of -bullets struck the stone steps at their feet and ricocheted against the -cathedral door. “That rifle of yours is making you a marked man, Don -Juan.” - -They ran across the street and joined the men under the palace wall. - -“What's this?” Don Juan demanded briskly. “Have ye not shmoked thim out -yet?” - -“Noddings doing,” a young German answered. “Der chief has sent word dot -we shall not artillery use on der balace. Men all aroundt it we haf, mit -a machine gun commanding each gate; most of der poys have chust moved -out west in der rear of der government troops.” - -“Then,” Don Juan declared with conviction, “there'll be no fighting here -to speak av, until later.” - -“Der is blenty of choy hunting snipers, _mein freund_. Der houses -hereabouts vos filled mit dem.” - -“I'll have no cat fights in mine,” Don Juan retorted. “Come wit' -me, sor, an' we'll be in at the death out beyant at the railroad -embankmint.” - -“Too late,” Webster answered, for on the instant to the west the crackle -of rifle and machine-gun fire interluded with the staccato barks of -a Maxim-Vickers broke out, swelling almost immediately to a steady -outpouring of sound. “We'll stay here where we're safe for the finals. -When General Ruey has cleaned up out there he'll come here to take -command.” - -For half an hour the sounds of a brisk engagement to the west did not -slacken; then with disconcerting suddenness the uproar died away fully -50 per cent. - -“They're going in with the bayonet and machetes,” somebody who knew -remarked laconically. “Wait and you'll hear the cheering.” - -They waited fully ten minutes, but presently, as the firing gradually -died away, they heard it, faint and indistinguishable at first, but -gradually coming nearer. And presently the trapped men in the palace -heard it, too. “Viva Ruey! Viva! Viva Ruey!” - -“All over but the shouting,” Don Juan remarked disgustedly. “The lads in -the palace will surrindher now. Sure Gineral Ruey was right afther all. -For why should he shoot holes in the house he's goin' to live in, an' -where, be the same token, he gives a dinner party this night?” - -“I'm glad the end is in sight,” Webster replied. “We have no interest in -this revolution, John, and it isn't up to us to horn in on the play; yet -if it went against the Ruey faction, I fear we'd be forced into active -service in spite of ourselves. There is such a thing as fighting to save -one's skin, you know.” - -Don Juan laughed pleasurably. “What a shame we missed the row out beyant -at the railroad em-bankmint,” he declared. - -“I wish you'd kept out of it, Don Juan. What business had you in the -fight at the _cuartd?_ Suppose you'd been killed?” - -“Small loss!” Don Juan retorted. - -“I should have mourned you nevertheless, John.” - -“Would you that same?” Don Juan's buttermilk eyes lighted with affection -and pleasure. “Would it put a pang in the heart of you, sor, to see me -stretched?” - -“Yes, it would, John. You're a wild, impulsive, lunatic, worthless -Irishman, but there's a broad vein of pay-ore in you, and I want you to -live until I can develop it. When Mr. Geary returns to operate the mine, -he'll need a foreman he can trust.” - -“And do you trust me, sor?” - -“I do indeed, John. By the way, you never gave me your word of honour to -cut out red liquor for keeps. Up till to-day I've had to watch you--and -I don't want to do that. It isn't dignified for either of us, and from -to-day on you must be a man or a mouse. If you prove yourself a man, I -want you in my business; if you prove yourself a mouse, somebody else -may have you. How about you, John? The _cantinas_ will be open to-night, -and firewater will be free to the soldiers of the new republic. Must I -watch you to-night?” - -Don Juan shook his reckless red head. “I'll never let a drop of liquor -cross my lips without your permission, sor,” he promised simply. “I am -the man and you are the master.” - -“We'll shake hands on that!” After the western habit of validating all -verbal agreements with a handshake, Webster thrust his hard hand out to -his man, who took it in both of his and held it for half a minute. He -wanted to speak, but couldn't; he could only bow his head as his eyes -clouded with the tears of his appreciation. “Ah, sor,” he blurted -presently, “I'd die for ye an' welcome the chanst.” - -A wild yell of alarm broke out in the next block, at the north gate of -the palace; there was a sudden flurry of rifle fire and cries of “Here -they come! Stop them! Stop them! They're breaking out!” - -Without awaiting orders the hired fighters along the wall--some fifteen -of them--leaped out into the street, forming a skirmish line, just as a -troop of cavalry, with drawn sabres, swept around the corner and charged -upon the devoted little line. “Sarros must be thryin' to make his -get-away,” Don Juan Cafetéro remarked coolly, and emptied a saddle. -“They threw open the big palace gate, an' the Guards are clearin' a way -for him to the bay.” He emptied another saddle. - -In the meantime Ricardo's fire-eaters had not been idle. The instant the -Guards turned into the street a deadly magazine fire had been opened -on them. They had already suffered heavily winning through the gate and -past the besiegers in front of it, but once they turned the corner into -the next street they had the fire of but a handful of men to contend -with. Nevertheless it was sufficiently deadly. Many of the horses in -the front rank went down with their riders, forcing the maddened animals -behind to clear their carcasses by leaping over them, which some did. -Many, however, tripped and stumbled in their wild gallop, spilling their -riders. - -“Stay by the wall, you madman,” Webster ordered. “There'll be enough -left to ride down those men in the street and sabre them!” - -And there were! They died to a man, and the sadly depleted troop of -Guards galloped, on, leaving Don Juan and Webster unscathed on the -sidewalk, the only two living men unhurt in that shambles. - -Not for long, however, did they have the street to themselves. Around -the corner of the palace wall a limousine, with the curtains drawn, swung -on two wheels, skidded, struck the carcass of a horse and turned over, -catapulting the chauffeur into the middle of the street. - -“Sarros!” shrieked Don Juan and ran to the overturned vehicle. It was -quite empty. - -“Bully boy, Senor Sarros,” Webster laughed. “He's turned à pretty trick, -hasn't he? Sent his Guards out to hack a pathway for an empty limousine! -That means he's hoping to draw the watchers from the other gate!” - -But Don Juan Cafetéro was not listening; he was running at top speed for -the south gate of the palace grounds--and Webster followed. - -As they swung into the street upon which this south gate opened, Webster -saw that it was deserted of all save the dead, for Sarros's clever ruse -had worked well and had had the effect of arousing the curiosity of his -enemies as to the cause of the uproar at the north gate, in consequence -of which they had all scurried around the block to see what they could -see, thus according Sarros the thing he desired most--a fighting chance -and a half minute to get through the gate and headed for the steamship -landing without interference. - -Webster and Don Juan came abreast the high, barred gate in the thick, -twenty-foot masonry wall as the barrier swung back and a man, in -civilian clothes, thundered through on a magnificent bay thoroughbred. - -“That's him. Shtop the divil!” screamed Don Juan. “They'll do the decent -thing be me if I take him alive.” - -To Webster, who had acquired the art of snap shooting while killing time -in many a lonely camp, the bay charger offered an easy mark. “Hate to -down that beautiful animal,” he remarked--and pulled away. - -The horse leaped into the air and came down stifflegged; Sarros spurred -it cruelly, and the gallant beast strove to gather itself into its -stride, staggered and sank to its knees, as with a wild Irish yell Don -Juan Cafetéro reached the dictator's side. - -Sarros drew a revolver, but before he could use it Don Juan tapped him -smartly over the head with his rifle barrel, and the man toppled inertly -to the ground beside his dying horse. - -“More power to ye, sor,” Don Juan called cheerily and turned to receive -Webster's approval. - -What he saw paralyzed him for an instant. Webster was standing beside -the gate, firing into a dozen of Sarros's soldiery who were pouring out -of a house just across the street, where for an hour they had crouched -unseen and unheard by the Ruey men at the gate. They were practically -out of ammunition and had merely been awaiting a favourable opportunity -to escape before the rebels should enter the city in force and the -house-to-house search for snipers should begin. They had been about to -emerge and beat a hasty retreat, when Sarros rode out at the gate, and -with a rush they followed, gaining the sidewalk in time to be witnesses -to the dictator's downfall. - -For a moment they had paused, huddled on the sidewalk behind their -officer, who, turning to scout the street up and down, beheld John -Stuart Webster standing by the gate with an automatic in his hand. At -the same instant Webster's attention had been attracted to the little -band on the sidewalk; in their leader he recognized no less a personage -than his late acquaintance, the fire-eating Captain José Benavides. -Coincidently Benavides recognized Webster. - -It was an awkward situation. Webster realized the issue was about to be -decided, that if he would have it in his favour, he should waste not one -split-second before killing the mercurial Benavides as the latter stood -staring at him. It was not a question, now, of who should beat the other -to the draw, for each had already filled his hand. It was a question, -rather, as to who should recover first from his astonishment. If -Benavides decided to let bygones be bygones and retreat without firing -a shot, then Webster was quite willing to permit him to pass unmolested; -indeed, such was his aversion to shooting any man, so earnestly did he -hope the Sobrantean would consider that discretion was the better part -of valour, that he resolved to inculcate that idea in the Hotspur. - -“Captain Benavides,” he said suavely, “your cause is lost. If you care -to escape aboard the steamer, I will see to it that you are not removed -from her before she sails; if you care to surrender to me now, I give -you my word of honour you will not be executed.” - -Benavides might have had, and doubtless did have, his faults, but -cowardice was not one of them. And he did have the ghost of a sense of -humour. An evil smile flitted over his olive features. - -“Without taking into consideration the bayonets at my back,” he replied, -“it strikes me the odds are even now. And yet you patronize me.” - -Webster was nettled. “I'd rather do that than kill you, Benavides,” he -retorted. “Don't be a fool. Run along and sell your papers, and take -your pitiful little sandal-footed brigands with you. Scat!” - -Benavides's hand, holding his pistol, had been hanging loosely at his -side. With his furious glance meeting Webster's unfalteringly, with -the merest movement of his wrist and scarcely without movement of his -forearm, he threw up his weapon and fired. Scarcely a fifth of a second -had elapsed between the movement of his wrist and the pressure of his -finger on the trigger; Webster, gazing steadily into the sombre eyes, -had noted no hint of the man's intention, and was actually caught off -his guard. - -The bullet tore through his biceps, momentarily paralyzing him, and -his automatic dropped clattering to the sidewalk; as he stooped and -recovered it, Benavides fired again, creasing the top of his left -shoulder. The Sobrantean took aim for a third and finishing shot, but -when he pulled the trigger the hammer fell on a defective cartridge, -which gave to John Stuart Webster all the advantage he craved. He -planted a bullet in Benavides's abdomen with his first shot, blew out -the duelist's brains with his second, and whirled to meet the charge of -the little sandal-footed soldados, who, seeing their leader fallen, had -without an instant's hesitation and apparently by mutual consent decided -to avenge him. - -Webster backed dazedly toward the wall, firing as he did so, but he was -too dizzy to shoot effectively, and the semicircle of bayonets closed in -on his front. He had wounded three men without stopping them; a second -more, and their long, eighteen-inch bayonets would have been in his -vitals, when into the midst of the mêlée, from the rear, dashed Don Juan -Cafetéro, shrieking like a fiend and swinging his rifle, which he held -grasped by the barrel. - -Webster saw a bayonet lunging toward him. He lifted his leg and caught -the point on his boot-heel while with his last cartridge he killed -the man behind the bayonet, just as the latter's next-rank man thrust -straight and true in under the American's left arm, while a third man -jabbed at his stomach and got the bayonet home in his hip. These two -thrusts, delivered almost simultaneously, by their impact carried their -victim backward against the wall, against which his head collided with -a smart thud. He fell forward on his face; before his assailants could -draw back for a finishing thrust, in case the gringo needed it, which -they doubted, Don Juan Cafetéro had brained them both. - -Standing above the man he loved, with the latter's body between his -outspread legs, Don Juan Cafetéro stood for the final accounting, his -buttermilk eyes gleaming hatred and war-madness, his lips drawn back -from his snaggle teeth, his breast rising and falling as they closed in -around him. For a few seconds he was visible swinging his rifle like a -flail, magnificent, unterrified--and then a bayonet slipped in under his -guard. It was the end. - -With a final great effort that used up the last strength in his -drink-corroded muscles he hurled his rifle into the midst of his four -remaining enemies, before he swayed and toppled full length on top of -Webster, shielding with his poor body the man who had fanned to flame -the dying ember of manhood in the wreck that drink and the devil had -cast up on the Caribbean coast. - -For Don Juan Cafetéro it had been a long, joyous, thirsty day, but at -last the day was done. And in order to make certain, a _soldado_ -jabbed him once more through the vitals before he fled with the other -survivors. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI - -|FOR half an hour after Webster left her to assist the great-hearted -Mother Jenks in her rough care of the wounded, Dolores, absorbed in her -work of mercy, gave all of her thought to the grim task before her. The -cries, followed by the sudden, savage outbreak of fire when the Guards -made their dash from the palace, brought Webster and Don Juan to mind -instantly. In a quick access of terror and apprehension she clung, -trembling, to stolid old Mother Jenks. - -“Somebody's breakin' in or breakin' out,” the veteran decided calmly. -“Come to the corner, dearie, an' 'ave a look.” - -She half dragged Dolores to the corner, from which they had an -unobstructed view down the cross-street to its intersection three blocks -distant with the Calle San Rosario; consequently they saw the dozen or -more survivors of that ill-fated dash from the north gate of the palace -flash for a second across their line of vision. Mother Jenks croaked -dismally, like a disreputable old raven; she was trying to cheer. - -“The rats are leavin' the sinkin' ship,” she wheezed. “Come an' see them -tyke the devils as killed my sainted 'Enery.” She broke eagerly from -Dolores's detaining grasp and ran down the street. Dolores hesitated a -moment; then, reasoning that her duty lay in pursuing Mother Jenks and -preventing her from rushing headlong into the conflict, she followed. - -Evidently the fleeing Guards had scurried around a corner into a -cross-street shortly after Dolores and Mother Jenks had seen them gallop -past, for the firing down the Calle San Rosario had ceased entirely by -the time they reached it. They stood a moment at the corner, gazing up -the street at the dead--man and beast--with the wounded crawling out of -the shambles to the sidewalk. - -Mother Jenks nodded approvingly as triumphant shouts from the north -gate told her the Ruey men were pouring into the palace; with their arms -about each other the two women watched and waited--and presently the -national flag on the palace came fluttering down from its staff, to be -raised again with the red banner of revolution fluttering above it, the -insignia of a nation reborn. - -“My lamb,” Mother Jenks said softly to Dolores, “the war is over. Wot's -the matter with goin' in the south gate an' wytin' on the palace steps -for the provisional president to make his grand ountray? If we 'esitate -five minutes they'll have a bloomin' guard on both gates, arskin' us 'oo -we are an' wot we want.” - -“But Mr. Webster will come to that back street looking for me; I must go -back and wait there for him.” - -“Wyte, nothink!” Mother Jenks overruled the girl's protest roughly. -“'E'll 'ave gone into the palace with the crowd for a look-see; we'll -meet 'im there an' syve 'im the trouble o' 'untin' for us. Come!” And she -half dragged the shrinking girl toward the gate, a block distant, where -only a few minutes before Webster and Don Juan Cafetéro had made their -ineffectual stand. - -“Don't look at the blighters, honey,” Mother Jenks warned Dolores when, -in approaching the gate, she caught sight of the bodies strewed in front -of it. “My word! Regular bally mess--an' all spiggoties! Cawn't be. Must -'ave been some white meat on this bird, as my sainted 'Enery uster s'y. -Hah! Thought so! There's a red-headed 'un! Gawd's truth! An' 'e done all -that--Gor' strike me pink! It's Don Juan Cafetéro.” - -Mother Jenks stepped over the gory corpses ringed around Don Juan -and knelt beside him. “Don Juan!” she cried. “You bally, interferin' -blighter, you've gone an' got it!” - -She ran her strong old arms under his dripping body, lifted him and -laid his red head on her knee, while with her free hand she drew a small -flask of brandy from her dress pocket. - -Don Juan opened his buttermilk eyes and gazed up at her with slowly -dawning wonder, then closed them again, drowsily, like a tired child. -Mother Jenks pressed the flask to his blue lips; as the brandy bit his -tongue he rolled his fiery head in feeble protest and weakly set his -teeth against the lip of the flask. Wondering, Mother Jenks withdrew -it--and then Don Juan spoke. - -“Have ye the masther's permission, _allanah?_ I give him me worm av -honour--not--to dhrink--till--he--give--permission. He--was good--to -me--troth he was--God--love--me--boss----” - -His jaw dropped loosely; his head rolled sideways; but ere his spirit -fled, Don Juan Cafetéro had justified the faith of his master. He had -kept his word of honour. He had made good on his brag to die for John -Stuart Webster and welcome the chance! Mother Jenks held his body a -little while, gazing into the face no longer rubicund; then gently she -eased it to the ground and for the first time was aware that Dolores -knelt in the dirt opposite to her striving to lift the body upon which -Don Juan had been lying. - -The strength of Dolores was unequal to the task; so Mother Jenks, -hardened, courageous, calm as her sainted 'Enery at his inglorious -finish, rose and stepped around to her side to help her. She could see -this other was a white man, too; coolly she stooped and wiped his gory -face with the hem of her apron. And then she recognized him! - -“Lift him up! Give him to me!” Dolores sobbed. “Oh, Caliph, my poor -dear, big-hearted blundering boy!” - -She got her arm under his head; Mother Jenks aided her; and the limp -body was lifted to a sitting position; then Dolores knelt on one knee, -supporting him with the other, and drew his head over on her shoulder; -with her white cheek cuddled against his, she spoke into his deaf ears -the little, tender, foolish words that mothers have for their children, -that women have for the stricken men of their love. She pleaded with him -to open his eyes, to speak to her and tell her he still lived; so close -was his face to hers that she saw an old but very faint white scar -running diagonally across his left eyebrow--and kissed it. - -Presently strong arms took him from her; clinging to somebody--she -knew not whom--she followed, moaning broken-heartedly, while eight -men, forming a rude litter with four rifles passed under his body, bore -Webster to the shade of a tufted palm inside the palace gate. - -As they laid Webster down for a moment there Dolores saw a tall, -youthful man, of handsome features and noble bearing, approach and look -at him. In his eyes there were tears; a sob escaped him as with a little -impulsive, affectionate movement he patted John Stuart Webster's cheek. - -“My friend!” the fainting Dolores heard him murmur. “My great-hearted, -whimsical, lovable John Webster. You made it possible for me to meet you -here to-night--and this is the meeting!” - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII - -|WHILE Ricardo watched beside the unconscious Webster one of his aides -galloped up the street, to return presently with a detachment with -stretchers, into which Webster and Don Juan Cafetéro were laid and -carried up the palace driveway into the huge golden reception-hall where -only the night before Sarros had greeted the belles and beaux of his -capital. In the meantime Mother Jenks had succeeded in restoring Dolores -to consciousness; supported by the indomitable old woman the girl slowly -followed the grim procession until, at the door of the reception-room, -they found their further progress barred by a sentry. - -“The red-haired man is dead,” he informed them in response to their -eager queries. “If you want his body,” he continued, hazarding a guess -as to their mission, “I guess you can have it. There he is.” And the -sentry pointed to the stretcher which had been set down along the wall -of the reception-hall. - -“'Ow about the other?” Mother Jenks demanded. Don Juan Cafetéro had, -unfortunately, been so much of a nuisance to her in life that she -was not minded to be troubled greatly over him in death, although the -Spartanlike manner of his exit had thrilled the British bulldog blood in -her. - -“The big fellow isn't quite dead yet, but I'm afraid he's a goner. The -surgeons have him in this room now. Friend of yours, Miss?” he inquired -in tones freighted with neighbourly sympathy. - -Dolores nodded. - -“Sorry I can't let you in, Miss,” he continued, “but the General ordered -me to keep everybody out until the doctors have finished looking him -over. If I was you, I'd wait in that room across the hall; then you can -get the first news when the doctors come out.” - -Mother Jenks accepted his advice and steered her charge into the room -indicated. And as they waited, Ricardo Ruey stood anxiously beside -the table on which John Stuart Webster's big, limp body reposed, while -Doctor Pacheco, assisted by a Sobrantean confrère, went deftly over him -with surgical scissors and cut the blood-soaked clothing from his body. - -“He breathes very gently,” the rebel leader said, presently. “Is there -any hope?” - -The little doctor shrugged. “I fear not. That bayonet-thrust in the left -side missed his heart but not his lung.” - -“But apparently he hasn't bled much from that wound.” - -“The hemorrhage is probably internal. Even if that congestion of blood -in the lungs does not prove fatal very shortly, he cannot, in his -weakened state, survive the traumatic fever from all these wounds. It -is bound--hello, how our poor friend still lives with the bayonet broken -off in his body--for here is steel--hah! Not a bayonet, but a pistol.” - -He unbuttoned the wounded man's coat and found a strap running -diagonally up across his breast and over the right shoulder, connecting -with a holster under the left arm. The doctor unbuckled this strap -and removed the holster, which contained Webster's spare gun; Ricardo, -glancing disinterestedly at the sheathed weapon, noted a small, new, -triangular hole in the leather holster. He picked it up, withdrew the -pistol, and found a deep scratch, recently made, along the blued steel -close to the vulcanite butt. - -When Ricardo glanced at Pacheco after his scrutiny of the pistol and -holster, the doctor's dark eyes were regarding him mirthfully. - -“I have been unnecessarily alarmed, my general,” said Pacheco. “Our dear -friend has been most fortunate in his choice of wounds----” - -“He's a lucky Yankee; that's what he is, my dear Pacheco. A lucky -Yankee!” Ricardo leaned over and examined the bayonet-wound in Webster's -left side. “He took the point of the steel on this pistol he happened to -be wearing under his left arm,” he went on to explain. “That turned the -bayonet and it slid along his ribs, making a superficial flesh-wound.” - -Pacheco nodded. “And this bullet merely burned the top of his right -shoulder, while another passed through his biceps without touching the -bone. His most severe wound is this jab in the hip.” - -They stripped every stitch of clothing from Webster and went over him -carefully. At the back of his head they found a little clotted blood -from a small split in the scalp; also they found a lump of generous -proportions. Pacheco laughed briefly but contentedly. - -“Then he is not even seriously injured?” Ricardo interrupted that laugh. - -“I would die of fright if I had to fight this fine fellow a month -from to-day,” the little doctor chirped. “Look at that chest, _mi -general_--and that flat abdomen. The man is in superb physical -condition; it is the bump on the head that renders him unconscious--not -loss of blood.” - -As if to confirm this expert testimony Webster at that moment breathed -long and deeply, screwed up his face and shook his head very slightly. -Thereafter for several minutes he gave no further evidence of an active -interest in life--seeing which Pacheco decided to take prompt advantage -of his unconsciousness and probe the wounds in his arm and shoulder for -the fragments of clothing which the bullets must have carried into them. -After ten minutes of probing Pacheco announced that he was through and -ready to bandage; whereupon John Stuart Webster said faintly but very -distinctly, in English: - -“I'm awfully glad you are, Doc'. It hurt like hell! Did you manage to -get a bite on that fishing-trip?” - -“Jack Webster, you scoundrel!” Ricardo yelled joyously, and he shook the -patient with entire disregard of the latter's wounds. “Oh, man, I'm glad -you're not dead.” - -“Your sentiments appeal to me strongly, my friend. I'm--too--tired to -look--at you. Who the devil--are you?” - -“I'm Ricardo.” - -Fell a silence, while Webster prepared for another speech. “Where am I?” - -“In the palace.” - -“Hum-m! Then it was a famous victory.” - -“One strong, decisive blow did the trick, old chap. We won pulled-up, -and that forty-thousand-dollar bet of yours is safe. I'll cash the -ticket for you tomorrow morning.” - -“Damn the forty thousand. Where's my Croppy Boy?” - -“Your what?” - -“My wild Irish blackthorn, Don Juan Cafetéro.” - -“I hope, old man, he has ere now that which all brave Irishmen and true -deserve--a harp with a crown. In life the Irish have the harp without -the crown, you know.” - -“How did he die?” Webster whispered. - -“He died hard, with the holes in front--and he died for you.” - -Two big tears trickled slowly through Webster's closed lids and rolled -across his pale cheek. “Poor, lost, lonesome, misunderstood wreck,” he -murmured presently, “he was an extremist in all things. He used to sing -those wonderfully poetic ballads of his people--I remember one that -began: 'Green were the fields where my forefathers dwelt.' I think his -heart was in Kerry--so we'll send him there. He's my dead, Ricardo; care -for his body, because I'm--going to plant Don Juan with the--shamrocks. -They didn't understand him here. He was an exile--so I'm going to send -him--home.” - -“He shall have a military funeral,” Rocardo promised. - -“From the cathedral,” Webster added. “And take a picture of it for -his people. He told me about them. I want them to think he amounted -to something, after all. And when you get this two-by-four republic of -yours going again, Rick, you might have your congress award Don Juan a -thousand dollars _oro_ for capturing Sarros. Then we can send the money -to his old folks.” - -“But he didn't capture Sarros,” Ricardo protested. “The man escaped when -the Guards cut their way through.” - -“He didn't. That was a ruse while he beat it out the gate where you -found me. I saw Don Juan knock him cold with the but of his rifle after -I'd brought down his horse.” - -“Do you think he's there yet?” - -“He may be--provided all this didn't happen the day before yesterday. If -I wanted him, I'd go down and look for him, Rick.” - -“I'll go right away, Jack.” - -“One minute, then. Send a man around to that little back street where -they have the wounded--it's a couple of blocks away from here--to tell -Mother Jenks and the young lady with her I'll not be back.” - -“They're both outside now. They must have gone looking for you, because -they found you and Don Juan first and then told me about it.” - -“Who told you?” - -“Mother Jenks.” - -“Oh! Well, run along and get your man.” Ricardo departed on the run, -taking the sentry at the door with him and in his haste giving no -thought to Mother Jenks and her companion waiting for the doctor's -verdict. In the palace grounds he gathered two more men and bade them -follow him; leading by twenty yards, he emerged at the gate and paused -to look around him. - -Some hundred feet down the street from the palace gate Sarros's bay -charger lay dead. When Webster's bullet brought the poor beast down, his -rider had fallen clear of him, only to fall a victim to the ferocity of -Don Juan Cafetéro. Later, as Sarros lay stunned and bleeding beside his -mount, the stricken animal in its death-struggle had half risen, only -to fall again, this time on the extended left leg of his late master; -consequently when Sarros recovered consciousness following the -thoughtful attentions of his assailant, it was to discover himself a -hopeless prisoner. The heavy carcass of his horse pinned his foot and -part of his leg to the ground, rendering him as helpless and desperate -as a trapped animal. For several minutes now he had been striving -frantically to release himself; with his sound right leg pressed against -the animal's backbone he tried to gain sufficient purchase to withdraw -his left leg from the carcass. - -As Ricardo caught sight of Sarros he instinctively realized that this -was his mortal enemy; motioning his men to stand back, he approached -the struggling man on tiptoe and thoughtfully possessed himself of the -dictator's pistol, which lay in back of him but not out of reach. -Just as he did so, Sarros, apparently convinced of the futility of -his efforts to free himself, surrendered to fate and commenced rather -pitifully to weep with rage and despair. - -Ricardo watched him for a few seconds, for there was just sufficient of -the blood of his Castilian ancestors still in his veins to render this -sorry spectacle rather an enjoyable one to him. Besides, he was 50 per -cent. Iberian, a race which can hate quite as thoroughly as it can -love, and for a time Ricardo even nourished the thought of still further -indulging his thirst for revenge by pretending to aid Sarros in his -escape! Presently, however, he put the ungenerous thought from him; -seizing the dead horse by the tail, he dragged the carcass off his -enemy's leg, and while Sarros sat up, tailor-fashion, and commenced to -tub the circulation back into the bruised member, Ricardo seated himself -on the rump of the dead horse and appraised his prisoner critically. - -Sarros glanced up, remembered his manners and very heartily and -gracefully thanked his deliverer. - -“It is not a matter for which thanks are due me, Sarros,” Ricardo -replied coldly. “I am Ricardo Luiz Ruey, and I have come back to -Sobrante to pay my father's debt to you. You will remember having forced -the obligation upon me in the cemetery some fifteen years ago.” - -For perhaps ten horrified seconds Sarros stared at Ricardo; then the -dark blood in him came to his defense; his tense pose relaxed; the -fright and despair left his swarthy countenance as if erased with -a moist sponge, leaving him as calmly stoical and indifferent as a -cigarstore Indian. He fumbled in his coat pocket for a gold cigarette -case, selected a cigarette, lighted it and blew smoke at Ricardo. The -jig was up; he knew it; and with admirable nonchalance he declined -to lower his presidential dignity by discussing or considering it. He -realized it would delight his captor to know he dreaded to face the -issue, and it was not a Sarros practice to give aid and comfort to the -enemy. - -“Spunky devil!” Ricardo reflected, forced to admiration despite himself. -Aloud he said: “You know the code of our people, Sarros. An eye for an -eye and a tooth for a tooth.” - -Sarros bowed. “I am at your service,” he replied carelessly. - -“Then at daylight to-morrow morning I shall make settlement.” Ricardo -beckoned his men to approach. “Take this man and confine him under a -double guard in the arsenal,” he ordered. “Present my compliments to -the officer in charge there and tell him it is my wish that a priest be -provided for the prisoner to-night, and that to-morrow morning, at -six o'clock, a detail of six men and a sergeant escort this man to the -cemetery in the rear of the Catedral de la Cruz. I will meet the detail -there and take command of it.” - -Two of Ricardo's imported fighting men stepped to the prisoner's side, -seized him, one by each arm, and lifted him to his feet; supported -between them, he limped away to his doom, while his youthful conqueror -remained seated on the dead horse, his gaze bent upon the ground, his -mind dwelling, not upon his triumph over Sarros but upon the prodigious -proportions of the task before him: the rehabilitation of a nation. -After a while he rose and strolled over toward the gate, where he paused -to note the grim evidences of the final stand of Webster and Don Juan -Cafetéro before passing through the portal.. - -Ricardo had now, for the first time, an opportunity to look around him; -so he halted to realize his homecoming, to thrill with this, the first -real view of the home of his boyhood. The spacious lawn surrounding the -palace had been plowed and scarred with bursting shrapnel from the field -guns captured in the arsenal, although the building itself had been -little damaged, not having sustained a direct hit because of Ricardo's -stringent orders not to use artillery on the palace unless absolutely -necessary to smoke Sarros out. Scattered over the grounds Ricardo -counted some twenty-odd Government soldiers, all wearing that -pathetically flat, crumpled appearance which seems inseparable from -the bodies of men killed in action. The first shrapnel had probably -commenced to drop in the grounds just as a portion of the palace -garrison had been marching out to join the troops fighting at the -cantonment barracks. Evidently the men had scattered like quail, only to -be killed as they ran. - -From this grim scene Ricardo raised his eyes to the palace, the -castellated towers of which, looming through the tufted palms, were -reflecting the setting sun. Over the balustrade of one of the upper -balconies the limp body of a Sarros sharpshooter, picked off from the -street, drooped grotesquely, his arms hanging downward as if in ironical -welcome to the son of Ruey the Beloved. The sight induced in Ricardo a -sense of profound sadness; his Irish imagination awoke; to him that mute -figure seemed to call upon him for pity, for kindness, for forbearance, -for understanding and sympathy. Those outflung arms of the martyred peon -symbolized to Ricardo Ruey the spirit of liberty, shackled and helpless, -calling upon him for deliverance; they brought to his alert mind a -clearer realization of the duty that was his than he had ever had -before. He had a great task to perform, a task inaugurated by his -father, and which Ricardo could not hope to finish in his lifetime. -He must solve the agrarian problem; he must develop the rich natural -resources of his country; he must provide free, compulsory education and -evolve from the ignorance of the peon an intelligence that would built -up that which Sobrante, in common with her sister republics, so woefully -lacked--the great middle class that stands always as a buffer between -the aggression and selfishness of the upper class and the helplessness -and childishness of the lower. - -Ricardo bowed his head. “Help me, O Lord,” he prayed. “Thou hast give -me in Thy wisdom a man's task. Help me that I may not prove unworthy.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII - -|MOTHER JENKS, grown impatient at the lack of news concerning Webster, -left Dolores to her grief in the room across the hall and sought the -open air, for of late she had been experiencing with recurring frequency -a slight feeling of suffocation. She sat down on the broad granite -steps, helped herself to a much-needed “bracer” from her brandy flask -and was gazing pensively at the scene around her when Ricardo came up -the stairs. - -“'Elio!” Mother Jenks saluted him. “W'ere 'ave you been, Mr. Bowers?” - -“I have just returned from capturing Sarros, Mrs. Jenks. He is on his -way to the arsenal under guard.” - -“Gor' strike me pink!” the old lady cried. “'Ave I lived to see this -day!” Her face was wreathed in a happy smile. “I wonder 'ow the beggar -feels to 'ave the shoe on the other foot, eh--the'eartless'ound! -I'm 'opin' this General Ruey will 'ave the blighter shot.” - -“You need have no worry on that score, Mrs. Jenks. I'm General Ruey. -Andrew Bowers was just my summer name, as it were.” - -“Angels guard me! Wot the bloomin' 'ell surprise won't we 'ave next. Wot -branch o' the Ruey tribe do you belong to? Are you a nephew o' him that -was president before Sarros shot 'im? Antonio Ruey, who was 'arf brother -to the president, 'ad a son 'e called Ricardo. Are you 'im, might I -arsk?” - -“I am the son of Ricardo the Beloved,” he answered proudly. - -“Not the lad as was away at school when 'is father was hexecuted?” - -“I am that same lad, Mrs. Jenks. And who are you? You seem to know a -deal of my family history.” - -“I,” the old publican replied with equal pride, “am Mrs. Colonel 'Enery -Jenks, who was your father's chief of hartillery an' 'ad the hextreme -honour o' dyin' in front o' the same wall with 'im. By the w'y, 'ow's -Mr. Webster?” she added, suddenly remembering the subject closest to her -heart just then. - -“His wounds are trifling. He'll live, Mrs. Jenks.” - -“Well, that's better than gettin' poked in the eye with a sharp stick,” - the old dame decided philosophically. - -“Do you remember my little sister, Mrs. Jenks?” Ricardo continued. “She -was in the palace when Sarros attacked it; she perished there.” - -“I believe I 'ave got a slight recollection o' the nipper, sir,” Mother -Jenks answered cautiously. To herself she said: “I s'y, 'Enrietta, -'ere's a pretty go. 'E don't know the lamb is livin' an' in the next -room! My word, wot a riot w'en 'e meets 'er!” - -“I will see you again, Mrs. Jenks. I must have a long talk with you,” - Ricardo told her, and passed on into the palace; whereupon Mother Jenks -once more fervently implored the Almighty to strike her pink, and the -iron restraint of a long, hard, exciting day being relaxed at last, the -good soul bowed her gray head in her arms and wept, moving her body from -side to side the while and demanding, of no one in particular, a single -legitimate reason why she, a blooming old baggage and not fit to live, -should be the recipient of such manifold blessings as this day had -brought forth. - -In the meantime Ricardo, with his hand on the knob of the door leading -to the room where Webster was having his wounds dressed, paused -suddenly, his attention caught by the sound of a sob, long-drawn and -inexpressibly pathetic. He listened and made up his mind that a woman in -the room across the entrance-hall was bewailing the death of a loved -one who answered to the name of Caliph and John darling. Further -eavesdropping convinced him that Caliph, John darling, and Mr. John -Stuart Webster were one and the same person, and so he tilted his head -on one side like a cock-robin and considered. - -“By jingo, that's most interesting,” he decided. “The wounded hero has -a sweetheart or a wife--and an American, too. She must be a recent -acquisition, because all the time we were together on the steamer -coming down here he never spoke of either, despite the fact that we got -friendly enough for such confidences. Something funny about this. I'd -better sound the old boy before I start passing out words of comfort to -that unhappy female.” - -He passed on into the room. John Stuart Webster had, by this time, -been washed and bandaged, and one of the Sarros servants (for the -ex-dictator's retinue still occupied the palace) had, at Doctor -Pacheco's command, prepared a guest-chamber upstairs and furnished a -nightgown of ample proportions to cover Mr. Webster's bebandaged but -otherwise naked person. A stretcher had just arrived, and the wounded -man was about to be carried upstairs. The late financial backer of the -revolution was looking very pale and dispirited; for once in his life -his whimsical, bantering nature was subdued. His eyes were closed, and -he did not open them when Ricardo entered. - -“Well, I have Sarros,” the latter declared. Webster paid not the -slightest attention to this announcement. Ricardo bent over him. “Jack, -old boy,” he queried, “do you know a person of feminine persuasion who -calls you Caliph?” - -John Stuart Webster's eyes and mouth flew wide open. “What the devil!” - he tried to roar. “You haven't been speaking to her, have you? If you -have, I'll never forgive you, because you've spoiled my little surprise -party.” - -“No, I haven't been speaking to her, but she's in the next room crying -fit to break her heart because she thinks you've been killed.” - -“You scoundrel! Aren't you human? Go tell her it's only a couple of -punctures, not a blowout.” He sighed. “Isn't it sweet of her to weep -over an old hunks like me!” he added softly. “Bless her tender heart!” - -“Who is she?” Ricardo was very curious. - -“That's none of your business. You wait and I'll tell you. She's the -guest I told you I was going to bring to dinner, and that's enough for -you to know for the present. _Vaya_, you idiot, and bring her in here, -so I can assure her my head is bloody but unbowed. Doctor, throw -that rug over my shanks and make me look pretty. I'm going to receive -company.” - -His glance, bent steadily on the door, had in it some of the alert, -bright wistfulness frequently to be observed in the eyes of a terrier -standing expectantly before a rat-hole. The instant the door opened and -Dolores's tear-stained face appeared, he called to her with the old-time -camaraderie, for he had erased from his mind, for the nonce, the memory -of the tragedy of poor Don Juan Cafetéro and was concerned solely with -the task of banishing the tears from those brown eyes and bringing the -joy of life back to that sweet face. - -“Hello, Seeress,” he called weakly. “Little Johnny's been fighting -again, and the bad boys gave him an all-fired walloping.” - -There was a swift rustle of skirts, and she was bending over him, her -hot little palms clasping eagerly his pale, rough cheeks. “Oh, my dear, -my dear!” she whispered, and then her voice choked with the happy tears -and she was sobbing on his wounded shoulder. Ricardo stooped to draw her -away, but John Stuart bent upon him a look of such frightfulness that he -drew back abashed. After all, the past twenty-four hours had been quite -exciting, and Ricardo reflected that John's inamorata was tired and -frightened and probably hadn't eaten anything all day long, so there was -ample excuse for her hysteria. - -“Come, come, buck up,” Webster soothed her, and helped himself to a long -whiff of her fragrant hair. “Old man Webster had one leg in the grave, -but they've pulled it out again.” - -Still she sobbed. - -“Now, listen to me, lady,” he commanded with mock severity. “You just -stop that. You're wasting your sympathy; and while, of course, I enjoy -your sympathy a heap, just pause to reflect on the result if those salt -tears should happen to drop into one of my numerous wounds.” - -“I'm so sorry for you, Caliph,” she murmured brokenly. “You poor, -harmless boy! I don't see how any one could be so fiendish as to hurt -you when you were so distinctly a non-combatant.” - -“Thank you. Let us forget the Hague Conference for the present, however. -Have you met your brother?” he whispered. - -“No, Caliph.” - -“Ricardo.” - -“Yes, Jack.” - -“Come here. Rick, you scheming, unscrupulous, bloodthirsty adventurer, -I have a tremendous surprise in store for you. The sweetest girl in the -world--and she's right here----” - -Ricardo laughingly held up his hand. “Jack, my friend,” he interrupted, -“you're too weak to make a speech. Don't do it. Besides, you do not have -to.” He turned and bowed gracefully to Dolores. “I can see for myself -she's the sweetest girl in the world, and that she's right here.” He -held out his hand to her. “Jack thinks he's going to spring a surprise,” - he continued maliciously, “quite forgetting that a good soldier never -permits himself to be taken by surprise. I know all about his little -secret, because I heard you mourning for him when you thought he was -dead.” Ricardo favoured her with a knowing wink. “I am delighted to meet -the future Mrs. Webster. I quite understand why you fell in love with -him, because, you see, I love him myself and do does everybody else.” - -With typical Castilian courtliness he took her hand, bowed low over it, -and kissed it. “I am Ricardo Luiz Ruey,” he said, anxious to spare his -friend the task of further exhausting conversation. “And you are----” - -“You're a consummate jackass!” groaned Webster. “I'm only a dear old -family friend, and Dolores is going to marry Billy Geary. You impetuous -idiot! She's your own sister Dolores Ruey. She, Mark Twain, and I have -ample cause for common complaint against the world because the reports -of our death have been grossly exaggerated. She didn't perish when -your father's administration crumbled. Miss Ruey, this is your brother -Ricardo. Kiss her you damn' fool--forgive me, Miss Ruey--oh, Lord, -nothing matters any more. He's gummed everything up and ruined my party. -I wish I were dead.” - -Ricardo stared from the outraged Webster to his sister and back again. - -“Jack Webster,” he declared, “you aren't crazy, are you?” - -“Of course he is--the old dear,” Dolores cried happily, “but I'm not.” - She stepped up to her brother, and her arms went around his neck. “Oh, -Rick,” she cried, “I'm your sister. Truly, I am.” - -“Dolores. My little lost sister Dolores? Why, I can't believe it!” - -“Well, you'd better believe it,” John Stuart Webster growled feebly. “Of -course, you can doubt my word and get away with it, now that I'm flat on -my back, but if you dare cast aspersions on that girl's veracity, I'll -murder you a month from now.” - -He closed his eyes, feeling instinctively that he ought not spy on such -a sacred family scene. When, however, the affecting meeting was over and -Dolores was ruffling the Websterian foretop while her brother pressed -the Websterian hand and tried to say all the things he felt but couldn't -express, John Stuart Webster brought them both back to a realization of -present conditions. - -“Don't thank me, sir,” he piped in pathetic imitation of the small boy -of melodrama. “I have only done me duty, and for that I cannot accept -this purse of gold, even though my father and mother are starving.” - -“Oh, Caliph, do be serious,” Dolores pleaded. - -He looked up at her fondly. “Take your brother out to Mother Jenks and -prove your case, Miss Ruey,” he advised her. “And while you're at it, I -certainly hope somebody will remember I'm not accustomed to reposing on -a centre table. Rick, if you can persuade some citizen of this conquered -commonwealth to put me to bed, I'd be obliged. I'm dead tired, old -horse. I'm--ah--sleepy----” - -His head rolled weakly to one side, for he had been playing a part -and had nerved himself to finish it gracefully, even in his weakened -condition. He sighed, moaned slightly, and slipped into unconsciousness. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX - -|THROUGHOUT the night there was sporadic firing here and there in -the city, as the Ruey followers relentlessly hunted down the isolated -detachment of Government troops which had escaped annihilation and -capture in the final rout and fallen back on the city, where, concealing -themselves according to their nature and inclination, they indulged -in more or less sniping from windows and the roofs of buildings. The -practice of taking no prisoners was an old one in Sobrante, and few -presidents had done more than Sarros to keep that custom alive; ergo, -firm in the conviction that to surrender was tantamount to facing -a firing squad at daylight, the majority of these stragglers, with -consummate courage, fought to the death. - -The capture of Buenaventura was alone sufficient to insure a brief -revolution, but the capture of Sarros was ample guarantee that the -resistance to the new order of things was already at an end. However, -Ricardo Ruey felt that the prompt execution of Sarros would be an added -guarantee of peace by effectually discouraging any opposition to the -rebel cause in the outlying districts, where a few isolated garrisons -still remained in ignorance of the momentous events being enacted in -the capital. For the time being, Ricardo was master of life and death in -Sobrante, and all of his advisers and supporters agreed with him that a -so-called trial of the ex-dictator would be a rather useless affair. -His life was forfeit a hundred times for murder and treason, and to be -ponderous over his elimination would savour of mockery. Accordingly, -at midnight, a priest entered the room in the arsenal where Sarros was -confined, and shrived him. Throughout the night the priest remained with -him, and when that early morning march to the cemetery commenced, he -walked beside Sarros, repeating the prayers for the dying. - -Upon reaching the cemetery there was a slight wait until a carriage -drove up and discharged Ricardo Ruey and Mother Jenks. The sergeant in -command of the squad saluted and was briefly ordered to proceed with the -matter in hand; whereupon he turned to Sarros, who with the customary -_sang froid_ of his kind upon such occasions was calmly smoking, and -bowed deprecatingly. Sarros actually smiled upon him. “_Adios, amigos_” - he murmured. Then, as an afterthought and probably because he was -sufficient of an egoist to desire to appear a martyr, he added -heroically: “I die for my country. May God have mercy on my enemies.” - -“If you'd cared to play a gentleman's game, you blighter, you might 'ave -lived for your bally country,” Mother Jenks reminded him in English. -“Wonder if the beggar 'll wilt or will 'e go through smilin' like my -sainted 'Enery on the syme spot.” - -She need not have worried. It requires a strong man to be dictator of -a Roman-candle republic for fifteen years, and whatever his sins of -omission or commission, Sarros did not lack animal courage. Alone and -unattended he limped away among the graves to the wall on the other -side of the cemetery and placed his back against it, negligently in -the attitude of a devil-may-care fellow without a worry in life. The -sergeant waited respectfully until Sarros had finished his cigarette; -when he tossed it away and straightened to attention, the sergeant knew -he was ready to die. At his command there was a sudden rattle of bolts -as the cartridges slid from the magazines into the breeches; there -followed a momentary halt, another command; the squad was aiming when -Ricardo Ruey called sharply: - -“Sergeant, do not give the order to fire.” - -The rifles were lowered and the men gazed wonderingly at Ricardo. “He's -too brave,” Ricardo complained. “Damn him, I can't kill him as I would -a mad-dog. I've got to give him a chance.” The sergeant raised his brows -expressively. Ah, the _ley fuga_, that popular form of execution where -the prisoner is given a running chance, and the firing-squad practises -wing shooting If the prisoner manages, miraculously, to escape, he is -not pursued! - -A doubt, however, crossed the sergeant's mind. “But, my general,” he -expostulated, “Senor Sarros cannot accept the _ley fuga_. He is very -lame. That is not giving him the chance your Excellency desires he -should have.” - -“I wasn't thinking of that,” Ricardo replied. “I was thinking I'm -killing him without a fair trial for the reason that he's so infernally -ripe for the gallows that a trial would have been a joke. Nevertheless, -I am really killing him because he killed my father--and that is -scarcely fair. My father was a gentleman. Sergeant, is your pistol -loaded?” - -“Yes, General.” - -“Give it to Senor Sarros.” - -As the sergeant started forward to comply Ricardo drew his own service -revolver and then motioned Mother Jenks and the firing-squad to stand -aside while he crossed to the centre of the cemetery. “Sarros,” he -called, “I am going to let God decide which one of us shall live. When -the sergeant gives the command to fire, I shall open fire on you, and -you are free to do the same to me. Sergeant, if he kills me and escapes -unhurt, my orders are to escort him to the bay in my carriage and put -him safely aboard the steamer.” - -Mother Jenks sat down on a tombstone. “Gord's truth!” she gasped, “but -there's a rare plucked 'un.” Aloud she croaked: “Don't be a bally ass, -sir.” - -“Silence!” he commanded. - -The sergeant handed Sarros the revolver. “You heard what I said?” - Ricardo called. - -Sarros bowed gravely. - -“You understand your orders, Sergeant?” - -“Yes, General.” - -“Very well. Proceed. If this prisoner fires before you give the word, -have your squad riddle him.” The sergeant backed away and gazed owlishly -from the prisoner to his captor. “Ready!” he called. Both revolvers -came up. “Fire!” he shouted, and the two shots were discharged -simultaneously. Ricardo's cap flew off his head, but he remained -standing, while Sarros staggered back against the wall and there -recovering himself gamely, fired again. He scored a clean miss, and -Ricardo's gun barked three times; Sarros sprawled on his face, rose -to his knees, raised his pistol halfway, fired into the sky and slid -forward on his face. Ricardo stood beside the body until the sergeant -approached and stood to attention, his attitude saying: - -“It is over. What next, General?” - -“Take the squad back to the arsenal, Sergeant,” Ricardo ordered him -coolly, and walked back to recover his uniform cap. He was smiling as he -ran his finger through a gaping hole in the upper half of the crown. - -“Well, Mrs. Jenks,” he announced when he rejoined the old lady, “that -was better than executing him with a firing-squad. I gave him a square -deal. Now his friends can never say that I murdered him.” He extended -his hand to help Mother Jenks to her feet. She stood erect and felt -again that queer swelling of the heart, the old feeling of suffocation. - -“Steady, lass!” she mumbled. “'Old on to me, sir. It's my bally -haneurism. Gor'--I'm--chokin'----” - -He caught her in his arms as she lurched toward him. Her face was -purple, and in her eyes there was a queer fierce light that went out -suddenly, leaving them dull and glazed. When she commenced to sag in his -arms, he eased her gently to the ground and laid her on her back in the -grass. - -“The nipper's safe, 'Enery,” he heard her murmur. “I've raised 'er a -lydy, s'elp me--she's back where--you found 'er-- 'Enery----” - -She quivered, and the light came creeping back into her eyes before it -faded forever. “Comin', 'Enery--darlin',” she whispered; and then the -soul of Mother Jenks, who had a code and lived up to it (which is more -than the majority of us do), had departed upon the ultimate journey. -Ricardo gazed down on the hard old mouth, softened now by a little -half-smile of mingled yearning and gladness: “What a wonderful soul you -had,” he murmured, and kissed her. - -In the end she slept in the niche in the wall of the Catedral de la Vera -Cruz, beside her sainted 'Enery. - - - - -CHAPTER XXX - -|THREE days passed. Don Juan Cafetéro had been buried with all the pomp -and circumstance of a national hero; Mother Jenks, too, had gone to -her appointed resting-place, and El Buen Amigo had been closed forever. -Ricardo had issued a proclamation announcing himself provisional -president of Sobrante; a convention of revolutionary leaders had -been held, and a provisional cabinet selected. A day for the national -elections had been named; the wreckage of the brief revolution had been -cleared away, and the wheels of government were once more revolving -freely and noiselessly. And while all of this had been going on, John -Stuart Webster had lain on his back, staring at the palace ceiling and -absolutely forbidden to receive visitors. He was still engaged in this -mild form of gymnastics on the third day when the door of his room -opened and Dolores looked in on him. - -“Good evening, Caliph,” she called. “Aren't you dead yet?” - -It was exactly the tone she should have adopted to get the best results, -for Webster had been mentally and physically ill since she had seen him -last, and needed some such pleasantry as this to lift him out of his -gloomy mood. He grinned at her boyishly. - -“No, I'm not dead. On the contrary, I'm feeling real chirpy. Won't you -come in and visit for a while, Miss Ruey?” - -“Well, since you've invited me, I shall accept.” Entering, she stood -beside his bed and took the hand he extended toward Her. “This is the -first opportunity I've had, Miss Ruey,” he began, “to apologize for -the shock I gave you the other day. I should have come back to you as I -promised, instead of getting into a fight and scaring you half to -death. I hope you'll forgive me, because I'm paying for my fun now--with -interest.” - -“Very well, Caliph. I'll forgive you--on one condition.” - -“Who am I to resist having a condition imposed upon me? Name your terms. -I shall obey.” - -“I'm weary of being called Miss Ruey. I want to be Dolores--to you.” - -“By the toenails of Moses,” he reflected, “there is no escape. She's -determined to rock the boat.” Aloud he said: “All right, Dolores. I -suppose I may as well take the license of the old family friend. I guess -Bill won't mind.” - -“Billy hasn't a word to say about it,” she retorted, regarding him with -that calm, impersonal, yet vitally interested look that always drove him -frantic with the desire for her. - -“Well, of course, I understand that,” he countered. “Naturally, since -Bill is only a man, you'll have to manage him and he'll have to take -orders.” - -“Caliph, you're a singularly persistent man, once you get an idea into -your head. Please understand me, once for all: Billy Geary is a dear, -and it's a mystery to me why every girl in the world isn't perfectly -crazy about him, but every rule has its exceptions--and Billy and I are -just good friends. I'd like to know where you got the idea we're engaged -to be married.” - -“Why--why--well, aren't you?” - -“Certainly not.” - -“Well, you--er--you ought to be. I expected--that is, I planned--I -mean Bill told me and--and--and--er--it never occurred to me you could -possibly have the--er--crust--to refuse him. Of course you're going to -marry him when he asks you?” - -“Of course I am not.” - -“Ah-h-h-h!” John Stuart Webster gazed at her in frank amazement. “Not -going to marry Bill Geary!” he cried, highly scandalized. - -“I know you think I ought to, and I suppose it will appear quite -incomprehensible to you when I do not----” - -“Why, Dolores, my dear girl! This is most amazing. Didn't Bill ask you -to marry him before he left?” - -“Yes, he did me that honour, and I declined him.” - -“You _what!_” - -She smiled at him so maternally that his hand itched to drag her down to -him and kiss her curving lips. - -“Do you mind telling me just why you took this extraordinary attitude?” - -“You have no right to ask, but I'll tell you. I refused Billy because I -didn't love him enough--that way. What's more, I never could.” - -He rolled his head to one side and softly, very softly, whistled -two bars of “The Spanish Cavalier” through his teeth He was properly -thunder-struck--so much so, in fact, that for a moment he actually -forgot her presence the while he pondered this most incredible state of -affairs. - -“I see it all now. It's as clear as mud,” he announced finally. “You -refused poor old Bill and broke his heart, and so he went away and -hasn't had the courage to write me since. I'm afraid Bill and I both -regarded this fight as practically won--all over but the wedding-march, -as one might put it. I might as well confess I hustled the boy down -from the mine just so you two could get married and light out on your -honeymoon I figured Bill could kill two birds with one stone--have his -honeymoon and get rid of his malaria, and return here in three or four -months to relieve me, after I had the mine in operation. Poor boy. That -was a frightful song-and-dance you gave him.” - -“I suspected you were the matchmaker in this case. I must say I think -you're old enough to know better, Caliph John.” - -“You did, eh? Well, what made you think so?” - -She chuckled. “Oh, you're very obvious--to a woman.” - -“I forgot that you reveal the past and foretell the future.” - -“You are really very clumsy, Caliph. You should never try to direct the -destiny of any woman.” - -“I'm on the sick list,” he pleaded, “and it isn't sporting of you to -discuss me. You're healthy--so let us discuss you. Dolores, do you -figure Bill's case to be absolutely hopeless?” - -“Absolutely, Caliph.” - -“Hum-m-m!” - -Again Webster had recourse to meditation, seeing which, Dolores walked -to the pier-glass in the corner, satisfied herself that her coiffure was -just so and returned to his side, singing softly a little song that had -floated out over the transom of Webster's room door into the hall one -night: - - A Spanish cavalier, - - Went out to rope a steer, - - Along with his paper _cigar-r-ro!_ - - ”_Caramba!_” said he. - - ”_Manana_ you will be - - _Muchù bueno carne por mio_“ - -He turned his head and looked up at her suddenly, searchingly. “Is -there anybody else in Bill's way?” he demanded. “I admit it's none of my -business, but-------” - -“Yes, Caliph, there is some one else.” - -“I thought so.” This rather viciously. “I'm willing to gamble a hundred -to one, sight unseen, that whoever he is, he isn't half the man Bill -is.” - -“That,” she replied coldly, “is a matter of personal opinion.” - -“And Bill's clock is fixed for keeps?' - -“Yes, Caliph. And he never had a chance from the start.” - -“Why not?” - -“Well, I met the other man first, Caliph.” - -“Oh! Do you mind telling me what this other man does for a living?” - -“He's a mining man, like Billy.” - -“All right! Has the son of a horsethief got a mine like Bill's? That's -something to consider, Dolores.” - -“He has a mine fully as good as Billy's. Like Billy, he owns a half -interest in it, too.” - -“Hum-m-m! How long have you known him?” - -“Not very long.” - -“Be sure you're right--then go ahead,” John Stuart Webster warned her. -“Don't marry in haste and repent at leisure, Dolores. Know your man -before you let him buy the wedding ring. There's a heap of difference, -my dear, between sentiment and sentimentality.” - -“I'm sure of my man, Caliph.” - -He was silent again, thinking rapidly. “Well, of course,” he began again -presently, “while there was the slightest possibility of Bill winning -you, I would have died before saying that which I am about to say to you -now, Dolores, because Bill is my friend, and I'd never double-cross -him. With reference to this other man, however, I have no such code to -consider. I'm pretty well convinced I'm out of the running, but I'll -give that lad a race if it's the last act of my life. He's a stranger -to me, and he isn't on the job to protect his claim, so why shouldn't I -stake it if I can? But are you quite certain you aren't making a grave -mistake in refusing Billy? He's quite a boy, my dear. I know him from -soul to suspenders, and he'd be awfully good to you. He's kind and -gentle and considerate, and he's not a mollycoddle, either.” - -“I can't help it, Caliph. Please don't talk about him any more. I know -somebody who is kinder and nobler and gentler.” She ceased abruptly, -fearful of breaking down her reserve and saying too much. - -“Well, if Bill's case is hopeless”--his hand came groping for hers, -while he held her with his searching, wistful glance--“I wonder what -mine looks like. That is, Dolores, I--I----' - -“Yes, John?” - -“I've played fair with my friend,” he whispered eagerly. “I'm not going -to ask you to marry me, but I want to tell you that to me you're such -a very wonderful woman I can't help loving you with my whole heart and -soul.' - -“I have suspected this, John,” she replied gravely. - -“I suppose so. I'm such an obvious old fool. I've had my dream, and I've -put it behind me, but I--I just want you to know I love you; so long as -I live, I shall want to serve you when you're married to this other man, -and things do not break just right for you both--if I have something he -wants, in order to make you happy, I want you to know it's yours to give -to him. I--I--I guess that's all, Dolores.” - -“Thank you, John. Would you like to know this man I'm going to marry?” - -“Yes, I think I'd like to congratulate the scoundrel.” - -“Then I'll introduce you to him, John. I first met him on a train in -Death Valley, California. He was a shaggy old dear, all whiskers and -rags, but his whiskers couldn't hide his smile, and his rags couldn't -hide his manhood, and when he thrashed a drummer because the man annoyed -me, I just couldn't help falling in love with him. Even when he fibbed -to me and disputed my assertion that we had met before----” - -“Good land of love--and the calves got loose!” he almost shouted as he -held up his one sound arm to her. “My dear, my dear----” - -“Oh, sweetheart,” she whispered laying her hot cheek against his, “it's -taken you so long to say it, but I love you all the more for the dear -thoughts that made you hesitate.” - -He was silent a few moments, digesting his amazement, speechless with -the great happiness that was his--and then Dolores was kissing the back -of the hand of that helpless, bandaged arm lying across his breast. He -had a tightening in his throat, for he had not expected love; and that -sweet, benignant, humble little kiss spelled adoration and eternal -surrender; when she looked at him again the mists of joy were in his -eyes. - -“Dear old Caliph John!” she crooned. “He's never had a woman to -understand his funny ways and appreciate them and take care of him, has -he?” She patted his cheek. “And bless his simple old heart, he would -rather give up his love than be false to his friend. Yes, indeed. Johnny -Webster respects 'No Shooting' signs when he sees them, but he tells -fibs and pretends to be very stupid when he really isn't. So you -wouldn't be false to Billy--eh, dear? I'm glad to know that, because the -man who cannot be false to his friend can never be false to his wife.” - -He crushed her down to him and held her there for a long time. “My -dear,” he said presently, “isn't there something you have to say to me?” - -“I love you, John,” she whispered, and sealed the sweet confession with -a true lover's kiss. - -“All's well with the world,” John Stuart Webster announced when he could -use his lips once more for conversation. “And,” he added, “owing to the -fact that I started a trifle late in life, I believe I could stand a -little more of the same.” - -The door opened and Ricardo looked in on them. “Killjoy!” Webster -growled. “Old Killjoy the Thirteenth, King of Sobrante. Is this a -surprise to you?” - -“Not a bit of it, Jack. I knew it was due.” - -“Am I welcome in the Ruey family?” - -Ricardo came over and kissed his sister. “Don't be a lobster, Jack,” he -protested. “I dislike foolish questions.” And he pressed his friend's -hand with a fervour that testified to his pleasure. - -“I'm sorry to crowd in at a time like this, Jack,” he continued, with a -hug for Dolores, “but Mr. What-you-may-call-him, the American consul, -has called to pay his respects. As a fellow-citizen of yours, he is -vitally interested in your welfare. Would you care to receive him for a -few minutes?” - -“One minute will do,” Webster declared with emphasis. “Show the human -slug up, Rick.” - -Mr. Lemuel Tolliver tripped breezily in with outstretched hand. “My -dear Mr. Webster,” he began, but Webster cut him short with a peremptory -gesture. - -“Listen, friend Tolliver,” he said. “The only reason I received you was -to tell you I'm going to remain in this country awhile and help develop -it. I may even conclude to grow up with it. I shall not, of course, -renounce my American citizenship; and of course, as an American citizen, -I am naturally interested in the man my country sends to Sobrante to -represent it. I might as well be frank and tell you that you won't do. -I called on you once to do your duty, and you weren't there; I told you -then I might have something to say about your job later on, and now I'm -due to say it. Mr. Tolliver, I'm the power behind the throne in this -little Jim-crow country, and to quote your own elegant phraseology, -you, as American consul, are _nux vomica_ to the Sobrantean government. -Moreover, as soon as the Sobrantean ambassador reaches Washington, he's -going to tell the President that you are, and then the President will -be courteous enough to remove you. In the meantime, fare thee well, Mr. -Consul.” - -“But, Mr. Webster----” - -“_Vaya!_” - -Mr. Tolliver, appreciating the utter futility of argument, bowed and -departed. - -“Verily, life grows sweeter with each passing day,” Webster murmured -whimsically. “Rick, old man, I think you had better escort the Consul to -the front door. Your presence is _nux vomica_ to me also. See that you -back me up and dispose of that fellow Tolliver, or you can't come to our -wedding--can he, sweetheart?” - -When Ricardo had taken his departure, laughing, John Stuart Webster -looked up quite seriously at his wife-to-be. “Can you explain to me, -Dolores,” he asked, “how it happened that your relatives and your -father's old friends here in Sobrante, whom you met shortly after your -arrival, never informed you that Ricardo was living?” - -“They didn't know any more about him than I did, and he left here as -a mere boy. He was scarcely acquainted with his relatives, all of -whom bowed quite submissively to the Sarros yoke. Indeed, my father's -half-brother, Antonio Ruey, actually accepted a portfolio under the -Sarros régime and held it up to his death. Ricardo has a wholesome -contempt for his relatives, and as for his father's old friends, none -of them knew anything about his plans. Apparently his identity was -known only to the Sarros intelligence bureau, and it did not permit the -information to leak out.” - -“Funny mix-up,” he commented. “And by the way, where did you get all the -inside dope about Neddy Jerome?” - -She laughed and related to him the details of Neddy's perfidy. - -“And you actually agreed to deliver me, hog-tied and helpless to that -old schemer, Dolores?” - -“Why not, dear. I loved you; I always meant to marry you, if you'd let -me; and ten thousand dollars would have lasted me for pin money a long -time.” - -“Well, you and Neddy have both lost out. Better send the old pelican a -cable and wake him out of his day-dream.” - -“I sent the cable yesterday, John dear.” - -“Extraordinary woman!” - -“I've just received an answer. Neddy has spent nearly fifty dollars -telling me by cable what a fine man you are and how thankful I ought to -be to the good Lord for permitting you to marry me.” - -“Dolores, you are perfectly amazing. I only proposed to you a minute -ago.” - -“I know you did, slow-poke, but that is not your fault. You would have -proposed to me yesterday, only I thought best not to disturb you until -you were a little stronger. This evening, however, I made up my mind to -settle the matter, and so I----” - -“But suppose I hadn't proposed to you, after all?” - -“Then, John, I should have proposed to you, I fear.” - -“But you were running an awful risk, sending that telegram to Neddy -Jerome.” - -She took one large red ear in each little hand and shook his head -lovingly. “Silly,” she whispered, “don't be a goose. I knew you loved -me; I would have known it, even if Neddy Jerome hadn't told me so. So I -played a safe game all the way through, and oh, dear Caliph John, I'm so -happy I could cry.” - -“God bless my mildewed soul,” John Stuart Webster murmured helplessly. -The entire matter was quite beyond his comprehension! - -THE END - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Webster--Man's Man, by Peter B. 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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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Webster--Man's Man - -Author: Peter B. Kyne - -Illustrator: Dean Cornwell - -Release Date: May 3, 2016 [EBook #51987] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WEBSTER--MAN'S MAN *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - - - - - - -WEBSTER--MAN'S MAN - -By Peter B. Kyne - -Author Of "Cappy Ricks" - -"The Three Godfathers," Etc. - -Illustrated By Dean Cornwell - -[Illustration: 0006] - -[Illustration: 0007] - -New York - -Doubleday, Page & Company - -1917 - - - - - -WEBSTER-MAN'S MAN - - - - -CHAPTER I - -|WHEN John Stuart Webster, mining engineer and kicker-up-of-dust on -distant trails, flagged the S. P., L. A. & S. L. Limited at a blistered -board station in Death Valley, California, he had definitely resolved to -do certain things. To begin, he would invade the dining car at the first -call to dinner and order approximately twenty dollars' worth of ham and -eggs, which provender is, as all who know will certify, the pinnacle of -epicurean delight to an old sour-dough coming out of the wilderness with -a healthy bankroll and a healthier appetite; for even as the hydrophobic -dog avoids water, so does the adventurer of the Webster type avoid -the weird concoctions of high-priced French chefs until he has first -satisfied that void which yawns to receive ham and eggs. - -Following the ham and eggs, Mr. Webster planned to saturate himself from -soul to vermiform appendix with nicotine, which he purposed obtaining -from tobacco with nicotine in it. It was a week since he had smoked -anything, and months since he had tasted anything with an odour even -remotely like tobacco, for the August temperature in Death Valley is no -respecter of moisture in any man or his tobacco. By reason of the fact -that he had not always dwelt in Death Valley, however, John Stuart -Webster knew the dining-car steward would have in the ice chest some -wonderful cigars, wonderfully preserved. - -Webster realized that, having sampled civilization thus far, his debauch -would be at an end until he reached Salt Lake City-unless, indeed, he -should find aboard the train something fit to read or somebody worth -talking to. Upon arrival in Salt Lake City, however, his spree would -really begin. Immediately upon leaving the train he would proceed to -a clothing shop and purchase a twenty-five-dollar ready-to-wear suit, -together with the appurtenances thereunto pertaining or in any wise -belonging. These habiliments he would wear just long enough to shop in -respectably and without attracting the attention of the passing throng; -and when later his "tailor-mades" and sundry other finery should be -delivered, he would send the store clothes to one Ubehebe Henry, a -prospector down in the Mojave country, who would appreciate them and -wear them when he came to town in the fall to get drunk. - -Having arranged for the delivery of his temporary attire at the best -hotel in town, Webster designed chartering a taxicab and proceeding -forthwith to that hotel, where he would engage a sunny room with a bath, -fill the bathtub, climb blithely in and soak for two hours at least, -for it was nearly eight months since he had had a regular bath and he -purposed making the most of his opportunity. His long-drawn ablutions at -length over, he would don a silken dressing gown and slippers, order up -a barber, and proceed to part with enough hair and whiskers to upholster -an automobile; and upon the completion of his tonsorial adventures he -would encase his person in a suit of mauve-coloured silk pajamas, climb -into bed and stay there for forty-eight hours, merely waking long enough -to take another bath, order up periodical consignments of ham and -eggs and, incidentally, make certain that a friendly side-winder or -chuck-walla hadn't crawled under the blankets with him. - -So much for John Stuart Webster's plans. Now for the gentleman himself. -No one--not even the Pullman porter, shrewd judge of mankind that he -was--could have discerned in the chrysalis that flagged the Limited -the butterfly of fashion that was to be. As the ebony George raised -the vestibule platform, opened the car door and looked out, he had no -confidence in the lean, sun-baked big man standing by the train. Plainly -the fellow was not a first-class passenger but a wandering prospector, -for he was dog-dirty, a ruin of rags and hairy as a tarantula. The only -clean thing about him was a heavy-calibred automatic pistol of the army -type, swinging at his hip. - -"Day coach an' tourist up in front," the knight of the whiskbroom -announced in disapproving tones and started to close down the platform. - -"So I perceived," John Stuart Webster replied blandly. "I also observed -that you failed to employ the title _sir_ when addressing a white man. -Put that platform back and hop out here with your little stool, you -saddle-coloured son of Senegambia, or I'll make you a hard porter to -catch." - -"Yassah, yassah!" the porter sputtered, and obeyed instantly. Mr. -Webster handed him a disreputable-looking suitcase and stepped aboard -in state, only to be informed by the sleeping-car conductor that there -wasn't a vacant first-class berth on the train. - -"Yes, I know I'm dirty," the late arrival announced cheerfully, "but -still, as Bobby Burns once remarked, 'a man's a man for a' that'--and -I'm _not_ unsanitary. I sloshed around some in Furnace Creek the night -before last, and while of course I got the top layer off, still, a -fellow can't accomplish a great deal without hot water, soap, a good -scrubbing-brush and a can of lye." - -"I'm very sorry," the conductor replied perfunctorily and endeavoured to -pass on, but Webster secured a firm grip on his lapel and frustrated the -escape. - -"You're not sorry," the ragged wanderer declared, "not one little bit. -You're only apprehensive. However, you needn't be. There is no wild -life on me, brother, I assure you. If you can prove it, I'll give you -a thousand-dollar bill for each and every bit of testimony you can -adduce." - -"But I tell you, the train is full up. You'll have to roost in the -daycoach or the tourist. I'm very sorry----" - -"So am I, for I know what daycoaches and tourist-cars smell like in the -middle of August, because, as the poet says, I've been there many a -time and oft.' Nevertheless, despite your deep grief, something tells me -you're spoofing, so while I must, of necessity, accept your suggestion, -said acceptance will be but temporary. In about two hours, young fellow, -you're going to make the alarming discovery that you have bats in your -belfry." And with a whiskery grin which, under the circumstances, was -charming in its absolute freedom from malice, Mr. Webster departed for -the daycoach. - -Two hours later the conductor found him in the aforementioned daycoach, -engaged in a mild game of poker with a mule-skinner, a Chinaman, an aged -prospector, and a half-breed Indian, and waited until Mr. Webster, on a -bob-tailed club flush, bluffed the Chinaman out of a dollar-and-a-half -pot. - -"Maud, Lily, and Kate!" Webster murmured, as the Celestial laid down -three queens and watched his ragged opponent rake in the pot. "Had I -held those three queens and had you made a two-card draw as I did, only -death could have stopped me from seeing what you held! Hello! Here's -Little Boy Blue again. All right, son. Blow your horn." - -"Are you Mr. John S. Webster?" - -"Your assumption that I am that person is so eminently correct that -it would be a waste of time for me to dispute it," Webster replied -quizzically. "However, just to prove that you're not the only -clairvoyant on this train, I'm going to tell _you_ something about -_yourself_. In your pocket you have a telegram; it is from -Chicago, where your pay-check originates; it is a short, sweet, and -comprehensive, containing an order which you are going to obey. It reads -somewhat as follows: - -"'My friend, John S. Webster, wires me from Blank that he boarded train -at Blank and was refused first-class accommodation because he looked -like a hobo. Give him the best you have in stock, if you have to throw -somebody off the train to accommodate him. Unless you see your way clear -to heed this suggestion your resignation is not only in order but has -already been accepted.' Signed, 'Sweeney.' - -"Do I hit the target?" - -The conductor nodded. "You win, Mr. Webster," he admitted. - -"Occasionally I lose, old-timer. Well?" - -"Who the devil is Sweeney?" - -John Stuart Webster turned to his cosmopolitan comrades of the national -game. "Listen to him," he entreated them. "He has worked for the -company, lo, these many years, and he doesn't know who Sweeney is?" He -eyed the conductor severely. "Sweeney," he declared, "is the man who -is responsible for the whichness of the why-for. Ignorance of the man -higher up excuses no sleeping-car conductor, and if your job is gone -when you reach Salt Lake, old-timer, don't blame it on me, but rather -on your distressing propensity to ask foolish questions. _Vamos, amigo_, -and leave me to my despair. Can't you see I'm happy here?" - -"No offense, Mr. Webster, no offense. I can let you have a -stateroom----" - -"That's trading talk. I'll take it." - -The conductor gave him his receipt and led him back to the stateroom in -the observation-car. At the door Webster handed him a five-dollar bill. -"For you, son," he said gently, "just to take the sting out of what I'm -about to tell you. Now that I possess your receipt and know that ten men -and a boy cannot take it away from me, I'm going to tell you who Sweeney -is." - -"Who is he?" the conductor queried. Already he suspected he had been -outgeneralled. - -"Sweeney," said Mr. Webster, "is the chief clerk in one of Chicago's -most pretentious hotels and a young man who can find all the angles of a -situation without working it out in logarithms. I wired him the details -of my predicament; he heard the Macedonian cry and kicked in. Neat, is -it not?" - -The conductor grinned. "I hate to take your money," he declared. - -"Don't. Just at present I'm very flush. Yes, sir, I'm as prosperous as -a yearling burro up to his ears in alfalfa, and the only use I have ever -found for money is to make other people happy with it, thereby getting -some enjoyment out of it myself. Just as soon as I get a little chunk -together, some smarter man than I takes it all away from me again--so -the cleaning process might just as well start here. When I'm broke I'll -make some more." - -"How?" - -"By remembering that all a man needs in this world, in order to excel, -is about two per cent, more courage than a jack-rabbit; also that an -ounce of promotion in a world of boobs is worth a ton of perspiration. -Thank you for falling for my bluff." - -And having wotted the which, Mr. Webster retired to his hard-won -sanctuary, where he removed as much alkali and perspiration as he could, -carded his long hair and whiskers, manicured his finger nails with a -jack-knife, changed his shirt, provided five minutes of industry for -George, with his whiskbroom and brush, and set himself patiently to -await the first call to dinner. - -The better to hear the dinner call Webster left his stateroom door open, -and presently a pink-jowled, well-curried, flashily dressed big man, of -about Webster's age, passed in the corridor, going toward the head of -the train. An instant later a woman's voice said very distinctly: - -"I do not know you, sir; I do not wish to know you, and it is loathsome -of you to persist in addressing me. If you do not stop your annoying -attentions, I shall call the conductor." - -"Ah! Beauty in distress," John Stuart Webster soliloquized. "I look so -much like an Angora goat I might as well butt in." He stepped to the -door of his stateroom. A girl stood in the vestibule, confronting the -man who had just passed Webster's door. Webster bowed. - -"Madame, or mademoiselle, as the case may be," he said, "unlike this -other male biped, my sole purpose in presuming to address you is to -suggest that there is not the slightest necessity for taking this matter -up with the conductor. I am here and very much at your service." - -The girl turned--and John Stuart Webster's heart flopped twice in rapid -succession, like a trout newly grassed. She was as lovely as a royal -flush. Her starry glance began at his miner's boots, travelled up his -old, soiled, whipcord trousers, over his light blue chambray shirt -and found the man behind the whiskers. She favoured him with a quick, -curious scrutiny and a grave, sweet smile. "Thank you so much, sir," she -answered, and passed down the corridor to the observation-car. - -"Well, old-timer," Webster greeted the fellow who had been annoying -her, "how about you? What do you think we ought to do about this little -affair?" - -"The sensible thing would be to do--nothing." - -"Nothing?" - -"Nothing." - -"Why?" - -"You might start something you couldn't finish." - -"That's a dare," Webster declared brightly, "and wasn't it the immortal -_Huckleberry Finn_ who remarked that anybody that'd take a dare would -suck eggs and steal sheep?" He caressed his beard meditatively. "They -say the good Lord made man to His own image and likeness. I take it -those were only the specifications for the building complete--the -painting and interior decorating, not to mention the furnishings, being -let to a sub-contractor." He was silent a few seconds, appraising his -man. "I suppose you commenced operations by moving into her section and -asking if she would like to have the window open and enjoy the fresh -air. Of course if she had wanted the window open, she would have called -the porter. She rebuffed you, but being a persistent devil, you followed -her into the observation-car, and in all probability you ogled her at -luncheon and ruined her appetite. And just now, when you met her in -this vestibule, you doubtless jostled her, begged her pardon and -without waiting to be introduced asked her to have dinner with you this -evening." - -"Well?" the fellow echoed belligerently. - -"It's all bad form. You shouldn't try to make a mash on a lady. I don't -know who she is, of course, but she's not common; she's travelling -without a chaperon, I take it, and for the sake of the mother that bore -me I always respect and protect a good woman and whale hell out of those -that do not." - -He reached inside his stateroom and pressed the bell. The porter arrived -on the run. - -"George," said Mr. Webster, "in a few minutes we're due at Smithville. -If my memory serves me aright, we stop five minutes for water and -orders." - -"Yassah." - -"Remain right here and let me off as soon as the train comes to a stop." - -When the train slid to a grinding halt and the porter opened the car -door, Webster pointed. - -"Out!" he said. "This is no nice place to pull off a scrap." - -"See here, neighbour, I don't want to have any trouble with you----" - -"I know it. All the same, you're going to have it--or come with me to -that young lady and beg her pardon." - -There are some things in this world which the most craven of men will -not do--and the vanity of that masher forbade acceptance of Webster's -alternative. He preferred to fight, but--he did not purpose being -thrashed. He resolved on strategy. - -"All right. I'll apologize," he declared, and started forward as if -to pass Webster in the vestibule, on his way to the observation-car, -whither the subject of his annoying attentions had gone. Two steps -brought him within striking distance of his enemy, and before Webster -could dodge, a sizzling righthanded blow landed on his jaw and set him -back on his haunches in the vestibule. - -It was almost a knockout--almost, but not quite. As Webster's body -struck the floor the big automatic came out of the holster; swinging in -a weak circle, it covered the other. - -"That was a daisy," Webster mumbled. "If you move before my head clears, -I'll put four bullets into you before you reach the corridor." - -He waited about a minute; then with the gun he pointed to the car -door, and the masher stepped out. Webster handed the porter his gun and -followed; two minutes later he returned, dragging his assailant by the -collar. Up the steps he jerked the big battered hulk and tossed it in -the corner of the vestibule, just as the girl came through the car, -making for the diner up ahead. - -Again she favoured him with that calm, grave, yet vitally interested -gaze, nodded appreciatively, made as if to pass on, changed her mind, -and said very gravely: "You are--a very courtly gentleman, sir." - -He bowed. There was nothing else to do, nothing that he could say, -under the circumstances; to use his chivalry as a wedge to open an -acquaintance never occurred to him--but his whiskers did occur to him. -Hastily he backed into his stateroom and closed the door; presently -he rose and surveyed himself critically in the small mirror over the -washstand. - -"No, Johnny," he murmured, "we can't go into the diner now. We're too -blamed disreputable. We were bad enough before that big swine hung -the shanty on our right eye, but whatever our physical and personal -feelings, far be it from us to parade our iridescent orb in public. -Besides, one look at that queen is enough to do us for the remainder of -our natural life, and a second look, minus a proper introduction, would -only drive us into a suicide's grave. That's a fair sample of our -luck, Johnny. It rains duck soup--and we're there like a Chinaman--with -chopsticks; and on the only day in the history of the human race, here -I am with a marvellous black eye, a dislocated thumb, four skinned -knuckles, and a grouch, while otherwise looking like a cross between -_Rip Van Winkle_ and a hired man." He sighed, rang for the porter and -told him to send a waiter for his order, since he would fain break his -fast in the privacy of his stateroom. And when the waiter came for the -order, such was Mr. Webster's mental perturbation that ham and eggs -were furthest from his thoughts. He ordered a steak with French fried -potatoes. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -|JOHN STUART WEBSTER passed a restless night. Sleep came to him in -hourly installments, from which he would rouse to ask himself whether -it was worth while to continue to go through the motions of living, -or alight at the next station, seek a lonely and unfrequented spot and -there surrender to outrageous fortune. He had _lived_ every moment of -his life; fair fortune and ill had been his portion so often that he had -long since ceased to care which took precedence over the other; to quote -Mr. Kipling, he had schooled himself to "treat those two impostors both -the same"--not a very difficult task, if one be granted a breathing -spell between the arrival of each impostor! Hitherto, in Webster's -experience, there had always been a decent interval between the two--say -a day, a week, a month or more; whereas in the present instance, two -minutes had sufficed to make the journey from a heaven of contentment to -the dungeons of despair. - -It was altogether damnable. In a careless moment, Fate had accorded -him a glimpse of the only woman he had ever met and desired to meet -again--for Webster was essentially a man's man, and his profession -and environment had militated against his opportunities for meeting -extraordinary women; and extraordinary women were the only kind that -could hope to challenge his serious attention. Had his luck changed -there, he might have rested content with his lot--but it hadn't. Fate -had gone farther. She had accorded him a signal opportunity for knightly -combat in the service of this extraordinary woman; and in the absence -of a formal introduction, what man could desire a finer opportunity -for getting acquainted! If only their meeting had but been delayed -two weeks, ten days, a week! Once free of his ugly cocoon of rags and -whiskers, the butterfly Webster would not have hesitated one brief -instant to inform himself of that young lady's name and address, -following his summary disposal of her tormentor. Trusting to the mingled -respect and confusion in his manner, and to her own womanly intuition to -warn her that no rudeness or brazen familiarity was intended, he would -have presented himself before her and addressed her in these words: - -"A few minutes ago, Miss, you were gracious enough to accord me the -rare pleasure of being of slight service to you. May I presume on that -evidence of your generosity and perfect understanding to risk a seeming -impertinence by presuming to address you?" - -Webster pictured her as bowing, favouring him with that grave yet -interested scrutiny and saying: "Certainly, sir." Whereupon he would -say: - -"It has occurred to me--for, like _Bimi_, the orangoutang, I have -perhaps too much ego in my cosmos--that you might be charitably moved -to admit me to the happy circle of those privileged to call you by name. -Were there a mutual friend on this train whom I could prevail upon to -introduce me formally, I should not be reduced to the necessity of being -unconventional. Under the circumstances, however, I am daring enough to -presume that this misfortune is not so great that I should permit it to -interfere with my respectful desires. Therefore--have I your permission -to present myself, with the hope that in so doing I _may_ feel freer -to be of additional service to you throughout the remainder of our -journey?" - -That would be a pretty, a graceful speech--a little ornate, doubtless, -but diplomatic in the extreme. Having been accorded permission to -introduce himself, he would cease thereafter to be flowery. However, -Webster realized that however graceful might be his speech and bearing, -should he essay the great adventure in the morning, his appearance would -render him ridiculous and presumptuous and perhaps shock and humiliate -her; for in all things there is a limit, and John Stuart Webster's right -eye constituted a deadline beyond which, as a gentleman, he dared not -venture; so with a heavy heart he bowed to the inevitable. Brilliant and -mysterious as a meteorite she had flashed once across his horizon and -was gone. - -In the privacy of his stateroom Webster had ham and eggs for breakfast. -He was lighting his second cigar when the porter knocked and entered -with an envelope. - -"Lady in the observation-car asked me to deliver this to you, sah," he -announced importantly. - -It 'was a note, freshly written on the train stationery. Webster read: - -The distressed lady desires to thank the gentleman in stateroom A for -his chivalry of yesterday. She quite realizes that the gentleman's offer -to relieve her of the annoyance to which she was being subjected was -such a direct expression of his nature and code, that to have declined -his aid would have been discourteous, despite her distress at the -possible outcome. She is delighted to know that her confidence in the -ability of her champion has been fully justified by a swift and sweeping -victory, but profoundly sorry that in her service the gentleman in -stateroom A was so unfortunate as to acquire a red eye with blue -trimmings. - -John Stuart Webster swore his mightiest oath, "By the twelve apostles, -Simon Peter, Andrew, James, John, Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew, Thomas, -James, Jude, and Simon, not omitting Judas Iscariot, the scaly scoundrel -who betrayed his Lord and Master!" He searched through an old wallet -until he discovered a fairly clean professional card, across the -bottom of which he wrote, "Thank you. J. S.W." and sent it to the -no-longer-distressed lady. - -"The most signal adventure of my life is now over," he soliloquized and -turned to his cigar. "For the sake of my self-respect, I had to let -her know I'm not a hobo! And now to the task of framing up a scheme -for future acquaintance. I must learn her name and destination; so as a -preliminary I'll interview the train conductor." - -He did, and under the ameliorating influence of a five-dollar bill the -conductor bent a respectful ear to the Websterian message. - -"In Car Seven," he began, "there is a young lady. I do not know what -section she occupies; neither do I know her name and destination. I only -know what she looks like." - -The conductor nodded. "And you want to ascertain her name and -destination?" - -"I do." - -"Easiest thing in life. There is only one young lady in Car Seven. I -suppose you mean that queen with the olive complexion, the green suit, -and----" - -"Hold! Enough." - -"All right. I have the unused portion of her transportation to return to -her before we hit Salt Lake; her name is on the ticket, and the ticket -indicates her destination. I'll make a mental note of both as soon as -I've identified her ticket." - -"After you've made the said mental note," Webster pleaded, "be sure you -write it down, so you'll not forget." - -A few hours later the conductor came to Webster's stateroom and handed -him a card upon which was written: - -Dolores Ruey. From Los Angeles, via San Pedro, Los Angeles & Salt Lake, -to Salt Lake City, Denver & Rio Grande to Denver, Burlington to St. -Louis, Illinois Central to New Orleans. Stop-over at Denver. - -John Stuart Webster studied the name after the conductor withdrew. -"That's a Spanish name," he soliloquized, "but for all that, she's not a -parakeet. There's something Gaelic about her features, particularly her -eyes. They're brown, with golden flecks in them, and if she had a drop -of dark blood in her, they'd be smoky and languid. Also if she were a -Latin she would have referred to my black eye--whereas she referred -to, a red eye with blue trimmings! Same thing but different! All things -considered, I guess I'll take a chance and investigate." - - - - -CHAPTER III - - -|WEBSTER'S dreams of bliss had, with very slight variation, come true as -per schedule. - -In Salt Lake City he abandoned the beefsteak on his damaged eye for two -businesslike leeches, which quickly reduced the nocturne effect around -his orb, enabling him, the third day, to saunter forth among his -fellowmen. By the end of the week he was a being reincarnated, and so he -packed a huge new wardrobe-trunk with his latest purchases and journeyed -on to Denver. Coincident with his arrival there, we again take up the -thread of our story. - -One hour after his trunk arrived the gentleman from Death Valley might -have been observed standing before a cheval glass looking long and -earnestly at the reflection of his middle-aged person, the while he -marked the fit of his new raiment. - -Let us describe these habiliments, alleging as an excuse for dwelling -with emphasis upon the subject the fact that John Stuart Webster was all -dressed up for the first time in three long, labour-ridden years, and -was tremendously glad of it. Hark to this inventory. There were the -silken hose and underwear next his well-scrubbed skin; then there was -the white pleated linen shirt--a shirt so expensive and exquisite that -Mr. Webster longed to go somewhere and shoot a game of billiards, in -order that thus he might have an excuse to remove his coat and exhibit -that shirt to the gaze of the multitude. His collar irked him slightly, -but he had been assured by the clerk who sold it to him "that it was -strictly in vogue." His gray silk Ascot tie was held in a graceful puff -by a scarfpin with a head of perfect crystal prettily shot with virgin -gold; his black afternoon coat enveloped his wide shoulders and flanked -his powerful neck with the perfection of the epidermis on a goose in the -pink of condition; his gray striped trousers broke exactly right over -his new "patent leather" shoes. The _tout ensemble_, as the gentleman -himself might have expressed it had he possessed a working knowledge of -French (which he did not), was perfect. - -He "shot" his cuffs and strutted backward and forward, striving to -observe his spinal column over his right shoulder, for he was in -a transport of delight as truly juvenile as that on the -never-to-be-forgotten day when he had attained to the dignity of his -first pair of long trousers. He observed to himself that it was truly -remarkable, the metamorphosis nine tailors and a talkative barber can -make in an old sour-dough. - -Presently, convinced that he was the glass of fashion and the mould of -form, Mr. Webster took up a smart lancewood stick and a pair of new -gray suede gloves and descended to the lobby of Denver's most exclusive -hotel. He paused at the cigar stand long enough to fill his case with -three-for-a-half perfectos and permit the young woman in charge to feast -her world-weary eyes on his radiant person (which she did, classifying -and tabulating him instantly as a millionaire mining man from Nevada). -After this he lighted a cigar and stepped forth into Seventeenth Street, -along which he strolled until he came to a certain building into the -elevator of which he entered and was whisked to the twelfth floor, where -he alighted and found himself before a wide portal which bore in gold -letters the words: Engineers' Club. - -The Engineers' Club was the closest approach to a home that John Stuart -Webster had known for twenty years, and so he paused just within the -entrance to perform the time-honoured ceremonial of home-coming. Over -the arched doorway leading to the lounge hung a large bronze gong such -as is used in mines, and from the lever of the gong-clapper depended a -cord which Webster seized and jerked thrice--thus striking the signal -known to all of the mining fraternity--the signal to hoist! Only those -members who had been sojourning in distant parts six months or more were -privileged thus to disturb the peace and dignity of the Engineers' -Club, the same privilege, by the way, carrying with it the obligation of -paying for the materials shortly to be hoisted! - -Having announced the return of a prodigal, our hero stepped to the door -of the lounge and shouted: - -"John Stuart Webster, E. M." - -The room was empty. Not a single member was present to greet the -wanderer and accept of his invitation! - -"Home was never like this when I was a boy," he complained to the -servant at the telephone exchange. "Times must be pretty good in the -mining game in Colorado when everybody has a job that keeps him out of -Denver." - -The servant rose and essayed a raid on his hat and stick, but Mr. -Webster, who was impatient at thus finding himself amidst old scenes, -fended him away and said "Shoo fly!" Then he crossed the empty lounge -and ascended the stairs leading to the card room, at the entrance of -which he paused, leaning on his stick--in unconscious imitation of a -Sicilian gentleman posing for his photograph after his first payday in -America--swept that room with a wistful eye and sighed because nothing -had changed in three long years. - -Save for the slight job of kalsomining which Father Time had done on the -edges of the close-cropped Websterian moustache, the returned prodigal -might have stepped out of the Club but yesterday. He would not have -taken the short end of a modest bet that even a fresh log had been -placed on the fire or that the domino-players over against the wall had -won or lost a drink or two and then resumed playing--although perchance -there _were_ a few more gray hairs in the thickly thatched head of old -Neddy Jerome, sitting in his favourite seat by the window and turning -the cards in his eternal game of solitaire, in blissful ignorance that -John Stuart Webster stood within the portals of home and awaited the -fatted calf. - -"I'll hypnotize the old pelican into looking up," Webster soliloquized, -and forthwith bent a beetling gaze upon the player. For as many as five -seconds he strove to demonstrate the superiority of mind over solitaire; -then, despairing of success, he struck the upholstery of an adjacent -chair a terrific blow with his stick--the effect of which was to cause -everybody in the room to start and to conceal Mr. Webster momentarily in -a cloud of dust, the while in a bellowing baritone he sang:= - -```His father was a hard-rock miner; - -```He comes from my home town----= - -"Jack Webster! The devil's own kin!" shouted Neddy Jerome. He swept -the cards into a heap and waddled across the room to meet this latest -assailant of the peace and dignity of the Engineers' Club. "You old, -worthless, ornery, no-good son of a lizard! I've never been so glad to -see a man that didn't owe me money." He seized Webster's hand in both -of his and wrung it affectionately. "Jack," he continued, "I've been -combing the whole civilized world for you, for a month, at least. Where -the devil _have_ you been?" - -John Stuart Webster beamed happily upon his friend. "Well, Neddy, you -old stocking-knitter," he replied quizzically, "since that is the case, -I'm not surprised at your failure to find me. You've known me long -enough to have remembered to confine your search to the _uncivilized_ -reaches." - -"Well, you're here, at any rate, and I'm happy. Now you'll settle down." - -"Hardly, Neddy. I'm young yet, you know--only forty. Still a real -live man and not quite ready to degenerate into a card-playing, -eat-drink-and-be-merry, die-of-inanition, sink-to-oblivion, and -go-to-hell fireplace spirit!" And he prodded Jerome in the short ribs -with a tentative thumb that caused the old man to wince. He turned -to greet the halfdozen card-players who had looked up at his noisy -entrance--deciding that since they were strangers to him they were -mere half-baked young whelps but lately graduated from some school of -mines--and permitted his friend to drag him downstairs to the deserted -lounge, where Jerome paused in the middle of the room and renewed his -query: - -"Johnny, where have you been?" - -"Lead me to a seat, O thou of little manners," Webster retorted. "Here, -boy! Remove my property and guard it well. I will stay and disport -myself." And he suffered himself to be dispossessed of his hat, gloves, -and stick. "It used to be the custom here," he resumed, addressing -Jerome, "that when one of the Old Guard returned, he was obliged to ask -his friends to indicate their poison----" - -"Where have you been, I ask?" - -"Out in Death Valley, California, trying to pry loose a fortune." - -"Did you pry it?" - -John Stuart Webster arched his eyebrows in mock reproach. "And you can -see my new suit, Neddy, my sixteen-dollar, made-to-order shoes, and -my horny hoofs encased in silken hose--and ask that question? Freshly -shaved and ironed and almost afraid to sit down and get wrinkles in -my trousers! Smell that!" He blew a cloud of cigar smoke into Jerome's -smiling face. The latter sniffed. "It smells expensive," he replied. - -"Yes, and you can bet it tastes expensive, too," Webster answered, -handing his cigar-case to his friend--who helped himself and said: - -"So you've made your pile, eh, Jack?" - -"Do you suppose I would have come back to Colorado without money? -Haven't you lived long enough, Neddy, to realize that when a man has -money he never knows where to go to spend it? It's so blamed hard to -make up one's mind, with all the world to choose from, and so the only -place I could think of was the old Engineers' Club in Denver. There, -at least, I knew I would find one man of my acquaintance--an old -granny named Neddy Jerome. Yes, Neddy, I knew I would find you playing -solitaire, with your old heart beating about seven times an hour, your -feet good and warm, and a touch of misery around your liver from lack of -exercise." - -Jerome bit the end of his cigar and spat derisively. "How much have you -made?" he demanded bluntly, "It's none of your business, but I'll tell -you because I love you, Neddy. I've made one hundred thousand dollars." - -"Chicken-feed," Jerome retorted. - -Webster glanced around. "I thought at first nothing had changed in the -old place," he said, "but I see I was mistaken." - -"Why, what's wrong, Jack?" - -"Why, when I was here before, they used to ask a man if he had a -mouth--and now they ask him how much money he's made, where he made it, -and--why, hello, Mose, you black old scoundrel, how do you do? Glad to -see you. Take the order, Mose: some milk and vichy for Mr. Jerome, and -a----" - -"Yassuh, yassuh," Mose interrupted, "an' a Stinger for you, suh." - -"Gone but not forgotten," breathed Mr. Webster, and walled his eyes -piously after the fashion of one about to say grace before a meal. "How -sweet a thing is life with a club servant like old black Mose, who does -things without an order. I feel at home--at last." - -"Johnny," Jerome began again, "I've been combing the mineral belt of -North and South America for you for a month." - -"Why this sudden belated interest in me?" - -"I have a fine job for you, John----" - -"King's X," Webster interrupted, and showed both hands with the fingers -crossed. "No plotting against my peace and comfort, Neddy. Haven't I -told you I'm all dressed up for the first time in three years, that I -have money in my pocket and more in bank? Man, I'm going to tread the -primrose path for a year before I get back into the harness again." - -Jerome waved a deprecatory hand, figuratively brushing aside such feeble -and inconsequential argument. "Are you foot-loose?" he demanded. - -"I'm not. I'm bound in golden chains----" - -"Married, eh? Great Scott, I might have guessed it. So you're on your -honeymoon, eh?" - -"No such luck, you vichy-drinking iconoclast. If you had ever gotten far -enough from this club during the past fifteen years to get a breath of -real fresh air, you'd understand why I want to enjoy civilization for -a week or two before I go back to a mine superintendent's cabin on some -bleak hill. No, sir-ee. Old Jeremiah Q. Work and I have had a falling -out. I'm going on to New York and attend the opera, see all the good -plays, mush around through the Metropolitan Museum of Art, drink tea, -and learn to tango." Webster sighed gustily. "Lord, Neddy, how I long -for the fleshpots. I've slept under the desert stars so long I want -electric signs for a change. Bacon and beans and sour dough are -wonderful when one hasn't something better, but I crave an omelette -souffl drenched in cognac, and the cognac afire. Yes, and I want an -obsequious waiter to hurry in with it and then take a dollar tip from me -afterward for all the world like he was doing me a favour by accepting -it. Dad burn your picture, Neddy, I want some class! I've been listening -to a dago shift-boss playing the accordeon for three years--and he could -only play three tunes. Now I want Sousa's band. I want to hive up in a -swell hotel and leave a call for six o'clock--and then when they call -me, I want to curse them, roll over, and go to sleep again. I've been -bathing in tepid, dirty water in a redwood sluice-box, and now I desire -a steam room and a needle shower and an osteopath. I've been bossing -Greasers and Italians and was forced to learn their language to get -results, and now I want to speak my mother tongue to my old friends. The -last funny story I heard had whiskers on it when Rameses was playing -hop-scotch in Memphis, Egypt, and by thunder I'm going to have a new -deal all around." - -"Very well, Jack. Don't excite yourself. I'll give you exactly thirty -days to sicken of it all--and then I shall come and claim my property." - -"Neddy, I'll not work for you." - -"Oh, yes, you will, John." - -"No, sir, I'm mad. I won't play." - -"You're it. I just tagged you." - -"I require a rest--but unfold your proposition, Neddy. I was born a -poor, weak vessel consumed with a curiosity that was ever my undoing. I -can only protest that this is no way to treat a friend." - -"Nonsense! My own brother wants this job, and I have refused to give it -to him. Business is business--and I've saved it for you." - -Jerome leaned forward and laid his finger confidentially on Webster's -knee; whereat the lighthearted wanderer carefully lifted the finger, -brushed an imaginary speck of dirt from it, and set it down again. "Be -serious, you ingrate," Jerome protested. ''Listen! I've been working -for two years on a consolidation up near Telluride, and I've just put it -across. Jack, it's the biggest thing in the country---- - -Webster closed his eyes and crooned:= - -```"I'm dying for some one to love me; - -````I'm tired of living alone; - -```I want to be somebody's darling, - -````To be queen upon somebody's throne."= - -"Well, you'll be king on the throne of the Colorado Consolidated Mines -Company, Limited. English capital, Jack. Pay 'em 6 per cent, and they'll -call you blessed. There's twenty-five thousand a year in it, with a -house and a good cook and an automobile and a chauffeur, and you -can come to town whenever you please, provided you don't neglect the -company's interests--and I know you're not that kind of an engineer." - -"Do I have to put some money into it, Neddy?" - -"Not necessarily, although I should advise it. I can let you in on -the ground floor for that hundred thousand of yours, guarantee you a -handsome profit and in all probability a big clean-up." - -"I feel myself slipping, Neddy. Nevertheless, the tail goes with -the hide. I'm not in the habit of asking my friends to guarantee my -investments, and if you say it's all right, I'll spread what I have left -of the hundred thousand when I report for duty. What's the news around -this mortuary, anyhow? Who's dead and who's alive?" - -"It's been a tremendous job getting this consolidation over, Jack. -When----" - -"In pity's name! Spare me. I've heard all I want to hear about your -confounded consolidation. News! News! Give me news! I had to beg for a -drink----" - -"I might remind you that your manners have not improved with age, Jack -Webster. You haven't thanked me for that job." - -"No--nor shall I. Mose, you black sinner, how dare you appear before me -again without that stinger?" - -Mose, the aged coloured porter of the Engineers' Club, flashed a row of -ivories and respectfully re-turned the democratic greeting. - -"Letter for you, suh. The secretary told me to give it to you, Mistah -Webster." - -"Thank you, Mose. Speak up, Neddy, and tell me something. Ever hear -anything of Billy Geary?" He was tearing the edge of the envelope the -while he gazed at Jerome, who was rubbing his fat hands together after -the fashion of elderly men who are well pleased with themselves. - -"You have a chance to become one of the greatest and richest mining -engineers in the world, Jack," he answered, "now that you've cut loose -from that young crook Geary. I don't know what's become of him, and -neither does anybody else. For that matter, nobody cares." - -"I do--and you can take the brief end of that bet for your last white -chip. Don't let me hear you or anybody else say anything against Billy -Geary. That boy goes for my money, every turn in the box. Don't make any -mistakes about that, old-timer." - -Webster's face suddenly was serious; the bantering intonation in his -voice was gone, and a new, slightly strident note had crept into it. But -Jerome, engrossed in his own affairs, failed to observe the menace -in that swift transition of mood in his companion. He waved his hand -soothingly. - -"All right, old Johnny Pepper-box, have it your own way. Nevertheless, -I'm a little mystified. The last I knew of you two, you had testified -against him in the high-grader trials at Cripple Creek, and he had -pulled out under a cloud, even after his acquittal." - -"Give a dog a bad name, and it will stick to him," Webster retorted. -"Of course I testified against him. As engineer for the Mine Owners' -Association, I had to. The high-grade ore was found in his assay office, -and the circumstantial evidence was complete, and I admit Billy was -acquitted merely because I and others could not swear positively that -the ore came from any certain mine. It was the same old story, Neddy. -It's become history in all mining camps. You can be morally certain that -high-grade ore has been stolen from your mine, but unless you catch -the ore thief in the act, how can you prove it? High-grade ore is blind -goods and is not confined to any certain man-owned spot on this wicked -earth--so there you are! I suppose you read the newspaper reports and -believed them, just as everybody else does." - -"Well, forget it, Jack. It's all over long ago, and forgotten." - -"It wasn't all over so long ago as you seem to think. I suppose you knew -the Holman gang was afterward sent to the penitentiary for those same -high-grade operations?" - -"Yes." - -"But I'll bet my new plug hat you never knew I was the _Hawkshaw_ that -sent them there! You bet I was! Billy Geary's acquittal didn't end my -interest in the case--not by a jugful! I fought the case against the -friends of the Holman crew _among the mine owners themselves_; and -it cost me my good job, my prestige as a mining engineer, and thirty -thousand dollars of money that I'd slaved to get together. They squeezed -me, Neddy--squeezed me hard like a lemon, and threw me away, but I got -them! I should tell a man! Of course you never knew this, Neddy, and -for that matter, neither does Geary. I wish he did. We were good friends -once. I certainly was mighty fond of that boy." - -He drew the letter from the envelope and slowly opened it, his mind not -upon the letter, but upon Billy Geary. - -"And you never heard what became of Geary?" - -"Not a word. I was too busy wondering what was to become of me. I -couldn't get a job anywhere in Colorado, and I moved to Nevada. Made a -million in Goldfield, dropped it in the panic of 1907, and had to start -again----" - -"What have you been doing lately?" - -"Borax. Staked a group of claims down in Death Valley. Bully ground, -Neddy, and I was busted when I located them. Had to borrow money to -pay the filing fees and incorporation, and did my own assessment work. -Look!" Webster held up his hands, still somewhat grimy and calloused. - -"How did you get by with your bluff?" - -"In the only way anybody ever got by on no pair. I was a brave dog -and went around with an erect tail, talking in millions and buying my -tobacco on jawbone. The Borax Trust knew I was busted, but they never -could quite get over the fear that I'd dig up some blacking and give -them a run--so they bought me out. Two weeks ago I got a belated -telegram, telling me there was a hundred thousand dollars in escrow -against deeds and certificate of title in a Salt Lake City bank--so here -I am." - -"Somebody told me Geary had gone to Rhodesia," Jerome continued -musingly, "or maybe it was Capetown. I know he was seen somewhere in -South Africa." - -"He left the Creek immediately after the conclusion of his trial. Poor -boy! That dirty business destroyed the lad and made a tramp of him, -I guess. I tell you, Neddy, no two men ever lived who came nearer to -loving each other than Billy Geary and his old Jack-pardner. We bucked -the marts of men and went to sleep together hungry many a time during -our five-year partnership. Why, Bill was like my own boy! Do you know, -Neddy, now that I've rounded the forty-pole, I get thinking sometimes, -and wish I could have married when I was about twenty years old; I might -have had a son to knock around with now, while I'm still in the shank of -my own youth. And if I had been blessed with a son, I would have wanted -him to be just like Billy. You know, Bill tied onto me when he was about -eighteen. He's rising twenty-six now. He came to me at the Bonnie Claire -mine fresh from high school, and I staked him to a drill; but he didn't -stick there long. I saw he was too good a boy to be a mucker all his -days." - -Webster smiled reminiscently and went on: "I'll never forget the day -Billy challenged a big Cornish shift-boss that called him out of his -name. The Cousin Jack could fight, too, but Billy walked around him like -a cooper around a barrel, and when he finished, I fired the Cousin Jack -and gave Billy his job!" - -He chuckled softly at the remembrance. "Too bad!" he continued. "That -boy had brains and grit and honour, and he shouldn't have held that -trial against me. But Billy was young, I suppose, and he just couldn't -understand my position. It takes the hard old years to impart common -sense to a man, and I suppose Billy couldn't understand why I had to be -true to my salt. He should have known I hadn't a leg to stand on when -I took the stand for the prosecution--not a scintilla of evidence to -present, except that the high-grade had been found in his assay office. -Jerome, I curse the day I took that boy out from underground and put -him in the Bonnie Claire assay office to learn the business. How could I -know that the Holman gang had cached the stuff in his shack?" - -"Well, it's too bad," Jerome answered dully. He was quite willing that -the subject of conversation should be changed. "I'm glad to get the -right dope on the boy, anyhow. We might be able to hand him a good job -to make up for the injustice. Have another drink?" - -"Not until I read this letter. Now, who the dickens knew I was headed -for Denver and the Engineers' Club? I didn't tell a soul, and I only -arrived this morning." - -He turned to the last page to ascertain the identity of his -correspondent, and his facial expression ran the gamut from surprise to -a joy that was good to see. - -It was a long letter, and John Stuart Webster read it deliberately. -When he had read it once, he reread it; after which he sat in silent -contemplation of the design of the carpet for fully a minute before -reaching for the bell. A servant responded immediately. - -"Bring me the time-tables of all roads leading to New Orleans," he -ordered, "--also a cable blank." - -Webster had reread the letter before the servant returned with the -time-tables. He glanced through them. "Henry," he announced, "your name -is Henry, isn't it?" - -"No, sir--George, sir." - -"Well, August, you go out to the desk, like a good fellow, and ask the -secretary to arrange for a compartment for me to New Orleans on the Gulf -States Limited, leaving at ten o'clock to-morrow night." He handed the -servant his card. "Now wait a minute until I write something." He seized -the cable blank, helped himself, uninvited, to Neddy Jerome's fountain -pen, and wrote: - -William H. Geary, - -Calle de Concordia No. 19, - -Buenaventura, - -Sobrante, C. A. - -Salute, you young jackass! Just received your letter. Cabling thousand -for emergency roll first thing to-morrow. Will order machinery. Leaving -for New Orleans to-morrow night, to arrive Buenaventura first steamer. -Your letter caught me with a hundred thousand. We cut it two ways and -take our chances. Keep a light in the window for your old Jack Pardner. - -"That's a windy cablegram," Neddy Jerome remarked as the servant bore it -away. "Why all this garrulity? A cablegram anywhere generally costs at -least a dollar a word." - -"'That's my delight of a shiny night, in the season of the year,'" -quoted John Stuart Webster; "and why the devil economize when the boy -needs cheering up?" - -"What boy?" - -"Billy Geary." - -"Broke?" - -"I should say so. Rattles when he walks." - -"Where is he?" - -"Central America." - -Neddy Jerome was happy. He was in an expansive mood, for he had, with -the assistance of a kindly fate, rounded up the one engineer in all the -world whom he needed to take charge of the Colorado Consolidated. So he -said: - -"Well, Jack, just to celebrate the discovery of your old pal, I'll tell -you what I'll do. I'll O. K. your voucher for the expense of bringing -young Geary back to the U. S. A., and when we get him here, it will be -up to you to find a snug berth for him with Colorado Consolidated." - -"Neddy," said John Stuart Webster, "by my hali-dom, I love thee. You're -a thoughtful, kindly old stick-in-the-mud, but----" - -"No _ifs_ or _but's_. I'm your boss," Jerome interrupted, and waddled -away to telephone the head waiter at his favourite restaurant to reserve -a table for two. - -Mr. Webster sighed. He disliked exceedingly to disappoint old Neddy, -but---- He shrank from seeming to think over-well of himself by -declining a twenty-five-thousand-dollar-a-year job with the biggest -mining company in Colorado, but---- - -"Rotten luck," he soliloquized. "It runs that way for a while, and then -it changes, and gets worse!" - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -|WHEN Jerome returned to his seat, the serious look in Webster's -hitherto laughing eyes challenged his immediate attention. "Now what's -gone and broken loose?" he demanded. - -"Neddy," said John Stuart Webster gently, "do you remember my crossing -my fingers and saying, 'King's X' when you came at me with that -proposition of yours?" - -"Yes. But I noticed you uncrossed them mighty quick when I told you the -details of the job. You'll never be offered another like it." - -"I know, Neddy, I know. It just breaks my heart to have to decline it, -but the fact of the matter is, I think you'd better give that job to -your brother after all. At any rate, I'm not going to take it." - -"Why?" the amazed Jerome demanded. "Johnny, you're crazy in the head. Of -course you'll take it." - -For answer Webster handed his friend the letter he had just received. - -"Read that, old horse, and see if you can't work up a circulation," he -suggested. - -Jerome adjusted his spectacles and read: - -Calle de Concordia 19, Buenaventura, - -Sobrante, C. A. - -Dear John: - -I would address you as "dear friend John," did I but possess sufficient -courage. In my heart of hearts you are still that, but after three years -of silence, due to my stupidity and hardness of heart, it is, perhaps, -better to make haste slowly. - -To begin, I should like to be forgiven, on the broad general grounds -that I am most almighty sorry for what I went and done! Am I forgiven? -I seem to see your friendly old face and hear you answer "Aye," and with -this load off my chest at last I believe I feel better already. - -I did not know until very recently what had become of you, and that that -wretched Cripple Creek business had been cleared up at last. I met -a steam-shovel man a month or two ago on the Canal. He used to be a -machine-man in the Portland mine, and he told me the whole story. - -Jack, you poor, deluded old piece of white meat, do you think for a -moment that I held against you your testimony for the operators in -Cripple Creek? You will never know how badly it broke me up when that -Canal digger sprung his story of how you went the limit for my measly -reputation after I had quit the company in disgrace. Still, it was not -that which hurt me particularly. I thought you believed the charges and -that you testified in a firm belief that I was the guilty man, as all of -the circumstantial evidence seemed to indicate. I thought this for three -long, meagre years, old friend, and I'm sorry. After that, I suppose -there isn't any need for me to say more, except that you are an old -fool for not saying you were going to spend your money and your time -and reputation trying to put my halo back on straight! I doubt if I was -worth it, and you knew that; but let it pass, for we have other fish to -fry. - -The nubbin of the matter is this: There is only one good gold mine left -in this weary world--and I have it. It's the sweetest wildcat lever -struck, and we stand the finest show in the world of starving to death if -we tackle it without sufficient capital to go through. (You will notice -that I am already--and unconsciously--employing the plural pronoun. How -rapidly the old habits return with the old friendships rehabilitated!) -It will take at least thirty thousand dollars, and we ought to have -double that to play safe. I do not know whether you have, or can raise, -sixty cents, but at any rate I am going to put the buck up to you and -you can take a look. - -Here are the specifications. Read them carefully and then see if there -is anybody in the U. S. A. whom you can interest to the tune mentioned -above. We could probably get by with thirty thousand, but I would not -jeopardize anybody's money by tackling it with less. - -Jack, I have a mining concession. It is low-grade--a free-milling gold -vein--twelve feet of ore between good solid walls on a contact between -Andesite and Silurian limestone. The ore is oxidized, and we can -save ninety per cent, of the values on amalgamating plates without -concentrating or cyaniding machinery. I have had my own portable assay -outfit on the ground for a month, and you can take my opinion for -what it is worth when I assure you that this concession is a winner, -providing the money is forthcoming with which to handle it. - -This is a pretty fair country, Jack--if you survive long enough to get -used to it. At first you think it's Paradise; then you grow to hate it -and know it for hell with the lid off; and finally all your early love -for it returns and you become what I am now--a tropical tramp! There -is only one social stratum lower than mine, and that's the tropical -beachcomber. I am not that--yet; and will not be if my landlady will -continue to listen to my blandishments. She is a sweet soul, with a -divine disposition, and I am duly grateful. - -I would tell you all about the geography, topography, flora and fauna -of Sobrante, but you can ascertain that in detail by consulting any -standard encyclopedia. Governmentally the country is similar to its -sister republics. The poor we have always with us; also a first-class, -colorado-maduro despot in the political saddle, and it's a cold day -indeed when two patriots, two viva's and a couple of old Long Tom -Springfield rifles cannot upset the Sobrante apple cart. We have the -usual Governmental extravagance in the matter of statues to countless -departed "liberators" in all the public squares, and money is no -object. It is depreciated shin-plasters, and I had to use a discarded -sugar-barrel to hold mine when I arrived and changed four hundred pesos -oro into the national currency. If a waiter brings you a jolt of hooch, -you're stingy if you tip him less than a Sobrante dollar. - -We have a Malicon along the bay shore and back again, with a municipal -bandstand in the middle thereof, upon which the fine city band of -Buenaventura plays nightly those languid Spanish melodies that must have -descended to us from the Inquisition. If you can spare the cash, send -me a bale of the latest New York rags and a banjo, and I'll start -something. I have nothing else to do until I hear from you, save shake -dice at The Frenchman's with the Prsidente, who has nothing else to do -except lap up highballs and wait for the next drawing of the lottery. -I asked him for a job to tide me over temporarily, and he offered me a -portfolia! I could have been Minister of Finance! - -I declined, from a constitutional inability, inherent in the Irish, to -assimilate a joke from a member of an inferior race. - -We haven't had a revolution for nearly six months, but we have hopes. - -There are some white men here, neither better nor worse. We tolerate -each other. - -I am addressing you at the Engineers' Club, in the hope that my letter -may reach you there, or perhaps the secretary will know your address and -forward it to you. If you are foot-loose and still entertain a lingering -regard for your old pal, get busy on this mining concession P. D. Q. -Time is the essence of the contract, because I am holding on to the thin -edge of nothing, and if we have a change of government I may lose even -that. I need you, John Stuart Webster, worse than I need salvation. I -enclose you a list of equipment required. - -If you receive this letter and can do anything for me, please cable. If -you cannot, please cable anyway. It is needless for me to state that -the terms of division are as you make them, although I think fifty-fifty -would place us both on Easy Street for the rest of our days. Do let me -hear from you, Jack, if only to tell me the old _entente cordiale_ still -exists. I know now that I was considerable of a heedless pup a few years -ago and overlooked my hand quite regularly, but now that I have a good -thing I do not know of anybody with whom I care to share it except your -own genial self. Please let me hear from you. - -Affectionately, - -Billy. - -Jerome finished reading this remarkable communication; then with -infinite amusement he regarded John Stuart Webster over the tops of his -glasses as one who examines a new and interesting species of bug. - -"So Billy loves that dear Sobrante, eh?" he said with abysmal sarcasm. -"Jack Webster, listen to a sane man and be guided accordingly. I was in -this same little Buenaventura once. I was there for three days, and I -wouldn't have been there three minutes if I could have caught a steamer -out sooner. Of all the miserable, squalid, worthless, ornery, stinking -holes on the face of God's green footstool, Sobrante is the worst--if -one may judge it by its capital city. Jack, there is an old bromide that -describes aptly the republic of Sobrante, and it's so trite I hesitate -to repeat it--but I will, for your benefit. Sobrante is a country where -the flowers are without fragrance, the men without honour, and the -women without virtue. It is hot and unhealthy, and the mosquitoes wear -breechclouts; and when they bite you, you die. You get mail three times -a month, and there isn't a white man in the whole Roman-candle republic -that a gentleman would associate with." - -"You forget Billy Geary," Webster reminded him gently. - -"He's a boy. What does his judgment amount to? Are you going to chase -off to this God-forsaken fever-hole at the behest of a lad scarcely out -of his swaddling clothes? Jack Webster, surely you aren't going to throw -yourself away--give up the sure thing I offer you--to join Billy Geary -in Sobrante and finance a wildcat prospect without a certificate of -title attached. Why, Jack, my dear boy, don't you know that if -you develop your mine to-morrow and get it paying well, the first -'liberator' may take it away from you or tax you for the entire output?" - -"We'll have government protection, Neddy. This will be American capital, -and if they get fresh, our Uncle Sam can send a warship, can't he?" - -"He can--but he won't. Are you and Billy Geary of sufficient importance -at home or abroad to warrant the vast consumption of coal necessary to -send a battleship to protect your dubious prospect-hole? Be reasonable. -What did you wire that confounded boy?" - -"That I was coming." - -"Cable him you've changed, your mind. We'll send him some money to come -home, and you can give him a good job under you. I'll O. K. the voucher -and charge it to your personal expense account." - -"That's nice of you, old sport, and I thank you kindly. I'll talk to -Billy when I arrive in Buenaventura, and if the prospect doesn't look -good to me, I'll argue him out of it and we'll come home." - -"But I want you now. I don't want you to go away." - -"You promised me thirty days in which to have a good time----" - -"So I did. But is this having a good time? How about that omelette -souffl all blazing with blue fire, and that shower-bath and the opera -and mushing through the art centres, and Sousa's band----" - -"They have a band down in Buenaventura. Billy says so." - -"It plays 'La Paloma' and 'Sobre las Olas' and 'La Golondrina' and all -the rest of them. Jack, you'll go crazy listening to it." - -"Oh, I don't want any omelette souffl, and I had a bath before I left -the hotel. I was just hearing myself talk, Neddy," the culprit protested -weakly. "Let me go. I might come back. But I must go. I want to see -Billy." - -"You just said a minute ago you'd turned the forty-year post," Jerome -warned him. "And you're now going to lose a year or two more in which -you might better be engaged laying up a foundation of independence -for your old age. You will get out of Sobrante with the price of a -second-class ticket on a vile fruit boat, and you'll be back here -panhandling around for a job at a quarter of what I am offering you. For -Heaven's sake, man, don't be a fool." - -"Oh, but I will be a fool," John Stuart Webster answered; and possibly, -by this time, the reader has begun to understand the potency of his -middle name--the Scotch are notoriously pig-headed, and Mr. Webster had -just enough oatmeal in his blood to have come by that centre-fire -name honestly. "And you, you poor old horse, you could not possibly -understand why, if you lived to be a million years old." - -He got up from his chair to the full height of his six-feet-one, and -stretched one hundred and ninety pounds of bone and muscle. - -"And so I shall go to Sobrante and lose all of this all-important money, -shall I?" he jeered. "Then, by all the gods of the Open Country, I hope -I may! Old man, you have browsed through a heap of literature in your -day, but I doubt if it has done you any good. Permit me to map out a -course of reading for you. Get a copy of 'Paradise Lost' and another -of 'Cyrano de Bergerac.' In the former you will find a line running -somewhat thusly: 'What tho' the cause be lost, all is not lost!' And -in the immortal work of Monsieur Rostand, let me recommend one little -page--about fifteen lines. Read them, old money-grubber, and learn! On -second thought, do not read them. Those lines would only be wasted on -you, for you have become afflicted with hypertrophy of the acquisitive -sense, which thins the blood, dwarfs the understanding, stunts the -perception of relative values, and chills the feet. . - -"Let me foretell your future for the next twenty years, Neddy. You will -spend about forty per cent, of your time in this lounging-room, thirty -per cent, of it in piling up a bank-roll, out of which you will glean no -particular enjoyment, and the remaining thirty per cent, you will spend -in bed. And then some bright morning your heart-beat will slow down -almost imperceptibly, and the House Committee will order a wreath of -autumn leaves hung just above Number Four domino table, and it will -remain there until the next annual house-cleaning, when some swamper -'will say, 'What the devil is this stuff here for?' and forthwith he -will tear it down and consign it to the fireplace." - -"Ba-a-li," growled Jerome. - -"The truth hurts, I know," Webster pursued relentlessly, "but hear me -to the bitter end. And then presently shall enter the club no less a -personage than young John Stuart Webster, even as he entered it to-day. -He will be smelling of country with the hair on, and he will glance -toward Table Number Four and murmur sympathetically: 'Poor old Jerome! -I knowed him good!' Did I hear you say 'Huh!' just then? I thank -thee for teaching me that word. Take careful note and see I use it -correctly--'_Huh!_' Dad burn you, Neddy, I'm not a Methuselah. I want -some fun in life. I want to fight and be broke and go hungry and then -make money for the love of making it and spending it, and I want to live -a long time yet. I have a constitutional weakness for foregathering with -real he-men, doing real he-things, and if I'm to be happy, I'll just -naturally have to be the he-est of the whole confounded pack! I want to -see the mirage across the sagebrush and hear it whisper: 'Hither, John -Stuart Webster! Hither, you fool, and I'll hornswaggle you again, as in -an elder day I horn,swaggled you before.'" - -Jerome shook his white thatch hopelessly. - -"I thought you were a great mining engineer, John," he said sadly, "but -you're not. You're a poet. You do not seem to care for money." - -"Well," Webster retorted humorously, "it isn't exactly what you might -term a ruling passion. I like to make it, but there's more fun spending -it. I've made a hundred thousand dollars, and now I want to go blow -it--and I'm going to. Do not try to argue with me. I'm a lunatic and I -will have my way. If I didn't go tearing off to Sobrante and join forces -with Billy Geary, there to play the game, red or black, I'd feel as if I -had done something low and mean and small. The boy's appealed to me, and -I have made my answer. If I come back alive but broke, you know in your -heart you'll give me the best job you have." - -"You win," poor Jerome admitted. - -"Hold the job open thirty days. At the end of that period I'll give you -a definite answer, Neddy." - -"There is no Balm in Gilead," Jerome replied sadly. "Blessed are they -that expect nothing, for they shall not be disappointed." - -"It's six-thirty," Webster suggested. "Let's eat. Last call for that -omelette souffl, and we'll go to a show afterward. By the way, Neddy, -how do you like this suit? Fellow in Salt Lake built it for me--ninety -bucks!" - -But Jerome was not interested in clothing and similar foolishness. He -only knew that he had lost the services of a mining engineer for whom he -had searched the country for a month. He rose, dusting the cigar ashes -from his vest, and followed sulkily. - -Despite the evidences of "grouch" which Jerome brought to the dinner -table with John Stuart Webster, he was not proof against the latter's -amazing vitality and boundless good spirits. The sheer weight of the -Websterian optimism and power of enjoying simple things swept all of -Jerome's annoyance from him as a brisk breeze dissipates the low-lying -fog that hides a pleasant valley, and ere the second cocktail had -made its appearance, the president of the Colorado Consolidated Mines -Company, Limited, was doing his best to help Webster enjoy this one -perfect night snatched from the grim processional of sunrise and sunset -that had passed since last he had dallied with the fleshpots--that were -to pass ere he should dally with them again according to his peculiar -nature and inclination. - -Lovingly, lingeringly, Mr. Webster picked his way through the _hors -d'ouvres_, declared against the soup as too filling, mixed the salad -after a recipe of his own, served it and consumed it prior to the advent -of the entre, which if not the fashion in the West, at present, has not -as yet gone entirely out of fashion. He revelled in breast of pheasant, -with asparagus tips, and special baked potato; he thrilled with -champagne at twelve dollars the quart, and a tender light came into his -quizzical glance at sight of a brick of ice cream in four colours; he -cheered for the omelette souffl. In the end he demanded a tiny cheese -fit for active service, cracked himself a peck of assorted nuts, and -with a pot of black coffee and the best cigars possible of purchase -in Denver, he leaned back at his ease and forgot the theatre in the -long-denied delight of yarning with his old friend. - -At one o'clock next morning they were still seated in the cosy grill, -smoking and talking. Jerome looked at his watch. - -"Great grief, Johnny!" he declared. "I must be trotting along. Haven't -been out this late in years." - -"It's the shank of the evening, Neddy," Webster pleaded, "and I'm hungry -again. We'll have a nice broiled lobster, with drawn butter--eh, Ned? -And another quart of that '98?" - -"My liver would never stand it. I'd be in bed for a week," Jerome -protested. "See you at the club to-morrow afternoon before you leave, I -presume." - -"If I get through with my shopping in time," Webster answered, and -reluctantly abandoning the lobster and accessories, he accompanied -Jerome to the door and saw him safely into a taxicab. - -"Sure you won't think it over, Jack, and give up this crazy -proposition?" he pleaded at parting. - -Webster shook his head. "I sniff excitement and adventure and profit in -Sobrante, Neddy, and I've just got to go look-see. I'm like an old burro -staked out knee-deep in alfalfa just now. I won't take kindly to the -pack---" - -"And like an old burro, you won't be happy until you've sneaked through -a hole in the fence to get out into a stubble-field and starve." Jerome -swore halfheartedly and promulgated the trite proverb that life is -just one blank thing after the other--an inchoate mass of liver and -disappointment! - -"Do you find it so?" Webster queried sympathetically. - -Suspecting that he was being twitted, Jerome looked up sharply, prepared -to wither Webster with that glance. But no, the man was absolutely -serious; whereupon Jerome realized the futility of further argument and -gave John Stuart Webster up for a total loss. Still, he could not -help smiling as he reflected how Webster had planned a year of quiet -enjoyment and Fate had granted him one brief evening. He marvelled that -Webster could be so light-hearted and contented under the circumstances. - -Webster read his thoughts. "Good-bye, old man," he said, and extended -his hand. "Don't worry about me. Allah is always kind to fools, my -friend; sorrow is never their portion. I've led rather a humdrum life. -I've worked hard and never had any fun or excitement to speak of, and in -answering Billy's call I have a feeling that I am answering the call of -a great adventure." - -He did not know how truly he spoke, of course, but if he had, that -knowledge would not have changed his answer. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -|THE morning following his decision to play the rle of angel to Billy -Geary's mining concession in Sobrante, John Stuart Webster, like Mr. -Pepys, was up betimes. - -Nine o'clock found him in the office of his friend Joe Daingerfield, -of the Bingham Engineering Works, where, within the hour, he had in -his characteristically decisive fashion purchased the machinery for a -ten-stamp mill and an electric light plant capability of generating -two hundred and fifty horsepower two electric hoists with cable, half a -dozen steel ore buckets, as many more ore-cars with five hundred feet -of rail, a blacksmithing outfit, a pump, motors, sheet steel to line the -crushing-bins and form shovelling platforms for the ore in the workings, -picks, shovels drills, and so forth. It was a nice order and Dangerfield -fwas delighted. - -"This is going to cost you about half your fortune, Jack," he informed -Webster when the order was finally made up. - -Webster grinned. "You don't suppose I'm chump enough to pay for it now, -do you, Joe?" he queried. - -"You'll pay at least half, my son. We love you, Jack; we honour and -respect you; but this stuff is going to Central America, and in the -event of your premature demise, we might not get it back. They have wars -down there, you know, and when those people are war-mad, they destroy -things." - -"I know. But I'm going first to scout the country, Joe, and in the -meantime keep all this stuff in your warehouse until I authorize you by -cable to ship, when you can draw on me at sight for the entire invoice -with bill of lading attached. If, upon investigation, I find that this -mine isn't all my partner thinks it is, I'll cable a cancellation, and -you can tear that nice fat order up and forget it. I don't intend to -have you and that gang of penny-pinching card-room engineers up at the -Engineers' Club remind me of the old adage that a fool and his money are -soon parted." - -From Daingerfield's office Webster went forth to purchase a -steamer-trunk, his railway ticket and sleeping-car reservation--after -which he returned to his hotel and set about packing for the journey. - -He sighed regretfully as he folded his brand-new raiment, packed it -in moth balls in his wardrobe-trunk, and ordered the trunk sent to a -storage warehouse. - -"Well, I was a giddy old bird of paradise for one night, at least," he -comforted himself, as he dressed instead in a suit of light-weight olive -drab goods in which he hoped to enjoy some measure of cool comfort until -he should reach Buenaventura and thus become acquainted with the foibles -of fashion in that tropical centre. - -The remainder of the afternoon he spent among his old friends of the -Engineers' Club, who graciously tendered him a dollar table d'hote -dinner that evening and saw him off for his train at ten o'clock, -with many a gloomy prophecy as to his ultimate destiny--the prevailing -impression appearing to be that he would return to them in a neat long -box labelled: _This Side Up--With Care--Use No Hooks_. - -Old Neddy Jerome, as sour and cross as a setting hen,' accompanied him -in the taxicab to the station, loth to let him escape and pleading to -the last, in a forlorn hope that Jack Webster's better nature would -triumph over his friendship and boyish yearning for adventure. He clung -to Webster's arm as they walked slowly down the track and paused at -the steps of the car containing the wanderer's reservation, just as a -porter, carrying some hand-baggage, passed them by, followed by a girl -in a green tailor-made suit. As she passed, John Stuart Webster looked -fairly into her face, started as if bee-stung, and hastily lifted -his hat. The girl briefly returned his scrutiny with sudden interest, -decided she did not know him, and reproved him with a glance that even -pass old Neddy Jerome did not fail to assimilate. - -[Illustration: 0075] - -"Wow, wow!" he murmured. "The next time you try that, Johnny Webster, be -sure you're right----" - -"Good land o' Goshen, Neddy," Webster replied. "Fry me in bread-crumbs, -if that isn't the same girl! Come to think of it, the conductor who gave -me her name told me her ticket called for a stop-over in Denver! Let me -go, Neddy. Quick! Good-bye, old chap. I'm on my way." - -"Nonsense! The train doesn't pull out for seven minutes yet. Who is -she, John, and why does she excite you so?" Jerome recognized in -his whimsical friend the symptoms of a most unusual malady--with -Webster--and so he held the patient fast by the arm. - -"Who is she, you ancient horse-thief? Why, if I have my way--and I'm -certainly going to try to have it--she's the future Mrs. W." - -"Alas! Poor Yorick, I knowed him well," Jerome answered. "Take a tip -from the old man, John. I've been through the mill and I know. Never -marry a girl that can freeze you with a glance. It isn't safe, and -remember, you're not as young as you used to be. By the way, what's the -fair charmer's name?" - -"I've got it down in my memorandum book, but I can't recall it this -minute--Spanish name." - -"John, my dear boy, be careful," Neddy Jerome counseled. "Stick to your -own kind of people----" - -"I'll not. That girl is as trim and neat and beautiful as a newly minted -guinea. What do I want with a Scotch lassie six feet tall and a believer -in hell-fire and infant damnation?" - -"Is this--a--er--a nice girl, John?" - -"How do I know--I mean, how dare you ask? Of course she's nice. Can't -you see she is? And besides, why should you be so fearful----" - -"I'll have you understand, young man, that I have considerable interest -in the girl you're going to marry. Drat it, boy, if you marry the wrong -girl she may interfere with my plans. She may be a spoil-sport and -not want to live up at the mine--after you return from this wild-goose -chase, dragging your fool tail behind you. By the way, where did you -first meet this girl? Who introduced you?" - -"I haven't met her, and I've never been introduced," Webster complained, -and poured forth the tale of his adventure on the train from Death -Valley. Neddy was very sympathetic. - -"Well, no wonder she didn't recognize you when you saluted her -to-night," he agreed. "Thought you were another brute of a man trying -to make a mash. By thunder, Jack, I'm afraid you made a mistake when you -shed your whiskers and buried your old clothes. You don't look nearly so -picturesque and romantic now, and maybe she'll refuse to believe you're -the same man!" - -"I don't care what she thinks. I found her, I lost her, and I've found -her again; and I'm not going to take any further chances. I wired -a detective agency to pick her up in Salt Lake and trail her to New -Orleans and get me all the dope on her, while I was in temporary -retirement with my black eye. Brainless fellows, these amateur -detectives. I'll never employ one again. I described her -accurately--told them she was beautiful and that she was wearing a green -tailor-made suit; and will you believe me, Neddy, they reported to me -next day that their operative failed to pick her up at the station? He -said three beautiful women got off the train there, and that none of -them wore a green dress." - -"Well, it's just barely possible she may have another dress," Jerome -retorted slyly. "Women are funny that way. They change their dresses -about as often as they change their minds." - -"Why, that's so," Webster answered innocently. "I never thought of -that." - -The porter, having delivered his charge's baggage in her section, was -returning for another tip. Webster reached out and accosted him. - -"Henry," he said, "do you want to earn a dollar?" - -"Yes, sah. Yes indeed, sah.' - -"Where did you stow that young lady's hand-baggage?" - -"Lower Six, Car Nine, sah." - -"I have a weakness for coloured boys who are quick at figures," Webster -declared, and dismissed the porter with the gratuity. He turned -to Jerome. "Neddy, I feel that I am answering the call to a great -adventure," he declared solemnly. - -"I know it, Jack. Good-bye, son, and God bless you. If your fit of -insanity passes within ninety days, cable me; and if you're broke, stick -the Colorado Con' for the cable tolls." - -"Good old wagon!" Webster replied affectionately. Then he shook -hands and climbed aboard the train. The instant he disappeared in the -vestibule, however, Neddy Jerome waddled rapidly down the track to Car -Nine, climbed aboard, and made his way to Lower Six. The young lady in -the green tailor-made suit was there, looking idly out the window. - -"Young lady," Jerome began, "may I presume to address you for a moment -on a matter of very great importance to you? Don't be afraid of me, my -dear. I'm old enough to be your father, and besides, I'm one of the -nicest old men you ever met." - -She could not forbear a smile. "Very well, sir," she replied. - -Neddy Jerome produced a pencil and card. "Please write your name on -this card," he pleaded, "and I'll telegraph what I want to say to you. -There'll be a man coming through this car in a minute, and I don't want -him to see me here--besides which, the train leaves in half a minute, -and I live in Denver and make it a point to be home and in bed not later -than ten each night. Please trust me, young lady." ^ - -The young lady did not trust him, however, although she wrote on the -card. Jerome thanked her and fled as fast as his fat old legs could -carry him. Under the station arc he read the card. - -"'Henrietta Wilkins,'" he murmured. "By the gods, one would never -suspect a name like that belonged to a face like that. I know that name -is going to jar Jack and cause him to seethe with ambition to change it. -He'll trim the _Henrietta_ down to plain _Retta_, and change _Wilkins to -Webster!_ By jingo, it _would_ be strange if that madman persuaded -her to marry him. I hope he does. If I'm any judge of character, Jack -Webster won't be cruel enough to chain that vision to Sobrante; and -besides, she's liable to make him decide who's most popular with -him--Henrietta or Billy Geary. If she does, I'll play Geary to lose. -However, if that confirmed old bachelor wants to chase rainbows, I might -as well help him out, since whichever way the cat jumps I can't lose. -It's to my interest to have him marry that girl, or any girl, for that -matter, because she'll have something to say about the advisability of -kicking aside what amounts, approximately, to thirty thousand a year, -in order to sink the family bankroll in a wildcat mine in the suburbs -of hell. Well! Needs must when the devil drives." And he entered the -station telegraph office and commenced to write. - -An hour later Miss Dolores Ruey, alias Henrietta Wilkins, was handed -this remarkably verbose and truly candid telegram: - -Denver, Colo., Aug. 7, 1913. Miss Henrietta Wilkins, - -Lower 6, Car 9, - -On board train 24. - -Do you recall the bewhiskered, ragged individual you met on the S.P., -L.A. & S.L. train in Death Valley ten days ago? He thrashed a man who -annoyed you, but owing to a black eye and his generally unpresentable -appearance, he remained in his stateroom the remainder of the trip -and you did not see him again until to-night. He lifted his hat to you -to-night, and you almost killed him with a look. It did not occur to him -that you would not recognize him disguised as a gentleman, and he lifted -his hat on impulse. Do not hold it against him. The sight of you again -set his reason tottering on its throne, and he told me his sad story. - -This man, John Stuart Webster, is wealthy, single, forty, fine, and -crazy as a March hare. He is in love with you. - -You might do worse than fall in love with him. He is the best mining -engineer in the world, and he is now aboard the same train with you, -en route to New Orleans, thence to take the steamer to Buenaventura, -Sobrante, C. A., where he is to meet another lunatic and finance a hole -in the ground. He has just refused a thirty-thousand-dollar-a-year job -from me to answer the call of a mistaken friendship. I do not want him -to go to Sobrante. If you marry him, he will not. If you do not marry -him, you still might arrange to make him listen to reason. If you can -induce him to come to work for me within the next ninety days, whether -you marry him or not, I will give you five thousand dollars the day he -reports on the job. Please bear in mind that he does not know I am doing -this. If he did, he would kill me, but business is business, and this -is a plain business proposition. I am putting you wise, so you will know -your power and can exercise it if you care to earn the money. If -not, please forget about it. At any rate, please do me the favour to -communicate with me on the subject, if at all interested. - -Edward P. Jerome. - -President Colorado Consolidated Mines, Limited. - -Care Engineers' Club. - -The girl read and reread this telegram several times, and presently a -slow little smile commenced to creep around the corners of her adorable -mouth, for out of the chaos of emotions induced by Ned Jerome's amazing -proposition, the humour of the situation had detached itself to the -elimination of everything else. - -"I believe that amazing old gentleman is absolutely dependable," was the -decision at which she ultimately arrived, and calling for a telegraph -blank, she wired the old schemer: - -Five thousand not enough money. Make it ten thousand and I will -guarantee to deliver the man within ninety days. I stay on this train to -New Orleans. - -Henrietta. - -That telegram arrived at the Engineers' Club about midnight, and -pursuant to instructions, the night barkeeper read it and phoned the -contents to Neddy Jerome, who promptly telephoned his reply to the -telegraph office, and then sat on the edge of his bed, scratching his -toes and meditating. - -"That's a remarkable young woman," he decided, "and business to her -finger-tips. Like the majority of her sex, she's out for the dough. -Well, I've done my part, and it's now up to Jack Webster to protect -himself in the clinches and breakaways." - -About daylight a black hand passed Neddy Jerome's reply through the -berth-curtains to Dolores Ruey. She read: - -Accept. When you deliver the goods, communicate with me and get your -money. - -Jerome. - -She snuggled back among the pillows and considered the various aspects -of this amazing contract which she had undertaken with a perfect -stranger. Hour after hour she lay there, thinking over this. - -As she passed, John Stuart Webster looked fairly into her face, v -started as if bee-stung, and hastily lifted his hat preposterous -situation, and the more she weighed it, the more interesting and -attractive the proposition appeared. But one consideration troubled her. -How would the unknown knight manage an introduction? Or, if he failed to -manage it, how was she to overcome that obstacle? - -"Oh, dear," she murmured, "I do hope he's brave." - -She need not have worried. Hours before, the object of her thought had -settled all that to his own complete satisfaction, and as a consequence -was sleeping peacefully and gaining strength for whatever of fortune, -good or ill, the morrow might bring forth. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -|DAY was dawning in Buenaventura, republic of Sobrante, as invariably it -dawns in the tropics--without extended preliminary symptoms. The soft, -silvery light of a full moon that had stayed out scandalously late had -merged imperceptibly into gray; the gray was swiftly yielding place to a -faint crimson that was spreading and deepening upward athwart the east. - -In the Calle Nueva a game cock, pride of an adoring family of Sobrante's -lower class, crowed defiance to a neighbouring bird. A dog barked. From -the patch of vivid green at the head of the Calle San Rosario a troupe -of howling monkeys raised a sun-up cheer that marked the finish of a -night of roystering; from wattled hut and adobe _casa_ brunette women -in red calico wrappers came forth, sleepy-eyed and dishevelled; -and presently from a thousand little adobe fireplaces in a thousand -backyards thin blue spirals of smoke mounted--incense to the household -gods of Sobrante--Tortilla and Frijoles. Brown men, black men, -lemon-tinted men, and white men whose fingernails showed blue instead -of white at the base, came to the doors of their respective habitations, -leaned against them, lighted post-breakfast cigarettes, and waited for -somebody to start something. - -To these indolent watchers of the dawn was vouchsafed presently the -sight of Senora Concepcion Josefina Morelos on her way to early mass at -the Catedral de la Vera Cruz. Men called to each other, when she passed, -that Senora Morelos shortly would seek, in a Carmelite convent, surcease -from the grief caused by the premature demise of her husband, General -Pablo Morelos, at the hands of a firing-squad in the _cuartel_ yard, -as a warning to others of similar kidney to forbear and cease to tamper -with the machinery of politics. And when Senora Morelos had passed, came -Alberto Guzman with two smart mules hitched to a dilapidated street-car; -came Don Juan Cafetro, _peseta_-less, still slightly befuddled from -his potations of the night before, and raising the echoes in the _calle_ -with a song singularly alien to his surroundings:= - -```Green were the fields where my forefathers dwelt-- - -```O, Erin, mavourneen, slan laght go bragh!= - -At the theatre we sit patiently waiting for the stage electrician to -switch on the footlights and warn us that the drama is about to begin. -Let us, in a broader sense, appropriate that cue to mark the beginning -of the drama with which this story deals; instead of a stage, however, -we have the republic of Sobrante; in lieu of footlights we have the sun -popping up out of the Caribbean Sea. - -Those actors whose acquaintance we have so briefly made thus far must be -presumed to be supers crossing the stage and loitering thereon while the -curtain is down. Now, therefore, let us drive them into the wings while -the curtain rises on a tropical scene. - -In the _patio_ of Mother Jenks's establishment in the alle de -Concordia, No. 19, the first shafts of morning light were filtering -obliquely through the orange trees and creeping in under the deep, -Gothic-arched veranda flanking the western side of the _patio_, to -reveal a dusky maiden of more or less polyglot antecedents, asleep upon -a bright, parti-coloured blanket spread over a wicker couch. - -Presently, through the silent reaches of the Calle de Concordia, the -sound of a prodigious knocking and thumping echoed, as of some fretful -individual seeking admission at the street door of El Buen Amigo, by -which euphonious designation Mother Jenks's caravansary was known to the -public of Buenaventura. In the second story, front, a window slid back -and a woman's voice, husky with that huskiness that speaks so accusingly -of cigarettes and alcohol, demanded: - -"_Quien es?_ Who is it? _Que quiere usted?_ Wot do yer want?" - -"Ye might dispinse wit' that paraqueet conversation whin addhressin' the -likes av me," a voice replied. "'Tis me--Cafferty. I have a cablegram -Leber give me to deliver----" - -"Gawd's truth! Would yer wake the 'ole 'ouse with yer'ammering?" - -"All right. I'll not say another worrd!" - -A minute passed; then the same husky voice, the owner of which had -evidently descended from her sleeping chamber above, spoke in a steadily -rising crescendo from a room just off the veranda: - -"Car-may-lee-ta-a-a!" - -We can serve no useful purpose by endeavouring to conceal from the -reader, even temporarily, the information that Carmelita was the -sleeping naiad on the couch; also that she continued to sleep, for hers -was that quality of slumber which is the heritage of dark blood and -defies any commotion short of that incident to a three-alarm fire. Three -times the husky voice addressed Carmelita with cumulative vehemence; but -Carmelita slept on, and presently the husky voice ceased to cry aloud -for her. Followed the sound of bare feet thudding across the floor. - -Forth from the house came Mother Jenks, a redfaced, coarse-jowled, -slightly bearded lady of undoubted years and indiscretion, in -curl-papers and nightgown, barefoot and carrying a bucket. One scornful -glance at the sleeping Carmelita, and mother Jenks crossed to the -fountain plashing in the centre of the _patio_, filled her bucket, -stepped to the veranda and dashed three gallons of tepid water into -Carme-lita's face. - -_That_ awakened Carmelita--Mother Jenks's raucous "Git up, yer bloody -wench! Out, yer 'ussy, an' cook _almuerzo_. Gawd strike me pink, if I -don't give yer the sack for this--an' sleepin' on my best new blenkit!" -being in the nature of a totally unnecessary exordium. - -Carmelita shrieked and fled, while Mother Jenks scuttled along in -pursuit like a belligerent old duck, the while she heaped opprobrium -upon Carmelita and all her tribe, the republic of Sobrante, its capital, -its government officials, and the cable company: Finally she disappeared -into El Buen Amigo with a hearty Cockney oath at her own lack of -foresight in ever permitting her sainted 'Enery to set foot on a foreign -shore. - -Once inside, Mother Jenks proceeded down a tiled hallway to the -_cantina_ of her hostelry and opened the street door a few inches. -Without the portal stood Don Juan Cafetro, of whom a word or two before -proceeding. - -To begin, Don Juan Cafetro was not his real name, but rather a free -Spanish translation of the Gaelic, John Cafferty. As would be indicated -by the song he was singing when first we made his acquaintance, coupled -with the unstable condition of his legs, Mr. Cafferty was an exile of -Erin with a horrible thirst. He had first arrived in Sobrante some five -years before, as section-boss in the employ of the little foreign-owned -narrow-gauge railway which ran from Buenaventura on the Caribbean coast -to San Miguel de Padua, up-country where the nitrate beds were located. -Prior to his advent the railroad people had tried many breeds of -section-boss without visible results, until a Chicago man, who had come -to Sobrante to install an intercommunicating telephone system in the -Government buildings, suggested to the superintendent of the road, -who was a German, that the men made for bosses come from Erin's isle; -wherefore Mr. Cafferty had been imported at a price of five dollars a -day gold. Result--a marked improvement in the road-bed and consequently -the train-schedules, and the ultimate loss of the Cafferty soul. - -Don Juan, with the perversity of the Celt, and contrary to precept and -example, forbore to curse Sobrante. On the contrary, he liked Sobrante -immediately upon arrival and so stated in public--this unusual state of -affairs doubtless being due to the fact that his job furnished much of -excitement and interest, for his driving tactics were not calculated to -imbue in his dusky section-hands a love for the new section-boss; and -from the day he took charge until he lost the job, the life of Don Juan -Cafetro had been equivalent in intrinsic value to two squirts of swamp -water--possibly one. - -Something in the climate of Sobrante must have appealed to a touch of -_laissez faire_ in Don Juan's amiable nature, for in the course of time -he had taken unto himself, without bell or book, after the fashion of -the proletariat of Sobrante, the daughter of one Estebn Manuel Enrique -Jos Maria Pasqual y Miramontes, an estimable peon who was singularly -glad to have his daughter off his hands and no questions asked. -Following the fashion of the country, however, Esteban had forthwith -moved the remainder of his numerous progeny under the mantle of Don Juan -Cafetro's philanthropy, and resigned a position which for many years he -had not enjoyed--to wit: salting and packing green hides at a local -_abattoir_. This foolhardy economic move had so incensed Don Juan that -in a fit of pique he spurned his father-in-law (we must call Esteban -something and so why split hairs?) under the tails of his _camisa_, with -such vigour as to sever forever the friendly relations hitherto existing -between the families. Mrs. Cafferty (again we transgress, but what of -it?) subsequently passed away in childbirth, and no sooner had she been -decently buried than Don Juan took a week off to drown his sorrows. - -In this condition he had encountered Esteban Manuel Enrique Jos Maria -Pasqual y Miramontes and called him out of his name--for which there -appears to be little excuse, in view of the many the latter possessed. -In the altercation that ensued Esteban, fully convinced that he had -received the nub end of the transaction from start to finish, cut Don -Juan severely in the region of the umbilicus; Don Juan had thereupon -slain Esteban with a .44-calibre revolver, and upon emerging from -the railroad hospital a month later had been tried by a Sobrantean -magistrate and fined the sum of twenty thousand dollars, legal tender of -the Republic of Sobrante. Of course he had paid it off within six months -from his wages as section-boss, but the memory of the injustice always -rankled in him, and gradually he moved down the scale of society from -section-boss to day labourer, day labourer to tropical tramp, and -tropical tramp to beach-comber, in which latter state he had now existed -for several months. - -While waiting to round out the brief period of existence which drink and -the devil had left him, this poor human fragment had become a protg of -Ignatz Leber, an Alsatian, manager for a German importing and -exporting house, and agent for the cable company. By the grace of the -philanthropic Ignatz, Don Juan slept under Leber's warehouse and ate in -his kitchen. - -To return to Mother Jenks. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -|BEFORE Don Juan could even utter a matutinal greeting, Mother Jenks -laid finger to lip and silenced him. "Go back to Leber's and return in -an hour," she whispered. "I 'ave my reasons for wantin' that bloomin' -cablegram delivered later." - -Don Juan hadn't the least idea what Mother Jenks's reasons might be, but -he presumed she was up to some chicanery, and so he winked his bloodshot -eye very knowingly and nodded his acquiescence in the program; whereupon -Mother Jenks started to close the door. Instantly Don Juan's foot was in -the jamb; in a hoarse whisper he said: - -"Whilst ye're askin' favours, woman dear, ye might have the kindness to -ask me if I have a mouth." - -"Bloomin' well I knows yer 'ave a mouth, for bloomin' well I smell yer -blawsted breath," Mother Jenks retorted. However, the present was no -time to raise an issue with Don Juan, and so she slipped behind the bar -of her _cantina_, poured five fingers of _aguardiente_, the local brand -of disturbance, and handed it to Don Juan through the crack in the door. - -"Here's all the hair off your head," Don Juan Cafetro saluted her -amiably. He tossed it off at a gulp, handed Mother Jenks the glass, and -departed with a whispered promise to return in an hour. - -When he had gone, Mother Jenks went behind the bar and fortified herself -with her morning's morning--which rite having been performed, her -sleep-benumbed brain livened up immediately. - -"Gord's truth!" the lady murmured. "An' me about to turn him adrift for -the lawst fortnight! Well for 'im 'e allers hadmired the picture o' -my sainted 'Enery, as was the spittin' image of his own fawther. -'Evings!'Ell's bells! But that was a bit of a tight squeak! Just as I'm -fully conwinced 'e's beat it an' I'm left 'oldin' the sack, all along o' -my kindness of 'eart, 'e gets the cablegram 'e's been lookin' for this -two months past; an' 'e allers claimed as 'ow any time'e got a cablegram -it'd be an answer to 'is letter, with money to foller! My word, but that -was touch an' go! An' yet Willie's got such a tykin' w'y about him, I -might 'ave knowed 'e was a gentleman!" - -Still congratulating herself upon her good fortune in intercepting Don -Juan Cafetro, Mother Jenks proceeded upstairs to her chamber, clothed -herself, and adjourned to the kitchen, where Carmelita was already -engaged in the preparation of the morning meal. After giving orders -for an extra special breakfast for two, Mother Jenks returned to her -_cantina_, and formally opened the same for the business of that day -and night; while a lank Jamaica negro swept out the room and cleaned the -cuspidors, she washed and polished her glassware and set her back bar in -order. To her here came presently, via the tiled hallway, the object of -her solicitude, a young man on the sunny side of thirty. At the first -glance one suspected this individual to be a member of the Caucasian -race; at the second glance one verified this suspicion. He was thin -for one of his height and breadth of chest; in colour his countenance -resembled that of a sick Chinaman. His hair was thick and wavy but -lustreless; his dark blue eyes carried a hint of jaundice; and a -generous mouth, beneath an equally generous upper lip, gave ample ground -for the suspicion that while Mr. William Geary's speech denoted him an -American citizen, at least one of his maternal ancestors had been wooed -and won by an Irishman. An old panama hat, sad relic of a prosperous -past, a pair of soiled buckskin pumps, a suit of unbleached linen -equally befouled, and last but not least, the remnants of a smile that -much hard luck could never quite obliterate, completed his attire--and -to one a stranger in the tropics would appear to constitute a complete -inventory of Mr. Geary's possessions. An experienced person, however, -would have observed immediately that Mother Jenks's seedy guest had -been bitten deeply and often by mosquitoes and was, in consequence, the -proprietor of a low malarial fever, with its concomitant chills. - -"_Dulce corazon mio_, I extend a greeting," he called at the entrance. -"I trust you rested well last night, Mother Jenks, and that no evil -dreams were born of your midnight repast of _frijoles refritos_, -marmalade, and arf-an'-arf!" - -"Chop yer spoofin', Willie," Mother Jenks simpered. "My heye! So I'm yer -sweet'eart, eh? Yer wheedlin' blighter, makin' love to a girl as is old -enough to be yer mother!" - -"A woman," Mr. Geary retorted sagely and not a whit abashed, "is at the -apex of her feminine charms at thirty-seven." - -He knew his landlady to be not a day under fifty, but such is the ease -with which the Irish scatter their blarney, and such the vanity of -the gentler sex (for despite Mother Jenks's assault upon Carmelita, we -include the lady in that pleasing category), that neither Billy -Geary nor Mother Jenks regarded this pretty speech in the light of an -observation immaterial, inconsequential and not germane to the matter -at issue. For Mother Jenks was the eternal feminine, and it warmed the -cockles of her heart to be told she was only thirty-seven, even though -reason warned her that the compliment was not garnished with the sauce -of sincerity. As for Billy, the sight of Mother Jenks swallowing this -specious bait, together with hook, line, and sinker, always amused him -and for the nonce took his mind off his own troubles. Nevertheless, -there was a deeper reason for his blarney. This morning, watching the -tell tale tinge of pleasure underlying the alcohol-begotten hue of -the good creature's face, he felt almost ashamed of his own -heartlessness--almost, but not quite. - -Let us take Billy's view of his own case and view his mendacity with a -kindly and tolerant eye. For two months he had existed entirely because -of the leniency of Mother Jenks in the matter of credit. - -He could not pay her cash, devoutly as he hoped to do some day, and he -considered it of the most vital importance that in the interim he should -somehow survive. Therefore, in lieu of cash he paid her compliments, -which she snapped up greedily. - -In the cold gray dawn of the morning after Mother Jenks always detected -the bug in Billy's amber and vowed to rout him bag and baggage that very -day; but when one is fond of blarney, it is hard indeed to destroy the -source of it; and while Mother Jenks's courage had mounted to the point -of action many a time, in the language of the sporting extra, Billy -had always "beaten her to the punch"; for when instinct warned him that -Mother Jenks was about to talk business, he could always rout her by -declaring she was pencilling her eyebrows or rouging her cheeks. - -An inventive genius was Billy. He never employed the same defensive -tactics two days in succession, and when personal flattery threatened -to fail him, a large crayon reproduction of the late Henry Jenks, which -hung over the back bar, was a never-failing source of inspiration. - -This was the "sainted'Enery" previously referred to by Mother Jenks. He -had been a sergeant in Her Brittanic Majesty's Royal Horse Artillery, -and upon retiring to the Reserve had harkened to a proposition to -emigrate to Sobrante and accept a commission as colonel of artillery -with the Government forces then in the throes of a revolutionary attack. -The rebels had triumphed, and as a result 'Enery had been sainted via the -customary expeditious route; whereupon his wife had had recourse to her -early profession of barmaid, and El Buen Amigo had resulted. - -However, let us return to our sheeps, as Mr. Geary would have expressed -it. Seemingly the effect of Billy's compliment was instantly evident, -for Mother Jenks set out two glasses and a bottle. - -"I know yer a trifler, Willy Geary," she simpered, "but if I do s'y it -as shouldn't, I was accounted as 'andsome a barmaid as you'd find in -Bristol town. I've lost my good looks, what with grief an' worritin' -since losin' my sainted 'Enery, but I was 'andsome oncet." - -"I can well believe it, Mother--since you are handsome still! For my -part," he continued confidentially, as with shaking hand he filled his -brandy-glass, "you'll excuse this drunkard's drink, Mother, but I -need it; I had the shakes again last night--for my part, I prefer the -full-blown rose to the bud." - -Mother Jenks fluttered like a _debutante_ as she poured her drink. They -touched glasses, calloused worldlings that they were. - -"'Ow," said Mother Jenks, toasting the philandering wretch. - -"How!" He tossed off his drink. It warmed and strengthened him, after -his night of chills and fever, and brazenly he returned to the attack. - -"Changing the subject from feminine grace and charm to manly strength -and virtue, I've been marking lately the resolute poise of your martyred -husband's head on his fine military shoulders. There was a man, if I may -judge from his photograph, that would fight a wildcat." - -"Oh, m'ybe 'e wouldn't!" Mother Jenks hastened to declare. "You know, -Willie, I was present w'en they shot 'im, a-waitin' to claim 'is body. -'E kisses me good-bye, an' says 'e: 'Brace up, ol' girl. Remember your -'usband's been a sergeant in 'Er Majesty's Royal 'Orse Artillery, an' -don't let the bloody blighters see yer cry.' Then 'e walks out front, -with 'is fine straight back to the wall, draws a circle on 'is blue -tunic with white chalk an' says: 'Shoot at that, yer yeller-bellied -bounders, an' be damned to yer!'" - -"To be the widow of such a gallant son of Mars," Billy declared, "is a -greater honour than being the wife of a duke." - -For the sake of 'Enery's memory Mother Jenks squeezed out a tear. Billy -would have egged her on to a lachrymal flood, for he knew she would -enjoy it, but at that moment entered Carmelita, to announce breakfast. - -Mother Jenks, recalling her husband's last advice, declined to let even -a Sobrantean girl see her weep. She composed herself instantly, filled -her glass again, and pushed the bottle to Billy. - -"'Ave another peg with Mother, Willie." - -"I'll go you, Mother, although it's really my turn to set 'em up. I would -if I had the price. However, I'm expecting action on that concession of -mine pretty soon, Mother, and when I get straightened out, they'll date -time in the Calle de Concordia from the spending toot I'll inaugurate. -Ah, Mother," he added with a note of genuine gratitude and sincerity, -"you've been awfully good to me. I don't know what I'd have done without -you." He laid his hand on her fat arm. "Mother, one of these days I'll -get mine, and when I do I'm going to stake you to a nice little pub back -in Bristol." - -She smiled at him with motherly tenderness and shook her head. In a -concrete niche in the mortuary of the Catedrl de la Vera Cruz the bones -of her sainted 'Enery reposed, and when her hour came she would lie -beside him. Moreover, she was a tropical tramp. She had grown to like -Sobrante, for all her railing against it, and she knew she would never -see the chalk cliffs of Albion again. - -"Yer a sweet boy, Willie," she told him, "an' I'd trust yer for double -the score, s'help me. 'Eving knows I 'aven't much, but wot I 'ave I -shares freely with them I likes. I 'ave a brace o' duck heggs, 'am an' -'ot cakes, Willie, an' yer 'll breakfuss with Mother. Duck heggs, 'am an' -'ot cakes, Willie. 'Ow's that? Eh, yer precious byby." - -Billy's glistening eyes testified to the profundity of his feelings -at the prospect of this Lucullan feast. It had been long since Mother -Jenks's larder had yielded him anything more stable than brown beans, -tortillas, fried onions, and an occasional dab of marmalade, and the -task of filling in the corners of his appetite with free tropical fruit -had long since grown irksome. - -Mother Jenks preceded him into the shady side of the veranda, where -ordinarily she was wont to breakfast in solitary state. Her table was -set for two this morning, however, but this extraordinary circumstance -was lost sight of by the shameless Billy in the prospect of one more -real meal before the chills and fever claimed their own. He flipped an -adventurous cockroach off the table and fell to with fine appetite. - -He was dallying with a special brew of coffee, with condensed milk in -it, when the Jamaica negro entered from the _cantina_ to announce Don -Juan Cafe-tro with a cablegram. - -"A cablegram!" Mother Jenks cried. "Gord's truth! I'll wager the pub -it's for you, Willie." - -"I wonder! Can it be possible it's come at last?" Billy cried -incredulously. - -"I'd not be surprised," Mother Jenks replied. "Bob"--turning to the -negro, and addressing him in her own private brand of Spanish--"give Don -Juan a drink, if 'e 'asn't helped 'imself while yer back is turned, an' -bring the cablegram 'ere." - -Within the minute Bob returned with a long yellow envelope, which he -handed Mother Jenks. Without so much as a glance at the superscription, -she handed it to Billy Geary, who tore it open and read: - -Los Angeles, Calif., U. S. A., August 16, 1913. - -Henrietta Wilkins, - -Calle de Concordia, No. 19, - -Buenaventura, - -Sobrante, C. A. - -Leaving to-day to visit you. Will cable from New Orleans exact date -arrival. - -Dolores. - -The shadow of deep disappointment settled over Billy's face as he read. -Mother Jenks noted it instantly. - -"Wot's 'e got to s'y, Willie?" she demanded. - -"It isn't a he. It's a she," Billy replied. "Besides, the cablegram -isn't for me at all. It's for one Henrietta Wilkins, Calle de Concordia, -Number Nineteen, and who the devil Henrietta Wilkins may be is a mystery -to me. Ever have any boarder by that name, Mother?" - -Mother Jenks's red face had gone white. "'Enrietta Wilkins was my -maiden nyme, Willie," she confessed soberly, "an' there's only one human -as 'ud cable me or write me by that nyme. Gord, Willie, wot's 'appened?" - -"I'll read it to you, Mother." - -Billy read the message aloud; and when he had finished, to his -amazement, Mother Jenks laid her head on the table and began to weep. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -|WHEN Billy Geary could reorganize himself, as it were, after the shock -incident to his discovery that the cablegram was not for him after all, -he turned his attention to Mother Jenks. Without quite realizing why he -did so, Billy decided that fear and not grief was at the bottom of the -good creature's distress, and in his awkward, masculine way he placed -his arm around Mother Jenks's shoulders, shook her gently, and bade her -remember that chaos might come and go again, but he, the said William -Geary, would remain her true and steadfast friend in any and all -emergencies that might occur. - -"Gor' bless yer heart, Willie," Mother Jenks sniffled. "If this was only -somethink I could hentrust to a man! But it ain't." - -"Well, suppose you tell me what it is and let me be the judge," Billy -suggested. "I haven't got one _centavo_ to rub against the other, and -on present form and past performances I'm the last man in the world to -handle an affair between two women, but--I have a head on my shoulders, -and nobody ever had reason to suspect that head of being empty. Perhaps, -if you care to give me your confidence, I may be of service to you, -Mother." - -"Willie," his landlady wailed, "I dunno wot in 'ell yer ever goin' to -think o' me w'en I tell ye wot I've been up to this past fifteen year." - -"Whatever you've been up to, Mother, it was a kind and charitable -deed--of that much I am certain," Billy replied loftily and--to his own -surprise--sincerely. - -"As Gord is my judge, Willie, it started out that w'y," moaned Mother -Jenks, and she squeezed Billy's hand as if from that yellow, shaking -member she would draw aid and comfort. "'Er nyme is Dolores Ruey." - -"Any relation to the Ruey family of Buenaventura?" - -"A first cousin, Willie. 'Er father was Don Ricardo Ruey, _prsidente_ -av this blasted 'ell on earth w'en me an' my sainted 'Enery first come -to Buenaventura. 'E was too good for the yeller-bellied beggars; 'e -tried to do somethink for them an' run the government on the square, an' -they couldn't hunderstand, all along o' 'avin' been kicked an' cuffed -by a long line of bloody rotters. It was Don Ricardo as gives my sainted -'Enery 'is commission as colonel in the hartillery. - -"That was all very well, you know, Willie, only Don Ricardo didn't go -far enough. If 'e'd only 'arkened to 'Enery's advice an' imported a lot -o' bloomin' Tommies to serve 'Enery's guns, 'im an' 'Enery never would -'ave faced that firin'-squad. Many's the time 'Enery's said to -me: ''Enrietta, me 'art's broke tryin' to myke gunners out o' them -blackamoors Don Ricardo gives me to serve the screwguns. They've been -born without a sense o' distance!' Gor' bless you, Willie, my sainted -'Enery 'ad no bloomin' use for a range-finder. 'E'd cast 'is eye over -the ground an' then try a shot for distance. M'ybe'e'd be a bit short. -'A bit more elevation, _amigos_,' says 'Enery, an' tries again. This -time 'e's a bit over it, m'ybe, but the third or fourth shot 'e 'as the -range an' stays right on the target. But then, Willie, as 'Enery used -to s'y to me: ''Enrietta, how in blazes can I serve six guns? How can a -colonel of hartillery come down off 'is 'orse an do a gunner's work? It -ain't dignified.'" - -Billy nodded. He had heard that story so often in the past that he knew -it by heart; from all he could learn the sainted 'Enery quite resembled -a horse, in that he had room in his head for but one thought at a time. -As a gunner-sergeant he was doubtless a loss to the British service, but -as a colonel of So-brantean artillery he had tried to forget that once -he had been a gunner-sergeant! - -"You've 'eard me tell," Mother Jenks continued, "'ow the rebels got -'arf a dozen Hamerican gunners--deserters from the navy--an' blew -'Enery's battery to bits, 'ow the Government forces fell back upon -Buenaventura, an' as 'ow w'en the dorgs begun to wonder if they mightn't -lose, they quit by the 'undreds an' went over to the rebel side, leavin' -Don Ricardo an' 'Enery an' m'ybe fifty o' the gentry in the palace. In -course they fought to a finish; 'ristocrats, all of them, they 'ad to -die fightin' or facin' a firin'-squad." - -Again Billy nodded. He had heard the tale before, including the recital -of the sainted 'Enery's gallant dash from the blazing palace in an -effort to save Don Ricardo's only child, a girl of seven, and of his -capture and subsequent execution. - -"That ended the revolution," Mother Jenks concluded. "But 'ere's -somethink I've never told a livin' soul. Shortly before 'Enery was -hexecuted, 'e told me where 'e'd 'id the youngster--in a culvert out on -the Malecon; so I 'ired a four-wheeler an' went out an' rescued the pore -lamb. She'd been 'idin' there thirty-six hours an' was well-nigh dead, -an' as there ain't no tellin' what a mob o' these spiggoties 'll do when -they're excited, I 'id 'er until the harrival o' the next fruit steamer, -w'en I shipped 'er to New Orleans in care o' the stewardess. Hi 'ad 'er -put in the Catholic convent there, for as 'Enery said: ''Enrietta, keep -an eye on the little nipper, an' do yer damndest to see she's raised a -lydy. 'Er father was a gentleman, an' you never want to forget 'e -made you Mrs. Colonel Jenks.' So Hi've made a lydy out o' her, Willie: -education, pianner lessons, paintin', singin', an' deportmint. After she -graduated from the convent, I 'ad her take a course in the Uniwersity o' -California--New Orleans wasn't 'ealthy for'er, an' she needed a chynge -o' climate--an' for the last two years she's been teachin' in the 'igh -school in Los Angeles." - -"And you haven't seen her in all these years?" Geary demanded. - -"Not a look, Willie. She's been after me ever since she graduated from -the convent to let her come 'ome an' wisit me, but Hi've told'er to -wyte--that I'd be comin' soon to wisit her. An' now, s'help me, she -won't wait no longer; she's cornin' to wisit me! Gor', Willie, she's on -her w'y!" - -"So this cablegram would indicate," Geary observed. "Nevertheless, -Mother, I'm at a loss to know why you should feel so cut up over the -impending visit." - -There was real fear in Mother Jenks's tear-dimmed eyes. "I cawn't -let'er see me," she wailed. "I wasn't this w'y w'en my sainted 'Enery -hentrusted the lamb to me; it wasn't until awfter they hexecuted 'Enery -that I commenced to slip--an' now look at me. Look at me, Willie Geary; -look at me, I s'y. Wot do yer see? Aw, don't tell me I'm young an' -'andsome, for I knows wot I am. I'm a frowsy, drunken, disreputable -baggage, with no heducation or nothink. I've raised'er a lydy on -account of 'er bein' born a lydy an' her father bein' good to me an my -'Enery--an' all along, hever since she learned to write me a -letter, I've been 'Enrietta Wilkins to'er, an' Mother Jenks to every -beach-combin' beggar in the Caribbean tropics. I've lied to'er, Willie. -I've wrote 'er as 'ow 'er fawther, before 'e died, give me enough money -to heducate'er like a lydy----" - -Again Mother Jenks's grief overcame her. "An' wot lovin' letters my -darlin' writes me," she sobbed. "Calls me 'er lovin' Aunt 'Enrietta, -an' me--Gor', Willie, I ain't respectable. She's comin' to see me--an' -I cawn't let'er. She mustn't know 'ow I got the money for 'er -heducation--sellin' 'ell-fire to a pack of rotten dorgs an' consortin' -with the scum of this stinkin' 'ole! Oh, Willie, you've got to 'elp me. -I cawn't 'ave'er comin' to El Buen Amigo to see me, an' I cawn't ruin -'er reputation by callin' on 'er in public at the 'Otel Mateo. Oh, Gor', -Willie, Mother's come a cropper." - -Willie agreed with her. He patted the sinful gray head of his landlady -and waited for her to regain her composure, the while he racked his -agile brain for a feasible plan to fit the emergency. He realized it -would be quite useless to argue Mother Jenks into the belief that she -might pull herself together, so to speak, and run the risk of meeting -with her ward; for the old woman had been born in the slums of London -and raised a barmaid. She knew her place. She was not a lady and could -never hope now to associate with one, even in a menial capacity, so -there was an end to it! During the past fifteen years, the lower -Mother Jenks had sunk in the social scale, even of free-and-easy old -Buenaventura, the higher had she raised the one sweet note in her sordid -life; not until the arrival of that cablegram did she realize that -during those fifteen years she had been raising a barrier between her -and the object of her stifled maternal yearnings--a barrier which, to -her class-controlled mind, could never be swept away. - -"She's been picturin' me in 'er mind all these years, Willie--picturin' -a fraud," wailed Mother Jenks. "If she sees me now, wot a shock she'll -get, pore sweetheart--an' 'er the spittin' himage of a hangel. -And oh, Willie, while she don't remember wot I looked like, think o' the -shock if she meets me! In 'er lawst letter she said as 'ow I was the only -hanchor she had in life. Ho, yes. A sweet-lookin' hanchor I am--an' -Hi was 'opin' to die before she found hout. I've got a hanuerism in my -'eart, Willie, so the surgeon on the mail boat tells me, an' w'en I go, -I'll go like--that!" Mother Jenks snapped her cigarette-stained fingers. -"I 'ad the doctor come ashore the last time _La Estrellita_ was in, -on account o' 'im bein' a Hamerican an' up to snuff. An' Hi've got -'ardenin' of the harteries, too. I'm fifty-seven, Willie, an' since -my sainted 'Enery passed away, I 'aven't been no bloomin' hangel." She -wrung her hands. "Oh, w'y in 'ell couldn't them harteries 'ave busted in -time to save my lamb the 'umiliatin' knowledge that she's be'oldin' to -the likes o' me for wot she's got--an' 'ow I got it for'er." - -Billy Geary had a bright idea. "Well," he said, "why not -die--temporarily--if you feel that way about it? You could come back -from the grave after she's gone." - -But Mother Jenks shook her head. "No," she declared. "While Dolores is -self-supportin' now, still, if anythink 'appened an' she was to need -'elp, 'elp is somethin' no ghost can give. Think again, Willie. Gor', -lad, w'ere's yer brains--an' you with your stummick filled to bustin' -with a breakfast fit for a knight o' the bawth." - -"Well," Billy countered thoughtfully, "apparently there's no way of -heading her off before she takes the steamer at New Orleans, so we'll -take it for granted she'll arrive here in due course. About the time -she's due, suppose you run up to San Miguel de Padua for a couple of -weeks and leave me to run El Buen Amigo in your absence. I'll play fair -with you, Mother, so help me. I'll account for every _centavo_. I'll -borrow some decent clothes from Leber the day the steamer gets in; then -I'll go aboard and look over the passenger-list, and if she's aboard, -I'll tell her you closed your house and started for California to visit -her on the last northbound steamer--that her cablegram arrived just -after you had started; that the cable company, knowing I am a friend of -yours, showed me the message and that I took it upon myself to call and -explain that as a result of your departure for the United States it will -be useless for her to land--useless and dangerous, because cholera is -raging in Buenaventura, although the port authorities deny it----" - -"Willie," Mother Jenks interrupted impressively, a ghost of her old -debonair spirit shining through her tears, "yer don't owe me a bloomin' -sixpence! Yer've syved the day, syved my reputation, an' syved a lydy's -peace o' mind. Kiss me, yer precious byby." - -So Billy kissed her--gravely and with filial reverence, for he had long -suspected Mother Jenks of being a pearl cast before swine, and now he -was certain of it. - -"I'll send her back to the United States and promise to cable you to -await her there," Billy continued. "Of course, we can't help it if you -and the cablegram miss connections, and once the young lady is back -in the United States, I dare say she'll have to stay there a couple of -years before she can save the price of another sea voyage. And in the -meantime she may marry----" - -"Or that haneurism or my bally harteries may 'ave turned the trick -before that," Mother Jenks suggested candidly but joyously. "In course -she'll be disappointed, but then disappointment never lays 'eavy on a -young 'eart, Willie; an' bein' disappointed at not seein' a person you -ain't really acquainted with ain't as bad as some disappointments." - -"I guess I know," Billy Geary replied bitterly. "If that cablegram -had only been for me! The only thing worth while I have done in my -twenty-six years of life was to accumulate the best friend a man ever -had--and lose him again because I was a fool and couldn't understand -things without a blueprint! Mother, if my old partner could, by some -miracle, manage to marry this Dolores girl, your arteries and your -aneurisms might bust and be damned, but the girl would be safe." - -"M'ybe," Mother Jenks suggested hopefully, "yer might fix it up for her -w'en I'm gone. From all haccounts 'e's no-end a gentleman." - -"He's a he-man," Mr. Geary declared with conviction. He sighed. "John -Stuart Webster, wherever you are, please write or cable," he murmured. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -|THE ancient bromide to the effect that man proposes but God disposes -was never better exemplified than in the case of John Stuart Webster, -who, having formulated certain daring plans for the morrow and -surrendered himself to grateful slumber in his stateroom aboard the Gulf -States Limited, awoke on that momentous morn to a distinct apprehension -that all was not as it should be with him. His mouth reminded him -vaguely of a bird-and-animal store, and riot and insurrection had broken -out in the geometric centre of his internal economy. - -"I believe I'm going to be too ill to eat breakfast," he told himself. - -By seven o'clock this apprehension had crystallized into certainty. -Webster had spent much of his life far from civilization, and as -a result had found it necessary to acquire more than the layman's -knowledge of rough-and-tumble surgery and the ordinary ills to which -mortal is heir; consequently he was sufficient of a jack-leg doctor to -suspect he was developing a splendid little case of ptomaine poisoning. -He was aided in reaching this conclusion by memories of the dinner his -friends had given him the night before, and at which he had partaken of -a mallard duck, killed out of season and therefore greatly to be prized. -He recalled the waiter's boast that the said duck had been hung for five -days and had reached that state of ripeness and tenderness so greatly -desired by those connoisseurs of food whose fool philosophy has been -responsible for more deaths than most doctors. . - -"That brute of a duck was too far gone," Mr. Webster soliloquized -bitterly. "And to think I'm killed off in the mere shank of my -celebration, just because I got so rich and stuck-up I had to tie into -some offal to show what a discerning judgment I had in food, not to -mention my distinctive appetite. I ought to be knocked on the head with -something, and I hope I may be if I ever accept any man's judgment in -opposition to my own, on the subject of ripe mallards. This is what -comes of breaking the game laws." - -He decided presently to go into executive session with the sleeping-car -conductor, who wired ahead for a doctor to meet the train at the next -station. And when the sawbones came and pawed Jack Webster over, he -gravely announced that if the patient had the slightest ambition to -vote at the next Presidential election, he should leave the train at -St. Louis and enter a hospital forthwith. To this heart-breaking program -Webster entered not the slightest objection, for when a man is seriously -ill, he is in much the same position as a politician--to wit: he is in -the hands of his friends. A sick man is always very sick--or thinks he -is, which amounts to the same thing; and as a rule he thinks of little -else save how sick he is. John S. Webster was, in this respect, neither -better nor worse than others of his sex, and in his great bodily and -mental depression his plans of the night before for getting acquainted -with Dolores Ruey occurred to him now as something extremely futile and -presumptuous. That young lady was now the subject least in his mind, for -she was at most naught but a bright day-dream; whereas his friend -Billy Geary was down in Sobrante with a rich wildcat mine waiting to be -developed, while the source of development lay on a bed of pain assailed -by secret apprehensions that all was over! - -"Poor Billy-boy!" the sufferer murmured. "He'll wait and wait, and his -old Jack-partner won't come! Damn that duck!" - -He had one little stab of pain higher up, and around his heart, as they -carried him off the train at St. Louis and stowed him in an ambulance -thoughtfully provided for by telegraph. In a nebulous way it occurred to -him that Fate had again crossed her fingers when paradise loomed on the -horizon; but recalling how very ill he was, he damned the duck. He told -himself that even if he should survive (which wasn't possible), there -could be no doubt in his mind, after all he had been through, that the -good Lord had marked him for a loveless, friendless, childless man; that -it was useless to struggle against the inevitable. He felt very, very -sorry for himself as the orderlies tucked him into bed and a nurse -thrust a thermometer under his tongue. - -"A hundred and four and a quarter," he heard her murmur to the doctor a -few minutes later. - -"No bird ever flew so high that he didn't come down to roost," said Mr. -Webster aloud. - -The doctor and the nurse exchanged knowing glances. They nodded. The -patient was already delirious--a bad sign. - -"Hey, Doc," the stricken man called. They bent over him. -"Send--cablegram to Billy Geary--tell him--come home--before that -thousand--spent--money--my pocket." - -"Yes, I hear you," the nurse said soothingly. "And the address?" - -"Calle de Concordia, Nineteen, Buenaventura, Sobrante." - -"Say it again," the nurse urged him. "Spell it." Poor girl! She was -a native of St. Louis. If Jack Webster had mentioned Ossawatomie or -Canandaigua, he would not have been called upon to go into details and -waste his strength. He gasped and wet his lips; she bent to get the -message: - -"Damn that duck," he whispered. "She had a green tailor-made suit, -and--believe me, girl, I'd rather sell my Death Valley--borax-claims -than--work them myself. Free-milling gold--catch it on amalgamating -plates--contact between andesite and--Silurian limestone--Billy -knows ducks. I taught him myself. Come, Neddy. All together now, you -old--pelican. A little close harmony, boys:= - -````"Let go the peak halyards, - -````Let go the peak halyards, - -````My finger is caught in the block! - -`````Leggo!"= - -"Sounds like a drinking man," the doctor observed. "If that's the case, -this attack will go hard with him." - -It did. However, life had the habit of going hard with Webster so -frequently that fortunately he was trained to the minute, and after -three days of heroic battling the doctor awarded Jack the decision. -Thereafter they kept him in the hospital ten days longer, "feeding him -up" as the patient expressed it--at the end of which period Webster, -some fifteen pounds lighter and not quite so fast on his feet as -formerly, resumed his journey toward New Orleans. - -In the meantime, however, several things had happened. To begin, Dolores -Ruey spent two days wondering what had become of her quondam knight of -the whiskers--at the end of which period she arrived in New Orleans -with the conviction strong upon her that while her hero might be -as courageous as a wounded lion when dealing with men, he was the -possessor, when dealing with women, of about two per cent, less courage -than a cottontail rabbit. She reproached herself for the wintry glance -she had cast upon the poor fellow that night at the Denver railway -station; she decided that the amazing Neddy Jerome was an interfering, -impudent old fool and that she had done an unmaidenly and brazen deed -in replying to his ridiculous telegram, even though she did so under an -assumed name. Being a very human young lady, however, she could not help -wondering what had become of the ubiquitous Mr. Webster, although the -fact that he had mysteriously disappeared from the train en route to New -Orleans did not perturb her one half so much as it had the disappearee! -She had this advantage over that unfortunate man. Whereas he did not -know she was bound for Buenaventura, she knew he was; hence, upon -arrival in New Orleans she dismissed him from her thoughts, serene in -abiding faith that sooner or later her knight would appear, like little -_Bo-Peep's_ lost sheep, dragging his tail behind him, so to speak. -The only regret she entertained arose from her disappointment in the -knowledge of his real character, and its wide variance from the heroic -attributes with which she had endowed him. She had depended upon him to -be a daring devil--and he had failed to toe the scratch! - -Dolores spent a week in New Orleans renewing schoolgirl friendships from -her convent days in the quaint old town. This stop-over, together with -the one in Denver, not having been taken into consideration by Mr. -William Geary when he and Mother Jenks commenced to speculate upon -the approximate date of her arrival in Buenaventura, resulted in the -premature flight of Mother Jenks to San Miguel de Padua, a fruitless -visit on the part of Billy aboard the _Cacique_, of the United Fruit -Company's line, followed by a hurry call to Mother Jenks to return to -Buenaventura until the arrival of the next steamer. - -This time Billy's calculations proved correct, for Dolores did arrive -on that steamer. It is also worthy of remark here that shortly after -boarding the vessel and while _La Estrellita_ was snoring down the -Mississippi, Miss Dolores did the missing Webster the signal honour of -scanning the purser's passenger list in a vain search for his name. - -At Buenaventura the steamer anchored in the roadstead; the port doctor -came aboard, partook of his customary drink with the captain, received -a bundle of the latest American newspapers and magazines, nosed around, -asked a few perfunctory questions, and gave the vessel pratique. -Immediately she was surrounded by lighters manned by clamorous, -half-naked Sobranteans, each screaming in a horrible patois of English, -Spanish, and good American slang perfervid praises of the excellence -of his service compared with that of his neighbour. Dolores was -particularly interested in the antics of one fellow who had a sign -tacked on a short signal mast in his lighter. "I am a poor man with -a large family, and my father was an American," the legend ran. -"Kind-hearted Americans will patronize me to the exclusion of all -others." - -Dolores had made up her mind to heed this pathetic appeal, when she -observed a gasolene launch shoot up to the landing at the foot of the -companion-ladder and discharge a well-dressed, youthful white man. As he -came up the companion, the purser recognized him. - -"Howdy, Bill," he called. - -"Hello, yourself," Mr. William Geary replied, and Dolores knew him for -an American. "Do you happen to have as a passenger this trip a large, -interesting person, by name John Stuart Webster?" added Billy Geary. - -"I don't know, Billy. I'll look over the passenger-list." - -"No hope," Billy replied mournfully. "If Jack Webster was aboard he'd -have got acquainted with you. However, take a look-see to make certain." - -"Friend of yours?" the purser queried. - -"You bet. Likewise guide and philosopher. He should have been here on -the last steamer--cabled me he was coming, and I haven't heard a word -from him since. I'm a little worried." - -"I'll get the list," the purser announced, and together they moved off -toward his office. Dolores followed, drawn by the mention of that magic -name Webster, and paused in front of the purser's office to lean over the -rail, ostensibly to watch the _cargadores_ in their lighters clustering -around the great ship, but in reality to learn more of the mysterious -Webster. - -"Blast the luck," Billy Geary growled, "the old sinner isn't here. Gosh, -that's worse than having a note called on a fellow. By the way, do you -happen to have a Miss Dolores Ruey aboard?" - -Dolores pricked up her little ears. What possible interest could this -stranger have in her goings or comings? - -"You picked a winner this time, Bill," she heard the purser say. -"Stateroom Sixteen, boat-deck, starboard side. You'll probably find her -there, packing to go ashore." - -"Thanks," Billy replied and stepped out of the purser's office. Dolores -turned and faced him. - -"I am Miss Ruey," she announced. "I heard you asking for me." Her eyes -carried the query she had not put into words: "Who are you, and what -do you want?" Billy saw and understood, and on the instant a wave of -desolation surged over him. - -So this was the vision he had volunteered to meet aboard _La -Estrellita_, and by specious lie and hypo-critic mien, turn her back -from the portals of Buenaventura to that dear old United States, which, -Billy suddenly recalled with poignant pain, is a sizable country in -which a young lady may very readily be lost forever. At the moment it -occurred to Mr. Geary that the apotheosis of rapture would be a midnight -stroll in the moonlight along the Malecon, with the little waves from -the Caribbean lapping and gurgling against the beach, while afar, in -some bosky retreat, a harp with a flute obbligato sobbed out "'Nita, -Juanita" or some equally heart-throb ballad. Yes, that would be quite a -joyous journey--with Dolores Ruey. - -Billy, with the quick eye of youth, noted that Dolores was perfectly -wonderful in a white flannel skirt and jacket, white buck boots, white -panama hat with a gorgeous puggaree, a mannish little linen collar, and -a red four-in-hand tie. From under that white hat peeped a profusion of -crinkly brown hair with a slightly reddish tinge to it; her eyes were -big and brown and wide apart, with golden flecks in them; their glance -met Billy's hungry gaze simply, directly, and with 'a curiosity there -was no attempt to hide. Her complexion was that peculiar shade of olive, -with a warm, healthy, underlying tinge that nobody could possibly hope -to describe, but which fits in so beautifully with brown eyes of a -certain shade. Her nose was patrician; her beautiful short upper lip -revealed the tips of two perfect, milk-white front teeth: she was, Billy -Geary told himself, a goddess before whom all low, worthless, ornery -fellows like himself should grovel and die happy, if perchance she might -be so minded as to walk on their faces! He was aroused from his critical -inventory when the houri spoke again: - -"You haven't answered my question, sir!" - -"No," said Billy, "I didn't. Stupid of me, too. I was staring, -instead--because, you see, it isn't often we poor expatriated devils -down here climb out of Hades long enough to view the angels! However, -come to think of it, you didn't ask me any question. You looked it. My -name is Geary--William H. Geary, by profession a mining engineer and -by nature an ignoramus, and I have called to deliver some disappointing -news regarding Henrietta Wilkins." - -"Is she----" - -"She is very much alive and in excellent health--or rather was, the -last time it was my pleasure and privilege to call on the dear lady. But -she isn't in Buenaventura now." Mentally Billy asked God to forgive him -his black-hearted treachery to this winsome girl. He loathed the task he -had planned and foisted upon himself, and nothing but the memory of -Mother Jenks's manifold kindnesses to him in a day, thanks to Jack -Webster, now happily behind him, could have induced him to go through to -the finish. Mentally clinging to the memory of his obligations to Mother -Jenks, Billy ruthlessly smothered his finer instincts and with breaking -heart prepared to do or die. - -"Why, where is she?" Dolores queried, and Billy could have wept at the -fright in those lovely brown eyes. - -He waved his hand airily. "_Quien sabe?_" he said. "She left three weeks -ago for New Orleans to visit you. I dare say you passed each other on -the road--here, here, Miss Ruey, don't cry. By golly, this is a tough -one, I know, but be brave and we'll save something out of the wreck -yet." - -He took a recess of three minutes, while Dolores dabbed her eyes and -went through sundry other motions of being brave. Then he proceeded with -his nefarious recital. - -"When your cablegram arrived, Miss Ruey, naturally Mrs. Wilkins was not -here to receive it, and as I was the only person who had her address, -the cable-agent referred it to me. Under the circumstances, not knowing -where I could reach you with a cable informing you that Mrs. Wilkins -was headed for California to see you, I had no other alternative but -let matters take their course. I decided you might arrive on _La -Estrellita_, so I called to welcome you to our thriving little city, -and, as a friend of about two minutes' standing, to warn you away from -it." - -Billy's mien, as he voiced this warning, was so singularly mysterious -that Dolores's curiosity was aroused instantly and rose superior to her -grief. "Why, what's the matter?" she demanded. - -Billy looked around, as if fearful of being overheard. He lowered his -voice. "We're going to have one grand little first-class revolution," he -replied. "It's due to bust almost any night now, and when it does, the -streets of San Buenaventura will run red with blood. I shudder to think -of the fate that might befall you, alone and unprotected in the city, in -such event." - -Dolores blanched. "Oh, dearie me," she quavered. "Do they still have -revolutions here? You know, Mr. Geary, my poor father was killed in -one." - -"Yes, and the same old political gang that shot him is still on deck," -Billy warned her. "It would be highly dangerous for a Ruey, man or -woman, to show his or her nose around Buenaventura about now. Besides, -Miss Ruey, that isn't the worst," he continued, for a whole-hearted lad -was Billy, who never did anything by halves. While he was opposed to -lies and liars on broad, general principles, nevertheless whenever the -exigencies of circumstance compelled him to backslide, his Hibernian -impulsiveness bade him spin a yarn worth while. "The city is reeking -with cholera," he declared. - -"Cholera!" Dolores's big brown eyes grew Digger with wonder and concern. -"Are there any other fatal diseases prevalent, Mr. Geary?" - -"Well, we're not advertising it, Miss Ruey, but if I had an enemy to -whom I wanted to slip a plain or fancy case of bubonic plague, I'd -invite him to visit me at Buenaventura." - -"How strange the port authorities didn't warn us at New Orleans!" -Dolores suggested. - -"Tish! Tush! Fiddlesticks and then some. The fruit company censors -everything, Miss Ruey, and the news doesn't get out. The port -authorities here would never admit the truth of such reports, because it -would be bad for business----" - -"But the port doctor just said the passengers could go ashore." - -"What's a human life to a doctor? Besides, he's on the slush-fund -pay-roll and does whatever the higher-ups tell him. You be guided by -what I tell you, Miss Ruey, and do not set foot on Sobrantean soil. Even -if you had a guarantee that you could escape alive, there isn't a hotel -in the city you could afford to sleep in; Miss Wilkins's house is closed -up, and Miss Wilkins's servants dismissed, and--er--well, if you stay -aboard _La Estrellita_, you'll have your nice clean stateroom, your -well-cooked meals, your bath, and the attentions of the stewardess. The -steamer will be loaded in two days; then you go back to New Orleans, and -by the time you arrive there I'll have been in communication by cable -with Mother Jenks--I mean----" - -"Mother who?" Dolores demanded. - -"A mere slip of the tongue, Miss Ruey. I was thinking of my landlady. I -meant Mrs. Wilkins----" - -"You mean Miss Wilkins," Dolores corrected him smilingly. - -"So I do. Of course, Miss Wilkins. Well, I'll cable her you're on your -way back, and if you'll leave me your New Orleans address, I'll have her -get in touch with you, and then you can have your nice little visit far -from the madding crowd's ignoble strife and the death-dealing sting of -the yellow-fever mosquito." - -"I'm so awfully obliged to you, Mr. Geary. You're so kind, I'm sure -I'd be a most ungrateful girl not to be guided by you accordingly. You -wouldn't risk any friend of yours in this terrible place, would you, Mr. -Geary?" - -"Indeed, I would not. By permitting anybody I thought anything of to -come to this city, I should feel guilty of murder." - -"I'm sure you would, Mr. Geary. Nevertheless, there is one point that is -not quite clear in my mind, and I wish you'd explain----" - -"Command me, Miss Ruey." - -"If this is such a frightful place, why are you so anxious, if I may -employ such language, to hornsgoggle your dearest friend, Mr. John S. -Webster, into coming down here? Do you want to kill him and get his -money--or what?" - -Billy's face flamed at thought of the embarrassing trap his glib tongue -had led him into. He cursed himself for a star-spangled jackass, and -while he was engaged in this interesting pastime Dolores spoke again. - -"And by the way, which is it? Miss Wilkins or Mrs.? You've called -her both, and when I reminded you she was a Miss, you agreed with me, -whereas she is nothing of the sort. She's a Mrs. Then you blurted out -something about a Mother Jenks, and finally, Mr. Geary, it occurs to me -that for a complete stranger you are unduly interested in my welfare. -I'm not such a goose as to assimilate your weird tales of death from -disease. I might have accepted the revolution, because I know it's the -national outdoor sport down here, and I might have accepted the cholera, -because it wouldn't surprise me; but when you so artlessly throw in -bubonic plague and yellow fever for good measure, Mr. Geary, you tax my -credulity. It occurs to me that if your friend John S. Webster can risk -Buenaventura, I can also." - -"You--you know that old tarantula?" Billy gasped. "Why I--I came out to -warn him off the grass, too." - -Dolores walked a step closer to Billy and eyed him disapprovingly. -"I'm so sorry I can't believe that statement," she replied. "With the -exception of your tendency toward fiction, you're rather a presentable -young man, too. It's really too bad, but it happens that I was standing -by the companion-ladder when you came aboard and spoke to the purser; -when you asked him if Mr. Webster was aboard, your face was alight with -eagerness and anticipation, but when you had reason to believe he was -not aboard, you looked so terribly disappointed I felt sorry for you." - -"Well, of course I would have been delighted to meet the old boy," Billy -began, but she interrupted him. - -"Mr. Geary, you're about as reliable as a Los Angeles thermometer--and -if you've ever lived in a town the main asset of which is climate, you -know just how reliable you are. Now, let us understand each other, Mr. -Geary: If you think I'm the kind of simple, trusting little country maid -who would come within half a mile of the land of her birth and then run -back home because somebody said 'Boo!' you are not nearly so intelligent -as you look. I'm going ashore, if it's the last act of my life, and when -I get there I'm going to interview the cable agent; then I'm going to -call at the steamship office and scan the passenger list of the last -three north-bound steamers, and if I do not find Henrietta Wilkins's -name on one of those passenger lists I'm going up to Calle de Concordia -Number Nineteen----" - -"I surrender unconditionally," groaned Billy. "I'm a liar from beginning -to end. I overlooked my hand. I forgot that while you were born in -this country and bred from several generations of Sobranteans, you were -raised in the U. S. A. I beg of you to believe me, however, when I tell -you that I only told you those whoppers because I was in honour bound to -tell them. Personally, I don't want you to go away--at least, not until -I'm ready to go away, too! Miss Ruey, my nose is in the dust. On my -lying head there is a ton of ashes and a thousand running yards of -sackcloth. There is a fever in my brain and a misery in my heart----" - -"And contrition in your face," she interrupted him laughingly. "You're -forgiven, Mr. Geary--on one condition." - -"Name it," he answered. - -"Tell me everything from beginning to end." - -So Billy told her, for there are some women in this world to whom a man -with a poker face, the imagination of a Verne, and the histrionic art of -an Irving cannot--nay, dare not--tell a lie. "I would much rather have -been visited with a plague of boils, like our old friend, the late Job, -than have to tell you this, Miss Ruey," Bill concluded his recital. "Man -proposes, but God disposes, and you're here and bound to learn the truth -sooner or later. Mother isn't a lady and she knows it, but take it -from me, Miss Ruey, she's a grand old piece of work. She's a scout--a -ring-tailed sport--a regular individual and game as a gander." - -"In other words," Dolores replied smilingly, "she has a heart of gold." - -"Twenty-four carat, all wool and a yard wide," Billy declared, -mixed-metaphorically. - -"And I mustn't call at El Buen Amigo, Mr. Geary?" - -"Perish the thought! Mother must call on you. El Buen Amigo is what you -might term a hotel for tropical tramps of the masculine sex. Nearly all -of Mother's guests have a past, you know. They're the submerged white -tenth of Sobrante." - -"Then my benefactor must call to see me here?" Billy nodded. "When will -you bring her here?" - -Billy reflected that Mother Jenks had been up rather late the night -before and that trade in the _cantina_ of El Buen Amigo had been -unusually brisk; so since he desired to exhibit the old lady at her -best, he concluded it might be well to spar for wind. - -"To-morrow at ten," he declared. Dolores inclined her head. Something -told her she had better leave all future details to the amiable William. - -"I take it you are a guest at El Buen Amigo, Mr. Geary," she continued. - -"Oh, yes. I've been a guest for about two weeks now; before that I was -an encumbrance. Now I'm paying my way--thanks to an old side-kicker of -mine, Jack Webster." - -"But surely you're not a tropical tramp, Mr. Geary?" - -"I was, but Jack Webster reformed me," Billy answered quizzically. "You -know--power of wealth and all that." - -"I remember you inquired for your friend Mr. Webster when you came -aboard the steamer." - -"I remember it, too," Billy countered ruefully. "I can't imagine what's -become of him. I suppose I'll have a cable from him any day, though, -telling me he'll be along on the next steamer. Miss Ruey, did you ever -go to meet the only human being in the world and discover that for some -mysterious reason he had failed to keep the appointment? If you ever -have, you'll know just how cheerful I felt when I didn't find Jack's -name on the passenger list. Miss Ruey, you'll have to meet old John -Stuart the minute he lights in Buenaventura. He's some boy." - -"_Old_ John Stuart?" she queried. "How old?" - -"Oh, thirty-nine or forty on actual count, but one of the kind that -will live to be a thousand and then have to be killed with an axe. He's -coming to Sobrante to help me put over a mining deal." - -"How interesting, Mr. Geary! No wonder you were disappointed." - -The last sentence was a shaft deliberately launched; to Dolores's -delight it made a keyhole in Billy Geary's heart. - -"Don't get me wrong, Miss Ruey," he hastened to assure her. "I have a -good mine, but I'd trade it for a hand-shake from Jack! The good Lord -only published one edition of Jack, and limited the edition to one -volume; then the plates were melted for the junk we call the human -race." - -"Oh, do tell me all about him," Dolores pleaded. Billy, always -interested in his favourite topic, beamed with boyish pleasure. "No," he -said, "I'll not tell you about him, Miss Ruey. I'll just let him speak -for himself. We used to be as close to each other as peas in a pod, -back in Colorado, and then I made a monkey of myself and shook old Jack -without even saying good-bye. Miss Ruey, my action didn't even dent -his friendship for me. Two weeks ago, when I was sick and penniless and -despairing, the possessor of a concession on a fortune but without -a _centavo_ in my pockets to buy a banana, when I was a veritable -beach-comber and existing on the charity of Mother Jenks, I managed -finally to communicate with old Jack and told him where I was and what I -had. There's his answer, Miss Ruey, and I'm not ashamed to say that when -I got it I cried like a kid." And Billy handed her John Stuart Webster's -remarkable cablegram, the receipt of which had, for Billy Geary, -transformed night into day, purgatory into paradise. Dolores read it. - -"No wonder you love him," she declared, and added artlessly: "His wife -must simply adore him." - -"'He has no wife to bother his fife, so he paddles his own canoe,'" -Billy recited. "I don't believe the old sour-dough has ever been in -love with anything more charming than the goddess of fortune. He's -womanproof." - -"About Mrs. Jenks," Dolores continued, abruptly changing the subject. -"How nice to reflect that after she had trusted you and believed in you -when you were penniless, you were enabled to justify her faith." - -"You bet!" Billy declared. "I feel that I can never possibly hope to -catch even with the old Samaritan, although I did try to show her how -much I appreciated her." - -"I dare say you went right out and bought her an impossible hat," -Dolores challenged roguishly. - -"No, I didn't--for a very sufficient reason. Down here the ladies do not -wear hats. But I'll tell you what I did buy her, Miss Ruey--and oh, by -George. I'm glad now I did it. She'll wear them to-morrow when I bring -her to see you. I bought her a new black silk dress and an old lace -collar, and a gold breast-pin and a tortoise-shell hair comb and hired -an open carriage and took her for an evening ride on the Malecon to -listen to the band concert." - -"Did she like that?" - -"She ate it up," Billy declared with conviction. "I think it was her -first adventure in democracy." Billy's pulse was still far from normal -when he reached El Buen Amigo, for he was infused with a strange, -new-found warmth that burned like malarial fever but wasn't. He wasted -no preliminaries on Mother Jenks, but bluntly acquainted her with the -facts in the case. - -Mother Jenks eyed him a moment wildly. "Gord's truth!" she gasped; she -reached for her favourite elixir, but Billy got the bottle first. - -"Nothing doing," he warned this strange publican. "Mother, you're -funking it--and what would your sainted 'Enery say to that? Do you want -that angel to kiss you and get a whiff of this brandy?" Mother Jenks's -eyes actually popped. "Gor', Willie," she gasped, "'aven't Hi told yer -she's a lydy! Me kiss the lamb! Hi trusts, Mr. Geary, as ow I knows my -plyce an' can keep it." - -"Yes, I know," Billy soothed the frightened old woman, "but the trouble -is Miss Dolores doesn't know hers--and something tells me if she does, -she'll forget it. She'll take you in her arms and kiss you, sure as -death and taxes." - -And she did! "My lamb, my lamb," sobbed Mother Jenks the next morning, -and rested her old cheek, with its rum-begotten hue, close to the -rose-tinted ivory cheek of her ward. "Me--wot I am--an' to think------" - -"You're a sweet old dear," Dolores whispered, patting the gray head; -"and I'm going to call you Mother." - -"Mr. William H. Geary," the girl remarked that night, "I know now why -your friend Mr. Webster sent that cablegram. I think you're a scout, -too." - -[Illustration: 0125] - -For reasons best known to himself Mr. Geary blushed furiously. "I--I'd -better go and break the news to Mother," he suggested inanely. She held -out her hand; and Billy, having been long enough in Sobrante to have -acquired the habit, bent his malarial person over that hand and kissed -it. As he went out it occurred to him that had the lobby of the Hotel -Mateo been paved with eggs, he must have floated over them like a -Wraith, so light did he feel within. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -|WEBSTER reached New Orleans at the end of the first leg of his journey, -to discover that in the matter of sailings he was not fortunate. He was -one day late to board the _Atlanta_--a banana boat of the Consolidated -Fruit Company's line plying regularly between New Orleans and that -company's depots at Limon and San Buenaventura--which necessitated a -wait of three days for the steamer _La Estrellita_ of the Caribbean Mail -Line, running to Caracas and way ports. - -This delay annoyed him, for he was the kind of man who, once he has made -up his mind to embark upon a venture, is impatient to be up and doing. -Accordingly, he decided to visit the ticket office of the Caribbean -Mail Line immediately and avoid the rush in case the travel should be -heavy--in which event a delay of an hour might be fatal--for should he -be informed that the space on La Estrellita was entirely sold out, the -knowledge would, he knew, set his reason tottering on its throne. - -The steamship office was in Canal Street. Webster arrived there during -the luncheon hour, due to which fact he found but one clerk on duty -at the ticket counter when he entered. This clerk was waiting on two -well-dressed and palpably low-bred sons of the tropics, to whom he had -just displayed a passenger list which the two were scanning critically. -Their interest in it was so obvious that unconsciously Webster peeped -over their shoulders (no difficult task for one of his stature) and -discovered it to be the passenger list of the steamer La Estrellita. -They were conversing together in low tones and Webster, who had spent -many years of his life following his profession in Mexico, recognized -their speech as the bastard Spanish of the peon. - -The clerk glanced up, caught Webster's eye and nodded to indicate that -he would attend him directly. - -"No hurry, old timer," Webster told him, with the bluff, free-and-easy -democracy of the man of broad, unkenned horizons. "Just save a place -on that passenger list for my John Hancock when our friends here have -finished with it." - -He sat down in the long wall seat and waited until the pair, having -completed their scrutiny of the list, turned to pass out. He glanced at -them casually. - -Theirs were faces ordinary enough south of the Rio Grande but not likely -to pass unnoticed in a northern crowd. One was a tall thin man whose -bloodshot eyes were inclined to "pop" a little--infallible evidence in -the Latin-American that he is drinking more hard liquor than is good -for him. He was smooth-shaven, of pronounced Indian type, and wore -considerable expensive jewellery. - -His companion was plainly of the same racial stock, although Webster -suspected him of a slight admixture of negro blood. He was short, -stocky, and aggressive looking; like his companion, bejewelled and -possessed of a thin, carefully cultivated mous, tache that seemed to -consist of about nineteen hairs on one side and twenty on the other. -Evidently once upon a time, as the story books have it, he had been -shot. Webster suspected a Mauser bullet, fired at long range. It had -entered his right cheek, just below the malar, ranged downward through -his mouth and out through a fold of flabby flesh under his left jowl. It -must have been a frightful wound, but it had healed well except at the -point of entrance, where it had a tendency to pucker considerably, thus -drawing the man's eyelid down on his cheek and giving to that visual -organ something of the appearance of a bulldog's. - -Both men observed Webster's swift but intense appraisal of them, and -he of the puckered eye--perhaps because he was the cynosure of that -scrutiny and morbidly sensitive of his facial disfigurement--replied -with a cool, sullen stare that was almost belligerent. - -Webster gazed after them whimsically as he approached the counter. - -"I'd hate to wake up some night and find that _hombre_ with the puckered -eye leaning over me. To what branch of the genus Greaser do those two -horse-thieves belong?" he queried. - -"Central America, I take it," the clerk answered. "They appear -interested in the names of passengers bound for Caribbean ports. Looking -for a friend, I suppose." - -"Hardly. I speak their kind of Spanish and a peon doesn't refer to his -friends in the free-and-easy language these fellows employed. By the -way," he continued, suddenly apprehensive, "do you get much of that -paraqueet travel on your line?" - -"About 80 per cent, of it is off colour, sir." Webster pondered the -80-per-cent, probability of being berthed in the same stateroom with one -of these people and the prospect was as revolting to him as would be an -uninvited negro guest at the dining table of a southern family. He had -all a Westerner's hatred for the breed. - -"Well, I want a ticket to San Buenaventura," he informed the clerk, "but -I don't relish the idea of a Greaser in the same stateroom with Me. -I wonder if you couldn't manage to fix me up with a stateroom all to -myself, or at least arrange it so that in the event of company I'll draw -a white man. I can stand a slovenly white man where a clean peon would -be unbearable, although--peon or Caballero--these people are apt to be -tarred with the same stick. I don't care for any of them in mine." - -"I'm sorry, sir, but I cannot guarantee you absolute privacy nor any -kind of white man. It's pretty mixed travel to all Central American -ports." - -"How many berths in your first-class staterooms?" - -"Two." - -Webster smiled brightly. He had found a way out of the difficulty. "I'll -buy 'em both, son," he announced. - -"I cannot sell you an entire stateroom, sir. It's against the orders of -the company to sell two berths to one man. The travel is pretty brisk -and it's hardly fair to the public, you know." - -"Well, suppose I buy one ticket for myself and the other for--well, for -my valet, let us say. Of course," he added brightly, "I haven't engaged -the valet yet and even should I do so I wouldn't be at all surprised if -the rascal missed the boat!" - -The clerk glanced at him with a slow smile, and pondered. "Well," he -said presently, "it's a poor rule that hasn't its exception, and when it -comes to killing cats, strangulation with a butter-ball isn't the only -method. If you care to buy a ticket for your valet, I'm sure I shouldn't -worry whether or not he catches the boat. If my records show that the -space is sold of two men and the purser collects two tickets, I think -you'll be pretty safe from intrusion." - -"To the harassed traveller," said Mr. Webster, "a meeting with a -gentleman of your penetration is as refreshing as a canteen of cool -water in the desert. Shoot!" and he produced a handful of gold. - -"I will--provided I have one empty cabin," and the clerk turned from the -counter to consult his record of berths already sold and others reserved -but not paid for. Presently he faced Webster at the counter. - -"The outlook is very blue," he announced. "Every name on the passenger -list has a preponderance of vowels in it. However, I have one berth in -No. 34 reserved by a gentleman who was to call for it by two o'clock -to-day." He looked at his watch. "It is now a quarter of one. If the -reservation isn't claimed promptly at two o'clock I shall cancel it and -reserve for you both berths in that room. If you will be good enough to -leave me your name and address I will telephone you after that hour. In -the meantime, you may make reservation of the other berth in the same -stateroom. I feel very confident that the reservation in No. 34 will not -be called for, Mr.--er----" - -"Webster--John S. Webster. You are very kind, indeed. I'm at the St. -Charles." - -"Be there at a quarter after two, Mr. Webster, and you will hear from me -promptly on the minute," the clerk assured him; whereupon Webster paid -for one berth and departed for his hotel with a feeling that the clerk's -report would be favourable. - -True to his promise, at precisely a quarter after two, the ticket -clerk telephoned Webster at his hotel that the berth in No. 34 had been -cancelled and the entire stateroom was now at his disposal. - -"If you will be good enough to give me the name of your valet," he -concluded, "it will not be necessary for you to come down for your -tickets, Mr. Webster. I will fill in both names on my passenger manifest -and send the tickets to your hotel by messenger immediately. You can -then sign the tickets--I have already signed them as witness--and pay -the messenger." - -"Well, I haven't engaged that valet as yet," Webster began, but the -other interrupted cheerfully: "What's the odds? He's going to miss the -boat, anyhow. All I require is a name." - -"That ought to be a simple request to comply with. Let me see! If I had -a valet I think I should want him to be called Andrew or Martin." - -"I read a book once, Mr. Webster, and the valet in that book was called -Andrew Bowers." - -"Bowers is a fine old English name. Let us seek no further. Andrew -Bowers it is." - -"Thank you. All you have to do then is to remember to sign the name, -Andrew Bowers, to one ticket. Don't forget your valet's name now, and -ball everything up," and the clerk hung up, laughing. - -Half an hour later a boy from the steamship office arrived with the -tickets, collected for them, and departed, leaving John Stuart Webster -singularly pleased with himself and at peace with the entire world. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -|A "LARGE" dinner at Antoine's that night (Webster had heard of Antoine's -dinners, both large and small and was resolved not to leave New Orleans -until he had visited the famous restaurant) and a stroll through the -picturesque old French quarter and along the levee next day, helped to -render his enforced stay in New Orleans delightful, interesting, and -instructive. Webster was one of those distinctful individual types to -whom a chamber of horrors would be productive of more enjoyment than the -usual round of "points of interest." Experience had demonstrated to -him that such points usually are uninteresting and wearing on the -imagination, for the reason that the tourist trappers and proprietors of -automobile 'buses, who map out the tours have no imagination themselves. -Consequently, Webster preferred to prowl around quietly on little tours -of discovery, personally conducted by himself. The search for obscure -restaurants of unquestioned merit was with him almost a mania, and since -in quaint New Orleans the food and drink specialist finds his highest -heaven, no cloud marked the serenity of his delightful peregrinations. - -The next day would be Sunday, and Webster planned an early morning -visit to the old French market, around which still lingers much of the -picturesque charm and colourful romance of a day that is done--that -echo of yesterday, as it were, which has left upon New Orleans an -individuality as distinct as that which the olden, golden, godless days -have left upon San Francisco. - -He rose before six o'clock, therefore; found a taxi, with the driver -sound asleep inside, at the curb in front of the hotel; gave the latter -his instructions, and climbed in. - -It being Sunday morning New Orleans slept late. Save for the few early -morning worshippers hurrying to mass--mostly servants in a hurry to -return to their kitchens and cook breakfast--the streets were deserted. -The languorous air of dawn was redolent of the perfume of orange, rose, -and sweet olive; from the four comers of the old town the mellow chimes -of the Catholic church bells pealed their sweet, insistent call to the -faithful; an atmosphere of subtle peace and sanctity pervaded the silent -streets and awoke in John Stuart Webster's heart a vague nostalgia. - -Perhaps it was because so much of his life had been spent in lonely -mountain or desert camps, or perhaps it was because this taxi ride -through the pleasant southern dawn was so typical of the swift passing -of the youth which had gone from him before he had had an opportunity to -taste, even moderately, of its joys and allurements. He sighed--a little -regretful sigh. - -"That's you, Johnny Webster," he told himself, "breezing along through -life like a tin-canned dog; f passing the sweet and the beautiful and -battling with the harsh and unlovely; here to-day and gone to-morrow, a -poor harried devil with your trunk on your back, a slave to the call -of gold; restless, in a great hurry to get there and an equal hurry to -leave for the new diggings, and all the time Life passes you by and you -don't grab so much as a tail feather! On such a morn as this Eve entered -the Garden of Eden, while I, consummate idiot, shut myself up in a taxi -to watch a bill of expense run up on the clock, while sniffing myrrh and -incense through this confounded window. I'll get out and walk!" - -He was opposite Jackson Square and the cloying sweetness of palmetto, -palm, and fig burdened the air. Above the rumble of the taxi he could -hear the distant babel of voices in the French market across the square, -so he halted the taxicab, alighted, and handed the driver a bill. - -"I want to explore this square," he said. He had recognized it by the -heroic statue of General Jackson peeping through the trees. "I'll walk -through the square Up the market, and you may proceed to the market and -meet me there. Later we will return to the hotel." - -The chauffeur nodded, and Webster, every fibre of his alert, healthy -body once more tingling with the sheer joy of living, entered the -square, found a path that wound its way through the shrubbery, and came -out at length in the main pathway, close to the Jackson memorial statue. - -A Creole girl--starry-eyed, beautiful, rich with the glorious colouring -of her race--passed him bound for the cathedral across the square, as -Webster thought, for she carried a large prayer book on her arm. To -Webster she seemed to fit perfectly into her surroundings, to lend to -them the last, final touch of beauty, the apotheosis of peace, and again -the nostalgic fever submerged the quiet joy with which he had approached -his journey through the square. His glance followed the girl down the -walk. - -Presently she halted. A young man rose from a bench where evidently he -had been waiting for her, and bowed low, his hat clasped to his breast, -as only a Frenchman or a Spanish grandee can bow. Webster saw the Creole -girl turn to him with a little gesture of pleasure. She extended her -hand and the young man kissed it with old-fashioned courtesy. - -John Stuart Webster knew now what was missing in his scheme of things, -as with reverent and wistful eyes he watched their meeting. - -"Forty years old," he thought, "and I haven't spoken to a dozen women -that caused me a second thought, or who weren't postmistresses or -biscuit shooters! Forty years old and I've never been in love! Spring -time down that little path and Indian summer in my old fool heart. Why, -I ought to be arrested for failure to live!" - -The lovers were walking slowly, arm in arm, back along the path by which -the girl had come, so with a courtesy and gentleness that were innate in -him, Webster stepped out of sight behind the statue of Old Hickory; for -he did not desire, by his mere presence, to intrude a discordant note in -the perfect harmony of those two human hearts. He knew they desired that -sylvan path to themselves; that evidently they had sought their early -morning tryst in the knowledge that the square was likely to be deserted -at this hour. Therefore, to provoke selfconsciousness in them now -savoured to John Stuart Webster of a high crime and misdemeanour, for -which reason he was careful to keep General Jackson between himself and -the lovers until they had gone by. - -The young man was speaking as they passed; his voice was rich, pleasant, -vibrant with the earnestness of what he had to say: with a pretty little -silver-mounted walking stick he slashed at spears of grass alongside the -path; the girl was crying a little. Neither of them had seen him, so he -entered a path that led from them at right angles. - -He had proceeded but a few feet along this trail when, through a break -in the shrubbery ahead of him, he saw two men. They were crossing -Webster's path and following a course paralleling that of the lovers in -the broad main walk. Brief as was his glimpse of them, however, Webster -instantly recognized the two Central Americans he had seen in the -steamship ticket office two days previous. - -They were not walking as walk two men abroad at this hour for a -constitutional. Neither did they walk as walk men churchward bound. A -slight, skulking air marked their progress, and caused Webster to wonder -idly what they were stalking. - -He turned into the path down which the two men had passed, not with the -slightest idea of shadowing them, but because his destination lay in -that direction. The Central Americans were approximately fifty yards -in advance of him as he turned in their wake, and at sight of them his -suspicion that they were stalking something was quickened into belief. - -Both men had forsaken the gravelled path and were walking on the soft -velvet of blue grass lawn that fringed it! - -"Perhaps I'd better deaden my hoof beats also," John Stuart Webster -soliloquized, and followed suit immediately. - -He had scarcely done so when the men ahead of him paused abruptly. -Webster did likewise, and responding--subconsciously, perhaps, to the -remembrance of the menace in the glance of the man with the puckered -eye--he stepped out of sight behind a broad oak tree. Through the -trees and shrubbery he could still see the lovers, who had halted and -evidently were about to part. - -Webster saw the young man glance warily about; then, apparently -satisfied there was none to spy upon them, he drew the girl gently -toward him. She clung to him for nearly a minute, sobbing; then he -raised her face tenderly, kissed her, pressed her from him, and walked -swiftly away without looking back. - -It was a sweet and rather touching little tableau; to John Stuart -Webster, imaginative and possessed of a romantic streak in his nature, -it was more than a tableau. It was a moving picture! - -"I suppose her old man objects to the young fellow," he muttered to -himself sympathetically, "and he can't come near the house. They've met -here for the fond farewell, and now the young fellow's going out West -to make his fortune, so he can come back and claim the girl. Huh! If he -wants her, why the devil doesn't he take her? I'd tell her old man I'd -picked on him for my father-in-law, and then if he didn't like me I'd -let the old fellow rave; and see how much good it would do him. But the -French are different; they always let the old folks step in and rock the -boat----- Hello! By Judas priest! Now I know what those two paraqueets -are up to. One of them is the father of that girl. They've been spying -on the lovers, and now they're going to corner the young fellow and -shingle him for his nerve." - -The girl had stood for a moment, gazing after her companion, before she -turned with her handkerchief to her eyes, and continued on her way to -the cathedral. Webster had observed that the two men ahead of him paid -no attention to her, but pressed eagerly forward after the man. - -Webster could look across about thirty yards of low shrubbery at the -girl as she passed. He heard her sobbing as she stumbled blindly by, and -he was distressed about her, for all the world loves a lover and John -Stuart Webster was no exception to this universal rule. - -"By George, this is pretty tough," he reflected. "That young fellow -treated that girl with as much gentleness and courtesy as any gentleman -should, and I'm for him and against this idea of corporal punishment. -Don't you worry, Tillie, my dear. I'm going to horn into this game -myself if it goes too far." - -The two dusky skulkers ahead of him, having come to another crosspath, -turned into it and came out on the main path in the rear of the young -man. Webster noticed that they were walking twice as fast as when he had -first observed them, and more than ever convinced that presently there -might be work for a strong man and true, he hastened after them. - -As he came out into the main walk again, he noticed that the pair were -still walking on the grass. He padded gently along behind them. - -The four were now rapidly approaching the old French market, and the -steadily rising babel of voices speaking in French, Italian, Spanish, -Creole patois and Choctaw, was sufficient to have drowned the slight -noise of the pursuit, even had the young man's mind not been upon other -things, and the interest of the two Central Americans centred upon their -quarry, to the exclusion, of any thought of possible interruption. - -Webster felt instinctively that the two men would rush and make a -concerted attack from the rear. He smiled. - -"I'll just fool you two _hombres_ a whole lot," he thought, and -stooping, picked up a small stone. On the instant the two men, having -approached within thirty feet of their quarry, made a rush for him. - -Their charge was swift, but swift though it was, the little stone which -John Stuart Webster hurled was swifter. It struck the young man fairly -between the shoulderblades with a force sufficient to bring him out of -his sentimental reverie with a jerk, as it were. He whirled, saw the -danger that threatened him, and--sprang to meet it. - -"Bravo!" yelled Webster, and ran to his aid, for he had seen now that it -was to be knife work. Tragedy instead of melodrama. - -The man with the puckered eye closed in with such eagerness it was -apparent to Webster that here was work to his liking. The young man -raised his light cane, but Pucker-eye did not hesitate. He merely threw -up his left forearm to meet the expected blow aimed at his head, lunged -forward and slashed viciously at the young man's abdomen. The latter -drew back a step, doubled like a jack-knife, and brought his cane down -viciously across the knuckles of his assailant's right hand. - -"So it is thou, son of a pig," he called pleasantly in Spanish. "I -fooled you that time, didn't I?" he added in English. "Thought I would -aim for your head, didn't you?" - -The blow temporarily paralyzed the assassin's hand; he dropped the -knife, and as he stooped to recover it with his left hand, the young -man, before retreating from Pop-eye, kicked Pucker-eye in the face and -quite upset him. - -"Stop it!" shouted Webster. - -Pop-eye turned his head at the outcry. The man he was attacking fell -into the position of a swordsman en garde, and thrust viciously with -the ferule at the face of the pop-eyed man, who, disregarding Webster's -approach, seized the cane in his left hand and with a quick, powerful -tug actually drew his victim toward him a foot before the latter let go -the stick. - -Before he could give ground again Pop-eye was upon him. He grasped the -young man by the latter's left arm and held him, while he drew back for -the awful disembowelling stroke; as his long arm sped forward the hook -of John Stuart Webster's heavy cane descended upon that flexed arm in -the brook of the elbow, snagging it cleverly. - -The knife never reached its destination! - -"You would, would you?" said Webster reproachfully, and jerked the -fellow violently around. The man he had rescued promptly struck Pop-eye -a terrible blow in the face with his left hand and broke loose from the -grip that had so nearly been his undoing; whereupon Webster tapped the -assassin a meditative tap or two on the top of his sinful head for good -measure and to awaken in him some sense of the impropriety and futility -of resistance, after which Webster turned to discuss a similar question -of ethics with Pucker-eye. - -The scar-cheeked man was on his knees, groping groggily for his knife, -for he had received a severe kick under the chin, and for the nonce was -far from dangerous. Stooping, Webster picked up the knife; then with -knife and cane grasped in his left hand he seized Pucker-eye by the nape -with his right and jerked him to his feet. The assassin stood glowering -at him in a perfect frenzy of brutish, inarticulate fury. - -"Take the knife away from the other fellow before he gets active again," -Webster called over his shoulder. "I'll manage this rascal. We'll march -them over to the market and turn them over to the police." He spoke in -Spanish. - -"Thanks, ever so much, for my life," the young man answered lightly, and -in English, "but where I come from it is not the fashion to settle -these arguments in a court of law. To call an officer is considered -unclublike; to shoot a prisoner in this country is considered murder, -and consequently I have but one alternative and I advise you, my good -friend, to have a little of the same. I'm going to run like the devil." - -And he did. He was in full flight before Webster could glance around, -and in an instant he was lost to sight among the trees. - -"That advice sounds eminently fair and reasonable," Webster yelled after -him, and was about to follow when he observed that the young man had -abandoned his pretty little silver-chased walking stick. - -"That's too nice a little stick to leave to these brigands," he thought, -and forthwith possessed himself of it and the pop-eyed man's knife, -after which he tarried not upon the order of his going but went, -departing at top speed. - -The young man he had saved from being butchered was right. An entangling -alliance with the police was, decidedly, not to John Stuart Webster's -liking, for should, he, unfortunately, form such an alliance, he would -be haled into court as a witness and perhaps miss the steamer to San -Buenaventura. - -"Drat it," he soliloquized, as he emerged from the square and observed -his taxi parked at the entrance to the market, "I came through that -square so fast I haven't the slightest idea what the last half of it -looks like. That's what I get for mixing in a little Donnybrook that's -none of my business." - -He had planned to spend an hour in the market, drink a cup of _caf -noir_, smoke a cigarette, and return to his hotel in time for a -leisurely breakfast, but his recent bout with grim reality had blunted -the edge of romance. He ordered his driver to take him back to the -hotel, sprang inside and congratulated himself on his lucky escape. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -|WEBSTER'S trunk went aboard the steamer early the following morning, -and at noon he entered a taxi with his hand baggage and was driven to -the levee where _La Estrellita_ lay tugging gently at her mooring lines. -Owing to the congestion of freight and traffic the chauffeur stopped his -cab a little distance from the gangplank, where Webster discharged him -with a liberal tip. - -The latter, however, swung his passenger's bag and suitcase to the -ground, picked them up and started for the gangplank. - -"Never mind my baggage, lad," Webster called after him. "One of the deck -boys will care for it." The chauffeur turned. "You've been very generous -with me, sir," he answered, "so I think I had better carry your baggage -aboard. If you permit a deck boy to handle it, you merely have to give -another tip, and that would be sheer wanton waste. Why shouldn't I earn -the one you gave me?" - -"I hadn't figured it out that way, son, so here's another half dollar -for being the only existing specimen of your species in captivity. My -stateroom is No. 34, upper deck, port side," Webster answered, smiling. -The man took the tip eagerly and hurried toward the gangplank; the -quartermaster on duty shouldered a way for him and he darted aboard? - -Webster followed leisurely. At the gangplank the purser's clerk halted -him, examined his tickets and punched them. - -"Where is the other man?" he asked. "You have two tickets here." - -"Oh, that blamed valet of mine," Webster answered, and glanced around as -if in search of that mythical functionary. "It would be like the stupid -fellow to miss the boat," he added. "When he comes----" - -Webster ceased speaking abruptly. He was looking straight into the -malevolent orbs of Pucker-eye, who was standing just behind the clerk at -the foot of the gangplank. - -"I wonder if Popeye's around, also," Webster thought, and he faced -about. Pop-eye was standing in back of him, leaning over the railing of -the gangway. - -"Which is the valet?" the purser's clerk asked, scanning the names on -the tickets. - -"Andrew Bowers." - -"All right, Mr. Webster," the other answered, with that genial -camaraderie that seems inseparable from all of his calling. "When Andrew -comes I'll send him aboard." - -He started to pass the tickets back to Webster, but a detaining hand -rested on his arm, while a dark thumb and forefinger lifted the trailing -strips of tickets. Pucker-eye was examining them also. - -He sent his elbow backward violently into Pucker-eye's midriff and shook -him off roughly. - -"What do you mean, you black-and-tan hound?" he demanded. "Since when -did you begin to O. K. my work?" - -Pucker-eye made no reply to this stern reproof. He accepted the elbow -with equanimity, and faced Webster with an evil smile that indicated -mutual recognition. - -"Bueno," he said, with such genuine satisfaction that Webster could not -help demanding: - -"_Por que es bueno?_ (Why is it good?)" - -"We meet the senor first in the teeket office. We meet the senor again -yesterday morning, no? After, we remember we have meet the senor in the -teeket office! _Quien sabe?_ The senor he ees sail on _La Estrellita_ -for San Buenaventura, no?" - -"So you came nosing around to see about it, eh? Doing a little plain -gumshoe work, I see." - -Pucker-eye bowed. By the simple exercise of courage and bad manners he -had looked at John Stuart Webster's ticket and was now familiar with his -name and destination. - -The object of this solicitude had little difficulty in guessing the -reason behind it all, and he was not happy. He would have preferred that -the incident of their former meeting should not be held against him; he -wished most devoutedly that his part in the ruction in Jackson Square -on Sunday morning might have been forgotten by all concerned, and this -revival of the unpleasant episode was slightly disconcerting. - -As a usual thing he was loth to interject himself in the affairs of -other people, and had a deep-seated animosity against those who did; he -would have preferred to round out his existence without having to take -into consideration the presence of a twin Nemesis. However, since the -fat was in the fire, so to speak, Webster felt that there was nothing -for him to do save brazen things out as best he could, so he glowered -darkly at Pucker-eye and said: - -"Well, you scoundrelly cutthroat, what are you going to do about it? Try -a little of your knife work on me, I suppose?" - -Pucker-eye did not answer, but his beady glance wavered and shifted -before the cool, contemptuous menace of Webster's blue eyes. - -"Listen, _hombre_," Webster continued. "I know your kind of people like -a nigger knows cologne. I know what you'd like to do to me in exchange -for what I did to you yesterday morning, but you take a tip from me and -don't try it, or one of these days they'll be walking slow behind you -and your _companero_, and you won't know it!" - -The fellow grinned--the kind of grin that is composed of equal parts -of ferocity and knowledge of superior strength. That grin did more to -disconcert Webster than the knowledge that he had earned for himself two -bloodthirsty and implacable enemies, for Pucker-eye was the first of -his breed that Webster had ever seen smile under insult. That cool smile -infuriated him. - -Pucker-eye took out a cigarette case, selected a cigarette, and -presented the case to Webster. His bad manners in selecting his -own cigarette first was deliberate, as Webster knew. It was the -Latin-American's method of showing his contempt. - -"We shall meet again, Meester Webstaire," he said. "May I offer the -senor a cigarette for the--what you Americans call--the keepsake? No?" -He smiled brightly and closed his puckered eye in a knowing wink. - -Webster took his tickets from the purser, folded them, placed them in -his pocket and for a few seconds regarded Pucker-eye contemptuously. - -"When we meet again, you scum," he retorted quietly, "you shall have no -difficulty in remembering me. You may keep your cigarette." - -His long, powerful right arm shot out; like a forceps his thumb and -forefinger closed over Pucker-eve's rather flat nose; he squeezed, and -with a shrill scream of agony Pucker-eye went to his knees. - -Still holding the wretch by his proboscis, Webster turned quickly in -order that his face might be toward Pop-eye. - -"Pop-eye," he said, "if you take a hand in this, I'll twist your nose, -too, and afterward I'll throw you in the river." - -He turned to Pucker-eye. - -"Up, thou curious little one," he said in Spanish, and jerked the -unhappy rascal to his feet. The latter clawed ineffectually at the -terrible arm which held him, until, presently discovering that the -harder he struggled the harder Webster pinched his nose, he ceased his -struggles and hung limply, moaning with pain and rage in the grip of the -American. - -"Good!" Webster announced, slacking his grip a little. With his left -hand he deftly extracted a hair from each flank of the screaming -little scoundrel's scant moustache, and held them before the latter's -tear-filled eyes. - -"My friend," he said gently, "mark how the gringo gives his little dark -brother a lesson in deportment. Behold, if I have given thee a souvenir -of our meeting, I also have taken one. By this pinched and throbbing -nose shall I be remembered when I am gone; by these hairs from thy rat's -moustache shall I remember thee. Go, and thrust not that nose into a -gringo's business again. It is unsafe." - -He released Pucker-eye, nodded brightly to the purser's clerk and -quartermaster, who, spellbound and approving, had watched him mete out -retribution according to his code, and went aboard, just as an -assistant steward came hurrying along the deck beating a lusty solo on a -triangle--the signal for all non-passengers to go ashore. - -Webster made his way through the crowd to his room, looked in, saw that -his baggage was there, and walked around on the starboard side to join -in the general farewell of all on board to the crowd on the levee. - -At the shore end of the gangplank Pucker-eye and Pop-eye still waited. -The unfortunate Pucker-eye was weeping with pain and futile rage and -humiliation, but Webster noticed that Pop-eye's attention was not on -his friend but upon each passenger that boarded the ship, of which there -were the usual number of late arrivals. As each passenger approached, -Pop-eye scanned him with more than casual interest. - -Webster smiled. "Looking for that valet they heard me talking about," he -reflected. "Pop-eye, you're a fine, capable lad. I thought you had the -brains of the two. You're not going away until you've had a chance to -size up the reinforcements at my command, are you?" - -Promptly at one o'clock the captain mounted the bridge and ordered the -gangplank drawn ashore. The breastline was cast off; with a long-drawn -bellow from her siren the wheel of _La Estrellita_ commenced to churn -the muddy water and her bow swung gently outboard, while the stern line -acted as a spring. With the stern line slackened and cast overboard the -vessel pushed slowly out into the stream where the current caught her -and swung her in a wide arc. Webster watched Pucker-eye and Pop-eye -leave the landing arm in arm. Pop-eye was sporty enough to wave at him, -and Webster, not to be outdone in kind, waved back. - -He lighted a cigar and leaned over the rail as the steamer, gathering -speed, swept down river. - -"Good-bye, you golden fizz and chicken gumbo," he called, as the city -receded and the low, wooded shores below the city came into view. He had -forgotten Pucker-eye and Pop-eye in the flood of poignant regret that -swept over him at the memory of the peerless Antoine! - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -|WHEN he had finished his cigar he cast the stump overboard, watched it -until it disappeared astern, and then went around to state-room No. -34. As he stepped in, and closed the door a masculine voice said very -pleasantly: - -"How do you do?" - -Mr. Webster looked up and beheld a young man, arrayed in a very fancy -pair of light blue silk pyjamas, stretched at his ease in the upper -berth. In his right hand he held an open book; his left hand grasped his -bare right foot, which he was rubbing comfortably; in his mouth he held -an aromatic Turkish cigarette. He was very much at home, no doubt of -that, for he was smiling in the friendliest fashion imaginable. - -John Stuart Webster stared at the stranger for several seconds and -concluded he was invading the sanctity of another's stateroom. "Excuse -me," he said, "I guess I'm in the right church but the wrong pew," -and he stepped out and looked for the number on the stateroom. To -his surprise it _was_ No. 34 after all, so he stepped back into the -stateroom and favoured the stranger with another scrutiny. - -"It does appear to me, my friend," he said presently, "that I detect -something strangely familiar about your pyjamas." - -"I wouldn't be the least bit surprised, Mr. Webster. I found them in -your suitcase." - -"Well, how do you do?" Webster declared. "Pretty well, all things -considered. May I offer you one of your own cigarettes? I found them in -the suitcase also, and can recommend them highly." - -"Thank you very much." Webster helped himself to a cigarette and sat -down on the settee. Fell a silence of perhaps half a minute. Then: - -"I dislike to appear inquisitive," Webster began, "but the fact is, -neighbour, I'm curious to know where you got that book. I observe you -are reading Samuel Butler's 'Way of all Flesh,' and that the book is -slightly damaged. Recently I purchased such a book in----" - -"Pray do not take the trouble to explain," the other answered airily. "I -discovered this excellent book in your suitcase also. In fact, for me, -that suitcase has proved to be a repository of treasures." John Stuart -Webster's neck came out of his collar with the suddenness of a turtle -snapping at a fly; he drew himself up beside the top berth until his -face was on a level with his unbidden guest's, upon whom he bent a look -of mingled emotions. On his part the stranger returned his gaze with -grave interest, and when the silence threatened to become embarrassing -he said: - -"Will you have the goodness to press that button? I think we should -drink a bumper to our better acquaintance and I have no doubt but that -the barkeeper on this packet can manufacture a golden fizz. Do you care -for the famous New Orleans golden fizz?" - -"It is a wonderful institution," Webster replied, "and I'll have one. -I need it to sustain me, for I am faint with amazement." He pressed the -button. "'While the golden fizz is fizzing," he continued, "suppose you -let me have a look at your ticket." - -"Ticket?" echoed his visitor. "I haven't any ticket. A kind gentleman -bought one for me and has it in his possession. Do you, sir, by any -chance, happen to be that philanthropic individual?" - -"Well, I'll be----" - -"Hush!" the stranger warned, raising an admonitory finger. "No -profanity, please. I have been tenderly reared and cuss words will -only shock me and clog the atmosphere. I'm here to do you and do you -a delicate brown, so bear up, kind sir, and take your walloping like a -sport." - -"Who the devil are you?" John Stuart Webster demanded. - -"I regret I have no card, but even if I had it would be no kindness to -inflict upon an American gentleman the cognomen my parents honoured me -with, for it is long and many-jointed, like a peanut, and embodies the -names of all the saints in the calendar. Moreover, just at present I am -travelling under an alias. I am known as Mr. Andrew Bowers." - -"And your occupation?" Webster managed to articulate. - -"Valet de chambre to that prince of gentlemen, Mr. John S. Webster," the -other replied with a mischievous gleam in his dark eyes. - -Mr. Webster sat down limply on the settee. He was undecided whether -to roar with laughter or shriek with rage; while he struggled for a -decision Andrew Bowers blew smoke rings at the ceiling. - -"Haven't I seen you before?" Webster queried presently. - -"I wouldn't be surprised. I drove you down to the steamer in a taxi half -an hour ago. You will recall that the taxi driver carried your luggage -aboard." - -Webster gazed around the stateroom. "Where have you hidden your livery?" -he demanded. - -"I wrapped it in a newspaper; then, seeking a moment when the deck -outside was deserted, I stepped forth in my--I beg your pardon, -your--pyjamas and tossed it overboard." - -"But apparently you did not bring aboard with you a suit of clothes to -take the place of your livery?" - -"Quite true--lamentably so, Mr. Webster. Perhaps you will accept my -desperate need as an excuse for borrowing your pyjamas. I notice you -have another suit of them. Fortunate man!" - -When confronted by something mysterious it was not John Stuart's habit -to ask innumerable questions, and for the space of two minutes he gave -himself up to deduction and a close scrutiny of his companion. - -Andrew Bowers was a man of perhaps thirty years, five feet ten inches -tall, and apparently in excellent health. He might have weighed a -hundred and seventy pounds and he was undeniably handsome. His head -was nobly formed and covered with thick, wavy hair, shiny and black as -ebony; his eyes were dark blue; the eyebrows, thick but fine and silky, -almost met over the bridge of a thin, high nose that was just a trifle -too long for his face. Webster decided it was the nose of a thinker. -Andrew Bowers's forehead was broad and high and his head was thick -forward of the ears, infallible sign of brains; his mouth and chin -were full of determination, although capable of a smile of singular -sweetness; while the skin on his legs was milk-white, his hands and face -were tanned to the colour of a manzanita stick, seeming to indicate that -he had lived an outdoor life. - -While Webster was wondering whether his companion was merely a -high-class tramp or an absconding bank cashier, a knock sounded on the -stateroom door. He opened it and the purser stood in the entrance. - -"Tickets, please?" he announced. - -Webster surrendered both tickets, receiving in turn two seat checks for -the dining saloon, and the purser passed on to the next cabin. - -Andrew Bowers smiled a small, prescient smile, but said nothing and -presently John Stuart Webster broke the silence. "Well," he ordered -"sing the song or tell the story." - -"I noticed you surrendered my ticket to the purser," the young man -answered irrelevantly, "and I am glad of that. I take it as _prima -facie_ evidence that you have made up your mind to accept my company." - -"You're too infernally cool and cocksure, my friend," Webster warned him -testily. "I pride myself on a sense of humour and I dearly love a joke -until it's carried too far, but be advised in time, young man, and don't -try to play horse with me. I haven't made up my mind to accept your -company, although, provided you do not rub my fur the wrong way, I may -decide to put up with you, for whether you are a decayed gentleman or -an engaging scoundrel, you are, at least, intelligent and impressive, -clean, white, resourceful, and pleasant. However, my acceptance or -non-acceptance of you is a subject for future discussion, since at -present we have some fiduciary matters before us. You owe me fifty -dollars for your ticket, Andrew Bowers, and in view of the fact that I -never saw you before to-day, suppose we start the voyage by squaring the -account." - -Andrew Bowers sat up in the berth and let his legs drape over the side. -"Mr. Webster," he began seriously, "had I sung my song or told my story -before you surrendered that ticket to the purser I might have found -myself in a most embarrassing predicament. If, prior to the arrival -of the purser to collect the tickets, you had handed my ticket to me, -saying: 'Here is your ticket, Mr. Bowers. Be kind enough to reimburse me -to the extent of fifty dollars,' I should have been compelled to admit -then, as I do now, that I haven't fifty dollars. Fortunately for me, -however, you surrendered the ticket to the purser before acquainting -yourself with the state of my fortunes; the voyage has commenced and -whether you like it or not, my dear sir, I am your guest from now until -we reach San Buenaventura. Rather an interesting situation, don't you -think?" - -John Stuart Webster was of Scotch ancestry. He had an hereditary regard -for his baubees. He was a business man. Prodigal spender though he was -and generous to a fault, the fact remained that he always made it a -point to get value received, and he was prodigal with his own money; he -preferred that the privilege of prodigality with the Websterian funds -should remain an inalienable prerogative of the sole surviving member -of the Webster family. He gazed contemplatively now upon his -devil-may-care, unbidden guest, torn between a desire to whisk him out -of the berth and shake him until his teeth fell out, and another to be -just and patient, in the hope that some great extenuating circumstance -might be adduced to account for this impudent daylight robbery. Mr. -Webster had been deluded, cheated, robbed, and pillaged many a time and -oft in the course of his rather eventful career, but he had yet to -meet the man who, having swindled him out of fifty dollars, had the -effrontery to add insult to injury by exhibiting a perfectly obvious -intention of making him like it. Indeed, John Stuart Webster was -obsessed with a secret fear that the smiling bandit in the upper berth -was going to succeed in his nefarious design, and, in the contemplation -of this unheard-of _contretemps_, the genial John was struck temporarily -speechless. - -"The last cent I had in the world went to that taxi person whose taxi I -borrowed and whose old uniform I purchased," Andrew Bowers supplemented -his confession. - -"You asked me to ring for two golden fizzes," Webster reproached him. -"Am I to be stuck for the drinks? Not satisfied with rooking me for a -first-class passage to San Buenaventura you plan to tack on extras, eh?" - -"Oh, I'll pay for the drinks," Andrew Bowers assured him. - -"How can you, if you gave your last cent to that taxi driver?" - -"You tipped me very liberally for carrying your baggage aboard," Andrew -Bowers retorted slyly. - -"Ouch!" cried Mr. Webster, and laughed. The very next instant he was -provoked at himself for having done so. That laugh gave the brigand -Andrew a decided advantage, for it placed Webster on defensive ground. -He was convinced of this when the brigand said: - -"Thanks for that laugh, Mr. Webster. It arouses hope in my sad heart. I -have outraged your patience, your privacy, and your pocketbook--yet you -laughed. _Bueno_. I will be equally good-natured and forgive you for -questioning my sincerity in the matter of dispensing my hospitality; -even the little slur cast on my veracity in the matter of my finances -shall pass unnoticed." - -"I think you're too cool, young man," Webster retorted. "Just a trifle -too cocksure. Up to the present moment you have proffered no evidence -why you should not be adjudged a cad, and I do not like cads and must -decline to permit one to occupy the same stateroom at my expense. You -are clever and amusing and I laughed at you, but at the same time -my sense of humour is not so great as to cause me to overlook your -impudence and laugh with you. Now, if you have anything to say, say it -quickly, because you're going to go away from here--in a hurry." - -"I plead guilty to the indictment, Mr. Webster, and submit as an excuse -the fact that desperate circumstances require desperate measures. I am -not begging my way, neither am I beating it, for the reason that both -forms of travel are repugnant to me. I am merely taking advantage of -certain fortuitous circumstances to force you, an entire stranger, to -extend to me a credit of fifty dollars until we reach San Buenaventura -when you will be promptly reimbursed. I had thought," he added sadly, -"that my face might prove ample security for a fifty-dollar loan. There -has never been a crook in my family and I have never been charged with a -penal offence or been in jail." - -"It is not my habit," Webster retorted stiffly, "to extend credit to -strangers who demand it." - -"I do not demand it, sir. I beg it of you, and because I cannot afford -to be refused I took care to arrange matters so that you would not be -likely to refuse my request. Really, I do not mean to be cocksure and -impudent, but before you throw me out I'd like to let you in on a secret -about yourself." - -"Well?" - -"You're not going to throw me out." - -"Why not?" - -"Because you can't." - -"That's fighting talk. Now, just to prove to you the depth of error -in which you flounder, young man, I am about to throw you out." And he -grasped Andrew Bowers in the grip of a grizzly bear and whisked him out -of the top berth. - -"Wait one second," his helpless victim cried. "I have something to say -before you go any further." - -"Say it," Webster ordered. "Your tongue is the only part of you that I -cannot control." - -"When you throw me out on deck," Andrew Bowers queried, "do your pyjamas -go with me? Does the hair go with the hide?" - -"They cost me sixteen dollars in Salt Lake City, but--good lord, yes. -I can't throw you out mother naked; damn it, I can't throw you out at -all." - -"Didn't I tell you so? Be a good fellow and turn me loose." - -"Certainly--for the time being. You'll stay locked in this stateroom -while I have a talk with the captain. He'll probably dig up a shirt, a -pair of dungarees, and some old shoes for you and set you ashore before -we get out of the river. If he doesn't do that he'll keep you aboard and -you'll shovel coal for your passage." - -"But I'm Andrew Bowers and the purser has collected my first-class -ticket!" - -"What of it? I shall declare--and with truth--that you are not Andrew -Bowers, that you are not my valet, and that I did not buy the ticket for -you. I dare you to face the captain in my pyjamas and prove you aren't a -stowaway." - -"You would win on that point," the baffling guest admitted, "but it is -a point you will not raise. Why? Because I have another trump up my -kimono." He climbed back into the upper berth and from that vantage -point gazed down benevolently upon John Stuart Webster. "I'm -disappointed in you," he continued sadly. "I thought you'd show a -little normal human curiosity about me--and you haven't. You do not -ask questions or I could explain, while I cannot volunteer information -without seeming to seek your pity, and that course would be repugnant -to me. I have never shovelled coal, although I daresay I could manage to -earn my passage as a stoker; indeed, I daresay I shall have to, if you -insist on being belligerent, and if you insist I shall not oppose you. I -am hoping, however, that you will not insist, but that you will, on -the contrary, accept my word of honour that you shall be reimbursed two -hours after you land in San Buenaventura." - -"New music to your song, my friend, but the same old words," Webster -retorted, and stepped to the stateroom door. "You're doomed to shovel -coal or go ashore." - -"Listen. If I go ashore, your responsibility for my life ceases, Mr. -Webster, but if the chief engineer happens to be short one coal-passer -and the captain sends me down to the stokehole, your responsibility for -my death begins, for I'll be put ashore publicly at San Buenaventura -and two hours later I'll be facing a firing squad in the cemetery of the -Catedrl de la Vera Cruz." - -"Gosh," John Stuart Webster murmured dazedly, "I'm afraid I can't take a -chance like that for fifty dollars." - -A knock sounded on the door and Webster opened it. A waiter stood in the -entrance. "Did you ring, sir?" he queried. - -"I did," replied John Stuart Webster. "Bring up two glasses and a quart -of the best wine aboard the ship." - -The waiter hastened away and Webster turned to face the little, cryptic, -humorous smile that made his travelling companion so singularly boyish -and attractive. - -"You win, son," Webster declared. "I'm whipped to a frazzle. Any time -I'm sitting in back of a royal flush and the other fellow bluffs me out -of the pot, I always buy the wine. When it arrives we shall drink to our -better acquaintance. Pending its arrival, please be advised that you are -welcome to my pyjamas, my cigarettes, my book, and my stateroom. You -are my guest and you owe me nothing, except, perhaps, your confidence, -although I do not insist upon that point. Where I come from every man -kills his own snakes." - -And he held up his hand for Andrew Bowers to shake. - -"Mr. Webster," the latter declared feelingly, "I am not a lord of -language, so I cannot find words to thank you. I agree with you that you -are entitled to my confidence. My name is----" - -"Tut, tut, my boy. Your name is Andrew Bowers, and that identifies -you sufficiently for the time being. Your face is a guaranty of your -character and entitles you to a nominal credit." - -"But----" - -"Make me no buts. I care not who you are; perhaps what I do not know -will not distress me. When I suggested that I was entitled to a measure -of your confidence, I meant on a few minor points only--points on which -my curiosity has been abnormally aroused." - -"Very well, my friend. Fire away." - -"Are you an American citizen?" - -"No, I am a citizen of Sobrante." - -"You have assured me that you are not a crook; consequently I know you -are not fleeing from the United States authorities. You had no money to -pay for your passage to San Buenaventura so you schemed to make me pay -your way. Hence I take it that your presence in the capital of your -native country is a matter of extreme importance and that the clerk in -the ticket office of the Caribbean Mail Line is a friend of yours." - -"Quite true. He knew my need." - -"You were under surveillance and could not leave New Orleans for San -Buenaventura unless you left secretly. When I purchased both berths in -this stateroom and the ticket clerk knew I held a firstclass ticket for -a valet that was not, he decided to saw off on me a valet that was. So -he gave you my name and the name of my hotel, you arranged matters -with the taxi starter and the taxi driver and drove me to the steamer. -Disguised in the livery of a chauffeur and carrying hand baggage you -hoped to get aboard without being detected by your enemies who watched -the gangplank." - -Andrew Bowers nodded. - -"Do you think you succeeded?" Webster continued. - -"I do not know, Mr. Webster. I hope so. If I did not--well, the instant -this steamer drops anchor in the roadstead at San Buenaventura, she will -be boarded and searched by the military police, I will be discovered -and----" He shrugged. - -"Lawn party in the cemetery, eh?" Webster suggested. - -Andrew Bowers reached under his pillow and produced two heavy automatic -pistols and a leathern box containing five clips of cartridges. These -he exhibited in silence and then thrust them back under the pillow. - -"I see, Andrew. In case you're cornered, eh? Well, I think I would -prefer to die fighting myself. However, let us hope you will not have to -face any such unpleasant alternative." - -"I'm not worried, Mr. Webster. Somehow, I think I ran the gauntlet -safely." - -"But why did you throw your livery overboard?" - -"It was of no further use to me. A chauffeur on shipboard would be most -incongruous, and the sight of the livery hanging on yonder peg would be -certain to arouse the curiosity of the room steward. And I'm not going -to appear on deck throughout the voyage, might meet somebody who knows -me." - -"But you'll have to have some clothes in which to go ashore, you amazing -man." - -"Not at all. The steamer will arrive in the harbour of San Buenaventura -late in the afternoon--too late to be given pratique that day. After -dark I shall drop overboard and endeavour to swim ashore, and in view of -that plan clothes would only prove an embarrassment. I shall land in my -own country naked and penniless, but once ashore I shall quickly find -shelter. I'll have to risk the sharks, of course." - -"Man-eaters?" - -"The bay is swarming with them." - -"You're breaking my heart," Webster declared sympathetically. "I suppose -you're going to feign illness throughout the voyage." - -"Not the land of illness that will interfere with my appetite. I have -prescribed for myself a mild attack of inflammatory rheumatism, as an -excuse for remaining in bed and having my meals brought to me. This -service, of course, will necessitate some slight expense in the way of -tips, but I am hoping you will see your way clear to taking care of that -for your guest." - -Silently Webster handed Andrew Bowers ten dollars in silver. "That ought -to hold you," he declared. "For the rest, you're up to some political -skullduggery in Sobrante, and what it is and what's your real name are -two subjects in which I am not interested. I am on a vacation and intend -to amuse myself. If I find you as amusing as you appear at the outset -of our acquaintance I shall do my best to break the tedium of your -confinement in this stateroom and if I find you dull I shall leave you -to your own devices. Let us talk anything but business and personalities -and let it be understood that you are my valet, Andrew Bowers. That's -all I know about you and that's all I care to know about you. In fact, -the less I know about you the less will I have to explain in the event -of your sudden demise." - -"Fair enough," quoth Andrew Bowers. "You're a man after my own heart. I -thank you." - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -|PRIOR to leaving New Orleans, Webster had cabled Billy Geary that he -was taking passage on _La Estrellita_ and stating the approximate date -of his arrival at San Buenaventura--which information descended upon -that young man with something of the charm of a gentle rainfall over a -hitherto arid district. He had been seeing Dolores Ruey at least once -a day ever since her return to Sobrante; indeed, only the fear that he -might wear out his welcome prevented him from seeing her twice a day. He -was quick, therefore, to seize upon Webster's cablegram as an excuse -to call upon Dolores and explain the mystery surrounding his friend's -nonappearance. - -"Well, Dolores," he began, in his excitement calling her by her first -name for the first time, "they say it's a long lane that hasn't got a -saloon at the end of it. I've heard from Jack Webster." - -"What's the news, Bill?" Dolores inquired. From the first day of their -acquaintance she had been growing increasingly fond of Geary; for nearly -a week she had been desirous of calling him Bill, which is a comfortable -name and, to Dolores's way of thinking, a peculiarly appropriate -cognomen for such a distinctly American young man. At mention of the -beloved word he glanced down at her pleasurably. - -"Thank you," he said. "I'm glad you got around to it finally. Those that -love me always call me Bill." - -"You called me Dolores." - -"I move we make it unanimous. I'm a foe to formality." - -"Second the motion, Bill. So am I--when I care to be--and in our case -your formality is spoiling our comradeship. And now, with reference to -the extraordinary Senor Webster----" - -"Why, the poor old horse has been down with ptomaine poisoning. They -carried him off the train at St. Louis and stood him on his head -and pumped him out and just did manage to cancel his order for a new -tombstone. He says he's feeding regularly again and has booked -passage on _La Estrellita_, so we can look for him on the next steamer -arriving." - -"Oh, the poor fellow!" Dolores murmured--so fervently that Billy was on -the point of hurling his heart at her feet on the instant. - -The thousand dollars Webster had cabled Billy "for a road-stake" had -been dwindling rapidly under the stimulus of one continous opportunity -to spend the same in a quarter where it was calculated to bring the -most joy. The pleasures of the Sobrantean capital were not such that the -average Yankee citizen might be inspired to prefer them with any degree -of enthusiasm, but such as they were, Dolores Ruey had them all. In a -country where the line between pure blood and mixed is drawn so -strictly as it is in Sobrante, Billy Geary was, of course, a social -impossibility. He was a Caucasian who would shake hands and have a drink -with a gentleman whose nails showed blue at the bases, for all his white -skin--and in the limited upper-class circles of Buenaventura, where none -but pure-bred descendants of purebred Castilians intermingled, the man -or woman who failed, however slightly, to remember at all times that he -was white, was distinctly _persona non grata_. - -The first time Billy appeared in public riding in the same victoria with -Mother Jenks and Dolores, therefore, he was fully aware that for the -future Dolores Ruey was like himself, socially defunct in Sobrante. -However, he did not care, for he had a sneaking suspicion Dolores was -as indifferent as he; in fact, he took a savage delight in the knowledge -that the girl would be proscribed, for with Dolores cut off from all -other society she must, of necessity, turn to him throughout her visit. -So, up to the night _La Estrellita_, with John Stuart Webster on board, -dropped anchor on the quarantine-ground, Mr. Geary was the unflagging -ballyhoo for a personally conducted tour of Dolores Ruey's native land -within a radius of fifteen miles about Buenaventura. He was absolutely -bogged in the quagmire of his first love affair, but until his mining -concession should amply justify an avowal of his passion, an instinctive -sense of the eternal fitness of things reminded Billy of the old proverb -that a closed mouth catches no flies. And in the meantime (such is the -optimism of youth) he decided there was no need for worry, for when a -girl calls a fellow Bill, when she tells him he's a scout and doesn't -care a whoop for any society except his--_caramba!_ it's great! - -A wireless from Webster warned Billy of the former's imminent arrival. -Just before sunset Billy and Dolores, riding along the Malecon, sighted -a blur of smoke far out to sea--a blur that grew and grew until they -could make out the graceful white hull of _La Estrellita_, before -the swift tropic night descended and the lights of the great vessel -shimmered across the harbour. - -"Too late to clear quarantine to-night," Billy mourned, as he and -Dolores rode back to her hotel. "All the same, I'm going to borrow the -launch of my good friend Leber and his _protg_ Don Juan Cafetro, and -go out to the steamer to-night. I can heave to a little way from the -steamer and welcome the old rascal, anyhow; he'll be expecting me to do -that, and I wouldn't disappoint him for a farm." - -Fortunately, good little Leber consented to Billy's request, and Don -Juan Cafetro was sober enough to turn the engine over and run the -launch. From the deck of the steamer Webster, smoking his postprandial -cigar, caught sight of the launch's red and green sidelights chugging -through the inky blackness; as the little craft slid up to within a -cable's-length of the steamer and hove to, something told Webster that -Billy Geary would soon be paging him. He edged over to the rail. - -"That you, Bill?" he shouted. - -"Hey! Jack, old pal!" Billy's delighted voice answered him. - -"I knew you'd come, Billy boy." - -"I knew you'd know it, Johnny. Can't come aboard, you know, until the -ship clears, but I can lie off here and say hello. How is your internal -mechanism?" - -"Grand. I've got the world by the tail on a down-hill haul once more, -son. However, your query reminds me I haven't taken the medicine the -doctor warned me to take after meals for a couple of weeks. Wait a -minute, Bill, until I go to my stateroom and do my duty by my stomach." - -For ten minutes Billy and Don Juan Cafetro bobbed about in the launch; -then a stentorian voice shouted from the steamer. "Hey, you! In the -launch, there. Not so close. Back off." - -Don Juan kicked the launch back fifty feet. "That will do!" the voice -called again. - -"Hello!" Billy soliloquized. "That's Jack Webster's voice. I've heard -him bossing a gang of miners too often not to recognize that -note of command. Wonder what he's up to. I thought he acted -strangely--preferring medicine to me the minute I hailed him!" - -While he was considering the matter, a voice behind him said very softly -and indistinctly, like a man with a harelip: - -"Mr. Geary, will you be good enough to back your launch a couple of -hundred feet? When I'm certain I can't be seen from the steamer, I'll -come aboard." Billy turned, and in the dim light of his binnacle lamp -observed a beautiful pair of white hands grasping the gunwale on the -starboard quarter. He peered over and made out the head and shoulders of -a man. - -"All right," he replied in a low voice. "Hang where you are, and you'll -be clear of the propeller." - -He signalled Don Juan, who backed swiftly away, while Billy doused the -binnacle lamp. - -"That'll do," the thick voice said presently. "Bear a hand, friend, and -I'll climb over." - -He came, as naked as Mercury, sprawled on his belly in the cockpit, -opened his mouth, spat out a compact little roll of tinfoil, opened it -and drew out a ball of paper which he flattened out on the floor of the -cockpit and handed up to Billy. - -"Thank you," he said, very courteously and distinctly now. "My -credentials, Mr. Geary, if you please." - -Billy re-lighted the lamp and read: - -Dear Billy: - -I do not know the bearer from Adam's off ox; all I know about him is -that he has all the outward marks of a gentleman, the courage of a -bear-cat, a sense of humor and a head for which the Prsidente of -Sobrante will gladly pay a considerable number of _pesos oro_. Don't -give up the head, because I like it and we do not need the money--yet. -Take him ashore without anybody knowing it; hide him, clothe him, feed -him--then forget all about him. - -Ever thine, - -J. S. Webster. - -"Kick the boat ahead again, Cafferty," Billy ordered quietly. He turned -to the late arrival. - -"Mr. Man, your credentials are all in apple-pie order. Do you happen to -know this bay is swarming with man-eating sharks?" - -The man raised a fine, strong, youthful face and grinned at him. -"Hobson's choice, Mr. Geary," he replied. "Afloat or ashore, the sharks -are after me. Sir, I am your debtor." He crawled into the cabin and -stretched out on the settee as John Stuart Webster's voice came floating -across the dark waters. "Hey, Billy!" - -"Hey, yourself!" - -"Everything well with you, Billy?" - -"All is lovely, Jack, and the goose honks high. By the way, that friend -of yours called with his letter of introduction. I took care of him." - -"Thanks. I suppose you'll call for me in that launch to-morrow morning?" - -"Surest thing you know, Jack. Good-night, old top." - -"Good-night, Billy. See you in the morning." Don Juan Cafetra swung -the launch and headed back for the city. At Leber's little dock Billy -stepped ashore, while Don Juan backed out into the dark bay again in -order to avoid inquisitive visitors. Billy hastened to El Buen Amigo -and returned presently with a bundle of clothes; at an agreed signal Don -Juan kicked the launch into the dock again and Billy went aboard. - -"Hat, shirt, necktie, duck suit, white socks, and shoes," he whispered. -"Climb into them, stranger." Once more the launch backed out in the bay, -where Webster's _protg_ dressed at his leisure, and Billy handed Don -Juan a couple of pesos. - -"Remember, John," he cautioned the bibulous one as they tied up for the -night, "nothing unusual happened to-night." - -"Divil a thing, Misther Geary. Thank you, sor," the Gaelic wreck replied -blithely and disappeared in the darkness, leaving Billy to guide the -stranger to El Buen Amigo, where he was taken into the confidence of -Mother Jenks and, on Billy's guarantee of the board bill, furnished with -a room and left to his own devices. - -***** - -John Stuart Webster came down the gangplank into Leber's launch hard on -the heels of the port doctor. - -"You young horse-thief," he cried affectionately. "I believe it's the -custom down this way for men to kiss each other. We'll dispense with -that, but by----" He folded Billy in a paternal embrace, then held him -at arm's length and looked him over. - -"Lord, son," he said, "you're as thin as a snake. I'll have to feed you -up." - -As they sped toward the landing, he looked Billy over once more. "I -have it," he declared. "You need a change of climate to get rid of that -malaria. Just show me this little old mining claim of yours, Bill, and -then hike for God's country. Three months up there will put you right -again, and by the time you get back, we'll be about ready to weigh the -first cleanup." - -Billy shook his head. "I'd like to mighty well, Jack," he replied, "but -I just can't." - -"Huh! I suppose you don't think I'm equal to the task of straightening -out this concession of yours and making a hummer out of it, eh?" - -The young fellow looked across at him sheepishly. "Mine?" he jeered. -"Who's talking about a mine. I'm thinking of a girl!" - -"Oh!" - -"Some girl, Johnny." - -"I hope she's not some parrakeet," Webster bantered. "Have you looked up -her pedigree?" - -"Ah-h-h!" Billy spat over the side in sheer disgust. "This is an -American girl--born here, but white--raised in the U. S. A. I've only -known her three weeks, but--ah!" And Billy kissed his hand into space. - -"Well, I'm glad I find you so happy, boy. I suppose you're going to -let your old Jack-partner give her the once-over and render his report -before you make the fatal leap--eh?" - -"Sure! I want you to meet her. I've been telling her all about you, and -she's crazy to meet you." - -"Good news! I had a good friend once--twice--three times--and lost him -every time. Wives get so suspicious of their husband's single friends, -you know, so hope I make a hit with your heart's desire, Billy. When -do you pull off the wedding?" - -"Oh," said Billy, "that's premature, Jack. I haven't asked her. How -could I until I'm able to support her?" - -"Look here, son," Webster replied, "don't you go to work and be the kind -of fool I was. You get married and take a chance. If you do, you'll have -a son sprouting into manhood when you're as old as I. A man ought to -marry young, Bill. Hang the odds. I know what's good for you." - -At the hotel, while Webster shaved and arrayed himself in an immaculate -white duck suit, with a broad black silk belt, buck shoes, and a Panama -hat. Billy sent a note to Dolores, apprising her that John Stuart -Webster had arrived--and would she be good enough to receive them? - -Miss Ruey would be that gracious. She was waiting for them in the -veranda just off the _patio_, outwardly calm, but inwardly a foment of -conflicting emotions. As they approached she affected not to see them -and turning, glanced in the opposite direction; nor did she move her -head until Billy's voice, speaking at her elbow, said: - -"Well, Dolores, here's my old Jack-partner waiting to be introduced. -Jack, permit me to present Miss Dolores Ruey." - -She turned her face and rose graciously, marking with secret triumph -the light of recognition that; leaped to his eyes, hovered there the -hundredth part of a second and departed, leaving those keen, quizzical -blue orbs appraising her in the most natural manner imaginable. Webster -bowed. . - -"It is a great happiness to meet you, Miss Ruey," he said gravely. - -Dolores gave him her hand. "You have doubtless forgotten, Mr. Webster, -but I think we have met before." - -"Indeed!" John Stuart Webster murmured interestedly. "So stupid of me -not to remember. Where did we meet?" - -"He has a profound sense of humour," she soliloquized. "He's going to -force me into the open. Oh, dear, I'm helpless." Aloud she said: "On -the train in Death Valley last month, Mr. Webster. You came aboard with -whiskers." - -Webster shook his head slowly, as if mystified. "I fear you're mistaken, -Miss Ruey. I cannot recall the meeting, and if I ever wore whiskers, no -human being would ever be able to recognize me without them. Besides, I -wasn't on the train in Death Valley last month. I was in Denver--so you -must have met some other Mr. Webster." - -She flushed furiously. "I didn't think I could be mistaken," she -answered a trifle coldly. - -"It is my misfortune that you were," he replied graciously. "Certainly, -had we met at that time, I should not have failed to recognize you now. -Somehow, Miss Ruey, I never have any luck." - -She was completely outgeneralled, and having the good sense to realize -it, submitted gracefully. "He's perfectly horrible," she told herself, -"but at least he can lie like a gentleman--and I always did like that -kind of man." - -So they chatted on the veranda until luncheon was announced and Dolores -left them to go to her room. - -"Well?" Billy queried the moment she was out of earshot. "What do you -think, Johnny?" - -"I think," said John Stuart Webster slowly, "that you're a good picker, -Bill. She's my ideal of a fine young woman, and my advice to you is to -marry her. I'll grub-stake you. Bill, this stiff collar is choking me; I -wish you'd wait here while I go to my room and rustle up a soft one." - -In the privacy of his room John Stuart Webster sat down on his bed and -held his head in his hands, for he had just received a blow in the solar -plexus and was still groggy; there was an ache in his head, and the -quizzical light had faded from his eyes. Presently, however, he -pulled himself together and approaching the mirror looked long at his -weather-beaten countenance. - -"Too old," he murmured, "too old to be dreaming dreams." - -He changed to a soft collar, and when he descended to the _patio_ to -join Billy once more he was, to all outward appearances, his usual -unperturbed self, for his was one of those rare natures that can derive -a certain comfort from the misery of self-sacrifice--and in that five -minutes alone in his room John Stuart Webster had wrestled with the -tragedy of his life and won. - -He had resolved to give Billy the right of way on the highway to -happiness. - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -|LATE in the afternoon of the day of his arrival in Buenaventura, in the -cool recess of the deep veranda flanking the western side of the _patio_ -of the Hotel Mateo, John Stuart Webster sat in a wicker chair, cigar in -mouth, elbows on knees, hands clasping a light Malacca stick, with the -end of which he jabbed meditatively at a crack in the recently sprinkled -tiled floor, as if punctuating each bitter thought that chased its -predecessor through his somewhat numbed brain. - -In Mr. Webster's own whimsical phraseology, his clock had been fixed, -on the instant he recognized in the object of his youthful partner's -adoration the same winsome woman he had enthroned in his own secret -castle of love. From that precise second Billy's preserve was as safe -from encroachment by his friend as would be a bale of Confederate -currency in an armour-steel vault on the three-thousand-foot level of -a water-filled mine. Unfortunately for Webster, however, while he knew -himself fairly well, he was not aware of this at the time. Viewed in the -light of calmer reflection, Mr. Webster was quite certain he had made a -star-spangled monkey of himself. - -He sought solace now in the fact that there had been mitigating -circumstances. Throughout the entire journey from the steamer to the -hotel, Billy had not once mentioned in its entirety the name of his -adored one. In any Spanish-American country the name Dolores is not so -uncommon as to excite suspicion; and Webster who had seen the mercurial -William in and out of many a desperate love affair in the latter's -brittle teens and early twenties, attached so little importance to -this latest outbreak of the old disease that it did not occur to him to -cross-examine Billy, after eliciting the information that the young man -had not lost his heart to a local belle. - -The knowledge that Billy's inamorata was an American girl served to -clear what threatened to be a dark atmosphere, and so Webster promptly -had dismissed the subject. - -Any psychologist will tell one that it is quite possible for a person to -dream, in the short space of a split second, of events which, if really -consummated, would involve the passage of days, weeks, months, or even -years! Now, Jack Webster was an extra fast thinker, asleep or awake, -and in his mind's eye, as he sat there in the _patio_, he had a dreadful -vision of himself with a delicate spray of lilies of the valley in -the lapel of his dress coat, as he supported the malarial Billy to the -altar, there to receive the promise of Dolores to love, honour, and -obey until death them did part. As the said Billy's dearest friend and -business associate--as the only logical single man available--the job -was Webster's without a struggle. _Diablo!_ Why did people persist in -referring to such runners-up in the matrimonial handicap as _best_ men, -when at the very least calculation the groom was the winner? - -That wedding party was the very least of the future events Mr. Webster's -hectic imagination conjured up. In the course of time (he reflected), -a baby would doubtless arrive to bless the Geary household. Godfather? -John Stuart Webster, of course. And when the fruit of that happy union -should be old enough to "ride horsey," who but the family friend would -be required to get down on all fours and accommodate the unconscious -tyrant? Boy or girl, it would make no difference; whichever way the cat -jumped, he would be known as Uncle Jack; Billy would drag him up to the -house once or twice a week, and he would go for the sake of the baby; -then they would make him stay all night, and Mrs. Billy would sigh and -try to smile when she detected cigarette ashes on the chiffonier in the -spare bedroom--infallible sign that there was a bachelor about. Besides, -happily married women have a mania for marrying off their husband's -bachelor friends, and Mrs. Billy might scout up a wife for him--a wife -he didn't want--and----No, he would _not_ be the family friend. Nobody -should ever Uncle Jack him if he could help it, and the only way to -avoid the honour would be to eschew the job of best man, to resolve, in -the very beginning of things, to beware of entangling friendships. Thus, -as in a glass darkly, John Stuart Webster, in one illuminating moment, -saw his future, together with his sole avenue of escape. - -All too forcibly Webster realized that Billy's bally-hooing must have -created a favourable impression in Dolores's mind prior to the arrival -of the victim; hence it seemed reasonable to presume that when she -discovered in Billy Geary's Jack Webster her own soiled, ragged, -bewhiskered, belligerent, battered knight, Sir John Stuart Webster of -Death Valley, California, U. S. A., extreme measures would have to be -taken instantly to save the said Webster from being spattered with -a dear old friendship in the future--and a dear old friendship with -Dolores Ruey was something he did not want, had never figured on, and -shuddered at accepting. All things considered, it had appeared wise to -him to challenge, politely but firmly, her suggestion that they had met. - -Of course, Webster had not really thought all this at the time; he had -felt it and acted entirely upon instinct. A little private cogitation, -however, had served to straighten out his thinking apparatus -and-convince him that he had acted hastily--wherefore he would (a still, -small voice whispered) repent at leisure. Dolores had not pressed the -question (he was grateful to her for that), and for as long as five -minutes he had congratulated himself on his success in "putting it over" -on her. Then he had caught her scrutinizing the knuckles of his right -hand; following her glance, he had seen that the crests of two knuckles -were slightly bluish and tender, as new skin has a habit of showing on -tanned knuckles. With a sinking heart he had recalled how painfully and -deeply he had lacerated those knuckles less than a month before on the -strong white teeth of a fat male masher, and while the last ugly shred -of evidence had dropped off a week before, nevertheless to the critical -and discerning eye there was still faint testimony of that fateful -joust--just sufficient to convict! - -He had glanced at her swiftly; she had caught the glance and replied -to it with the faintest possible gleam of mischievous challenge in her -glorious brown orbs; whereupon John Stuart Webster had immediately done -what every honest male biped has been doing since Adam told his first -lie to Eve--blushed, and had drawn a little taunting smile for his -pains. - -As Solomon once remarked, the wicked flee when no man pursueth; and -that smile had scarcely faded before John Stuart Webster had unanimously -resolved upon the course he should have pursued in the first place. He -would investigate Billy's mining concession immediately; provided it -should prove worth while, he would finance it and put the property on a -paying basis; after which he would see to it that the very best doctors -in the city of Buenaventura should inform Billy, unofficially and in the -strictest confidence, that if he desired to preserve the life of Senor -Juan Webstaire, he should forthwith pack that rapidly disintegrating -person off to a more salubrious climate. - -Having made his decision, John Stuart Webster immediately took heart -of hope and decided to lead trumps. He leaned over and slapped Billy -Geary's knee affectionately. - -"Well, Bill, you saffron-coloured old wreck, how long do you suppose -it will take for you to pick up enough strength and courage to do some -active mining? You're looking like food shot from guns." - -"Billy needs a vacation and a change of climate," Dolores declared with -that motherly conviction all womankind feels toward a sick man. - -"So I do, Dolores," Billy replied. "And I'm going to take it. Up there -in the hills back of San Miguel de Padua, the ubiquitous mosquito is -not, the climate is almost temperate--and 'tis there that I would be." - -"You can't start too soon to please me, Billy," Webster declared. "I'm -anxious to get that property on a paying basis, so I can get out of the -country." - -"Why, Johnny," the amazed Billy declared, "I thought you would stay and -help run the mine." - -"Indeed! Well, why do you suppose I spent so much time teaching you how -to run a mine, you young idiot, if not against just such a time as this? -You found this concession and tied it up; I'll finance it and help you -get everything started; but after that, I'm through, and you can manage -it on salary and name the salary yourself. You have a greater interest -in this country than I, William; and so with your kind permission we'll -hike up to that concession tomorrow and give it the double-O; then, if -I can O. K. the property, we'll cable for the machinery I ordered just -before I left Denver, and get busy. We ought to have our first clean-up -within ninety days. What kind of labour have you in this country? -Anything worth while? If not, we'll have to import some white men that -can do things." - -"Gosh, but you're in a hurry," Billy murmured. He had been long enough -in Sobrante to have acquired a touch of the _manana_ spirit of the -lowlands, and he disliked exceedingly the thought of having his -courtship interrupted on a minute's notice. - -"You know me, son. I'm a hustler on the job," Webster reminded him -brutally; "so the sooner you start, the sooner you can get back and -accumulate more malaria. What accommodations have you up there?" - -"None, Jack." - -"Then you had better get some, Billy. I think you told me we have -to take horses at San Miguel de Padua to ride in to the mine." Billy -nodded. "Then you had better buy a tent and bedding for both of us, ship -the stuff up to San Miguel de Padua, go up with it and engage horses, -a good cook, and a couple of reliable _mozos_. When you have everything -ready, telegraph me and I'll come up." - -"Why can't you come up with me?" Billy demanded. - -"I have to see a man, and write some letters and send a cablegram and -wait for an answer. I may have to loaf around here for two or three -days. By the way, what did you do for that friend I sent to letter of -introduction?" - -"Exactly what you told me to do, Johnny" - -"Where is he now?" - -"At El Buen Amigo--the same place where I'm living." - -"All right. We'll not discuss business any more, because we have -finished with the business in hand--at least I have, Billy. When you get -back to your hostelry, you might tell my friend I shall expect him over -to dine with me this evening, if he can manage it." - -For an hour they discussed various subjects; then Billy, declaring -the siesta was almost over and the shops reopening as a consequence, -announced his intention of doing his shopping, said good-bye to Dolores -and Webster, and lugubriously departed on the business in hand. - -"Why are you in such a hurry, Mr. Webster?" Dolores demanded. "You -haven't been in Buenaventura six hours until you've managed to make me -perfectly miserable." - -"I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to." - -"Didn't you know Billy Geary is my personal property?" - -"No, but I suspected he might be. Bill's generous that way. He never -hesitates to give himself to a charming woman." - -"This was a case of mutual self-defense. Billy hasn't any standing -socially, you know. I believe he has been seen shooting craps--isn't -that what you call it?--with gentlemen of more or less colour; then he -appeared in public with me, minus a chaperon--" - -"Fooey!" - -"Likewise fiddlesticks! I should have had the _entre_ to the society -of my father's old friends but for that; when old Mrs. General Maldonado -lectured me (the dear, aristocratic soul conceived it to be her duty) on -the impropriety of appearing on the Male-con with Billy and my guardian, -who happens to be Billy's landlady, I tried to explain our American -brand of democracy, but failed. So I haven't been invited anywhere -since, and life would have been very dull without Billy. He has been a -dear--and you have taken him away." - -Webster laughed. "Well, be patient, Miss Ruey, and I'll give him back -to you with considerably more money than he will require for your joint -comfort. Billy in financial distress is a joy forever, but Billy in -a top hat and a frock coat on the sunny side of Easy Street will be -absolutely irresistible." - -"He's a darling. Ever since my arrival he has dedicated his life to -keeping me amused." She rose. "Despite your wickedness, Mr. Webster, -I am going to be good to you. Billy and I always have five o'clock tea -here in the veranda. Would you care to come to my tea-party?" - -"Nothing could give me greater pleasure," he assured her. - -She nodded brightly to him. "I'm going to run up to my room and put some -powder on my nose," she explained. - -"But you'll return before five o'clock?" Webster was amazed to hear -himself plead. - -"You do not deserve such consideration, but I'll come back in about -twenty minutes," she answered and left him in the spot where we find -him at the opening of this chapter, in pensive mood, jabbing his Malacca -stick into a crack in the tiled floor. - -Presently Webster shuddered. "Good heavens," he soliloquized, "what a -jackass-play I made when I declined to admit we had met before. What -harm could I have accomplished by admitting it? I must be getting old, -because I'm getting cowardly. I'm afraid of myself! When I met that -girl last month, it was in a region that God forgot--and I was a human -caterpillar, which a caterpillar is a hairy, lowly, unlovely thing that -crawls until it is metamorphosed into a butterfly and flies. Following -out the simile, I am now a human butterfly, not recognizable as the -caterpillar to one woman out of ten million; yet she pegs me out at -first. Gad, but she's a remarkable girl! And now I'm in for it. I've -aroused her curiosity; and being a woman, she will not rest until she -has fathomed the reason back of my extraordinary conduct. I think I'm -going to be smeared with confusion. A spineless man like you, Johnny -Webster, stands as much show in a battle of wits with that woman as -a one-legged white man at a coon cakewalk. I'm afraid of her, and I'm -afraid of myself. I'm glad I'm going up to the mine. I'll go as quickly -as I can, and stay as long as I can." - -As Webster viewed the situation, his decision to see as little as -possible of Dolores during his brief stay in Sobrante was a wise one. -The less he saw of her (he told himself), the better for his peace of -mind, for he was forty years old, and he had never loved before. For him -this fever that burned in his blood, this delicious agony that throbbed -in his heart--and all on the very ghost of provocation--were so many -danger-signals, heralds of that grand passion which, coming to a man of -forty, generally lasts him the remainder of his natural existence. - -"This certainly beats the Dutch!" he murmured, and beyond the -peradventure of a doubt, it did. He reflected that all of his life the -impulses of his generous nature had been his undoing. In an excess -of paternalism he had advised Billy to marry the girl and not permit -himself to develop into a homeless, childless, loveless man such as -Exhibit A, there present; following his natural inclination to play any -game,' red or black, he had urged Billy to marry the girl immediately -and had generously offered a liberal subsidy to make the marriage -possible, for he disliked any interference in his plans to make those he -loved happy. And now---- - -Webster was forced to admit he was afraid of himself. His was the -rapidly disappearing code of the old unfettered West, that a man shall -never betray his friend in thought, word, or deed. To John Stuart -Webster any crime against friendship was the most heinous in all the -calendar of human frailty; even to dream of slipping into Billy's shoes -now would be monstrous; yet Webster knew he could not afford a test -of strength between his ancient friendship for Billy and his masculine -desire for a perfect mate. Remained then but one course: - -"I must run like a road-runner," was the way Webster expressed it. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -|DOLORES had been gone an hour before Webster roused from his bitter -introspection sufficiently to glance at his watch. "Hum-m-m!" he grunted -disapprovingly. - -"Oh, I've been here fully half an hour," Dolores's voice assured him. -He turned guiltily and found her leaning against the jamb in a doorway -behind him and farther down the veranda. She was gazing at him with that -calm, impersonal yet vitally interested glance that had so captivated -him the first time he saw her. - -"Well, then"--bluntly--"why didn't you say so?" - -"The surest way to get oneself disliked is to intrude on the moods of -one's friends. Moreover, I wanted to study you in repose. Are you quite -finished talking to yourself and fighting imaginary enemies? If so, -you might talk to me for a change; I'll even disagree with you on any -subject, if opposition will make you any happier." - -He rose and indicated the chair. "Please sit down, Miss Ruey. You are -altogether disconcerting--too confoundedly smart. I fear I'm going to be -afraid of you until I know you better." - -She shrugged adorably and took the proffered chair. "That's the Latin in -her--that shrug," Webster thought. "I wonder what other mixtures go to -make up that perfect whole." - -Aloud he said: "So you wanted to study me in repose? Why waste your -time? I am never in repose." - -"Feminine curiosity, Mr. Webster. Billy has talked so much of you that I -wanted to see if you measured up to the specifications." - -"I don't mind your looking at me, Miss Ruey, but I get fidgety when -you look through me." He was glad he said that, because it made her -laugh--more immoderately, Webster thought, than the circumstances -demanded. Nevertheless he had an insane desire to make her laugh like -that again, to watch her mobile features run the gamut from sweet, -nunlike repose to mirthful riot. - -"I can't help it--really," she protested. "You're so transparent." - -Mr. Webster reflected that doubtless she was right. Men in his fix -generally were pitifully obvious. Nevertheless he was nettled. "Oh, I'm -not so sure of that. I was just accusing myself of being a bonehead, and -bone is opaque." - -"Perhaps I have an X-ray eye," she replied demurely. "However, just to -show you how easy you are to read, I'll not look at your silly head. -Just let me have your hand, and I'll tell you all about yourself." - -"Is there any charge?" - -"Yes, a nominal one. However, I guarantee a truthful reading; if, when -I am through, you are not wholly satisfied, you do not have to pay the -price. Is that a satisfactory arrangement?" - -"Right as a fox," he declared, and held out his great calloused hand. -He thrilled as she took it in both of hers, so soft and beautiful, -and flattened it out, palm upward, on her knee. "A fine, large, useful -hand," she commented musingly. "The callouses indicate recent hard -manual toil with a pick land shovel; despite your recent efforts with -soap and brush and pumice-stone, there still remain evidences of some -foreign matter ingrained in those callous spots. While, of course, I -cannot be certain of my diagnosis without a magnifying glass, I venture -the conjecture that it is a mineral substance, and your hands are so -tanned one can readily see you have been working in the sun--in a very -hot sun, as a matter of fact. Inasmuch as the hottest sun I ever felt -was in Death Valley, as I crossed it on the train last month, your hand -tells me you have been there. - -"The general structure of the hand indicates that you are of a -peace-loving disposition, but are far from being a peace-at-any-price -advocate." She flipped his hand over suddenly. "Ah, the knuckles confirm -that last statement. They tell me you will fight on provocation; while -your fingers are still stiff and thick from your recent severe labours, -nevertheless they indicate an artistic nature, from which I deduce that -upon the occasion when you were in conflict last your opponent received -a most artistic thrashing." - -Webster twitched nervously. "Skip the coarse side of my nature," he -pleaded, "and tell me something nice about myself." - -"I am coming to that. This line indicates that you are very brave, -gentle, and courteous. You are quick and firm in your decisions, but not -always right, because your actions are governed by your heart instead -of your head. Once you have made a decision, you are reckless of the -consequences. Your lifeline tells me you are close to fifty-three years -of age----" - -"Seeress, you're shooting high and to the right," he interrupted, for he -did not relish that jab about his age. "I'll have you know I was forty -years old last month, and that I can still do a hundred yards in twelve -seconds flat--in my working clothes." - -"Well, don't feel peeved about it, Mr. Webster. I am not infallible; the -best you can hope for from me is a high percentage of hits, even if -I did shoot high and to the right that time. In point of worldly -experience you're a hundred and six years old but I lopped off fifty -per cent, to be on the safe side. To continue: You are of an extremely -chivalrous nature--particularly toward young ladies travelling without -chaperons; you are kind, affectionate, generous to a fault, something -of a spendthrift. You will always be a millionaire or a pauper, never -anything between--at least for any great length of time." - -"You've been talking to that callow Bill Geary." Mr. Webster's face was -so red he was sensible of a distinct feeling of relief that she kept her -face bent over his hand. - -"I haven't. He's been talking to me. One may safely depend upon you to -do the unexpected. Your matrimonial line is unbroken, proving you have -never married, although right here the line is somewhat dim and frayed." -She looked up at him suddenly. "You haven't been in love, have you?" she -queried with childlike insouciance. "In love--and disappointed?" - -He nodded, for he could not trust himself to speak. - -"How sad!" she cooed sympathetically. "Did she marry another, or did she -die?" - -"She--she--yes, she died." - -"Cauliflower-tongue, in all probability, carried her off, poor thing! -However, to your fortune: You are naturally truthful and would not make -a deliberate misstatement of fact unless you had a very potent reason -for it. You are sensitive to ridicule; it irks you to be teased, -particularly by a woman, although you would boil in oil rather than -admit it. You never ask impertinent questions, and you dislike those who -do; you are not inquisitive; you never question other people's motives -unless they appear to have a distinct bearing on your happiness or -prosperity; you resent it when anybody questions your motives, and -anybody who knows your nature will not question them. However, you have -a strong sense of sportsmanship, and when fairly defeated, whether in a -battle of fists or a battle of wits, you never hold a grudge, which is -one of the very nicest characteristics a man can have----" - -"Or a woman," he suggested feebly. - -"Quite right. Few woman have a sense of sportsmanship." - -"You have." - -"How do you know?" - -"The witness declines to answer, on the ground that he might incriminate -himself; also I object to the question because it is irrelevant, -immaterial, and not cross-examination." - -"Accepted. You stand a very good chance of becoming a millionaire -in Sobrante, but you must beware of a dark man who has crossed your -path----" - -"Which one?" Webster queried mirthfully. "All coons look alike to -me--Greasers also." - -"Mere patter of our profession, Mr. Webster," she admitted, "tossed in -to build up the mystery element and simulate wisdom. Fortune awaited -you in the United States, but you put it behind you, at the call of -friendship, for a fortune in Sobrante. Now you have reconsidered that -foolish action and at this moment you are contemplating sending a -cablegram to a fat old man who waddles when he walks, recalling your -decision not to accept a certain proposition of a business nature. -However, you are too late. The fat old man with the waddle has made -other arrangements, and if you want to make money, you'll remain in -Sobrante. I think that is all, Mr. Webster." He was gazing at her with -an expression composed of equal parts of awe, amazement, consternation, -adoration, and blank stupidity. - -"Well," she queried innocently, "to quote Billy's colloquial style: did -I put it over?" - -"You did very well for an amateur, but I'm a doubting Thomas. I have to -poke my finger into the wound, so to speak, before I'll believe. About -this fat old man who waddles when he walks: a really topnotch palmist -could tell me his name." - -"Well, I'm only an amateur, but still I think I might, to quote Billy -again, make a stab at it. A little while ago you said I had a strong -sense of sportsmanship. Do you care to bet me about ten dollars I cannot -give you the fat party's initials--all three of them?" - -He gazed at her owlishly. She was the most perfectly amazing girl he -had ever met; he was certain she would win the ten dollars from him, but -then it was worth ten dollars to know for a certainty whether she was -perfect or possessed of a slight flaw; so he silently drew forth a -wallet that would have choked a cow and skinned off a ten-dollar gold -certificate of the United States of America. - -"I'm game," he mumbled. "To quote Billy again: 'Put up or shut up.'" - -"The fat gentleman's initials are E. P. J." - -"By the twelve apostles, Peter, Simon----" - -"Don't blaspheme, Mr. Webster." - -He stood up and shook himself. "When you order the tea," he said very -distinctly, "please have mine cold. I need a bracer after that. Take the -ten. You've won it." - -"Thanks ever so much," she answered in a matter-of-fact tone and tucked -the bill inside of her shirtwaist. "I am a very poor woman and--'Every -little bit added to what you've got makes just a little bit more,'" she -carolled, swaying her lithe, beautiful body and snapping her fingers -like a cabaret dancer. - -He could have groaned with the futility of his overwhelming desire for -her; it even occurred to him what a shame it was to waste a marvel like -her on a callow young pup like Billy, who had fought so many deadly -skirmishes with Dan Cupid that a post-impressionistic painting of the -Geary heart must resemble a pincushion. Then he remembered that this was -an ungenerous, a traitorous thought, and that he had not paid the lady -her fee. - -"Well, what's the tariff?" he asked. - -"You really feel that I have earned a professional's fee?" - -"Beyond a doubt." - -She stood a moment gazing thoughtfully down at the tip of her little -toe, struggling to be quite cool and collected in the knowledge that she -was about to do a daring, almost a brazen thing--wondering with a queer, -panicky little fluttering of her heart if _he_ would think any the less -of her for it. - -"Well--I--that is----" - -"The cauliflower ear is not unknown among pugilists in our own dear -native land, but the cauliflower tongue appears to blossom exclusively -in Sobrante," he suggested wickedly. - -She bit her lips to repress a smile. "Since you have taken Billy away -from me this evening, I shall make you take Billy's place this evening. -After dinner you shall hire an open victoria with two little white -horses and drive me around the Malecon. There is a band concert -to-night." - -"If it's the last act of my wicked life!" he promised fervently. Strange -to relate, in that ecstatic moment no thought of Billy Geary marred the -perfect serenity of what promised to be the most perfectly serene night -in history. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -|THEY were seated at the tiny tea table when the sound of feet crunching -the little shell-paved path through the _patio_ caused Webster and -Dolores to turn their heads simultaneously. Coming toward them was -an individual who wore upon a head of flaming red a disreputable, -conical-crowned straw sombrero; a soiled cotton camisa with the tails -flowing free of his equally soiled khaki trousers, and sandals of the -kind known as _alpargates_--made from the tough fibre of a plant of the -cactus family and worn only by the very lowliest peons--completed his -singular attire. - -"Hello!" Webster murmured whimsically. "Look who's here!" - -"One of Billy's friends and another reason why he has no social -standing," Dolores whispered. "I believe he's going to speak to us." - -Such evidently appeared to be the man's intention. He came to the edge -of the veranda, swept his ruin of a hat from his red head and bowed with -Castilian expansiveness. - -"Yer pardon, Miss, for appearin' before you." She smiled her forgiveness -to what Webster how perceived to be an alcoholic wreck. He was about to -dismiss the fellow with scant ceremony, when Dolores, with that rich -sense of almost masculine humour--a humour that was distinctly -American--said sweetly: - -"Mr. Webster, shake hands with Don Juan Cafetro, _bon vivant_ and man -about town. Don Juan, permit me to present Mr. Webster, from somewhere -in the United States. Mr. Webster is a mining partner of our mutual -friend Mr. William Geary." - -A long, sad descent into the Pit had, however, imbued Don Juan with a -sense of his degradation; he was in the presence of a superior, and he -acknowledged the introduction with a respectful inclination of his head. - -"'Tis you I've called to see, Misther Webster, sor," he explained. - -"Very well, old-timer. In what way can I be of service to you?" - -"'Tis the other way around, sor, if ye plaze, an' for that same there's -no charrge, seein' ye're the partner, av that fine, kind gintleman, -Misther Geary Sure 'tis he that's the free-handed lad wit' his money -whin he has it, God bless him, an' may the heavens be his bed, although -be the same token I can see wit' the half av an eye that 'tis yerself -thinks nothin' av a dollar, or five, for that matther. However, sor, -that's neither here nor there. Did ye, whilst in New Orleans, have -d'alings wit' a short, shtout spiggoty wit' a puckered scar undher his -right eye?" - -John Stuart Webster suddenly sat up straight and gazed upon the lost son -of Erin with grave interest. "Yes," he replied, "I seem to recall such a -man." - -"Only another proof of my ability as a palmist," Dolores struck in. -"Remember, Mr. Webster, I warned you to beware of a dark man that had -crossed your path." - -"An' well he may, Miss--well he may," Don Juan agreed gloomily. "'Tis -none av me business, sor, but would ye mind tellin' me just what ye did -to that spiggoty?" - -"Why, to begin, last Sunday morning I interrupted this pucker-eyed -fellow and a pop-eyed friend of his while engaged in an attempt to -assassinate a white, inoffensive stranger. The following day, at the -gangplank of the steamer, we met again; he poked his nose into my -business, so I squeezed his nose until he cried; right before everybody -I did it, Don Juan, and to add insult to injury, I plucked a few hairs -from his rat's moustache--one hair per each pluck." - -"I'd a notion ye did somethin' to him, sor. Now, thin, listen to me: I'm -not much to look at, but I'm white. I'm an attashay, as ye might say, av -Ignatz Leber--him that do have the import an' export house at the ind av -the Calle San Rosario, forninst the bay. Also he do have charrge av -the cable office, an' whin I'm sober enough, I deliver cable-grains for -Leber. Now, thin, ye'll recall we had a bit av a shower to-day at noon?" - -Dolores and Webster nodded. Don Juan, after glancing cautiously around, -lowered his voice and continued: "I was deliverin' a cablegram for -Leber, an' me course took me past the palace gate--which, be the same -token, has sinthry-boxes both inside an' out, wan on each side av the -gate. The sinthry was not visible as I came along, an' what wit' the -shower comin' as suddint as that, an' me wit' a wardrobe that's not so -extinsive I can afford to get it wet, I shtepped into wan av the outside -sintry-boxes till the rain should be over, an' what wit' a dhrink av -_aguardiente_ I'd took to brace me for the thrip, an' the mimory av auld -times, I fell asleep. - -"Dear knows how long I sat there napping; all I know is that I was -awakened by the sound av three men talkin' at the gate, an' divil a -worrd did they say but what I heard. They were talkin' in Spanish, but -I undhershtood thim well enough. 'He's at the Hotel Mateo,' says wan -voice, 'an' his name is Webster--Jawn Webster. He's an American, an' a -big, savage-lookin' lad at that, so take, me advice an' be careful. Do -ye two keep an eye on him wherever he goes, an' if he should shtep out -at night an' wandher t'rough a dark shtreet, do ye two see to it that -he's put where he'll not interfere again in Don Felipe's affairs. No -damn' gringo'--beggin' yer pardon, Miss--'can intherfere in the wurrk -av the Intilligince Bureau at a time like this, in addition to insultin' -our honoured chief, wit'out the necessity av bein' measured for a -coffin.' '_Si, mi general.'_ says another lad, an 'To be sure, _mi -general_,' says a thirrd; an' wit' that the gineral, bad cess to him, -wint back to the palace an' the other two walked on up the _calle_ an' -away from the sinthry-box." - -"Did you come out and follow them?" Webster demanded briskly. - -"Faith, I did. Wan av them is Francisco Arredondo, a young cavalry -lootinint, an' the other wan is Captain Jos Benevides, him that do be -the best pistol-shot an' swordsman in the spiggoty army. 'Twas him that -kilt auld Gineral Gonzales in a djuel a month ago." - -"What kind of looking man is this Benevides, my friend?" - -"A tall, thin young man, wit' a dude's moustache an' a diamond ring on -his right hand. He do be whiter nor most. Have a care would ye meet him -around the city an' let him pick a fight wit' ye. An' have a care, sor, -would ye go out av a night." - -"Thank you, Don Juan. You're the soul of kindness. What else do you -know?" - -"Well," Don Juan replied with a nave grin, "I did know somethin' else, -but shure, Misther Geary advised me to forget it. I was wit' him in the -launch last night." - -Webster stepped out of the veranda and laid a friendly hand on Don Juan -Cafetro's shoulder. "Don Juan," he said gently, "I'm going back to the -United States very soon. Would you like to come with me?" - -Don Juan's watery eyes grew a shade mistier, if possible. He shook -his head. "Whin I'm dhrunk here, sor," he replied, "no wan pays any -attintion to me, but in America they'd give me ten days in the hoosgow -wanst a week. Thank you, sor, but I'll shtay here till the finish." - -"There axe institutions in America where hopeless inebriates, -self-committed, may be sent for a couple of years. I believe 6 per cent, -are permanently cured. You could be one of the six--and I'd cheerfully -pay for it and give you a good job when you come out." - -Don Juan Cafetro shook his red head hopelessly. He knew the strength of -the Demon and had long since ceased to fight even a rear-guard action. -Webster put a hand under the stubbly chin and tilted Don Juan's head -sharply. "Hold up your head," he commanded. "You're the first of your -breed I ever saw who would admit he was whipped. Here's five dollars -for you--five dollars gold. Take it and return with the piece intact -to-morrow morning, Don Juan Cafetro." - -Don Juan Cafetro's wondering glance met Webster's directly, wavered, -sought the ground, but at a jerk on his chin came back and--stayed. Thus -for at least ten seconds they gazed at each other; then Webster spoke. -"Thank you," he said. - -"Me name is John J. Cafferty," the lost one quavered. - -"Round one for Cafferty," Webster laughed. "Good-bye now, until nine -tomorrow. I'll expect you here, John, without fail." And he took the -derelict's hand and wrung it heartily. - -"Well," Webster remarked to Dolores as he held out his cup for more tea, -"if I'm not the original Tumble Tom, I hope I may never see the back of -my neck." - -"Do you attach any importance to Don Juan's story?" she asked anxiously. - -"Yes, but not so much as Don Juan does. However, to be forewarned is to -be forearmed." He sighed. "I am the innocent bystander," he explained, -"and I greatly fear I have managed to snarl myself up in a Sobrantean -political intrigue, when I haven't the slightest interest either way. -However, that's only one more reason why I should finish my work here -and get back to Denver." - -"But how did all this happen, Mr. Webster?" - -"Like shooting fish in a dry lake, Miss Ruey," Webster replied, and -related to her in detail the story of his adventure with the Sobrantean -assassins in Jackson Square and his subsequent meeting with Andrew -Bowers aboard _La Estrellita_. - -Dolores laughed long and heartily as Webster finished his humorous -recital. "Oh, you're such a very funny man," she declared. "Billy told -me God only made one Jack Webster and then destroyed the mold; I believe -Billy is right. But do tell me what became of this extraordinary and -unbidden guest." - -"The night the steamer arrived in port, Billy and Don Juan came out in -a launch to say 'Hello,' so I seized upon the opportunity to tell Andrew -to jump overboard and swim to the launch. Gave him a little note to -Billy--carried it in his mouth--instructing Billy to do the right thing -by him--and Billy did it. I don't know what Andrew is up to and I don't -care. Where I was raised we let every man roll his own hoop. All I hope -is that they don't shoot Andrew. If they do, I fear I'll weep. He's -certainly a skookum lad. Do you know, Miss Ruey, I love anybody that can -impose on me--make a monkey out of me, in fact--and make me like it?" - -"That's so comforting," she remarked dryly. Webster looked at -her sharply, suspiciously; her words were susceptible of a dual -interpretation. Her next sentence, however, dissipated this impression. -"Because it confirms what I told you this afternoon when I read your -palm," she added. - -"You didn't know how truly you spoke when you referred to the dark man -that had crossed my path. He's uncomfortably real--drat him!" - -"Then you are really concerned?" - -"Not at all, but I purpose sleeping with one eye open. I shan't permit -myself to feel concerned until they send more than two men after me--say -eight or ten. A husky American ought to be willing to give these -spiggoties a pull in the weights." - -His indifference appalled her; she leaned forward impulsively and laid -a hand on his forearm. "But you must heed Don Juan's warning," she -declared seriously. "You must not go out alone at night." - -He grinned boyishly. "Of course not, Miss Ruey. You're going to ride out -with me this evening." - -"I'm not. Don Juan's report has spoiled all that. I'll not subject you -to risk." - -"Very well; then I shall drive out alone." - -"You're a despot, Mr. Webster--a regular despot." - -"Likewise a free agent." - -"I'll go with you." - -"I thought so." - -"You're--you're----" - -He rose while she was searching for the right word. "Will you excuse me -until after dinner, Miss Ruey? I'd love to stay and chat with you, even -though it does appear that presently we shall be calling each other -names, but the fact of the matter is--well, I am in a very serious -predicament, and I might as well start right now to prepare to meet any -emergency. For what hour shall I order the carriage?" - -"Seven-thirty. After all, they'll not dare to murder you on the -Malecon." - -"I agree with you. It will have to be done very quietly, if at all. -You've been mighty nice to me this afternoon, seeress; I shall be -grateful right up to the moment of dissolution." - -"Speak softly but carry a big stick," she warned him. - -"A big gun," he corrected here, "--two of them, in fact." - -"Sensible man! I'm not going to worry about you, Mr. Webster." She -nodded her permission for him to retire, and as he walked down the -veranda and into the hotel, her glance followed him with pardonable -feminine curiosity, marking the breadth of his shoulders, the quick, -springy stride, the alert, erect poise of his head on the powerful neck. - -"A doer of deeds are you, John Stuart Webster," she almost whispered. -"As Kipling would say: '_Wallah!_ But you are a man!'" ^ - -A stealthy footstep sounded below the veranda she turned and beheld Don -Juan Cafetro, his hat in his left hand, in his right a gold-piece which -he held toward her. - -"Take it, _allanah_," he wheezed in his hoarse, drunkard's whisper. -"Keep it f'r me till to-morrow, for sorra wan av me can I trust to do -that same--an' be the same token I can't face that big man wit'out it." - -"Why not, Don Juan?" - -He hung his red head. "I dunno, Miss," he replied miserably. "Maybe 'tis -on account av him--the eye av him--the way av him--divil such a man did -I ever meet--God bless him! Shure, Misther Geary do be the fine lad, but -he--he----" - -"Mr. Geary never put a big forefinger under your chin and bade you hold -up your head. Is that it?" - -"'Tis not what he did, Miss, but the way he did it. All the fiends -av hell 'll be at me this night to shpend what he give me--and I--I'm -afraid----" - -He broke off, mumbling and chattering like a man in the grip of a great -terror. In his agony of body and spirit, Dolores could have wept for Don -Juan Cafetro, for in that supreme moment the derelict's soul was bare, -revealing something pure and sweet and human, for all his degradation. -How did Jack Webster know? wondered Dolores. And why did he so -confidently give an order to this human flotsam and expect it to be -obeyed? And why did Don Juan Cafetro come whining to her for strength -to help him obey it? Through the murk of her girlish unsophstication -and scant knowledge of human nature these and other questions obtruded -themselves, the while she gazed down at Don Juan's dirty, quivering -hand that held the coin toward her. And presently the answer came--a -quotation long since learned and forgotten:= - -```Be noble--and the nobleness that lies in other men, - -```Sleeping but never dead, - -```Will rise in majesty to meet thine own.= - -"I will not spoil his handiwork," she told herself, and she stepped -down off the veranda to a position directly in front of Don Juan. "That -wouldn't be playing the game," she told him. "I can't help you deceive -him. You are the first of your breed----" - -"Don't say it," he cried. "Didn't he tell me wanst?" - -"Then make the fight, Don--Mr. Cafferty." She lowered her voice. "I am -depending on you to stay sober and guard him. He needs a faithful friend -so badly, now that Mr. Geary is away." She patted the grimy hand and -left him staring at the ground. Presently he sighed, quivered horribly, -and shambled out of the _patio_ on to the firing-line. And when he -reported to Jack Webster at nine o'clock next morning, he was sober, -shaking horribly and on the verge of _delirium tremens_, but tightly -clasped in his right hand he held that five-dollar piece. Dolores, who -had made it her business to be present at the interview, heard John -Stuart Webster say heartily: - -"The finest thing about a terrible fight, friend Cafferty, is that if -it is a worth-while battle, the spoils of victory are exceedingly sweet. -You are how about to enjoy one fourth of the said spoils--a large jolt -of _aguardiente!_ You must have it to steady your nerves. Go to the -nearest _cantina_ and buy one drink; then come back with the change. By -that time I shall have breakfasted and you and I will then go shopping. -At noon you shall have another drink; at four o'clock another; and -just before retiring you shall have the fourth and last for this day. -Remember, Cafferty: one jolt--no more--and then back here with the exact -change." - -As Don Juan scurried for salvation, Webster turned to Dolores. "He'll -fail me now, but that will not be his fault but mine. I've set him -too great a task in his present weakened condition. In the process of -exchanging American gold for the local shin-plasters, he'll skin me to -death and emerge from the transaction with a full quart bottle in excess -of his drink. Nevertheless, to use a colloquial expression, I have the -Cafferty goat--and I'm going to keep it." - -Webster went immediately to his room, called for pen and paper, and -proceeded at once to do that which he had never done before--to wit, -prepare his last will and testament. For the first time in his career -death threatened while he had money in his possession, and while he had -before him for performance a task requiring the expenditure of money, -his manifest duty, therefore, was to guarantee the performance of -that task, win, lose, or draw in the game of life; so in a few brief -paragraphs John Stuart Webster made a holographic will and split his -bankroll equally between the two human beings he cared for most--Billy -Geary and Dolores Huey. "Bill's a gambler like me," he ruminated; "so -I'll play safe. The girl is a conservative, and after Bill's wad is -gone, he'd be boiled in oil before he'd prejudice hers." - -Having made his will, Webster made a copy of it. The original he placed -in an envelope, sealed, and marked: "Last Will and Testament of John S. -Webster, of Denver, Colorado, U. S. A. To be delivered to William H. -Geary upon the death of the testator." The copy he also placed in an -envelope marked: "From Jack. Not to be opened until after my death." -This envelope he then enclosed in a larger one and mailed to Billy at -Calle de Concordia No. 19. - -Having made his few simple preparations for death, Mr. Webster next -burrowed in his trunk, brought forth his big army-type automatic pistol -and secured it in a holster under his arm, for he deemed it unwise and -provocative of curiosity to appear in immaculate ducks that bulged -at the right hip. Next he filled two spare clips with cartridges -and slipped them into his pocket, thus completing his few simple -preparations for life. - -He glanced out the window at the sun. There would still be an hour of -daylight; so he descended to the lobby, called a carriage and drove to -the residence of the American consulate. - -Lemuel Tolliver, formerly proprietor of a small retail wood and coal -yard in Hastings, Nebraska, was the consul. He talked through his nose, -employed double negatives, chewed tobacco, wore celluloid cuffs and -collar, and received Mr. Webster in his shirt sleeves. He was the type -of small-town peanut politician who never forgets for an instant that to -be an American is greater than to be a king, and who strives assiduously -to exhibit his horrible idea of American democracy to all and sundry, to -his own profound satisfaction and the shame of his visiting countrymen. - -He glanced at the card which Webster had sent in by his clerk. "Well, -sir!" he began briskly. "Delighted to know you, Mr. Webster. Ain't there -nothin' I can do for you?" - -"Thank you. There is. This is my will. Please put it in your safe until -I or my executor shall call for it." - -"What!" boomed the Honourable Tolliver. "You ain't thinkin' o' dyin', -are yuh?" he laughed. - -"Listen," Webster urged him, and Mr. Tolliver helped himself to a fresh -bite of chewing-tobacco and inclined his head. Briefly, but without -omitting a single important detail, Webster told the consul of his -adventure in New Orleans with the secret service representative of the -Republic of Sobrante. "And not an hour since," he concluded, "I was -informed, through a source I consider reliable, that I am in momentary -danger of assassination at the hands of two men whose names I know." - -"Well, don't tell me nothin' about it," Mr. Tolliver interrupted. "I'm -here on Government affairs, not to straighten out private quarrels. If -you're figurin' on gittin' killed, my advice to you is to git out o' the -country P. D. Q." - -"You overlook the fact that I didn't come here for advice, my dear Mr. -Consul," Webster reminded him with some asperity. "I'm not at all afraid -of getting killed. What is worrying me is the certainty that I'll get -there first with the most guns, and if I should, in self-defense, be -forced to eliminate two Sobrantean army officers, I want to know what -you're going to do to protect me. I want to make an affidavit that my -life is in danger; I want my witness to make a similar affidavit, and -I want to file those affidavits with you, to be adduced as evidence to -support my plea of selfdefense. In other words, I want to have these -affidavits, with the power of the United States back of them, to spring -in case the Sobrantean government tries to railroad me for murder--and I -want you to spring them for me." - -"I won't do nothin' o' the kind," Mr. Tolliver declared bluntly. "You -got plenty o' chance to get out o' this country an' save international -complications. _La Estrellita_ pulls out to-morrow mornin', an' you pull -with her, or stay an' take your own chances. I ain't prejudicin' my job -by makin' myself _nux vomica_ to the Sobrantean government--an' that's -just what will happen if I mix up in this private quarrel." - -"But, my dear Mr. Consul, I am going into business here--the mining -business. I have every right in this country, and it is your duty to -protect my rights while here. I can't side-step a fight just to hold you -in your job." - -"It's a matter outside my jurisdiction," Mr. Tolliver declared with -such a note of finality in his voice that Webster saw the uselessness of -further argument. - -"All right," he replied, holding his temper as best he could. "I'm glad -to know you think so much of your job. I may live long enough to find -an opportunity to kick you out of it and run this consulate myself. I'll -send my affidavits direct to the State department at Washington; you -take orders from Washington, I dare say." - -"When I get them. Good day." - -John Stuart Webster left the American consulate in a frenzy of -inarticulate rage in the knowledge that he was an American and -represented in Sobrante by such an invertebrate as the Honourable Lemuel -Tolliver. At the Hotel Mateo he dismissed the carriage, climbed the -three short steps to the entrance and was passing through the revolving -portal, when from his rear some one gave the door a violent shove, with -the result that the turnstile partition behind him collided with his -back with sufficient force to throw him against the partition in front. -Instantly the door ceased to pivot, with Webster locked neatly in the -triangular space between the two sections of the revolving door and the -jamb. - -He turned and beheld in the section behind him an officer of the -Sobrantean army. This individual, observing he was under Webster's -scrutiny, scowled and peremptorily motioned to Webster to proceed--which -the latter did, with such violence that the door, continuing to revolve, -caught up with the Sobrantean and subjected him to the same indignity to -which he had subjected Webster. - -Once free of the door, Webster waited just inside the lobby for the -Sobrantean to conclude his precipitate entrance. When he did, Webster -looked him over with mild curiosity and bowed with great condescension. -"Did any gentleman ever tell the senor that he is an ill-mannered -monkey?" he queried coolly in excellent Spanish. "If not, I desire to -give the senor that information, and to tell him that his size alone -prevents me from giving him a nice little spanking." - -"Pig!" the rude one answered hotly. His olive features paled with anger, -he trembled with emotion and seemed undecided what to do--seeing -which Webster grinned at him tantalizingly. That decided him. No -Latin-American, with the exaggerated ego of his race, can bear even a -suspicion of ridicule. The officer walked fiercely toward Webster and -swung his arm toward the latter's face in an effort to land a slap that -was "meant." - -Webster merely threw back his head and avoided the blow; his long left -arm shot out and beat down the Sobrantean's guard; then Webster's right -hand closed around the officer's collar. "Come to me, thou insolent -little one," he crooned, and jerked his assailant toward him, gathered -him up in his arms, carried him, kicking and screaming with futile rage, -out into the _patio_ and soused him in the fountain. - -"Now, then, spitfire, that will cool your hot head, I trust," he -admonished his unhappy victim, and returned to the hotel. At the desk he -paused. - -"Who was that person I just bathed?" he inquired of the excited clerk. - -"Ah, senor, you shall not long be kept in ignorance," that functionary -informed him. "That is the terrible Captain Benavides----" - -"Do you know, I had a notion it was he?" Webster replied ruminatively. -"Well, I suppose I'm in for a duel now," he added to himself as he -climbed the stairs to his room. "I think that will be most interesting." - -John Stuart Webster changed into dry clothing and descended to the -dining room. Miss Ruey was already seated at her table and motioned him -to the seat opposite her, and as he sat down with a contented little -sigh, she gazed at him with a newer and more alert interest. - -"I hear you've been having adventures again," she challenged. "The news -is all over the hotel. I heard it from the head waiter." - -"Coffee and pistols for two at daylight," he answered cheerily. -"Whenever I see trouble coming and realize that I cannot possibly avoid -it, I generally take the bull by the horns, so to speak, and go forth -to meet it. I have discovered from experience that the surprise of the -attack generally disorganizes the other fellow, for few people care to -fight an eager enemy. I see you have sampled the soup. Is it good?" - -"Excellent. I marvel that your appetite is so keen, considering the -gloomy outlook." - -"Oh, there won't be any trouble," he assured her. "Duelling is silly, -and I wouldn't engage in it on a bet. By the way, I have made my will, -just to be on the safe side. Will you be good enough to take charge of -it until after the funeral? You can turn it over to Billy then." - -She fell readily into the bantering spirit with which he treated this -serious subject. Indeed, it was quite impossible to do otherwise, for -John Stuart Webster's personality radiated such a feeling of security, -of absolute, unbounded confidence in the future and disdain for whatever -of good fortune or ill the future might entail, that Dolores, found it -impossible not to assimilate his mood. - -At seven-thirty, after a delightful dinner, the memory of which Mr. -Webster was certain would linger under his foretop long after every -other memory had departed, he escorted her to the open carriage he had -ordered, and for two hours they circled the Malecon with the lite of -Buenaventura, listening to the music of the band, and during the brief -intermissions, to the sound of the waves lapping the beach at the foot -of the broad driveway. - -"This," said John Stuart Webster, as he said goodnight to Dolores in the -lobby, "is the end of a perfect day." - -It wasn't, for at that precise moment a servant handed him a card, and -indicated a young man seated in an adjacent lounging-chair, at the same -time volunteering the information that the visitor had been awaiting -Senor Webster's return for the past hour. - -Webster glanced at the card and strode over to the young man. "I am Mr. -Webster, sir," he announced civilly in Spanish. "And you are Lieutenant -Arredondo?" - -The visitor rose, bowed low and indicated he was that gentleman. "I -have called, Mr. Webster," he stated in most excellent English, "in the -interest of my friend and comrade, Captain Benavides." - -"Ah, yes! The fresh little rooster I ducked in the fountain this -evening. Well, what does the little squirt want now? Another ducking?" - -Arredondo flushed angrily but remembered the dignity of his mission and -controlled his temper. "Captain Benavides has asked me to express to you -the hope that you, being doubtless a man of honour----" - -"Stop right there, Lieutenant. There is no doubt about it. I _am_ a man -of honour, and unless you are anxious to be ducked in the fountain, you -will be more careful in your choice of words. Now, then: You are about -to say that, being a man of honour----" - -"You would accord my friend the satisfaction which one gentleman never -fails to accord another." - -"That lets me out, _amigo_." Webster laughed. "Benavides isn't a -gentleman. He's a cutthroat, a murdering little black-and-tan hound. Do -I understand he wants me to fight a duel with him?" - -Lieutenant Arredondo could not trust himself to speak, and so he bowed -profoundly. - -"Very well, then, Lieutenant," Webster agreed. "I'll fight him." - -"To-morrow morning at five o'clock." - -"Five minutes from now if you say so." - -"Captain Benavides will be grateful for your willing spirit, at least," -the second replied bitterly. "You realize, of course, Mr. Webster, that -as the challenged party, the choice of weapons rests with you." - -"Certainly. I wouldn't have risked a duel if the choice lay with the -other fellow. With your permission, my dear sir, we'll fight with Mauser -rifles at a thousand yards, for the reason that I never knew a greaser -that could hit the broad side of a brewery at any range over two hundred -and fifty yards." Webster chuckled fiendishly. - -Lieutenant Arredondo bit his lips in anger and vexation. "I cannot -agree to such an extraordinary duel," he complained. "Have you no other -choice?" - -"Well, since a fight at long range doesn't suit you, suppose we have one -at close range. I propose that our seconds handcuff us together by our -left wrists, give each of us a knife and leave us alone in a room for a -couple of minutes." - -"My friend, Captain Benavides, sir, is not a butcher," Arredondo -reminded Mr. Webster acidly. "In such a fight as you describe, he would -be at a great disadvantage." - -"You're whistling--he would. I'd swing him around my head with my left -hand and dash his fool brains out." - -"It is the custom in Sobrante for gentlemen to fight with rapiers." - -"Oh, dry up, you sneaking murderer," Webster exploded. "There isn't -going to be any duel except on my terms--so you might as well take a -straight tip from headquarters and stick to plain assassination. You and -Benavides have been sent out by your superior to kill me--you got your -orders this very afternoon at the entrance to the government palace--and -I'm just not going to be killed. I don't like the way you part your -hair, and I despise a man who uses cologne and wears his handkerchief up -his sleeve; so beat it, boy, while the going is good." He pointed toward -the hotel door. "Out, you blackguard!" he roared. "_Vaya!_" - -Lieutenant Arredondo rose and with dignified mien started for the door. -Webster followed, and as his visitor reached the portal, a tremendous -kick, well placed, lifted him down to the sidewalk. Shrieking curses, he -fled into the night; and John Stuart Webster, with a satisfied feeling -that something accomplished had earned a night's repose, retired to -his room and his mauve silk pyjamas, and slept the sleep of a healthy, -conscience-free man. It did occur to him that the morrow would almost -certainly bring forth something unpleasant, but that prospect did not -worry him. John Stuart Webster had a religion all his own, and one -of the principal tenets of this faith of his was an experience-born -conviction that to-morrow is always another day. - -At about the same hour Neddy Jerome, playing solitaire in the Engineers' -Club in Denver, was the recipient of a cablegram which read: - -_If W. cables accepting reply rejecting account job filled otherwise -beans spilled. Implicit obedience spells victory._ - -_Henrietta._ - -Neddy Jerome wiped his spectacles, adjusted them on his nose and read -this amazing message once more. "Jumped-up Jehosophat!" he murmured. "If -she hasn't followed that madcap Webster clear to Buenaventura! If she -isn't out in earnest to earn her fee, I'm an orang-outang! By thunder, -that's a smart woman. Evidently she has Jack winging; he is willing to -return and go to work for me, but for reasons of her own she doesn't -want him to win too easy a victory. Well, I guess she knows her own -game better than I do; so I should worry how she plays it. 'Implicit -obedience spells victory.' Victory means that crazy Webster takes the -job I offered him. All right! I'll be implicitly obedient." - -Two hours later Neddy Jerome received another cablegram. It was from -John Stuart Webster and read as follows: - -Hold job ninety days at latest may be back before. If satisfactory -cable. - -Again Mr. Jerome had recourse to the most powerful expletive at -his command. "Henrietta knew he was going to cable and beat the -old sour-dough to it," he soliloquized. He was wrapped in profound -admiration of her cunning for as much as five minutes; then he indicted -this reply to his victim: - -_Time, tide and good jobs wait for no man. Sorry. Job already filled by -better man._ - -When John Stuart Webster received that cablegram the following morning, -he cursed bitterly--not because he had lost the best job that had ever -been offered him, but because he had lost through playing a good hand -poorly. He hated himself for his idiocy. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -|FOR fully an hour after retiring John Stuart Webster slept the deep, -untroubled sleep of a healthy, unworried man; then one of the many -species of "jigger" which flourish just north and south of the equator -crawled into bed with him and promptly proceeded to establish its -commissary on the inner flank of the Websterian thigh, where the skin is -thin and the blood close to the surface. As a consequence, Mr. Webster -awoke suddenly, obliterated the intruder and got out of bed for the -purpose of anointing the injured spot with alcohol--which being done, an -active search of the bed resulted in the discovery of three more -jiggers and the envelopment of John Stuart Webster's soul in the fogs of -apprehension. Wide awake, he sat on the edge of the bed, massaging his -toes and wondering what he should do about it. From a contemplation -of his own case his mind wandered to Dolores Ruey. He wondered if the -jiggers were picking on her, too--poor girl! Strange that Billy hadn't -warned him against these infernal insects--probably it was because Billy -resided at El Buen Amigo, where, for some mysterious reason, the jigger -was not. - -"'Tis an evil land, filled with trouble," he mused as he lighted a -cigarette. "I wish Bill were here to advise me. He's been long enough -in this country to know the lay of the ground and all the government -officials. He ought to be able to straighten this deal out and assure -the higher-ups that I'm not butting in on their political affairs. But -Bill's up-country and here I am under surveillance and unable to leave -the hotel to talk it over with Andrew Bowers, the only other white -expert I know of in town. And by the way, they're after Andrew, too! I -wonder what for." - -He smoked two more cigarettes, the while he pondered the various visible -aspects of this dark mess in which he found himself floundering. And -finally he arrived at a decision. He was well assured that his every -movement was being watched and reported upon; doubtless the fact that -he had gone to bed at ten o'clock had already been noted! "These chaps -aren't thorough, though," Webster decided. "They'll see me safely to -bed and pick me up again in the morning--so I'll take a chance that the -coast is clear, slip out now and talk it over with Andrew." - -He looked at his watch--eleven-thirty. Hurriedly he dressed, strapped on -his automatic pistol, dragged his bed noiselessly to the open window and -tied to the bed-leg the rope he used to lash his trunk; then he lowered -himself out the window. The length of rope permitted him to descend -within a few feet of the ground, and he dropped with a light thud on to -the soft earth of the _patio_. The thrifty landlord had already turned -out all the electric lights, and the _patio_ was dark. - -Webster made his way to the street unnoticed, circled the block, found -a policeman seated sound asleep on the curb of the narrow sidewalk, woke -him up and inquired for the Calle de Concordia; and ten minutes later he -appeared before the entrance of El Buen Amigo just as Mother Jenks was -barring it for the night. - -"I am Mr. Webster," he announced, "--Mr. Geary's friend from the United -States." - -Mother Jenks, having heard of him, was of course profoundly flustered to -meet this toff who so carelessly wired his down-and-out friends _pesos -oro_ in lots of a thousand. Cordially she invited him within to stow a -peg of her best, which invitation Mr. Webster promptly accepted. - -"To your beautiful eyes," Webster toasted her. "And now would you mind -leading me to the quarters of Billy's friend Mr. Bowers?" - -Mother Jenks looked at him sharply. "Wot's up, sir?" she asked. - -"Blessed if I know, Mrs. Jenks. I've come to find out." - -"Then you've not come a second too soon, sir. 'E's leavin' at daylight. -I'd better hannounce you, sir.'E's particular wot company 'e receives." - -She shuffled away, to return presently with the news that Mr. Bowers was -in his room and would be delighted to receive Mr. Webster. Mother Jenks -led Webster to the door, knocked, announced him and discreetly withdrew. - -"My dear Webster!" cried Andrew Bowers enthusiastically, and he drew his -late fellow-passenger into the room. Webster observed that Andrew was -not alone. "I want to see you privately," he said. "Didn't know you had -company, or I wouldn't have intruded." - -"Well, I knew I had company, didn't I? Come in, you crazy fellow, and -meet some good friends of mine who are very anxious to meet you," He -turned to a tall, handsome, scholarly looking man of about forty, whose -features, dress, and manner of wearing his whiskers proclaimed him a -personage. "Dr. Eliseo Pacheco, I have the honour to present Mr. John S. -Webster, the American gentleman of whom you have heard me speak." - -Doctor Pacheco promptly leaped to his feet and bowed with ostentatious -reverence; then suddenly, with Latin impulsiveness, he advanced upon -Webster, swept aside the latter's outstretched hand, clasped John Stuart -Webster in fraternal embrace, and to the old sour-dough's inexpressible -horror, kissed him upon the right cheek--after which he backed off, -bowed once more, and said in Spanish: - -"Sir, my life is yours." - -"It is well he gave it to you before you took it," Andrew said in -English, and he laughed, noting Webster's confusion. "And this gentleman -is Colonel Pablo Caraveo." - -"Thunder, I'm in for it again," Webster thought--and he was, for the -amiable colonel embraced Webster and kissed his left cheek before -turning to Andrew. - -"You will convey to our guest, in English, Don Ricardo, assurances of my -profound happiness in meeting him," he said in Spanish. - -"The Colonel says you're all to the mustard," Andrew at once interpreted -merrily. - -"Rather a liberal translation," Webster retorted in Spanish, whereat -Colonel Caraveo sprang up and clapped his hands in delight. Evidently he -had looked forward with considerable interest to meeting Webster and had -had his contentment clouded by the thought that Andrew's gringo friend -could not speak Spanish. - -"Your happiness, my dear Colonel," Webster continued, "is extravagant -grief compared with my delight in meeting a Sobrantean gentleman who has -no desire to skewer me." He turned to Andrew. "While introductions are -in order, old son, suppose you complete the job and introduce yourself. -I'm always suspicious of a man with an alias." - -"Then behold the death of that impudent fellow Andrew Bowers, late -_valet de chambre_ to this eminent mining engineer and prince of -gentlemen, Mr. John Stuart Webster. Doctor Pacheco, will you be good -enough to perform the operation?" - -"This gentleman," said the doctor, laying his hand on Andrew's shoulder, -"is Don Ricardo Luiz Ruey, a gentleman, a patriot, and the future -president of our unhappy country." - -Webster put his hands on the young man's shoulders. "Ricardo my son," he -asked earnestly, "do you think you could give me some little hint of the -approximate date on which you will assume office? By the nine gods of -war, I never wanted a friend at court so badly as I want one to-night." - -Doctor Pacheco, Colonel Caraveo, and Ricardo Ruey exchanged glances -and laughed heartily. "I must introduce him to Captain Benavides and -Lieutenant Arredondo," the Colonel said slyly. - -"What!" Webster was amazed. "You know about it already?" - -"Better than that, friend Webster. We knew about it before it happened. -That is, we knew it was going to happen," Ricardo informed him. . - -Webster sat down and helped himself from a box of cigars he found on -Ricardo's bureau. "I feel I am among friends at last," he announced -between preliminary puffs; "so listen while I spin a strange tale. -I've been the picture of bad luck ever since I started for this -infernal--this wonderful country of yours. After leaving Denver for New -Orleans, I came within a whisker of dying of ptomaine poisoning. Then -in New Orleans I took a Sunday-morning stroll in Jackson Square and -came across two men trying to knife another. In the interest of common -decency I interfered and won a sweeping victory, but to my amazement the -prospective corpse took to his heels and advised me to do the same." - -Ricardo Ruey sprang for John Stuart Webster. "By George," he said in -English, "I'm going to hug you, too. I really ought to kiss you, because -I'm that man you saved from assassination, but--too long in the -U.S.A., I suppose; I've lost the customs of my country." - -"Get out," yelled Webster, fending him off. "Did you lose anything in -that fracas?" - -"Yes, a Malacca stick." - -"I have it." - -"Holy Moses! Jack--I'm going to call you Jack--why didn't you say -something about this while we were on the steamer together?" - -"Why, we played crib' and dominoes most of the way down, when I wasn't -seasick, and we talked about other things. By the way, Ricardo--I'm -going to call you Rick for short--do you happen to have any relatives in -this country?" - -"Yes, a number of second and third cousins. One lot bears the same -family name." - -"No relatives in the United States?" - -"No." - -"Coming down on the steamer, I didn't like to appear curious, but all -the time I wanted to ask you one question." - -"Ask it now." - -"Are you a Sobrantean?" - -"I was born in this country and raised here until I was fourteen." - -"But you're--why, hang it, you're not a Latin?" - -"No, I'm a mixture, with Latin predominating. My forbears were pure -Castilians from Madrid, and crossed the Western Ocean in caravels. It's -been a matter of pride with the house of Ruey to keep the breed pure, -but despite all precautions, the family tree has been grafted once -with a Scotch thistle, twice with the lily of France, and once with the -shamrock of Ireland. My mother was an Irishwoman." - -"You alibi yourself perfectly, Ricardo, and my curiosity is appeased. -Permit me to continue my tale," he added in Spanish; and forthwith -he related with humorous detail his adventure at the gangplank of the -steamer that had borne him and Ricardo Ruey south. Ricardo interrupted -him. "We know all about that, friend Webster, and we knew the two -delightful gentlemen had been told off to get you--unofficially." - -"How did you find out?" - -"A leak in the Intelligence Bureau, of which our friend Colonel Caraveo -is an assistant chief." - -"Explain," Webster demanded peremptorily. "Why all this intrigue -extending to two countries and private individuals?" - -"Certainly. The Sobrantean revolutionary junta has headquarters in New -Orleans. It is composed of political exiles, for Sarros, the present -dictator of Sobrante, rules with an iron hand, and has a cute little -habit of railroading his enemies to the cemetery via the treason -charge and the firing-squad. Quite a quaint fellow, Sarros! Robs the -proletariat and spends it on the army with a lavish hand, and so in -sheer gratitude they keep him in office. Besides, it's a sign of bad -luck to oppose him at the regular elections. Well, he--he killed my -father, who was the best president this benighted country ever had, and -I consider it my Christian duty to avenge my father and a patriotic duty -to take up the task he left unfinished--the task of making over my -country. - -"In Sobrante, as in most of the countries in Central America, there -are two distinct classes of people--the aristocrats and peons--and the -aristocrat fattens on the peon, as he has had a habit of doing since -Adam. We haven't any middle class to stand as a buffer between the -two--which makes it a sad proposition. My father was an idealist and -a dreamer and he dreamed of reform in government and a solution of the -agrarian problem which confronts all Latin-America. Moreover, he trusted -the common people--and one should not trust this generation of peons. We -must have fifty years of education--free and compulsory--first. - -"My father headed a revolution that was brief and practically bloodless, -and the better to do the task he had set himself, he created a -dictatorship with himself as dictator--this because he was shy on good -cabinet and legislative material, the kind he could trust to play fair -with the people." - -Ricardo paused. "You are interested in all this, my friend?" he asked. - -"It has an old, familiar sound, but crack along." - -"My father, being human, erred. He trusted one Pablo Sarros, an educated -peon, who had commanded the government forces under the regime my father -overthrew. My tender-hearted parent discovered that Sarros was plotting -to overthrow him; but instead of having him shot, he merely removed him -from command. Sarros gathered a handful of bandits, joined with the old -government forces my father had conquered, hired a couple dozen Yankee -artillerymen and--he won out. My father was captured and executed; the -palace was burned, and my sister perished in the flames. I'm here to pay -off the score." - -"A worthy ambition! So you organized the revolutionary junta in New -Orleans, eh?" - -Ricardo nodded. "Word of it reached Sarros, and he sent his brother -Raoul, chief of the Intelligence Bureau, to investigate and report. As -fast as he reported, Colonel Caraveo reported to me. Sarros and his gang -are just a little bit afraid of me, because he's about as popular with -the people as a typhus epidemic, and strange to say, this curiously -mercurial people have not forgotten the brief reign of his predecessor. -My father's son possesses a name to conjure with. Consequently it was -to the interest of the Sarros administration that I be eliminated. They -watched every boat; hence my scheme for eluding their vigilance--which, -thanks to you, worked like a charm." - -"But," Webster complained, "I'm not sitting in the game at all, and yet -I'm caught between the upper and nether millstones." - -"That is easy to explain. You interfered that morning in Jackson Square; -then Raoul Sarros met you going aboard the steamer for Buenaventura and -you manhandled him; and naturally, putting two and two together, he has -concluded that you are not only his personal enemy but also a friend and -protector of mine and consequently an enemy of the state." - -"And as a consequence I'm marked for slaughter?" - -"The first plan considered," said Colonel Craveo, gravely, "was -for Captain Benavides, who is an expert swordsman and a marvellous -pistol-shot, to pick a quarrel with you." - -"No hope, Colonel. I manhandled 'em both and declined to fight on their -terms. I suppose now I'll just naturally be assassinated." - -"It would be well, my friend," Doctor Pacheco suggested, "to return to -the United States until after Ricardo and his friends have eliminated -your Nemesis." - -"How soon will that happy event transpire?" - -"In about sixty days we hope to be ready to strike, Mr. Webster." - -"We are recruiting our men secretly," Ricardo explained. "Our base -is back in the hills beyond San Miguel de Padua. I'm going up there -to-morrow." - -"I was going up to San Miguel de Padua in a day or two myself, Rick, -but I'll be hanged if I know what to do now. I'm beginning to worry--and -that's a new experience with me." - -Colonel Caraveo cleared his throat. "I understand from Ricardo that -you and another American are interested in a mining concession, Mr. -Webster." - -Webster nodded. - -Al-*~ - -"Is this a private landholder, or did your friend secure it from the -Sarros government?" - -"From the government. We pay ten per cent, royalty, on a -ninety-nine-year lease, and that's all I know about it. I have never -seen the property, and my object in coming was to examine it and, if -satisfied, finance the project." - -"If you will return to your hotel, my dear sir," Colonel Caraveo -suggested, "and remain there until noon to-morrow, I feel confident -I can guarantee you immunity from attack thereafter. I have a plan to -influence my associates in the Intelligence Office." - -"Bully for you, Colonel. Give me sixty days in which to operate, and -I'll have finished my job in Sobrante and gotten out of it before that -gang of cutthroats wakes up to the fact that I'm gone. I thank you, -sir." - -"The least we can do, since you have saved Ricardo's life and rendered -our cause a great service, is to save your life," Colonel Caraveo -replied. - -"This is more comfort than I had hoped for when I came here, gentlemen. -I am very grateful, I assure you. Of course this little revolution -you're cooking up is no affair of mine, and I trust I need not assure -you that your confidence is quite safe with me." - -The Doctor and the Colonel immediately rose and bowed like a pair of -marionettes. Webster turned to Ricardo. - -"Have you had any experience in revolutions, my son?" he asked. - -Ricardo nodded. "I realized I had to have experience, and so I went to -Mexico. I was with Madero through the first revolution." - -"How are you arming your men?" - -"Mannlichers. I've got five thousand of them. Cost me twelve dollars -each. I've got twenty million rounds of cartridges, twenty-five -machine-guns, and a dozen three-inch field-guns. I have also engaged two -hundred American ex-soldiers to handle the machine-guns and the battery. -These rascals cost me five dollars a day gold, but they're worth it; -they like fighting and will go anywhere to get it--and are faithful." - -"You are secretly mobilizing in the mountains, eh?" Webster rubbed his -chin ruminatively. "Then I take it you'll attack Buenaventura when you -strike the first blow?" - -"Quite right. We must capture a seaport if we are to revolute -successfully." - -"I'm glad to know that. I'll make it my business to be up in the -mountains at the time. I'm for peace, every rattle out of the box. -Gentlemen, you've cheered me wonderfully. I will now go home and leave -you to your evil machinations; and, the good Lord and the jiggers -willing, I shall yet glean a night's sleep." - -He shook hands all around and took his departure. Mother Jenks was -waiting for Webster at the foot of the stairs. He paused on the -threshold. - -"Mrs. Jenks," he said, "Billy tells me you have been very kind to him. I -want to tell you how much I appreciate it and that I stand willing to -reciprocate any time you are in need." - -Mother Jenks fingered her beard and reflected. "'Ave you met Miss -Dolores Ruey, sir?" she queried. - -"Your ward? Yes." - -"'Ow does the lamb strike you, Mr. Webster?" - -"I have never met many women; I have known few intimately; but I should -say that Miss Dolores Ruey is the marvel of her sex. She is as beautiful -as she is good, as good as she is intelligent, and as intelligent as she -can be." - -"She's a lydy, sir," Mother Jenks affirmed proudly. "An' I done it. You -can see with arf a heye wot I am, but for all that, I've done my dooty -by her. From the day my sainted 'Enery-- 'e was a colonel o' hartillery -under President Ruey, Dolores's father--hescaped from the burnin' palace -with 'er an' told me to raise 'er a lydy for the syke of her father, as -was the finest gentleman this rotten country 'll ever see, she's been my -guidin' star. She's self-supportin' now, but still I ain't done my whole -dooty by her. I want to see 'er married to a gentleman as 'll maintain -'er like a lydy." - -"Well, Mrs. Jenks, I think you will live to see that worthy ambition, -attained. Mr. Geary is head over heels in love with her." - -"Aye. Willie's a nice lad--I could wish no better; but wot 'e's got 'e -got from you, an' where'll 'e be if 'is mine doesn't p'y big? Now, with -you, sir, it's different. You're a bit oldern' Billy, an' more settled -an' serious; you've made yer fortune, so Willie tells me, an', not to go -beatin' about the bally bush, I s'y, wot's the matter with you an' her -steppin' over the broomstick together? You might go a bloomin' sight -farther an' fare wuss." - -"Too old, my dear schemer, too old!" John Stuart replied smilingly. "And -she's in love with Billy. Don't worry. If he doesn't make a go of this -mining concession, I'll take care of his finances until he can do so -himself. I do not mind telling you, in strictest confidence, that I have -made my will and divided my money equally between them." - -"Gord bless you, for a sweet, kind gentleman," Mother Jenks gulped, -quite overcome with emotion. - -Hastily Webster bade Mother Jenks good-night and hurried away to -escape a discussion on such a delicate topic with Billy's blunt and -single-minded landlady. His mind was in a tumult. So it was that he paid -no attention to a vehicle that jogged by him with the _cochero_ sagging -low in his seat, half asleep over the reins, until a quick command from -the closed interior brought the vehicle to an abrupt halt, half a block -in advance of Webster. - -Save for an arc-light at each end of the block, the Calle de Concordia -was dim; save for Webster, the carriage and the two men who piled -hurriedly out at the rear of the conveyance, the Calle de Concordia was -devoid of life. Webster saw one of the men hurriedly toss a coin to the -_cochero_; with a fervent "_Gracias, mi capitan_," the driver clucked -to his horse, turned the corner into the Calle Elizondo and disappeared, -leaving his late passengers facing Webster and calmly awaiting his -approach. He was within twenty feet of them when the taller of the two -men spoke. - -"Good evening, my American friend. This meeting is a pleasure we -scarcely hoped to have so soon. For the same we are indebted to -Lieutenant Arredondo, who happened to look back as we passed you, and -recognized you under the arc-light." - -Webster halted abruptly; the two Sobrantean officers stood smiling and -evidently enjoying his discomfort. Each carried a service revolver in a -closed holster fastened to his sword-belt, but neither had as yet made -a move to draw--seeing which, Webster felt sufficiently reassured -to accept the unwelcome situation with a grace equal to that of his -enemies. - -"What? You two bad little boys up this late! I'm surprised," he replied -in Spanish. He folded his arms, struck an attitude and surveyed them as -might an indignant father. "You kids have been up to some mischief," he -added, as his right hand closed over the butt of his automatic, where -it lay snuggled in the open bolster under his left arm between his -shirt and coat. "Can it be possible you are going to take advantage of -superior numbers and the fact that you are both armed, to force me into -a duel on your terms, my dear Captain Benavides?" - -By a deferential bow, the unwholesome Benavides indicated that such were -his intentions. "Then," said Webster, "as the challenged party I have -the choice of weapons. I choose pistols." - -"At what range?" the Lieutenant asked with mock interest. - -"As we stand at present. I'm armed. Pull your hardware, you pretty pair -of polecats, and see if you can beat me to the draw." - -Captain Benavides's jaw dropped slightly; with a quiet, deliberate -motion his hand stole to his holster-flap. Lieutenant Arredondo wet his -lips and glanced so apprehensively at his companion that Webster was -aware that here was a situation not to his liking. - -"You should use an open holster," Webster taunted. "Come, come--unbutton -that holster-flap and get busy." - -Benavides's hand came away from the holster. He was not the least bit -frightened, but his sense of proportion in matters of this kind was -undergoing a shake-up. - -"In disposing of any enemy in a gun fight, so a professional killer once -informed me," Webster continued, "it is a good plan to put your first -bullet anywhere in the abdomen; the shock of a bullet there paralyzes -your opponent for a few seconds and prevents him from returning the -compliment, and in the interim you blow his brains out while he lies -looking at you. I have never had any practical experience in matters -of this kind, but I don't mind telling you that if I _must_ practise -on somebody, the good Lord could not have provided two more delightful -subjects." - -He ceased speaking, and for nearly half a minute the three men appraised -each other. Benavides was smiling slightly; Arredondo was fidgeting; -Webster's glance never faltered from the Captain's nervous hand. - -"You would be very foolish to draw," Webster then assured Benavides. "If -I am forced to kill you, it will be with profound regret. Suppose you -two dear, sweet children run along home and think this thing over. You -may change your mind by to-morrow morn----" - -The Captain's hand, with the speed of a juggler's, had flown to his -holster; but quick as he was, Webster was a split-second quicker. The -sound of his shot roared through the silent _calle_, and Benavides, with -his pistol half drawn, lifted a bloody, shattered hand from the butt as -Webster's automatic swept in a swift arc and covered Arredondo, whose -arms on the instant went skyward. - -"That wasn't a half-bad duel," Webster remarked coldly. "Are you -not obliged to me, Captain, for not blowing your brains out--for -disregarding my finer instincts and refraining from shooting you first -through the abdomen? Bless you, my boy, I've been stuck for years -in places where the only sport consisted in seeing who could take a -revolver, shoot at a tin can and roll it farthest in three seconds. Let -me see your hand." - -Benavides sullenly held up that dripping member, and Webster inspected -it at a respectful distance. "Steel-jacket bullet," he informed the -wounded man. "Small hole--didn't do much damage. You'll be just as well -as ever in a month." - -He helped himself to Arredondo's gun, flipped out the cylinder, -and slipped all six cartridges into his palm. Similarly he disarmed -Benavides, expressed his regret that circumstances had rendered it -imperative to use force, and strolled blithely down the _calle_. In the -darkened _patio_ he groped along the wall until he found the swinging -rope by which he had descended from his room--whereupon he removed his -shoes, tied the laces together, slung them around his neck, dug his toes -into the adobe wall and climbed briskly to his room. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -|THE next morning Webster waited until Dolores appeared and then -accompanied her into the dining room for breakfast. - -"Well, how did you pass your first night in Buenaventura?" she inquired, -in the manufacture of breakfast conversation. - -"Not very well. Jiggers bit me and woke me up, and finally I fell into -a trance and had a vision--about you. After that I couldn't get to sleep -again. I was fairly bursting to see you at breakfast and read your palm. -I've just discovered a wonderful system." - -"Show me," she flashed back at him, and she extended her little hand. He -picked it up gravely and with the dull tine of a fork made a great show -of tracing the lines on her palm. - -"You are about twenty-four years old, and your ancestors were pure-bred -Castilians who came from Madrid, crossing the Atlantic in caravels. Ever -since the first Ruey landed on this coast the family has been identified -with the government of the country in one way or another. Also, Scotch, -French, and Irish blood has been infused into the tribe; your mother -was an Irish woman. When you were quite a little girl, your father, Don -Ricardo Ruey, at that time president of Sobrante, failed to suppress -a revolution and was cornered in the government palace, which was set -afire. - -"Through the bravery and devotion of a cockney gentleman, Colonel Henry -Jenks, an artillery officer in your father's army, you were saved from -perishing in the burning palace. Colonel Jenks turned you over to his -spouse, now known as Mother Jenks, with instructions to raise you a -lydy, and Mother Jenks has carried out those instructions. Colonel Jenks -and your father were executed, and Mother Jenks sent you to the United -States to be educated. You had a brother, Ricardo Luis Ruey, older than -yourself by seven or eight years, I should judge. In some mysterious -manner you and your brother lost track of each other, and at the present -moment he believes you perished in the flames that gutted the government -palace. - -"You are of a proud, independent nature; you work at something for a -living, and inasmuch as you haven't been able to set aside a great deal -of money from your earnings, you are planning to terminate your visit -to your native land at an early date and return to the United States for -the purpose of getting back to work. These plans, however, will never be -consummated. - -"Why? Because you are to be married to a nice man and live happily ever -afterward; and about sixty days from now, if all goes well, I, John S. -Webster, am going to introduce you to your long-lost brother Ricarda You -will first see Ricardo riding at the head of his victorious rebel -troops as he enters Buenaventura. He will be the next president of this -wretched country, if, fortunately, he is not killed in the revolution he -is now fomenting against his father's ancient enemy. Your brother does -not know you are living, and it will be a proud and happy day for me -when I bring him to you. In the interim, what do you purpose having for -breakfast? Ham and eggs sunny side up, an omelette or a cereal?" - -He released her hand and favoured her with the boyish grin that always -had the effect of stripping the years from him as one strips the husk -from a ripe ear of com. She was gazing at him in wide-eyed amazement. - -"Oh, don't doubt me," he pleaded. "It will all come out just as I have -told you. Of course, I don't go in for telling fortunes very often; I'm -a slow old horse to start, but once I sneak into the collar, something -has to give." - -"Is my brother really alive?" - -"He was as late as midnight last night. Do you recall the chap I saved -from being assassinated in New Orleans?" - -"Yes." - -"Your worthy brother. And do you recall the chauffeur whose passage to -this port I was forced to pay?" - -"Yes." - -"The same individual. I sent him ashore in the launch with Billy, and -he has been housed at El Buen Amigo, but left early this morning for the -back-country to open a recruiting office." - -"And you have known this all along and wouldn't tell me?" she reproved -him. - -"Didn't discover it until after I had left him last night; then I put -two and two together and made four." - -"Oh, I can hardly believe it." - -"I never lie." - -"Never?" - -"I mean on serious matters. And you needn't cry about it, Miss Ruey. I -do not purpose being the bearer of welcome news and having my breakfast -ruined for my reward." - -She reached across the little table and squeezed his big brown hand -impulsively. "You're the most wonderful man I ever knew. And does my -poor brother know I am living, Mr. Webster?" - -"No--and I'm not going to tell him. I think it will be much nicer to -restore you to each other on the steps of the government palace on the -day when the Ruey faction comes into its own again. That will make his -victory all the sweeter. I am the innocent bystander who started this -little drama, and by jingo, I want to finish it. Why, it has been years -and years since I've had any real sport." - -"You're so kind!" - -"Not at all. My discovery of your brother was as accidental as falling -downstairs." And he related to her his interview with Ricardo, whose -statements, when compared with the information gleaned from Mother -Jenks, had proved so illuminating. "By the way," he continued, "where -was Ricardo when your father's ship of state went on the rocks?" - -"At school in a military academy in Kentucky. At least, so I was -informed by my cousins here shortly after my arrival, and prior to -losing caste with them because of my association, unchaperoned, with -Billy." - -"It is a marvellous mix-up, which Ricardo can doubtless explain, Miss -Ruey. I know he believes his sister perished with her father; Mother -Jenks didn't know where he was and couldn't communicate with him--and -there you are. However, little old Jack Fix-it will bring you together -again in due course. In the interim, how about those eggs? Straight -up--or flip 'em?" - -She beamed across at him. "We are going to be such good, true friends, -aren't we?" she urged. He almost shivered, but managed a hypocritical -nod. "While we have only known each other twenty-four hours, it seems a -great deal longer than that--probably because Billy has told me so much -about you, and you're--so comfortable and easy to get acquainted with, -and I--I can't very well express my gratitude for what you've done--for -what you're going to do." Her voice faltered; she smiled roguishly -through the tears of her emotion. "If I were only Billy, now, I could -put my arm across your shoulders and settle the matter by saying: -'Johnny, you old horsethief, you're all right.'" - -"The best thing to do would be to cease puffing me up with importance. -And now, before we climb out of the realm of romance and the improbable -to the more substantial plane of things for breakfast, just one brief -word of caution. Now that I have told you your brother lives and is in -Buenaventura, forget it until I mention it again, because his presence -here is his secret, not ours." - -"All right, Caliph," she agreed. "I think I shall call you that -hereafter. Like the late Caliph Haroun A! Raschid, it appears you have a -habit of prowling around o' nights in queer places, doing good deeds for -your subjects. But tell me about my brother. Describe him to me." - -"Not now. Here comes the head waiter with a cablegram for me, I think." - -That functionary came to their table and handed one of the familiar -yellow envelopes to each of them. - -"We'll excuse each other," Dolores suggested. She read: - -Go you if I lose. I like you fine. - -You are a good, game little scout, and Jerome. - -She glanced across at Webster, whose face was a conflicting study of -emotions in which disappointment and amazement appeared to predominate. -"You ancient scoundrel," she heard him murmur. - -"What ho, Caliph! Unpleasant news?" she ventured. - -"Yes--and no. I had one of the finest jobs in the world all staked -out--and now the boss cables me it's filled--by a better man." - -"What are you going to do about it?" - -"Well--as soon as I've had my breakfast, I'm going to cable Neddy Jerome -and tell him I'm satisfied--satisfied to stay here and satisfied he's -a liar. You see, Miss Ruey, he objected vigorously to my coming here in -the first place--wanted me to take a thirty-day vacation and then manage -the Colorado Consolidated Mines Company, Limited, for him. I like Neddy -and would have been glad to go to work for his company, but of course -Billy comes first, and so I declined the offer. Later I changed my mind, -and last night I cabled him I'd accept if he'd wait sixty days--possibly -ninety; and now he replies that he's sorry, but the job is filled by a -better man. That's why I know he's a liar." - -"I see. You figure there isn't a better mining engineer than you--eh, -Caliph?" - -He looked at her reproachfully. "No, but Neddy Jerome does, and I know -he does because he has taken the trouble to tell me so more than once. -And as a rule Neddy inclines toward the truth. However, it's just as -well----" He paused, staring hard at her. "By the way, you foretold -this! Why, this is amazing." - -She could now have wept with laughter. "Well"--soberly--"I told you some -other things equally amazing, did I not?" - -"Yes, you told me other things more or less interesting, but you -_fore_told this. How do you account for that?" - -"The witness declines to answer, on the ground that she may incriminate -herself and be burned for a witch." - -"Remarkable woman!" - -"You were about to remark that it is just as well----" - -"That Neddy's reconciled to losing me, because since cabling him -yesterday evening I've changed my mind again. I'm going to stay here -now." - -"Indeed! Why?" - -"Just to be obstinate. Apparently I'm not wanted here by the powers that -be; so just to rile them I'm going to hang around Sobrante the way Grant -hung around Richmond and argue the question with them. By the way, I see -you received a cablegram also. Better news than mine, I hope." - -She nodded. "I have a little business deal on back home. Haven't got -a great deal invested, but it looks as if I might make ten thousand -dollars." - -He arched his eyebrows and favoured her with a little disapproving -grunt. Sounded like the prospectus of a fake mining promoter--yes, by -thunder, that was it. Dolores was a school teacher, and school teachers -and doctors are ever the mainstay of a swindler's sucker list. - -"You won ten dollars from me yesterday," he challenged. "Bet you another -ten I can tell you the nature of your investment." - -"Go you, if I lose!" Unconsciously she was learning the argot of the -male of the species, as exemplified in Neddy Jerome's cablegram. - -"It's a mining property." - -"You win. It is," she answered truthfully, starting to open her purse. - -"Quartz or placer?" - -"I don't know. Explain." * - -He chuckled at her ignorance. "Quartz is goldbearing rock, and placer is -gold-bearing gravel." - -"Then my mining property is placer, because it has lots of sand." - -"I knew it, I knew it," he warned her solemnly, and he shook an -admonitory finger at her. "Black sand, eh? Is the gold very fine?" - -"I think it is." - -"Then you're stung good and deep--so don't delude yourself into thinking -you have ten thousand dollars coming. I never knew a proposition for -saving the fine gold in black sand that didn't turn out to be a fizzle. -It's the hardest thing in the world to save. Now, listen: You tell me -the name of the flim-flam artist that got you into this deal, and when -I get back to the United States I'll investigate the company; if it's -an out-and-out swindle, I'll take that promoter by the throat and choke -your money out of him, the scoundrel! It is just these fly-by-night -fellows that ruin the finest gambling game in the world and scare off -investors in legitimate mining propositions." - -"Oh, you mustn't--really, Caliph. He's an old man, and I only did it to -help him out." - -"There should be no sentiment in business, Miss Ruey." - -"Oh, well, let's be cheerful and hopeful, Caliph, and discuss a more -important subject." She was very serious now, for by her meddling she -had, she realized, so arranged matters that at a time when John -Stuart Webster's very life depended upon his immediate departure from -Buenaventura, he was planning to stay and face the music, just to be -obstinate. "You must reconsider your latest decision to remain in -this country," she insisted. "Your life may be the price of liberty of -action, you know." - -"'Give me liberty or give me death,'" quoted Webster. - -"But isn't Billy capable of developing the mine after you advance the -cash?" - -"I wouldn't advance him a cent for his mine until I had investigated it -myself." - -"Then you should make some arrangements to safeguard yourself while -making the investigation, and leave Sobrante immediately thereafter. -Isn't that a sensible proposition?" - -"Very--if I felt like leaving Sobrante. But I do not. If that mining -concession is a potential winner, I'll have to stick around and make a -winner out of it before I go away and leave Bill in charge. Besides, I'm -worried about Bill. He's full of malarial fever, and last night I -got thinking about him and decided to send him back to the Colorado -mountains for a few months. This country is going to be in the throes -of a revolution; the chances are we will not be able to do much with our -property until the war is over, and I will be able to do that little. I -want some regular doctors to work on Bill so he'll be fit when he gets -back on the job." - -As a matter of fact, this idea of sending Billy to the United States -had but that moment occurred to Jack Webster; he reflected now that this -plan was little short of an inspiration. It would give Billy and Dolores -an opportunity to marry and have a honeymoon; it would leave him free -of her disturbing presence, and enable him to leave Sobrante when the -Gearys should return. He resolved to speak to Billy about it. - -Dolores's voice broke in upon his cunning reflections. "But Billy tells -me you already have a fortune sufficient for the needs of a caliph -without a court. Why risk your precious life to acquire more? Money -isn't everything in life." - -"No, but the game is." - -"What game? Mining?" - -"The game of life." - -"But this is the game of death." - -"Which makes life all the sweeter if I can beat the game. Perhaps I can -better illustrate my point of view with a story. Some years ago I was -sent to Arizona to examine a mining property and report upon it; if -I advised its purchase, my principals were prepared to buy at my -valuation. Well, when I arrived, I found a miserable shanty close to a -shaft and dump, and in the shanty I found a weatherbeaten couple. -The woman was probably forty but looked fifty. The man had never been -anything but a hard-rock miner--four dollars a day had been the limit of -his earnings in any one day until he stumbled on some float, traced it -up, and located the claims I was there to examine and try to buy. - -"His wife had been a miner's daughter, knowing nothing but drudgery and -poverty and continuing that existence after marriage. For twenty years -she had been darning her husband's socks, washing his clothes, and -cooking his meals. Even after they uncovered the ledge, it wasn't worth -any more than the country rock to them unless they could sell it, -because the man had neither the money nor the ability to develop it -himself. He even lacked the ability to sell it, because it requires real -ability to unload any kind of a mine for a million dollars, and real -nerve on the part of the man who buys. I examined the mine, decided it -was cheap at a million dollars, and so reported to my principals. They -wired me to close, and so I took a sixty-day option in order to verify -the title. - -"Well, time passed, and one bright day I rode up to that shanty with a -deed and a certified check for a million dollars in my pocket; whereupon -I discovered the woman had had a change of heart and bucked over the -traces. No, siree! She would not sign that there deed--and inasmuch as -the claim was community property, her signature was vitally necessary. -She asked me so many questions, however, as to the size of the stamp -mill we would install and how many miners would be employed on the job, -that finally I saw the light and tried a shot in the dark. 'My dear -Mrs. Skaggs,' I said, 'if you'll sign this deed and save us all a lot of -litigation over this option you and your husband have given me, I'll -do something handsome. I will--on my word of honour--I'll give you the -exclusive boarding-house privilege at this mine.'" - -"And what did she say, Caliph?" - -"She said: 'Give me the pen, Mr. Webster, and please excuse my -handwriting; I'm that nervous in business matters.'" - -Dolores's silvery laughter rippled through the room. "But I don't see -the point," she protested. - -"We will come to it presently. I was merely explaining one person's -point of view. You would not, of course, expect me to have the same -point of view as Mrs. Skaggs, of Arizona." - -"Certainly not." - -"All right! Listen to this! In 1907, at the height of the boom times in -Goldfield, Nevada, I was worth a million dollars. On the first day of -October I could have cashed in my mining stocks for a million--and I had -a lot of cash in bank, too. But I'd always worked so hard and been -poor so long that my wealth didn't mean anything to me. I wanted the -exclusive privilege of more slavery, and so I staked a copper prospect, -which later I discovered to consist of uncounted acres of country rock -and about twenty-five dollars' worth of copper stain. In order to save a -hundred dollars I did my own assessment work, drove a pick into my foot, -developed blood-poison, went to the hospital, and was nice and helpless -when the panic came along the middle of the month. The bank went bust, -and my ready cash went with it; I couldn't give my mining stocks away. -Everybody knew I was a pauper--everybody but the doctor. He persisted -in regarding me as a millionaire and sent me a bill for five thousand -dollars." - -"How perfectly outrageous! Why, Caliph, I would have let him sue me." - -"I would have, too--but I didn't. I induced him to settle for one -hundred thousand shares of stock in my copper prospect. The par value -was a dollar a share, and I was going to sell a block at ten cents, but -in view of his high professional standing I let him have it for a nickel -a share. I imagine he still has it. I bought back later all the other -stock I sold, because the property was worthless, and in order to be a -sport I offered him five hundred dollars for his block, but he thought I -was trying to swindle him and asked five thousand." - -"Oh, Caliph!" - -"Wonderful game, isn't it--this game of life. So sweet when a fellow's -taking chances! Now that I am fairly prosperous again, the only thing in -life that really matters is the uncertainty as to whether, when finally -I do leave Sobrante, I shall ride to the steamship landing in a hack or -a hearse." - -"But you could go in a hack this morning and avoid that uncertainty." - -"The millionaire drudge I told you of could have gone to five in a -pretty villa on the Riviera, but she chose a miner's boarding-house." - -"Then why," she persisted, "did you leave the United States with the -firm intention of remaining in Sobrante indefinitely, change your mind -before you were here eight hours, and cable this Neddy Jerome person you -would return in sixty or ninety days--and the following morning decide -to remain, after all!" - -"My dear young lady, if I changed my clothes as often as I change my -mind, the what-you-may-call-'em chaps that manufacture Society Brand -clothes couldn't keep me dressed." - -"But why?" - -"That," he answered gravely, "is a secret." - -"Women delight to pry into men's secrets." - -"I know it. Had a friend once--married. Every night after dinner he used -to sit and stare into the fire and his wife used to ask him what he was -thinking about. He would look up at her owlishly and tell her it was -something he couldn't explain to her, because she'd never understand -it--and that was all he would tell her, although right frequently, I -dare say, he felt like telling her something she could understand! She -brooded over his secret until she couldn^t stand it any more, and one -day she packed her duds and flew home to mother. He let her stay there -three months, and finally one day he sent her a blueprint of what he'd -been thinking about." - -"What was it?" - -"An internal-combustion engine. You see, until she left him, he'd never -been able to get set to figure out something in connection with the -inlet valves----" - -"Stop right there, Caliph. I'm rebuked. I'll let you get set to -think----" - -"I didn't mean that. You let me get set yesterday--and I figured it all -out then--and last night--and a minute ago. I don't care to do any more -thinking to-day. Please talk to me." - -"And you refuse to tell me why you cabled your friend Jerome?" - -"You will never know. I told you it's a secret." - -"Bet you I find out." - -"How much? That ten thousand dollars you expect to make from the -flour-gold in your black-sand claim? And by the way, ten dollars, -please. I won it for guessing you were interested in a mining -proposition." - -She returned to him the bill she had won from him the day before. "Ten -thousand dollars suits me. Of course I haven't got the money just now, -and this is what Billy calls a finger-bet, but if I lose, I guarantee to -pay. Are we betting even money? I think that is scarcely fair. Under the -circumstances I should be entitled to odds." - -"Nothing doing! No odds on a bet of this nature to a seeress who has -already jarred me from soul to vermiform appendix by making good! You -know too blamed much already, and how you discovered, it is a problem -that may drive me crazy yet." - -After breakfast they repaired to the veranda to await the result of -Webster's experiment with Don Juan Cafetro. Sure enough, the wreck had -again returned; he was seated on the edge of the veranda waiting for -them; as they approached, he held up a grimy, quivering hand, in the -palm of which lay--a five-dollar gold-piece. - -"What?" Mr. Webster said, amazed. "Still unchanged!" - -"I thried to change it at half a dozen _cantinas_," Don Juan wheezed, -"but divil a bit av systim did any av thim have. Wan offered this in -spiggoty money an' the other offered that, an' sure if I'd taken the -best that was offered me in exchange, ye might have t'ought I'd tuk more -nor wan dhrink." - -"Bravo! Three long, loud, raucous cheers for Don Juan Cafetro!" Dolores -cried. "That's just exactly what he expected you to do, Don Juan." - -"Give a dog a bad name, an' 'twill shtick to him," the derelict replied -resignedly. - -"Was it a terrible task to come back without a drink, Don Juan?" - -He shivered. "A shky-blue kangaroo wit' a pink tail an' green ears -chased me into this _patio_, ma'am." - -"You're very brave, Cafferty. How does it feel to win back your -self-respect?" Webster asked him. - -"Beggin' the young leddy's pardon--it feels like hell, sor." - -"Caliph, don't be cruel," Dolores pleaded. "Call a waiter and give Don -Juan what you promised him." - -So Webster went into the hotel bar and returned presently with a bottle -of brandy and a glass, which he filled and held out toward Don Juan. -"One of the paradoxes of existence, Don Juan," he observed, "lies in the -fact that so many of the things in life that are good for us are bad -for us. This jolt will disperse the menagerie and quiet your nerves, but -nevertheless it is a nail in your coffin." - -Don Juan proved himself a true Hibernian soldier of misfortune by -jesting under fire. "Whilst ye have the hammer in yer hand, sor, dhrive -in another," he pleaded. Webster declined, however, and returned the -bottle to the bar, where he had it marked for Don Juan and set -aside, for it was his opinion, evolved from a vast experience with -hard-drinking miners, that the only cure for poor, diseased Don Juan lay -in a judicious application of hair from the dog that had bitten him. - -"And this is another reason why I must stay here longer than I -intended," he said softly to Dolores, indicating Don Juan with his -thumb. "He's just about ready to be poured back into the bottle, and -I'm going to see if I cannot restore him to his original solid state. -Experiments in chemistry always did fascinate me." - -He bade her adieu, and accompanied by his protg, strolled uptown on -a shopping tour. Here he outfitted Don Juan neatly but not gaudily and -added to his own personal effects two high-power sporting rifles, -three large-calibre automatic pistols, and a plentiful supply of -ammunition--after which he returned to the hotel, first having conducted -Don Juan to a barber shop and given him instructions to report for -orders and his midday drink the instant he should have acquired the -outward evidences of respectability. - -At the hotel Webster found two messages awaiting him. One was from Billy -Geary, up at San Miguel de Padua, advising him that everything was in -readiness for a trip to the mine; the other was a note from Ricardo -Ruey, but signed with his alias of Andrew Bowers. Webster read: - -My Dear Friend: - -Permit me to congratulate you on your marksmanship last night and to -commend your forbearance in winging a gent where killing was not only -justified but to be encouraged. You have, so I am authoritatively -informed, completely buffaloed your two gentlemen. They cannot, in our -own classical English, "quite make you." - -However, this letter is not all gossip. A certain higher-up has -at length been convinced that it would be extremely inadvisable to -eliminate you now. It has been pointed out to this person that you are -a prom. cit. up in your neck of the woods and dangerous to monkey -with--personally and because such monkeying may lead to unpleasant -complications with your paternal government. A far more artistic and -effective way of raising hell with you has been suggested to this -higher-up individual, and he has accepted it. Indeed, the plan pleased -him so much that he laughed quite heartily. Really, it is quite -diabolical, but remember, he who laughs last laughs best--and I'm the -villain in this sketch. - -Barring accidents, my dear Webster, you are good for at least six weeks -of existence. Beyond that I dare not guarantee you. - -Thine, - -Andrew Bowers. - -"That makes it nice," the recipient of this comforting communication -soliloquized. He went up to his room, packed a duffle-bag with such -belongings as he would find necessary during a prolonged stay in the -mountains, and at luncheon was fortunate enough to find Dolores in the -dining room when he entered. Again she motioned him to the vacant chair -opposite to her. - -"I'm going up to San Miguel de Padua this afternoon," he announced as he -took his seat. A look of extreme anxiety clouded her lovely face, and -he noticed it. "Oh, there's no risk," he hastened to assure her. "That -scamp of a brother of yours, through his friends in high places, has -managed to get me a reprieve." He handed her Ricardo's letter. - -She looked up, much relieved, from her perusal. "And how long do you -expect to be gone, Caliph?" - -"Quite a while. I'll be busy around that dratted concession for a couple -of weeks, surveying and assaying and what-all; then, while waiting for -our machinery and supplies to arrive from the United States, I shall -devote my spare time to hunting and fishing and reforming Don Juan -Cafetro. The cool hills for mine." - -"What a selfish, unsociable programme!" she reflected. "I wonder if it -will occur to him to come down here once in a while and take me for -a drive on the Malecon and talk to me to keep me from dying of ennui -before I meet Ricardo. I'll wait and see if he suggests it." - -However, for reasons best known to himself and the reader, Mr. Webster -made no such interesting suggestion; so she decided that while he was -tremendously nice, he was, nevertheless, a very queer man and thoroughly -exasperating. - -Before leaving that day Webster turned over to her a steamer-trunk -filled with books, and with something of the feeling of a burglar about -to rob a bank, asked her if she would care to ride down to the station -with him. "Sort of speeding the parting guest, you know," he explained -comfortably, for somehow, at that moment, he felt a trifle untrue to -Billy Geary. Of course, Dolores, having nothing more pleasurable or -exciting to do, would--and did. At the station they found Don Juan -waiting in charge of the baggage. - -Just before the train pulled out John Stuart Webster took Dolores's -hand. "Good-bye, Seeress," he said very soberly. "The trail forks here -for the first time--possibly the last, although I'll try to be on hand -to make good on my promise to present you to your brother the day he -occupies the palace. However, if I shouldn't be in town that day, just -go up and introduce yourself to him. It's been wonderful to have met you -and known you, even for such a brief period. I shall never forget you -and the remarkable twenty-four hours just passed." - -"I shall not soon forget them myself, Caliph--nor you," she added. -"Haven't you been a busy little cup of tea, Caliph! Within twenty-four -hours after landing, you have changed your mind three times, lost the -best job in the world, had your fortune told, been marked for -slaughter, acquired a new-found friend and commenced actively and -with extraordinarily good results the work of reforming him, soused a -gentleman in the fountain, spurned another with the tip of your boot, -rode with me around the Malecon and listened to the band concert, -bundled poor Billy off to San Miguel de Padua, received a challenge to -fight a duel, accepted it, had it rejected, engaged in a street fight -and shot a man through the hand, discovered my brother presumed to be -dead, and received a reprieve from your enemies, while they perfect new -plans for destroying you. Really, you are quite a caliph." - -"Oh, there's a dash of speed in the old horse yet, Miss Ruey," he -assured her laughingly. "Now listen: don't tell anybody about your -brother, and don't tell Billy about my adventures since he left for San -Miguel de Padua." - -"But I'm not liable to see Billy----" - -"Yes, you are--extremely liable. I'm going to send him back to you as -soon as I can spare him, because I know you'll be lonesome and bored to -death in this lonesome town, and Bill is bully good company. And I don't -want you to tell him about the mess I'm in, because it would only worry -him; he can't aid me, and the knowledge that I was in any danger, real -or fancied, would be sufficient to cause him to rebel against my plans -for his honeym--for his vacation. He'd insist on sticking around to -protect me." He looked down at her little hand where it rested in -his, so big and brown and hard; with his free hand be patted her hand -paternally. "Good-bye, Seeress," he said again; and turning to the -steps, he leaped aboard just as the train started to move out of the -station. - -"Go--good-bye--Caliph," she called mournfully. Then to herself: "Bless -his heart, he did remember I'd be terribly lonely, after all. He isn't a -bit queer, but oh, dear, he is _so_ exasperating. I could bump his kind -old head against a wall!" She turned her back on the train, fearful that -from where he clung on the steps he could, even at that distance, see -the sudden rush of tears that blinded her. However, Don Juan Cafe-tro, -with his rubicund nose to the window of the last coach, did see -them--saw her grope toward the carriage waiting to take her back to the -hotel. - -"Why, shure, the poor darlint's cryin'," he reflected. "Be the Great Gun -an Athlone! Shure I t'ought all along 'twas Billy Geary she had her eye -on--God love him! An' be the same token, didn't she tell me I was to -shtay sober an' take care av Masther Webster? Hah-hah-a-a-a! Well! I'll -say nothin' an' I'll be neuthral, but--but--but----" - -From which it may be inferred that romance was not yet burned out of Don -Juan's Gaelic soul. He would be "neuthral," but--but--but--he reserved -the right to butt in! - - - - -CHAPTER XX - -|THROUGHOUT the slow, tortuous journey, while the train crept up -and ever upward into the hills, Don Juan entertained his patron with -alternate snatches of the song closest to his heart (or rather his -stomach)--"The Cruiskeen Lawn," which, liberally translated for the -benefit of those not familiar with the Gaelic, means "the morning's -morning." Between verses the outcast suggested the advisability of a -drink to ward off approaching faintness or discoursed most learnedly on -the roadbed, which was a tribute to his efficiency as a section-boss in -his other incarnation. - -Arrived at San Miguel de Padua about midnight, Webster found the climate -temperate, in fact, decidedly cool. Billy was waiting for them and was -properly amazed, but not scandalized when Don Juan Cafetro, abusing -the station hands in a horrible hodgepodge of English and Spanish, -superintended the landing of the baggage on the platform. - -"I had to bring him with me," Webster explained. "I'm going to wean him, -and after that baby quits crying for his bottle, believe me, Bill, we'll -have the prince of a foreman for our Mine. Quite a character, is Don -Juan, when you dig down into him." - -"Dig far enough into that ruin and you'll find firecrackers," Billy -admitted. "However, John, I'm afraid he won't explode. The powder's -damp. How did you leave Dolores?" - -"Fit as a fiddle, Bill." - -"How does she stack up on better acquaintance, Johnny?" - -"She's a skookum lass. She sent her love and I promised to send you back -to her P. D. Q. So don't bother me with talk about her. If you think -you're going to sit by my bed half the night and talk about your heart's -desire, you've another guess coming. You'll see her again in a week or -ten days, I hope." - -"No? Is that so, Johnny? Bully for you, you old wampus cat. Tell Don -Juan to steer you over to the Globo de Oro. He knows the place. I've got -to go and hire a mule or some other quadruped for, Don Juan if we're to -avoid a late start in the morning. Good-night, old fellow." - -They were up at daybreak, and with three heavily laden pack-mules in -charge of two semi-naked _mozos_, while the cook jogged comfortably -along on his big splay feet in the rear, they set out for Billy's -concession. From San Miguel de Padua they turned west on a splendid -highway paved with limestone blocks and vending up into the hills on an -easy gradient. - -"Government built, this, I dare say," Webster suggested as they trotted -along side by side. - -Billy nodded. "It is the only evidence I have observed of an inclination -on the part of President Sarros to give the lowly peon a run for his -taxes. This highway stretches from San Miguel de Padua to the western -national boundary; I imagine Sarros built it with some idea of enabling -him to get there first with the most guns in the event of war with his -neighbours on the Pacific side. Quite a rare plucked 'un, is Sarros--to -quote Mother Jenks." - -"Are you acquainted with him, Bill? What kind of a bird is he?" - -"Oh, yes, indeed, I know him. We're great _amigos_. I'm the man that -taught him the folly of betting too heavily on two pair after the draw. -He has Indian blood in him--quite a little of it, in fact; but he is -well educated. Speaks French, Spanish, and English very fluently. He's -a short man and wears high-heeled boots to make himself look taller than -he really is. He is crafty, suspicious, sensitive, and possessed of a -sense of humour--only his humour is tinged with cruelty. He'd steal a -cross off a grave and kill his best friend as quickly, should political -expediency demand it, as you or I would kill a rattlesnake. He has a -rattling good intelligence-department, pays liberally for information, -and keeps down rebellion by the simple process of locating the -ringleaders and shooting them. He bumped off old General Morelos some -six weeks ago--did it on mere suspicion, too." - -"You must have come to Sobrante mighty well recommended to get into the -good graces of the scoundrel." - -"Not at all! Sarros is a peculiar man. It pleases him to pose as a -democrat and mingle freely with the proletariat--accompanied, however, -by a strong bodyguard. Frequently he visits the cafs in Buenaventura -and fraternizes with all and sundry. I met him first in a joint known -as The Frenchman's, where he used to come to watch the drawing for the -lottery. I was there matching another American for half-dollars, and -Sarros edged up, all interest, and homed in on the game. Before the -session was over we'd swapped cards, and the instant he learned I was a -mining man and down here to give Sobrante the onceover, he invited me -up to the palace for dinner. Our acquaintance quickly ripened into -friendship--on his part. It seems he likes to have enterprising -Americans come to Sobrante and exploit the country, because experience -has demonstrated that if the visitors develop a good thing, there is -always a rake-off in it for Sarros." - -Webster nodded. "Same old game anywhere you go south of the Rio Grande," -he replied. - -"I had a couple of thousand dollars I'd saved on a job I had down in -Rhodesia, so I was enabled to put up a big front. I received government -permission to prospect government lands, and--" - -"Do you pay a royalty to the government, Bill?" - -"Five per cent." - -"How about the president's rake-off?" - -"Oh, that's unofficial, of course, but it's understood we pay him 5 per -cent, of our output." - -"Anybody else to take care of?" - -"No, that cleans up the gang. Loaiza, the Minister of the Interior, -wanted in, but I kicked like a bay steer and Sarros shooed him off." - -"A fine lot of bandits to do business with!" Webster declared -disgustedly. "Still, it's their way of doing business, and much as we -dislike that kind of business, we'll have to do it that way or not at -all. The government ought to get 10 per cent, of our gross output, -and Sarros ought to be shot. However, I dare say we can stand for the -blackmail if, as you say, you have twelve-dollar ore." - -"Wait and assay it yourself," Billy assured him. For thirty miles they -followed the government highway, and then debouched to the southwest -along a neglected road just wide enough to accommodate the clumsy -oxcarts of the peons. The country was sparsely settled and evidently -given over to stockraising. By degrees the road lost itself in the tall, -dry grass, and became a faint trail which led into a forest of fir -and other woods, with a good deal of mahogany and with very little -underbrush. Billy rode in front, following through the timber a trail -of his own blazing; and on the afternoon of the third day they -dropped swiftly into a bare brown valley lying between timbered hills, -displaying here and there the red stain of oxide of iron, from which -evidence Webster knew he was in a mineral country. Billy pointed to a -yellow mound at the base of one of the toes of the range flanking the -valley on the south. - -"There's the claim," he announced. "You can see the dump from here." - -A ribbon of green ran down a canon from the south and out into the -brown, parched valley, where it suddenly disappeared. - -"Sink," Billy elucidated, following the direction of his friend's -gaze and divining his thoughts. "That creek lies entirely on our -concession--about thirty miner's inches of water, I should judge. It -disappears in the sands out there at the end of the green streak, but -the irrigation along its banks has been sufficient to insure plenty of -good feed for our stock." - -Darkness had descended on the valley by the time they had pitched camp -and eaten supper. They were up at dawn the following morning, however, -and immediately after breakfast Jack Webster went to his duffle-bag and -brought forth a dozen little canvas sacks and a prospector's hammer. -"Now then, William, my son," he announced, "light the lantern and we'll -see if you've forgotten all I taught you about mining." - -They clambered up the dump to a point where two v light steel rails -projected over the edge. On top of the dump, lying beside the rails, -were two small, rusty, steel ore cars; the rails led from the edge -of the dump to the mouth of a tunnel in the hillside and disappeared -therein. - -Webster stood a moment, looking round him. "How did you happen to locate -this ledge?" he demanded. "Was it grass-root stuff, with an out-cropping -here at the foot of the hill? No, of course it wasn't. You haven't -enough ore on the dump. What the devil were you driving at?" - -"Only a small portion of that dump is mine, Jack, and I didn't locate -the ground originally. I came into this valley from the south, and as I -worked up the range, I found a bald spot close to the top of the hill, -and a gallows-frame over an abandoned shaft. Naturally, I went down -the shaft to see why it had been abandoned. To my surprise, I found a -twelve-foot vein of free-milling ore, on a contact between andesite and -Silurian limestone. The ledge stood straight up and down, which seemed -to argue great depth." - -"Somebody had found an outcropping on top of that hill," Webster -declared with conviction, "and sunk a shaft on the vein to open it up -and determine its width and direction. How deep was this old shaft? -Thirty or forty feet?" - -"Thirty-two feet. I figured it out just that way, too. After determining -approximately which way the ledge was pitching, I made up my mind I'd -have a tunnel driven to cut the ledge at right angles at the foot of the -hill, since no practical man would mine from the top of a hill and hoist -his ore through a shaft, when he could mine from the bottom and haul -his ore out on cars through a tunnel. So I came prowling down into the -valley and found this tunnel. The work had been abandoned for a couple -of years, and after examining the tunnel I thought I knew why. They had -failed to cut the ledge as they expected." - -"Hum-m! And what did you do, Bill?" - -"I got my transit and ran a line from the shaft on the hill, following -the direction in which the ledge was running, and marked out the exact -point toward the base of the hill where I would start my tunnel to cut -the ledge. To my surprise, I discovered my predecessor had selected that -identical spot. So I verified my calculations and then sat down to think -it over." - -"You should have suspected a fault immediately." Webster chided the -younger man. "This is a volcanic country-----" - -"Well," Billy interrupted, "I suspected a fault, but not immediately. -Remember I'm fifteen years your junior, professor. I remembered that -frequent and violent earthquakes occur in this country, and it seemed -to me a reasonable hypothesis to blame some ancient and particularly -violent seismic disturbance, which had faulted the vein and set it over -a considerable distance. According to my calculation, that other man -should have cut the vein at eighty-three feet--yet he had gone on one -hundred and two before quitting. So I got half a dozen peons and drove -ahead nineteen feet on the other fellow's tunnel; and by Heck, Johnny, I -cut the vein!" - -"Bully boy! And then?" - -"I drifted ten feet on the vein, and the ore suddenly gave out. It -stopped just like that, proving I'd come to the upper end of the vein -where it had faulted; so I just worked up and around, stoping and -sinking a winze here and there, until just about the time my cash -reserve was getting pretty low I picked up the true vein and opened it -up for the full width. Come in, and I'll show you." - -They entered the tunnel, to the signal dismay of dozens of large bats. -When they reached the vein, Webster broke off samples of the ore every -three or four feet, crawled after Billy up through the stope and back -to the true vein, from the face of which he also took numerous samples; -then he crawled out into the sunshine again, hot, dirty, and perspiring. - -"Billy, you'll be a real miner yet; see if you won't," was all the -praise he tendered his youthful partner, standing beside him in -anticipation of a compliment, as Webster got out his portable assay -outfit. - -For three days Webster worked, determining the values of each sample, -only to find that his assays confirmed Billy's. Then he visited the old -shaft on top of the hill, assayed samples procured there, roamed the -range in the immediate vicinity, marking with expert eye the timber he -would find so useful and close at hand when stulls and lagging for the -tunnel should be needed; then he selected a site where the waters of -the stream could be impounded in a little draw far up the hillside, and -returned to camp to render his final report. - -"You were right, son," he announced. "This mine is a humdinger and no -mistake; if you and I live ten years we'll be worth ten millions between -us--maybe more." - -Billy's jaundiced eyes glowed hungrily. "We'll put in a hundred -stamps----" - -"Well, we'll try ten for a starter," Webster interrupted dryly, "and add -more as the mine pays its way. Our first consideration is the building -of about ten miles of road through that timber, and repairs to that old -dirt road connecting with the Grand Highway. I noticed there isn't much -hard rock work to do, however, and we'll shoot the trees out of our way -with dynamite. After we have a passable trail broken into this valley it -won't take long to haul in our freight from the railroad at San Miguel -de Padua. We'll cut all our frame- and foundation-timbers for the -stamp-mill right here on the ground, and our other buildings will all -be adobe. We'll have to put in a concrete dam up there on the hill and -build a flume to the stamps. Oh, yes, my son, we'll run the stamps by -water power. We'll have a five-hundred-foot drop at an ample angle, with -the last hundred feet almost perpendicular; believe me, when the water -comes through the penstock, anything in front will have to get out of -the way. The same power will operate a little electric-light plant to -light the grounds and buildings and workings, run the drills, and so -on. Yes, it's the sweetest mining proposition on earth--only, like all -high-class goods, it has one flaw when you examine it closely." - -"You're crazy," Billy challenged. "Name the flaw!" - -"Sarros!" Webster replied smilingly. "That scoundrel makes a gamble -out of an otherwise sure thing. However," he added, recalling the note -received from Ricardo Ruey just before his departure from Buenaventura -and reflecting that to be forewarned is to be forearmed, "we'll accept -the gamble. That rascal can't live forever, and he may be eliminated -before he causes us any trouble." - -"What will it cost us to get this mine on a paying basis, Johnny*" - -"Well, back home, I'd figure on spending at least hundred thousand -dollars; but I dare say, taking consideration the low cost of labour in -Sobrante and the raw, natural resources of power and timber right on -the ground, we ought to put this deal over for fifty thousand at the -outside. Praise be, I have cash enough to do the trick without calling -in any help, and such being the case, we'll not waste any time but hop -to the job in a hurry and make the fur fly." - -"All right, Jack. What's the programme?" - -"Well, first off, son, I'm not going to stay in this country and lose -myself managing this mine. That's your job, because you're young and -unimportant in your profession and have the ability to get away with the -job. You can afford to spend the next fifteen years here, but I cannot. -I can only afford to come down here every couple of years and relieve -you for a vacation." - -"That's the way I figured it, Jack." - -"All right then, Bill, let us start in by giving you your first -vacation. If you're going to dig in here and make the fur fly, you've -got to be in tip-top physical condition--and you are thin and gaunted -and full of chills and fever. Just before I left Buenaventura I cashed -a draft for five thousand dollars on my letter of credit at the Banco -Nacional, and placed it to the credit of your account there. - -"To-morrow morning you will take your horse, one pack-mule, and one -_mozo_ and ride for San Miguel de Padua, where you will take the train -for Buenaventura. In Buenaventura you may do what you blame please, but -if I were you, boy, I'd try to get married and go back to the U. S. -A. for my honeymoon. And when I finally hit a town that contained some -regular doctors I'd let them paw me over and rehabbit me and overhaul -my bearings and put me in such nice running order I'd be firing on all -twelve cylinders at once. - -"And when I was feeling tip-top once more I'd wire old John Stuart -Webster and tell him so, after which I'd stand by for a cable from the -said sourdough inviting me to return and take up my labours." Billy's -wan yellow face lighted up like a sunrise on the desert. "I guess that -plan's kind of poor," he announced feelingly. "You're right, Jack. I'm -in rotten condition and I ought to be right before I start. Still, if -I should arrange to get married before I leave, I'd like mighty well to -have a good man and true see me safely over the hurdles." - -"That's nice, son, but I haven't time to be your best man. Arranging the -honeymoon lets me out, Bill. I'm in a hurry to finish here and get -back, so the sooner we both start our prospective jobs the sooner we'll -finish. Have a quiet little marriage, Bill, without any fuss or feathers -or voices breathing o'er Eden. What are the odds, provided you -get hitched properly? Besides, I'm in mortal dread of that town of -Buenaventura, The sewer system is bad; it's rotten with fever; and you'd -better get that girl out of it P. D. Q., and the quicker the better. -Myself, I prefer to stay up here in these mountains in a temperate -climate where there are no mosquitoes." - -Billy saw that Webster was serious and would resent any interference in -his plans. "All right, Jack," he assented. "You're the boss." - -"Fine. Now, Bill, you listen to father and be guided accordingly. -When you get to Buenaventura, wire the Bingham Engineering Company, of -Denver, using my name, and tell them to add to my order given them last -month and held for shipping directions, twelve dozen picks, twelve dozen -shovels, twelve dozen mattocks, say, six dozen axes, brush knives, a big -road plow, and whatever other things you happen to think of and which -would come in handy when building our road. Also, when you get to -New Orleans, buy a ton of dynamite and an adequate supply of fuse and -fulminating caps, pay for it and ship it to me at Buenaventura. Further, -look around in New Orleans and buy a stanch three ton motor truck. We'll -need it for getting in supplies from San Miguel de Padua. Pay for the -truck also, and if you go broke and cannot reach me by cable, wire -Neddy Jerome at the Engineers' Club in Denver and kick his eye out in my -honoured name. - -"I guess that's about all of your job, Bill. As for me, I'll camp right -here. I'll have a deal of surveying to do and I plan to sweat the booze -out of that Cafferty person. I'll make Don Juan my chain man and run the -tail off him. Then I'll be busy with preliminary plans, arranging for -labour and so on, and when I'm idle I'll go hunting." - -In conformity with this plan, therefore, Billy said good-bye to his -friend and packed out for San Miguel de Padua bright and early next -morning. During the following ten days Webster managed to keep himself -fairly busy around the camp at the mine; then for a week he hunted and -fished, and finally, when that began to pall on him, his agile mind -returned to business and the consideration of the possibility of a flaw -in Billy's title to the claim; whereupon he suddenly decided to return -to Buenaventura and investigate that title fully before proceeding to -throw dollars right and left. While socially he was wildly prodigal with -his dollars, in business matters no Scotchman was more canny or more -careful of his baubees. - -At the head of his little cavalcade, therefore, he rode out one morning -for the railroad, whereat Providence, in its inscrutable wisdom, -ordained that en route he should fall in with no less a personage than -Don Ricardo Luiz Ruey, _ne_ Andrew Bowers. Ricardo was mounted, armed, -and alone, and at sight of Webster he shouted with delight and spurred -toward him. - -"What the devil! You, Rick, the government cut-up. What are you doing in -these parts?" Webster rode up and shook hands. - -"Oh, I'm Robin Hooding it around this part of the country. It is so -secluded, you know, and Sarros hasn't any friends or any telegraph lines -or any garrisons up this way. I heard in San Miguel de Padua that you -were camped yonder, and I was on my way over to confer with you on -matters of state." - -"You'll have to confer as we ride along. How does your business -progress, Rick?" - -"Beyond my wildest expectations. By the way, I need your help, friend -Webster." - -"I'll do anything within reason, Rick." - -"I figured you would, so I have already imposed on your good nature to a -slight extent. Met your friend Geary at El Buen Amigo a couple of weeks -ago, just before he sailed for the United States. He was telling me you -had to have a lot of tools for road building, so I cabled in a secret -cipher to the So-brantean revolutionary junta in New Orleans to ship -these tools to you immediately. They arrived on the last trip of the -_Atlanta_ and now repose in Leber's warehouse waiting for you to call -and remove them." - -"You scoundrel! What have you sent me?" - -"A couple of hundred rifles and three machine-guns, branded axes, picks, -shovels, plows, and so on. I also ran in three cases of ammunition, -labelled grindstones, two more cases disguised as bolts, and quite -several thousand labelled nails in kegs. I should feel rather sorry for -you if my friend Sarros should get suspicious and investigate, but -I haven't any fear that he will. You see, he knows you're here on -legitimate business. He has investigated and learned that you are a bona -fide mining engineer of considerable reputation--and then, you know, -your friend Geary dickered with him for the concession. The mining -property you are about to develop belongs to the people, not to Sarros; -yet he has bartered it away and will divert the royalty to his own -pocket instead of the public treasury." - -"Hum-m-m! What do you want me to do with all those munitions consigned -to me?" - -"Arrange with Leber to keep them there until you get ready to build -your road into the mine. I want them there when my American mercenaries -arrive in Buenaventura. By the way, you are going to import these -mercenaries for me. They are American miners and road-builders in the -employ of the Honda Mining & Development Company, which is to be the -name of your enterprise. I hope you'll like the name, Webster. I picked -it out myself." - -"You cool scoundrel! You're making a cat's paw out of me." - -"That is because you happen to be so handy for my purpose. You see -my plan, do you not? I'm going to attack Buenaventura from within and -without. I'm going to come down on Sarros like a wolf on the fold, and -the job is scheduled for next Saturday night a week." - -"Look here, Rick, my boy, I have no desire to mix in the politics of -this country." - -"You have some desire, however, to mix in its wealth," Ricardo reminded -him. - -"Well?" - -"I'm the only man that can help you. By the way, do not order your -machinery shipped until after I am seated firmly on the throne of my -fathers." - -"Why?" - -"It's been framed with Sarros to let you spend your money on that -concession and get the mine in running order; then a fake suit, alleging -an error in the government survey, will be filed. It will be claimed -that the concession given your friend Geary is, by virtue of erroneous -government surveys, the property of a citizen of Sobrante. The courts -here do as Sarros tells them. You are to be kicked out, busted, and -despairing, and your nicely equipped little mine will be taken over as -a government monopoly and run for the benefit of the government, to wit, -Sarros and his satellites. We had to cook up a dirty deal like that to -save your life. Of course, now that I have warned you in time, you -are safe. We schemed a proposition, however, that worked both ways. It -enabled us to save you and to save us, by permitting the shipment, free -of suspicion, of arms for the rebels that are to attack the city from -within. Naturally I had to cache their arms within the city--and -that was a hard problem until you happened along. Thank you, fairy -godfather." - -"My thanks are due you, Ricardo. I'm for you, first, last, and all the -time, and against this Sarros outfit. By the way, how do you purpose -moving your machine-guns?" - -"We'll have to carry them, I guess." - -"Well, I'll have a small auto-truck delivered in Buenaventura by that -time. You might arrange to armour it with sheet steel; and with a couple -of machine-guns mounted in it, and a crew of resolute Americans behind -the machine-guns, you could caper from one end of the city to the other -and clear a path for your infantry." - -"Thank you, my friend. I'll borrow the motor truck and arrange to armour -it. That's a bully idea. Are you bound for Buenaventura now?" Webster -nodded. "Then," Ricardo suggested, "I'll meet you in my room at El Buen -Amigo next Wednesday night at eleven and explain the details of my plans -to you if you care to hear them. I think they're air-tight myself, but -somehow I think I'd feel more certain of them if you approve them." - -"I'll be there, Rick, and the day you run that outlaw Sarros off the -grass you'll know why I am for you." - -"Good-bye, old man. You will never know how grateful you have made me." - -Ruey shook hands with Webster and rode off through the timber, leaving -John Stuart Webster to pursue the even tenor of his way, until at length -he arrived once more in Buenaventura and sought accommodations at the -Hotel Mateo. And there, as he entered the lobby and gazed through a -glass door across the _patio_ and into the veranda, he saw that which -disturbed him greatly. In a big wicker rocker Dolores Ruey sat, rocking -gently and busily stitching on a piece of fancy work! - -Billy Geary gone back to the United States, and Dolores was still in -Buenaventura! Amazing! Why, what the devil did Billy mean by letting her -have her own way like that? Of course they hadn't been married, or she -would not now be out there on the veranda, and of course they hadn't -quarrelled, because that was an impossibility, and of course Billy had -departed alone for the U. S. A., else he would have returned to their -camp in the hills back of San Miguel de Padua. - -"Well, I know what I'm going to do," Webster decided. "I'm not going to -be led into temptation while Billy's not on the job--so I'll not put up -at the Hotel Mateo after all. I'll just sneak around to El Buen Amigo -and fix it with that old Mother Jenks not to tip off my presence in town -to Dolores Ruey until I can get the lay of the land and see what the -devil has happened to all my well-laid plans." - -He retreated out the front door and called a carriage, into which he was -about to step, bag and baggage, when Don Juan Cafetro came rushing up -in great excitement. "Sure, where are ye goin' now, sor. Is there no -room for ye in the Hotel Mateo?" - -"Their beds have jiggers in them, and I just remembered that," Webster -fibbed. "Hop in, John, and we'll drive around to Mr. Geary's lodgings in -El Buen Amigo." - -"But I come t'rough the _patio_ just now," Don Juan explained, "an' who -should I meet but the young leddy." - -"You infernal scoundrel! Did you tell her I was in town?" - -"Sure I did, sor. An' why not?" - -"None of your infernal business. You've spoiled everything. You're a -muddle-headed monkey and I've a great notion to let you get drunk again. -Take the baggage back into the hotel." - -Don Juan Cafetro, greatly humbled and rebuffed, stepped aside and -watched Webster stride back into the hotel. "God love ye, sor," he -mumbled, "know-in' what I know, is it likely I'd let ye make a monkey -out av her or yerself? Ye made yer plans wit' Misther Geary wit'out -consultin' her. Now go, ye grrand big divil, an' find out why she kicked -yer schame to smithereens." And with a solemn and knowing wink at the -duffle-bag, Don Juan picked that article up and followed after his -master. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI - -|JOHN STUART WEBSTER'S agile brain was the repository of many -conflicting emotions as he bathed, shaved, and changed from his soiled -khaki field clothes to a suit of ducks before presenting himself before -Dolores. - -Had Billy's courage forsaken him at the last minute, with the result -that he had gone back to the United States without having settled the -question of Dolores's future? Had he proposed and been rejected, or had -he proposed, been accepted, and had his plans for an immediate marriage -vetoed by Dolores? - -In either event, why had Billy failed to leave a note for him at the -Hotel Mateo, or mailed him a letter to the Globo de Oro at San Miguel de -Padua, advising him of the change in the plan of action outlined for him -by Webster? - -If Dolores had accepted him, then Billy Geary was just the sort of -impulsive youth who could not rest until he had advised Webster of his -luck; on the other hand, Billy was susceptible, in matters of love, -to the deep melancholia which is as distinct a characteristic of the -Hibernian nature as wit and light-heartedness, and in the event of -disappointment he would not be apt to rush to his partner with the news; -a feeling of chagrin would prompt him to keep his own counsel, to go -away and stay away until he had Smothered the ache and could return and -meet Dolores without restraint and embarrassment. - -In the simplicity of his single-hearted devotion Webster was puzzled to -understand how any woman in her right mind could fail to fall in love -with Billy Geary. To begin, he was a fine-looking lad and would look -finer when the chills and fever had been eradicated; he was far from -being a runt, mentally or physically; he was gentle, well-mannered, -kind, with the gift of turning a pretty speech to a woman and meaning it -with all his heart and soul. A man he was, from heels to hair, and a man -with prospects far above the average. To Webster's way of thinking, the -girl who married Billy might well count herself fortunate. - -Dolores greeted him with unaffected pleasure. "Well, Caliph!" she said. -Just that. It made Webster sensible of a feeling of having returned to -her after an absence of several years. "I'm so glad to see you, Miss -Ruey," he replied, and added boldly, "particularly since I didn't expect -to." - -She knew what her reply would lead to; nevertheless, with that -dissimulation which can only be practised in perfection by a clever and -beautiful woman, she answered with equal boldness: "Indeed! Pray why?" - -"Well, for a pretty good reason, I think. A few weeks ago, after -examining Bill's concession very thoroughly, I told him he was -a potential millionaire. Now, while I disclaim any appearance of -braggadocio, when John Stuart Webster, E.M., makes any mine owner a -report like that, he is apt to be taken very seriously. And having made -Bill a potential millionaire and arranged to give him three or four -months' vacation back home, I had a notion he'd present to you a very -valid reason why you should accompany him." - -"You are very frank, Caliph." - -"That's because I'm curious. You do not mind being equally frank with -an old cuss like me, do you, and telling me just why Bill's plans -miscarried? Because he had a certain dream, and told me about it, and I -did my little best to make it come true. You see, Miss Ruey, I'm a lot -older than Bill, and I've known him since he was eighteen years old; I -feel a responsibility toward him that is almost paternal." - -"I think I understand, Caliph. It would be very difficult, I think, for -anybody to meet Billy without being attracted toward him. He's one of -the dearest, most lovable boys in the world--and he did do me the signal -honour of asking me to marry him. So there!" - -"Well, and why didn't you?" - -She smiled at his blunt insistence on forcing the issue. "For a number -of excellent reasons, Caliph. In the first place, he wanted me to marry -him immediately--and I wasn't ready to leave Sobrante, while Billy was. -Indeed, it was highly necessary that he should leave immediately, for -the sake of his health, and I had Billy's interest at heart sufficiently -to insist upon it. You seem to forget that when a girl marries she must -make some preparation for the event, and if she has any close relatives, -such as a brother, for instance, she likes to have that relative present -at the ceremony. You will recall, Caliph, that I have a brother and that -you have promised to introduce me to him very shortly. Much as you -love Billy, would you insist upon depriving me of the joy of meeting -my brother on the day of his triumph--on the day of the triumph of our -family--just to please Billy by marrying him on ten minutes' notice, -and leaving on a honeymoon next day? That is what you would refer to as -crowding my hand and joggling my elbow." - -"By Judas, I never thought of that, Miss Ruey," the repentant Webster -answered. "In fact, I wasn't thinking of anybody's interest in this -matter but Bill's." - -"Not even of mine, Caliph?" reproachfully. - -"That goes without saying. Could I have done anything nicer for you than -fix it for Bill so he would be in position to marry you? Here you are, -practically alone in the world--at least you were when Bill met you -and fell in love with you--and I know that boy so well I was convinced, -after meeting you, that his future happiness and yours would best be -conserved if you married him. I hope you do not think I was presumptuous -in thinking this, or that I am presumptuous now in speaking my mind so -frankly. I realize this is a most unusual conversation----" - -"Quite to be expected of an unusual man, Caliph. And I do not think you -were one bit presumptuous. It was wonderfully dear of you, and I am -profoundly grateful that Billy and I have such a true, unselfish friend, -whose first thought is for our happiness. I knew I was going to like you -before Billy introduced us--and I think more of you than ever, now that -I know you're a dear, blundering old matchmaker. Of course you realize -how badly I felt to think I couldn't accede to Billy's plan. Billy's -such a dear, it quite broke my heart to disappoint him, but a little -temporary unhappiness will not ruin Billy, will it? It makes me feel -blue to talk about it, Caliph." - -"Not at all, not at all, Miss Ruey. Bill is one of the impulsive, -whirlwind kind, up in the clouds today and down in the slough of despond -to-morrow. He'll survive the shock. Of course, it would have been pretty -nice if your affairs had permitted you to accompany Bill; I never had -a honeymoon myself, but it must be a great institution, and I was -all wrapped up in the notion of seeing Bill have what I'd never had -myself--a honeymoon and a wife and kids and money enough to enjoy -'em all the way that God intended a real man and woman to enjoy them. -However, I'm glad to know everything will come out all right. Seeing you -here gave me a momentary chill; thought a cog had slipped somewhere, so -I helped myself to Cupid's license and asked. A man cannot learn very -much from a woman unless he asks questions, can he? I mean on the -subject of love." - -She smiled a little, wistful, knowing smile. "No, Caliph," she answered -seriously, "somehow the Master of Things ordained that on the subject of -love man must do all the talking." - -"Yes, but on the other hand, woman has the last word--as usual. However, -the only thing in your case and Billy's that worries me is the thought -that since Bill left his magnet behind he will be drawn back here before -he is in the kind of shape, physically, that I want him to be in before -he relieves me on the job so I can go away." - -"Do not worry on that point, Caliph. I am your ally there; between us -both I think we can manage him." - -"Fine business! Miss Ruey, if that boy Bill ever gets a notion in his -head that you haven't forgotten more than he'll ever know, I'll break -his neck. And with those few kind words we'll dismiss William until you -care to talk about him again, although if you're as deep in love as Bill -you'll not stay off the subject very long." - -"How is Don Juan Cafetro, Caliph?" - -"Coming out in the wash and without his colours running. I've sweated -the booze out of him, hiking him over the hills, and bullied him into -eating solids, and a few days ago I shut off the firewater forever, -I hope. However, I'll have to watch him very closely for a long -time yet--particularly in town. Out at the mine he'll be away from -temptation. Hard work is the best cure for Don Juan. There's a deal of -truth in the old saying that Satan will find mischief for idle hands to -do. I imagine you've been rather idle lately. Hope you haven't been into -mischief." - -"I haven't been idle. I've made several dresses for Mother Jenks and -done a lot of fancy work and begun the study of my mother tongue. If my -brother should become president of this country, it would ill become his -sister not be able to speak Spanish. By the way, Billy told me you were -going to remain up in the hills quite a while yet. What brought you back -to town so soon?" - -"Expected I'd have some freight arriving shortly: besides, I wanted to -make certain the title to Bill's property didn't have any flaws in it." - -"How long will you remain in Buenaventura?" Considering the fact that he -was no longer subject to temptation, since the object of his temptation -was now definitely promised to his friend Billy, Webster suddenly -decided to remain until the political atmosphere should be cleared, -although prior to his conversation with Dolores he had cherished a -definite plan to go back to the hills within forty-eight hours. He -could not suppress an ironic grin, despite the pain and misery of his -predicament, as he reflected how often, of late, he had made up his mind -to a definite course of action, only to change it promptly at some new -whim of fate. - -"I'm going back," he replied soberly, "after I have kept my promise and -introduced you to your brother in the government palace. If I cannot -introduce him to you there, the title to our mining concession will be -clouded, in which event it will not be necessary for Billy or myself to -fuss with it further." - -He related to her the information gleaned from her brother two days -previously. - -"It's no use for an individual to fight a government despot in courts -controlled by the latter," he concluded. "Your brother must win and -depose the Sarros; then with the title to the property certified by the -government as without a flaw, I may dare to spend fifty thousand dollars -developing it." - -"And if my brother doesn't win?" - -"I may never have an opportunity to present you to him. We mustn't be -squeamish about this matter, Miss Ruey. If Ricardo doesn't turn the -trick, he may go the way of his father, unless he can manage to get out -of the country." - -She was silent a minute, digesting this grim alternative. "And you?" she -queried presently. "What will happen to you? As I understand it, you are -existing now under a temporary license." - -"I shall endeavour to leave also--with dignity. I can always land a -pretty good job back home, and wherever I'm superintendent the next best -job belongs to Billy. The Lord is our shepherd; we shall not want." - -"As I understand it, then, Caliph, Ricardo hopes to win his revolution -when he strikes the first blow." - -"I think so. I dare say Ricardo hopes to take Sarros by surprise, bottle -the city garrison up in the _cuartel_ and the government palace and -there besiege them. Having secured nominal control of a seaport, he -can import arms and ammunition; also he can recruit openly, and at -his leisure hunt down the outlying garrisons. The Sarros crowd doesn't -suspect his presence in Sobrante, and by a quick, savage stroke he -should be able to jerk this one-horse government up by the heels in jig -time--particularly since the citizenry feel no loyalty toward the -Sarros rgime and are only kept in subjection through fear and lack of -a leader. I'm going to play Ricardo to win, if he isn't killed in the -opening row, for I'm certain he'll lead his men." - -"I dare say he is greatly like his father--not afraid to die for his -country," she replied presently. "I am glad to be here when he takes -that risk." - -"Oh, but you mustn't be here," Webster protested. - -"Why?" - -"Because there'll be street fighting--probably of a desperate character, -and I understand your countrymen go rather war-mad and do things not -sanctioned by the Hague tribunal. If there's a steamer in port at the -time I'll put you aboard her until the issue is decided. She'll have -to remain in port because while the fighting goes on she cannot load or -discharge." - -"I could go to the American consulate," she suggested. - -"You could--but you'll not. That consul would give you up to the first -mob that called for you--and I'm not so certain that even the sister of -an archtraitor (for patriots and revolutionists are always traitors when -they lose) would be safe from the Sarros fury. However, I'm going to see -Ricardo tomorrow night and learn the details of his plan of campaign; -after that I'll be able to act intelligently." - - - - -CHAPTER XXII - -|RICARDO RUBY, with Doctor Pacheco and Colonel Caraveo, were engaged -in consultation when Jack Webster, having left the Hotel Mateo via his -bedroom window in order to avoid possible espionage and made his way -to El Buen Amigo on foot, was announced by Mother Jenks. The three -conspirators greeted him joyously, as indeed they should, for his loyal -friendship had thus far been one of their principal bulwarks. - -"Well," Webster inquired, after greeting them and carefully closing the -door behind him, "here I am in Beunaventura, marking time and, like Mr. -Micawber, waiting for something to turn up." - -"You will not be required to wait long," Colonel Caraveo assured him. -"Thanks to your kindly offices, the trap is already baited." - -"Our friend Ruey has, since our first meeting, insisted on dispensing -with my consent when using me to promote his enterprises, Colonel. -Strange to say, I have been unable to berate him for his impudence. -I was down at Leber's warehouse this afternoon. You have enough -road-making tools consigned to me there to build a pretty fair highway -to the gates of the government palace, I should say. I hope you have all -pondered the result to me, an innocent bystander, if your enemies should -take a notion to open one of those cases of shovels." - -Colonel Caraveo favoured him with a benignant smile. "You forget, my -friend, that I am second in command in the Intelligence Department, and -that, during the absence of your particular friend Raoul Sarros, in New -Orleans, I am first in command. Since I already know what those cases -contain, naturally I shall not take the trouble to investigate." - -"Well, that's a comfort, Colonel." - -"You have investigated your mining concession, Webster?" Ricardo Ruey -asked. - -"You bet." - -"What did you find?" - -"A couple of millions in sight." - -Ricardo shook his head slowly. "It is not in sight, old man," he -reminded Webster. "Without our aid--and you cannot have our aid unless -our revolution is successful, when you shall have it freely--your -millions are, most positively, not in sight. If you want those millions, -friend Webster, there is but one way to get them--and that is to close -your eyes and play our game to the limit." - -"It seems to me I've been showing a pretty willing spirit right -along--and that without being consulted in the matter, Rick:" - -"You're one man in a million. I wonder if you'd go further--about forty -thousand dollars further, to be exact." - -"I might, but I never go it blind for a wad like that. What's your -trouble?" - -"The revolution will fail if you decide to deny my request. I realize I -have the most amazing presumption to ask anything of you, and yet I -am moved to stake my all on your goodness of heart, having already had -ample evidence of that goodness. In other words, I am going to apply the -old principle of driving a willing horse to death. - -"The individual in charge of the funds of the revolutionary junta in New -Orleans was murdered last night; the funds were deposited to his credit -as agent in a certain bank, and before the junta can obtain legal -possession of them again the psychological time for their use will have -passed. - -"We have a steamer chartered, and two hundred men, whose business it is -to fight under any flag at five dollars gold per day and no questions -asked, are now marking time on the Isle of Pines, off the coast of -Cuba, waiting for our steamer to call for them and land them, with their -rifles and ammunition and six seventy-five-millimeter field-guns and -some rapid-fire Maxims, at San Bruno, some eighteen miles up the coast -from here. - -"The guns and munitions are now in Tampa, having been shipped to our -agent there on sight draft, with bill of lading attached; the steamer is -chartered and en route to Tampa from Norfolk, Virginia, and we must pay -the owners ten thousand dollars the day she begins taking on her cargo, -and ten thousand dollars before she unloads it on lighters at San Bruno. - -"We must also pay two hundred men one month's pay in advance--that is, -thirty thousand dollars; we cannot meet this expense and still take up -that sight draft now awaiting our attention in the bank at Tampa. - -"In return for this favour to the provisional government of Sobrante, -you shall have the note of the provisional government, signed by the -provisional president, myself, and the provisional cabinet, Doctor -Pachecho, Colonel Caraveo, and two other gentlemen whom you will meet in -due course unless in the interim they should be killed. And as a bonus -for saving this country from a brutal dictator, who is pillaging its -resources for his personal profit, you shall have a deed of gift to that -mining concession you and your friend Geary are so desirous of working; -also the title shall be certified by the government and the Supreme -Court of Sobrante and absolutely secured to you against future -aggression in the event that the new rgime should be overthrown at some -future date. Also you have my profound gratitude and that of my people." - -"Tell me your plan of campaign," Webster suggested. - -"In a secret rendezvous in the mountains I have one thousand picked -men--my father's veterans. They are armed with modern rifles and -machetes. The nitrate company, which has been suffering from heavy -export duties imposed by Sarros, would help us financially, I think, but -it is not well for a provisional government to begin by asking financial -favours of a huge foreign corporation; so, much to the surprise of their -local manager, to whom I have confided my plans, I have merely asked for -the loan of all the rolling stock of the railroad for one night. It will -be mobilized at San Miguel de Padua by next Saturday night; my troops -will arrive late the same afternoon and entrain at once. - -"In the interim all telephone and telegraph communications with -Buenaventura will be severed. The night previous our steamer will have -discharged her cargo of men and munitions at San Bruno; a chain of -outposts will at once be established and all communication with the -capital will be shut off. - -"On Saturday night, also, the Consolidated Fruit Company's steamer _La -Estrellita_ will make port with thirty Americans in her steerage. These -men will be road-makers and miners imported by Mr. J. S. Webster, and in -order to make certain that they will come, you have already ordered them -by cable. I took the liberty of seeing to it that the cable signed by -you was sent to New Orleans several days ago, and as part of the bluff -of keeping all of your movements under surveillance, a copy of this -cablegram was furnished to the subordinate of our good Colonel Caraveo, -charged with reporting on your movements. We have arranged with the port -doctor to give _La Estrellita_ a clean bill of health the very night she -arrives. Hence the ship's authorities will not be suspicious, I hope, -when we remove our men after dark and house them in Leber's warehouse, -where they will spend the night unpacking those spades, picks, and -shovels of yours and getting the factory grease off them. - -"At four o'clock in the morning various citizens of Sobrante, with -rebellion in their hearts, will begin to mobilize at Leber's warehouse, -where they will be issued rifles and ammunition and where they will -wait until the action is opened to the south by the detachment from San -Bruno, which, having marched from San Bruno the night before, will have -arrived outside, the city, and will be awaiting the signal from me. I -will attack from the west--cautiously. - -"Now, there are five thousand government troops in the city and in -various cantonments on the outskirts. These cantonments are to be rushed -and set afire; I figure that the confusion of our sudden attack will -create a riot--particularly when I do something that isn't very popular -as a war feature down this way, and that is charge--and keep on coming. -Down this way, you know, Webster, a battle consists in a horrible -wastage of ammunition at long range, and casualties of three killed and -twelve wounded. The good, old-fashioned charge isn't to their liking; -they hate cold steel. - -"These government troops will start to fall back on the city, only to -find themselves flanked by a fierce artillery fire from the San Bruno -contingent; the troops from the arsenal, the Guards at the palace and -the Fifteenth Regiment of Infantry, now stationed at the Cuartel de -Infanteria, next the government palace, will be dispatched post haste to -repulse the attack, and four hundred men, with the machine-gun company -waiting in Leber's warehouse, will promptly move upon them from the rear -and capture the arsenal. There are a few thousand rifles and a lot of -ammunition stored there; I miss my guess if, as soon as the news of its -capture by the rebels spreads through the city (and I shall have men to -spread it), I shall not have a few thousand volunteers eager to help -overthrow Sarros. - -"When the government troops find themselves under the kind of shell-fire -I've prepared for them, and with machine guns and Maxims playing on -them, in close formation from the rear, they'll surrender in droves--if -they live to surrender. - -"Once cut off from the arsenal and the palace, Sarros must fight his way -out of the city in order to have the slightest chance to suppress the -rebellion, for he will have no refuge in the city. And with the railroad -and all the rolling stock in our hands, without a commissary for his -troops, without a base of supplies, even should the government troops -fight their way through, they leave the city in my hands and I'll -recruit and arm my men and hunt them down like jack-rabbits at my -leisure. Once let the arsenal and the palace fall into my hands, once -let me proclaim myself provisional president, once let the people know -that Ricardo Ruey, the Beloved, lives again in the person of his son, -and I tell you, Webster, this country is saved." - -"You lead the army from San Miguel de Padua, Ricardo. Who leads the -detachment from San Bruno?" - -"Colonel Caraveo." - -"And the machine-gun company from Leber's warehouse?" - -"Doctor Pacheco. How do you like my plan of campaign?" - -"It couldn't be any better if I had planned it myself. You might accept -my suggestion and armour that little motor truck of mine. It arrived on -yesterday's steamer." - -"And some armour sheet steel with it--sheet steel already loopholed for -the barrels of the two machine guns it will carry!" Doctor Pacheco cried -joyously. - -"Have you provided a chauffeur, Doctor?" - -"I have--likewise an armoured sheet-steel closet for him to sit in while -chauffeuring." - -"Don't forget the oil and gasoline," Webster cautioned him quizzically. - -"How about that loan to the provisional government?" Ricardo demanded -pointedly. - -Webster did not hesitate. After all, what was money to him now? -Moreover, he was between the devil and the deep sea, as it were. Billy -had gone away, his hopes raised high, already a millionaire after the -fashion of mining men, who are ever ready to count their chicks before -they are hatched, provided only they see the eggs. Besides, there was -Dolores. Full well Webster realized that Billy, tossed back once more -into the jaws of the well-known wolf of poverty, would not have the -courage upon his return to Sobrante to ask Dolores to share his poverty -with him; should the revolution fail, Ricardo Ruey would be an outcast, -a hunted man with a price on his head, and in no position to care for -his sister, even should he survive long enough to know he had a sister. -Webster thought of her--so sweet, so winsome, so brave and trusting, -so worthy of all that the world might hold for her of sweetness and -comfort. She would be alone in the world if he, John Stuart Webster, -failed her now--more than ever she needed a man's strength and affection -to help her navigate the tide-rips of life, for life to a woman, alone -and unprotected and dependent upon her labour for the bread she must -eat, must contain, at best, a full measure of terror and despair and -loneliness. He pictured her through a grim processional of years of -skimping and petty sacrifices--and all because he, John Stuart Webster, -had hesitated to lend a dreamer and an idealist a paltry forty thousand -dollars without security. - -No, there was no alternative. As they say in Mexico, Ricardo had him -_tiron_, meaning there was no escape. If his friendship for Billy -was worth a sou, it was worth forty thousand dollars; if his silent, -unrequited love for Dolores Ruey was worthy of her, no sacrifice on his -part could be too great, provided it guaranteed her happiness. - -"Ruined again," he sighed. "This is only another of those numerous -occasions when the tail goes with the hide. How soon do you want the -money?" - -Ricardo Luiz Ruey leaned forward and gazed very earnestly at John Stuart -Webster. "Do you really trust me that much, my friend?" he asked -feelingly. "Remember, I am asking you for forty thousand dollars on -faith." - -"Old sport," John Stuart Webster answered, "you went overboard in -Buenaventura harbour and took a chance among those big, liver-coloured, -hammerheaded sharks. And you did that because you had a cause you -thought worth dying for. I never knew a man who had a cause that was -worth dying for who would even espouse a cause worth swindling for. You -win--only I want you to understand one thing, Ricardo: I'm not doing -this for the sake of saving that mining concession the Sarros government -gave my friend Geary. I'm above doing a thing like this for money--for -myself. It seems to me I must do it to guarantee the happiness of two -people I love: my friend Geary and the girl he's going to marry. I -reject your promissory note and your promise of a deed of gift for that -concession, and accept only your gratitude. There are no strings to this -loan, because it isn't a loan at all. It's a bet. If you lose, I'll help -you get out of the country and absolve you of any indebtedness to me. -We'll just make a new book and start making bets all over again, Rick. -However, if you should win, I know you'll reimburse me from the national -treasury." - -"And you do not desire a bonus?" - -"Nothing that will cost the citizens of this country one penny of their -heritage. I'm going to bet this money--bet it, understand, not loan it, -because a loan predicates repayment at some future date, and for the -sake of my self-respect as a business man I'd hate to make a bum loan -of that magnitude on no security. However, if you want to be a sport and -grant me a little favour in return, you can." - -"Name it, friend." - -"As soon as you have been recognized by the United States, I want you to -have your ambassador in Washington make representations to my government -that the present American consul in Sobrante is not acceptable to your -government. That fellow is a disgrace to my native land and I want him -fired." - -"It shall be my first official act after freeing my country from a -tyrant's yoke." - -"Another little favour also, Ricardo." This time Webster spoke in -English. - -"Eire away." - -"After I give you this money, I don't want the Doctor and the Colonel to -kiss me to show how grateful they are." - -"You wonderful fellow! Jack Webster, if I had a sister I should want her -to marry you." - -"Shows how little you'd think of your sister--staking her to a -sentimental jackass. Shall I cable the money to New Orleans in the -morning? I have a letter of credit for my entire bank-roll, and I can -give a draft at the Banco Nacional, and have them cable a New Orleans -bank." - -"That will do very nicely." - -"To whom shall I cable the money?" - -"Send it to the Picayune National Bank of New Orleans, with instructions -to credit account Number 246, J. E. P., trustee. In this little game -we are playing, my friend, it is safer to deal in numbers and initials -rather than names. The local cable office leaks quite regularly." - -"Very well, Ricardo, I'll attend to it first thing in the morning. Where -are you going to armour that motor truck?" - -"If you'll have it run over to the nitrate company's machine shop at the -railway terminus the foreman there will attend to the job and keep -the truck under cover until Friday night, when they'll run it back to -Leber's warehouse for the machine guns Sunday morning." - -"Is Leber in on this deal?" - -"He is not. What Leber doesn't know will not worry him. He doesn't live -in his warehouse, you know. We're just going to take possession after -dark, when the water-front is absolutely deserted. There's a concert on -the Malecon that night, and everybody who can ride or walk will be out -there listening to it." - -Webster nodded his approval of Ricardo's clever plans. "All right, old -man, go to it and win, or there'll be several new faces whining around -the devil, not the least of which will be mine. When you charge, -remember you're charging for my forty thousand dollars--and go through -with it. I worked rather hard for that forty thousand, and if I must -lose it, I do not want to do it in a half-hearted fight. Give me, at -least, a bloody run for my money. I'll have a reserved seat somewhere -watching the game." - -"If you'll take my advice, you'll go aboard _La Estrellita_ and stay -there until the issue is decided. When the first gun is fired, it -signals the open season on mining engineers who butt in on affairs of -state." - -"What! And me with a healthy bet down on the result! I hope I'm a better -sport than that." - -"You're incorrigible. Be careful, then, and don't get yourself potted by -a stray bullet. When these brownies of mine get excited, they shoot at -every head in sight." - -"Shall I see you fellows before the blow-off?" - -"I scarcely think so." - -"Then if you're through with me, I'll bid you all good-bye and good -luck. I'll have dinner with you in the palace Sunday evening." - -"Taken." - -"May I bring a guest?" - -"By all means." - -Webster shook hands with the trio and departed for his hotel. For the -first time in many years he was heavy of heart, crushed. "Neddy Jerome -was right," he soliloquized. "This is the last place on earth for me to -have come to. I've made Neddy sore on me, and he's lost patience and -put another man in the job he promised me; I've raised Billy's hopes -sky-high and had to bet forty thousand dollars to keep them there; I've -been fool enough to fall in love with my friend's fiance; I'm a human -cat's-paw, and the finest thing I can do now is to go out next Sunday -morning with that machine-gun company from Leber's warehouse and get -killed. And I would, too, in a holy second, if killing a dozen of these -spiggoties were part of a mining engineer's business. I just don't -belong in this quarrel and I cannot kill for pleasure or profit. All I -get out of this deal is gratitude and empty honour, where I dreamed of -love and a home in my old age. John Stuart Webster, the family friend! -Well, after all, it isn't every old sour-dough that has an opportunity -to be a liberator, and even if I have lost Dolores, I have this -melancholy satisfaction: I have a rattling good chance of getting that -scrubby American consul." - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII - - -|THE following morning Webster informed Dolores fully of his interview -with her brother and his confrres the night before, concealing from her -only the fact that he was financing the revolution and his reasons for -financing it. He was still depressed, and Dolores, observing his mood, -forbore to intrude upon it. Intuitively she realized that when a man -is worried and harassed by matters he cannot or dares hot divulge, he -dislikes being talked to, but prefers to be alone and wrestle with them -in silence. Accordingly she claimed the prerogative of her sex--a slight -headache--and retreated to her room, In the privacy of which she was -suddenly very much surprised to find herself weeping softly because John -Stuart Webster was unhappy and didn't deserve to be. - -It was impossible, however, for Webster long to remain impervious to the -note of ridiculousness underlying the forthcoming tragic events. Here -was a little two-by-four poverty-stricken hot-bed of ignorance and -intrigue calling itself a republic, a little stretch of country no -larger than a couple of big western counties, about to indulge in the -national pastime of civil war and unable to do it except by grace of an -humble citizen of a sister republic! - -Five thousand ignorant, ill-equipped, ill-drilled semi-brigands calling -themselves soldiers, entrusted with the task of enabling one of their -number to ride, horse and dog, over a million people! - -How farcical! No wonder Ricardo, with his northern viewpoint, approached -his patriotic task with gayety, almost with contempt. And when Webster -recalled that the about-to-be-born provisional government had casually -borrowed from him the sum of forty thousand dollars in order to turn -the trick--borrowing it, forsooth, in much the same spirit as a commuter -boarding his train without the necessary fare hails a neighbour and -borrows ten cents--his natural optimism asserted itself and he chuckled -as in fancy he heard himself telling the story to Neddy Jerome and being -branded a liar for his pains. - -"Well, I've had one comfort ever since I first saw that girl," he -reflected philosophically. "While I've never been so unhappy in all my -life before, or had to tear my soul out by the roots so often, things -have been coming my way so fast from other directions that I haven't -had much opportunity to dwell on the matter. And for these compensating -offsets, good Lord, I thank thee." - -He was John Stuart Webster again when Dolores saw him next; during the -succeeding days his mood of cheerfulness and devil-may-care indifference -never left him. And throughout that period of marking time Dolores was -much in his society, a condition which he told himself was not to his -liking but which, nevertheless, he could not obviate without seeming -indifferent to her happiness. And to permit his friend's fiancee to -languish in loneliness and heart-break did not appear to John Stuart -Webster as the part of a true friend or a courtly gentleman--and he -remembered that she had once called him that. - -They rode together in the cool of the morning; they drove together on -the Malecon in the cool of the evening; chaperoned by Don Juan Cafetro -and a grinning Sobrantean, they went shark-fishing in Leber's launch; -they played dominoes together; they discussed, throughout the long, -lazy, quiet afternoons, when the remainder of their world retired for -the siesta, books, art, men, women, and things. - -And not once, throughout those two weeks of camaraderie, did the -heart-racked Webster forget for a single instant that he was the new -friend, destined to become the old friend; never, to the girl's watchful -eyes, did he betray the slightest disposition to establish their -friendly relations on a closer basis. - -Thus did the arrival of The Day find them. Toward sunset they rode out -together along the bay shore and noted far out to sea the smear of smoke -that marked the approach of La Estrellita--on schedule time. As they -jogged homeward in the dusk, her red and green side-lights were visible -as she crept into the harbour; above the sobbing murmur of the Caribbean -wavelets they heard the scream of her winches and the rattle of chain as -her anchor bit the bottom. - -"You will go aboard her to-night," Webster said very quietly to Dolores. - -"And you?" - -"I shall go aboard with you. I have arranged with Don Juan for him to -stay ashore and to come out in Leber's launch with the first reliable -news of the conflict. If Ricardo wins the city, he wins the revolution, -and you and I will then go ashore--to dine with him in the palace. If -he loses the city, he loses the revolution, and we will both do well to -remain aboard _La Estrellita_." - -"And in that event, what will become of my brother?" - -"I do not know; I forgot to ask him, but if he survives, I imagine he'll -have sense enough to know he's whipped and will retreat on San Bruno, -fighting a rear-guard action, embark aboard the steamer that brought his -men there, and escape." - -"But he has so few men," she quavered. - -"Two hundred of them are white soldiers of fortune--and you must -remember how Walker manhandled Nicaragua with that number of men." - -"I'm worried about Mother Jenks." - -"I have asked Mother Jenks to dine with us at seven-thirty this evening, -and have ordered a carriage to call for her. When she comes I'll tell -her everything; then, if she wishes to stay ashore, let her. She's been -through more than one such fracas and doesn't mind them at all, I dare -say." - -And in this Webster was right. Mother Jenks listened in profound -silence, nodding her approval, as Webster related to her the story of -the advent in the country of Ricardo Ruey and his plans, but without -revealing the identity of Andrew Bowers. - -At the conclusion of his recital the old publican merely said: "Gor' -bli' me!" - -After a silence she added: "My sainted 'Enery used to s'y the proper -hodds for a white man in a bally row o' this nature was forty to one. -'The spiggoty,' says 'e, shoots from 'is 'ip, but the wisitin' brother's -spent 'is 'prenticeship at the butts some-w'ere or other an' 'as -bloomin' well learned to sight an' 'old his breath 'arf in an' 'arf out -when 'e pulls. Gor', but how my sainted 'Enery would henjoy bein' 'ere -this night to 'elp with the guns." She sighed. - -"How about a little bottle of wine to drink peace to your sainted Henry -and luck to The Cause?" Webster suggested. - -"That's wot I calls talkin'," Mother Jenks responded promptly, and -Webster, gazing reflectively at the old lady's beard, wondered why she -had not been born a man. - -Dolores, fearful for her benefactor's safety, urged Mother Jenks to -accompany them out aboard _La Estrellita_, but the old dame indignantly -refused, and when pressed for a reason gave it with the utmost -frankness: "They'll be tykin' Sarros, an' when they tyke 'im they'll -back him ag'in the same wall he backed my sainted 'Enery and your father -against, my dear. I've a notion that your father's son 'll let Mrs. -Colonel 'Enery Jenks come to the party." - -At ten o'clock Webster accompanied Mother Jenks home in the carriage, -which he dismissed at El Buen Amigo--with instructions to return to the -hotel while he continued afoot down the Calle San Rosario to the -bay, where Leber's huge corrugated-iron warehouse loomed darkly above -high-water mark. If there was light within, it was not visible, but -Webster, pausing and listening at one corner of the great structure, -could hear the confused murmur of many voices, with an occasional hearty -oath in English rising above the murmur. - -He slipped along in the deep shadow of the warehouse wall and out on the -end of the little dock, where he satisfied himself that Leber's launch -was at its moorings; then he went back to the warehouse and whistled -softly, whereupon a man crawled out from under the structure and -approached him. It was Don Juan Cafetro. - -"They're all inside," he whispered and laid finger on lip. "A lad came -down at eight o'clock, took Leber's launch an' wint out to the steamer -afther thim. They got in half an hour ago, an' divil a sowl the wiser -save meself." - -"Thank you, John. Now that I know the coast is clear and the launch -ready, I'll go back to the hotel for Miss Ruey." - -"Very well, sor," Don Juan replied, and crawled back under the -warehouse. - -Half an hour later the sound of hoofbeats warned him of the approach -of Webster and Dolores in a carriage, and he came forth, loaded in the -launch such baggage as they had been enabled to bring, and held the -gunwale of the boat while his passengers stepped aboard. - -While Don Juan cast off the painter, Webster primed the motor and turned -it over; with a snort it started, and under Webster's guidance the -launch backed swiftly out into the bay, where Don Juan lighted the -side-lights and riding-light, and loafed off into the darkness. - -About a half a mile off shore Webster throttled down the motor until -the launch barely made steerage way. "It would never do to go aboard the -steamer _before_ the fracas started ashore," he explained to Dolores. -"That would indicate a guilty knowledge of coming events, and in the -event of disaster to the rebel arms it is just possible Senor Sarros -might have pull enough, if he hears of our flight six hours in advance -of hostilities, to take us off the steamer and ask us to explain. So -we'll just cruise slowly around and listen; the attack will come just -before dawn; then shortly thereafter we can scurry out to the steamer -and be welcomed aboard for the sake of the news we bring." - -She did not answer, and Webster knew her thoughts were out where the -arc-lights on the outskirts of Buenaventura met the open country--out -where the brother she could scarcely remember and whom, until a month -previous, she had believed dead, would shortly muster his not too -numerous followers. - -In the darkness Webster could hear the click of her beads as she prayed; -on the turtle deck forward. - -Don Juan Cafetro sprawled, thinking perchance of his unlovely past and -wondering what effect the events shortly to transpire ashore would have -on his future. He wished Webster would relent and offer him a drink some -time within the next twenty-four hours. In times of excitement like the -present a man needs a drop to brace him up. - -Five times the launch slipped lazily down the harbour along the -straggling two mile water-front; five times it loafed back. The moon, -which was in the first quarter, sank. For the hundredth time Don Juan -Cafetro chanted dolorously "The Death of Sarsfield" and the tuneful -glories of the late O'Donnel Abu--and then to Webster's alert ear there -floated across the still waters the sound of a gentle purring--the music -of an auto-truck. He set the launch in toward Leber's little dock, and -presently they saw the door of Leber's warehouse open. Men with lanterns -streamed forth, lighting the way for others who bore between them heavy -burdens. - -"They're emplacing the machine guns in the motor-truck," he whispered to -Dolores. "We will not have to wait long now. It's nearly four o'clock." - -Again they backed out into the bay until they could see far out over the -sleeping city to the hills beyond in the west. Presently along the side -of those hills the headlight of a locomotive crept, dropping swiftly -down grade until it disappeared in the lowlands. - -A half-hour passed; then to the south of the city a rocket flared -skyward; almost instantly another flared from the west, followed -presently by a murmur, scarcely audible, as of a muffled snare -drum, punctuated presently by a louder, sharper, insistent -_puck-puch-puch-puch_ that, had Webster but known it, was the bark of -a Maxim-Vickers rapid-fire gun throwing a stream of shells into the -cantonments of the government troops on the fringe of the city. - -Webster's pulse quickened. He was possessed of that feeling which -actuates a small boy to follow the fire-engines. "There goes the -'tillery to the south, sor," Don Juan called, and even as he spoke, a -shell burst gloriously over the government palace, the white walls of -which were already looming over the remainder of the city, now faintly -visible in the approaching dawn. - -"That was to awaken our friend Sarros," Webster cried. "I'll bet a -buffalo nickel that woke the old horsethief up. There's another--and -another." The uproar swelled, the noise gradually drifting around the -city from west to south, forming, seemingly, a semicircle of sound. "The -government troops are up and doing now," Webster observed, and speeded -up his motor. "I think it high time we played the part of frightened -refugees. When that machine-gun company with its infantry escort starts -up through the city from Leber's warehouse it may encounter early -opposition--and I've heard that Mauser bullets kill at three miles. Some -strays may drop out here in the bay." - -He speeded the launch toward _La Estrellita_, and as the craft scraped -in alongside the great steamer's companion landing, her skipper ran -down the ladder to greet them and inquire eagerly of the trend of events -ashore. - -"We left in a hurry the instant it started," Webster explained. "As -Americans, we didn't figure we had any interest in that scrap, either -way." He handed Dolores out on the landing stage, tossed their baggage -after her and followed; Don Juan took the wheel, and the launch slid out -and left them there. - -At the head of the companion ladder Webster paused and turned for -another look at Buenaventura. To the west three great fires now threw -a lurid light skyward, mocking an equally lurid light to the east, that -marked the approach of daylight. He smiled. "Those are the cantonment -barracks burning," he whispered to Dolores. "Ricardo is keeping his -word. He's driving the rats back into their own holes." - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV - -|THE weeks of clean living, of abstention from his wonted daily -alcoholic ration, had inspired in Don Juan Cafetro a revival of his all -but defunct interest in life; conversely, in these stirring times, he -was sensible of an equally acute interest in Sobrantean politics, for he -was Irish; and flabby indeed is that son of the Green Little Isle who, -wherever he may be, declines to take a hand in any public argument. For -the love of politics, like the love of home, is never dead in the -Irish. It is instinct with them--the heritage, perhaps, of centuries -of oppression and suppression, which nurtures rather than stifles the -yearning for place and power. Now as Don Juan turned Leber's launch -shoreward and kicked the motor wide open, he, too, descried against the -dawn the glare of the burning cantonments west of the city, and at the -sight his pulse beat high with the lust of battle, the longing to be in -at the death in this struggle, where the hopes and aspirations of those -he loved were at stake. - -Two months previously a revolution would have been a matter of extreme -indifference to Don Juan; he would have reflected that it was merely the -outs trying to get in, and that if they succeeded, the sole benefit to -the general public would be the privilege of paying the bill. It was all -very well, perhaps, to appoint a new _jefe politico_, if only for the -sake of diversion, but new or old they "jugged" or booted Don Juan -Cafetro impartially from time to time; the lowliest peon could shoulder -the derelict off the narrow sidewalks, while the policeman on the beat -looked on and grinned. Consequently, drunk or sober, Don Juan would not -have fought with or for a Sobrantean, since he knew from experience -that either line of activity was certain to prove unprofitable. To-day, -however, in the knowledge that he had an opportunity to fight beside -white men and perchance even up some old scores with the _Guardia -Civil_, it occurred suddenly to Don Juan that it would be a brave -and virtuous act to cast his lot with the Ruey forces. He was a -being reorganized and rebuilt, and it behooved him to do something to -demonstrate his manhood. - -Don Juan knew, of course, that should the rebels lose and he be -captured, he would be executed; yet this contingency seemed a -far-fetched one, in view of the fact that he had John Stuart Webster at -his back, ready to finance his escape from the city. Also Don Juan -had had an opportunity, in the hills above San Miguel de Padua, for a -critical study of Ricardo Ruey and had come to the conclusion that at -last a real man had come to liberate Sobrante; further, Don Juan had -had ocular evidence that John Stuart Webster was connected with the -revolution, for had he not smuggled Ruey into the country? It was -something to be the right-hand man of the president of a rich little -country like Sobrante; it was also something to be as close to that -right-hand man as Don Juan was to his master, Webster; consequently -self-interest and his sporting code whispered to Don Juan that it -behooved him to demonstrate his loyalty with every means at his command, -even unto his heart's blood. - -"Who knows," he cogitated as the launch bore him swiftly shoreward, "but -what I'll acquit meself with honour and get a fine job undher the new -administhration? 'Tis the masther's fight, I'm thinkin'; then, be the -same token, 'tis John Joseph Cafferty's, win, lose or dhraw; an' may -the divil damn me if I fail him afther what he's done for me. Sure, if -Gineral Ruey wins, a crook av the masther's finger will make me _jefe -'politico_. An' if he does--hoo-roo! Hoo-ray!" - -With his imagination still running riot, Don Juan made the launch fast -to the little dock, down which, he ran straight for the warehouse, -where the Ruey mercenaries were still congregated, busily wiping the -factory-grease from the weapons which had just been distributed to them -from the packing-cases. A sharp voice halted him, he paused, panting, to -find himself looking down the long blue barrel of a service pistol. - -"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" the man behind the weapon -demanded brusquely. - -"I'm Private John J. Cafferty, the latest recruit to the Ruey army," Don -Juan answered composedly. "Who did ye think I was? Private secreth'ry to -that divil Sarros? Man, dear, lower that gun av yours, for God knows -I'm nervous enough as it is. Have ye somethin' ye could give me to fight -wit,' avic?" - -The man who had challenged him--a lank, swarthy individual from the -Mexican border--looked him over with twinkling eyes. "You'll do, -Cafferty, old-timer," he drawled, "and if you don't, you'll wish you -had. There's a man for every rifle just now, but I wouldn't be surprised -if there'd be a right smart more rifles than men before a great while. -Help yourself to the gun o' the first man that goes down; in the -meantime, hop into that there truck and keep the cartridge belt for the -machine guns full up. You're just in time." - -Without further ado Don Juan climbed into the truck. A little citadel of -sheet steel had been built around the driver's seat, with a narrow slit -in front through which the latter peered out. The body of the truck -had been boxed in with the same material and housed two machine guns, -emplaced, and a crew of half a dozen men crouched on the floor, -busily engaged in loading the belts. Four motor bicycles, with sturdy, -specially built side-cars attached, and a machine gun in each side-car, -were waiting near by, together with a half-dozen country carts loaded -with ammunition cases and drawn by horses. - -"How soon do we start?" Don Juan demanded anxiously, as he crowded in -beside one of his newfound comrades. - -"I believe," this individual replied in the unmistakable accents of an -Oxford man, "that the plan is to wait until five o'clock; by that time -all the government troops that can be spared from the arsenal and palace -will have been dispatched to the fighting now taking place west of the -city. Naturally, the government forces aren't anticipating an attack -from the rear, and so they will, in all probability, weaken their base. -I believe that eases our task; certainly it will save us many men." - -Don Juan nodded his entire approval to this shrewd plan of campaign and -fell to stuffing cartridges in the web belting, the while he whistled -softly, unmusically, and with puffing, hissing sounds between his -snaggle teeth, until a Sobrantean gentleman (it was Doctor Pacheco) came -out of the warehouse and gave the order to proceed. - -They moved out silently, the Sobrantean rebels falling into line behind -the auto-truck, the motorcycle battery, and the transport-carts, all of -which were in charge of the machine gun company. They marched along -the water-front for four blocks and then turned up a side street, which -happened to be the Calle de Concordia, thus enabling Mother Jenks, who -was peering from the doorway of El Buen Amigo, to see them coming. - -"Hah!" she muttered. "'Enery, they're cornin'. The worm is turnin', -'Enery; fifteen years you've wyted for vengeance, my love, but to-d'y -you'll get it." - -She waddled out into the street and held up her hand in a gesture -as authoritative and imperious as that of a traffic officer. -"Batter-r-ry 'alt!" she croaked. She had heard the late 'Enery give that -command often enough to have acquired the exact inflection necessary -to make an impression upon men accustomed to obeying such a command -whenever given. Instinctively the column slowed up; some of the Foreign -Legion, old coast-artillerists, no doubt, came to a halt with promptness -and precision; all stared at Mother Jenks. - -"Ow about 'arf a dozen cases o' good brandy for the wounded?" Mother -Jenks suggested. "An' 'ow about a bally old woman for a Red Cross -nurse?" - -"You're on, ma'am," the foreign leader replied promptly, and translated -the old lady's suggestion to Doctor Pacheco, who accepted gracefully -and thanked Mother Jenks in purest Castilian. So a detail of six men was -told off to carry the six cases of brandy out of El Buen Amigo and load -them on the ammunition carts; then Mother Jenks crawled up into the -armoured truck with the machine-gun crew, and the column once more took -up its line of rapid march. - -The objective of this unsuspected force within the city was, as Ricardo -Ruey shrewdly suspected it might be, poorly garrisoned. Usually a force -of fully five hundred men was stationed at the national arsenal, but the -sharp, savage attack from the west, so sudden and unexpected, had thrown -Sarros into a panic and left him no time to plan his defence carefully. -His first thought had been to send all his available forces to -support the troops bearing the brunt of the rebel attack, and it was -tremendously important that this should be done very promptly, in view -of the lack of information concerning the numerical force of the enemy; -consequently he had reduced the arsenal force to one hundred men and -retained only his favorite troop of the Guards and one company of the -Fifteenth Infantry to protect the palace. - -Acting under hastily given telephonic orders, the commanding officer -at the cantonment barracks had detailed a few hundred men to fight a -rear-guard action while the main army fell back in good order behind a -railway embankment which swept in a wide arc around the city and offered -an excellent substitute for breastworks. This position had scarcely -been attained before the furious advance of the rebels drove in the -rear guard, and pending the capture of the arsenal, Ricardo realized -his operations were at an _impasse_. Promptly he dug himself in, and the -battle developed into a brisk affair of give and take, involving meagre -losses to both factions but an appalling wastage of ammunition. - -The arsenal, a large, modern concrete building with tremendously thick -walls reinforced by steel, would have offered fairly good resistance -to the average field battery. Surrounding it on all four sides was a -reinforced concrete wall thirty feet high, with machine-gun bastions at -each corner and a platform along the wall, inside and twenty-five feet -from the ground, which afforded foot room for infantry which could use -the top five feet of the wall for protection while firing over it. There -was but one entrance, a heavy, barred steel gate which was always -kept locked when it was not necessary to have it opened for ingress or -egress. Given warning of an attack and with sufficient time to prepare -for it, one hundred of the right sort of fighting men could withstand an -indefinite siege by a force not provided with artillery heavier than an -ordinary field gun. With a full realization of this, therefore, Ricardo -and his confrres had designed to accomplish by strategy that which -could not be done by the limited forces at their command. - -The tread of marching men, the purr of the motorcycles and the armoured -truck, during the progress of the invaders up the Calle de Concordia, -aroused the dwellers in that thoroughfare. Those who appeared in -their' doorways, however, as promptly disappeared upon recognizing this -indubitable evidence of local disturbance. As the column approached the -neighbourhood of the arsenal, three detachments broke away from the main -body and disappeared down side streets, to turn at right angles later -and march parallel with the main command. Each of these detachments was -accompanied by one unit of the motorcycle-mounted machine-gun battery -with its white crew; two blocks beyond the arsenal square each -detachment leader so disposed his men as to offer spirited resistance to -any sortie that might be made by the troops from the palace in the hope -of driving off the attackers of the arsenal. - -Having thus provided for protection during its operations, the main body -nominally under Doctor Pacheco but in reality commanded by the chief of -the machine-gun company, proceeded to operate. With the utmost assurance -in the world the armoured truck rolled down the street to the arsenal -entrance, swung in and pointed its impudent nose straight at the iron -bars while the hidden chauffeur called loudly and profanely in Spanish -upon the sentry to open the gate and let him in--that there was -necessity for great hurry, since he had been sent down from the palace -by the _prsidente_ himself, for machine guns to equip this armoured -motor-car. The sentry immediately called the officer of the guard, who -peered out, observed nothing but the motor-truck, which seemed far from -dangerous, and without further ado inserted a huge key in the lock and -turned the bolt. The sentry swung the double gates ajar, and with a -prolonged and raucous toot of its horn the big car loafed in. The sentry -closed the gate again, while the officer stepped up to turn the key in -the lock. Instead, he died with half a dozen pistol bullets through his -body, while the sentry sprawled beside him. - -The prolonged toot of the motor-horn had been the signal agreed upon to -apprise the detachment waiting in a secluded back street that the truck -was inside the arsenal wall. With a yell they swept out of the side -street and down on the gate, through which they poured into the arsenal -grounds. At sound of the first shot at the gate, the _comandante_ of the -garrison, which had been drawn up in double rank for reveille roll -call, realized he was attacked and that swift measures were necessary. -Fortunately for him, his men were standing at attention at the time, -preparatory to receiving from him one of those ante-battle exhortations -so dear to the Latin soul. - -A sharp command, and the little garrison had fixed bayonets; another -command, and they were in line of squads; before the auto-truck could -be swung sideways to permit a machine gun to play on the Sobranteans -in close formation, the latter had thrown out a skirmish fine and were -charging; while from the guardhouse window, just inside the gate, a -volley, poured into the unprotected rear of the truck following its -passage through the gate, did deadly execution. The driver, a bullet -through his back, sagged forward into his steel-clad citadel; both -machine-gun operators were wounded, and the truck was stalled. The -situation was desperate. - -"I'm a gone goose," mourned Don Juan Cafetro, and he leaped from the -shambles to the ground, with some hazy notion of making his escape -through the gate. He was too late. Two men, riding tandem on a -motorcycle with a machine gun in the specially constructed side-car, -appeared in the entrance and leaped off; almost before Don Juan had time -to dodge behind the motor-truck to escape possible wild bullets, the -machine gun was sweeping the oncoming skirmish line. Don Juan cheered -as man after man of the garrison pitched on his face, for the odds were -rapidly being evened now, greatly to the pleasure of the men charging -through the gate to support the machine gun. Out into the arsenal yard -they swept, forcing the machine-gun crew to cease firing because of the -danger of killing their own men; with a shock bayonet met bayonet in the -centre of the yard, and the issue was up for prompt and final decision. - -Don Juan's Hibernian blood thrilled; he cast about for a weapon in this -emergency, and his glance rested on the body of the dead officer beside -the gate. To possess himself of the latter's heavy "cut-and-thrust" -sword was the work of seconds, and with a royal good will Don Juan -launched himself into the heart of the scrimmage. He had a hazy -impression that he was striking and stabbing, that others were striking -and stabbing at him, that men crowded and breathed and pressed and swore -and grunted around him, that the fighting-room was no better than it -might have been but was rapidly improving. Then the gory fog lifted, -and Doctor Pacheco had Don Juan by the hand; they stood together in the -arsenal entrance, and the little Doctor was explaining to the war-mad -Don Juan that all was over in so far as the arsenal was concerned--the -survivors of the garrison having surrendered--that now, having the -opportunity, he, Doctor Pacheco, desired to thank Don Juan Cafetro for -his life. Don Juan looked at him amazedly, for he hadn't the slightest -idea what the Doctor was talking about. He spat, gazed around at -the litter of corpses on the arsenal lawn, and nodded his red head -approvingly. - -In an incredibly short space of time the news that the arsenal had been -captured and that Sarros was besieged in the palace spread through -the city. The sight of the red banner of revolution floating over the -arsenal for the first time in fifteen years brought hundreds of willing -recruits to the rebel ranks, as Ricardo Ruey had anticipated; these were -quickly supplied with arms and ammunition; by ten o'clock a battalion -had been formed and sent off, together with the machine-gun company, to -connect with the San Bruno contingent advancing from the south to turn -the flank of the government troops, while the equipping of an additional -battalion proceeded within the arsenal. As fast as the new levies were -armed, they were hurried off to reinforce the handful of white men who -had, after clearing the arsenal, advanced on the palace and now, with -machine guns from the arsenal commanding all avenues of escape from the -trap wherein Sarros found himself, were calmly awaiting developments, -merely keeping an eye open for snipers. - -Thus the forenoon passed away. By one o'clock Don Juan Cafetro--who -in the absence of close-range fighting had elected himself ordnance -sergeant--passed out the last rifle and ammunition. He was red with -slaughter, slippery with gun-grease, dripping with perspiration and -filthy with dust and dirt. "Begorra," he declared, "a cowld bottle av -beer would go fine now." Then, recalling his limitations, he sighed and -put the thought from him. It revived in him, however, for the first time -since he had left the steamer, a memory of John Stuart Webster, and his -promise to the latter to report on the progress of the war. So Don Juan -sought Doctor Pacheco in his headquarters and learned that a signal-man, -heliographing from the roof of the arsenal, had been in communication -with General Ruey, who reported the situation well in hand, with no -doubt of an overwhelming victory before the day should be over. This and -sundry other bits of information Don Juan gleaned and then deserted the -Sobrantean revolutionary army quite as casually as he had joined it, to -make his precarious way down the Calle San Rosario to the bay. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV - -|THROUGHOUT the forenoon Webster and Dolores, from the deck of the -steamer, watched the city. Numerous fires covered it with a pall of -smoke from beneath which came the steady crackle of machine-gun fire, -mingled with the insistent crash of the field batteries which seemingly -had moved up closer to their target. - -[Illustration 0006] - -By ten o'clock the sounds of battle had swelled to a deeper, steadier -roar, and refugees arriving brought various and fragmentary stories of -the fighting. From this hodge-podge of misinformation, however, Webster -decided that Ricardo's troops were forcing the issue with vim and -determination, and since the most furious fighting was now well in -toward the heart of the city, it seemed reasonable to presume the -struggle was for possession of the arsenal and palace. - -At noon the deep diapason of conflict began to slacken; by one o'clock -it had dwindled considerably, and at two o'clock Webster, gazing -anxiously cityward, observed Leber's launch coming rapidly out from -shore. At the wheel stood Don Juan Cafetro; as the launch shot in under -the vessel's side he looked up, searching for Webster's face among the -curious throng that lined the rail. - -"Faugh-a-ballagh!" he shrieked. "We've got the divils cornered now. -'Twill be over two hours hince." - -"Who has won?" a voice called, and another, evidently a humourist and a -shrewd judge of human nature, replied: "Why ask foolish questions? The -rebels, of course. That fellow's Irish and the Irish are born rebels. -Look at the scoundrel. He's black with gun-grease and burned powder -where he isn't red with blood. The butcher!" - -Don Juan tied up the launch at the gangway and leaped up the ladder, -three steps at a time. "Glory be to God," he panted and hurled himself -into Webster's arms. "I was in it! I was. I got back in time to catch up -wit' the lads at the warehouse an' they were the fine, fightin' divils, -I'll gamble you. Och, 'twas a grrand bit av a fight--whilst it lasted. -They put me in the motor-thruck, loadin' the belts wit' ca'tridges as -fast as the gunners imptied thim, but faith they couldn't keep me there. -I got into the heart av the scrimmage in the yard av the arsenal an' -faith 'twas well for that little Docthor Pacheco I did. 'Twas wurrk to -me likin'. I'd a machete----" - -"You bloodthirsty scoundrel!" Webster shook the war-mad son of Erin. -"I told you not to mix in it, but to hang around on the fringe of the -fight, and bring us early news. Suppose you'd been killed? Who would -have come for us then? Didn't I tell you we had a dinner engagement in -the palace?" - -"Me on the fringes av a fight," sputtered Don Juan, amazed and outraged. -"Take shame for yerself, sor. There was niver the likes av me hung -around the fringes av a fight, an' well ye know it." - -"I'm amazed that you even remembered your instructions," Webster rasped -at him. - -"Sure, our division had cl'aned up nicely an' I had nothin' else to -do, God bless ye. They were besiegin' the palace whin I left, an' small -chance av takin' it for a couple av hours; what fightin' there was on -the outside was shtreet shootin'--an' not to me likin'." - -"Is it quite safe to bring Miss Ruey ashore, John?" - -"'Tis safe enough at the Hotel Mateo. We have the city for half a mile -beyant, in the rear av them--an' they're not fightin' to get to the -bay. The Guards an' some av the Fifteenth Infanthry regimint are in the -palace an' the _cuartel_ close by, an' thim that we failed to get in the -arsenal have j'ined thim. But the bulk av the Sarros army is thryin' to -break t'rough to the south an' west, to get to the hills. D'ye mind the -spur thrack that runs in a semi-cirrcle around the city? Well, thin, the -rebels are behint the embankmint, takin' it aisy. Have no worry, sor. -Whin we've took the palace we'll move on an' dhrive the vagbones from -behint up to that railroad embankmint, where _Gineral Ruey_ can bid them -the time av day." - -Webster turned to Dolores. "Do you wish to go ashore?" - -She nodded, her flashing eyes bent in admiration upon the gory, grimy -Don Juan Cafetro, for she was half Irish, and in that amazing meeting -she knew the outcast for one of her blood. "I think my brother will -sleep in his father's old room to-night," she murmured softly. "And I -would sleep in mine." - -They followed Don Juan down the gangway to the launch and sped back to -the city. The door of Leber's warehouse stood wide open; within was -a litter of greasy rags and broken packing cases, with Leber, quite -mystified, sitting on a keg of nails and staring curiously at it all. - -Guided by Don Juan Cafetro, Webster and Dolores passed on up the Calle -San Rosario. Occasionally a bullet, fired two or three miles to the -west, droned lazily overhead or dropped with a sharp metallic sound -on the corrugated-iron roofs of a building. At the hotel the proprietor -alone was in evidence, seated behind the desk smoking in profound -indifference. - -In response to Webster's eager inquiries for the latest news from -the front, the placid fellow shrugged and murmured: "_Quien sabe?_" -Evidently for him such stirring scenes had long since lost their -novelty; the bloom was off the peach, as it were. - -Webster went upstairs and helped himself to another automatic and -several spare clips of shells which he had left in his trunk. On his -return to the lobby, Dolores saw what a very near sighted person, -indeed, would have seen--to wit: that he was not pleased to remain -in the hotel and with the spirit of adventure strong within him was -desirous of progressing still farther toward the firing, in the hope -of eliciting some favourable news as to the progress of the fight. She -realized, however, that he would do his duty and remain with her in the -hotel; so she said gaily: - -"Suppose we walk out a little farther, Caliph. Many of the side streets -will be as safe and peaceful as one could desire, and if warfare should -develop in our vicinity we can step into some house." - -"I do not like to have you run the slightest risk----" he began, but she -pooh-poohed him into silence, took him by the arm with a great air -of camaraderie, and declared they should go forth to adventure--but -cautiously. - -Webster glanced at Don Juan. "We can go a half or three quarters av a -mile out the Calle San Rosario, sor," the Irishman answered. "After -that 'twill not be a pleasant sight for the young leddy--an' there may -be some shootin'. Squads av the governmint throops took refuge in the -houses an' took to snipin'. 'Twill be shlow wurrk roundin' the last av -thim up. Even afther the fight is over, there'll be scatterin' shootin' -scrapes all av the night long, I'm thinkin'." - -"At the slightest danger we'll turn back," Webster announced, and with -Don Juan Cafetro scouting the way a block in advance they progressed -slowly toward the centre of the disturbance. - -Soon they passed a horse dead in the middle of the street; a little -farther on one of the machine-gun company, a lank Texan, sat on the -curb rolling a cigarette with his left hand. He had a bullet through -his right shoulder and another through the calf of his left leg and -had received no first aid attention; the flies were bothering -him considerably and he was cursing softly and fluently, like the -ex-mule-skinner he was. - -Farther on another white invader lay face down in the gutter; for him -the fight had ended almost ere it had begun. In the next block half a -dozen sandal-footed Sobranteans, in the blue and red-trimmed uniform of -the _Guardia Civil_, lay spawled in uncouth attitudes, where the first -blast of a machine gun had caught them as they rushed out of the police -station to repel the advancing mercenaries. - -Seeing that the main street of the city would assume even a more grisly -aspect the longer they followed it, Don Juan led Webster and Dolores a -couple of blocks down a cross-street and turned out into the Calle de -Hernandez, parallel to the Calle San Rosario. There had been no shooting -in this street, apparently; as they proceeded not even a stray bullet -whined down the silent calle. - -Four blocks from the government palace, however, they found the narrow -sidewalks of this quiet street lined with wounded from both sides, with -a doctor and half a dozen of Ricardo's hired fighters ministering to -them; as they threaded their way between the recumbent figures they came -upon Mother Jenks, brandy bottle and glass in hand, "doing her bit." - -"Hah! So here you are, my lamb," she greeted Dolores. "Right-o. Just -where yer ought to be, Gor' bless yer sweet face. Let these poor -misfortunate lads see that the sister o' the new president ain't -too proud to care for 'em. 'Ere, lass. 'Old up the 'ead o' this young -cockerel with the 'ole in 'is neck. 'Ere, lad. Tyke a brace now! 'Ere's -some o' your own people, not a lot o' bloomin' yeller-bellies, come to -put something else in yer neck--somethink that'll stimulate yer." - -The "young cockerel," a blond youth of scarce twenty summers, twisted -his head and grinned up at Dolores as she knelt beside him to lift -him up. "Here, here, sister," he mumbled, "you'll get that white dress -dirty. Never mind me. It's just a flesh wound, only my neck has got -stiff and I'm weak from loss of blood." - -Mother Jenks winked at Webster as she set a glass of brandy to the -stricken adventurer's lips. "Give me a bit o' the white meat, as my -sainted 'Enery used to s'y," she murmured comically. - -Dolores looked up at Webster. "I'll stay here," she said simply. "I've -found a job helping Mother Jenks. You and Don Juan may run along if you -wish. I know you're as curious as children." - -They were. It would have been impossible for any man with red corpuscles -in his blood to harken to the shooting and shouts only three city blocks -distant without yearning to see the fight itself. - -"I'll return in fifteen minutes, at the latest," he promised her, and -with Don Juan Cafetro, who had helped himself to a rifle and bayonet -from one of the wounded, he turned the corner into the next street and -started back toward the Calie San Rosario, which they followed west -through a block plentifully sprinkled with the dead of both factions. - -Don Juan led the way through an alley in the rear of the Catedral de -la Santa Cruz to the door of the sacristy; as he placed his hand on -the latch three rifle bullets struck around them, showering them with -fragments of falling adobe. - -"There's a house party in the neighbourhood," yelled Don Juan and darted -into the church, with Webster at his heels, just in time to escape -another fusillade. They walked through the sacristy and passed through -a door into the great cathedral, with its high, carved, Gothic-arched -ceiling. Through the thick closed doors of the main entrance, lost in -the dimness of space out in front, the sounds of the battle half a block -away seemed very distant, indeed. - -They passed the altar and Don Juan genuflected and crossed himself -reverently. "I'll be afther makin' me confession," he whispered to -Webster. "Wait for me, sor." - -He leaned his rifle against the altar railing, crossed the church and -touched lightly on the shoulder a monk kneeling in prayer before the -altar of the Virgin; the latter bent his head while Don Juan whispered; -then he rose and both went into the confessional, while Webster found a -bench along the wall and waited. - -Presently Don Juan came forth, knelt on the red-tiled floor and -prayed--something, Webster suspected, he had not done for quite a -while. And when he had finished his supplication and procured his rifle, -Webster joined him, the monk unbolted the door and from the quiet of the -house of God they passed out into the street and the tumult of hell. - -"I've been dost to death this day," Don Juan explained, "an' the day is -not done. Be the same token,'tis long since I'd made me last confession; -sure, until you picked me out av the mire, sor, 'tis little thought I -had for the hereafter." - -They were standing on the steps of the cathedral as Don Juan spoke, -and from their place they could see a dozen or more of Ricardo's hired -fighters crouched under the shelter of the palace walls across the -street. "I think we'll be safer there," Webster cried, as a couple of -bullets struck the stone steps at their feet and ricocheted against the -cathedral door. "That rifle of yours is making you a marked man, Don -Juan." - -They ran across the street and joined the men under the palace wall. - -"What's this?" Don Juan demanded briskly. "Have ye not shmoked thim out -yet?" - -"Noddings doing," a young German answered. "Der chief has sent word dot -we shall not artillery use on der balace. Men all aroundt it we haf, mit -a machine gun commanding each gate; most of der poys have chust moved -out west in der rear of der government troops." - -"Then," Don Juan declared with conviction, "there'll be no fighting here -to speak av, until later." - -"Der is blenty of choy hunting snipers, _mein freund_. Der houses -hereabouts vos filled mit dem." - -"I'll have no cat fights in mine," Don Juan retorted. "Come wit' -me, sor, an' we'll be in at the death out beyant at the railroad -embankmint." - -"Too late," Webster answered, for on the instant to the west the crackle -of rifle and machine-gun fire interluded with the staccato barks of -a Maxim-Vickers broke out, swelling almost immediately to a steady -outpouring of sound. "We'll stay here where we're safe for the finals. -When General Ruey has cleaned up out there he'll come here to take -command." - -For half an hour the sounds of a brisk engagement to the west did not -slacken; then with disconcerting suddenness the uproar died away fully -50 per cent. - -"They're going in with the bayonet and machetes," somebody who knew -remarked laconically. "Wait and you'll hear the cheering." - -They waited fully ten minutes, but presently, as the firing gradually -died away, they heard it, faint and indistinguishable at first, but -gradually coming nearer. And presently the trapped men in the palace -heard it, too. "Viva Ruey! Viva! Viva Ruey!" - -"All over but the shouting," Don Juan remarked disgustedly. "The lads in -the palace will surrindher now. Sure Gineral Ruey was right afther all. -For why should he shoot holes in the house he's goin' to live in, an' -where, be the same token, he gives a dinner party this night?" - -"I'm glad the end is in sight," Webster replied. "We have no interest in -this revolution, John, and it isn't up to us to horn in on the play; yet -if it went against the Ruey faction, I fear we'd be forced into active -service in spite of ourselves. There is such a thing as fighting to save -one's skin, you know." - -Don Juan laughed pleasurably. "What a shame we missed the row out beyant -at the railroad em-bankmint," he declared. - -"I wish you'd kept out of it, Don Juan. What business had you in the -fight at the _cuartd?_ Suppose you'd been killed?" - -"Small loss!" Don Juan retorted. - -"I should have mourned you nevertheless, John." - -"Would you that same?" Don Juan's buttermilk eyes lighted with affection -and pleasure. "Would it put a pang in the heart of you, sor, to see me -stretched?" - -"Yes, it would, John. You're a wild, impulsive, lunatic, worthless -Irishman, but there's a broad vein of pay-ore in you, and I want you to -live until I can develop it. When Mr. Geary returns to operate the mine, -he'll need a foreman he can trust." - -"And do you trust me, sor?" - -"I do indeed, John. By the way, you never gave me your word of honour to -cut out red liquor for keeps. Up till to-day I've had to watch you--and -I don't want to do that. It isn't dignified for either of us, and from -to-day on you must be a man or a mouse. If you prove yourself a man, I -want you in my business; if you prove yourself a mouse, somebody else -may have you. How about you, John? The _cantinas_ will be open to-night, -and firewater will be free to the soldiers of the new republic. Must I -watch you to-night?" - -Don Juan shook his reckless red head. "I'll never let a drop of liquor -cross my lips without your permission, sor," he promised simply. "I am -the man and you are the master." - -"We'll shake hands on that!" After the western habit of validating all -verbal agreements with a handshake, Webster thrust his hard hand out to -his man, who took it in both of his and held it for half a minute. He -wanted to speak, but couldn't; he could only bow his head as his eyes -clouded with the tears of his appreciation. "Ah, sor," he blurted -presently, "I'd die for ye an' welcome the chanst." - -A wild yell of alarm broke out in the next block, at the north gate of -the palace; there was a sudden flurry of rifle fire and cries of "Here -they come! Stop them! Stop them! They're breaking out!" - -Without awaiting orders the hired fighters along the wall--some fifteen -of them--leaped out into the street, forming a skirmish line, just as a -troop of cavalry, with drawn sabres, swept around the corner and charged -upon the devoted little line. "Sarros must be thryin' to make his -get-away," Don Juan Cafetro remarked coolly, and emptied a saddle. -"They threw open the big palace gate, an' the Guards are clearin' a way -for him to the bay." He emptied another saddle. - -In the meantime Ricardo's fire-eaters had not been idle. The instant the -Guards turned into the street a deadly magazine fire had been opened -on them. They had already suffered heavily winning through the gate and -past the besiegers in front of it, but once they turned the corner into -the next street they had the fire of but a handful of men to contend -with. Nevertheless it was sufficiently deadly. Many of the horses in -the front rank went down with their riders, forcing the maddened animals -behind to clear their carcasses by leaping over them, which some did. -Many, however, tripped and stumbled in their wild gallop, spilling their -riders. - -"Stay by the wall, you madman," Webster ordered. "There'll be enough -left to ride down those men in the street and sabre them!" - -And there were! They died to a man, and the sadly depleted troop of -Guards galloped, on, leaving Don Juan and Webster unscathed on the -sidewalk, the only two living men unhurt in that shambles. - -Not for long, however, did they have the street to themselves. Around -the corner of the palace wall a limousine, with the curtains drawn, swung -on two wheels, skidded, struck the carcass of a horse and turned over, -catapulting the chauffeur into the middle of the street. - -"Sarros!" shrieked Don Juan and ran to the overturned vehicle. It was -quite empty. - -"Bully boy, Senor Sarros," Webster laughed. "He's turned pretty trick, -hasn't he? Sent his Guards out to hack a pathway for an empty limousine! -That means he's hoping to draw the watchers from the other gate!" - -But Don Juan Cafetro was not listening; he was running at top speed for -the south gate of the palace grounds--and Webster followed. - -As they swung into the street upon which this south gate opened, Webster -saw that it was deserted of all save the dead, for Sarros's clever ruse -had worked well and had had the effect of arousing the curiosity of his -enemies as to the cause of the uproar at the north gate, in consequence -of which they had all scurried around the block to see what they could -see, thus according Sarros the thing he desired most--a fighting chance -and a half minute to get through the gate and headed for the steamship -landing without interference. - -Webster and Don Juan came abreast the high, barred gate in the thick, -twenty-foot masonry wall as the barrier swung back and a man, in -civilian clothes, thundered through on a magnificent bay thoroughbred. - -"That's him. Shtop the divil!" screamed Don Juan. "They'll do the decent -thing be me if I take him alive." - -To Webster, who had acquired the art of snap shooting while killing time -in many a lonely camp, the bay charger offered an easy mark. "Hate to -down that beautiful animal," he remarked--and pulled away. - -The horse leaped into the air and came down stifflegged; Sarros spurred -it cruelly, and the gallant beast strove to gather itself into its -stride, staggered and sank to its knees, as with a wild Irish yell Don -Juan Cafetro reached the dictator's side. - -Sarros drew a revolver, but before he could use it Don Juan tapped him -smartly over the head with his rifle barrel, and the man toppled inertly -to the ground beside his dying horse. - -"More power to ye, sor," Don Juan called cheerily and turned to receive -Webster's approval. - -What he saw paralyzed him for an instant. Webster was standing beside -the gate, firing into a dozen of Sarros's soldiery who were pouring out -of a house just across the street, where for an hour they had crouched -unseen and unheard by the Ruey men at the gate. They were practically -out of ammunition and had merely been awaiting a favourable opportunity -to escape before the rebels should enter the city in force and the -house-to-house search for snipers should begin. They had been about to -emerge and beat a hasty retreat, when Sarros rode out at the gate, and -with a rush they followed, gaining the sidewalk in time to be witnesses -to the dictator's downfall. - -For a moment they had paused, huddled on the sidewalk behind their -officer, who, turning to scout the street up and down, beheld John -Stuart Webster standing by the gate with an automatic in his hand. At -the same instant Webster's attention had been attracted to the little -band on the sidewalk; in their leader he recognized no less a personage -than his late acquaintance, the fire-eating Captain Jos Benavides. -Coincidently Benavides recognized Webster. - -It was an awkward situation. Webster realized the issue was about to be -decided, that if he would have it in his favour, he should waste not one -split-second before killing the mercurial Benavides as the latter stood -staring at him. It was not a question, now, of who should beat the other -to the draw, for each had already filled his hand. It was a question, -rather, as to who should recover first from his astonishment. If -Benavides decided to let bygones be bygones and retreat without firing -a shot, then Webster was quite willing to permit him to pass unmolested; -indeed, such was his aversion to shooting any man, so earnestly did he -hope the Sobrantean would consider that discretion was the better part -of valour, that he resolved to inculcate that idea in the Hotspur. - -"Captain Benavides," he said suavely, "your cause is lost. If you care -to escape aboard the steamer, I will see to it that you are not removed -from her before she sails; if you care to surrender to me now, I give -you my word of honour you will not be executed." - -Benavides might have had, and doubtless did have, his faults, but -cowardice was not one of them. And he did have the ghost of a sense of -humour. An evil smile flitted over his olive features. - -"Without taking into consideration the bayonets at my back," he replied, -"it strikes me the odds are even now. And yet you patronize me." - -Webster was nettled. "I'd rather do that than kill you, Benavides," he -retorted. "Don't be a fool. Run along and sell your papers, and take -your pitiful little sandal-footed brigands with you. Scat!" - -Benavides's hand, holding his pistol, had been hanging loosely at his -side. With his furious glance meeting Webster's unfalteringly, with -the merest movement of his wrist and scarcely without movement of his -forearm, he threw up his weapon and fired. Scarcely a fifth of a second -had elapsed between the movement of his wrist and the pressure of his -finger on the trigger; Webster, gazing steadily into the sombre eyes, -had noted no hint of the man's intention, and was actually caught off -his guard. - -The bullet tore through his biceps, momentarily paralyzing him, and -his automatic dropped clattering to the sidewalk; as he stooped and -recovered it, Benavides fired again, creasing the top of his left -shoulder. The Sobrantean took aim for a third and finishing shot, but -when he pulled the trigger the hammer fell on a defective cartridge, -which gave to John Stuart Webster all the advantage he craved. He -planted a bullet in Benavides's abdomen with his first shot, blew out -the duelist's brains with his second, and whirled to meet the charge of -the little sandal-footed soldados, who, seeing their leader fallen, had -without an instant's hesitation and apparently by mutual consent decided -to avenge him. - -Webster backed dazedly toward the wall, firing as he did so, but he was -too dizzy to shoot effectively, and the semicircle of bayonets closed in -on his front. He had wounded three men without stopping them; a second -more, and their long, eighteen-inch bayonets would have been in his -vitals, when into the midst of the mle, from the rear, dashed Don Juan -Cafetro, shrieking like a fiend and swinging his rifle, which he held -grasped by the barrel. - -Webster saw a bayonet lunging toward him. He lifted his leg and caught -the point on his boot-heel while with his last cartridge he killed -the man behind the bayonet, just as the latter's next-rank man thrust -straight and true in under the American's left arm, while a third man -jabbed at his stomach and got the bayonet home in his hip. These two -thrusts, delivered almost simultaneously, by their impact carried their -victim backward against the wall, against which his head collided with -a smart thud. He fell forward on his face; before his assailants could -draw back for a finishing thrust, in case the gringo needed it, which -they doubted, Don Juan Cafetro had brained them both. - -Standing above the man he loved, with the latter's body between his -outspread legs, Don Juan Cafetro stood for the final accounting, his -buttermilk eyes gleaming hatred and war-madness, his lips drawn back -from his snaggle teeth, his breast rising and falling as they closed in -around him. For a few seconds he was visible swinging his rifle like a -flail, magnificent, unterrified--and then a bayonet slipped in under his -guard. It was the end. - -With a final great effort that used up the last strength in his -drink-corroded muscles he hurled his rifle into the midst of his four -remaining enemies, before he swayed and toppled full length on top of -Webster, shielding with his poor body the man who had fanned to flame -the dying ember of manhood in the wreck that drink and the devil had -cast up on the Caribbean coast. - -For Don Juan Cafetro it had been a long, joyous, thirsty day, but at -last the day was done. And in order to make certain, a _soldado_ -jabbed him once more through the vitals before he fled with the other -survivors. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI - -|FOR half an hour after Webster left her to assist the great-hearted -Mother Jenks in her rough care of the wounded, Dolores, absorbed in her -work of mercy, gave all of her thought to the grim task before her. The -cries, followed by the sudden, savage outbreak of fire when the Guards -made their dash from the palace, brought Webster and Don Juan to mind -instantly. In a quick access of terror and apprehension she clung, -trembling, to stolid old Mother Jenks. - -"Somebody's breakin' in or breakin' out," the veteran decided calmly. -"Come to the corner, dearie, an' 'ave a look." - -She half dragged Dolores to the corner, from which they had an -unobstructed view down the cross-street to its intersection three blocks -distant with the Calle San Rosario; consequently they saw the dozen or -more survivors of that ill-fated dash from the north gate of the palace -flash for a second across their line of vision. Mother Jenks croaked -dismally, like a disreputable old raven; she was trying to cheer. - -"The rats are leavin' the sinkin' ship," she wheezed. "Come an' see them -tyke the devils as killed my sainted 'Enery." She broke eagerly from -Dolores's detaining grasp and ran down the street. Dolores hesitated a -moment; then, reasoning that her duty lay in pursuing Mother Jenks and -preventing her from rushing headlong into the conflict, she followed. - -Evidently the fleeing Guards had scurried around a corner into a -cross-street shortly after Dolores and Mother Jenks had seen them gallop -past, for the firing down the Calle San Rosario had ceased entirely by -the time they reached it. They stood a moment at the corner, gazing up -the street at the dead--man and beast--with the wounded crawling out of -the shambles to the sidewalk. - -Mother Jenks nodded approvingly as triumphant shouts from the north -gate told her the Ruey men were pouring into the palace; with their arms -about each other the two women watched and waited--and presently the -national flag on the palace came fluttering down from its staff, to be -raised again with the red banner of revolution fluttering above it, the -insignia of a nation reborn. - -"My lamb," Mother Jenks said softly to Dolores, "the war is over. Wot's -the matter with goin' in the south gate an' wytin' on the palace steps -for the provisional president to make his grand ountray? If we 'esitate -five minutes they'll have a bloomin' guard on both gates, arskin' us 'oo -we are an' wot we want." - -"But Mr. Webster will come to that back street looking for me; I must go -back and wait there for him." - -"Wyte, nothink!" Mother Jenks overruled the girl's protest roughly. -"'E'll 'ave gone into the palace with the crowd for a look-see; we'll -meet 'im there an' syve 'im the trouble o' 'untin' for us. Come!" And she -half dragged the shrinking girl toward the gate, a block distant, where -only a few minutes before Webster and Don Juan Cafetro had made their -ineffectual stand. - -"Don't look at the blighters, honey," Mother Jenks warned Dolores when, -in approaching the gate, she caught sight of the bodies strewed in front -of it. "My word! Regular bally mess--an' all spiggoties! Cawn't be. Must -'ave been some white meat on this bird, as my sainted 'Enery uster s'y. -Hah! Thought so! There's a red-headed 'un! Gawd's truth! An' 'e done all -that--Gor' strike me pink! It's Don Juan Cafetro." - -Mother Jenks stepped over the gory corpses ringed around Don Juan -and knelt beside him. "Don Juan!" she cried. "You bally, interferin' -blighter, you've gone an' got it!" - -She ran her strong old arms under his dripping body, lifted him and -laid his red head on her knee, while with her free hand she drew a small -flask of brandy from her dress pocket. - -Don Juan opened his buttermilk eyes and gazed up at her with slowly -dawning wonder, then closed them again, drowsily, like a tired child. -Mother Jenks pressed the flask to his blue lips; as the brandy bit his -tongue he rolled his fiery head in feeble protest and weakly set his -teeth against the lip of the flask. Wondering, Mother Jenks withdrew -it--and then Don Juan spoke. - -"Have ye the masther's permission, _allanah?_ I give him me worm av -honour--not--to dhrink--till--he--give--permission. He--was good--to -me--troth he was--God--love--me--boss----" - -His jaw dropped loosely; his head rolled sideways; but ere his spirit -fled, Don Juan Cafetro had justified the faith of his master. He had -kept his word of honour. He had made good on his brag to die for John -Stuart Webster and welcome the chance! Mother Jenks held his body a -little while, gazing into the face no longer rubicund; then gently she -eased it to the ground and for the first time was aware that Dolores -knelt in the dirt opposite to her striving to lift the body upon which -Don Juan had been lying. - -The strength of Dolores was unequal to the task; so Mother Jenks, -hardened, courageous, calm as her sainted 'Enery at his inglorious -finish, rose and stepped around to her side to help her. She could see -this other was a white man, too; coolly she stooped and wiped his gory -face with the hem of her apron. And then she recognized him! - -"Lift him up! Give him to me!" Dolores sobbed. "Oh, Caliph, my poor -dear, big-hearted blundering boy!" - -She got her arm under his head; Mother Jenks aided her; and the limp -body was lifted to a sitting position; then Dolores knelt on one knee, -supporting him with the other, and drew his head over on her shoulder; -with her white cheek cuddled against his, she spoke into his deaf ears -the little, tender, foolish words that mothers have for their children, -that women have for the stricken men of their love. She pleaded with him -to open his eyes, to speak to her and tell her he still lived; so close -was his face to hers that she saw an old but very faint white scar -running diagonally across his left eyebrow--and kissed it. - -Presently strong arms took him from her; clinging to somebody--she -knew not whom--she followed, moaning broken-heartedly, while eight -men, forming a rude litter with four rifles passed under his body, bore -Webster to the shade of a tufted palm inside the palace gate. - -As they laid Webster down for a moment there Dolores saw a tall, -youthful man, of handsome features and noble bearing, approach and look -at him. In his eyes there were tears; a sob escaped him as with a little -impulsive, affectionate movement he patted John Stuart Webster's cheek. - -"My friend!" the fainting Dolores heard him murmur. "My great-hearted, -whimsical, lovable John Webster. You made it possible for me to meet you -here to-night--and this is the meeting!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII - -|WHILE Ricardo watched beside the unconscious Webster one of his aides -galloped up the street, to return presently with a detachment with -stretchers, into which Webster and Don Juan Cafetro were laid and -carried up the palace driveway into the huge golden reception-hall where -only the night before Sarros had greeted the belles and beaux of his -capital. In the meantime Mother Jenks had succeeded in restoring Dolores -to consciousness; supported by the indomitable old woman the girl slowly -followed the grim procession until, at the door of the reception-room, -they found their further progress barred by a sentry. - -"The red-haired man is dead," he informed them in response to their -eager queries. "If you want his body," he continued, hazarding a guess -as to their mission, "I guess you can have it. There he is." And the -sentry pointed to the stretcher which had been set down along the wall -of the reception-hall. - -"'Ow about the other?" Mother Jenks demanded. Don Juan Cafetro had, -unfortunately, been so much of a nuisance to her in life that she -was not minded to be troubled greatly over him in death, although the -Spartanlike manner of his exit had thrilled the British bulldog blood in -her. - -"The big fellow isn't quite dead yet, but I'm afraid he's a goner. The -surgeons have him in this room now. Friend of yours, Miss?" he inquired -in tones freighted with neighbourly sympathy. - -Dolores nodded. - -"Sorry I can't let you in, Miss," he continued, "but the General ordered -me to keep everybody out until the doctors have finished looking him -over. If I was you, I'd wait in that room across the hall; then you can -get the first news when the doctors come out." - -Mother Jenks accepted his advice and steered her charge into the room -indicated. And as they waited, Ricardo Ruey stood anxiously beside -the table on which John Stuart Webster's big, limp body reposed, while -Doctor Pacheco, assisted by a Sobrantean confrre, went deftly over him -with surgical scissors and cut the blood-soaked clothing from his body. - -"He breathes very gently," the rebel leader said, presently. "Is there -any hope?" - -The little doctor shrugged. "I fear not. That bayonet-thrust in the left -side missed his heart but not his lung." - -"But apparently he hasn't bled much from that wound." - -"The hemorrhage is probably internal. Even if that congestion of blood -in the lungs does not prove fatal very shortly, he cannot, in his -weakened state, survive the traumatic fever from all these wounds. It -is bound--hello, how our poor friend still lives with the bayonet broken -off in his body--for here is steel--hah! Not a bayonet, but a pistol." - -He unbuttoned the wounded man's coat and found a strap running -diagonally up across his breast and over the right shoulder, connecting -with a holster under the left arm. The doctor unbuckled this strap -and removed the holster, which contained Webster's spare gun; Ricardo, -glancing disinterestedly at the sheathed weapon, noted a small, new, -triangular hole in the leather holster. He picked it up, withdrew the -pistol, and found a deep scratch, recently made, along the blued steel -close to the vulcanite butt. - -When Ricardo glanced at Pacheco after his scrutiny of the pistol and -holster, the doctor's dark eyes were regarding him mirthfully. - -"I have been unnecessarily alarmed, my general," said Pacheco. "Our dear -friend has been most fortunate in his choice of wounds----" - -"He's a lucky Yankee; that's what he is, my dear Pacheco. A lucky -Yankee!" Ricardo leaned over and examined the bayonet-wound in Webster's -left side. "He took the point of the steel on this pistol he happened to -be wearing under his left arm," he went on to explain. "That turned the -bayonet and it slid along his ribs, making a superficial flesh-wound." - -Pacheco nodded. "And this bullet merely burned the top of his right -shoulder, while another passed through his biceps without touching the -bone. His most severe wound is this jab in the hip." - -They stripped every stitch of clothing from Webster and went over him -carefully. At the back of his head they found a little clotted blood -from a small split in the scalp; also they found a lump of generous -proportions. Pacheco laughed briefly but contentedly. - -"Then he is not even seriously injured?" Ricardo interrupted that laugh. - -"I would die of fright if I had to fight this fine fellow a month -from to-day," the little doctor chirped. "Look at that chest, _mi -general_--and that flat abdomen. The man is in superb physical -condition; it is the bump on the head that renders him unconscious--not -loss of blood." - -As if to confirm this expert testimony Webster at that moment breathed -long and deeply, screwed up his face and shook his head very slightly. -Thereafter for several minutes he gave no further evidence of an active -interest in life--seeing which Pacheco decided to take prompt advantage -of his unconsciousness and probe the wounds in his arm and shoulder for -the fragments of clothing which the bullets must have carried into them. -After ten minutes of probing Pacheco announced that he was through and -ready to bandage; whereupon John Stuart Webster said faintly but very -distinctly, in English: - -"I'm awfully glad you are, Doc'. It hurt like hell! Did you manage to -get a bite on that fishing-trip?" - -"Jack Webster, you scoundrel!" Ricardo yelled joyously, and he shook the -patient with entire disregard of the latter's wounds. "Oh, man, I'm glad -you're not dead." - -"Your sentiments appeal to me strongly, my friend. I'm--too--tired to -look--at you. Who the devil--are you?" - -"I'm Ricardo." - -Fell a silence, while Webster prepared for another speech. "Where am I?" - -"In the palace." - -"Hum-m! Then it was a famous victory." - -"One strong, decisive blow did the trick, old chap. We won pulled-up, -and that forty-thousand-dollar bet of yours is safe. I'll cash the -ticket for you tomorrow morning." - -"Damn the forty thousand. Where's my Croppy Boy?" - -"Your what?" - -"My wild Irish blackthorn, Don Juan Cafetro." - -"I hope, old man, he has ere now that which all brave Irishmen and true -deserve--a harp with a crown. In life the Irish have the harp without -the crown, you know." - -"How did he die?" Webster whispered. - -"He died hard, with the holes in front--and he died for you." - -Two big tears trickled slowly through Webster's closed lids and rolled -across his pale cheek. "Poor, lost, lonesome, misunderstood wreck," he -murmured presently, "he was an extremist in all things. He used to sing -those wonderfully poetic ballads of his people--I remember one that -began: 'Green were the fields where my forefathers dwelt.' I think his -heart was in Kerry--so we'll send him there. He's my dead, Ricardo; care -for his body, because I'm--going to plant Don Juan with the--shamrocks. -They didn't understand him here. He was an exile--so I'm going to send -him--home." - -"He shall have a military funeral," Rocardo promised. - -"From the cathedral," Webster added. "And take a picture of it for -his people. He told me about them. I want them to think he amounted -to something, after all. And when you get this two-by-four republic of -yours going again, Rick, you might have your congress award Don Juan a -thousand dollars _oro_ for capturing Sarros. Then we can send the money -to his old folks." - -"But he didn't capture Sarros," Ricardo protested. "The man escaped when -the Guards cut their way through." - -"He didn't. That was a ruse while he beat it out the gate where you -found me. I saw Don Juan knock him cold with the but of his rifle after -I'd brought down his horse." - -"Do you think he's there yet?" - -"He may be--provided all this didn't happen the day before yesterday. If -I wanted him, I'd go down and look for him, Rick." - -"I'll go right away, Jack." - -"One minute, then. Send a man around to that little back street where -they have the wounded--it's a couple of blocks away from here--to tell -Mother Jenks and the young lady with her I'll not be back." - -"They're both outside now. They must have gone looking for you, because -they found you and Don Juan first and then told me about it." - -"Who told you?" - -"Mother Jenks." - -"Oh! Well, run along and get your man." Ricardo departed on the run, -taking the sentry at the door with him and in his haste giving no -thought to Mother Jenks and her companion waiting for the doctor's -verdict. In the palace grounds he gathered two more men and bade them -follow him; leading by twenty yards, he emerged at the gate and paused -to look around him. - -Some hundred feet down the street from the palace gate Sarros's bay -charger lay dead. When Webster's bullet brought the poor beast down, his -rider had fallen clear of him, only to fall a victim to the ferocity of -Don Juan Cafetro. Later, as Sarros lay stunned and bleeding beside his -mount, the stricken animal in its death-struggle had half risen, only -to fall again, this time on the extended left leg of his late master; -consequently when Sarros recovered consciousness following the -thoughtful attentions of his assailant, it was to discover himself a -hopeless prisoner. The heavy carcass of his horse pinned his foot and -part of his leg to the ground, rendering him as helpless and desperate -as a trapped animal. For several minutes now he had been striving -frantically to release himself; with his sound right leg pressed against -the animal's backbone he tried to gain sufficient purchase to withdraw -his left leg from the carcass. - -As Ricardo caught sight of Sarros he instinctively realized that this -was his mortal enemy; motioning his men to stand back, he approached -the struggling man on tiptoe and thoughtfully possessed himself of the -dictator's pistol, which lay in back of him but not out of reach. -Just as he did so, Sarros, apparently convinced of the futility of -his efforts to free himself, surrendered to fate and commenced rather -pitifully to weep with rage and despair. - -Ricardo watched him for a few seconds, for there was just sufficient of -the blood of his Castilian ancestors still in his veins to render this -sorry spectacle rather an enjoyable one to him. Besides, he was 50 per -cent. Iberian, a race which can hate quite as thoroughly as it can -love, and for a time Ricardo even nourished the thought of still further -indulging his thirst for revenge by pretending to aid Sarros in his -escape! Presently, however, he put the ungenerous thought from him; -seizing the dead horse by the tail, he dragged the carcass off his -enemy's leg, and while Sarros sat up, tailor-fashion, and commenced to -tub the circulation back into the bruised member, Ricardo seated himself -on the rump of the dead horse and appraised his prisoner critically. - -Sarros glanced up, remembered his manners and very heartily and -gracefully thanked his deliverer. - -"It is not a matter for which thanks are due me, Sarros," Ricardo -replied coldly. "I am Ricardo Luiz Ruey, and I have come back to -Sobrante to pay my father's debt to you. You will remember having forced -the obligation upon me in the cemetery some fifteen years ago." - -For perhaps ten horrified seconds Sarros stared at Ricardo; then the -dark blood in him came to his defense; his tense pose relaxed; the -fright and despair left his swarthy countenance as if erased with -a moist sponge, leaving him as calmly stoical and indifferent as a -cigarstore Indian. He fumbled in his coat pocket for a gold cigarette -case, selected a cigarette, lighted it and blew smoke at Ricardo. The -jig was up; he knew it; and with admirable nonchalance he declined -to lower his presidential dignity by discussing or considering it. He -realized it would delight his captor to know he dreaded to face the -issue, and it was not a Sarros practice to give aid and comfort to the -enemy. - -"Spunky devil!" Ricardo reflected, forced to admiration despite himself. -Aloud he said: "You know the code of our people, Sarros. An eye for an -eye and a tooth for a tooth." - -Sarros bowed. "I am at your service," he replied carelessly. - -"Then at daylight to-morrow morning I shall make settlement." Ricardo -beckoned his men to approach. "Take this man and confine him under a -double guard in the arsenal," he ordered. "Present my compliments to -the officer in charge there and tell him it is my wish that a priest be -provided for the prisoner to-night, and that to-morrow morning, at -six o'clock, a detail of six men and a sergeant escort this man to the -cemetery in the rear of the Catedral de la Cruz. I will meet the detail -there and take command of it." - -Two of Ricardo's imported fighting men stepped to the prisoner's side, -seized him, one by each arm, and lifted him to his feet; supported -between them, he limped away to his doom, while his youthful conqueror -remained seated on the dead horse, his gaze bent upon the ground, his -mind dwelling, not upon his triumph over Sarros but upon the prodigious -proportions of the task before him: the rehabilitation of a nation. -After a while he rose and strolled over toward the gate, where he paused -to note the grim evidences of the final stand of Webster and Don Juan -Cafetro before passing through the portal. . - -Ricardo had now, for the first time, an opportunity to look around him; -so he halted to realize his homecoming, to thrill with this, the first -real view of the home of his boyhood. The spacious lawn surrounding the -palace had been plowed and scarred with bursting shrapnel from the field -guns captured in the arsenal, although the building itself had been -little damaged, not having sustained a direct hit because of Ricardo's -stringent orders not to use artillery on the palace unless absolutely -necessary to smoke Sarros out. Scattered over the grounds Ricardo -counted some twenty-odd Government soldiers, all wearing that -pathetically flat, crumpled appearance which seems inseparable from -the bodies of men killed in action. The first shrapnel had probably -commenced to drop in the grounds just as a portion of the palace -garrison had been marching out to join the troops fighting at the -cantonment barracks. Evidently the men had scattered like quail, only to -be killed as they ran. - -From this grim scene Ricardo raised his eyes to the palace, the -castellated towers of which, looming through the tufted palms, were -reflecting the setting sun. Over the balustrade of one of the upper -balconies the limp body of a Sarros sharpshooter, picked off from the -street, drooped grotesquely, his arms hanging downward as if in ironical -welcome to the son of Ruey the Beloved. The sight induced in Ricardo a -sense of profound sadness; his Irish imagination awoke; to him that mute -figure seemed to call upon him for pity, for kindness, for forbearance, -for understanding and sympathy. Those outflung arms of the martyred peon -symbolized to Ricardo Ruey the spirit of liberty, shackled and helpless, -calling upon him for deliverance; they brought to his alert mind a -clearer realization of the duty that was his than he had ever had -before. He had a great task to perform, a task inaugurated by his -father, and which Ricardo could not hope to finish in his lifetime. -He must solve the agrarian problem; he must develop the rich natural -resources of his country; he must provide free, compulsory education and -evolve from the ignorance of the peon an intelligence that would built -up that which Sobrante, in common with her sister republics, so woefully -lacked--the great middle class that stands always as a buffer between -the aggression and selfishness of the upper class and the helplessness -and childishness of the lower. - -Ricardo bowed his head. "Help me, O Lord," he prayed. "Thou hast give -me in Thy wisdom a man's task. Help me that I may not prove unworthy." - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII - -|MOTHER JENKS, grown impatient at the lack of news concerning Webster, -left Dolores to her grief in the room across the hall and sought the -open air, for of late she had been experiencing with recurring frequency -a slight feeling of suffocation. She sat down on the broad granite -steps, helped herself to a much-needed "bracer" from her brandy flask -and was gazing pensively at the scene around her when Ricardo came up -the stairs. - -"'Elio!" Mother Jenks saluted him. "W'ere 'ave you been, Mr. Bowers?" - -"I have just returned from capturing Sarros, Mrs. Jenks. He is on his -way to the arsenal under guard." - -"Gor' strike me pink!" the old lady cried. "'Ave I lived to see this -day!" Her face was wreathed in a happy smile. "I wonder 'ow the beggar -feels to 'ave the shoe on the other foot, eh--the'eartless'ound! -I'm 'opin' this General Ruey will 'ave the blighter shot." - -"You need have no worry on that score, Mrs. Jenks. I'm General Ruey. -Andrew Bowers was just my summer name, as it were." - -"Angels guard me! Wot the bloomin' 'ell surprise won't we 'ave next. Wot -branch o' the Ruey tribe do you belong to? Are you a nephew o' him that -was president before Sarros shot 'im? Antonio Ruey, who was 'arf brother -to the president, 'ad a son 'e called Ricardo. Are you 'im, might I -arsk?" - -"I am the son of Ricardo the Beloved," he answered proudly. - -"Not the lad as was away at school when 'is father was hexecuted?" - -"I am that same lad, Mrs. Jenks. And who are you? You seem to know a -deal of my family history." - -"I," the old publican replied with equal pride, "am Mrs. Colonel 'Enery -Jenks, who was your father's chief of hartillery an' 'ad the hextreme -honour o' dyin' in front o' the same wall with 'im. By the w'y, 'ow's -Mr. Webster?" she added, suddenly remembering the subject closest to her -heart just then. - -"His wounds are trifling. He'll live, Mrs. Jenks." - -"Well, that's better than gettin' poked in the eye with a sharp stick," -the old dame decided philosophically. - -"Do you remember my little sister, Mrs. Jenks?" Ricardo continued. "She -was in the palace when Sarros attacked it; she perished there." - -"I believe I 'ave got a slight recollection o' the nipper, sir," Mother -Jenks answered cautiously. To herself she said: "I s'y, 'Enrietta, -'ere's a pretty go. 'E don't know the lamb is livin' an' in the next -room! My word, wot a riot w'en 'e meets 'er!" - -"I will see you again, Mrs. Jenks. I must have a long talk with you," -Ricardo told her, and passed on into the palace; whereupon Mother Jenks -once more fervently implored the Almighty to strike her pink, and the -iron restraint of a long, hard, exciting day being relaxed at last, the -good soul bowed her gray head in her arms and wept, moving her body from -side to side the while and demanding, of no one in particular, a single -legitimate reason why she, a blooming old baggage and not fit to live, -should be the recipient of such manifold blessings as this day had -brought forth. - -In the meantime Ricardo, with his hand on the knob of the door leading -to the room where Webster was having his wounds dressed, paused -suddenly, his attention caught by the sound of a sob, long-drawn and -inexpressibly pathetic. He listened and made up his mind that a woman in -the room across the entrance-hall was bewailing the death of a loved -one who answered to the name of Caliph and John darling. Further -eavesdropping convinced him that Caliph, John darling, and Mr. John -Stuart Webster were one and the same person, and so he tilted his head -on one side like a cock-robin and considered. - -"By jingo, that's most interesting," he decided. "The wounded hero has -a sweetheart or a wife--and an American, too. She must be a recent -acquisition, because all the time we were together on the steamer -coming down here he never spoke of either, despite the fact that we got -friendly enough for such confidences. Something funny about this. I'd -better sound the old boy before I start passing out words of comfort to -that unhappy female." - -He passed on into the room. John Stuart Webster had, by this time, -been washed and bandaged, and one of the Sarros servants (for the -ex-dictator's retinue still occupied the palace) had, at Doctor -Pacheco's command, prepared a guest-chamber upstairs and furnished a -nightgown of ample proportions to cover Mr. Webster's bebandaged but -otherwise naked person. A stretcher had just arrived, and the wounded -man was about to be carried upstairs. The late financial backer of the -revolution was looking very pale and dispirited; for once in his life -his whimsical, bantering nature was subdued. His eyes were closed, and -he did not open them when Ricardo entered. - -"Well, I have Sarros," the latter declared. Webster paid not the -slightest attention to this announcement. Ricardo bent over him. "Jack, -old boy," he queried, "do you know a person of feminine persuasion who -calls you Caliph?" - -John Stuart Webster's eyes and mouth flew wide open. "What the devil!" -he tried to roar. "You haven't been speaking to her, have you? If you -have, I'll never forgive you, because you've spoiled my little surprise -party." - -"No, I haven't been speaking to her, but she's in the next room crying -fit to break her heart because she thinks you've been killed." - -"You scoundrel! Aren't you human? Go tell her it's only a couple of -punctures, not a blowout." He sighed. "Isn't it sweet of her to weep -over an old hunks like me!" he added softly. "Bless her tender heart!" - -"Who is she?" Ricardo was very curious. - -"That's none of your business. You wait and I'll tell you. She's the -guest I told you I was going to bring to dinner, and that's enough for -you to know for the present. _Vaya_, you idiot, and bring her in here, -so I can assure her my head is bloody but unbowed. Doctor, throw -that rug over my shanks and make me look pretty. I'm going to receive -company." - -His glance, bent steadily on the door, had in it some of the alert, -bright wistfulness frequently to be observed in the eyes of a terrier -standing expectantly before a rat-hole. The instant the door opened and -Dolores's tear-stained face appeared, he called to her with the old-time -camaraderie, for he had erased from his mind, for the nonce, the memory -of the tragedy of poor Don Juan Cafetro and was concerned solely with -the task of banishing the tears from those brown eyes and bringing the -joy of life back to that sweet face. - -"Hello, Seeress," he called weakly. "Little Johnny's been fighting -again, and the bad boys gave him an all-fired walloping." - -There was a swift rustle of skirts, and she was bending over him, her -hot little palms clasping eagerly his pale, rough cheeks. "Oh, my dear, -my dear!" she whispered, and then her voice choked with the happy tears -and she was sobbing on his wounded shoulder. Ricardo stooped to draw her -away, but John Stuart bent upon him a look of such frightfulness that he -drew back abashed. After all, the past twenty-four hours had been quite -exciting, and Ricardo reflected that John's inamorata was tired and -frightened and probably hadn't eaten anything all day long, so there was -ample excuse for her hysteria. - -"Come, come, buck up," Webster soothed her, and helped himself to a long -whiff of her fragrant hair. "Old man Webster had one leg in the grave, -but they've pulled it out again." - -Still she sobbed. - -"Now, listen to me, lady," he commanded with mock severity. "You just -stop that. You're wasting your sympathy; and while, of course, I enjoy -your sympathy a heap, just pause to reflect on the result if those salt -tears should happen to drop into one of my numerous wounds." - -"I'm so sorry for you, Caliph," she murmured brokenly. "You poor, -harmless boy! I don't see how any one could be so fiendish as to hurt -you when you were so distinctly a non-combatant." - -"Thank you. Let us forget the Hague Conference for the present, however. -Have you met your brother?" he whispered. - -"No, Caliph." - -"Ricardo." - -"Yes, Jack." - -"Come here. Rick, you scheming, unscrupulous, bloodthirsty adventurer, -I have a tremendous surprise in store for you. The sweetest girl in the -world--and she's right here----" - -Ricardo laughingly held up his hand. "Jack, my friend," he interrupted, -"you're too weak to make a speech. Don't do it. Besides, you do not have -to." He turned and bowed gracefully to Dolores. "I can see for myself -she's the sweetest girl in the world, and that she's right here." He -held out his hand to her. "Jack thinks he's going to spring a surprise," -he continued maliciously, "quite forgetting that a good soldier never -permits himself to be taken by surprise. I know all about his little -secret, because I heard you mourning for him when you thought he was -dead." Ricardo favoured her with a knowing wink. "I am delighted to meet -the future Mrs. Webster. I quite understand why you fell in love with -him, because, you see, I love him myself and do does everybody else." - -With typical Castilian courtliness he took her hand, bowed low over it, -and kissed it. "I am Ricardo Luiz Ruey," he said, anxious to spare his -friend the task of further exhausting conversation. "And you are----" - -"You're a consummate jackass!" groaned Webster. "I'm only a dear old -family friend, and Dolores is going to marry Billy Geary. You impetuous -idiot! She's your own sister Dolores Ruey. She, Mark Twain, and I have -ample cause for common complaint against the world because the reports -of our death have been grossly exaggerated. She didn't perish when -your father's administration crumbled. Miss Ruey, this is your brother -Ricardo. Kiss her you damn' fool--forgive me, Miss Ruey--oh, Lord, -nothing matters any more. He's gummed everything up and ruined my party. -I wish I were dead." - -Ricardo stared from the outraged Webster to his sister and back again. - -"Jack Webster," he declared, "you aren't crazy, are you?" - -"Of course he is--the old dear," Dolores cried happily, "but I'm not." -She stepped up to her brother, and her arms went around his neck. "Oh, -Rick," she cried, "I'm your sister. Truly, I am." - -"Dolores. My little lost sister Dolores? Why, I can't believe it!" - -"Well, you'd better believe it," John Stuart Webster growled feebly. "Of -course, you can doubt my word and get away with it, now that I'm flat on -my back, but if you dare cast aspersions on that girl's veracity, I'll -murder you a month from now." - -He closed his eyes, feeling instinctively that he ought not spy on such -a sacred family scene. When, however, the affecting meeting was over and -Dolores was ruffling the Websterian foretop while her brother pressed -the Websterian hand and tried to say all the things he felt but couldn't -express, John Stuart Webster brought them both back to a realization of -present conditions. - -"Don't thank me, sir," he piped in pathetic imitation of the small boy -of melodrama. "I have only done me duty, and for that I cannot accept -this purse of gold, even though my father and mother are starving." - -"Oh, Caliph, do be serious," Dolores pleaded. - -He looked up at her fondly. "Take your brother out to Mother Jenks and -prove your case, Miss Ruey," he advised her. "And while you're at it, I -certainly hope somebody will remember I'm not accustomed to reposing on -a centre table. Rick, if you can persuade some citizen of this conquered -commonwealth to put me to bed, I'd be obliged. I'm dead tired, old -horse. I'm--ah--sleepy----" - -His head rolled weakly to one side, for he had been playing a part -and had nerved himself to finish it gracefully, even in his weakened -condition. He sighed, moaned slightly, and slipped into unconsciousness. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX - -|THROUGHOUT the night there was sporadic firing here and there in -the city, as the Ruey followers relentlessly hunted down the isolated -detachment of Government troops which had escaped annihilation and -capture in the final rout and fallen back on the city, where, concealing -themselves according to their nature and inclination, they indulged -in more or less sniping from windows and the roofs of buildings. The -practice of taking no prisoners was an old one in Sobrante, and few -presidents had done more than Sarros to keep that custom alive; ergo, -firm in the conviction that to surrender was tantamount to facing -a firing squad at daylight, the majority of these stragglers, with -consummate courage, fought to the death. - -The capture of Buenaventura was alone sufficient to insure a brief -revolution, but the capture of Sarros was ample guarantee that the -resistance to the new order of things was already at an end. However, -Ricardo Ruey felt that the prompt execution of Sarros would be an added -guarantee of peace by effectually discouraging any opposition to the -rebel cause in the outlying districts, where a few isolated garrisons -still remained in ignorance of the momentous events being enacted in -the capital. For the time being, Ricardo was master of life and death in -Sobrante, and all of his advisers and supporters agreed with him that a -so-called trial of the ex-dictator would be a rather useless affair. -His life was forfeit a hundred times for murder and treason, and to be -ponderous over his elimination would savour of mockery. Accordingly, -at midnight, a priest entered the room in the arsenal where Sarros was -confined, and shrived him. Throughout the night the priest remained with -him, and when that early morning march to the cemetery commenced, he -walked beside Sarros, repeating the prayers for the dying. - -Upon reaching the cemetery there was a slight wait until a carriage -drove up and discharged Ricardo Ruey and Mother Jenks. The sergeant in -command of the squad saluted and was briefly ordered to proceed with the -matter in hand; whereupon he turned to Sarros, who with the customary -_sang froid_ of his kind upon such occasions was calmly smoking, and -bowed deprecatingly. Sarros actually smiled upon him. "_Adios, amigos_" -he murmured. Then, as an afterthought and probably because he was -sufficient of an egoist to desire to appear a martyr, he added -heroically: "I die for my country. May God have mercy on my enemies." - -"If you'd cared to play a gentleman's game, you blighter, you might 'ave -lived for your bally country," Mother Jenks reminded him in English. -"Wonder if the beggar 'll wilt or will 'e go through smilin' like my -sainted 'Enery on the syme spot." - -She need not have worried. It requires a strong man to be dictator of -a Roman-candle republic for fifteen years, and whatever his sins of -omission or commission, Sarros did not lack animal courage. Alone and -unattended he limped away among the graves to the wall on the other -side of the cemetery and placed his back against it, negligently in -the attitude of a devil-may-care fellow without a worry in life. The -sergeant waited respectfully until Sarros had finished his cigarette; -when he tossed it away and straightened to attention, the sergeant knew -he was ready to die. At his command there was a sudden rattle of bolts -as the cartridges slid from the magazines into the breeches; there -followed a momentary halt, another command; the squad was aiming when -Ricardo Ruey called sharply: - -"Sergeant, do not give the order to fire." - -The rifles were lowered and the men gazed wonderingly at Ricardo. "He's -too brave," Ricardo complained. "Damn him, I can't kill him as I would -a mad-dog. I've got to give him a chance." The sergeant raised his brows -expressively. Ah, the _ley fuga_, that popular form of execution where -the prisoner is given a running chance, and the firing-squad practises -wing shooting If the prisoner manages, miraculously, to escape, he is -not pursued! - -A doubt, however, crossed the sergeant's mind. "But, my general," he -expostulated, "Senor Sarros cannot accept the _ley fuga_. He is very -lame. That is not giving him the chance your Excellency desires he -should have." - -"I wasn't thinking of that," Ricardo replied. "I was thinking I'm -killing him without a fair trial for the reason that he's so infernally -ripe for the gallows that a trial would have been a joke. Nevertheless, -I am really killing him because he killed my father--and that is -scarcely fair. My father was a gentleman. Sergeant, is your pistol -loaded?" - -"Yes, General." - -"Give it to Senor Sarros." - -As the sergeant started forward to comply Ricardo drew his own service -revolver and then motioned Mother Jenks and the firing-squad to stand -aside while he crossed to the centre of the cemetery. "Sarros," he -called, "I am going to let God decide which one of us shall live. When -the sergeant gives the command to fire, I shall open fire on you, and -you are free to do the same to me. Sergeant, if he kills me and escapes -unhurt, my orders are to escort him to the bay in my carriage and put -him safely aboard the steamer." - -Mother Jenks sat down on a tombstone. "Gord's truth!" she gasped, "but -there's a rare plucked 'un." Aloud she croaked: "Don't be a bally ass, -sir." - -"Silence!" he commanded. - -The sergeant handed Sarros the revolver. "You heard what I said?" -Ricardo called. - -Sarros bowed gravely. - -"You understand your orders, Sergeant?" - -"Yes, General." - -"Very well. Proceed. If this prisoner fires before you give the word, -have your squad riddle him." The sergeant backed away and gazed owlishly -from the prisoner to his captor. "Ready!" he called. Both revolvers -came up. "Fire!" he shouted, and the two shots were discharged -simultaneously. Ricardo's cap flew off his head, but he remained -standing, while Sarros staggered back against the wall and there -recovering himself gamely, fired again. He scored a clean miss, and -Ricardo's gun barked three times; Sarros sprawled on his face, rose -to his knees, raised his pistol halfway, fired into the sky and slid -forward on his face. Ricardo stood beside the body until the sergeant -approached and stood to attention, his attitude saying: - -"It is over. What next, General?" - -"Take the squad back to the arsenal, Sergeant," Ricardo ordered him -coolly, and walked back to recover his uniform cap. He was smiling as he -ran his finger through a gaping hole in the upper half of the crown. - -"Well, Mrs. Jenks," he announced when he rejoined the old lady, "that -was better than executing him with a firing-squad. I gave him a square -deal. Now his friends can never say that I murdered him." He extended -his hand to help Mother Jenks to her feet. She stood erect and felt -again that queer swelling of the heart, the old feeling of suffocation. - -"Steady, lass!" she mumbled. "'Old on to me, sir. It's my bally -haneurism. Gor'--I'm--chokin'----" - -He caught her in his arms as she lurched toward him. Her face was -purple, and in her eyes there was a queer fierce light that went out -suddenly, leaving them dull and glazed. When she commenced to sag in his -arms, he eased her gently to the ground and laid her on her back in the -grass. - -"The nipper's safe, 'Enery," he heard her murmur. "I've raised 'er a -lydy, s'elp me--she's back where--you found 'er-- 'Enery----" - -She quivered, and the light came creeping back into her eyes before it -faded forever. "Comin', 'Enery--darlin'," she whispered; and then the -soul of Mother Jenks, who had a code and lived up to it (which is more -than the majority of us do), had departed upon the ultimate journey. -Ricardo gazed down on the hard old mouth, softened now by a little -half-smile of mingled yearning and gladness: "What a wonderful soul you -had," he murmured, and kissed her. - -In the end she slept in the niche in the wall of the Catedral de la Vera -Cruz, beside her sainted 'Enery. - - - - -CHAPTER XXX - -|THREE days passed. Don Juan Cafetro had been buried with all the pomp -and circumstance of a national hero; Mother Jenks, too, had gone to -her appointed resting-place, and El Buen Amigo had been closed forever. -Ricardo had issued a proclamation announcing himself provisional -president of Sobrante; a convention of revolutionary leaders had -been held, and a provisional cabinet selected. A day for the national -elections had been named; the wreckage of the brief revolution had been -cleared away, and the wheels of government were once more revolving -freely and noiselessly. And while all of this had been going on, John -Stuart Webster had lain on his back, staring at the palace ceiling and -absolutely forbidden to receive visitors. He was still engaged in this -mild form of gymnastics on the third day when the door of his room -opened and Dolores looked in on him. - -"Good evening, Caliph," she called. "Aren't you dead yet?" - -It was exactly the tone she should have adopted to get the best results, -for Webster had been mentally and physically ill since she had seen him -last, and needed some such pleasantry as this to lift him out of his -gloomy mood. He grinned at her boyishly. - -"No, I'm not dead. On the contrary, I'm feeling real chirpy. Won't you -come in and visit for a while, Miss Ruey?" - -"Well, since you've invited me, I shall accept." Entering, she stood -beside his bed and took the hand he extended toward Her. "This is the -first opportunity I've had, Miss Ruey," he began, "to apologize for -the shock I gave you the other day. I should have come back to you as I -promised, instead of getting into a fight and scaring you half to -death. I hope you'll forgive me, because I'm paying for my fun now--with -interest." - -"Very well, Caliph. I'll forgive you--on one condition." - -"Who am I to resist having a condition imposed upon me? Name your terms. -I shall obey." - -"I'm weary of being called Miss Ruey. I want to be Dolores--to you." - -"By the toenails of Moses," he reflected, "there is no escape. She's -determined to rock the boat." Aloud he said: "All right, Dolores. I -suppose I may as well take the license of the old family friend. I guess -Bill won't mind." - -"Billy hasn't a word to say about it," she retorted, regarding him with -that calm, impersonal, yet vitally interested look that always drove him -frantic with the desire for her. - -"Well, of course, I understand that," he countered. "Naturally, since -Bill is only a man, you'll have to manage him and he'll have to take -orders." - -"Caliph, you're a singularly persistent man, once you get an idea into -your head. Please understand me, once for all: Billy Geary is a dear, -and it's a mystery to me why every girl in the world isn't perfectly -crazy about him, but every rule has its exceptions--and Billy and I are -just good friends. I'd like to know where you got the idea we're engaged -to be married." - -"Why--why--well, aren't you?" - -"Certainly not." - -"Well, you--er--you ought to be. I expected--that is, I planned--I -mean Bill told me and--and--and--er--it never occurred to me you could -possibly have the--er--crust--to refuse him. Of course you're going to -marry him when he asks you?" - -"Of course I am not." - -"Ah-h-h-h!" John Stuart Webster gazed at her in frank amazement. "Not -going to marry Bill Geary!" he cried, highly scandalized. - -"I know you think I ought to, and I suppose it will appear quite -incomprehensible to you when I do not----" - -"Why, Dolores, my dear girl! This is most amazing. Didn't Bill ask you -to marry him before he left?" - -"Yes, he did me that honour, and I declined him." - -"You _what!_" - -She smiled at him so maternally that his hand itched to drag her down to -him and kiss her curving lips. - -"Do you mind telling me just why you took this extraordinary attitude?" - -"You have no right to ask, but I'll tell you. I refused Billy because I -didn't love him enough--that way. What's more, I never could." - -He rolled his head to one side and softly, very softly, whistled -two bars of "The Spanish Cavalier" through his teeth He was properly -thunder-struck--so much so, in fact, that for a moment he actually -forgot her presence the while he pondered this most incredible state of -affairs. - -"I see it all now. It's as clear as mud," he announced finally. "You -refused poor old Bill and broke his heart, and so he went away and -hasn't had the courage to write me since. I'm afraid Bill and I both -regarded this fight as practically won--all over but the wedding-march, -as one might put it. I might as well confess I hustled the boy down -from the mine just so you two could get married and light out on your -honeymoon I figured Bill could kill two birds with one stone--have his -honeymoon and get rid of his malaria, and return here in three or four -months to relieve me, after I had the mine in operation. Poor boy. That -was a frightful song-and-dance you gave him." - -"I suspected you were the matchmaker in this case. I must say I think -you're old enough to know better, Caliph John." - -"You did, eh? Well, what made you think so?" - -She chuckled. "Oh, you're very obvious--to a woman." - -"I forgot that you reveal the past and foretell the future." - -"You are really very clumsy, Caliph. You should never try to direct the -destiny of any woman." - -"I'm on the sick list," he pleaded, "and it isn't sporting of you to -discuss me. You're healthy--so let us discuss you. Dolores, do you -figure Bill's case to be absolutely hopeless?" - -"Absolutely, Caliph." - -"Hum-m-m!" - -Again Webster had recourse to meditation, seeing which, Dolores walked -to the pier-glass in the corner, satisfied herself that her coiffure was -just so and returned to his side, singing softly a little song that had -floated out over the transom of Webster's room door into the hall one -night:= - -````A Spanish cavalier, - -````Went out to rope a steer, - -````Along with his paper _cigar-r-ro!_ - -````"_Caramba!_" said he. - -````"_Manana_ you will be - -````_Much bueno carne por mio_"= - -He turned his head and looked up at her suddenly, searchingly. "Is -there anybody else in Bill's way?" he demanded. "I admit it's none of my -business, but-------" - -"Yes, Caliph, there is some one else." - -"I thought so." This rather viciously. "I'm willing to gamble a hundred -to one, sight unseen, that whoever he is, he isn't half the man Bill -is." - -"That," she replied coldly, "is a matter of personal opinion." - -"And Bill's clock is fixed for keeps?' - -"Yes, Caliph. And he never had a chance from the start." - -"Why not?" - -"Well, I met the other man first, Caliph." - -"Oh! Do you mind telling me what this other man does for a living?" - -"He's a mining man, like Billy." - -"All right! Has the son of a horsethief got a mine like Bill's? That's -something to consider, Dolores." - -"He has a mine fully as good as Billy's. Like Billy, he owns a half -interest in it, too." - -"Hum-m-m! How long have you known him?" - -"Not very long." - -"Be sure you're right--then go ahead," John Stuart Webster warned her. -"Don't marry in haste and repent at leisure, Dolores. Know your man -before you let him buy the wedding ring. There's a heap of difference, -my dear, between sentiment and sentimentality." - -"I'm sure of my man, Caliph." - -He was silent again, thinking rapidly. "Well, of course," he began again -presently, "while there was the slightest possibility of Bill winning -you, I would have died before saying that which I am about to say to you -now, Dolores, because Bill is my friend, and I'd never double-cross -him. With reference to this other man, however, I have no such code to -consider. I'm pretty well convinced I'm out of the running, but I'll -give that lad a race if it's the last act of my life. He's a stranger -to me, and he isn't on the job to protect his claim, so why shouldn't I -stake it if I can? But are you quite certain you aren't making a grave -mistake in refusing Billy? He's quite a boy, my dear. I know him from -soul to suspenders, and he'd be awfully good to you. He's kind and -gentle and considerate, and he's not a mollycoddle, either." - -"I can't help it, Caliph. Please don't talk about him any more. I know -somebody who is kinder and nobler and gentler." She ceased abruptly, -fearful of breaking down her reserve and saying too much. - -"Well, if Bill's case is hopeless"--his hand came groping for hers, -while he held her with his searching, wistful glance--"I wonder what -mine looks like. That is, Dolores, I--I----' - -"Yes, John?" - -"I've played fair with my friend," he whispered eagerly. "I'm not going -to ask you to marry me, but I want to tell you that to me you're such -a very wonderful woman I can't help loving you with my whole heart and -soul.' - -"I have suspected this, John," she replied gravely. - -"I suppose so. I'm such an obvious old fool. I've had my dream, and I've -put it behind me, but I--I just want you to know I love you; so long as -I live, I shall want to serve you when you're married to this other man, -and things do not break just right for you both--if I have something he -wants, in order to make you happy, I want you to know it's yours to give -to him. I--I--I guess that's all, Dolores." - -"Thank you, John. Would you like to know this man I'm going to marry?" - -"Yes, I think I'd like to congratulate the scoundrel." - -"Then I'll introduce you to him, John. I first met him on a train in -Death Valley, California. He was a shaggy old dear, all whiskers and -rags, but his whiskers couldn't hide his smile, and his rags couldn't -hide his manhood, and when he thrashed a drummer because the man annoyed -me, I just couldn't help falling in love with him. Even when he fibbed -to me and disputed my assertion that we had met before----" - -"Good land of love--and the calves got loose!" he almost shouted as he -held up his one sound arm to her. "My dear, my dear----" - -"Oh, sweetheart," she whispered laying her hot cheek against his, "it's -taken you so long to say it, but I love you all the more for the dear -thoughts that made you hesitate." - -He was silent a few moments, digesting his amazement, speechless with -the great happiness that was his--and then Dolores was kissing the back -of the hand of that helpless, bandaged arm lying across his breast. He -had a tightening in his throat, for he had not expected love; and that -sweet, benignant, humble little kiss spelled adoration and eternal -surrender; when she looked at him again the mists of joy were in his -eyes. - -"Dear old Caliph John!" she crooned. "He's never had a woman to -understand his funny ways and appreciate them and take care of him, has -he?" She patted his cheek. "And bless his simple old heart, he would -rather give up his love than be false to his friend. Yes, indeed. Johnny -Webster respects 'No Shooting' signs when he sees them, but he tells -fibs and pretends to be very stupid when he really isn't. So you -wouldn't be false to Billy--eh, dear? I'm glad to know that, because the -man who cannot be false to his friend can never be false to his wife." - -He crushed her down to him and held her there for a long time. "My -dear," he said presently, "isn't there something you have to say to me?" - -"I love you, John," she whispered, and sealed the sweet confession with -a true lover's kiss. - -"All's well with the world," John Stuart Webster announced when he could -use his lips once more for conversation. "And," he added, "owing to the -fact that I started a trifle late in life, I believe I could stand a -little more of the same." - -The door opened and Ricardo looked in on them. "Killjoy!" Webster -growled. "Old Killjoy the Thirteenth, King of Sobrante. Is this a -surprise to you?" - -"Not a bit of it, Jack. I knew it was due." - -"Am I welcome in the Ruey family?" - -Ricardo came over and kissed his sister. "Don't be a lobster, Jack," he -protested. "I dislike foolish questions." And he pressed his friend's -hand with a fervour that testified to his pleasure. - -"I'm sorry to crowd in at a time like this, Jack," he continued, with a -hug for Dolores, "but Mr. What-you-may-call-him, the American consul, -has called to pay his respects. As a fellow-citizen of yours, he is -vitally interested in your welfare. Would you care to receive him for a -few minutes?" - -"One minute will do," Webster declared with emphasis. "Show the human -slug up, Rick." - -Mr. Lemuel Tolliver tripped breezily in with outstretched hand. "My -dear Mr. Webster," he began, but Webster cut him short with a peremptory -gesture. - -"Listen, friend Tolliver," he said. "The only reason I received you was -to tell you I'm going to remain in this country awhile and help develop -it. I may even conclude to grow up with it. I shall not, of course, -renounce my American citizenship; and of course, as an American citizen, -I am naturally interested in the man my country sends to Sobrante to -represent it. I might as well be frank and tell you that you won't do. -I called on you once to do your duty, and you weren't there; I told you -then I might have something to say about your job later on, and now I'm -due to say it. Mr. Tolliver, I'm the power behind the throne in this -little Jim-crow country, and to quote your own elegant phraseology, -you, as American consul, are _nux vomica_ to the Sobrantean government. -Moreover, as soon as the Sobrantean ambassador reaches Washington, he's -going to tell the President that you are, and then the President will -be courteous enough to remove you. In the meantime, fare thee well, Mr. -Consul." - -"But, Mr. Webster----" - -"_Vaya!_" - -Mr. Tolliver, appreciating the utter futility of argument, bowed and -departed. - -"Verily, life grows sweeter with each passing day," Webster murmured -whimsically. "Rick, old man, I think you had better escort the Consul to -the front door. Your presence is _nux vomica_ to me also. See that you -back me up and dispose of that fellow Tolliver, or you can't come to our -wedding--can he, sweetheart?" - -When Ricardo had taken his departure, laughing, John Stuart Webster -looked up quite seriously at his wife-to-be. "Can you explain to me, -Dolores," he asked, "how it happened that your relatives and your -father's old friends here in Sobrante, whom you met shortly after your -arrival, never informed you that Ricardo was living?" - -"They didn't know any more about him than I did, and he left here as -a mere boy. He was scarcely acquainted with his relatives, all of -whom bowed quite submissively to the Sarros yoke. Indeed, my father's -half-brother, Antonio Ruey, actually accepted a portfolio under the -Sarros rgime and held it up to his death. Ricardo has a wholesome -contempt for his relatives, and as for his father's old friends, none -of them knew anything about his plans. Apparently his identity was -known only to the Sarros intelligence bureau, and it did not permit the -information to leak out." - -"Funny mix-up," he commented. "And by the way, where did you get all the -inside dope about Neddy Jerome?" - -She laughed and related to him the details of Neddy's perfidy. - -"And you actually agreed to deliver me, hog-tied and helpless to that -old schemer, Dolores?" - -"Why not, dear. I loved you; I always meant to marry you, if you'd let -me; and ten thousand dollars would have lasted me for pin money a long -time." - -"Well, you and Neddy have both lost out. Better send the old pelican a -cable and wake him out of his day-dream." - -"I sent the cable yesterday, John dear." - -"Extraordinary woman!" - -"I've just received an answer. Neddy has spent nearly fifty dollars -telling me by cable what a fine man you are and how thankful I ought to -be to the good Lord for permitting you to marry me." - -"Dolores, you are perfectly amazing. I only proposed to you a minute -ago." - -"I know you did, slow-poke, but that is not your fault. You would have -proposed to me yesterday, only I thought best not to disturb you until -you were a little stronger. This evening, however, I made up my mind to -settle the matter, and so I----" - -"But suppose I hadn't proposed to you, after all?" - -"Then, John, I should have proposed to you, I fear." - -"But you were running an awful risk, sending that telegram to Neddy -Jerome." - -She took one large red ear in each little hand and shook his head -lovingly. "Silly," she whispered, "don't be a goose. I knew you loved -me; I would have known it, even if Neddy Jerome hadn't told me so. So I -played a safe game all the way through, and oh, dear Caliph John, I'm so -happy I could cry." - -"God bless my mildewed soul," John Stuart Webster murmured helplessly. -The entire matter was quite beyond his comprehension! - -THE END - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Webster--Man's Man, by Peter B. 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Kyne - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> - - body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} - P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } - H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } - hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} - .foot { margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%; text-align: justify; font-size: 80%; font-style: italic;} - blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} - .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} - .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} - .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} - .xx-small {font-size: 60%;} - .x-small {font-size: 75%;} - .small {font-size: 85%;} - .large {font-size: 115%;} - .x-large {font-size: 130%;} - .indent5 { margin-left: 5%;} - .indent10 { margin-left: 10%;} - .indent15 { margin-left: 15%;} - .indent20 { margin-left: 20%;} - .indent30 { margin-left: 30%;} - .indent40 { margin-left: 40%;} - div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } - div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } - .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} - .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} - .pagenum {position: absolute; right: 1%; font-size: 0.6em; - font-variant: normal; font-style: normal; - text-align: right; background-color: #FFFACD; - border: 1px solid; padding: 0.3em;text-indent: 0em;} - .side { float: left; font-size: 75%; width: 15%; padding-left: 0.8em; - border-left: dashed thin; text-align: left; - text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; - font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} - .head { float: left; font-size: 90%; width: 98%; padding-left: 0.8em; - border-left: dashed thin; text-align: center; - text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; - font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} - p.pfirst, p.noindent {text-indent: 0} - span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 0.8 } - pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} - -</style> - </head> - <body> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Webster--Man's Man, by Peter B. Kyne - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Webster--Man's Man - -Author: Peter B. Kyne - -Illustrator: Dean Cornwell - -Release Date: May 3, 2016 [EBook #51987] -Last Updated: March 12, 2018 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WEBSTER--MAN'S MAN *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - - - - - -</pre> - <div style="height: 8em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h1> - WEBSTER—MAN'S MAN - </h1> - <h2> - By Peter B. Kyne - </h2> - <h4> - Author Of “Cappy Ricks” “The Three Godfathers,” - Etc. - </h4> - <h3> - Illustrated By Dean Cornwell - </h3> - <h4> - New York - </h4> - <h4> - Doubleday, Page & Company - </h4> - <h3> - 1917 - </h3> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0006.jpg" alt="0006 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0006.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0007.jpg" alt="0007 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0007.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <p> - <b>CONTENTS</b> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>WEBSTER—MAN'S MAN</b> </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX </a> - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h1> - WEBSTER—MAN'S MAN - </h1> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER I - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>HEN John Stuart - Webster, mining engineer and kicker-up-of-dust on distant trails, flagged - the S. P., L. A. & S. L. Limited at a blistered board station in Death - Valley, California, he had definitely resolved to do certain things. To - begin, he would invade the dining car at the first call to dinner and - order approximately twenty dollars' worth of ham and eggs, which - provender is, as all who know will certify, the pinnacle of epicurean - delight to an old sour-dough coming out of the wilderness with a healthy - bankroll and a healthier appetite; for even as the hydrophobic dog avoids - water, so does the adventurer of the Webster type avoid the weird - concoctions of high-priced French chefs until he has first satisfied that - void which yawns to receive ham and eggs. - </p> - <p> - Following the ham and eggs, Mr. Webster planned to saturate himself from - soul to vermiform appendix with nicotine, which he purposed obtaining from - tobacco with nicotine in it. It was a week since he had smoked anything, - and months since he had tasted anything with an odour even remotely like - tobacco, for the August temperature in Death Valley is no respecter of - moisture in any man or his tobacco. By reason of the fact that he had not - always dwelt in Death Valley, however, John Stuart Webster knew the - dining-car steward would have in the ice chest some wonderful cigars, - wonderfully preserved. - </p> - <p> - Webster realized that, having sampled civilization thus far, his debauch - would be at an end until he reached Salt Lake City-unless, indeed, he - should find aboard the train something fit to read or somebody worth - talking to. Upon arrival in Salt Lake City, however, his spree would - really begin. Immediately upon leaving the train he would proceed to a - clothing shop and purchase a twenty-five-dollar ready-to-wear suit, - together with the appurtenances thereunto pertaining or in any wise - belonging. These habiliments he would wear just long enough to shop in - respectably and without attracting the attention of the passing throng; - and when later his “tailor-mades” and sundry other finery - should be delivered, he would send the store clothes to one Ubehebe Henry, - a prospector down in the Mojave country, who would appreciate them and - wear them when he came to town in the fall to get drunk. - </p> - <p> - Having arranged for the delivery of his temporary attire at the best hotel - in town, Webster designed chartering a taxicab and proceeding forthwith to - that hotel, where he would engage a sunny room with a bath, fill the - bathtub, climb blithely in and soak for two hours at least, for it was - nearly eight months since he had had a regular bath and he purposed making - the most of his opportunity. His long-drawn ablutions at length over, he - would don a silken dressing gown and slippers, order up a barber, and - proceed to part with enough hair and whiskers to upholster an automobile; - and upon the completion of his tonsorial adventures he would encase his - person in a suit of mauve-coloured silk pajamas, climb into bed and stay - there for forty-eight hours, merely waking long enough to take another - bath, order up periodical consignments of ham and eggs and, incidentally, - make certain that a friendly side-winder or chuck-walla hadn't - crawled under the blankets with him. - </p> - <p> - So much for John Stuart Webster's plans. Now for the gentleman - himself. No one—not even the Pullman porter, shrewd judge of mankind - that he was—could have discerned in the chrysalis that flagged the - Limited the butterfly of fashion that was to be. As the ebony George - raised the vestibule platform, opened the car door and looked out, he had - no confidence in the lean, sun-baked big man standing by the train. - Plainly the fellow was not a first-class passenger but a wandering - prospector, for he was dog-dirty, a ruin of rags and hairy as a tarantula. - The only clean thing about him was a heavy-calibred automatic pistol of - the army type, swinging at his hip. - </p> - <p> - “Day coach an' tourist up in front,” the knight of the - whiskbroom announced in disapproving tones and started to close down the - platform. - </p> - <p> - “So I perceived,” John Stuart Webster replied blandly. “I - also observed that you failed to employ the title <i>sir</i> when - addressing a white man. Put that platform back and hop out here with your - little stool, you saddle-coloured son of Senegambia, or I'll make - you a hard porter to catch.” - </p> - <p> - “Yassah, yassah!” the porter sputtered, and obeyed instantly. - Mr. Webster handed him a disreputable-looking suitcase and stepped aboard - in state, only to be informed by the sleeping-car conductor that there - wasn't a vacant first-class berth on the train. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I know I'm dirty,” the late arrival announced - cheerfully, “but still, as Bobby Burns once remarked, 'a man's - a man for a' that'—and I'm <i>not</i> unsanitary. - I sloshed around some in Furnace Creek the night before last, and while of - course I got the top layer off, still, a fellow can't accomplish a - great deal without hot water, soap, a good scrubbing-brush and a can of - lye.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm very sorry,” the conductor replied perfunctorily - and endeavoured to pass on, but Webster secured a firm grip on his lapel - and frustrated the escape. - </p> - <p> - “You're not sorry,” the ragged wanderer declared, - “not one little bit. You're only apprehensive. However, you - needn't be. There is no wild life on me, brother, I assure you. If - you can prove it, I'll give you a thousand-dollar bill for each and - every bit of testimony you can adduce.” - </p> - <p> - “But I tell you, the train is full up. You'll have to roost in - the daycoach or the tourist. I'm very sorry——” - </p> - <p> - “So am I, for I know what daycoaches and tourist-cars smell like in - the middle of August, because, as the poet says, I've been there - many a time and oft.' Nevertheless, despite your deep grief, - something tells me you're spoofing, so while I must, of necessity, - accept your suggestion, said acceptance will be but temporary. In about - two hours, young fellow, you're going to make the alarming discovery - that you have bats in your belfry.” And with a whiskery grin which, - under the circumstances, was charming in its absolute freedom from malice, - Mr. Webster departed for the daycoach. - </p> - <p> - Two hours later the conductor found him in the aforementioned daycoach, - engaged in a mild game of poker with a mule-skinner, a Chinaman, an aged - prospector, and a half-breed Indian, and waited until Mr. Webster, on a - bob-tailed club flush, bluffed the Chinaman out of a dollar-and-a-half - pot. - </p> - <p> - “Maud, Lily, and Kate!” Webster murmured, as the Celestial - laid down three queens and watched his ragged opponent rake in the pot. - “Had I held those three queens and had you made a two-card draw as I - did, only death could have stopped me from seeing what you held! Hello! - Here's Little Boy Blue again. All right, son. Blow your horn.” - </p> - <p> - “Are you Mr. John S. Webster?” - </p> - <p> - “Your assumption that I am that person is so eminently correct that - it would be a waste of time for me to dispute it,” Webster replied - quizzically. “However, just to prove that you're not the only - clairvoyant on this train, I'm going to tell <i>you</i> something - about <i>yourself</i>. In your pocket you have a telegram; it is from - Chicago, where your pay-check originates; it is a short, sweet, and - comprehensive, containing an order which you are going to obey. It reads - somewhat as follows: - </p> - <p> - “'My friend, John S. Webster, wires me from Blank that he - boarded train at Blank and was refused first-class accommodation because - he looked like a hobo. Give him the best you have in stock, if you have to - throw somebody off the train to accommodate him. Unless you see your way - clear to heed this suggestion your resignation is not only in order but - has already been accepted.' Signed, 'Sweeney.' - </p> - <p> - “Do I hit the target?” - </p> - <p> - The conductor nodded. “You win, Mr. Webster,” he admitted. - </p> - <p> - “Occasionally I lose, old-timer. Well?” - </p> - <p> - “Who the devil is Sweeney?” - </p> - <p> - John Stuart Webster turned to his cosmopolitan comrades of the national - game. “Listen to him,” he entreated them. “He has worked - for the company, lo, these many years, and he doesn't know who - Sweeney is?” He eyed the conductor severely. “Sweeney,” - he declared, “is the man who is responsible for the whichness of the - why-for. Ignorance of the man higher up excuses no sleeping-car conductor, - and if your job is gone when you reach Salt Lake, old-timer, don't - blame it on me, but rather on your distressing propensity to ask foolish - questions. <i>Vamos, amigo</i>, and leave me to my despair. Can't - you see I'm happy here?” - </p> - <p> - “No offense, Mr. Webster, no offense. I can let you have a stateroom——” - </p> - <p> - “That's trading talk. I'll take it.” - </p> - <p> - The conductor gave him his receipt and led him back to the stateroom in - the observation-car. At the door Webster handed him a five-dollar bill. - “For you, son,” he said gently, “just to take the sting - out of what I'm about to tell you. Now that I possess your receipt - and know that ten men and a boy cannot take it away from me, I'm - going to tell you who Sweeney is.” - </p> - <p> - “Who is he?” the conductor queried. Already he suspected he - had been outgeneralled. - </p> - <p> - “Sweeney,” said Mr. Webster, “is the chief clerk in one - of Chicago's most pretentious hotels and a young man who can find - all the angles of a situation without working it out in logarithms. I - wired him the details of my predicament; he heard the Macedonian cry and - kicked in. Neat, is it not?” - </p> - <p> - The conductor grinned. “I hate to take your money,” he - declared. - </p> - <p> - “Don't. Just at present I'm very flush. Yes, sir, I'm - as prosperous as a yearling burro up to his ears in alfalfa, and the only - use I have ever found for money is to make other people happy with it, - thereby getting some enjoyment out of it myself. Just as soon as I get a - little chunk together, some smarter man than I takes it all away from me - again—so the cleaning process might just as well start here. When I'm - broke I'll make some more.” - </p> - <p> - “How?” - </p> - <p> - “By remembering that all a man needs in this world, in order to - excel, is about two per cent, more courage than a jack-rabbit; also that - an ounce of promotion in a world of boobs is worth a ton of perspiration. - Thank you for falling for my bluff.” - </p> - <p> - And having wotted the which, Mr. Webster retired to his hard-won - sanctuary, where he removed as much alkali and perspiration as he could, - carded his long hair and whiskers, manicured his finger nails with a - jack-knife, changed his shirt, provided five minutes of industry for - George, with his whiskbroom and brush, and set himself patiently to await - the first call to dinner. - </p> - <p> - The better to hear the dinner call Webster left his stateroom door open, - and presently a pink-jowled, well-curried, flashily dressed big man, of - about Webster's age, passed in the corridor, going toward the head - of the train. An instant later a woman's voice said very distinctly: - </p> - <p> - “I do not know you, sir; I do not wish to know you, and it is - loathsome of you to persist in addressing me. If you do not stop your - annoying attentions, I shall call the conductor.” - </p> - <p> - “Ah! Beauty in distress,” John Stuart Webster soliloquized. - “I look so much like an Angora goat I might as well butt in.” - He stepped to the door of his stateroom. A girl stood in the vestibule, - confronting the man who had just passed Webster's door. Webster - bowed. - </p> - <p> - “Madame, or mademoiselle, as the case may be,” he said, - “unlike this other male biped, my sole purpose in presuming to - address you is to suggest that there is not the slightest necessity for - taking this matter up with the conductor. I am here and very much at your - service.” - </p> - <p> - The girl turned—and John Stuart Webster's heart flopped twice - in rapid succession, like a trout newly grassed. She was as lovely as a - royal flush. Her starry glance began at his miner's boots, travelled - up his old, soiled, whipcord trousers, over his light blue chambray shirt - and found the man behind the whiskers. She favoured him with a quick, - curious scrutiny and a grave, sweet smile. “Thank you so much, sir,” - she answered, and passed down the corridor to the observation-car. - </p> - <p> - “Well, old-timer,” Webster greeted the fellow who had been - annoying her, “how about you? What do you think we ought to do about - this little affair?” - </p> - <p> - “The sensible thing would be to do—nothing.” - </p> - <p> - “Nothing?” - </p> - <p> - “Nothing.” - </p> - <p> - “Why?” - </p> - <p> - “You might start something you couldn't finish.” - </p> - <p> - “That's a dare,” Webster declared brightly, “and - wasn't it the immortal <i>Huckleberry Finn</i> who remarked that - anybody that'd take a dare would suck eggs and steal sheep?” - He caressed his beard meditatively. “They say the good Lord made man - to His own image and likeness. I take it those were only the - specifications for the building complete—the painting and interior - decorating, not to mention the furnishings, being let to a sub-contractor.” - He was silent a few seconds, appraising his man. “I suppose you - commenced operations by moving into her section and asking if she would - like to have the window open and enjoy the fresh air. Of course if she had - wanted the window open, she would have called the porter. She rebuffed - you, but being a persistent devil, you followed her into the - observation-car, and in all probability you ogled her at luncheon and - ruined her appetite. And just now, when you met her in this vestibule, you - doubtless jostled her, begged her pardon and without waiting to be - introduced asked her to have dinner with you this evening.” - </p> - <p> - “Well?” the fellow echoed belligerently. - </p> - <p> - “It's all bad form. You shouldn't try to make a mash on - a lady. I don't know who she is, of course, but she's not - common; she's travelling without a chaperon, I take it, and for the - sake of the mother that bore me I always respect and protect a good woman - and whale hell out of those that do not.” - </p> - <p> - He reached inside his stateroom and pressed the bell. The porter arrived - on the run. - </p> - <p> - “George,” said Mr. Webster, “in a few minutes we're - due at Smithville. If my memory serves me aright, we stop five minutes for - water and orders.” - </p> - <p> - “Yassah.” - </p> - <p> - “Remain right here and let me off as soon as the train comes to a - stop.” - </p> - <p> - When the train slid to a grinding halt and the porter opened the car door, - Webster pointed. - </p> - <p> - “Out!” he said. “This is no nice place to pull off a - scrap.” - </p> - <p> - “See here, neighbour, I don't want to have any trouble with - you——” - </p> - <p> - “I know it. All the same, you're going to have it—or - come with me to that young lady and beg her pardon.” - </p> - <p> - There are some things in this world which the most craven of men will not - do—and the vanity of that masher forbade acceptance of Webster's - alternative. He preferred to fight, but—he did not purpose being - thrashed. He resolved on strategy. - </p> - <p> - “All right. I'll apologize,” he declared, and started - forward as if to pass Webster in the vestibule, on his way to the - observation-car, whither the subject of his annoying attentions had gone. - Two steps brought him within striking distance of his enemy, and before - Webster could dodge, a sizzling righthanded blow landed on his jaw and set - him back on his haunches in the vestibule. - </p> - <p> - It was almost a knockout—almost, but not quite. As Webster's - body struck the floor the big automatic came out of the holster; swinging - in a weak circle, it covered the other. - </p> - <p> - “That was a daisy,” Webster mumbled. “If you move before - my head clears, I'll put four bullets into you before you reach the - corridor.” - </p> - <p> - He waited about a minute; then with the gun he pointed to the car door, - and the masher stepped out. Webster handed the porter his gun and - followed; two minutes later he returned, dragging his assailant by the - collar. Up the steps he jerked the big battered hulk and tossed it in the - corner of the vestibule, just as the girl came through the car, making for - the diner up ahead. - </p> - <p> - Again she favoured him with that calm, grave, yet vitally interested gaze, - nodded appreciatively, made as if to pass on, changed her mind, and said - very gravely: “You are—a very courtly gentleman, sir.” - </p> - <p> - He bowed. There was nothing else to do, nothing that he could say, under - the circumstances; to use his chivalry as a wedge to open an acquaintance - never occurred to him—but his whiskers did occur to him. Hastily he - backed into his stateroom and closed the door; presently he rose and - surveyed himself critically in the small mirror over the washstand. - </p> - <p> - “No, Johnny,” he murmured, “we can't go into the - diner now. We're too blamed disreputable. We were bad enough before - that big swine hung the shanty on our right eye, but whatever our physical - and personal feelings, far be it from us to parade our iridescent orb in - public. Besides, one look at that queen is enough to do us for the - remainder of our natural life, and a second look, minus a proper - introduction, would only drive us into a suicide's grave. That's - a fair sample of our luck, Johnny. It rains duck soup—and we're - there like a Chinaman—with chopsticks; and on the only day in the - history of the human race, here I am with a marvellous black eye, a - dislocated thumb, four skinned knuckles, and a grouch, while otherwise - looking like a cross between <i>Rip Van Winkle</i> and a hired man.” - He sighed, rang for the porter and told him to send a waiter for his - order, since he would fain break his fast in the privacy of his stateroom. - And when the waiter came for the order, such was Mr. Webster's - mental perturbation that ham and eggs were furthest from his thoughts. He - ordered a steak with French fried potatoes. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER II - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">J</span>OHN STUART WEBSTER - passed a restless night. Sleep came to him in hourly installments, from - which he would rouse to ask himself whether it was worth while to continue - to go through the motions of living, or alight at the next station, seek a - lonely and unfrequented spot and there surrender to outrageous fortune. He - had <i>lived</i> every moment of his life; fair fortune and ill had been - his portion so often that he had long since ceased to care which took - precedence over the other; to quote Mr. Kipling, he had schooled himself - to “treat those two impostors both the same”—not a very - difficult task, if one be granted a breathing spell between the arrival of - each impostor! Hitherto, in Webster's experience, there had always - been a decent interval between the two—say a day, a week, a month or - more; whereas in the present instance, two minutes had sufficed to make - the journey from a heaven of contentment to the dungeons of despair. - </p> - <p> - It was altogether damnable. In a careless moment, Fate had accorded him a - glimpse of the only woman he had ever met and desired to meet again—for - Webster was essentially a man's man, and his profession and - environment had militated against his opportunities for meeting - extraordinary women; and extraordinary women were the only kind that could - hope to challenge his serious attention. Had his luck changed there, he - might have rested content with his lot—but it hadn't. Fate had - gone farther. She had accorded him a signal opportunity for knightly - combat in the service of this extraordinary woman; and in the absence of a - formal introduction, what man could desire a finer opportunity for getting - acquainted! If only their meeting had but been delayed two weeks, ten - days, a week! Once free of his ugly cocoon of rags and whiskers, the - butterfly Webster would not have hesitated one brief instant to inform - himself of that young lady's name and address, following his summary - disposal of her tormentor. Trusting to the mingled respect and confusion - in his manner, and to her own womanly intuition to warn her that no - rudeness or brazen familiarity was intended, he would have presented - himself before her and addressed her in these words: - </p> - <p> - “A few minutes ago, Miss, you were gracious enough to accord me the - rare pleasure of being of slight service to you. May I presume on that - evidence of your generosity and perfect understanding to risk a seeming - impertinence by presuming to address you?” - </p> - <p> - Webster pictured her as bowing, favouring him with that grave yet - interested scrutiny and saying: “Certainly, sir.” Whereupon he - would say: - </p> - <p> - “It has occurred to me—for, like <i>Bimi</i>, the orangoutang, - I have perhaps too much ego in my cosmos—that you might be - charitably moved to admit me to the happy circle of those privileged to - call you by name. Were there a mutual friend on this train whom I could - prevail upon to introduce me formally, I should not be reduced to the - necessity of being unconventional. Under the circumstances, however, I am - daring enough to presume that this misfortune is not so great that I - should permit it to interfere with my respectful desires. Therefore—have - I your permission to present myself, with the hope that in so doing I <i>may</i> - feel freer to be of additional service to you throughout the remainder of - our journey?” - </p> - <p> - That would be a pretty, a graceful speech—a little ornate, - doubtless, but diplomatic in the extreme. Having been accorded permission - to introduce himself, he would cease thereafter to be flowery. However, - Webster realized that however graceful might be his speech and bearing, - should he essay the great adventure in the morning, his appearance would - render him ridiculous and presumptuous and perhaps shock and humiliate - her; for in all things there is a limit, and John Stuart Webster's - right eye constituted a deadline beyond which, as a gentleman, he dared - not venture; so with a heavy heart he bowed to the inevitable. Brilliant - and mysterious as a meteorite she had flashed once across his horizon and - was gone. - </p> - <p> - In the privacy of his stateroom Webster had ham and eggs for breakfast. He - was lighting his second cigar when the porter knocked and entered with an - envelope. - </p> - <p> - “Lady in the observation-car asked me to deliver this to you, sah,” - he announced importantly. - </p> - <p> - It 'was a note, freshly written on the train stationery. Webster - read: - </p> - <p> - The distressed lady desires to thank the gentleman in stateroom A for his - chivalry of yesterday. She quite realizes that the gentleman's offer - to relieve her of the annoyance to which she was being subjected was such - a direct expression of his nature and code, that to have declined his aid - would have been discourteous, despite her distress at the possible - outcome. She is delighted to know that her confidence in the ability of - her champion has been fully justified by a swift and sweeping victory, but - profoundly sorry that in her service the gentleman in stateroom A was so - unfortunate as to acquire a red eye with blue trimmings. - </p> - <p> - John Stuart Webster swore his mightiest oath, “By the twelve - apostles, Simon Peter, Andrew, James, John, Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew, - Thomas, James, Jude, and Simon, not omitting Judas Iscariot, the scaly - scoundrel who betrayed his Lord and Master!” He searched through an - old wallet until he discovered a fairly clean professional card, across - the bottom of which he wrote, “Thank you. J. S.W.” and sent it - to the no-longer-distressed lady. - </p> - <p> - “The most signal adventure of my life is now over,” he - soliloquized and turned to his cigar. “For the sake of my - self-respect, I had to let her know I'm not a hobo! And now to the - task of framing up a scheme for future acquaintance. I must learn her name - and destination; so as a preliminary I'll interview the train - conductor.” - </p> - <p> - He did, and under the ameliorating influence of a five-dollar bill the - conductor bent a respectful ear to the Websterian message. - </p> - <p> - “In Car Seven,” he began, “there is a young lady. I do - not know what section she occupies; neither do I know her name and - destination. I only know what she looks like.” - </p> - <p> - The conductor nodded. “And you want to ascertain her name and - destination?” - </p> - <p> - “I do.” - </p> - <p> - “Easiest thing in life. There is only one young lady in Car Seven. I - suppose you mean that queen with the olive complexion, the green suit, and——” - </p> - <p> - “Hold! Enough.” - </p> - <p> - “All right. I have the unused portion of her transportation to - return to her before we hit Salt Lake; her name is on the ticket, and the - ticket indicates her destination. I'll make a mental note of both as - soon as I've identified her ticket.” - </p> - <p> - “After you've made the said mental note,” Webster - pleaded, “be sure you write it down, so you'll not forget.” - </p> - <p> - A few hours later the conductor came to Webster's stateroom and - handed him a card upon which was written: - </p> - <p> - Dolores Ruey. From Los Angeles, via San Pedro, Los Angeles & Salt - Lake, to Salt Lake City, Denver & Rio Grande to Denver, Burlington to - St. Louis, Illinois Central to New Orleans. Stop-over at Denver. - </p> - <p> - John Stuart Webster studied the name after the conductor withdrew. “That's - a Spanish name,” he soliloquized, “but for all that, she's - not a parakeet. There's something Gaelic about her features, - particularly her eyes. They're brown, with golden flecks in them, - and if she had a drop of dark blood in her, they'd be smoky and - languid. Also if she were a Latin she would have referred to my black eye—whereas - she referred to, a red eye with blue trimmings! Same thing but different! - All things considered, I guess I'll take a chance and investigate.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER III - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>EBSTER'S - dreams of bliss had, with very slight variation, come true as per - schedule. - </p> - <p> - In Salt Lake City he abandoned the beefsteak on his damaged eye for two - businesslike leeches, which quickly reduced the nocturne effect around his - orb, enabling him, the third day, to saunter forth among his fellowmen. By - the end of the week he was a being reincarnated, and so he packed a huge - new wardrobe-trunk with his latest purchases and journeyed on to Denver. - Coincident with his arrival there, we again take up the thread of our - story. - </p> - <p> - One hour after his trunk arrived the gentleman from Death Valley might - have been observed standing before a cheval glass looking long and - earnestly at the reflection of his middle-aged person, the while he marked - the fit of his new raiment. - </p> - <p> - Let us describe these habiliments, alleging as an excuse for dwelling with - emphasis upon the subject the fact that John Stuart Webster was all - dressed up for the first time in three long, labour-ridden years, and was - tremendously glad of it. Hark to this inventory. There were the silken - hose and underwear next his well-scrubbed skin; then there was the white - pleated linen shirt—a shirt so expensive and exquisite that Mr. - Webster longed to go somewhere and shoot a game of billiards, in order - that thus he might have an excuse to remove his coat and exhibit that - shirt to the gaze of the multitude. His collar irked him slightly, but he - had been assured by the clerk who sold it to him “that it was - strictly in vogue.” His gray silk Ascot tie was held in a graceful - puff by a scarfpin with a head of perfect crystal prettily shot with - virgin gold; his black afternoon coat enveloped his wide shoulders and - flanked his powerful neck with the perfection of the epidermis on a goose - in the pink of condition; his gray striped trousers broke exactly right - over his new “patent leather” shoes. The <i>tout ensemble</i>, - as the gentleman himself might have expressed it had he possessed a - working knowledge of French (which he did not), was perfect. - </p> - <p> - He “shot” his cuffs and strutted backward and forward, - striving to observe his spinal column over his right shoulder, for he was - in a transport of delight as truly juvenile as that on the - never-to-be-forgotten day when he had attained to the dignity of his first - pair of long trousers. He observed to himself that it was truly - remarkable, the metamorphosis nine tailors and a talkative barber can make - in an old sour-dough. - </p> - <p> - Presently, convinced that he was the glass of fashion and the mould of - form, Mr. Webster took up a smart lancewood stick and a pair of new gray - suede gloves and descended to the lobby of Denver's most exclusive - hotel. He paused at the cigar stand long enough to fill his case with - three-for-a-half perfectos and permit the young woman in charge to feast - her world-weary eyes on his radiant person (which she did, classifying and - tabulating him instantly as a millionaire mining man from Nevada). After - this he lighted a cigar and stepped forth into Seventeenth Street, along - which he strolled until he came to a certain building into the elevator of - which he entered and was whisked to the twelfth floor, where he alighted - and found himself before a wide portal which bore in gold letters the - words: Engineers' Club. - </p> - <p> - The Engineers' Club was the closest approach to a home that John - Stuart Webster had known for twenty years, and so he paused just within - the entrance to perform the time-honoured ceremonial of home-coming. Over - the arched doorway leading to the lounge hung a large bronze gong such as - is used in mines, and from the lever of the gong-clapper depended a cord - which Webster seized and jerked thrice—thus striking the signal - known to all of the mining fraternity—the signal to hoist! Only - those members who had been sojourning in distant parts six months or more - were privileged thus to disturb the peace and dignity of the Engineers' - Club, the same privilege, by the way, carrying with it the obligation of - paying for the materials shortly to be hoisted! - </p> - <p> - Having announced the return of a prodigal, our hero stepped to the door of - the lounge and shouted: - </p> - <p> - “John Stuart Webster, E. M.” - </p> - <p> - The room was empty. Not a single member was present to greet the wanderer - and accept of his invitation! - </p> - <p> - “Home was never like this when I was a boy,” he complained to - the servant at the telephone exchange. “Times must be pretty good in - the mining game in Colorado when everybody has a job that keeps him out of - Denver.” - </p> - <p> - The servant rose and essayed a raid on his hat and stick, but Mr. Webster, - who was impatient at thus finding himself amidst old scenes, fended him - away and said “Shoo fly!” Then he crossed the empty lounge and - ascended the stairs leading to the card room, at the entrance of which he - paused, leaning on his stick—in unconscious imitation of a Sicilian - gentleman posing for his photograph after his first payday in America—swept - that room with a wistful eye and sighed because nothing had changed in - three long years. - </p> - <p> - Save for the slight job of kalsomining which Father Time had done on the - edges of the close-cropped Websterian moustache, the returned prodigal - might have stepped out of the Club but yesterday. He would not have taken - the short end of a modest bet that even a fresh log had been placed on the - fire or that the domino-players over against the wall had won or lost a - drink or two and then resumed playing—although perchance there <i>were</i> - a few more gray hairs in the thickly thatched head of old Neddy Jerome, - sitting in his favourite seat by the window and turning the cards in his - eternal game of solitaire, in blissful ignorance that John Stuart Webster - stood within the portals of home and awaited the fatted calf. - </p> - <p> - “I'll hypnotize the old pelican into looking up,” - Webster soliloquized, and forthwith bent a beetling gaze upon the player. - For as many as five seconds he strove to demonstrate the superiority of - mind over solitaire; then, despairing of success, he struck the upholstery - of an adjacent chair a terrific blow with his stick—the effect of - which was to cause everybody in the room to start and to conceal Mr. - Webster momentarily in a cloud of dust, the while in a bellowing baritone - he sang: - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - His father was a hard-rock miner; - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - He comes from my home town—— - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - “Jack Webster! The devil's own kin!” shouted Neddy - Jerome. He swept the cards into a heap and waddled across the room to meet - this latest assailant of the peace and dignity of the Engineers' - Club. “You old, worthless, ornery, no-good son of a lizard! I've - never been so glad to see a man that didn't owe me money.” He - seized Webster's hand in both of his and wrung it affectionately. - “Jack,” he continued, “I've been combing the whole - civilized world for you, for a month, at least. Where the devil <i>have</i> - you been?” - </p> - <p> - John Stuart Webster beamed happily upon his friend. “Well, Neddy, - you old stocking-knitter,” he replied quizzically, “since that - is the case, I'm not surprised at your failure to find me. You've - known me long enough to have remembered to confine your search to the <i>uncivilized</i> - reaches.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, you're here, at any rate, and I'm happy. Now you'll - settle down.” - </p> - <p> - “Hardly, Neddy. I'm young yet, you know—only forty. - Still a real live man and not quite ready to degenerate into a - card-playing, eat-drink-and-be-merry, die-of-inanition, sink-to-oblivion, - and go-to-hell fireplace spirit!” And he prodded Jerome in the short - ribs with a tentative thumb that caused the old man to wince. He turned to - greet the halfdozen card-players who had looked up at his noisy entrance—deciding - that since they were strangers to him they were mere half-baked young - whelps but lately graduated from some school of mines—and permitted - his friend to drag him downstairs to the deserted lounge, where Jerome - paused in the middle of the room and renewed his query: - </p> - <p> - “Johnny, where have you been?” - </p> - <p> - “Lead me to a seat, O thou of little manners,” Webster - retorted. “Here, boy! Remove my property and guard it well. I will - stay and disport myself.” And he suffered himself to be dispossessed - of his hat, gloves, and stick. “It used to be the custom here,” - he resumed, addressing Jerome, “that when one of the Old Guard - returned, he was obliged to ask his friends to indicate their poison——” - </p> - <p> - “Where have you been, I ask?” - </p> - <p> - “Out in Death Valley, California, trying to pry loose a fortune.” - </p> - <p> - “Did you pry it?” - </p> - <p> - John Stuart Webster arched his eyebrows in mock reproach. “And you - can see my new suit, Neddy, my sixteen-dollar, made-to-order shoes, and my - horny hoofs encased in silken hose—and ask that question? Freshly - shaved and ironed and almost afraid to sit down and get wrinkles in my - trousers! Smell that!” He blew a cloud of cigar smoke into Jerome's - smiling face. The latter sniffed. “It smells expensive,” he - replied. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, and you can bet it tastes expensive, too,” Webster - answered, handing his cigar-case to his friend—who helped himself - and said: - </p> - <p> - “So you've made your pile, eh, Jack?” - </p> - <p> - “Do you suppose I would have come back to Colorado without money? - Haven't you lived long enough, Neddy, to realize that when a man has - money he never knows where to go to spend it? It's so blamed hard to - make up one's mind, with all the world to choose from, and so the - only place I could think of was the old Engineers' Club in Denver. - There, at least, I knew I would find one man of my acquaintance—an - old granny named Neddy Jerome. Yes, Neddy, I knew I would find you playing - solitaire, with your old heart beating about seven times an hour, your - feet good and warm, and a touch of misery around your liver from lack of - exercise.” - </p> - <p> - Jerome bit the end of his cigar and spat derisively. “How much have - you made?” he demanded bluntly, “It's none of your - business, but I'll tell you because I love you, Neddy. I've - made one hundred thousand dollars.” - </p> - <p> - “Chicken-feed,” Jerome retorted. - </p> - <p> - Webster glanced around. “I thought at first nothing had changed in - the old place,” he said, “but I see I was mistaken.” - </p> - <p> - “Why, what's wrong, Jack?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, when I was here before, they used to ask a man if he had a - mouth—and now they ask him how much money he's made, where he - made it, and—why, hello, Mose, you black old scoundrel, how do you - do? Glad to see you. Take the order, Mose: some milk and vichy for Mr. - Jerome, and a——” - </p> - <p> - “Yassuh, yassuh,” Mose interrupted, “an' a Stinger - for you, suh.” - </p> - <p> - “Gone but not forgotten,” breathed Mr. Webster, and walled his - eyes piously after the fashion of one about to say grace before a meal. - “How sweet a thing is life with a club servant like old black Mose, - who does things without an order. I feel at home—at last.” - </p> - <p> - “Johnny,” Jerome began again, “I've been combing - the mineral belt of North and South America for you for a month.” - </p> - <p> - “Why this sudden belated interest in me?” - </p> - <p> - “I have a fine job for you, John——” - </p> - <p> - “King's X,” Webster interrupted, and showed both hands - with the fingers crossed. “No plotting against my peace and comfort, - Neddy. Haven't I told you I'm all dressed up for the first - time in three years, that I have money in my pocket and more in bank? Man, - I'm going to tread the primrose path for a year before I get back - into the harness again.” - </p> - <p> - Jerome waved a deprecatory hand, figuratively brushing aside such feeble - and inconsequential argument. “Are you foot-loose?” he - demanded. - </p> - <p> - “I'm not. I'm bound in golden chains——” - </p> - <p> - “Married, eh? Great Scott, I might have guessed it. So you're - on your honeymoon, eh?” - </p> - <p> - “No such luck, you vichy-drinking iconoclast. If you had ever gotten - far enough from this club during the past fifteen years to get a breath of - real fresh air, you'd understand why I want to enjoy civilization - for a week or two before I go back to a mine superintendent's cabin - on some bleak hill. No, sir-ee. Old Jeremiah Q. Work and I have had a - falling out. I'm going on to New York and attend the opera, see all - the good plays, mush around through the Metropolitan Museum of Art, drink - tea, and learn to tango.” Webster sighed gustily. “Lord, - Neddy, how I long for the fleshpots. I've slept under the desert - stars so long I want electric signs for a change. Bacon and beans and sour - dough are wonderful when one hasn't something better, but I crave an - omelette soufflé drenched in cognac, and the cognac afire. Yes, and I want - an obsequious waiter to hurry in with it and then take a dollar tip from - me afterward for all the world like he was doing me a favour by accepting - it. Dad burn your picture, Neddy, I want some class! I've been - listening to a dago shift-boss playing the accordeon for three years—and - he could only play three tunes. Now I want Sousa's band. I want to - hive up in a swell hotel and leave a call for six o'clock—and - then when they call me, I want to curse them, roll over, and go to sleep - again. I've been bathing in tepid, dirty water in a redwood - sluice-box, and now I desire a steam room and a needle shower and an - osteopath. I've been bossing Greasers and Italians and was forced to - learn their language to get results, and now I want to speak my mother - tongue to my old friends. The last funny story I heard had whiskers on it - when Rameses was playing hop-scotch in Memphis, Egypt, and by thunder I'm - going to have a new deal all around.” - </p> - <p> - “Very well, Jack. Don't excite yourself. I'll give you - exactly thirty days to sicken of it all—and then I shall come and - claim my property.” - </p> - <p> - “Neddy, I'll not work for you.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, yes, you will, John.” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir, I'm mad. I won't play.” - </p> - <p> - “You're it. I just tagged you.” - </p> - <p> - “I require a rest—but unfold your proposition, Neddy. I was - born a poor, weak vessel consumed with a curiosity that was ever my - undoing. I can only protest that this is no way to treat a friend.” - </p> - <p> - “Nonsense! My own brother wants this job, and I have refused to give - it to him. Business is business—and I've saved it for you.” - </p> - <p> - Jerome leaned forward and laid his finger confidentially on Webster's - knee; whereat the lighthearted wanderer carefully lifted the finger, - brushed an imaginary speck of dirt from it, and set it down again. “Be - serious, you ingrate,” Jerome protested. ''Listen! I've - been working for two years on a consolidation up near Telluride, and I've - just put it across. Jack, it's the biggest thing in the country—— - </p> - <p> - Webster closed his eyes and crooned: - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - “I'm dying for some one to love me; - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - I'm tired of living alone; - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - I want to be somebody's darling, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - To be queen upon somebody's throne.” - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - “Well, you'll be king on the throne of the Colorado - Consolidated Mines Company, Limited. English capital, Jack. Pay 'em - 6 per cent, and they'll call you blessed. There's twenty-five - thousand a year in it, with a house and a good cook and an automobile and - a chauffeur, and you can come to town whenever you please, provided you - don't neglect the company's interests—and I know you're - not that kind of an engineer.” - </p> - <p> - “Do I have to put some money into it, Neddy?” - </p> - <p> - “Not necessarily, although I should advise it. I can let you in on - the ground floor for that hundred thousand of yours, guarantee you a - handsome profit and in all probability a big clean-up.” - </p> - <p> - “I feel myself slipping, Neddy. Nevertheless, the tail goes with the - hide. I'm not in the habit of asking my friends to guarantee my - investments, and if you say it's all right, I'll spread what I - have left of the hundred thousand when I report for duty. What's the - news around this mortuary, anyhow? Who's dead and who's alive?” - </p> - <p> - “It's been a tremendous job getting this consolidation over, - Jack. When——” - </p> - <p> - “In pity's name! Spare me. I've heard all I want to hear - about your confounded consolidation. News! News! Give me news! I had to - beg for a drink——” - </p> - <p> - “I might remind you that your manners have not improved with age, - Jack Webster. You haven't thanked me for that job.” - </p> - <p> - “No—nor shall I. Mose, you black sinner, how dare you appear - before me again without that stinger?” - </p> - <p> - Mose, the aged coloured porter of the Engineers' Club, flashed a row - of ivories and respectfully re-turned the democratic greeting. - </p> - <p> - “Letter for you, suh. The secretary told me to give it to you, - Mistah Webster.” - </p> - <p> - “Thank you, Mose. Speak up, Neddy, and tell me something. Ever hear - anything of Billy Geary?” He was tearing the edge of the envelope - the while he gazed at Jerome, who was rubbing his fat hands together after - the fashion of elderly men who are well pleased with themselves. - </p> - <p> - “You have a chance to become one of the greatest and richest mining - engineers in the world, Jack,” he answered, “now that you've - cut loose from that young crook Geary. I don't know what's - become of him, and neither does anybody else. For that matter, nobody - cares.” - </p> - <p> - “I do—and you can take the brief end of that bet for your last - white chip. Don't let me hear you or anybody else say anything - against Billy Geary. That boy goes for my money, every turn in the box. - Don't make any mistakes about that, old-timer.” - </p> - <p> - Webster's face suddenly was serious; the bantering intonation in his - voice was gone, and a new, slightly strident note had crept into it. But - Jerome, engrossed in his own affairs, failed to observe the menace in that - swift transition of mood in his companion. He waved his hand soothingly. - </p> - <p> - “All right, old Johnny Pepper-box, have it your own way. - Nevertheless, I'm a little mystified. The last I knew of you two, - you had testified against him in the high-grader trials at Cripple Creek, - and he had pulled out under a cloud, even after his acquittal.” - </p> - <p> - “Give a dog a bad name, and it will stick to him,” Webster - retorted. “Of course I testified against him. As engineer for the - Mine Owners' Association, I had to. The high-grade ore was found in - his assay office, and the circumstantial evidence was complete, and I - admit Billy was acquitted merely because I and others could not swear - positively that the ore came from any certain mine. It was the same old - story, Neddy. It's become history in all mining camps. You can be - morally certain that high-grade ore has been stolen from your mine, but - unless you catch the ore thief in the act, how can you prove it? - High-grade ore is blind goods and is not confined to any certain man-owned - spot on this wicked earth—so there you are! I suppose you read the - newspaper reports and believed them, just as everybody else does.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, forget it, Jack. It's all over long ago, and forgotten.” - </p> - <p> - “It wasn't all over so long ago as you seem to think. I - suppose you knew the Holman gang was afterward sent to the penitentiary - for those same high-grade operations?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes.” - </p> - <p> - “But I'll bet my new plug hat you never knew I was the <i>Hawkshaw</i> - that sent them there! You bet I was! Billy Geary's acquittal didn't - end my interest in the case—not by a jugful! I fought the case - against the friends of the Holman crew <i>among the mine owners themselves</i>; - and it cost me my good job, my prestige as a mining engineer, and thirty - thousand dollars of money that I'd slaved to get together. They - squeezed me, Neddy—squeezed me hard like a lemon, and threw me away, - but I got them! I should tell a man! Of course you never knew this, Neddy, - and for that matter, neither does Geary. I wish he did. We were good - friends once. I certainly was mighty fond of that boy.” - </p> - <p> - He drew the letter from the envelope and slowly opened it, his mind not - upon the letter, but upon Billy Geary. - </p> - <p> - “And you never heard what became of Geary?” - </p> - <p> - “Not a word. I was too busy wondering what was to become of me. I - couldn't get a job anywhere in Colorado, and I moved to Nevada. Made - a million in Goldfield, dropped it in the panic of 1907, and had to start - again——” - </p> - <p> - “What have you been doing lately?” - </p> - <p> - “Borax. Staked a group of claims down in Death Valley. Bully ground, - Neddy, and I was busted when I located them. Had to borrow money to pay - the filing fees and incorporation, and did my own assessment work. Look!” - Webster held up his hands, still somewhat grimy and calloused. - </p> - <p> - “How did you get by with your bluff?” - </p> - <p> - “In the only way anybody ever got by on no pair. I was a brave dog - and went around with an erect tail, talking in millions and buying my - tobacco on jawbone. The Borax Trust knew I was busted, but they never - could quite get over the fear that I'd dig up some blacking and give - them a run—so they bought me out. Two weeks ago I got a belated - telegram, telling me there was a hundred thousand dollars in escrow - against deeds and certificate of title in a Salt Lake City bank—so - here I am.” - </p> - <p> - “Somebody told me Geary had gone to Rhodesia,” Jerome - continued musingly, “or maybe it was Capetown. I know he was seen - somewhere in South Africa.” - </p> - <p> - “He left the Creek immediately after the conclusion of his trial. - Poor boy! That dirty business destroyed the lad and made a tramp of him, I - guess. I tell you, Neddy, no two men ever lived who came nearer to loving - each other than Billy Geary and his old Jack-pardner. We bucked the marts - of men and went to sleep together hungry many a time during our five-year - partnership. Why, Bill was like my own boy! Do you know, Neddy, now that I've - rounded the forty-pole, I get thinking sometimes, and wish I could have - married when I was about twenty years old; I might have had a son to knock - around with now, while I'm still in the shank of my own youth. And - if I had been blessed with a son, I would have wanted him to be just like - Billy. You know, Bill tied onto me when he was about eighteen. He's - rising twenty-six now. He came to me at the Bonnie Claire mine fresh from - high school, and I staked him to a drill; but he didn't stick there - long. I saw he was too good a boy to be a mucker all his days.” - </p> - <p> - Webster smiled reminiscently and went on: “I'll never forget - the day Billy challenged a big Cornish shift-boss that called him out of - his name. The Cousin Jack could fight, too, but Billy walked around him - like a cooper around a barrel, and when he finished, I fired the Cousin - Jack and gave Billy his job!” - </p> - <p> - He chuckled softly at the remembrance. “Too bad!” he - continued. “That boy had brains and grit and honour, and he shouldn't - have held that trial against me. But Billy was young, I suppose, and he - just couldn't understand my position. It takes the hard old years to - impart common sense to a man, and I suppose Billy couldn't - understand why I had to be true to my salt. He should have known I hadn't - a leg to stand on when I took the stand for the prosecution—not a - scintilla of evidence to present, except that the high-grade had been - found in his assay office. Jerome, I curse the day I took that boy out - from underground and put him in the Bonnie Claire assay office to learn - the business. How could I know that the Holman gang had cached the stuff - in his shack?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, it's too bad,” Jerome answered dully. He was - quite willing that the subject of conversation should be changed. “I'm - glad to get the right dope on the boy, anyhow. We might be able to hand - him a good job to make up for the injustice. Have another drink?” - </p> - <p> - “Not until I read this letter. Now, who the dickens knew I was - headed for Denver and the Engineers' Club? I didn't tell a - soul, and I only arrived this morning.” - </p> - <p> - He turned to the last page to ascertain the identity of his correspondent, - and his facial expression ran the gamut from surprise to a joy that was - good to see. - </p> - <p> - It was a long letter, and John Stuart Webster read it deliberately. When - he had read it once, he reread it; after which he sat in silent - contemplation of the design of the carpet for fully a minute before - reaching for the bell. A servant responded immediately. - </p> - <p> - “Bring me the time-tables of all roads leading to New Orleans,” - he ordered, “—also a cable blank.” - </p> - <p> - Webster had reread the letter before the servant returned with the - time-tables. He glanced through them. “Henry,” he announced, - “your name is Henry, isn't it?” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir—George, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, August, you go out to the desk, like a good fellow, and ask - the secretary to arrange for a compartment for me to New Orleans on the - Gulf States Limited, leaving at ten o'clock to-morrow night.” - He handed the servant his card. “Now wait a minute until I write - something.” He seized the cable blank, helped himself, uninvited, to - Neddy Jerome's fountain pen, and wrote: - </p> - <p> - William H. Geary, - </p> - <p> - Calle de Concordia No. 19, - </p> - <p> - Buenaventura, - </p> - <p> - Sobrante, C. A. - </p> - <p> - Salute, you young jackass! Just received your letter. Cabling thousand for - emergency roll first thing to-morrow. Will order machinery. Leaving for - New Orleans to-morrow night, to arrive Buenaventura first steamer. Your - letter caught me with a hundred thousand. We cut it two ways and take our - chances. Keep a light in the window for your old Jack Pardner. - </p> - <p> - “That's a windy cablegram,” Neddy Jerome remarked as the - servant bore it away. “Why all this garrulity? A cablegram anywhere - generally costs at least a dollar a word.” - </p> - <p> - “'That's my delight of a shiny night, in the season of - the year,'” quoted John Stuart Webster; “and why the - devil economize when the boy needs cheering up?” - </p> - <p> - “What boy?” - </p> - <p> - “Billy Geary.” - </p> - <p> - “Broke?” - </p> - <p> - “I should say so. Rattles when he walks.” - </p> - <p> - “Where is he?” - </p> - <p> - “Central America.” - </p> - <p> - Neddy Jerome was happy. He was in an expansive mood, for he had, with the - assistance of a kindly fate, rounded up the one engineer in all the world - whom he needed to take charge of the Colorado Consolidated. So he said: - </p> - <p> - “Well, Jack, just to celebrate the discovery of your old pal, I'll - tell you what I'll do. I'll O. K. your voucher for the expense - of bringing young Geary back to the U. S. A., and when we get him here, it - will be up to you to find a snug berth for him with Colorado Consolidated.” - </p> - <p> - “Neddy,” said John Stuart Webster, “by my hali-dom, I - love thee. You're a thoughtful, kindly old stick-in-the-mud, but——” - </p> - <p> - “No <i>ifs</i> or <i>but's</i>. I'm your boss,” - Jerome interrupted, and waddled away to telephone the head waiter at his - favourite restaurant to reserve a table for two. - </p> - <p> - Mr. Webster sighed. He disliked exceedingly to disappoint old Neddy, but—— - He shrank from seeming to think over-well of himself by declining a - twenty-five-thousand-dollar-a-year job with the biggest mining company in - Colorado, but—— - </p> - <p> - “Rotten luck,” he soliloquized. “It runs that way for a - while, and then it changes, and gets worse!” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER IV - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>HEN Jerome - returned to his seat, the serious look in Webster's hitherto - laughing eyes challenged his immediate attention. “Now what's - gone and broken loose?” he demanded. - </p> - <p> - “Neddy,” said John Stuart Webster gently, “do you - remember my crossing my fingers and saying, 'King's X' - when you came at me with that proposition of yours?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. But I noticed you uncrossed them mighty quick when I told you - the details of the job. You'll never be offered another like it.” - </p> - <p> - “I know, Neddy, I know. It just breaks my heart to have to decline - it, but the fact of the matter is, I think you'd better give that - job to your brother after all. At any rate, I'm not going to take - it.” - </p> - <p> - “Why?” the amazed Jerome demanded. “Johnny, you're - crazy in the head. Of course you'll take it.” - </p> - <p> - For answer Webster handed his friend the letter he had just received. - </p> - <p> - “Read that, old horse, and see if you can't work up a - circulation,” he suggested. - </p> - <p> - Jerome adjusted his spectacles and read: - </p> - <p> - Calle de Concordia 19, Buenaventura, - </p> - <p> - Sobrante, C. A. - </p> - <p> - Dear John: - </p> - <p> - I would address you as “dear friend John,” did I but possess - sufficient courage. In my heart of hearts you are still that, but after - three years of silence, due to my stupidity and hardness of heart, it is, - perhaps, better to make haste slowly. - </p> - <p> - To begin, I should like to be forgiven, on the broad general grounds that - I am most almighty sorry for what I went and done! Am I forgiven? I seem - to see your friendly old face and hear you answer “Aye,” and - with this load off my chest at last I believe I feel better already. - </p> - <p> - I did not know until very recently what had become of you, and that that - wretched Cripple Creek business had been cleared up at last. I met a - steam-shovel man a month or two ago on the Canal. He used to be a - machine-man in the Portland mine, and he told me the whole story. - </p> - <p> - Jack, you poor, deluded old piece of white meat, do you think for a moment - that I held against you your testimony for the operators in Cripple Creek? - You will never know how badly it broke me up when that Canal digger sprung - his story of how you went the limit for my measly reputation after I had - quit the company in disgrace. Still, it was not that which hurt me - particularly. I thought you believed the charges and that you testified in - a firm belief that I was the guilty man, as all of the circumstantial - evidence seemed to indicate. I thought this for three long, meagre years, - old friend, and I'm sorry. After that, I suppose there isn't - any need for me to say more, except that you are an old fool for not - saying you were going to spend your money and your time and reputation - trying to put my halo back on straight! I doubt if I was worth it, and you - knew that; but let it pass, for we have other fish to fry. - </p> - <p> - The nubbin of the matter is this: There is only one good gold mine left in - this weary world—and I have it. It's the sweetest wildcat - lever struck, and we stand the finest show in the world of starving to - death if we tackle it without sufficient capital to go through. (You will - notice that I am already—and unconsciously—employing the - plural pronoun. How rapidly the old habits return with the old friendships - rehabilitated!) It will take at least thirty thousand dollars, and we - ought to have double that to play safe. I do not know whether you have, or - can raise, sixty cents, but at any rate I am going to put the buck up to - you and you can take a look. - </p> - <p> - Here are the specifications. Read them carefully and then see if there is - anybody in the U. S. A. whom you can interest to the tune mentioned above. - We could probably get by with thirty thousand, but I would not jeopardize - anybody's money by tackling it with less. - </p> - <p> - Jack, I have a mining concession. It is low-grade—a free-milling - gold vein—twelve feet of ore between good solid walls on a contact - between Andesite and Silurian limestone. The ore is oxidized, and we can - save ninety per cent, of the values on amalgamating plates without - concentrating or cyaniding machinery. I have had my own portable assay - outfit on the ground for a month, and you can take my opinion for what it - is worth when I assure you that this concession is a winner, providing the - money is forthcoming with which to handle it. - </p> - <p> - This is a pretty fair country, Jack—if you survive long enough to - get used to it. At first you think it's Paradise; then you grow to - hate it and know it for hell with the lid off; and finally all your early - love for it returns and you become what I am now—a tropical tramp! - There is only one social stratum lower than mine, and that's the - tropical beachcomber. I am not that—yet; and will not be if my - landlady will continue to listen to my blandishments. She is a sweet soul, - with a divine disposition, and I am duly grateful. - </p> - <p> - I would tell you all about the geography, topography, flora and fauna of - Sobrante, but you can ascertain that in detail by consulting any standard - encyclopedia. Governmentally the country is similar to its sister - republics. The poor we have always with us; also a first-class, - colorado-maduro despot in the political saddle, and it's a cold day - indeed when two patriots, two viva's and a couple of old Long Tom - Springfield rifles cannot upset the Sobrante apple cart. We have the usual - Governmental extravagance in the matter of statues to countless departed - “liberators” in all the public squares, and money is no - object. It is depreciated shin-plasters, and I had to use a discarded - sugar-barrel to hold mine when I arrived and changed four hundred pesos - oro into the national currency. If a waiter brings you a jolt of hooch, - you're stingy if you tip him less than a Sobrante dollar. - </p> - <p> - We have a Malicon along the bay shore and back again, with a municipal - bandstand in the middle thereof, upon which the fine city band of - Buenaventura plays nightly those languid Spanish melodies that must have - descended to us from the Inquisition. If you can spare the cash, send me a - bale of the latest New York rags and a banjo, and I'll start - something. I have nothing else to do until I hear from you, save shake - dice at The Frenchman's with the Présidente, who has nothing else to - do except lap up highballs and wait for the next drawing of the lottery. I - asked him for a job to tide me over temporarily, and he offered me a - portfolia! I could have been Minister of Finance! - </p> - <p> - I declined, from a constitutional inability, inherent in the Irish, to - assimilate a joke from a member of an inferior race. - </p> - <p> - We haven't had a revolution for nearly six months, but we have - hopes. - </p> - <p> - There are some white men here, neither better nor worse. We tolerate each - other. - </p> - <p> - I am addressing you at the Engineers' Club, in the hope that my - letter may reach you there, or perhaps the secretary will know your - address and forward it to you. If you are foot-loose and still entertain a - lingering regard for your old pal, get busy on this mining concession P. - D. Q. Time is the essence of the contract, because I am holding on to the - thin edge of nothing, and if we have a change of government I may lose - even that. I need you, John Stuart Webster, worse than I need salvation. I - enclose you a list of equipment required. - </p> - <p> - If you receive this letter and can do anything for me, please cable. If - you cannot, please cable anyway. It is needless for me to state that the - terms of division are as you make them, although I think fifty-fifty would - place us both on Easy Street for the rest of our days. Do let me hear from - you, Jack, if only to tell me the old <i>entente cordiale</i> still - exists. I know now that I was considerable of a heedless pup a few years - ago and overlooked my hand quite regularly, but now that I have a good - thing I do not know of anybody with whom I care to share it except your - own genial self. Please let me hear from you. - </p> - <p> - Affectionately, - </p> - <p> - Billy. - </p> - <p> - Jerome finished reading this remarkable communication; then with infinite - amusement he regarded John Stuart Webster over the tops of his glasses as - one who examines a new and interesting species of bug. - </p> - <p> - “So Billy loves that dear Sobrante, eh?” he said with abysmal - sarcasm. “Jack Webster, listen to a sane man and be guided - accordingly. I was in this same little Buenaventura once. I was there for - three days, and I wouldn't have been there three minutes if I could - have caught a steamer out sooner. Of all the miserable, squalid, - worthless, ornery, stinking holes on the face of God's green - footstool, Sobrante is the worst—if one may judge it by its capital - city. Jack, there is an old bromide that describes aptly the republic of - Sobrante, and it's so trite I hesitate to repeat it—but I - will, for your benefit. Sobrante is a country where the flowers are - without fragrance, the men without honour, and the women without virtue. - It is hot and unhealthy, and the mosquitoes wear breechclouts; and when - they bite you, you die. You get mail three times a month, and there isn't - a white man in the whole Roman-candle republic that a gentleman would - associate with.” - </p> - <p> - “You forget Billy Geary,” Webster reminded him gently. - </p> - <p> - “He's a boy. What does his judgment amount to? Are you going - to chase off to this God-forsaken fever-hole at the behest of a lad - scarcely out of his swaddling clothes? Jack Webster, surely you aren't - going to throw yourself away—give up the sure thing I offer you—to - join Billy Geary in Sobrante and finance a wildcat prospect without a - certificate of title attached. Why, Jack, my dear boy, don't you - know that if you develop your mine to-morrow and get it paying well, the - first 'liberator' may take it away from you or tax you for the - entire output?” - </p> - <p> - “We'll have government protection, Neddy. This will be - American capital, and if they get fresh, our Uncle Sam can send a warship, - can't he?” - </p> - <p> - “He can—but he won't. Are you and Billy Geary of - sufficient importance at home or abroad to warrant the vast consumption of - coal necessary to send a battleship to protect your dubious prospect-hole? - Be reasonable. What did you wire that confounded boy?” - </p> - <p> - “That I was coming.” - </p> - <p> - “Cable him you've changed, your mind. We'll send him - some money to come home, and you can give him a good job under you. I'll - O. K. the voucher and charge it to your personal expense account.” - </p> - <p> - “That's nice of you, old sport, and I thank you kindly. I'll - talk to Billy when I arrive in Buenaventura, and if the prospect doesn't - look good to me, I'll argue him out of it and we'll come home.” - </p> - <p> - “But I want you now. I don't want you to go away.” - </p> - <p> - “You promised me thirty days in which to have a good time——” - </p> - <p> - “So I did. But is this having a good time? How about that omelette - soufflé all blazing with blue fire, and that shower-bath and the opera and - mushing through the art centres, and Sousa's band——” - </p> - <p> - “They have a band down in Buenaventura. Billy says so.” - </p> - <p> - “It plays 'La Paloma' and 'Sobre las Olas' - and 'La Golondrina' and all the rest of them. Jack, you'll - go crazy listening to it.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I don't want any omelette soufflé, and I had a bath - before I left the hotel. I was just hearing myself talk, Neddy,” the - culprit protested weakly. “Let me go. I might come back. But I must - go. I want to see Billy.” - </p> - <p> - “You just said a minute ago you'd turned the forty-year post,” - Jerome warned him. “And you're now going to lose a year or two - more in which you might better be engaged laying up a foundation of - independence for your old age. You will get out of Sobrante with the price - of a second-class ticket on a vile fruit boat, and you'll be back - here panhandling around for a job at a quarter of what I am offering you. - For Heaven's sake, man, don't be a fool.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, but I will be a fool,” John Stuart Webster answered; and - possibly, by this time, the reader has begun to understand the potency of - his middle name—the Scotch are notoriously pig-headed, and Mr. - Webster had just enough oatmeal in his blood to have come by that - centre-fire name honestly. “And you, you poor old horse, you could - not possibly understand why, if you lived to be a million years old.” - </p> - <p> - He got up from his chair to the full height of his six-feet-one, and - stretched one hundred and ninety pounds of bone and muscle. - </p> - <p> - “And so I shall go to Sobrante and lose all of this all-important - money, shall I?” he jeered. “Then, by all the gods of the Open - Country, I hope I may! Old man, you have browsed through a heap of - literature in your day, but I doubt if it has done you any good. Permit me - to map out a course of reading for you. Get a copy of 'Paradise Lost' - and another of 'Cyrano de Bergerac.' In the former you will - find a line running somewhat thusly: 'What tho' the cause be - lost, all is not lost!' And in the immortal work of Monsieur - Rostand, let me recommend one little page—about fifteen lines. Read - them, old money-grubber, and learn! On second thought, do not read them. - Those lines would only be wasted on you, for you have become afflicted - with hypertrophy of the acquisitive sense, which thins the blood, dwarfs - the understanding, stunts the perception of relative values, and chills - the feet. . - </p> - <p> - “Let me foretell your future for the next twenty years, Neddy. You - will spend about forty per cent, of your time in this lounging-room, - thirty per cent, of it in piling up a bank-roll, out of which you will - glean no particular enjoyment, and the remaining thirty per cent, you will - spend in bed. And then some bright morning your heart-beat will slow down - almost imperceptibly, and the House Committee will order a wreath of - autumn leaves hung just above Number Four domino table, and it will remain - there until the next annual house-cleaning, when some swamper 'will - say, 'What the devil is this stuff here for?' and forthwith he - will tear it down and consign it to the fireplace.” - </p> - <p> - “Ba-a-li,” growled Jerome. - </p> - <p> - “The truth hurts, I know,” Webster pursued relentlessly, - “but hear me to the bitter end. And then presently shall enter the - club no less a personage than young John Stuart Webster, even as he - entered it to-day. He will be smelling of country with the hair on, and he - will glance toward Table Number Four and murmur sympathetically: 'Poor - old Jerome! I knowed him good!' Did I hear you say 'Huh!' - just then? I thank thee for teaching me that word. Take careful note and - see I use it correctly—'<i>Huh!</i>' Dad burn you, - Neddy, I'm not a Methuselah. I want some fun in life. I want to - fight and be broke and go hungry and then make money for the love of - making it and spending it, and I want to live a long time yet. I have a - constitutional weakness for foregathering with real he-men, doing real - he-things, and if I'm to be happy, I'll just naturally have to - be the he-est of the whole confounded pack! I want to see the mirage - across the sagebrush and hear it whisper: 'Hither, John Stuart - Webster! Hither, you fool, and I'll hornswaggle you again, as in an - elder day I horn,swaggled you before.'” - </p> - <p> - Jerome shook his white thatch hopelessly. - </p> - <p> - “I thought you were a great mining engineer, John,” he said - sadly, “but you're not. You're a poet. You do not seem - to care for money.” - </p> - <p> - “Well,” Webster retorted humorously, “it isn't - exactly what you might term a ruling passion. I like to make it, but there's - more fun spending it. I've made a hundred thousand dollars, and now - I want to go blow it—and I'm going to. Do not try to argue - with me. I'm a lunatic and I will have my way. If I didn't go - tearing off to Sobrante and join forces with Billy Geary, there to play - the game, red or black, I'd feel as if I had done something low and - mean and small. The boy's appealed to me, and I have made my answer. - If I come back alive but broke, you know in your heart you'll give - me the best job you have.” - </p> - <p> - “You win,” poor Jerome admitted. - </p> - <p> - “Hold the job open thirty days. At the end of that period I'll - give you a definite answer, Neddy.” - </p> - <p> - “There is no Balm in Gilead,” Jerome replied sadly. “Blessed - are they that expect nothing, for they shall not be disappointed.” - </p> - <p> - “It's six-thirty,” Webster suggested. “Let's - eat. Last call for that omelette soufflé, and we'll go to a show - afterward. By the way, Neddy, how do you like this suit? Fellow in Salt - Lake built it for me—ninety bucks!” - </p> - <p> - But Jerome was not interested in clothing and similar foolishness. He only - knew that he had lost the services of a mining engineer for whom he had - searched the country for a month. He rose, dusting the cigar ashes from - his vest, and followed sulkily. - </p> - <p> - Despite the evidences of “grouch” which Jerome brought to the - dinner table with John Stuart Webster, he was not proof against the latter's - amazing vitality and boundless good spirits. The sheer weight of the - Websterian optimism and power of enjoying simple things swept all of - Jerome's annoyance from him as a brisk breeze dissipates the - low-lying fog that hides a pleasant valley, and ere the second cocktail - had made its appearance, the president of the Colorado Consolidated Mines - Company, Limited, was doing his best to help Webster enjoy this one - perfect night snatched from the grim processional of sunrise and sunset - that had passed since last he had dallied with the fleshpots—that - were to pass ere he should dally with them again according to his peculiar - nature and inclination. - </p> - <p> - Lovingly, lingeringly, Mr. Webster picked his way through the <i>hors d'ouvres</i>, - declared against the soup as too filling, mixed the salad after a recipe - of his own, served it and consumed it prior to the advent of the entrée, - which if not the fashion in the West, at present, has not as yet gone - entirely out of fashion. He revelled in breast of pheasant, with asparagus - tips, and special baked potato; he thrilled with champagne at twelve - dollars the quart, and a tender light came into his quizzical glance at - sight of a brick of ice cream in four colours; he cheered for the omelette - soufflé. In the end he demanded a tiny cheese fit for active service, - cracked himself a peck of assorted nuts, and with a pot of black coffee - and the best cigars possible of purchase in Denver, he leaned back at his - ease and forgot the theatre in the long-denied delight of yarning with his - old friend. - </p> - <p> - At one o'clock next morning they were still seated in the cosy - grill, smoking and talking. Jerome looked at his watch. - </p> - <p> - “Great grief, Johnny!” he declared. “I must be trotting - along. Haven't been out this late in years.” - </p> - <p> - “It's the shank of the evening, Neddy,” Webster pleaded, - “and I'm hungry again. We'll have a nice broiled - lobster, with drawn butter—eh, Ned? And another quart of that - '98?” - </p> - <p> - “My liver would never stand it. I'd be in bed for a week,” - Jerome protested. “See you at the club to-morrow afternoon before - you leave, I presume.” - </p> - <p> - “If I get through with my shopping in time,” Webster answered, - and reluctantly abandoning the lobster and accessories, he accompanied - Jerome to the door and saw him safely into a taxicab. - </p> - <p> - “Sure you won't think it over, Jack, and give up this crazy - proposition?” he pleaded at parting. - </p> - <p> - Webster shook his head. “I sniff excitement and adventure and profit - in Sobrante, Neddy, and I've just got to go look-see. I'm like - an old burro staked out knee-deep in alfalfa just now. I won't take - kindly to the pack—-” - </p> - <p> - “And like an old burro, you won't be happy until you've - sneaked through a hole in the fence to get out into a stubble-field and - starve.” Jerome swore halfheartedly and promulgated the trite - proverb that life is just one blank thing after the other—an - inchoate mass of liver and disappointment! - </p> - <p> - “Do you find it so?” Webster queried sympathetically. - </p> - <p> - Suspecting that he was being twitted, Jerome looked up sharply, prepared - to wither Webster with that glance. But no, the man was absolutely - serious; whereupon Jerome realized the futility of further argument and - gave John Stuart Webster up for a total loss. Still, he could not help - smiling as he reflected how Webster had planned a year of quiet enjoyment - and Fate had granted him one brief evening. He marvelled that Webster - could be so light-hearted and contented under the circumstances. - </p> - <p> - Webster read his thoughts. “Good-bye, old man,” he said, and - extended his hand. “Don't worry about me. Allah is always kind - to fools, my friend; sorrow is never their portion. I've led rather - a humdrum life. I've worked hard and never had any fun or excitement - to speak of, and in answering Billy's call I have a feeling that I - am answering the call of a great adventure.” - </p> - <p> - He did not know how truly he spoke, of course, but if he had, that - knowledge would not have changed his answer. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER V - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE morning - following his decision to play the rôle of angel to Billy Geary's - mining concession in Sobrante, John Stuart Webster, like Mr. Pepys, was up - betimes. - </p> - <p> - Nine o'clock found him in the office of his friend Joe Daingerfield, - of the Bingham Engineering Works, where, within the hour, he had in his - characteristically decisive fashion purchased the machinery for a - ten-stamp mill and an electric light plant capability of generating two - hundred and fifty horsepower two electric hoists with cable, half a dozen - steel ore buckets, as many more ore-cars with five hundred feet of rail, a - blacksmithing outfit, a pump, motors, sheet steel to line the - crushing-bins and form shovelling platforms for the ore in the workings, - picks, shovels drills, and so forth. It was a nice order and Dangerfield - fwas delighted. - </p> - <p> - “This is going to cost you about half your fortune, Jack,” he - informed Webster when the order was finally made up. - </p> - <p> - Webster grinned. “You don't suppose I'm chump enough to - pay for it now, do you, Joe?” he queried. - </p> - <p> - “You'll pay at least half, my son. We love you, Jack; we - honour and respect you; but this stuff is going to Central America, and in - the event of your premature demise, we might not get it back. They have - wars down there, you know, and when those people are war-mad, they destroy - things.” - </p> - <p> - “I know. But I'm going first to scout the country, Joe, and in - the meantime keep all this stuff in your warehouse until I authorize you - by cable to ship, when you can draw on me at sight for the entire invoice - with bill of lading attached. If, upon investigation, I find that this - mine isn't all my partner thinks it is, I'll cable a - cancellation, and you can tear that nice fat order up and forget it. I don't - intend to have you and that gang of penny-pinching card-room engineers up - at the Engineers' Club remind me of the old adage that a fool and - his money are soon parted.” - </p> - <p> - From Daingerfield's office Webster went forth to purchase a - steamer-trunk, his railway ticket and sleeping-car reservation—after - which he returned to his hotel and set about packing for the journey. - </p> - <p> - He sighed regretfully as he folded his brand-new raiment, packed it in - moth balls in his wardrobe-trunk, and ordered the trunk sent to a storage - warehouse. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I was a giddy old bird of paradise for one night, at least,” - he comforted himself, as he dressed instead in a suit of light-weight - olive drab goods in which he hoped to enjoy some measure of cool comfort - until he should reach Buenaventura and thus become acquainted with the - foibles of fashion in that tropical centre. - </p> - <p> - The remainder of the afternoon he spent among his old friends of the - Engineers' Club, who graciously tendered him a dollar table d'hote - dinner that evening and saw him off for his train at ten o'clock, - with many a gloomy prophecy as to his ultimate destiny—the - prevailing impression appearing to be that he would return to them in a - neat long box labelled: <i>This Side Up—With Care—Use No Hooks</i>. - </p> - <p> - Old Neddy Jerome, as sour and cross as a setting hen,' accompanied - him in the taxicab to the station, loth to let him escape and pleading to - the last, in a forlorn hope that Jack Webster's better nature would - triumph over his friendship and boyish yearning for adventure. He clung to - Webster's arm as they walked slowly down the track and paused at the - steps of the car containing the wanderer's reservation, just as a - porter, carrying some hand-baggage, passed them by, followed by a girl in - a green tailor-made suit. As she passed, John Stuart Webster looked fairly - into her face, started as if bee-stung, and hastily lifted his hat. The - girl briefly returned his scrutiny with sudden interest, decided she did - not know him, and reproved him with a glance that even passé old Neddy - Jerome did not fail to assimilate. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0003" id="linkimage-0003"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0075.jpg" alt="0075 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0075.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - “Wow, wow!” he murmured. “The next time you try that, - Johnny Webster, be sure you're right——” - </p> - <p> - “Good land o' Goshen, Neddy,” Webster replied. “Fry - me in bread-crumbs, if that isn't the same girl! Come to think of - it, the conductor who gave me her name told me her ticket called for a - stop-over in Denver! Let me go, Neddy. Quick! Good-bye, old chap. I'm - on my way.” - </p> - <p> - “Nonsense! The train doesn't pull out for seven minutes yet. - Who is she, John, and why does she excite you so?” Jerome recognized - in his whimsical friend the symptoms of a most unusual malady—with - Webster—and so he held the patient fast by the arm. - </p> - <p> - “Who is she, you ancient horse-thief? Why, if I have my way—and - I'm certainly going to try to have it—she's the future - Mrs. W.” - </p> - <p> - “Alas! Poor Yorick, I knowed him well,” Jerome answered. - “Take a tip from the old man, John. I've been through the mill - and I know. Never marry a girl that can freeze you with a glance. It isn't - safe, and remember, you're not as young as you used to be. By the - way, what's the fair charmer's name?” - </p> - <p> - “I've got it down in my memorandum book, but I can't - recall it this minute—Spanish name.” - </p> - <p> - “John, my dear boy, be careful,” Neddy Jerome counseled. - “Stick to your own kind of people——” - </p> - <p> - “I'll not. That girl is as trim and neat and beautiful as a - newly minted guinea. What do I want with a Scotch lassie six feet tall and - a believer in hell-fire and infant damnation?” - </p> - <p> - “Is this—a—er—a nice girl, John?” - </p> - <p> - “How do I know—I mean, how dare you ask? Of course she's - nice. Can't you see she is? And besides, why should you be so - fearful——” - </p> - <p> - “I'll have you understand, young man, that I have considerable - interest in the girl you're going to marry. Drat it, boy, if you - marry the wrong girl she may interfere with my plans. She may be a - spoil-sport and not want to live up at the mine—after you return - from this wild-goose chase, dragging your fool tail behind you. By the - way, where did you first meet this girl? Who introduced you?” - </p> - <p> - “I haven't met her, and I've never been introduced,” - Webster complained, and poured forth the tale of his adventure on the - train from Death Valley. Neddy was very sympathetic. - </p> - <p> - “Well, no wonder she didn't recognize you when you saluted her - to-night,” he agreed. “Thought you were another brute of a man - trying to make a mash. By thunder, Jack, I'm afraid you made a - mistake when you shed your whiskers and buried your old clothes. You don't - look nearly so picturesque and romantic now, and maybe she'll refuse - to believe you're the same man!” - </p> - <p> - “I don't care what she thinks. I found her, I lost her, and I've - found her again; and I'm not going to take any further chances. I - wired a detective agency to pick her up in Salt Lake and trail her to New - Orleans and get me all the dope on her, while I was in temporary - retirement with my black eye. Brainless fellows, these amateur detectives. - I'll never employ one again. I described her accurately—told - them she was beautiful and that she was wearing a green tailor-made suit; - and will you believe me, Neddy, they reported to me next day that their - operative failed to pick her up at the station? He said three beautiful - women got off the train there, and that none of them wore a green dress.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, it's just barely possible she may have another dress,” - Jerome retorted slyly. “Women are funny that way. They change their - dresses about as often as they change their minds.” - </p> - <p> - “Why, that's so,” Webster answered innocently. “I - never thought of that.” - </p> - <p> - The porter, having delivered his charge's baggage in her section, - was returning for another tip. Webster reached out and accosted him. - </p> - <p> - “Henry,” he said, “do you want to earn a dollar?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sah. Yes indeed, sah.' - </p> - <p> - “Where did you stow that young lady's hand-baggage?” - </p> - <p> - “Lower Six, Car Nine, sah.” - </p> - <p> - “I have a weakness for coloured boys who are quick at figures,” - Webster declared, and dismissed the porter with the gratuity. He turned to - Jerome. “Neddy, I feel that I am answering the call to a great - adventure,” he declared solemnly. - </p> - <p> - “I know it, Jack. Good-bye, son, and God bless you. If your fit of - insanity passes within ninety days, cable me; and if you're broke, - stick the Colorado Con' for the cable tolls.” - </p> - <p> - “Good old wagon!” Webster replied affectionately. Then he - shook hands and climbed aboard the train. The instant he disappeared in - the vestibule, however, Neddy Jerome waddled rapidly down the track to Car - Nine, climbed aboard, and made his way to Lower Six. The young lady in the - green tailor-made suit was there, looking idly out the window. - </p> - <p> - “Young lady,” Jerome began, “may I presume to address - you for a moment on a matter of very great importance to you? Don't - be afraid of me, my dear. I'm old enough to be your father, and - besides, I'm one of the nicest old men you ever met.” - </p> - <p> - She could not forbear a smile. “Very well, sir,” she replied. - </p> - <p> - Neddy Jerome produced a pencil and card. “Please write your name on - this card,” he pleaded, “and I'll telegraph what I want - to say to you. There'll be a man coming through this car in a - minute, and I don't want him to see me here—besides which, the - train leaves in half a minute, and I live in Denver and make it a point to - be home and in bed not later than ten each night. Please trust me, young - lady.” ^ - </p> - <p> - The young lady did not trust him, however, although she wrote on the card. - Jerome thanked her and fled as fast as his fat old legs could carry him. - Under the station arc he read the card. - </p> - <p> - “'Henrietta Wilkins,'” he murmured. “By the - gods, one would never suspect a name like that belonged to a face like - that. I know that name is going to jar Jack and cause him to seethe with - ambition to change it. He'll trim the <i>Henrietta</i> down to plain - <i>Retta</i>, and change <i>Wilkins to Webster!</i> By jingo, it <i>would</i> - be strange if that madman persuaded her to marry him. I hope he does. If I'm - any judge of character, Jack Webster won't be cruel enough to chain - that vision to Sobrante; and besides, she's liable to make him - decide who's most popular with him—Henrietta or Billy Geary. - If she does, I'll play Geary to lose. However, if that confirmed old - bachelor wants to chase rainbows, I might as well help him out, since - whichever way the cat jumps I can't lose. It's to my interest - to have him marry that girl, or any girl, for that matter, because she'll - have something to say about the advisability of kicking aside what - amounts, approximately, to thirty thousand a year, in order to sink the - family bankroll in a wildcat mine in the suburbs of hell. Well! Needs must - when the devil drives.” And he entered the station telegraph office - and commenced to write. - </p> - <p> - An hour later Miss Dolores Ruey, alias Henrietta Wilkins, was handed this - remarkably verbose and truly candid telegram: - </p> - <p> - Denver, Colo., Aug. 7, 1913. Miss Henrietta Wilkins, - </p> - <p> - Lower 6, Car 9, - </p> - <p> - On board train 24. - </p> - <p> - Do you recall the bewhiskered, ragged individual you met on the S.P., L.A. - & S.L. train in Death Valley ten days ago? He thrashed a man who - annoyed you, but owing to a black eye and his generally unpresentable - appearance, he remained in his stateroom the remainder of the trip and you - did not see him again until to-night. He lifted his hat to you to-night, - and you almost killed him with a look. It did not occur to him that you - would not recognize him disguised as a gentleman, and he lifted his hat on - impulse. Do not hold it against him. The sight of you again set his reason - tottering on its throne, and he told me his sad story. - </p> - <p> - This man, John Stuart Webster, is wealthy, single, forty, fine, and crazy - as a March hare. He is in love with you. - </p> - <p> - You might do worse than fall in love with him. He is the best mining - engineer in the world, and he is now aboard the same train with you, en - route to New Orleans, thence to take the steamer to Buenaventura, - Sobrante, C. A., where he is to meet another lunatic and finance a hole in - the ground. He has just refused a thirty-thousand-dollar-a-year job from - me to answer the call of a mistaken friendship. I do not want him to go to - Sobrante. If you marry him, he will not. If you do not marry him, you - still might arrange to make him listen to reason. If you can induce him to - come to work for me within the next ninety days, whether you marry him or - not, I will give you five thousand dollars the day he reports on the job. - Please bear in mind that he does not know I am doing this. If he did, he - would kill me, but business is business, and this is a plain business - proposition. I am putting you wise, so you will know your power and can - exercise it if you care to earn the money. If not, please forget about it. - At any rate, please do me the favour to communicate with me on the - subject, if at all interested. - </p> - <p> - Edward P. Jerome. - </p> - <p> - President Colorado Consolidated Mines, Limited. - </p> - <p> - Care Engineers' Club. - </p> - <p> - The girl read and reread this telegram several times, and presently a slow - little smile commenced to creep around the corners of her adorable mouth, - for out of the chaos of emotions induced by Ned Jerome's amazing - proposition, the humour of the situation had detached itself to the - elimination of everything else. - </p> - <p> - “I believe that amazing old gentleman is absolutely dependable,” - was the decision at which she ultimately arrived, and calling for a - telegraph blank, she wired the old schemer: - </p> - <p> - Five thousand not enough money. Make it ten thousand and I will guarantee - to deliver the man within ninety days. I stay on this train to New - Orleans. - </p> - <p> - Henrietta. - </p> - <p> - That telegram arrived at the Engineers' Club about midnight, and - pursuant to instructions, the night barkeeper read it and phoned the - contents to Neddy Jerome, who promptly telephoned his reply to the - telegraph office, and then sat on the edge of his bed, scratching his toes - and meditating. - </p> - <p> - “That's a remarkable young woman,” he decided, “and - business to her finger-tips. Like the majority of her sex, she's out - for the dough. Well, I've done my part, and it's now up to - Jack Webster to protect himself in the clinches and breakaways.” - </p> - <p> - About daylight a black hand passed Neddy Jerome's reply through the - berth-curtains to Dolores Ruey. She read: - </p> - <p> - Accept. When you deliver the goods, communicate with me and get your - money. - </p> - <p> - Jerome. - </p> - <p> - She snuggled back among the pillows and considered the various aspects of - this amazing contract which she had undertaken with a perfect stranger. - Hour after hour she lay there, thinking over this. - </p> - <p> - As she passed, John Stuart Webster looked fairly into her face, v started - as if bee-stung, and hastily lifted his hat preposterous situation, and - the more she weighed it, the more interesting and attractive the - proposition appeared. But one consideration troubled her. How would the - unknown knight manage an introduction? Or, if he failed to manage it, how - was she to overcome that obstacle? - </p> - <p> - “Oh, dear,” she murmured, “I do hope he's brave.” - </p> - <p> - She need not have worried. Hours before, the object of her thought had - settled all that to his own complete satisfaction, and as a consequence - was sleeping peacefully and gaining strength for whatever of fortune, good - or ill, the morrow might bring forth. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER VI - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">D</span>AY was dawning in - Buenaventura, republic of Sobrante, as invariably it dawns in the tropics—without - extended preliminary symptoms. The soft, silvery light of a full moon that - had stayed out scandalously late had merged imperceptibly into gray; the - gray was swiftly yielding place to a faint crimson that was spreading and - deepening upward athwart the east. - </p> - <p> - In the Calle Nueva a game cock, pride of an adoring family of Sobrante's - lower class, crowed defiance to a neighbouring bird. A dog barked. From - the patch of vivid green at the head of the Calle San Rosario a troupe of - howling monkeys raised a sun-up cheer that marked the finish of a night of - roystering; from wattled hut and adobe <i>casa</i> brunette women in red - calico wrappers came forth, sleepy-eyed and dishevelled; and presently - from a thousand little adobe fireplaces in a thousand backyards thin blue - spirals of smoke mounted—incense to the household gods of Sobrante—Tortilla - and Frijoles. Brown men, black men, lemon-tinted men, and white men whose - fingernails showed blue instead of white at the base, came to the doors of - their respective habitations, leaned against them, lighted post-breakfast - cigarettes, and waited for somebody to start something. - </p> - <p> - To these indolent watchers of the dawn was vouchsafed presently the sight - of Senora Concepcion Josefina Morelos on her way to early mass at the - Catedral de la Vera Cruz. Men called to each other, when she passed, that - Senora Morelos shortly would seek, in a Carmelite convent, surcease from - the grief caused by the premature demise of her husband, General Pablo - Morelos, at the hands of a firing-squad in the <i>cuartel</i> yard, as a - warning to others of similar kidney to forbear and cease to tamper with - the machinery of politics. And when Senora Morelos had passed, came - Alberto Guzman with two smart mules hitched to a dilapidated street-car; - came Don Juan Cafetéro, <i>peseta</i>-less, still slightly befuddled from - his potations of the night before, and raising the echoes in the <i>calle</i> - with a song singularly alien to his surroundings: - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Green were the fields where my forefathers dwelt— - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - O, Erin, mavourneen, slan laght go bragh! - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - At the theatre we sit patiently waiting for the stage electrician to - switch on the footlights and warn us that the drama is about to begin. Let - us, in a broader sense, appropriate that cue to mark the beginning of the - drama with which this story deals; instead of a stage, however, we have - the republic of Sobrante; in lieu of footlights we have the sun popping up - out of the Caribbean Sea. - </p> - <p> - Those actors whose acquaintance we have so briefly made thus far must be - presumed to be supers crossing the stage and loitering thereon while the - curtain is down. Now, therefore, let us drive them into the wings while - the curtain rises on a tropical scene. - </p> - <p> - In the <i>patio</i> of Mother Jenks's establishment in the Çalle de - Concordia, No. 19, the first shafts of morning light were filtering - obliquely through the orange trees and creeping in under the deep, - Gothic-arched veranda flanking the western side of the <i>patio</i>, to - reveal a dusky maiden of more or less polyglot antecedents, asleep upon a - bright, parti-coloured blanket spread over a wicker couch. - </p> - <p> - Presently, through the silent reaches of the Calle de Concordia, the sound - of a prodigious knocking and thumping echoed, as of some fretful - individual seeking admission at the street door of El Buen Amigo, by which - euphonious designation Mother Jenks's caravansary was known to the - public of Buenaventura. In the second story, front, a window slid back and - a woman's voice, husky with that huskiness that speaks so accusingly - of cigarettes and alcohol, demanded: - </p> - <p> - “<i>Quien es?</i> Who is it? <i>Que quiere usted?</i> Wot do yer - want?” - </p> - <p> - “Ye might dispinse wit' that paraqueet conversation whin - addhressin' the likes av me,” a voice replied. “'Tis - me—Cafferty. I have a cablegram Leber give me to deliver——” - </p> - <p> - “Gawd's truth! Would yer wake the 'ole 'ouse with - yer'ammering?” - </p> - <p> - “All right. I'll not say another worrd!” - </p> - <p> - A minute passed; then the same husky voice, the owner of which had - evidently descended from her sleeping chamber above, spoke in a steadily - rising crescendo from a room just off the veranda: - </p> - <p> - “Car-may-lee-ta-a-a!” - </p> - <p> - We can serve no useful purpose by endeavouring to conceal from the reader, - even temporarily, the information that Carmelita was the sleeping naiad on - the couch; also that she continued to sleep, for hers was that quality of - slumber which is the heritage of dark blood and defies any commotion short - of that incident to a three-alarm fire. Three times the husky voice - addressed Carmelita with cumulative vehemence; but Carmelita slept on, and - presently the husky voice ceased to cry aloud for her. Followed the sound - of bare feet thudding across the floor. - </p> - <p> - Forth from the house came Mother Jenks, a redfaced, coarse-jowled, - slightly bearded lady of undoubted years and indiscretion, in curl-papers - and nightgown, barefoot and carrying a bucket. One scornful glance at the - sleeping Carmelita, and mother Jenks crossed to the fountain plashing in - the centre of the <i>patio</i>, filled her bucket, stepped to the veranda - and dashed three gallons of tepid water into Carme-lita's face. - </p> - <p> - <i>That</i> awakened Carmelita—Mother Jenks's raucous “Git - up, yer bloody wench! Out, yer 'ussy, an' cook <i>almuerzo</i>. - Gawd strike me pink, if I don't give yer the sack for this—an' - sleepin' on my best new blenkit!” being in the nature of a - totally unnecessary exordium. - </p> - <p> - Carmelita shrieked and fled, while Mother Jenks scuttled along in pursuit - like a belligerent old duck, the while she heaped opprobrium upon - Carmelita and all her tribe, the republic of Sobrante, its capital, its - government officials, and the cable company: Finally she disappeared into - El Buen Amigo with a hearty Cockney oath at her own lack of foresight in - ever permitting her sainted 'Enery to set foot on a foreign shore. - </p> - <p> - Once inside, Mother Jenks proceeded down a tiled hallway to the <i>cantina</i> - of her hostelry and opened the street door a few inches. Without the - portal stood Don Juan Cafetéro, of whom a word or two before proceeding. - </p> - <p> - To begin, Don Juan Cafetéro was not his real name, but rather a free - Spanish translation of the Gaelic, John Cafferty. As would be indicated by - the song he was singing when first we made his acquaintance, coupled with - the unstable condition of his legs, Mr. Cafferty was an exile of Erin with - a horrible thirst. He had first arrived in Sobrante some five years - before, as section-boss in the employ of the little foreign-owned - narrow-gauge railway which ran from Buenaventura on the Caribbean coast to - San Miguel de Padua, up-country where the nitrate beds were located. Prior - to his advent the railroad people had tried many breeds of section-boss - without visible results, until a Chicago man, who had come to Sobrante to - install an intercommunicating telephone system in the Government - buildings, suggested to the superintendent of the road, who was a German, - that the men made for bosses come from Erin's isle; wherefore Mr. - Cafferty had been imported at a price of five dollars a day gold. Result—a - marked improvement in the road-bed and consequently the train-schedules, - and the ultimate loss of the Cafferty soul. - </p> - <p> - Don Juan, with the perversity of the Celt, and contrary to precept and - example, forbore to curse Sobrante. On the contrary, he liked Sobrante - immediately upon arrival and so stated in public—this unusual state - of affairs doubtless being due to the fact that his job furnished much of - excitement and interest, for his driving tactics were not calculated to - imbue in his dusky section-hands a love for the new section-boss; and from - the day he took charge until he lost the job, the life of Don Juan - Cafetéro had been equivalent in intrinsic value to two squirts of swamp - water—possibly one. - </p> - <p> - Something in the climate of Sobrante must have appealed to a touch of <i>laissez - faire</i> in Don Juan's amiable nature, for in the course of time he - had taken unto himself, without bell or book, after the fashion of the - proletariat of Sobrante, the daughter of one Estebân Manuel Enrique José - Maria Pasqual y Miramontes, an estimable peon who was singularly glad to - have his daughter off his hands and no questions asked. Following the - fashion of the country, however, Esteban had forthwith moved the remainder - of his numerous progeny under the mantle of Don Juan Cafetéro's - philanthropy, and resigned a position which for many years he had not - enjoyed—to wit: salting and packing green hides at a local <i>abattoir</i>. - This foolhardy economic move had so incensed Don Juan that in a fit of - pique he spurned his father-in-law (we must call Esteban something and so - why split hairs?) under the tails of his <i>camisa</i>, with such vigour - as to sever forever the friendly relations hitherto existing between the - families. Mrs. Cafferty (again we transgress, but what of it?) - subsequently passed away in childbirth, and no sooner had she been - decently buried than Don Juan took a week off to drown his sorrows. - </p> - <p> - In this condition he had encountered Esteban Manuel Enrique José Maria - Pasqual y Miramontes and called him out of his name—for which there - appears to be little excuse, in view of the many the latter possessed. In - the altercation that ensued Esteban, fully convinced that he had received - the nub end of the transaction from start to finish, cut Don Juan severely - in the region of the umbilicus; Don Juan had thereupon slain Esteban with - a .44-calibre revolver, and upon emerging from the railroad hospital a - month later had been tried by a Sobrantean magistrate and fined the sum of - twenty thousand dollars, legal tender of the Republic of Sobrante. Of - course he had paid it off within six months from his wages as - section-boss, but the memory of the injustice always rankled in him, and - gradually he moved down the scale of society from section-boss to day - labourer, day labourer to tropical tramp, and tropical tramp to - beach-comber, in which latter state he had now existed for several months. - </p> - <p> - While waiting to round out the brief period of existence which drink and - the devil had left him, this poor human fragment had become a protégé of - Ignatz Leber, an Alsatian, manager for a German importing and exporting - house, and agent for the cable company. By the grace of the philanthropic - Ignatz, Don Juan slept under Leber's warehouse and ate in his - kitchen. - </p> - <p> - To return to Mother Jenks. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER VII - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">B</span>EFORE Don Juan - could even utter a matutinal greeting, Mother Jenks laid finger to lip and - silenced him. “Go back to Leber's and return in an hour,” - she whispered. “I 'ave my reasons for wantin' that - bloomin' cablegram delivered later.” - </p> - <p> - Don Juan hadn't the least idea what Mother Jenks's reasons - might be, but he presumed she was up to some chicanery, and so he winked - his bloodshot eye very knowingly and nodded his acquiescence in the - program; whereupon Mother Jenks started to close the door. Instantly Don - Juan's foot was in the jamb; in a hoarse whisper he said: - </p> - <p> - “Whilst ye're askin' favours, woman dear, ye might have - the kindness to ask me if I have a mouth.” - </p> - <p> - “Bloomin' well I knows yer 'ave a mouth, for bloomin' - well I smell yer blawsted breath,” Mother Jenks retorted. However, - the present was no time to raise an issue with Don Juan, and so she - slipped behind the bar of her <i>cantina</i>, poured five fingers of <i>aguardiente</i>, - the local brand of disturbance, and handed it to Don Juan through the - crack in the door. - </p> - <p> - “Here's all the hair off your head,” Don Juan Cafetéro - saluted her amiably. He tossed it off at a gulp, handed Mother Jenks the - glass, and departed with a whispered promise to return in an hour. - </p> - <p> - When he had gone, Mother Jenks went behind the bar and fortified herself - with her morning's morning—which rite having been performed, - her sleep-benumbed brain livened up immediately. - </p> - <p> - “Gord's truth!” the lady murmured. “An' me - about to turn him adrift for the lawst fortnight! Well for 'im - 'e allers hadmired the picture o' my sainted 'Enery, as - was the spittin' image of his own fawther. 'Evings! 'Ell's - bells! But that was a bit of a tight squeak! Just as I'm fully - conwinced 'e's beat it an' I'm left 'oldin' - the sack, all along o' my kindness of 'eart, 'e gets the - cablegram 'e's been lookin' for this two months past; an' - 'e allers claimed as 'ow any time'e got a cablegram it'd - be an answer to 'is letter, with money to foller! My word, but that - was touch an' go! An' yet Willie's got such a tykin' - w'y about him, I might 'ave knowed 'e was a gentleman!” - </p> - <p> - Still congratulating herself upon her good fortune in intercepting Don - Juan Cafetéro, Mother Jenks proceeded upstairs to her chamber, clothed - herself, and adjourned to the kitchen, where Carmelita was already engaged - in the preparation of the morning meal. After giving orders for an extra - special breakfast for two, Mother Jenks returned to her <i>cantina</i>, - and formally opened the same for the business of that day and night; while - a lank Jamaica negro swept out the room and cleaned the cuspidors, she - washed and polished her glassware and set her back bar in order. To her - here came presently, via the tiled hallway, the object of her solicitude, - a young man on the sunny side of thirty. At the first glance one suspected - this individual to be a member of the Caucasian race; at the second glance - one verified this suspicion. He was thin for one of his height and breadth - of chest; in colour his countenance resembled that of a sick Chinaman. His - hair was thick and wavy but lustreless; his dark blue eyes carried a hint - of jaundice; and a generous mouth, beneath an equally generous upper lip, - gave ample ground for the suspicion that while Mr. William Geary's - speech denoted him an American citizen, at least one of his maternal - ancestors had been wooed and won by an Irishman. An old panama hat, sad - relic of a prosperous past, a pair of soiled buckskin pumps, a suit of - unbleached linen equally befouled, and last but not least, the remnants of - a smile that much hard luck could never quite obliterate, completed his - attire—and to one a stranger in the tropics would appear to - constitute a complete inventory of Mr. Geary's possessions. An - experienced person, however, would have observed immediately that Mother - Jenks's seedy guest had been bitten deeply and often by mosquitoes - and was, in consequence, the proprietor of a low malarial fever, with its - concomitant chills. - </p> - <p> - “<i>Dulce corazon mio</i>, I extend a greeting,” he called at - the entrance. “I trust you rested well last night, Mother Jenks, and - that no evil dreams were born of your midnight repast of <i>frijoles - refritos</i>, marmalade, and arf-an'-arf!” - </p> - <p> - “Chop yer spoofin', Willie,” Mother Jenks simpered. - “My heye! So I'm yer sweet'eart, eh? Yer wheedlin' - blighter, makin' love to a girl as is old enough to be yer mother!” - </p> - <p> - “A woman,” Mr. Geary retorted sagely and not a whit abashed, - “is at the apex of her feminine charms at thirty-seven.” - </p> - <p> - He knew his landlady to be not a day under fifty, but such is the ease - with which the Irish scatter their blarney, and such the vanity of the - gentler sex (for despite Mother Jenks's assault upon Carmelita, we - include the lady in that pleasing category), that neither Billy Geary nor - Mother Jenks regarded this pretty speech in the light of an observation - immaterial, inconsequential and not germane to the matter at issue. For - Mother Jenks was the eternal feminine, and it warmed the cockles of her - heart to be told she was only thirty-seven, even though reason warned her - that the compliment was not garnished with the sauce of sincerity. As for - Billy, the sight of Mother Jenks swallowing this specious bait, together - with hook, line, and sinker, always amused him and for the nonce took his - mind off his own troubles. Nevertheless, there was a deeper reason for his - blarney. This morning, watching the tell tale tinge of pleasure underlying - the alcohol-begotten hue of the good creature's face, he felt almost - ashamed of his own heartlessness—almost, but not quite. - </p> - <p> - Let us take Billy's view of his own case and view his mendacity with - a kindly and tolerant eye. For two months he had existed entirely because - of the leniency of Mother Jenks in the matter of credit. - </p> - <p> - He could not pay her cash, devoutly as he hoped to do some day, and he - considered it of the most vital importance that in the interim he should - somehow survive. Therefore, in lieu of cash he paid her compliments, which - she snapped up greedily. - </p> - <p> - In the cold gray dawn of the morning after Mother Jenks always detected - the bug in Billy's amber and vowed to rout him bag and baggage that - very day; but when one is fond of blarney, it is hard indeed to destroy - the source of it; and while Mother Jenks's courage had mounted to - the point of action many a time, in the language of the sporting extra, - Billy had always “beaten her to the punch”; for when instinct - warned him that Mother Jenks was about to talk business, he could always - rout her by declaring she was pencilling her eyebrows or rouging her - cheeks. - </p> - <p> - An inventive genius was Billy. He never employed the same defensive - tactics two days in succession, and when personal flattery threatened to - fail him, a large crayon reproduction of the late Henry Jenks, which hung - over the back bar, was a never-failing source of inspiration. - </p> - <p> - This was the “sainted'Enery” previously referred to by - Mother Jenks. He had been a sergeant in Her Brittanic Majesty's - Royal Horse Artillery, and upon retiring to the Reserve had harkened to a - proposition to emigrate to Sobrante and accept a commission as colonel of - artillery with the Government forces then in the throes of a revolutionary - attack. The rebels had triumphed, and as a result 'Enery had been - sainted via the customary expeditious route; whereupon his wife had had - recourse to her early profession of barmaid, and El Buen Amigo had - resulted. - </p> - <p> - However, let us return to our sheeps, as Mr. Geary would have expressed - it. Seemingly the effect of Billy's compliment was instantly - evident, for Mother Jenks set out two glasses and a bottle. - </p> - <p> - “I know yer a trifler, Willy Geary,” she simpered, “but - if I do s'y it as shouldn't, I was accounted as 'andsome - a barmaid as you'd find in Bristol town. I've lost my good - looks, what with grief an' worritin' since losin' my - sainted 'Enery, but I was 'andsome oncet.” - </p> - <p> - “I can well believe it, Mother—since you are handsome still! - For my part,” he continued confidentially, as with shaking hand he - filled his brandy-glass, “you'll excuse this drunkard's - drink, Mother, but I need it; I had the shakes again last night—for - my part, I prefer the full-blown rose to the bud.” - </p> - <p> - Mother Jenks fluttered like a <i>debutante</i> as she poured her drink. - They touched glasses, calloused worldlings that they were. - </p> - <p> - “'Ow,” said Mother Jenks, toasting the philandering - wretch. - </p> - <p> - “How!” He tossed off his drink. It warmed and strengthened - him, after his night of chills and fever, and brazenly he returned to the - attack. - </p> - <p> - “Changing the subject from feminine grace and charm to manly - strength and virtue, I've been marking lately the resolute poise of - your martyred husband's head on his fine military shoulders. There - was a man, if I may judge from his photograph, that would fight a wildcat.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, m'ybe 'e wouldn't!” Mother Jenks - hastened to declare. “You know, Willie, I was present w'en - they shot 'im, a-waitin' to claim 'is body. 'E - kisses me good-bye, an' says 'e: 'Brace up, ol' - girl. Remember your 'usband's been a sergeant in 'Er - Majesty's Royal 'Orse Artillery, an' don't let the - bloody blighters see yer cry.' Then 'e walks out front, with - 'is fine straight back to the wall, draws a circle on 'is blue - tunic with white chalk an' says: 'Shoot at that, yer - yeller-bellied bounders, an' be damned to yer!'” - </p> - <p> - “To be the widow of such a gallant son of Mars,” Billy - declared, “is a greater honour than being the wife of a duke.” - </p> - <p> - For the sake of 'Enery's memory Mother Jenks squeezed out a - tear. Billy would have egged her on to a lachrymal flood, for he knew she - would enjoy it, but at that moment entered Carmelita, to announce - breakfast. - </p> - <p> - Mother Jenks, recalling her husband's last advice, declined to let - even a Sobrantean girl see her weep. She composed herself instantly, - filled her glass again, and pushed the bottle to Billy. - </p> - <p> - “'Ave another peg with Mother, Willie.” - </p> - <p> - “I'll go you, Mother, although it's really my turn to - set 'em up. I would if I had the price. However, I'm expecting - action on that concession of mine pretty soon, Mother, and when I get - straightened out, they'll date time in the Calle de Concordia from - the spending toot I'll inaugurate. Ah, Mother,” he added with - a note of genuine gratitude and sincerity, “you've been - awfully good to me. I don't know what I'd have done without - you.” He laid his hand on her fat arm. “Mother, one of these - days I'll get mine, and when I do I'm going to stake you to a - nice little pub back in Bristol.” - </p> - <p> - She smiled at him with motherly tenderness and shook her head. In a - concrete niche in the mortuary of the Catedrâl de la Vera Cruz the bones - of her sainted 'Enery reposed, and when her hour came she would lie - beside him. Moreover, she was a tropical tramp. She had grown to like - Sobrante, for all her railing against it, and she knew she would never see - the chalk cliffs of Albion again. - </p> - <p> - “Yer a sweet boy, Willie,” she told him, “an' I'd - trust yer for double the score, s'help me. 'Eving knows I - 'aven't much, but wot I 'ave I shares freely with them I - likes. I 'ave a brace o' duck heggs, 'am an' - 'ot cakes, Willie, an' yer 'll breakfuss with Mother. - Duck heggs, 'am an' 'ot cakes, Willie. 'Ow's - that? Eh, yer precious byby.” - </p> - <p> - Billy's glistening eyes testified to the profundity of his feelings - at the prospect of this Lucullan feast. It had been long since Mother - Jenks's larder had yielded him anything more stable than brown - beans, tortillas, fried onions, and an occasional dab of marmalade, and - the task of filling in the corners of his appetite with free tropical - fruit had long since grown irksome. - </p> - <p> - Mother Jenks preceded him into the shady side of the veranda, where - ordinarily she was wont to breakfast in solitary state. Her table was set - for two this morning, however, but this extraordinary circumstance was - lost sight of by the shameless Billy in the prospect of one more real meal - before the chills and fever claimed their own. He flipped an adventurous - cockroach off the table and fell to with fine appetite. - </p> - <p> - He was dallying with a special brew of coffee, with condensed milk in it, - when the Jamaica negro entered from the <i>cantina</i> to announce Don - Juan Cafe-téro with a cablegram. - </p> - <p> - “A cablegram!” Mother Jenks cried. “Gord's truth! - I'll wager the pub it's for you, Willie.” - </p> - <p> - “I wonder! Can it be possible it's come at last?” Billy - cried incredulously. - </p> - <p> - “I'd not be surprised,” Mother Jenks replied. “Bob”—turning - to the negro, and addressing him in her own private brand of Spanish—“give - Don Juan a drink, if 'e 'asn't helped 'imself - while yer back is turned, an' bring the cablegram 'ere.” - </p> - <p> - Within the minute Bob returned with a long yellow envelope, which he - handed Mother Jenks. Without so much as a glance at the superscription, - she handed it to Billy Geary, who tore it open and read: - </p> - <p> - Los Angeles, Calif., U. S. A., August 16, 1913. - </p> - <p> - Henrietta Wilkins, - </p> - <p> - Calle de Concordia, No. 19, - </p> - <p> - Buenaventura, - </p> - <p> - Sobrante, C. A. - </p> - <p> - Leaving to-day to visit you. Will cable from New Orleans exact date - arrival. - </p> - <p> - Dolores. - </p> - <p> - The shadow of deep disappointment settled over Billy's face as he - read. Mother Jenks noted it instantly. - </p> - <p> - “Wot's 'e got to s'y, Willie?” she demanded. - </p> - <p> - “It isn't a he. It's a she,” Billy replied. - “Besides, the cablegram isn't for me at all. It's for - one Henrietta Wilkins, Calle de Concordia, Number Nineteen, and who the - devil Henrietta Wilkins may be is a mystery to me. Ever have any boarder - by that name, Mother?” - </p> - <p> - Mother Jenks's red face had gone white. “'Enrietta - Wilkins was my maiden nyme, Willie,” she confessed soberly, “an' - there's only one human as 'ud cable me or write me by that - nyme. Gord, Willie, wot's 'appened?” - </p> - <p> - “I'll read it to you, Mother.” - </p> - <p> - Billy read the message aloud; and when he had finished, to his amazement, - Mother Jenks laid her head on the table and began to weep. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER VIII - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>HEN Billy Geary - could reorganize himself, as it were, after the shock incident to his - discovery that the cablegram was not for him after all, he turned his - attention to Mother Jenks. Without quite realizing why he did so, Billy - decided that fear and not grief was at the bottom of the good creature's - distress, and in his awkward, masculine way he placed his arm around - Mother Jenks's shoulders, shook her gently, and bade her remember - that chaos might come and go again, but he, the said William Geary, would - remain her true and steadfast friend in any and all emergencies that might - occur. - </p> - <p> - “Gor' bless yer heart, Willie,” Mother Jenks sniffled. - “If this was only somethink I could hentrust to a man! But it ain't.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, suppose you tell me what it is and let me be the judge,” - Billy suggested. “I haven't got one <i>centavo</i> to rub - against the other, and on present form and past performances I'm the - last man in the world to handle an affair between two women, but—I - have a head on my shoulders, and nobody ever had reason to suspect that - head of being empty. Perhaps, if you care to give me your confidence, I - may be of service to you, Mother.” - </p> - <p> - “Willie,” his landlady wailed, “I dunno wot in 'ell - yer ever goin' to think o' me w'en I tell ye wot I've - been up to this past fifteen year.” - </p> - <p> - “Whatever you've been up to, Mother, it was a kind and - charitable deed—of that much I am certain,” Billy replied - loftily and—to his own surprise—sincerely. - </p> - <p> - “As Gord is my judge, Willie, it started out that w'y,” - moaned Mother Jenks, and she squeezed Billy's hand as if from that - yellow, shaking member she would draw aid and comfort. “'Er - nyme is Dolores Ruey.” - </p> - <p> - “Any relation to the Ruey family of Buenaventura?” - </p> - <p> - “A first cousin, Willie. 'Er father was Don Ricardo Ruey, <i>présidente</i> - av this blasted 'ell on earth w'en me an' my sainted - 'Enery first come to Buenaventura. 'E was too good for the - yeller-bellied beggars; 'e tried to do somethink for them an' - run the government on the square, an' they couldn't - hunderstand, all along o' 'avin' been kicked an' - cuffed by a long line of bloody rotters. It was Don Ricardo as gives my - sainted 'Enery 'is commission as colonel in the hartillery. - </p> - <p> - “That was all very well, you know, Willie, only Don Ricardo didn't - go far enough. If 'e'd only 'arkened to 'Enery's - advice an' imported a lot o' bloomin' Tommies to serve - 'Enery's guns, 'im an' 'Enery never would - 'ave faced that firin'-squad. Many's the time 'Enery's - said to me: ''Enrietta, me 'art's broke tryin' - to myke gunners out o' them blackamoors Don Ricardo gives me to - serve the screwguns. They've been born without a sense o' - distance!' Gor' bless you, Willie, my sainted 'Enery - 'ad no bloomin' use for a range-finder. 'E'd cast - 'is eye over the ground an' then try a shot for distance. M'ybe'e'd - be a bit short. 'A bit more elevation, <i>amigos</i>,' says - 'Enery, an' tries again. This time 'e's a bit over - it, m'ybe, but the third or fourth shot 'e 'as the range - an' stays right on the target. But then, Willie, as 'Enery - used to s'y to me: ''Enrietta, how in blazes can I serve - six guns? How can a colonel of hartillery come down off 'is 'orse - an do a gunner's work? It ain't dignified.'” - </p> - <p> - Billy nodded. He had heard that story so often in the past that he knew it - by heart; from all he could learn the sainted 'Enery quite resembled - a horse, in that he had room in his head for but one thought at a time. As - a gunner-sergeant he was doubtless a loss to the British service, but as a - colonel of So-brantean artillery he had tried to forget that once he had - been a gunner-sergeant! - </p> - <p> - “You've 'eard me tell,” Mother Jenks continued, - “'ow the rebels got 'arf a dozen Hamerican gunners—deserters - from the navy—an' blew 'Enery's battery to bits, - 'ow the Government forces fell back upon Buenaventura, an' as - 'ow w'en the dorgs begun to wonder if they mightn't - lose, they quit by the 'undreds an' went over to the rebel - side, leavin' Don Ricardo an' 'Enery an' m'ybe - fifty o' the gentry in the palace. In course they fought to a - finish; 'ristocrats, all of them, they 'ad to die fightin' - or facin' a firin'-squad.” - </p> - <p> - Again Billy nodded. He had heard the tale before, including the recital of - the sainted 'Enery's gallant dash from the blazing palace in - an effort to save Don Ricardo's only child, a girl of seven, and of - his capture and subsequent execution. - </p> - <p> - “That ended the revolution,” Mother Jenks concluded. “But - 'ere's somethink I've never told a livin' soul. - Shortly before 'Enery was hexecuted, 'e told me where 'e'd - 'id the youngster—in a culvert out on the Malecon; so I - 'ired a four-wheeler an' went out an' rescued the pore - lamb. She'd been 'idin' there thirty-six hours an' - was well-nigh dead, an' as there ain't no tellin' what a - mob o' these spiggoties 'll do when they're excited, I - 'id 'er until the harrival o' the next fruit steamer, w'en - I shipped 'er to New Orleans in care o' the stewardess. Hi - 'ad 'er put in the Catholic convent there, for as 'Enery - said: ''Enrietta, keep an eye on the little nipper, an' - do yer damndest to see she's raised a lydy. 'Er father was a - gentleman, an' you never want to forget 'e made you Mrs. - Colonel Jenks.' So Hi've made a lydy out o' her, Willie: - education, pianner lessons, paintin', singin', an' - deportmint. After she graduated from the convent, I 'ad her take a - course in the Uniwersity o' California—New Orleans wasn't - 'ealthy for'er, an' she needed a chynge o' climate—an' - for the last two years she's been teachin' in the 'igh - school in Los Angeles.” - </p> - <p> - “And you haven't seen her in all these years?” Geary - demanded. - </p> - <p> - “Not a look, Willie. She's been after me ever since she - graduated from the convent to let her come 'ome an' wisit me, - but Hi've told'er to wyte—that I'd be comin' - soon to wisit her. An' now, s'help me, she won't wait no - longer; she's cornin' to wisit me! Gor', Willie, she's - on her w'y!” - </p> - <p> - “So this cablegram would indicate,” Geary observed. “Nevertheless, - Mother, I'm at a loss to know why you should feel so cut up over the - impending visit.” - </p> - <p> - There was real fear in Mother Jenks's tear-dimmed eyes. “I - cawn't let'er see me,” she wailed. “I wasn't - this w'y w'en my sainted 'Enery hentrusted the lamb to - me; it wasn't until awfter they hexecuted 'Enery that I - commenced to slip—an' now look at me. Look at me, Willie - Geary; look at me, I s'y. Wot do yer see? Aw, don't tell me I'm - young an' 'andsome, for I knows wot I am. I'm a frowsy, - drunken, disreputable baggage, with no heducation or nothink. I've - raised'er a lydy on account of 'er bein' born a lydy an' - her father bein' good to me an my 'Enery—an' all - along, hever since she learned to write me a letter, I've been - 'Enrietta Wilkins to'er, an' Mother Jenks to every - beach-combin' beggar in the Caribbean tropics. I've lied to'er, - Willie. I've wrote 'er as 'ow 'er fawther, before - 'e died, give me enough money to heducate'er like a lydy——” - </p> - <p> - Again Mother Jenks's grief overcame her. “An' wot lovin' - letters my darlin' writes me,” she sobbed. “Calls me - 'er lovin' Aunt 'Enrietta, an' me—Gor', - Willie, I ain't respectable. She's comin' to see me—an' - I cawn't let'er. She mustn't know 'ow I got the - money for 'er heducation—sellin' 'ell-fire to a - pack of rotten dorgs an' consortin' with the scum of this - stinkin' 'ole! Oh, Willie, you've got to 'elp me. - I cawn't 'ave'er comin' to El Buen Amigo to see - me, an' I cawn't ruin 'er reputation by callin' on - 'er in public at the 'Otel Mateo. Oh, Gor', Willie, - Mother's come a cropper.” - </p> - <p> - Willie agreed with her. He patted the sinful gray head of his landlady and - waited for her to regain her composure, the while he racked his agile - brain for a feasible plan to fit the emergency. He realized it would be - quite useless to argue Mother Jenks into the belief that she might pull - herself together, so to speak, and run the risk of meeting with her ward; - for the old woman had been born in the slums of London and raised a - barmaid. She knew her place. She was not a lady and could never hope now - to associate with one, even in a menial capacity, so there was an end to - it! During the past fifteen years, the lower Mother Jenks had sunk in the - social scale, even of free-and-easy old Buenaventura, the higher had she - raised the one sweet note in her sordid life; not until the arrival of - that cablegram did she realize that during those fifteen years she had - been raising a barrier between her and the object of her stifled maternal - yearnings—a barrier which, to her class-controlled mind, could never - be swept away. - </p> - <p> - “She's been picturin' me in 'er mind all these - years, Willie—picturin' a fraud,” wailed Mother Jenks. - “If she sees me now, wot a shock she'll get, pore sweetheart—an' - 'er the spittin' himage of a hangel. And oh, Willie, while she - don't remember wot I looked like, think o' the shock if she - meets me! In 'er lawst letter she said as 'ow I was the only - hanchor she had in life. Ho, yes. A sweet-lookin' hanchor I am—an' - Hi was 'opin' to die before she found hout. I've got a - hanuerism in my 'eart, Willie, so the surgeon on the mail boat tells - me, an' w'en I go, I'll go like—that!” - Mother Jenks snapped her cigarette-stained fingers. “I 'ad the - doctor come ashore the last time <i>La Estrellita</i> was in, on account o' - 'im bein' a Hamerican an' up to snuff. An' Hi've - got 'ardenin' of the harteries, too. I'm fifty-seven, - Willie, an' since my sainted 'Enery passed away, I 'aven't - been no bloomin' hangel.” She wrung her hands. “Oh, w'y - in 'ell couldn't them harteries 'ave busted in time to - save my lamb the 'umiliatin' knowledge that she's be'oldin' - to the likes o' me for wot she's got—an' 'ow - I got it for'er.” - </p> - <p> - Billy Geary had a bright idea. “Well,” he said, “why not - die—temporarily—if you feel that way about it? You could come - back from the grave after she's gone.” - </p> - <p> - But Mother Jenks shook her head. “No,” she declared. “While - Dolores is self-supportin' now, still, if anythink 'appened an' - she was to need 'elp, 'elp is somethin' no ghost can - give. Think again, Willie. Gor', lad, w'ere's yer brains—an' - you with your stummick filled to bustin' with a breakfast fit for a - knight o' the bawth.” - </p> - <p> - “Well,” Billy countered thoughtfully, “apparently there's - no way of heading her off before she takes the steamer at New Orleans, so - we'll take it for granted she'll arrive here in due course. - About the time she's due, suppose you run up to San Miguel de Padua - for a couple of weeks and leave me to run El Buen Amigo in your absence. I'll - play fair with you, Mother, so help me. I'll account for every <i>centavo</i>. - I'll borrow some decent clothes from Leber the day the steamer gets - in; then I'll go aboard and look over the passenger-list, and if she's - aboard, I'll tell her you closed your house and started for - California to visit her on the last northbound steamer—that her - cablegram arrived just after you had started; that the cable company, - knowing I am a friend of yours, showed me the message and that I took it - upon myself to call and explain that as a result of your departure for the - United States it will be useless for her to land—useless and - dangerous, because cholera is raging in Buenaventura, although the port - authorities deny it——” - </p> - <p> - “Willie,” Mother Jenks interrupted impressively, a ghost of - her old debonair spirit shining through her tears, “yer don't - owe me a bloomin' sixpence! Yer've syved the day, syved my - reputation, an' syved a lydy's peace o' mind. Kiss me, - yer precious byby.” - </p> - <p> - So Billy kissed her—gravely and with filial reverence, for he had - long suspected Mother Jenks of being a pearl cast before swine, and now he - was certain of it. - </p> - <p> - “I'll send her back to the United States and promise to cable - you to await her there,” Billy continued. “Of course, we can't - help it if you and the cablegram miss connections, and once the young lady - is back in the United States, I dare say she'll have to stay there a - couple of years before she can save the price of another sea voyage. And - in the meantime she may marry——” - </p> - <p> - “Or that haneurism or my bally harteries may 'ave turned the - trick before that,” Mother Jenks suggested candidly but joyously. - “In course she'll be disappointed, but then disappointment - never lays 'eavy on a young 'eart, Willie; an' bein' - disappointed at not seein' a person you ain't really - acquainted with ain't as bad as some disappointments.” - </p> - <p> - “I guess I know,” Billy Geary replied bitterly. “If that - cablegram had only been for me! The only thing worth while I have done in - my twenty-six years of life was to accumulate the best friend a man ever - had—and lose him again because I was a fool and couldn't - understand things without a blueprint! Mother, if my old partner could, by - some miracle, manage to marry this Dolores girl, your arteries and your - aneurisms might bust and be damned, but the girl would be safe.” - </p> - <p> - “M'ybe,” Mother Jenks suggested hopefully, “yer - might fix it up for her w'en I'm gone. From all haccounts - 'e's no-end a gentleman.” - </p> - <p> - “He's a he-man,” Mr. Geary declared with conviction. He - sighed. “John Stuart Webster, wherever you are, please write or - cable,” he murmured. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER IX - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE ancient bromide - to the effect that man proposes but God disposes was never better - exemplified than in the case of John Stuart Webster, who, having - formulated certain daring plans for the morrow and surrendered himself to - grateful slumber in his stateroom aboard the Gulf States Limited, awoke on - that momentous morn to a distinct apprehension that all was not as it - should be with him. His mouth reminded him vaguely of a bird-and-animal - store, and riot and insurrection had broken out in the geometric centre of - his internal economy. - </p> - <p> - “I believe I'm going to be too ill to eat breakfast,” he - told himself. - </p> - <p> - By seven o'clock this apprehension had crystallized into certainty. - Webster had spent much of his life far from civilization, and as a result - had found it necessary to acquire more than the layman's knowledge - of rough-and-tumble surgery and the ordinary ills to which mortal is heir; - consequently he was sufficient of a jack-leg doctor to suspect he was - developing a splendid little case of ptomaine poisoning. He was aided in - reaching this conclusion by memories of the dinner his friends had given - him the night before, and at which he had partaken of a mallard duck, - killed out of season and therefore greatly to be prized. He recalled the - waiter's boast that the said duck had been hung for five days and - had reached that state of ripeness and tenderness so greatly desired by - those connoisseurs of food whose fool philosophy has been responsible for - more deaths than most doctors. . - </p> - <p> - “That brute of a duck was too far gone,” Mr. Webster - soliloquized bitterly. “And to think I'm killed off in the - mere shank of my celebration, just because I got so rich and stuck-up I - had to tie into some offal to show what a discerning judgment I had in - food, not to mention my distinctive appetite. I ought to be knocked on the - head with something, and I hope I may be if I ever accept any man's - judgment in opposition to my own, on the subject of ripe mallards. This is - what comes of breaking the game laws.” - </p> - <p> - He decided presently to go into executive session with the sleeping-car - conductor, who wired ahead for a doctor to meet the train at the next - station. And when the sawbones came and pawed Jack Webster over, he - gravely announced that if the patient had the slightest ambition to vote - at the next Presidential election, he should leave the train at St. Louis - and enter a hospital forthwith. To this heart-breaking program Webster - entered not the slightest objection, for when a man is seriously ill, he - is in much the same position as a politician—to wit: he is in the - hands of his friends. A sick man is always very sick—or thinks he - is, which amounts to the same thing; and as a rule he thinks of little - else save how sick he is. John S. Webster was, in this respect, neither - better nor worse than others of his sex, and in his great bodily and - mental depression his plans of the night before for getting acquainted - with Dolores Ruey occurred to him now as something extremely futile and - presumptuous. That young lady was now the subject least in his mind, for - she was at most naught but a bright day-dream; whereas his friend Billy - Geary was down in Sobrante with a rich wildcat mine waiting to be - developed, while the source of development lay on a bed of pain assailed - by secret apprehensions that all was over! - </p> - <p> - “Poor Billy-boy!” the sufferer murmured. “He'll - wait and wait, and his old Jack-partner won't come! Damn that duck!” - </p> - <p> - He had one little stab of pain higher up, and around his heart, as they - carried him off the train at St. Louis and stowed him in an ambulance - thoughtfully provided for by telegraph. In a nebulous way it occurred to - him that Fate had again crossed her fingers when paradise loomed on the - horizon; but recalling how very ill he was, he damned the duck. He told - himself that even if he should survive (which wasn't possible), - there could be no doubt in his mind, after all he had been through, that - the good Lord had marked him for a loveless, friendless, childless man; - that it was useless to struggle against the inevitable. He felt very, very - sorry for himself as the orderlies tucked him into bed and a nurse thrust - a thermometer under his tongue. - </p> - <p> - “A hundred and four and a quarter,” he heard her murmur to the - doctor a few minutes later. - </p> - <p> - “No bird ever flew so high that he didn't come down to roost,” - said Mr. Webster aloud. - </p> - <p> - The doctor and the nurse exchanged knowing glances. They nodded. The - patient was already delirious—a bad sign. - </p> - <p> - “Hey, Doc,” the stricken man called. They bent over him. - “Send—cablegram to Billy Geary—tell him—come home—before - that thousand—spent—money—my pocket.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I hear you,” the nurse said soothingly. “And the - address?” - </p> - <p> - “Calle de Concordia, Nineteen, Buenaventura, Sobrante.” - </p> - <p> - “Say it again,” the nurse urged him. “Spell it.” - Poor girl! She was a native of St. Louis. If Jack Webster had mentioned - Ossawatomie or Canandaigua, he would not have been called upon to go into - details and waste his strength. He gasped and wet his lips; she bent to - get the message: - </p> - <p> - “Damn that duck,” he whispered. “She had a green - tailor-made suit, and—believe me, girl, I'd rather sell my - Death Valley—borax-claims than—work them myself. Free-milling - gold—catch it on amalgamating plates—contact between andesite - and—Silurian limestone—Billy knows ducks. I taught him myself. - Come, Neddy. All together now, you old—pelican. A little close - harmony, boys: - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - “Let go the peak halyards, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Let go the peak halyards, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - My finger is caught in the block! - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - Leggo!” - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - “Sounds like a drinking man,” the doctor observed. “If - that's the case, this attack will go hard with him.” - </p> - <p> - It did. However, life had the habit of going hard with Webster so - frequently that fortunately he was trained to the minute, and after three - days of heroic battling the doctor awarded Jack the decision. Thereafter - they kept him in the hospital ten days longer, “feeding him up” - as the patient expressed it—at the end of which period Webster, some - fifteen pounds lighter and not quite so fast on his feet as formerly, - resumed his journey toward New Orleans. - </p> - <p> - In the meantime, however, several things had happened. To begin, Dolores - Ruey spent two days wondering what had become of her quondam knight of the - whiskers—at the end of which period she arrived in New Orleans with - the conviction strong upon her that while her hero might be as courageous - as a wounded lion when dealing with men, he was the possessor, when - dealing with women, of about two per cent, less courage than a cottontail - rabbit. She reproached herself for the wintry glance she had cast upon the - poor fellow that night at the Denver railway station; she decided that the - amazing Neddy Jerome was an interfering, impudent old fool and that she - had done an unmaidenly and brazen deed in replying to his ridiculous - telegram, even though she did so under an assumed name. Being a very human - young lady, however, she could not help wondering what had become of the - ubiquitous Mr. Webster, although the fact that he had mysteriously - disappeared from the train en route to New Orleans did not perturb her one - half so much as it had the disappearee! She had this advantage over that - unfortunate man. Whereas he did not know she was bound for Buenaventura, - she knew he was; hence, upon arrival in New Orleans she dismissed him from - her thoughts, serene in abiding faith that sooner or later her knight - would appear, like little <i>Bo-Peep's</i> lost sheep, dragging his - tail behind him, so to speak. The only regret she entertained arose from - her disappointment in the knowledge of his real character, and its wide - variance from the heroic attributes with which she had endowed him. She - had depended upon him to be a daring devil—and he had failed to toe - the scratch! - </p> - <p> - Dolores spent a week in New Orleans renewing schoolgirl friendships from - her convent days in the quaint old town. This stop-over, together with the - one in Denver, not having been taken into consideration by Mr. William - Geary when he and Mother Jenks commenced to speculate upon the approximate - date of her arrival in Buenaventura, resulted in the premature flight of - Mother Jenks to San Miguel de Padua, a fruitless visit on the part of - Billy aboard the <i>Cacique</i>, of the United Fruit Company's line, - followed by a hurry call to Mother Jenks to return to Buenaventura until - the arrival of the next steamer. - </p> - <p> - This time Billy's calculations proved correct, for Dolores did - arrive on that steamer. It is also worthy of remark here that shortly - after boarding the vessel and while <i>La Estrellita</i> was snoring down - the Mississippi, Miss Dolores did the missing Webster the signal honour of - scanning the purser's passenger list in a vain search for his name. - </p> - <p> - At Buenaventura the steamer anchored in the roadstead; the port doctor - came aboard, partook of his customary drink with the captain, received a - bundle of the latest American newspapers and magazines, nosed around, - asked a few perfunctory questions, and gave the vessel pratique. - Immediately she was surrounded by lighters manned by clamorous, half-naked - Sobranteans, each screaming in a horrible patois of English, Spanish, and - good American slang perfervid praises of the excellence of his service - compared with that of his neighbour. Dolores was particularly interested - in the antics of one fellow who had a sign tacked on a short signal mast - in his lighter. “I am a poor man with a large family, and my father - was an American,” the legend ran. “Kind-hearted Americans will - patronize me to the exclusion of all others.” - </p> - <p> - Dolores had made up her mind to heed this pathetic appeal, when she - observed a gasolene launch shoot up to the landing at the foot of the - companion-ladder and discharge a well-dressed, youthful white man. As he - came up the companion, the purser recognized him. - </p> - <p> - “Howdy, Bill,” he called. - </p> - <p> - “Hello, yourself,” Mr. William Geary replied, and Dolores knew - him for an American. “Do you happen to have as a passenger this trip - a large, interesting person, by name John Stuart Webster?” added - Billy Geary. - </p> - <p> - “I don't know, Billy. I'll look over the passenger-list.” - </p> - <p> - “No hope,” Billy replied mournfully. “If Jack Webster - was aboard he'd have got acquainted with you. However, take a - look-see to make certain.” - </p> - <p> - “Friend of yours?” the purser queried. - </p> - <p> - “You bet. Likewise guide and philosopher. He should have been here - on the last steamer—cabled me he was coming, and I haven't - heard a word from him since. I'm a little worried.” - </p> - <p> - “I'll get the list,” the purser announced, and together - they moved off toward his office. Dolores followed, drawn by the mention - of that magic name Webster, and paused in front of the purser's - office to lean over the rail, ostensibly to watch the <i>cargadores</i> in - their lighters clustering around the great ship, but in reality to learn - more of the mysterious Webster. - </p> - <p> - “Blast the luck,” Billy Geary growled, “the old sinner - isn't here. Gosh, that's worse than having a note called on a - fellow. By the way, do you happen to have a Miss Dolores Ruey aboard?” - </p> - <p> - Dolores pricked up her little ears. What possible interest could this - stranger have in her goings or comings? - </p> - <p> - “You picked a winner this time, Bill,” she heard the purser - say. “Stateroom Sixteen, boat-deck, starboard side. You'll - probably find her there, packing to go ashore.” - </p> - <p> - “Thanks,” Billy replied and stepped out of the purser's - office. Dolores turned and faced him. - </p> - <p> - “I am Miss Ruey,” she announced. “I heard you asking for - me.” Her eyes carried the query she had not put into words: “Who - are you, and what do you want?” Billy saw and understood, and on the - instant a wave of desolation surged over him. - </p> - <p> - So this was the vision he had volunteered to meet aboard <i>La Estrellita</i>, - and by specious lie and hypo-critic mien, turn her back from the portals - of Buenaventura to that dear old United States, which, Billy suddenly - recalled with poignant pain, is a sizable country in which a young lady - may very readily be lost forever. At the moment it occurred to Mr. Geary - that the apotheosis of rapture would be a midnight stroll in the moonlight - along the Malecon, with the little waves from the Caribbean lapping and - gurgling against the beach, while afar, in some bosky retreat, a harp with - a flute obbligato sobbed out “'Nita, Juanita” or some - equally heart-throb ballad. Yes, that would be quite a joyous journey—with - Dolores Ruey. - </p> - <p> - Billy, with the quick eye of youth, noted that Dolores was perfectly - wonderful in a white flannel skirt and jacket, white buck boots, white - panama hat with a gorgeous puggaree, a mannish little linen collar, and a - red four-in-hand tie. From under that white hat peeped a profusion of - crinkly brown hair with a slightly reddish tinge to it; her eyes were big - and brown and wide apart, with golden flecks in them; their glance met - Billy's hungry gaze simply, directly, and with 'a curiosity - there was no attempt to hide. Her complexion was that peculiar shade of - olive, with a warm, healthy, underlying tinge that nobody could possibly - hope to describe, but which fits in so beautifully with brown eyes of a - certain shade. Her nose was patrician; her beautiful short upper lip - revealed the tips of two perfect, milk-white front teeth: she was, Billy - Geary told himself, a goddess before whom all low, worthless, ornery - fellows like himself should grovel and die happy, if perchance she might - be so minded as to walk on their faces! He was aroused from his critical - inventory when the houri spoke again: - </p> - <p> - “You haven't answered my question, sir!” - </p> - <p> - “No,” said Billy, “I didn't. Stupid of me, too. I - was staring, instead—because, you see, it isn't often we poor - expatriated devils down here climb out of Hades long enough to view the - angels! However, come to think of it, you didn't ask me any - question. You looked it. My name is Geary—William H. Geary, by - profession a mining engineer and by nature an ignoramus, and I have called - to deliver some disappointing news regarding Henrietta Wilkins.” - </p> - <p> - “Is she——” - </p> - <p> - “She is very much alive and in excellent health—or rather was, - the last time it was my pleasure and privilege to call on the dear lady. - But she isn't in Buenaventura now.” Mentally Billy asked God - to forgive him his black-hearted treachery to this winsome girl. He - loathed the task he had planned and foisted upon himself, and nothing but - the memory of Mother Jenks's manifold kindnesses to him in a day, - thanks to Jack Webster, now happily behind him, could have induced him to - go through to the finish. Mentally clinging to the memory of his - obligations to Mother Jenks, Billy ruthlessly smothered his finer - instincts and with breaking heart prepared to do or die. - </p> - <p> - “Why, where is she?” Dolores queried, and Billy could have - wept at the fright in those lovely brown eyes. - </p> - <p> - He waved his hand airily. “<i>Quien sabe?</i>” he said. - “She left three weeks ago for New Orleans to visit you. I dare say - you passed each other on the road—here, here, Miss Ruey, don't - cry. By golly, this is a tough one, I know, but be brave and we'll - save something out of the wreck yet.” - </p> - <p> - He took a recess of three minutes, while Dolores dabbed her eyes and went - through sundry other motions of being brave. Then he proceeded with his - nefarious recital. - </p> - <p> - “When your cablegram arrived, Miss Ruey, naturally Mrs. Wilkins was - not here to receive it, and as I was the only person who had her address, - the cable-agent referred it to me. Under the circumstances, not knowing - where I could reach you with a cable informing you that Mrs. Wilkins was - headed for California to see you, I had no other alternative but let - matters take their course. I decided you might arrive on <i>La Estrellita</i>, - so I called to welcome you to our thriving little city, and, as a friend - of about two minutes' standing, to warn you away from it.” - </p> - <p> - Billy's mien, as he voiced this warning, was so singularly - mysterious that Dolores's curiosity was aroused instantly and rose - superior to her grief. “Why, what's the matter?” she - demanded. - </p> - <p> - Billy looked around, as if fearful of being overheard. He lowered his - voice. “We're going to have one grand little first-class - revolution,” he replied. “It's due to bust almost any - night now, and when it does, the streets of San Buenaventura will run red - with blood. I shudder to think of the fate that might befall you, alone - and unprotected in the city, in such event.” - </p> - <p> - Dolores blanched. “Oh, dearie me,” she quavered. “Do - they still have revolutions here? You know, Mr. Geary, my poor father was - killed in one.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, and the same old political gang that shot him is still on - deck,” Billy warned her. “It would be highly dangerous for a - Ruey, man or woman, to show his or her nose around Buenaventura about now. - Besides, Miss Ruey, that isn't the worst,” he continued, for a - whole-hearted lad was Billy, who never did anything by halves. While he - was opposed to lies and liars on broad, general principles, nevertheless - whenever the exigencies of circumstance compelled him to backslide, his - Hibernian impulsiveness bade him spin a yarn worth while. “The city - is reeking with cholera,” he declared. - </p> - <p> - “Cholera!” Dolores's big brown eyes grew Digger with - wonder and concern. “Are there any other fatal diseases prevalent, - Mr. Geary?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, we're not advertising it, Miss Ruey, but if I had an - enemy to whom I wanted to slip a plain or fancy case of bubonic plague, I'd - invite him to visit me at Buenaventura.” - </p> - <p> - “How strange the port authorities didn't warn us at New - Orleans!” Dolores suggested. - </p> - <p> - “Tish! Tush! Fiddlesticks and then some. The fruit company censors - everything, Miss Ruey, and the news doesn't get out. The port - authorities here would never admit the truth of such reports, because it - would be bad for business——” - </p> - <p> - “But the port doctor just said the passengers could go ashore.” - </p> - <p> - “What's a human life to a doctor? Besides, he's on the - slush-fund pay-roll and does whatever the higher-ups tell him. You be - guided by what I tell you, Miss Ruey, and do not set foot on Sobrantean - soil. Even if you had a guarantee that you could escape alive, there isn't - a hotel in the city you could afford to sleep in; Miss Wilkins's - house is closed up, and Miss Wilkins's servants dismissed, and—er—well, - if you stay aboard <i>La Estrellita</i>, you'll have your nice clean - stateroom, your well-cooked meals, your bath, and the attentions of the - stewardess. The steamer will be loaded in two days; then you go back to - New Orleans, and by the time you arrive there I'll have been in - communication by cable with Mother Jenks—I mean——” - </p> - <p> - “Mother who?” Dolores demanded. - </p> - <p> - “A mere slip of the tongue, Miss Ruey. I was thinking of my - landlady. I meant Mrs. Wilkins——” - </p> - <p> - “You mean Miss Wilkins,” Dolores corrected him smilingly. - </p> - <p> - “So I do. Of course, Miss Wilkins. Well, I'll cable her you're - on your way back, and if you'll leave me your New Orleans address, I'll - have her get in touch with you, and then you can have your nice little - visit far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife and the - death-dealing sting of the yellow-fever mosquito.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm so awfully obliged to you, Mr. Geary. You're so - kind, I'm sure I'd be a most ungrateful girl not to be guided - by you accordingly. You wouldn't risk any friend of yours in this - terrible place, would you, Mr. Geary?” - </p> - <p> - “Indeed, I would not. By permitting anybody I thought anything of to - come to this city, I should feel guilty of murder.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm sure you would, Mr. Geary. Nevertheless, there is one - point that is not quite clear in my mind, and I wish you'd explain——” - </p> - <p> - “Command me, Miss Ruey.” - </p> - <p> - “If this is such a frightful place, why are you so anxious, if I may - employ such language, to hornsgoggle your dearest friend, Mr. John S. - Webster, into coming down here? Do you want to kill him and get his money—or - what?” - </p> - <p> - Billy's face flamed at thought of the embarrassing trap his glib - tongue had led him into. He cursed himself for a star-spangled jackass, - and while he was engaged in this interesting pastime Dolores spoke again. - </p> - <p> - “And by the way, which is it? Miss Wilkins or Mrs.? You've - called her both, and when I reminded you she was a Miss, you agreed with - me, whereas she is nothing of the sort. She's a Mrs. Then you - blurted out something about a Mother Jenks, and finally, Mr. Geary, it - occurs to me that for a complete stranger you are unduly interested in my - welfare. I'm not such a goose as to assimilate your weird tales of - death from disease. I might have accepted the revolution, because I know - it's the national outdoor sport down here, and I might have accepted - the cholera, because it wouldn't surprise me; but when you so - artlessly throw in bubonic plague and yellow fever for good measure, Mr. - Geary, you tax my credulity. It occurs to me that if your friend John S. - Webster can risk Buenaventura, I can also.” - </p> - <p> - “You—you know that old tarantula?” Billy gasped. “Why - I—I came out to warn him off the grass, too.” - </p> - <p> - Dolores walked a step closer to Billy and eyed him disapprovingly. “I'm - so sorry I can't believe that statement,” she replied. “With - the exception of your tendency toward fiction, you're rather a - presentable young man, too. It's really too bad, but it happens that - I was standing by the companion-ladder when you came aboard and spoke to - the purser; when you asked him if Mr. Webster was aboard, your face was - alight with eagerness and anticipation, but when you had reason to believe - he was not aboard, you looked so terribly disappointed I felt sorry for - you.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, of course I would have been delighted to meet the old boy,” - Billy began, but she interrupted him. - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Geary, you're about as reliable as a Los Angeles - thermometer—and if you've ever lived in a town the main asset - of which is climate, you know just how reliable you are. Now, let us - understand each other, Mr. Geary: If you think I'm the kind of - simple, trusting little country maid who would come within half a mile of - the land of her birth and then run back home because somebody said 'Boo!' - you are not nearly so intelligent as you look. I'm going ashore, if - it's the last act of my life, and when I get there I'm going - to interview the cable agent; then I'm going to call at the - steamship office and scan the passenger list of the last three north-bound - steamers, and if I do not find Henrietta Wilkins's name on one of - those passenger lists I'm going up to Calle de Concordia Number - Nineteen——” - </p> - <p> - “I surrender unconditionally,” groaned Billy. “I'm - a liar from beginning to end. I overlooked my hand. I forgot that while - you were born in this country and bred from several generations of - Sobranteans, you were raised in the U. S. A. I beg of you to believe me, - however, when I tell you that I only told you those whoppers because I was - in honour bound to tell them. Personally, I don't want you to go - away—at least, not until I'm ready to go away, too! Miss Ruey, - my nose is in the dust. On my lying head there is a ton of ashes and a - thousand running yards of sackcloth. There is a fever in my brain and a - misery in my heart——” - </p> - <p> - “And contrition in your face,” she interrupted him laughingly. - “You're forgiven, Mr. Geary—on one condition.” - </p> - <p> - “Name it,” he answered. - </p> - <p> - “Tell me everything from beginning to end.” - </p> - <p> - So Billy told her, for there are some women in this world to whom a man - with a poker face, the imagination of a Verne, and the histrionic art of - an Irving cannot—nay, dare not—tell a lie. “I would much - rather have been visited with a plague of boils, like our old friend, the - late Job, than have to tell you this, Miss Ruey,” Bill concluded his - recital. “Man proposes, but God disposes, and you're here and - bound to learn the truth sooner or later. Mother isn't a lady and - she knows it, but take it from me, Miss Ruey, she's a grand old - piece of work. She's a scout—a ring-tailed sport—a - regular individual and game as a gander.” - </p> - <p> - “In other words,” Dolores replied smilingly, “she has a - heart of gold.” - </p> - <p> - “Twenty-four carat, all wool and a yard wide,” Billy declared, - mixed-metaphorically. - </p> - <p> - “And I mustn't call at El Buen Amigo, Mr. Geary?” - </p> - <p> - “Perish the thought! Mother must call on you. El Buen Amigo is what - you might term a hotel for tropical tramps of the masculine sex. Nearly - all of Mother's guests have a past, you know. They're the - submerged white tenth of Sobrante.” - </p> - <p> - “Then my benefactor must call to see me here?” Billy nodded. - “When will you bring her here?” - </p> - <p> - Billy reflected that Mother Jenks had been up rather late the night before - and that trade in the <i>cantina</i> of El Buen Amigo had been unusually - brisk; so since he desired to exhibit the old lady at her best, he - concluded it might be well to spar for wind. - </p> - <p> - “To-morrow at ten,” he declared. Dolores inclined her head. - Something told her she had better leave all future details to the amiable - William. - </p> - <p> - “I take it you are a guest at El Buen Amigo, Mr. Geary,” she - continued. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, yes. I've been a guest for about two weeks now; before - that I was an encumbrance. Now I'm paying my way—thanks to an - old side-kicker of mine, Jack Webster.” - </p> - <p> - “But surely you're not a tropical tramp, Mr. Geary?” - </p> - <p> - “I was, but Jack Webster reformed me,” Billy answered - quizzically. “You know—power of wealth and all that.” - </p> - <p> - “I remember you inquired for your friend Mr. Webster when you came - aboard the steamer.” - </p> - <p> - “I remember it, too,” Billy countered ruefully. “I can't - imagine what's become of him. I suppose I'll have a cable from - him any day, though, telling me he'll be along on the next steamer. - Miss Ruey, did you ever go to meet the only human being in the world and - discover that for some mysterious reason he had failed to keep the - appointment? If you ever have, you'll know just how cheerful I felt - when I didn't find Jack's name on the passenger list. Miss - Ruey, you'll have to meet old John Stuart the minute he lights in - Buenaventura. He's some boy.” - </p> - <p> - “<i>Old</i> John Stuart?” she queried. “How old?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, thirty-nine or forty on actual count, but one of the kind that - will live to be a thousand and then have to be killed with an axe. He's - coming to Sobrante to help me put over a mining deal.” - </p> - <p> - “How interesting, Mr. Geary! No wonder you were disappointed.” - </p> - <p> - The last sentence was a shaft deliberately launched; to Dolores's - delight it made a keyhole in Billy Geary's heart. - </p> - <p> - “Don't get me wrong, Miss Ruey,” he hastened to assure - her. “I have a good mine, but I'd trade it for a hand-shake - from Jack! The good Lord only published one edition of Jack, and limited - the edition to one volume; then the plates were melted for the junk we - call the human race.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, do tell me all about him,” Dolores pleaded. Billy, always - interested in his favourite topic, beamed with boyish pleasure. “No,” - he said, “I'll not tell you about him, Miss Ruey. I'll - just let him speak for himself. We used to be as close to each other as - peas in a pod, back in Colorado, and then I made a monkey of myself and - shook old Jack without even saying good-bye. Miss Ruey, my action didn't - even dent his friendship for me. Two weeks ago, when I was sick and - penniless and despairing, the possessor of a concession on a fortune but - without a <i>centavo</i> in my pockets to buy a banana, when I was a - veritable beach-comber and existing on the charity of Mother Jenks, I - managed finally to communicate with old Jack and told him where I was and - what I had. There's his answer, Miss Ruey, and I'm not ashamed - to say that when I got it I cried like a kid.” And Billy handed her - John Stuart Webster's remarkable cablegram, the receipt of which - had, for Billy Geary, transformed night into day, purgatory into paradise. - Dolores read it. - </p> - <p> - “No wonder you love him,” she declared, and added artlessly: - “His wife must simply adore him.” - </p> - <p> - “'He has no wife to bother his fife, so he paddles his own - canoe,'” Billy recited. “I don't believe the old - sour-dough has ever been in love with anything more charming than the - goddess of fortune. He's womanproof.” - </p> - <p> - “About Mrs. Jenks,” Dolores continued, abruptly changing the - subject. “How nice to reflect that after she had trusted you and - believed in you when you were penniless, you were enabled to justify her - faith.” - </p> - <p> - “You bet!” Billy declared. “I feel that I can never - possibly hope to catch even with the old Samaritan, although I did try to - show her how much I appreciated her.” - </p> - <p> - “I dare say you went right out and bought her an impossible hat,” - Dolores challenged roguishly. - </p> - <p> - “No, I didn't—for a very sufficient reason. Down here - the ladies do not wear hats. But I'll tell you what I did buy her, - Miss Ruey—and oh, by George. I'm glad now I did it. She'll - wear them to-morrow when I bring her to see you. I bought her a new black - silk dress and an old lace collar, and a gold breast-pin and a - tortoise-shell hair comb and hired an open carriage and took her for an - evening ride on the Malecon to listen to the band concert.” - </p> - <p> - “Did she like that?” - </p> - <p> - “She ate it up,” Billy declared with conviction. “I - think it was her first adventure in democracy.” Billy's pulse - was still far from normal when he reached El Buen Amigo, for he was - infused with a strange, new-found warmth that burned like malarial fever - but wasn't. He wasted no preliminaries on Mother Jenks, but bluntly - acquainted her with the facts in the case. - </p> - <p> - Mother Jenks eyed him a moment wildly. “Gord's truth!” - she gasped; she reached for her favourite elixir, but Billy got the bottle - first. - </p> - <p> - “Nothing doing,” he warned this strange publican. “Mother, - you're funking it—and what would your sainted 'Enery say - to that? Do you want that angel to kiss you and get a whiff of this - brandy?” Mother Jenks's eyes actually popped. “Gor', - Willie,” she gasped, “'aven't Hi told yer she's - a lydy! Me kiss the lamb! Hi trusts, Mr. Geary, as ow I knows my plyce an' - can keep it.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I know,” Billy soothed the frightened old woman, “but - the trouble is Miss Dolores doesn't know hers—and something - tells me if she does, she'll forget it. She'll take you in her - arms and kiss you, sure as death and taxes.” - </p> - <p> - And she did! “My lamb, my lamb,” sobbed Mother Jenks the next - morning, and rested her old cheek, with its rum-begotten hue, close to the - rose-tinted ivory cheek of her ward. “Me—wot I am—an' - to think———” - </p> - <p> - “You're a sweet old dear,” Dolores whispered, patting - the gray head; “and I'm going to call you Mother.” - </p> - <p> - “Mr. William H. Geary,” the girl remarked that night, “I - know now why your friend Mr. Webster sent that cablegram. I think you're - a scout, too.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0004" id="linkimage-0004"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0125.jpg" alt="0125 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0125.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - For reasons best known to himself Mr. Geary blushed furiously. “I—I'd - better go and break the news to Mother,” he suggested inanely. She - held out her hand; and Billy, having been long enough in Sobrante to have - acquired the habit, bent his malarial person over that hand and kissed it. - As he went out it occurred to him that had the lobby of the Hotel Mateo - been paved with eggs, he must have floated over them like a Wraith, so - light did he feel within. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER X - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>EBSTER reached New - Orleans at the end of the first leg of his journey, to discover that in - the matter of sailings he was not fortunate. He was one day late to board - the <i>Atlanta</i>—a banana boat of the Consolidated Fruit Company's - line plying regularly between New Orleans and that company's depots - at Limon and San Buenaventura—which necessitated a wait of three - days for the steamer <i>La Estrellita</i> of the Caribbean Mail Line, - running to Caracas and way ports. - </p> - <p> - This delay annoyed him, for he was the kind of man who, once he has made - up his mind to embark upon a venture, is impatient to be up and doing. - Accordingly, he decided to visit the ticket office of the Caribbean Mail - Line immediately and avoid the rush in case the travel should be heavy—in - which event a delay of an hour might be fatal—for should he be - informed that the space on La Estrellita was entirely sold out, the - knowledge would, he knew, set his reason tottering on its throne. - </p> - <p> - The steamship office was in Canal Street. Webster arrived there during the - luncheon hour, due to which fact he found but one clerk on duty at the - ticket counter when he entered. This clerk was waiting on two well-dressed - and palpably low-bred sons of the tropics, to whom he had just displayed a - passenger list which the two were scanning critically. Their interest in - it was so obvious that unconsciously Webster peeped over their shoulders - (no difficult task for one of his stature) and discovered it to be the - passenger list of the steamer La Estrellita. They were conversing together - in low tones and Webster, who had spent many years of his life following - his profession in Mexico, recognized their speech as the bastard Spanish - of the peon. - </p> - <p> - The clerk glanced up, caught Webster's eye and nodded to indicate - that he would attend him directly. - </p> - <p> - “No hurry, old timer,” Webster told him, with the bluff, - free-and-easy democracy of the man of broad, unkenned horizons. “Just - save a place on that passenger list for my John Hancock when our friends - here have finished with it.” - </p> - <p> - He sat down in the long wall seat and waited until the pair, having - completed their scrutiny of the list, turned to pass out. He glanced at - them casually. - </p> - <p> - Theirs were faces ordinary enough south of the Rio Grande but not likely - to pass unnoticed in a northern crowd. One was a tall thin man whose - bloodshot eyes were inclined to “pop” a little—infallible - evidence in the Latin-American that he is drinking more hard liquor than - is good for him. He was smooth-shaven, of pronounced Indian type, and wore - considerable expensive jewellery. - </p> - <p> - His companion was plainly of the same racial stock, although Webster - suspected him of a slight admixture of negro blood. He was short, stocky, - and aggressive looking; like his companion, bejewelled and possessed of a - thin, carefully cultivated mous, tache that seemed to consist of about - nineteen hairs on one side and twenty on the other. Evidently once upon a - time, as the story books have it, he had been shot. Webster suspected a - Mauser bullet, fired at long range. It had entered his right cheek, just - below the malar, ranged downward through his mouth and out through a fold - of flabby flesh under his left jowl. It must have been a frightful wound, - but it had healed well except at the point of entrance, where it had a - tendency to pucker considerably, thus drawing the man's eyelid down - on his cheek and giving to that visual organ something of the appearance - of a bulldog's. - </p> - <p> - Both men observed Webster's swift but intense appraisal of them, and - he of the puckered eye—perhaps because he was the cynosure of that - scrutiny and morbidly sensitive of his facial disfigurement—replied - with a cool, sullen stare that was almost belligerent. - </p> - <p> - Webster gazed after them whimsically as he approached the counter. - </p> - <p> - “I'd hate to wake up some night and find that <i>hombre</i> - with the puckered eye leaning over me. To what branch of the genus Greaser - do those two horse-thieves belong?” he queried. - </p> - <p> - “Central America, I take it,” the clerk answered. “They - appear interested in the names of passengers bound for Caribbean ports. - Looking for a friend, I suppose.” - </p> - <p> - “Hardly. I speak their kind of Spanish and a peon doesn't - refer to his friends in the free-and-easy language these fellows employed. - By the way,” he continued, suddenly apprehensive, “do you get - much of that paraqueet travel on your line?” - </p> - <p> - “About 80 per cent, of it is off colour, sir.” Webster - pondered the 80-per-cent, probability of being berthed in the same - stateroom with one of these people and the prospect was as revolting to - him as would be an uninvited negro guest at the dining table of a southern - family. He had all a Westerner's hatred for the breed. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I want a ticket to San Buenaventura,” he informed the - clerk, “but I don't relish the idea of a Greaser in the same - stateroom with Me. I wonder if you couldn't manage to fix me up with - a stateroom all to myself, or at least arrange it so that in the event of - company I'll draw a white man. I can stand a slovenly white man - where a clean peon would be unbearable, although—peon or Caballero—these - people are apt to be tarred with the same stick. I don't care for - any of them in mine.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm sorry, sir, but I cannot guarantee you absolute privacy - nor any kind of white man. It's pretty mixed travel to all Central - American ports.” - </p> - <p> - “How many berths in your first-class staterooms?” - </p> - <p> - “Two.” - </p> - <p> - Webster smiled brightly. He had found a way out of the difficulty. “I'll - buy 'em both, son,” he announced. - </p> - <p> - “I cannot sell you an entire stateroom, sir. It's against the - orders of the company to sell two berths to one man. The travel is pretty - brisk and it's hardly fair to the public, you know.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, suppose I buy one ticket for myself and the other for—well, - for my valet, let us say. Of course,” he added brightly, “I - haven't engaged the valet yet and even should I do so I wouldn't - be at all surprised if the rascal missed the boat!” - </p> - <p> - The clerk glanced at him with a slow smile, and pondered. “Well,” - he said presently, “it's a poor rule that hasn't its - exception, and when it comes to killing cats, strangulation with a - butter-ball isn't the only method. If you care to buy a ticket for - your valet, I'm sure I shouldn't worry whether or not he - catches the boat. If my records show that the space is sold of two men and - the purser collects two tickets, I think you'll be pretty safe from - intrusion.” - </p> - <p> - “To the harassed traveller,” said Mr. Webster, “a - meeting with a gentleman of your penetration is as refreshing as a canteen - of cool water in the desert. Shoot!” and he produced a handful of - gold. - </p> - <p> - “I will—provided I have one empty cabin,” and the clerk - turned from the counter to consult his record of berths already sold and - others reserved but not paid for. Presently he faced Webster at the - counter. - </p> - <p> - “The outlook is very blue,” he announced. “Every name on - the passenger list has a preponderance of vowels in it. However, I have - one berth in No. 34 reserved by a gentleman who was to call for it by two - o'clock to-day.” He looked at his watch. “It is now a - quarter of one. If the reservation isn't claimed promptly at two o'clock - I shall cancel it and reserve for you both berths in that room. If you - will be good enough to leave me your name and address I will telephone you - after that hour. In the meantime, you may make reservation of the other - berth in the same stateroom. I feel very confident that the reservation in - No. 34 will not be called for, Mr.—er——” - </p> - <p> - “Webster—John S. Webster. You are very kind, indeed. I'm - at the St. Charles.” - </p> - <p> - “Be there at a quarter after two, Mr. Webster, and you will hear - from me promptly on the minute,” the clerk assured him; whereupon - Webster paid for one berth and departed for his hotel with a feeling that - the clerk's report would be favourable. - </p> - <p> - True to his promise, at precisely a quarter after two, the ticket clerk - telephoned Webster at his hotel that the berth in No. 34 had been - cancelled and the entire stateroom was now at his disposal. - </p> - <p> - “If you will be good enough to give me the name of your valet,” - he concluded, “it will not be necessary for you to come down for - your tickets, Mr. Webster. I will fill in both names on my passenger - manifest and send the tickets to your hotel by messenger immediately. You - can then sign the tickets—I have already signed them as witness—and - pay the messenger.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I haven't engaged that valet as yet,” Webster - began, but the other interrupted cheerfully: “What's the odds? - He's going to miss the boat, anyhow. All I require is a name.” - </p> - <p> - “That ought to be a simple request to comply with. Let me see! If I - had a valet I think I should want him to be called Andrew or Martin.” - </p> - <p> - “I read a book once, Mr. Webster, and the valet in that book was - called Andrew Bowers.” - </p> - <p> - “Bowers is a fine old English name. Let us seek no further. Andrew - Bowers it is.” - </p> - <p> - “Thank you. All you have to do then is to remember to sign the name, - Andrew Bowers, to one ticket. Don't forget your valet's name - now, and ball everything up,” and the clerk hung up, laughing. - </p> - <p> - Half an hour later a boy from the steamship office arrived with the - tickets, collected for them, and departed, leaving John Stuart Webster - singularly pleased with himself and at peace with the entire world. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XI - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span> “LARGE” - dinner at Antoine's that night (Webster had heard of Antoine's - dinners, both large and small and was resolved not to leave New Orleans - until he had visited the famous restaurant) and a stroll through the - picturesque old French quarter and along the levee next day, helped to - render his enforced stay in New Orleans delightful, interesting, and - instructive. Webster was one of those distinctful individual types to whom - a chamber of horrors would be productive of more enjoyment than the usual - round of “points of interest.” Experience had demonstrated to - him that such points usually are uninteresting and wearing on the - imagination, for the reason that the tourist trappers and proprietors of - automobile 'buses, who map out the tours have no imagination - themselves. Consequently, Webster preferred to prowl around quietly on - little tours of discovery, personally conducted by himself. The search for - obscure restaurants of unquestioned merit was with him almost a mania, and - since in quaint New Orleans the food and drink specialist finds his - highest heaven, no cloud marked the serenity of his delightful - peregrinations. - </p> - <p> - The next day would be Sunday, and Webster planned an early morning visit - to the old French market, around which still lingers much of the - picturesque charm and colourful romance of a day that is done—that - echo of yesterday, as it were, which has left upon New Orleans an - individuality as distinct as that which the olden, golden, godless days - have left upon San Francisco. - </p> - <p> - He rose before six o'clock, therefore; found a taxi, with the driver - sound asleep inside, at the curb in front of the hotel; gave the latter - his instructions, and climbed in. - </p> - <p> - It being Sunday morning New Orleans slept late. Save for the few early - morning worshippers hurrying to mass—mostly servants in a hurry to - return to their kitchens and cook breakfast—the streets were - deserted. The languorous air of dawn was redolent of the perfume of - orange, rose, and sweet olive; from the four comers of the old town the - mellow chimes of the Catholic church bells pealed their sweet, insistent - call to the faithful; an atmosphere of subtle peace and sanctity pervaded - the silent streets and awoke in John Stuart Webster's heart a vague - nostalgia. - </p> - <p> - Perhaps it was because so much of his life had been spent in lonely - mountain or desert camps, or perhaps it was because this taxi ride through - the pleasant southern dawn was so typical of the swift passing of the - youth which had gone from him before he had had an opportunity to taste, - even moderately, of its joys and allurements. He sighed—a little - regretful sigh. - </p> - <p> - “That's you, Johnny Webster,” he told himself, “breezing - along through life like a tin-canned dog; f passing the sweet and the - beautiful and battling with the harsh and unlovely; here to-day and gone - to-morrow, a poor harried devil with your trunk on your back, a slave to - the call of gold; restless, in a great hurry to get there and an equal - hurry to leave for the new diggings, and all the time Life passes you by - and you don't grab so much as a tail feather! On such a morn as this - Eve entered the Garden of Eden, while I, consummate idiot, shut myself up - in a taxi to watch a bill of expense run up on the clock, while sniffing - myrrh and incense through this confounded window. I'll get out and - walk!” - </p> - <p> - He was opposite Jackson Square and the cloying sweetness of palmetto, - palm, and fig burdened the air. Above the rumble of the taxi he could hear - the distant babel of voices in the French market across the square, so he - halted the taxicab, alighted, and handed the driver a bill. - </p> - <p> - “I want to explore this square,” he said. He had recognized it - by the heroic statue of General Jackson peeping through the trees. “I'll - walk through the square Up the market, and you may proceed to the market - and meet me there. Later we will return to the hotel.” - </p> - <p> - The chauffeur nodded, and Webster, every fibre of his alert, healthy body - once more tingling with the sheer joy of living, entered the square, found - a path that wound its way through the shrubbery, and came out at length in - the main pathway, close to the Jackson memorial statue. - </p> - <p> - A Creole girl—starry-eyed, beautiful, rich with the glorious - colouring of her race—passed him bound for the cathedral across the - square, as Webster thought, for she carried a large prayer book on her - arm. To Webster she seemed to fit perfectly into her surroundings, to lend - to them the last, final touch of beauty, the apotheosis of peace, and - again the nostalgic fever submerged the quiet joy with which he had - approached his journey through the square. His glance followed the girl - down the walk. - </p> - <p> - Presently she halted. A young man rose from a bench where evidently he had - been waiting for her, and bowed low, his hat clasped to his breast, as - only a Frenchman or a Spanish grandee can bow. Webster saw the Creole girl - turn to him with a little gesture of pleasure. She extended her hand and - the young man kissed it with old-fashioned courtesy. - </p> - <p> - John Stuart Webster knew now what was missing in his scheme of things, as - with reverent and wistful eyes he watched their meeting. - </p> - <p> - “Forty years old,” he thought, “and I haven't - spoken to a dozen women that caused me a second thought, or who weren't - postmistresses or biscuit shooters! Forty years old and I've never - been in love! Spring time down that little path and Indian summer in my - old fool heart. Why, I ought to be arrested for failure to live!” - </p> - <p> - The lovers were walking slowly, arm in arm, back along the path by which - the girl had come, so with a courtesy and gentleness that were innate in - him, Webster stepped out of sight behind the statue of Old Hickory; for he - did not desire, by his mere presence, to intrude a discordant note in the - perfect harmony of those two human hearts. He knew they desired that - sylvan path to themselves; that evidently they had sought their early - morning tryst in the knowledge that the square was likely to be deserted - at this hour. Therefore, to provoke selfconsciousness in them now savoured - to John Stuart Webster of a high crime and misdemeanour, for which reason - he was careful to keep General Jackson between himself and the lovers - until they had gone by. - </p> - <p> - The young man was speaking as they passed; his voice was rich, pleasant, - vibrant with the earnestness of what he had to say: with a pretty little - silver-mounted walking stick he slashed at spears of grass alongside the - path; the girl was crying a little. Neither of them had seen him, so he - entered a path that led from them at right angles. - </p> - <p> - He had proceeded but a few feet along this trail when, through a break in - the shrubbery ahead of him, he saw two men. They were crossing Webster's - path and following a course paralleling that of the lovers in the broad - main walk. Brief as was his glimpse of them, however, Webster instantly - recognized the two Central Americans he had seen in the steamship ticket - office two days previous. - </p> - <p> - They were not walking as walk two men abroad at this hour for a - constitutional. Neither did they walk as walk men churchward bound. A - slight, skulking air marked their progress, and caused Webster to wonder - idly what they were stalking. - </p> - <p> - He turned into the path down which the two men had passed, not with the - slightest idea of shadowing them, but because his destination lay in that - direction. The Central Americans were approximately fifty yards in advance - of him as he turned in their wake, and at sight of them his suspicion that - they were stalking something was quickened into belief. - </p> - <p> - Both men had forsaken the gravelled path and were walking on the soft - velvet of blue grass lawn that fringed it! - </p> - <p> - “Perhaps I'd better deaden my hoof beats also,” John - Stuart Webster soliloquized, and followed suit immediately. - </p> - <p> - He had scarcely done so when the men ahead of him paused abruptly. Webster - did likewise, and responding—subconsciously, perhaps, to the - remembrance of the menace in the glance of the man with the puckered eye—he - stepped out of sight behind a broad oak tree. Through the trees and - shrubbery he could still see the lovers, who had halted and evidently were - about to part. - </p> - <p> - Webster saw the young man glance warily about; then, apparently satisfied - there was none to spy upon them, he drew the girl gently toward him. She - clung to him for nearly a minute, sobbing; then he raised her face - tenderly, kissed her, pressed her from him, and walked swiftly away - without looking back. - </p> - <p> - It was a sweet and rather touching little tableau; to John Stuart Webster, - imaginative and possessed of a romantic streak in his nature, it was more - than a tableau. It was a moving picture! - </p> - <p> - “I suppose her old man objects to the young fellow,” he - muttered to himself sympathetically, “and he can't come near - the house. They've met here for the fond farewell, and now the young - fellow's going out West to make his fortune, so he can come back and - claim the girl. Huh! If he wants her, why the devil doesn't he take - her? I'd tell her old man I'd picked on him for my - father-in-law, and then if he didn't like me I'd let the old - fellow rave; and see how much good it would do him. But the French are - different; they always let the old folks step in and rock the boat——- - Hello! By Judas priest! Now I know what those two paraqueets are up to. - One of them is the father of that girl. They've been spying on the - lovers, and now they're going to corner the young fellow and shingle - him for his nerve.” - </p> - <p> - The girl had stood for a moment, gazing after her companion, before she - turned with her handkerchief to her eyes, and continued on her way to the - cathedral. Webster had observed that the two men ahead of him paid no - attention to her, but pressed eagerly forward after the man. - </p> - <p> - Webster could look across about thirty yards of low shrubbery at the girl - as she passed. He heard her sobbing as she stumbled blindly by, and he was - distressed about her, for all the world loves a lover and John Stuart - Webster was no exception to this universal rule. - </p> - <p> - “By George, this is pretty tough,” he reflected. “That - young fellow treated that girl with as much gentleness and courtesy as any - gentleman should, and I'm for him and against this idea of corporal - punishment. Don't you worry, Tillie, my dear. I'm going to - horn into this game myself if it goes too far.” - </p> - <p> - The two dusky skulkers ahead of him, having come to another crosspath, - turned into it and came out on the main path in the rear of the young man. - Webster noticed that they were walking twice as fast as when he had first - observed them, and more than ever convinced that presently there might be - work for a strong man and true, he hastened after them. - </p> - <p> - As he came out into the main walk again, he noticed that the pair were - still walking on the grass. He padded gently along behind them. - </p> - <p> - The four were now rapidly approaching the old French market, and the - steadily rising babel of voices speaking in French, Italian, Spanish, - Creole patois and Choctaw, was sufficient to have drowned the slight noise - of the pursuit, even had the young man's mind not been upon other - things, and the interest of the two Central Americans centred upon their - quarry, to the exclusion, of any thought of possible interruption. - </p> - <p> - Webster felt instinctively that the two men would rush and make a - concerted attack from the rear. He smiled. - </p> - <p> - “I'll just fool you two <i>hombres</i> a whole lot,” he - thought, and stooping, picked up a small stone. On the instant the two - men, having approached within thirty feet of their quarry, made a rush for - him. - </p> - <p> - Their charge was swift, but swift though it was, the little stone which - John Stuart Webster hurled was swifter. It struck the young man fairly - between the shoulderblades with a force sufficient to bring him out of his - sentimental reverie with a jerk, as it were. He whirled, saw the danger - that threatened him, and—sprang to meet it. - </p> - <p> - “Bravo!” yelled Webster, and ran to his aid, for he had seen - now that it was to be knife work. Tragedy instead of melodrama. - </p> - <p> - The man with the puckered eye closed in with such eagerness it was - apparent to Webster that here was work to his liking. The young man raised - his light cane, but Pucker-eye did not hesitate. He merely threw up his - left forearm to meet the expected blow aimed at his head, lunged forward - and slashed viciously at the young man's abdomen. The latter drew - back a step, doubled like a jack-knife, and brought his cane down - viciously across the knuckles of his assailant's right hand. - </p> - <p> - “So it is thou, son of a pig,” he called pleasantly in - Spanish. “I fooled you that time, didn't I?” he added in - English. “Thought I would aim for your head, didn't you?” - </p> - <p> - The blow temporarily paralyzed the assassin's hand; he dropped the - knife, and as he stooped to recover it with his left hand, the young man, - before retreating from Pop-eye, kicked Pucker-eye in the face and quite - upset him. - </p> - <p> - “Stop it!” shouted Webster. - </p> - <p> - Pop-eye turned his head at the outcry. The man he was attacking fell into - the position of a swordsman en garde, and thrust viciously with the ferule - at the face of the pop-eyed man, who, disregarding Webster's - approach, seized the cane in his left hand and with a quick, powerful tug - actually drew his victim toward him a foot before the latter let go the - stick. - </p> - <p> - Before he could give ground again Pop-eye was upon him. He grasped the - young man by the latter's left arm and held him, while he drew back - for the awful disembowelling stroke; as his long arm sped forward the hook - of John Stuart Webster's heavy cane descended upon that flexed arm - in the brook of the elbow, snagging it cleverly. - </p> - <p> - The knife never reached its destination! - </p> - <p> - “You would, would you?” said Webster reproachfully, and jerked - the fellow violently around. The man he had rescued promptly struck - Pop-eye a terrible blow in the face with his left hand and broke loose - from the grip that had so nearly been his undoing; whereupon Webster - tapped the assassin a meditative tap or two on the top of his sinful head - for good measure and to awaken in him some sense of the impropriety and - futility of resistance, after which Webster turned to discuss a similar - question of ethics with Pucker-eye. - </p> - <p> - The scar-cheeked man was on his knees, groping groggily for his knife, for - he had received a severe kick under the chin, and for the nonce was far - from dangerous. Stooping, Webster picked up the knife; then with knife and - cane grasped in his left hand he seized Pucker-eye by the nape with his - right and jerked him to his feet. The assassin stood glowering at him in a - perfect frenzy of brutish, inarticulate fury. - </p> - <p> - “Take the knife away from the other fellow before he gets active - again,” Webster called over his shoulder. “I'll manage - this rascal. We'll march them over to the market and turn them over - to the police.” He spoke in Spanish. - </p> - <p> - “Thanks, ever so much, for my life,” the young man answered - lightly, and in English, “but where I come from it is not the - fashion to settle these arguments in a court of law. To call an officer is - considered unclublike; to shoot a prisoner in this country is considered - murder, and consequently I have but one alternative and I advise you, my - good friend, to have a little of the same. I'm going to run like the - devil.” - </p> - <p> - And he did. He was in full flight before Webster could glance around, and - in an instant he was lost to sight among the trees. - </p> - <p> - “That advice sounds eminently fair and reasonable,” Webster - yelled after him, and was about to follow when he observed that the young - man had abandoned his pretty little silver-chased walking stick. - </p> - <p> - “That's too nice a little stick to leave to these brigands,” - he thought, and forthwith possessed himself of it and the pop-eyed man's - knife, after which he tarried not upon the order of his going but went, - departing at top speed. - </p> - <p> - The young man he had saved from being butchered was right. An entangling - alliance with the police was, decidedly, not to John Stuart Webster's - liking, for should, he, unfortunately, form such an alliance, he would be - haled into court as a witness and perhaps miss the steamer to San - Buenaventura. - </p> - <p> - “Drat it,” he soliloquized, as he emerged from the square and - observed his taxi parked at the entrance to the market, “I came - through that square so fast I haven't the slightest idea what the - last half of it looks like. That's what I get for mixing in a little - Donnybrook that's none of my business.” - </p> - <p> - He had planned to spend an hour in the market, drink a cup of <i>café noir</i>, - smoke a cigarette, and return to his hotel in time for a leisurely - breakfast, but his recent bout with grim reality had blunted the edge of - romance. He ordered his driver to take him back to the hotel, sprang - inside and congratulated himself on his lucky escape. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XII - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>EBSTER'S - trunk went aboard the steamer early the following morning, and at noon he - entered a taxi with his hand baggage and was driven to the levee where <i>La - Estrellita</i> lay tugging gently at her mooring lines. Owing to the - congestion of freight and traffic the chauffeur stopped his cab a little - distance from the gangplank, where Webster discharged him with a liberal - tip. - </p> - <p> - The latter, however, swung his passenger's bag and suitcase to the - ground, picked them up and started for the gangplank. - </p> - <p> - “Never mind my baggage, lad,” Webster called after him. - “One of the deck boys will care for it.” The chauffeur turned. - “You've been very generous with me, sir,” he answered, - “so I think I had better carry your baggage aboard. If you permit a - deck boy to handle it, you merely have to give another tip, and that would - be sheer wanton waste. Why shouldn't I earn the one you gave me?” - </p> - <p> - “I hadn't figured it out that way, son, so here's - another half dollar for being the only existing specimen of your species - in captivity. My stateroom is No. 34, upper deck, port side,” - Webster answered, smiling. The man took the tip eagerly and hurried toward - the gangplank; the quartermaster on duty shouldered a way for him and he - darted aboard? - </p> - <p> - Webster followed leisurely. At the gangplank the purser's clerk - halted him, examined his tickets and punched them. - </p> - <p> - “Where is the other man?” he asked. “You have two - tickets here.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, that blamed valet of mine,” Webster answered, and glanced - around as if in search of that mythical functionary. “It would be - like the stupid fellow to miss the boat,” he added. “When he - comes——” - </p> - <p> - Webster ceased speaking abruptly. He was looking straight into the - malevolent orbs of Pucker-eye, who was standing just behind the clerk at - the foot of the gangplank. - </p> - <p> - “I wonder if Popeye's around, also,” Webster thought, - and he faced about. Pop-eye was standing in back of him, leaning over the - railing of the gangway. - </p> - <p> - “Which is the valet?” the purser's clerk asked, scanning - the names on the tickets. - </p> - <p> - “Andrew Bowers.” - </p> - <p> - “All right, Mr. Webster,” the other answered, with that genial - camaraderie that seems inseparable from all of his calling. “When - Andrew comes I'll send him aboard.” - </p> - <p> - He started to pass the tickets back to Webster, but a detaining hand - rested on his arm, while a dark thumb and forefinger lifted the trailing - strips of tickets. Pucker-eye was examining them also. - </p> - <p> - He sent his elbow backward violently into Pucker-eye's midriff and - shook him off roughly. - </p> - <p> - “What do you mean, you black-and-tan hound?” he demanded. - “Since when did you begin to O. K. my work?” - </p> - <p> - Pucker-eye made no reply to this stern reproof. He accepted the elbow with - equanimity, and faced Webster with an evil smile that indicated mutual - recognition. - </p> - <p> - “Bueno,” he said, with such genuine satisfaction that Webster - could not help demanding: - </p> - <p> - “<i>Por que es bueno?</i> (Why is it good?)” - </p> - <p> - “We meet the senor first in the teeket office. We meet the senor - again yesterday morning, no? After, we remember we have meet the senor in - the teeket office! <i>Quien sabe?</i> The senor he ees sail on <i>La - Estrellita</i> for San Buenaventura, no?” - </p> - <p> - “So you came nosing around to see about it, eh? Doing a little plain - gumshoe work, I see.” - </p> - <p> - Pucker-eye bowed. By the simple exercise of courage and bad manners he had - looked at John Stuart Webster's ticket and was now familiar with his - name and destination. - </p> - <p> - The object of this solicitude had little difficulty in guessing the reason - behind it all, and he was not happy. He would have preferred that the - incident of their former meeting should not be held against him; he wished - most devoutedly that his part in the ruction in Jackson Square on Sunday - morning might have been forgotten by all concerned, and this revival of - the unpleasant episode was slightly disconcerting. - </p> - <p> - As a usual thing he was loth to interject himself in the affairs of other - people, and had a deep-seated animosity against those who did; he would - have preferred to round out his existence without having to take into - consideration the presence of a twin Nemesis. However, since the fat was - in the fire, so to speak, Webster felt that there was nothing for him to - do save brazen things out as best he could, so he glowered darkly at - Pucker-eye and said: - </p> - <p> - “Well, you scoundrelly cutthroat, what are you going to do about it? - Try a little of your knife work on me, I suppose?” - </p> - <p> - Pucker-eye did not answer, but his beady glance wavered and shifted before - the cool, contemptuous menace of Webster's blue eyes. - </p> - <p> - “Listen, <i>hombre</i>,” Webster continued. “I know your - kind of people like a nigger knows cologne. I know what you'd like - to do to me in exchange for what I did to you yesterday morning, but you - take a tip from me and don't try it, or one of these days they'll - be walking slow behind you and your <i>companero</i>, and you won't - know it!” - </p> - <p> - The fellow grinned—the kind of grin that is composed of equal parts - of ferocity and knowledge of superior strength. That grin did more to - disconcert Webster than the knowledge that he had earned for himself two - bloodthirsty and implacable enemies, for Pucker-eye was the first of his - breed that Webster had ever seen smile under insult. That cool smile - infuriated him. - </p> - <p> - Pucker-eye took out a cigarette case, selected a cigarette, and presented - the case to Webster. His bad manners in selecting his own cigarette first - was deliberate, as Webster knew. It was the Latin-American's method - of showing his contempt. - </p> - <p> - “We shall meet again, Meester Webstaire,” he said. “May - I offer the senor a cigarette for the—what you Americans call—the - keepsake? No?” He smiled brightly and closed his puckered eye in a - knowing wink. - </p> - <p> - Webster took his tickets from the purser, folded them, placed them in his - pocket and for a few seconds regarded Pucker-eye contemptuously. - </p> - <p> - “When we meet again, you scum,” he retorted quietly, “you - shall have no difficulty in remembering me. You may keep your cigarette.” - </p> - <p> - His long, powerful right arm shot out; like a forceps his thumb and - forefinger closed over Pucker-eve's rather flat nose; he squeezed, - and with a shrill scream of agony Pucker-eye went to his knees. - </p> - <p> - Still holding the wretch by his proboscis, Webster turned quickly in order - that his face might be toward Pop-eye. - </p> - <p> - “Pop-eye,” he said, “if you take a hand in this, I'll - twist your nose, too, and afterward I'll throw you in the river.” - </p> - <p> - He turned to Pucker-eye. - </p> - <p> - “Up, thou curious little one,” he said in Spanish, and jerked - the unhappy rascal to his feet. The latter clawed ineffectually at the - terrible arm which held him, until, presently discovering that the harder - he struggled the harder Webster pinched his nose, he ceased his struggles - and hung limply, moaning with pain and rage in the grip of the American. - </p> - <p> - “Good!” Webster announced, slacking his grip a little. With - his left hand he deftly extracted a hair from each flank of the screaming - little scoundrel's scant moustache, and held them before the latter's - tear-filled eyes. - </p> - <p> - “My friend,” he said gently, “mark how the gringo gives - his little dark brother a lesson in deportment. Behold, if I have given - thee a souvenir of our meeting, I also have taken one. By this pinched and - throbbing nose shall I be remembered when I am gone; by these hairs from - thy rat's moustache shall I remember thee. Go, and thrust not that - nose into a gringo's business again. It is unsafe.” - </p> - <p> - He released Pucker-eye, nodded brightly to the purser's clerk and - quartermaster, who, spellbound and approving, had watched him mete out - retribution according to his code, and went aboard, just as an assistant - steward came hurrying along the deck beating a lusty solo on a triangle—the - signal for all non-passengers to go ashore. - </p> - <p> - Webster made his way through the crowd to his room, looked in, saw that - his baggage was there, and walked around on the starboard side to join in - the general farewell of all on board to the crowd on the levee. - </p> - <p> - At the shore end of the gangplank Pucker-eye and Pop-eye still waited. The - unfortunate Pucker-eye was weeping with pain and futile rage and - humiliation, but Webster noticed that Pop-eye's attention was not on - his friend but upon each passenger that boarded the ship, of which there - were the usual number of late arrivals. As each passenger approached, - Pop-eye scanned him with more than casual interest. - </p> - <p> - Webster smiled. “Looking for that valet they heard me talking about,” - he reflected. “Pop-eye, you're a fine, capable lad. I thought - you had the brains of the two. You're not going away until you've - had a chance to size up the reinforcements at my command, are you?” - </p> - <p> - Promptly at one o'clock the captain mounted the bridge and ordered - the gangplank drawn ashore. The breastline was cast off; with a long-drawn - bellow from her siren the wheel of <i>La Estrellita</i> commenced to churn - the muddy water and her bow swung gently outboard, while the stern line - acted as a spring. With the stern line slackened and cast overboard the - vessel pushed slowly out into the stream where the current caught her and - swung her in a wide arc. Webster watched Pucker-eye and Pop-eye leave the - landing arm in arm. Pop-eye was sporty enough to wave at him, and Webster, - not to be outdone in kind, waved back. - </p> - <p> - He lighted a cigar and leaned over the rail as the steamer, gathering - speed, swept down river. - </p> - <p> - “Good-bye, you golden fizz and chicken gumbo,” he called, as - the city receded and the low, wooded shores below the city came into view. - He had forgotten Pucker-eye and Pop-eye in the flood of poignant regret - that swept over him at the memory of the peerless Antoine! - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XIII - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>HEN he had - finished his cigar he cast the stump overboard, watched it until it - disappeared astern, and then went around to state-room No. 34. As he - stepped in, and closed the door a masculine voice said very pleasantly: - </p> - <p> - “How do you do?” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Webster looked up and beheld a young man, arrayed in a very fancy pair - of light blue silk pyjamas, stretched at his ease in the upper berth. In - his right hand he held an open book; his left hand grasped his bare right - foot, which he was rubbing comfortably; in his mouth he held an aromatic - Turkish cigarette. He was very much at home, no doubt of that, for he was - smiling in the friendliest fashion imaginable. - </p> - <p> - John Stuart Webster stared at the stranger for several seconds and - concluded he was invading the sanctity of another's stateroom. - “Excuse me,” he said, “I guess I'm in the right - church but the wrong pew,” and he stepped out and looked for the - number on the stateroom. To his surprise it <i>was</i> No. 34 after all, - so he stepped back into the stateroom and favoured the stranger with - another scrutiny. - </p> - <p> - “It does appear to me, my friend,” he said presently, “that - I detect something strangely familiar about your pyjamas.” - </p> - <p> - “I wouldn't be the least bit surprised, Mr. Webster. I found - them in your suitcase.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, how do you do?” Webster declared. “Pretty well, - all things considered. May I offer you one of your own cigarettes? I found - them in the suitcase also, and can recommend them highly.” - </p> - <p> - “Thank you very much.” Webster helped himself to a cigarette - and sat down on the settee. Fell a silence of perhaps half a minute. Then: - </p> - <p> - “I dislike to appear inquisitive,” Webster began, “but - the fact is, neighbour, I'm curious to know where you got that book. - I observe you are reading Samuel Butler's 'Way of all Flesh,' - and that the book is slightly damaged. Recently I purchased such a book in——” - </p> - <p> - “Pray do not take the trouble to explain,” the other answered - airily. “I discovered this excellent book in your suitcase also. In - fact, for me, that suitcase has proved to be a repository of treasures.” - John Stuart Webster's neck came out of his collar with the - suddenness of a turtle snapping at a fly; he drew himself up beside the - top berth until his face was on a level with his unbidden guest's, - upon whom he bent a look of mingled emotions. On his part the stranger - returned his gaze with grave interest, and when the silence threatened to - become embarrassing he said: - </p> - <p> - “Will you have the goodness to press that button? I think we should - drink a bumper to our better acquaintance and I have no doubt but that the - barkeeper on this packet can manufacture a golden fizz. Do you care for - the famous New Orleans golden fizz?” - </p> - <p> - “It is a wonderful institution,” Webster replied, “and I'll - have one. I need it to sustain me, for I am faint with amazement.” - He pressed the button. “'While the golden fizz is fizzing,” - he continued, “suppose you let me have a look at your ticket.” - </p> - <p> - “Ticket?” echoed his visitor. “I haven't any - ticket. A kind gentleman bought one for me and has it in his possession. - Do you, sir, by any chance, happen to be that philanthropic individual?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I'll be——” - </p> - <p> - “Hush!” the stranger warned, raising an admonitory finger. - “No profanity, please. I have been tenderly reared and cuss words - will only shock me and clog the atmosphere. I'm here to do you and - do you a delicate brown, so bear up, kind sir, and take your walloping - like a sport.” - </p> - <p> - “Who the devil are you?” John Stuart Webster demanded. - </p> - <p> - “I regret I have no card, but even if I had it would be no kindness - to inflict upon an American gentleman the cognomen my parents honoured me - with, for it is long and many-jointed, like a peanut, and embodies the - names of all the saints in the calendar. Moreover, just at present I am - travelling under an alias. I am known as Mr. Andrew Bowers.” - </p> - <p> - “And your occupation?” Webster managed to articulate. - </p> - <p> - “Valet de chambre to that prince of gentlemen, Mr. John S. Webster,” - the other replied with a mischievous gleam in his dark eyes. - </p> - <p> - Mr. Webster sat down limply on the settee. He was undecided whether to - roar with laughter or shriek with rage; while he struggled for a decision - Andrew Bowers blew smoke rings at the ceiling. - </p> - <p> - “Haven't I seen you before?” Webster queried presently. - </p> - <p> - “I wouldn't be surprised. I drove you down to the steamer in a - taxi half an hour ago. You will recall that the taxi driver carried your - luggage aboard.” - </p> - <p> - Webster gazed around the stateroom. “Where have you hidden your - livery?” he demanded. - </p> - <p> - “I wrapped it in a newspaper; then, seeking a moment when the deck - outside was deserted, I stepped forth in my—I beg your pardon, your—pyjamas - and tossed it overboard.” - </p> - <p> - “But apparently you did not bring aboard with you a suit of clothes - to take the place of your livery?” - </p> - <p> - “Quite true—lamentably so, Mr. Webster. Perhaps you will - accept my desperate need as an excuse for borrowing your pyjamas. I notice - you have another suit of them. Fortunate man!” - </p> - <p> - When confronted by something mysterious it was not John Stuart's - habit to ask innumerable questions, and for the space of two minutes he - gave himself up to deduction and a close scrutiny of his companion. - </p> - <p> - Andrew Bowers was a man of perhaps thirty years, five feet ten inches - tall, and apparently in excellent health. He might have weighed a hundred - and seventy pounds and he was undeniably handsome. His head was nobly - formed and covered with thick, wavy hair, shiny and black as ebony; his - eyes were dark blue; the eyebrows, thick but fine and silky, almost met - over the bridge of a thin, high nose that was just a trifle too long for - his face. Webster decided it was the nose of a thinker. Andrew Bowers's - forehead was broad and high and his head was thick forward of the ears, - infallible sign of brains; his mouth and chin were full of determination, - although capable of a smile of singular sweetness; while the skin on his - legs was milk-white, his hands and face were tanned to the colour of a - manzanita stick, seeming to indicate that he had lived an outdoor life. - </p> - <p> - While Webster was wondering whether his companion was merely a high-class - tramp or an absconding bank cashier, a knock sounded on the stateroom - door. He opened it and the purser stood in the entrance. - </p> - <p> - “Tickets, please?” he announced. - </p> - <p> - Webster surrendered both tickets, receiving in turn two seat checks for - the dining saloon, and the purser passed on to the next cabin. - </p> - <p> - Andrew Bowers smiled a small, prescient smile, but said nothing and - presently John Stuart Webster broke the silence. “Well,” he - ordered “sing the song or tell the story.” - </p> - <p> - “I noticed you surrendered my ticket to the purser,” the young - man answered irrelevantly, “and I am glad of that. I take it as <i>prima - facie</i> evidence that you have made up your mind to accept my company.” - </p> - <p> - “You're too infernally cool and cocksure, my friend,” - Webster warned him testily. “I pride myself on a sense of humour and - I dearly love a joke until it's carried too far, but be advised in - time, young man, and don't try to play horse with me. I haven't - made up my mind to accept your company, although, provided you do not rub - my fur the wrong way, I may decide to put up with you, for whether you are - a decayed gentleman or an engaging scoundrel, you are, at least, - intelligent and impressive, clean, white, resourceful, and pleasant. - However, my acceptance or non-acceptance of you is a subject for future - discussion, since at present we have some fiduciary matters before us. You - owe me fifty dollars for your ticket, Andrew Bowers, and in view of the - fact that I never saw you before to-day, suppose we start the voyage by - squaring the account.” - </p> - <p> - Andrew Bowers sat up in the berth and let his legs drape over the side. - “Mr. Webster,” he began seriously, “had I sung my song - or told my story before you surrendered that ticket to the purser I might - have found myself in a most embarrassing predicament. If, prior to the - arrival of the purser to collect the tickets, you had handed my ticket to - me, saying: 'Here is your ticket, Mr. Bowers. Be kind enough to - reimburse me to the extent of fifty dollars,' I should have been - compelled to admit then, as I do now, that I haven't fifty dollars. - Fortunately for me, however, you surrendered the ticket to the purser - before acquainting yourself with the state of my fortunes; the voyage has - commenced and whether you like it or not, my dear sir, I am your guest - from now until we reach San Buenaventura. Rather an interesting situation, - don't you think?” - </p> - <p> - John Stuart Webster was of Scotch ancestry. He had an hereditary regard - for his baubees. He was a business man. Prodigal spender though he was and - generous to a fault, the fact remained that he always made it a point to - get value received, and he was prodigal with his own money; he preferred - that the privilege of prodigality with the Websterian funds should remain - an inalienable prerogative of the sole surviving member of the Webster - family. He gazed contemplatively now upon his devil-may-care, unbidden - guest, torn between a desire to whisk him out of the berth and shake him - until his teeth fell out, and another to be just and patient, in the hope - that some great extenuating circumstance might be adduced to account for - this impudent daylight robbery. Mr. Webster had been deluded, cheated, - robbed, and pillaged many a time and oft in the course of his rather - eventful career, but he had yet to meet the man who, having swindled him - out of fifty dollars, had the effrontery to add insult to injury by - exhibiting a perfectly obvious intention of making him like it. Indeed, - John Stuart Webster was obsessed with a secret fear that the smiling - bandit in the upper berth was going to succeed in his nefarious design, - and, in the contemplation of this unheard-of <i>contretemps</i>, the - genial John was struck temporarily speechless. - </p> - <p> - “The last cent I had in the world went to that taxi person whose - taxi I borrowed and whose old uniform I purchased,” Andrew Bowers - supplemented his confession. - </p> - <p> - “You asked me to ring for two golden fizzes,” Webster - reproached him. “Am I to be stuck for the drinks? Not satisfied with - rooking me for a first-class passage to San Buenaventura you plan to tack - on extras, eh?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I'll pay for the drinks,” Andrew Bowers assured - him. - </p> - <p> - “How can you, if you gave your last cent to that taxi driver?” - </p> - <p> - “You tipped me very liberally for carrying your baggage aboard,” - Andrew Bowers retorted slyly. - </p> - <p> - “Ouch!” cried Mr. Webster, and laughed. The very next instant - he was provoked at himself for having done so. That laugh gave the brigand - Andrew a decided advantage, for it placed Webster on defensive ground. He - was convinced of this when the brigand said: - </p> - <p> - “Thanks for that laugh, Mr. Webster. It arouses hope in my sad - heart. I have outraged your patience, your privacy, and your pocketbook—yet - you laughed. <i>Bueno</i>. I will be equally good-natured and forgive you - for questioning my sincerity in the matter of dispensing my hospitality; - even the little slur cast on my veracity in the matter of my finances - shall pass unnoticed.” - </p> - <p> - “I think you're too cool, young man,” Webster retorted. - “Just a trifle too cocksure. Up to the present moment you have - proffered no evidence why you should not be adjudged a cad, and I do not - like cads and must decline to permit one to occupy the same stateroom at - my expense. You are clever and amusing and I laughed at you, but at the - same time my sense of humour is not so great as to cause me to overlook - your impudence and laugh with you. Now, if you have anything to say, say - it quickly, because you're going to go away from here—in a - hurry.” - </p> - <p> - “I plead guilty to the indictment, Mr. Webster, and submit as an - excuse the fact that desperate circumstances require desperate measures. I - am not begging my way, neither am I beating it, for the reason that both - forms of travel are repugnant to me. I am merely taking advantage of - certain fortuitous circumstances to force you, an entire stranger, to - extend to me a credit of fifty dollars until we reach San Buenaventura - when you will be promptly reimbursed. I had thought,” he added - sadly, “that my face might prove ample security for a fifty-dollar - loan. There has never been a crook in my family and I have never been - charged with a penal offence or been in jail.” - </p> - <p> - “It is not my habit,” Webster retorted stiffly, “to - extend credit to strangers who demand it.” - </p> - <p> - “I do not demand it, sir. I beg it of you, and because I cannot - afford to be refused I took care to arrange matters so that you would not - be likely to refuse my request. Really, I do not mean to be cocksure and - impudent, but before you throw me out I'd like to let you in on a - secret about yourself.” - </p> - <p> - “Well?” - </p> - <p> - “You're not going to throw me out.” - </p> - <p> - “Why not?” - </p> - <p> - “Because you can't.” - </p> - <p> - “That's fighting talk. Now, just to prove to you the depth of - error in which you flounder, young man, I am about to throw you out.” - And he grasped Andrew Bowers in the grip of a grizzly bear and whisked him - out of the top berth. - </p> - <p> - “Wait one second,” his helpless victim cried. “I have - something to say before you go any further.” - </p> - <p> - “Say it,” Webster ordered. “Your tongue is the only part - of you that I cannot control.” - </p> - <p> - “When you throw me out on deck,” Andrew Bowers queried, - “do your pyjamas go with me? Does the hair go with the hide?” - </p> - <p> - “They cost me sixteen dollars in Salt Lake City, but—good - lord, yes. I can't throw you out mother naked; damn it, I can't - throw you out at all.” - </p> - <p> - “Didn't I tell you so? Be a good fellow and turn me loose.” - </p> - <p> - “Certainly—for the time being. You'll stay locked in - this stateroom while I have a talk with the captain. He'll probably - dig up a shirt, a pair of dungarees, and some old shoes for you and set - you ashore before we get out of the river. If he doesn't do that he'll - keep you aboard and you'll shovel coal for your passage.” - </p> - <p> - “But I'm Andrew Bowers and the purser has collected my - first-class ticket!” - </p> - <p> - “What of it? I shall declare—and with truth—that you are - not Andrew Bowers, that you are not my valet, and that I did not buy the - ticket for you. I dare you to face the captain in my pyjamas and prove you - aren't a stowaway.” - </p> - <p> - “You would win on that point,” the baffling guest admitted, - “but it is a point you will not raise. Why? Because I have another - trump up my kimono.” He climbed back into the upper berth and from - that vantage point gazed down benevolently upon John Stuart Webster. - “I'm disappointed in you,” he continued sadly. “I - thought you'd show a little normal human curiosity about me—and - you haven't. You do not ask questions or I could explain, while I - cannot volunteer information without seeming to seek your pity, and that - course would be repugnant to me. I have never shovelled coal, although I - daresay I could manage to earn my passage as a stoker; indeed, I daresay I - shall have to, if you insist on being belligerent, and if you insist I - shall not oppose you. I am hoping, however, that you will not insist, but - that you will, on the contrary, accept my word of honour that you shall be - reimbursed two hours after you land in San Buenaventura.” - </p> - <p> - “New music to your song, my friend, but the same old words,” - Webster retorted, and stepped to the stateroom door. “You're - doomed to shovel coal or go ashore.” - </p> - <p> - “Listen. If I go ashore, your responsibility for my life ceases, Mr. - Webster, but if the chief engineer happens to be short one coal-passer and - the captain sends me down to the stokehole, your responsibility for my - death begins, for I'll be put ashore publicly at San Buenaventura - and two hours later I'll be facing a firing squad in the cemetery of - the Catedrâl de la Vera Cruz.” - </p> - <p> - “Gosh,” John Stuart Webster murmured dazedly, “I'm - afraid I can't take a chance like that for fifty dollars.” - </p> - <p> - A knock sounded on the door and Webster opened it. A waiter stood in the - entrance. “Did you ring, sir?” he queried. - </p> - <p> - “I did,” replied John Stuart Webster. “Bring up two - glasses and a quart of the best wine aboard the ship.” - </p> - <p> - The waiter hastened away and Webster turned to face the little, cryptic, - humorous smile that made his travelling companion so singularly boyish and - attractive. - </p> - <p> - “You win, son,” Webster declared. “I'm whipped to - a frazzle. Any time I'm sitting in back of a royal flush and the - other fellow bluffs me out of the pot, I always buy the wine. When it - arrives we shall drink to our better acquaintance. Pending its arrival, - please be advised that you are welcome to my pyjamas, my cigarettes, my - book, and my stateroom. You are my guest and you owe me nothing, except, - perhaps, your confidence, although I do not insist upon that point. Where - I come from every man kills his own snakes.” - </p> - <p> - And he held up his hand for Andrew Bowers to shake. - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Webster,” the latter declared feelingly, “I am not - a lord of language, so I cannot find words to thank you. I agree with you - that you are entitled to my confidence. My name is——” - </p> - <p> - “Tut, tut, my boy. Your name is Andrew Bowers, and that identifies - you sufficiently for the time being. Your face is a guaranty of your - character and entitles you to a nominal credit.” - </p> - <p> - “But——” - </p> - <p> - “Make me no buts. I care not who you are; perhaps what I do not know - will not distress me. When I suggested that I was entitled to a measure of - your confidence, I meant on a few minor points only—points on which - my curiosity has been abnormally aroused.” - </p> - <p> - “Very well, my friend. Fire away.” - </p> - <p> - “Are you an American citizen?” - </p> - <p> - “No, I am a citizen of Sobrante.” - </p> - <p> - “You have assured me that you are not a crook; consequently I know - you are not fleeing from the United States authorities. You had no money - to pay for your passage to San Buenaventura so you schemed to make me pay - your way. Hence I take it that your presence in the capital of your native - country is a matter of extreme importance and that the clerk in the ticket - office of the Caribbean Mail Line is a friend of yours.” - </p> - <p> - “Quite true. He knew my need.” - </p> - <p> - “You were under surveillance and could not leave New Orleans for San - Buenaventura unless you left secretly. When I purchased both berths in - this stateroom and the ticket clerk knew I held a firstclass ticket for a - valet that was not, he decided to saw off on me a valet that was. So he - gave you my name and the name of my hotel, you arranged matters with the - taxi starter and the taxi driver and drove me to the steamer. Disguised in - the livery of a chauffeur and carrying hand baggage you hoped to get - aboard without being detected by your enemies who watched the gangplank.” - </p> - <p> - Andrew Bowers nodded. - </p> - <p> - “Do you think you succeeded?” Webster continued. - </p> - <p> - “I do not know, Mr. Webster. I hope so. If I did not—well, the - instant this steamer drops anchor in the roadstead at San Buenaventura, - she will be boarded and searched by the military police, I will be - discovered and——” He shrugged. - </p> - <p> - “Lawn party in the cemetery, eh?” Webster suggested. - </p> - <p> - Andrew Bowers reached under his pillow and produced two heavy automatic - pistols and a leathern box containing five clips of cartridges. These he - exhibited in silence and then thrust them back under the pillow. - </p> - <p> - “I see, Andrew. In case you're cornered, eh? Well, I think I - would prefer to die fighting myself. However, let us hope you will not - have to face any such unpleasant alternative.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm not worried, Mr. Webster. Somehow, I think I ran the - gauntlet safely.” - </p> - <p> - “But why did you throw your livery overboard?” - </p> - <p> - “It was of no further use to me. A chauffeur on shipboard would be - most incongruous, and the sight of the livery hanging on yonder peg would - be certain to arouse the curiosity of the room steward. And I'm not - going to appear on deck throughout the voyage, might meet somebody who - knows me.” - </p> - <p> - “But you'll have to have some clothes in which to go ashore, - you amazing man.” - </p> - <p> - “Not at all. The steamer will arrive in the harbour of San - Buenaventura late in the afternoon—too late to be given pratique - that day. After dark I shall drop overboard and endeavour to swim ashore, - and in view of that plan clothes would only prove an embarrassment. I - shall land in my own country naked and penniless, but once ashore I shall - quickly find shelter. I'll have to risk the sharks, of course.” - </p> - <p> - “Man-eaters?” - </p> - <p> - “The bay is swarming with them.” - </p> - <p> - “You're breaking my heart,” Webster declared - sympathetically. “I suppose you're going to feign illness - throughout the voyage.” - </p> - <p> - “Not the land of illness that will interfere with my appetite. I - have prescribed for myself a mild attack of inflammatory rheumatism, as an - excuse for remaining in bed and having my meals brought to me. This - service, of course, will necessitate some slight expense in the way of - tips, but I am hoping you will see your way clear to taking care of that - for your guest.” - </p> - <p> - Silently Webster handed Andrew Bowers ten dollars in silver. “That - ought to hold you,” he declared. “For the rest, you're - up to some political skullduggery in Sobrante, and what it is and what's - your real name are two subjects in which I am not interested. I am on a - vacation and intend to amuse myself. If I find you as amusing as you - appear at the outset of our acquaintance I shall do my best to break the - tedium of your confinement in this stateroom and if I find you dull I - shall leave you to your own devices. Let us talk anything but business and - personalities and let it be understood that you are my valet, Andrew - Bowers. That's all I know about you and that's all I care to - know about you. In fact, the less I know about you the less will I have to - explain in the event of your sudden demise.” - </p> - <p> - “Fair enough,” quoth Andrew Bowers. “You're a man - after my own heart. I thank you.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XIV - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">P</span>RIOR to leaving - New Orleans, Webster had cabled Billy Geary that he was taking passage on - <i>La Estrellita</i> and stating the approximate date of his arrival at - San Buenaventura—which information descended upon that young man - with something of the charm of a gentle rainfall over a hitherto arid - district. He had been seeing Dolores Ruey at least once a day ever since - her return to Sobrante; indeed, only the fear that he might wear out his - welcome prevented him from seeing her twice a day. He was quick, - therefore, to seize upon Webster's cablegram as an excuse to call - upon Dolores and explain the mystery surrounding his friend's - nonappearance. - </p> - <p> - “Well, Dolores,” he began, in his excitement calling her by - her first name for the first time, “they say it's a long lane - that hasn't got a saloon at the end of it. I've heard from - Jack Webster.” - </p> - <p> - “What's the news, Bill?” Dolores inquired. From the - first day of their acquaintance she had been growing increasingly fond of - Geary; for nearly a week she had been desirous of calling him Bill, which - is a comfortable name and, to Dolores's way of thinking, a - peculiarly appropriate cognomen for such a distinctly American young man. - At mention of the beloved word he glanced down at her pleasurably. - </p> - <p> - “Thank you,” he said. “I'm glad you got around to - it finally. Those that love me always call me Bill.” - </p> - <p> - “You called me Dolores.” - </p> - <p> - “I move we make it unanimous. I'm a foe to formality.” - </p> - <p> - “Second the motion, Bill. So am I—when I care to be—and - in our case your formality is spoiling our comradeship. And now, with - reference to the extraordinary Senor Webster——” - </p> - <p> - “Why, the poor old horse has been down with ptomaine poisoning. They - carried him off the train at St. Louis and stood him on his head and - pumped him out and just did manage to cancel his order for a new - tombstone. He says he's feeding regularly again and has booked - passage on <i>La Estrellita</i>, so we can look for him on the next - steamer arriving.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, the poor fellow!” Dolores murmured—so fervently - that Billy was on the point of hurling his heart at her feet on the - instant. - </p> - <p> - The thousand dollars Webster had cabled Billy “for a road-stake” - had been dwindling rapidly under the stimulus of one continous opportunity - to spend the same in a quarter where it was calculated to bring the most - joy. The pleasures of the Sobrantean capital were not such that the - average Yankee citizen might be inspired to prefer them with any degree of - enthusiasm, but such as they were, Dolores Ruey had them all. In a country - where the line between pure blood and mixed is drawn so strictly as it is - in Sobrante, Billy Geary was, of course, a social impossibility. He was a - Caucasian who would shake hands and have a drink with a gentleman whose - nails showed blue at the bases, for all his white skin—and in the - limited upper-class circles of Buenaventura, where none but pure-bred - descendants of purebred Castilians intermingled, the man or woman who - failed, however slightly, to remember at all times that he was white, was - distinctly <i>persona non grata</i>. - </p> - <p> - The first time Billy appeared in public riding in the same victoria with - Mother Jenks and Dolores, therefore, he was fully aware that for the - future Dolores Ruey was like himself, socially defunct in Sobrante. - However, he did not care, for he had a sneaking suspicion Dolores was as - indifferent as he; in fact, he took a savage delight in the knowledge that - the girl would be proscribed, for with Dolores cut off from all other - society she must, of necessity, turn to him throughout her visit. So, up - to the night <i>La Estrellita</i>, with John Stuart Webster on board, - dropped anchor on the quarantine-ground, Mr. Geary was the unflagging - ballyhoo for a personally conducted tour of Dolores Ruey's native - land within a radius of fifteen miles about Buenaventura. He was - absolutely bogged in the quagmire of his first love affair, but until his - mining concession should amply justify an avowal of his passion, an - instinctive sense of the eternal fitness of things reminded Billy of the - old proverb that a closed mouth catches no flies. And in the meantime - (such is the optimism of youth) he decided there was no need for worry, - for when a girl calls a fellow Bill, when she tells him he's a scout - and doesn't care a whoop for any society except his—<i>caramba!</i> - it's great! - </p> - <p> - A wireless from Webster warned Billy of the former's imminent - arrival. Just before sunset Billy and Dolores, riding along the Malecon, - sighted a blur of smoke far out to sea—a blur that grew and grew - until they could make out the graceful white hull of <i>La Estrellita</i>, - before the swift tropic night descended and the lights of the great vessel - shimmered across the harbour. - </p> - <p> - “Too late to clear quarantine to-night,” Billy mourned, as he - and Dolores rode back to her hotel. “All the same, I'm going - to borrow the launch of my good friend Leber and his <i>protégé</i> Don - Juan Cafetéro, and go out to the steamer to-night. I can heave to a little - way from the steamer and welcome the old rascal, anyhow; he'll be - expecting me to do that, and I wouldn't disappoint him for a farm.” - </p> - <p> - Fortunately, good little Leber consented to Billy's request, and Don - Juan Cafetéro was sober enough to turn the engine over and run the launch. - From the deck of the steamer Webster, smoking his postprandial cigar, - caught sight of the launch's red and green sidelights chugging - through the inky blackness; as the little craft slid up to within a cable's-length - of the steamer and hove to, something told Webster that Billy Geary would - soon be paging him. He edged over to the rail. - </p> - <p> - “That you, Bill?” he shouted. - </p> - <p> - “Hey! Jack, old pal!” Billy's delighted voice answered - him. - </p> - <p> - “I knew you'd come, Billy boy.” - </p> - <p> - “I knew you'd know it, Johnny. Can't come aboard, you - know, until the ship clears, but I can lie off here and say hello. How is - your internal mechanism?” - </p> - <p> - “Grand. I've got the world by the tail on a down-hill haul - once more, son. However, your query reminds me I haven't taken the - medicine the doctor warned me to take after meals for a couple of weeks. - Wait a minute, Bill, until I go to my stateroom and do my duty by my - stomach.” - </p> - <p> - For ten minutes Billy and Don Juan Cafetéro bobbed about in the launch; - then a stentorian voice shouted from the steamer. “Hey, you! In the - launch, there. Not so close. Back off.” - </p> - <p> - Don Juan kicked the launch back fifty feet. “That will do!” - the voice called again. - </p> - <p> - “Hello!” Billy soliloquized. “That's Jack Webster's - voice. I've heard him bossing a gang of miners too often not to - recognize that note of command. Wonder what he's up to. I thought he - acted strangely—preferring medicine to me the minute I hailed him!” - </p> - <p> - While he was considering the matter, a voice behind him said very softly - and indistinctly, like a man with a harelip: - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Geary, will you be good enough to back your launch a couple of - hundred feet? When I'm certain I can't be seen from the - steamer, I'll come aboard.” Billy turned, and in the dim light - of his binnacle lamp observed a beautiful pair of white hands grasping the - gunwale on the starboard quarter. He peered over and made out the head and - shoulders of a man. - </p> - <p> - “All right,” he replied in a low voice. “Hang where you - are, and you'll be clear of the propeller.” - </p> - <p> - He signalled Don Juan, who backed swiftly away, while Billy doused the - binnacle lamp. - </p> - <p> - “That'll do,” the thick voice said presently. “Bear - a hand, friend, and I'll climb over.” - </p> - <p> - He came, as naked as Mercury, sprawled on his belly in the cockpit, opened - his mouth, spat out a compact little roll of tinfoil, opened it and drew - out a ball of paper which he flattened out on the floor of the cockpit and - handed up to Billy. - </p> - <p> - “Thank you,” he said, very courteously and distinctly now. - “My credentials, Mr. Geary, if you please.” - </p> - <p> - Billy re-lighted the lamp and read: - </p> - <p> - Dear Billy: - </p> - <p> - I do not know the bearer from Adam's off ox; all I know about him is - that he has all the outward marks of a gentleman, the courage of a - bear-cat, a sense of humor and a head for which the Présidente of Sobrante - will gladly pay a considerable number of <i>pesos oro</i>. Don't - give up the head, because I like it and we do not need the money—yet. - Take him ashore without anybody knowing it; hide him, clothe him, feed him—then - forget all about him. - </p> - <p> - Ever thine, - </p> - <p> - J. S. Webster. - </p> - <p> - “Kick the boat ahead again, Cafferty,” Billy ordered quietly. - He turned to the late arrival. - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Man, your credentials are all in apple-pie order. Do you happen - to know this bay is swarming with man-eating sharks?” - </p> - <p> - The man raised a fine, strong, youthful face and grinned at him. “Hobson's - choice, Mr. Geary,” he replied. “Afloat or ashore, the sharks - are after me. Sir, I am your debtor.” He crawled into the cabin and - stretched out on the settee as John Stuart Webster's voice came - floating across the dark waters. “Hey, Billy!” - </p> - <p> - “Hey, yourself!” - </p> - <p> - “Everything well with you, Billy?” - </p> - <p> - “All is lovely, Jack, and the goose honks high. By the way, that - friend of yours called with his letter of introduction. I took care of - him.” - </p> - <p> - “Thanks. I suppose you'll call for me in that launch to-morrow - morning?” - </p> - <p> - “Surest thing you know, Jack. Good-night, old top.” - </p> - <p> - “Good-night, Billy. See you in the morning.” Don Juan Cafetéra - swung the launch and headed back for the city. At Leber's little - dock Billy stepped ashore, while Don Juan backed out into the dark bay - again in order to avoid inquisitive visitors. Billy hastened to El Buen - Amigo and returned presently with a bundle of clothes; at an agreed signal - Don Juan kicked the launch into the dock again and Billy went aboard. - </p> - <p> - “Hat, shirt, necktie, duck suit, white socks, and shoes,” he - whispered. “Climb into them, stranger.” Once more the launch - backed out in the bay, where Webster's <i>protégé</i> dressed at his - leisure, and Billy handed Don Juan a couple of pesos. - </p> - <p> - “Remember, John,” he cautioned the bibulous one as they tied - up for the night, “nothing unusual happened to-night.” - </p> - <p> - “Divil a thing, Misther Geary. Thank you, sor,” the Gaelic - wreck replied blithely and disappeared in the darkness, leaving Billy to - guide the stranger to El Buen Amigo, where he was taken into the - confidence of Mother Jenks and, on Billy's guarantee of the board - bill, furnished with a room and left to his own devices. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <p> - John Stuart Webster came down the gangplank into Leber's launch hard - on the heels of the port doctor. - </p> - <p> - “You young horse-thief,” he cried affectionately. “I - believe it's the custom down this way for men to kiss each other. We'll - dispense with that, but by——” He folded Billy in a - paternal embrace, then held him at arm's length and looked him over. - </p> - <p> - “Lord, son,” he said, “you're as thin as a snake. - I'll have to feed you up.” - </p> - <p> - As they sped toward the landing, he looked Billy over once more. “I - have it,” he declared. “You need a change of climate to get - rid of that malaria. Just show me this little old mining claim of yours, - Bill, and then hike for God's country. Three months up there will - put you right again, and by the time you get back, we'll be about - ready to weigh the first cleanup.” - </p> - <p> - Billy shook his head. “I'd like to mighty well, Jack,” - he replied, “but I just can't.” - </p> - <p> - “Huh! I suppose you don't think I'm equal to the task of - straightening out this concession of yours and making a hummer out of it, - eh?” - </p> - <p> - The young fellow looked across at him sheepishly. “Mine?” he - jeered. “Who's talking about a mine. I'm thinking of a - girl!” - </p> - <p> - “Oh!” - </p> - <p> - “Some girl, Johnny.” - </p> - <p> - “I hope she's not some parrakeet,” Webster bantered. - “Have you looked up her pedigree?” - </p> - <p> - “Ah-h-h!” Billy spat over the side in sheer disgust. “This - is an American girl—born here, but white—raised in the U. S. - A. I've only known her three weeks, but—ah!” And Billy - kissed his hand into space. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I'm glad I find you so happy, boy. I suppose you're - going to let your old Jack-partner give her the once-over and render his - report before you make the fatal leap—eh?” - </p> - <p> - “Sure! I want you to meet her. I've been telling her all about - you, and she's crazy to meet you.” - </p> - <p> - “Good news! I had a good friend once—twice—three times—and - lost him every time. Wives get so suspicious of their husband's - single friends, you know, so Ï hope I make a hit with your heart's - desire, Billy. When do you pull off the wedding?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh,” said Billy, “that's premature, Jack. I haven't - asked her. How could I until I'm able to support her?” - </p> - <p> - “Look here, son,” Webster replied, “don't you go - to work and be the kind of fool I was. You get married and take a chance. - If you do, you'll have a son sprouting into manhood when you're - as old as I. A man ought to marry young, Bill. Hang the odds. I know what's - good for you.” - </p> - <p> - At the hotel, while Webster shaved and arrayed himself in an immaculate - white duck suit, with a broad black silk belt, buck shoes, and a Panama - hat. Billy sent a note to Dolores, apprising her that John Stuart Webster - had arrived—and would she be good enough to receive them? - </p> - <p> - Miss Ruey would be that gracious. She was waiting for them in the veranda - just off the <i>patio</i>, outwardly calm, but inwardly a foment of - conflicting emotions. As they approached she affected not to see them and - turning, glanced in the opposite direction; nor did she move her head - until Billy's voice, speaking at her elbow, said: - </p> - <p> - “Well, Dolores, here's my old Jack-partner waiting to be - introduced. Jack, permit me to present Miss Dolores Ruey.” - </p> - <p> - She turned her face and rose graciously, marking with secret triumph the - light of recognition that; leaped to his eyes, hovered there the hundredth - part of a second and departed, leaving those keen, quizzical blue orbs - appraising her in the most natural manner imaginable. Webster bowed. . - </p> - <p> - “It is a great happiness to meet you, Miss Ruey,” he said - gravely. - </p> - <p> - Dolores gave him her hand. “You have doubtless forgotten, Mr. - Webster, but I think we have met before.” - </p> - <p> - “Indeed!” John Stuart Webster murmured interestedly. “So - stupid of me not to remember. Where did we meet?” - </p> - <p> - “He has a profound sense of humour,” she soliloquized. “He's - going to force me into the open. Oh, dear, I'm helpless.” - Aloud she said: “On the train in Death Valley last month, Mr. - Webster. You came aboard with whiskers.” - </p> - <p> - Webster shook his head slowly, as if mystified. “I fear you're - mistaken, Miss Ruey. I cannot recall the meeting, and if I ever wore - whiskers, no human being would ever be able to recognize me without them. - Besides, I wasn't on the train in Death Valley last month. I was in - Denver—so you must have met some other Mr. Webster.” - </p> - <p> - She flushed furiously. “I didn't think I could be mistaken,” - she answered a trifle coldly. - </p> - <p> - “It is my misfortune that you were,” he replied graciously. - “Certainly, had we met at that time, I should not have failed to - recognize you now. Somehow, Miss Ruey, I never have any luck.” - </p> - <p> - She was completely outgeneralled, and having the good sense to realize it, - submitted gracefully. “He's perfectly horrible,” she - told herself, “but at least he can lie like a gentleman—and I - always did like that kind of man.” - </p> - <p> - So they chatted on the veranda until luncheon was announced and Dolores - left them to go to her room. - </p> - <p> - “Well?” Billy queried the moment she was out of earshot. - “What do you think, Johnny?” - </p> - <p> - “I think,” said John Stuart Webster slowly, “that you're - a good picker, Bill. She's my ideal of a fine young woman, and my - advice to you is to marry her. I'll grub-stake you. Bill, this stiff - collar is choking me; I wish you'd wait here while I go to my room - and rustle up a soft one.” - </p> - <p> - In the privacy of his room John Stuart Webster sat down on his bed and - held his head in his hands, for he had just received a blow in the solar - plexus and was still groggy; there was an ache in his head, and the - quizzical light had faded from his eyes. Presently, however, he pulled - himself together and approaching the mirror looked long at his - weather-beaten countenance. - </p> - <p> - “Too old,” he murmured, “too old to be dreaming dreams.” - </p> - <p> - He changed to a soft collar, and when he descended to the <i>patio</i> to - join Billy once more he was, to all outward appearances, his usual - unperturbed self, for his was one of those rare natures that can derive a - certain comfort from the misery of self-sacrifice—and in that five - minutes alone in his room John Stuart Webster had wrestled with the - tragedy of his life and won. - </p> - <p> - He had resolved to give Billy the right of way on the highway to - happiness. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XV - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">L</span>ATE in the - afternoon of the day of his arrival in Buenaventura, in the cool recess of - the deep veranda flanking the western side of the <i>patio</i> of the - Hotel Mateo, John Stuart Webster sat in a wicker chair, cigar in mouth, - elbows on knees, hands clasping a light Malacca stick, with the end of - which he jabbed meditatively at a crack in the recently sprinkled tiled - floor, as if punctuating each bitter thought that chased its predecessor - through his somewhat numbed brain. - </p> - <p> - In Mr. Webster's own whimsical phraseology, his clock had been - fixed, on the instant he recognized in the object of his youthful partner's - adoration the same winsome woman he had enthroned in his own secret castle - of love. From that precise second Billy's preserve was as safe from - encroachment by his friend as would be a bale of Confederate currency in - an armour-steel vault on the three-thousand-foot level of a water-filled - mine. Unfortunately for Webster, however, while he knew himself fairly - well, he was not aware of this at the time. Viewed in the light of calmer - reflection, Mr. Webster was quite certain he had made a star-spangled - monkey of himself. - </p> - <p> - He sought solace now in the fact that there had been mitigating - circumstances. Throughout the entire journey from the steamer to the - hotel, Billy had not once mentioned in its entirety the name of his adored - one. In any Spanish-American country the name Dolores is not so uncommon - as to excite suspicion; and Webster who had seen the mercurial William in - and out of many a desperate love affair in the latter's brittle - teens and early twenties, attached so little importance to this latest - outbreak of the old disease that it did not occur to him to cross-examine - Billy, after eliciting the information that the young man had not lost his - heart to a local belle. - </p> - <p> - The knowledge that Billy's inamorata was an American girl served to - clear what threatened to be a dark atmosphere, and so Webster promptly had - dismissed the subject. - </p> - <p> - Any psychologist will tell one that it is quite possible for a person to - dream, in the short space of a split second, of events which, if really - consummated, would involve the passage of days, weeks, months, or even - years! Now, Jack Webster was an extra fast thinker, asleep or awake, and - in his mind's eye, as he sat there in the <i>patio</i>, he had a - dreadful vision of himself with a delicate spray of lilies of the valley - in the lapel of his dress coat, as he supported the malarial Billy to the - altar, there to receive the promise of Dolores to love, honour, and obey - until death them did part. As the said Billy's dearest friend and - business associate—as the only logical single man available—the - job was Webster's without a struggle. <i>Diablo!</i> Why did people - persist in referring to such runners-up in the matrimonial handicap as <i>best</i> - men, when at the very least calculation the groom was the winner? - </p> - <p> - That wedding party was the very least of the future events Mr. Webster's - hectic imagination conjured up. In the course of time (he reflected), a - baby would doubtless arrive to bless the Geary household. Godfather? John - Stuart Webster, of course. And when the fruit of that happy union should - be old enough to “ride horsey,” who but the family friend - would be required to get down on all fours and accommodate the unconscious - tyrant? Boy or girl, it would make no difference; whichever way the cat - jumped, he would be known as Uncle Jack; Billy would drag him up to the - house once or twice a week, and he would go for the sake of the baby; then - they would make him stay all night, and Mrs. Billy would sigh and try to - smile when she detected cigarette ashes on the chiffonier in the spare - bedroom—infallible sign that there was a bachelor about. Besides, - happily married women have a mania for marrying off their husband's - bachelor friends, and Mrs. Billy might scout up a wife for him—a - wife he didn't want—and——No, he would <i>not</i> - be the family friend. Nobody should ever Uncle Jack him if he could help - it, and the only way to avoid the honour would be to eschew the job of - best man, to resolve, in the very beginning of things, to beware of - entangling friendships. Thus, as in a glass darkly, John Stuart Webster, - in one illuminating moment, saw his future, together with his sole avenue - of escape. - </p> - <p> - All too forcibly Webster realized that Billy's bally-hooing must - have created a favourable impression in Dolores's mind prior to the - arrival of the victim; hence it seemed reasonable to presume that when she - discovered in Billy Geary's Jack Webster her own soiled, ragged, - bewhiskered, belligerent, battered knight, Sir John Stuart Webster of - Death Valley, California, U. S. A., extreme measures would have to be - taken instantly to save the said Webster from being spattered with a dear - old friendship in the future—and a dear old friendship with Dolores - Ruey was something he did not want, had never figured on, and shuddered at - accepting. All things considered, it had appeared wise to him to - challenge, politely but firmly, her suggestion that they had met. - </p> - <p> - Of course, Webster had not really thought all this at the time; he had - felt it and acted entirely upon instinct. A little private cogitation, - however, had served to straighten out his thinking apparatus and-convince - him that he had acted hastily—wherefore he would (a still, small - voice whispered) repent at leisure. Dolores had not pressed the question - (he was grateful to her for that), and for as long as five minutes he had - congratulated himself on his success in “putting it over” on - her. Then he had caught her scrutinizing the knuckles of his right hand; - following her glance, he had seen that the crests of two knuckles were - slightly bluish and tender, as new skin has a habit of showing on tanned - knuckles. With a sinking heart he had recalled how painfully and deeply he - had lacerated those knuckles less than a month before on the strong white - teeth of a fat male masher, and while the last ugly shred of evidence had - dropped off a week before, nevertheless to the critical and discerning eye - there was still faint testimony of that fateful joust—just - sufficient to convict! - </p> - <p> - He had glanced at her swiftly; she had caught the glance and replied to it - with the faintest possible gleam of mischievous challenge in her glorious - brown orbs; whereupon John Stuart Webster had immediately done what every - honest male biped has been doing since Adam told his first lie to Eve—blushed, - and had drawn a little taunting smile for his pains. - </p> - <p> - As Solomon once remarked, the wicked flee when no man pursueth; and that - smile had scarcely faded before John Stuart Webster had unanimously - resolved upon the course he should have pursued in the first place. He - would investigate Billy's mining concession immediately; provided it - should prove worth while, he would finance it and put the property on a - paying basis; after which he would see to it that the very best doctors in - the city of Buenaventura should inform Billy, unofficially and in the - strictest confidence, that if he desired to preserve the life of Senor - Juan Webstaire, he should forthwith pack that rapidly disintegrating - person off to a more salubrious climate. - </p> - <p> - Having made his decision, John Stuart Webster immediately took heart of - hope and decided to lead trumps. He leaned over and slapped Billy Geary's - knee affectionately. - </p> - <p> - “Well, Bill, you saffron-coloured old wreck, how long do you suppose - it will take for you to pick up enough strength and courage to do some - active mining? You're looking like food shot from guns.” - </p> - <p> - “Billy needs a vacation and a change of climate,” Dolores - declared with that motherly conviction all womankind feels toward a sick - man. - </p> - <p> - “So I do, Dolores,” Billy replied. “And I'm going - to take it. Up there in the hills back of San Miguel de Padua, the - ubiquitous mosquito is not, the climate is almost temperate—and - 'tis there that I would be.” - </p> - <p> - “You can't start too soon to please me, Billy,” Webster - declared. “I'm anxious to get that property on a paying basis, - so I can get out of the country.” - </p> - <p> - “Why, Johnny,” the amazed Billy declared, “I thought you - would stay and help run the mine.” - </p> - <p> - “Indeed! Well, why do you suppose I spent so much time teaching you - how to run a mine, you young idiot, if not against just such a time as - this? You found this concession and tied it up; I'll finance it and - help you get everything started; but after that, I'm through, and - you can manage it on salary and name the salary yourself. You have a - greater interest in this country than I, William; and so with your kind - permission we'll hike up to that concession tomorrow and give it the - double-O; then, if I can O. K. the property, we'll cable for the - machinery I ordered just before I left Denver, and get busy. We ought to - have our first clean-up within ninety days. What kind of labour have you - in this country? Anything worth while? If not, we'll have to import - some white men that can do things.” - </p> - <p> - “Gosh, but you're in a hurry,” Billy murmured. He had - been long enough in Sobrante to have acquired a touch of the <i>manana</i> - spirit of the lowlands, and he disliked exceedingly the thought of having - his courtship interrupted on a minute's notice. - </p> - <p> - “You know me, son. I'm a hustler on the job,” Webster - reminded him brutally; “so the sooner you start, the sooner you can - get back and accumulate more malaria. What accommodations have you up - there?” - </p> - <p> - “None, Jack.” - </p> - <p> - “Then you had better get some, Billy. I think you told me we have to - take horses at San Miguel de Padua to ride in to the mine.” Billy - nodded. “Then you had better buy a tent and bedding for both of us, - ship the stuff up to San Miguel de Padua, go up with it and engage horses, - a good cook, and a couple of reliable <i>mozos</i>. When you have - everything ready, telegraph me and I'll come up.” - </p> - <p> - “Why can't you come up with me?” Billy demanded. - </p> - <p> - “I have to see a man, and write some letters and send a cablegram - and wait for an answer. I may have to loaf around here for two or three - days. By the way, what did you do for that friend I sent to letter of - introduction?” - </p> - <p> - “Exactly what you told me to do, Johnny” - </p> - <p> - “Where is he now?” - </p> - <p> - “At El Buen Amigo—the same place where I'm living.” - </p> - <p> - “All right. We'll not discuss business any more, because we - have finished with the business in hand—at least I have, Billy. When - you get back to your hostelry, you might tell my friend I shall expect him - over to dine with me this evening, if he can manage it.” - </p> - <p> - For an hour they discussed various subjects; then Billy, declaring the - siesta was almost over and the shops reopening as a consequence, announced - his intention of doing his shopping, said good-bye to Dolores and Webster, - and lugubriously departed on the business in hand. - </p> - <p> - “Why are you in such a hurry, Mr. Webster?” Dolores demanded. - “You haven't been in Buenaventura six hours until you've - managed to make me perfectly miserable.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to.” - </p> - <p> - “Didn't you know Billy Geary is my personal property?” - </p> - <p> - “No, but I suspected he might be. Bill's generous that way. He - never hesitates to give himself to a charming woman.” - </p> - <p> - “This was a case of mutual self-defense. Billy hasn't any - standing socially, you know. I believe he has been seen shooting craps—isn't - that what you call it?—with gentlemen of more or less colour; then - he appeared in public with me, minus a chaperon—” - </p> - <p> - “Fooey!” - </p> - <p> - “Likewise fiddlesticks! I should have had the <i>entrée</i> to the - society of my father's old friends but for that; when old Mrs. - General Maldonado lectured me (the dear, aristocratic soul conceived it to - be her duty) on the impropriety of appearing on the Male-con with Billy - and my guardian, who happens to be Billy's landlady, I tried to - explain our American brand of democracy, but failed. So I haven't - been invited anywhere since, and life would have been very dull without - Billy. He has been a dear—and you have taken him away.” - </p> - <p> - Webster laughed. “Well, be patient, Miss Ruey, and I'll give - him back to you with considerably more money than he will require for your - joint comfort. Billy in financial distress is a joy forever, but Billy in - a top hat and a frock coat on the sunny side of Easy Street will be - absolutely irresistible.” - </p> - <p> - “He's a darling. Ever since my arrival he has dedicated his - life to keeping me amused.” She rose. “Despite your - wickedness, Mr. Webster, I am going to be good to you. Billy and I always - have five o'clock tea here in the veranda. Would you care to come to - my tea-party?” - </p> - <p> - “Nothing could give me greater pleasure,” he assured her. - </p> - <p> - She nodded brightly to him. “I'm going to run up to my room - and put some powder on my nose,” she explained. - </p> - <p> - “But you'll return before five o'clock?” Webster - was amazed to hear himself plead. - </p> - <p> - “You do not deserve such consideration, but I'll come back in - about twenty minutes,” she answered and left him in the spot where - we find him at the opening of this chapter, in pensive mood, jabbing his - Malacca stick into a crack in the tiled floor. - </p> - <p> - Presently Webster shuddered. “Good heavens,” he soliloquized, - “what a jackass-play I made when I declined to admit we had met - before. What harm could I have accomplished by admitting it? I must be - getting old, because I'm getting cowardly. I'm afraid of - myself! When I met that girl last month, it was in a region that God - forgot—and I was a human caterpillar, which a caterpillar is a - hairy, lowly, unlovely thing that crawls until it is metamorphosed into a - butterfly and flies. Following out the simile, I am now a human butterfly, - not recognizable as the caterpillar to one woman out of ten million; yet - she pegs me out at first. Gad, but she's a remarkable girl! And now - I'm in for it. I've aroused her curiosity; and being a woman, - she will not rest until she has fathomed the reason back of my - extraordinary conduct. I think I'm going to be smeared with - confusion. A spineless man like you, Johnny Webster, stands as much show - in a battle of wits with that woman as a one-legged white man at a coon - cakewalk. I'm afraid of her, and I'm afraid of myself. I'm - glad I'm going up to the mine. I'll go as quickly as I can, - and stay as long as I can.” - </p> - <p> - As Webster viewed the situation, his decision to see as little as possible - of Dolores during his brief stay in Sobrante was a wise one. The less he - saw of her (he told himself), the better for his peace of mind, for he was - forty years old, and he had never loved before. For him this fever that - burned in his blood, this delicious agony that throbbed in his heart—and - all on the very ghost of provocation—were so many danger-signals, - heralds of that grand passion which, coming to a man of forty, generally - lasts him the remainder of his natural existence. - </p> - <p> - “This certainly beats the Dutch!” he murmured, and beyond the - peradventure of a doubt, it did. He reflected that all of his life the - impulses of his generous nature had been his undoing. In an excess of - paternalism he had advised Billy to marry the girl and not permit himself - to develop into a homeless, childless, loveless man such as Exhibit A, - there present; following his natural inclination to play any game,' - red or black, he had urged Billy to marry the girl immediately and had - generously offered a liberal subsidy to make the marriage possible, for he - disliked any interference in his plans to make those he loved happy. And - now—— - </p> - <p> - Webster was forced to admit he was afraid of himself. His was the rapidly - disappearing code of the old unfettered West, that a man shall never - betray his friend in thought, word, or deed. To John Stuart Webster any - crime against friendship was the most heinous in all the calendar of human - frailty; even to dream of slipping into Billy's shoes now would be - monstrous; yet Webster knew he could not afford a test of strength between - his ancient friendship for Billy and his masculine desire for a perfect - mate. Remained then but one course: - </p> - <p> - “I must run like a road-runner,” was the way Webster expressed - it. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XVI - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">D</span>OLORES had been - gone an hour before Webster roused from his bitter introspection - sufficiently to glance at his watch. “Hum-m-m!” he grunted - disapprovingly. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I've been here fully half an hour,” Dolores's - voice assured him. He turned guiltily and found her leaning against the - jamb in a doorway behind him and farther down the veranda. She was gazing - at him with that calm, impersonal yet vitally interested glance that had - so captivated him the first time he saw her. - </p> - <p> - “Well, then”—bluntly—“why didn't you - say so?” - </p> - <p> - “The surest way to get oneself disliked is to intrude on the moods - of one's friends. Moreover, I wanted to study you in repose. Are you - quite finished talking to yourself and fighting imaginary enemies? If so, - you might talk to me for a change; I'll even disagree with you on - any subject, if opposition will make you any happier.” - </p> - <p> - He rose and indicated the chair. “Please sit down, Miss Ruey. You - are altogether disconcerting—too confoundedly smart. I fear I'm - going to be afraid of you until I know you better.” - </p> - <p> - She shrugged adorably and took the proffered chair. “That's - the Latin in her—that shrug,” Webster thought. “I wonder - what other mixtures go to make up that perfect whole.” - </p> - <p> - Aloud he said: “So you wanted to study me in repose? Why waste your - time? I am never in repose.” - </p> - <p> - “Feminine curiosity, Mr. Webster. Billy has talked so much of you - that I wanted to see if you measured up to the specifications.” - </p> - <p> - “I don't mind your looking at me, Miss Ruey, but I get fidgety - when you look through me.” He was glad he said that, because it made - her laugh—more immoderately, Webster thought, than the circumstances - demanded. Nevertheless he had an insane desire to make her laugh like that - again, to watch her mobile features run the gamut from sweet, nunlike - repose to mirthful riot. - </p> - <p> - “I can't help it—really,” she protested. “You're - so transparent.” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Webster reflected that doubtless she was right. Men in his fix - generally were pitifully obvious. Nevertheless he was nettled. “Oh, - I'm not so sure of that. I was just accusing myself of being a - bonehead, and bone is opaque.” - </p> - <p> - “Perhaps I have an X-ray eye,” she replied demurely. “However, - just to show you how easy you are to read, I'll not look at your - silly head. Just let me have your hand, and I'll tell you all about - yourself.” - </p> - <p> - “Is there any charge?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, a nominal one. However, I guarantee a truthful reading; if, - when I am through, you are not wholly satisfied, you do not have to pay - the price. Is that a satisfactory arrangement?” - </p> - <p> - “Right as a fox,” he declared, and held out his great - calloused hand. He thrilled as she took it in both of hers, so soft and - beautiful, and flattened it out, palm upward, on her knee. “A fine, - large, useful hand,” she commented musingly. “The callouses - indicate recent hard manual toil with a pick land shovel; despite your - recent efforts with soap and brush and pumice-stone, there still remain - evidences of some foreign matter ingrained in those callous spots. While, - of course, I cannot be certain of my diagnosis without a magnifying glass, - I venture the conjecture that it is a mineral substance, and your hands - are so tanned one can readily see you have been working in the sun—in - a very hot sun, as a matter of fact. Inasmuch as the hottest sun I ever - felt was in Death Valley, as I crossed it on the train last month, your - hand tells me you have been there. - </p> - <p> - “The general structure of the hand indicates that you are of a - peace-loving disposition, but are far from being a peace-at-any-price - advocate.” She flipped his hand over suddenly. “Ah, the - knuckles confirm that last statement. They tell me you will fight on - provocation; while your fingers are still stiff and thick from your recent - severe labours, nevertheless they indicate an artistic nature, from which - I deduce that upon the occasion when you were in conflict last your - opponent received a most artistic thrashing.” - </p> - <p> - Webster twitched nervously. “Skip the coarse side of my nature,” - he pleaded, “and tell me something nice about myself.” - </p> - <p> - “I am coming to that. This line indicates that you are very brave, - gentle, and courteous. You are quick and firm in your decisions, but not - always right, because your actions are governed by your heart instead of - your head. Once you have made a decision, you are reckless of the - consequences. Your lifeline tells me you are close to fifty-three years of - age——” - </p> - <p> - “Seeress, you're shooting high and to the right,” he - interrupted, for he did not relish that jab about his age. “I'll - have you know I was forty years old last month, and that I can still do a - hundred yards in twelve seconds flat—in my working clothes.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, don't feel peeved about it, Mr. Webster. I am not - infallible; the best you can hope for from me is a high percentage of - hits, even if I did shoot high and to the right that time. In point of - worldly experience you're a hundred and six years old but I lopped - off fifty per cent, to be on the safe side. To continue: You are of an - extremely chivalrous nature—particularly toward young ladies - travelling without chaperons; you are kind, affectionate, generous to a - fault, something of a spendthrift. You will always be a millionaire or a - pauper, never anything between—at least for any great length of - time.” - </p> - <p> - “You've been talking to that callow Bill Geary.” Mr. - Webster's face was so red he was sensible of a distinct feeling of - relief that she kept her face bent over his hand. - </p> - <p> - “I haven't. He's been talking to me. One may safely - depend upon you to do the unexpected. Your matrimonial line is unbroken, - proving you have never married, although right here the line is somewhat - dim and frayed.” She looked up at him suddenly. “You haven't - been in love, have you?” she queried with childlike insouciance. - “In love—and disappointed?” - </p> - <p> - He nodded, for he could not trust himself to speak. - </p> - <p> - “How sad!” she cooed sympathetically. “Did she marry - another, or did she die?” - </p> - <p> - “She—she—yes, she died.” - </p> - <p> - “Cauliflower-tongue, in all probability, carried her off, poor - thing! However, to your fortune: You are naturally truthful and would not - make a deliberate misstatement of fact unless you had a very potent reason - for it. You are sensitive to ridicule; it irks you to be teased, - particularly by a woman, although you would boil in oil rather than admit - it. You never ask impertinent questions, and you dislike those who do; you - are not inquisitive; you never question other people's motives - unless they appear to have a distinct bearing on your happiness or - prosperity; you resent it when anybody questions your motives, and anybody - who knows your nature will not question them. However, you have a strong - sense of sportsmanship, and when fairly defeated, whether in a battle of - fists or a battle of wits, you never hold a grudge, which is one of the - very nicest characteristics a man can have——” - </p> - <p> - “Or a woman,” he suggested feebly. - </p> - <p> - “Quite right. Few woman have a sense of sportsmanship.” - </p> - <p> - “You have.” - </p> - <p> - “How do you know?” - </p> - <p> - “The witness declines to answer, on the ground that he might - incriminate himself; also I object to the question because it is - irrelevant, immaterial, and not cross-examination.” - </p> - <p> - “Accepted. You stand a very good chance of becoming a millionaire in - Sobrante, but you must beware of a dark man who has crossed your path——” - </p> - <p> - “Which one?” Webster queried mirthfully. “All coons look - alike to me—Greasers also.” - </p> - <p> - “Mere patter of our profession, Mr. Webster,” she admitted, - “tossed in to build up the mystery element and simulate wisdom. - Fortune awaited you in the United States, but you put it behind you, at - the call of friendship, for a fortune in Sobrante. Now you have - reconsidered that foolish action and at this moment you are contemplating - sending a cablegram to a fat old man who waddles when he walks, recalling - your decision not to accept a certain proposition of a business nature. - However, you are too late. The fat old man with the waddle has made other - arrangements, and if you want to make money, you'll remain in - Sobrante. I think that is all, Mr. Webster.” He was gazing at her - with an expression composed of equal parts of awe, amazement, - consternation, adoration, and blank stupidity. - </p> - <p> - “Well,” she queried innocently, “to quote Billy's - colloquial style: did I put it over?” - </p> - <p> - “You did very well for an amateur, but I'm a doubting Thomas. - I have to poke my finger into the wound, so to speak, before I'll - believe. About this fat old man who waddles when he walks: a really - topnotch palmist could tell me his name.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I'm only an amateur, but still I think I might, to - quote Billy again, make a stab at it. A little while ago you said I had a - strong sense of sportsmanship. Do you care to bet me about ten dollars I - cannot give you the fat party's initials—all three of them?” - </p> - <p> - He gazed at her owlishly. She was the most perfectly amazing girl he had - ever met; he was certain she would win the ten dollars from him, but then - it was worth ten dollars to know for a certainty whether she was perfect - or possessed of a slight flaw; so he silently drew forth a wallet that - would have choked a cow and skinned off a ten-dollar gold certificate of - the United States of America. - </p> - <p> - “I'm game,” he mumbled. “To quote Billy again: - 'Put up or shut up.'” - </p> - <p> - “The fat gentleman's initials are E. P. J.” - </p> - <p> - “By the twelve apostles, Peter, Simon——” - </p> - <p> - “Don't blaspheme, Mr. Webster.” - </p> - <p> - He stood up and shook himself. “When you order the tea,” he - said very distinctly, “please have mine cold. I need a bracer after - that. Take the ten. You've won it.” - </p> - <p> - “Thanks ever so much,” she answered in a matter-of-fact tone - and tucked the bill inside of her shirtwaist. “I am a very poor - woman and—'Every little bit added to what you've got - makes just a little bit more,'” she carolled, swaying her - lithe, beautiful body and snapping her fingers like a cabaret dancer. - </p> - <p> - He could have groaned with the futility of his overwhelming desire for - her; it even occurred to him what a shame it was to waste a marvel like - her on a callow young pup like Billy, who had fought so many deadly - skirmishes with Dan Cupid that a post-impressionistic painting of the - Geary heart must resemble a pincushion. Then he remembered that this was - an ungenerous, a traitorous thought, and that he had not paid the lady her - fee. - </p> - <p> - “Well, what's the tariff?” he asked. - </p> - <p> - “You really feel that I have earned a professional's fee?” - </p> - <p> - “Beyond a doubt.” - </p> - <p> - She stood a moment gazing thoughtfully down at the tip of her little toe, - struggling to be quite cool and collected in the knowledge that she was - about to do a daring, almost a brazen thing—wondering with a queer, - panicky little fluttering of her heart if <i>he</i> would think any the - less of her for it. - </p> - <p> - “Well—I—that is——” - </p> - <p> - “The cauliflower ear is not unknown among pugilists in our own dear - native land, but the cauliflower tongue appears to blossom exclusively in - Sobrante,” he suggested wickedly. - </p> - <p> - She bit her lips to repress a smile. “Since you have taken Billy - away from me this evening, I shall make you take Billy's place this - evening. After dinner you shall hire an open victoria with two little - white horses and drive me around the Malecon. There is a band concert - to-night.” - </p> - <p> - “If it's the last act of my wicked life!” he promised - fervently. Strange to relate, in that ecstatic moment no thought of Billy - Geary marred the perfect serenity of what promised to be the most - perfectly serene night in history. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XVII - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HEY were seated at - the tiny tea table when the sound of feet crunching the little shell-paved - path through the <i>patio</i> caused Webster and Dolores to turn their - heads simultaneously. Coming toward them was an individual who wore upon a - head of flaming red a disreputable, conical-crowned straw sombrero; a - soiled cotton camisa with the tails flowing free of his equally soiled - khaki trousers, and sandals of the kind known as <i>alpargates</i>—made - from the tough fibre of a plant of the cactus family and worn only by the - very lowliest peons—completed his singular attire. - </p> - <p> - “Hello!” Webster murmured whimsically. “Look who's - here!” - </p> - <p> - “One of Billy's friends and another reason why he has no - social standing,” Dolores whispered. “I believe he's - going to speak to us.” - </p> - <p> - Such evidently appeared to be the man's intention. He came to the - edge of the veranda, swept his ruin of a hat from his red head and bowed - with Castilian expansiveness. - </p> - <p> - “Yer pardon, Miss, for appearin' before you.” She smiled - her forgiveness to what Webster how perceived to be an alcoholic wreck. He - was about to dismiss the fellow with scant ceremony, when Dolores, with - that rich sense of almost masculine humour—a humour that was - distinctly American—said sweetly: - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Webster, shake hands with Don Juan Cafetéro, <i>bon vivant</i> - and man about town. Don Juan, permit me to present Mr. Webster, from - somewhere in the United States. Mr. Webster is a mining partner of our - mutual friend Mr. William Geary.” - </p> - <p> - A long, sad descent into the Pit had, however, imbued Don Juan with a - sense of his degradation; he was in the presence of a superior, and he - acknowledged the introduction with a respectful inclination of his head. - </p> - <p> - “'Tis you I've called to see, Misther Webster, sor,” - he explained. - </p> - <p> - “Very well, old-timer. In what way can I be of service to you?” - </p> - <p> - “'Tis the other way around, sor, if ye plaze, an' for - that same there's no charrge, seein' ye're the partner, - av that fine, kind gintleman, Misther Geary Sure 'tis he that's - the free-handed lad wit' his money whin he has it, God bless him, an' - may the heavens be his bed, although be the same token I can see wit' - the half av an eye that 'tis yerself thinks nothin' av a - dollar, or five, for that matther. However, sor, that's neither here - nor there. Did ye, whilst in New Orleans, have d'alings wit' a - short, shtout spiggoty wit' a puckered scar undher his right eye?” - </p> - <p> - John Stuart Webster suddenly sat up straight and gazed upon the lost son - of Erin with grave interest. “Yes,” he replied, “I seem - to recall such a man.” - </p> - <p> - “Only another proof of my ability as a palmist,” Dolores - struck in. “Remember, Mr. Webster, I warned you to beware of a dark - man that had crossed your path.” - </p> - <p> - “An' well he may, Miss—well he may,” Don Juan - agreed gloomily. “'Tis none av me business, sor, but would ye - mind tellin' me just what ye did to that spiggoty?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, to begin, last Sunday morning I interrupted this pucker-eyed - fellow and a pop-eyed friend of his while engaged in an attempt to - assassinate a white, inoffensive stranger. The following day, at the - gangplank of the steamer, we met again; he poked his nose into my - business, so I squeezed his nose until he cried; right before everybody I - did it, Don Juan, and to add insult to injury, I plucked a few hairs from - his rat's moustache—one hair per each pluck.” - </p> - <p> - “I'd a notion ye did somethin' to him, sor. Now, thin, - listen to me: I'm not much to look at, but I'm white. I'm - an attashay, as ye might say, av Ignatz Leber—him that do have the - import an' export house at the ind av the Calle San Rosario, - forninst the bay. Also he do have charrge av the cable office, an' - whin I'm sober enough, I deliver cable-grains for Leber. Now, thin, - ye'll recall we had a bit av a shower to-day at noon?” - </p> - <p> - Dolores and Webster nodded. Don Juan, after glancing cautiously around, - lowered his voice and continued: “I was deliverin' a cablegram - for Leber, an' me course took me past the palace gate—which, - be the same token, has sinthry-boxes both inside an' out, wan on - each side av the gate. The sinthry was not visible as I came along, an' - what wit' the shower comin' as suddint as that, an' me - wit' a wardrobe that's not so extinsive I can afford to get it - wet, I shtepped into wan av the outside sintry-boxes till the rain should - be over, an' what wit' a dhrink av <i>aguardiente</i> I'd - took to brace me for the thrip, an' the mimory av auld times, I fell - asleep. - </p> - <p> - “Dear knows how long I sat there napping; all I know is that I was - awakened by the sound av three men talkin' at the gate, an' - divil a worrd did they say but what I heard. They were talkin' in - Spanish, but I undhershtood thim well enough. 'He's at the - Hotel Mateo,' says wan voice, 'an' his name is Webster—Jawn - Webster. He's an American, an' a big, savage-lookin' lad - at that, so take, me advice an' be careful. Do ye two keep an eye on - him wherever he goes, an' if he should shtep out at night an' - wandher t'rough a dark shtreet, do ye two see to it that he's - put where he'll not interfere again in Don Felipe's affairs. - No damn' gringo'—beggin' yer pardon, Miss—'can - intherfere in the wurrk av the Intilligince Bureau at a time like this, in - addition to insultin' our honoured chief, wit'out the - necessity av bein' measured for a coffin.' '<i>Si, mi - general.'</i> says another lad, an 'To be sure, <i>mi general</i>,' - says a thirrd; an' wit' that the gineral, bad cess to him, - wint back to the palace an' the other two walked on up the <i>calle</i> - an' away from the sinthry-box.” - </p> - <p> - “Did you come out and follow them?” Webster demanded briskly. - </p> - <p> - “Faith, I did. Wan av them is Francisco Arredondo, a young cavalry - lootinint, an' the other wan is Captain José Benevides, him that do - be the best pistol-shot an' swordsman in the spiggoty army. 'Twas - him that kilt auld Gineral Gonzales in a djuel a month ago.” - </p> - <p> - “What kind of looking man is this Benevides, my friend?” - </p> - <p> - “A tall, thin young man, wit' a dude's moustache an' - a diamond ring on his right hand. He do be whiter nor most. Have a care - would ye meet him around the city an' let him pick a fight wit' - ye. An' have a care, sor, would ye go out av a night.” - </p> - <p> - “Thank you, Don Juan. You're the soul of kindness. What else - do you know?” - </p> - <p> - “Well,” Don Juan replied with a naïve grin, “I did know - somethin' else, but shure, Misther Geary advised me to forget it. I - was wit' him in the launch last night.” - </p> - <p> - Webster stepped out of the veranda and laid a friendly hand on Don Juan - Cafetéro's shoulder. “Don Juan,” he said gently, “I'm - going back to the United States very soon. Would you like to come with me?” - </p> - <p> - Don Juan's watery eyes grew a shade mistier, if possible. He shook - his head. “Whin I'm dhrunk here, sor,” he replied, - “no wan pays any attintion to me, but in America they'd give - me ten days in the hoosgow wanst a week. Thank you, sor, but I'll - shtay here till the finish.” - </p> - <p> - “There axe institutions in America where hopeless inebriates, - self-committed, may be sent for a couple of years. I believe 6 per cent, - are permanently cured. You could be one of the six—and I'd - cheerfully pay for it and give you a good job when you come out.” - </p> - <p> - Don Juan Cafetéro shook his red head hopelessly. He knew the strength of - the Demon and had long since ceased to fight even a rear-guard action. - Webster put a hand under the stubbly chin and tilted Don Juan's head - sharply. “Hold up your head,” he commanded. “You're - the first of your breed I ever saw who would admit he was whipped. Here's - five dollars for you—five dollars gold. Take it and return with the - piece intact to-morrow morning, Don Juan Cafetéro.” - </p> - <p> - Don Juan Cafetéro's wondering glance met Webster's directly, - wavered, sought the ground, but at a jerk on his chin came back and—stayed. - Thus for at least ten seconds they gazed at each other; then Webster - spoke. “Thank you,” he said. - </p> - <p> - “Me name is John J. Cafferty,” the lost one quavered. - </p> - <p> - “Round one for Cafferty,” Webster laughed. “Good-bye - now, until nine tomorrow. I'll expect you here, John, without fail.” - And he took the derelict's hand and wrung it heartily. - </p> - <p> - “Well,” Webster remarked to Dolores as he held out his cup for - more tea, “if I'm not the original Tumble Tom, I hope I may - never see the back of my neck.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you attach any importance to Don Juan's story?” she - asked anxiously. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, but not so much as Don Juan does. However, to be forewarned is - to be forearmed.” He sighed. “I am the innocent bystander,” - he explained, “and I greatly fear I have managed to snarl myself up - in a Sobrantean political intrigue, when I haven't the slightest - interest either way. However, that's only one more reason why I - should finish my work here and get back to Denver.” - </p> - <p> - “But how did all this happen, Mr. Webster?” - </p> - <p> - “Like shooting fish in a dry lake, Miss Ruey,” Webster - replied, and related to her in detail the story of his adventure with the - Sobrantean assassins in Jackson Square and his subsequent meeting with - Andrew Bowers aboard <i>La Estrellita</i>. - </p> - <p> - Dolores laughed long and heartily as Webster finished his humorous - recital. “Oh, you're such a very funny man,” she - declared. “Billy told me God only made one Jack Webster and then - destroyed the mold; I believe Billy is right. But do tell me what became - of this extraordinary and unbidden guest.” - </p> - <p> - “The night the steamer arrived in port, Billy and Don Juan came out - in a launch to say 'Hello,' so I seized upon the opportunity - to tell Andrew to jump overboard and swim to the launch. Gave him a little - note to Billy—carried it in his mouth—instructing Billy to do - the right thing by him—and Billy did it. I don't know what - Andrew is up to and I don't care. Where I was raised we let every - man roll his own hoop. All I hope is that they don't shoot Andrew. - If they do, I fear I'll weep. He's certainly a skookum lad. Do - you know, Miss Ruey, I love anybody that can impose on me—make a - monkey out of me, in fact—and make me like it?” - </p> - <p> - “That's so comforting,” she remarked dryly. Webster - looked at her sharply, suspiciously; her words were susceptible of a dual - interpretation. Her next sentence, however, dissipated this impression. - “Because it confirms what I told you this afternoon when I read your - palm,” she added. - </p> - <p> - “You didn't know how truly you spoke when you referred to the - dark man that had crossed my path. He's uncomfortably real—drat - him!” - </p> - <p> - “Then you are really concerned?” - </p> - <p> - “Not at all, but I purpose sleeping with one eye open. I shan't - permit myself to feel concerned until they send more than two men after me—say - eight or ten. A husky American ought to be willing to give these - spiggoties a pull in the weights.” - </p> - <p> - His indifference appalled her; she leaned forward impulsively and laid a - hand on his forearm. “But you must heed Don Juan's warning,” - she declared seriously. “You must not go out alone at night.” - </p> - <p> - He grinned boyishly. “Of course not, Miss Ruey. You're going - to ride out with me this evening.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm not. Don Juan's report has spoiled all that. I'll - not subject you to risk.” - </p> - <p> - “Very well; then I shall drive out alone.” - </p> - <p> - “You're a despot, Mr. Webster—a regular despot.” - </p> - <p> - “Likewise a free agent.” - </p> - <p> - “I'll go with you.” - </p> - <p> - “I thought so.” - </p> - <p> - “You're—you're——” - </p> - <p> - He rose while she was searching for the right word. “Will you excuse - me until after dinner, Miss Ruey? I'd love to stay and chat with - you, even though it does appear that presently we shall be calling each - other names, but the fact of the matter is—well, I am in a very - serious predicament, and I might as well start right now to prepare to - meet any emergency. For what hour shall I order the carriage?” - </p> - <p> - “Seven-thirty. After all, they'll not dare to murder you on - the Malecon.” - </p> - <p> - “I agree with you. It will have to be done very quietly, if at all. - You've been mighty nice to me this afternoon, seeress; I shall be - grateful right up to the moment of dissolution.” - </p> - <p> - “Speak softly but carry a big stick,” she warned him. - </p> - <p> - “A big gun,” he corrected here, “—two of them, in - fact.” - </p> - <p> - “Sensible man! I'm not going to worry about you, Mr. Webster.” - She nodded her permission for him to retire, and as he walked down the - veranda and into the hotel, her glance followed him with pardonable - feminine curiosity, marking the breadth of his shoulders, the quick, - springy stride, the alert, erect poise of his head on the powerful neck. - </p> - <p> - “A doer of deeds are you, John Stuart Webster,” she almost - whispered. “As Kipling would say: '<i>Wallah!</i> But you are - a man!'” ^ - </p> - <p> - A stealthy footstep sounded below the veranda she turned and beheld Don - Juan Cafetéro, his hat in his left hand, in his right a gold-piece which - he held toward her. - </p> - <p> - “Take it, <i>allanah</i>,” he wheezed in his hoarse, drunkard's - whisper. “Keep it f'r me till to-morrow, for sorra wan av me - can I trust to do that same—an' be the same token I can't - face that big man wit'out it.” - </p> - <p> - “Why not, Don Juan?” - </p> - <p> - He hung his red head. “I dunno, Miss,” he replied miserably. - “Maybe 'tis on account av him—the eye av him—the - way av him—divil such a man did I ever meet—God bless him! - Shure, Misther Geary do be the fine lad, but he—he——” - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Geary never put a big forefinger under your chin and bade you - hold up your head. Is that it?” - </p> - <p> - “'Tis not what he did, Miss, but the way he did it. All the - fiends av hell 'll be at me this night to shpend what he give me—and - I—I'm afraid——” - </p> - <p> - He broke off, mumbling and chattering like a man in the grip of a great - terror. In his agony of body and spirit, Dolores could have wept for Don - Juan Cafetéro, for in that supreme moment the derelict's soul was - bare, revealing something pure and sweet and human, for all his - degradation. How did Jack Webster know? wondered Dolores. And why did he - so confidently give an order to this human flotsam and expect it to be - obeyed? And why did Don Juan Cafetéro come whining to her for strength to - help him obey it? Through the murk of her girlish unsophstication and - scant knowledge of human nature these and other questions obtruded - themselves, the while she gazed down at Don Juan's dirty, quivering - hand that held the coin toward her. And presently the answer came—a - quotation long since learned and forgotten: - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Be noble—and the nobleness that lies in other men, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Sleeping but never dead, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Will rise in majesty to meet thine own. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - “I will not spoil his handiwork,” she told herself, and she - stepped down off the veranda to a position directly in front of Don Juan. - “That wouldn't be playing the game,” she told him. - “I can't help you deceive him. You are the first of your breed——” - </p> - <p> - “Don't say it,” he cried. “Didn't he tell me - wanst?” - </p> - <p> - “Then make the fight, Don—Mr. Cafferty.” She lowered her - voice. “I am depending on you to stay sober and guard him. He needs - a faithful friend so badly, now that Mr. Geary is away.” She patted - the grimy hand and left him staring at the ground. Presently he sighed, - quivered horribly, and shambled out of the <i>patio</i> on to the - firing-line. And when he reported to Jack Webster at nine o'clock - next morning, he was sober, shaking horribly and on the verge of <i>delirium - tremens</i>, but tightly clasped in his right hand he held that - five-dollar piece. Dolores, who had made it her business to be present at - the interview, heard John Stuart Webster say heartily: - </p> - <p> - “The finest thing about a terrible fight, friend Cafferty, is that - if it is a worth-while battle, the spoils of victory are exceedingly - sweet. You are how about to enjoy one fourth of the said spoils—a - large jolt of <i>aguardiente!</i> You must have it to steady your nerves. - Go to the nearest <i>cantina</i> and buy one drink; then come back with - the change. By that time I shall have breakfasted and you and I will then - go shopping. At noon you shall have another drink; at four o'clock - another; and just before retiring you shall have the fourth and last for - this day. Remember, Cafferty: one jolt—no more—and then back - here with the exact change.” - </p> - <p> - As Don Juan scurried for salvation, Webster turned to Dolores. “He'll - fail me now, but that will not be his fault but mine. I've set him - too great a task in his present weakened condition. In the process of - exchanging American gold for the local shin-plasters, he'll skin me - to death and emerge from the transaction with a full quart bottle in - excess of his drink. Nevertheless, to use a colloquial expression, I have - the Cafferty goat—and I'm going to keep it.” - </p> - <p> - Webster went immediately to his room, called for pen and paper, and - proceeded at once to do that which he had never done before—to wit, - prepare his last will and testament. For the first time in his career - death threatened while he had money in his possession, and while he had - before him for performance a task requiring the expenditure of money, his - manifest duty, therefore, was to guarantee the performance of that task, - win, lose, or draw in the game of life; so in a few brief paragraphs John - Stuart Webster made a holographic will and split his bankroll equally - between the two human beings he cared for most—Billy Geary and - Dolores Huey. “Bill's a gambler like me,” he ruminated; - “so I'll play safe. The girl is a conservative, and after Bill's - wad is gone, he'd be boiled in oil before he'd prejudice hers.” - </p> - <p> - Having made his will, Webster made a copy of it. The original he placed in - an envelope, sealed, and marked: “Last Will and Testament of John S. - Webster, of Denver, Colorado, U. S. A. To be delivered to William H. Geary - upon the death of the testator.” The copy he also placed in an - envelope marked: “From Jack. Not to be opened until after my death.” - This envelope he then enclosed in a larger one and mailed to Billy at - Calle de Concordia No. 19. - </p> - <p> - Having made his few simple preparations for death, Mr. Webster next - burrowed in his trunk, brought forth his big army-type automatic pistol - and secured it in a holster under his arm, for he deemed it unwise and - provocative of curiosity to appear in immaculate ducks that bulged at the - right hip. Next he filled two spare clips with cartridges and slipped them - into his pocket, thus completing his few simple preparations for life. - </p> - <p> - He glanced out the window at the sun. There would still be an hour of - daylight; so he descended to the lobby, called a carriage and drove to the - residence of the American consulate. - </p> - <p> - Lemuel Tolliver, formerly proprietor of a small retail wood and coal yard - in Hastings, Nebraska, was the consul. He talked through his nose, - employed double negatives, chewed tobacco, wore celluloid cuffs and - collar, and received Mr. Webster in his shirt sleeves. He was the type of - small-town peanut politician who never forgets for an instant that to be - an American is greater than to be a king, and who strives assiduously to - exhibit his horrible idea of American democracy to all and sundry, to his - own profound satisfaction and the shame of his visiting countrymen. - </p> - <p> - He glanced at the card which Webster had sent in by his clerk. “Well, - sir!” he began briskly. “Delighted to know you, Mr. Webster. - Ain't there nothin' I can do for you?” - </p> - <p> - “Thank you. There is. This is my will. Please put it in your safe - until I or my executor shall call for it.” - </p> - <p> - “What!” boomed the Honourable Tolliver. “You ain't - thinkin' o' dyin', are yuh?” he laughed. - </p> - <p> - “Listen,” Webster urged him, and Mr. Tolliver helped himself - to a fresh bite of chewing-tobacco and inclined his head. Briefly, but - without omitting a single important detail, Webster told the consul of his - adventure in New Orleans with the secret service representative of the - Republic of Sobrante. “And not an hour since,” he concluded, - “I was informed, through a source I consider reliable, that I am in - momentary danger of assassination at the hands of two men whose names I - know.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, don't tell me nothin' about it,” Mr. - Tolliver interrupted. “I'm here on Government affairs, not to - straighten out private quarrels. If you're figurin' on gittin' - killed, my advice to you is to git out o' the country P. D. Q.” - </p> - <p> - “You overlook the fact that I didn't come here for advice, my - dear Mr. Consul,” Webster reminded him with some asperity. “I'm - not at all afraid of getting killed. What is worrying me is the certainty - that I'll get there first with the most guns, and if I should, in - self-defense, be forced to eliminate two Sobrantean army officers, I want - to know what you're going to do to protect me. I want to make an - affidavit that my life is in danger; I want my witness to make a similar - affidavit, and I want to file those affidavits with you, to be adduced as - evidence to support my plea of selfdefense. In other words, I want to have - these affidavits, with the power of the United States back of them, to - spring in case the Sobrantean government tries to railroad me for murder—and - I want you to spring them for me.” - </p> - <p> - “I won't do nothin' o' the kind,” Mr. - Tolliver declared bluntly. “You got plenty o' chance to get - out o' this country an' save international complications. <i>La - Estrellita</i> pulls out to-morrow mornin', an' you pull with - her, or stay an' take your own chances. I ain't prejudicin' - my job by makin' myself <i>nux vomica</i> to the Sobrantean - government—an' that's just what will happen if I mix up - in this private quarrel.” - </p> - <p> - “But, my dear Mr. Consul, I am going into business here—the - mining business. I have every right in this country, and it is your duty - to protect my rights while here. I can't side-step a fight just to - hold you in your job.” - </p> - <p> - “It's a matter outside my jurisdiction,” Mr. Tolliver - declared with such a note of finality in his voice that Webster saw the - uselessness of further argument. - </p> - <p> - “All right,” he replied, holding his temper as best he could. - “I'm glad to know you think so much of your job. I may live - long enough to find an opportunity to kick you out of it and run this - consulate myself. I'll send my affidavits direct to the State - department at Washington; you take orders from Washington, I dare say.” - </p> - <p> - “When I get them. Good day.” - </p> - <p> - John Stuart Webster left the American consulate in a frenzy of - inarticulate rage in the knowledge that he was an American and represented - in Sobrante by such an invertebrate as the Honourable Lemuel Tolliver. At - the Hotel Mateo he dismissed the carriage, climbed the three short steps - to the entrance and was passing through the revolving portal, when from - his rear some one gave the door a violent shove, with the result that the - turnstile partition behind him collided with his back with sufficient - force to throw him against the partition in front. Instantly the door - ceased to pivot, with Webster locked neatly in the triangular space - between the two sections of the revolving door and the jamb. - </p> - <p> - He turned and beheld in the section behind him an officer of the - Sobrantean army. This individual, observing he was under Webster's - scrutiny, scowled and peremptorily motioned to Webster to proceed—which - the latter did, with such violence that the door, continuing to revolve, - caught up with the Sobrantean and subjected him to the same indignity to - which he had subjected Webster. - </p> - <p> - Once free of the door, Webster waited just inside the lobby for the - Sobrantean to conclude his precipitate entrance. When he did, Webster - looked him over with mild curiosity and bowed with great condescension. - “Did any gentleman ever tell the senor that he is an ill-mannered - monkey?” he queried coolly in excellent Spanish. “If not, I - desire to give the senor that information, and to tell him that his size - alone prevents me from giving him a nice little spanking.” - </p> - <p> - “Pig!” the rude one answered hotly. His olive features paled - with anger, he trembled with emotion and seemed undecided what to do—seeing - which Webster grinned at him tantalizingly. That decided him. No - Latin-American, with the exaggerated ego of his race, can bear even a - suspicion of ridicule. The officer walked fiercely toward Webster and - swung his arm toward the latter's face in an effort to land a slap - that was “meant.” - </p> - <p> - Webster merely threw back his head and avoided the blow; his long left arm - shot out and beat down the Sobrantean's guard; then Webster's - right hand closed around the officer's collar. “Come to me, - thou insolent little one,” he crooned, and jerked his assailant - toward him, gathered him up in his arms, carried him, kicking and - screaming with futile rage, out into the <i>patio</i> and soused him in - the fountain. - </p> - <p> - “Now, then, spitfire, that will cool your hot head, I trust,” - he admonished his unhappy victim, and returned to the hotel. At the desk - he paused. - </p> - <p> - “Who was that person I just bathed?” he inquired of the - excited clerk. - </p> - <p> - “Ah, senor, you shall not long be kept in ignorance,” that - functionary informed him. “That is the terrible Captain Benavides——” - </p> - <p> - “Do you know, I had a notion it was he?” Webster replied - ruminatively. “Well, I suppose I'm in for a duel now,” - he added to himself as he climbed the stairs to his room. “I think - that will be most interesting.” - </p> - <p> - John Stuart Webster changed into dry clothing and descended to the dining - room. Miss Ruey was already seated at her table and motioned him to the - seat opposite her, and as he sat down with a contented little sigh, she - gazed at him with a newer and more alert interest. - </p> - <p> - “I hear you've been having adventures again,” she - challenged. “The news is all over the hotel. I heard it from the - head waiter.” - </p> - <p> - “Coffee and pistols for two at daylight,” he answered - cheerily. “Whenever I see trouble coming and realize that I cannot - possibly avoid it, I generally take the bull by the horns, so to speak, - and go forth to meet it. I have discovered from experience that the - surprise of the attack generally disorganizes the other fellow, for few - people care to fight an eager enemy. I see you have sampled the soup. Is - it good?” - </p> - <p> - “Excellent. I marvel that your appetite is so keen, considering the - gloomy outlook.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, there won't be any trouble,” he assured her. - “Duelling is silly, and I wouldn't engage in it on a bet. By - the way, I have made my will, just to be on the safe side. Will you be - good enough to take charge of it until after the funeral? You can turn it - over to Billy then.” - </p> - <p> - She fell readily into the bantering spirit with which he treated this - serious subject. Indeed, it was quite impossible to do otherwise, for John - Stuart Webster's personality radiated such a feeling of security, of - absolute, unbounded confidence in the future and disdain for whatever of - good fortune or ill the future might entail, that Dolores, found it - impossible not to assimilate his mood. - </p> - <p> - At seven-thirty, after a delightful dinner, the memory of which Mr. - Webster was certain would linger under his foretop long after every other - memory had departed, he escorted her to the open carriage he had ordered, - and for two hours they circled the Malecon with the élite of Buenaventura, - listening to the music of the band, and during the brief intermissions, to - the sound of the waves lapping the beach at the foot of the broad - driveway. - </p> - <p> - “This,” said John Stuart Webster, as he said goodnight to - Dolores in the lobby, “is the end of a perfect day.” - </p> - <p> - It wasn't, for at that precise moment a servant handed him a card, - and indicated a young man seated in an adjacent lounging-chair, at the - same time volunteering the information that the visitor had been awaiting - Senor Webster's return for the past hour. - </p> - <p> - Webster glanced at the card and strode over to the young man. “I am - Mr. Webster, sir,” he announced civilly in Spanish. “And you - are Lieutenant Arredondo?” - </p> - <p> - The visitor rose, bowed low and indicated he was that gentleman. “I - have called, Mr. Webster,” he stated in most excellent English, - “in the interest of my friend and comrade, Captain Benavides.” - </p> - <p> - “Ah, yes! The fresh little rooster I ducked in the fountain this - evening. Well, what does the little squirt want now? Another ducking?” - </p> - <p> - Arredondo flushed angrily but remembered the dignity of his mission and - controlled his temper. “Captain Benavides has asked me to express to - you the hope that you, being doubtless a man of honour——” - </p> - <p> - “Stop right there, Lieutenant. There is no doubt about it. I <i>am</i> - a man of honour, and unless you are anxious to be ducked in the fountain, - you will be more careful in your choice of words. Now, then: You are about - to say that, being a man of honour——” - </p> - <p> - “You would accord my friend the satisfaction which one gentleman - never fails to accord another.” - </p> - <p> - “That lets me out, <i>amigo</i>.” Webster laughed. “Benavides - isn't a gentleman. He's a cutthroat, a murdering little - black-and-tan hound. Do I understand he wants me to fight a duel with him?” - </p> - <p> - Lieutenant Arredondo could not trust himself to speak, and so he bowed - profoundly. - </p> - <p> - “Very well, then, Lieutenant,” Webster agreed. “I'll - fight him.” - </p> - <p> - “To-morrow morning at five o'clock.” - </p> - <p> - “Five minutes from now if you say so.” - </p> - <p> - “Captain Benavides will be grateful for your willing spirit, at - least,” the second replied bitterly. “You realize, of course, - Mr. Webster, that as the challenged party, the choice of weapons rests - with you.” - </p> - <p> - “Certainly. I wouldn't have risked a duel if the choice lay - with the other fellow. With your permission, my dear sir, we'll - fight with Mauser rifles at a thousand yards, for the reason that I never - knew a greaser that could hit the broad side of a brewery at any range - over two hundred and fifty yards.” Webster chuckled fiendishly. - </p> - <p> - Lieutenant Arredondo bit his lips in anger and vexation. “I cannot - agree to such an extraordinary duel,” he complained. “Have you - no other choice?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, since a fight at long range doesn't suit you, suppose - we have one at close range. I propose that our seconds handcuff us - together by our left wrists, give each of us a knife and leave us alone in - a room for a couple of minutes.” - </p> - <p> - “My friend, Captain Benavides, sir, is not a butcher,” - Arredondo reminded Mr. Webster acidly. “In such a fight as you - describe, he would be at a great disadvantage.” - </p> - <p> - “You're whistling—he would. I'd swing him around - my head with my left hand and dash his fool brains out.” - </p> - <p> - “It is the custom in Sobrante for gentlemen to fight with rapiers.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, dry up, you sneaking murderer,” Webster exploded. “There - isn't going to be any duel except on my terms—so you might as - well take a straight tip from headquarters and stick to plain - assassination. You and Benavides have been sent out by your superior to - kill me—you got your orders this very afternoon at the entrance to - the government palace—and I'm just not going to be killed. I - don't like the way you part your hair, and I despise a man who uses - cologne and wears his handkerchief up his sleeve; so beat it, boy, while - the going is good.” He pointed toward the hotel door. “Out, - you blackguard!” he roared. “<i>Vaya!</i>” - </p> - <p> - Lieutenant Arredondo rose and with dignified mien started for the door. - Webster followed, and as his visitor reached the portal, a tremendous - kick, well placed, lifted him down to the sidewalk. Shrieking curses, he - fled into the night; and John Stuart Webster, with a satisfied feeling - that something accomplished had earned a night's repose, retired to - his room and his mauve silk pyjamas, and slept the sleep of a healthy, - conscience-free man. It did occur to him that the morrow would almost - certainly bring forth something unpleasant, but that prospect did not - worry him. John Stuart Webster had a religion all his own, and one of the - principal tenets of this faith of his was an experience-born conviction - that to-morrow is always another day. - </p> - <p> - At about the same hour Neddy Jerome, playing solitaire in the Engineers' - Club in Denver, was the recipient of a cablegram which read: - </p> - <p> - <i>If W. cables accepting reply rejecting account job filled otherwise - beans spilled. Implicit obedience spells victory.</i> - </p> - <p> - <i>Henrietta.</i> - </p> - <p> - Neddy Jerome wiped his spectacles, adjusted them on his nose and read this - amazing message once more. “Jumped-up Jehosophat!” he - murmured. “If she hasn't followed that madcap Webster clear to - Buenaventura! If she isn't out in earnest to earn her fee, I'm - an orang-outang! By thunder, that's a smart woman. Evidently she has - Jack winging; he is willing to return and go to work for me, but for - reasons of her own she doesn't want him to win too easy a victory. - Well, I guess she knows her own game better than I do; so I should worry - how she plays it. 'Implicit obedience spells victory.' Victory - means that crazy Webster takes the job I offered him. All right! I'll - be implicitly obedient.” - </p> - <p> - Two hours later Neddy Jerome received another cablegram. It was from John - Stuart Webster and read as follows: - </p> - <p> - Hold job ninety days at latest may be back before. If satisfactory cable. - </p> - <p> - Again Mr. Jerome had recourse to the most powerful expletive at his - command. “Henrietta knew he was going to cable and beat the old - sour-dough to it,” he soliloquized. He was wrapped in profound - admiration of her cunning for as much as five minutes; then he indicted - this reply to his victim: - </p> - <p> - <i>Time, tide and good jobs wait for no man. Sorry. Job already filled by - better man.</i> - </p> - <p> - When John Stuart Webster received that cablegram the following morning, he - cursed bitterly—not because he had lost the best job that had ever - been offered him, but because he had lost through playing a good hand - poorly. He hated himself for his idiocy. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XVIII - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">F</span>OR fully an hour - after retiring John Stuart Webster slept the deep, untroubled sleep of a - healthy, unworried man; then one of the many species of “jigger” - which flourish just north and south of the equator crawled into bed with - him and promptly proceeded to establish its commissary on the inner flank - of the Websterian thigh, where the skin is thin and the blood close to the - surface. As a consequence, Mr. Webster awoke suddenly, obliterated the - intruder and got out of bed for the purpose of anointing the injured spot - with alcohol—which being done, an active search of the bed resulted - in the discovery of three more jiggers and the envelopment of John Stuart - Webster's soul in the fogs of apprehension. Wide awake, he sat on - the edge of the bed, massaging his toes and wondering what he should do - about it. From a contemplation of his own case his mind wandered to - Dolores Ruey. He wondered if the jiggers were picking on her, too—poor - girl! Strange that Billy hadn't warned him against these infernal - insects—probably it was because Billy resided at El Buen Amigo, - where, for some mysterious reason, the jigger was not. - </p> - <p> - “'Tis an evil land, filled with trouble,” he mused as he - lighted a cigarette. “I wish Bill were here to advise me. He's - been long enough in this country to know the lay of the ground and all the - government officials. He ought to be able to straighten this deal out and - assure the higher-ups that I'm not butting in on their political - affairs. But Bill's up-country and here I am under surveillance and - unable to leave the hotel to talk it over with Andrew Bowers, the only - other white expert I know of in town. And by the way, they're after - Andrew, too! I wonder what for.” - </p> - <p> - He smoked two more cigarettes, the while he pondered the various visible - aspects of this dark mess in which he found himself floundering. And - finally he arrived at a decision. He was well assured that his every - movement was being watched and reported upon; doubtless the fact that he - had gone to bed at ten o'clock had already been noted! “These - chaps aren't thorough, though,” Webster decided. “They'll - see me safely to bed and pick me up again in the morning—so I'll - take a chance that the coast is clear, slip out now and talk it over with - Andrew.” - </p> - <p> - He looked at his watch—eleven-thirty. Hurriedly he dressed, strapped - on his automatic pistol, dragged his bed noiselessly to the open window - and tied to the bed-leg the rope he used to lash his trunk; then he - lowered himself out the window. The length of rope permitted him to - descend within a few feet of the ground, and he dropped with a light thud - on to the soft earth of the <i>patio</i>. The thrifty landlord had already - turned out all the electric lights, and the <i>patio</i> was dark. - </p> - <p> - Webster made his way to the street unnoticed, circled the block, found a - policeman seated sound asleep on the curb of the narrow sidewalk, woke him - up and inquired for the Calle de Concordia; and ten minutes later he - appeared before the entrance of El Buen Amigo just as Mother Jenks was - barring it for the night. - </p> - <p> - “I am Mr. Webster,” he announced, “—Mr. Geary's - friend from the United States.” - </p> - <p> - Mother Jenks, having heard of him, was of course profoundly flustered to - meet this toff who so carelessly wired his down-and-out friends <i>pesos - oro</i> in lots of a thousand. Cordially she invited him within to stow a - peg of her best, which invitation Mr. Webster promptly accepted. - </p> - <p> - “To your beautiful eyes,” Webster toasted her. “And now - would you mind leading me to the quarters of Billy's friend Mr. - Bowers?” - </p> - <p> - Mother Jenks looked at him sharply. “Wot's up, sir?” she - asked. - </p> - <p> - “Blessed if I know, Mrs. Jenks. I've come to find out.” - </p> - <p> - “Then you've not come a second too soon, sir. 'E's - leavin' at daylight. I'd better hannounce you, sir.'E's - particular wot company 'e receives.” - </p> - <p> - She shuffled away, to return presently with the news that Mr. Bowers was - in his room and would be delighted to receive Mr. Webster. Mother Jenks - led Webster to the door, knocked, announced him and discreetly withdrew. - </p> - <p> - “My dear Webster!” cried Andrew Bowers enthusiastically, and - he drew his late fellow-passenger into the room. Webster observed that - Andrew was not alone. “I want to see you privately,” he said. - “Didn't know you had company, or I wouldn't have - intruded.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I knew I had company, didn't I? Come in, you crazy - fellow, and meet some good friends of mine who are very anxious to meet - you,” He turned to a tall, handsome, scholarly looking man of about - forty, whose features, dress, and manner of wearing his whiskers - proclaimed him a personage. “Dr. Eliseo Pacheco, I have the honour - to present Mr. John S. Webster, the American gentleman of whom you have - heard me speak.” - </p> - <p> - Doctor Pacheco promptly leaped to his feet and bowed with ostentatious - reverence; then suddenly, with Latin impulsiveness, he advanced upon - Webster, swept aside the latter's outstretched hand, clasped John - Stuart Webster in fraternal embrace, and to the old sour-dough's - inexpressible horror, kissed him upon the right cheek—after which he - backed off, bowed once more, and said in Spanish: - </p> - <p> - “Sir, my life is yours.” - </p> - <p> - “It is well he gave it to you before you took it,” Andrew said - in English, and he laughed, noting Webster's confusion. “And - this gentleman is Colonel Pablo Caraveo.” - </p> - <p> - “Thunder, I'm in for it again,” Webster thought—and - he was, for the amiable colonel embraced Webster and kissed his left cheek - before turning to Andrew. - </p> - <p> - “You will convey to our guest, in English, Don Ricardo, assurances - of my profound happiness in meeting him,” he said in Spanish. - </p> - <p> - “The Colonel says you're all to the mustard,” Andrew at - once interpreted merrily. - </p> - <p> - “Rather a liberal translation,” Webster retorted in Spanish, - whereat Colonel Caraveo sprang up and clapped his hands in delight. - Evidently he had looked forward with considerable interest to meeting - Webster and had had his contentment clouded by the thought that Andrew's - gringo friend could not speak Spanish. - </p> - <p> - “Your happiness, my dear Colonel,” Webster continued, “is - extravagant grief compared with my delight in meeting a Sobrantean - gentleman who has no desire to skewer me.” He turned to Andrew. - “While introductions are in order, old son, suppose you complete the - job and introduce yourself. I'm always suspicious of a man with an - alias.” - </p> - <p> - “Then behold the death of that impudent fellow Andrew Bowers, late - <i>valet de chambre</i> to this eminent mining engineer and prince of - gentlemen, Mr. John Stuart Webster. Doctor Pacheco, will you be good - enough to perform the operation?” - </p> - <p> - “This gentleman,” said the doctor, laying his hand on Andrew's - shoulder, “is Don Ricardo Luiz Ruey, a gentleman, a patriot, and the - future president of our unhappy country.” - </p> - <p> - Webster put his hands on the young man's shoulders. “Ricardo - my son,” he asked earnestly, “do you think you could give me - some little hint of the approximate date on which you will assume office? - By the nine gods of war, I never wanted a friend at court so badly as I - want one to-night.” - </p> - <p> - Doctor Pacheco, Colonel Caraveo, and Ricardo Ruey exchanged glances and - laughed heartily. “I must introduce him to Captain Benavides and - Lieutenant Arredondo,” the Colonel said slyly. - </p> - <p> - “What!” Webster was amazed. “You know about it already?” - </p> - <p> - “Better than that, friend Webster. We knew about it before it - happened. That is, we knew it was going to happen,” Ricardo informed - him. . - </p> - <p> - Webster sat down and helped himself from a box of cigars he found on - Ricardo's bureau. “I feel I am among friends at last,” - he announced between preliminary puffs; “so listen while I spin a - strange tale. I've been the picture of bad luck ever since I started - for this infernal—this wonderful country of yours. After leaving - Denver for New Orleans, I came within a whisker of dying of ptomaine - poisoning. Then in New Orleans I took a Sunday-morning stroll in Jackson - Square and came across two men trying to knife another. In the interest of - common decency I interfered and won a sweeping victory, but to my - amazement the prospective corpse took to his heels and advised me to do - the same.” - </p> - <p> - Ricardo Ruey sprang for John Stuart Webster. “By George,” he - said in English, “I'm going to hug you, too. I really ought to - kiss you, because I'm that man you saved from assassination, but—too - long in the U.S.A., I suppose; I've lost the customs of my country.” - </p> - <p> - “Get out,” yelled Webster, fending him off. “Did you - lose anything in that fracas?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, a Malacca stick.” - </p> - <p> - “I have it.” - </p> - <p> - “Holy Moses! Jack—I'm going to call you Jack—why - didn't you say something about this while we were on the steamer - together?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, we played crib' and dominoes most of the way down, when - I wasn't seasick, and we talked about other things. By the way, - Ricardo—I'm going to call you Rick for short—do you - happen to have any relatives in this country?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, a number of second and third cousins. One lot bears the same - family name.” - </p> - <p> - “No relatives in the United States?” - </p> - <p> - “No.” - </p> - <p> - “Coming down on the steamer, I didn't like to appear curious, - but all the time I wanted to ask you one question.” - </p> - <p> - “Ask it now.” - </p> - <p> - “Are you a Sobrantean?” - </p> - <p> - “I was born in this country and raised here until I was fourteen.” - </p> - <p> - “But you're—why, hang it, you're not a Latin?” - </p> - <p> - “No, I'm a mixture, with Latin predominating. My forbears were - pure Castilians from Madrid, and crossed the Western Ocean in caravels. It's - been a matter of pride with the house of Ruey to keep the breed pure, but - despite all precautions, the family tree has been grafted once with a - Scotch thistle, twice with the lily of France, and once with the shamrock - of Ireland. My mother was an Irishwoman.” - </p> - <p> - “You alibi yourself perfectly, Ricardo, and my curiosity is - appeased. Permit me to continue my tale,” he added in Spanish; and - forthwith he related with humorous detail his adventure at the gangplank - of the steamer that had borne him and Ricardo Ruey south. Ricardo - interrupted him. “We know all about that, friend Webster, and we - knew the two delightful gentlemen had been told off to get you—unofficially.” - </p> - <p> - “How did you find out?” - </p> - <p> - “A leak in the Intelligence Bureau, of which our friend Colonel - Caraveo is an assistant chief.” - </p> - <p> - “Explain,” Webster demanded peremptorily. “Why all this - intrigue extending to two countries and private individuals?” - </p> - <p> - “Certainly. The Sobrantean revolutionary junta has headquarters in - New Orleans. It is composed of political exiles, for Sarros, the present - dictator of Sobrante, rules with an iron hand, and has a cute little habit - of railroading his enemies to the cemetery via the treason charge and the - firing-squad. Quite a quaint fellow, Sarros! Robs the proletariat and - spends it on the army with a lavish hand, and so in sheer gratitude they - keep him in office. Besides, it's a sign of bad luck to oppose him - at the regular elections. Well, he—he killed my father, who was the - best president this benighted country ever had, and I consider it my - Christian duty to avenge my father and a patriotic duty to take up the - task he left unfinished—the task of making over my country. - </p> - <p> - “In Sobrante, as in most of the countries in Central America, there - are two distinct classes of people—the aristocrats and peons—and - the aristocrat fattens on the peon, as he has had a habit of doing since - Adam. We haven't any middle class to stand as a buffer between the - two—which makes it a sad proposition. My father was an idealist and - a dreamer and he dreamed of reform in government and a solution of the - agrarian problem which confronts all Latin-America. Moreover, he trusted - the common people—and one should not trust this generation of peons. - We must have fifty years of education—free and compulsory—first. - </p> - <p> - “My father headed a revolution that was brief and practically - bloodless, and the better to do the task he had set himself, he created a - dictatorship with himself as dictator—this because he was shy on - good cabinet and legislative material, the kind he could trust to play - fair with the people.” - </p> - <p> - Ricardo paused. “You are interested in all this, my friend?” - he asked. - </p> - <p> - “It has an old, familiar sound, but crack along.” - </p> - <p> - “My father, being human, erred. He trusted one Pablo Sarros, an - educated peon, who had commanded the government forces under the regime my - father overthrew. My tender-hearted parent discovered that Sarros was - plotting to overthrow him; but instead of having him shot, he merely - removed him from command. Sarros gathered a handful of bandits, joined - with the old government forces my father had conquered, hired a couple - dozen Yankee artillerymen and—he won out. My father was captured and - executed; the palace was burned, and my sister perished in the flames. I'm - here to pay off the score.” - </p> - <p> - “A worthy ambition! So you organized the revolutionary junta in New - Orleans, eh?” - </p> - <p> - Ricardo nodded. “Word of it reached Sarros, and he sent his brother - Raoul, chief of the Intelligence Bureau, to investigate and report. As - fast as he reported, Colonel Caraveo reported to me. Sarros and his gang - are just a little bit afraid of me, because he's about as popular - with the people as a typhus epidemic, and strange to say, this curiously - mercurial people have not forgotten the brief reign of his predecessor. My - father's son possesses a name to conjure with. Consequently it was - to the interest of the Sarros administration that I be eliminated. They - watched every boat; hence my scheme for eluding their vigilance—which, - thanks to you, worked like a charm.” - </p> - <p> - “But,” Webster complained, “I'm not sitting in the - game at all, and yet I'm caught between the upper and nether - millstones.” - </p> - <p> - “That is easy to explain. You interfered that morning in Jackson - Square; then Raoul Sarros met you going aboard the steamer for - Buenaventura and you manhandled him; and naturally, putting two and two - together, he has concluded that you are not only his personal enemy but - also a friend and protector of mine and consequently an enemy of the - state.” - </p> - <p> - “And as a consequence I'm marked for slaughter?” - </p> - <p> - “The first plan considered,” said Colonel Càraveo, gravely, - “was for Captain Benavides, who is an expert swordsman and a - marvellous pistol-shot, to pick a quarrel with you.” - </p> - <p> - “No hope, Colonel. I manhandled 'em both and declined to fight - on their terms. I suppose now I'll just naturally be assassinated.” - </p> - <p> - “It would be well, my friend,” Doctor Pacheco suggested, - “to return to the United States until after Ricardo and his friends - have eliminated your Nemesis.” - </p> - <p> - “How soon will that happy event transpire?” - </p> - <p> - “In about sixty days we hope to be ready to strike, Mr. Webster.” - </p> - <p> - “We are recruiting our men secretly,” Ricardo explained. - “Our base is back in the hills beyond San Miguel de Padua. I'm - going up there to-morrow.” - </p> - <p> - “I was going up to San Miguel de Padua in a day or two myself, Rick, - but I'll be hanged if I know what to do now. I'm beginning to - worry—and that's a new experience with me.” - </p> - <p> - Colonel Caraveo cleared his throat. “I understand from Ricardo that - you and another American are interested in a mining concession, Mr. - Webster.” - </p> - <p> - Webster nodded. - </p> - <p> - Al-*~ - </p> - <p> - “Is this a private landholder, or did your friend secure it from the - Sarros government?” - </p> - <p> - “From the government. We pay ten per cent, royalty, on a - ninety-nine-year lease, and that's all I know about it. I have never - seen the property, and my object in coming was to examine it and, if - satisfied, finance the project.” - </p> - <p> - “If you will return to your hotel, my dear sir,” Colonel - Caraveo suggested, “and remain there until noon to-morrow, I feel - confident I can guarantee you immunity from attack thereafter. I have a - plan to influence my associates in the Intelligence Office.” - </p> - <p> - “Bully for you, Colonel. Give me sixty days in which to operate, and - I'll have finished my job in Sobrante and gotten out of it before - that gang of cutthroats wakes up to the fact that I'm gone. I thank - you, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “The least we can do, since you have saved Ricardo's life and - rendered our cause a great service, is to save your life,” Colonel - Caraveo replied. - </p> - <p> - “This is more comfort than I had hoped for when I came here, - gentlemen. I am very grateful, I assure you. Of course this little - revolution you're cooking up is no affair of mine, and I trust I - need not assure you that your confidence is quite safe with me.” - </p> - <p> - The Doctor and the Colonel immediately rose and bowed like a pair of - marionettes. Webster turned to Ricardo. - </p> - <p> - “Have you had any experience in revolutions, my son?” he - asked. - </p> - <p> - Ricardo nodded. “I realized I had to have experience, and so I went - to Mexico. I was with Madero through the first revolution.” - </p> - <p> - “How are you arming your men?” - </p> - <p> - “Mannlichers. I've got five thousand of them. Cost me twelve - dollars each. I've got twenty million rounds of cartridges, - twenty-five machine-guns, and a dozen three-inch field-guns. I have also - engaged two hundred American ex-soldiers to handle the machine-guns and - the battery. These rascals cost me five dollars a day gold, but they're - worth it; they like fighting and will go anywhere to get it—and are - faithful.” - </p> - <p> - “You are secretly mobilizing in the mountains, eh?” Webster - rubbed his chin ruminatively. “Then I take it you'll attack - Buenaventura when you strike the first blow?” - </p> - <p> - “Quite right. We must capture a seaport if we are to revolute - successfully.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm glad to know that. I'll make it my business to be - up in the mountains at the time. I'm for peace, every rattle out of - the box. Gentlemen, you've cheered me wonderfully. I will now go - home and leave you to your evil machinations; and, the good Lord and the - jiggers willing, I shall yet glean a night's sleep.” - </p> - <p> - He shook hands all around and took his departure. Mother Jenks was waiting - for Webster at the foot of the stairs. He paused on the threshold. - </p> - <p> - “Mrs. Jenks,” he said, “Billy tells me you have been - very kind to him. I want to tell you how much I appreciate it and that I - stand willing to reciprocate any time you are in need.” - </p> - <p> - Mother Jenks fingered her beard and reflected. “'Ave you met - Miss Dolores Ruey, sir?” she queried. - </p> - <p> - “Your ward? Yes.” - </p> - <p> - “'Ow does the lamb strike you, Mr. Webster?” - </p> - <p> - “I have never met many women; I have known few intimately; but I - should say that Miss Dolores Ruey is the marvel of her sex. She is as - beautiful as she is good, as good as she is intelligent, and as - intelligent as she can be.” - </p> - <p> - “She's a lydy, sir,” Mother Jenks affirmed proudly. - “An' I done it. You can see with arf a heye wot I am, but for - all that, I've done my dooty by her. From the day my sainted 'Enery— - 'e was a colonel o' hartillery under President Ruey, Dolores's - father—hescaped from the burnin' palace with 'er an' - told me to raise 'er a lydy for the syke of her father, as was the - finest gentleman this rotten country 'll ever see, she's been - my guidin' star. She's self-supportin' now, but still I - ain't done my whole dooty by her. I want to see 'er married to - a gentleman as 'll maintain 'er like a lydy.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, Mrs. Jenks, I think you will live to see that worthy - ambition, attained. Mr. Geary is head over heels in love with her.” - </p> - <p> - “Aye. Willie's a nice lad—I could wish no better; but - wot 'e's got 'e got from you, an' where'll - 'e be if 'is mine doesn't p'y big? Now, with you, - sir, it's different. You're a bit oldern' Billy, an' - more settled an' serious; you've made yer fortune, so Willie - tells me, an', not to go beatin' about the bally bush, I s'y, - wot's the matter with you an' her steppin' over the - broomstick together? You might go a bloomin' sight farther an' - fare wuss.” - </p> - <p> - “Too old, my dear schemer, too old!” John Stuart replied - smilingly. “And she's in love with Billy. Don't worry. - If he doesn't make a go of this mining concession, I'll take - care of his finances until he can do so himself. I do not mind telling - you, in strictest confidence, that I have made my will and divided my - money equally between them.” - </p> - <p> - “Gord bless you, for a sweet, kind gentleman,” Mother Jenks - gulped, quite overcome with emotion. - </p> - <p> - Hastily Webster bade Mother Jenks good-night and hurried away to escape a - discussion on such a delicate topic with Billy's blunt and - single-minded landlady. His mind was in a tumult. So it was that he paid - no attention to a vehicle that jogged by him with the <i>cochero</i> - sagging low in his seat, half asleep over the reins, until a quick command - from the closed interior brought the vehicle to an abrupt halt, half a - block in advance of Webster. - </p> - <p> - Save for an arc-light at each end of the block, the Calle de Concordia was - dim; save for Webster, the carriage and the two men who piled hurriedly - out at the rear of the conveyance, the Calle de Concordia was devoid of - life. Webster saw one of the men hurriedly toss a coin to the <i>cochero</i>; - with a fervent “<i>Gracias, mi capitan</i>,” the driver - clucked to his horse, turned the corner into the Calle Elizondo and - disappeared, leaving his late passengers facing Webster and calmly - awaiting his approach. He was within twenty feet of them when the taller - of the two men spoke. - </p> - <p> - “Good evening, my American friend. This meeting is a pleasure we - scarcely hoped to have so soon. For the same we are indebted to Lieutenant - Arredondo, who happened to look back as we passed you, and recognized you - under the arc-light.” - </p> - <p> - Webster halted abruptly; the two Sobrantean officers stood smiling and - evidently enjoying his discomfort. Each carried a service revolver in a - closed holster fastened to his sword-belt, but neither had as yet made a - move to draw—seeing which, Webster felt sufficiently reassured to - accept the unwelcome situation with a grace equal to that of his enemies. - </p> - <p> - “What? You two bad little boys up this late! I'm surprised,” - he replied in Spanish. He folded his arms, struck an attitude and surveyed - them as might an indignant father. “You kids have been up to some - mischief,” he added, as his right hand closed over the butt of his - automatic, where it lay snuggled in the open bolster under his left arm - between his shirt and coat. “Can it be possible you are going to - take advantage of superior numbers and the fact that you are both armed, - to force me into a duel on your terms, my dear Captain Benavides?” - </p> - <p> - By a deferential bow, the unwholesome Benavides indicated that such were - his intentions. “Then,” said Webster, “as the challenged - party I have the choice of weapons. I choose pistols.” - </p> - <p> - “At what range?” the Lieutenant asked with mock interest. - </p> - <p> - “As we stand at present. I'm armed. Pull your hardware, you - pretty pair of polecats, and see if you can beat me to the draw.” - </p> - <p> - Captain Benavides's jaw dropped slightly; with a quiet, deliberate - motion his hand stole to his holster-flap. Lieutenant Arredondo wet his - lips and glanced so apprehensively at his companion that Webster was aware - that here was a situation not to his liking. - </p> - <p> - “You should use an open holster,” Webster taunted. “Come, - come—unbutton that holster-flap and get busy.” - </p> - <p> - Benavides's hand came away from the holster. He was not the least - bit frightened, but his sense of proportion in matters of this kind was - undergoing a shake-up. - </p> - <p> - “In disposing of any enemy in a gun fight, so a professional killer - once informed me,” Webster continued, “it is a good plan to - put your first bullet anywhere in the abdomen; the shock of a bullet there - paralyzes your opponent for a few seconds and prevents him from returning - the compliment, and in the interim you blow his brains out while he lies - looking at you. I have never had any practical experience in matters of - this kind, but I don't mind telling you that if I <i>must</i> - practise on somebody, the good Lord could not have provided two more - delightful subjects.” - </p> - <p> - He ceased speaking, and for nearly half a minute the three men appraised - each other. Benavides was smiling slightly; Arredondo was fidgeting; - Webster's glance never faltered from the Captain's nervous - hand. - </p> - <p> - “You would be very foolish to draw,” Webster then assured - Benavides. “If I am forced to kill you, it will be with profound - regret. Suppose you two dear, sweet children run along home and think this - thing over. You may change your mind by to-morrow morn——” - </p> - <p> - The Captain's hand, with the speed of a juggler's, had flown - to his holster; but quick as he was, Webster was a split-second quicker. - The sound of his shot roared through the silent <i>calle</i>, and - Benavides, with his pistol half drawn, lifted a bloody, shattered hand - from the butt as Webster's automatic swept in a swift arc and - covered Arredondo, whose arms on the instant went skyward. - </p> - <p> - “That wasn't a half-bad duel,” Webster remarked coldly. - “Are you not obliged to me, Captain, for not blowing your brains out—for - disregarding my finer instincts and refraining from shooting you first - through the abdomen? Bless you, my boy, I've been stuck for years in - places where the only sport consisted in seeing who could take a revolver, - shoot at a tin can and roll it farthest in three seconds. Let me see your - hand.” - </p> - <p> - Benavides sullenly held up that dripping member, and Webster inspected it - at a respectful distance. “Steel-jacket bullet,” he informed - the wounded man. “Small hole—didn't do much damage. You'll - be just as well as ever in a month.” - </p> - <p> - He helped himself to Arredondo's gun, flipped out the cylinder, and - slipped all six cartridges into his palm. Similarly he disarmed Benavides, - expressed his regret that circumstances had rendered it imperative to use - force, and strolled blithely down the <i>calle</i>. In the darkened <i>patio</i> - he groped along the wall until he found the swinging rope by which he had - descended from his room—whereupon he removed his shoes, tied the - laces together, slung them around his neck, dug his toes into the adobe - wall and climbed briskly to his room. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XIX - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE next morning - Webster waited until Dolores appeared and then accompanied her into the - dining room for breakfast. - </p> - <p> - “Well, how did you pass your first night in Buenaventura?” she - inquired, in the manufacture of breakfast conversation. - </p> - <p> - “Not very well. Jiggers bit me and woke me up, and finally I fell - into a trance and had a vision—about you. After that I couldn't - get to sleep again. I was fairly bursting to see you at breakfast and read - your palm. I've just discovered a wonderful system.” - </p> - <p> - “Show me,” she flashed back at him, and she extended her - little hand. He picked it up gravely and with the dull tine of a fork made - a great show of tracing the lines on her palm. - </p> - <p> - “You are about twenty-four years old, and your ancestors were - pure-bred Castilians who came from Madrid, crossing the Atlantic in - caravels. Ever since the first Ruey landed on this coast the family has - been identified with the government of the country in one way or another. - Also, Scotch, French, and Irish blood has been infused into the tribe; - your mother was an Irish woman. When you were quite a little girl, your - father, Don Ricardo Ruey, at that time president of Sobrante, failed to - suppress a revolution and was cornered in the government palace, which was - set afire. - </p> - <p> - “Through the bravery and devotion of a cockney gentleman, Colonel - Henry Jenks, an artillery officer in your father's army, you were - saved from perishing in the burning palace. Colonel Jenks turned you over - to his spouse, now known as Mother Jenks, with instructions to raise you a - lydy, and Mother Jenks has carried out those instructions. Colonel Jenks - and your father were executed, and Mother Jenks sent you to the United - States to be educated. You had a brother, Ricardo Luis Ruey, older than - yourself by seven or eight years, I should judge. In some mysterious - manner you and your brother lost track of each other, and at the present - moment he believes you perished in the flames that gutted the government - palace. - </p> - <p> - “You are of a proud, independent nature; you work at something for a - living, and inasmuch as you haven't been able to set aside a great - deal of money from your earnings, you are planning to terminate your visit - to your native land at an early date and return to the United States for - the purpose of getting back to work. These plans, however, will never be - consummated. - </p> - <p> - “Why? Because you are to be married to a nice man and live happily - ever afterward; and about sixty days from now, if all goes well, I, John - S. Webster, am going to introduce you to your long-lost brother Ricarda - You will first see Ricardo riding at the head of his victorious rebel - troops as he enters Buenaventura. He will be the next president of this - wretched country, if, fortunately, he is not killed in the revolution he - is now fomenting against his father's ancient enemy. Your brother - does not know you are living, and it will be a proud and happy day for me - when I bring him to you. In the interim, what do you purpose having for - breakfast? Ham and eggs sunny side up, an omelette or a cereal?” - </p> - <p> - He released her hand and favoured her with the boyish grin that always had - the effect of stripping the years from him as one strips the husk from a - ripe ear of com. She was gazing at him in wide-eyed amazement. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, don't doubt me,” he pleaded. “It will all - come out just as I have told you. Of course, I don't go in for - telling fortunes very often; I'm a slow old horse to start, but once - I sneak into the collar, something has to give.” - </p> - <p> - “Is my brother really alive?” - </p> - <p> - “He was as late as midnight last night. Do you recall the chap I - saved from being assassinated in New Orleans?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes.” - </p> - <p> - “Your worthy brother. And do you recall the chauffeur whose passage - to this port I was forced to pay?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes.” - </p> - <p> - “The same individual. I sent him ashore in the launch with Billy, - and he has been housed at El Buen Amigo, but left early this morning for - the back-country to open a recruiting office.” - </p> - <p> - “And you have known this all along and wouldn't tell me?” - she reproved him. - </p> - <p> - “Didn't discover it until after I had left him last night; - then I put two and two together and made four.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I can hardly believe it.” - </p> - <p> - “I never lie.” - </p> - <p> - “Never?” - </p> - <p> - “I mean on serious matters. And you needn't cry about it, Miss - Ruey. I do not purpose being the bearer of welcome news and having my - breakfast ruined for my reward.” - </p> - <p> - She reached across the little table and squeezed his big brown hand - impulsively. “You're the most wonderful man I ever knew. And - does my poor brother know I am living, Mr. Webster?” - </p> - <p> - “No—and I'm not going to tell him. I think it will be - much nicer to restore you to each other on the steps of the government - palace on the day when the Ruey faction comes into its own again. That - will make his victory all the sweeter. I am the innocent bystander who - started this little drama, and by jingo, I want to finish it. Why, it has - been years and years since I've had any real sport.” - </p> - <p> - “You're so kind!” - </p> - <p> - “Not at all. My discovery of your brother was as accidental as - falling downstairs.” And he related to her his interview with - Ricardo, whose statements, when compared with the information gleaned from - Mother Jenks, had proved so illuminating. “By the way,” he - continued, “where was Ricardo when your father's ship of state - went on the rocks?” - </p> - <p> - “At school in a military academy in Kentucky. At least, so I was - informed by my cousins here shortly after my arrival, and prior to losing - caste with them because of my association, unchaperoned, with Billy.” - </p> - <p> - “It is a marvellous mix-up, which Ricardo can doubtless explain, - Miss Ruey. I know he believes his sister perished with her father; Mother - Jenks didn't know where he was and couldn't communicate with - him—and there you are. However, little old Jack Fix-it will bring - you together again in due course. In the interim, how about those eggs? - Straight up—or flip 'em?” - </p> - <p> - She beamed across at him. “We are going to be such good, true - friends, aren't we?” she urged. He almost shivered, but - managed a hypocritical nod. “While we have only known each other - twenty-four hours, it seems a great deal longer than that—probably - because Billy has told me so much about you, and you're—so - comfortable and easy to get acquainted with, and I—I can't - very well express my gratitude for what you've done—for what - you're going to do.” Her voice faltered; she smiled roguishly - through the tears of her emotion. “If I were only Billy, now, I - could put my arm across your shoulders and settle the matter by saying: - 'Johnny, you old horsethief, you're all right.'” - </p> - <p> - “The best thing to do would be to cease puffing me up with - importance. And now, before we climb out of the realm of romance and the - improbable to the more substantial plane of things for breakfast, just one - brief word of caution. Now that I have told you your brother lives and is - in Buenaventura, forget it until I mention it again, because his presence - here is his secret, not ours.” - </p> - <p> - “All right, Caliph,” she agreed. “I think I shall call - you that hereafter. Like the late Caliph Haroun A! Raschid, it appears you - have a habit of prowling around o' nights in queer places, doing - good deeds for your subjects. But tell me about my brother. Describe him - to me.” - </p> - <p> - “Not now. Here comes the head waiter with a cablegram for me, I - think.” - </p> - <p> - That functionary came to their table and handed one of the familiar yellow - envelopes to each of them. - </p> - <p> - “We'll excuse each other,” Dolores suggested. She read: - </p> - <p> - Go you if I lose. I like you fine. - </p> - <p> - You are a good, game little scout, and Jerome. - </p> - <p> - She glanced across at Webster, whose face was a conflicting study of - emotions in which disappointment and amazement appeared to predominate. - “You ancient scoundrel,” she heard him murmur. - </p> - <p> - “What ho, Caliph! Unpleasant news?” she ventured. - </p> - <p> - “Yes—and no. I had one of the finest jobs in the world all - staked out—and now the boss cables me it's filled—by a - better man.” - </p> - <p> - “What are you going to do about it?” - </p> - <p> - “Well—as soon as I've had my breakfast, I'm going - to cable Neddy Jerome and tell him I'm satisfied—satisfied to - stay here and satisfied he's a liar. You see, Miss Ruey, he objected - vigorously to my coming here in the first place—wanted me to take a - thirty-day vacation and then manage the Colorado Consolidated Mines - Company, Limited, for him. I like Neddy and would have been glad to go to - work for his company, but of course Billy comes first, and so I declined - the offer. Later I changed my mind, and last night I cabled him I'd - accept if he'd wait sixty days—possibly ninety; and now he - replies that he's sorry, but the job is filled by a better man. That's - why I know he's a liar.” - </p> - <p> - “I see. You figure there isn't a better mining engineer than - you—eh, Caliph?” - </p> - <p> - He looked at her reproachfully. “No, but Neddy Jerome does, and I - know he does because he has taken the trouble to tell me so more than - once. And as a rule Neddy inclines toward the truth. However, it's - just as well——” He paused, staring hard at her. “By - the way, you foretold this! Why, this is amazing.” - </p> - <p> - She could now have wept with laughter. “Well”—soberly—“I - told you some other things equally amazing, did I not?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, you told me other things more or less interesting, but you <i>fore</i>told - this. How do you account for that?” - </p> - <p> - “The witness declines to answer, on the ground that she may - incriminate herself and be burned for a witch.” - </p> - <p> - “Remarkable woman!” - </p> - <p> - “You were about to remark that it is just as well——” - </p> - <p> - “That Neddy's reconciled to losing me, because since cabling - him yesterday evening I've changed my mind again. I'm going to - stay here now.” - </p> - <p> - “Indeed! Why?” - </p> - <p> - “Just to be obstinate. Apparently I'm not wanted here by the - powers that be; so just to rile them I'm going to hang around - Sobrante the way Grant hung around Richmond and argue the question with - them. By the way, I see you received a cablegram also. Better news than - mine, I hope.” - </p> - <p> - She nodded. “I have a little business deal on back home. Haven't - got a great deal invested, but it looks as if I might make ten thousand - dollars.” - </p> - <p> - He arched his eyebrows and favoured her with a little disapproving grunt. - Sounded like the prospectus of a fake mining promoter—yes, by - thunder, that was it. Dolores was a school teacher, and school teachers - and doctors are ever the mainstay of a swindler's sucker list. - </p> - <p> - “You won ten dollars from me yesterday,” he challenged. - “Bet you another ten I can tell you the nature of your investment.” - </p> - <p> - “Go you, if I lose!” Unconsciously she was learning the argot - of the male of the species, as exemplified in Neddy Jerome's - cablegram. - </p> - <p> - “It's a mining property.” - </p> - <p> - “You win. It is,” she answered truthfully, starting to open - her purse. - </p> - <p> - “Quartz or placer?” - </p> - <p> - “I don't know. Explain.” * - </p> - <p> - He chuckled at her ignorance. “Quartz is goldbearing rock, and - placer is gold-bearing gravel.” - </p> - <p> - “Then my mining property is placer, because it has lots of sand.” - </p> - <p> - “I knew it, I knew it,” he warned her solemnly, and he shook - an admonitory finger at her. “Black sand, eh? Is the gold very fine?” - </p> - <p> - “I think it is.” - </p> - <p> - “Then you're stung good and deep—so don't delude - yourself into thinking you have ten thousand dollars coming. I never knew - a proposition for saving the fine gold in black sand that didn't - turn out to be a fizzle. It's the hardest thing in the world to - save. Now, listen: You tell me the name of the flim-flam artist that got - you into this deal, and when I get back to the United States I'll - investigate the company; if it's an out-and-out swindle, I'll - take that promoter by the throat and choke your money out of him, the - scoundrel! It is just these fly-by-night fellows that ruin the finest - gambling game in the world and scare off investors in legitimate mining - propositions.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you mustn't—really, Caliph. He's an old man, - and I only did it to help him out.” - </p> - <p> - “There should be no sentiment in business, Miss Ruey.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, well, let's be cheerful and hopeful, Caliph, and discuss - a more important subject.” She was very serious now, for by her - meddling she had, she realized, so arranged matters that at a time when - John Stuart Webster's very life depended upon his immediate - departure from Buenaventura, he was planning to stay and face the music, - just to be obstinate. “You must reconsider your latest decision to - remain in this country,” she insisted. “Your life may be the - price of liberty of action, you know.” - </p> - <p> - “'Give me liberty or give me death,'” quoted - Webster. - </p> - <p> - “But isn't Billy capable of developing the mine after you - advance the cash?” - </p> - <p> - “I wouldn't advance him a cent for his mine until I had - investigated it myself.” - </p> - <p> - “Then you should make some arrangements to safeguard yourself while - making the investigation, and leave Sobrante immediately thereafter. Isn't - that a sensible proposition?” - </p> - <p> - “Very—if I felt like leaving Sobrante. But I do not. If that - mining concession is a potential winner, I'll have to stick around - and make a winner out of it before I go away and leave Bill in charge. - Besides, I'm worried about Bill. He's full of malarial fever, - and last night I got thinking about him and decided to send him back to - the Colorado mountains for a few months. This country is going to be in - the throes of a revolution; the chances are we will not be able to do much - with our property until the war is over, and I will be able to do that - little. I want some regular doctors to work on Bill so he'll be fit - when he gets back on the job.” - </p> - <p> - As a matter of fact, this idea of sending Billy to the United States had - but that moment occurred to Jack Webster; he reflected now that this plan - was little short of an inspiration. It would give Billy and Dolores an - opportunity to marry and have a honeymoon; it would leave him free of her - disturbing presence, and enable him to leave Sobrante when the Gearys - should return. He resolved to speak to Billy about it. - </p> - <p> - Dolores's voice broke in upon his cunning reflections. “But - Billy tells me you already have a fortune sufficient for the needs of a - caliph without a court. Why risk your precious life to acquire more? Money - isn't everything in life.” - </p> - <p> - “No, but the game is.” - </p> - <p> - “What game? Mining?” - </p> - <p> - “The game of life.” - </p> - <p> - “But this is the game of death.” - </p> - <p> - “Which makes life all the sweeter if I can beat the game. Perhaps I - can better illustrate my point of view with a story. Some years ago I was - sent to Arizona to examine a mining property and report upon it; if I - advised its purchase, my principals were prepared to buy at my valuation. - Well, when I arrived, I found a miserable shanty close to a shaft and - dump, and in the shanty I found a weatherbeaten couple. The woman was - probably forty but looked fifty. The man had never been anything but a - hard-rock miner—four dollars a day had been the limit of his - earnings in any one day until he stumbled on some float, traced it up, and - located the claims I was there to examine and try to buy. - </p> - <p> - “His wife had been a miner's daughter, knowing nothing but - drudgery and poverty and continuing that existence after marriage. For - twenty years she had been darning her husband's socks, washing his - clothes, and cooking his meals. Even after they uncovered the ledge, it - wasn't worth any more than the country rock to them unless they - could sell it, because the man had neither the money nor the ability to - develop it himself. He even lacked the ability to sell it, because it - requires real ability to unload any kind of a mine for a million dollars, - and real nerve on the part of the man who buys. I examined the mine, - decided it was cheap at a million dollars, and so reported to my - principals. They wired me to close, and so I took a sixty-day option in - order to verify the title. - </p> - <p> - “Well, time passed, and one bright day I rode up to that shanty with - a deed and a certified check for a million dollars in my pocket; whereupon - I discovered the woman had had a change of heart and bucked over the - traces. No, siree! She would not sign that there deed—and inasmuch - as the claim was community property, her signature was vitally necessary. - She asked me so many questions, however, as to the size of the stamp mill - we would install and how many miners would be employed on the job, that - finally I saw the light and tried a shot in the dark. 'My dear Mrs. - Skaggs,' I said, 'if you'll sign this deed and save us - all a lot of litigation over this option you and your husband have given - me, I'll do something handsome. I will—on my word of honour—I'll - give you the exclusive boarding-house privilege at this mine.'” - </p> - <p> - “And what did she say, Caliph?” - </p> - <p> - “She said: 'Give me the pen, Mr. Webster, and please excuse my - handwriting; I'm that nervous in business matters.'” - </p> - <p> - Dolores's silvery laughter rippled through the room. “But I - don't see the point,” she protested. - </p> - <p> - “We will come to it presently. I was merely explaining one person's - point of view. You would not, of course, expect me to have the same point - of view as Mrs. Skaggs, of Arizona.” - </p> - <p> - “Certainly not.” - </p> - <p> - “All right! Listen to this! In 1907, at the height of the boom times - in Goldfield, Nevada, I was worth a million dollars. On the first day of - October I could have cashed in my mining stocks for a million—and I - had a lot of cash in bank, too. But I'd always worked so hard and - been poor so long that my wealth didn't mean anything to me. I - wanted the exclusive privilege of more slavery, and so I staked a copper - prospect, which later I discovered to consist of uncounted acres of - country rock and about twenty-five dollars' worth of copper stain. - In order to save a hundred dollars I did my own assessment work, drove a - pick into my foot, developed blood-poison, went to the hospital, and was - nice and helpless when the panic came along the middle of the month. The - bank went bust, and my ready cash went with it; I couldn't give my - mining stocks away. Everybody knew I was a pauper—everybody but the - doctor. He persisted in regarding me as a millionaire and sent me a bill - for five thousand dollars.” - </p> - <p> - “How perfectly outrageous! Why, Caliph, I would have let him sue me.” - </p> - <p> - “I would have, too—but I didn't. I induced him to settle - for one hundred thousand shares of stock in my copper prospect. The par - value was a dollar a share, and I was going to sell a block at ten cents, - but in view of his high professional standing I let him have it for a - nickel a share. I imagine he still has it. I bought back later all the - other stock I sold, because the property was worthless, and in order to be - a sport I offered him five hundred dollars for his block, but he thought I - was trying to swindle him and asked five thousand.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, Caliph!” - </p> - <p> - “Wonderful game, isn't it—this game of life. So sweet - when a fellow's taking chances! Now that I am fairly prosperous - again, the only thing in life that really matters is the uncertainty as to - whether, when finally I do leave Sobrante, I shall ride to the steamship - landing in a hack or a hearse.” - </p> - <p> - “But you could go in a hack this morning and avoid that uncertainty.” - </p> - <p> - “The millionaire drudge I told you of could have gone to five in a - pretty villa on the Riviera, but she chose a miner's boarding-house.” - </p> - <p> - “Then why,” she persisted, “did you leave the United - States with the firm intention of remaining in Sobrante indefinitely, - change your mind before you were here eight hours, and cable this Neddy - Jerome person you would return in sixty or ninety days—and the - following morning decide to remain, after all!” - </p> - <p> - “My dear young lady, if I changed my clothes as often as I change my - mind, the what-you-may-call-'em chaps that manufacture Society Brand - clothes couldn't keep me dressed.” - </p> - <p> - “But why?” - </p> - <p> - “That,” he answered gravely, “is a secret.” - </p> - <p> - “Women delight to pry into men's secrets.” - </p> - <p> - “I know it. Had a friend once—married. Every night after - dinner he used to sit and stare into the fire and his wife used to ask him - what he was thinking about. He would look up at her owlishly and tell her - it was something he couldn't explain to her, because she'd - never understand it—and that was all he would tell her, although - right frequently, I dare say, he felt like telling her something she could - understand! She brooded over his secret until she couldn^t stand it any - more, and one day she packed her duds and flew home to mother. He let her - stay there three months, and finally one day he sent her a blueprint of - what he'd been thinking about.” - </p> - <p> - “What was it?” - </p> - <p> - “An internal-combustion engine. You see, until she left him, he'd - never been able to get set to figure out something in connection with the - inlet valves——” - </p> - <p> - “Stop right there, Caliph. I'm rebuked. I'll let you get - set to think——” - </p> - <p> - “I didn't mean that. You let me get set yesterday—and I - figured it all out then—and last night—and a minute ago. I don't - care to do any more thinking to-day. Please talk to me.” - </p> - <p> - “And you refuse to tell me why you cabled your friend Jerome?” - </p> - <p> - “You will never know. I told you it's a secret.” - </p> - <p> - “Bet you I find out.” - </p> - <p> - “How much? That ten thousand dollars you expect to make from the - flour-gold in your black-sand claim? And by the way, ten dollars, please. - I won it for guessing you were interested in a mining proposition.” - </p> - <p> - She returned to him the bill she had won from him the day before. “Ten - thousand dollars suits me. Of course I haven't got the money just - now, and this is what Billy calls a finger-bet, but if I lose, I guarantee - to pay. Are we betting even money? I think that is scarcely fair. Under - the circumstances I should be entitled to odds.” - </p> - <p> - “Nothing doing! No odds on a bet of this nature to a seeress who has - already jarred me from soul to vermiform appendix by making good! You know - too blamed much already, and how you discovered, it is a problem that may - drive me crazy yet.” - </p> - <p> - After breakfast they repaired to the veranda to await the result of - Webster's experiment with Don Juan Cafetéro. Sure enough, the wreck - had again returned; he was seated on the edge of the veranda waiting for - them; as they approached, he held up a grimy, quivering hand, in the palm - of which lay—a five-dollar gold-piece. - </p> - <p> - “What?” Mr. Webster said, amazed. “Still unchanged!” - </p> - <p> - “I thried to change it at half a dozen <i>cantinas</i>,” Don - Juan wheezed, “but divil a bit av systim did any av thim have. Wan - offered this in spiggoty money an' the other offered that, an' - sure if I'd taken the best that was offered me in exchange, ye might - have t'ought I'd tuk more nor wan dhrink.” - </p> - <p> - “Bravo! Three long, loud, raucous cheers for Don Juan Cafetéro!” - Dolores cried. “That's just exactly what he expected you to - do, Don Juan.” - </p> - <p> - “Give a dog a bad name, an' 'twill shtick to him,” - the derelict replied resignedly. - </p> - <p> - “Was it a terrible task to come back without a drink, Don Juan?” - </p> - <p> - He shivered. “A shky-blue kangaroo wit' a pink tail an' - green ears chased me into this <i>patio</i>, ma'am.” - </p> - <p> - “You're very brave, Cafferty. How does it feel to win back - your self-respect?” Webster asked him. - </p> - <p> - “Beggin' the young leddy's pardon—it feels like - hell, sor.” - </p> - <p> - “Caliph, don't be cruel,” Dolores pleaded. “Call a - waiter and give Don Juan what you promised him.” - </p> - <p> - So Webster went into the hotel bar and returned presently with a bottle of - brandy and a glass, which he filled and held out toward Don Juan. “One - of the paradoxes of existence, Don Juan,” he observed, “lies - in the fact that so many of the things in life that are good for us are - bad for us. This jolt will disperse the menagerie and quiet your nerves, - but nevertheless it is a nail in your coffin.” - </p> - <p> - Don Juan proved himself a true Hibernian soldier of misfortune by jesting - under fire. “Whilst ye have the hammer in yer hand, sor, dhrive in - another,” he pleaded. Webster declined, however, and returned the - bottle to the bar, where he had it marked for Don Juan and set aside, for - it was his opinion, evolved from a vast experience with hard-drinking - miners, that the only cure for poor, diseased Don Juan lay in a judicious - application of hair from the dog that had bitten him. - </p> - <p> - “And this is another reason why I must stay here longer than I - intended,” he said softly to Dolores, indicating Don Juan with his - thumb. “He's just about ready to be poured back into the - bottle, and I'm going to see if I cannot restore him to his original - solid state. Experiments in chemistry always did fascinate me.” - </p> - <p> - He bade her adieu, and accompanied by his protégé, strolled uptown on a - shopping tour. Here he outfitted Don Juan neatly but not gaudily and added - to his own personal effects two high-power sporting rifles, three - large-calibre automatic pistols, and a plentiful supply of ammunition—after - which he returned to the hotel, first having conducted Don Juan to a - barber shop and given him instructions to report for orders and his midday - drink the instant he should have acquired the outward evidences of - respectability. - </p> - <p> - At the hotel Webster found two messages awaiting him. One was from Billy - Geary, up at San Miguel de Padua, advising him that everything was in - readiness for a trip to the mine; the other was a note from Ricardo Ruey, - but signed with his alias of Andrew Bowers. Webster read: - </p> - <p> - My Dear Friend: - </p> - <p> - Permit me to congratulate you on your marksmanship last night and to - commend your forbearance in winging a gent where killing was not only - justified but to be encouraged. You have, so I am authoritatively - informed, completely buffaloed your two gentlemen. They cannot, in our own - classical English, “quite make you.” - </p> - <p> - However, this letter is not all gossip. A certain higher-up has at length - been convinced that it would be extremely inadvisable to eliminate you - now. It has been pointed out to this person that you are a prom. cit. up - in your neck of the woods and dangerous to monkey with—personally - and because such monkeying may lead to unpleasant complications with your - paternal government. A far more artistic and effective way of raising hell - with you has been suggested to this higher-up individual, and he has - accepted it. Indeed, the plan pleased him so much that he laughed quite - heartily. Really, it is quite diabolical, but remember, he who laughs last - laughs best—and I'm the villain in this sketch. - </p> - <p> - Barring accidents, my dear Webster, you are good for at least six weeks of - existence. Beyond that I dare not guarantee you. - </p> - <p> - Thine, - </p> - <p> - Andrew Bowers. - </p> - <p> - “That makes it nice,” the recipient of this comforting - communication soliloquized. He went up to his room, packed a duffle-bag - with such belongings as he would find necessary during a prolonged stay in - the mountains, and at luncheon was fortunate enough to find Dolores in the - dining room when he entered. Again she motioned him to the vacant chair - opposite to her. - </p> - <p> - “I'm going up to San Miguel de Padua this afternoon,” he - announced as he took his seat. A look of extreme anxiety clouded her - lovely face, and he noticed it. “Oh, there's no risk,” - he hastened to assure her. “That scamp of a brother of yours, - through his friends in high places, has managed to get me a reprieve.” - He handed her Ricardo's letter. - </p> - <p> - She looked up, much relieved, from her perusal. “And how long do you - expect to be gone, Caliph?” - </p> - <p> - “Quite a while. I'll be busy around that dratted concession - for a couple of weeks, surveying and assaying and what-all; then, while - waiting for our machinery and supplies to arrive from the United States, I - shall devote my spare time to hunting and fishing and reforming Don Juan - Cafetéro. The cool hills for mine.” - </p> - <p> - “What a selfish, unsociable programme!” she reflected. “I - wonder if it will occur to him to come down here once in a while and take - me for a drive on the Malecon and talk to me to keep me from dying of - ennui before I meet Ricardo. I'll wait and see if he suggests it.” - </p> - <p> - However, for reasons best known to himself and the reader, Mr. Webster - made no such interesting suggestion; so she decided that while he was - tremendously nice, he was, nevertheless, a very queer man and thoroughly - exasperating. - </p> - <p> - Before leaving that day Webster turned over to her a steamer-trunk filled - with books, and with something of the feeling of a burglar about to rob a - bank, asked her if she would care to ride down to the station with him. - “Sort of speeding the parting guest, you know,” he explained - comfortably, for somehow, at that moment, he felt a trifle untrue to Billy - Geary. Of course, Dolores, having nothing more pleasurable or exciting to - do, would—and did. At the station they found Don Juan waiting in - charge of the baggage. - </p> - <p> - Just before the train pulled out John Stuart Webster took Dolores's - hand. “Good-bye, Seeress,” he said very soberly. “The - trail forks here for the first time—possibly the last, although I'll - try to be on hand to make good on my promise to present you to your - brother the day he occupies the palace. However, if I shouldn't be - in town that day, just go up and introduce yourself to him. It's - been wonderful to have met you and known you, even for such a brief - period. I shall never forget you and the remarkable twenty-four hours just - passed.” - </p> - <p> - “I shall not soon forget them myself, Caliph—nor you,” - she added. “Haven't you been a busy little cup of tea, Caliph! - Within twenty-four hours after landing, you have changed your mind three - times, lost the best job in the world, had your fortune told, been marked - for slaughter, acquired a new-found friend and commenced actively and with - extraordinarily good results the work of reforming him, soused a gentleman - in the fountain, spurned another with the tip of your boot, rode with me - around the Malecon and listened to the band concert, bundled poor Billy - off to San Miguel de Padua, received a challenge to fight a duel, accepted - it, had it rejected, engaged in a street fight and shot a man through the - hand, discovered my brother presumed to be dead, and received a reprieve - from your enemies, while they perfect new plans for destroying you. - Really, you are quite a caliph.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, there's a dash of speed in the old horse yet, Miss Ruey,” - he assured her laughingly. “Now listen: don't tell anybody - about your brother, and don't tell Billy about my adventures since - he left for San Miguel de Padua.” - </p> - <p> - “But I'm not liable to see Billy——” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, you are—extremely liable. I'm going to send him - back to you as soon as I can spare him, because I know you'll be - lonesome and bored to death in this lonesome town, and Bill is bully good - company. And I don't want you to tell him about the mess I'm - in, because it would only worry him; he can't aid me, and the - knowledge that I was in any danger, real or fancied, would be sufficient - to cause him to rebel against my plans for his honeym—for his - vacation. He'd insist on sticking around to protect me.” He - looked down at her little hand where it rested in his, so big and brown - and hard; with his free hand be patted her hand paternally. “Good-bye, - Seeress,” he said again; and turning to the steps, he leaped aboard - just as the train started to move out of the station. - </p> - <p> - “Go—good-bye—Caliph,” she called mournfully. Then - to herself: “Bless his heart, he did remember I'd be terribly - lonely, after all. He isn't a bit queer, but oh, dear, he is <i>so</i> - exasperating. I could bump his kind old head against a wall!” She - turned her back on the train, fearful that from where he clung on the - steps he could, even at that distance, see the sudden rush of tears that - blinded her. However, Don Juan Cafe-téro, with his rubicund nose to the - window of the last coach, did see them—saw her grope toward the - carriage waiting to take her back to the hotel. - </p> - <p> - “Why, shure, the poor darlint's cryin',” he - reflected. “Be the Great Gun an Athlone! Shure I t'ought all - along 'twas Billy Geary she had her eye on—God love him! An' - be the same token, didn't she tell me I was to shtay sober an' - take care av Masther Webster? Hah-hah-a-a-a! Well! I'll say nothin' - an' I'll be neuthral, but—but—but——” - </p> - <p> - From which it may be inferred that romance was not yet burned out of Don - Juan's Gaelic soul. He would be “neuthral,” but—but—but—he - reserved the right to butt in! - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XX - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HROUGHOUT the - slow, tortuous journey, while the train crept up and ever upward into the - hills, Don Juan entertained his patron with alternate snatches of the song - closest to his heart (or rather his stomach)—“The Cruiskeen - Lawn,” which, liberally translated for the benefit of those not - familiar with the Gaelic, means “the morning's morning.” - Between verses the outcast suggested the advisability of a drink to ward - off approaching faintness or discoursed most learnedly on the roadbed, - which was a tribute to his efficiency as a section-boss in his other - incarnation. - </p> - <p> - Arrived at San Miguel de Padua about midnight, Webster found the climate - temperate, in fact, decidedly cool. Billy was waiting for them and was - properly amazed, but not scandalized when Don Juan Cafetéro, abusing the - station hands in a horrible hodgepodge of English and Spanish, - superintended the landing of the baggage on the platform. - </p> - <p> - “I had to bring him with me,” Webster explained. “I'm - going to wean him, and after that baby quits crying for his bottle, - believe me, Bill, we'll have the prince of a foreman for our Mine. - Quite a character, is Don Juan, when you dig down into him.” - </p> - <p> - “Dig far enough into that ruin and you'll find firecrackers,” - Billy admitted. “However, John, I'm afraid he won't - explode. The powder's damp. How did you leave Dolores?” - </p> - <p> - “Fit as a fiddle, Bill.” - </p> - <p> - “How does she stack up on better acquaintance, Johnny?” - </p> - <p> - “She's a skookum lass. She sent her love and I promised to - send you back to her P. D. Q. So don't bother me with talk about - her. If you think you're going to sit by my bed half the night and - talk about your heart's desire, you've another guess coming. - You'll see her again in a week or ten days, I hope.” - </p> - <p> - “No? Is that so, Johnny? Bully for you, you old wampus cat. Tell Don - Juan to steer you over to the Globo de Oro. He knows the place. I've - got to go and hire a mule or some other quadruped for, Don Juan if we're - to avoid a late start in the morning. Good-night, old fellow.” - </p> - <p> - They were up at daybreak, and with three heavily laden pack-mules in - charge of two semi-naked <i>mozos</i>, while the cook jogged comfortably - along on his big splay feet in the rear, they set out for Billy's - concession. From San Miguel de Padua they turned west on a splendid - highway paved with limestone blocks and vending up into the hills on an - easy gradient. - </p> - <p> - “Government built, this, I dare say,” Webster suggested as - they trotted along side by side. - </p> - <p> - Billy nodded. “It is the only evidence I have observed of an - inclination on the part of President Sarros to give the lowly peon a run - for his taxes. This highway stretches from San Miguel de Padua to the - western national boundary; I imagine Sarros built it with some idea of - enabling him to get there first with the most guns in the event of war - with his neighbours on the Pacific side. Quite a rare plucked 'un, - is Sarros—to quote Mother Jenks.” - </p> - <p> - “Are you acquainted with him, Bill? What kind of a bird is he?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, yes, indeed, I know him. We're great <i>amigos</i>. I'm - the man that taught him the folly of betting too heavily on two pair after - the draw. He has Indian blood in him—quite a little of it, in fact; - but he is well educated. Speaks French, Spanish, and English very - fluently. He's a short man and wears high-heeled boots to make - himself look taller than he really is. He is crafty, suspicious, - sensitive, and possessed of a sense of humour—only his humour is - tinged with cruelty. He'd steal a cross off a grave and kill his - best friend as quickly, should political expediency demand it, as you or I - would kill a rattlesnake. He has a rattling good intelligence-department, - pays liberally for information, and keeps down rebellion by the simple - process of locating the ringleaders and shooting them. He bumped off old - General Morelos some six weeks ago—did it on mere suspicion, too.” - </p> - <p> - “You must have come to Sobrante mighty well recommended to get into - the good graces of the scoundrel.” - </p> - <p> - “Not at all! Sarros is a peculiar man. It pleases him to pose as a - democrat and mingle freely with the proletariat—accompanied, - however, by a strong bodyguard. Frequently he visits the cafés in - Buenaventura and fraternizes with all and sundry. I met him first in a - joint known as The Frenchman's, where he used to come to watch the - drawing for the lottery. I was there matching another American for - half-dollars, and Sarros edged up, all interest, and homed in on the game. - Before the session was over we'd swapped cards, and the instant he - learned I was a mining man and down here to give Sobrante the onceover, he - invited me up to the palace for dinner. Our acquaintance quickly ripened - into friendship—on his part. It seems he likes to have enterprising - Americans come to Sobrante and exploit the country, because experience has - demonstrated that if the visitors develop a good thing, there is always a - rake-off in it for Sarros.” - </p> - <p> - Webster nodded. “Same old game anywhere you go south of the Rio - Grande,” he replied. - </p> - <p> - “I had a couple of thousand dollars I'd saved on a job I had - down in Rhodesia, so I was enabled to put up a big front. I received - government permission to prospect government lands, and—” - </p> - <p> - “Do you pay a royalty to the government, Bill?” - </p> - <p> - “Five per cent.” - </p> - <p> - “How about the president's rake-off?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, that's unofficial, of course, but it's understood - we pay him 5 per cent, of our output.” - </p> - <p> - “Anybody else to take care of?” - </p> - <p> - “No, that cleans up the gang. Loaiza, the Minister of the Interior, - wanted in, but I kicked like a bay steer and Sarros shooed him off.” - </p> - <p> - “A fine lot of bandits to do business with!” Webster declared - disgustedly. “Still, it's their way of doing business, and - much as we dislike that kind of business, we'll have to do it that - way or not at all. The government ought to get 10 per cent, of our gross - output, and Sarros ought to be shot. However, I dare say we can stand for - the blackmail if, as you say, you have twelve-dollar ore.” - </p> - <p> - “Wait and assay it yourself,” Billy assured him. For thirty - miles they followed the government highway, and then debouched to the - southwest along a neglected road just wide enough to accommodate the - clumsy oxcarts of the peons. The country was sparsely settled and - evidently given over to stockraising. By degrees the road lost itself in - the tall, dry grass, and became a faint trail which led into a forest of - fir and other woods, with a good deal of mahogany and with very little - underbrush. Billy rode in front, following through the timber a trail of - his own blazing; and on the afternoon of the third day they dropped - swiftly into a bare brown valley lying between timbered hills, displaying - here and there the red stain of oxide of iron, from which evidence Webster - knew he was in a mineral country. Billy pointed to a yellow mound at the - base of one of the toes of the range flanking the valley on the south. - </p> - <p> - “There's the claim,” he announced. “You can see - the dump from here.” - </p> - <p> - A ribbon of green ran down a canon from the south and out into the brown, - parched valley, where it suddenly disappeared. - </p> - <p> - “Sink,” Billy elucidated, following the direction of his - friend's gaze and divining his thoughts. “That creek lies - entirely on our concession—about thirty miner's inches of - water, I should judge. It disappears in the sands out there at the end of - the green streak, but the irrigation along its banks has been sufficient - to insure plenty of good feed for our stock.” - </p> - <p> - Darkness had descended on the valley by the time they had pitched camp and - eaten supper. They were up at dawn the following morning, however, and - immediately after breakfast Jack Webster went to his duffle-bag and - brought forth a dozen little canvas sacks and a prospector's hammer. - “Now then, William, my son,” he announced, “light the - lantern and we'll see if you've forgotten all I taught you - about mining.” - </p> - <p> - They clambered up the dump to a point where two v light steel rails - projected over the edge. On top of the dump, lying beside the rails, were - two small, rusty, steel ore cars; the rails led from the edge of the dump - to the mouth of a tunnel in the hillside and disappeared therein. - </p> - <p> - Webster stood a moment, looking round him. “How did you happen to - locate this ledge?” he demanded. “Was it grass-root stuff, - with an out-cropping here at the foot of the hill? No, of course it wasn't. - You haven't enough ore on the dump. What the devil were you driving - at?” - </p> - <p> - “Only a small portion of that dump is mine, Jack, and I didn't - locate the ground originally. I came into this valley from the south, and - as I worked up the range, I found a bald spot close to the top of the - hill, and a gallows-frame over an abandoned shaft. Naturally, I went down - the shaft to see why it had been abandoned. To my surprise, I found a - twelve-foot vein of free-milling ore, on a contact between andesite and - Silurian limestone. The ledge stood straight up and down, which seemed to - argue great depth.” - </p> - <p> - “Somebody had found an outcropping on top of that hill,” - Webster declared with conviction, “and sunk a shaft on the vein to - open it up and determine its width and direction. How deep was this old - shaft? Thirty or forty feet?” - </p> - <p> - “Thirty-two feet. I figured it out just that way, too. After - determining approximately which way the ledge was pitching, I made up my - mind I'd have a tunnel driven to cut the ledge at right angles at - the foot of the hill, since no practical man would mine from the top of a - hill and hoist his ore through a shaft, when he could mine from the bottom - and haul his ore out on cars through a tunnel. So I came prowling down - into the valley and found this tunnel. The work had been abandoned for a - couple of years, and after examining the tunnel I thought I knew why. They - had failed to cut the ledge as they expected.” - </p> - <p> - “Hum-m! And what did you do, Bill?” - </p> - <p> - “I got my transit and ran a line from the shaft on the hill, - following the direction in which the ledge was running, and marked out the - exact point toward the base of the hill where I would start my tunnel to - cut the ledge. To my surprise, I discovered my predecessor had selected - that identical spot. So I verified my calculations and then sat down to - think it over.” - </p> - <p> - “You should have suspected a fault immediately.” Webster - chided the younger man. “This is a volcanic country——-” - </p> - <p> - “Well,” Billy interrupted, “I suspected a fault, but not - immediately. Remember I'm fifteen years your junior, professor. I - remembered that frequent and violent earthquakes occur in this country, - and it seemed to me a reasonable hypothesis to blame some ancient and - particularly violent seismic disturbance, which had faulted the vein and - set it over a considerable distance. According to my calculation, that - other man should have cut the vein at eighty-three feet—yet he had - gone on one hundred and two before quitting. So I got half a dozen peons - and drove ahead nineteen feet on the other fellow's tunnel; and by - Heck, Johnny, I cut the vein!” - </p> - <p> - “Bully boy! And then?” - </p> - <p> - “I drifted ten feet on the vein, and the ore suddenly gave out. It - stopped just like that, proving I'd come to the upper end of the - vein where it had faulted; so I just worked up and around, stoping and - sinking a winze here and there, until just about the time my cash reserve - was getting pretty low I picked up the true vein and opened it up for the - full width. Come in, and I'll show you.” - </p> - <p> - They entered the tunnel, to the signal dismay of dozens of large bats. - When they reached the vein, Webster broke off samples of the ore every - three or four feet, crawled after Billy up through the stope and back to - the true vein, from the face of which he also took numerous samples; then - he crawled out into the sunshine again, hot, dirty, and perspiring. - </p> - <p> - “Billy, you'll be a real miner yet; see if you won't,” - was all the praise he tendered his youthful partner, standing beside him - in anticipation of a compliment, as Webster got out his portable assay - outfit. - </p> - <p> - For three days Webster worked, determining the values of each sample, only - to find that his assays confirmed Billy's. Then he visited the old - shaft on top of the hill, assayed samples procured there, roamed the range - in the immediate vicinity, marking with expert eye the timber he would - find so useful and close at hand when stulls and lagging for the tunnel - should be needed; then he selected a site where the waters of the stream - could be impounded in a little draw far up the hillside, and returned to - camp to render his final report. - </p> - <p> - “You were right, son,” he announced. “This mine is a - humdinger and no mistake; if you and I live ten years we'll be worth - ten millions between us—maybe more.” - </p> - <p> - Billy's jaundiced eyes glowed hungrily. “We'll put in a - hundred stamps——” - </p> - <p> - “Well, we'll try ten for a starter,” Webster interrupted - dryly, “and add more as the mine pays its way. Our first - consideration is the building of about ten miles of road through that - timber, and repairs to that old dirt road connecting with the Grand - Highway. I noticed there isn't much hard rock work to do, however, - and we'll shoot the trees out of our way with dynamite. After we - have a passable trail broken into this valley it won't take long to - haul in our freight from the railroad at San Miguel de Padua. We'll - cut all our frame- and foundation-timbers for the stamp-mill right here on - the ground, and our other buildings will all be adobe. We'll have to - put in a concrete dam up there on the hill and build a flume to the - stamps. Oh, yes, my son, we'll run the stamps by water power. We'll - have a five-hundred-foot drop at an ample angle, with the last hundred - feet almost perpendicular; believe me, when the water comes through the - penstock, anything in front will have to get out of the way. The same - power will operate a little electric-light plant to light the grounds and - buildings and workings, run the drills, and so on. Yes, it's the - sweetest mining proposition on earth—only, like all high-class - goods, it has one flaw when you examine it closely.” - </p> - <p> - “You're crazy,” Billy challenged. “Name the flaw!” - </p> - <p> - “Sarros!” Webster replied smilingly. “That scoundrel - makes a gamble out of an otherwise sure thing. However,” he added, - recalling the note received from Ricardo Ruey just before his departure - from Buenaventura and reflecting that to be forewarned is to be forearmed, - “we'll accept the gamble. That rascal can't live - forever, and he may be eliminated before he causes us any trouble.” - </p> - <p> - “What will it cost us to get this mine on a paying basis, Johnny*” - </p> - <p> - “Well, back home, I'd figure on spending at least hundred - thousand dollars; but I dare say, taking consideration the low cost of - labour in Sobrante and the raw, natural resources of power and timber - right on the ground, we ought to put this deal over for fifty thousand at - the outside. Praise be, I have cash enough to do the trick without calling - in any help, and such being the case, we'll not waste any time but - hop to the job in a hurry and make the fur fly.” - </p> - <p> - “All right, Jack. What's the programme?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, first off, son, I'm not going to stay in this country - and lose myself managing this mine. That's your job, because you're - young and unimportant in your profession and have the ability to get away - with the job. You can afford to spend the next fifteen years here, but I - cannot. I can only afford to come down here every couple of years and - relieve you for a vacation.” - </p> - <p> - “That's the way I figured it, Jack.” - </p> - <p> - “All right then, Bill, let us start in by giving you your first - vacation. If you're going to dig in here and make the fur fly, you've - got to be in tip-top physical condition—and you are thin and gaunted - and full of chills and fever. Just before I left Buenaventura I cashed a - draft for five thousand dollars on my letter of credit at the Banco - Nacional, and placed it to the credit of your account there. - </p> - <p> - “To-morrow morning you will take your horse, one pack-mule, and one - <i>mozo</i> and ride for San Miguel de Padua, where you will take the - train for Buenaventura. In Buenaventura you may do what you blame please, - but if I were you, boy, I'd try to get married and go back to the U. - S. A. for my honeymoon. And when I finally hit a town that contained some - regular doctors I'd let them paw me over and rehabbit me and - overhaul my bearings and put me in such nice running order I'd be - firing on all twelve cylinders at once. - </p> - <p> - “And when I was feeling tip-top once more I'd wire old John - Stuart Webster and tell him so, after which I'd stand by for a cable - from the said sourdough inviting me to return and take up my labours.” - Billy's wan yellow face lighted up like a sunrise on the desert. - “I guess that plan's kind of poor,” he announced - feelingly. “You're right, Jack. I'm in rotten condition - and I ought to be right before I start. Still, if I should arrange to get - married before I leave, I'd like mighty well to have a good man and - true see me safely over the hurdles.” - </p> - <p> - “That's nice, son, but I haven't time to be your best - man. Arranging the honeymoon lets me out, Bill. I'm in a hurry to - finish here and get back, so the sooner we both start our prospective jobs - the sooner we'll finish. Have a quiet little marriage, Bill, without - any fuss or feathers or voices breathing o'er Eden. What are the - odds, provided you get hitched properly? Besides, I'm in mortal - dread of that town of Buenaventura, The sewer system is bad; it's - rotten with fever; and you'd better get that girl out of it P. D. - Q., and the quicker the better. Myself, I prefer to stay up here in these - mountains in a temperate climate where there are no mosquitoes.” - </p> - <p> - Billy saw that Webster was serious and would resent any interference in - his plans. “All right, Jack,” he assented. “You're - the boss.” - </p> - <p> - “Fine. Now, Bill, you listen to father and be guided accordingly. - When you get to Buenaventura, wire the Bingham Engineering Company, of - Denver, using my name, and tell them to add to my order given them last - month and held for shipping directions, twelve dozen picks, twelve dozen - shovels, twelve dozen mattocks, say, six dozen axes, brush knives, a big - road plow, and whatever other things you happen to think of and which - would come in handy when building our road. Also, when you get to New - Orleans, buy a ton of dynamite and an adequate supply of fuse and - fulminating caps, pay for it and ship it to me at Buenaventura. Further, - look around in New Orleans and buy a stanch three ton motor truck. We'll - need it for getting in supplies from San Miguel de Padua. Pay for the - truck also, and if you go broke and cannot reach me by cable, wire Neddy - Jerome at the Engineers' Club in Denver and kick his eye out in my - honoured name. - </p> - <p> - “I guess that's about all of your job, Bill. As for me, I'll - camp right here. I'll have a deal of surveying to do and I plan to - sweat the booze out of that Cafferty person. I'll make Don Juan my - chain man and run the tail off him. Then I'll be busy with - preliminary plans, arranging for labour and so on, and when I'm idle - I'll go hunting.” - </p> - <p> - In conformity with this plan, therefore, Billy said good-bye to his friend - and packed out for San Miguel de Padua bright and early next morning. - During the following ten days Webster managed to keep himself fairly busy - around the camp at the mine; then for a week he hunted and fished, and - finally, when that began to pall on him, his agile mind returned to - business and the consideration of the possibility of a flaw in Billy's - title to the claim; whereupon he suddenly decided to return to - Buenaventura and investigate that title fully before proceeding to throw - dollars right and left. While socially he was wildly prodigal with his - dollars, in business matters no Scotchman was more canny or more careful - of his baubees. - </p> - <p> - At the head of his little cavalcade, therefore, he rode out one morning - for the railroad, whereat Providence, in its inscrutable wisdom, ordained - that en route he should fall in with no less a personage than Don Ricardo - Luiz Ruey, <i>ne</i> Andrew Bowers. Ricardo was mounted, armed, and alone, - and at sight of Webster he shouted with delight and spurred toward him. - </p> - <p> - “What the devil! You, Rick, the government cut-up. What are you - doing in these parts?” Webster rode up and shook hands. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I'm Robin Hooding it around this part of the country. It - is so secluded, you know, and Sarros hasn't any friends or any - telegraph lines or any garrisons up this way. I heard in San Miguel de - Padua that you were camped yonder, and I was on my way over to confer with - you on matters of state.” - </p> - <p> - “You'll have to confer as we ride along. How does your - business progress, Rick?” - </p> - <p> - “Beyond my wildest expectations. By the way, I need your help, - friend Webster.” - </p> - <p> - “I'll do anything within reason, Rick.” - </p> - <p> - “I figured you would, so I have already imposed on your good nature - to a slight extent. Met your friend Geary at El Buen Amigo a couple of - weeks ago, just before he sailed for the United States. He was telling me - you had to have a lot of tools for road building, so I cabled in a secret - cipher to the So-brantean revolutionary junta in New Orleans to ship these - tools to you immediately. They arrived on the last trip of the <i>Atlanta</i> - and now repose in Leber's warehouse waiting for you to call and - remove them.” - </p> - <p> - “You scoundrel! What have you sent me?” - </p> - <p> - “A couple of hundred rifles and three machine-guns, branded axes, - picks, shovels, plows, and so on. I also ran in three cases of ammunition, - labelled grindstones, two more cases disguised as bolts, and quite several - thousand labelled nails in kegs. I should feel rather sorry for you if my - friend Sarros should get suspicious and investigate, but I haven't - any fear that he will. You see, he knows you're here on legitimate - business. He has investigated and learned that you are a bona fide mining - engineer of considerable reputation—and then, you know, your friend - Geary dickered with him for the concession. The mining property you are - about to develop belongs to the people, not to Sarros; yet he has bartered - it away and will divert the royalty to his own pocket instead of the - public treasury.” - </p> - <p> - “Hum-m-m! What do you want me to do with all those munitions - consigned to me?” - </p> - <p> - “Arrange with Leber to keep them there until you get ready to build - your road into the mine. I want them there when my American mercenaries - arrive in Buenaventura. By the way, you are going to import these - mercenaries for me. They are American miners and road-builders in the - employ of the Honda Mining & Development Company, which is to be the - name of your enterprise. I hope you'll like the name, Webster. I - picked it out myself.” - </p> - <p> - “You cool scoundrel! You're making a cat's paw out of - me.” - </p> - <p> - “That is because you happen to be so handy for my purpose. You see - my plan, do you not? I'm going to attack Buenaventura from within - and without. I'm going to come down on Sarros like a wolf on the - fold, and the job is scheduled for next Saturday night a week.” - </p> - <p> - “Look here, Rick, my boy, I have no desire to mix in the politics of - this country.” - </p> - <p> - “You have some desire, however, to mix in its wealth,” Ricardo - reminded him. - </p> - <p> - “Well?” - </p> - <p> - “I'm the only man that can help you. By the way, do not order - your machinery shipped until after I am seated firmly on the throne of my - fathers.” - </p> - <p> - “Why?” - </p> - <p> - “It's been framed with Sarros to let you spend your money on - that concession and get the mine in running order; then a fake suit, - alleging an error in the government survey, will be filed. It will be - claimed that the concession given your friend Geary is, by virtue of - erroneous government surveys, the property of a citizen of Sobrante. The - courts here do as Sarros tells them. You are to be kicked out, busted, and - despairing, and your nicely equipped little mine will be taken over as a - government monopoly and run for the benefit of the government, to wit, - Sarros and his satellites. We had to cook up a dirty deal like that to - save your life. Of course, now that I have warned you in time, you are - safe. We schemed a proposition, however, that worked both ways. It enabled - us to save you and to save us, by permitting the shipment, free of - suspicion, of arms for the rebels that are to attack the city from within. - Naturally I had to cache their arms within the city—and that was a - hard problem until you happened along. Thank you, fairy godfather.” - </p> - <p> - “My thanks are due you, Ricardo. I'm for you, first, last, and - all the time, and against this Sarros outfit. By the way, how do you - purpose moving your machine-guns?” - </p> - <p> - “We'll have to carry them, I guess.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I'll have a small auto-truck delivered in Buenaventura - by that time. You might arrange to armour it with sheet steel; and with a - couple of machine-guns mounted in it, and a crew of resolute Americans - behind the machine-guns, you could caper from one end of the city to the - other and clear a path for your infantry.” - </p> - <p> - “Thank you, my friend. I'll borrow the motor truck and arrange - to armour it. That's a bully idea. Are you bound for Buenaventura - now?” Webster nodded. “Then,” Ricardo suggested, “I'll - meet you in my room at El Buen Amigo next Wednesday night at eleven and - explain the details of my plans to you if you care to hear them. I think - they're air-tight myself, but somehow I think I'd feel more - certain of them if you approve them.” - </p> - <p> - “I'll be there, Rick, and the day you run that outlaw Sarros - off the grass you'll know why I am for you.” - </p> - <p> - “Good-bye, old man. You will never know how grateful you have made - me.” - </p> - <p> - Ruey shook hands with Webster and rode off through the timber, leaving - John Stuart Webster to pursue the even tenor of his way, until at length - he arrived once more in Buenaventura and sought accommodations at the - Hotel Mateo. And there, as he entered the lobby and gazed through a glass - door across the <i>patio</i> and into the veranda, he saw that which - disturbed him greatly. In a big wicker rocker Dolores Ruey sat, rocking - gently and busily stitching on a piece of fancy work! - </p> - <p> - Billy Geary gone back to the United States, and Dolores was still in - Buenaventura! Amazing! Why, what the devil did Billy mean by letting her - have her own way like that? Of course they hadn't been married, or - she would not now be out there on the veranda, and of course they hadn't - quarrelled, because that was an impossibility, and of course Billy had - departed alone for the U. S. A., else he would have returned to their camp - in the hills back of San Miguel de Padua. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I know what I'm going to do,” Webster decided. - “I'm not going to be led into temptation while Billy's - not on the job—so I'll not put up at the Hotel Mateo after - all. I'll just sneak around to El Buen Amigo and fix it with that - old Mother Jenks not to tip off my presence in town to Dolores Ruey until - I can get the lay of the land and see what the devil has happened to all - my well-laid plans.” - </p> - <p> - He retreated out the front door and called a carriage, into which he was - about to step, bag and baggage, when Don Juan Cafetéro came rushing up in - great excitement. “Sure, where are ye goin' now, sor. Is there - no room for ye in the Hotel Mateo?” - </p> - <p> - “Their beds have jiggers in them, and I just remembered that,” - Webster fibbed. “Hop in, John, and we'll drive around to Mr. - Geary's lodgings in El Buen Amigo.” - </p> - <p> - “But I come t'rough the <i>patio</i> just now,” Don Juan - explained, “an' who should I meet but the young leddy.” - </p> - <p> - “You infernal scoundrel! Did you tell her I was in town?” - </p> - <p> - “Sure I did, sor. An' why not?” - </p> - <p> - “None of your infernal business. You've spoiled everything. - You're a muddle-headed monkey and I've a great notion to let - you get drunk again. Take the baggage back into the hotel.” - </p> - <p> - Don Juan Cafetéro, greatly humbled and rebuffed, stepped aside and watched - Webster stride back into the hotel. “God love ye, sor,” he - mumbled, “know-in' what I know, is it likely I'd let ye - make a monkey out av her or yerself? Ye made yer plans wit' Misther - Geary wit'out consultin' her. Now go, ye grrand big divil, an' - find out why she kicked yer schame to smithereens.” And with a - solemn and knowing wink at the duffle-bag, Don Juan picked that article up - and followed after his master. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXI - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">J</span>OHN STUART WEBSTER'S - agile brain was the repository of many conflicting emotions as he bathed, - shaved, and changed from his soiled khaki field clothes to a suit of ducks - before presenting himself before Dolores. - </p> - <p> - Had Billy's courage forsaken him at the last minute, with the result - that he had gone back to the United States without having settled the - question of Dolores's future? Had he proposed and been rejected, or - had he proposed, been accepted, and had his plans for an immediate - marriage vetoed by Dolores? - </p> - <p> - In either event, why had Billy failed to leave a note for him at the Hotel - Mateo, or mailed him a letter to the Globo de Oro at San Miguel de Padua, - advising him of the change in the plan of action outlined for him by - Webster? - </p> - <p> - If Dolores had accepted him, then Billy Geary was just the sort of - impulsive youth who could not rest until he had advised Webster of his - luck; on the other hand, Billy was susceptible, in matters of love, to the - deep melancholia which is as distinct a characteristic of the Hibernian - nature as wit and light-heartedness, and in the event of disappointment he - would not be apt to rush to his partner with the news; a feeling of - chagrin would prompt him to keep his own counsel, to go away and stay away - until he had Smothered the ache and could return and meet Dolores without - restraint and embarrassment. - </p> - <p> - In the simplicity of his single-hearted devotion Webster was puzzled to - understand how any woman in her right mind could fail to fall in love with - Billy Geary. To begin, he was a fine-looking lad and would look finer when - the chills and fever had been eradicated; he was far from being a runt, - mentally or physically; he was gentle, well-mannered, kind, with the gift - of turning a pretty speech to a woman and meaning it with all his heart - and soul. A man he was, from heels to hair, and a man with prospects far - above the average. To Webster's way of thinking, the girl who - married Billy might well count herself fortunate. - </p> - <p> - Dolores greeted him with unaffected pleasure. “Well, Caliph!” - she said. Just that. It made Webster sensible of a feeling of having - returned to her after an absence of several years. “I'm so - glad to see you, Miss Ruey,” he replied, and added boldly, “particularly - since I didn't expect to.” - </p> - <p> - She knew what her reply would lead to; nevertheless, with that - dissimulation which can only be practised in perfection by a clever and - beautiful woman, she answered with equal boldness: “Indeed! Pray - why?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, for a pretty good reason, I think. A few weeks ago, after - examining Bill's concession very thoroughly, I told him he was a - potential millionaire. Now, while I disclaim any appearance of - braggadocio, when John Stuart Webster, E.M., makes any mine owner a report - like that, he is apt to be taken very seriously. And having made Bill a - potential millionaire and arranged to give him three or four months' - vacation back home, I had a notion he'd present to you a very valid - reason why you should accompany him.” - </p> - <p> - “You are very frank, Caliph.” - </p> - <p> - “That's because I'm curious. You do not mind being - equally frank with an old cuss like me, do you, and telling me just why - Bill's plans miscarried? Because he had a certain dream, and told me - about it, and I did my little best to make it come true. You see, Miss - Ruey, I'm a lot older than Bill, and I've known him since he - was eighteen years old; I feel a responsibility toward him that is almost - paternal.” - </p> - <p> - “I think I understand, Caliph. It would be very difficult, I think, - for anybody to meet Billy without being attracted toward him. He's - one of the dearest, most lovable boys in the world—and he did do me - the signal honour of asking me to marry him. So there!” - </p> - <p> - “Well, and why didn't you?” - </p> - <p> - She smiled at his blunt insistence on forcing the issue. “For a - number of excellent reasons, Caliph. In the first place, he wanted me to - marry him immediately—and I wasn't ready to leave Sobrante, - while Billy was. Indeed, it was highly necessary that he should leave - immediately, for the sake of his health, and I had Billy's interest - at heart sufficiently to insist upon it. You seem to forget that when a - girl marries she must make some preparation for the event, and if she has - any close relatives, such as a brother, for instance, she likes to have - that relative present at the ceremony. You will recall, Caliph, that I - have a brother and that you have promised to introduce me to him very - shortly. Much as you love Billy, would you insist upon depriving me of the - joy of meeting my brother on the day of his triumph—on the day of - the triumph of our family—just to please Billy by marrying him on - ten minutes' notice, and leaving on a honeymoon next day? That is - what you would refer to as crowding my hand and joggling my elbow.” - </p> - <p> - “By Judas, I never thought of that, Miss Ruey,” the repentant - Webster answered. “In fact, I wasn't thinking of anybody's - interest in this matter but Bill's.” - </p> - <p> - “Not even of mine, Caliph?” reproachfully. - </p> - <p> - “That goes without saying. Could I have done anything nicer for you - than fix it for Bill so he would be in position to marry you? Here you - are, practically alone in the world—at least you were when Bill met - you and fell in love with you—and I know that boy so well I was - convinced, after meeting you, that his future happiness and yours would - best be conserved if you married him. I hope you do not think I was - presumptuous in thinking this, or that I am presumptuous now in speaking - my mind so frankly. I realize this is a most unusual conversation——” - </p> - <p> - “Quite to be expected of an unusual man, Caliph. And I do not think - you were one bit presumptuous. It was wonderfully dear of you, and I am - profoundly grateful that Billy and I have such a true, unselfish friend, - whose first thought is for our happiness. I knew I was going to like you - before Billy introduced us—and I think more of you than ever, now - that I know you're a dear, blundering old matchmaker. Of course you - realize how badly I felt to think I couldn't accede to Billy's - plan. Billy's such a dear, it quite broke my heart to disappoint - him, but a little temporary unhappiness will not ruin Billy, will it? It - makes me feel blue to talk about it, Caliph.” - </p> - <p> - “Not at all, not at all, Miss Ruey. Bill is one of the impulsive, - whirlwind kind, up in the clouds today and down in the slough of despond - to-morrow. He'll survive the shock. Of course, it would have been - pretty nice if your affairs had permitted you to accompany Bill; I never - had a honeymoon myself, but it must be a great institution, and I was all - wrapped up in the notion of seeing Bill have what I'd never had - myself—a honeymoon and a wife and kids and money enough to enjoy - 'em all the way that God intended a real man and woman to enjoy - them. However, I'm glad to know everything will come out all right. - Seeing you here gave me a momentary chill; thought a cog had slipped - somewhere, so I helped myself to Cupid's license and asked. A man - cannot learn very much from a woman unless he asks questions, can he? I - mean on the subject of love.” - </p> - <p> - She smiled a little, wistful, knowing smile. “No, Caliph,” she - answered seriously, “somehow the Master of Things ordained that on - the subject of love man must do all the talking.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, but on the other hand, woman has the last word—as usual. - However, the only thing in your case and Billy's that worries me is - the thought that since Bill left his magnet behind he will be drawn back - here before he is in the kind of shape, physically, that I want him to be - in before he relieves me on the job so I can go away.” - </p> - <p> - “Do not worry on that point, Caliph. I am your ally there; between - us both I think we can manage him.” - </p> - <p> - “Fine business! Miss Ruey, if that boy Bill ever gets a notion in - his head that you haven't forgotten more than he'll ever know, - I'll break his neck. And with those few kind words we'll - dismiss William until you care to talk about him again, although if you're - as deep in love as Bill you'll not stay off the subject very long.” - </p> - <p> - “How is Don Juan Cafetéro, Caliph?” - </p> - <p> - “Coming out in the wash and without his colours running. I've - sweated the booze out of him, hiking him over the hills, and bullied him - into eating solids, and a few days ago I shut off the firewater forever, I - hope. However, I'll have to watch him very closely for a long time - yet—particularly in town. Out at the mine he'll be away from - temptation. Hard work is the best cure for Don Juan. There's a deal - of truth in the old saying that Satan will find mischief for idle hands to - do. I imagine you've been rather idle lately. Hope you haven't - been into mischief.” - </p> - <p> - “I haven't been idle. I've made several dresses for - Mother Jenks and done a lot of fancy work and begun the study of my mother - tongue. If my brother should become president of this country, it would - ill become his sister not be able to speak Spanish. By the way, Billy told - me you were going to remain up in the hills quite a while yet. What - brought you back to town so soon?” - </p> - <p> - “Expected I'd have some freight arriving shortly: besides, I - wanted to make certain the title to Bill's property didn't - have any flaws in it.” - </p> - <p> - “How long will you remain in Buenaventura?” Considering the - fact that he was no longer subject to temptation, since the object of his - temptation was now definitely promised to his friend Billy, Webster - suddenly decided to remain until the political atmosphere should be - cleared, although prior to his conversation with Dolores he had cherished - a definite plan to go back to the hills within forty-eight hours. He could - not suppress an ironic grin, despite the pain and misery of his - predicament, as he reflected how often, of late, he had made up his mind - to a definite course of action, only to change it promptly at some new - whim of fate. - </p> - <p> - “I'm going back,” he replied soberly, “after I - have kept my promise and introduced you to your brother in the government - palace. If I cannot introduce him to you there, the title to our mining - concession will be clouded, in which event it will not be necessary for - Billy or myself to fuss with it further.” - </p> - <p> - He related to her the information gleaned from her brother two days - previously. - </p> - <p> - “It's no use for an individual to fight a government despot in - courts controlled by the latter,” he concluded. “Your brother - must win and depose the Sarros; then with the title to the property - certified by the government as without a flaw, I may dare to spend fifty - thousand dollars developing it.” - </p> - <p> - “And if my brother doesn't win?” - </p> - <p> - “I may never have an opportunity to present you to him. We mustn't - be squeamish about this matter, Miss Ruey. If Ricardo doesn't turn - the trick, he may go the way of his father, unless he can manage to get - out of the country.” - </p> - <p> - She was silent a minute, digesting this grim alternative. “And you?” - she queried presently. “What will happen to you? As I understand it, - you are existing now under a temporary license.” - </p> - <p> - “I shall endeavour to leave also—with dignity. I can always - land a pretty good job back home, and wherever I'm superintendent - the next best job belongs to Billy. The Lord is our shepherd; we shall not - want.” - </p> - <p> - “As I understand it, then, Caliph, Ricardo hopes to win his - revolution when he strikes the first blow.” - </p> - <p> - “I think so. I dare say Ricardo hopes to take Sarros by surprise, - bottle the city garrison up in the <i>cuartel</i> and the government - palace and there besiege them. Having secured nominal control of a - seaport, he can import arms and ammunition; also he can recruit openly, - and at his leisure hunt down the outlying garrisons. The Sarros crowd - doesn't suspect his presence in Sobrante, and by a quick, savage - stroke he should be able to jerk this one-horse government up by the heels - in jig time—particularly since the citizenry feel no loyalty toward - the Sarros régime and are only kept in subjection through fear and lack of - a leader. I'm going to play Ricardo to win, if he isn't killed - in the opening row, for I'm certain he'll lead his men.” - </p> - <p> - “I dare say he is greatly like his father—not afraid to die - for his country,” she replied presently. “I am glad to be here - when he takes that risk.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, but you mustn't be here,” Webster protested. - </p> - <p> - “Why?” - </p> - <p> - “Because there'll be street fighting—probably of a - desperate character, and I understand your countrymen go rather war-mad - and do things not sanctioned by the Hague tribunal. If there's a - steamer in port at the time I'll put you aboard her until the issue - is decided. She'll have to remain in port because while the fighting - goes on she cannot load or discharge.” - </p> - <p> - “I could go to the American consulate,” she suggested. - </p> - <p> - “You could—but you'll not. That consul would give you up - to the first mob that called for you—and I'm not so certain - that even the sister of an archtraitor (for patriots and revolutionists - are always traitors when they lose) would be safe from the Sarros fury. - However, I'm going to see Ricardo tomorrow night and learn the - details of his plan of campaign; after that I'll be able to act - intelligently.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXII - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">R</span>ICARDO RUBY, with - Doctor Pacheco and Colonel Caraveo, were engaged in consultation when Jack - Webster, having left the Hotel Mateo via his bedroom window in order to - avoid possible espionage and made his way to El Buen Amigo on foot, was - announced by Mother Jenks. The three conspirators greeted him joyously, as - indeed they should, for his loyal friendship had thus far been one of - their principal bulwarks. - </p> - <p> - “Well,” Webster inquired, after greeting them and carefully - closing the door behind him, “here I am in Beunaventura, marking - time and, like Mr. Micawber, waiting for something to turn up.” - </p> - <p> - “You will not be required to wait long,” Colonel Caraveo - assured him. “Thanks to your kindly offices, the trap is already - baited.” - </p> - <p> - “Our friend Ruey has, since our first meeting, insisted on - dispensing with my consent when using me to promote his enterprises, - Colonel. Strange to say, I have been unable to berate him for his - impudence. I was down at Leber's warehouse this afternoon. You have - enough road-making tools consigned to me there to build a pretty fair - highway to the gates of the government palace, I should say. I hope you - have all pondered the result to me, an innocent bystander, if your enemies - should take a notion to open one of those cases of shovels.” - </p> - <p> - Colonel Caraveo favoured him with a benignant smile. “You forget, my - friend, that I am second in command in the Intelligence Department, and - that, during the absence of your particular friend Raoul Sarros, in New - Orleans, I am first in command. Since I already know what those cases - contain, naturally I shall not take the trouble to investigate.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, that's a comfort, Colonel.” - </p> - <p> - “You have investigated your mining concession, Webster?” - Ricardo Ruey asked. - </p> - <p> - “You bet.” - </p> - <p> - “What did you find?” - </p> - <p> - “A couple of millions in sight.” - </p> - <p> - Ricardo shook his head slowly. “It is not in sight, old man,” - he reminded Webster. “Without our aid—and you cannot have our - aid unless our revolution is successful, when you shall have it freely—your - millions are, most positively, not in sight. If you want those millions, - friend Webster, there is but one way to get them—and that is to - close your eyes and play our game to the limit.” - </p> - <p> - “It seems to me I've been showing a pretty willing spirit - right along—and that without being consulted in the matter, Rick:” - </p> - <p> - “You're one man in a million. I wonder if you'd go - further—about forty thousand dollars further, to be exact.” - </p> - <p> - “I might, but I never go it blind for a wad like that. What's - your trouble?” - </p> - <p> - “The revolution will fail if you decide to deny my request. I - realize I have the most amazing presumption to ask anything of you, and - yet I am moved to stake my all on your goodness of heart, having already - had ample evidence of that goodness. In other words, I am going to apply - the old principle of driving a willing horse to death. - </p> - <p> - “The individual in charge of the funds of the revolutionary junta in - New Orleans was murdered last night; the funds were deposited to his - credit as agent in a certain bank, and before the junta can obtain legal - possession of them again the psychological time for their use will have - passed. - </p> - <p> - “We have a steamer chartered, and two hundred men, whose business it - is to fight under any flag at five dollars gold per day and no questions - asked, are now marking time on the Isle of Pines, off the coast of Cuba, - waiting for our steamer to call for them and land them, with their rifles - and ammunition and six seventy-five-millimeter field-guns and some - rapid-fire Maxims, at San Bruno, some eighteen miles up the coast from - here. - </p> - <p> - “The guns and munitions are now in Tampa, having been shipped to our - agent there on sight draft, with bill of lading attached; the steamer is - chartered and en route to Tampa from Norfolk, Virginia, and we must pay - the owners ten thousand dollars the day she begins taking on her cargo, - and ten thousand dollars before she unloads it on lighters at San Bruno. - </p> - <p> - “We must also pay two hundred men one month's pay in advance—that - is, thirty thousand dollars; we cannot meet this expense and still take up - that sight draft now awaiting our attention in the bank at Tampa. - </p> - <p> - “In return for this favour to the provisional government of - Sobrante, you shall have the note of the provisional government, signed by - the provisional president, myself, and the provisional cabinet, Doctor - Pachecho, Colonel Caraveo, and two other gentlemen whom you will meet in - due course unless in the interim they should be killed. And as a bonus for - saving this country from a brutal dictator, who is pillaging its resources - for his personal profit, you shall have a deed of gift to that mining - concession you and your friend Geary are so desirous of working; also the - title shall be certified by the government and the Supreme Court of - Sobrante and absolutely secured to you against future aggression in the - event that the new régime should be overthrown at some future date. Also - you have my profound gratitude and that of my people.” - </p> - <p> - “Tell me your plan of campaign,” Webster suggested. - </p> - <p> - “In a secret rendezvous in the mountains I have one thousand picked - men—my father's veterans. They are armed with modern rifles - and machetes. The nitrate company, which has been suffering from heavy - export duties imposed by Sarros, would help us financially, I think, but - it is not well for a provisional government to begin by asking financial - favours of a huge foreign corporation; so, much to the surprise of their - local manager, to whom I have confided my plans, I have merely asked for - the loan of all the rolling stock of the railroad for one night. It will - be mobilized at San Miguel de Padua by next Saturday night; my troops will - arrive late the same afternoon and entrain at once. - </p> - <p> - “In the interim all telephone and telegraph communications with - Buenaventura will be severed. The night previous our steamer will have - discharged her cargo of men and munitions at San Bruno; a chain of - outposts will at once be established and all communication with the - capital will be shut off. - </p> - <p> - “On Saturday night, also, the Consolidated Fruit Company's - steamer <i>La Estrellita</i> will make port with thirty Americans in her - steerage. These men will be road-makers and miners imported by Mr. J. S. - Webster, and in order to make certain that they will come, you have - already ordered them by cable. I took the liberty of seeing to it that the - cable signed by you was sent to New Orleans several days ago, and as part - of the bluff of keeping all of your movements under surveillance, a copy - of this cablegram was furnished to the subordinate of our good Colonel - Caraveo, charged with reporting on your movements. We have arranged with - the port doctor to give <i>La Estrellita</i> a clean bill of health the - very night she arrives. Hence the ship's authorities will not be - suspicious, I hope, when we remove our men after dark and house them in - Leber's warehouse, where they will spend the night unpacking those - spades, picks, and shovels of yours and getting the factory grease off - them. - </p> - <p> - “At four o'clock in the morning various citizens of Sobrante, - with rebellion in their hearts, will begin to mobilize at Leber's - warehouse, where they will be issued rifles and ammunition and where they - will wait until the action is opened to the south by the detachment from - San Bruno, which, having marched from San Bruno the night before, will - have arrived outside, the city, and will be awaiting the signal from me. I - will attack from the west—cautiously. - </p> - <p> - “Now, there are five thousand government troops in the city and in - various cantonments on the outskirts. These cantonments are to be rushed - and set afire; I figure that the confusion of our sudden attack will - create a riot—particularly when I do something that isn't very - popular as a war feature down this way, and that is charge—and keep - on coming. Down this way, you know, Webster, a battle consists in a - horrible wastage of ammunition at long range, and casualties of three - killed and twelve wounded. The good, old-fashioned charge isn't to - their liking; they hate cold steel. - </p> - <p> - “These government troops will start to fall back on the city, only - to find themselves flanked by a fierce artillery fire from the San Bruno - contingent; the troops from the arsenal, the Guards at the palace and the - Fifteenth Regiment of Infantry, now stationed at the Cuartel de - Infanteria, next the government palace, will be dispatched post haste to - repulse the attack, and four hundred men, with the machine-gun company - waiting in Leber's warehouse, will promptly move upon them from the - rear and capture the arsenal. There are a few thousand rifles and a lot of - ammunition stored there; I miss my guess if, as soon as the news of its - capture by the rebels spreads through the city (and I shall have men to - spread it), I shall not have a few thousand volunteers eager to help - overthrow Sarros. - </p> - <p> - “When the government troops find themselves under the kind of - shell-fire I've prepared for them, and with machine guns and Maxims - playing on them, in close formation from the rear, they'll surrender - in droves—if they live to surrender. - </p> - <p> - “Once cut off from the arsenal and the palace, Sarros must fight his - way out of the city in order to have the slightest chance to suppress the - rebellion, for he will have no refuge in the city. And with the railroad - and all the rolling stock in our hands, without a commissary for his - troops, without a base of supplies, even should the government troops - fight their way through, they leave the city in my hands and I'll - recruit and arm my men and hunt them down like jack-rabbits at my leisure. - Once let the arsenal and the palace fall into my hands, once let me - proclaim myself provisional president, once let the people know that - Ricardo Ruey, the Beloved, lives again in the person of his son, and I - tell you, Webster, this country is saved.” - </p> - <p> - “You lead the army from San Miguel de Padua, Ricardo. Who leads the - detachment from San Bruno?” - </p> - <p> - “Colonel Caraveo.” - </p> - <p> - “And the machine-gun company from Leber's warehouse?” - </p> - <p> - “Doctor Pacheco. How do you like my plan of campaign?” - </p> - <p> - “It couldn't be any better if I had planned it myself. You - might accept my suggestion and armour that little motor truck of mine. It - arrived on yesterday's steamer.” - </p> - <p> - “And some armour sheet steel with it—sheet steel already - loopholed for the barrels of the two machine guns it will carry!” - Doctor Pacheco cried joyously. - </p> - <p> - “Have you provided a chauffeur, Doctor?” - </p> - <p> - “I have—likewise an armoured sheet-steel closet for him to sit - in while chauffeuring.” - </p> - <p> - “Don't forget the oil and gasoline,” Webster cautioned - him quizzically. - </p> - <p> - “How about that loan to the provisional government?” Ricardo - demanded pointedly. - </p> - <p> - Webster did not hesitate. After all, what was money to him now? Moreover, - he was between the devil and the deep sea, as it were. Billy had gone - away, his hopes raised high, already a millionaire after the fashion of - mining men, who are ever ready to count their chicks before they are - hatched, provided only they see the eggs. Besides, there was Dolores. Full - well Webster realized that Billy, tossed back once more into the jaws of - the well-known wolf of poverty, would not have the courage upon his return - to Sobrante to ask Dolores to share his poverty with him; should the - revolution fail, Ricardo Ruey would be an outcast, a hunted man with a - price on his head, and in no position to care for his sister, even should - he survive long enough to know he had a sister. Webster thought of her—so - sweet, so winsome, so brave and trusting, so worthy of all that the world - might hold for her of sweetness and comfort. She would be alone in the - world if he, John Stuart Webster, failed her now—more than ever she - needed a man's strength and affection to help her navigate the - tide-rips of life, for life to a woman, alone and unprotected and - dependent upon her labour for the bread she must eat, must contain, at - best, a full measure of terror and despair and loneliness. He pictured her - through a grim processional of years of skimping and petty sacrifices—and - all because he, John Stuart Webster, had hesitated to lend a dreamer and - an idealist a paltry forty thousand dollars without security. - </p> - <p> - No, there was no alternative. As they say in Mexico, Ricardo had him <i>tiron</i>, - meaning there was no escape. If his friendship for Billy was worth a sou, - it was worth forty thousand dollars; if his silent, unrequited love for - Dolores Ruey was worthy of her, no sacrifice on his part could be too - great, provided it guaranteed her happiness. - </p> - <p> - “Ruined again,” he sighed. “This is only another of - those numerous occasions when the tail goes with the hide. How soon do you - want the money?” - </p> - <p> - Ricardo Luiz Ruey leaned forward and gazed very earnestly at John Stuart - Webster. “Do you really trust me that much, my friend?” he - asked feelingly. “Remember, I am asking you for forty thousand - dollars on faith.” - </p> - <p> - “Old sport,” John Stuart Webster answered, “you went - overboard in Buenaventura harbour and took a chance among those big, - liver-coloured, hammerheaded sharks. And you did that because you had a - cause you thought worth dying for. I never knew a man who had a cause that - was worth dying for who would even espouse a cause worth swindling for. - You win—only I want you to understand one thing, Ricardo: I'm - not doing this for the sake of saving that mining concession the Sarros - government gave my friend Geary. I'm above doing a thing like this - for money—for myself. It seems to me I must do it to guarantee the - happiness of two people I love: my friend Geary and the girl he's - going to marry. I reject your promissory note and your promise of a deed - of gift for that concession, and accept only your gratitude. There are no - strings to this loan, because it isn't a loan at all. It's a - bet. If you lose, I'll help you get out of the country and absolve - you of any indebtedness to me. We'll just make a new book and start - making bets all over again, Rick. However, if you should win, I know you'll - reimburse me from the national treasury.” - </p> - <p> - “And you do not desire a bonus?” - </p> - <p> - “Nothing that will cost the citizens of this country one penny of - their heritage. I'm going to bet this money—bet it, - understand, not loan it, because a loan predicates repayment at some - future date, and for the sake of my self-respect as a business man I'd - hate to make a bum loan of that magnitude on no security. However, if you - want to be a sport and grant me a little favour in return, you can.” - </p> - <p> - “Name it, friend.” - </p> - <p> - “As soon as you have been recognized by the United States, I want - you to have your ambassador in Washington make representations to my - government that the present American consul in Sobrante is not acceptable - to your government. That fellow is a disgrace to my native land and I want - him fired.” - </p> - <p> - “It shall be my first official act after freeing my country from a - tyrant's yoke.” - </p> - <p> - “Another little favour also, Ricardo.” This time Webster spoke - in English. - </p> - <p> - “Eire away.” - </p> - <p> - “After I give you this money, I don't want the Doctor and the - Colonel to kiss me to show how grateful they are.” - </p> - <p> - “You wonderful fellow! Jack Webster, if I had a sister I should want - her to marry you.” - </p> - <p> - “Shows how little you'd think of your sister—staking her - to a sentimental jackass. Shall I cable the money to New Orleans in the - morning? I have a letter of credit for my entire bank-roll, and I can give - a draft at the Banco Nacional, and have them cable a New Orleans bank.” - </p> - <p> - “That will do very nicely.” - </p> - <p> - “To whom shall I cable the money?” - </p> - <p> - “Send it to the Picayune National Bank of New Orleans, with - instructions to credit account Number 246, J. E. P., trustee. In this - little game we are playing, my friend, it is safer to deal in numbers and - initials rather than names. The local cable office leaks quite regularly.” - </p> - <p> - “Very well, Ricardo, I'll attend to it first thing in the - morning. Where are you going to armour that motor truck?” - </p> - <p> - “If you'll have it run over to the nitrate company's - machine shop at the railway terminus the foreman there will attend to the - job and keep the truck under cover until Friday night, when they'll - run it back to Leber's warehouse for the machine guns Sunday - morning.” - </p> - <p> - “Is Leber in on this deal?” - </p> - <p> - “He is not. What Leber doesn't know will not worry him. He - doesn't live in his warehouse, you know. We're just going to - take possession after dark, when the water-front is absolutely deserted. - There's a concert on the Malecon that night, and everybody who can - ride or walk will be out there listening to it.” - </p> - <p> - Webster nodded his approval of Ricardo's clever plans. “All - right, old man, go to it and win, or there'll be several new faces - whining around the devil, not the least of which will be mine. When you - charge, remember you're charging for my forty thousand dollars—and - go through with it. I worked rather hard for that forty thousand, and if I - must lose it, I do not want to do it in a half-hearted fight. Give me, at - least, a bloody run for my money. I'll have a reserved seat - somewhere watching the game.” - </p> - <p> - “If you'll take my advice, you'll go aboard <i>La - Estrellita</i> and stay there until the issue is decided. When the first - gun is fired, it signals the open season on mining engineers who butt in - on affairs of state.” - </p> - <p> - “What! And me with a healthy bet down on the result! I hope I'm - a better sport than that.” - </p> - <p> - “You're incorrigible. Be careful, then, and don't get - yourself potted by a stray bullet. When these brownies of mine get - excited, they shoot at every head in sight.” - </p> - <p> - “Shall I see you fellows before the blow-off?” - </p> - <p> - “I scarcely think so.” - </p> - <p> - “Then if you're through with me, I'll bid you all - good-bye and good luck. I'll have dinner with you in the palace - Sunday evening.” - </p> - <p> - “Taken.” - </p> - <p> - “May I bring a guest?” - </p> - <p> - “By all means.” - </p> - <p> - Webster shook hands with the trio and departed for his hotel. For the - first time in many years he was heavy of heart, crushed. “Neddy - Jerome was right,” he soliloquized. “This is the last place on - earth for me to have come to. I've made Neddy sore on me, and he's - lost patience and put another man in the job he promised me; I've - raised Billy's hopes sky-high and had to bet forty thousand dollars - to keep them there; I've been fool enough to fall in love with my - friend's fiancée; I'm a human cat's-paw, and the finest - thing I can do now is to go out next Sunday morning with that machine-gun - company from Leber's warehouse and get killed. And I would, too, in - a holy second, if killing a dozen of these spiggoties were part of a - mining engineer's business. I just don't belong in this - quarrel and I cannot kill for pleasure or profit. All I get out of this - deal is gratitude and empty honour, where I dreamed of love and a home in - my old age. John Stuart Webster, the family friend! Well, after all, it - isn't every old sour-dough that has an opportunity to be a - liberator, and even if I have lost Dolores, I have this melancholy - satisfaction: I have a rattling good chance of getting that scrubby - American consul.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXIII - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE following - morning Webster informed Dolores fully of his interview with her brother - and his confrères the night before, concealing from her only the fact that - he was financing the revolution and his reasons for financing it. He was - still depressed, and Dolores, observing his mood, forbore to intrude upon - it. Intuitively she realized that when a man is worried and harassed by - matters he cannot or dares hot divulge, he dislikes being talked to, but - prefers to be alone and wrestle with them in silence. Accordingly she - claimed the prerogative of her sex—a slight headache—and - retreated to her room, In the privacy of which she was suddenly very much - surprised to find herself weeping softly because John Stuart Webster was - unhappy and didn't deserve to be. - </p> - <p> - It was impossible, however, for Webster long to remain impervious to the - note of ridiculousness underlying the forthcoming tragic events. Here was - a little two-by-four poverty-stricken hot-bed of ignorance and intrigue - calling itself a republic, a little stretch of country no larger than a - couple of big western counties, about to indulge in the national pastime - of civil war and unable to do it except by grace of an humble citizen of a - sister republic! - </p> - <p> - Five thousand ignorant, ill-equipped, ill-drilled semi-brigands calling - themselves soldiers, entrusted with the task of enabling one of their - number to ride, horse and dog, over a million people! - </p> - <p> - How farcical! No wonder Ricardo, with his northern viewpoint, approached - his patriotic task with gayety, almost with contempt. And when Webster - recalled that the about-to-be-born provisional government had casually - borrowed from him the sum of forty thousand dollars in order to turn the - trick—borrowing it, forsooth, in much the same spirit as a commuter - boarding his train without the necessary fare hails a neighbour and - borrows ten cents—his natural optimism asserted itself and he - chuckled as in fancy he heard himself telling the story to Neddy Jerome - and being branded a liar for his pains. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I've had one comfort ever since I first saw that girl,” - he reflected philosophically. “While I've never been so - unhappy in all my life before, or had to tear my soul out by the roots so - often, things have been coming my way so fast from other directions that I - haven't had much opportunity to dwell on the matter. And for these - compensating offsets, good Lord, I thank thee.” - </p> - <p> - He was John Stuart Webster again when Dolores saw him next; during the - succeeding days his mood of cheerfulness and devil-may-care indifference - never left him. And throughout that period of marking time Dolores was - much in his society, a condition which he told himself was not to his - liking but which, nevertheless, he could not obviate without seeming - indifferent to her happiness. And to permit his friend's fiancee to - languish in loneliness and heart-break did not appear to John Stuart - Webster as the part of a true friend or a courtly gentleman—and he - remembered that she had once called him that. - </p> - <p> - They rode together in the cool of the morning; they drove together on the - Malecon in the cool of the evening; chaperoned by Don Juan Cafetéro and a - grinning Sobrantean, they went shark-fishing in Leber's launch; they - played dominoes together; they discussed, throughout the long, lazy, quiet - afternoons, when the remainder of their world retired for the siesta, - books, art, men, women, and things. - </p> - <p> - And not once, throughout those two weeks of camaraderie, did the - heart-racked Webster forget for a single instant that he was the new - friend, destined to become the old friend; never, to the girl's - watchful eyes, did he betray the slightest disposition to establish their - friendly relations on a closer basis. - </p> - <p> - Thus did the arrival of The Day find them. Toward sunset they rode out - together along the bay shore and noted far out to sea the smear of smoke - that marked the approach of La Estrellita—on schedule time. As they - jogged homeward in the dusk, her red and green side-lights were visible as - she crept into the harbour; above the sobbing murmur of the Caribbean - wavelets they heard the scream of her winches and the rattle of chain as - her anchor bit the bottom. - </p> - <p> - “You will go aboard her to-night,” Webster said very quietly - to Dolores. - </p> - <p> - “And you?” - </p> - <p> - “I shall go aboard with you. I have arranged with Don Juan for him - to stay ashore and to come out in Leber's launch with the first - reliable news of the conflict. If Ricardo wins the city, he wins the - revolution, and you and I will then go ashore—to dine with him in - the palace. If he loses the city, he loses the revolution, and we will - both do well to remain aboard <i>La Estrellita</i>.” - </p> - <p> - “And in that event, what will become of my brother?” - </p> - <p> - “I do not know; I forgot to ask him, but if he survives, I imagine - he'll have sense enough to know he's whipped and will retreat - on San Bruno, fighting a rear-guard action, embark aboard the steamer that - brought his men there, and escape.” - </p> - <p> - “But he has so few men,” she quavered. - </p> - <p> - “Two hundred of them are white soldiers of fortune—and you - must remember how Walker manhandled Nicaragua with that number of men.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm worried about Mother Jenks.” - </p> - <p> - “I have asked Mother Jenks to dine with us at seven-thirty this - evening, and have ordered a carriage to call for her. When she comes I'll - tell her everything; then, if she wishes to stay ashore, let her. She's - been through more than one such fracas and doesn't mind them at all, - I dare say.” - </p> - <p> - And in this Webster was right. Mother Jenks listened in profound silence, - nodding her approval, as Webster related to her the story of the advent in - the country of Ricardo Ruey and his plans, but without revealing the - identity of Andrew Bowers. - </p> - <p> - At the conclusion of his recital the old publican merely said: “Gor' - bli' me!” - </p> - <p> - After a silence she added: “My sainted 'Enery used to s'y - the proper hodds for a white man in a bally row o' this nature was - forty to one. 'The spiggoty,' says 'e, shoots from - 'is 'ip, but the wisitin' brother's spent 'is - 'prenticeship at the butts some-w'ere or other an' - 'as bloomin' well learned to sight an' 'old his - breath 'arf in an' 'arf out when 'e pulls. Gor', - but how my sainted 'Enery would henjoy bein' 'ere this - night to 'elp with the guns.” She sighed. - </p> - <p> - “How about a little bottle of wine to drink peace to your sainted - Henry and luck to The Cause?” Webster suggested. - </p> - <p> - “That's wot I calls talkin',” Mother Jenks - responded promptly, and Webster, gazing reflectively at the old lady's - beard, wondered why she had not been born a man. - </p> - <p> - Dolores, fearful for her benefactor's safety, urged Mother Jenks to - accompany them out aboard <i>La Estrellita</i>, but the old dame - indignantly refused, and when pressed for a reason gave it with the utmost - frankness: “They'll be tykin' Sarros, an' when - they tyke 'im they'll back him ag'in the same wall he - backed my sainted 'Enery and your father against, my dear. I've - a notion that your father's son 'll let Mrs. Colonel 'Enery - Jenks come to the party.” - </p> - <p> - At ten o'clock Webster accompanied Mother Jenks home in the - carriage, which he dismissed at El Buen Amigo—with instructions to - return to the hotel while he continued afoot down the Calle San Rosario to - the bay, where Leber's huge corrugated-iron warehouse loomed darkly - above high-water mark. If there was light within, it was not visible, but - Webster, pausing and listening at one corner of the great structure, could - hear the confused murmur of many voices, with an occasional hearty oath in - English rising above the murmur. - </p> - <p> - He slipped along in the deep shadow of the warehouse wall and out on the - end of the little dock, where he satisfied himself that Leber's - launch was at its moorings; then he went back to the warehouse and - whistled softly, whereupon a man crawled out from under the structure and - approached him. It was Don Juan Cafetéro. - </p> - <p> - “They're all inside,” he whispered and laid finger on - lip. “A lad came down at eight o'clock, took Leber's - launch an' wint out to the steamer afther thim. They got in half an - hour ago, an' divil a sowl the wiser save meself.” - </p> - <p> - “Thank you, John. Now that I know the coast is clear and the launch - ready, I'll go back to the hotel for Miss Ruey.” - </p> - <p> - “Very well, sor,” Don Juan replied, and crawled back under the - warehouse. - </p> - <p> - Half an hour later the sound of hoofbeats warned him of the approach of - Webster and Dolores in a carriage, and he came forth, loaded in the launch - such baggage as they had been enabled to bring, and held the gunwale of - the boat while his passengers stepped aboard. - </p> - <p> - While Don Juan cast off the painter, Webster primed the motor and turned - it over; with a snort it started, and under Webster's guidance the - launch backed swiftly out into the bay, where Don Juan lighted the - side-lights and riding-light, and loafed off into the darkness. - </p> - <p> - About a half a mile off shore Webster throttled down the motor until the - launch barely made steerage way. “It would never do to go aboard the - steamer <i>before</i> the fracas started ashore,” he explained to - Dolores. “That would indicate a guilty knowledge of coming events, - and in the event of disaster to the rebel arms it is just possible Senor - Sarros might have pull enough, if he hears of our flight six hours in - advance of hostilities, to take us off the steamer and ask us to explain. - So we'll just cruise slowly around and listen; the attack will come - just before dawn; then shortly thereafter we can scurry out to the steamer - and be welcomed aboard for the sake of the news we bring.” - </p> - <p> - She did not answer, and Webster knew her thoughts were out where the - arc-lights on the outskirts of Buenaventura met the open country—out - where the brother she could scarcely remember and whom, until a month - previous, she had believed dead, would shortly muster his not too numerous - followers. - </p> - <p> - In the darkness Webster could hear the click of her beads as she prayed; - on the turtle deck forward. - </p> - <p> - Don Juan Cafetéro sprawled, thinking perchance of his unlovely past and - wondering what effect the events shortly to transpire ashore would have on - his future. He wished Webster would relent and offer him a drink some time - within the next twenty-four hours. In times of excitement like the present - a man needs a drop to brace him up. - </p> - <p> - Five times the launch slipped lazily down the harbour along the straggling - two mile water-front; five times it loafed back. The moon, which was in - the first quarter, sank. For the hundredth time Don Juan Cafetéro chanted - dolorously “The Death of Sarsfield” and the tuneful glories of - the late O'Donnel Abu—and then to Webster's alert ear - there floated across the still waters the sound of a gentle purring—the - music of an auto-truck. He set the launch in toward Leber's little - dock, and presently they saw the door of Leber's warehouse open. Men - with lanterns streamed forth, lighting the way for others who bore between - them heavy burdens. - </p> - <p> - “They're emplacing the machine guns in the motor-truck,” - he whispered to Dolores. “We will not have to wait long now. It's - nearly four o'clock.” - </p> - <p> - Again they backed out into the bay until they could see far out over the - sleeping city to the hills beyond in the west. Presently along the side of - those hills the headlight of a locomotive crept, dropping swiftly down - grade until it disappeared in the lowlands. - </p> - <p> - A half-hour passed; then to the south of the city a rocket flared skyward; - almost instantly another flared from the west, followed presently by a - murmur, scarcely audible, as of a muffled snare drum, punctuated presently - by a louder, sharper, insistent <i>puck-puch-puch-puch</i> that, had - Webster but known it, was the bark of a Maxim-Vickers rapid-fire gun - throwing a stream of shells into the cantonments of the government troops - on the fringe of the city. - </p> - <p> - Webster's pulse quickened. He was possessed of that feeling which - actuates a small boy to follow the fire-engines. “There goes the - 'tillery to the south, sor,” Don Juan called, and even as he - spoke, a shell burst gloriously over the government palace, the white - walls of which were already looming over the remainder of the city, now - faintly visible in the approaching dawn. - </p> - <p> - “That was to awaken our friend Sarros,” Webster cried. “I'll - bet a buffalo nickel that woke the old horsethief up. There's - another—and another.” The uproar swelled, the noise gradually - drifting around the city from west to south, forming, seemingly, a - semicircle of sound. “The government troops are up and doing now,” - Webster observed, and speeded up his motor. “I think it high time we - played the part of frightened refugees. When that machine-gun company with - its infantry escort starts up through the city from Leber's - warehouse it may encounter early opposition—and I've heard - that Mauser bullets kill at three miles. Some strays may drop out here in - the bay.” - </p> - <p> - He speeded the launch toward <i>La Estrellita</i>, and as the craft - scraped in alongside the great steamer's companion landing, her - skipper ran down the ladder to greet them and inquire eagerly of the trend - of events ashore. - </p> - <p> - “We left in a hurry the instant it started,” Webster - explained. “As Americans, we didn't figure we had any interest - in that scrap, either way.” He handed Dolores out on the landing - stage, tossed their baggage after her and followed; Don Juan took the - wheel, and the launch slid out and left them there. - </p> - <p> - At the head of the companion ladder Webster paused and turned for another - look at Buenaventura. To the west three great fires now threw a lurid - light skyward, mocking an equally lurid light to the east, that marked the - approach of daylight. He smiled. “Those are the cantonment barracks - burning,” he whispered to Dolores. “Ricardo is keeping his - word. He's driving the rats back into their own holes.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXIV - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE weeks of clean - living, of abstention from his wonted daily alcoholic ration, had inspired - in Don Juan Cafetéro a revival of his all but defunct interest in life; - conversely, in these stirring times, he was sensible of an equally acute - interest in Sobrantean politics, for he was Irish; and flabby indeed is - that son of the Green Little Isle who, wherever he may be, declines to - take a hand in any public argument. For the love of politics, like the - love of home, is never dead in the Irish. It is instinct with them—the - heritage, perhaps, of centuries of oppression and suppression, which - nurtures rather than stifles the yearning for place and power. Now as Don - Juan turned Leber's launch shoreward and kicked the motor wide open, - he, too, descried against the dawn the glare of the burning cantonments - west of the city, and at the sight his pulse beat high with the lust of - battle, the longing to be in at the death in this struggle, where the - hopes and aspirations of those he loved were at stake. - </p> - <p> - Two months previously a revolution would have been a matter of extreme - indifference to Don Juan; he would have reflected that it was merely the - outs trying to get in, and that if they succeeded, the sole benefit to the - general public would be the privilege of paying the bill. It was all very - well, perhaps, to appoint a new <i>jefe politico</i>, if only for the sake - of diversion, but new or old they “jugged” or booted Don Juan - Cafetéro impartially from time to time; the lowliest peon could shoulder - the derelict off the narrow sidewalks, while the policeman on the beat - looked on and grinned. Consequently, drunk or sober, Don Juan would not - have fought with or for a Sobrantean, since he knew from experience that - either line of activity was certain to prove unprofitable. To-day, - however, in the knowledge that he had an opportunity to fight beside white - men and perchance even up some old scores with the <i>Guardia Civil</i>, - it occurred suddenly to Don Juan that it would be a brave and virtuous act - to cast his lot with the Ruey forces. He was a being reorganized and - rebuilt, and it behooved him to do something to demonstrate his manhood. - </p> - <p> - Don Juan knew, of course, that should the rebels lose and he be captured, - he would be executed; yet this contingency seemed a far-fetched one, in - view of the fact that he had John Stuart Webster at his back, ready to - finance his escape from the city. Also Don Juan had had an opportunity, in - the hills above San Miguel de Padua, for a critical study of Ricardo Ruey - and had come to the conclusion that at last a real man had come to - liberate Sobrante; further, Don Juan had had ocular evidence that John - Stuart Webster was connected with the revolution, for had he not smuggled - Ruey into the country? It was something to be the right-hand man of the - president of a rich little country like Sobrante; it was also something to - be as close to that right-hand man as Don Juan was to his master, Webster; - consequently self-interest and his sporting code whispered to Don Juan - that it behooved him to demonstrate his loyalty with every means at his - command, even unto his heart's blood. - </p> - <p> - “Who knows,” he cogitated as the launch bore him swiftly - shoreward, “but what I'll acquit meself with honour and get a - fine job undher the new administhration? 'Tis the masther's - fight, I'm thinkin'; then, be the same token, 'tis John - Joseph Cafferty's, win, lose or dhraw; an' may the divil damn - me if I fail him afther what he's done for me. Sure, if Gineral Ruey - wins, a crook av the masther's finger will make me <i>jefe 'politico</i>. - An' if he does—hoo-roo! Hoo-ray!” - </p> - <p> - With his imagination still running riot, Don Juan made the launch fast to - the little dock, down which, he ran straight for the warehouse, where the - Ruey mercenaries were still congregated, busily wiping the factory-grease - from the weapons which had just been distributed to them from the - packing-cases. A sharp voice halted him, he paused, panting, to find - himself looking down the long blue barrel of a service pistol. - </p> - <p> - “Who are you, and what are you doing here?” the man behind the - weapon demanded brusquely. - </p> - <p> - “I'm Private John J. Cafferty, the latest recruit to the Ruey - army,” Don Juan answered composedly. “Who did ye think I was? - Private secreth'ry to that divil Sarros? Man, dear, lower that gun - av yours, for God knows I'm nervous enough as it is. Have ye - somethin' ye could give me to fight wit,' avic?” - </p> - <p> - The man who had challenged him—a lank, swarthy individual from the - Mexican border—looked him over with twinkling eyes. “You'll - do, Cafferty, old-timer,” he drawled, “and if you don't, - you'll wish you had. There's a man for every rifle just now, - but I wouldn't be surprised if there'd be a right smart more - rifles than men before a great while. Help yourself to the gun o' - the first man that goes down; in the meantime, hop into that there truck - and keep the cartridge belt for the machine guns full up. You're - just in time.” - </p> - <p> - Without further ado Don Juan climbed into the truck. A little citadel of - sheet steel had been built around the driver's seat, with a narrow - slit in front through which the latter peered out. The body of the truck - had been boxed in with the same material and housed two machine guns, - emplaced, and a crew of half a dozen men crouched on the floor, busily - engaged in loading the belts. Four motor bicycles, with sturdy, specially - built side-cars attached, and a machine gun in each side-car, were waiting - near by, together with a half-dozen country carts loaded with ammunition - cases and drawn by horses. - </p> - <p> - “How soon do we start?” Don Juan demanded anxiously, as he - crowded in beside one of his newfound comrades. - </p> - <p> - “I believe,” this individual replied in the unmistakable - accents of an Oxford man, “that the plan is to wait until five o'clock; - by that time all the government troops that can be spared from the arsenal - and palace will have been dispatched to the fighting now taking place west - of the city. Naturally, the government forces aren't anticipating an - attack from the rear, and so they will, in all probability, weaken their - base. I believe that eases our task; certainly it will save us many men.” - </p> - <p> - Don Juan nodded his entire approval to this shrewd plan of campaign and - fell to stuffing cartridges in the web belting, the while he whistled - softly, unmusically, and with puffing, hissing sounds between his snaggle - teeth, until a Sobrantean gentleman (it was Doctor Pacheco) came out of - the warehouse and gave the order to proceed. - </p> - <p> - They moved out silently, the Sobrantean rebels falling into line behind - the auto-truck, the motorcycle battery, and the transport-carts, all of - which were in charge of the machine gun company. They marched along the - water-front for four blocks and then turned up a side street, which - happened to be the Calle de Concordia, thus enabling Mother Jenks, who was - peering from the doorway of El Buen Amigo, to see them coming. - </p> - <p> - “Hah!” she muttered. “'Enery, they're cornin'. - The worm is turnin', 'Enery; fifteen years you've wyted - for vengeance, my love, but to-d'y you'll get it.” - </p> - <p> - She waddled out into the street and held up her hand in a gesture as - authoritative and imperious as that of a traffic officer. “Batter-r-ry - 'alt!” she croaked. She had heard the late 'Enery give - that command often enough to have acquired the exact inflection necessary - to make an impression upon men accustomed to obeying such a command - whenever given. Instinctively the column slowed up; some of the Foreign - Legion, old coast-artillerists, no doubt, came to a halt with promptness - and precision; all stared at Mother Jenks. - </p> - <p> - “Ow about 'arf a dozen cases o' good brandy for the - wounded?” Mother Jenks suggested. “An' 'ow about a - bally old woman for a Red Cross nurse?” - </p> - <p> - “You're on, ma'am,” the foreign leader replied - promptly, and translated the old lady's suggestion to Doctor - Pacheco, who accepted gracefully and thanked Mother Jenks in purest - Castilian. So a detail of six men was told off to carry the six cases of - brandy out of El Buen Amigo and load them on the ammunition carts; then - Mother Jenks crawled up into the armoured truck with the machine-gun crew, - and the column once more took up its line of rapid march. - </p> - <p> - The objective of this unsuspected force within the city was, as Ricardo - Ruey shrewdly suspected it might be, poorly garrisoned. Usually a force of - fully five hundred men was stationed at the national arsenal, but the - sharp, savage attack from the west, so sudden and unexpected, had thrown - Sarros into a panic and left him no time to plan his defence carefully. - His first thought had been to send all his available forces to support the - troops bearing the brunt of the rebel attack, and it was tremendously - important that this should be done very promptly, in view of the lack of - information concerning the numerical force of the enemy; consequently he - had reduced the arsenal force to one hundred men and retained only his - favorite troop of the Guards and one company of the Fifteenth Infantry to - protect the palace. - </p> - <p> - Acting under hastily given telephonic orders, the commanding officer at - the cantonment barracks had detailed a few hundred men to fight a - rear-guard action while the main army fell back in good order behind a - railway embankment which swept in a wide arc around the city and offered - an excellent substitute for breastworks. This position had scarcely been - attained before the furious advance of the rebels drove in the rear guard, - and pending the capture of the arsenal, Ricardo realized his operations - were at an <i>impasse</i>. Promptly he dug himself in, and the battle - developed into a brisk affair of give and take, involving meagre losses to - both factions but an appalling wastage of ammunition. - </p> - <p> - The arsenal, a large, modern concrete building with tremendously thick - walls reinforced by steel, would have offered fairly good resistance to - the average field battery. Surrounding it on all four sides was a - reinforced concrete wall thirty feet high, with machine-gun bastions at - each corner and a platform along the wall, inside and twenty-five feet - from the ground, which afforded foot room for infantry which could use the - top five feet of the wall for protection while firing over it. There was - but one entrance, a heavy, barred steel gate which was always kept locked - when it was not necessary to have it opened for ingress or egress. Given - warning of an attack and with sufficient time to prepare for it, one - hundred of the right sort of fighting men could withstand an indefinite - siege by a force not provided with artillery heavier than an ordinary - field gun. With a full realization of this, therefore, Ricardo and his - confrères had designed to accomplish by strategy that which could not be - done by the limited forces at their command. - </p> - <p> - The tread of marching men, the purr of the motorcycles and the armoured - truck, during the progress of the invaders up the Calle de Concordia, - aroused the dwellers in that thoroughfare. Those who appeared in their' - doorways, however, as promptly disappeared upon recognizing this - indubitable evidence of local disturbance. As the column approached the - neighbourhood of the arsenal, three detachments broke away from the main - body and disappeared down side streets, to turn at right angles later and - march parallel with the main command. Each of these detachments was - accompanied by one unit of the motorcycle-mounted machine-gun battery with - its white crew; two blocks beyond the arsenal square each detachment - leader so disposed his men as to offer spirited resistance to any sortie - that might be made by the troops from the palace in the hope of driving - off the attackers of the arsenal. - </p> - <p> - Having thus provided for protection during its operations, the main body - nominally under Doctor Pacheco but in reality commanded by the chief of - the machine-gun company, proceeded to operate. With the utmost assurance - in the world the armoured truck rolled down the street to the arsenal - entrance, swung in and pointed its impudent nose straight at the iron bars - while the hidden chauffeur called loudly and profanely in Spanish upon the - sentry to open the gate and let him in—that there was necessity for - great hurry, since he had been sent down from the palace by the <i>présidente</i> - himself, for machine guns to equip this armoured motor-car. The sentry - immediately called the officer of the guard, who peered out, observed - nothing but the motor-truck, which seemed far from dangerous, and without - further ado inserted a huge key in the lock and turned the bolt. The - sentry swung the double gates ajar, and with a prolonged and raucous toot - of its horn the big car loafed in. The sentry closed the gate again, while - the officer stepped up to turn the key in the lock. Instead, he died with - half a dozen pistol bullets through his body, while the sentry sprawled - beside him. - </p> - <p> - The prolonged toot of the motor-horn had been the signal agreed upon to - apprise the detachment waiting in a secluded back street that the truck - was inside the arsenal wall. With a yell they swept out of the side street - and down on the gate, through which they poured into the arsenal grounds. - At sound of the first shot at the gate, the <i>comandante</i> of the - garrison, which had been drawn up in double rank for reveille roll call, - realized he was attacked and that swift measures were necessary. - Fortunately for him, his men were standing at attention at the time, - preparatory to receiving from him one of those ante-battle exhortations so - dear to the Latin soul. - </p> - <p> - A sharp command, and the little garrison had fixed bayonets; another - command, and they were in line of squads; before the auto-truck could be - swung sideways to permit a machine gun to play on the Sobranteans in close - formation, the latter had thrown out a skirmish fine and were charging; - while from the guardhouse window, just inside the gate, a volley, poured - into the unprotected rear of the truck following its passage through the - gate, did deadly execution. The driver, a bullet through his back, sagged - forward into his steel-clad citadel; both machine-gun operators were - wounded, and the truck was stalled. The situation was desperate. - </p> - <p> - “I'm a gone goose,” mourned Don Juan Cafetéro, and he - leaped from the shambles to the ground, with some hazy notion of making - his escape through the gate. He was too late. Two men, riding tandem on a - motorcycle with a machine gun in the specially constructed side-car, - appeared in the entrance and leaped off; almost before Don Juan had time - to dodge behind the motor-truck to escape possible wild bullets, the - machine gun was sweeping the oncoming skirmish line. Don Juan cheered as - man after man of the garrison pitched on his face, for the odds were - rapidly being evened now, greatly to the pleasure of the men charging - through the gate to support the machine gun. Out into the arsenal yard - they swept, forcing the machine-gun crew to cease firing because of the - danger of killing their own men; with a shock bayonet met bayonet in the - centre of the yard, and the issue was up for prompt and final decision. - </p> - <p> - Don Juan's Hibernian blood thrilled; he cast about for a weapon in - this emergency, and his glance rested on the body of the dead officer - beside the gate. To possess himself of the latter's heavy “cut-and-thrust” - sword was the work of seconds, and with a royal good will Don Juan - launched himself into the heart of the scrimmage. He had a hazy impression - that he was striking and stabbing, that others were striking and stabbing - at him, that men crowded and breathed and pressed and swore and grunted - around him, that the fighting-room was no better than it might have been - but was rapidly improving. Then the gory fog lifted, and Doctor Pacheco - had Don Juan by the hand; they stood together in the arsenal entrance, and - the little Doctor was explaining to the war-mad Don Juan that all was over - in so far as the arsenal was concerned—the survivors of the garrison - having surrendered—that now, having the opportunity, he, Doctor - Pacheco, desired to thank Don Juan Cafetéro for his life. Don Juan looked - at him amazedly, for he hadn't the slightest idea what the Doctor - was talking about. He spat, gazed around at the litter of corpses on the - arsenal lawn, and nodded his red head approvingly. - </p> - <p> - In an incredibly short space of time the news that the arsenal had been - captured and that Sarros was besieged in the palace spread through the - city. The sight of the red banner of revolution floating over the arsenal - for the first time in fifteen years brought hundreds of willing recruits - to the rebel ranks, as Ricardo Ruey had anticipated; these were quickly - supplied with arms and ammunition; by ten o'clock a battalion had - been formed and sent off, together with the machine-gun company, to - connect with the San Bruno contingent advancing from the south to turn the - flank of the government troops, while the equipping of an additional - battalion proceeded within the arsenal. As fast as the new levies were - armed, they were hurried off to reinforce the handful of white men who - had, after clearing the arsenal, advanced on the palace and now, with - machine guns from the arsenal commanding all avenues of escape from the - trap wherein Sarros found himself, were calmly awaiting developments, - merely keeping an eye open for snipers. - </p> - <p> - Thus the forenoon passed away. By one o'clock Don Juan Cafetéro—who - in the absence of close-range fighting had elected himself ordnance - sergeant—passed out the last rifle and ammunition. He was red with - slaughter, slippery with gun-grease, dripping with perspiration and filthy - with dust and dirt. “Begorra,” he declared, “a cowld - bottle av beer would go fine now.” Then, recalling his limitations, - he sighed and put the thought from him. It revived in him, however, for - the first time since he had left the steamer, a memory of John Stuart - Webster, and his promise to the latter to report on the progress of the - war. So Don Juan sought Doctor Pacheco in his headquarters and learned - that a signal-man, heliographing from the roof of the arsenal, had been in - communication with General Ruey, who reported the situation well in hand, - with no doubt of an overwhelming victory before the day should be over. - This and sundry other bits of information Don Juan gleaned and then - deserted the Sobrantean revolutionary army quite as casually as he had - joined it, to make his precarious way down the Calle San Rosario to the - bay. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXV - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HROUGHOUT the - forenoon Webster and Dolores, from the deck of the steamer, watched the - city. Numerous fires covered it with a pall of smoke from beneath which - came the steady crackle of machine-gun fire, mingled with the insistent - crash of the field batteries which seemingly had moved up closer to their - target. - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0006.jpg" alt="0006 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0006.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - By ten o'clock the sounds of battle had swelled to a deeper, - steadier roar, and refugees arriving brought various and fragmentary - stories of the fighting. From this hodge-podge of misinformation, however, - Webster decided that Ricardo's troops were forcing the issue with - vim and determination, and since the most furious fighting was now well in - toward the heart of the city, it seemed reasonable to presume the struggle - was for possession of the arsenal and palace. - </p> - <p> - At noon the deep diapason of conflict began to slacken; by one o'clock - it had dwindled considerably, and at two o'clock Webster, gazing - anxiously cityward, observed Leber's launch coming rapidly out from - shore. At the wheel stood Don Juan Cafetéro; as the launch shot in under - the vessel's side he looked up, searching for Webster's face - among the curious throng that lined the rail. - </p> - <p> - “Faugh-a-ballagh!” he shrieked. “We've got the - divils cornered now. 'Twill be over two hours hince.” - </p> - <p> - “Who has won?” a voice called, and another, evidently a - humourist and a shrewd judge of human nature, replied: “Why ask - foolish questions? The rebels, of course. That fellow's Irish and - the Irish are born rebels. Look at the scoundrel. He's black with - gun-grease and burned powder where he isn't red with blood. The - butcher!” - </p> - <p> - Don Juan tied up the launch at the gangway and leaped up the ladder, three - steps at a time. “Glory be to God,” he panted and hurled - himself into Webster's arms. “I was in it! I was. I got back - in time to catch up wit' the lads at the warehouse an' they - were the fine, fightin' divils, I'll gamble you. Och, 'twas - a grrand bit av a fight—whilst it lasted. They put me in the - motor-thruck, loadin' the belts wit' ca'tridges as fast - as the gunners imptied thim, but faith they couldn't keep me there. - I got into the heart av the scrimmage in the yard av the arsenal an' - faith 'twas well for that little Docthor Pacheco I did. 'Twas - wurrk to me likin'. I'd a machete——” - </p> - <p> - “You bloodthirsty scoundrel!” Webster shook the war-mad son of - Erin. “I told you not to mix in it, but to hang around on the fringe - of the fight, and bring us early news. Suppose you'd been killed? - Who would have come for us then? Didn't I tell you we had a dinner - engagement in the palace?” - </p> - <p> - “Me on the fringes av a fight,” sputtered Don Juan, amazed and - outraged. “Take shame for yerself, sor. There was niver the likes av - me hung around the fringes av a fight, an' well ye know it.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm amazed that you even remembered your instructions,” - Webster rasped at him. - </p> - <p> - “Sure, our division had cl'aned up nicely an' I had - nothin' else to do, God bless ye. They were besiegin' the - palace whin I left, an' small chance av takin' it for a couple - av hours; what fightin' there was on the outside was shtreet shootin'—an' - not to me likin'.” - </p> - <p> - “Is it quite safe to bring Miss Ruey ashore, John?” - </p> - <p> - “'Tis safe enough at the Hotel Mateo. We have the city for - half a mile beyant, in the rear av them—an' they're not - fightin' to get to the bay. The Guards an' some av the - Fifteenth Infanthry regimint are in the palace an' the <i>cuartel</i> - close by, an' thim that we failed to get in the arsenal have j'ined - thim. But the bulk av the Sarros army is thryin' to break t'rough - to the south an' west, to get to the hills. D'ye mind the spur - thrack that runs in a semi-cirrcle around the city? Well, thin, the rebels - are behint the embankmint, takin' it aisy. Have no worry, sor. Whin - we've took the palace we'll move on an' dhrive the - vagàbones from behint up to that railroad embankmint, where <i>Gineral - Ruey</i> can bid them the time av day.” - </p> - <p> - Webster turned to Dolores. “Do you wish to go ashore?” - </p> - <p> - She nodded, her flashing eyes bent in admiration upon the gory, grimy Don - Juan Cafetéro, for she was half Irish, and in that amazing meeting she - knew the outcast for one of her blood. “I think my brother will - sleep in his father's old room to-night,” she murmured softly. - “And I would sleep in mine.” - </p> - <p> - They followed Don Juan down the gangway to the launch and sped back to the - city. The door of Leber's warehouse stood wide open; within was a - litter of greasy rags and broken packing cases, with Leber, quite - mystified, sitting on a keg of nails and staring curiously at it all. - </p> - <p> - Guided by Don Juan Cafetéro, Webster and Dolores passed on up the Calle - San Rosario. Occasionally a bullet, fired two or three miles to the west, - droned lazily overhead or dropped with a sharp metallic sound on the - corrugated-iron roofs of a building. At the hotel the proprietor alone was - in evidence, seated behind the desk smoking in profound indifference. - </p> - <p> - In response to Webster's eager inquiries for the latest news from - the front, the placid fellow shrugged and murmured: “<i>Quien sabe?</i>” - Evidently for him such stirring scenes had long since lost their novelty; - the bloom was off the peach, as it were. - </p> - <p> - Webster went upstairs and helped himself to another automatic and several - spare clips of shells which he had left in his trunk. On his return to the - lobby, Dolores saw what a very near sighted person, indeed, would have - seen—to wit: that he was not pleased to remain in the hotel and with - the spirit of adventure strong within him was desirous of progressing - still farther toward the firing, in the hope of eliciting some favourable - news as to the progress of the fight. She realized, however, that he would - do his duty and remain with her in the hotel; so she said gaily: - </p> - <p> - “Suppose we walk out a little farther, Caliph. Many of the side - streets will be as safe and peaceful as one could desire, and if warfare - should develop in our vicinity we can step into some house.” - </p> - <p> - “I do not like to have you run the slightest risk——” - he began, but she pooh-poohed him into silence, took him by the arm with a - great air of camaraderie, and declared they should go forth to adventure—but - cautiously. - </p> - <p> - Webster glanced at Don Juan. “We can go a half or three quarters av - a mile out the Calle San Rosario, sor,” the Irishman answered. - “After that 'twill not be a pleasant sight for the young leddy—an' - there may be some shootin'. Squads av the governmint throops took - refuge in the houses an' took to snipin'. 'Twill be - shlow wurrk roundin' the last av thim up. Even afther the fight is - over, there'll be scatterin' shootin' scrapes all av the - night long, I'm thinkin'.” - </p> - <p> - “At the slightest danger we'll turn back,” Webster - announced, and with Don Juan Cafetéro scouting the way a block in advance - they progressed slowly toward the centre of the disturbance. - </p> - <p> - Soon they passed a horse dead in the middle of the street; a little - farther on one of the machine-gun company, a lank Texan, sat on the curb - rolling a cigarette with his left hand. He had a bullet through his right - shoulder and another through the calf of his left leg and had received no - first aid attention; the flies were bothering him considerably and he was - cursing softly and fluently, like the ex-mule-skinner he was. - </p> - <p> - Farther on another white invader lay face down in the gutter; for him the - fight had ended almost ere it had begun. In the next block half a dozen - sandal-footed Sobranteans, in the blue and red-trimmed uniform of the <i>Guardia - Civil</i>, lay spawled in uncouth attitudes, where the first blast of a - machine gun had caught them as they rushed out of the police station to - repel the advancing mercenaries. - </p> - <p> - Seeing that the main street of the city would assume even a more grisly - aspect the longer they followed it, Don Juan led Webster and Dolores a - couple of blocks down a cross-street and turned out into the Calle de - Hernandez, parallel to the Calle San Rosario. There had been no shooting - in this street, apparently; as they proceeded not even a stray bullet - whined down the silent calle. - </p> - <p> - Four blocks from the government palace, however, they found the narrow - sidewalks of this quiet street lined with wounded from both sides, with a - doctor and half a dozen of Ricardo's hired fighters ministering to - them; as they threaded their way between the recumbent figures they came - upon Mother Jenks, brandy bottle and glass in hand, “doing her bit.” - </p> - <p> - “Hah! So here you are, my lamb,” she greeted Dolores. “Right-o. - Just where yer ought to be, Gor' bless yer sweet face. Let these - poor misfortunate lads see that the sister o' the new president ain't - too proud to care for 'em. 'Ere, lass. 'Old up the - 'ead o' this young cockerel with the 'ole in 'is - neck. 'Ere, lad. Tyke a brace now! 'Ere's some o' - your own people, not a lot o' bloomin' yeller-bellies, come to - put something else in yer neck—somethink that'll stimulate - yer.” - </p> - <p> - The “young cockerel,” a blond youth of scarce twenty summers, - twisted his head and grinned up at Dolores as she knelt beside him to lift - him up. “Here, here, sister,” he mumbled, “you'll - get that white dress dirty. Never mind me. It's just a flesh wound, - only my neck has got stiff and I'm weak from loss of blood.” - </p> - <p> - Mother Jenks winked at Webster as she set a glass of brandy to the - stricken adventurer's lips. “Give me a bit o' the white - meat, as my sainted 'Enery used to s'y,” she murmured - comically. - </p> - <p> - Dolores looked up at Webster. “I'll stay here,” she said - simply. “I've found a job helping Mother Jenks. You and Don - Juan may run along if you wish. I know you're as curious as - children.” - </p> - <p> - They were. It would have been impossible for any man with red corpuscles - in his blood to harken to the shooting and shouts only three city blocks - distant without yearning to see the fight itself. - </p> - <p> - “I'll return in fifteen minutes, at the latest,” he - promised her, and with Don Juan Cafetéro, who had helped himself to a - rifle and bayonet from one of the wounded, he turned the corner into the - next street and started back toward the Calie San Rosario, which they - followed west through a block plentifully sprinkled with the dead of both - factions. - </p> - <p> - Don Juan led the way through an alley in the rear of the Catedral de la - Santa Cruz to the door of the sacristy; as he placed his hand on the latch - three rifle bullets struck around them, showering them with fragments of - falling adobe. - </p> - <p> - “There's a house party in the neighbourhood,” yelled Don - Juan and darted into the church, with Webster at his heels, just in time - to escape another fusillade. They walked through the sacristy and passed - through a door into the great cathedral, with its high, carved, - Gothic-arched ceiling. Through the thick closed doors of the main - entrance, lost in the dimness of space out in front, the sounds of the - battle half a block away seemed very distant, indeed. - </p> - <p> - They passed the altar and Don Juan genuflected and crossed himself - reverently. “I'll be afther makin' me confession,” - he whispered to Webster. “Wait for me, sor.” - </p> - <p> - He leaned his rifle against the altar railing, crossed the church and - touched lightly on the shoulder a monk kneeling in prayer before the altar - of the Virgin; the latter bent his head while Don Juan whispered; then he - rose and both went into the confessional, while Webster found a bench - along the wall and waited. - </p> - <p> - Presently Don Juan came forth, knelt on the red-tiled floor and prayed—something, - Webster suspected, he had not done for quite a while. And when he had - finished his supplication and procured his rifle, Webster joined him, the - monk unbolted the door and from the quiet of the house of God they passed - out into the street and the tumult of hell. - </p> - <p> - “I've been dost to death this day,” Don Juan explained, - “an' the day is not done. Be the same token, 'tis long - since I'd made me last confession; sure, until you picked me out av - the mire, sor, 'tis little thought I had for the hereafter.” - </p> - <p> - They were standing on the steps of the cathedral as Don Juan spoke, and - from their place they could see a dozen or more of Ricardo's hired - fighters crouched under the shelter of the palace walls across the street. - “I think we'll be safer there,” Webster cried, as a - couple of bullets struck the stone steps at their feet and ricocheted - against the cathedral door. “That rifle of yours is making you a - marked man, Don Juan.” - </p> - <p> - They ran across the street and joined the men under the palace wall. - </p> - <p> - “What's this?” Don Juan demanded briskly. “Have ye - not shmoked thim out yet?” - </p> - <p> - “Noddings doing,” a young German answered. “Der chief - has sent word dot we shall not artillery use on der balace. Men all - aroundt it we haf, mit a machine gun commanding each gate; most of der - poys have chust moved out west in der rear of der government troops.” - </p> - <p> - “Then,” Don Juan declared with conviction, “there'll - be no fighting here to speak av, until later.” - </p> - <p> - “Der is blenty of choy hunting snipers, <i>mein freund</i>. Der - houses hereabouts vos filled mit dem.” - </p> - <p> - “I'll have no cat fights in mine,” Don Juan retorted. - “Come wit' me, sor, an' we'll be in at the death - out beyant at the railroad embankmint.” - </p> - <p> - “Too late,” Webster answered, for on the instant to the west - the crackle of rifle and machine-gun fire interluded with the staccato - barks of a Maxim-Vickers broke out, swelling almost immediately to a - steady outpouring of sound. “We'll stay here where we're - safe for the finals. When General Ruey has cleaned up out there he'll - come here to take command.” - </p> - <p> - For half an hour the sounds of a brisk engagement to the west did not - slacken; then with disconcerting suddenness the uproar died away fully 50 - per cent. - </p> - <p> - “They're going in with the bayonet and machetes,” - somebody who knew remarked laconically. “Wait and you'll hear - the cheering.” - </p> - <p> - They waited fully ten minutes, but presently, as the firing gradually died - away, they heard it, faint and indistinguishable at first, but gradually - coming nearer. And presently the trapped men in the palace heard it, too. - “Viva Ruey! Viva! Viva Ruey!” - </p> - <p> - “All over but the shouting,” Don Juan remarked disgustedly. - “The lads in the palace will surrindher now. Sure Gineral Ruey was - right afther all. For why should he shoot holes in the house he's - goin' to live in, an' where, be the same token, he gives a - dinner party this night?” - </p> - <p> - “I'm glad the end is in sight,” Webster replied. “We - have no interest in this revolution, John, and it isn't up to us to - horn in on the play; yet if it went against the Ruey faction, I fear we'd - be forced into active service in spite of ourselves. There is such a thing - as fighting to save one's skin, you know.” - </p> - <p> - Don Juan laughed pleasurably. “What a shame we missed the row out - beyant at the railroad em-bankmint,” he declared. - </p> - <p> - “I wish you'd kept out of it, Don Juan. What business had you - in the fight at the <i>cuartd?</i> Suppose you'd been killed?” - </p> - <p> - “Small loss!” Don Juan retorted. - </p> - <p> - “I should have mourned you nevertheless, John.” - </p> - <p> - “Would you that same?” Don Juan's buttermilk eyes - lighted with affection and pleasure. “Would it put a pang in the - heart of you, sor, to see me stretched?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, it would, John. You're a wild, impulsive, lunatic, - worthless Irishman, but there's a broad vein of pay-ore in you, and - I want you to live until I can develop it. When Mr. Geary returns to - operate the mine, he'll need a foreman he can trust.” - </p> - <p> - “And do you trust me, sor?” - </p> - <p> - “I do indeed, John. By the way, you never gave me your word of - honour to cut out red liquor for keeps. Up till to-day I've had to - watch you—and I don't want to do that. It isn't - dignified for either of us, and from to-day on you must be a man or a - mouse. If you prove yourself a man, I want you in my business; if you - prove yourself a mouse, somebody else may have you. How about you, John? - The <i>cantinas</i> will be open to-night, and firewater will be free to - the soldiers of the new republic. Must I watch you to-night?” - </p> - <p> - Don Juan shook his reckless red head. “I'll never let a drop - of liquor cross my lips without your permission, sor,” he promised - simply. “I am the man and you are the master.” - </p> - <p> - “We'll shake hands on that!” After the western habit of - validating all verbal agreements with a handshake, Webster thrust his hard - hand out to his man, who took it in both of his and held it for half a - minute. He wanted to speak, but couldn't; he could only bow his head - as his eyes clouded with the tears of his appreciation. “Ah, sor,” - he blurted presently, “I'd die for ye an' welcome the - chanst.” - </p> - <p> - A wild yell of alarm broke out in the next block, at the north gate of the - palace; there was a sudden flurry of rifle fire and cries of “Here - they come! Stop them! Stop them! They're breaking out!” - </p> - <p> - Without awaiting orders the hired fighters along the wall—some - fifteen of them—leaped out into the street, forming a skirmish line, - just as a troop of cavalry, with drawn sabres, swept around the corner and - charged upon the devoted little line. “Sarros must be thryin' - to make his get-away,” Don Juan Cafetéro remarked coolly, and - emptied a saddle. “They threw open the big palace gate, an' - the Guards are clearin' a way for him to the bay.” He emptied - another saddle. - </p> - <p> - In the meantime Ricardo's fire-eaters had not been idle. The instant - the Guards turned into the street a deadly magazine fire had been opened - on them. They had already suffered heavily winning through the gate and - past the besiegers in front of it, but once they turned the corner into - the next street they had the fire of but a handful of men to contend with. - Nevertheless it was sufficiently deadly. Many of the horses in the front - rank went down with their riders, forcing the maddened animals behind to - clear their carcasses by leaping over them, which some did. Many, however, - tripped and stumbled in their wild gallop, spilling their riders. - </p> - <p> - “Stay by the wall, you madman,” Webster ordered. “There'll - be enough left to ride down those men in the street and sabre them!” - </p> - <p> - And there were! They died to a man, and the sadly depleted troop of Guards - galloped, on, leaving Don Juan and Webster unscathed on the sidewalk, the - only two living men unhurt in that shambles. - </p> - <p> - Not for long, however, did they have the street to themselves. Around the - corner of the palace wall a limousine, with the curtains drawn, swung on - two wheels, skidded, struck the carcass of a horse and turned over, - catapulting the chauffeur into the middle of the street. - </p> - <p> - “Sarros!” shrieked Don Juan and ran to the overturned vehicle. - It was quite empty. - </p> - <p> - “Bully boy, Senor Sarros,” Webster laughed. “He's - turned à pretty trick, hasn't he? Sent his Guards out to hack a - pathway for an empty limousine! That means he's hoping to draw the - watchers from the other gate!” - </p> - <p> - But Don Juan Cafetéro was not listening; he was running at top speed for - the south gate of the palace grounds—and Webster followed. - </p> - <p> - As they swung into the street upon which this south gate opened, Webster - saw that it was deserted of all save the dead, for Sarros's clever - ruse had worked well and had had the effect of arousing the curiosity of - his enemies as to the cause of the uproar at the north gate, in - consequence of which they had all scurried around the block to see what - they could see, thus according Sarros the thing he desired most—a - fighting chance and a half minute to get through the gate and headed for - the steamship landing without interference. - </p> - <p> - Webster and Don Juan came abreast the high, barred gate in the thick, - twenty-foot masonry wall as the barrier swung back and a man, in civilian - clothes, thundered through on a magnificent bay thoroughbred. - </p> - <p> - “That's him. Shtop the divil!” screamed Don Juan. - “They'll do the decent thing be me if I take him alive.” - </p> - <p> - To Webster, who had acquired the art of snap shooting while killing time - in many a lonely camp, the bay charger offered an easy mark. “Hate - to down that beautiful animal,” he remarked—and pulled away. - </p> - <p> - The horse leaped into the air and came down stifflegged; Sarros spurred it - cruelly, and the gallant beast strove to gather itself into its stride, - staggered and sank to its knees, as with a wild Irish yell Don Juan - Cafetéro reached the dictator's side. - </p> - <p> - Sarros drew a revolver, but before he could use it Don Juan tapped him - smartly over the head with his rifle barrel, and the man toppled inertly - to the ground beside his dying horse. - </p> - <p> - “More power to ye, sor,” Don Juan called cheerily and turned - to receive Webster's approval. - </p> - <p> - What he saw paralyzed him for an instant. Webster was standing beside the - gate, firing into a dozen of Sarros's soldiery who were pouring out - of a house just across the street, where for an hour they had crouched - unseen and unheard by the Ruey men at the gate. They were practically out - of ammunition and had merely been awaiting a favourable opportunity to - escape before the rebels should enter the city in force and the - house-to-house search for snipers should begin. They had been about to - emerge and beat a hasty retreat, when Sarros rode out at the gate, and - with a rush they followed, gaining the sidewalk in time to be witnesses to - the dictator's downfall. - </p> - <p> - For a moment they had paused, huddled on the sidewalk behind their - officer, who, turning to scout the street up and down, beheld John Stuart - Webster standing by the gate with an automatic in his hand. At the same - instant Webster's attention had been attracted to the little band on - the sidewalk; in their leader he recognized no less a personage than his - late acquaintance, the fire-eating Captain José Benavides. Coincidently - Benavides recognized Webster. - </p> - <p> - It was an awkward situation. Webster realized the issue was about to be - decided, that if he would have it in his favour, he should waste not one - split-second before killing the mercurial Benavides as the latter stood - staring at him. It was not a question, now, of who should beat the other - to the draw, for each had already filled his hand. It was a question, - rather, as to who should recover first from his astonishment. If Benavides - decided to let bygones be bygones and retreat without firing a shot, then - Webster was quite willing to permit him to pass unmolested; indeed, such - was his aversion to shooting any man, so earnestly did he hope the - Sobrantean would consider that discretion was the better part of valour, - that he resolved to inculcate that idea in the Hotspur. - </p> - <p> - “Captain Benavides,” he said suavely, “your cause is - lost. If you care to escape aboard the steamer, I will see to it that you - are not removed from her before she sails; if you care to surrender to me - now, I give you my word of honour you will not be executed.” - </p> - <p> - Benavides might have had, and doubtless did have, his faults, but - cowardice was not one of them. And he did have the ghost of a sense of - humour. An evil smile flitted over his olive features. - </p> - <p> - “Without taking into consideration the bayonets at my back,” - he replied, “it strikes me the odds are even now. And yet you - patronize me.” - </p> - <p> - Webster was nettled. “I'd rather do that than kill you, - Benavides,” he retorted. “Don't be a fool. Run along and - sell your papers, and take your pitiful little sandal-footed brigands with - you. Scat!” - </p> - <p> - Benavides's hand, holding his pistol, had been hanging loosely at - his side. With his furious glance meeting Webster's unfalteringly, - with the merest movement of his wrist and scarcely without movement of his - forearm, he threw up his weapon and fired. Scarcely a fifth of a second - had elapsed between the movement of his wrist and the pressure of his - finger on the trigger; Webster, gazing steadily into the sombre eyes, had - noted no hint of the man's intention, and was actually caught off - his guard. - </p> - <p> - The bullet tore through his biceps, momentarily paralyzing him, and his - automatic dropped clattering to the sidewalk; as he stooped and recovered - it, Benavides fired again, creasing the top of his left shoulder. The - Sobrantean took aim for a third and finishing shot, but when he pulled the - trigger the hammer fell on a defective cartridge, which gave to John - Stuart Webster all the advantage he craved. He planted a bullet in - Benavides's abdomen with his first shot, blew out the duelist's - brains with his second, and whirled to meet the charge of the little - sandal-footed soldados, who, seeing their leader fallen, had without an - instant's hesitation and apparently by mutual consent decided to - avenge him. - </p> - <p> - Webster backed dazedly toward the wall, firing as he did so, but he was - too dizzy to shoot effectively, and the semicircle of bayonets closed in - on his front. He had wounded three men without stopping them; a second - more, and their long, eighteen-inch bayonets would have been in his - vitals, when into the midst of the mêlée, from the rear, dashed Don Juan - Cafetéro, shrieking like a fiend and swinging his rifle, which he held - grasped by the barrel. - </p> - <p> - Webster saw a bayonet lunging toward him. He lifted his leg and caught the - point on his boot-heel while with his last cartridge he killed the man - behind the bayonet, just as the latter's next-rank man thrust - straight and true in under the American's left arm, while a third - man jabbed at his stomach and got the bayonet home in his hip. These two - thrusts, delivered almost simultaneously, by their impact carried their - victim backward against the wall, against which his head collided with a - smart thud. He fell forward on his face; before his assailants could draw - back for a finishing thrust, in case the gringo needed it, which they - doubted, Don Juan Cafetéro had brained them both. - </p> - <p> - Standing above the man he loved, with the latter's body between his - outspread legs, Don Juan Cafetéro stood for the final accounting, his - buttermilk eyes gleaming hatred and war-madness, his lips drawn back from - his snaggle teeth, his breast rising and falling as they closed in around - him. For a few seconds he was visible swinging his rifle like a flail, - magnificent, unterrified—and then a bayonet slipped in under his - guard. It was the end. - </p> - <p> - With a final great effort that used up the last strength in his - drink-corroded muscles he hurled his rifle into the midst of his four - remaining enemies, before he swayed and toppled full length on top of - Webster, shielding with his poor body the man who had fanned to flame the - dying ember of manhood in the wreck that drink and the devil had cast up - on the Caribbean coast. - </p> - <p> - For Don Juan Cafetéro it had been a long, joyous, thirsty day, but at last - the day was done. And in order to make certain, a <i>soldado</i> jabbed - him once more through the vitals before he fled with the other survivors. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXVI - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">F</span>OR half an hour - after Webster left her to assist the great-hearted Mother Jenks in her - rough care of the wounded, Dolores, absorbed in her work of mercy, gave - all of her thought to the grim task before her. The cries, followed by the - sudden, savage outbreak of fire when the Guards made their dash from the - palace, brought Webster and Don Juan to mind instantly. In a quick access - of terror and apprehension she clung, trembling, to stolid old Mother - Jenks. - </p> - <p> - “Somebody's breakin' in or breakin' out,” - the veteran decided calmly. “Come to the corner, dearie, an' - 'ave a look.” - </p> - <p> - She half dragged Dolores to the corner, from which they had an - unobstructed view down the cross-street to its intersection three blocks - distant with the Calle San Rosario; consequently they saw the dozen or - more survivors of that ill-fated dash from the north gate of the palace - flash for a second across their line of vision. Mother Jenks croaked - dismally, like a disreputable old raven; she was trying to cheer. - </p> - <p> - “The rats are leavin' the sinkin' ship,” she - wheezed. “Come an' see them tyke the devils as killed my - sainted 'Enery.” She broke eagerly from Dolores's - detaining grasp and ran down the street. Dolores hesitated a moment; then, - reasoning that her duty lay in pursuing Mother Jenks and preventing her - from rushing headlong into the conflict, she followed. - </p> - <p> - Evidently the fleeing Guards had scurried around a corner into a - cross-street shortly after Dolores and Mother Jenks had seen them gallop - past, for the firing down the Calle San Rosario had ceased entirely by the - time they reached it. They stood a moment at the corner, gazing up the - street at the dead—man and beast—with the wounded crawling out - of the shambles to the sidewalk. - </p> - <p> - Mother Jenks nodded approvingly as triumphant shouts from the north gate - told her the Ruey men were pouring into the palace; with their arms about - each other the two women watched and waited—and presently the - national flag on the palace came fluttering down from its staff, to be - raised again with the red banner of revolution fluttering above it, the - insignia of a nation reborn. - </p> - <p> - “My lamb,” Mother Jenks said softly to Dolores, “the war - is over. Wot's the matter with goin' in the south gate an' - wytin' on the palace steps for the provisional president to make his - grand ountray? If we 'esitate five minutes they'll have a - bloomin' guard on both gates, arskin' us 'oo we are an' - wot we want.” - </p> - <p> - “But Mr. Webster will come to that back street looking for me; I - must go back and wait there for him.” - </p> - <p> - “Wyte, nothink!” Mother Jenks overruled the girl's - protest roughly. “'E'll 'ave gone into the palace - with the crowd for a look-see; we'll meet 'im there an' - syve 'im the trouble o' 'untin' for us. Come!” - And she half dragged the shrinking girl toward the gate, a block distant, - where only a few minutes before Webster and Don Juan Cafetéro had made - their ineffectual stand. - </p> - <p> - “Don't look at the blighters, honey,” Mother Jenks - warned Dolores when, in approaching the gate, she caught sight of the - bodies strewed in front of it. “My word! Regular bally mess—an' - all spiggoties! Cawn't be. Must 'ave been some white meat on - this bird, as my sainted 'Enery uster s'y. Hah! Thought so! - There's a red-headed 'un! Gawd's truth! An' - 'e done all that—Gor' strike me pink! It's Don - Juan Cafetéro.” - </p> - <p> - Mother Jenks stepped over the gory corpses ringed around Don Juan and - knelt beside him. “Don Juan!” she cried. “You bally, - interferin' blighter, you've gone an' got it!” - </p> - <p> - She ran her strong old arms under his dripping body, lifted him and laid - his red head on her knee, while with her free hand she drew a small flask - of brandy from her dress pocket. - </p> - <p> - Don Juan opened his buttermilk eyes and gazed up at her with slowly - dawning wonder, then closed them again, drowsily, like a tired child. - Mother Jenks pressed the flask to his blue lips; as the brandy bit his - tongue he rolled his fiery head in feeble protest and weakly set his teeth - against the lip of the flask. Wondering, Mother Jenks withdrew it—and - then Don Juan spoke. - </p> - <p> - “Have ye the masther's permission, <i>allanah?</i> I give him - me worm av honour—not—to dhrink—till—he—give—permission. - He—was good—to me—troth he was—God—love—me—boss——” - </p> - <p> - His jaw dropped loosely; his head rolled sideways; but ere his spirit - fled, Don Juan Cafetéro had justified the faith of his master. He had kept - his word of honour. He had made good on his brag to die for John Stuart - Webster and welcome the chance! Mother Jenks held his body a little while, - gazing into the face no longer rubicund; then gently she eased it to the - ground and for the first time was aware that Dolores knelt in the dirt - opposite to her striving to lift the body upon which Don Juan had been - lying. - </p> - <p> - The strength of Dolores was unequal to the task; so Mother Jenks, - hardened, courageous, calm as her sainted 'Enery at his inglorious - finish, rose and stepped around to her side to help her. She could see - this other was a white man, too; coolly she stooped and wiped his gory - face with the hem of her apron. And then she recognized him! - </p> - <p> - “Lift him up! Give him to me!” Dolores sobbed. “Oh, - Caliph, my poor dear, big-hearted blundering boy!” - </p> - <p> - She got her arm under his head; Mother Jenks aided her; and the limp body - was lifted to a sitting position; then Dolores knelt on one knee, - supporting him with the other, and drew his head over on her shoulder; - with her white cheek cuddled against his, she spoke into his deaf ears the - little, tender, foolish words that mothers have for their children, that - women have for the stricken men of their love. She pleaded with him to - open his eyes, to speak to her and tell her he still lived; so close was - his face to hers that she saw an old but very faint white scar running - diagonally across his left eyebrow—and kissed it. - </p> - <p> - Presently strong arms took him from her; clinging to somebody—she - knew not whom—she followed, moaning broken-heartedly, while eight - men, forming a rude litter with four rifles passed under his body, bore - Webster to the shade of a tufted palm inside the palace gate. - </p> - <p> - As they laid Webster down for a moment there Dolores saw a tall, youthful - man, of handsome features and noble bearing, approach and look at him. In - his eyes there were tears; a sob escaped him as with a little impulsive, - affectionate movement he patted John Stuart Webster's cheek. - </p> - <p> - “My friend!” the fainting Dolores heard him murmur. “My - great-hearted, whimsical, lovable John Webster. You made it possible for - me to meet you here to-night—and this is the meeting!” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXVII - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>HILE Ricardo - watched beside the unconscious Webster one of his aides galloped up the - street, to return presently with a detachment with stretchers, into which - Webster and Don Juan Cafetéro were laid and carried up the palace driveway - into the huge golden reception-hall where only the night before Sarros had - greeted the belles and beaux of his capital. In the meantime Mother Jenks - had succeeded in restoring Dolores to consciousness; supported by the - indomitable old woman the girl slowly followed the grim procession until, - at the door of the reception-room, they found their further progress - barred by a sentry. - </p> - <p> - “The red-haired man is dead,” he informed them in response to - their eager queries. “If you want his body,” he continued, - hazarding a guess as to their mission, “I guess you can have it. - There he is.” And the sentry pointed to the stretcher which had been - set down along the wall of the reception-hall. - </p> - <p> - “'Ow about the other?” Mother Jenks demanded. Don Juan - Cafetéro had, unfortunately, been so much of a nuisance to her in life - that she was not minded to be troubled greatly over him in death, although - the Spartanlike manner of his exit had thrilled the British bulldog blood - in her. - </p> - <p> - “The big fellow isn't quite dead yet, but I'm afraid he's - a goner. The surgeons have him in this room now. Friend of yours, Miss?” - he inquired in tones freighted with neighbourly sympathy. - </p> - <p> - Dolores nodded. - </p> - <p> - “Sorry I can't let you in, Miss,” he continued, “but - the General ordered me to keep everybody out until the doctors have - finished looking him over. If I was you, I'd wait in that room - across the hall; then you can get the first news when the doctors come - out.” - </p> - <p> - Mother Jenks accepted his advice and steered her charge into the room - indicated. And as they waited, Ricardo Ruey stood anxiously beside the - table on which John Stuart Webster's big, limp body reposed, while - Doctor Pacheco, assisted by a Sobrantean confrère, went deftly over him - with surgical scissors and cut the blood-soaked clothing from his body. - </p> - <p> - “He breathes very gently,” the rebel leader said, presently. - “Is there any hope?” - </p> - <p> - The little doctor shrugged. “I fear not. That bayonet-thrust in the - left side missed his heart but not his lung.” - </p> - <p> - “But apparently he hasn't bled much from that wound.” - </p> - <p> - “The hemorrhage is probably internal. Even if that congestion of - blood in the lungs does not prove fatal very shortly, he cannot, in his - weakened state, survive the traumatic fever from all these wounds. It is - bound—hello, how our poor friend still lives with the bayonet broken - off in his body—for here is steel—hah! Not a bayonet, but a - pistol.” - </p> - <p> - He unbuttoned the wounded man's coat and found a strap running - diagonally up across his breast and over the right shoulder, connecting - with a holster under the left arm. The doctor unbuckled this strap and - removed the holster, which contained Webster's spare gun; Ricardo, - glancing disinterestedly at the sheathed weapon, noted a small, new, - triangular hole in the leather holster. He picked it up, withdrew the - pistol, and found a deep scratch, recently made, along the blued steel - close to the vulcanite butt. - </p> - <p> - When Ricardo glanced at Pacheco after his scrutiny of the pistol and - holster, the doctor's dark eyes were regarding him mirthfully. - </p> - <p> - “I have been unnecessarily alarmed, my general,” said Pacheco. - “Our dear friend has been most fortunate in his choice of wounds——” - </p> - <p> - “He's a lucky Yankee; that's what he is, my dear - Pacheco. A lucky Yankee!” Ricardo leaned over and examined the - bayonet-wound in Webster's left side. “He took the point of - the steel on this pistol he happened to be wearing under his left arm,” - he went on to explain. “That turned the bayonet and it slid along - his ribs, making a superficial flesh-wound.” - </p> - <p> - Pacheco nodded. “And this bullet merely burned the top of his right - shoulder, while another passed through his biceps without touching the - bone. His most severe wound is this jab in the hip.” - </p> - <p> - They stripped every stitch of clothing from Webster and went over him - carefully. At the back of his head they found a little clotted blood from - a small split in the scalp; also they found a lump of generous - proportions. Pacheco laughed briefly but contentedly. - </p> - <p> - “Then he is not even seriously injured?” Ricardo interrupted - that laugh. - </p> - <p> - “I would die of fright if I had to fight this fine fellow a month - from to-day,” the little doctor chirped. “Look at that chest, - <i>mi general</i>—and that flat abdomen. The man is in superb - physical condition; it is the bump on the head that renders him - unconscious—not loss of blood.” - </p> - <p> - As if to confirm this expert testimony Webster at that moment breathed - long and deeply, screwed up his face and shook his head very slightly. - Thereafter for several minutes he gave no further evidence of an active - interest in life—seeing which Pacheco decided to take prompt - advantage of his unconsciousness and probe the wounds in his arm and - shoulder for the fragments of clothing which the bullets must have carried - into them. After ten minutes of probing Pacheco announced that he was - through and ready to bandage; whereupon John Stuart Webster said faintly - but very distinctly, in English: - </p> - <p> - “I'm awfully glad you are, Doc'. It hurt like hell! Did - you manage to get a bite on that fishing-trip?” - </p> - <p> - “Jack Webster, you scoundrel!” Ricardo yelled joyously, and he - shook the patient with entire disregard of the latter's wounds. - “Oh, man, I'm glad you're not dead.” - </p> - <p> - “Your sentiments appeal to me strongly, my friend. I'm—too—tired - to look—at you. Who the devil—are you?” - </p> - <p> - “I'm Ricardo.” - </p> - <p> - Fell a silence, while Webster prepared for another speech. “Where am - I?” - </p> - <p> - “In the palace.” - </p> - <p> - “Hum-m! Then it was a famous victory.” - </p> - <p> - “One strong, decisive blow did the trick, old chap. We won - pulled-up, and that forty-thousand-dollar bet of yours is safe. I'll - cash the ticket for you tomorrow morning.” - </p> - <p> - “Damn the forty thousand. Where's my Croppy Boy?” - </p> - <p> - “Your what?” - </p> - <p> - “My wild Irish blackthorn, Don Juan Cafetéro.” - </p> - <p> - “I hope, old man, he has ere now that which all brave Irishmen and - true deserve—a harp with a crown. In life the Irish have the harp - without the crown, you know.” - </p> - <p> - “How did he die?” Webster whispered. - </p> - <p> - “He died hard, with the holes in front—and he died for you.” - </p> - <p> - Two big tears trickled slowly through Webster's closed lids and - rolled across his pale cheek. “Poor, lost, lonesome, misunderstood - wreck,” he murmured presently, “he was an extremist in all - things. He used to sing those wonderfully poetic ballads of his people—I - remember one that began: 'Green were the fields where my forefathers - dwelt.' I think his heart was in Kerry—so we'll send him - there. He's my dead, Ricardo; care for his body, because I'm—going - to plant Don Juan with the—shamrocks. They didn't understand - him here. He was an exile—so I'm going to send him—home.” - </p> - <p> - “He shall have a military funeral,” Rocardo promised. - </p> - <p> - “From the cathedral,” Webster added. “And take a picture - of it for his people. He told me about them. I want them to think he - amounted to something, after all. And when you get this two-by-four - republic of yours going again, Rick, you might have your congress award - Don Juan a thousand dollars <i>oro</i> for capturing Sarros. Then we can - send the money to his old folks.” - </p> - <p> - “But he didn't capture Sarros,” Ricardo protested. - “The man escaped when the Guards cut their way through.” - </p> - <p> - “He didn't. That was a ruse while he beat it out the gate - where you found me. I saw Don Juan knock him cold with the but of his - rifle after I'd brought down his horse.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you think he's there yet?” - </p> - <p> - “He may be—provided all this didn't happen the day - before yesterday. If I wanted him, I'd go down and look for him, - Rick.” - </p> - <p> - “I'll go right away, Jack.” - </p> - <p> - “One minute, then. Send a man around to that little back street - where they have the wounded—it's a couple of blocks away from - here—to tell Mother Jenks and the young lady with her I'll not - be back.” - </p> - <p> - “They're both outside now. They must have gone looking for - you, because they found you and Don Juan first and then told me about it.” - </p> - <p> - “Who told you?” - </p> - <p> - “Mother Jenks.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh! Well, run along and get your man.” Ricardo departed on - the run, taking the sentry at the door with him and in his haste giving no - thought to Mother Jenks and her companion waiting for the doctor's - verdict. In the palace grounds he gathered two more men and bade them - follow him; leading by twenty yards, he emerged at the gate and paused to - look around him. - </p> - <p> - Some hundred feet down the street from the palace gate Sarros's bay - charger lay dead. When Webster's bullet brought the poor beast down, - his rider had fallen clear of him, only to fall a victim to the ferocity - of Don Juan Cafetéro. Later, as Sarros lay stunned and bleeding beside his - mount, the stricken animal in its death-struggle had half risen, only to - fall again, this time on the extended left leg of his late master; - consequently when Sarros recovered consciousness following the thoughtful - attentions of his assailant, it was to discover himself a hopeless - prisoner. The heavy carcass of his horse pinned his foot and part of his - leg to the ground, rendering him as helpless and desperate as a trapped - animal. For several minutes now he had been striving frantically to - release himself; with his sound right leg pressed against the animal's - backbone he tried to gain sufficient purchase to withdraw his left leg - from the carcass. - </p> - <p> - As Ricardo caught sight of Sarros he instinctively realized that this was - his mortal enemy; motioning his men to stand back, he approached the - struggling man on tiptoe and thoughtfully possessed himself of the - dictator's pistol, which lay in back of him but not out of reach. - Just as he did so, Sarros, apparently convinced of the futility of his - efforts to free himself, surrendered to fate and commenced rather - pitifully to weep with rage and despair. - </p> - <p> - Ricardo watched him for a few seconds, for there was just sufficient of - the blood of his Castilian ancestors still in his veins to render this - sorry spectacle rather an enjoyable one to him. Besides, he was 50 per - cent. Iberian, a race which can hate quite as thoroughly as it can love, - and for a time Ricardo even nourished the thought of still further - indulging his thirst for revenge by pretending to aid Sarros in his - escape! Presently, however, he put the ungenerous thought from him; - seizing the dead horse by the tail, he dragged the carcass off his enemy's - leg, and while Sarros sat up, tailor-fashion, and commenced to tub the - circulation back into the bruised member, Ricardo seated himself on the - rump of the dead horse and appraised his prisoner critically. - </p> - <p> - Sarros glanced up, remembered his manners and very heartily and gracefully - thanked his deliverer. - </p> - <p> - “It is not a matter for which thanks are due me, Sarros,” - Ricardo replied coldly. “I am Ricardo Luiz Ruey, and I have come - back to Sobrante to pay my father's debt to you. You will remember - having forced the obligation upon me in the cemetery some fifteen years - ago.” - </p> - <p> - For perhaps ten horrified seconds Sarros stared at Ricardo; then the dark - blood in him came to his defense; his tense pose relaxed; the fright and - despair left his swarthy countenance as if erased with a moist sponge, - leaving him as calmly stoical and indifferent as a cigarstore Indian. He - fumbled in his coat pocket for a gold cigarette case, selected a - cigarette, lighted it and blew smoke at Ricardo. The jig was up; he knew - it; and with admirable nonchalance he declined to lower his presidential - dignity by discussing or considering it. He realized it would delight his - captor to know he dreaded to face the issue, and it was not a Sarros - practice to give aid and comfort to the enemy. - </p> - <p> - “Spunky devil!” Ricardo reflected, forced to admiration - despite himself. Aloud he said: “You know the code of our people, - Sarros. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.” - </p> - <p> - Sarros bowed. “I am at your service,” he replied carelessly. - </p> - <p> - “Then at daylight to-morrow morning I shall make settlement.” - Ricardo beckoned his men to approach. “Take this man and confine him - under a double guard in the arsenal,” he ordered. “Present my - compliments to the officer in charge there and tell him it is my wish that - a priest be provided for the prisoner to-night, and that to-morrow - morning, at six o'clock, a detail of six men and a sergeant escort - this man to the cemetery in the rear of the Catedral de la Cruz. I will - meet the detail there and take command of it.” - </p> - <p> - Two of Ricardo's imported fighting men stepped to the prisoner's - side, seized him, one by each arm, and lifted him to his feet; supported - between them, he limped away to his doom, while his youthful conqueror - remained seated on the dead horse, his gaze bent upon the ground, his mind - dwelling, not upon his triumph over Sarros but upon the prodigious - proportions of the task before him: the rehabilitation of a nation. After - a while he rose and strolled over toward the gate, where he paused to note - the grim evidences of the final stand of Webster and Don Juan Cafetéro - before passing through the portal. . - </p> - <p> - Ricardo had now, for the first time, an opportunity to look around him; so - he halted to realize his homecoming, to thrill with this, the first real - view of the home of his boyhood. The spacious lawn surrounding the palace - had been plowed and scarred with bursting shrapnel from the field guns - captured in the arsenal, although the building itself had been little - damaged, not having sustained a direct hit because of Ricardo's - stringent orders not to use artillery on the palace unless absolutely - necessary to smoke Sarros out. Scattered over the grounds Ricardo counted - some twenty-odd Government soldiers, all wearing that pathetically flat, - crumpled appearance which seems inseparable from the bodies of men killed - in action. The first shrapnel had probably commenced to drop in the - grounds just as a portion of the palace garrison had been marching out to - join the troops fighting at the cantonment barracks. Evidently the men had - scattered like quail, only to be killed as they ran. - </p> - <p> - From this grim scene Ricardo raised his eyes to the palace, the - castellated towers of which, looming through the tufted palms, were - reflecting the setting sun. Over the balustrade of one of the upper - balconies the limp body of a Sarros sharpshooter, picked off from the - street, drooped grotesquely, his arms hanging downward as if in ironical - welcome to the son of Ruey the Beloved. The sight induced in Ricardo a - sense of profound sadness; his Irish imagination awoke; to him that mute - figure seemed to call upon him for pity, for kindness, for forbearance, - for understanding and sympathy. Those outflung arms of the martyred peon - symbolized to Ricardo Ruey the spirit of liberty, shackled and helpless, - calling upon him for deliverance; they brought to his alert mind a clearer - realization of the duty that was his than he had ever had before. He had a - great task to perform, a task inaugurated by his father, and which Ricardo - could not hope to finish in his lifetime. He must solve the agrarian - problem; he must develop the rich natural resources of his country; he - must provide free, compulsory education and evolve from the ignorance of - the peon an intelligence that would built up that which Sobrante, in - common with her sister republics, so woefully lacked—the great - middle class that stands always as a buffer between the aggression and - selfishness of the upper class and the helplessness and childishness of - the lower. - </p> - <p> - Ricardo bowed his head. “Help me, O Lord,” he prayed. “Thou - hast give me in Thy wisdom a man's task. Help me that I may not - prove unworthy.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXVIII - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">M</span>OTHER JENKS, grown - impatient at the lack of news concerning Webster, left Dolores to her - grief in the room across the hall and sought the open air, for of late she - had been experiencing with recurring frequency a slight feeling of - suffocation. She sat down on the broad granite steps, helped herself to a - much-needed “bracer” from her brandy flask and was gazing - pensively at the scene around her when Ricardo came up the stairs. - </p> - <p> - “'Elio!” Mother Jenks saluted him. “W'ere - 'ave you been, Mr. Bowers?” - </p> - <p> - “I have just returned from capturing Sarros, Mrs. Jenks. He is on - his way to the arsenal under guard.” - </p> - <p> - “Gor' strike me pink!” the old lady cried. “'Ave - I lived to see this day!” Her face was wreathed in a happy smile. - “I wonder 'ow the beggar feels to 'ave the shoe on the - other foot, eh—the'eartless'ound! I'm 'opin' - this General Ruey will 'ave the blighter shot.” - </p> - <p> - “You need have no worry on that score, Mrs. Jenks. I'm General - Ruey. Andrew Bowers was just my summer name, as it were.” - </p> - <p> - “Angels guard me! Wot the bloomin' 'ell surprise won't - we 'ave next. Wot branch o' the Ruey tribe do you belong to? - Are you a nephew o' him that was president before Sarros shot - 'im? Antonio Ruey, who was 'arf brother to the president, - 'ad a son 'e called Ricardo. Are you 'im, might I arsk?” - </p> - <p> - “I am the son of Ricardo the Beloved,” he answered proudly. - </p> - <p> - “Not the lad as was away at school when 'is father was - hexecuted?” - </p> - <p> - “I am that same lad, Mrs. Jenks. And who are you? You seem to know a - deal of my family history.” - </p> - <p> - “I,” the old publican replied with equal pride, “am Mrs. - Colonel 'Enery Jenks, who was your father's chief of - hartillery an' 'ad the hextreme honour o' dyin' in - front o' the same wall with 'im. By the w'y, 'ow's - Mr. Webster?” she added, suddenly remembering the subject closest to - her heart just then. - </p> - <p> - “His wounds are trifling. He'll live, Mrs. Jenks.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, that's better than gettin' poked in the eye with - a sharp stick,” the old dame decided philosophically. - </p> - <p> - “Do you remember my little sister, Mrs. Jenks?” Ricardo - continued. “She was in the palace when Sarros attacked it; she - perished there.” - </p> - <p> - “I believe I 'ave got a slight recollection o' the - nipper, sir,” Mother Jenks answered cautiously. To herself she said: - “I s'y, 'Enrietta, 'ere's a pretty go. - 'E don't know the lamb is livin' an' in the next - room! My word, wot a riot w'en 'e meets 'er!” - </p> - <p> - “I will see you again, Mrs. Jenks. I must have a long talk with you,” - Ricardo told her, and passed on into the palace; whereupon Mother Jenks - once more fervently implored the Almighty to strike her pink, and the iron - restraint of a long, hard, exciting day being relaxed at last, the good - soul bowed her gray head in her arms and wept, moving her body from side - to side the while and demanding, of no one in particular, a single - legitimate reason why she, a blooming old baggage and not fit to live, - should be the recipient of such manifold blessings as this day had brought - forth. - </p> - <p> - In the meantime Ricardo, with his hand on the knob of the door leading to - the room where Webster was having his wounds dressed, paused suddenly, his - attention caught by the sound of a sob, long-drawn and inexpressibly - pathetic. He listened and made up his mind that a woman in the room across - the entrance-hall was bewailing the death of a loved one who answered to - the name of Caliph and John darling. Further eavesdropping convinced him - that Caliph, John darling, and Mr. John Stuart Webster were one and the - same person, and so he tilted his head on one side like a cock-robin and - considered. - </p> - <p> - “By jingo, that's most interesting,” he decided. “The - wounded hero has a sweetheart or a wife—and an American, too. She - must be a recent acquisition, because all the time we were together on the - steamer coming down here he never spoke of either, despite the fact that - we got friendly enough for such confidences. Something funny about this. I'd - better sound the old boy before I start passing out words of comfort to - that unhappy female.” - </p> - <p> - He passed on into the room. John Stuart Webster had, by this time, been - washed and bandaged, and one of the Sarros servants (for the ex-dictator's - retinue still occupied the palace) had, at Doctor Pacheco's command, - prepared a guest-chamber upstairs and furnished a nightgown of ample - proportions to cover Mr. Webster's bebandaged but otherwise naked - person. A stretcher had just arrived, and the wounded man was about to be - carried upstairs. The late financial backer of the revolution was looking - very pale and dispirited; for once in his life his whimsical, bantering - nature was subdued. His eyes were closed, and he did not open them when - Ricardo entered. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I have Sarros,” the latter declared. Webster paid not - the slightest attention to this announcement. Ricardo bent over him. - “Jack, old boy,” he queried, “do you know a person of - feminine persuasion who calls you Caliph?” - </p> - <p> - John Stuart Webster's eyes and mouth flew wide open. “What the - devil!” he tried to roar. “You haven't been speaking to - her, have you? If you have, I'll never forgive you, because you've - spoiled my little surprise party.” - </p> - <p> - “No, I haven't been speaking to her, but she's in the - next room crying fit to break her heart because she thinks you've - been killed.” - </p> - <p> - “You scoundrel! Aren't you human? Go tell her it's only - a couple of punctures, not a blowout.” He sighed. “Isn't - it sweet of her to weep over an old hunks like me!” he added softly. - “Bless her tender heart!” - </p> - <p> - “Who is she?” Ricardo was very curious. - </p> - <p> - “That's none of your business. You wait and I'll tell - you. She's the guest I told you I was going to bring to dinner, and - that's enough for you to know for the present. <i>Vaya</i>, you - idiot, and bring her in here, so I can assure her my head is bloody but - unbowed. Doctor, throw that rug over my shanks and make me look pretty. I'm - going to receive company.” - </p> - <p> - His glance, bent steadily on the door, had in it some of the alert, bright - wistfulness frequently to be observed in the eyes of a terrier standing - expectantly before a rat-hole. The instant the door opened and Dolores's - tear-stained face appeared, he called to her with the old-time - camaraderie, for he had erased from his mind, for the nonce, the memory of - the tragedy of poor Don Juan Cafetéro and was concerned solely with the - task of banishing the tears from those brown eyes and bringing the joy of - life back to that sweet face. - </p> - <p> - “Hello, Seeress,” he called weakly. “Little Johnny's - been fighting again, and the bad boys gave him an all-fired walloping.” - </p> - <p> - There was a swift rustle of skirts, and she was bending over him, her hot - little palms clasping eagerly his pale, rough cheeks. “Oh, my dear, - my dear!” she whispered, and then her voice choked with the happy - tears and she was sobbing on his wounded shoulder. Ricardo stooped to draw - her away, but John Stuart bent upon him a look of such frightfulness that - he drew back abashed. After all, the past twenty-four hours had been quite - exciting, and Ricardo reflected that John's inamorata was tired and - frightened and probably hadn't eaten anything all day long, so there - was ample excuse for her hysteria. - </p> - <p> - “Come, come, buck up,” Webster soothed her, and helped himself - to a long whiff of her fragrant hair. “Old man Webster had one leg - in the grave, but they've pulled it out again.” - </p> - <p> - Still she sobbed. - </p> - <p> - “Now, listen to me, lady,” he commanded with mock severity. - “You just stop that. You're wasting your sympathy; and while, - of course, I enjoy your sympathy a heap, just pause to reflect on the - result if those salt tears should happen to drop into one of my numerous - wounds.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm so sorry for you, Caliph,” she murmured brokenly. - “You poor, harmless boy! I don't see how any one could be so - fiendish as to hurt you when you were so distinctly a non-combatant.” - </p> - <p> - “Thank you. Let us forget the Hague Conference for the present, - however. Have you met your brother?” he whispered. - </p> - <p> - “No, Caliph.” - </p> - <p> - “Ricardo.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, Jack.” - </p> - <p> - “Come here. Rick, you scheming, unscrupulous, bloodthirsty - adventurer, I have a tremendous surprise in store for you. The sweetest - girl in the world—and she's right here——” - </p> - <p> - Ricardo laughingly held up his hand. “Jack, my friend,” he - interrupted, “you're too weak to make a speech. Don't do - it. Besides, you do not have to.” He turned and bowed gracefully to - Dolores. “I can see for myself she's the sweetest girl in the - world, and that she's right here.” He held out his hand to - her. “Jack thinks he's going to spring a surprise,” he - continued maliciously, “quite forgetting that a good soldier never - permits himself to be taken by surprise. I know all about his little - secret, because I heard you mourning for him when you thought he was dead.” - Ricardo favoured her with a knowing wink. “I am delighted to meet - the future Mrs. Webster. I quite understand why you fell in love with him, - because, you see, I love him myself and do does everybody else.” - </p> - <p> - With typical Castilian courtliness he took her hand, bowed low over it, - and kissed it. “I am Ricardo Luiz Ruey,” he said, anxious to - spare his friend the task of further exhausting conversation. “And - you are——” - </p> - <p> - “You're a consummate jackass!” groaned Webster. “I'm - only a dear old family friend, and Dolores is going to marry Billy Geary. - You impetuous idiot! She's your own sister Dolores Ruey. She, Mark - Twain, and I have ample cause for common complaint against the world - because the reports of our death have been grossly exaggerated. She didn't - perish when your father's administration crumbled. Miss Ruey, this - is your brother Ricardo. Kiss her you damn' fool—forgive me, - Miss Ruey—oh, Lord, nothing matters any more. He's gummed - everything up and ruined my party. I wish I were dead.” - </p> - <p> - Ricardo stared from the outraged Webster to his sister and back again. - </p> - <p> - “Jack Webster,” he declared, “you aren't crazy, - are you?” - </p> - <p> - “Of course he is—the old dear,” Dolores cried happily, - “but I'm not.” She stepped up to her brother, and her - arms went around his neck. “Oh, Rick,” she cried, “I'm - your sister. Truly, I am.” - </p> - <p> - “Dolores. My little lost sister Dolores? Why, I can't believe - it!” - </p> - <p> - “Well, you'd better believe it,” John Stuart Webster - growled feebly. “Of course, you can doubt my word and get away with - it, now that I'm flat on my back, but if you dare cast aspersions on - that girl's veracity, I'll murder you a month from now.” - </p> - <p> - He closed his eyes, feeling instinctively that he ought not spy on such a - sacred family scene. When, however, the affecting meeting was over and - Dolores was ruffling the Websterian foretop while her brother pressed the - Websterian hand and tried to say all the things he felt but couldn't - express, John Stuart Webster brought them both back to a realization of - present conditions. - </p> - <p> - “Don't thank me, sir,” he piped in pathetic imitation of - the small boy of melodrama. “I have only done me duty, and for that - I cannot accept this purse of gold, even though my father and mother are - starving.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, Caliph, do be serious,” Dolores pleaded. - </p> - <p> - He looked up at her fondly. “Take your brother out to Mother Jenks - and prove your case, Miss Ruey,” he advised her. “And while - you're at it, I certainly hope somebody will remember I'm not - accustomed to reposing on a centre table. Rick, if you can persuade some - citizen of this conquered commonwealth to put me to bed, I'd be - obliged. I'm dead tired, old horse. I'm—ah—sleepy——” - </p> - <p> - His head rolled weakly to one side, for he had been playing a part and had - nerved himself to finish it gracefully, even in his weakened condition. He - sighed, moaned slightly, and slipped into unconsciousness. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXIX - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HROUGHOUT the - night there was sporadic firing here and there in the city, as the Ruey - followers relentlessly hunted down the isolated detachment of Government - troops which had escaped annihilation and capture in the final rout and - fallen back on the city, where, concealing themselves according to their - nature and inclination, they indulged in more or less sniping from windows - and the roofs of buildings. The practice of taking no prisoners was an old - one in Sobrante, and few presidents had done more than Sarros to keep that - custom alive; ergo, firm in the conviction that to surrender was - tantamount to facing a firing squad at daylight, the majority of these - stragglers, with consummate courage, fought to the death. - </p> - <p> - The capture of Buenaventura was alone sufficient to insure a brief - revolution, but the capture of Sarros was ample guarantee that the - resistance to the new order of things was already at an end. However, - Ricardo Ruey felt that the prompt execution of Sarros would be an added - guarantee of peace by effectually discouraging any opposition to the rebel - cause in the outlying districts, where a few isolated garrisons still - remained in ignorance of the momentous events being enacted in the - capital. For the time being, Ricardo was master of life and death in - Sobrante, and all of his advisers and supporters agreed with him that a - so-called trial of the ex-dictator would be a rather useless affair. His - life was forfeit a hundred times for murder and treason, and to be - ponderous over his elimination would savour of mockery. Accordingly, at - midnight, a priest entered the room in the arsenal where Sarros was - confined, and shrived him. Throughout the night the priest remained with - him, and when that early morning march to the cemetery commenced, he - walked beside Sarros, repeating the prayers for the dying. - </p> - <p> - Upon reaching the cemetery there was a slight wait until a carriage drove - up and discharged Ricardo Ruey and Mother Jenks. The sergeant in command - of the squad saluted and was briefly ordered to proceed with the matter in - hand; whereupon he turned to Sarros, who with the customary <i>sang froid</i> - of his kind upon such occasions was calmly smoking, and bowed - deprecatingly. Sarros actually smiled upon him. “<i>Adios, amigos</i>” - he murmured. Then, as an afterthought and probably because he was - sufficient of an egoist to desire to appear a martyr, he added heroically: - “I die for my country. May God have mercy on my enemies.” - </p> - <p> - “If you'd cared to play a gentleman's game, you - blighter, you might 'ave lived for your bally country,” Mother - Jenks reminded him in English. “Wonder if the beggar 'll wilt - or will 'e go through smilin' like my sainted 'Enery on - the syme spot.” - </p> - <p> - She need not have worried. It requires a strong man to be dictator of a - Roman-candle republic for fifteen years, and whatever his sins of omission - or commission, Sarros did not lack animal courage. Alone and unattended he - limped away among the graves to the wall on the other side of the cemetery - and placed his back against it, negligently in the attitude of a - devil-may-care fellow without a worry in life. The sergeant waited - respectfully until Sarros had finished his cigarette; when he tossed it - away and straightened to attention, the sergeant knew he was ready to die. - At his command there was a sudden rattle of bolts as the cartridges slid - from the magazines into the breeches; there followed a momentary halt, - another command; the squad was aiming when Ricardo Ruey called sharply: - </p> - <p> - “Sergeant, do not give the order to fire.” - </p> - <p> - The rifles were lowered and the men gazed wonderingly at Ricardo. “He's - too brave,” Ricardo complained. “Damn him, I can't kill - him as I would a mad-dog. I've got to give him a chance.” The - sergeant raised his brows expressively. Ah, the <i>ley fuga</i>, that - popular form of execution where the prisoner is given a running chance, - and the firing-squad practises wing shooting If the prisoner manages, - miraculously, to escape, he is not pursued! - </p> - <p> - A doubt, however, crossed the sergeant's mind. “But, my - general,” he expostulated, “Senor Sarros cannot accept the <i>ley - fuga</i>. He is very lame. That is not giving him the chance your - Excellency desires he should have.” - </p> - <p> - “I wasn't thinking of that,” Ricardo replied. “I - was thinking I'm killing him without a fair trial for the reason - that he's so infernally ripe for the gallows that a trial would have - been a joke. Nevertheless, I am really killing him because he killed my - father—and that is scarcely fair. My father was a gentleman. - Sergeant, is your pistol loaded?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, General.” - </p> - <p> - “Give it to Senor Sarros.” - </p> - <p> - As the sergeant started forward to comply Ricardo drew his own service - revolver and then motioned Mother Jenks and the firing-squad to stand - aside while he crossed to the centre of the cemetery. “Sarros,” - he called, “I am going to let God decide which one of us shall live. - When the sergeant gives the command to fire, I shall open fire on you, and - you are free to do the same to me. Sergeant, if he kills me and escapes - unhurt, my orders are to escort him to the bay in my carriage and put him - safely aboard the steamer.” - </p> - <p> - Mother Jenks sat down on a tombstone. “Gord's truth!” - she gasped, “but there's a rare plucked 'un.” - Aloud she croaked: “Don't be a bally ass, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “Silence!” he commanded. - </p> - <p> - The sergeant handed Sarros the revolver. “You heard what I said?” - Ricardo called. - </p> - <p> - Sarros bowed gravely. - </p> - <p> - “You understand your orders, Sergeant?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, General.” - </p> - <p> - “Very well. Proceed. If this prisoner fires before you give the - word, have your squad riddle him.” The sergeant backed away and - gazed owlishly from the prisoner to his captor. “Ready!” he - called. Both revolvers came up. “Fire!” he shouted, and the - two shots were discharged simultaneously. Ricardo's cap flew off his - head, but he remained standing, while Sarros staggered back against the - wall and there recovering himself gamely, fired again. He scored a clean - miss, and Ricardo's gun barked three times; Sarros sprawled on his - face, rose to his knees, raised his pistol halfway, fired into the sky and - slid forward on his face. Ricardo stood beside the body until the sergeant - approached and stood to attention, his attitude saying: - </p> - <p> - “It is over. What next, General?” - </p> - <p> - “Take the squad back to the arsenal, Sergeant,” Ricardo - ordered him coolly, and walked back to recover his uniform cap. He was - smiling as he ran his finger through a gaping hole in the upper half of - the crown. - </p> - <p> - “Well, Mrs. Jenks,” he announced when he rejoined the old - lady, “that was better than executing him with a firing-squad. I - gave him a square deal. Now his friends can never say that I murdered him.” - He extended his hand to help Mother Jenks to her feet. She stood erect and - felt again that queer swelling of the heart, the old feeling of - suffocation. - </p> - <p> - “Steady, lass!” she mumbled. “'Old on to me, sir. - It's my bally haneurism. Gor'—I'm—chokin'——” - </p> - <p> - He caught her in his arms as she lurched toward him. Her face was purple, - and in her eyes there was a queer fierce light that went out suddenly, - leaving them dull and glazed. When she commenced to sag in his arms, he - eased her gently to the ground and laid her on her back in the grass. - </p> - <p> - “The nipper's safe, 'Enery,” he heard her murmur. - “I've raised 'er a lydy, s'elp me—she's - back where—you found 'er— 'Enery——” - </p> - <p> - She quivered, and the light came creeping back into her eyes before it - faded forever. “Comin', 'Enery—darlin',” - she whispered; and then the soul of Mother Jenks, who had a code and lived - up to it (which is more than the majority of us do), had departed upon the - ultimate journey. Ricardo gazed down on the hard old mouth, softened now - by a little half-smile of mingled yearning and gladness: “What a - wonderful soul you had,” he murmured, and kissed her. - </p> - <p> - In the end she slept in the niche in the wall of the Catedral de la Vera - Cruz, beside her sainted 'Enery. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXX - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HREE days passed. - Don Juan Cafetéro had been buried with all the pomp and circumstance of a - national hero; Mother Jenks, too, had gone to her appointed resting-place, - and El Buen Amigo had been closed forever. Ricardo had issued a - proclamation announcing himself provisional president of Sobrante; a - convention of revolutionary leaders had been held, and a provisional - cabinet selected. A day for the national elections had been named; the - wreckage of the brief revolution had been cleared away, and the wheels of - government were once more revolving freely and noiselessly. And while all - of this had been going on, John Stuart Webster had lain on his back, - staring at the palace ceiling and absolutely forbidden to receive - visitors. He was still engaged in this mild form of gymnastics on the - third day when the door of his room opened and Dolores looked in on him. - </p> - <p> - “Good evening, Caliph,” she called. “Aren't you - dead yet?” - </p> - <p> - It was exactly the tone she should have adopted to get the best results, - for Webster had been mentally and physically ill since she had seen him - last, and needed some such pleasantry as this to lift him out of his - gloomy mood. He grinned at her boyishly. - </p> - <p> - “No, I'm not dead. On the contrary, I'm feeling real - chirpy. Won't you come in and visit for a while, Miss Ruey?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, since you've invited me, I shall accept.” - Entering, she stood beside his bed and took the hand he extended toward - Her. “This is the first opportunity I've had, Miss Ruey,” - he began, “to apologize for the shock I gave you the other day. I - should have come back to you as I promised, instead of getting into a - fight and scaring you half to death. I hope you'll forgive me, - because I'm paying for my fun now—with interest.” - </p> - <p> - “Very well, Caliph. I'll forgive you—on one condition.” - </p> - <p> - “Who am I to resist having a condition imposed upon me? Name your - terms. I shall obey.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm weary of being called Miss Ruey. I want to be Dolores—to - you.” - </p> - <p> - “By the toenails of Moses,” he reflected, “there is no - escape. She's determined to rock the boat.” Aloud he said: - “All right, Dolores. I suppose I may as well take the license of the - old family friend. I guess Bill won't mind.” - </p> - <p> - “Billy hasn't a word to say about it,” she retorted, - regarding him with that calm, impersonal, yet vitally interested look that - always drove him frantic with the desire for her. - </p> - <p> - “Well, of course, I understand that,” he countered. “Naturally, - since Bill is only a man, you'll have to manage him and he'll - have to take orders.” - </p> - <p> - “Caliph, you're a singularly persistent man, once you get an - idea into your head. Please understand me, once for all: Billy Geary is a - dear, and it's a mystery to me why every girl in the world isn't - perfectly crazy about him, but every rule has its exceptions—and - Billy and I are just good friends. I'd like to know where you got - the idea we're engaged to be married.” - </p> - <p> - “Why—why—well, aren't you?” - </p> - <p> - “Certainly not.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, you—er—you ought to be. I expected—that is, - I planned—I mean Bill told me and—and—and—er—it - never occurred to me you could possibly have the—er—crust—to - refuse him. Of course you're going to marry him when he asks you?” - </p> - <p> - “Of course I am not.” - </p> - <p> - “Ah-h-h-h!” John Stuart Webster gazed at her in frank - amazement. “Not going to marry Bill Geary!” he cried, highly - scandalized. - </p> - <p> - “I know you think I ought to, and I suppose it will appear quite - incomprehensible to you when I do not——” - </p> - <p> - “Why, Dolores, my dear girl! This is most amazing. Didn't Bill - ask you to marry him before he left?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, he did me that honour, and I declined him.” - </p> - <p> - “You <i>what!</i>” - </p> - <p> - She smiled at him so maternally that his hand itched to drag her down to - him and kiss her curving lips. - </p> - <p> - “Do you mind telling me just why you took this extraordinary - attitude?” - </p> - <p> - “You have no right to ask, but I'll tell you. I refused Billy - because I didn't love him enough—that way. What's more, - I never could.” - </p> - <p> - He rolled his head to one side and softly, very softly, whistled two bars - of “The Spanish Cavalier” through his teeth He was properly - thunder-struck—so much so, in fact, that for a moment he actually - forgot her presence the while he pondered this most incredible state of - affairs. - </p> - <p> - “I see it all now. It's as clear as mud,” he announced - finally. “You refused poor old Bill and broke his heart, and so he - went away and hasn't had the courage to write me since. I'm - afraid Bill and I both regarded this fight as practically won—all - over but the wedding-march, as one might put it. I might as well confess I - hustled the boy down from the mine just so you two could get married and - light out on your honeymoon I figured Bill could kill two birds with one - stone—have his honeymoon and get rid of his malaria, and return here - in three or four months to relieve me, after I had the mine in operation. - Poor boy. That was a frightful song-and-dance you gave him.” - </p> - <p> - “I suspected you were the matchmaker in this case. I must say I - think you're old enough to know better, Caliph John.” - </p> - <p> - “You did, eh? Well, what made you think so?” - </p> - <p> - She chuckled. “Oh, you're very obvious—to a woman.” - </p> - <p> - “I forgot that you reveal the past and foretell the future.” - </p> - <p> - “You are really very clumsy, Caliph. You should never try to direct - the destiny of any woman.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm on the sick list,” he pleaded, “and it isn't - sporting of you to discuss me. You're healthy—so let us - discuss you. Dolores, do you figure Bill's case to be absolutely - hopeless?” - </p> - <p> - “Absolutely, Caliph.” - </p> - <p> - “Hum-m-m!” - </p> - <p> - Again Webster had recourse to meditation, seeing which, Dolores walked to - the pier-glass in the corner, satisfied herself that her coiffure was just - so and returned to his side, singing softly a little song that had floated - out over the transom of Webster's room door into the hall one night: - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - A Spanish cavalier, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Went out to rope a steer, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Along with his paper <i>cigar-r-ro!</i> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - “<i>Caramba!</i>” said he. - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - “<i>Manana</i> you will be - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - <i>Muchù bueno carne por mio</i>” - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - He turned his head and looked up at her suddenly, searchingly. “Is - there anybody else in Bill's way?” he demanded. “I admit - it's none of my business, but———-” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, Caliph, there is some one else.” - </p> - <p> - “I thought so.” This rather viciously. “I'm - willing to gamble a hundred to one, sight unseen, that whoever he is, he - isn't half the man Bill is.” - </p> - <p> - “That,” she replied coldly, “is a matter of personal - opinion.” - </p> - <p> - “And Bill's clock is fixed for keeps?' - </p> - <p> - “Yes, Caliph. And he never had a chance from the start.” - </p> - <p> - “Why not?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I met the other man first, Caliph.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh! Do you mind telling me what this other man does for a living?” - </p> - <p> - “He's a mining man, like Billy.” - </p> - <p> - “All right! Has the son of a horsethief got a mine like Bill's? - That's something to consider, Dolores.” - </p> - <p> - “He has a mine fully as good as Billy's. Like Billy, he owns a - half interest in it, too.” - </p> - <p> - “Hum-m-m! How long have you known him?” - </p> - <p> - “Not very long.” - </p> - <p> - “Be sure you're right—then go ahead,” John Stuart - Webster warned her. “Don't marry in haste and repent at - leisure, Dolores. Know your man before you let him buy the wedding ring. - There's a heap of difference, my dear, between sentiment and - sentimentality.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm sure of my man, Caliph.” - </p> - <p> - He was silent again, thinking rapidly. “Well, of course,” he - began again presently, “while there was the slightest possibility of - Bill winning you, I would have died before saying that which I am about to - say to you now, Dolores, because Bill is my friend, and I'd never - double-cross him. With reference to this other man, however, I have no - such code to consider. I'm pretty well convinced I'm out of - the running, but I'll give that lad a race if it's the last - act of my life. He's a stranger to me, and he isn't on the job - to protect his claim, so why shouldn't I stake it if I can? But are - you quite certain you aren't making a grave mistake in refusing - Billy? He's quite a boy, my dear. I know him from soul to - suspenders, and he'd be awfully good to you. He's kind and - gentle and considerate, and he's not a mollycoddle, either.” - </p> - <p> - “I can't help it, Caliph. Please don't talk about him - any more. I know somebody who is kinder and nobler and gentler.” She - ceased abruptly, fearful of breaking down her reserve and saying too much. - </p> - <p> - “Well, if Bill's case is hopeless”—his hand came - groping for hers, while he held her with his searching, wistful glance—“I - wonder what mine looks like. That is, Dolores, I—I——' - </p> - <p> - “Yes, John?” - </p> - <p> - “I've played fair with my friend,” he whispered eagerly. - “I'm not going to ask you to marry me, but I want to tell you - that to me you're such a very wonderful woman I can't help - loving you with my whole heart and soul.' - </p> - <p> - “I have suspected this, John,” she replied gravely. - </p> - <p> - “I suppose so. I'm such an obvious old fool. I've had my - dream, and I've put it behind me, but I—I just want you to - know I love you; so long as I live, I shall want to serve you when you're - married to this other man, and things do not break just right for you both—if - I have something he wants, in order to make you happy, I want you to know - it's yours to give to him. I—I—I guess that's all, - Dolores.” - </p> - <p> - “Thank you, John. Would you like to know this man I'm going to - marry?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I think I'd like to congratulate the scoundrel.” - </p> - <p> - “Then I'll introduce you to him, John. I first met him on a - train in Death Valley, California. He was a shaggy old dear, all whiskers - and rags, but his whiskers couldn't hide his smile, and his rags - couldn't hide his manhood, and when he thrashed a drummer because - the man annoyed me, I just couldn't help falling in love with him. - Even when he fibbed to me and disputed my assertion that we had met before——” - </p> - <p> - “Good land of love—and the calves got loose!” he almost - shouted as he held up his one sound arm to her. “My dear, my dear——” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, sweetheart,” she whispered laying her hot cheek against - his, “it's taken you so long to say it, but I love you all the - more for the dear thoughts that made you hesitate.” - </p> - <p> - He was silent a few moments, digesting his amazement, speechless with the - great happiness that was his—and then Dolores was kissing the back - of the hand of that helpless, bandaged arm lying across his breast. He had - a tightening in his throat, for he had not expected love; and that sweet, - benignant, humble little kiss spelled adoration and eternal surrender; - when she looked at him again the mists of joy were in his eyes. - </p> - <p> - “Dear old Caliph John!” she crooned. “He's never - had a woman to understand his funny ways and appreciate them and take care - of him, has he?” She patted his cheek. “And bless his simple - old heart, he would rather give up his love than be false to his friend. - Yes, indeed. Johnny Webster respects 'No Shooting' signs when - he sees them, but he tells fibs and pretends to be very stupid when he - really isn't. So you wouldn't be false to Billy—eh, - dear? I'm glad to know that, because the man who cannot be false to - his friend can never be false to his wife.” - </p> - <p> - He crushed her down to him and held her there for a long time. “My - dear,” he said presently, “isn't there something you - have to say to me?” - </p> - <p> - “I love you, John,” she whispered, and sealed the sweet - confession with a true lover's kiss. - </p> - <p> - “All's well with the world,” John Stuart Webster - announced when he could use his lips once more for conversation. “And,” - he added, “owing to the fact that I started a trifle late in life, I - believe I could stand a little more of the same.” - </p> - <p> - The door opened and Ricardo looked in on them. “Killjoy!” - Webster growled. “Old Killjoy the Thirteenth, King of Sobrante. Is - this a surprise to you?” - </p> - <p> - “Not a bit of it, Jack. I knew it was due.” - </p> - <p> - “Am I welcome in the Ruey family?” - </p> - <p> - Ricardo came over and kissed his sister. “Don't be a lobster, - Jack,” he protested. “I dislike foolish questions.” And - he pressed his friend's hand with a fervour that testified to his - pleasure. - </p> - <p> - “I'm sorry to crowd in at a time like this, Jack,” he - continued, with a hug for Dolores, “but Mr. What-you-may-call-him, - the American consul, has called to pay his respects. As a fellow-citizen - of yours, he is vitally interested in your welfare. Would you care to - receive him for a few minutes?” - </p> - <p> - “One minute will do,” Webster declared with emphasis. “Show - the human slug up, Rick.” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Lemuel Tolliver tripped breezily in with outstretched hand. “My - dear Mr. Webster,” he began, but Webster cut him short with a - peremptory gesture. - </p> - <p> - “Listen, friend Tolliver,” he said. “The only reason I - received you was to tell you I'm going to remain in this country - awhile and help develop it. I may even conclude to grow up with it. I - shall not, of course, renounce my American citizenship; and of course, as - an American citizen, I am naturally interested in the man my country sends - to Sobrante to represent it. I might as well be frank and tell you that - you won't do. I called on you once to do your duty, and you weren't - there; I told you then I might have something to say about your job later - on, and now I'm due to say it. Mr. Tolliver, I'm the power - behind the throne in this little Jim-crow country, and to quote your own - elegant phraseology, you, as American consul, are <i>nux vomica</i> to the - Sobrantean government. Moreover, as soon as the Sobrantean ambassador - reaches Washington, he's going to tell the President that you are, - and then the President will be courteous enough to remove you. In the - meantime, fare thee well, Mr. Consul.” - </p> - <p> - “But, Mr. Webster——” - </p> - <p> - “<i>Vaya!</i>” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Tolliver, appreciating the utter futility of argument, bowed and - departed. - </p> - <p> - “Verily, life grows sweeter with each passing day,” Webster - murmured whimsically. “Rick, old man, I think you had better escort - the Consul to the front door. Your presence is <i>nux vomica</i> to me - also. See that you back me up and dispose of that fellow Tolliver, or you - can't come to our wedding—can he, sweetheart?” - </p> - <p> - When Ricardo had taken his departure, laughing, John Stuart Webster looked - up quite seriously at his wife-to-be. “Can you explain to me, - Dolores,” he asked, “how it happened that your relatives and - your father's old friends here in Sobrante, whom you met shortly - after your arrival, never informed you that Ricardo was living?” - </p> - <p> - “They didn't know any more about him than I did, and he left - here as a mere boy. He was scarcely acquainted with his relatives, all of - whom bowed quite submissively to the Sarros yoke. Indeed, my father's - half-brother, Antonio Ruey, actually accepted a portfolio under the Sarros - régime and held it up to his death. Ricardo has a wholesome contempt for - his relatives, and as for his father's old friends, none of them - knew anything about his plans. Apparently his identity was known only to - the Sarros intelligence bureau, and it did not permit the information to - leak out.” - </p> - <p> - “Funny mix-up,” he commented. “And by the way, where did - you get all the inside dope about Neddy Jerome?” - </p> - <p> - She laughed and related to him the details of Neddy's perfidy. - </p> - <p> - “And you actually agreed to deliver me, hog-tied and helpless to - that old schemer, Dolores?” - </p> - <p> - “Why not, dear. I loved you; I always meant to marry you, if you'd - let me; and ten thousand dollars would have lasted me for pin money a long - time.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, you and Neddy have both lost out. Better send the old pelican - a cable and wake him out of his day-dream.” - </p> - <p> - “I sent the cable yesterday, John dear.” - </p> - <p> - “Extraordinary woman!” - </p> - <p> - “I've just received an answer. Neddy has spent nearly fifty - dollars telling me by cable what a fine man you are and how thankful I - ought to be to the good Lord for permitting you to marry me.” - </p> - <p> - “Dolores, you are perfectly amazing. I only proposed to you a minute - ago.” - </p> - <p> - “I know you did, slow-poke, but that is not your fault. You would - have proposed to me yesterday, only I thought best not to disturb you - until you were a little stronger. This evening, however, I made up my mind - to settle the matter, and so I——” - </p> - <p> - “But suppose I hadn't proposed to you, after all?” - </p> - <p> - “Then, John, I should have proposed to you, I fear.” - </p> - <p> - “But you were running an awful risk, sending that telegram to Neddy - Jerome.” - </p> - <p> - She took one large red ear in each little hand and shook his head - lovingly. “Silly,” she whispered, “don't be a - goose. I knew you loved me; I would have known it, even if Neddy Jerome - hadn't told me so. So I played a safe game all the way through, and - oh, dear Caliph John, I'm so happy I could cry.” - </p> - <p> - “God bless my mildewed soul,” John Stuart Webster murmured - helplessly. The entire matter was quite beyond his comprehension! - </p> - <h3> - THE END - </h3> - <div style="height: 6em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Webster--Man's Man, by Peter B. 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- Webster--Man's Man, by Peter B. Kyne
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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Webster--Man's Man, by Peter B. Kyne
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-
-
-
-Title: Webster--Man's Man
-
-Author: Peter B. Kyne
-
-Illustrator: Dean Cornwell
-
-Release Date: May 3, 2016 [EBook #51987]
-Last Updated: March 12, 2018
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WEBSTER--MAN'S MAN ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by David Widger from page images generously
-provided by the Internet Archive
-
-
-
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-
-</pre>
- <div style="height: 8em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h1>
- WEBSTER—MAN'S MAN
- </h1>
- <h2>
- By Peter B. Kyne
- </h2>
- <h4>
- Author Of “Cappy Ricks” “The Three Godfathers,”
- Etc.
- </h4>
- <h3>
- Illustrated By Dean Cornwell
- </h3>
- <h4>
- New York
- </h4>
- <h4>
- Doubleday, Page & Company
- </h4>
- <h3>
- 1917
- </h3>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0006.jpg" alt="0006 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0006.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0007.jpg" alt="0007 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0007.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <p>
- <b>CONTENTS</b>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>WEBSTER—MAN'S MAN</b> </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX </a>
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h1>
- WEBSTER—MAN'S MAN
- </h1>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER I
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>HEN John Stuart
- Webster, mining engineer and kicker-up-of-dust on distant trails, flagged
- the S. P., L. A. & S. L. Limited at a blistered board station in Death
- Valley, California, he had definitely resolved to do certain things. To
- begin, he would invade the dining car at the first call to dinner and
- order approximately twenty dollars' worth of ham and eggs, which
- provender is, as all who know will certify, the pinnacle of epicurean
- delight to an old sour-dough coming out of the wilderness with a healthy
- bankroll and a healthier appetite; for even as the hydrophobic dog avoids
- water, so does the adventurer of the Webster type avoid the weird
- concoctions of high-priced French chefs until he has first satisfied that
- void which yawns to receive ham and eggs.
- </p>
- <p>
- Following the ham and eggs, Mr. Webster planned to saturate himself from
- soul to vermiform appendix with nicotine, which he purposed obtaining from
- tobacco with nicotine in it. It was a week since he had smoked anything,
- and months since he had tasted anything with an odour even remotely like
- tobacco, for the August temperature in Death Valley is no respecter of
- moisture in any man or his tobacco. By reason of the fact that he had not
- always dwelt in Death Valley, however, John Stuart Webster knew the
- dining-car steward would have in the ice chest some wonderful cigars,
- wonderfully preserved.
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster realized that, having sampled civilization thus far, his debauch
- would be at an end until he reached Salt Lake City-unless, indeed, he
- should find aboard the train something fit to read or somebody worth
- talking to. Upon arrival in Salt Lake City, however, his spree would
- really begin. Immediately upon leaving the train he would proceed to a
- clothing shop and purchase a twenty-five-dollar ready-to-wear suit,
- together with the appurtenances thereunto pertaining or in any wise
- belonging. These habiliments he would wear just long enough to shop in
- respectably and without attracting the attention of the passing throng;
- and when later his “tailor-mades” and sundry other finery
- should be delivered, he would send the store clothes to one Ubehebe Henry,
- a prospector down in the Mojave country, who would appreciate them and
- wear them when he came to town in the fall to get drunk.
- </p>
- <p>
- Having arranged for the delivery of his temporary attire at the best hotel
- in town, Webster designed chartering a taxicab and proceeding forthwith to
- that hotel, where he would engage a sunny room with a bath, fill the
- bathtub, climb blithely in and soak for two hours at least, for it was
- nearly eight months since he had had a regular bath and he purposed making
- the most of his opportunity. His long-drawn ablutions at length over, he
- would don a silken dressing gown and slippers, order up a barber, and
- proceed to part with enough hair and whiskers to upholster an automobile;
- and upon the completion of his tonsorial adventures he would encase his
- person in a suit of mauve-coloured silk pajamas, climb into bed and stay
- there for forty-eight hours, merely waking long enough to take another
- bath, order up periodical consignments of ham and eggs and, incidentally,
- make certain that a friendly side-winder or chuck-walla hadn't
- crawled under the blankets with him.
- </p>
- <p>
- So much for John Stuart Webster's plans. Now for the gentleman
- himself. No one—not even the Pullman porter, shrewd judge of mankind
- that he was—could have discerned in the chrysalis that flagged the
- Limited the butterfly of fashion that was to be. As the ebony George
- raised the vestibule platform, opened the car door and looked out, he had
- no confidence in the lean, sun-baked big man standing by the train.
- Plainly the fellow was not a first-class passenger but a wandering
- prospector, for he was dog-dirty, a ruin of rags and hairy as a tarantula.
- The only clean thing about him was a heavy-calibred automatic pistol of
- the army type, swinging at his hip.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Day coach an' tourist up in front,” the knight of the
- whiskbroom announced in disapproving tones and started to close down the
- platform.
- </p>
- <p>
- “So I perceived,” John Stuart Webster replied blandly. “I
- also observed that you failed to employ the title <i>sir</i> when
- addressing a white man. Put that platform back and hop out here with your
- little stool, you saddle-coloured son of Senegambia, or I'll make
- you a hard porter to catch.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yassah, yassah!” the porter sputtered, and obeyed instantly.
- Mr. Webster handed him a disreputable-looking suitcase and stepped aboard
- in state, only to be informed by the sleeping-car conductor that there
- wasn't a vacant first-class berth on the train.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, I know I'm dirty,” the late arrival announced
- cheerfully, “but still, as Bobby Burns once remarked, 'a man's
- a man for a' that'—and I'm <i>not</i> unsanitary.
- I sloshed around some in Furnace Creek the night before last, and while of
- course I got the top layer off, still, a fellow can't accomplish a
- great deal without hot water, soap, a good scrubbing-brush and a can of
- lye.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm very sorry,” the conductor replied perfunctorily
- and endeavoured to pass on, but Webster secured a firm grip on his lapel
- and frustrated the escape.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You're not sorry,” the ragged wanderer declared,
- “not one little bit. You're only apprehensive. However, you
- needn't be. There is no wild life on me, brother, I assure you. If
- you can prove it, I'll give you a thousand-dollar bill for each and
- every bit of testimony you can adduce.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But I tell you, the train is full up. You'll have to roost in
- the daycoach or the tourist. I'm very sorry——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “So am I, for I know what daycoaches and tourist-cars smell like in
- the middle of August, because, as the poet says, I've been there
- many a time and oft.' Nevertheless, despite your deep grief,
- something tells me you're spoofing, so while I must, of necessity,
- accept your suggestion, said acceptance will be but temporary. In about
- two hours, young fellow, you're going to make the alarming discovery
- that you have bats in your belfry.” And with a whiskery grin which,
- under the circumstances, was charming in its absolute freedom from malice,
- Mr. Webster departed for the daycoach.
- </p>
- <p>
- Two hours later the conductor found him in the aforementioned daycoach,
- engaged in a mild game of poker with a mule-skinner, a Chinaman, an aged
- prospector, and a half-breed Indian, and waited until Mr. Webster, on a
- bob-tailed club flush, bluffed the Chinaman out of a dollar-and-a-half
- pot.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Maud, Lily, and Kate!” Webster murmured, as the Celestial
- laid down three queens and watched his ragged opponent rake in the pot.
- “Had I held those three queens and had you made a two-card draw as I
- did, only death could have stopped me from seeing what you held! Hello!
- Here's Little Boy Blue again. All right, son. Blow your horn.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Are you Mr. John S. Webster?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Your assumption that I am that person is so eminently correct that
- it would be a waste of time for me to dispute it,” Webster replied
- quizzically. “However, just to prove that you're not the only
- clairvoyant on this train, I'm going to tell <i>you</i> something
- about <i>yourself</i>. In your pocket you have a telegram; it is from
- Chicago, where your pay-check originates; it is a short, sweet, and
- comprehensive, containing an order which you are going to obey. It reads
- somewhat as follows:
- </p>
- <p>
- “'My friend, John S. Webster, wires me from Blank that he
- boarded train at Blank and was refused first-class accommodation because
- he looked like a hobo. Give him the best you have in stock, if you have to
- throw somebody off the train to accommodate him. Unless you see your way
- clear to heed this suggestion your resignation is not only in order but
- has already been accepted.' Signed, 'Sweeney.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “Do I hit the target?”
- </p>
- <p>
- The conductor nodded. “You win, Mr. Webster,” he admitted.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Occasionally I lose, old-timer. Well?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Who the devil is Sweeney?”
- </p>
- <p>
- John Stuart Webster turned to his cosmopolitan comrades of the national
- game. “Listen to him,” he entreated them. “He has worked
- for the company, lo, these many years, and he doesn't know who
- Sweeney is?” He eyed the conductor severely. “Sweeney,”
- he declared, “is the man who is responsible for the whichness of the
- why-for. Ignorance of the man higher up excuses no sleeping-car conductor,
- and if your job is gone when you reach Salt Lake, old-timer, don't
- blame it on me, but rather on your distressing propensity to ask foolish
- questions. <i>Vamos, amigo</i>, and leave me to my despair. Can't
- you see I'm happy here?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No offense, Mr. Webster, no offense. I can let you have a stateroom——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That's trading talk. I'll take it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The conductor gave him his receipt and led him back to the stateroom in
- the observation-car. At the door Webster handed him a five-dollar bill.
- “For you, son,” he said gently, “just to take the sting
- out of what I'm about to tell you. Now that I possess your receipt
- and know that ten men and a boy cannot take it away from me, I'm
- going to tell you who Sweeney is.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Who is he?” the conductor queried. Already he suspected he
- had been outgeneralled.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sweeney,” said Mr. Webster, “is the chief clerk in one
- of Chicago's most pretentious hotels and a young man who can find
- all the angles of a situation without working it out in logarithms. I
- wired him the details of my predicament; he heard the Macedonian cry and
- kicked in. Neat, is it not?”
- </p>
- <p>
- The conductor grinned. “I hate to take your money,” he
- declared.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Don't. Just at present I'm very flush. Yes, sir, I'm
- as prosperous as a yearling burro up to his ears in alfalfa, and the only
- use I have ever found for money is to make other people happy with it,
- thereby getting some enjoyment out of it myself. Just as soon as I get a
- little chunk together, some smarter man than I takes it all away from me
- again—so the cleaning process might just as well start here. When I'm
- broke I'll make some more.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “How?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “By remembering that all a man needs in this world, in order to
- excel, is about two per cent, more courage than a jack-rabbit; also that
- an ounce of promotion in a world of boobs is worth a ton of perspiration.
- Thank you for falling for my bluff.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And having wotted the which, Mr. Webster retired to his hard-won
- sanctuary, where he removed as much alkali and perspiration as he could,
- carded his long hair and whiskers, manicured his finger nails with a
- jack-knife, changed his shirt, provided five minutes of industry for
- George, with his whiskbroom and brush, and set himself patiently to await
- the first call to dinner.
- </p>
- <p>
- The better to hear the dinner call Webster left his stateroom door open,
- and presently a pink-jowled, well-curried, flashily dressed big man, of
- about Webster's age, passed in the corridor, going toward the head
- of the train. An instant later a woman's voice said very distinctly:
- </p>
- <p>
- “I do not know you, sir; I do not wish to know you, and it is
- loathsome of you to persist in addressing me. If you do not stop your
- annoying attentions, I shall call the conductor.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ah! Beauty in distress,” John Stuart Webster soliloquized.
- “I look so much like an Angora goat I might as well butt in.”
- He stepped to the door of his stateroom. A girl stood in the vestibule,
- confronting the man who had just passed Webster's door. Webster
- bowed.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Madame, or mademoiselle, as the case may be,” he said,
- “unlike this other male biped, my sole purpose in presuming to
- address you is to suggest that there is not the slightest necessity for
- taking this matter up with the conductor. I am here and very much at your
- service.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The girl turned—and John Stuart Webster's heart flopped twice
- in rapid succession, like a trout newly grassed. She was as lovely as a
- royal flush. Her starry glance began at his miner's boots, travelled
- up his old, soiled, whipcord trousers, over his light blue chambray shirt
- and found the man behind the whiskers. She favoured him with a quick,
- curious scrutiny and a grave, sweet smile. “Thank you so much, sir,”
- she answered, and passed down the corridor to the observation-car.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, old-timer,” Webster greeted the fellow who had been
- annoying her, “how about you? What do you think we ought to do about
- this little affair?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “The sensible thing would be to do—nothing.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Nothing?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Nothing.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You might start something you couldn't finish.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That's a dare,” Webster declared brightly, “and
- wasn't it the immortal <i>Huckleberry Finn</i> who remarked that
- anybody that'd take a dare would suck eggs and steal sheep?”
- He caressed his beard meditatively. “They say the good Lord made man
- to His own image and likeness. I take it those were only the
- specifications for the building complete—the painting and interior
- decorating, not to mention the furnishings, being let to a sub-contractor.”
- He was silent a few seconds, appraising his man. “I suppose you
- commenced operations by moving into her section and asking if she would
- like to have the window open and enjoy the fresh air. Of course if she had
- wanted the window open, she would have called the porter. She rebuffed
- you, but being a persistent devil, you followed her into the
- observation-car, and in all probability you ogled her at luncheon and
- ruined her appetite. And just now, when you met her in this vestibule, you
- doubtless jostled her, begged her pardon and without waiting to be
- introduced asked her to have dinner with you this evening.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well?” the fellow echoed belligerently.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It's all bad form. You shouldn't try to make a mash on
- a lady. I don't know who she is, of course, but she's not
- common; she's travelling without a chaperon, I take it, and for the
- sake of the mother that bore me I always respect and protect a good woman
- and whale hell out of those that do not.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He reached inside his stateroom and pressed the bell. The porter arrived
- on the run.
- </p>
- <p>
- “George,” said Mr. Webster, “in a few minutes we're
- due at Smithville. If my memory serves me aright, we stop five minutes for
- water and orders.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yassah.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Remain right here and let me off as soon as the train comes to a
- stop.”
- </p>
- <p>
- When the train slid to a grinding halt and the porter opened the car door,
- Webster pointed.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Out!” he said. “This is no nice place to pull off a
- scrap.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “See here, neighbour, I don't want to have any trouble with
- you——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I know it. All the same, you're going to have it—or
- come with me to that young lady and beg her pardon.”
- </p>
- <p>
- There are some things in this world which the most craven of men will not
- do—and the vanity of that masher forbade acceptance of Webster's
- alternative. He preferred to fight, but—he did not purpose being
- thrashed. He resolved on strategy.
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right. I'll apologize,” he declared, and started
- forward as if to pass Webster in the vestibule, on his way to the
- observation-car, whither the subject of his annoying attentions had gone.
- Two steps brought him within striking distance of his enemy, and before
- Webster could dodge, a sizzling righthanded blow landed on his jaw and set
- him back on his haunches in the vestibule.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was almost a knockout—almost, but not quite. As Webster's
- body struck the floor the big automatic came out of the holster; swinging
- in a weak circle, it covered the other.
- </p>
- <p>
- “That was a daisy,” Webster mumbled. “If you move before
- my head clears, I'll put four bullets into you before you reach the
- corridor.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He waited about a minute; then with the gun he pointed to the car door,
- and the masher stepped out. Webster handed the porter his gun and
- followed; two minutes later he returned, dragging his assailant by the
- collar. Up the steps he jerked the big battered hulk and tossed it in the
- corner of the vestibule, just as the girl came through the car, making for
- the diner up ahead.
- </p>
- <p>
- Again she favoured him with that calm, grave, yet vitally interested gaze,
- nodded appreciatively, made as if to pass on, changed her mind, and said
- very gravely: “You are—a very courtly gentleman, sir.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He bowed. There was nothing else to do, nothing that he could say, under
- the circumstances; to use his chivalry as a wedge to open an acquaintance
- never occurred to him—but his whiskers did occur to him. Hastily he
- backed into his stateroom and closed the door; presently he rose and
- surveyed himself critically in the small mirror over the washstand.
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, Johnny,” he murmured, “we can't go into the
- diner now. We're too blamed disreputable. We were bad enough before
- that big swine hung the shanty on our right eye, but whatever our physical
- and personal feelings, far be it from us to parade our iridescent orb in
- public. Besides, one look at that queen is enough to do us for the
- remainder of our natural life, and a second look, minus a proper
- introduction, would only drive us into a suicide's grave. That's
- a fair sample of our luck, Johnny. It rains duck soup—and we're
- there like a Chinaman—with chopsticks; and on the only day in the
- history of the human race, here I am with a marvellous black eye, a
- dislocated thumb, four skinned knuckles, and a grouch, while otherwise
- looking like a cross between <i>Rip Van Winkle</i> and a hired man.”
- He sighed, rang for the porter and told him to send a waiter for his
- order, since he would fain break his fast in the privacy of his stateroom.
- And when the waiter came for the order, such was Mr. Webster's
- mental perturbation that ham and eggs were furthest from his thoughts. He
- ordered a steak with French fried potatoes.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER II
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">J</span>OHN STUART WEBSTER
- passed a restless night. Sleep came to him in hourly installments, from
- which he would rouse to ask himself whether it was worth while to continue
- to go through the motions of living, or alight at the next station, seek a
- lonely and unfrequented spot and there surrender to outrageous fortune. He
- had <i>lived</i> every moment of his life; fair fortune and ill had been
- his portion so often that he had long since ceased to care which took
- precedence over the other; to quote Mr. Kipling, he had schooled himself
- to “treat those two impostors both the same”—not a very
- difficult task, if one be granted a breathing spell between the arrival of
- each impostor! Hitherto, in Webster's experience, there had always
- been a decent interval between the two—say a day, a week, a month or
- more; whereas in the present instance, two minutes had sufficed to make
- the journey from a heaven of contentment to the dungeons of despair.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was altogether damnable. In a careless moment, Fate had accorded him a
- glimpse of the only woman he had ever met and desired to meet again—for
- Webster was essentially a man's man, and his profession and
- environment had militated against his opportunities for meeting
- extraordinary women; and extraordinary women were the only kind that could
- hope to challenge his serious attention. Had his luck changed there, he
- might have rested content with his lot—but it hadn't. Fate had
- gone farther. She had accorded him a signal opportunity for knightly
- combat in the service of this extraordinary woman; and in the absence of a
- formal introduction, what man could desire a finer opportunity for getting
- acquainted! If only their meeting had but been delayed two weeks, ten
- days, a week! Once free of his ugly cocoon of rags and whiskers, the
- butterfly Webster would not have hesitated one brief instant to inform
- himself of that young lady's name and address, following his summary
- disposal of her tormentor. Trusting to the mingled respect and confusion
- in his manner, and to her own womanly intuition to warn her that no
- rudeness or brazen familiarity was intended, he would have presented
- himself before her and addressed her in these words:
- </p>
- <p>
- “A few minutes ago, Miss, you were gracious enough to accord me the
- rare pleasure of being of slight service to you. May I presume on that
- evidence of your generosity and perfect understanding to risk a seeming
- impertinence by presuming to address you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster pictured her as bowing, favouring him with that grave yet
- interested scrutiny and saying: “Certainly, sir.” Whereupon he
- would say:
- </p>
- <p>
- “It has occurred to me—for, like <i>Bimi</i>, the orangoutang,
- I have perhaps too much ego in my cosmos—that you might be
- charitably moved to admit me to the happy circle of those privileged to
- call you by name. Were there a mutual friend on this train whom I could
- prevail upon to introduce me formally, I should not be reduced to the
- necessity of being unconventional. Under the circumstances, however, I am
- daring enough to presume that this misfortune is not so great that I
- should permit it to interfere with my respectful desires. Therefore—have
- I your permission to present myself, with the hope that in so doing I <i>may</i>
- feel freer to be of additional service to you throughout the remainder of
- our journey?”
- </p>
- <p>
- That would be a pretty, a graceful speech—a little ornate,
- doubtless, but diplomatic in the extreme. Having been accorded permission
- to introduce himself, he would cease thereafter to be flowery. However,
- Webster realized that however graceful might be his speech and bearing,
- should he essay the great adventure in the morning, his appearance would
- render him ridiculous and presumptuous and perhaps shock and humiliate
- her; for in all things there is a limit, and John Stuart Webster's
- right eye constituted a deadline beyond which, as a gentleman, he dared
- not venture; so with a heavy heart he bowed to the inevitable. Brilliant
- and mysterious as a meteorite she had flashed once across his horizon and
- was gone.
- </p>
- <p>
- In the privacy of his stateroom Webster had ham and eggs for breakfast. He
- was lighting his second cigar when the porter knocked and entered with an
- envelope.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Lady in the observation-car asked me to deliver this to you, sah,”
- he announced importantly.
- </p>
- <p>
- It 'was a note, freshly written on the train stationery. Webster
- read:
- </p>
- <p>
- The distressed lady desires to thank the gentleman in stateroom A for his
- chivalry of yesterday. She quite realizes that the gentleman's offer
- to relieve her of the annoyance to which she was being subjected was such
- a direct expression of his nature and code, that to have declined his aid
- would have been discourteous, despite her distress at the possible
- outcome. She is delighted to know that her confidence in the ability of
- her champion has been fully justified by a swift and sweeping victory, but
- profoundly sorry that in her service the gentleman in stateroom A was so
- unfortunate as to acquire a red eye with blue trimmings.
- </p>
- <p>
- John Stuart Webster swore his mightiest oath, “By the twelve
- apostles, Simon Peter, Andrew, James, John, Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew,
- Thomas, James, Jude, and Simon, not omitting Judas Iscariot, the scaly
- scoundrel who betrayed his Lord and Master!” He searched through an
- old wallet until he discovered a fairly clean professional card, across
- the bottom of which he wrote, “Thank you. J. S.W.” and sent it
- to the no-longer-distressed lady.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The most signal adventure of my life is now over,” he
- soliloquized and turned to his cigar. “For the sake of my
- self-respect, I had to let her know I'm not a hobo! And now to the
- task of framing up a scheme for future acquaintance. I must learn her name
- and destination; so as a preliminary I'll interview the train
- conductor.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He did, and under the ameliorating influence of a five-dollar bill the
- conductor bent a respectful ear to the Websterian message.
- </p>
- <p>
- “In Car Seven,” he began, “there is a young lady. I do
- not know what section she occupies; neither do I know her name and
- destination. I only know what she looks like.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The conductor nodded. “And you want to ascertain her name and
- destination?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I do.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Easiest thing in life. There is only one young lady in Car Seven. I
- suppose you mean that queen with the olive complexion, the green suit, and——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hold! Enough.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right. I have the unused portion of her transportation to
- return to her before we hit Salt Lake; her name is on the ticket, and the
- ticket indicates her destination. I'll make a mental note of both as
- soon as I've identified her ticket.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “After you've made the said mental note,” Webster
- pleaded, “be sure you write it down, so you'll not forget.”
- </p>
- <p>
- A few hours later the conductor came to Webster's stateroom and
- handed him a card upon which was written:
- </p>
- <p>
- Dolores Ruey. From Los Angeles, via San Pedro, Los Angeles & Salt
- Lake, to Salt Lake City, Denver & Rio Grande to Denver, Burlington to
- St. Louis, Illinois Central to New Orleans. Stop-over at Denver.
- </p>
- <p>
- John Stuart Webster studied the name after the conductor withdrew. “That's
- a Spanish name,” he soliloquized, “but for all that, she's
- not a parakeet. There's something Gaelic about her features,
- particularly her eyes. They're brown, with golden flecks in them,
- and if she had a drop of dark blood in her, they'd be smoky and
- languid. Also if she were a Latin she would have referred to my black eye—whereas
- she referred to, a red eye with blue trimmings! Same thing but different!
- All things considered, I guess I'll take a chance and investigate.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER III
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>EBSTER'S
- dreams of bliss had, with very slight variation, come true as per
- schedule.
- </p>
- <p>
- In Salt Lake City he abandoned the beefsteak on his damaged eye for two
- businesslike leeches, which quickly reduced the nocturne effect around his
- orb, enabling him, the third day, to saunter forth among his fellowmen. By
- the end of the week he was a being reincarnated, and so he packed a huge
- new wardrobe-trunk with his latest purchases and journeyed on to Denver.
- Coincident with his arrival there, we again take up the thread of our
- story.
- </p>
- <p>
- One hour after his trunk arrived the gentleman from Death Valley might
- have been observed standing before a cheval glass looking long and
- earnestly at the reflection of his middle-aged person, the while he marked
- the fit of his new raiment.
- </p>
- <p>
- Let us describe these habiliments, alleging as an excuse for dwelling with
- emphasis upon the subject the fact that John Stuart Webster was all
- dressed up for the first time in three long, labour-ridden years, and was
- tremendously glad of it. Hark to this inventory. There were the silken
- hose and underwear next his well-scrubbed skin; then there was the white
- pleated linen shirt—a shirt so expensive and exquisite that Mr.
- Webster longed to go somewhere and shoot a game of billiards, in order
- that thus he might have an excuse to remove his coat and exhibit that
- shirt to the gaze of the multitude. His collar irked him slightly, but he
- had been assured by the clerk who sold it to him “that it was
- strictly in vogue.” His gray silk Ascot tie was held in a graceful
- puff by a scarfpin with a head of perfect crystal prettily shot with
- virgin gold; his black afternoon coat enveloped his wide shoulders and
- flanked his powerful neck with the perfection of the epidermis on a goose
- in the pink of condition; his gray striped trousers broke exactly right
- over his new “patent leather” shoes. The <i>tout ensemble</i>,
- as the gentleman himself might have expressed it had he possessed a
- working knowledge of French (which he did not), was perfect.
- </p>
- <p>
- He “shot” his cuffs and strutted backward and forward,
- striving to observe his spinal column over his right shoulder, for he was
- in a transport of delight as truly juvenile as that on the
- never-to-be-forgotten day when he had attained to the dignity of his first
- pair of long trousers. He observed to himself that it was truly
- remarkable, the metamorphosis nine tailors and a talkative barber can make
- in an old sour-dough.
- </p>
- <p>
- Presently, convinced that he was the glass of fashion and the mould of
- form, Mr. Webster took up a smart lancewood stick and a pair of new gray
- suede gloves and descended to the lobby of Denver's most exclusive
- hotel. He paused at the cigar stand long enough to fill his case with
- three-for-a-half perfectos and permit the young woman in charge to feast
- her world-weary eyes on his radiant person (which she did, classifying and
- tabulating him instantly as a millionaire mining man from Nevada). After
- this he lighted a cigar and stepped forth into Seventeenth Street, along
- which he strolled until he came to a certain building into the elevator of
- which he entered and was whisked to the twelfth floor, where he alighted
- and found himself before a wide portal which bore in gold letters the
- words: Engineers' Club.
- </p>
- <p>
- The Engineers' Club was the closest approach to a home that John
- Stuart Webster had known for twenty years, and so he paused just within
- the entrance to perform the time-honoured ceremonial of home-coming. Over
- the arched doorway leading to the lounge hung a large bronze gong such as
- is used in mines, and from the lever of the gong-clapper depended a cord
- which Webster seized and jerked thrice—thus striking the signal
- known to all of the mining fraternity—the signal to hoist! Only
- those members who had been sojourning in distant parts six months or more
- were privileged thus to disturb the peace and dignity of the Engineers'
- Club, the same privilege, by the way, carrying with it the obligation of
- paying for the materials shortly to be hoisted!
- </p>
- <p>
- Having announced the return of a prodigal, our hero stepped to the door of
- the lounge and shouted:
- </p>
- <p>
- “John Stuart Webster, E. M.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The room was empty. Not a single member was present to greet the wanderer
- and accept of his invitation!
- </p>
- <p>
- “Home was never like this when I was a boy,” he complained to
- the servant at the telephone exchange. “Times must be pretty good in
- the mining game in Colorado when everybody has a job that keeps him out of
- Denver.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The servant rose and essayed a raid on his hat and stick, but Mr. Webster,
- who was impatient at thus finding himself amidst old scenes, fended him
- away and said “Shoo fly!” Then he crossed the empty lounge and
- ascended the stairs leading to the card room, at the entrance of which he
- paused, leaning on his stick—in unconscious imitation of a Sicilian
- gentleman posing for his photograph after his first payday in America—swept
- that room with a wistful eye and sighed because nothing had changed in
- three long years.
- </p>
- <p>
- Save for the slight job of kalsomining which Father Time had done on the
- edges of the close-cropped Websterian moustache, the returned prodigal
- might have stepped out of the Club but yesterday. He would not have taken
- the short end of a modest bet that even a fresh log had been placed on the
- fire or that the domino-players over against the wall had won or lost a
- drink or two and then resumed playing—although perchance there <i>were</i>
- a few more gray hairs in the thickly thatched head of old Neddy Jerome,
- sitting in his favourite seat by the window and turning the cards in his
- eternal game of solitaire, in blissful ignorance that John Stuart Webster
- stood within the portals of home and awaited the fatted calf.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'll hypnotize the old pelican into looking up,”
- Webster soliloquized, and forthwith bent a beetling gaze upon the player.
- For as many as five seconds he strove to demonstrate the superiority of
- mind over solitaire; then, despairing of success, he struck the upholstery
- of an adjacent chair a terrific blow with his stick—the effect of
- which was to cause everybody in the room to start and to conceal Mr.
- Webster momentarily in a cloud of dust, the while in a bellowing baritone
- he sang:
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- His father was a hard-rock miner;
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- He comes from my home town——
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- “Jack Webster! The devil's own kin!” shouted Neddy
- Jerome. He swept the cards into a heap and waddled across the room to meet
- this latest assailant of the peace and dignity of the Engineers'
- Club. “You old, worthless, ornery, no-good son of a lizard! I've
- never been so glad to see a man that didn't owe me money.” He
- seized Webster's hand in both of his and wrung it affectionately.
- “Jack,” he continued, “I've been combing the whole
- civilized world for you, for a month, at least. Where the devil <i>have</i>
- you been?”
- </p>
- <p>
- John Stuart Webster beamed happily upon his friend. “Well, Neddy,
- you old stocking-knitter,” he replied quizzically, “since that
- is the case, I'm not surprised at your failure to find me. You've
- known me long enough to have remembered to confine your search to the <i>uncivilized</i>
- reaches.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, you're here, at any rate, and I'm happy. Now you'll
- settle down.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hardly, Neddy. I'm young yet, you know—only forty.
- Still a real live man and not quite ready to degenerate into a
- card-playing, eat-drink-and-be-merry, die-of-inanition, sink-to-oblivion,
- and go-to-hell fireplace spirit!” And he prodded Jerome in the short
- ribs with a tentative thumb that caused the old man to wince. He turned to
- greet the halfdozen card-players who had looked up at his noisy entrance—deciding
- that since they were strangers to him they were mere half-baked young
- whelps but lately graduated from some school of mines—and permitted
- his friend to drag him downstairs to the deserted lounge, where Jerome
- paused in the middle of the room and renewed his query:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Johnny, where have you been?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Lead me to a seat, O thou of little manners,” Webster
- retorted. “Here, boy! Remove my property and guard it well. I will
- stay and disport myself.” And he suffered himself to be dispossessed
- of his hat, gloves, and stick. “It used to be the custom here,”
- he resumed, addressing Jerome, “that when one of the Old Guard
- returned, he was obliged to ask his friends to indicate their poison——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Where have you been, I ask?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Out in Death Valley, California, trying to pry loose a fortune.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Did you pry it?”
- </p>
- <p>
- John Stuart Webster arched his eyebrows in mock reproach. “And you
- can see my new suit, Neddy, my sixteen-dollar, made-to-order shoes, and my
- horny hoofs encased in silken hose—and ask that question? Freshly
- shaved and ironed and almost afraid to sit down and get wrinkles in my
- trousers! Smell that!” He blew a cloud of cigar smoke into Jerome's
- smiling face. The latter sniffed. “It smells expensive,” he
- replied.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, and you can bet it tastes expensive, too,” Webster
- answered, handing his cigar-case to his friend—who helped himself
- and said:
- </p>
- <p>
- “So you've made your pile, eh, Jack?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Do you suppose I would have come back to Colorado without money?
- Haven't you lived long enough, Neddy, to realize that when a man has
- money he never knows where to go to spend it? It's so blamed hard to
- make up one's mind, with all the world to choose from, and so the
- only place I could think of was the old Engineers' Club in Denver.
- There, at least, I knew I would find one man of my acquaintance—an
- old granny named Neddy Jerome. Yes, Neddy, I knew I would find you playing
- solitaire, with your old heart beating about seven times an hour, your
- feet good and warm, and a touch of misery around your liver from lack of
- exercise.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Jerome bit the end of his cigar and spat derisively. “How much have
- you made?” he demanded bluntly, “It's none of your
- business, but I'll tell you because I love you, Neddy. I've
- made one hundred thousand dollars.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Chicken-feed,” Jerome retorted.
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster glanced around. “I thought at first nothing had changed in
- the old place,” he said, “but I see I was mistaken.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, what's wrong, Jack?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, when I was here before, they used to ask a man if he had a
- mouth—and now they ask him how much money he's made, where he
- made it, and—why, hello, Mose, you black old scoundrel, how do you
- do? Glad to see you. Take the order, Mose: some milk and vichy for Mr.
- Jerome, and a——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yassuh, yassuh,” Mose interrupted, “an' a Stinger
- for you, suh.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Gone but not forgotten,” breathed Mr. Webster, and walled his
- eyes piously after the fashion of one about to say grace before a meal.
- “How sweet a thing is life with a club servant like old black Mose,
- who does things without an order. I feel at home—at last.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Johnny,” Jerome began again, “I've been combing
- the mineral belt of North and South America for you for a month.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why this sudden belated interest in me?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have a fine job for you, John——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “King's X,” Webster interrupted, and showed both hands
- with the fingers crossed. “No plotting against my peace and comfort,
- Neddy. Haven't I told you I'm all dressed up for the first
- time in three years, that I have money in my pocket and more in bank? Man,
- I'm going to tread the primrose path for a year before I get back
- into the harness again.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Jerome waved a deprecatory hand, figuratively brushing aside such feeble
- and inconsequential argument. “Are you foot-loose?” he
- demanded.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm not. I'm bound in golden chains——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Married, eh? Great Scott, I might have guessed it. So you're
- on your honeymoon, eh?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No such luck, you vichy-drinking iconoclast. If you had ever gotten
- far enough from this club during the past fifteen years to get a breath of
- real fresh air, you'd understand why I want to enjoy civilization
- for a week or two before I go back to a mine superintendent's cabin
- on some bleak hill. No, sir-ee. Old Jeremiah Q. Work and I have had a
- falling out. I'm going on to New York and attend the opera, see all
- the good plays, mush around through the Metropolitan Museum of Art, drink
- tea, and learn to tango.” Webster sighed gustily. “Lord,
- Neddy, how I long for the fleshpots. I've slept under the desert
- stars so long I want electric signs for a change. Bacon and beans and sour
- dough are wonderful when one hasn't something better, but I crave an
- omelette soufflé drenched in cognac, and the cognac afire. Yes, and I want
- an obsequious waiter to hurry in with it and then take a dollar tip from
- me afterward for all the world like he was doing me a favour by accepting
- it. Dad burn your picture, Neddy, I want some class! I've been
- listening to a dago shift-boss playing the accordeon for three years—and
- he could only play three tunes. Now I want Sousa's band. I want to
- hive up in a swell hotel and leave a call for six o'clock—and
- then when they call me, I want to curse them, roll over, and go to sleep
- again. I've been bathing in tepid, dirty water in a redwood
- sluice-box, and now I desire a steam room and a needle shower and an
- osteopath. I've been bossing Greasers and Italians and was forced to
- learn their language to get results, and now I want to speak my mother
- tongue to my old friends. The last funny story I heard had whiskers on it
- when Rameses was playing hop-scotch in Memphis, Egypt, and by thunder I'm
- going to have a new deal all around.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Very well, Jack. Don't excite yourself. I'll give you
- exactly thirty days to sicken of it all—and then I shall come and
- claim my property.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Neddy, I'll not work for you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, yes, you will, John.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, sir, I'm mad. I won't play.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You're it. I just tagged you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I require a rest—but unfold your proposition, Neddy. I was
- born a poor, weak vessel consumed with a curiosity that was ever my
- undoing. I can only protest that this is no way to treat a friend.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Nonsense! My own brother wants this job, and I have refused to give
- it to him. Business is business—and I've saved it for you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Jerome leaned forward and laid his finger confidentially on Webster's
- knee; whereat the lighthearted wanderer carefully lifted the finger,
- brushed an imaginary speck of dirt from it, and set it down again. “Be
- serious, you ingrate,” Jerome protested. ''Listen! I've
- been working for two years on a consolidation up near Telluride, and I've
- just put it across. Jack, it's the biggest thing in the country——
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster closed his eyes and crooned:
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- “I'm dying for some one to love me;
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- I'm tired of living alone;
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- I want to be somebody's darling,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- To be queen upon somebody's throne.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, you'll be king on the throne of the Colorado
- Consolidated Mines Company, Limited. English capital, Jack. Pay 'em
- 6 per cent, and they'll call you blessed. There's twenty-five
- thousand a year in it, with a house and a good cook and an automobile and
- a chauffeur, and you can come to town whenever you please, provided you
- don't neglect the company's interests—and I know you're
- not that kind of an engineer.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Do I have to put some money into it, Neddy?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not necessarily, although I should advise it. I can let you in on
- the ground floor for that hundred thousand of yours, guarantee you a
- handsome profit and in all probability a big clean-up.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I feel myself slipping, Neddy. Nevertheless, the tail goes with the
- hide. I'm not in the habit of asking my friends to guarantee my
- investments, and if you say it's all right, I'll spread what I
- have left of the hundred thousand when I report for duty. What's the
- news around this mortuary, anyhow? Who's dead and who's alive?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It's been a tremendous job getting this consolidation over,
- Jack. When——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “In pity's name! Spare me. I've heard all I want to hear
- about your confounded consolidation. News! News! Give me news! I had to
- beg for a drink——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I might remind you that your manners have not improved with age,
- Jack Webster. You haven't thanked me for that job.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No—nor shall I. Mose, you black sinner, how dare you appear
- before me again without that stinger?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mose, the aged coloured porter of the Engineers' Club, flashed a row
- of ivories and respectfully re-turned the democratic greeting.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Letter for you, suh. The secretary told me to give it to you,
- Mistah Webster.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thank you, Mose. Speak up, Neddy, and tell me something. Ever hear
- anything of Billy Geary?” He was tearing the edge of the envelope
- the while he gazed at Jerome, who was rubbing his fat hands together after
- the fashion of elderly men who are well pleased with themselves.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You have a chance to become one of the greatest and richest mining
- engineers in the world, Jack,” he answered, “now that you've
- cut loose from that young crook Geary. I don't know what's
- become of him, and neither does anybody else. For that matter, nobody
- cares.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I do—and you can take the brief end of that bet for your last
- white chip. Don't let me hear you or anybody else say anything
- against Billy Geary. That boy goes for my money, every turn in the box.
- Don't make any mistakes about that, old-timer.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster's face suddenly was serious; the bantering intonation in his
- voice was gone, and a new, slightly strident note had crept into it. But
- Jerome, engrossed in his own affairs, failed to observe the menace in that
- swift transition of mood in his companion. He waved his hand soothingly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right, old Johnny Pepper-box, have it your own way.
- Nevertheless, I'm a little mystified. The last I knew of you two,
- you had testified against him in the high-grader trials at Cripple Creek,
- and he had pulled out under a cloud, even after his acquittal.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Give a dog a bad name, and it will stick to him,” Webster
- retorted. “Of course I testified against him. As engineer for the
- Mine Owners' Association, I had to. The high-grade ore was found in
- his assay office, and the circumstantial evidence was complete, and I
- admit Billy was acquitted merely because I and others could not swear
- positively that the ore came from any certain mine. It was the same old
- story, Neddy. It's become history in all mining camps. You can be
- morally certain that high-grade ore has been stolen from your mine, but
- unless you catch the ore thief in the act, how can you prove it?
- High-grade ore is blind goods and is not confined to any certain man-owned
- spot on this wicked earth—so there you are! I suppose you read the
- newspaper reports and believed them, just as everybody else does.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, forget it, Jack. It's all over long ago, and forgotten.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It wasn't all over so long ago as you seem to think. I
- suppose you knew the Holman gang was afterward sent to the penitentiary
- for those same high-grade operations?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But I'll bet my new plug hat you never knew I was the <i>Hawkshaw</i>
- that sent them there! You bet I was! Billy Geary's acquittal didn't
- end my interest in the case—not by a jugful! I fought the case
- against the friends of the Holman crew <i>among the mine owners themselves</i>;
- and it cost me my good job, my prestige as a mining engineer, and thirty
- thousand dollars of money that I'd slaved to get together. They
- squeezed me, Neddy—squeezed me hard like a lemon, and threw me away,
- but I got them! I should tell a man! Of course you never knew this, Neddy,
- and for that matter, neither does Geary. I wish he did. We were good
- friends once. I certainly was mighty fond of that boy.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He drew the letter from the envelope and slowly opened it, his mind not
- upon the letter, but upon Billy Geary.
- </p>
- <p>
- “And you never heard what became of Geary?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not a word. I was too busy wondering what was to become of me. I
- couldn't get a job anywhere in Colorado, and I moved to Nevada. Made
- a million in Goldfield, dropped it in the panic of 1907, and had to start
- again——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What have you been doing lately?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Borax. Staked a group of claims down in Death Valley. Bully ground,
- Neddy, and I was busted when I located them. Had to borrow money to pay
- the filing fees and incorporation, and did my own assessment work. Look!”
- Webster held up his hands, still somewhat grimy and calloused.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How did you get by with your bluff?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “In the only way anybody ever got by on no pair. I was a brave dog
- and went around with an erect tail, talking in millions and buying my
- tobacco on jawbone. The Borax Trust knew I was busted, but they never
- could quite get over the fear that I'd dig up some blacking and give
- them a run—so they bought me out. Two weeks ago I got a belated
- telegram, telling me there was a hundred thousand dollars in escrow
- against deeds and certificate of title in a Salt Lake City bank—so
- here I am.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Somebody told me Geary had gone to Rhodesia,” Jerome
- continued musingly, “or maybe it was Capetown. I know he was seen
- somewhere in South Africa.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He left the Creek immediately after the conclusion of his trial.
- Poor boy! That dirty business destroyed the lad and made a tramp of him, I
- guess. I tell you, Neddy, no two men ever lived who came nearer to loving
- each other than Billy Geary and his old Jack-pardner. We bucked the marts
- of men and went to sleep together hungry many a time during our five-year
- partnership. Why, Bill was like my own boy! Do you know, Neddy, now that I've
- rounded the forty-pole, I get thinking sometimes, and wish I could have
- married when I was about twenty years old; I might have had a son to knock
- around with now, while I'm still in the shank of my own youth. And
- if I had been blessed with a son, I would have wanted him to be just like
- Billy. You know, Bill tied onto me when he was about eighteen. He's
- rising twenty-six now. He came to me at the Bonnie Claire mine fresh from
- high school, and I staked him to a drill; but he didn't stick there
- long. I saw he was too good a boy to be a mucker all his days.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster smiled reminiscently and went on: “I'll never forget
- the day Billy challenged a big Cornish shift-boss that called him out of
- his name. The Cousin Jack could fight, too, but Billy walked around him
- like a cooper around a barrel, and when he finished, I fired the Cousin
- Jack and gave Billy his job!”
- </p>
- <p>
- He chuckled softly at the remembrance. “Too bad!” he
- continued. “That boy had brains and grit and honour, and he shouldn't
- have held that trial against me. But Billy was young, I suppose, and he
- just couldn't understand my position. It takes the hard old years to
- impart common sense to a man, and I suppose Billy couldn't
- understand why I had to be true to my salt. He should have known I hadn't
- a leg to stand on when I took the stand for the prosecution—not a
- scintilla of evidence to present, except that the high-grade had been
- found in his assay office. Jerome, I curse the day I took that boy out
- from underground and put him in the Bonnie Claire assay office to learn
- the business. How could I know that the Holman gang had cached the stuff
- in his shack?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, it's too bad,” Jerome answered dully. He was
- quite willing that the subject of conversation should be changed. “I'm
- glad to get the right dope on the boy, anyhow. We might be able to hand
- him a good job to make up for the injustice. Have another drink?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not until I read this letter. Now, who the dickens knew I was
- headed for Denver and the Engineers' Club? I didn't tell a
- soul, and I only arrived this morning.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He turned to the last page to ascertain the identity of his correspondent,
- and his facial expression ran the gamut from surprise to a joy that was
- good to see.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was a long letter, and John Stuart Webster read it deliberately. When
- he had read it once, he reread it; after which he sat in silent
- contemplation of the design of the carpet for fully a minute before
- reaching for the bell. A servant responded immediately.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Bring me the time-tables of all roads leading to New Orleans,”
- he ordered, “—also a cable blank.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster had reread the letter before the servant returned with the
- time-tables. He glanced through them. “Henry,” he announced,
- “your name is Henry, isn't it?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, sir—George, sir.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, August, you go out to the desk, like a good fellow, and ask
- the secretary to arrange for a compartment for me to New Orleans on the
- Gulf States Limited, leaving at ten o'clock to-morrow night.”
- He handed the servant his card. “Now wait a minute until I write
- something.” He seized the cable blank, helped himself, uninvited, to
- Neddy Jerome's fountain pen, and wrote:
- </p>
- <p>
- William H. Geary,
- </p>
- <p>
- Calle de Concordia No. 19,
- </p>
- <p>
- Buenaventura,
- </p>
- <p>
- Sobrante, C. A.
- </p>
- <p>
- Salute, you young jackass! Just received your letter. Cabling thousand for
- emergency roll first thing to-morrow. Will order machinery. Leaving for
- New Orleans to-morrow night, to arrive Buenaventura first steamer. Your
- letter caught me with a hundred thousand. We cut it two ways and take our
- chances. Keep a light in the window for your old Jack Pardner.
- </p>
- <p>
- “That's a windy cablegram,” Neddy Jerome remarked as the
- servant bore it away. “Why all this garrulity? A cablegram anywhere
- generally costs at least a dollar a word.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “'That's my delight of a shiny night, in the season of
- the year,'” quoted John Stuart Webster; “and why the
- devil economize when the boy needs cheering up?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What boy?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Billy Geary.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Broke?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I should say so. Rattles when he walks.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Where is he?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Central America.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Neddy Jerome was happy. He was in an expansive mood, for he had, with the
- assistance of a kindly fate, rounded up the one engineer in all the world
- whom he needed to take charge of the Colorado Consolidated. So he said:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, Jack, just to celebrate the discovery of your old pal, I'll
- tell you what I'll do. I'll O. K. your voucher for the expense
- of bringing young Geary back to the U. S. A., and when we get him here, it
- will be up to you to find a snug berth for him with Colorado Consolidated.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Neddy,” said John Stuart Webster, “by my hali-dom, I
- love thee. You're a thoughtful, kindly old stick-in-the-mud, but——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No <i>ifs</i> or <i>but's</i>. I'm your boss,”
- Jerome interrupted, and waddled away to telephone the head waiter at his
- favourite restaurant to reserve a table for two.
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Webster sighed. He disliked exceedingly to disappoint old Neddy, but——
- He shrank from seeming to think over-well of himself by declining a
- twenty-five-thousand-dollar-a-year job with the biggest mining company in
- Colorado, but——
- </p>
- <p>
- “Rotten luck,” he soliloquized. “It runs that way for a
- while, and then it changes, and gets worse!”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER IV
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>HEN Jerome
- returned to his seat, the serious look in Webster's hitherto
- laughing eyes challenged his immediate attention. “Now what's
- gone and broken loose?” he demanded.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Neddy,” said John Stuart Webster gently, “do you
- remember my crossing my fingers and saying, 'King's X'
- when you came at me with that proposition of yours?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes. But I noticed you uncrossed them mighty quick when I told you
- the details of the job. You'll never be offered another like it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I know, Neddy, I know. It just breaks my heart to have to decline
- it, but the fact of the matter is, I think you'd better give that
- job to your brother after all. At any rate, I'm not going to take
- it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why?” the amazed Jerome demanded. “Johnny, you're
- crazy in the head. Of course you'll take it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- For answer Webster handed his friend the letter he had just received.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Read that, old horse, and see if you can't work up a
- circulation,” he suggested.
- </p>
- <p>
- Jerome adjusted his spectacles and read:
- </p>
- <p>
- Calle de Concordia 19, Buenaventura,
- </p>
- <p>
- Sobrante, C. A.
- </p>
- <p>
- Dear John:
- </p>
- <p>
- I would address you as “dear friend John,” did I but possess
- sufficient courage. In my heart of hearts you are still that, but after
- three years of silence, due to my stupidity and hardness of heart, it is,
- perhaps, better to make haste slowly.
- </p>
- <p>
- To begin, I should like to be forgiven, on the broad general grounds that
- I am most almighty sorry for what I went and done! Am I forgiven? I seem
- to see your friendly old face and hear you answer “Aye,” and
- with this load off my chest at last I believe I feel better already.
- </p>
- <p>
- I did not know until very recently what had become of you, and that that
- wretched Cripple Creek business had been cleared up at last. I met a
- steam-shovel man a month or two ago on the Canal. He used to be a
- machine-man in the Portland mine, and he told me the whole story.
- </p>
- <p>
- Jack, you poor, deluded old piece of white meat, do you think for a moment
- that I held against you your testimony for the operators in Cripple Creek?
- You will never know how badly it broke me up when that Canal digger sprung
- his story of how you went the limit for my measly reputation after I had
- quit the company in disgrace. Still, it was not that which hurt me
- particularly. I thought you believed the charges and that you testified in
- a firm belief that I was the guilty man, as all of the circumstantial
- evidence seemed to indicate. I thought this for three long, meagre years,
- old friend, and I'm sorry. After that, I suppose there isn't
- any need for me to say more, except that you are an old fool for not
- saying you were going to spend your money and your time and reputation
- trying to put my halo back on straight! I doubt if I was worth it, and you
- knew that; but let it pass, for we have other fish to fry.
- </p>
- <p>
- The nubbin of the matter is this: There is only one good gold mine left in
- this weary world—and I have it. It's the sweetest wildcat
- lever struck, and we stand the finest show in the world of starving to
- death if we tackle it without sufficient capital to go through. (You will
- notice that I am already—and unconsciously—employing the
- plural pronoun. How rapidly the old habits return with the old friendships
- rehabilitated!) It will take at least thirty thousand dollars, and we
- ought to have double that to play safe. I do not know whether you have, or
- can raise, sixty cents, but at any rate I am going to put the buck up to
- you and you can take a look.
- </p>
- <p>
- Here are the specifications. Read them carefully and then see if there is
- anybody in the U. S. A. whom you can interest to the tune mentioned above.
- We could probably get by with thirty thousand, but I would not jeopardize
- anybody's money by tackling it with less.
- </p>
- <p>
- Jack, I have a mining concession. It is low-grade—a free-milling
- gold vein—twelve feet of ore between good solid walls on a contact
- between Andesite and Silurian limestone. The ore is oxidized, and we can
- save ninety per cent, of the values on amalgamating plates without
- concentrating or cyaniding machinery. I have had my own portable assay
- outfit on the ground for a month, and you can take my opinion for what it
- is worth when I assure you that this concession is a winner, providing the
- money is forthcoming with which to handle it.
- </p>
- <p>
- This is a pretty fair country, Jack—if you survive long enough to
- get used to it. At first you think it's Paradise; then you grow to
- hate it and know it for hell with the lid off; and finally all your early
- love for it returns and you become what I am now—a tropical tramp!
- There is only one social stratum lower than mine, and that's the
- tropical beachcomber. I am not that—yet; and will not be if my
- landlady will continue to listen to my blandishments. She is a sweet soul,
- with a divine disposition, and I am duly grateful.
- </p>
- <p>
- I would tell you all about the geography, topography, flora and fauna of
- Sobrante, but you can ascertain that in detail by consulting any standard
- encyclopedia. Governmentally the country is similar to its sister
- republics. The poor we have always with us; also a first-class,
- colorado-maduro despot in the political saddle, and it's a cold day
- indeed when two patriots, two viva's and a couple of old Long Tom
- Springfield rifles cannot upset the Sobrante apple cart. We have the usual
- Governmental extravagance in the matter of statues to countless departed
- “liberators” in all the public squares, and money is no
- object. It is depreciated shin-plasters, and I had to use a discarded
- sugar-barrel to hold mine when I arrived and changed four hundred pesos
- oro into the national currency. If a waiter brings you a jolt of hooch,
- you're stingy if you tip him less than a Sobrante dollar.
- </p>
- <p>
- We have a Malicon along the bay shore and back again, with a municipal
- bandstand in the middle thereof, upon which the fine city band of
- Buenaventura plays nightly those languid Spanish melodies that must have
- descended to us from the Inquisition. If you can spare the cash, send me a
- bale of the latest New York rags and a banjo, and I'll start
- something. I have nothing else to do until I hear from you, save shake
- dice at The Frenchman's with the Présidente, who has nothing else to
- do except lap up highballs and wait for the next drawing of the lottery. I
- asked him for a job to tide me over temporarily, and he offered me a
- portfolia! I could have been Minister of Finance!
- </p>
- <p>
- I declined, from a constitutional inability, inherent in the Irish, to
- assimilate a joke from a member of an inferior race.
- </p>
- <p>
- We haven't had a revolution for nearly six months, but we have
- hopes.
- </p>
- <p>
- There are some white men here, neither better nor worse. We tolerate each
- other.
- </p>
- <p>
- I am addressing you at the Engineers' Club, in the hope that my
- letter may reach you there, or perhaps the secretary will know your
- address and forward it to you. If you are foot-loose and still entertain a
- lingering regard for your old pal, get busy on this mining concession P.
- D. Q. Time is the essence of the contract, because I am holding on to the
- thin edge of nothing, and if we have a change of government I may lose
- even that. I need you, John Stuart Webster, worse than I need salvation. I
- enclose you a list of equipment required.
- </p>
- <p>
- If you receive this letter and can do anything for me, please cable. If
- you cannot, please cable anyway. It is needless for me to state that the
- terms of division are as you make them, although I think fifty-fifty would
- place us both on Easy Street for the rest of our days. Do let me hear from
- you, Jack, if only to tell me the old <i>entente cordiale</i> still
- exists. I know now that I was considerable of a heedless pup a few years
- ago and overlooked my hand quite regularly, but now that I have a good
- thing I do not know of anybody with whom I care to share it except your
- own genial self. Please let me hear from you.
- </p>
- <p>
- Affectionately,
- </p>
- <p>
- Billy.
- </p>
- <p>
- Jerome finished reading this remarkable communication; then with infinite
- amusement he regarded John Stuart Webster over the tops of his glasses as
- one who examines a new and interesting species of bug.
- </p>
- <p>
- “So Billy loves that dear Sobrante, eh?” he said with abysmal
- sarcasm. “Jack Webster, listen to a sane man and be guided
- accordingly. I was in this same little Buenaventura once. I was there for
- three days, and I wouldn't have been there three minutes if I could
- have caught a steamer out sooner. Of all the miserable, squalid,
- worthless, ornery, stinking holes on the face of God's green
- footstool, Sobrante is the worst—if one may judge it by its capital
- city. Jack, there is an old bromide that describes aptly the republic of
- Sobrante, and it's so trite I hesitate to repeat it—but I
- will, for your benefit. Sobrante is a country where the flowers are
- without fragrance, the men without honour, and the women without virtue.
- It is hot and unhealthy, and the mosquitoes wear breechclouts; and when
- they bite you, you die. You get mail three times a month, and there isn't
- a white man in the whole Roman-candle republic that a gentleman would
- associate with.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You forget Billy Geary,” Webster reminded him gently.
- </p>
- <p>
- “He's a boy. What does his judgment amount to? Are you going
- to chase off to this God-forsaken fever-hole at the behest of a lad
- scarcely out of his swaddling clothes? Jack Webster, surely you aren't
- going to throw yourself away—give up the sure thing I offer you—to
- join Billy Geary in Sobrante and finance a wildcat prospect without a
- certificate of title attached. Why, Jack, my dear boy, don't you
- know that if you develop your mine to-morrow and get it paying well, the
- first 'liberator' may take it away from you or tax you for the
- entire output?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “We'll have government protection, Neddy. This will be
- American capital, and if they get fresh, our Uncle Sam can send a warship,
- can't he?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He can—but he won't. Are you and Billy Geary of
- sufficient importance at home or abroad to warrant the vast consumption of
- coal necessary to send a battleship to protect your dubious prospect-hole?
- Be reasonable. What did you wire that confounded boy?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That I was coming.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Cable him you've changed, your mind. We'll send him
- some money to come home, and you can give him a good job under you. I'll
- O. K. the voucher and charge it to your personal expense account.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That's nice of you, old sport, and I thank you kindly. I'll
- talk to Billy when I arrive in Buenaventura, and if the prospect doesn't
- look good to me, I'll argue him out of it and we'll come home.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But I want you now. I don't want you to go away.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You promised me thirty days in which to have a good time——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “So I did. But is this having a good time? How about that omelette
- soufflé all blazing with blue fire, and that shower-bath and the opera and
- mushing through the art centres, and Sousa's band——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “They have a band down in Buenaventura. Billy says so.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It plays 'La Paloma' and 'Sobre las Olas'
- and 'La Golondrina' and all the rest of them. Jack, you'll
- go crazy listening to it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, I don't want any omelette soufflé, and I had a bath
- before I left the hotel. I was just hearing myself talk, Neddy,” the
- culprit protested weakly. “Let me go. I might come back. But I must
- go. I want to see Billy.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You just said a minute ago you'd turned the forty-year post,”
- Jerome warned him. “And you're now going to lose a year or two
- more in which you might better be engaged laying up a foundation of
- independence for your old age. You will get out of Sobrante with the price
- of a second-class ticket on a vile fruit boat, and you'll be back
- here panhandling around for a job at a quarter of what I am offering you.
- For Heaven's sake, man, don't be a fool.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, but I will be a fool,” John Stuart Webster answered; and
- possibly, by this time, the reader has begun to understand the potency of
- his middle name—the Scotch are notoriously pig-headed, and Mr.
- Webster had just enough oatmeal in his blood to have come by that
- centre-fire name honestly. “And you, you poor old horse, you could
- not possibly understand why, if you lived to be a million years old.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He got up from his chair to the full height of his six-feet-one, and
- stretched one hundred and ninety pounds of bone and muscle.
- </p>
- <p>
- “And so I shall go to Sobrante and lose all of this all-important
- money, shall I?” he jeered. “Then, by all the gods of the Open
- Country, I hope I may! Old man, you have browsed through a heap of
- literature in your day, but I doubt if it has done you any good. Permit me
- to map out a course of reading for you. Get a copy of 'Paradise Lost'
- and another of 'Cyrano de Bergerac.' In the former you will
- find a line running somewhat thusly: 'What tho' the cause be
- lost, all is not lost!' And in the immortal work of Monsieur
- Rostand, let me recommend one little page—about fifteen lines. Read
- them, old money-grubber, and learn! On second thought, do not read them.
- Those lines would only be wasted on you, for you have become afflicted
- with hypertrophy of the acquisitive sense, which thins the blood, dwarfs
- the understanding, stunts the perception of relative values, and chills
- the feet. .
- </p>
- <p>
- “Let me foretell your future for the next twenty years, Neddy. You
- will spend about forty per cent, of your time in this lounging-room,
- thirty per cent, of it in piling up a bank-roll, out of which you will
- glean no particular enjoyment, and the remaining thirty per cent, you will
- spend in bed. And then some bright morning your heart-beat will slow down
- almost imperceptibly, and the House Committee will order a wreath of
- autumn leaves hung just above Number Four domino table, and it will remain
- there until the next annual house-cleaning, when some swamper 'will
- say, 'What the devil is this stuff here for?' and forthwith he
- will tear it down and consign it to the fireplace.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ba-a-li,” growled Jerome.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The truth hurts, I know,” Webster pursued relentlessly,
- “but hear me to the bitter end. And then presently shall enter the
- club no less a personage than young John Stuart Webster, even as he
- entered it to-day. He will be smelling of country with the hair on, and he
- will glance toward Table Number Four and murmur sympathetically: 'Poor
- old Jerome! I knowed him good!' Did I hear you say 'Huh!'
- just then? I thank thee for teaching me that word. Take careful note and
- see I use it correctly—'<i>Huh!</i>' Dad burn you,
- Neddy, I'm not a Methuselah. I want some fun in life. I want to
- fight and be broke and go hungry and then make money for the love of
- making it and spending it, and I want to live a long time yet. I have a
- constitutional weakness for foregathering with real he-men, doing real
- he-things, and if I'm to be happy, I'll just naturally have to
- be the he-est of the whole confounded pack! I want to see the mirage
- across the sagebrush and hear it whisper: 'Hither, John Stuart
- Webster! Hither, you fool, and I'll hornswaggle you again, as in an
- elder day I horn,swaggled you before.'”
- </p>
- <p>
- Jerome shook his white thatch hopelessly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I thought you were a great mining engineer, John,” he said
- sadly, “but you're not. You're a poet. You do not seem
- to care for money.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well,” Webster retorted humorously, “it isn't
- exactly what you might term a ruling passion. I like to make it, but there's
- more fun spending it. I've made a hundred thousand dollars, and now
- I want to go blow it—and I'm going to. Do not try to argue
- with me. I'm a lunatic and I will have my way. If I didn't go
- tearing off to Sobrante and join forces with Billy Geary, there to play
- the game, red or black, I'd feel as if I had done something low and
- mean and small. The boy's appealed to me, and I have made my answer.
- If I come back alive but broke, you know in your heart you'll give
- me the best job you have.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You win,” poor Jerome admitted.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hold the job open thirty days. At the end of that period I'll
- give you a definite answer, Neddy.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “There is no Balm in Gilead,” Jerome replied sadly. “Blessed
- are they that expect nothing, for they shall not be disappointed.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It's six-thirty,” Webster suggested. “Let's
- eat. Last call for that omelette soufflé, and we'll go to a show
- afterward. By the way, Neddy, how do you like this suit? Fellow in Salt
- Lake built it for me—ninety bucks!”
- </p>
- <p>
- But Jerome was not interested in clothing and similar foolishness. He only
- knew that he had lost the services of a mining engineer for whom he had
- searched the country for a month. He rose, dusting the cigar ashes from
- his vest, and followed sulkily.
- </p>
- <p>
- Despite the evidences of “grouch” which Jerome brought to the
- dinner table with John Stuart Webster, he was not proof against the latter's
- amazing vitality and boundless good spirits. The sheer weight of the
- Websterian optimism and power of enjoying simple things swept all of
- Jerome's annoyance from him as a brisk breeze dissipates the
- low-lying fog that hides a pleasant valley, and ere the second cocktail
- had made its appearance, the president of the Colorado Consolidated Mines
- Company, Limited, was doing his best to help Webster enjoy this one
- perfect night snatched from the grim processional of sunrise and sunset
- that had passed since last he had dallied with the fleshpots—that
- were to pass ere he should dally with them again according to his peculiar
- nature and inclination.
- </p>
- <p>
- Lovingly, lingeringly, Mr. Webster picked his way through the <i>hors d'ouvres</i>,
- declared against the soup as too filling, mixed the salad after a recipe
- of his own, served it and consumed it prior to the advent of the entrée,
- which if not the fashion in the West, at present, has not as yet gone
- entirely out of fashion. He revelled in breast of pheasant, with asparagus
- tips, and special baked potato; he thrilled with champagne at twelve
- dollars the quart, and a tender light came into his quizzical glance at
- sight of a brick of ice cream in four colours; he cheered for the omelette
- soufflé. In the end he demanded a tiny cheese fit for active service,
- cracked himself a peck of assorted nuts, and with a pot of black coffee
- and the best cigars possible of purchase in Denver, he leaned back at his
- ease and forgot the theatre in the long-denied delight of yarning with his
- old friend.
- </p>
- <p>
- At one o'clock next morning they were still seated in the cosy
- grill, smoking and talking. Jerome looked at his watch.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Great grief, Johnny!” he declared. “I must be trotting
- along. Haven't been out this late in years.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It's the shank of the evening, Neddy,” Webster pleaded,
- “and I'm hungry again. We'll have a nice broiled
- lobster, with drawn butter—eh, Ned? And another quart of that
- '98?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “My liver would never stand it. I'd be in bed for a week,”
- Jerome protested. “See you at the club to-morrow afternoon before
- you leave, I presume.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “If I get through with my shopping in time,” Webster answered,
- and reluctantly abandoning the lobster and accessories, he accompanied
- Jerome to the door and saw him safely into a taxicab.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sure you won't think it over, Jack, and give up this crazy
- proposition?” he pleaded at parting.
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster shook his head. “I sniff excitement and adventure and profit
- in Sobrante, Neddy, and I've just got to go look-see. I'm like
- an old burro staked out knee-deep in alfalfa just now. I won't take
- kindly to the pack—-”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And like an old burro, you won't be happy until you've
- sneaked through a hole in the fence to get out into a stubble-field and
- starve.” Jerome swore halfheartedly and promulgated the trite
- proverb that life is just one blank thing after the other—an
- inchoate mass of liver and disappointment!
- </p>
- <p>
- “Do you find it so?” Webster queried sympathetically.
- </p>
- <p>
- Suspecting that he was being twitted, Jerome looked up sharply, prepared
- to wither Webster with that glance. But no, the man was absolutely
- serious; whereupon Jerome realized the futility of further argument and
- gave John Stuart Webster up for a total loss. Still, he could not help
- smiling as he reflected how Webster had planned a year of quiet enjoyment
- and Fate had granted him one brief evening. He marvelled that Webster
- could be so light-hearted and contented under the circumstances.
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster read his thoughts. “Good-bye, old man,” he said, and
- extended his hand. “Don't worry about me. Allah is always kind
- to fools, my friend; sorrow is never their portion. I've led rather
- a humdrum life. I've worked hard and never had any fun or excitement
- to speak of, and in answering Billy's call I have a feeling that I
- am answering the call of a great adventure.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He did not know how truly he spoke, of course, but if he had, that
- knowledge would not have changed his answer.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER V
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE morning
- following his decision to play the rôle of angel to Billy Geary's
- mining concession in Sobrante, John Stuart Webster, like Mr. Pepys, was up
- betimes.
- </p>
- <p>
- Nine o'clock found him in the office of his friend Joe Daingerfield,
- of the Bingham Engineering Works, where, within the hour, he had in his
- characteristically decisive fashion purchased the machinery for a
- ten-stamp mill and an electric light plant capability of generating two
- hundred and fifty horsepower two electric hoists with cable, half a dozen
- steel ore buckets, as many more ore-cars with five hundred feet of rail, a
- blacksmithing outfit, a pump, motors, sheet steel to line the
- crushing-bins and form shovelling platforms for the ore in the workings,
- picks, shovels drills, and so forth. It was a nice order and Dangerfield
- fwas delighted.
- </p>
- <p>
- “This is going to cost you about half your fortune, Jack,” he
- informed Webster when the order was finally made up.
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster grinned. “You don't suppose I'm chump enough to
- pay for it now, do you, Joe?” he queried.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You'll pay at least half, my son. We love you, Jack; we
- honour and respect you; but this stuff is going to Central America, and in
- the event of your premature demise, we might not get it back. They have
- wars down there, you know, and when those people are war-mad, they destroy
- things.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I know. But I'm going first to scout the country, Joe, and in
- the meantime keep all this stuff in your warehouse until I authorize you
- by cable to ship, when you can draw on me at sight for the entire invoice
- with bill of lading attached. If, upon investigation, I find that this
- mine isn't all my partner thinks it is, I'll cable a
- cancellation, and you can tear that nice fat order up and forget it. I don't
- intend to have you and that gang of penny-pinching card-room engineers up
- at the Engineers' Club remind me of the old adage that a fool and
- his money are soon parted.”
- </p>
- <p>
- From Daingerfield's office Webster went forth to purchase a
- steamer-trunk, his railway ticket and sleeping-car reservation—after
- which he returned to his hotel and set about packing for the journey.
- </p>
- <p>
- He sighed regretfully as he folded his brand-new raiment, packed it in
- moth balls in his wardrobe-trunk, and ordered the trunk sent to a storage
- warehouse.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I was a giddy old bird of paradise for one night, at least,”
- he comforted himself, as he dressed instead in a suit of light-weight
- olive drab goods in which he hoped to enjoy some measure of cool comfort
- until he should reach Buenaventura and thus become acquainted with the
- foibles of fashion in that tropical centre.
- </p>
- <p>
- The remainder of the afternoon he spent among his old friends of the
- Engineers' Club, who graciously tendered him a dollar table d'hote
- dinner that evening and saw him off for his train at ten o'clock,
- with many a gloomy prophecy as to his ultimate destiny—the
- prevailing impression appearing to be that he would return to them in a
- neat long box labelled: <i>This Side Up—With Care—Use No Hooks</i>.
- </p>
- <p>
- Old Neddy Jerome, as sour and cross as a setting hen,' accompanied
- him in the taxicab to the station, loth to let him escape and pleading to
- the last, in a forlorn hope that Jack Webster's better nature would
- triumph over his friendship and boyish yearning for adventure. He clung to
- Webster's arm as they walked slowly down the track and paused at the
- steps of the car containing the wanderer's reservation, just as a
- porter, carrying some hand-baggage, passed them by, followed by a girl in
- a green tailor-made suit. As she passed, John Stuart Webster looked fairly
- into her face, started as if bee-stung, and hastily lifted his hat. The
- girl briefly returned his scrutiny with sudden interest, decided she did
- not know him, and reproved him with a glance that even passé old Neddy
- Jerome did not fail to assimilate.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0003" id="linkimage-0003"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0075.jpg" alt="0075 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0075.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- “Wow, wow!” he murmured. “The next time you try that,
- Johnny Webster, be sure you're right——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good land o' Goshen, Neddy,” Webster replied. “Fry
- me in bread-crumbs, if that isn't the same girl! Come to think of
- it, the conductor who gave me her name told me her ticket called for a
- stop-over in Denver! Let me go, Neddy. Quick! Good-bye, old chap. I'm
- on my way.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Nonsense! The train doesn't pull out for seven minutes yet.
- Who is she, John, and why does she excite you so?” Jerome recognized
- in his whimsical friend the symptoms of a most unusual malady—with
- Webster—and so he held the patient fast by the arm.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Who is she, you ancient horse-thief? Why, if I have my way—and
- I'm certainly going to try to have it—she's the future
- Mrs. W.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Alas! Poor Yorick, I knowed him well,” Jerome answered.
- “Take a tip from the old man, John. I've been through the mill
- and I know. Never marry a girl that can freeze you with a glance. It isn't
- safe, and remember, you're not as young as you used to be. By the
- way, what's the fair charmer's name?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I've got it down in my memorandum book, but I can't
- recall it this minute—Spanish name.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “John, my dear boy, be careful,” Neddy Jerome counseled.
- “Stick to your own kind of people——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'll not. That girl is as trim and neat and beautiful as a
- newly minted guinea. What do I want with a Scotch lassie six feet tall and
- a believer in hell-fire and infant damnation?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Is this—a—er—a nice girl, John?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “How do I know—I mean, how dare you ask? Of course she's
- nice. Can't you see she is? And besides, why should you be so
- fearful——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'll have you understand, young man, that I have considerable
- interest in the girl you're going to marry. Drat it, boy, if you
- marry the wrong girl she may interfere with my plans. She may be a
- spoil-sport and not want to live up at the mine—after you return
- from this wild-goose chase, dragging your fool tail behind you. By the
- way, where did you first meet this girl? Who introduced you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I haven't met her, and I've never been introduced,”
- Webster complained, and poured forth the tale of his adventure on the
- train from Death Valley. Neddy was very sympathetic.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, no wonder she didn't recognize you when you saluted her
- to-night,” he agreed. “Thought you were another brute of a man
- trying to make a mash. By thunder, Jack, I'm afraid you made a
- mistake when you shed your whiskers and buried your old clothes. You don't
- look nearly so picturesque and romantic now, and maybe she'll refuse
- to believe you're the same man!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don't care what she thinks. I found her, I lost her, and I've
- found her again; and I'm not going to take any further chances. I
- wired a detective agency to pick her up in Salt Lake and trail her to New
- Orleans and get me all the dope on her, while I was in temporary
- retirement with my black eye. Brainless fellows, these amateur detectives.
- I'll never employ one again. I described her accurately—told
- them she was beautiful and that she was wearing a green tailor-made suit;
- and will you believe me, Neddy, they reported to me next day that their
- operative failed to pick her up at the station? He said three beautiful
- women got off the train there, and that none of them wore a green dress.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, it's just barely possible she may have another dress,”
- Jerome retorted slyly. “Women are funny that way. They change their
- dresses about as often as they change their minds.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, that's so,” Webster answered innocently. “I
- never thought of that.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The porter, having delivered his charge's baggage in her section,
- was returning for another tip. Webster reached out and accosted him.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Henry,” he said, “do you want to earn a dollar?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, sah. Yes indeed, sah.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “Where did you stow that young lady's hand-baggage?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Lower Six, Car Nine, sah.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have a weakness for coloured boys who are quick at figures,”
- Webster declared, and dismissed the porter with the gratuity. He turned to
- Jerome. “Neddy, I feel that I am answering the call to a great
- adventure,” he declared solemnly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I know it, Jack. Good-bye, son, and God bless you. If your fit of
- insanity passes within ninety days, cable me; and if you're broke,
- stick the Colorado Con' for the cable tolls.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good old wagon!” Webster replied affectionately. Then he
- shook hands and climbed aboard the train. The instant he disappeared in
- the vestibule, however, Neddy Jerome waddled rapidly down the track to Car
- Nine, climbed aboard, and made his way to Lower Six. The young lady in the
- green tailor-made suit was there, looking idly out the window.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Young lady,” Jerome began, “may I presume to address
- you for a moment on a matter of very great importance to you? Don't
- be afraid of me, my dear. I'm old enough to be your father, and
- besides, I'm one of the nicest old men you ever met.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She could not forbear a smile. “Very well, sir,” she replied.
- </p>
- <p>
- Neddy Jerome produced a pencil and card. “Please write your name on
- this card,” he pleaded, “and I'll telegraph what I want
- to say to you. There'll be a man coming through this car in a
- minute, and I don't want him to see me here—besides which, the
- train leaves in half a minute, and I live in Denver and make it a point to
- be home and in bed not later than ten each night. Please trust me, young
- lady.” ^
- </p>
- <p>
- The young lady did not trust him, however, although she wrote on the card.
- Jerome thanked her and fled as fast as his fat old legs could carry him.
- Under the station arc he read the card.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Henrietta Wilkins,'” he murmured. “By the
- gods, one would never suspect a name like that belonged to a face like
- that. I know that name is going to jar Jack and cause him to seethe with
- ambition to change it. He'll trim the <i>Henrietta</i> down to plain
- <i>Retta</i>, and change <i>Wilkins to Webster!</i> By jingo, it <i>would</i>
- be strange if that madman persuaded her to marry him. I hope he does. If I'm
- any judge of character, Jack Webster won't be cruel enough to chain
- that vision to Sobrante; and besides, she's liable to make him
- decide who's most popular with him—Henrietta or Billy Geary.
- If she does, I'll play Geary to lose. However, if that confirmed old
- bachelor wants to chase rainbows, I might as well help him out, since
- whichever way the cat jumps I can't lose. It's to my interest
- to have him marry that girl, or any girl, for that matter, because she'll
- have something to say about the advisability of kicking aside what
- amounts, approximately, to thirty thousand a year, in order to sink the
- family bankroll in a wildcat mine in the suburbs of hell. Well! Needs must
- when the devil drives.” And he entered the station telegraph office
- and commenced to write.
- </p>
- <p>
- An hour later Miss Dolores Ruey, alias Henrietta Wilkins, was handed this
- remarkably verbose and truly candid telegram:
- </p>
- <p>
- Denver, Colo., Aug. 7, 1913. Miss Henrietta Wilkins,
- </p>
- <p>
- Lower 6, Car 9,
- </p>
- <p>
- On board train 24.
- </p>
- <p>
- Do you recall the bewhiskered, ragged individual you met on the S.P., L.A.
- & S.L. train in Death Valley ten days ago? He thrashed a man who
- annoyed you, but owing to a black eye and his generally unpresentable
- appearance, he remained in his stateroom the remainder of the trip and you
- did not see him again until to-night. He lifted his hat to you to-night,
- and you almost killed him with a look. It did not occur to him that you
- would not recognize him disguised as a gentleman, and he lifted his hat on
- impulse. Do not hold it against him. The sight of you again set his reason
- tottering on its throne, and he told me his sad story.
- </p>
- <p>
- This man, John Stuart Webster, is wealthy, single, forty, fine, and crazy
- as a March hare. He is in love with you.
- </p>
- <p>
- You might do worse than fall in love with him. He is the best mining
- engineer in the world, and he is now aboard the same train with you, en
- route to New Orleans, thence to take the steamer to Buenaventura,
- Sobrante, C. A., where he is to meet another lunatic and finance a hole in
- the ground. He has just refused a thirty-thousand-dollar-a-year job from
- me to answer the call of a mistaken friendship. I do not want him to go to
- Sobrante. If you marry him, he will not. If you do not marry him, you
- still might arrange to make him listen to reason. If you can induce him to
- come to work for me within the next ninety days, whether you marry him or
- not, I will give you five thousand dollars the day he reports on the job.
- Please bear in mind that he does not know I am doing this. If he did, he
- would kill me, but business is business, and this is a plain business
- proposition. I am putting you wise, so you will know your power and can
- exercise it if you care to earn the money. If not, please forget about it.
- At any rate, please do me the favour to communicate with me on the
- subject, if at all interested.
- </p>
- <p>
- Edward P. Jerome.
- </p>
- <p>
- President Colorado Consolidated Mines, Limited.
- </p>
- <p>
- Care Engineers' Club.
- </p>
- <p>
- The girl read and reread this telegram several times, and presently a slow
- little smile commenced to creep around the corners of her adorable mouth,
- for out of the chaos of emotions induced by Ned Jerome's amazing
- proposition, the humour of the situation had detached itself to the
- elimination of everything else.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I believe that amazing old gentleman is absolutely dependable,”
- was the decision at which she ultimately arrived, and calling for a
- telegraph blank, she wired the old schemer:
- </p>
- <p>
- Five thousand not enough money. Make it ten thousand and I will guarantee
- to deliver the man within ninety days. I stay on this train to New
- Orleans.
- </p>
- <p>
- Henrietta.
- </p>
- <p>
- That telegram arrived at the Engineers' Club about midnight, and
- pursuant to instructions, the night barkeeper read it and phoned the
- contents to Neddy Jerome, who promptly telephoned his reply to the
- telegraph office, and then sat on the edge of his bed, scratching his toes
- and meditating.
- </p>
- <p>
- “That's a remarkable young woman,” he decided, “and
- business to her finger-tips. Like the majority of her sex, she's out
- for the dough. Well, I've done my part, and it's now up to
- Jack Webster to protect himself in the clinches and breakaways.”
- </p>
- <p>
- About daylight a black hand passed Neddy Jerome's reply through the
- berth-curtains to Dolores Ruey. She read:
- </p>
- <p>
- Accept. When you deliver the goods, communicate with me and get your
- money.
- </p>
- <p>
- Jerome.
- </p>
- <p>
- She snuggled back among the pillows and considered the various aspects of
- this amazing contract which she had undertaken with a perfect stranger.
- Hour after hour she lay there, thinking over this.
- </p>
- <p>
- As she passed, John Stuart Webster looked fairly into her face, v started
- as if bee-stung, and hastily lifted his hat preposterous situation, and
- the more she weighed it, the more interesting and attractive the
- proposition appeared. But one consideration troubled her. How would the
- unknown knight manage an introduction? Or, if he failed to manage it, how
- was she to overcome that obstacle?
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, dear,” she murmured, “I do hope he's brave.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She need not have worried. Hours before, the object of her thought had
- settled all that to his own complete satisfaction, and as a consequence
- was sleeping peacefully and gaining strength for whatever of fortune, good
- or ill, the morrow might bring forth.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER VI
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">D</span>AY was dawning in
- Buenaventura, republic of Sobrante, as invariably it dawns in the tropics—without
- extended preliminary symptoms. The soft, silvery light of a full moon that
- had stayed out scandalously late had merged imperceptibly into gray; the
- gray was swiftly yielding place to a faint crimson that was spreading and
- deepening upward athwart the east.
- </p>
- <p>
- In the Calle Nueva a game cock, pride of an adoring family of Sobrante's
- lower class, crowed defiance to a neighbouring bird. A dog barked. From
- the patch of vivid green at the head of the Calle San Rosario a troupe of
- howling monkeys raised a sun-up cheer that marked the finish of a night of
- roystering; from wattled hut and adobe <i>casa</i> brunette women in red
- calico wrappers came forth, sleepy-eyed and dishevelled; and presently
- from a thousand little adobe fireplaces in a thousand backyards thin blue
- spirals of smoke mounted—incense to the household gods of Sobrante—Tortilla
- and Frijoles. Brown men, black men, lemon-tinted men, and white men whose
- fingernails showed blue instead of white at the base, came to the doors of
- their respective habitations, leaned against them, lighted post-breakfast
- cigarettes, and waited for somebody to start something.
- </p>
- <p>
- To these indolent watchers of the dawn was vouchsafed presently the sight
- of Senora Concepcion Josefina Morelos on her way to early mass at the
- Catedral de la Vera Cruz. Men called to each other, when she passed, that
- Senora Morelos shortly would seek, in a Carmelite convent, surcease from
- the grief caused by the premature demise of her husband, General Pablo
- Morelos, at the hands of a firing-squad in the <i>cuartel</i> yard, as a
- warning to others of similar kidney to forbear and cease to tamper with
- the machinery of politics. And when Senora Morelos had passed, came
- Alberto Guzman with two smart mules hitched to a dilapidated street-car;
- came Don Juan Cafetéro, <i>peseta</i>-less, still slightly befuddled from
- his potations of the night before, and raising the echoes in the <i>calle</i>
- with a song singularly alien to his surroundings:
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- Green were the fields where my forefathers dwelt—
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- O, Erin, mavourneen, slan laght go bragh!
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- At the theatre we sit patiently waiting for the stage electrician to
- switch on the footlights and warn us that the drama is about to begin. Let
- us, in a broader sense, appropriate that cue to mark the beginning of the
- drama with which this story deals; instead of a stage, however, we have
- the republic of Sobrante; in lieu of footlights we have the sun popping up
- out of the Caribbean Sea.
- </p>
- <p>
- Those actors whose acquaintance we have so briefly made thus far must be
- presumed to be supers crossing the stage and loitering thereon while the
- curtain is down. Now, therefore, let us drive them into the wings while
- the curtain rises on a tropical scene.
- </p>
- <p>
- In the <i>patio</i> of Mother Jenks's establishment in the Çalle de
- Concordia, No. 19, the first shafts of morning light were filtering
- obliquely through the orange trees and creeping in under the deep,
- Gothic-arched veranda flanking the western side of the <i>patio</i>, to
- reveal a dusky maiden of more or less polyglot antecedents, asleep upon a
- bright, parti-coloured blanket spread over a wicker couch.
- </p>
- <p>
- Presently, through the silent reaches of the Calle de Concordia, the sound
- of a prodigious knocking and thumping echoed, as of some fretful
- individual seeking admission at the street door of El Buen Amigo, by which
- euphonious designation Mother Jenks's caravansary was known to the
- public of Buenaventura. In the second story, front, a window slid back and
- a woman's voice, husky with that huskiness that speaks so accusingly
- of cigarettes and alcohol, demanded:
- </p>
- <p>
- “<i>Quien es?</i> Who is it? <i>Que quiere usted?</i> Wot do yer
- want?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ye might dispinse wit' that paraqueet conversation whin
- addhressin' the likes av me,” a voice replied. “'Tis
- me—Cafferty. I have a cablegram Leber give me to deliver——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Gawd's truth! Would yer wake the 'ole 'ouse with
- yer'ammering?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right. I'll not say another worrd!”
- </p>
- <p>
- A minute passed; then the same husky voice, the owner of which had
- evidently descended from her sleeping chamber above, spoke in a steadily
- rising crescendo from a room just off the veranda:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Car-may-lee-ta-a-a!”
- </p>
- <p>
- We can serve no useful purpose by endeavouring to conceal from the reader,
- even temporarily, the information that Carmelita was the sleeping naiad on
- the couch; also that she continued to sleep, for hers was that quality of
- slumber which is the heritage of dark blood and defies any commotion short
- of that incident to a three-alarm fire. Three times the husky voice
- addressed Carmelita with cumulative vehemence; but Carmelita slept on, and
- presently the husky voice ceased to cry aloud for her. Followed the sound
- of bare feet thudding across the floor.
- </p>
- <p>
- Forth from the house came Mother Jenks, a redfaced, coarse-jowled,
- slightly bearded lady of undoubted years and indiscretion, in curl-papers
- and nightgown, barefoot and carrying a bucket. One scornful glance at the
- sleeping Carmelita, and mother Jenks crossed to the fountain plashing in
- the centre of the <i>patio</i>, filled her bucket, stepped to the veranda
- and dashed three gallons of tepid water into Carme-lita's face.
- </p>
- <p>
- <i>That</i> awakened Carmelita—Mother Jenks's raucous “Git
- up, yer bloody wench! Out, yer 'ussy, an' cook <i>almuerzo</i>.
- Gawd strike me pink, if I don't give yer the sack for this—an'
- sleepin' on my best new blenkit!” being in the nature of a
- totally unnecessary exordium.
- </p>
- <p>
- Carmelita shrieked and fled, while Mother Jenks scuttled along in pursuit
- like a belligerent old duck, the while she heaped opprobrium upon
- Carmelita and all her tribe, the republic of Sobrante, its capital, its
- government officials, and the cable company: Finally she disappeared into
- El Buen Amigo with a hearty Cockney oath at her own lack of foresight in
- ever permitting her sainted 'Enery to set foot on a foreign shore.
- </p>
- <p>
- Once inside, Mother Jenks proceeded down a tiled hallway to the <i>cantina</i>
- of her hostelry and opened the street door a few inches. Without the
- portal stood Don Juan Cafetéro, of whom a word or two before proceeding.
- </p>
- <p>
- To begin, Don Juan Cafetéro was not his real name, but rather a free
- Spanish translation of the Gaelic, John Cafferty. As would be indicated by
- the song he was singing when first we made his acquaintance, coupled with
- the unstable condition of his legs, Mr. Cafferty was an exile of Erin with
- a horrible thirst. He had first arrived in Sobrante some five years
- before, as section-boss in the employ of the little foreign-owned
- narrow-gauge railway which ran from Buenaventura on the Caribbean coast to
- San Miguel de Padua, up-country where the nitrate beds were located. Prior
- to his advent the railroad people had tried many breeds of section-boss
- without visible results, until a Chicago man, who had come to Sobrante to
- install an intercommunicating telephone system in the Government
- buildings, suggested to the superintendent of the road, who was a German,
- that the men made for bosses come from Erin's isle; wherefore Mr.
- Cafferty had been imported at a price of five dollars a day gold. Result—a
- marked improvement in the road-bed and consequently the train-schedules,
- and the ultimate loss of the Cafferty soul.
- </p>
- <p>
- Don Juan, with the perversity of the Celt, and contrary to precept and
- example, forbore to curse Sobrante. On the contrary, he liked Sobrante
- immediately upon arrival and so stated in public—this unusual state
- of affairs doubtless being due to the fact that his job furnished much of
- excitement and interest, for his driving tactics were not calculated to
- imbue in his dusky section-hands a love for the new section-boss; and from
- the day he took charge until he lost the job, the life of Don Juan
- Cafetéro had been equivalent in intrinsic value to two squirts of swamp
- water—possibly one.
- </p>
- <p>
- Something in the climate of Sobrante must have appealed to a touch of <i>laissez
- faire</i> in Don Juan's amiable nature, for in the course of time he
- had taken unto himself, without bell or book, after the fashion of the
- proletariat of Sobrante, the daughter of one Estebân Manuel Enrique José
- Maria Pasqual y Miramontes, an estimable peon who was singularly glad to
- have his daughter off his hands and no questions asked. Following the
- fashion of the country, however, Esteban had forthwith moved the remainder
- of his numerous progeny under the mantle of Don Juan Cafetéro's
- philanthropy, and resigned a position which for many years he had not
- enjoyed—to wit: salting and packing green hides at a local <i>abattoir</i>.
- This foolhardy economic move had so incensed Don Juan that in a fit of
- pique he spurned his father-in-law (we must call Esteban something and so
- why split hairs?) under the tails of his <i>camisa</i>, with such vigour
- as to sever forever the friendly relations hitherto existing between the
- families. Mrs. Cafferty (again we transgress, but what of it?)
- subsequently passed away in childbirth, and no sooner had she been
- decently buried than Don Juan took a week off to drown his sorrows.
- </p>
- <p>
- In this condition he had encountered Esteban Manuel Enrique José Maria
- Pasqual y Miramontes and called him out of his name—for which there
- appears to be little excuse, in view of the many the latter possessed. In
- the altercation that ensued Esteban, fully convinced that he had received
- the nub end of the transaction from start to finish, cut Don Juan severely
- in the region of the umbilicus; Don Juan had thereupon slain Esteban with
- a .44-calibre revolver, and upon emerging from the railroad hospital a
- month later had been tried by a Sobrantean magistrate and fined the sum of
- twenty thousand dollars, legal tender of the Republic of Sobrante. Of
- course he had paid it off within six months from his wages as
- section-boss, but the memory of the injustice always rankled in him, and
- gradually he moved down the scale of society from section-boss to day
- labourer, day labourer to tropical tramp, and tropical tramp to
- beach-comber, in which latter state he had now existed for several months.
- </p>
- <p>
- While waiting to round out the brief period of existence which drink and
- the devil had left him, this poor human fragment had become a protégé of
- Ignatz Leber, an Alsatian, manager for a German importing and exporting
- house, and agent for the cable company. By the grace of the philanthropic
- Ignatz, Don Juan slept under Leber's warehouse and ate in his
- kitchen.
- </p>
- <p>
- To return to Mother Jenks.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER VII
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">B</span>EFORE Don Juan
- could even utter a matutinal greeting, Mother Jenks laid finger to lip and
- silenced him. “Go back to Leber's and return in an hour,”
- she whispered. “I 'ave my reasons for wantin' that
- bloomin' cablegram delivered later.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Don Juan hadn't the least idea what Mother Jenks's reasons
- might be, but he presumed she was up to some chicanery, and so he winked
- his bloodshot eye very knowingly and nodded his acquiescence in the
- program; whereupon Mother Jenks started to close the door. Instantly Don
- Juan's foot was in the jamb; in a hoarse whisper he said:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Whilst ye're askin' favours, woman dear, ye might have
- the kindness to ask me if I have a mouth.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Bloomin' well I knows yer 'ave a mouth, for bloomin'
- well I smell yer blawsted breath,” Mother Jenks retorted. However,
- the present was no time to raise an issue with Don Juan, and so she
- slipped behind the bar of her <i>cantina</i>, poured five fingers of <i>aguardiente</i>,
- the local brand of disturbance, and handed it to Don Juan through the
- crack in the door.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Here's all the hair off your head,” Don Juan Cafetéro
- saluted her amiably. He tossed it off at a gulp, handed Mother Jenks the
- glass, and departed with a whispered promise to return in an hour.
- </p>
- <p>
- When he had gone, Mother Jenks went behind the bar and fortified herself
- with her morning's morning—which rite having been performed,
- her sleep-benumbed brain livened up immediately.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Gord's truth!” the lady murmured. “An' me
- about to turn him adrift for the lawst fortnight! Well for 'im
- 'e allers hadmired the picture o' my sainted 'Enery, as
- was the spittin' image of his own fawther. 'Evings! 'Ell's
- bells! But that was a bit of a tight squeak! Just as I'm fully
- conwinced 'e's beat it an' I'm left 'oldin'
- the sack, all along o' my kindness of 'eart, 'e gets the
- cablegram 'e's been lookin' for this two months past; an'
- 'e allers claimed as 'ow any time'e got a cablegram it'd
- be an answer to 'is letter, with money to foller! My word, but that
- was touch an' go! An' yet Willie's got such a tykin'
- w'y about him, I might 'ave knowed 'e was a gentleman!”
- </p>
- <p>
- Still congratulating herself upon her good fortune in intercepting Don
- Juan Cafetéro, Mother Jenks proceeded upstairs to her chamber, clothed
- herself, and adjourned to the kitchen, where Carmelita was already engaged
- in the preparation of the morning meal. After giving orders for an extra
- special breakfast for two, Mother Jenks returned to her <i>cantina</i>,
- and formally opened the same for the business of that day and night; while
- a lank Jamaica negro swept out the room and cleaned the cuspidors, she
- washed and polished her glassware and set her back bar in order. To her
- here came presently, via the tiled hallway, the object of her solicitude,
- a young man on the sunny side of thirty. At the first glance one suspected
- this individual to be a member of the Caucasian race; at the second glance
- one verified this suspicion. He was thin for one of his height and breadth
- of chest; in colour his countenance resembled that of a sick Chinaman. His
- hair was thick and wavy but lustreless; his dark blue eyes carried a hint
- of jaundice; and a generous mouth, beneath an equally generous upper lip,
- gave ample ground for the suspicion that while Mr. William Geary's
- speech denoted him an American citizen, at least one of his maternal
- ancestors had been wooed and won by an Irishman. An old panama hat, sad
- relic of a prosperous past, a pair of soiled buckskin pumps, a suit of
- unbleached linen equally befouled, and last but not least, the remnants of
- a smile that much hard luck could never quite obliterate, completed his
- attire—and to one a stranger in the tropics would appear to
- constitute a complete inventory of Mr. Geary's possessions. An
- experienced person, however, would have observed immediately that Mother
- Jenks's seedy guest had been bitten deeply and often by mosquitoes
- and was, in consequence, the proprietor of a low malarial fever, with its
- concomitant chills.
- </p>
- <p>
- “<i>Dulce corazon mio</i>, I extend a greeting,” he called at
- the entrance. “I trust you rested well last night, Mother Jenks, and
- that no evil dreams were born of your midnight repast of <i>frijoles
- refritos</i>, marmalade, and arf-an'-arf!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Chop yer spoofin', Willie,” Mother Jenks simpered.
- “My heye! So I'm yer sweet'eart, eh? Yer wheedlin'
- blighter, makin' love to a girl as is old enough to be yer mother!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “A woman,” Mr. Geary retorted sagely and not a whit abashed,
- “is at the apex of her feminine charms at thirty-seven.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He knew his landlady to be not a day under fifty, but such is the ease
- with which the Irish scatter their blarney, and such the vanity of the
- gentler sex (for despite Mother Jenks's assault upon Carmelita, we
- include the lady in that pleasing category), that neither Billy Geary nor
- Mother Jenks regarded this pretty speech in the light of an observation
- immaterial, inconsequential and not germane to the matter at issue. For
- Mother Jenks was the eternal feminine, and it warmed the cockles of her
- heart to be told she was only thirty-seven, even though reason warned her
- that the compliment was not garnished with the sauce of sincerity. As for
- Billy, the sight of Mother Jenks swallowing this specious bait, together
- with hook, line, and sinker, always amused him and for the nonce took his
- mind off his own troubles. Nevertheless, there was a deeper reason for his
- blarney. This morning, watching the tell tale tinge of pleasure underlying
- the alcohol-begotten hue of the good creature's face, he felt almost
- ashamed of his own heartlessness—almost, but not quite.
- </p>
- <p>
- Let us take Billy's view of his own case and view his mendacity with
- a kindly and tolerant eye. For two months he had existed entirely because
- of the leniency of Mother Jenks in the matter of credit.
- </p>
- <p>
- He could not pay her cash, devoutly as he hoped to do some day, and he
- considered it of the most vital importance that in the interim he should
- somehow survive. Therefore, in lieu of cash he paid her compliments, which
- she snapped up greedily.
- </p>
- <p>
- In the cold gray dawn of the morning after Mother Jenks always detected
- the bug in Billy's amber and vowed to rout him bag and baggage that
- very day; but when one is fond of blarney, it is hard indeed to destroy
- the source of it; and while Mother Jenks's courage had mounted to
- the point of action many a time, in the language of the sporting extra,
- Billy had always “beaten her to the punch”; for when instinct
- warned him that Mother Jenks was about to talk business, he could always
- rout her by declaring she was pencilling her eyebrows or rouging her
- cheeks.
- </p>
- <p>
- An inventive genius was Billy. He never employed the same defensive
- tactics two days in succession, and when personal flattery threatened to
- fail him, a large crayon reproduction of the late Henry Jenks, which hung
- over the back bar, was a never-failing source of inspiration.
- </p>
- <p>
- This was the “sainted'Enery” previously referred to by
- Mother Jenks. He had been a sergeant in Her Brittanic Majesty's
- Royal Horse Artillery, and upon retiring to the Reserve had harkened to a
- proposition to emigrate to Sobrante and accept a commission as colonel of
- artillery with the Government forces then in the throes of a revolutionary
- attack. The rebels had triumphed, and as a result 'Enery had been
- sainted via the customary expeditious route; whereupon his wife had had
- recourse to her early profession of barmaid, and El Buen Amigo had
- resulted.
- </p>
- <p>
- However, let us return to our sheeps, as Mr. Geary would have expressed
- it. Seemingly the effect of Billy's compliment was instantly
- evident, for Mother Jenks set out two glasses and a bottle.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I know yer a trifler, Willy Geary,” she simpered, “but
- if I do s'y it as shouldn't, I was accounted as 'andsome
- a barmaid as you'd find in Bristol town. I've lost my good
- looks, what with grief an' worritin' since losin' my
- sainted 'Enery, but I was 'andsome oncet.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I can well believe it, Mother—since you are handsome still!
- For my part,” he continued confidentially, as with shaking hand he
- filled his brandy-glass, “you'll excuse this drunkard's
- drink, Mother, but I need it; I had the shakes again last night—for
- my part, I prefer the full-blown rose to the bud.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mother Jenks fluttered like a <i>debutante</i> as she poured her drink.
- They touched glasses, calloused worldlings that they were.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Ow,” said Mother Jenks, toasting the philandering
- wretch.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How!” He tossed off his drink. It warmed and strengthened
- him, after his night of chills and fever, and brazenly he returned to the
- attack.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Changing the subject from feminine grace and charm to manly
- strength and virtue, I've been marking lately the resolute poise of
- your martyred husband's head on his fine military shoulders. There
- was a man, if I may judge from his photograph, that would fight a wildcat.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, m'ybe 'e wouldn't!” Mother Jenks
- hastened to declare. “You know, Willie, I was present w'en
- they shot 'im, a-waitin' to claim 'is body. 'E
- kisses me good-bye, an' says 'e: 'Brace up, ol'
- girl. Remember your 'usband's been a sergeant in 'Er
- Majesty's Royal 'Orse Artillery, an' don't let the
- bloody blighters see yer cry.' Then 'e walks out front, with
- 'is fine straight back to the wall, draws a circle on 'is blue
- tunic with white chalk an' says: 'Shoot at that, yer
- yeller-bellied bounders, an' be damned to yer!'”
- </p>
- <p>
- “To be the widow of such a gallant son of Mars,” Billy
- declared, “is a greater honour than being the wife of a duke.”
- </p>
- <p>
- For the sake of 'Enery's memory Mother Jenks squeezed out a
- tear. Billy would have egged her on to a lachrymal flood, for he knew she
- would enjoy it, but at that moment entered Carmelita, to announce
- breakfast.
- </p>
- <p>
- Mother Jenks, recalling her husband's last advice, declined to let
- even a Sobrantean girl see her weep. She composed herself instantly,
- filled her glass again, and pushed the bottle to Billy.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Ave another peg with Mother, Willie.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'll go you, Mother, although it's really my turn to
- set 'em up. I would if I had the price. However, I'm expecting
- action on that concession of mine pretty soon, Mother, and when I get
- straightened out, they'll date time in the Calle de Concordia from
- the spending toot I'll inaugurate. Ah, Mother,” he added with
- a note of genuine gratitude and sincerity, “you've been
- awfully good to me. I don't know what I'd have done without
- you.” He laid his hand on her fat arm. “Mother, one of these
- days I'll get mine, and when I do I'm going to stake you to a
- nice little pub back in Bristol.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She smiled at him with motherly tenderness and shook her head. In a
- concrete niche in the mortuary of the Catedrâl de la Vera Cruz the bones
- of her sainted 'Enery reposed, and when her hour came she would lie
- beside him. Moreover, she was a tropical tramp. She had grown to like
- Sobrante, for all her railing against it, and she knew she would never see
- the chalk cliffs of Albion again.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yer a sweet boy, Willie,” she told him, “an' I'd
- trust yer for double the score, s'help me. 'Eving knows I
- 'aven't much, but wot I 'ave I shares freely with them I
- likes. I 'ave a brace o' duck heggs, 'am an'
- 'ot cakes, Willie, an' yer 'll breakfuss with Mother.
- Duck heggs, 'am an' 'ot cakes, Willie. 'Ow's
- that? Eh, yer precious byby.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Billy's glistening eyes testified to the profundity of his feelings
- at the prospect of this Lucullan feast. It had been long since Mother
- Jenks's larder had yielded him anything more stable than brown
- beans, tortillas, fried onions, and an occasional dab of marmalade, and
- the task of filling in the corners of his appetite with free tropical
- fruit had long since grown irksome.
- </p>
- <p>
- Mother Jenks preceded him into the shady side of the veranda, where
- ordinarily she was wont to breakfast in solitary state. Her table was set
- for two this morning, however, but this extraordinary circumstance was
- lost sight of by the shameless Billy in the prospect of one more real meal
- before the chills and fever claimed their own. He flipped an adventurous
- cockroach off the table and fell to with fine appetite.
- </p>
- <p>
- He was dallying with a special brew of coffee, with condensed milk in it,
- when the Jamaica negro entered from the <i>cantina</i> to announce Don
- Juan Cafe-téro with a cablegram.
- </p>
- <p>
- “A cablegram!” Mother Jenks cried. “Gord's truth!
- I'll wager the pub it's for you, Willie.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I wonder! Can it be possible it's come at last?” Billy
- cried incredulously.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'd not be surprised,” Mother Jenks replied. “Bob”—turning
- to the negro, and addressing him in her own private brand of Spanish—“give
- Don Juan a drink, if 'e 'asn't helped 'imself
- while yer back is turned, an' bring the cablegram 'ere.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Within the minute Bob returned with a long yellow envelope, which he
- handed Mother Jenks. Without so much as a glance at the superscription,
- she handed it to Billy Geary, who tore it open and read:
- </p>
- <p>
- Los Angeles, Calif., U. S. A., August 16, 1913.
- </p>
- <p>
- Henrietta Wilkins,
- </p>
- <p>
- Calle de Concordia, No. 19,
- </p>
- <p>
- Buenaventura,
- </p>
- <p>
- Sobrante, C. A.
- </p>
- <p>
- Leaving to-day to visit you. Will cable from New Orleans exact date
- arrival.
- </p>
- <p>
- Dolores.
- </p>
- <p>
- The shadow of deep disappointment settled over Billy's face as he
- read. Mother Jenks noted it instantly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Wot's 'e got to s'y, Willie?” she demanded.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It isn't a he. It's a she,” Billy replied.
- “Besides, the cablegram isn't for me at all. It's for
- one Henrietta Wilkins, Calle de Concordia, Number Nineteen, and who the
- devil Henrietta Wilkins may be is a mystery to me. Ever have any boarder
- by that name, Mother?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mother Jenks's red face had gone white. “'Enrietta
- Wilkins was my maiden nyme, Willie,” she confessed soberly, “an'
- there's only one human as 'ud cable me or write me by that
- nyme. Gord, Willie, wot's 'appened?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'll read it to you, Mother.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Billy read the message aloud; and when he had finished, to his amazement,
- Mother Jenks laid her head on the table and began to weep.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER VIII
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>HEN Billy Geary
- could reorganize himself, as it were, after the shock incident to his
- discovery that the cablegram was not for him after all, he turned his
- attention to Mother Jenks. Without quite realizing why he did so, Billy
- decided that fear and not grief was at the bottom of the good creature's
- distress, and in his awkward, masculine way he placed his arm around
- Mother Jenks's shoulders, shook her gently, and bade her remember
- that chaos might come and go again, but he, the said William Geary, would
- remain her true and steadfast friend in any and all emergencies that might
- occur.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Gor' bless yer heart, Willie,” Mother Jenks sniffled.
- “If this was only somethink I could hentrust to a man! But it ain't.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, suppose you tell me what it is and let me be the judge,”
- Billy suggested. “I haven't got one <i>centavo</i> to rub
- against the other, and on present form and past performances I'm the
- last man in the world to handle an affair between two women, but—I
- have a head on my shoulders, and nobody ever had reason to suspect that
- head of being empty. Perhaps, if you care to give me your confidence, I
- may be of service to you, Mother.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Willie,” his landlady wailed, “I dunno wot in 'ell
- yer ever goin' to think o' me w'en I tell ye wot I've
- been up to this past fifteen year.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Whatever you've been up to, Mother, it was a kind and
- charitable deed—of that much I am certain,” Billy replied
- loftily and—to his own surprise—sincerely.
- </p>
- <p>
- “As Gord is my judge, Willie, it started out that w'y,”
- moaned Mother Jenks, and she squeezed Billy's hand as if from that
- yellow, shaking member she would draw aid and comfort. “'Er
- nyme is Dolores Ruey.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Any relation to the Ruey family of Buenaventura?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “A first cousin, Willie. 'Er father was Don Ricardo Ruey, <i>présidente</i>
- av this blasted 'ell on earth w'en me an' my sainted
- 'Enery first come to Buenaventura. 'E was too good for the
- yeller-bellied beggars; 'e tried to do somethink for them an'
- run the government on the square, an' they couldn't
- hunderstand, all along o' 'avin' been kicked an'
- cuffed by a long line of bloody rotters. It was Don Ricardo as gives my
- sainted 'Enery 'is commission as colonel in the hartillery.
- </p>
- <p>
- “That was all very well, you know, Willie, only Don Ricardo didn't
- go far enough. If 'e'd only 'arkened to 'Enery's
- advice an' imported a lot o' bloomin' Tommies to serve
- 'Enery's guns, 'im an' 'Enery never would
- 'ave faced that firin'-squad. Many's the time 'Enery's
- said to me: ''Enrietta, me 'art's broke tryin'
- to myke gunners out o' them blackamoors Don Ricardo gives me to
- serve the screwguns. They've been born without a sense o'
- distance!' Gor' bless you, Willie, my sainted 'Enery
- 'ad no bloomin' use for a range-finder. 'E'd cast
- 'is eye over the ground an' then try a shot for distance. M'ybe'e'd
- be a bit short. 'A bit more elevation, <i>amigos</i>,' says
- 'Enery, an' tries again. This time 'e's a bit over
- it, m'ybe, but the third or fourth shot 'e 'as the range
- an' stays right on the target. But then, Willie, as 'Enery
- used to s'y to me: ''Enrietta, how in blazes can I serve
- six guns? How can a colonel of hartillery come down off 'is 'orse
- an do a gunner's work? It ain't dignified.'”
- </p>
- <p>
- Billy nodded. He had heard that story so often in the past that he knew it
- by heart; from all he could learn the sainted 'Enery quite resembled
- a horse, in that he had room in his head for but one thought at a time. As
- a gunner-sergeant he was doubtless a loss to the British service, but as a
- colonel of So-brantean artillery he had tried to forget that once he had
- been a gunner-sergeant!
- </p>
- <p>
- “You've 'eard me tell,” Mother Jenks continued,
- “'ow the rebels got 'arf a dozen Hamerican gunners—deserters
- from the navy—an' blew 'Enery's battery to bits,
- 'ow the Government forces fell back upon Buenaventura, an' as
- 'ow w'en the dorgs begun to wonder if they mightn't
- lose, they quit by the 'undreds an' went over to the rebel
- side, leavin' Don Ricardo an' 'Enery an' m'ybe
- fifty o' the gentry in the palace. In course they fought to a
- finish; 'ristocrats, all of them, they 'ad to die fightin'
- or facin' a firin'-squad.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Again Billy nodded. He had heard the tale before, including the recital of
- the sainted 'Enery's gallant dash from the blazing palace in
- an effort to save Don Ricardo's only child, a girl of seven, and of
- his capture and subsequent execution.
- </p>
- <p>
- “That ended the revolution,” Mother Jenks concluded. “But
- 'ere's somethink I've never told a livin' soul.
- Shortly before 'Enery was hexecuted, 'e told me where 'e'd
- 'id the youngster—in a culvert out on the Malecon; so I
- 'ired a four-wheeler an' went out an' rescued the pore
- lamb. She'd been 'idin' there thirty-six hours an'
- was well-nigh dead, an' as there ain't no tellin' what a
- mob o' these spiggoties 'll do when they're excited, I
- 'id 'er until the harrival o' the next fruit steamer, w'en
- I shipped 'er to New Orleans in care o' the stewardess. Hi
- 'ad 'er put in the Catholic convent there, for as 'Enery
- said: ''Enrietta, keep an eye on the little nipper, an'
- do yer damndest to see she's raised a lydy. 'Er father was a
- gentleman, an' you never want to forget 'e made you Mrs.
- Colonel Jenks.' So Hi've made a lydy out o' her, Willie:
- education, pianner lessons, paintin', singin', an'
- deportmint. After she graduated from the convent, I 'ad her take a
- course in the Uniwersity o' California—New Orleans wasn't
- 'ealthy for'er, an' she needed a chynge o' climate—an'
- for the last two years she's been teachin' in the 'igh
- school in Los Angeles.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And you haven't seen her in all these years?” Geary
- demanded.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not a look, Willie. She's been after me ever since she
- graduated from the convent to let her come 'ome an' wisit me,
- but Hi've told'er to wyte—that I'd be comin'
- soon to wisit her. An' now, s'help me, she won't wait no
- longer; she's cornin' to wisit me! Gor', Willie, she's
- on her w'y!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “So this cablegram would indicate,” Geary observed. “Nevertheless,
- Mother, I'm at a loss to know why you should feel so cut up over the
- impending visit.”
- </p>
- <p>
- There was real fear in Mother Jenks's tear-dimmed eyes. “I
- cawn't let'er see me,” she wailed. “I wasn't
- this w'y w'en my sainted 'Enery hentrusted the lamb to
- me; it wasn't until awfter they hexecuted 'Enery that I
- commenced to slip—an' now look at me. Look at me, Willie
- Geary; look at me, I s'y. Wot do yer see? Aw, don't tell me I'm
- young an' 'andsome, for I knows wot I am. I'm a frowsy,
- drunken, disreputable baggage, with no heducation or nothink. I've
- raised'er a lydy on account of 'er bein' born a lydy an'
- her father bein' good to me an my 'Enery—an' all
- along, hever since she learned to write me a letter, I've been
- 'Enrietta Wilkins to'er, an' Mother Jenks to every
- beach-combin' beggar in the Caribbean tropics. I've lied to'er,
- Willie. I've wrote 'er as 'ow 'er fawther, before
- 'e died, give me enough money to heducate'er like a lydy——”
- </p>
- <p>
- Again Mother Jenks's grief overcame her. “An' wot lovin'
- letters my darlin' writes me,” she sobbed. “Calls me
- 'er lovin' Aunt 'Enrietta, an' me—Gor',
- Willie, I ain't respectable. She's comin' to see me—an'
- I cawn't let'er. She mustn't know 'ow I got the
- money for 'er heducation—sellin' 'ell-fire to a
- pack of rotten dorgs an' consortin' with the scum of this
- stinkin' 'ole! Oh, Willie, you've got to 'elp me.
- I cawn't 'ave'er comin' to El Buen Amigo to see
- me, an' I cawn't ruin 'er reputation by callin' on
- 'er in public at the 'Otel Mateo. Oh, Gor', Willie,
- Mother's come a cropper.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Willie agreed with her. He patted the sinful gray head of his landlady and
- waited for her to regain her composure, the while he racked his agile
- brain for a feasible plan to fit the emergency. He realized it would be
- quite useless to argue Mother Jenks into the belief that she might pull
- herself together, so to speak, and run the risk of meeting with her ward;
- for the old woman had been born in the slums of London and raised a
- barmaid. She knew her place. She was not a lady and could never hope now
- to associate with one, even in a menial capacity, so there was an end to
- it! During the past fifteen years, the lower Mother Jenks had sunk in the
- social scale, even of free-and-easy old Buenaventura, the higher had she
- raised the one sweet note in her sordid life; not until the arrival of
- that cablegram did she realize that during those fifteen years she had
- been raising a barrier between her and the object of her stifled maternal
- yearnings—a barrier which, to her class-controlled mind, could never
- be swept away.
- </p>
- <p>
- “She's been picturin' me in 'er mind all these
- years, Willie—picturin' a fraud,” wailed Mother Jenks.
- “If she sees me now, wot a shock she'll get, pore sweetheart—an'
- 'er the spittin' himage of a hangel. And oh, Willie, while she
- don't remember wot I looked like, think o' the shock if she
- meets me! In 'er lawst letter she said as 'ow I was the only
- hanchor she had in life. Ho, yes. A sweet-lookin' hanchor I am—an'
- Hi was 'opin' to die before she found hout. I've got a
- hanuerism in my 'eart, Willie, so the surgeon on the mail boat tells
- me, an' w'en I go, I'll go like—that!”
- Mother Jenks snapped her cigarette-stained fingers. “I 'ad the
- doctor come ashore the last time <i>La Estrellita</i> was in, on account o'
- 'im bein' a Hamerican an' up to snuff. An' Hi've
- got 'ardenin' of the harteries, too. I'm fifty-seven,
- Willie, an' since my sainted 'Enery passed away, I 'aven't
- been no bloomin' hangel.” She wrung her hands. “Oh, w'y
- in 'ell couldn't them harteries 'ave busted in time to
- save my lamb the 'umiliatin' knowledge that she's be'oldin'
- to the likes o' me for wot she's got—an' 'ow
- I got it for'er.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Billy Geary had a bright idea. “Well,” he said, “why not
- die—temporarily—if you feel that way about it? You could come
- back from the grave after she's gone.”
- </p>
- <p>
- But Mother Jenks shook her head. “No,” she declared. “While
- Dolores is self-supportin' now, still, if anythink 'appened an'
- she was to need 'elp, 'elp is somethin' no ghost can
- give. Think again, Willie. Gor', lad, w'ere's yer brains—an'
- you with your stummick filled to bustin' with a breakfast fit for a
- knight o' the bawth.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well,” Billy countered thoughtfully, “apparently there's
- no way of heading her off before she takes the steamer at New Orleans, so
- we'll take it for granted she'll arrive here in due course.
- About the time she's due, suppose you run up to San Miguel de Padua
- for a couple of weeks and leave me to run El Buen Amigo in your absence. I'll
- play fair with you, Mother, so help me. I'll account for every <i>centavo</i>.
- I'll borrow some decent clothes from Leber the day the steamer gets
- in; then I'll go aboard and look over the passenger-list, and if she's
- aboard, I'll tell her you closed your house and started for
- California to visit her on the last northbound steamer—that her
- cablegram arrived just after you had started; that the cable company,
- knowing I am a friend of yours, showed me the message and that I took it
- upon myself to call and explain that as a result of your departure for the
- United States it will be useless for her to land—useless and
- dangerous, because cholera is raging in Buenaventura, although the port
- authorities deny it——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Willie,” Mother Jenks interrupted impressively, a ghost of
- her old debonair spirit shining through her tears, “yer don't
- owe me a bloomin' sixpence! Yer've syved the day, syved my
- reputation, an' syved a lydy's peace o' mind. Kiss me,
- yer precious byby.”
- </p>
- <p>
- So Billy kissed her—gravely and with filial reverence, for he had
- long suspected Mother Jenks of being a pearl cast before swine, and now he
- was certain of it.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'll send her back to the United States and promise to cable
- you to await her there,” Billy continued. “Of course, we can't
- help it if you and the cablegram miss connections, and once the young lady
- is back in the United States, I dare say she'll have to stay there a
- couple of years before she can save the price of another sea voyage. And
- in the meantime she may marry——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Or that haneurism or my bally harteries may 'ave turned the
- trick before that,” Mother Jenks suggested candidly but joyously.
- “In course she'll be disappointed, but then disappointment
- never lays 'eavy on a young 'eart, Willie; an' bein'
- disappointed at not seein' a person you ain't really
- acquainted with ain't as bad as some disappointments.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I guess I know,” Billy Geary replied bitterly. “If that
- cablegram had only been for me! The only thing worth while I have done in
- my twenty-six years of life was to accumulate the best friend a man ever
- had—and lose him again because I was a fool and couldn't
- understand things without a blueprint! Mother, if my old partner could, by
- some miracle, manage to marry this Dolores girl, your arteries and your
- aneurisms might bust and be damned, but the girl would be safe.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “M'ybe,” Mother Jenks suggested hopefully, “yer
- might fix it up for her w'en I'm gone. From all haccounts
- 'e's no-end a gentleman.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He's a he-man,” Mr. Geary declared with conviction. He
- sighed. “John Stuart Webster, wherever you are, please write or
- cable,” he murmured.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER IX
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE ancient bromide
- to the effect that man proposes but God disposes was never better
- exemplified than in the case of John Stuart Webster, who, having
- formulated certain daring plans for the morrow and surrendered himself to
- grateful slumber in his stateroom aboard the Gulf States Limited, awoke on
- that momentous morn to a distinct apprehension that all was not as it
- should be with him. His mouth reminded him vaguely of a bird-and-animal
- store, and riot and insurrection had broken out in the geometric centre of
- his internal economy.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I believe I'm going to be too ill to eat breakfast,” he
- told himself.
- </p>
- <p>
- By seven o'clock this apprehension had crystallized into certainty.
- Webster had spent much of his life far from civilization, and as a result
- had found it necessary to acquire more than the layman's knowledge
- of rough-and-tumble surgery and the ordinary ills to which mortal is heir;
- consequently he was sufficient of a jack-leg doctor to suspect he was
- developing a splendid little case of ptomaine poisoning. He was aided in
- reaching this conclusion by memories of the dinner his friends had given
- him the night before, and at which he had partaken of a mallard duck,
- killed out of season and therefore greatly to be prized. He recalled the
- waiter's boast that the said duck had been hung for five days and
- had reached that state of ripeness and tenderness so greatly desired by
- those connoisseurs of food whose fool philosophy has been responsible for
- more deaths than most doctors. .
- </p>
- <p>
- “That brute of a duck was too far gone,” Mr. Webster
- soliloquized bitterly. “And to think I'm killed off in the
- mere shank of my celebration, just because I got so rich and stuck-up I
- had to tie into some offal to show what a discerning judgment I had in
- food, not to mention my distinctive appetite. I ought to be knocked on the
- head with something, and I hope I may be if I ever accept any man's
- judgment in opposition to my own, on the subject of ripe mallards. This is
- what comes of breaking the game laws.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He decided presently to go into executive session with the sleeping-car
- conductor, who wired ahead for a doctor to meet the train at the next
- station. And when the sawbones came and pawed Jack Webster over, he
- gravely announced that if the patient had the slightest ambition to vote
- at the next Presidential election, he should leave the train at St. Louis
- and enter a hospital forthwith. To this heart-breaking program Webster
- entered not the slightest objection, for when a man is seriously ill, he
- is in much the same position as a politician—to wit: he is in the
- hands of his friends. A sick man is always very sick—or thinks he
- is, which amounts to the same thing; and as a rule he thinks of little
- else save how sick he is. John S. Webster was, in this respect, neither
- better nor worse than others of his sex, and in his great bodily and
- mental depression his plans of the night before for getting acquainted
- with Dolores Ruey occurred to him now as something extremely futile and
- presumptuous. That young lady was now the subject least in his mind, for
- she was at most naught but a bright day-dream; whereas his friend Billy
- Geary was down in Sobrante with a rich wildcat mine waiting to be
- developed, while the source of development lay on a bed of pain assailed
- by secret apprehensions that all was over!
- </p>
- <p>
- “Poor Billy-boy!” the sufferer murmured. “He'll
- wait and wait, and his old Jack-partner won't come! Damn that duck!”
- </p>
- <p>
- He had one little stab of pain higher up, and around his heart, as they
- carried him off the train at St. Louis and stowed him in an ambulance
- thoughtfully provided for by telegraph. In a nebulous way it occurred to
- him that Fate had again crossed her fingers when paradise loomed on the
- horizon; but recalling how very ill he was, he damned the duck. He told
- himself that even if he should survive (which wasn't possible),
- there could be no doubt in his mind, after all he had been through, that
- the good Lord had marked him for a loveless, friendless, childless man;
- that it was useless to struggle against the inevitable. He felt very, very
- sorry for himself as the orderlies tucked him into bed and a nurse thrust
- a thermometer under his tongue.
- </p>
- <p>
- “A hundred and four and a quarter,” he heard her murmur to the
- doctor a few minutes later.
- </p>
- <p>
- “No bird ever flew so high that he didn't come down to roost,”
- said Mr. Webster aloud.
- </p>
- <p>
- The doctor and the nurse exchanged knowing glances. They nodded. The
- patient was already delirious—a bad sign.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hey, Doc,” the stricken man called. They bent over him.
- “Send—cablegram to Billy Geary—tell him—come home—before
- that thousand—spent—money—my pocket.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, I hear you,” the nurse said soothingly. “And the
- address?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Calle de Concordia, Nineteen, Buenaventura, Sobrante.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Say it again,” the nurse urged him. “Spell it.”
- Poor girl! She was a native of St. Louis. If Jack Webster had mentioned
- Ossawatomie or Canandaigua, he would not have been called upon to go into
- details and waste his strength. He gasped and wet his lips; she bent to
- get the message:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Damn that duck,” he whispered. “She had a green
- tailor-made suit, and—believe me, girl, I'd rather sell my
- Death Valley—borax-claims than—work them myself. Free-milling
- gold—catch it on amalgamating plates—contact between andesite
- and—Silurian limestone—Billy knows ducks. I taught him myself.
- Come, Neddy. All together now, you old—pelican. A little close
- harmony, boys:
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- “Let go the peak halyards,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Let go the peak halyards,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- My finger is caught in the block!
- </p>
- <p class="indent30">
- Leggo!”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sounds like a drinking man,” the doctor observed. “If
- that's the case, this attack will go hard with him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- It did. However, life had the habit of going hard with Webster so
- frequently that fortunately he was trained to the minute, and after three
- days of heroic battling the doctor awarded Jack the decision. Thereafter
- they kept him in the hospital ten days longer, “feeding him up”
- as the patient expressed it—at the end of which period Webster, some
- fifteen pounds lighter and not quite so fast on his feet as formerly,
- resumed his journey toward New Orleans.
- </p>
- <p>
- In the meantime, however, several things had happened. To begin, Dolores
- Ruey spent two days wondering what had become of her quondam knight of the
- whiskers—at the end of which period she arrived in New Orleans with
- the conviction strong upon her that while her hero might be as courageous
- as a wounded lion when dealing with men, he was the possessor, when
- dealing with women, of about two per cent, less courage than a cottontail
- rabbit. She reproached herself for the wintry glance she had cast upon the
- poor fellow that night at the Denver railway station; she decided that the
- amazing Neddy Jerome was an interfering, impudent old fool and that she
- had done an unmaidenly and brazen deed in replying to his ridiculous
- telegram, even though she did so under an assumed name. Being a very human
- young lady, however, she could not help wondering what had become of the
- ubiquitous Mr. Webster, although the fact that he had mysteriously
- disappeared from the train en route to New Orleans did not perturb her one
- half so much as it had the disappearee! She had this advantage over that
- unfortunate man. Whereas he did not know she was bound for Buenaventura,
- she knew he was; hence, upon arrival in New Orleans she dismissed him from
- her thoughts, serene in abiding faith that sooner or later her knight
- would appear, like little <i>Bo-Peep's</i> lost sheep, dragging his
- tail behind him, so to speak. The only regret she entertained arose from
- her disappointment in the knowledge of his real character, and its wide
- variance from the heroic attributes with which she had endowed him. She
- had depended upon him to be a daring devil—and he had failed to toe
- the scratch!
- </p>
- <p>
- Dolores spent a week in New Orleans renewing schoolgirl friendships from
- her convent days in the quaint old town. This stop-over, together with the
- one in Denver, not having been taken into consideration by Mr. William
- Geary when he and Mother Jenks commenced to speculate upon the approximate
- date of her arrival in Buenaventura, resulted in the premature flight of
- Mother Jenks to San Miguel de Padua, a fruitless visit on the part of
- Billy aboard the <i>Cacique</i>, of the United Fruit Company's line,
- followed by a hurry call to Mother Jenks to return to Buenaventura until
- the arrival of the next steamer.
- </p>
- <p>
- This time Billy's calculations proved correct, for Dolores did
- arrive on that steamer. It is also worthy of remark here that shortly
- after boarding the vessel and while <i>La Estrellita</i> was snoring down
- the Mississippi, Miss Dolores did the missing Webster the signal honour of
- scanning the purser's passenger list in a vain search for his name.
- </p>
- <p>
- At Buenaventura the steamer anchored in the roadstead; the port doctor
- came aboard, partook of his customary drink with the captain, received a
- bundle of the latest American newspapers and magazines, nosed around,
- asked a few perfunctory questions, and gave the vessel pratique.
- Immediately she was surrounded by lighters manned by clamorous, half-naked
- Sobranteans, each screaming in a horrible patois of English, Spanish, and
- good American slang perfervid praises of the excellence of his service
- compared with that of his neighbour. Dolores was particularly interested
- in the antics of one fellow who had a sign tacked on a short signal mast
- in his lighter. “I am a poor man with a large family, and my father
- was an American,” the legend ran. “Kind-hearted Americans will
- patronize me to the exclusion of all others.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Dolores had made up her mind to heed this pathetic appeal, when she
- observed a gasolene launch shoot up to the landing at the foot of the
- companion-ladder and discharge a well-dressed, youthful white man. As he
- came up the companion, the purser recognized him.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Howdy, Bill,” he called.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hello, yourself,” Mr. William Geary replied, and Dolores knew
- him for an American. “Do you happen to have as a passenger this trip
- a large, interesting person, by name John Stuart Webster?” added
- Billy Geary.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don't know, Billy. I'll look over the passenger-list.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No hope,” Billy replied mournfully. “If Jack Webster
- was aboard he'd have got acquainted with you. However, take a
- look-see to make certain.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Friend of yours?” the purser queried.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You bet. Likewise guide and philosopher. He should have been here
- on the last steamer—cabled me he was coming, and I haven't
- heard a word from him since. I'm a little worried.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'll get the list,” the purser announced, and together
- they moved off toward his office. Dolores followed, drawn by the mention
- of that magic name Webster, and paused in front of the purser's
- office to lean over the rail, ostensibly to watch the <i>cargadores</i> in
- their lighters clustering around the great ship, but in reality to learn
- more of the mysterious Webster.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Blast the luck,” Billy Geary growled, “the old sinner
- isn't here. Gosh, that's worse than having a note called on a
- fellow. By the way, do you happen to have a Miss Dolores Ruey aboard?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Dolores pricked up her little ears. What possible interest could this
- stranger have in her goings or comings?
- </p>
- <p>
- “You picked a winner this time, Bill,” she heard the purser
- say. “Stateroom Sixteen, boat-deck, starboard side. You'll
- probably find her there, packing to go ashore.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thanks,” Billy replied and stepped out of the purser's
- office. Dolores turned and faced him.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I am Miss Ruey,” she announced. “I heard you asking for
- me.” Her eyes carried the query she had not put into words: “Who
- are you, and what do you want?” Billy saw and understood, and on the
- instant a wave of desolation surged over him.
- </p>
- <p>
- So this was the vision he had volunteered to meet aboard <i>La Estrellita</i>,
- and by specious lie and hypo-critic mien, turn her back from the portals
- of Buenaventura to that dear old United States, which, Billy suddenly
- recalled with poignant pain, is a sizable country in which a young lady
- may very readily be lost forever. At the moment it occurred to Mr. Geary
- that the apotheosis of rapture would be a midnight stroll in the moonlight
- along the Malecon, with the little waves from the Caribbean lapping and
- gurgling against the beach, while afar, in some bosky retreat, a harp with
- a flute obbligato sobbed out “'Nita, Juanita” or some
- equally heart-throb ballad. Yes, that would be quite a joyous journey—with
- Dolores Ruey.
- </p>
- <p>
- Billy, with the quick eye of youth, noted that Dolores was perfectly
- wonderful in a white flannel skirt and jacket, white buck boots, white
- panama hat with a gorgeous puggaree, a mannish little linen collar, and a
- red four-in-hand tie. From under that white hat peeped a profusion of
- crinkly brown hair with a slightly reddish tinge to it; her eyes were big
- and brown and wide apart, with golden flecks in them; their glance met
- Billy's hungry gaze simply, directly, and with 'a curiosity
- there was no attempt to hide. Her complexion was that peculiar shade of
- olive, with a warm, healthy, underlying tinge that nobody could possibly
- hope to describe, but which fits in so beautifully with brown eyes of a
- certain shade. Her nose was patrician; her beautiful short upper lip
- revealed the tips of two perfect, milk-white front teeth: she was, Billy
- Geary told himself, a goddess before whom all low, worthless, ornery
- fellows like himself should grovel and die happy, if perchance she might
- be so minded as to walk on their faces! He was aroused from his critical
- inventory when the houri spoke again:
- </p>
- <p>
- “You haven't answered my question, sir!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No,” said Billy, “I didn't. Stupid of me, too. I
- was staring, instead—because, you see, it isn't often we poor
- expatriated devils down here climb out of Hades long enough to view the
- angels! However, come to think of it, you didn't ask me any
- question. You looked it. My name is Geary—William H. Geary, by
- profession a mining engineer and by nature an ignoramus, and I have called
- to deliver some disappointing news regarding Henrietta Wilkins.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Is she——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “She is very much alive and in excellent health—or rather was,
- the last time it was my pleasure and privilege to call on the dear lady.
- But she isn't in Buenaventura now.” Mentally Billy asked God
- to forgive him his black-hearted treachery to this winsome girl. He
- loathed the task he had planned and foisted upon himself, and nothing but
- the memory of Mother Jenks's manifold kindnesses to him in a day,
- thanks to Jack Webster, now happily behind him, could have induced him to
- go through to the finish. Mentally clinging to the memory of his
- obligations to Mother Jenks, Billy ruthlessly smothered his finer
- instincts and with breaking heart prepared to do or die.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, where is she?” Dolores queried, and Billy could have
- wept at the fright in those lovely brown eyes.
- </p>
- <p>
- He waved his hand airily. “<i>Quien sabe?</i>” he said.
- “She left three weeks ago for New Orleans to visit you. I dare say
- you passed each other on the road—here, here, Miss Ruey, don't
- cry. By golly, this is a tough one, I know, but be brave and we'll
- save something out of the wreck yet.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He took a recess of three minutes, while Dolores dabbed her eyes and went
- through sundry other motions of being brave. Then he proceeded with his
- nefarious recital.
- </p>
- <p>
- “When your cablegram arrived, Miss Ruey, naturally Mrs. Wilkins was
- not here to receive it, and as I was the only person who had her address,
- the cable-agent referred it to me. Under the circumstances, not knowing
- where I could reach you with a cable informing you that Mrs. Wilkins was
- headed for California to see you, I had no other alternative but let
- matters take their course. I decided you might arrive on <i>La Estrellita</i>,
- so I called to welcome you to our thriving little city, and, as a friend
- of about two minutes' standing, to warn you away from it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Billy's mien, as he voiced this warning, was so singularly
- mysterious that Dolores's curiosity was aroused instantly and rose
- superior to her grief. “Why, what's the matter?” she
- demanded.
- </p>
- <p>
- Billy looked around, as if fearful of being overheard. He lowered his
- voice. “We're going to have one grand little first-class
- revolution,” he replied. “It's due to bust almost any
- night now, and when it does, the streets of San Buenaventura will run red
- with blood. I shudder to think of the fate that might befall you, alone
- and unprotected in the city, in such event.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Dolores blanched. “Oh, dearie me,” she quavered. “Do
- they still have revolutions here? You know, Mr. Geary, my poor father was
- killed in one.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, and the same old political gang that shot him is still on
- deck,” Billy warned her. “It would be highly dangerous for a
- Ruey, man or woman, to show his or her nose around Buenaventura about now.
- Besides, Miss Ruey, that isn't the worst,” he continued, for a
- whole-hearted lad was Billy, who never did anything by halves. While he
- was opposed to lies and liars on broad, general principles, nevertheless
- whenever the exigencies of circumstance compelled him to backslide, his
- Hibernian impulsiveness bade him spin a yarn worth while. “The city
- is reeking with cholera,” he declared.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Cholera!” Dolores's big brown eyes grew Digger with
- wonder and concern. “Are there any other fatal diseases prevalent,
- Mr. Geary?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, we're not advertising it, Miss Ruey, but if I had an
- enemy to whom I wanted to slip a plain or fancy case of bubonic plague, I'd
- invite him to visit me at Buenaventura.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “How strange the port authorities didn't warn us at New
- Orleans!” Dolores suggested.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Tish! Tush! Fiddlesticks and then some. The fruit company censors
- everything, Miss Ruey, and the news doesn't get out. The port
- authorities here would never admit the truth of such reports, because it
- would be bad for business——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But the port doctor just said the passengers could go ashore.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What's a human life to a doctor? Besides, he's on the
- slush-fund pay-roll and does whatever the higher-ups tell him. You be
- guided by what I tell you, Miss Ruey, and do not set foot on Sobrantean
- soil. Even if you had a guarantee that you could escape alive, there isn't
- a hotel in the city you could afford to sleep in; Miss Wilkins's
- house is closed up, and Miss Wilkins's servants dismissed, and—er—well,
- if you stay aboard <i>La Estrellita</i>, you'll have your nice clean
- stateroom, your well-cooked meals, your bath, and the attentions of the
- stewardess. The steamer will be loaded in two days; then you go back to
- New Orleans, and by the time you arrive there I'll have been in
- communication by cable with Mother Jenks—I mean——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mother who?” Dolores demanded.
- </p>
- <p>
- “A mere slip of the tongue, Miss Ruey. I was thinking of my
- landlady. I meant Mrs. Wilkins——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You mean Miss Wilkins,” Dolores corrected him smilingly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “So I do. Of course, Miss Wilkins. Well, I'll cable her you're
- on your way back, and if you'll leave me your New Orleans address, I'll
- have her get in touch with you, and then you can have your nice little
- visit far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife and the
- death-dealing sting of the yellow-fever mosquito.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm so awfully obliged to you, Mr. Geary. You're so
- kind, I'm sure I'd be a most ungrateful girl not to be guided
- by you accordingly. You wouldn't risk any friend of yours in this
- terrible place, would you, Mr. Geary?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Indeed, I would not. By permitting anybody I thought anything of to
- come to this city, I should feel guilty of murder.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm sure you would, Mr. Geary. Nevertheless, there is one
- point that is not quite clear in my mind, and I wish you'd explain——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Command me, Miss Ruey.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “If this is such a frightful place, why are you so anxious, if I may
- employ such language, to hornsgoggle your dearest friend, Mr. John S.
- Webster, into coming down here? Do you want to kill him and get his money—or
- what?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Billy's face flamed at thought of the embarrassing trap his glib
- tongue had led him into. He cursed himself for a star-spangled jackass,
- and while he was engaged in this interesting pastime Dolores spoke again.
- </p>
- <p>
- “And by the way, which is it? Miss Wilkins or Mrs.? You've
- called her both, and when I reminded you she was a Miss, you agreed with
- me, whereas she is nothing of the sort. She's a Mrs. Then you
- blurted out something about a Mother Jenks, and finally, Mr. Geary, it
- occurs to me that for a complete stranger you are unduly interested in my
- welfare. I'm not such a goose as to assimilate your weird tales of
- death from disease. I might have accepted the revolution, because I know
- it's the national outdoor sport down here, and I might have accepted
- the cholera, because it wouldn't surprise me; but when you so
- artlessly throw in bubonic plague and yellow fever for good measure, Mr.
- Geary, you tax my credulity. It occurs to me that if your friend John S.
- Webster can risk Buenaventura, I can also.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You—you know that old tarantula?” Billy gasped. “Why
- I—I came out to warn him off the grass, too.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Dolores walked a step closer to Billy and eyed him disapprovingly. “I'm
- so sorry I can't believe that statement,” she replied. “With
- the exception of your tendency toward fiction, you're rather a
- presentable young man, too. It's really too bad, but it happens that
- I was standing by the companion-ladder when you came aboard and spoke to
- the purser; when you asked him if Mr. Webster was aboard, your face was
- alight with eagerness and anticipation, but when you had reason to believe
- he was not aboard, you looked so terribly disappointed I felt sorry for
- you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, of course I would have been delighted to meet the old boy,”
- Billy began, but she interrupted him.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mr. Geary, you're about as reliable as a Los Angeles
- thermometer—and if you've ever lived in a town the main asset
- of which is climate, you know just how reliable you are. Now, let us
- understand each other, Mr. Geary: If you think I'm the kind of
- simple, trusting little country maid who would come within half a mile of
- the land of her birth and then run back home because somebody said 'Boo!'
- you are not nearly so intelligent as you look. I'm going ashore, if
- it's the last act of my life, and when I get there I'm going
- to interview the cable agent; then I'm going to call at the
- steamship office and scan the passenger list of the last three north-bound
- steamers, and if I do not find Henrietta Wilkins's name on one of
- those passenger lists I'm going up to Calle de Concordia Number
- Nineteen——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I surrender unconditionally,” groaned Billy. “I'm
- a liar from beginning to end. I overlooked my hand. I forgot that while
- you were born in this country and bred from several generations of
- Sobranteans, you were raised in the U. S. A. I beg of you to believe me,
- however, when I tell you that I only told you those whoppers because I was
- in honour bound to tell them. Personally, I don't want you to go
- away—at least, not until I'm ready to go away, too! Miss Ruey,
- my nose is in the dust. On my lying head there is a ton of ashes and a
- thousand running yards of sackcloth. There is a fever in my brain and a
- misery in my heart——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And contrition in your face,” she interrupted him laughingly.
- “You're forgiven, Mr. Geary—on one condition.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Name it,” he answered.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Tell me everything from beginning to end.”
- </p>
- <p>
- So Billy told her, for there are some women in this world to whom a man
- with a poker face, the imagination of a Verne, and the histrionic art of
- an Irving cannot—nay, dare not—tell a lie. “I would much
- rather have been visited with a plague of boils, like our old friend, the
- late Job, than have to tell you this, Miss Ruey,” Bill concluded his
- recital. “Man proposes, but God disposes, and you're here and
- bound to learn the truth sooner or later. Mother isn't a lady and
- she knows it, but take it from me, Miss Ruey, she's a grand old
- piece of work. She's a scout—a ring-tailed sport—a
- regular individual and game as a gander.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “In other words,” Dolores replied smilingly, “she has a
- heart of gold.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Twenty-four carat, all wool and a yard wide,” Billy declared,
- mixed-metaphorically.
- </p>
- <p>
- “And I mustn't call at El Buen Amigo, Mr. Geary?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Perish the thought! Mother must call on you. El Buen Amigo is what
- you might term a hotel for tropical tramps of the masculine sex. Nearly
- all of Mother's guests have a past, you know. They're the
- submerged white tenth of Sobrante.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then my benefactor must call to see me here?” Billy nodded.
- “When will you bring her here?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Billy reflected that Mother Jenks had been up rather late the night before
- and that trade in the <i>cantina</i> of El Buen Amigo had been unusually
- brisk; so since he desired to exhibit the old lady at her best, he
- concluded it might be well to spar for wind.
- </p>
- <p>
- “To-morrow at ten,” he declared. Dolores inclined her head.
- Something told her she had better leave all future details to the amiable
- William.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I take it you are a guest at El Buen Amigo, Mr. Geary,” she
- continued.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, yes. I've been a guest for about two weeks now; before
- that I was an encumbrance. Now I'm paying my way—thanks to an
- old side-kicker of mine, Jack Webster.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But surely you're not a tropical tramp, Mr. Geary?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I was, but Jack Webster reformed me,” Billy answered
- quizzically. “You know—power of wealth and all that.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I remember you inquired for your friend Mr. Webster when you came
- aboard the steamer.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I remember it, too,” Billy countered ruefully. “I can't
- imagine what's become of him. I suppose I'll have a cable from
- him any day, though, telling me he'll be along on the next steamer.
- Miss Ruey, did you ever go to meet the only human being in the world and
- discover that for some mysterious reason he had failed to keep the
- appointment? If you ever have, you'll know just how cheerful I felt
- when I didn't find Jack's name on the passenger list. Miss
- Ruey, you'll have to meet old John Stuart the minute he lights in
- Buenaventura. He's some boy.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “<i>Old</i> John Stuart?” she queried. “How old?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, thirty-nine or forty on actual count, but one of the kind that
- will live to be a thousand and then have to be killed with an axe. He's
- coming to Sobrante to help me put over a mining deal.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “How interesting, Mr. Geary! No wonder you were disappointed.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The last sentence was a shaft deliberately launched; to Dolores's
- delight it made a keyhole in Billy Geary's heart.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Don't get me wrong, Miss Ruey,” he hastened to assure
- her. “I have a good mine, but I'd trade it for a hand-shake
- from Jack! The good Lord only published one edition of Jack, and limited
- the edition to one volume; then the plates were melted for the junk we
- call the human race.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, do tell me all about him,” Dolores pleaded. Billy, always
- interested in his favourite topic, beamed with boyish pleasure. “No,”
- he said, “I'll not tell you about him, Miss Ruey. I'll
- just let him speak for himself. We used to be as close to each other as
- peas in a pod, back in Colorado, and then I made a monkey of myself and
- shook old Jack without even saying good-bye. Miss Ruey, my action didn't
- even dent his friendship for me. Two weeks ago, when I was sick and
- penniless and despairing, the possessor of a concession on a fortune but
- without a <i>centavo</i> in my pockets to buy a banana, when I was a
- veritable beach-comber and existing on the charity of Mother Jenks, I
- managed finally to communicate with old Jack and told him where I was and
- what I had. There's his answer, Miss Ruey, and I'm not ashamed
- to say that when I got it I cried like a kid.” And Billy handed her
- John Stuart Webster's remarkable cablegram, the receipt of which
- had, for Billy Geary, transformed night into day, purgatory into paradise.
- Dolores read it.
- </p>
- <p>
- “No wonder you love him,” she declared, and added artlessly:
- “His wife must simply adore him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “'He has no wife to bother his fife, so he paddles his own
- canoe,'” Billy recited. “I don't believe the old
- sour-dough has ever been in love with anything more charming than the
- goddess of fortune. He's womanproof.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “About Mrs. Jenks,” Dolores continued, abruptly changing the
- subject. “How nice to reflect that after she had trusted you and
- believed in you when you were penniless, you were enabled to justify her
- faith.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You bet!” Billy declared. “I feel that I can never
- possibly hope to catch even with the old Samaritan, although I did try to
- show her how much I appreciated her.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I dare say you went right out and bought her an impossible hat,”
- Dolores challenged roguishly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, I didn't—for a very sufficient reason. Down here
- the ladies do not wear hats. But I'll tell you what I did buy her,
- Miss Ruey—and oh, by George. I'm glad now I did it. She'll
- wear them to-morrow when I bring her to see you. I bought her a new black
- silk dress and an old lace collar, and a gold breast-pin and a
- tortoise-shell hair comb and hired an open carriage and took her for an
- evening ride on the Malecon to listen to the band concert.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Did she like that?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “She ate it up,” Billy declared with conviction. “I
- think it was her first adventure in democracy.” Billy's pulse
- was still far from normal when he reached El Buen Amigo, for he was
- infused with a strange, new-found warmth that burned like malarial fever
- but wasn't. He wasted no preliminaries on Mother Jenks, but bluntly
- acquainted her with the facts in the case.
- </p>
- <p>
- Mother Jenks eyed him a moment wildly. “Gord's truth!”
- she gasped; she reached for her favourite elixir, but Billy got the bottle
- first.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Nothing doing,” he warned this strange publican. “Mother,
- you're funking it—and what would your sainted 'Enery say
- to that? Do you want that angel to kiss you and get a whiff of this
- brandy?” Mother Jenks's eyes actually popped. “Gor',
- Willie,” she gasped, “'aven't Hi told yer she's
- a lydy! Me kiss the lamb! Hi trusts, Mr. Geary, as ow I knows my plyce an'
- can keep it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, I know,” Billy soothed the frightened old woman, “but
- the trouble is Miss Dolores doesn't know hers—and something
- tells me if she does, she'll forget it. She'll take you in her
- arms and kiss you, sure as death and taxes.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And she did! “My lamb, my lamb,” sobbed Mother Jenks the next
- morning, and rested her old cheek, with its rum-begotten hue, close to the
- rose-tinted ivory cheek of her ward. “Me—wot I am—an'
- to think———”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You're a sweet old dear,” Dolores whispered, patting
- the gray head; “and I'm going to call you Mother.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mr. William H. Geary,” the girl remarked that night, “I
- know now why your friend Mr. Webster sent that cablegram. I think you're
- a scout, too.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0004" id="linkimage-0004"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0125.jpg" alt="0125 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0125.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- For reasons best known to himself Mr. Geary blushed furiously. “I—I'd
- better go and break the news to Mother,” he suggested inanely. She
- held out her hand; and Billy, having been long enough in Sobrante to have
- acquired the habit, bent his malarial person over that hand and kissed it.
- As he went out it occurred to him that had the lobby of the Hotel Mateo
- been paved with eggs, he must have floated over them like a Wraith, so
- light did he feel within.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER X
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>EBSTER reached New
- Orleans at the end of the first leg of his journey, to discover that in
- the matter of sailings he was not fortunate. He was one day late to board
- the <i>Atlanta</i>—a banana boat of the Consolidated Fruit Company's
- line plying regularly between New Orleans and that company's depots
- at Limon and San Buenaventura—which necessitated a wait of three
- days for the steamer <i>La Estrellita</i> of the Caribbean Mail Line,
- running to Caracas and way ports.
- </p>
- <p>
- This delay annoyed him, for he was the kind of man who, once he has made
- up his mind to embark upon a venture, is impatient to be up and doing.
- Accordingly, he decided to visit the ticket office of the Caribbean Mail
- Line immediately and avoid the rush in case the travel should be heavy—in
- which event a delay of an hour might be fatal—for should he be
- informed that the space on La Estrellita was entirely sold out, the
- knowledge would, he knew, set his reason tottering on its throne.
- </p>
- <p>
- The steamship office was in Canal Street. Webster arrived there during the
- luncheon hour, due to which fact he found but one clerk on duty at the
- ticket counter when he entered. This clerk was waiting on two well-dressed
- and palpably low-bred sons of the tropics, to whom he had just displayed a
- passenger list which the two were scanning critically. Their interest in
- it was so obvious that unconsciously Webster peeped over their shoulders
- (no difficult task for one of his stature) and discovered it to be the
- passenger list of the steamer La Estrellita. They were conversing together
- in low tones and Webster, who had spent many years of his life following
- his profession in Mexico, recognized their speech as the bastard Spanish
- of the peon.
- </p>
- <p>
- The clerk glanced up, caught Webster's eye and nodded to indicate
- that he would attend him directly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “No hurry, old timer,” Webster told him, with the bluff,
- free-and-easy democracy of the man of broad, unkenned horizons. “Just
- save a place on that passenger list for my John Hancock when our friends
- here have finished with it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He sat down in the long wall seat and waited until the pair, having
- completed their scrutiny of the list, turned to pass out. He glanced at
- them casually.
- </p>
- <p>
- Theirs were faces ordinary enough south of the Rio Grande but not likely
- to pass unnoticed in a northern crowd. One was a tall thin man whose
- bloodshot eyes were inclined to “pop” a little—infallible
- evidence in the Latin-American that he is drinking more hard liquor than
- is good for him. He was smooth-shaven, of pronounced Indian type, and wore
- considerable expensive jewellery.
- </p>
- <p>
- His companion was plainly of the same racial stock, although Webster
- suspected him of a slight admixture of negro blood. He was short, stocky,
- and aggressive looking; like his companion, bejewelled and possessed of a
- thin, carefully cultivated mous, tache that seemed to consist of about
- nineteen hairs on one side and twenty on the other. Evidently once upon a
- time, as the story books have it, he had been shot. Webster suspected a
- Mauser bullet, fired at long range. It had entered his right cheek, just
- below the malar, ranged downward through his mouth and out through a fold
- of flabby flesh under his left jowl. It must have been a frightful wound,
- but it had healed well except at the point of entrance, where it had a
- tendency to pucker considerably, thus drawing the man's eyelid down
- on his cheek and giving to that visual organ something of the appearance
- of a bulldog's.
- </p>
- <p>
- Both men observed Webster's swift but intense appraisal of them, and
- he of the puckered eye—perhaps because he was the cynosure of that
- scrutiny and morbidly sensitive of his facial disfigurement—replied
- with a cool, sullen stare that was almost belligerent.
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster gazed after them whimsically as he approached the counter.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'd hate to wake up some night and find that <i>hombre</i>
- with the puckered eye leaning over me. To what branch of the genus Greaser
- do those two horse-thieves belong?” he queried.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Central America, I take it,” the clerk answered. “They
- appear interested in the names of passengers bound for Caribbean ports.
- Looking for a friend, I suppose.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hardly. I speak their kind of Spanish and a peon doesn't
- refer to his friends in the free-and-easy language these fellows employed.
- By the way,” he continued, suddenly apprehensive, “do you get
- much of that paraqueet travel on your line?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “About 80 per cent, of it is off colour, sir.” Webster
- pondered the 80-per-cent, probability of being berthed in the same
- stateroom with one of these people and the prospect was as revolting to
- him as would be an uninvited negro guest at the dining table of a southern
- family. He had all a Westerner's hatred for the breed.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I want a ticket to San Buenaventura,” he informed the
- clerk, “but I don't relish the idea of a Greaser in the same
- stateroom with Me. I wonder if you couldn't manage to fix me up with
- a stateroom all to myself, or at least arrange it so that in the event of
- company I'll draw a white man. I can stand a slovenly white man
- where a clean peon would be unbearable, although—peon or Caballero—these
- people are apt to be tarred with the same stick. I don't care for
- any of them in mine.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm sorry, sir, but I cannot guarantee you absolute privacy
- nor any kind of white man. It's pretty mixed travel to all Central
- American ports.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “How many berths in your first-class staterooms?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Two.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster smiled brightly. He had found a way out of the difficulty. “I'll
- buy 'em both, son,” he announced.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I cannot sell you an entire stateroom, sir. It's against the
- orders of the company to sell two berths to one man. The travel is pretty
- brisk and it's hardly fair to the public, you know.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, suppose I buy one ticket for myself and the other for—well,
- for my valet, let us say. Of course,” he added brightly, “I
- haven't engaged the valet yet and even should I do so I wouldn't
- be at all surprised if the rascal missed the boat!”
- </p>
- <p>
- The clerk glanced at him with a slow smile, and pondered. “Well,”
- he said presently, “it's a poor rule that hasn't its
- exception, and when it comes to killing cats, strangulation with a
- butter-ball isn't the only method. If you care to buy a ticket for
- your valet, I'm sure I shouldn't worry whether or not he
- catches the boat. If my records show that the space is sold of two men and
- the purser collects two tickets, I think you'll be pretty safe from
- intrusion.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “To the harassed traveller,” said Mr. Webster, “a
- meeting with a gentleman of your penetration is as refreshing as a canteen
- of cool water in the desert. Shoot!” and he produced a handful of
- gold.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I will—provided I have one empty cabin,” and the clerk
- turned from the counter to consult his record of berths already sold and
- others reserved but not paid for. Presently he faced Webster at the
- counter.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The outlook is very blue,” he announced. “Every name on
- the passenger list has a preponderance of vowels in it. However, I have
- one berth in No. 34 reserved by a gentleman who was to call for it by two
- o'clock to-day.” He looked at his watch. “It is now a
- quarter of one. If the reservation isn't claimed promptly at two o'clock
- I shall cancel it and reserve for you both berths in that room. If you
- will be good enough to leave me your name and address I will telephone you
- after that hour. In the meantime, you may make reservation of the other
- berth in the same stateroom. I feel very confident that the reservation in
- No. 34 will not be called for, Mr.—er——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Webster—John S. Webster. You are very kind, indeed. I'm
- at the St. Charles.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Be there at a quarter after two, Mr. Webster, and you will hear
- from me promptly on the minute,” the clerk assured him; whereupon
- Webster paid for one berth and departed for his hotel with a feeling that
- the clerk's report would be favourable.
- </p>
- <p>
- True to his promise, at precisely a quarter after two, the ticket clerk
- telephoned Webster at his hotel that the berth in No. 34 had been
- cancelled and the entire stateroom was now at his disposal.
- </p>
- <p>
- “If you will be good enough to give me the name of your valet,”
- he concluded, “it will not be necessary for you to come down for
- your tickets, Mr. Webster. I will fill in both names on my passenger
- manifest and send the tickets to your hotel by messenger immediately. You
- can then sign the tickets—I have already signed them as witness—and
- pay the messenger.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I haven't engaged that valet as yet,” Webster
- began, but the other interrupted cheerfully: “What's the odds?
- He's going to miss the boat, anyhow. All I require is a name.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That ought to be a simple request to comply with. Let me see! If I
- had a valet I think I should want him to be called Andrew or Martin.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I read a book once, Mr. Webster, and the valet in that book was
- called Andrew Bowers.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Bowers is a fine old English name. Let us seek no further. Andrew
- Bowers it is.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thank you. All you have to do then is to remember to sign the name,
- Andrew Bowers, to one ticket. Don't forget your valet's name
- now, and ball everything up,” and the clerk hung up, laughing.
- </p>
- <p>
- Half an hour later a boy from the steamship office arrived with the
- tickets, collected for them, and departed, leaving John Stuart Webster
- singularly pleased with himself and at peace with the entire world.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XI
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span> “LARGE”
- dinner at Antoine's that night (Webster had heard of Antoine's
- dinners, both large and small and was resolved not to leave New Orleans
- until he had visited the famous restaurant) and a stroll through the
- picturesque old French quarter and along the levee next day, helped to
- render his enforced stay in New Orleans delightful, interesting, and
- instructive. Webster was one of those distinctful individual types to whom
- a chamber of horrors would be productive of more enjoyment than the usual
- round of “points of interest.” Experience had demonstrated to
- him that such points usually are uninteresting and wearing on the
- imagination, for the reason that the tourist trappers and proprietors of
- automobile 'buses, who map out the tours have no imagination
- themselves. Consequently, Webster preferred to prowl around quietly on
- little tours of discovery, personally conducted by himself. The search for
- obscure restaurants of unquestioned merit was with him almost a mania, and
- since in quaint New Orleans the food and drink specialist finds his
- highest heaven, no cloud marked the serenity of his delightful
- peregrinations.
- </p>
- <p>
- The next day would be Sunday, and Webster planned an early morning visit
- to the old French market, around which still lingers much of the
- picturesque charm and colourful romance of a day that is done—that
- echo of yesterday, as it were, which has left upon New Orleans an
- individuality as distinct as that which the olden, golden, godless days
- have left upon San Francisco.
- </p>
- <p>
- He rose before six o'clock, therefore; found a taxi, with the driver
- sound asleep inside, at the curb in front of the hotel; gave the latter
- his instructions, and climbed in.
- </p>
- <p>
- It being Sunday morning New Orleans slept late. Save for the few early
- morning worshippers hurrying to mass—mostly servants in a hurry to
- return to their kitchens and cook breakfast—the streets were
- deserted. The languorous air of dawn was redolent of the perfume of
- orange, rose, and sweet olive; from the four comers of the old town the
- mellow chimes of the Catholic church bells pealed their sweet, insistent
- call to the faithful; an atmosphere of subtle peace and sanctity pervaded
- the silent streets and awoke in John Stuart Webster's heart a vague
- nostalgia.
- </p>
- <p>
- Perhaps it was because so much of his life had been spent in lonely
- mountain or desert camps, or perhaps it was because this taxi ride through
- the pleasant southern dawn was so typical of the swift passing of the
- youth which had gone from him before he had had an opportunity to taste,
- even moderately, of its joys and allurements. He sighed—a little
- regretful sigh.
- </p>
- <p>
- “That's you, Johnny Webster,” he told himself, “breezing
- along through life like a tin-canned dog; f passing the sweet and the
- beautiful and battling with the harsh and unlovely; here to-day and gone
- to-morrow, a poor harried devil with your trunk on your back, a slave to
- the call of gold; restless, in a great hurry to get there and an equal
- hurry to leave for the new diggings, and all the time Life passes you by
- and you don't grab so much as a tail feather! On such a morn as this
- Eve entered the Garden of Eden, while I, consummate idiot, shut myself up
- in a taxi to watch a bill of expense run up on the clock, while sniffing
- myrrh and incense through this confounded window. I'll get out and
- walk!”
- </p>
- <p>
- He was opposite Jackson Square and the cloying sweetness of palmetto,
- palm, and fig burdened the air. Above the rumble of the taxi he could hear
- the distant babel of voices in the French market across the square, so he
- halted the taxicab, alighted, and handed the driver a bill.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I want to explore this square,” he said. He had recognized it
- by the heroic statue of General Jackson peeping through the trees. “I'll
- walk through the square Up the market, and you may proceed to the market
- and meet me there. Later we will return to the hotel.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The chauffeur nodded, and Webster, every fibre of his alert, healthy body
- once more tingling with the sheer joy of living, entered the square, found
- a path that wound its way through the shrubbery, and came out at length in
- the main pathway, close to the Jackson memorial statue.
- </p>
- <p>
- A Creole girl—starry-eyed, beautiful, rich with the glorious
- colouring of her race—passed him bound for the cathedral across the
- square, as Webster thought, for she carried a large prayer book on her
- arm. To Webster she seemed to fit perfectly into her surroundings, to lend
- to them the last, final touch of beauty, the apotheosis of peace, and
- again the nostalgic fever submerged the quiet joy with which he had
- approached his journey through the square. His glance followed the girl
- down the walk.
- </p>
- <p>
- Presently she halted. A young man rose from a bench where evidently he had
- been waiting for her, and bowed low, his hat clasped to his breast, as
- only a Frenchman or a Spanish grandee can bow. Webster saw the Creole girl
- turn to him with a little gesture of pleasure. She extended her hand and
- the young man kissed it with old-fashioned courtesy.
- </p>
- <p>
- John Stuart Webster knew now what was missing in his scheme of things, as
- with reverent and wistful eyes he watched their meeting.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Forty years old,” he thought, “and I haven't
- spoken to a dozen women that caused me a second thought, or who weren't
- postmistresses or biscuit shooters! Forty years old and I've never
- been in love! Spring time down that little path and Indian summer in my
- old fool heart. Why, I ought to be arrested for failure to live!”
- </p>
- <p>
- The lovers were walking slowly, arm in arm, back along the path by which
- the girl had come, so with a courtesy and gentleness that were innate in
- him, Webster stepped out of sight behind the statue of Old Hickory; for he
- did not desire, by his mere presence, to intrude a discordant note in the
- perfect harmony of those two human hearts. He knew they desired that
- sylvan path to themselves; that evidently they had sought their early
- morning tryst in the knowledge that the square was likely to be deserted
- at this hour. Therefore, to provoke selfconsciousness in them now savoured
- to John Stuart Webster of a high crime and misdemeanour, for which reason
- he was careful to keep General Jackson between himself and the lovers
- until they had gone by.
- </p>
- <p>
- The young man was speaking as they passed; his voice was rich, pleasant,
- vibrant with the earnestness of what he had to say: with a pretty little
- silver-mounted walking stick he slashed at spears of grass alongside the
- path; the girl was crying a little. Neither of them had seen him, so he
- entered a path that led from them at right angles.
- </p>
- <p>
- He had proceeded but a few feet along this trail when, through a break in
- the shrubbery ahead of him, he saw two men. They were crossing Webster's
- path and following a course paralleling that of the lovers in the broad
- main walk. Brief as was his glimpse of them, however, Webster instantly
- recognized the two Central Americans he had seen in the steamship ticket
- office two days previous.
- </p>
- <p>
- They were not walking as walk two men abroad at this hour for a
- constitutional. Neither did they walk as walk men churchward bound. A
- slight, skulking air marked their progress, and caused Webster to wonder
- idly what they were stalking.
- </p>
- <p>
- He turned into the path down which the two men had passed, not with the
- slightest idea of shadowing them, but because his destination lay in that
- direction. The Central Americans were approximately fifty yards in advance
- of him as he turned in their wake, and at sight of them his suspicion that
- they were stalking something was quickened into belief.
- </p>
- <p>
- Both men had forsaken the gravelled path and were walking on the soft
- velvet of blue grass lawn that fringed it!
- </p>
- <p>
- “Perhaps I'd better deaden my hoof beats also,” John
- Stuart Webster soliloquized, and followed suit immediately.
- </p>
- <p>
- He had scarcely done so when the men ahead of him paused abruptly. Webster
- did likewise, and responding—subconsciously, perhaps, to the
- remembrance of the menace in the glance of the man with the puckered eye—he
- stepped out of sight behind a broad oak tree. Through the trees and
- shrubbery he could still see the lovers, who had halted and evidently were
- about to part.
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster saw the young man glance warily about; then, apparently satisfied
- there was none to spy upon them, he drew the girl gently toward him. She
- clung to him for nearly a minute, sobbing; then he raised her face
- tenderly, kissed her, pressed her from him, and walked swiftly away
- without looking back.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was a sweet and rather touching little tableau; to John Stuart Webster,
- imaginative and possessed of a romantic streak in his nature, it was more
- than a tableau. It was a moving picture!
- </p>
- <p>
- “I suppose her old man objects to the young fellow,” he
- muttered to himself sympathetically, “and he can't come near
- the house. They've met here for the fond farewell, and now the young
- fellow's going out West to make his fortune, so he can come back and
- claim the girl. Huh! If he wants her, why the devil doesn't he take
- her? I'd tell her old man I'd picked on him for my
- father-in-law, and then if he didn't like me I'd let the old
- fellow rave; and see how much good it would do him. But the French are
- different; they always let the old folks step in and rock the boat——-
- Hello! By Judas priest! Now I know what those two paraqueets are up to.
- One of them is the father of that girl. They've been spying on the
- lovers, and now they're going to corner the young fellow and shingle
- him for his nerve.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The girl had stood for a moment, gazing after her companion, before she
- turned with her handkerchief to her eyes, and continued on her way to the
- cathedral. Webster had observed that the two men ahead of him paid no
- attention to her, but pressed eagerly forward after the man.
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster could look across about thirty yards of low shrubbery at the girl
- as she passed. He heard her sobbing as she stumbled blindly by, and he was
- distressed about her, for all the world loves a lover and John Stuart
- Webster was no exception to this universal rule.
- </p>
- <p>
- “By George, this is pretty tough,” he reflected. “That
- young fellow treated that girl with as much gentleness and courtesy as any
- gentleman should, and I'm for him and against this idea of corporal
- punishment. Don't you worry, Tillie, my dear. I'm going to
- horn into this game myself if it goes too far.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The two dusky skulkers ahead of him, having come to another crosspath,
- turned into it and came out on the main path in the rear of the young man.
- Webster noticed that they were walking twice as fast as when he had first
- observed them, and more than ever convinced that presently there might be
- work for a strong man and true, he hastened after them.
- </p>
- <p>
- As he came out into the main walk again, he noticed that the pair were
- still walking on the grass. He padded gently along behind them.
- </p>
- <p>
- The four were now rapidly approaching the old French market, and the
- steadily rising babel of voices speaking in French, Italian, Spanish,
- Creole patois and Choctaw, was sufficient to have drowned the slight noise
- of the pursuit, even had the young man's mind not been upon other
- things, and the interest of the two Central Americans centred upon their
- quarry, to the exclusion, of any thought of possible interruption.
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster felt instinctively that the two men would rush and make a
- concerted attack from the rear. He smiled.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'll just fool you two <i>hombres</i> a whole lot,” he
- thought, and stooping, picked up a small stone. On the instant the two
- men, having approached within thirty feet of their quarry, made a rush for
- him.
- </p>
- <p>
- Their charge was swift, but swift though it was, the little stone which
- John Stuart Webster hurled was swifter. It struck the young man fairly
- between the shoulderblades with a force sufficient to bring him out of his
- sentimental reverie with a jerk, as it were. He whirled, saw the danger
- that threatened him, and—sprang to meet it.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Bravo!” yelled Webster, and ran to his aid, for he had seen
- now that it was to be knife work. Tragedy instead of melodrama.
- </p>
- <p>
- The man with the puckered eye closed in with such eagerness it was
- apparent to Webster that here was work to his liking. The young man raised
- his light cane, but Pucker-eye did not hesitate. He merely threw up his
- left forearm to meet the expected blow aimed at his head, lunged forward
- and slashed viciously at the young man's abdomen. The latter drew
- back a step, doubled like a jack-knife, and brought his cane down
- viciously across the knuckles of his assailant's right hand.
- </p>
- <p>
- “So it is thou, son of a pig,” he called pleasantly in
- Spanish. “I fooled you that time, didn't I?” he added in
- English. “Thought I would aim for your head, didn't you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- The blow temporarily paralyzed the assassin's hand; he dropped the
- knife, and as he stooped to recover it with his left hand, the young man,
- before retreating from Pop-eye, kicked Pucker-eye in the face and quite
- upset him.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Stop it!” shouted Webster.
- </p>
- <p>
- Pop-eye turned his head at the outcry. The man he was attacking fell into
- the position of a swordsman en garde, and thrust viciously with the ferule
- at the face of the pop-eyed man, who, disregarding Webster's
- approach, seized the cane in his left hand and with a quick, powerful tug
- actually drew his victim toward him a foot before the latter let go the
- stick.
- </p>
- <p>
- Before he could give ground again Pop-eye was upon him. He grasped the
- young man by the latter's left arm and held him, while he drew back
- for the awful disembowelling stroke; as his long arm sped forward the hook
- of John Stuart Webster's heavy cane descended upon that flexed arm
- in the brook of the elbow, snagging it cleverly.
- </p>
- <p>
- The knife never reached its destination!
- </p>
- <p>
- “You would, would you?” said Webster reproachfully, and jerked
- the fellow violently around. The man he had rescued promptly struck
- Pop-eye a terrible blow in the face with his left hand and broke loose
- from the grip that had so nearly been his undoing; whereupon Webster
- tapped the assassin a meditative tap or two on the top of his sinful head
- for good measure and to awaken in him some sense of the impropriety and
- futility of resistance, after which Webster turned to discuss a similar
- question of ethics with Pucker-eye.
- </p>
- <p>
- The scar-cheeked man was on his knees, groping groggily for his knife, for
- he had received a severe kick under the chin, and for the nonce was far
- from dangerous. Stooping, Webster picked up the knife; then with knife and
- cane grasped in his left hand he seized Pucker-eye by the nape with his
- right and jerked him to his feet. The assassin stood glowering at him in a
- perfect frenzy of brutish, inarticulate fury.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Take the knife away from the other fellow before he gets active
- again,” Webster called over his shoulder. “I'll manage
- this rascal. We'll march them over to the market and turn them over
- to the police.” He spoke in Spanish.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thanks, ever so much, for my life,” the young man answered
- lightly, and in English, “but where I come from it is not the
- fashion to settle these arguments in a court of law. To call an officer is
- considered unclublike; to shoot a prisoner in this country is considered
- murder, and consequently I have but one alternative and I advise you, my
- good friend, to have a little of the same. I'm going to run like the
- devil.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And he did. He was in full flight before Webster could glance around, and
- in an instant he was lost to sight among the trees.
- </p>
- <p>
- “That advice sounds eminently fair and reasonable,” Webster
- yelled after him, and was about to follow when he observed that the young
- man had abandoned his pretty little silver-chased walking stick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “That's too nice a little stick to leave to these brigands,”
- he thought, and forthwith possessed himself of it and the pop-eyed man's
- knife, after which he tarried not upon the order of his going but went,
- departing at top speed.
- </p>
- <p>
- The young man he had saved from being butchered was right. An entangling
- alliance with the police was, decidedly, not to John Stuart Webster's
- liking, for should, he, unfortunately, form such an alliance, he would be
- haled into court as a witness and perhaps miss the steamer to San
- Buenaventura.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Drat it,” he soliloquized, as he emerged from the square and
- observed his taxi parked at the entrance to the market, “I came
- through that square so fast I haven't the slightest idea what the
- last half of it looks like. That's what I get for mixing in a little
- Donnybrook that's none of my business.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He had planned to spend an hour in the market, drink a cup of <i>café noir</i>,
- smoke a cigarette, and return to his hotel in time for a leisurely
- breakfast, but his recent bout with grim reality had blunted the edge of
- romance. He ordered his driver to take him back to the hotel, sprang
- inside and congratulated himself on his lucky escape.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XII
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>EBSTER'S
- trunk went aboard the steamer early the following morning, and at noon he
- entered a taxi with his hand baggage and was driven to the levee where <i>La
- Estrellita</i> lay tugging gently at her mooring lines. Owing to the
- congestion of freight and traffic the chauffeur stopped his cab a little
- distance from the gangplank, where Webster discharged him with a liberal
- tip.
- </p>
- <p>
- The latter, however, swung his passenger's bag and suitcase to the
- ground, picked them up and started for the gangplank.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Never mind my baggage, lad,” Webster called after him.
- “One of the deck boys will care for it.” The chauffeur turned.
- “You've been very generous with me, sir,” he answered,
- “so I think I had better carry your baggage aboard. If you permit a
- deck boy to handle it, you merely have to give another tip, and that would
- be sheer wanton waste. Why shouldn't I earn the one you gave me?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I hadn't figured it out that way, son, so here's
- another half dollar for being the only existing specimen of your species
- in captivity. My stateroom is No. 34, upper deck, port side,”
- Webster answered, smiling. The man took the tip eagerly and hurried toward
- the gangplank; the quartermaster on duty shouldered a way for him and he
- darted aboard?
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster followed leisurely. At the gangplank the purser's clerk
- halted him, examined his tickets and punched them.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Where is the other man?” he asked. “You have two
- tickets here.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, that blamed valet of mine,” Webster answered, and glanced
- around as if in search of that mythical functionary. “It would be
- like the stupid fellow to miss the boat,” he added. “When he
- comes——”
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster ceased speaking abruptly. He was looking straight into the
- malevolent orbs of Pucker-eye, who was standing just behind the clerk at
- the foot of the gangplank.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I wonder if Popeye's around, also,” Webster thought,
- and he faced about. Pop-eye was standing in back of him, leaning over the
- railing of the gangway.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Which is the valet?” the purser's clerk asked, scanning
- the names on the tickets.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Andrew Bowers.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right, Mr. Webster,” the other answered, with that genial
- camaraderie that seems inseparable from all of his calling. “When
- Andrew comes I'll send him aboard.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He started to pass the tickets back to Webster, but a detaining hand
- rested on his arm, while a dark thumb and forefinger lifted the trailing
- strips of tickets. Pucker-eye was examining them also.
- </p>
- <p>
- He sent his elbow backward violently into Pucker-eye's midriff and
- shook him off roughly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What do you mean, you black-and-tan hound?” he demanded.
- “Since when did you begin to O. K. my work?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Pucker-eye made no reply to this stern reproof. He accepted the elbow with
- equanimity, and faced Webster with an evil smile that indicated mutual
- recognition.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Bueno,” he said, with such genuine satisfaction that Webster
- could not help demanding:
- </p>
- <p>
- “<i>Por que es bueno?</i> (Why is it good?)”
- </p>
- <p>
- “We meet the senor first in the teeket office. We meet the senor
- again yesterday morning, no? After, we remember we have meet the senor in
- the teeket office! <i>Quien sabe?</i> The senor he ees sail on <i>La
- Estrellita</i> for San Buenaventura, no?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “So you came nosing around to see about it, eh? Doing a little plain
- gumshoe work, I see.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Pucker-eye bowed. By the simple exercise of courage and bad manners he had
- looked at John Stuart Webster's ticket and was now familiar with his
- name and destination.
- </p>
- <p>
- The object of this solicitude had little difficulty in guessing the reason
- behind it all, and he was not happy. He would have preferred that the
- incident of their former meeting should not be held against him; he wished
- most devoutedly that his part in the ruction in Jackson Square on Sunday
- morning might have been forgotten by all concerned, and this revival of
- the unpleasant episode was slightly disconcerting.
- </p>
- <p>
- As a usual thing he was loth to interject himself in the affairs of other
- people, and had a deep-seated animosity against those who did; he would
- have preferred to round out his existence without having to take into
- consideration the presence of a twin Nemesis. However, since the fat was
- in the fire, so to speak, Webster felt that there was nothing for him to
- do save brazen things out as best he could, so he glowered darkly at
- Pucker-eye and said:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, you scoundrelly cutthroat, what are you going to do about it?
- Try a little of your knife work on me, I suppose?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Pucker-eye did not answer, but his beady glance wavered and shifted before
- the cool, contemptuous menace of Webster's blue eyes.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Listen, <i>hombre</i>,” Webster continued. “I know your
- kind of people like a nigger knows cologne. I know what you'd like
- to do to me in exchange for what I did to you yesterday morning, but you
- take a tip from me and don't try it, or one of these days they'll
- be walking slow behind you and your <i>companero</i>, and you won't
- know it!”
- </p>
- <p>
- The fellow grinned—the kind of grin that is composed of equal parts
- of ferocity and knowledge of superior strength. That grin did more to
- disconcert Webster than the knowledge that he had earned for himself two
- bloodthirsty and implacable enemies, for Pucker-eye was the first of his
- breed that Webster had ever seen smile under insult. That cool smile
- infuriated him.
- </p>
- <p>
- Pucker-eye took out a cigarette case, selected a cigarette, and presented
- the case to Webster. His bad manners in selecting his own cigarette first
- was deliberate, as Webster knew. It was the Latin-American's method
- of showing his contempt.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We shall meet again, Meester Webstaire,” he said. “May
- I offer the senor a cigarette for the—what you Americans call—the
- keepsake? No?” He smiled brightly and closed his puckered eye in a
- knowing wink.
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster took his tickets from the purser, folded them, placed them in his
- pocket and for a few seconds regarded Pucker-eye contemptuously.
- </p>
- <p>
- “When we meet again, you scum,” he retorted quietly, “you
- shall have no difficulty in remembering me. You may keep your cigarette.”
- </p>
- <p>
- His long, powerful right arm shot out; like a forceps his thumb and
- forefinger closed over Pucker-eve's rather flat nose; he squeezed,
- and with a shrill scream of agony Pucker-eye went to his knees.
- </p>
- <p>
- Still holding the wretch by his proboscis, Webster turned quickly in order
- that his face might be toward Pop-eye.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Pop-eye,” he said, “if you take a hand in this, I'll
- twist your nose, too, and afterward I'll throw you in the river.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He turned to Pucker-eye.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Up, thou curious little one,” he said in Spanish, and jerked
- the unhappy rascal to his feet. The latter clawed ineffectually at the
- terrible arm which held him, until, presently discovering that the harder
- he struggled the harder Webster pinched his nose, he ceased his struggles
- and hung limply, moaning with pain and rage in the grip of the American.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good!” Webster announced, slacking his grip a little. With
- his left hand he deftly extracted a hair from each flank of the screaming
- little scoundrel's scant moustache, and held them before the latter's
- tear-filled eyes.
- </p>
- <p>
- “My friend,” he said gently, “mark how the gringo gives
- his little dark brother a lesson in deportment. Behold, if I have given
- thee a souvenir of our meeting, I also have taken one. By this pinched and
- throbbing nose shall I be remembered when I am gone; by these hairs from
- thy rat's moustache shall I remember thee. Go, and thrust not that
- nose into a gringo's business again. It is unsafe.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He released Pucker-eye, nodded brightly to the purser's clerk and
- quartermaster, who, spellbound and approving, had watched him mete out
- retribution according to his code, and went aboard, just as an assistant
- steward came hurrying along the deck beating a lusty solo on a triangle—the
- signal for all non-passengers to go ashore.
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster made his way through the crowd to his room, looked in, saw that
- his baggage was there, and walked around on the starboard side to join in
- the general farewell of all on board to the crowd on the levee.
- </p>
- <p>
- At the shore end of the gangplank Pucker-eye and Pop-eye still waited. The
- unfortunate Pucker-eye was weeping with pain and futile rage and
- humiliation, but Webster noticed that Pop-eye's attention was not on
- his friend but upon each passenger that boarded the ship, of which there
- were the usual number of late arrivals. As each passenger approached,
- Pop-eye scanned him with more than casual interest.
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster smiled. “Looking for that valet they heard me talking about,”
- he reflected. “Pop-eye, you're a fine, capable lad. I thought
- you had the brains of the two. You're not going away until you've
- had a chance to size up the reinforcements at my command, are you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Promptly at one o'clock the captain mounted the bridge and ordered
- the gangplank drawn ashore. The breastline was cast off; with a long-drawn
- bellow from her siren the wheel of <i>La Estrellita</i> commenced to churn
- the muddy water and her bow swung gently outboard, while the stern line
- acted as a spring. With the stern line slackened and cast overboard the
- vessel pushed slowly out into the stream where the current caught her and
- swung her in a wide arc. Webster watched Pucker-eye and Pop-eye leave the
- landing arm in arm. Pop-eye was sporty enough to wave at him, and Webster,
- not to be outdone in kind, waved back.
- </p>
- <p>
- He lighted a cigar and leaned over the rail as the steamer, gathering
- speed, swept down river.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good-bye, you golden fizz and chicken gumbo,” he called, as
- the city receded and the low, wooded shores below the city came into view.
- He had forgotten Pucker-eye and Pop-eye in the flood of poignant regret
- that swept over him at the memory of the peerless Antoine!
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XIII
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>HEN he had
- finished his cigar he cast the stump overboard, watched it until it
- disappeared astern, and then went around to state-room No. 34. As he
- stepped in, and closed the door a masculine voice said very pleasantly:
- </p>
- <p>
- “How do you do?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Webster looked up and beheld a young man, arrayed in a very fancy pair
- of light blue silk pyjamas, stretched at his ease in the upper berth. In
- his right hand he held an open book; his left hand grasped his bare right
- foot, which he was rubbing comfortably; in his mouth he held an aromatic
- Turkish cigarette. He was very much at home, no doubt of that, for he was
- smiling in the friendliest fashion imaginable.
- </p>
- <p>
- John Stuart Webster stared at the stranger for several seconds and
- concluded he was invading the sanctity of another's stateroom.
- “Excuse me,” he said, “I guess I'm in the right
- church but the wrong pew,” and he stepped out and looked for the
- number on the stateroom. To his surprise it <i>was</i> No. 34 after all,
- so he stepped back into the stateroom and favoured the stranger with
- another scrutiny.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It does appear to me, my friend,” he said presently, “that
- I detect something strangely familiar about your pyjamas.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I wouldn't be the least bit surprised, Mr. Webster. I found
- them in your suitcase.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, how do you do?” Webster declared. “Pretty well,
- all things considered. May I offer you one of your own cigarettes? I found
- them in the suitcase also, and can recommend them highly.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thank you very much.” Webster helped himself to a cigarette
- and sat down on the settee. Fell a silence of perhaps half a minute. Then:
- </p>
- <p>
- “I dislike to appear inquisitive,” Webster began, “but
- the fact is, neighbour, I'm curious to know where you got that book.
- I observe you are reading Samuel Butler's 'Way of all Flesh,'
- and that the book is slightly damaged. Recently I purchased such a book in——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Pray do not take the trouble to explain,” the other answered
- airily. “I discovered this excellent book in your suitcase also. In
- fact, for me, that suitcase has proved to be a repository of treasures.”
- John Stuart Webster's neck came out of his collar with the
- suddenness of a turtle snapping at a fly; he drew himself up beside the
- top berth until his face was on a level with his unbidden guest's,
- upon whom he bent a look of mingled emotions. On his part the stranger
- returned his gaze with grave interest, and when the silence threatened to
- become embarrassing he said:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Will you have the goodness to press that button? I think we should
- drink a bumper to our better acquaintance and I have no doubt but that the
- barkeeper on this packet can manufacture a golden fizz. Do you care for
- the famous New Orleans golden fizz?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It is a wonderful institution,” Webster replied, “and I'll
- have one. I need it to sustain me, for I am faint with amazement.”
- He pressed the button. “'While the golden fizz is fizzing,”
- he continued, “suppose you let me have a look at your ticket.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ticket?” echoed his visitor. “I haven't any
- ticket. A kind gentleman bought one for me and has it in his possession.
- Do you, sir, by any chance, happen to be that philanthropic individual?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I'll be——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hush!” the stranger warned, raising an admonitory finger.
- “No profanity, please. I have been tenderly reared and cuss words
- will only shock me and clog the atmosphere. I'm here to do you and
- do you a delicate brown, so bear up, kind sir, and take your walloping
- like a sport.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Who the devil are you?” John Stuart Webster demanded.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I regret I have no card, but even if I had it would be no kindness
- to inflict upon an American gentleman the cognomen my parents honoured me
- with, for it is long and many-jointed, like a peanut, and embodies the
- names of all the saints in the calendar. Moreover, just at present I am
- travelling under an alias. I am known as Mr. Andrew Bowers.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And your occupation?” Webster managed to articulate.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Valet de chambre to that prince of gentlemen, Mr. John S. Webster,”
- the other replied with a mischievous gleam in his dark eyes.
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Webster sat down limply on the settee. He was undecided whether to
- roar with laughter or shriek with rage; while he struggled for a decision
- Andrew Bowers blew smoke rings at the ceiling.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Haven't I seen you before?” Webster queried presently.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I wouldn't be surprised. I drove you down to the steamer in a
- taxi half an hour ago. You will recall that the taxi driver carried your
- luggage aboard.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster gazed around the stateroom. “Where have you hidden your
- livery?” he demanded.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I wrapped it in a newspaper; then, seeking a moment when the deck
- outside was deserted, I stepped forth in my—I beg your pardon, your—pyjamas
- and tossed it overboard.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But apparently you did not bring aboard with you a suit of clothes
- to take the place of your livery?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Quite true—lamentably so, Mr. Webster. Perhaps you will
- accept my desperate need as an excuse for borrowing your pyjamas. I notice
- you have another suit of them. Fortunate man!”
- </p>
- <p>
- When confronted by something mysterious it was not John Stuart's
- habit to ask innumerable questions, and for the space of two minutes he
- gave himself up to deduction and a close scrutiny of his companion.
- </p>
- <p>
- Andrew Bowers was a man of perhaps thirty years, five feet ten inches
- tall, and apparently in excellent health. He might have weighed a hundred
- and seventy pounds and he was undeniably handsome. His head was nobly
- formed and covered with thick, wavy hair, shiny and black as ebony; his
- eyes were dark blue; the eyebrows, thick but fine and silky, almost met
- over the bridge of a thin, high nose that was just a trifle too long for
- his face. Webster decided it was the nose of a thinker. Andrew Bowers's
- forehead was broad and high and his head was thick forward of the ears,
- infallible sign of brains; his mouth and chin were full of determination,
- although capable of a smile of singular sweetness; while the skin on his
- legs was milk-white, his hands and face were tanned to the colour of a
- manzanita stick, seeming to indicate that he had lived an outdoor life.
- </p>
- <p>
- While Webster was wondering whether his companion was merely a high-class
- tramp or an absconding bank cashier, a knock sounded on the stateroom
- door. He opened it and the purser stood in the entrance.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Tickets, please?” he announced.
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster surrendered both tickets, receiving in turn two seat checks for
- the dining saloon, and the purser passed on to the next cabin.
- </p>
- <p>
- Andrew Bowers smiled a small, prescient smile, but said nothing and
- presently John Stuart Webster broke the silence. “Well,” he
- ordered “sing the song or tell the story.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I noticed you surrendered my ticket to the purser,” the young
- man answered irrelevantly, “and I am glad of that. I take it as <i>prima
- facie</i> evidence that you have made up your mind to accept my company.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You're too infernally cool and cocksure, my friend,”
- Webster warned him testily. “I pride myself on a sense of humour and
- I dearly love a joke until it's carried too far, but be advised in
- time, young man, and don't try to play horse with me. I haven't
- made up my mind to accept your company, although, provided you do not rub
- my fur the wrong way, I may decide to put up with you, for whether you are
- a decayed gentleman or an engaging scoundrel, you are, at least,
- intelligent and impressive, clean, white, resourceful, and pleasant.
- However, my acceptance or non-acceptance of you is a subject for future
- discussion, since at present we have some fiduciary matters before us. You
- owe me fifty dollars for your ticket, Andrew Bowers, and in view of the
- fact that I never saw you before to-day, suppose we start the voyage by
- squaring the account.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Andrew Bowers sat up in the berth and let his legs drape over the side.
- “Mr. Webster,” he began seriously, “had I sung my song
- or told my story before you surrendered that ticket to the purser I might
- have found myself in a most embarrassing predicament. If, prior to the
- arrival of the purser to collect the tickets, you had handed my ticket to
- me, saying: 'Here is your ticket, Mr. Bowers. Be kind enough to
- reimburse me to the extent of fifty dollars,' I should have been
- compelled to admit then, as I do now, that I haven't fifty dollars.
- Fortunately for me, however, you surrendered the ticket to the purser
- before acquainting yourself with the state of my fortunes; the voyage has
- commenced and whether you like it or not, my dear sir, I am your guest
- from now until we reach San Buenaventura. Rather an interesting situation,
- don't you think?”
- </p>
- <p>
- John Stuart Webster was of Scotch ancestry. He had an hereditary regard
- for his baubees. He was a business man. Prodigal spender though he was and
- generous to a fault, the fact remained that he always made it a point to
- get value received, and he was prodigal with his own money; he preferred
- that the privilege of prodigality with the Websterian funds should remain
- an inalienable prerogative of the sole surviving member of the Webster
- family. He gazed contemplatively now upon his devil-may-care, unbidden
- guest, torn between a desire to whisk him out of the berth and shake him
- until his teeth fell out, and another to be just and patient, in the hope
- that some great extenuating circumstance might be adduced to account for
- this impudent daylight robbery. Mr. Webster had been deluded, cheated,
- robbed, and pillaged many a time and oft in the course of his rather
- eventful career, but he had yet to meet the man who, having swindled him
- out of fifty dollars, had the effrontery to add insult to injury by
- exhibiting a perfectly obvious intention of making him like it. Indeed,
- John Stuart Webster was obsessed with a secret fear that the smiling
- bandit in the upper berth was going to succeed in his nefarious design,
- and, in the contemplation of this unheard-of <i>contretemps</i>, the
- genial John was struck temporarily speechless.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The last cent I had in the world went to that taxi person whose
- taxi I borrowed and whose old uniform I purchased,” Andrew Bowers
- supplemented his confession.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You asked me to ring for two golden fizzes,” Webster
- reproached him. “Am I to be stuck for the drinks? Not satisfied with
- rooking me for a first-class passage to San Buenaventura you plan to tack
- on extras, eh?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, I'll pay for the drinks,” Andrew Bowers assured
- him.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How can you, if you gave your last cent to that taxi driver?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You tipped me very liberally for carrying your baggage aboard,”
- Andrew Bowers retorted slyly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ouch!” cried Mr. Webster, and laughed. The very next instant
- he was provoked at himself for having done so. That laugh gave the brigand
- Andrew a decided advantage, for it placed Webster on defensive ground. He
- was convinced of this when the brigand said:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thanks for that laugh, Mr. Webster. It arouses hope in my sad
- heart. I have outraged your patience, your privacy, and your pocketbook—yet
- you laughed. <i>Bueno</i>. I will be equally good-natured and forgive you
- for questioning my sincerity in the matter of dispensing my hospitality;
- even the little slur cast on my veracity in the matter of my finances
- shall pass unnoticed.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I think you're too cool, young man,” Webster retorted.
- “Just a trifle too cocksure. Up to the present moment you have
- proffered no evidence why you should not be adjudged a cad, and I do not
- like cads and must decline to permit one to occupy the same stateroom at
- my expense. You are clever and amusing and I laughed at you, but at the
- same time my sense of humour is not so great as to cause me to overlook
- your impudence and laugh with you. Now, if you have anything to say, say
- it quickly, because you're going to go away from here—in a
- hurry.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I plead guilty to the indictment, Mr. Webster, and submit as an
- excuse the fact that desperate circumstances require desperate measures. I
- am not begging my way, neither am I beating it, for the reason that both
- forms of travel are repugnant to me. I am merely taking advantage of
- certain fortuitous circumstances to force you, an entire stranger, to
- extend to me a credit of fifty dollars until we reach San Buenaventura
- when you will be promptly reimbursed. I had thought,” he added
- sadly, “that my face might prove ample security for a fifty-dollar
- loan. There has never been a crook in my family and I have never been
- charged with a penal offence or been in jail.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It is not my habit,” Webster retorted stiffly, “to
- extend credit to strangers who demand it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I do not demand it, sir. I beg it of you, and because I cannot
- afford to be refused I took care to arrange matters so that you would not
- be likely to refuse my request. Really, I do not mean to be cocksure and
- impudent, but before you throw me out I'd like to let you in on a
- secret about yourself.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You're not going to throw me out.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why not?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Because you can't.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That's fighting talk. Now, just to prove to you the depth of
- error in which you flounder, young man, I am about to throw you out.”
- And he grasped Andrew Bowers in the grip of a grizzly bear and whisked him
- out of the top berth.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Wait one second,” his helpless victim cried. “I have
- something to say before you go any further.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Say it,” Webster ordered. “Your tongue is the only part
- of you that I cannot control.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “When you throw me out on deck,” Andrew Bowers queried,
- “do your pyjamas go with me? Does the hair go with the hide?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “They cost me sixteen dollars in Salt Lake City, but—good
- lord, yes. I can't throw you out mother naked; damn it, I can't
- throw you out at all.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Didn't I tell you so? Be a good fellow and turn me loose.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Certainly—for the time being. You'll stay locked in
- this stateroom while I have a talk with the captain. He'll probably
- dig up a shirt, a pair of dungarees, and some old shoes for you and set
- you ashore before we get out of the river. If he doesn't do that he'll
- keep you aboard and you'll shovel coal for your passage.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But I'm Andrew Bowers and the purser has collected my
- first-class ticket!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What of it? I shall declare—and with truth—that you are
- not Andrew Bowers, that you are not my valet, and that I did not buy the
- ticket for you. I dare you to face the captain in my pyjamas and prove you
- aren't a stowaway.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You would win on that point,” the baffling guest admitted,
- “but it is a point you will not raise. Why? Because I have another
- trump up my kimono.” He climbed back into the upper berth and from
- that vantage point gazed down benevolently upon John Stuart Webster.
- “I'm disappointed in you,” he continued sadly. “I
- thought you'd show a little normal human curiosity about me—and
- you haven't. You do not ask questions or I could explain, while I
- cannot volunteer information without seeming to seek your pity, and that
- course would be repugnant to me. I have never shovelled coal, although I
- daresay I could manage to earn my passage as a stoker; indeed, I daresay I
- shall have to, if you insist on being belligerent, and if you insist I
- shall not oppose you. I am hoping, however, that you will not insist, but
- that you will, on the contrary, accept my word of honour that you shall be
- reimbursed two hours after you land in San Buenaventura.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “New music to your song, my friend, but the same old words,”
- Webster retorted, and stepped to the stateroom door. “You're
- doomed to shovel coal or go ashore.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Listen. If I go ashore, your responsibility for my life ceases, Mr.
- Webster, but if the chief engineer happens to be short one coal-passer and
- the captain sends me down to the stokehole, your responsibility for my
- death begins, for I'll be put ashore publicly at San Buenaventura
- and two hours later I'll be facing a firing squad in the cemetery of
- the Catedrâl de la Vera Cruz.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Gosh,” John Stuart Webster murmured dazedly, “I'm
- afraid I can't take a chance like that for fifty dollars.”
- </p>
- <p>
- A knock sounded on the door and Webster opened it. A waiter stood in the
- entrance. “Did you ring, sir?” he queried.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I did,” replied John Stuart Webster. “Bring up two
- glasses and a quart of the best wine aboard the ship.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The waiter hastened away and Webster turned to face the little, cryptic,
- humorous smile that made his travelling companion so singularly boyish and
- attractive.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You win, son,” Webster declared. “I'm whipped to
- a frazzle. Any time I'm sitting in back of a royal flush and the
- other fellow bluffs me out of the pot, I always buy the wine. When it
- arrives we shall drink to our better acquaintance. Pending its arrival,
- please be advised that you are welcome to my pyjamas, my cigarettes, my
- book, and my stateroom. You are my guest and you owe me nothing, except,
- perhaps, your confidence, although I do not insist upon that point. Where
- I come from every man kills his own snakes.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And he held up his hand for Andrew Bowers to shake.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mr. Webster,” the latter declared feelingly, “I am not
- a lord of language, so I cannot find words to thank you. I agree with you
- that you are entitled to my confidence. My name is——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Tut, tut, my boy. Your name is Andrew Bowers, and that identifies
- you sufficiently for the time being. Your face is a guaranty of your
- character and entitles you to a nominal credit.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Make me no buts. I care not who you are; perhaps what I do not know
- will not distress me. When I suggested that I was entitled to a measure of
- your confidence, I meant on a few minor points only—points on which
- my curiosity has been abnormally aroused.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Very well, my friend. Fire away.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Are you an American citizen?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, I am a citizen of Sobrante.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You have assured me that you are not a crook; consequently I know
- you are not fleeing from the United States authorities. You had no money
- to pay for your passage to San Buenaventura so you schemed to make me pay
- your way. Hence I take it that your presence in the capital of your native
- country is a matter of extreme importance and that the clerk in the ticket
- office of the Caribbean Mail Line is a friend of yours.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Quite true. He knew my need.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You were under surveillance and could not leave New Orleans for San
- Buenaventura unless you left secretly. When I purchased both berths in
- this stateroom and the ticket clerk knew I held a firstclass ticket for a
- valet that was not, he decided to saw off on me a valet that was. So he
- gave you my name and the name of my hotel, you arranged matters with the
- taxi starter and the taxi driver and drove me to the steamer. Disguised in
- the livery of a chauffeur and carrying hand baggage you hoped to get
- aboard without being detected by your enemies who watched the gangplank.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Andrew Bowers nodded.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Do you think you succeeded?” Webster continued.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I do not know, Mr. Webster. I hope so. If I did not—well, the
- instant this steamer drops anchor in the roadstead at San Buenaventura,
- she will be boarded and searched by the military police, I will be
- discovered and——” He shrugged.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Lawn party in the cemetery, eh?” Webster suggested.
- </p>
- <p>
- Andrew Bowers reached under his pillow and produced two heavy automatic
- pistols and a leathern box containing five clips of cartridges. These he
- exhibited in silence and then thrust them back under the pillow.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I see, Andrew. In case you're cornered, eh? Well, I think I
- would prefer to die fighting myself. However, let us hope you will not
- have to face any such unpleasant alternative.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm not worried, Mr. Webster. Somehow, I think I ran the
- gauntlet safely.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But why did you throw your livery overboard?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It was of no further use to me. A chauffeur on shipboard would be
- most incongruous, and the sight of the livery hanging on yonder peg would
- be certain to arouse the curiosity of the room steward. And I'm not
- going to appear on deck throughout the voyage, might meet somebody who
- knows me.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But you'll have to have some clothes in which to go ashore,
- you amazing man.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not at all. The steamer will arrive in the harbour of San
- Buenaventura late in the afternoon—too late to be given pratique
- that day. After dark I shall drop overboard and endeavour to swim ashore,
- and in view of that plan clothes would only prove an embarrassment. I
- shall land in my own country naked and penniless, but once ashore I shall
- quickly find shelter. I'll have to risk the sharks, of course.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Man-eaters?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “The bay is swarming with them.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You're breaking my heart,” Webster declared
- sympathetically. “I suppose you're going to feign illness
- throughout the voyage.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not the land of illness that will interfere with my appetite. I
- have prescribed for myself a mild attack of inflammatory rheumatism, as an
- excuse for remaining in bed and having my meals brought to me. This
- service, of course, will necessitate some slight expense in the way of
- tips, but I am hoping you will see your way clear to taking care of that
- for your guest.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Silently Webster handed Andrew Bowers ten dollars in silver. “That
- ought to hold you,” he declared. “For the rest, you're
- up to some political skullduggery in Sobrante, and what it is and what's
- your real name are two subjects in which I am not interested. I am on a
- vacation and intend to amuse myself. If I find you as amusing as you
- appear at the outset of our acquaintance I shall do my best to break the
- tedium of your confinement in this stateroom and if I find you dull I
- shall leave you to your own devices. Let us talk anything but business and
- personalities and let it be understood that you are my valet, Andrew
- Bowers. That's all I know about you and that's all I care to
- know about you. In fact, the less I know about you the less will I have to
- explain in the event of your sudden demise.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Fair enough,” quoth Andrew Bowers. “You're a man
- after my own heart. I thank you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XIV
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">P</span>RIOR to leaving
- New Orleans, Webster had cabled Billy Geary that he was taking passage on
- <i>La Estrellita</i> and stating the approximate date of his arrival at
- San Buenaventura—which information descended upon that young man
- with something of the charm of a gentle rainfall over a hitherto arid
- district. He had been seeing Dolores Ruey at least once a day ever since
- her return to Sobrante; indeed, only the fear that he might wear out his
- welcome prevented him from seeing her twice a day. He was quick,
- therefore, to seize upon Webster's cablegram as an excuse to call
- upon Dolores and explain the mystery surrounding his friend's
- nonappearance.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, Dolores,” he began, in his excitement calling her by
- her first name for the first time, “they say it's a long lane
- that hasn't got a saloon at the end of it. I've heard from
- Jack Webster.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What's the news, Bill?” Dolores inquired. From the
- first day of their acquaintance she had been growing increasingly fond of
- Geary; for nearly a week she had been desirous of calling him Bill, which
- is a comfortable name and, to Dolores's way of thinking, a
- peculiarly appropriate cognomen for such a distinctly American young man.
- At mention of the beloved word he glanced down at her pleasurably.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thank you,” he said. “I'm glad you got around to
- it finally. Those that love me always call me Bill.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You called me Dolores.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I move we make it unanimous. I'm a foe to formality.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Second the motion, Bill. So am I—when I care to be—and
- in our case your formality is spoiling our comradeship. And now, with
- reference to the extraordinary Senor Webster——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, the poor old horse has been down with ptomaine poisoning. They
- carried him off the train at St. Louis and stood him on his head and
- pumped him out and just did manage to cancel his order for a new
- tombstone. He says he's feeding regularly again and has booked
- passage on <i>La Estrellita</i>, so we can look for him on the next
- steamer arriving.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, the poor fellow!” Dolores murmured—so fervently
- that Billy was on the point of hurling his heart at her feet on the
- instant.
- </p>
- <p>
- The thousand dollars Webster had cabled Billy “for a road-stake”
- had been dwindling rapidly under the stimulus of one continous opportunity
- to spend the same in a quarter where it was calculated to bring the most
- joy. The pleasures of the Sobrantean capital were not such that the
- average Yankee citizen might be inspired to prefer them with any degree of
- enthusiasm, but such as they were, Dolores Ruey had them all. In a country
- where the line between pure blood and mixed is drawn so strictly as it is
- in Sobrante, Billy Geary was, of course, a social impossibility. He was a
- Caucasian who would shake hands and have a drink with a gentleman whose
- nails showed blue at the bases, for all his white skin—and in the
- limited upper-class circles of Buenaventura, where none but pure-bred
- descendants of purebred Castilians intermingled, the man or woman who
- failed, however slightly, to remember at all times that he was white, was
- distinctly <i>persona non grata</i>.
- </p>
- <p>
- The first time Billy appeared in public riding in the same victoria with
- Mother Jenks and Dolores, therefore, he was fully aware that for the
- future Dolores Ruey was like himself, socially defunct in Sobrante.
- However, he did not care, for he had a sneaking suspicion Dolores was as
- indifferent as he; in fact, he took a savage delight in the knowledge that
- the girl would be proscribed, for with Dolores cut off from all other
- society she must, of necessity, turn to him throughout her visit. So, up
- to the night <i>La Estrellita</i>, with John Stuart Webster on board,
- dropped anchor on the quarantine-ground, Mr. Geary was the unflagging
- ballyhoo for a personally conducted tour of Dolores Ruey's native
- land within a radius of fifteen miles about Buenaventura. He was
- absolutely bogged in the quagmire of his first love affair, but until his
- mining concession should amply justify an avowal of his passion, an
- instinctive sense of the eternal fitness of things reminded Billy of the
- old proverb that a closed mouth catches no flies. And in the meantime
- (such is the optimism of youth) he decided there was no need for worry,
- for when a girl calls a fellow Bill, when she tells him he's a scout
- and doesn't care a whoop for any society except his—<i>caramba!</i>
- it's great!
- </p>
- <p>
- A wireless from Webster warned Billy of the former's imminent
- arrival. Just before sunset Billy and Dolores, riding along the Malecon,
- sighted a blur of smoke far out to sea—a blur that grew and grew
- until they could make out the graceful white hull of <i>La Estrellita</i>,
- before the swift tropic night descended and the lights of the great vessel
- shimmered across the harbour.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Too late to clear quarantine to-night,” Billy mourned, as he
- and Dolores rode back to her hotel. “All the same, I'm going
- to borrow the launch of my good friend Leber and his <i>protégé</i> Don
- Juan Cafetéro, and go out to the steamer to-night. I can heave to a little
- way from the steamer and welcome the old rascal, anyhow; he'll be
- expecting me to do that, and I wouldn't disappoint him for a farm.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Fortunately, good little Leber consented to Billy's request, and Don
- Juan Cafetéro was sober enough to turn the engine over and run the launch.
- From the deck of the steamer Webster, smoking his postprandial cigar,
- caught sight of the launch's red and green sidelights chugging
- through the inky blackness; as the little craft slid up to within a cable's-length
- of the steamer and hove to, something told Webster that Billy Geary would
- soon be paging him. He edged over to the rail.
- </p>
- <p>
- “That you, Bill?” he shouted.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hey! Jack, old pal!” Billy's delighted voice answered
- him.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I knew you'd come, Billy boy.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I knew you'd know it, Johnny. Can't come aboard, you
- know, until the ship clears, but I can lie off here and say hello. How is
- your internal mechanism?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Grand. I've got the world by the tail on a down-hill haul
- once more, son. However, your query reminds me I haven't taken the
- medicine the doctor warned me to take after meals for a couple of weeks.
- Wait a minute, Bill, until I go to my stateroom and do my duty by my
- stomach.”
- </p>
- <p>
- For ten minutes Billy and Don Juan Cafetéro bobbed about in the launch;
- then a stentorian voice shouted from the steamer. “Hey, you! In the
- launch, there. Not so close. Back off.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Don Juan kicked the launch back fifty feet. “That will do!”
- the voice called again.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hello!” Billy soliloquized. “That's Jack Webster's
- voice. I've heard him bossing a gang of miners too often not to
- recognize that note of command. Wonder what he's up to. I thought he
- acted strangely—preferring medicine to me the minute I hailed him!”
- </p>
- <p>
- While he was considering the matter, a voice behind him said very softly
- and indistinctly, like a man with a harelip:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mr. Geary, will you be good enough to back your launch a couple of
- hundred feet? When I'm certain I can't be seen from the
- steamer, I'll come aboard.” Billy turned, and in the dim light
- of his binnacle lamp observed a beautiful pair of white hands grasping the
- gunwale on the starboard quarter. He peered over and made out the head and
- shoulders of a man.
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right,” he replied in a low voice. “Hang where you
- are, and you'll be clear of the propeller.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He signalled Don Juan, who backed swiftly away, while Billy doused the
- binnacle lamp.
- </p>
- <p>
- “That'll do,” the thick voice said presently. “Bear
- a hand, friend, and I'll climb over.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He came, as naked as Mercury, sprawled on his belly in the cockpit, opened
- his mouth, spat out a compact little roll of tinfoil, opened it and drew
- out a ball of paper which he flattened out on the floor of the cockpit and
- handed up to Billy.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thank you,” he said, very courteously and distinctly now.
- “My credentials, Mr. Geary, if you please.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Billy re-lighted the lamp and read:
- </p>
- <p>
- Dear Billy:
- </p>
- <p>
- I do not know the bearer from Adam's off ox; all I know about him is
- that he has all the outward marks of a gentleman, the courage of a
- bear-cat, a sense of humor and a head for which the Présidente of Sobrante
- will gladly pay a considerable number of <i>pesos oro</i>. Don't
- give up the head, because I like it and we do not need the money—yet.
- Take him ashore without anybody knowing it; hide him, clothe him, feed him—then
- forget all about him.
- </p>
- <p>
- Ever thine,
- </p>
- <p>
- J. S. Webster.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Kick the boat ahead again, Cafferty,” Billy ordered quietly.
- He turned to the late arrival.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mr. Man, your credentials are all in apple-pie order. Do you happen
- to know this bay is swarming with man-eating sharks?”
- </p>
- <p>
- The man raised a fine, strong, youthful face and grinned at him. “Hobson's
- choice, Mr. Geary,” he replied. “Afloat or ashore, the sharks
- are after me. Sir, I am your debtor.” He crawled into the cabin and
- stretched out on the settee as John Stuart Webster's voice came
- floating across the dark waters. “Hey, Billy!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hey, yourself!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Everything well with you, Billy?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “All is lovely, Jack, and the goose honks high. By the way, that
- friend of yours called with his letter of introduction. I took care of
- him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thanks. I suppose you'll call for me in that launch to-morrow
- morning?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Surest thing you know, Jack. Good-night, old top.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good-night, Billy. See you in the morning.” Don Juan Cafetéra
- swung the launch and headed back for the city. At Leber's little
- dock Billy stepped ashore, while Don Juan backed out into the dark bay
- again in order to avoid inquisitive visitors. Billy hastened to El Buen
- Amigo and returned presently with a bundle of clothes; at an agreed signal
- Don Juan kicked the launch into the dock again and Billy went aboard.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hat, shirt, necktie, duck suit, white socks, and shoes,” he
- whispered. “Climb into them, stranger.” Once more the launch
- backed out in the bay, where Webster's <i>protégé</i> dressed at his
- leisure, and Billy handed Don Juan a couple of pesos.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Remember, John,” he cautioned the bibulous one as they tied
- up for the night, “nothing unusual happened to-night.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Divil a thing, Misther Geary. Thank you, sor,” the Gaelic
- wreck replied blithely and disappeared in the darkness, leaving Billy to
- guide the stranger to El Buen Amigo, where he was taken into the
- confidence of Mother Jenks and, on Billy's guarantee of the board
- bill, furnished with a room and left to his own devices.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <p>
- John Stuart Webster came down the gangplank into Leber's launch hard
- on the heels of the port doctor.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You young horse-thief,” he cried affectionately. “I
- believe it's the custom down this way for men to kiss each other. We'll
- dispense with that, but by——” He folded Billy in a
- paternal embrace, then held him at arm's length and looked him over.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Lord, son,” he said, “you're as thin as a snake.
- I'll have to feed you up.”
- </p>
- <p>
- As they sped toward the landing, he looked Billy over once more. “I
- have it,” he declared. “You need a change of climate to get
- rid of that malaria. Just show me this little old mining claim of yours,
- Bill, and then hike for God's country. Three months up there will
- put you right again, and by the time you get back, we'll be about
- ready to weigh the first cleanup.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Billy shook his head. “I'd like to mighty well, Jack,”
- he replied, “but I just can't.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Huh! I suppose you don't think I'm equal to the task of
- straightening out this concession of yours and making a hummer out of it,
- eh?”
- </p>
- <p>
- The young fellow looked across at him sheepishly. “Mine?” he
- jeered. “Who's talking about a mine. I'm thinking of a
- girl!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Some girl, Johnny.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I hope she's not some parrakeet,” Webster bantered.
- “Have you looked up her pedigree?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ah-h-h!” Billy spat over the side in sheer disgust. “This
- is an American girl—born here, but white—raised in the U. S.
- A. I've only known her three weeks, but—ah!” And Billy
- kissed his hand into space.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I'm glad I find you so happy, boy. I suppose you're
- going to let your old Jack-partner give her the once-over and render his
- report before you make the fatal leap—eh?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sure! I want you to meet her. I've been telling her all about
- you, and she's crazy to meet you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good news! I had a good friend once—twice—three times—and
- lost him every time. Wives get so suspicious of their husband's
- single friends, you know, so Ï hope I make a hit with your heart's
- desire, Billy. When do you pull off the wedding?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh,” said Billy, “that's premature, Jack. I haven't
- asked her. How could I until I'm able to support her?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Look here, son,” Webster replied, “don't you go
- to work and be the kind of fool I was. You get married and take a chance.
- If you do, you'll have a son sprouting into manhood when you're
- as old as I. A man ought to marry young, Bill. Hang the odds. I know what's
- good for you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- At the hotel, while Webster shaved and arrayed himself in an immaculate
- white duck suit, with a broad black silk belt, buck shoes, and a Panama
- hat. Billy sent a note to Dolores, apprising her that John Stuart Webster
- had arrived—and would she be good enough to receive them?
- </p>
- <p>
- Miss Ruey would be that gracious. She was waiting for them in the veranda
- just off the <i>patio</i>, outwardly calm, but inwardly a foment of
- conflicting emotions. As they approached she affected not to see them and
- turning, glanced in the opposite direction; nor did she move her head
- until Billy's voice, speaking at her elbow, said:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, Dolores, here's my old Jack-partner waiting to be
- introduced. Jack, permit me to present Miss Dolores Ruey.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She turned her face and rose graciously, marking with secret triumph the
- light of recognition that; leaped to his eyes, hovered there the hundredth
- part of a second and departed, leaving those keen, quizzical blue orbs
- appraising her in the most natural manner imaginable. Webster bowed. .
- </p>
- <p>
- “It is a great happiness to meet you, Miss Ruey,” he said
- gravely.
- </p>
- <p>
- Dolores gave him her hand. “You have doubtless forgotten, Mr.
- Webster, but I think we have met before.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Indeed!” John Stuart Webster murmured interestedly. “So
- stupid of me not to remember. Where did we meet?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He has a profound sense of humour,” she soliloquized. “He's
- going to force me into the open. Oh, dear, I'm helpless.”
- Aloud she said: “On the train in Death Valley last month, Mr.
- Webster. You came aboard with whiskers.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster shook his head slowly, as if mystified. “I fear you're
- mistaken, Miss Ruey. I cannot recall the meeting, and if I ever wore
- whiskers, no human being would ever be able to recognize me without them.
- Besides, I wasn't on the train in Death Valley last month. I was in
- Denver—so you must have met some other Mr. Webster.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She flushed furiously. “I didn't think I could be mistaken,”
- she answered a trifle coldly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It is my misfortune that you were,” he replied graciously.
- “Certainly, had we met at that time, I should not have failed to
- recognize you now. Somehow, Miss Ruey, I never have any luck.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She was completely outgeneralled, and having the good sense to realize it,
- submitted gracefully. “He's perfectly horrible,” she
- told herself, “but at least he can lie like a gentleman—and I
- always did like that kind of man.”
- </p>
- <p>
- So they chatted on the veranda until luncheon was announced and Dolores
- left them to go to her room.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well?” Billy queried the moment she was out of earshot.
- “What do you think, Johnny?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I think,” said John Stuart Webster slowly, “that you're
- a good picker, Bill. She's my ideal of a fine young woman, and my
- advice to you is to marry her. I'll grub-stake you. Bill, this stiff
- collar is choking me; I wish you'd wait here while I go to my room
- and rustle up a soft one.”
- </p>
- <p>
- In the privacy of his room John Stuart Webster sat down on his bed and
- held his head in his hands, for he had just received a blow in the solar
- plexus and was still groggy; there was an ache in his head, and the
- quizzical light had faded from his eyes. Presently, however, he pulled
- himself together and approaching the mirror looked long at his
- weather-beaten countenance.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Too old,” he murmured, “too old to be dreaming dreams.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He changed to a soft collar, and when he descended to the <i>patio</i> to
- join Billy once more he was, to all outward appearances, his usual
- unperturbed self, for his was one of those rare natures that can derive a
- certain comfort from the misery of self-sacrifice—and in that five
- minutes alone in his room John Stuart Webster had wrestled with the
- tragedy of his life and won.
- </p>
- <p>
- He had resolved to give Billy the right of way on the highway to
- happiness.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XV
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">L</span>ATE in the
- afternoon of the day of his arrival in Buenaventura, in the cool recess of
- the deep veranda flanking the western side of the <i>patio</i> of the
- Hotel Mateo, John Stuart Webster sat in a wicker chair, cigar in mouth,
- elbows on knees, hands clasping a light Malacca stick, with the end of
- which he jabbed meditatively at a crack in the recently sprinkled tiled
- floor, as if punctuating each bitter thought that chased its predecessor
- through his somewhat numbed brain.
- </p>
- <p>
- In Mr. Webster's own whimsical phraseology, his clock had been
- fixed, on the instant he recognized in the object of his youthful partner's
- adoration the same winsome woman he had enthroned in his own secret castle
- of love. From that precise second Billy's preserve was as safe from
- encroachment by his friend as would be a bale of Confederate currency in
- an armour-steel vault on the three-thousand-foot level of a water-filled
- mine. Unfortunately for Webster, however, while he knew himself fairly
- well, he was not aware of this at the time. Viewed in the light of calmer
- reflection, Mr. Webster was quite certain he had made a star-spangled
- monkey of himself.
- </p>
- <p>
- He sought solace now in the fact that there had been mitigating
- circumstances. Throughout the entire journey from the steamer to the
- hotel, Billy had not once mentioned in its entirety the name of his adored
- one. In any Spanish-American country the name Dolores is not so uncommon
- as to excite suspicion; and Webster who had seen the mercurial William in
- and out of many a desperate love affair in the latter's brittle
- teens and early twenties, attached so little importance to this latest
- outbreak of the old disease that it did not occur to him to cross-examine
- Billy, after eliciting the information that the young man had not lost his
- heart to a local belle.
- </p>
- <p>
- The knowledge that Billy's inamorata was an American girl served to
- clear what threatened to be a dark atmosphere, and so Webster promptly had
- dismissed the subject.
- </p>
- <p>
- Any psychologist will tell one that it is quite possible for a person to
- dream, in the short space of a split second, of events which, if really
- consummated, would involve the passage of days, weeks, months, or even
- years! Now, Jack Webster was an extra fast thinker, asleep or awake, and
- in his mind's eye, as he sat there in the <i>patio</i>, he had a
- dreadful vision of himself with a delicate spray of lilies of the valley
- in the lapel of his dress coat, as he supported the malarial Billy to the
- altar, there to receive the promise of Dolores to love, honour, and obey
- until death them did part. As the said Billy's dearest friend and
- business associate—as the only logical single man available—the
- job was Webster's without a struggle. <i>Diablo!</i> Why did people
- persist in referring to such runners-up in the matrimonial handicap as <i>best</i>
- men, when at the very least calculation the groom was the winner?
- </p>
- <p>
- That wedding party was the very least of the future events Mr. Webster's
- hectic imagination conjured up. In the course of time (he reflected), a
- baby would doubtless arrive to bless the Geary household. Godfather? John
- Stuart Webster, of course. And when the fruit of that happy union should
- be old enough to “ride horsey,” who but the family friend
- would be required to get down on all fours and accommodate the unconscious
- tyrant? Boy or girl, it would make no difference; whichever way the cat
- jumped, he would be known as Uncle Jack; Billy would drag him up to the
- house once or twice a week, and he would go for the sake of the baby; then
- they would make him stay all night, and Mrs. Billy would sigh and try to
- smile when she detected cigarette ashes on the chiffonier in the spare
- bedroom—infallible sign that there was a bachelor about. Besides,
- happily married women have a mania for marrying off their husband's
- bachelor friends, and Mrs. Billy might scout up a wife for him—a
- wife he didn't want—and——No, he would <i>not</i>
- be the family friend. Nobody should ever Uncle Jack him if he could help
- it, and the only way to avoid the honour would be to eschew the job of
- best man, to resolve, in the very beginning of things, to beware of
- entangling friendships. Thus, as in a glass darkly, John Stuart Webster,
- in one illuminating moment, saw his future, together with his sole avenue
- of escape.
- </p>
- <p>
- All too forcibly Webster realized that Billy's bally-hooing must
- have created a favourable impression in Dolores's mind prior to the
- arrival of the victim; hence it seemed reasonable to presume that when she
- discovered in Billy Geary's Jack Webster her own soiled, ragged,
- bewhiskered, belligerent, battered knight, Sir John Stuart Webster of
- Death Valley, California, U. S. A., extreme measures would have to be
- taken instantly to save the said Webster from being spattered with a dear
- old friendship in the future—and a dear old friendship with Dolores
- Ruey was something he did not want, had never figured on, and shuddered at
- accepting. All things considered, it had appeared wise to him to
- challenge, politely but firmly, her suggestion that they had met.
- </p>
- <p>
- Of course, Webster had not really thought all this at the time; he had
- felt it and acted entirely upon instinct. A little private cogitation,
- however, had served to straighten out his thinking apparatus and-convince
- him that he had acted hastily—wherefore he would (a still, small
- voice whispered) repent at leisure. Dolores had not pressed the question
- (he was grateful to her for that), and for as long as five minutes he had
- congratulated himself on his success in “putting it over” on
- her. Then he had caught her scrutinizing the knuckles of his right hand;
- following her glance, he had seen that the crests of two knuckles were
- slightly bluish and tender, as new skin has a habit of showing on tanned
- knuckles. With a sinking heart he had recalled how painfully and deeply he
- had lacerated those knuckles less than a month before on the strong white
- teeth of a fat male masher, and while the last ugly shred of evidence had
- dropped off a week before, nevertheless to the critical and discerning eye
- there was still faint testimony of that fateful joust—just
- sufficient to convict!
- </p>
- <p>
- He had glanced at her swiftly; she had caught the glance and replied to it
- with the faintest possible gleam of mischievous challenge in her glorious
- brown orbs; whereupon John Stuart Webster had immediately done what every
- honest male biped has been doing since Adam told his first lie to Eve—blushed,
- and had drawn a little taunting smile for his pains.
- </p>
- <p>
- As Solomon once remarked, the wicked flee when no man pursueth; and that
- smile had scarcely faded before John Stuart Webster had unanimously
- resolved upon the course he should have pursued in the first place. He
- would investigate Billy's mining concession immediately; provided it
- should prove worth while, he would finance it and put the property on a
- paying basis; after which he would see to it that the very best doctors in
- the city of Buenaventura should inform Billy, unofficially and in the
- strictest confidence, that if he desired to preserve the life of Senor
- Juan Webstaire, he should forthwith pack that rapidly disintegrating
- person off to a more salubrious climate.
- </p>
- <p>
- Having made his decision, John Stuart Webster immediately took heart of
- hope and decided to lead trumps. He leaned over and slapped Billy Geary's
- knee affectionately.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, Bill, you saffron-coloured old wreck, how long do you suppose
- it will take for you to pick up enough strength and courage to do some
- active mining? You're looking like food shot from guns.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Billy needs a vacation and a change of climate,” Dolores
- declared with that motherly conviction all womankind feels toward a sick
- man.
- </p>
- <p>
- “So I do, Dolores,” Billy replied. “And I'm going
- to take it. Up there in the hills back of San Miguel de Padua, the
- ubiquitous mosquito is not, the climate is almost temperate—and
- 'tis there that I would be.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You can't start too soon to please me, Billy,” Webster
- declared. “I'm anxious to get that property on a paying basis,
- so I can get out of the country.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, Johnny,” the amazed Billy declared, “I thought you
- would stay and help run the mine.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Indeed! Well, why do you suppose I spent so much time teaching you
- how to run a mine, you young idiot, if not against just such a time as
- this? You found this concession and tied it up; I'll finance it and
- help you get everything started; but after that, I'm through, and
- you can manage it on salary and name the salary yourself. You have a
- greater interest in this country than I, William; and so with your kind
- permission we'll hike up to that concession tomorrow and give it the
- double-O; then, if I can O. K. the property, we'll cable for the
- machinery I ordered just before I left Denver, and get busy. We ought to
- have our first clean-up within ninety days. What kind of labour have you
- in this country? Anything worth while? If not, we'll have to import
- some white men that can do things.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Gosh, but you're in a hurry,” Billy murmured. He had
- been long enough in Sobrante to have acquired a touch of the <i>manana</i>
- spirit of the lowlands, and he disliked exceedingly the thought of having
- his courtship interrupted on a minute's notice.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You know me, son. I'm a hustler on the job,” Webster
- reminded him brutally; “so the sooner you start, the sooner you can
- get back and accumulate more malaria. What accommodations have you up
- there?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “None, Jack.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then you had better get some, Billy. I think you told me we have to
- take horses at San Miguel de Padua to ride in to the mine.” Billy
- nodded. “Then you had better buy a tent and bedding for both of us,
- ship the stuff up to San Miguel de Padua, go up with it and engage horses,
- a good cook, and a couple of reliable <i>mozos</i>. When you have
- everything ready, telegraph me and I'll come up.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why can't you come up with me?” Billy demanded.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have to see a man, and write some letters and send a cablegram
- and wait for an answer. I may have to loaf around here for two or three
- days. By the way, what did you do for that friend I sent to letter of
- introduction?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Exactly what you told me to do, Johnny”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Where is he now?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “At El Buen Amigo—the same place where I'm living.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right. We'll not discuss business any more, because we
- have finished with the business in hand—at least I have, Billy. When
- you get back to your hostelry, you might tell my friend I shall expect him
- over to dine with me this evening, if he can manage it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- For an hour they discussed various subjects; then Billy, declaring the
- siesta was almost over and the shops reopening as a consequence, announced
- his intention of doing his shopping, said good-bye to Dolores and Webster,
- and lugubriously departed on the business in hand.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why are you in such a hurry, Mr. Webster?” Dolores demanded.
- “You haven't been in Buenaventura six hours until you've
- managed to make me perfectly miserable.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Didn't you know Billy Geary is my personal property?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, but I suspected he might be. Bill's generous that way. He
- never hesitates to give himself to a charming woman.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “This was a case of mutual self-defense. Billy hasn't any
- standing socially, you know. I believe he has been seen shooting craps—isn't
- that what you call it?—with gentlemen of more or less colour; then
- he appeared in public with me, minus a chaperon—”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Fooey!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Likewise fiddlesticks! I should have had the <i>entrée</i> to the
- society of my father's old friends but for that; when old Mrs.
- General Maldonado lectured me (the dear, aristocratic soul conceived it to
- be her duty) on the impropriety of appearing on the Male-con with Billy
- and my guardian, who happens to be Billy's landlady, I tried to
- explain our American brand of democracy, but failed. So I haven't
- been invited anywhere since, and life would have been very dull without
- Billy. He has been a dear—and you have taken him away.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster laughed. “Well, be patient, Miss Ruey, and I'll give
- him back to you with considerably more money than he will require for your
- joint comfort. Billy in financial distress is a joy forever, but Billy in
- a top hat and a frock coat on the sunny side of Easy Street will be
- absolutely irresistible.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He's a darling. Ever since my arrival he has dedicated his
- life to keeping me amused.” She rose. “Despite your
- wickedness, Mr. Webster, I am going to be good to you. Billy and I always
- have five o'clock tea here in the veranda. Would you care to come to
- my tea-party?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Nothing could give me greater pleasure,” he assured her.
- </p>
- <p>
- She nodded brightly to him. “I'm going to run up to my room
- and put some powder on my nose,” she explained.
- </p>
- <p>
- “But you'll return before five o'clock?” Webster
- was amazed to hear himself plead.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You do not deserve such consideration, but I'll come back in
- about twenty minutes,” she answered and left him in the spot where
- we find him at the opening of this chapter, in pensive mood, jabbing his
- Malacca stick into a crack in the tiled floor.
- </p>
- <p>
- Presently Webster shuddered. “Good heavens,” he soliloquized,
- “what a jackass-play I made when I declined to admit we had met
- before. What harm could I have accomplished by admitting it? I must be
- getting old, because I'm getting cowardly. I'm afraid of
- myself! When I met that girl last month, it was in a region that God
- forgot—and I was a human caterpillar, which a caterpillar is a
- hairy, lowly, unlovely thing that crawls until it is metamorphosed into a
- butterfly and flies. Following out the simile, I am now a human butterfly,
- not recognizable as the caterpillar to one woman out of ten million; yet
- she pegs me out at first. Gad, but she's a remarkable girl! And now
- I'm in for it. I've aroused her curiosity; and being a woman,
- she will not rest until she has fathomed the reason back of my
- extraordinary conduct. I think I'm going to be smeared with
- confusion. A spineless man like you, Johnny Webster, stands as much show
- in a battle of wits with that woman as a one-legged white man at a coon
- cakewalk. I'm afraid of her, and I'm afraid of myself. I'm
- glad I'm going up to the mine. I'll go as quickly as I can,
- and stay as long as I can.”
- </p>
- <p>
- As Webster viewed the situation, his decision to see as little as possible
- of Dolores during his brief stay in Sobrante was a wise one. The less he
- saw of her (he told himself), the better for his peace of mind, for he was
- forty years old, and he had never loved before. For him this fever that
- burned in his blood, this delicious agony that throbbed in his heart—and
- all on the very ghost of provocation—were so many danger-signals,
- heralds of that grand passion which, coming to a man of forty, generally
- lasts him the remainder of his natural existence.
- </p>
- <p>
- “This certainly beats the Dutch!” he murmured, and beyond the
- peradventure of a doubt, it did. He reflected that all of his life the
- impulses of his generous nature had been his undoing. In an excess of
- paternalism he had advised Billy to marry the girl and not permit himself
- to develop into a homeless, childless, loveless man such as Exhibit A,
- there present; following his natural inclination to play any game,'
- red or black, he had urged Billy to marry the girl immediately and had
- generously offered a liberal subsidy to make the marriage possible, for he
- disliked any interference in his plans to make those he loved happy. And
- now——
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster was forced to admit he was afraid of himself. His was the rapidly
- disappearing code of the old unfettered West, that a man shall never
- betray his friend in thought, word, or deed. To John Stuart Webster any
- crime against friendship was the most heinous in all the calendar of human
- frailty; even to dream of slipping into Billy's shoes now would be
- monstrous; yet Webster knew he could not afford a test of strength between
- his ancient friendship for Billy and his masculine desire for a perfect
- mate. Remained then but one course:
- </p>
- <p>
- “I must run like a road-runner,” was the way Webster expressed
- it.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XVI
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">D</span>OLORES had been
- gone an hour before Webster roused from his bitter introspection
- sufficiently to glance at his watch. “Hum-m-m!” he grunted
- disapprovingly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, I've been here fully half an hour,” Dolores's
- voice assured him. He turned guiltily and found her leaning against the
- jamb in a doorway behind him and farther down the veranda. She was gazing
- at him with that calm, impersonal yet vitally interested glance that had
- so captivated him the first time he saw her.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, then”—bluntly—“why didn't you
- say so?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “The surest way to get oneself disliked is to intrude on the moods
- of one's friends. Moreover, I wanted to study you in repose. Are you
- quite finished talking to yourself and fighting imaginary enemies? If so,
- you might talk to me for a change; I'll even disagree with you on
- any subject, if opposition will make you any happier.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He rose and indicated the chair. “Please sit down, Miss Ruey. You
- are altogether disconcerting—too confoundedly smart. I fear I'm
- going to be afraid of you until I know you better.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She shrugged adorably and took the proffered chair. “That's
- the Latin in her—that shrug,” Webster thought. “I wonder
- what other mixtures go to make up that perfect whole.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Aloud he said: “So you wanted to study me in repose? Why waste your
- time? I am never in repose.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Feminine curiosity, Mr. Webster. Billy has talked so much of you
- that I wanted to see if you measured up to the specifications.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don't mind your looking at me, Miss Ruey, but I get fidgety
- when you look through me.” He was glad he said that, because it made
- her laugh—more immoderately, Webster thought, than the circumstances
- demanded. Nevertheless he had an insane desire to make her laugh like that
- again, to watch her mobile features run the gamut from sweet, nunlike
- repose to mirthful riot.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I can't help it—really,” she protested. “You're
- so transparent.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Webster reflected that doubtless she was right. Men in his fix
- generally were pitifully obvious. Nevertheless he was nettled. “Oh,
- I'm not so sure of that. I was just accusing myself of being a
- bonehead, and bone is opaque.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Perhaps I have an X-ray eye,” she replied demurely. “However,
- just to show you how easy you are to read, I'll not look at your
- silly head. Just let me have your hand, and I'll tell you all about
- yourself.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Is there any charge?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, a nominal one. However, I guarantee a truthful reading; if,
- when I am through, you are not wholly satisfied, you do not have to pay
- the price. Is that a satisfactory arrangement?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Right as a fox,” he declared, and held out his great
- calloused hand. He thrilled as she took it in both of hers, so soft and
- beautiful, and flattened it out, palm upward, on her knee. “A fine,
- large, useful hand,” she commented musingly. “The callouses
- indicate recent hard manual toil with a pick land shovel; despite your
- recent efforts with soap and brush and pumice-stone, there still remain
- evidences of some foreign matter ingrained in those callous spots. While,
- of course, I cannot be certain of my diagnosis without a magnifying glass,
- I venture the conjecture that it is a mineral substance, and your hands
- are so tanned one can readily see you have been working in the sun—in
- a very hot sun, as a matter of fact. Inasmuch as the hottest sun I ever
- felt was in Death Valley, as I crossed it on the train last month, your
- hand tells me you have been there.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The general structure of the hand indicates that you are of a
- peace-loving disposition, but are far from being a peace-at-any-price
- advocate.” She flipped his hand over suddenly. “Ah, the
- knuckles confirm that last statement. They tell me you will fight on
- provocation; while your fingers are still stiff and thick from your recent
- severe labours, nevertheless they indicate an artistic nature, from which
- I deduce that upon the occasion when you were in conflict last your
- opponent received a most artistic thrashing.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster twitched nervously. “Skip the coarse side of my nature,”
- he pleaded, “and tell me something nice about myself.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I am coming to that. This line indicates that you are very brave,
- gentle, and courteous. You are quick and firm in your decisions, but not
- always right, because your actions are governed by your heart instead of
- your head. Once you have made a decision, you are reckless of the
- consequences. Your lifeline tells me you are close to fifty-three years of
- age——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Seeress, you're shooting high and to the right,” he
- interrupted, for he did not relish that jab about his age. “I'll
- have you know I was forty years old last month, and that I can still do a
- hundred yards in twelve seconds flat—in my working clothes.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, don't feel peeved about it, Mr. Webster. I am not
- infallible; the best you can hope for from me is a high percentage of
- hits, even if I did shoot high and to the right that time. In point of
- worldly experience you're a hundred and six years old but I lopped
- off fifty per cent, to be on the safe side. To continue: You are of an
- extremely chivalrous nature—particularly toward young ladies
- travelling without chaperons; you are kind, affectionate, generous to a
- fault, something of a spendthrift. You will always be a millionaire or a
- pauper, never anything between—at least for any great length of
- time.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You've been talking to that callow Bill Geary.” Mr.
- Webster's face was so red he was sensible of a distinct feeling of
- relief that she kept her face bent over his hand.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I haven't. He's been talking to me. One may safely
- depend upon you to do the unexpected. Your matrimonial line is unbroken,
- proving you have never married, although right here the line is somewhat
- dim and frayed.” She looked up at him suddenly. “You haven't
- been in love, have you?” she queried with childlike insouciance.
- “In love—and disappointed?”
- </p>
- <p>
- He nodded, for he could not trust himself to speak.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How sad!” she cooed sympathetically. “Did she marry
- another, or did she die?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “She—she—yes, she died.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Cauliflower-tongue, in all probability, carried her off, poor
- thing! However, to your fortune: You are naturally truthful and would not
- make a deliberate misstatement of fact unless you had a very potent reason
- for it. You are sensitive to ridicule; it irks you to be teased,
- particularly by a woman, although you would boil in oil rather than admit
- it. You never ask impertinent questions, and you dislike those who do; you
- are not inquisitive; you never question other people's motives
- unless they appear to have a distinct bearing on your happiness or
- prosperity; you resent it when anybody questions your motives, and anybody
- who knows your nature will not question them. However, you have a strong
- sense of sportsmanship, and when fairly defeated, whether in a battle of
- fists or a battle of wits, you never hold a grudge, which is one of the
- very nicest characteristics a man can have——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Or a woman,” he suggested feebly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Quite right. Few woman have a sense of sportsmanship.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You have.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “How do you know?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “The witness declines to answer, on the ground that he might
- incriminate himself; also I object to the question because it is
- irrelevant, immaterial, and not cross-examination.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Accepted. You stand a very good chance of becoming a millionaire in
- Sobrante, but you must beware of a dark man who has crossed your path——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Which one?” Webster queried mirthfully. “All coons look
- alike to me—Greasers also.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mere patter of our profession, Mr. Webster,” she admitted,
- “tossed in to build up the mystery element and simulate wisdom.
- Fortune awaited you in the United States, but you put it behind you, at
- the call of friendship, for a fortune in Sobrante. Now you have
- reconsidered that foolish action and at this moment you are contemplating
- sending a cablegram to a fat old man who waddles when he walks, recalling
- your decision not to accept a certain proposition of a business nature.
- However, you are too late. The fat old man with the waddle has made other
- arrangements, and if you want to make money, you'll remain in
- Sobrante. I think that is all, Mr. Webster.” He was gazing at her
- with an expression composed of equal parts of awe, amazement,
- consternation, adoration, and blank stupidity.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well,” she queried innocently, “to quote Billy's
- colloquial style: did I put it over?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You did very well for an amateur, but I'm a doubting Thomas.
- I have to poke my finger into the wound, so to speak, before I'll
- believe. About this fat old man who waddles when he walks: a really
- topnotch palmist could tell me his name.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I'm only an amateur, but still I think I might, to
- quote Billy again, make a stab at it. A little while ago you said I had a
- strong sense of sportsmanship. Do you care to bet me about ten dollars I
- cannot give you the fat party's initials—all three of them?”
- </p>
- <p>
- He gazed at her owlishly. She was the most perfectly amazing girl he had
- ever met; he was certain she would win the ten dollars from him, but then
- it was worth ten dollars to know for a certainty whether she was perfect
- or possessed of a slight flaw; so he silently drew forth a wallet that
- would have choked a cow and skinned off a ten-dollar gold certificate of
- the United States of America.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm game,” he mumbled. “To quote Billy again:
- 'Put up or shut up.'”
- </p>
- <p>
- “The fat gentleman's initials are E. P. J.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “By the twelve apostles, Peter, Simon——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Don't blaspheme, Mr. Webster.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He stood up and shook himself. “When you order the tea,” he
- said very distinctly, “please have mine cold. I need a bracer after
- that. Take the ten. You've won it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thanks ever so much,” she answered in a matter-of-fact tone
- and tucked the bill inside of her shirtwaist. “I am a very poor
- woman and—'Every little bit added to what you've got
- makes just a little bit more,'” she carolled, swaying her
- lithe, beautiful body and snapping her fingers like a cabaret dancer.
- </p>
- <p>
- He could have groaned with the futility of his overwhelming desire for
- her; it even occurred to him what a shame it was to waste a marvel like
- her on a callow young pup like Billy, who had fought so many deadly
- skirmishes with Dan Cupid that a post-impressionistic painting of the
- Geary heart must resemble a pincushion. Then he remembered that this was
- an ungenerous, a traitorous thought, and that he had not paid the lady her
- fee.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, what's the tariff?” he asked.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You really feel that I have earned a professional's fee?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Beyond a doubt.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She stood a moment gazing thoughtfully down at the tip of her little toe,
- struggling to be quite cool and collected in the knowledge that she was
- about to do a daring, almost a brazen thing—wondering with a queer,
- panicky little fluttering of her heart if <i>he</i> would think any the
- less of her for it.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well—I—that is——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “The cauliflower ear is not unknown among pugilists in our own dear
- native land, but the cauliflower tongue appears to blossom exclusively in
- Sobrante,” he suggested wickedly.
- </p>
- <p>
- She bit her lips to repress a smile. “Since you have taken Billy
- away from me this evening, I shall make you take Billy's place this
- evening. After dinner you shall hire an open victoria with two little
- white horses and drive me around the Malecon. There is a band concert
- to-night.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “If it's the last act of my wicked life!” he promised
- fervently. Strange to relate, in that ecstatic moment no thought of Billy
- Geary marred the perfect serenity of what promised to be the most
- perfectly serene night in history.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XVII
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HEY were seated at
- the tiny tea table when the sound of feet crunching the little shell-paved
- path through the <i>patio</i> caused Webster and Dolores to turn their
- heads simultaneously. Coming toward them was an individual who wore upon a
- head of flaming red a disreputable, conical-crowned straw sombrero; a
- soiled cotton camisa with the tails flowing free of his equally soiled
- khaki trousers, and sandals of the kind known as <i>alpargates</i>—made
- from the tough fibre of a plant of the cactus family and worn only by the
- very lowliest peons—completed his singular attire.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hello!” Webster murmured whimsically. “Look who's
- here!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “One of Billy's friends and another reason why he has no
- social standing,” Dolores whispered. “I believe he's
- going to speak to us.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Such evidently appeared to be the man's intention. He came to the
- edge of the veranda, swept his ruin of a hat from his red head and bowed
- with Castilian expansiveness.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yer pardon, Miss, for appearin' before you.” She smiled
- her forgiveness to what Webster how perceived to be an alcoholic wreck. He
- was about to dismiss the fellow with scant ceremony, when Dolores, with
- that rich sense of almost masculine humour—a humour that was
- distinctly American—said sweetly:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mr. Webster, shake hands with Don Juan Cafetéro, <i>bon vivant</i>
- and man about town. Don Juan, permit me to present Mr. Webster, from
- somewhere in the United States. Mr. Webster is a mining partner of our
- mutual friend Mr. William Geary.”
- </p>
- <p>
- A long, sad descent into the Pit had, however, imbued Don Juan with a
- sense of his degradation; he was in the presence of a superior, and he
- acknowledged the introduction with a respectful inclination of his head.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Tis you I've called to see, Misther Webster, sor,”
- he explained.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Very well, old-timer. In what way can I be of service to you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Tis the other way around, sor, if ye plaze, an' for
- that same there's no charrge, seein' ye're the partner,
- av that fine, kind gintleman, Misther Geary Sure 'tis he that's
- the free-handed lad wit' his money whin he has it, God bless him, an'
- may the heavens be his bed, although be the same token I can see wit'
- the half av an eye that 'tis yerself thinks nothin' av a
- dollar, or five, for that matther. However, sor, that's neither here
- nor there. Did ye, whilst in New Orleans, have d'alings wit' a
- short, shtout spiggoty wit' a puckered scar undher his right eye?”
- </p>
- <p>
- John Stuart Webster suddenly sat up straight and gazed upon the lost son
- of Erin with grave interest. “Yes,” he replied, “I seem
- to recall such a man.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Only another proof of my ability as a palmist,” Dolores
- struck in. “Remember, Mr. Webster, I warned you to beware of a dark
- man that had crossed your path.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “An' well he may, Miss—well he may,” Don Juan
- agreed gloomily. “'Tis none av me business, sor, but would ye
- mind tellin' me just what ye did to that spiggoty?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, to begin, last Sunday morning I interrupted this pucker-eyed
- fellow and a pop-eyed friend of his while engaged in an attempt to
- assassinate a white, inoffensive stranger. The following day, at the
- gangplank of the steamer, we met again; he poked his nose into my
- business, so I squeezed his nose until he cried; right before everybody I
- did it, Don Juan, and to add insult to injury, I plucked a few hairs from
- his rat's moustache—one hair per each pluck.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'd a notion ye did somethin' to him, sor. Now, thin,
- listen to me: I'm not much to look at, but I'm white. I'm
- an attashay, as ye might say, av Ignatz Leber—him that do have the
- import an' export house at the ind av the Calle San Rosario,
- forninst the bay. Also he do have charrge av the cable office, an'
- whin I'm sober enough, I deliver cable-grains for Leber. Now, thin,
- ye'll recall we had a bit av a shower to-day at noon?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Dolores and Webster nodded. Don Juan, after glancing cautiously around,
- lowered his voice and continued: “I was deliverin' a cablegram
- for Leber, an' me course took me past the palace gate—which,
- be the same token, has sinthry-boxes both inside an' out, wan on
- each side av the gate. The sinthry was not visible as I came along, an'
- what wit' the shower comin' as suddint as that, an' me
- wit' a wardrobe that's not so extinsive I can afford to get it
- wet, I shtepped into wan av the outside sintry-boxes till the rain should
- be over, an' what wit' a dhrink av <i>aguardiente</i> I'd
- took to brace me for the thrip, an' the mimory av auld times, I fell
- asleep.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Dear knows how long I sat there napping; all I know is that I was
- awakened by the sound av three men talkin' at the gate, an'
- divil a worrd did they say but what I heard. They were talkin' in
- Spanish, but I undhershtood thim well enough. 'He's at the
- Hotel Mateo,' says wan voice, 'an' his name is Webster—Jawn
- Webster. He's an American, an' a big, savage-lookin' lad
- at that, so take, me advice an' be careful. Do ye two keep an eye on
- him wherever he goes, an' if he should shtep out at night an'
- wandher t'rough a dark shtreet, do ye two see to it that he's
- put where he'll not interfere again in Don Felipe's affairs.
- No damn' gringo'—beggin' yer pardon, Miss—'can
- intherfere in the wurrk av the Intilligince Bureau at a time like this, in
- addition to insultin' our honoured chief, wit'out the
- necessity av bein' measured for a coffin.' '<i>Si, mi
- general.'</i> says another lad, an 'To be sure, <i>mi general</i>,'
- says a thirrd; an' wit' that the gineral, bad cess to him,
- wint back to the palace an' the other two walked on up the <i>calle</i>
- an' away from the sinthry-box.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Did you come out and follow them?” Webster demanded briskly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Faith, I did. Wan av them is Francisco Arredondo, a young cavalry
- lootinint, an' the other wan is Captain José Benevides, him that do
- be the best pistol-shot an' swordsman in the spiggoty army. 'Twas
- him that kilt auld Gineral Gonzales in a djuel a month ago.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What kind of looking man is this Benevides, my friend?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “A tall, thin young man, wit' a dude's moustache an'
- a diamond ring on his right hand. He do be whiter nor most. Have a care
- would ye meet him around the city an' let him pick a fight wit'
- ye. An' have a care, sor, would ye go out av a night.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thank you, Don Juan. You're the soul of kindness. What else
- do you know?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well,” Don Juan replied with a naïve grin, “I did know
- somethin' else, but shure, Misther Geary advised me to forget it. I
- was wit' him in the launch last night.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster stepped out of the veranda and laid a friendly hand on Don Juan
- Cafetéro's shoulder. “Don Juan,” he said gently, “I'm
- going back to the United States very soon. Would you like to come with me?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Don Juan's watery eyes grew a shade mistier, if possible. He shook
- his head. “Whin I'm dhrunk here, sor,” he replied,
- “no wan pays any attintion to me, but in America they'd give
- me ten days in the hoosgow wanst a week. Thank you, sor, but I'll
- shtay here till the finish.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “There axe institutions in America where hopeless inebriates,
- self-committed, may be sent for a couple of years. I believe 6 per cent,
- are permanently cured. You could be one of the six—and I'd
- cheerfully pay for it and give you a good job when you come out.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Don Juan Cafetéro shook his red head hopelessly. He knew the strength of
- the Demon and had long since ceased to fight even a rear-guard action.
- Webster put a hand under the stubbly chin and tilted Don Juan's head
- sharply. “Hold up your head,” he commanded. “You're
- the first of your breed I ever saw who would admit he was whipped. Here's
- five dollars for you—five dollars gold. Take it and return with the
- piece intact to-morrow morning, Don Juan Cafetéro.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Don Juan Cafetéro's wondering glance met Webster's directly,
- wavered, sought the ground, but at a jerk on his chin came back and—stayed.
- Thus for at least ten seconds they gazed at each other; then Webster
- spoke. “Thank you,” he said.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Me name is John J. Cafferty,” the lost one quavered.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Round one for Cafferty,” Webster laughed. “Good-bye
- now, until nine tomorrow. I'll expect you here, John, without fail.”
- And he took the derelict's hand and wrung it heartily.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well,” Webster remarked to Dolores as he held out his cup for
- more tea, “if I'm not the original Tumble Tom, I hope I may
- never see the back of my neck.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Do you attach any importance to Don Juan's story?” she
- asked anxiously.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, but not so much as Don Juan does. However, to be forewarned is
- to be forearmed.” He sighed. “I am the innocent bystander,”
- he explained, “and I greatly fear I have managed to snarl myself up
- in a Sobrantean political intrigue, when I haven't the slightest
- interest either way. However, that's only one more reason why I
- should finish my work here and get back to Denver.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But how did all this happen, Mr. Webster?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Like shooting fish in a dry lake, Miss Ruey,” Webster
- replied, and related to her in detail the story of his adventure with the
- Sobrantean assassins in Jackson Square and his subsequent meeting with
- Andrew Bowers aboard <i>La Estrellita</i>.
- </p>
- <p>
- Dolores laughed long and heartily as Webster finished his humorous
- recital. “Oh, you're such a very funny man,” she
- declared. “Billy told me God only made one Jack Webster and then
- destroyed the mold; I believe Billy is right. But do tell me what became
- of this extraordinary and unbidden guest.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “The night the steamer arrived in port, Billy and Don Juan came out
- in a launch to say 'Hello,' so I seized upon the opportunity
- to tell Andrew to jump overboard and swim to the launch. Gave him a little
- note to Billy—carried it in his mouth—instructing Billy to do
- the right thing by him—and Billy did it. I don't know what
- Andrew is up to and I don't care. Where I was raised we let every
- man roll his own hoop. All I hope is that they don't shoot Andrew.
- If they do, I fear I'll weep. He's certainly a skookum lad. Do
- you know, Miss Ruey, I love anybody that can impose on me—make a
- monkey out of me, in fact—and make me like it?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That's so comforting,” she remarked dryly. Webster
- looked at her sharply, suspiciously; her words were susceptible of a dual
- interpretation. Her next sentence, however, dissipated this impression.
- “Because it confirms what I told you this afternoon when I read your
- palm,” she added.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You didn't know how truly you spoke when you referred to the
- dark man that had crossed my path. He's uncomfortably real—drat
- him!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then you are really concerned?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not at all, but I purpose sleeping with one eye open. I shan't
- permit myself to feel concerned until they send more than two men after me—say
- eight or ten. A husky American ought to be willing to give these
- spiggoties a pull in the weights.”
- </p>
- <p>
- His indifference appalled her; she leaned forward impulsively and laid a
- hand on his forearm. “But you must heed Don Juan's warning,”
- she declared seriously. “You must not go out alone at night.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He grinned boyishly. “Of course not, Miss Ruey. You're going
- to ride out with me this evening.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm not. Don Juan's report has spoiled all that. I'll
- not subject you to risk.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Very well; then I shall drive out alone.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You're a despot, Mr. Webster—a regular despot.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Likewise a free agent.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'll go with you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I thought so.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You're—you're——”
- </p>
- <p>
- He rose while she was searching for the right word. “Will you excuse
- me until after dinner, Miss Ruey? I'd love to stay and chat with
- you, even though it does appear that presently we shall be calling each
- other names, but the fact of the matter is—well, I am in a very
- serious predicament, and I might as well start right now to prepare to
- meet any emergency. For what hour shall I order the carriage?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Seven-thirty. After all, they'll not dare to murder you on
- the Malecon.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I agree with you. It will have to be done very quietly, if at all.
- You've been mighty nice to me this afternoon, seeress; I shall be
- grateful right up to the moment of dissolution.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Speak softly but carry a big stick,” she warned him.
- </p>
- <p>
- “A big gun,” he corrected here, “—two of them, in
- fact.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sensible man! I'm not going to worry about you, Mr. Webster.”
- She nodded her permission for him to retire, and as he walked down the
- veranda and into the hotel, her glance followed him with pardonable
- feminine curiosity, marking the breadth of his shoulders, the quick,
- springy stride, the alert, erect poise of his head on the powerful neck.
- </p>
- <p>
- “A doer of deeds are you, John Stuart Webster,” she almost
- whispered. “As Kipling would say: '<i>Wallah!</i> But you are
- a man!'” ^
- </p>
- <p>
- A stealthy footstep sounded below the veranda she turned and beheld Don
- Juan Cafetéro, his hat in his left hand, in his right a gold-piece which
- he held toward her.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Take it, <i>allanah</i>,” he wheezed in his hoarse, drunkard's
- whisper. “Keep it f'r me till to-morrow, for sorra wan av me
- can I trust to do that same—an' be the same token I can't
- face that big man wit'out it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why not, Don Juan?”
- </p>
- <p>
- He hung his red head. “I dunno, Miss,” he replied miserably.
- “Maybe 'tis on account av him—the eye av him—the
- way av him—divil such a man did I ever meet—God bless him!
- Shure, Misther Geary do be the fine lad, but he—he——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mr. Geary never put a big forefinger under your chin and bade you
- hold up your head. Is that it?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Tis not what he did, Miss, but the way he did it. All the
- fiends av hell 'll be at me this night to shpend what he give me—and
- I—I'm afraid——”
- </p>
- <p>
- He broke off, mumbling and chattering like a man in the grip of a great
- terror. In his agony of body and spirit, Dolores could have wept for Don
- Juan Cafetéro, for in that supreme moment the derelict's soul was
- bare, revealing something pure and sweet and human, for all his
- degradation. How did Jack Webster know? wondered Dolores. And why did he
- so confidently give an order to this human flotsam and expect it to be
- obeyed? And why did Don Juan Cafetéro come whining to her for strength to
- help him obey it? Through the murk of her girlish unsophstication and
- scant knowledge of human nature these and other questions obtruded
- themselves, the while she gazed down at Don Juan's dirty, quivering
- hand that held the coin toward her. And presently the answer came—a
- quotation long since learned and forgotten:
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- Be noble—and the nobleness that lies in other men,
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- Sleeping but never dead,
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- Will rise in majesty to meet thine own.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- “I will not spoil his handiwork,” she told herself, and she
- stepped down off the veranda to a position directly in front of Don Juan.
- “That wouldn't be playing the game,” she told him.
- “I can't help you deceive him. You are the first of your breed——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Don't say it,” he cried. “Didn't he tell me
- wanst?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then make the fight, Don—Mr. Cafferty.” She lowered her
- voice. “I am depending on you to stay sober and guard him. He needs
- a faithful friend so badly, now that Mr. Geary is away.” She patted
- the grimy hand and left him staring at the ground. Presently he sighed,
- quivered horribly, and shambled out of the <i>patio</i> on to the
- firing-line. And when he reported to Jack Webster at nine o'clock
- next morning, he was sober, shaking horribly and on the verge of <i>delirium
- tremens</i>, but tightly clasped in his right hand he held that
- five-dollar piece. Dolores, who had made it her business to be present at
- the interview, heard John Stuart Webster say heartily:
- </p>
- <p>
- “The finest thing about a terrible fight, friend Cafferty, is that
- if it is a worth-while battle, the spoils of victory are exceedingly
- sweet. You are how about to enjoy one fourth of the said spoils—a
- large jolt of <i>aguardiente!</i> You must have it to steady your nerves.
- Go to the nearest <i>cantina</i> and buy one drink; then come back with
- the change. By that time I shall have breakfasted and you and I will then
- go shopping. At noon you shall have another drink; at four o'clock
- another; and just before retiring you shall have the fourth and last for
- this day. Remember, Cafferty: one jolt—no more—and then back
- here with the exact change.”
- </p>
- <p>
- As Don Juan scurried for salvation, Webster turned to Dolores. “He'll
- fail me now, but that will not be his fault but mine. I've set him
- too great a task in his present weakened condition. In the process of
- exchanging American gold for the local shin-plasters, he'll skin me
- to death and emerge from the transaction with a full quart bottle in
- excess of his drink. Nevertheless, to use a colloquial expression, I have
- the Cafferty goat—and I'm going to keep it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster went immediately to his room, called for pen and paper, and
- proceeded at once to do that which he had never done before—to wit,
- prepare his last will and testament. For the first time in his career
- death threatened while he had money in his possession, and while he had
- before him for performance a task requiring the expenditure of money, his
- manifest duty, therefore, was to guarantee the performance of that task,
- win, lose, or draw in the game of life; so in a few brief paragraphs John
- Stuart Webster made a holographic will and split his bankroll equally
- between the two human beings he cared for most—Billy Geary and
- Dolores Huey. “Bill's a gambler like me,” he ruminated;
- “so I'll play safe. The girl is a conservative, and after Bill's
- wad is gone, he'd be boiled in oil before he'd prejudice hers.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Having made his will, Webster made a copy of it. The original he placed in
- an envelope, sealed, and marked: “Last Will and Testament of John S.
- Webster, of Denver, Colorado, U. S. A. To be delivered to William H. Geary
- upon the death of the testator.” The copy he also placed in an
- envelope marked: “From Jack. Not to be opened until after my death.”
- This envelope he then enclosed in a larger one and mailed to Billy at
- Calle de Concordia No. 19.
- </p>
- <p>
- Having made his few simple preparations for death, Mr. Webster next
- burrowed in his trunk, brought forth his big army-type automatic pistol
- and secured it in a holster under his arm, for he deemed it unwise and
- provocative of curiosity to appear in immaculate ducks that bulged at the
- right hip. Next he filled two spare clips with cartridges and slipped them
- into his pocket, thus completing his few simple preparations for life.
- </p>
- <p>
- He glanced out the window at the sun. There would still be an hour of
- daylight; so he descended to the lobby, called a carriage and drove to the
- residence of the American consulate.
- </p>
- <p>
- Lemuel Tolliver, formerly proprietor of a small retail wood and coal yard
- in Hastings, Nebraska, was the consul. He talked through his nose,
- employed double negatives, chewed tobacco, wore celluloid cuffs and
- collar, and received Mr. Webster in his shirt sleeves. He was the type of
- small-town peanut politician who never forgets for an instant that to be
- an American is greater than to be a king, and who strives assiduously to
- exhibit his horrible idea of American democracy to all and sundry, to his
- own profound satisfaction and the shame of his visiting countrymen.
- </p>
- <p>
- He glanced at the card which Webster had sent in by his clerk. “Well,
- sir!” he began briskly. “Delighted to know you, Mr. Webster.
- Ain't there nothin' I can do for you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thank you. There is. This is my will. Please put it in your safe
- until I or my executor shall call for it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What!” boomed the Honourable Tolliver. “You ain't
- thinkin' o' dyin', are yuh?” he laughed.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Listen,” Webster urged him, and Mr. Tolliver helped himself
- to a fresh bite of chewing-tobacco and inclined his head. Briefly, but
- without omitting a single important detail, Webster told the consul of his
- adventure in New Orleans with the secret service representative of the
- Republic of Sobrante. “And not an hour since,” he concluded,
- “I was informed, through a source I consider reliable, that I am in
- momentary danger of assassination at the hands of two men whose names I
- know.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, don't tell me nothin' about it,” Mr.
- Tolliver interrupted. “I'm here on Government affairs, not to
- straighten out private quarrels. If you're figurin' on gittin'
- killed, my advice to you is to git out o' the country P. D. Q.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You overlook the fact that I didn't come here for advice, my
- dear Mr. Consul,” Webster reminded him with some asperity. “I'm
- not at all afraid of getting killed. What is worrying me is the certainty
- that I'll get there first with the most guns, and if I should, in
- self-defense, be forced to eliminate two Sobrantean army officers, I want
- to know what you're going to do to protect me. I want to make an
- affidavit that my life is in danger; I want my witness to make a similar
- affidavit, and I want to file those affidavits with you, to be adduced as
- evidence to support my plea of selfdefense. In other words, I want to have
- these affidavits, with the power of the United States back of them, to
- spring in case the Sobrantean government tries to railroad me for murder—and
- I want you to spring them for me.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I won't do nothin' o' the kind,” Mr.
- Tolliver declared bluntly. “You got plenty o' chance to get
- out o' this country an' save international complications. <i>La
- Estrellita</i> pulls out to-morrow mornin', an' you pull with
- her, or stay an' take your own chances. I ain't prejudicin'
- my job by makin' myself <i>nux vomica</i> to the Sobrantean
- government—an' that's just what will happen if I mix up
- in this private quarrel.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But, my dear Mr. Consul, I am going into business here—the
- mining business. I have every right in this country, and it is your duty
- to protect my rights while here. I can't side-step a fight just to
- hold you in your job.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It's a matter outside my jurisdiction,” Mr. Tolliver
- declared with such a note of finality in his voice that Webster saw the
- uselessness of further argument.
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right,” he replied, holding his temper as best he could.
- “I'm glad to know you think so much of your job. I may live
- long enough to find an opportunity to kick you out of it and run this
- consulate myself. I'll send my affidavits direct to the State
- department at Washington; you take orders from Washington, I dare say.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “When I get them. Good day.”
- </p>
- <p>
- John Stuart Webster left the American consulate in a frenzy of
- inarticulate rage in the knowledge that he was an American and represented
- in Sobrante by such an invertebrate as the Honourable Lemuel Tolliver. At
- the Hotel Mateo he dismissed the carriage, climbed the three short steps
- to the entrance and was passing through the revolving portal, when from
- his rear some one gave the door a violent shove, with the result that the
- turnstile partition behind him collided with his back with sufficient
- force to throw him against the partition in front. Instantly the door
- ceased to pivot, with Webster locked neatly in the triangular space
- between the two sections of the revolving door and the jamb.
- </p>
- <p>
- He turned and beheld in the section behind him an officer of the
- Sobrantean army. This individual, observing he was under Webster's
- scrutiny, scowled and peremptorily motioned to Webster to proceed—which
- the latter did, with such violence that the door, continuing to revolve,
- caught up with the Sobrantean and subjected him to the same indignity to
- which he had subjected Webster.
- </p>
- <p>
- Once free of the door, Webster waited just inside the lobby for the
- Sobrantean to conclude his precipitate entrance. When he did, Webster
- looked him over with mild curiosity and bowed with great condescension.
- “Did any gentleman ever tell the senor that he is an ill-mannered
- monkey?” he queried coolly in excellent Spanish. “If not, I
- desire to give the senor that information, and to tell him that his size
- alone prevents me from giving him a nice little spanking.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Pig!” the rude one answered hotly. His olive features paled
- with anger, he trembled with emotion and seemed undecided what to do—seeing
- which Webster grinned at him tantalizingly. That decided him. No
- Latin-American, with the exaggerated ego of his race, can bear even a
- suspicion of ridicule. The officer walked fiercely toward Webster and
- swung his arm toward the latter's face in an effort to land a slap
- that was “meant.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster merely threw back his head and avoided the blow; his long left arm
- shot out and beat down the Sobrantean's guard; then Webster's
- right hand closed around the officer's collar. “Come to me,
- thou insolent little one,” he crooned, and jerked his assailant
- toward him, gathered him up in his arms, carried him, kicking and
- screaming with futile rage, out into the <i>patio</i> and soused him in
- the fountain.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Now, then, spitfire, that will cool your hot head, I trust,”
- he admonished his unhappy victim, and returned to the hotel. At the desk
- he paused.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Who was that person I just bathed?” he inquired of the
- excited clerk.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ah, senor, you shall not long be kept in ignorance,” that
- functionary informed him. “That is the terrible Captain Benavides——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Do you know, I had a notion it was he?” Webster replied
- ruminatively. “Well, I suppose I'm in for a duel now,”
- he added to himself as he climbed the stairs to his room. “I think
- that will be most interesting.”
- </p>
- <p>
- John Stuart Webster changed into dry clothing and descended to the dining
- room. Miss Ruey was already seated at her table and motioned him to the
- seat opposite her, and as he sat down with a contented little sigh, she
- gazed at him with a newer and more alert interest.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I hear you've been having adventures again,” she
- challenged. “The news is all over the hotel. I heard it from the
- head waiter.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Coffee and pistols for two at daylight,” he answered
- cheerily. “Whenever I see trouble coming and realize that I cannot
- possibly avoid it, I generally take the bull by the horns, so to speak,
- and go forth to meet it. I have discovered from experience that the
- surprise of the attack generally disorganizes the other fellow, for few
- people care to fight an eager enemy. I see you have sampled the soup. Is
- it good?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Excellent. I marvel that your appetite is so keen, considering the
- gloomy outlook.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, there won't be any trouble,” he assured her.
- “Duelling is silly, and I wouldn't engage in it on a bet. By
- the way, I have made my will, just to be on the safe side. Will you be
- good enough to take charge of it until after the funeral? You can turn it
- over to Billy then.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She fell readily into the bantering spirit with which he treated this
- serious subject. Indeed, it was quite impossible to do otherwise, for John
- Stuart Webster's personality radiated such a feeling of security, of
- absolute, unbounded confidence in the future and disdain for whatever of
- good fortune or ill the future might entail, that Dolores, found it
- impossible not to assimilate his mood.
- </p>
- <p>
- At seven-thirty, after a delightful dinner, the memory of which Mr.
- Webster was certain would linger under his foretop long after every other
- memory had departed, he escorted her to the open carriage he had ordered,
- and for two hours they circled the Malecon with the élite of Buenaventura,
- listening to the music of the band, and during the brief intermissions, to
- the sound of the waves lapping the beach at the foot of the broad
- driveway.
- </p>
- <p>
- “This,” said John Stuart Webster, as he said goodnight to
- Dolores in the lobby, “is the end of a perfect day.”
- </p>
- <p>
- It wasn't, for at that precise moment a servant handed him a card,
- and indicated a young man seated in an adjacent lounging-chair, at the
- same time volunteering the information that the visitor had been awaiting
- Senor Webster's return for the past hour.
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster glanced at the card and strode over to the young man. “I am
- Mr. Webster, sir,” he announced civilly in Spanish. “And you
- are Lieutenant Arredondo?”
- </p>
- <p>
- The visitor rose, bowed low and indicated he was that gentleman. “I
- have called, Mr. Webster,” he stated in most excellent English,
- “in the interest of my friend and comrade, Captain Benavides.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ah, yes! The fresh little rooster I ducked in the fountain this
- evening. Well, what does the little squirt want now? Another ducking?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Arredondo flushed angrily but remembered the dignity of his mission and
- controlled his temper. “Captain Benavides has asked me to express to
- you the hope that you, being doubtless a man of honour——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Stop right there, Lieutenant. There is no doubt about it. I <i>am</i>
- a man of honour, and unless you are anxious to be ducked in the fountain,
- you will be more careful in your choice of words. Now, then: You are about
- to say that, being a man of honour——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You would accord my friend the satisfaction which one gentleman
- never fails to accord another.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That lets me out, <i>amigo</i>.” Webster laughed. “Benavides
- isn't a gentleman. He's a cutthroat, a murdering little
- black-and-tan hound. Do I understand he wants me to fight a duel with him?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Lieutenant Arredondo could not trust himself to speak, and so he bowed
- profoundly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Very well, then, Lieutenant,” Webster agreed. “I'll
- fight him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “To-morrow morning at five o'clock.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Five minutes from now if you say so.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Captain Benavides will be grateful for your willing spirit, at
- least,” the second replied bitterly. “You realize, of course,
- Mr. Webster, that as the challenged party, the choice of weapons rests
- with you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Certainly. I wouldn't have risked a duel if the choice lay
- with the other fellow. With your permission, my dear sir, we'll
- fight with Mauser rifles at a thousand yards, for the reason that I never
- knew a greaser that could hit the broad side of a brewery at any range
- over two hundred and fifty yards.” Webster chuckled fiendishly.
- </p>
- <p>
- Lieutenant Arredondo bit his lips in anger and vexation. “I cannot
- agree to such an extraordinary duel,” he complained. “Have you
- no other choice?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, since a fight at long range doesn't suit you, suppose
- we have one at close range. I propose that our seconds handcuff us
- together by our left wrists, give each of us a knife and leave us alone in
- a room for a couple of minutes.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “My friend, Captain Benavides, sir, is not a butcher,”
- Arredondo reminded Mr. Webster acidly. “In such a fight as you
- describe, he would be at a great disadvantage.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You're whistling—he would. I'd swing him around
- my head with my left hand and dash his fool brains out.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It is the custom in Sobrante for gentlemen to fight with rapiers.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, dry up, you sneaking murderer,” Webster exploded. “There
- isn't going to be any duel except on my terms—so you might as
- well take a straight tip from headquarters and stick to plain
- assassination. You and Benavides have been sent out by your superior to
- kill me—you got your orders this very afternoon at the entrance to
- the government palace—and I'm just not going to be killed. I
- don't like the way you part your hair, and I despise a man who uses
- cologne and wears his handkerchief up his sleeve; so beat it, boy, while
- the going is good.” He pointed toward the hotel door. “Out,
- you blackguard!” he roared. “<i>Vaya!</i>”
- </p>
- <p>
- Lieutenant Arredondo rose and with dignified mien started for the door.
- Webster followed, and as his visitor reached the portal, a tremendous
- kick, well placed, lifted him down to the sidewalk. Shrieking curses, he
- fled into the night; and John Stuart Webster, with a satisfied feeling
- that something accomplished had earned a night's repose, retired to
- his room and his mauve silk pyjamas, and slept the sleep of a healthy,
- conscience-free man. It did occur to him that the morrow would almost
- certainly bring forth something unpleasant, but that prospect did not
- worry him. John Stuart Webster had a religion all his own, and one of the
- principal tenets of this faith of his was an experience-born conviction
- that to-morrow is always another day.
- </p>
- <p>
- At about the same hour Neddy Jerome, playing solitaire in the Engineers'
- Club in Denver, was the recipient of a cablegram which read:
- </p>
- <p>
- <i>If W. cables accepting reply rejecting account job filled otherwise
- beans spilled. Implicit obedience spells victory.</i>
- </p>
- <p>
- <i>Henrietta.</i>
- </p>
- <p>
- Neddy Jerome wiped his spectacles, adjusted them on his nose and read this
- amazing message once more. “Jumped-up Jehosophat!” he
- murmured. “If she hasn't followed that madcap Webster clear to
- Buenaventura! If she isn't out in earnest to earn her fee, I'm
- an orang-outang! By thunder, that's a smart woman. Evidently she has
- Jack winging; he is willing to return and go to work for me, but for
- reasons of her own she doesn't want him to win too easy a victory.
- Well, I guess she knows her own game better than I do; so I should worry
- how she plays it. 'Implicit obedience spells victory.' Victory
- means that crazy Webster takes the job I offered him. All right! I'll
- be implicitly obedient.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Two hours later Neddy Jerome received another cablegram. It was from John
- Stuart Webster and read as follows:
- </p>
- <p>
- Hold job ninety days at latest may be back before. If satisfactory cable.
- </p>
- <p>
- Again Mr. Jerome had recourse to the most powerful expletive at his
- command. “Henrietta knew he was going to cable and beat the old
- sour-dough to it,” he soliloquized. He was wrapped in profound
- admiration of her cunning for as much as five minutes; then he indicted
- this reply to his victim:
- </p>
- <p>
- <i>Time, tide and good jobs wait for no man. Sorry. Job already filled by
- better man.</i>
- </p>
- <p>
- When John Stuart Webster received that cablegram the following morning, he
- cursed bitterly—not because he had lost the best job that had ever
- been offered him, but because he had lost through playing a good hand
- poorly. He hated himself for his idiocy.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XVIII
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">F</span>OR fully an hour
- after retiring John Stuart Webster slept the deep, untroubled sleep of a
- healthy, unworried man; then one of the many species of “jigger”
- which flourish just north and south of the equator crawled into bed with
- him and promptly proceeded to establish its commissary on the inner flank
- of the Websterian thigh, where the skin is thin and the blood close to the
- surface. As a consequence, Mr. Webster awoke suddenly, obliterated the
- intruder and got out of bed for the purpose of anointing the injured spot
- with alcohol—which being done, an active search of the bed resulted
- in the discovery of three more jiggers and the envelopment of John Stuart
- Webster's soul in the fogs of apprehension. Wide awake, he sat on
- the edge of the bed, massaging his toes and wondering what he should do
- about it. From a contemplation of his own case his mind wandered to
- Dolores Ruey. He wondered if the jiggers were picking on her, too—poor
- girl! Strange that Billy hadn't warned him against these infernal
- insects—probably it was because Billy resided at El Buen Amigo,
- where, for some mysterious reason, the jigger was not.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Tis an evil land, filled with trouble,” he mused as he
- lighted a cigarette. “I wish Bill were here to advise me. He's
- been long enough in this country to know the lay of the ground and all the
- government officials. He ought to be able to straighten this deal out and
- assure the higher-ups that I'm not butting in on their political
- affairs. But Bill's up-country and here I am under surveillance and
- unable to leave the hotel to talk it over with Andrew Bowers, the only
- other white expert I know of in town. And by the way, they're after
- Andrew, too! I wonder what for.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He smoked two more cigarettes, the while he pondered the various visible
- aspects of this dark mess in which he found himself floundering. And
- finally he arrived at a decision. He was well assured that his every
- movement was being watched and reported upon; doubtless the fact that he
- had gone to bed at ten o'clock had already been noted! “These
- chaps aren't thorough, though,” Webster decided. “They'll
- see me safely to bed and pick me up again in the morning—so I'll
- take a chance that the coast is clear, slip out now and talk it over with
- Andrew.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He looked at his watch—eleven-thirty. Hurriedly he dressed, strapped
- on his automatic pistol, dragged his bed noiselessly to the open window
- and tied to the bed-leg the rope he used to lash his trunk; then he
- lowered himself out the window. The length of rope permitted him to
- descend within a few feet of the ground, and he dropped with a light thud
- on to the soft earth of the <i>patio</i>. The thrifty landlord had already
- turned out all the electric lights, and the <i>patio</i> was dark.
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster made his way to the street unnoticed, circled the block, found a
- policeman seated sound asleep on the curb of the narrow sidewalk, woke him
- up and inquired for the Calle de Concordia; and ten minutes later he
- appeared before the entrance of El Buen Amigo just as Mother Jenks was
- barring it for the night.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I am Mr. Webster,” he announced, “—Mr. Geary's
- friend from the United States.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mother Jenks, having heard of him, was of course profoundly flustered to
- meet this toff who so carelessly wired his down-and-out friends <i>pesos
- oro</i> in lots of a thousand. Cordially she invited him within to stow a
- peg of her best, which invitation Mr. Webster promptly accepted.
- </p>
- <p>
- “To your beautiful eyes,” Webster toasted her. “And now
- would you mind leading me to the quarters of Billy's friend Mr.
- Bowers?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mother Jenks looked at him sharply. “Wot's up, sir?” she
- asked.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Blessed if I know, Mrs. Jenks. I've come to find out.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then you've not come a second too soon, sir. 'E's
- leavin' at daylight. I'd better hannounce you, sir.'E's
- particular wot company 'e receives.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She shuffled away, to return presently with the news that Mr. Bowers was
- in his room and would be delighted to receive Mr. Webster. Mother Jenks
- led Webster to the door, knocked, announced him and discreetly withdrew.
- </p>
- <p>
- “My dear Webster!” cried Andrew Bowers enthusiastically, and
- he drew his late fellow-passenger into the room. Webster observed that
- Andrew was not alone. “I want to see you privately,” he said.
- “Didn't know you had company, or I wouldn't have
- intruded.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I knew I had company, didn't I? Come in, you crazy
- fellow, and meet some good friends of mine who are very anxious to meet
- you,” He turned to a tall, handsome, scholarly looking man of about
- forty, whose features, dress, and manner of wearing his whiskers
- proclaimed him a personage. “Dr. Eliseo Pacheco, I have the honour
- to present Mr. John S. Webster, the American gentleman of whom you have
- heard me speak.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Doctor Pacheco promptly leaped to his feet and bowed with ostentatious
- reverence; then suddenly, with Latin impulsiveness, he advanced upon
- Webster, swept aside the latter's outstretched hand, clasped John
- Stuart Webster in fraternal embrace, and to the old sour-dough's
- inexpressible horror, kissed him upon the right cheek—after which he
- backed off, bowed once more, and said in Spanish:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sir, my life is yours.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It is well he gave it to you before you took it,” Andrew said
- in English, and he laughed, noting Webster's confusion. “And
- this gentleman is Colonel Pablo Caraveo.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thunder, I'm in for it again,” Webster thought—and
- he was, for the amiable colonel embraced Webster and kissed his left cheek
- before turning to Andrew.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You will convey to our guest, in English, Don Ricardo, assurances
- of my profound happiness in meeting him,” he said in Spanish.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The Colonel says you're all to the mustard,” Andrew at
- once interpreted merrily.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Rather a liberal translation,” Webster retorted in Spanish,
- whereat Colonel Caraveo sprang up and clapped his hands in delight.
- Evidently he had looked forward with considerable interest to meeting
- Webster and had had his contentment clouded by the thought that Andrew's
- gringo friend could not speak Spanish.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Your happiness, my dear Colonel,” Webster continued, “is
- extravagant grief compared with my delight in meeting a Sobrantean
- gentleman who has no desire to skewer me.” He turned to Andrew.
- “While introductions are in order, old son, suppose you complete the
- job and introduce yourself. I'm always suspicious of a man with an
- alias.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then behold the death of that impudent fellow Andrew Bowers, late
- <i>valet de chambre</i> to this eminent mining engineer and prince of
- gentlemen, Mr. John Stuart Webster. Doctor Pacheco, will you be good
- enough to perform the operation?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “This gentleman,” said the doctor, laying his hand on Andrew's
- shoulder, “is Don Ricardo Luiz Ruey, a gentleman, a patriot, and the
- future president of our unhappy country.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster put his hands on the young man's shoulders. “Ricardo
- my son,” he asked earnestly, “do you think you could give me
- some little hint of the approximate date on which you will assume office?
- By the nine gods of war, I never wanted a friend at court so badly as I
- want one to-night.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Doctor Pacheco, Colonel Caraveo, and Ricardo Ruey exchanged glances and
- laughed heartily. “I must introduce him to Captain Benavides and
- Lieutenant Arredondo,” the Colonel said slyly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What!” Webster was amazed. “You know about it already?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Better than that, friend Webster. We knew about it before it
- happened. That is, we knew it was going to happen,” Ricardo informed
- him. .
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster sat down and helped himself from a box of cigars he found on
- Ricardo's bureau. “I feel I am among friends at last,”
- he announced between preliminary puffs; “so listen while I spin a
- strange tale. I've been the picture of bad luck ever since I started
- for this infernal—this wonderful country of yours. After leaving
- Denver for New Orleans, I came within a whisker of dying of ptomaine
- poisoning. Then in New Orleans I took a Sunday-morning stroll in Jackson
- Square and came across two men trying to knife another. In the interest of
- common decency I interfered and won a sweeping victory, but to my
- amazement the prospective corpse took to his heels and advised me to do
- the same.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Ricardo Ruey sprang for John Stuart Webster. “By George,” he
- said in English, “I'm going to hug you, too. I really ought to
- kiss you, because I'm that man you saved from assassination, but—too
- long in the U.S.A., I suppose; I've lost the customs of my country.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Get out,” yelled Webster, fending him off. “Did you
- lose anything in that fracas?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, a Malacca stick.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Holy Moses! Jack—I'm going to call you Jack—why
- didn't you say something about this while we were on the steamer
- together?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, we played crib' and dominoes most of the way down, when
- I wasn't seasick, and we talked about other things. By the way,
- Ricardo—I'm going to call you Rick for short—do you
- happen to have any relatives in this country?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, a number of second and third cousins. One lot bears the same
- family name.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No relatives in the United States?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Coming down on the steamer, I didn't like to appear curious,
- but all the time I wanted to ask you one question.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ask it now.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Are you a Sobrantean?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I was born in this country and raised here until I was fourteen.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But you're—why, hang it, you're not a Latin?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, I'm a mixture, with Latin predominating. My forbears were
- pure Castilians from Madrid, and crossed the Western Ocean in caravels. It's
- been a matter of pride with the house of Ruey to keep the breed pure, but
- despite all precautions, the family tree has been grafted once with a
- Scotch thistle, twice with the lily of France, and once with the shamrock
- of Ireland. My mother was an Irishwoman.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You alibi yourself perfectly, Ricardo, and my curiosity is
- appeased. Permit me to continue my tale,” he added in Spanish; and
- forthwith he related with humorous detail his adventure at the gangplank
- of the steamer that had borne him and Ricardo Ruey south. Ricardo
- interrupted him. “We know all about that, friend Webster, and we
- knew the two delightful gentlemen had been told off to get you—unofficially.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “How did you find out?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “A leak in the Intelligence Bureau, of which our friend Colonel
- Caraveo is an assistant chief.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Explain,” Webster demanded peremptorily. “Why all this
- intrigue extending to two countries and private individuals?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Certainly. The Sobrantean revolutionary junta has headquarters in
- New Orleans. It is composed of political exiles, for Sarros, the present
- dictator of Sobrante, rules with an iron hand, and has a cute little habit
- of railroading his enemies to the cemetery via the treason charge and the
- firing-squad. Quite a quaint fellow, Sarros! Robs the proletariat and
- spends it on the army with a lavish hand, and so in sheer gratitude they
- keep him in office. Besides, it's a sign of bad luck to oppose him
- at the regular elections. Well, he—he killed my father, who was the
- best president this benighted country ever had, and I consider it my
- Christian duty to avenge my father and a patriotic duty to take up the
- task he left unfinished—the task of making over my country.
- </p>
- <p>
- “In Sobrante, as in most of the countries in Central America, there
- are two distinct classes of people—the aristocrats and peons—and
- the aristocrat fattens on the peon, as he has had a habit of doing since
- Adam. We haven't any middle class to stand as a buffer between the
- two—which makes it a sad proposition. My father was an idealist and
- a dreamer and he dreamed of reform in government and a solution of the
- agrarian problem which confronts all Latin-America. Moreover, he trusted
- the common people—and one should not trust this generation of peons.
- We must have fifty years of education—free and compulsory—first.
- </p>
- <p>
- “My father headed a revolution that was brief and practically
- bloodless, and the better to do the task he had set himself, he created a
- dictatorship with himself as dictator—this because he was shy on
- good cabinet and legislative material, the kind he could trust to play
- fair with the people.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Ricardo paused. “You are interested in all this, my friend?”
- he asked.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It has an old, familiar sound, but crack along.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “My father, being human, erred. He trusted one Pablo Sarros, an
- educated peon, who had commanded the government forces under the regime my
- father overthrew. My tender-hearted parent discovered that Sarros was
- plotting to overthrow him; but instead of having him shot, he merely
- removed him from command. Sarros gathered a handful of bandits, joined
- with the old government forces my father had conquered, hired a couple
- dozen Yankee artillerymen and—he won out. My father was captured and
- executed; the palace was burned, and my sister perished in the flames. I'm
- here to pay off the score.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “A worthy ambition! So you organized the revolutionary junta in New
- Orleans, eh?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Ricardo nodded. “Word of it reached Sarros, and he sent his brother
- Raoul, chief of the Intelligence Bureau, to investigate and report. As
- fast as he reported, Colonel Caraveo reported to me. Sarros and his gang
- are just a little bit afraid of me, because he's about as popular
- with the people as a typhus epidemic, and strange to say, this curiously
- mercurial people have not forgotten the brief reign of his predecessor. My
- father's son possesses a name to conjure with. Consequently it was
- to the interest of the Sarros administration that I be eliminated. They
- watched every boat; hence my scheme for eluding their vigilance—which,
- thanks to you, worked like a charm.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But,” Webster complained, “I'm not sitting in the
- game at all, and yet I'm caught between the upper and nether
- millstones.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That is easy to explain. You interfered that morning in Jackson
- Square; then Raoul Sarros met you going aboard the steamer for
- Buenaventura and you manhandled him; and naturally, putting two and two
- together, he has concluded that you are not only his personal enemy but
- also a friend and protector of mine and consequently an enemy of the
- state.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And as a consequence I'm marked for slaughter?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “The first plan considered,” said Colonel Càraveo, gravely,
- “was for Captain Benavides, who is an expert swordsman and a
- marvellous pistol-shot, to pick a quarrel with you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No hope, Colonel. I manhandled 'em both and declined to fight
- on their terms. I suppose now I'll just naturally be assassinated.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It would be well, my friend,” Doctor Pacheco suggested,
- “to return to the United States until after Ricardo and his friends
- have eliminated your Nemesis.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “How soon will that happy event transpire?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “In about sixty days we hope to be ready to strike, Mr. Webster.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “We are recruiting our men secretly,” Ricardo explained.
- “Our base is back in the hills beyond San Miguel de Padua. I'm
- going up there to-morrow.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I was going up to San Miguel de Padua in a day or two myself, Rick,
- but I'll be hanged if I know what to do now. I'm beginning to
- worry—and that's a new experience with me.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Colonel Caraveo cleared his throat. “I understand from Ricardo that
- you and another American are interested in a mining concession, Mr.
- Webster.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster nodded.
- </p>
- <p>
- Al-*~
- </p>
- <p>
- “Is this a private landholder, or did your friend secure it from the
- Sarros government?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “From the government. We pay ten per cent, royalty, on a
- ninety-nine-year lease, and that's all I know about it. I have never
- seen the property, and my object in coming was to examine it and, if
- satisfied, finance the project.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “If you will return to your hotel, my dear sir,” Colonel
- Caraveo suggested, “and remain there until noon to-morrow, I feel
- confident I can guarantee you immunity from attack thereafter. I have a
- plan to influence my associates in the Intelligence Office.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Bully for you, Colonel. Give me sixty days in which to operate, and
- I'll have finished my job in Sobrante and gotten out of it before
- that gang of cutthroats wakes up to the fact that I'm gone. I thank
- you, sir.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “The least we can do, since you have saved Ricardo's life and
- rendered our cause a great service, is to save your life,” Colonel
- Caraveo replied.
- </p>
- <p>
- “This is more comfort than I had hoped for when I came here,
- gentlemen. I am very grateful, I assure you. Of course this little
- revolution you're cooking up is no affair of mine, and I trust I
- need not assure you that your confidence is quite safe with me.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Doctor and the Colonel immediately rose and bowed like a pair of
- marionettes. Webster turned to Ricardo.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Have you had any experience in revolutions, my son?” he
- asked.
- </p>
- <p>
- Ricardo nodded. “I realized I had to have experience, and so I went
- to Mexico. I was with Madero through the first revolution.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “How are you arming your men?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mannlichers. I've got five thousand of them. Cost me twelve
- dollars each. I've got twenty million rounds of cartridges,
- twenty-five machine-guns, and a dozen three-inch field-guns. I have also
- engaged two hundred American ex-soldiers to handle the machine-guns and
- the battery. These rascals cost me five dollars a day gold, but they're
- worth it; they like fighting and will go anywhere to get it—and are
- faithful.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You are secretly mobilizing in the mountains, eh?” Webster
- rubbed his chin ruminatively. “Then I take it you'll attack
- Buenaventura when you strike the first blow?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Quite right. We must capture a seaport if we are to revolute
- successfully.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm glad to know that. I'll make it my business to be
- up in the mountains at the time. I'm for peace, every rattle out of
- the box. Gentlemen, you've cheered me wonderfully. I will now go
- home and leave you to your evil machinations; and, the good Lord and the
- jiggers willing, I shall yet glean a night's sleep.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He shook hands all around and took his departure. Mother Jenks was waiting
- for Webster at the foot of the stairs. He paused on the threshold.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mrs. Jenks,” he said, “Billy tells me you have been
- very kind to him. I want to tell you how much I appreciate it and that I
- stand willing to reciprocate any time you are in need.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mother Jenks fingered her beard and reflected. “'Ave you met
- Miss Dolores Ruey, sir?” she queried.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Your ward? Yes.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Ow does the lamb strike you, Mr. Webster?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have never met many women; I have known few intimately; but I
- should say that Miss Dolores Ruey is the marvel of her sex. She is as
- beautiful as she is good, as good as she is intelligent, and as
- intelligent as she can be.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “She's a lydy, sir,” Mother Jenks affirmed proudly.
- “An' I done it. You can see with arf a heye wot I am, but for
- all that, I've done my dooty by her. From the day my sainted 'Enery—
- 'e was a colonel o' hartillery under President Ruey, Dolores's
- father—hescaped from the burnin' palace with 'er an'
- told me to raise 'er a lydy for the syke of her father, as was the
- finest gentleman this rotten country 'll ever see, she's been
- my guidin' star. She's self-supportin' now, but still I
- ain't done my whole dooty by her. I want to see 'er married to
- a gentleman as 'll maintain 'er like a lydy.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, Mrs. Jenks, I think you will live to see that worthy
- ambition, attained. Mr. Geary is head over heels in love with her.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Aye. Willie's a nice lad—I could wish no better; but
- wot 'e's got 'e got from you, an' where'll
- 'e be if 'is mine doesn't p'y big? Now, with you,
- sir, it's different. You're a bit oldern' Billy, an'
- more settled an' serious; you've made yer fortune, so Willie
- tells me, an', not to go beatin' about the bally bush, I s'y,
- wot's the matter with you an' her steppin' over the
- broomstick together? You might go a bloomin' sight farther an'
- fare wuss.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Too old, my dear schemer, too old!” John Stuart replied
- smilingly. “And she's in love with Billy. Don't worry.
- If he doesn't make a go of this mining concession, I'll take
- care of his finances until he can do so himself. I do not mind telling
- you, in strictest confidence, that I have made my will and divided my
- money equally between them.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Gord bless you, for a sweet, kind gentleman,” Mother Jenks
- gulped, quite overcome with emotion.
- </p>
- <p>
- Hastily Webster bade Mother Jenks good-night and hurried away to escape a
- discussion on such a delicate topic with Billy's blunt and
- single-minded landlady. His mind was in a tumult. So it was that he paid
- no attention to a vehicle that jogged by him with the <i>cochero</i>
- sagging low in his seat, half asleep over the reins, until a quick command
- from the closed interior brought the vehicle to an abrupt halt, half a
- block in advance of Webster.
- </p>
- <p>
- Save for an arc-light at each end of the block, the Calle de Concordia was
- dim; save for Webster, the carriage and the two men who piled hurriedly
- out at the rear of the conveyance, the Calle de Concordia was devoid of
- life. Webster saw one of the men hurriedly toss a coin to the <i>cochero</i>;
- with a fervent “<i>Gracias, mi capitan</i>,” the driver
- clucked to his horse, turned the corner into the Calle Elizondo and
- disappeared, leaving his late passengers facing Webster and calmly
- awaiting his approach. He was within twenty feet of them when the taller
- of the two men spoke.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good evening, my American friend. This meeting is a pleasure we
- scarcely hoped to have so soon. For the same we are indebted to Lieutenant
- Arredondo, who happened to look back as we passed you, and recognized you
- under the arc-light.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster halted abruptly; the two Sobrantean officers stood smiling and
- evidently enjoying his discomfort. Each carried a service revolver in a
- closed holster fastened to his sword-belt, but neither had as yet made a
- move to draw—seeing which, Webster felt sufficiently reassured to
- accept the unwelcome situation with a grace equal to that of his enemies.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What? You two bad little boys up this late! I'm surprised,”
- he replied in Spanish. He folded his arms, struck an attitude and surveyed
- them as might an indignant father. “You kids have been up to some
- mischief,” he added, as his right hand closed over the butt of his
- automatic, where it lay snuggled in the open bolster under his left arm
- between his shirt and coat. “Can it be possible you are going to
- take advantage of superior numbers and the fact that you are both armed,
- to force me into a duel on your terms, my dear Captain Benavides?”
- </p>
- <p>
- By a deferential bow, the unwholesome Benavides indicated that such were
- his intentions. “Then,” said Webster, “as the challenged
- party I have the choice of weapons. I choose pistols.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “At what range?” the Lieutenant asked with mock interest.
- </p>
- <p>
- “As we stand at present. I'm armed. Pull your hardware, you
- pretty pair of polecats, and see if you can beat me to the draw.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Captain Benavides's jaw dropped slightly; with a quiet, deliberate
- motion his hand stole to his holster-flap. Lieutenant Arredondo wet his
- lips and glanced so apprehensively at his companion that Webster was aware
- that here was a situation not to his liking.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You should use an open holster,” Webster taunted. “Come,
- come—unbutton that holster-flap and get busy.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Benavides's hand came away from the holster. He was not the least
- bit frightened, but his sense of proportion in matters of this kind was
- undergoing a shake-up.
- </p>
- <p>
- “In disposing of any enemy in a gun fight, so a professional killer
- once informed me,” Webster continued, “it is a good plan to
- put your first bullet anywhere in the abdomen; the shock of a bullet there
- paralyzes your opponent for a few seconds and prevents him from returning
- the compliment, and in the interim you blow his brains out while he lies
- looking at you. I have never had any practical experience in matters of
- this kind, but I don't mind telling you that if I <i>must</i>
- practise on somebody, the good Lord could not have provided two more
- delightful subjects.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He ceased speaking, and for nearly half a minute the three men appraised
- each other. Benavides was smiling slightly; Arredondo was fidgeting;
- Webster's glance never faltered from the Captain's nervous
- hand.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You would be very foolish to draw,” Webster then assured
- Benavides. “If I am forced to kill you, it will be with profound
- regret. Suppose you two dear, sweet children run along home and think this
- thing over. You may change your mind by to-morrow morn——”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Captain's hand, with the speed of a juggler's, had flown
- to his holster; but quick as he was, Webster was a split-second quicker.
- The sound of his shot roared through the silent <i>calle</i>, and
- Benavides, with his pistol half drawn, lifted a bloody, shattered hand
- from the butt as Webster's automatic swept in a swift arc and
- covered Arredondo, whose arms on the instant went skyward.
- </p>
- <p>
- “That wasn't a half-bad duel,” Webster remarked coldly.
- “Are you not obliged to me, Captain, for not blowing your brains out—for
- disregarding my finer instincts and refraining from shooting you first
- through the abdomen? Bless you, my boy, I've been stuck for years in
- places where the only sport consisted in seeing who could take a revolver,
- shoot at a tin can and roll it farthest in three seconds. Let me see your
- hand.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Benavides sullenly held up that dripping member, and Webster inspected it
- at a respectful distance. “Steel-jacket bullet,” he informed
- the wounded man. “Small hole—didn't do much damage. You'll
- be just as well as ever in a month.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He helped himself to Arredondo's gun, flipped out the cylinder, and
- slipped all six cartridges into his palm. Similarly he disarmed Benavides,
- expressed his regret that circumstances had rendered it imperative to use
- force, and strolled blithely down the <i>calle</i>. In the darkened <i>patio</i>
- he groped along the wall until he found the swinging rope by which he had
- descended from his room—whereupon he removed his shoes, tied the
- laces together, slung them around his neck, dug his toes into the adobe
- wall and climbed briskly to his room.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XIX
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE next morning
- Webster waited until Dolores appeared and then accompanied her into the
- dining room for breakfast.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, how did you pass your first night in Buenaventura?” she
- inquired, in the manufacture of breakfast conversation.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not very well. Jiggers bit me and woke me up, and finally I fell
- into a trance and had a vision—about you. After that I couldn't
- get to sleep again. I was fairly bursting to see you at breakfast and read
- your palm. I've just discovered a wonderful system.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Show me,” she flashed back at him, and she extended her
- little hand. He picked it up gravely and with the dull tine of a fork made
- a great show of tracing the lines on her palm.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You are about twenty-four years old, and your ancestors were
- pure-bred Castilians who came from Madrid, crossing the Atlantic in
- caravels. Ever since the first Ruey landed on this coast the family has
- been identified with the government of the country in one way or another.
- Also, Scotch, French, and Irish blood has been infused into the tribe;
- your mother was an Irish woman. When you were quite a little girl, your
- father, Don Ricardo Ruey, at that time president of Sobrante, failed to
- suppress a revolution and was cornered in the government palace, which was
- set afire.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Through the bravery and devotion of a cockney gentleman, Colonel
- Henry Jenks, an artillery officer in your father's army, you were
- saved from perishing in the burning palace. Colonel Jenks turned you over
- to his spouse, now known as Mother Jenks, with instructions to raise you a
- lydy, and Mother Jenks has carried out those instructions. Colonel Jenks
- and your father were executed, and Mother Jenks sent you to the United
- States to be educated. You had a brother, Ricardo Luis Ruey, older than
- yourself by seven or eight years, I should judge. In some mysterious
- manner you and your brother lost track of each other, and at the present
- moment he believes you perished in the flames that gutted the government
- palace.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You are of a proud, independent nature; you work at something for a
- living, and inasmuch as you haven't been able to set aside a great
- deal of money from your earnings, you are planning to terminate your visit
- to your native land at an early date and return to the United States for
- the purpose of getting back to work. These plans, however, will never be
- consummated.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why? Because you are to be married to a nice man and live happily
- ever afterward; and about sixty days from now, if all goes well, I, John
- S. Webster, am going to introduce you to your long-lost brother Ricarda
- You will first see Ricardo riding at the head of his victorious rebel
- troops as he enters Buenaventura. He will be the next president of this
- wretched country, if, fortunately, he is not killed in the revolution he
- is now fomenting against his father's ancient enemy. Your brother
- does not know you are living, and it will be a proud and happy day for me
- when I bring him to you. In the interim, what do you purpose having for
- breakfast? Ham and eggs sunny side up, an omelette or a cereal?”
- </p>
- <p>
- He released her hand and favoured her with the boyish grin that always had
- the effect of stripping the years from him as one strips the husk from a
- ripe ear of com. She was gazing at him in wide-eyed amazement.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, don't doubt me,” he pleaded. “It will all
- come out just as I have told you. Of course, I don't go in for
- telling fortunes very often; I'm a slow old horse to start, but once
- I sneak into the collar, something has to give.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Is my brother really alive?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He was as late as midnight last night. Do you recall the chap I
- saved from being assassinated in New Orleans?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Your worthy brother. And do you recall the chauffeur whose passage
- to this port I was forced to pay?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “The same individual. I sent him ashore in the launch with Billy,
- and he has been housed at El Buen Amigo, but left early this morning for
- the back-country to open a recruiting office.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And you have known this all along and wouldn't tell me?”
- she reproved him.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Didn't discover it until after I had left him last night;
- then I put two and two together and made four.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, I can hardly believe it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I never lie.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Never?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I mean on serious matters. And you needn't cry about it, Miss
- Ruey. I do not purpose being the bearer of welcome news and having my
- breakfast ruined for my reward.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She reached across the little table and squeezed his big brown hand
- impulsively. “You're the most wonderful man I ever knew. And
- does my poor brother know I am living, Mr. Webster?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No—and I'm not going to tell him. I think it will be
- much nicer to restore you to each other on the steps of the government
- palace on the day when the Ruey faction comes into its own again. That
- will make his victory all the sweeter. I am the innocent bystander who
- started this little drama, and by jingo, I want to finish it. Why, it has
- been years and years since I've had any real sport.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You're so kind!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not at all. My discovery of your brother was as accidental as
- falling downstairs.” And he related to her his interview with
- Ricardo, whose statements, when compared with the information gleaned from
- Mother Jenks, had proved so illuminating. “By the way,” he
- continued, “where was Ricardo when your father's ship of state
- went on the rocks?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “At school in a military academy in Kentucky. At least, so I was
- informed by my cousins here shortly after my arrival, and prior to losing
- caste with them because of my association, unchaperoned, with Billy.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It is a marvellous mix-up, which Ricardo can doubtless explain,
- Miss Ruey. I know he believes his sister perished with her father; Mother
- Jenks didn't know where he was and couldn't communicate with
- him—and there you are. However, little old Jack Fix-it will bring
- you together again in due course. In the interim, how about those eggs?
- Straight up—or flip 'em?”
- </p>
- <p>
- She beamed across at him. “We are going to be such good, true
- friends, aren't we?” she urged. He almost shivered, but
- managed a hypocritical nod. “While we have only known each other
- twenty-four hours, it seems a great deal longer than that—probably
- because Billy has told me so much about you, and you're—so
- comfortable and easy to get acquainted with, and I—I can't
- very well express my gratitude for what you've done—for what
- you're going to do.” Her voice faltered; she smiled roguishly
- through the tears of her emotion. “If I were only Billy, now, I
- could put my arm across your shoulders and settle the matter by saying:
- 'Johnny, you old horsethief, you're all right.'”
- </p>
- <p>
- “The best thing to do would be to cease puffing me up with
- importance. And now, before we climb out of the realm of romance and the
- improbable to the more substantial plane of things for breakfast, just one
- brief word of caution. Now that I have told you your brother lives and is
- in Buenaventura, forget it until I mention it again, because his presence
- here is his secret, not ours.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right, Caliph,” she agreed. “I think I shall call
- you that hereafter. Like the late Caliph Haroun A! Raschid, it appears you
- have a habit of prowling around o' nights in queer places, doing
- good deeds for your subjects. But tell me about my brother. Describe him
- to me.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not now. Here comes the head waiter with a cablegram for me, I
- think.”
- </p>
- <p>
- That functionary came to their table and handed one of the familiar yellow
- envelopes to each of them.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We'll excuse each other,” Dolores suggested. She read:
- </p>
- <p>
- Go you if I lose. I like you fine.
- </p>
- <p>
- You are a good, game little scout, and Jerome.
- </p>
- <p>
- She glanced across at Webster, whose face was a conflicting study of
- emotions in which disappointment and amazement appeared to predominate.
- “You ancient scoundrel,” she heard him murmur.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What ho, Caliph! Unpleasant news?” she ventured.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes—and no. I had one of the finest jobs in the world all
- staked out—and now the boss cables me it's filled—by a
- better man.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What are you going to do about it?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well—as soon as I've had my breakfast, I'm going
- to cable Neddy Jerome and tell him I'm satisfied—satisfied to
- stay here and satisfied he's a liar. You see, Miss Ruey, he objected
- vigorously to my coming here in the first place—wanted me to take a
- thirty-day vacation and then manage the Colorado Consolidated Mines
- Company, Limited, for him. I like Neddy and would have been glad to go to
- work for his company, but of course Billy comes first, and so I declined
- the offer. Later I changed my mind, and last night I cabled him I'd
- accept if he'd wait sixty days—possibly ninety; and now he
- replies that he's sorry, but the job is filled by a better man. That's
- why I know he's a liar.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I see. You figure there isn't a better mining engineer than
- you—eh, Caliph?”
- </p>
- <p>
- He looked at her reproachfully. “No, but Neddy Jerome does, and I
- know he does because he has taken the trouble to tell me so more than
- once. And as a rule Neddy inclines toward the truth. However, it's
- just as well——” He paused, staring hard at her. “By
- the way, you foretold this! Why, this is amazing.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She could now have wept with laughter. “Well”—soberly—“I
- told you some other things equally amazing, did I not?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, you told me other things more or less interesting, but you <i>fore</i>told
- this. How do you account for that?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “The witness declines to answer, on the ground that she may
- incriminate herself and be burned for a witch.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Remarkable woman!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You were about to remark that it is just as well——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That Neddy's reconciled to losing me, because since cabling
- him yesterday evening I've changed my mind again. I'm going to
- stay here now.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Indeed! Why?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Just to be obstinate. Apparently I'm not wanted here by the
- powers that be; so just to rile them I'm going to hang around
- Sobrante the way Grant hung around Richmond and argue the question with
- them. By the way, I see you received a cablegram also. Better news than
- mine, I hope.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She nodded. “I have a little business deal on back home. Haven't
- got a great deal invested, but it looks as if I might make ten thousand
- dollars.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He arched his eyebrows and favoured her with a little disapproving grunt.
- Sounded like the prospectus of a fake mining promoter—yes, by
- thunder, that was it. Dolores was a school teacher, and school teachers
- and doctors are ever the mainstay of a swindler's sucker list.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You won ten dollars from me yesterday,” he challenged.
- “Bet you another ten I can tell you the nature of your investment.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Go you, if I lose!” Unconsciously she was learning the argot
- of the male of the species, as exemplified in Neddy Jerome's
- cablegram.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It's a mining property.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You win. It is,” she answered truthfully, starting to open
- her purse.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Quartz or placer?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don't know. Explain.” *
- </p>
- <p>
- He chuckled at her ignorance. “Quartz is goldbearing rock, and
- placer is gold-bearing gravel.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then my mining property is placer, because it has lots of sand.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I knew it, I knew it,” he warned her solemnly, and he shook
- an admonitory finger at her. “Black sand, eh? Is the gold very fine?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I think it is.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then you're stung good and deep—so don't delude
- yourself into thinking you have ten thousand dollars coming. I never knew
- a proposition for saving the fine gold in black sand that didn't
- turn out to be a fizzle. It's the hardest thing in the world to
- save. Now, listen: You tell me the name of the flim-flam artist that got
- you into this deal, and when I get back to the United States I'll
- investigate the company; if it's an out-and-out swindle, I'll
- take that promoter by the throat and choke your money out of him, the
- scoundrel! It is just these fly-by-night fellows that ruin the finest
- gambling game in the world and scare off investors in legitimate mining
- propositions.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, you mustn't—really, Caliph. He's an old man,
- and I only did it to help him out.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “There should be no sentiment in business, Miss Ruey.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, well, let's be cheerful and hopeful, Caliph, and discuss
- a more important subject.” She was very serious now, for by her
- meddling she had, she realized, so arranged matters that at a time when
- John Stuart Webster's very life depended upon his immediate
- departure from Buenaventura, he was planning to stay and face the music,
- just to be obstinate. “You must reconsider your latest decision to
- remain in this country,” she insisted. “Your life may be the
- price of liberty of action, you know.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Give me liberty or give me death,'” quoted
- Webster.
- </p>
- <p>
- “But isn't Billy capable of developing the mine after you
- advance the cash?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I wouldn't advance him a cent for his mine until I had
- investigated it myself.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then you should make some arrangements to safeguard yourself while
- making the investigation, and leave Sobrante immediately thereafter. Isn't
- that a sensible proposition?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Very—if I felt like leaving Sobrante. But I do not. If that
- mining concession is a potential winner, I'll have to stick around
- and make a winner out of it before I go away and leave Bill in charge.
- Besides, I'm worried about Bill. He's full of malarial fever,
- and last night I got thinking about him and decided to send him back to
- the Colorado mountains for a few months. This country is going to be in
- the throes of a revolution; the chances are we will not be able to do much
- with our property until the war is over, and I will be able to do that
- little. I want some regular doctors to work on Bill so he'll be fit
- when he gets back on the job.”
- </p>
- <p>
- As a matter of fact, this idea of sending Billy to the United States had
- but that moment occurred to Jack Webster; he reflected now that this plan
- was little short of an inspiration. It would give Billy and Dolores an
- opportunity to marry and have a honeymoon; it would leave him free of her
- disturbing presence, and enable him to leave Sobrante when the Gearys
- should return. He resolved to speak to Billy about it.
- </p>
- <p>
- Dolores's voice broke in upon his cunning reflections. “But
- Billy tells me you already have a fortune sufficient for the needs of a
- caliph without a court. Why risk your precious life to acquire more? Money
- isn't everything in life.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, but the game is.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What game? Mining?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “The game of life.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But this is the game of death.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Which makes life all the sweeter if I can beat the game. Perhaps I
- can better illustrate my point of view with a story. Some years ago I was
- sent to Arizona to examine a mining property and report upon it; if I
- advised its purchase, my principals were prepared to buy at my valuation.
- Well, when I arrived, I found a miserable shanty close to a shaft and
- dump, and in the shanty I found a weatherbeaten couple. The woman was
- probably forty but looked fifty. The man had never been anything but a
- hard-rock miner—four dollars a day had been the limit of his
- earnings in any one day until he stumbled on some float, traced it up, and
- located the claims I was there to examine and try to buy.
- </p>
- <p>
- “His wife had been a miner's daughter, knowing nothing but
- drudgery and poverty and continuing that existence after marriage. For
- twenty years she had been darning her husband's socks, washing his
- clothes, and cooking his meals. Even after they uncovered the ledge, it
- wasn't worth any more than the country rock to them unless they
- could sell it, because the man had neither the money nor the ability to
- develop it himself. He even lacked the ability to sell it, because it
- requires real ability to unload any kind of a mine for a million dollars,
- and real nerve on the part of the man who buys. I examined the mine,
- decided it was cheap at a million dollars, and so reported to my
- principals. They wired me to close, and so I took a sixty-day option in
- order to verify the title.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, time passed, and one bright day I rode up to that shanty with
- a deed and a certified check for a million dollars in my pocket; whereupon
- I discovered the woman had had a change of heart and bucked over the
- traces. No, siree! She would not sign that there deed—and inasmuch
- as the claim was community property, her signature was vitally necessary.
- She asked me so many questions, however, as to the size of the stamp mill
- we would install and how many miners would be employed on the job, that
- finally I saw the light and tried a shot in the dark. 'My dear Mrs.
- Skaggs,' I said, 'if you'll sign this deed and save us
- all a lot of litigation over this option you and your husband have given
- me, I'll do something handsome. I will—on my word of honour—I'll
- give you the exclusive boarding-house privilege at this mine.'”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And what did she say, Caliph?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “She said: 'Give me the pen, Mr. Webster, and please excuse my
- handwriting; I'm that nervous in business matters.'”
- </p>
- <p>
- Dolores's silvery laughter rippled through the room. “But I
- don't see the point,” she protested.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We will come to it presently. I was merely explaining one person's
- point of view. You would not, of course, expect me to have the same point
- of view as Mrs. Skaggs, of Arizona.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Certainly not.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right! Listen to this! In 1907, at the height of the boom times
- in Goldfield, Nevada, I was worth a million dollars. On the first day of
- October I could have cashed in my mining stocks for a million—and I
- had a lot of cash in bank, too. But I'd always worked so hard and
- been poor so long that my wealth didn't mean anything to me. I
- wanted the exclusive privilege of more slavery, and so I staked a copper
- prospect, which later I discovered to consist of uncounted acres of
- country rock and about twenty-five dollars' worth of copper stain.
- In order to save a hundred dollars I did my own assessment work, drove a
- pick into my foot, developed blood-poison, went to the hospital, and was
- nice and helpless when the panic came along the middle of the month. The
- bank went bust, and my ready cash went with it; I couldn't give my
- mining stocks away. Everybody knew I was a pauper—everybody but the
- doctor. He persisted in regarding me as a millionaire and sent me a bill
- for five thousand dollars.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “How perfectly outrageous! Why, Caliph, I would have let him sue me.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I would have, too—but I didn't. I induced him to settle
- for one hundred thousand shares of stock in my copper prospect. The par
- value was a dollar a share, and I was going to sell a block at ten cents,
- but in view of his high professional standing I let him have it for a
- nickel a share. I imagine he still has it. I bought back later all the
- other stock I sold, because the property was worthless, and in order to be
- a sport I offered him five hundred dollars for his block, but he thought I
- was trying to swindle him and asked five thousand.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, Caliph!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Wonderful game, isn't it—this game of life. So sweet
- when a fellow's taking chances! Now that I am fairly prosperous
- again, the only thing in life that really matters is the uncertainty as to
- whether, when finally I do leave Sobrante, I shall ride to the steamship
- landing in a hack or a hearse.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But you could go in a hack this morning and avoid that uncertainty.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “The millionaire drudge I told you of could have gone to five in a
- pretty villa on the Riviera, but she chose a miner's boarding-house.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then why,” she persisted, “did you leave the United
- States with the firm intention of remaining in Sobrante indefinitely,
- change your mind before you were here eight hours, and cable this Neddy
- Jerome person you would return in sixty or ninety days—and the
- following morning decide to remain, after all!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “My dear young lady, if I changed my clothes as often as I change my
- mind, the what-you-may-call-'em chaps that manufacture Society Brand
- clothes couldn't keep me dressed.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But why?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That,” he answered gravely, “is a secret.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Women delight to pry into men's secrets.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I know it. Had a friend once—married. Every night after
- dinner he used to sit and stare into the fire and his wife used to ask him
- what he was thinking about. He would look up at her owlishly and tell her
- it was something he couldn't explain to her, because she'd
- never understand it—and that was all he would tell her, although
- right frequently, I dare say, he felt like telling her something she could
- understand! She brooded over his secret until she couldn^t stand it any
- more, and one day she packed her duds and flew home to mother. He let her
- stay there three months, and finally one day he sent her a blueprint of
- what he'd been thinking about.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What was it?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “An internal-combustion engine. You see, until she left him, he'd
- never been able to get set to figure out something in connection with the
- inlet valves——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Stop right there, Caliph. I'm rebuked. I'll let you get
- set to think——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I didn't mean that. You let me get set yesterday—and I
- figured it all out then—and last night—and a minute ago. I don't
- care to do any more thinking to-day. Please talk to me.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And you refuse to tell me why you cabled your friend Jerome?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You will never know. I told you it's a secret.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Bet you I find out.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “How much? That ten thousand dollars you expect to make from the
- flour-gold in your black-sand claim? And by the way, ten dollars, please.
- I won it for guessing you were interested in a mining proposition.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She returned to him the bill she had won from him the day before. “Ten
- thousand dollars suits me. Of course I haven't got the money just
- now, and this is what Billy calls a finger-bet, but if I lose, I guarantee
- to pay. Are we betting even money? I think that is scarcely fair. Under
- the circumstances I should be entitled to odds.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Nothing doing! No odds on a bet of this nature to a seeress who has
- already jarred me from soul to vermiform appendix by making good! You know
- too blamed much already, and how you discovered, it is a problem that may
- drive me crazy yet.”
- </p>
- <p>
- After breakfast they repaired to the veranda to await the result of
- Webster's experiment with Don Juan Cafetéro. Sure enough, the wreck
- had again returned; he was seated on the edge of the veranda waiting for
- them; as they approached, he held up a grimy, quivering hand, in the palm
- of which lay—a five-dollar gold-piece.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What?” Mr. Webster said, amazed. “Still unchanged!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I thried to change it at half a dozen <i>cantinas</i>,” Don
- Juan wheezed, “but divil a bit av systim did any av thim have. Wan
- offered this in spiggoty money an' the other offered that, an'
- sure if I'd taken the best that was offered me in exchange, ye might
- have t'ought I'd tuk more nor wan dhrink.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Bravo! Three long, loud, raucous cheers for Don Juan Cafetéro!”
- Dolores cried. “That's just exactly what he expected you to
- do, Don Juan.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Give a dog a bad name, an' 'twill shtick to him,”
- the derelict replied resignedly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Was it a terrible task to come back without a drink, Don Juan?”
- </p>
- <p>
- He shivered. “A shky-blue kangaroo wit' a pink tail an'
- green ears chased me into this <i>patio</i>, ma'am.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You're very brave, Cafferty. How does it feel to win back
- your self-respect?” Webster asked him.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Beggin' the young leddy's pardon—it feels like
- hell, sor.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Caliph, don't be cruel,” Dolores pleaded. “Call a
- waiter and give Don Juan what you promised him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- So Webster went into the hotel bar and returned presently with a bottle of
- brandy and a glass, which he filled and held out toward Don Juan. “One
- of the paradoxes of existence, Don Juan,” he observed, “lies
- in the fact that so many of the things in life that are good for us are
- bad for us. This jolt will disperse the menagerie and quiet your nerves,
- but nevertheless it is a nail in your coffin.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Don Juan proved himself a true Hibernian soldier of misfortune by jesting
- under fire. “Whilst ye have the hammer in yer hand, sor, dhrive in
- another,” he pleaded. Webster declined, however, and returned the
- bottle to the bar, where he had it marked for Don Juan and set aside, for
- it was his opinion, evolved from a vast experience with hard-drinking
- miners, that the only cure for poor, diseased Don Juan lay in a judicious
- application of hair from the dog that had bitten him.
- </p>
- <p>
- “And this is another reason why I must stay here longer than I
- intended,” he said softly to Dolores, indicating Don Juan with his
- thumb. “He's just about ready to be poured back into the
- bottle, and I'm going to see if I cannot restore him to his original
- solid state. Experiments in chemistry always did fascinate me.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He bade her adieu, and accompanied by his protégé, strolled uptown on a
- shopping tour. Here he outfitted Don Juan neatly but not gaudily and added
- to his own personal effects two high-power sporting rifles, three
- large-calibre automatic pistols, and a plentiful supply of ammunition—after
- which he returned to the hotel, first having conducted Don Juan to a
- barber shop and given him instructions to report for orders and his midday
- drink the instant he should have acquired the outward evidences of
- respectability.
- </p>
- <p>
- At the hotel Webster found two messages awaiting him. One was from Billy
- Geary, up at San Miguel de Padua, advising him that everything was in
- readiness for a trip to the mine; the other was a note from Ricardo Ruey,
- but signed with his alias of Andrew Bowers. Webster read:
- </p>
- <p>
- My Dear Friend:
- </p>
- <p>
- Permit me to congratulate you on your marksmanship last night and to
- commend your forbearance in winging a gent where killing was not only
- justified but to be encouraged. You have, so I am authoritatively
- informed, completely buffaloed your two gentlemen. They cannot, in our own
- classical English, “quite make you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- However, this letter is not all gossip. A certain higher-up has at length
- been convinced that it would be extremely inadvisable to eliminate you
- now. It has been pointed out to this person that you are a prom. cit. up
- in your neck of the woods and dangerous to monkey with—personally
- and because such monkeying may lead to unpleasant complications with your
- paternal government. A far more artistic and effective way of raising hell
- with you has been suggested to this higher-up individual, and he has
- accepted it. Indeed, the plan pleased him so much that he laughed quite
- heartily. Really, it is quite diabolical, but remember, he who laughs last
- laughs best—and I'm the villain in this sketch.
- </p>
- <p>
- Barring accidents, my dear Webster, you are good for at least six weeks of
- existence. Beyond that I dare not guarantee you.
- </p>
- <p>
- Thine,
- </p>
- <p>
- Andrew Bowers.
- </p>
- <p>
- “That makes it nice,” the recipient of this comforting
- communication soliloquized. He went up to his room, packed a duffle-bag
- with such belongings as he would find necessary during a prolonged stay in
- the mountains, and at luncheon was fortunate enough to find Dolores in the
- dining room when he entered. Again she motioned him to the vacant chair
- opposite to her.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm going up to San Miguel de Padua this afternoon,” he
- announced as he took his seat. A look of extreme anxiety clouded her
- lovely face, and he noticed it. “Oh, there's no risk,”
- he hastened to assure her. “That scamp of a brother of yours,
- through his friends in high places, has managed to get me a reprieve.”
- He handed her Ricardo's letter.
- </p>
- <p>
- She looked up, much relieved, from her perusal. “And how long do you
- expect to be gone, Caliph?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Quite a while. I'll be busy around that dratted concession
- for a couple of weeks, surveying and assaying and what-all; then, while
- waiting for our machinery and supplies to arrive from the United States, I
- shall devote my spare time to hunting and fishing and reforming Don Juan
- Cafetéro. The cool hills for mine.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What a selfish, unsociable programme!” she reflected. “I
- wonder if it will occur to him to come down here once in a while and take
- me for a drive on the Malecon and talk to me to keep me from dying of
- ennui before I meet Ricardo. I'll wait and see if he suggests it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- However, for reasons best known to himself and the reader, Mr. Webster
- made no such interesting suggestion; so she decided that while he was
- tremendously nice, he was, nevertheless, a very queer man and thoroughly
- exasperating.
- </p>
- <p>
- Before leaving that day Webster turned over to her a steamer-trunk filled
- with books, and with something of the feeling of a burglar about to rob a
- bank, asked her if she would care to ride down to the station with him.
- “Sort of speeding the parting guest, you know,” he explained
- comfortably, for somehow, at that moment, he felt a trifle untrue to Billy
- Geary. Of course, Dolores, having nothing more pleasurable or exciting to
- do, would—and did. At the station they found Don Juan waiting in
- charge of the baggage.
- </p>
- <p>
- Just before the train pulled out John Stuart Webster took Dolores's
- hand. “Good-bye, Seeress,” he said very soberly. “The
- trail forks here for the first time—possibly the last, although I'll
- try to be on hand to make good on my promise to present you to your
- brother the day he occupies the palace. However, if I shouldn't be
- in town that day, just go up and introduce yourself to him. It's
- been wonderful to have met you and known you, even for such a brief
- period. I shall never forget you and the remarkable twenty-four hours just
- passed.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I shall not soon forget them myself, Caliph—nor you,”
- she added. “Haven't you been a busy little cup of tea, Caliph!
- Within twenty-four hours after landing, you have changed your mind three
- times, lost the best job in the world, had your fortune told, been marked
- for slaughter, acquired a new-found friend and commenced actively and with
- extraordinarily good results the work of reforming him, soused a gentleman
- in the fountain, spurned another with the tip of your boot, rode with me
- around the Malecon and listened to the band concert, bundled poor Billy
- off to San Miguel de Padua, received a challenge to fight a duel, accepted
- it, had it rejected, engaged in a street fight and shot a man through the
- hand, discovered my brother presumed to be dead, and received a reprieve
- from your enemies, while they perfect new plans for destroying you.
- Really, you are quite a caliph.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, there's a dash of speed in the old horse yet, Miss Ruey,”
- he assured her laughingly. “Now listen: don't tell anybody
- about your brother, and don't tell Billy about my adventures since
- he left for San Miguel de Padua.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But I'm not liable to see Billy——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, you are—extremely liable. I'm going to send him
- back to you as soon as I can spare him, because I know you'll be
- lonesome and bored to death in this lonesome town, and Bill is bully good
- company. And I don't want you to tell him about the mess I'm
- in, because it would only worry him; he can't aid me, and the
- knowledge that I was in any danger, real or fancied, would be sufficient
- to cause him to rebel against my plans for his honeym—for his
- vacation. He'd insist on sticking around to protect me.” He
- looked down at her little hand where it rested in his, so big and brown
- and hard; with his free hand be patted her hand paternally. “Good-bye,
- Seeress,” he said again; and turning to the steps, he leaped aboard
- just as the train started to move out of the station.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Go—good-bye—Caliph,” she called mournfully. Then
- to herself: “Bless his heart, he did remember I'd be terribly
- lonely, after all. He isn't a bit queer, but oh, dear, he is <i>so</i>
- exasperating. I could bump his kind old head against a wall!” She
- turned her back on the train, fearful that from where he clung on the
- steps he could, even at that distance, see the sudden rush of tears that
- blinded her. However, Don Juan Cafe-téro, with his rubicund nose to the
- window of the last coach, did see them—saw her grope toward the
- carriage waiting to take her back to the hotel.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, shure, the poor darlint's cryin',” he
- reflected. “Be the Great Gun an Athlone! Shure I t'ought all
- along 'twas Billy Geary she had her eye on—God love him! An'
- be the same token, didn't she tell me I was to shtay sober an'
- take care av Masther Webster? Hah-hah-a-a-a! Well! I'll say nothin'
- an' I'll be neuthral, but—but—but——”
- </p>
- <p>
- From which it may be inferred that romance was not yet burned out of Don
- Juan's Gaelic soul. He would be “neuthral,” but—but—but—he
- reserved the right to butt in!
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XX
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HROUGHOUT the
- slow, tortuous journey, while the train crept up and ever upward into the
- hills, Don Juan entertained his patron with alternate snatches of the song
- closest to his heart (or rather his stomach)—“The Cruiskeen
- Lawn,” which, liberally translated for the benefit of those not
- familiar with the Gaelic, means “the morning's morning.”
- Between verses the outcast suggested the advisability of a drink to ward
- off approaching faintness or discoursed most learnedly on the roadbed,
- which was a tribute to his efficiency as a section-boss in his other
- incarnation.
- </p>
- <p>
- Arrived at San Miguel de Padua about midnight, Webster found the climate
- temperate, in fact, decidedly cool. Billy was waiting for them and was
- properly amazed, but not scandalized when Don Juan Cafetéro, abusing the
- station hands in a horrible hodgepodge of English and Spanish,
- superintended the landing of the baggage on the platform.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I had to bring him with me,” Webster explained. “I'm
- going to wean him, and after that baby quits crying for his bottle,
- believe me, Bill, we'll have the prince of a foreman for our Mine.
- Quite a character, is Don Juan, when you dig down into him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Dig far enough into that ruin and you'll find firecrackers,”
- Billy admitted. “However, John, I'm afraid he won't
- explode. The powder's damp. How did you leave Dolores?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Fit as a fiddle, Bill.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “How does she stack up on better acquaintance, Johnny?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “She's a skookum lass. She sent her love and I promised to
- send you back to her P. D. Q. So don't bother me with talk about
- her. If you think you're going to sit by my bed half the night and
- talk about your heart's desire, you've another guess coming.
- You'll see her again in a week or ten days, I hope.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No? Is that so, Johnny? Bully for you, you old wampus cat. Tell Don
- Juan to steer you over to the Globo de Oro. He knows the place. I've
- got to go and hire a mule or some other quadruped for, Don Juan if we're
- to avoid a late start in the morning. Good-night, old fellow.”
- </p>
- <p>
- They were up at daybreak, and with three heavily laden pack-mules in
- charge of two semi-naked <i>mozos</i>, while the cook jogged comfortably
- along on his big splay feet in the rear, they set out for Billy's
- concession. From San Miguel de Padua they turned west on a splendid
- highway paved with limestone blocks and vending up into the hills on an
- easy gradient.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Government built, this, I dare say,” Webster suggested as
- they trotted along side by side.
- </p>
- <p>
- Billy nodded. “It is the only evidence I have observed of an
- inclination on the part of President Sarros to give the lowly peon a run
- for his taxes. This highway stretches from San Miguel de Padua to the
- western national boundary; I imagine Sarros built it with some idea of
- enabling him to get there first with the most guns in the event of war
- with his neighbours on the Pacific side. Quite a rare plucked 'un,
- is Sarros—to quote Mother Jenks.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Are you acquainted with him, Bill? What kind of a bird is he?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, yes, indeed, I know him. We're great <i>amigos</i>. I'm
- the man that taught him the folly of betting too heavily on two pair after
- the draw. He has Indian blood in him—quite a little of it, in fact;
- but he is well educated. Speaks French, Spanish, and English very
- fluently. He's a short man and wears high-heeled boots to make
- himself look taller than he really is. He is crafty, suspicious,
- sensitive, and possessed of a sense of humour—only his humour is
- tinged with cruelty. He'd steal a cross off a grave and kill his
- best friend as quickly, should political expediency demand it, as you or I
- would kill a rattlesnake. He has a rattling good intelligence-department,
- pays liberally for information, and keeps down rebellion by the simple
- process of locating the ringleaders and shooting them. He bumped off old
- General Morelos some six weeks ago—did it on mere suspicion, too.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You must have come to Sobrante mighty well recommended to get into
- the good graces of the scoundrel.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not at all! Sarros is a peculiar man. It pleases him to pose as a
- democrat and mingle freely with the proletariat—accompanied,
- however, by a strong bodyguard. Frequently he visits the cafés in
- Buenaventura and fraternizes with all and sundry. I met him first in a
- joint known as The Frenchman's, where he used to come to watch the
- drawing for the lottery. I was there matching another American for
- half-dollars, and Sarros edged up, all interest, and homed in on the game.
- Before the session was over we'd swapped cards, and the instant he
- learned I was a mining man and down here to give Sobrante the onceover, he
- invited me up to the palace for dinner. Our acquaintance quickly ripened
- into friendship—on his part. It seems he likes to have enterprising
- Americans come to Sobrante and exploit the country, because experience has
- demonstrated that if the visitors develop a good thing, there is always a
- rake-off in it for Sarros.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster nodded. “Same old game anywhere you go south of the Rio
- Grande,” he replied.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I had a couple of thousand dollars I'd saved on a job I had
- down in Rhodesia, so I was enabled to put up a big front. I received
- government permission to prospect government lands, and—”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Do you pay a royalty to the government, Bill?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Five per cent.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “How about the president's rake-off?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, that's unofficial, of course, but it's understood
- we pay him 5 per cent, of our output.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Anybody else to take care of?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, that cleans up the gang. Loaiza, the Minister of the Interior,
- wanted in, but I kicked like a bay steer and Sarros shooed him off.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “A fine lot of bandits to do business with!” Webster declared
- disgustedly. “Still, it's their way of doing business, and
- much as we dislike that kind of business, we'll have to do it that
- way or not at all. The government ought to get 10 per cent, of our gross
- output, and Sarros ought to be shot. However, I dare say we can stand for
- the blackmail if, as you say, you have twelve-dollar ore.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Wait and assay it yourself,” Billy assured him. For thirty
- miles they followed the government highway, and then debouched to the
- southwest along a neglected road just wide enough to accommodate the
- clumsy oxcarts of the peons. The country was sparsely settled and
- evidently given over to stockraising. By degrees the road lost itself in
- the tall, dry grass, and became a faint trail which led into a forest of
- fir and other woods, with a good deal of mahogany and with very little
- underbrush. Billy rode in front, following through the timber a trail of
- his own blazing; and on the afternoon of the third day they dropped
- swiftly into a bare brown valley lying between timbered hills, displaying
- here and there the red stain of oxide of iron, from which evidence Webster
- knew he was in a mineral country. Billy pointed to a yellow mound at the
- base of one of the toes of the range flanking the valley on the south.
- </p>
- <p>
- “There's the claim,” he announced. “You can see
- the dump from here.”
- </p>
- <p>
- A ribbon of green ran down a canon from the south and out into the brown,
- parched valley, where it suddenly disappeared.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sink,” Billy elucidated, following the direction of his
- friend's gaze and divining his thoughts. “That creek lies
- entirely on our concession—about thirty miner's inches of
- water, I should judge. It disappears in the sands out there at the end of
- the green streak, but the irrigation along its banks has been sufficient
- to insure plenty of good feed for our stock.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Darkness had descended on the valley by the time they had pitched camp and
- eaten supper. They were up at dawn the following morning, however, and
- immediately after breakfast Jack Webster went to his duffle-bag and
- brought forth a dozen little canvas sacks and a prospector's hammer.
- “Now then, William, my son,” he announced, “light the
- lantern and we'll see if you've forgotten all I taught you
- about mining.”
- </p>
- <p>
- They clambered up the dump to a point where two v light steel rails
- projected over the edge. On top of the dump, lying beside the rails, were
- two small, rusty, steel ore cars; the rails led from the edge of the dump
- to the mouth of a tunnel in the hillside and disappeared therein.
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster stood a moment, looking round him. “How did you happen to
- locate this ledge?” he demanded. “Was it grass-root stuff,
- with an out-cropping here at the foot of the hill? No, of course it wasn't.
- You haven't enough ore on the dump. What the devil were you driving
- at?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Only a small portion of that dump is mine, Jack, and I didn't
- locate the ground originally. I came into this valley from the south, and
- as I worked up the range, I found a bald spot close to the top of the
- hill, and a gallows-frame over an abandoned shaft. Naturally, I went down
- the shaft to see why it had been abandoned. To my surprise, I found a
- twelve-foot vein of free-milling ore, on a contact between andesite and
- Silurian limestone. The ledge stood straight up and down, which seemed to
- argue great depth.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Somebody had found an outcropping on top of that hill,”
- Webster declared with conviction, “and sunk a shaft on the vein to
- open it up and determine its width and direction. How deep was this old
- shaft? Thirty or forty feet?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thirty-two feet. I figured it out just that way, too. After
- determining approximately which way the ledge was pitching, I made up my
- mind I'd have a tunnel driven to cut the ledge at right angles at
- the foot of the hill, since no practical man would mine from the top of a
- hill and hoist his ore through a shaft, when he could mine from the bottom
- and haul his ore out on cars through a tunnel. So I came prowling down
- into the valley and found this tunnel. The work had been abandoned for a
- couple of years, and after examining the tunnel I thought I knew why. They
- had failed to cut the ledge as they expected.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hum-m! And what did you do, Bill?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I got my transit and ran a line from the shaft on the hill,
- following the direction in which the ledge was running, and marked out the
- exact point toward the base of the hill where I would start my tunnel to
- cut the ledge. To my surprise, I discovered my predecessor had selected
- that identical spot. So I verified my calculations and then sat down to
- think it over.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You should have suspected a fault immediately.” Webster
- chided the younger man. “This is a volcanic country——-”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well,” Billy interrupted, “I suspected a fault, but not
- immediately. Remember I'm fifteen years your junior, professor. I
- remembered that frequent and violent earthquakes occur in this country,
- and it seemed to me a reasonable hypothesis to blame some ancient and
- particularly violent seismic disturbance, which had faulted the vein and
- set it over a considerable distance. According to my calculation, that
- other man should have cut the vein at eighty-three feet—yet he had
- gone on one hundred and two before quitting. So I got half a dozen peons
- and drove ahead nineteen feet on the other fellow's tunnel; and by
- Heck, Johnny, I cut the vein!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Bully boy! And then?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I drifted ten feet on the vein, and the ore suddenly gave out. It
- stopped just like that, proving I'd come to the upper end of the
- vein where it had faulted; so I just worked up and around, stoping and
- sinking a winze here and there, until just about the time my cash reserve
- was getting pretty low I picked up the true vein and opened it up for the
- full width. Come in, and I'll show you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- They entered the tunnel, to the signal dismay of dozens of large bats.
- When they reached the vein, Webster broke off samples of the ore every
- three or four feet, crawled after Billy up through the stope and back to
- the true vein, from the face of which he also took numerous samples; then
- he crawled out into the sunshine again, hot, dirty, and perspiring.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Billy, you'll be a real miner yet; see if you won't,”
- was all the praise he tendered his youthful partner, standing beside him
- in anticipation of a compliment, as Webster got out his portable assay
- outfit.
- </p>
- <p>
- For three days Webster worked, determining the values of each sample, only
- to find that his assays confirmed Billy's. Then he visited the old
- shaft on top of the hill, assayed samples procured there, roamed the range
- in the immediate vicinity, marking with expert eye the timber he would
- find so useful and close at hand when stulls and lagging for the tunnel
- should be needed; then he selected a site where the waters of the stream
- could be impounded in a little draw far up the hillside, and returned to
- camp to render his final report.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You were right, son,” he announced. “This mine is a
- humdinger and no mistake; if you and I live ten years we'll be worth
- ten millions between us—maybe more.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Billy's jaundiced eyes glowed hungrily. “We'll put in a
- hundred stamps——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, we'll try ten for a starter,” Webster interrupted
- dryly, “and add more as the mine pays its way. Our first
- consideration is the building of about ten miles of road through that
- timber, and repairs to that old dirt road connecting with the Grand
- Highway. I noticed there isn't much hard rock work to do, however,
- and we'll shoot the trees out of our way with dynamite. After we
- have a passable trail broken into this valley it won't take long to
- haul in our freight from the railroad at San Miguel de Padua. We'll
- cut all our frame- and foundation-timbers for the stamp-mill right here on
- the ground, and our other buildings will all be adobe. We'll have to
- put in a concrete dam up there on the hill and build a flume to the
- stamps. Oh, yes, my son, we'll run the stamps by water power. We'll
- have a five-hundred-foot drop at an ample angle, with the last hundred
- feet almost perpendicular; believe me, when the water comes through the
- penstock, anything in front will have to get out of the way. The same
- power will operate a little electric-light plant to light the grounds and
- buildings and workings, run the drills, and so on. Yes, it's the
- sweetest mining proposition on earth—only, like all high-class
- goods, it has one flaw when you examine it closely.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You're crazy,” Billy challenged. “Name the flaw!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sarros!” Webster replied smilingly. “That scoundrel
- makes a gamble out of an otherwise sure thing. However,” he added,
- recalling the note received from Ricardo Ruey just before his departure
- from Buenaventura and reflecting that to be forewarned is to be forearmed,
- “we'll accept the gamble. That rascal can't live
- forever, and he may be eliminated before he causes us any trouble.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What will it cost us to get this mine on a paying basis, Johnny*”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, back home, I'd figure on spending at least hundred
- thousand dollars; but I dare say, taking consideration the low cost of
- labour in Sobrante and the raw, natural resources of power and timber
- right on the ground, we ought to put this deal over for fifty thousand at
- the outside. Praise be, I have cash enough to do the trick without calling
- in any help, and such being the case, we'll not waste any time but
- hop to the job in a hurry and make the fur fly.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right, Jack. What's the programme?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, first off, son, I'm not going to stay in this country
- and lose myself managing this mine. That's your job, because you're
- young and unimportant in your profession and have the ability to get away
- with the job. You can afford to spend the next fifteen years here, but I
- cannot. I can only afford to come down here every couple of years and
- relieve you for a vacation.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That's the way I figured it, Jack.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right then, Bill, let us start in by giving you your first
- vacation. If you're going to dig in here and make the fur fly, you've
- got to be in tip-top physical condition—and you are thin and gaunted
- and full of chills and fever. Just before I left Buenaventura I cashed a
- draft for five thousand dollars on my letter of credit at the Banco
- Nacional, and placed it to the credit of your account there.
- </p>
- <p>
- “To-morrow morning you will take your horse, one pack-mule, and one
- <i>mozo</i> and ride for San Miguel de Padua, where you will take the
- train for Buenaventura. In Buenaventura you may do what you blame please,
- but if I were you, boy, I'd try to get married and go back to the U.
- S. A. for my honeymoon. And when I finally hit a town that contained some
- regular doctors I'd let them paw me over and rehabbit me and
- overhaul my bearings and put me in such nice running order I'd be
- firing on all twelve cylinders at once.
- </p>
- <p>
- “And when I was feeling tip-top once more I'd wire old John
- Stuart Webster and tell him so, after which I'd stand by for a cable
- from the said sourdough inviting me to return and take up my labours.”
- Billy's wan yellow face lighted up like a sunrise on the desert.
- “I guess that plan's kind of poor,” he announced
- feelingly. “You're right, Jack. I'm in rotten condition
- and I ought to be right before I start. Still, if I should arrange to get
- married before I leave, I'd like mighty well to have a good man and
- true see me safely over the hurdles.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That's nice, son, but I haven't time to be your best
- man. Arranging the honeymoon lets me out, Bill. I'm in a hurry to
- finish here and get back, so the sooner we both start our prospective jobs
- the sooner we'll finish. Have a quiet little marriage, Bill, without
- any fuss or feathers or voices breathing o'er Eden. What are the
- odds, provided you get hitched properly? Besides, I'm in mortal
- dread of that town of Buenaventura, The sewer system is bad; it's
- rotten with fever; and you'd better get that girl out of it P. D.
- Q., and the quicker the better. Myself, I prefer to stay up here in these
- mountains in a temperate climate where there are no mosquitoes.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Billy saw that Webster was serious and would resent any interference in
- his plans. “All right, Jack,” he assented. “You're
- the boss.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Fine. Now, Bill, you listen to father and be guided accordingly.
- When you get to Buenaventura, wire the Bingham Engineering Company, of
- Denver, using my name, and tell them to add to my order given them last
- month and held for shipping directions, twelve dozen picks, twelve dozen
- shovels, twelve dozen mattocks, say, six dozen axes, brush knives, a big
- road plow, and whatever other things you happen to think of and which
- would come in handy when building our road. Also, when you get to New
- Orleans, buy a ton of dynamite and an adequate supply of fuse and
- fulminating caps, pay for it and ship it to me at Buenaventura. Further,
- look around in New Orleans and buy a stanch three ton motor truck. We'll
- need it for getting in supplies from San Miguel de Padua. Pay for the
- truck also, and if you go broke and cannot reach me by cable, wire Neddy
- Jerome at the Engineers' Club in Denver and kick his eye out in my
- honoured name.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I guess that's about all of your job, Bill. As for me, I'll
- camp right here. I'll have a deal of surveying to do and I plan to
- sweat the booze out of that Cafferty person. I'll make Don Juan my
- chain man and run the tail off him. Then I'll be busy with
- preliminary plans, arranging for labour and so on, and when I'm idle
- I'll go hunting.”
- </p>
- <p>
- In conformity with this plan, therefore, Billy said good-bye to his friend
- and packed out for San Miguel de Padua bright and early next morning.
- During the following ten days Webster managed to keep himself fairly busy
- around the camp at the mine; then for a week he hunted and fished, and
- finally, when that began to pall on him, his agile mind returned to
- business and the consideration of the possibility of a flaw in Billy's
- title to the claim; whereupon he suddenly decided to return to
- Buenaventura and investigate that title fully before proceeding to throw
- dollars right and left. While socially he was wildly prodigal with his
- dollars, in business matters no Scotchman was more canny or more careful
- of his baubees.
- </p>
- <p>
- At the head of his little cavalcade, therefore, he rode out one morning
- for the railroad, whereat Providence, in its inscrutable wisdom, ordained
- that en route he should fall in with no less a personage than Don Ricardo
- Luiz Ruey, <i>ne</i> Andrew Bowers. Ricardo was mounted, armed, and alone,
- and at sight of Webster he shouted with delight and spurred toward him.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What the devil! You, Rick, the government cut-up. What are you
- doing in these parts?” Webster rode up and shook hands.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, I'm Robin Hooding it around this part of the country. It
- is so secluded, you know, and Sarros hasn't any friends or any
- telegraph lines or any garrisons up this way. I heard in San Miguel de
- Padua that you were camped yonder, and I was on my way over to confer with
- you on matters of state.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You'll have to confer as we ride along. How does your
- business progress, Rick?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Beyond my wildest expectations. By the way, I need your help,
- friend Webster.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'll do anything within reason, Rick.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I figured you would, so I have already imposed on your good nature
- to a slight extent. Met your friend Geary at El Buen Amigo a couple of
- weeks ago, just before he sailed for the United States. He was telling me
- you had to have a lot of tools for road building, so I cabled in a secret
- cipher to the So-brantean revolutionary junta in New Orleans to ship these
- tools to you immediately. They arrived on the last trip of the <i>Atlanta</i>
- and now repose in Leber's warehouse waiting for you to call and
- remove them.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You scoundrel! What have you sent me?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “A couple of hundred rifles and three machine-guns, branded axes,
- picks, shovels, plows, and so on. I also ran in three cases of ammunition,
- labelled grindstones, two more cases disguised as bolts, and quite several
- thousand labelled nails in kegs. I should feel rather sorry for you if my
- friend Sarros should get suspicious and investigate, but I haven't
- any fear that he will. You see, he knows you're here on legitimate
- business. He has investigated and learned that you are a bona fide mining
- engineer of considerable reputation—and then, you know, your friend
- Geary dickered with him for the concession. The mining property you are
- about to develop belongs to the people, not to Sarros; yet he has bartered
- it away and will divert the royalty to his own pocket instead of the
- public treasury.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hum-m-m! What do you want me to do with all those munitions
- consigned to me?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Arrange with Leber to keep them there until you get ready to build
- your road into the mine. I want them there when my American mercenaries
- arrive in Buenaventura. By the way, you are going to import these
- mercenaries for me. They are American miners and road-builders in the
- employ of the Honda Mining & Development Company, which is to be the
- name of your enterprise. I hope you'll like the name, Webster. I
- picked it out myself.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You cool scoundrel! You're making a cat's paw out of
- me.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That is because you happen to be so handy for my purpose. You see
- my plan, do you not? I'm going to attack Buenaventura from within
- and without. I'm going to come down on Sarros like a wolf on the
- fold, and the job is scheduled for next Saturday night a week.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Look here, Rick, my boy, I have no desire to mix in the politics of
- this country.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You have some desire, however, to mix in its wealth,” Ricardo
- reminded him.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm the only man that can help you. By the way, do not order
- your machinery shipped until after I am seated firmly on the throne of my
- fathers.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It's been framed with Sarros to let you spend your money on
- that concession and get the mine in running order; then a fake suit,
- alleging an error in the government survey, will be filed. It will be
- claimed that the concession given your friend Geary is, by virtue of
- erroneous government surveys, the property of a citizen of Sobrante. The
- courts here do as Sarros tells them. You are to be kicked out, busted, and
- despairing, and your nicely equipped little mine will be taken over as a
- government monopoly and run for the benefit of the government, to wit,
- Sarros and his satellites. We had to cook up a dirty deal like that to
- save your life. Of course, now that I have warned you in time, you are
- safe. We schemed a proposition, however, that worked both ways. It enabled
- us to save you and to save us, by permitting the shipment, free of
- suspicion, of arms for the rebels that are to attack the city from within.
- Naturally I had to cache their arms within the city—and that was a
- hard problem until you happened along. Thank you, fairy godfather.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “My thanks are due you, Ricardo. I'm for you, first, last, and
- all the time, and against this Sarros outfit. By the way, how do you
- purpose moving your machine-guns?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “We'll have to carry them, I guess.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I'll have a small auto-truck delivered in Buenaventura
- by that time. You might arrange to armour it with sheet steel; and with a
- couple of machine-guns mounted in it, and a crew of resolute Americans
- behind the machine-guns, you could caper from one end of the city to the
- other and clear a path for your infantry.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thank you, my friend. I'll borrow the motor truck and arrange
- to armour it. That's a bully idea. Are you bound for Buenaventura
- now?” Webster nodded. “Then,” Ricardo suggested, “I'll
- meet you in my room at El Buen Amigo next Wednesday night at eleven and
- explain the details of my plans to you if you care to hear them. I think
- they're air-tight myself, but somehow I think I'd feel more
- certain of them if you approve them.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'll be there, Rick, and the day you run that outlaw Sarros
- off the grass you'll know why I am for you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good-bye, old man. You will never know how grateful you have made
- me.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Ruey shook hands with Webster and rode off through the timber, leaving
- John Stuart Webster to pursue the even tenor of his way, until at length
- he arrived once more in Buenaventura and sought accommodations at the
- Hotel Mateo. And there, as he entered the lobby and gazed through a glass
- door across the <i>patio</i> and into the veranda, he saw that which
- disturbed him greatly. In a big wicker rocker Dolores Ruey sat, rocking
- gently and busily stitching on a piece of fancy work!
- </p>
- <p>
- Billy Geary gone back to the United States, and Dolores was still in
- Buenaventura! Amazing! Why, what the devil did Billy mean by letting her
- have her own way like that? Of course they hadn't been married, or
- she would not now be out there on the veranda, and of course they hadn't
- quarrelled, because that was an impossibility, and of course Billy had
- departed alone for the U. S. A., else he would have returned to their camp
- in the hills back of San Miguel de Padua.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I know what I'm going to do,” Webster decided.
- “I'm not going to be led into temptation while Billy's
- not on the job—so I'll not put up at the Hotel Mateo after
- all. I'll just sneak around to El Buen Amigo and fix it with that
- old Mother Jenks not to tip off my presence in town to Dolores Ruey until
- I can get the lay of the land and see what the devil has happened to all
- my well-laid plans.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He retreated out the front door and called a carriage, into which he was
- about to step, bag and baggage, when Don Juan Cafetéro came rushing up in
- great excitement. “Sure, where are ye goin' now, sor. Is there
- no room for ye in the Hotel Mateo?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Their beds have jiggers in them, and I just remembered that,”
- Webster fibbed. “Hop in, John, and we'll drive around to Mr.
- Geary's lodgings in El Buen Amigo.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But I come t'rough the <i>patio</i> just now,” Don Juan
- explained, “an' who should I meet but the young leddy.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You infernal scoundrel! Did you tell her I was in town?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sure I did, sor. An' why not?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “None of your infernal business. You've spoiled everything.
- You're a muddle-headed monkey and I've a great notion to let
- you get drunk again. Take the baggage back into the hotel.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Don Juan Cafetéro, greatly humbled and rebuffed, stepped aside and watched
- Webster stride back into the hotel. “God love ye, sor,” he
- mumbled, “know-in' what I know, is it likely I'd let ye
- make a monkey out av her or yerself? Ye made yer plans wit' Misther
- Geary wit'out consultin' her. Now go, ye grrand big divil, an'
- find out why she kicked yer schame to smithereens.” And with a
- solemn and knowing wink at the duffle-bag, Don Juan picked that article up
- and followed after his master.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXI
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">J</span>OHN STUART WEBSTER'S
- agile brain was the repository of many conflicting emotions as he bathed,
- shaved, and changed from his soiled khaki field clothes to a suit of ducks
- before presenting himself before Dolores.
- </p>
- <p>
- Had Billy's courage forsaken him at the last minute, with the result
- that he had gone back to the United States without having settled the
- question of Dolores's future? Had he proposed and been rejected, or
- had he proposed, been accepted, and had his plans for an immediate
- marriage vetoed by Dolores?
- </p>
- <p>
- In either event, why had Billy failed to leave a note for him at the Hotel
- Mateo, or mailed him a letter to the Globo de Oro at San Miguel de Padua,
- advising him of the change in the plan of action outlined for him by
- Webster?
- </p>
- <p>
- If Dolores had accepted him, then Billy Geary was just the sort of
- impulsive youth who could not rest until he had advised Webster of his
- luck; on the other hand, Billy was susceptible, in matters of love, to the
- deep melancholia which is as distinct a characteristic of the Hibernian
- nature as wit and light-heartedness, and in the event of disappointment he
- would not be apt to rush to his partner with the news; a feeling of
- chagrin would prompt him to keep his own counsel, to go away and stay away
- until he had Smothered the ache and could return and meet Dolores without
- restraint and embarrassment.
- </p>
- <p>
- In the simplicity of his single-hearted devotion Webster was puzzled to
- understand how any woman in her right mind could fail to fall in love with
- Billy Geary. To begin, he was a fine-looking lad and would look finer when
- the chills and fever had been eradicated; he was far from being a runt,
- mentally or physically; he was gentle, well-mannered, kind, with the gift
- of turning a pretty speech to a woman and meaning it with all his heart
- and soul. A man he was, from heels to hair, and a man with prospects far
- above the average. To Webster's way of thinking, the girl who
- married Billy might well count herself fortunate.
- </p>
- <p>
- Dolores greeted him with unaffected pleasure. “Well, Caliph!”
- she said. Just that. It made Webster sensible of a feeling of having
- returned to her after an absence of several years. “I'm so
- glad to see you, Miss Ruey,” he replied, and added boldly, “particularly
- since I didn't expect to.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She knew what her reply would lead to; nevertheless, with that
- dissimulation which can only be practised in perfection by a clever and
- beautiful woman, she answered with equal boldness: “Indeed! Pray
- why?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, for a pretty good reason, I think. A few weeks ago, after
- examining Bill's concession very thoroughly, I told him he was a
- potential millionaire. Now, while I disclaim any appearance of
- braggadocio, when John Stuart Webster, E.M., makes any mine owner a report
- like that, he is apt to be taken very seriously. And having made Bill a
- potential millionaire and arranged to give him three or four months'
- vacation back home, I had a notion he'd present to you a very valid
- reason why you should accompany him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You are very frank, Caliph.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That's because I'm curious. You do not mind being
- equally frank with an old cuss like me, do you, and telling me just why
- Bill's plans miscarried? Because he had a certain dream, and told me
- about it, and I did my little best to make it come true. You see, Miss
- Ruey, I'm a lot older than Bill, and I've known him since he
- was eighteen years old; I feel a responsibility toward him that is almost
- paternal.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I think I understand, Caliph. It would be very difficult, I think,
- for anybody to meet Billy without being attracted toward him. He's
- one of the dearest, most lovable boys in the world—and he did do me
- the signal honour of asking me to marry him. So there!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, and why didn't you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- She smiled at his blunt insistence on forcing the issue. “For a
- number of excellent reasons, Caliph. In the first place, he wanted me to
- marry him immediately—and I wasn't ready to leave Sobrante,
- while Billy was. Indeed, it was highly necessary that he should leave
- immediately, for the sake of his health, and I had Billy's interest
- at heart sufficiently to insist upon it. You seem to forget that when a
- girl marries she must make some preparation for the event, and if she has
- any close relatives, such as a brother, for instance, she likes to have
- that relative present at the ceremony. You will recall, Caliph, that I
- have a brother and that you have promised to introduce me to him very
- shortly. Much as you love Billy, would you insist upon depriving me of the
- joy of meeting my brother on the day of his triumph—on the day of
- the triumph of our family—just to please Billy by marrying him on
- ten minutes' notice, and leaving on a honeymoon next day? That is
- what you would refer to as crowding my hand and joggling my elbow.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “By Judas, I never thought of that, Miss Ruey,” the repentant
- Webster answered. “In fact, I wasn't thinking of anybody's
- interest in this matter but Bill's.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not even of mine, Caliph?” reproachfully.
- </p>
- <p>
- “That goes without saying. Could I have done anything nicer for you
- than fix it for Bill so he would be in position to marry you? Here you
- are, practically alone in the world—at least you were when Bill met
- you and fell in love with you—and I know that boy so well I was
- convinced, after meeting you, that his future happiness and yours would
- best be conserved if you married him. I hope you do not think I was
- presumptuous in thinking this, or that I am presumptuous now in speaking
- my mind so frankly. I realize this is a most unusual conversation——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Quite to be expected of an unusual man, Caliph. And I do not think
- you were one bit presumptuous. It was wonderfully dear of you, and I am
- profoundly grateful that Billy and I have such a true, unselfish friend,
- whose first thought is for our happiness. I knew I was going to like you
- before Billy introduced us—and I think more of you than ever, now
- that I know you're a dear, blundering old matchmaker. Of course you
- realize how badly I felt to think I couldn't accede to Billy's
- plan. Billy's such a dear, it quite broke my heart to disappoint
- him, but a little temporary unhappiness will not ruin Billy, will it? It
- makes me feel blue to talk about it, Caliph.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not at all, not at all, Miss Ruey. Bill is one of the impulsive,
- whirlwind kind, up in the clouds today and down in the slough of despond
- to-morrow. He'll survive the shock. Of course, it would have been
- pretty nice if your affairs had permitted you to accompany Bill; I never
- had a honeymoon myself, but it must be a great institution, and I was all
- wrapped up in the notion of seeing Bill have what I'd never had
- myself—a honeymoon and a wife and kids and money enough to enjoy
- 'em all the way that God intended a real man and woman to enjoy
- them. However, I'm glad to know everything will come out all right.
- Seeing you here gave me a momentary chill; thought a cog had slipped
- somewhere, so I helped myself to Cupid's license and asked. A man
- cannot learn very much from a woman unless he asks questions, can he? I
- mean on the subject of love.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She smiled a little, wistful, knowing smile. “No, Caliph,” she
- answered seriously, “somehow the Master of Things ordained that on
- the subject of love man must do all the talking.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, but on the other hand, woman has the last word—as usual.
- However, the only thing in your case and Billy's that worries me is
- the thought that since Bill left his magnet behind he will be drawn back
- here before he is in the kind of shape, physically, that I want him to be
- in before he relieves me on the job so I can go away.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Do not worry on that point, Caliph. I am your ally there; between
- us both I think we can manage him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Fine business! Miss Ruey, if that boy Bill ever gets a notion in
- his head that you haven't forgotten more than he'll ever know,
- I'll break his neck. And with those few kind words we'll
- dismiss William until you care to talk about him again, although if you're
- as deep in love as Bill you'll not stay off the subject very long.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “How is Don Juan Cafetéro, Caliph?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Coming out in the wash and without his colours running. I've
- sweated the booze out of him, hiking him over the hills, and bullied him
- into eating solids, and a few days ago I shut off the firewater forever, I
- hope. However, I'll have to watch him very closely for a long time
- yet—particularly in town. Out at the mine he'll be away from
- temptation. Hard work is the best cure for Don Juan. There's a deal
- of truth in the old saying that Satan will find mischief for idle hands to
- do. I imagine you've been rather idle lately. Hope you haven't
- been into mischief.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I haven't been idle. I've made several dresses for
- Mother Jenks and done a lot of fancy work and begun the study of my mother
- tongue. If my brother should become president of this country, it would
- ill become his sister not be able to speak Spanish. By the way, Billy told
- me you were going to remain up in the hills quite a while yet. What
- brought you back to town so soon?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Expected I'd have some freight arriving shortly: besides, I
- wanted to make certain the title to Bill's property didn't
- have any flaws in it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “How long will you remain in Buenaventura?” Considering the
- fact that he was no longer subject to temptation, since the object of his
- temptation was now definitely promised to his friend Billy, Webster
- suddenly decided to remain until the political atmosphere should be
- cleared, although prior to his conversation with Dolores he had cherished
- a definite plan to go back to the hills within forty-eight hours. He could
- not suppress an ironic grin, despite the pain and misery of his
- predicament, as he reflected how often, of late, he had made up his mind
- to a definite course of action, only to change it promptly at some new
- whim of fate.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm going back,” he replied soberly, “after I
- have kept my promise and introduced you to your brother in the government
- palace. If I cannot introduce him to you there, the title to our mining
- concession will be clouded, in which event it will not be necessary for
- Billy or myself to fuss with it further.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He related to her the information gleaned from her brother two days
- previously.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It's no use for an individual to fight a government despot in
- courts controlled by the latter,” he concluded. “Your brother
- must win and depose the Sarros; then with the title to the property
- certified by the government as without a flaw, I may dare to spend fifty
- thousand dollars developing it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And if my brother doesn't win?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I may never have an opportunity to present you to him. We mustn't
- be squeamish about this matter, Miss Ruey. If Ricardo doesn't turn
- the trick, he may go the way of his father, unless he can manage to get
- out of the country.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She was silent a minute, digesting this grim alternative. “And you?”
- she queried presently. “What will happen to you? As I understand it,
- you are existing now under a temporary license.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I shall endeavour to leave also—with dignity. I can always
- land a pretty good job back home, and wherever I'm superintendent
- the next best job belongs to Billy. The Lord is our shepherd; we shall not
- want.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “As I understand it, then, Caliph, Ricardo hopes to win his
- revolution when he strikes the first blow.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I think so. I dare say Ricardo hopes to take Sarros by surprise,
- bottle the city garrison up in the <i>cuartel</i> and the government
- palace and there besiege them. Having secured nominal control of a
- seaport, he can import arms and ammunition; also he can recruit openly,
- and at his leisure hunt down the outlying garrisons. The Sarros crowd
- doesn't suspect his presence in Sobrante, and by a quick, savage
- stroke he should be able to jerk this one-horse government up by the heels
- in jig time—particularly since the citizenry feel no loyalty toward
- the Sarros régime and are only kept in subjection through fear and lack of
- a leader. I'm going to play Ricardo to win, if he isn't killed
- in the opening row, for I'm certain he'll lead his men.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I dare say he is greatly like his father—not afraid to die
- for his country,” she replied presently. “I am glad to be here
- when he takes that risk.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, but you mustn't be here,” Webster protested.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Because there'll be street fighting—probably of a
- desperate character, and I understand your countrymen go rather war-mad
- and do things not sanctioned by the Hague tribunal. If there's a
- steamer in port at the time I'll put you aboard her until the issue
- is decided. She'll have to remain in port because while the fighting
- goes on she cannot load or discharge.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I could go to the American consulate,” she suggested.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You could—but you'll not. That consul would give you up
- to the first mob that called for you—and I'm not so certain
- that even the sister of an archtraitor (for patriots and revolutionists
- are always traitors when they lose) would be safe from the Sarros fury.
- However, I'm going to see Ricardo tomorrow night and learn the
- details of his plan of campaign; after that I'll be able to act
- intelligently.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXII
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">R</span>ICARDO RUBY, with
- Doctor Pacheco and Colonel Caraveo, were engaged in consultation when Jack
- Webster, having left the Hotel Mateo via his bedroom window in order to
- avoid possible espionage and made his way to El Buen Amigo on foot, was
- announced by Mother Jenks. The three conspirators greeted him joyously, as
- indeed they should, for his loyal friendship had thus far been one of
- their principal bulwarks.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well,” Webster inquired, after greeting them and carefully
- closing the door behind him, “here I am in Beunaventura, marking
- time and, like Mr. Micawber, waiting for something to turn up.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You will not be required to wait long,” Colonel Caraveo
- assured him. “Thanks to your kindly offices, the trap is already
- baited.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Our friend Ruey has, since our first meeting, insisted on
- dispensing with my consent when using me to promote his enterprises,
- Colonel. Strange to say, I have been unable to berate him for his
- impudence. I was down at Leber's warehouse this afternoon. You have
- enough road-making tools consigned to me there to build a pretty fair
- highway to the gates of the government palace, I should say. I hope you
- have all pondered the result to me, an innocent bystander, if your enemies
- should take a notion to open one of those cases of shovels.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Colonel Caraveo favoured him with a benignant smile. “You forget, my
- friend, that I am second in command in the Intelligence Department, and
- that, during the absence of your particular friend Raoul Sarros, in New
- Orleans, I am first in command. Since I already know what those cases
- contain, naturally I shall not take the trouble to investigate.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, that's a comfort, Colonel.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You have investigated your mining concession, Webster?”
- Ricardo Ruey asked.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You bet.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What did you find?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “A couple of millions in sight.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Ricardo shook his head slowly. “It is not in sight, old man,”
- he reminded Webster. “Without our aid—and you cannot have our
- aid unless our revolution is successful, when you shall have it freely—your
- millions are, most positively, not in sight. If you want those millions,
- friend Webster, there is but one way to get them—and that is to
- close your eyes and play our game to the limit.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It seems to me I've been showing a pretty willing spirit
- right along—and that without being consulted in the matter, Rick:”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You're one man in a million. I wonder if you'd go
- further—about forty thousand dollars further, to be exact.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I might, but I never go it blind for a wad like that. What's
- your trouble?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “The revolution will fail if you decide to deny my request. I
- realize I have the most amazing presumption to ask anything of you, and
- yet I am moved to stake my all on your goodness of heart, having already
- had ample evidence of that goodness. In other words, I am going to apply
- the old principle of driving a willing horse to death.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The individual in charge of the funds of the revolutionary junta in
- New Orleans was murdered last night; the funds were deposited to his
- credit as agent in a certain bank, and before the junta can obtain legal
- possession of them again the psychological time for their use will have
- passed.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We have a steamer chartered, and two hundred men, whose business it
- is to fight under any flag at five dollars gold per day and no questions
- asked, are now marking time on the Isle of Pines, off the coast of Cuba,
- waiting for our steamer to call for them and land them, with their rifles
- and ammunition and six seventy-five-millimeter field-guns and some
- rapid-fire Maxims, at San Bruno, some eighteen miles up the coast from
- here.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The guns and munitions are now in Tampa, having been shipped to our
- agent there on sight draft, with bill of lading attached; the steamer is
- chartered and en route to Tampa from Norfolk, Virginia, and we must pay
- the owners ten thousand dollars the day she begins taking on her cargo,
- and ten thousand dollars before she unloads it on lighters at San Bruno.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We must also pay two hundred men one month's pay in advance—that
- is, thirty thousand dollars; we cannot meet this expense and still take up
- that sight draft now awaiting our attention in the bank at Tampa.
- </p>
- <p>
- “In return for this favour to the provisional government of
- Sobrante, you shall have the note of the provisional government, signed by
- the provisional president, myself, and the provisional cabinet, Doctor
- Pachecho, Colonel Caraveo, and two other gentlemen whom you will meet in
- due course unless in the interim they should be killed. And as a bonus for
- saving this country from a brutal dictator, who is pillaging its resources
- for his personal profit, you shall have a deed of gift to that mining
- concession you and your friend Geary are so desirous of working; also the
- title shall be certified by the government and the Supreme Court of
- Sobrante and absolutely secured to you against future aggression in the
- event that the new régime should be overthrown at some future date. Also
- you have my profound gratitude and that of my people.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Tell me your plan of campaign,” Webster suggested.
- </p>
- <p>
- “In a secret rendezvous in the mountains I have one thousand picked
- men—my father's veterans. They are armed with modern rifles
- and machetes. The nitrate company, which has been suffering from heavy
- export duties imposed by Sarros, would help us financially, I think, but
- it is not well for a provisional government to begin by asking financial
- favours of a huge foreign corporation; so, much to the surprise of their
- local manager, to whom I have confided my plans, I have merely asked for
- the loan of all the rolling stock of the railroad for one night. It will
- be mobilized at San Miguel de Padua by next Saturday night; my troops will
- arrive late the same afternoon and entrain at once.
- </p>
- <p>
- “In the interim all telephone and telegraph communications with
- Buenaventura will be severed. The night previous our steamer will have
- discharged her cargo of men and munitions at San Bruno; a chain of
- outposts will at once be established and all communication with the
- capital will be shut off.
- </p>
- <p>
- “On Saturday night, also, the Consolidated Fruit Company's
- steamer <i>La Estrellita</i> will make port with thirty Americans in her
- steerage. These men will be road-makers and miners imported by Mr. J. S.
- Webster, and in order to make certain that they will come, you have
- already ordered them by cable. I took the liberty of seeing to it that the
- cable signed by you was sent to New Orleans several days ago, and as part
- of the bluff of keeping all of your movements under surveillance, a copy
- of this cablegram was furnished to the subordinate of our good Colonel
- Caraveo, charged with reporting on your movements. We have arranged with
- the port doctor to give <i>La Estrellita</i> a clean bill of health the
- very night she arrives. Hence the ship's authorities will not be
- suspicious, I hope, when we remove our men after dark and house them in
- Leber's warehouse, where they will spend the night unpacking those
- spades, picks, and shovels of yours and getting the factory grease off
- them.
- </p>
- <p>
- “At four o'clock in the morning various citizens of Sobrante,
- with rebellion in their hearts, will begin to mobilize at Leber's
- warehouse, where they will be issued rifles and ammunition and where they
- will wait until the action is opened to the south by the detachment from
- San Bruno, which, having marched from San Bruno the night before, will
- have arrived outside, the city, and will be awaiting the signal from me. I
- will attack from the west—cautiously.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Now, there are five thousand government troops in the city and in
- various cantonments on the outskirts. These cantonments are to be rushed
- and set afire; I figure that the confusion of our sudden attack will
- create a riot—particularly when I do something that isn't very
- popular as a war feature down this way, and that is charge—and keep
- on coming. Down this way, you know, Webster, a battle consists in a
- horrible wastage of ammunition at long range, and casualties of three
- killed and twelve wounded. The good, old-fashioned charge isn't to
- their liking; they hate cold steel.
- </p>
- <p>
- “These government troops will start to fall back on the city, only
- to find themselves flanked by a fierce artillery fire from the San Bruno
- contingent; the troops from the arsenal, the Guards at the palace and the
- Fifteenth Regiment of Infantry, now stationed at the Cuartel de
- Infanteria, next the government palace, will be dispatched post haste to
- repulse the attack, and four hundred men, with the machine-gun company
- waiting in Leber's warehouse, will promptly move upon them from the
- rear and capture the arsenal. There are a few thousand rifles and a lot of
- ammunition stored there; I miss my guess if, as soon as the news of its
- capture by the rebels spreads through the city (and I shall have men to
- spread it), I shall not have a few thousand volunteers eager to help
- overthrow Sarros.
- </p>
- <p>
- “When the government troops find themselves under the kind of
- shell-fire I've prepared for them, and with machine guns and Maxims
- playing on them, in close formation from the rear, they'll surrender
- in droves—if they live to surrender.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Once cut off from the arsenal and the palace, Sarros must fight his
- way out of the city in order to have the slightest chance to suppress the
- rebellion, for he will have no refuge in the city. And with the railroad
- and all the rolling stock in our hands, without a commissary for his
- troops, without a base of supplies, even should the government troops
- fight their way through, they leave the city in my hands and I'll
- recruit and arm my men and hunt them down like jack-rabbits at my leisure.
- Once let the arsenal and the palace fall into my hands, once let me
- proclaim myself provisional president, once let the people know that
- Ricardo Ruey, the Beloved, lives again in the person of his son, and I
- tell you, Webster, this country is saved.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You lead the army from San Miguel de Padua, Ricardo. Who leads the
- detachment from San Bruno?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Colonel Caraveo.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And the machine-gun company from Leber's warehouse?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Doctor Pacheco. How do you like my plan of campaign?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It couldn't be any better if I had planned it myself. You
- might accept my suggestion and armour that little motor truck of mine. It
- arrived on yesterday's steamer.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And some armour sheet steel with it—sheet steel already
- loopholed for the barrels of the two machine guns it will carry!”
- Doctor Pacheco cried joyously.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Have you provided a chauffeur, Doctor?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have—likewise an armoured sheet-steel closet for him to sit
- in while chauffeuring.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Don't forget the oil and gasoline,” Webster cautioned
- him quizzically.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How about that loan to the provisional government?” Ricardo
- demanded pointedly.
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster did not hesitate. After all, what was money to him now? Moreover,
- he was between the devil and the deep sea, as it were. Billy had gone
- away, his hopes raised high, already a millionaire after the fashion of
- mining men, who are ever ready to count their chicks before they are
- hatched, provided only they see the eggs. Besides, there was Dolores. Full
- well Webster realized that Billy, tossed back once more into the jaws of
- the well-known wolf of poverty, would not have the courage upon his return
- to Sobrante to ask Dolores to share his poverty with him; should the
- revolution fail, Ricardo Ruey would be an outcast, a hunted man with a
- price on his head, and in no position to care for his sister, even should
- he survive long enough to know he had a sister. Webster thought of her—so
- sweet, so winsome, so brave and trusting, so worthy of all that the world
- might hold for her of sweetness and comfort. She would be alone in the
- world if he, John Stuart Webster, failed her now—more than ever she
- needed a man's strength and affection to help her navigate the
- tide-rips of life, for life to a woman, alone and unprotected and
- dependent upon her labour for the bread she must eat, must contain, at
- best, a full measure of terror and despair and loneliness. He pictured her
- through a grim processional of years of skimping and petty sacrifices—and
- all because he, John Stuart Webster, had hesitated to lend a dreamer and
- an idealist a paltry forty thousand dollars without security.
- </p>
- <p>
- No, there was no alternative. As they say in Mexico, Ricardo had him <i>tiron</i>,
- meaning there was no escape. If his friendship for Billy was worth a sou,
- it was worth forty thousand dollars; if his silent, unrequited love for
- Dolores Ruey was worthy of her, no sacrifice on his part could be too
- great, provided it guaranteed her happiness.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ruined again,” he sighed. “This is only another of
- those numerous occasions when the tail goes with the hide. How soon do you
- want the money?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Ricardo Luiz Ruey leaned forward and gazed very earnestly at John Stuart
- Webster. “Do you really trust me that much, my friend?” he
- asked feelingly. “Remember, I am asking you for forty thousand
- dollars on faith.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Old sport,” John Stuart Webster answered, “you went
- overboard in Buenaventura harbour and took a chance among those big,
- liver-coloured, hammerheaded sharks. And you did that because you had a
- cause you thought worth dying for. I never knew a man who had a cause that
- was worth dying for who would even espouse a cause worth swindling for.
- You win—only I want you to understand one thing, Ricardo: I'm
- not doing this for the sake of saving that mining concession the Sarros
- government gave my friend Geary. I'm above doing a thing like this
- for money—for myself. It seems to me I must do it to guarantee the
- happiness of two people I love: my friend Geary and the girl he's
- going to marry. I reject your promissory note and your promise of a deed
- of gift for that concession, and accept only your gratitude. There are no
- strings to this loan, because it isn't a loan at all. It's a
- bet. If you lose, I'll help you get out of the country and absolve
- you of any indebtedness to me. We'll just make a new book and start
- making bets all over again, Rick. However, if you should win, I know you'll
- reimburse me from the national treasury.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And you do not desire a bonus?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Nothing that will cost the citizens of this country one penny of
- their heritage. I'm going to bet this money—bet it,
- understand, not loan it, because a loan predicates repayment at some
- future date, and for the sake of my self-respect as a business man I'd
- hate to make a bum loan of that magnitude on no security. However, if you
- want to be a sport and grant me a little favour in return, you can.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Name it, friend.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “As soon as you have been recognized by the United States, I want
- you to have your ambassador in Washington make representations to my
- government that the present American consul in Sobrante is not acceptable
- to your government. That fellow is a disgrace to my native land and I want
- him fired.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It shall be my first official act after freeing my country from a
- tyrant's yoke.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Another little favour also, Ricardo.” This time Webster spoke
- in English.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Eire away.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “After I give you this money, I don't want the Doctor and the
- Colonel to kiss me to show how grateful they are.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You wonderful fellow! Jack Webster, if I had a sister I should want
- her to marry you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Shows how little you'd think of your sister—staking her
- to a sentimental jackass. Shall I cable the money to New Orleans in the
- morning? I have a letter of credit for my entire bank-roll, and I can give
- a draft at the Banco Nacional, and have them cable a New Orleans bank.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That will do very nicely.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “To whom shall I cable the money?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Send it to the Picayune National Bank of New Orleans, with
- instructions to credit account Number 246, J. E. P., trustee. In this
- little game we are playing, my friend, it is safer to deal in numbers and
- initials rather than names. The local cable office leaks quite regularly.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Very well, Ricardo, I'll attend to it first thing in the
- morning. Where are you going to armour that motor truck?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “If you'll have it run over to the nitrate company's
- machine shop at the railway terminus the foreman there will attend to the
- job and keep the truck under cover until Friday night, when they'll
- run it back to Leber's warehouse for the machine guns Sunday
- morning.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Is Leber in on this deal?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He is not. What Leber doesn't know will not worry him. He
- doesn't live in his warehouse, you know. We're just going to
- take possession after dark, when the water-front is absolutely deserted.
- There's a concert on the Malecon that night, and everybody who can
- ride or walk will be out there listening to it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster nodded his approval of Ricardo's clever plans. “All
- right, old man, go to it and win, or there'll be several new faces
- whining around the devil, not the least of which will be mine. When you
- charge, remember you're charging for my forty thousand dollars—and
- go through with it. I worked rather hard for that forty thousand, and if I
- must lose it, I do not want to do it in a half-hearted fight. Give me, at
- least, a bloody run for my money. I'll have a reserved seat
- somewhere watching the game.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “If you'll take my advice, you'll go aboard <i>La
- Estrellita</i> and stay there until the issue is decided. When the first
- gun is fired, it signals the open season on mining engineers who butt in
- on affairs of state.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What! And me with a healthy bet down on the result! I hope I'm
- a better sport than that.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You're incorrigible. Be careful, then, and don't get
- yourself potted by a stray bullet. When these brownies of mine get
- excited, they shoot at every head in sight.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Shall I see you fellows before the blow-off?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I scarcely think so.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then if you're through with me, I'll bid you all
- good-bye and good luck. I'll have dinner with you in the palace
- Sunday evening.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Taken.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “May I bring a guest?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “By all means.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster shook hands with the trio and departed for his hotel. For the
- first time in many years he was heavy of heart, crushed. “Neddy
- Jerome was right,” he soliloquized. “This is the last place on
- earth for me to have come to. I've made Neddy sore on me, and he's
- lost patience and put another man in the job he promised me; I've
- raised Billy's hopes sky-high and had to bet forty thousand dollars
- to keep them there; I've been fool enough to fall in love with my
- friend's fiancée; I'm a human cat's-paw, and the finest
- thing I can do now is to go out next Sunday morning with that machine-gun
- company from Leber's warehouse and get killed. And I would, too, in
- a holy second, if killing a dozen of these spiggoties were part of a
- mining engineer's business. I just don't belong in this
- quarrel and I cannot kill for pleasure or profit. All I get out of this
- deal is gratitude and empty honour, where I dreamed of love and a home in
- my old age. John Stuart Webster, the family friend! Well, after all, it
- isn't every old sour-dough that has an opportunity to be a
- liberator, and even if I have lost Dolores, I have this melancholy
- satisfaction: I have a rattling good chance of getting that scrubby
- American consul.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXIII
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE following
- morning Webster informed Dolores fully of his interview with her brother
- and his confrères the night before, concealing from her only the fact that
- he was financing the revolution and his reasons for financing it. He was
- still depressed, and Dolores, observing his mood, forbore to intrude upon
- it. Intuitively she realized that when a man is worried and harassed by
- matters he cannot or dares hot divulge, he dislikes being talked to, but
- prefers to be alone and wrestle with them in silence. Accordingly she
- claimed the prerogative of her sex—a slight headache—and
- retreated to her room, In the privacy of which she was suddenly very much
- surprised to find herself weeping softly because John Stuart Webster was
- unhappy and didn't deserve to be.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was impossible, however, for Webster long to remain impervious to the
- note of ridiculousness underlying the forthcoming tragic events. Here was
- a little two-by-four poverty-stricken hot-bed of ignorance and intrigue
- calling itself a republic, a little stretch of country no larger than a
- couple of big western counties, about to indulge in the national pastime
- of civil war and unable to do it except by grace of an humble citizen of a
- sister republic!
- </p>
- <p>
- Five thousand ignorant, ill-equipped, ill-drilled semi-brigands calling
- themselves soldiers, entrusted with the task of enabling one of their
- number to ride, horse and dog, over a million people!
- </p>
- <p>
- How farcical! No wonder Ricardo, with his northern viewpoint, approached
- his patriotic task with gayety, almost with contempt. And when Webster
- recalled that the about-to-be-born provisional government had casually
- borrowed from him the sum of forty thousand dollars in order to turn the
- trick—borrowing it, forsooth, in much the same spirit as a commuter
- boarding his train without the necessary fare hails a neighbour and
- borrows ten cents—his natural optimism asserted itself and he
- chuckled as in fancy he heard himself telling the story to Neddy Jerome
- and being branded a liar for his pains.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I've had one comfort ever since I first saw that girl,”
- he reflected philosophically. “While I've never been so
- unhappy in all my life before, or had to tear my soul out by the roots so
- often, things have been coming my way so fast from other directions that I
- haven't had much opportunity to dwell on the matter. And for these
- compensating offsets, good Lord, I thank thee.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He was John Stuart Webster again when Dolores saw him next; during the
- succeeding days his mood of cheerfulness and devil-may-care indifference
- never left him. And throughout that period of marking time Dolores was
- much in his society, a condition which he told himself was not to his
- liking but which, nevertheless, he could not obviate without seeming
- indifferent to her happiness. And to permit his friend's fiancee to
- languish in loneliness and heart-break did not appear to John Stuart
- Webster as the part of a true friend or a courtly gentleman—and he
- remembered that she had once called him that.
- </p>
- <p>
- They rode together in the cool of the morning; they drove together on the
- Malecon in the cool of the evening; chaperoned by Don Juan Cafetéro and a
- grinning Sobrantean, they went shark-fishing in Leber's launch; they
- played dominoes together; they discussed, throughout the long, lazy, quiet
- afternoons, when the remainder of their world retired for the siesta,
- books, art, men, women, and things.
- </p>
- <p>
- And not once, throughout those two weeks of camaraderie, did the
- heart-racked Webster forget for a single instant that he was the new
- friend, destined to become the old friend; never, to the girl's
- watchful eyes, did he betray the slightest disposition to establish their
- friendly relations on a closer basis.
- </p>
- <p>
- Thus did the arrival of The Day find them. Toward sunset they rode out
- together along the bay shore and noted far out to sea the smear of smoke
- that marked the approach of La Estrellita—on schedule time. As they
- jogged homeward in the dusk, her red and green side-lights were visible as
- she crept into the harbour; above the sobbing murmur of the Caribbean
- wavelets they heard the scream of her winches and the rattle of chain as
- her anchor bit the bottom.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You will go aboard her to-night,” Webster said very quietly
- to Dolores.
- </p>
- <p>
- “And you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I shall go aboard with you. I have arranged with Don Juan for him
- to stay ashore and to come out in Leber's launch with the first
- reliable news of the conflict. If Ricardo wins the city, he wins the
- revolution, and you and I will then go ashore—to dine with him in
- the palace. If he loses the city, he loses the revolution, and we will
- both do well to remain aboard <i>La Estrellita</i>.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And in that event, what will become of my brother?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I do not know; I forgot to ask him, but if he survives, I imagine
- he'll have sense enough to know he's whipped and will retreat
- on San Bruno, fighting a rear-guard action, embark aboard the steamer that
- brought his men there, and escape.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But he has so few men,” she quavered.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Two hundred of them are white soldiers of fortune—and you
- must remember how Walker manhandled Nicaragua with that number of men.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm worried about Mother Jenks.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have asked Mother Jenks to dine with us at seven-thirty this
- evening, and have ordered a carriage to call for her. When she comes I'll
- tell her everything; then, if she wishes to stay ashore, let her. She's
- been through more than one such fracas and doesn't mind them at all,
- I dare say.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And in this Webster was right. Mother Jenks listened in profound silence,
- nodding her approval, as Webster related to her the story of the advent in
- the country of Ricardo Ruey and his plans, but without revealing the
- identity of Andrew Bowers.
- </p>
- <p>
- At the conclusion of his recital the old publican merely said: “Gor'
- bli' me!”
- </p>
- <p>
- After a silence she added: “My sainted 'Enery used to s'y
- the proper hodds for a white man in a bally row o' this nature was
- forty to one. 'The spiggoty,' says 'e, shoots from
- 'is 'ip, but the wisitin' brother's spent 'is
- 'prenticeship at the butts some-w'ere or other an'
- 'as bloomin' well learned to sight an' 'old his
- breath 'arf in an' 'arf out when 'e pulls. Gor',
- but how my sainted 'Enery would henjoy bein' 'ere this
- night to 'elp with the guns.” She sighed.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How about a little bottle of wine to drink peace to your sainted
- Henry and luck to The Cause?” Webster suggested.
- </p>
- <p>
- “That's wot I calls talkin',” Mother Jenks
- responded promptly, and Webster, gazing reflectively at the old lady's
- beard, wondered why she had not been born a man.
- </p>
- <p>
- Dolores, fearful for her benefactor's safety, urged Mother Jenks to
- accompany them out aboard <i>La Estrellita</i>, but the old dame
- indignantly refused, and when pressed for a reason gave it with the utmost
- frankness: “They'll be tykin' Sarros, an' when
- they tyke 'im they'll back him ag'in the same wall he
- backed my sainted 'Enery and your father against, my dear. I've
- a notion that your father's son 'll let Mrs. Colonel 'Enery
- Jenks come to the party.”
- </p>
- <p>
- At ten o'clock Webster accompanied Mother Jenks home in the
- carriage, which he dismissed at El Buen Amigo—with instructions to
- return to the hotel while he continued afoot down the Calle San Rosario to
- the bay, where Leber's huge corrugated-iron warehouse loomed darkly
- above high-water mark. If there was light within, it was not visible, but
- Webster, pausing and listening at one corner of the great structure, could
- hear the confused murmur of many voices, with an occasional hearty oath in
- English rising above the murmur.
- </p>
- <p>
- He slipped along in the deep shadow of the warehouse wall and out on the
- end of the little dock, where he satisfied himself that Leber's
- launch was at its moorings; then he went back to the warehouse and
- whistled softly, whereupon a man crawled out from under the structure and
- approached him. It was Don Juan Cafetéro.
- </p>
- <p>
- “They're all inside,” he whispered and laid finger on
- lip. “A lad came down at eight o'clock, took Leber's
- launch an' wint out to the steamer afther thim. They got in half an
- hour ago, an' divil a sowl the wiser save meself.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thank you, John. Now that I know the coast is clear and the launch
- ready, I'll go back to the hotel for Miss Ruey.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Very well, sor,” Don Juan replied, and crawled back under the
- warehouse.
- </p>
- <p>
- Half an hour later the sound of hoofbeats warned him of the approach of
- Webster and Dolores in a carriage, and he came forth, loaded in the launch
- such baggage as they had been enabled to bring, and held the gunwale of
- the boat while his passengers stepped aboard.
- </p>
- <p>
- While Don Juan cast off the painter, Webster primed the motor and turned
- it over; with a snort it started, and under Webster's guidance the
- launch backed swiftly out into the bay, where Don Juan lighted the
- side-lights and riding-light, and loafed off into the darkness.
- </p>
- <p>
- About a half a mile off shore Webster throttled down the motor until the
- launch barely made steerage way. “It would never do to go aboard the
- steamer <i>before</i> the fracas started ashore,” he explained to
- Dolores. “That would indicate a guilty knowledge of coming events,
- and in the event of disaster to the rebel arms it is just possible Senor
- Sarros might have pull enough, if he hears of our flight six hours in
- advance of hostilities, to take us off the steamer and ask us to explain.
- So we'll just cruise slowly around and listen; the attack will come
- just before dawn; then shortly thereafter we can scurry out to the steamer
- and be welcomed aboard for the sake of the news we bring.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She did not answer, and Webster knew her thoughts were out where the
- arc-lights on the outskirts of Buenaventura met the open country—out
- where the brother she could scarcely remember and whom, until a month
- previous, she had believed dead, would shortly muster his not too numerous
- followers.
- </p>
- <p>
- In the darkness Webster could hear the click of her beads as she prayed;
- on the turtle deck forward.
- </p>
- <p>
- Don Juan Cafetéro sprawled, thinking perchance of his unlovely past and
- wondering what effect the events shortly to transpire ashore would have on
- his future. He wished Webster would relent and offer him a drink some time
- within the next twenty-four hours. In times of excitement like the present
- a man needs a drop to brace him up.
- </p>
- <p>
- Five times the launch slipped lazily down the harbour along the straggling
- two mile water-front; five times it loafed back. The moon, which was in
- the first quarter, sank. For the hundredth time Don Juan Cafetéro chanted
- dolorously “The Death of Sarsfield” and the tuneful glories of
- the late O'Donnel Abu—and then to Webster's alert ear
- there floated across the still waters the sound of a gentle purring—the
- music of an auto-truck. He set the launch in toward Leber's little
- dock, and presently they saw the door of Leber's warehouse open. Men
- with lanterns streamed forth, lighting the way for others who bore between
- them heavy burdens.
- </p>
- <p>
- “They're emplacing the machine guns in the motor-truck,”
- he whispered to Dolores. “We will not have to wait long now. It's
- nearly four o'clock.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Again they backed out into the bay until they could see far out over the
- sleeping city to the hills beyond in the west. Presently along the side of
- those hills the headlight of a locomotive crept, dropping swiftly down
- grade until it disappeared in the lowlands.
- </p>
- <p>
- A half-hour passed; then to the south of the city a rocket flared skyward;
- almost instantly another flared from the west, followed presently by a
- murmur, scarcely audible, as of a muffled snare drum, punctuated presently
- by a louder, sharper, insistent <i>puck-puch-puch-puch</i> that, had
- Webster but known it, was the bark of a Maxim-Vickers rapid-fire gun
- throwing a stream of shells into the cantonments of the government troops
- on the fringe of the city.
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster's pulse quickened. He was possessed of that feeling which
- actuates a small boy to follow the fire-engines. “There goes the
- 'tillery to the south, sor,” Don Juan called, and even as he
- spoke, a shell burst gloriously over the government palace, the white
- walls of which were already looming over the remainder of the city, now
- faintly visible in the approaching dawn.
- </p>
- <p>
- “That was to awaken our friend Sarros,” Webster cried. “I'll
- bet a buffalo nickel that woke the old horsethief up. There's
- another—and another.” The uproar swelled, the noise gradually
- drifting around the city from west to south, forming, seemingly, a
- semicircle of sound. “The government troops are up and doing now,”
- Webster observed, and speeded up his motor. “I think it high time we
- played the part of frightened refugees. When that machine-gun company with
- its infantry escort starts up through the city from Leber's
- warehouse it may encounter early opposition—and I've heard
- that Mauser bullets kill at three miles. Some strays may drop out here in
- the bay.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He speeded the launch toward <i>La Estrellita</i>, and as the craft
- scraped in alongside the great steamer's companion landing, her
- skipper ran down the ladder to greet them and inquire eagerly of the trend
- of events ashore.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We left in a hurry the instant it started,” Webster
- explained. “As Americans, we didn't figure we had any interest
- in that scrap, either way.” He handed Dolores out on the landing
- stage, tossed their baggage after her and followed; Don Juan took the
- wheel, and the launch slid out and left them there.
- </p>
- <p>
- At the head of the companion ladder Webster paused and turned for another
- look at Buenaventura. To the west three great fires now threw a lurid
- light skyward, mocking an equally lurid light to the east, that marked the
- approach of daylight. He smiled. “Those are the cantonment barracks
- burning,” he whispered to Dolores. “Ricardo is keeping his
- word. He's driving the rats back into their own holes.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXIV
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE weeks of clean
- living, of abstention from his wonted daily alcoholic ration, had inspired
- in Don Juan Cafetéro a revival of his all but defunct interest in life;
- conversely, in these stirring times, he was sensible of an equally acute
- interest in Sobrantean politics, for he was Irish; and flabby indeed is
- that son of the Green Little Isle who, wherever he may be, declines to
- take a hand in any public argument. For the love of politics, like the
- love of home, is never dead in the Irish. It is instinct with them—the
- heritage, perhaps, of centuries of oppression and suppression, which
- nurtures rather than stifles the yearning for place and power. Now as Don
- Juan turned Leber's launch shoreward and kicked the motor wide open,
- he, too, descried against the dawn the glare of the burning cantonments
- west of the city, and at the sight his pulse beat high with the lust of
- battle, the longing to be in at the death in this struggle, where the
- hopes and aspirations of those he loved were at stake.
- </p>
- <p>
- Two months previously a revolution would have been a matter of extreme
- indifference to Don Juan; he would have reflected that it was merely the
- outs trying to get in, and that if they succeeded, the sole benefit to the
- general public would be the privilege of paying the bill. It was all very
- well, perhaps, to appoint a new <i>jefe politico</i>, if only for the sake
- of diversion, but new or old they “jugged” or booted Don Juan
- Cafetéro impartially from time to time; the lowliest peon could shoulder
- the derelict off the narrow sidewalks, while the policeman on the beat
- looked on and grinned. Consequently, drunk or sober, Don Juan would not
- have fought with or for a Sobrantean, since he knew from experience that
- either line of activity was certain to prove unprofitable. To-day,
- however, in the knowledge that he had an opportunity to fight beside white
- men and perchance even up some old scores with the <i>Guardia Civil</i>,
- it occurred suddenly to Don Juan that it would be a brave and virtuous act
- to cast his lot with the Ruey forces. He was a being reorganized and
- rebuilt, and it behooved him to do something to demonstrate his manhood.
- </p>
- <p>
- Don Juan knew, of course, that should the rebels lose and he be captured,
- he would be executed; yet this contingency seemed a far-fetched one, in
- view of the fact that he had John Stuart Webster at his back, ready to
- finance his escape from the city. Also Don Juan had had an opportunity, in
- the hills above San Miguel de Padua, for a critical study of Ricardo Ruey
- and had come to the conclusion that at last a real man had come to
- liberate Sobrante; further, Don Juan had had ocular evidence that John
- Stuart Webster was connected with the revolution, for had he not smuggled
- Ruey into the country? It was something to be the right-hand man of the
- president of a rich little country like Sobrante; it was also something to
- be as close to that right-hand man as Don Juan was to his master, Webster;
- consequently self-interest and his sporting code whispered to Don Juan
- that it behooved him to demonstrate his loyalty with every means at his
- command, even unto his heart's blood.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Who knows,” he cogitated as the launch bore him swiftly
- shoreward, “but what I'll acquit meself with honour and get a
- fine job undher the new administhration? 'Tis the masther's
- fight, I'm thinkin'; then, be the same token, 'tis John
- Joseph Cafferty's, win, lose or dhraw; an' may the divil damn
- me if I fail him afther what he's done for me. Sure, if Gineral Ruey
- wins, a crook av the masther's finger will make me <i>jefe 'politico</i>.
- An' if he does—hoo-roo! Hoo-ray!”
- </p>
- <p>
- With his imagination still running riot, Don Juan made the launch fast to
- the little dock, down which, he ran straight for the warehouse, where the
- Ruey mercenaries were still congregated, busily wiping the factory-grease
- from the weapons which had just been distributed to them from the
- packing-cases. A sharp voice halted him, he paused, panting, to find
- himself looking down the long blue barrel of a service pistol.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Who are you, and what are you doing here?” the man behind the
- weapon demanded brusquely.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm Private John J. Cafferty, the latest recruit to the Ruey
- army,” Don Juan answered composedly. “Who did ye think I was?
- Private secreth'ry to that divil Sarros? Man, dear, lower that gun
- av yours, for God knows I'm nervous enough as it is. Have ye
- somethin' ye could give me to fight wit,' avic?”
- </p>
- <p>
- The man who had challenged him—a lank, swarthy individual from the
- Mexican border—looked him over with twinkling eyes. “You'll
- do, Cafferty, old-timer,” he drawled, “and if you don't,
- you'll wish you had. There's a man for every rifle just now,
- but I wouldn't be surprised if there'd be a right smart more
- rifles than men before a great while. Help yourself to the gun o'
- the first man that goes down; in the meantime, hop into that there truck
- and keep the cartridge belt for the machine guns full up. You're
- just in time.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Without further ado Don Juan climbed into the truck. A little citadel of
- sheet steel had been built around the driver's seat, with a narrow
- slit in front through which the latter peered out. The body of the truck
- had been boxed in with the same material and housed two machine guns,
- emplaced, and a crew of half a dozen men crouched on the floor, busily
- engaged in loading the belts. Four motor bicycles, with sturdy, specially
- built side-cars attached, and a machine gun in each side-car, were waiting
- near by, together with a half-dozen country carts loaded with ammunition
- cases and drawn by horses.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How soon do we start?” Don Juan demanded anxiously, as he
- crowded in beside one of his newfound comrades.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I believe,” this individual replied in the unmistakable
- accents of an Oxford man, “that the plan is to wait until five o'clock;
- by that time all the government troops that can be spared from the arsenal
- and palace will have been dispatched to the fighting now taking place west
- of the city. Naturally, the government forces aren't anticipating an
- attack from the rear, and so they will, in all probability, weaken their
- base. I believe that eases our task; certainly it will save us many men.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Don Juan nodded his entire approval to this shrewd plan of campaign and
- fell to stuffing cartridges in the web belting, the while he whistled
- softly, unmusically, and with puffing, hissing sounds between his snaggle
- teeth, until a Sobrantean gentleman (it was Doctor Pacheco) came out of
- the warehouse and gave the order to proceed.
- </p>
- <p>
- They moved out silently, the Sobrantean rebels falling into line behind
- the auto-truck, the motorcycle battery, and the transport-carts, all of
- which were in charge of the machine gun company. They marched along the
- water-front for four blocks and then turned up a side street, which
- happened to be the Calle de Concordia, thus enabling Mother Jenks, who was
- peering from the doorway of El Buen Amigo, to see them coming.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hah!” she muttered. “'Enery, they're cornin'.
- The worm is turnin', 'Enery; fifteen years you've wyted
- for vengeance, my love, but to-d'y you'll get it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She waddled out into the street and held up her hand in a gesture as
- authoritative and imperious as that of a traffic officer. “Batter-r-ry
- 'alt!” she croaked. She had heard the late 'Enery give
- that command often enough to have acquired the exact inflection necessary
- to make an impression upon men accustomed to obeying such a command
- whenever given. Instinctively the column slowed up; some of the Foreign
- Legion, old coast-artillerists, no doubt, came to a halt with promptness
- and precision; all stared at Mother Jenks.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ow about 'arf a dozen cases o' good brandy for the
- wounded?” Mother Jenks suggested. “An' 'ow about a
- bally old woman for a Red Cross nurse?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You're on, ma'am,” the foreign leader replied
- promptly, and translated the old lady's suggestion to Doctor
- Pacheco, who accepted gracefully and thanked Mother Jenks in purest
- Castilian. So a detail of six men was told off to carry the six cases of
- brandy out of El Buen Amigo and load them on the ammunition carts; then
- Mother Jenks crawled up into the armoured truck with the machine-gun crew,
- and the column once more took up its line of rapid march.
- </p>
- <p>
- The objective of this unsuspected force within the city was, as Ricardo
- Ruey shrewdly suspected it might be, poorly garrisoned. Usually a force of
- fully five hundred men was stationed at the national arsenal, but the
- sharp, savage attack from the west, so sudden and unexpected, had thrown
- Sarros into a panic and left him no time to plan his defence carefully.
- His first thought had been to send all his available forces to support the
- troops bearing the brunt of the rebel attack, and it was tremendously
- important that this should be done very promptly, in view of the lack of
- information concerning the numerical force of the enemy; consequently he
- had reduced the arsenal force to one hundred men and retained only his
- favorite troop of the Guards and one company of the Fifteenth Infantry to
- protect the palace.
- </p>
- <p>
- Acting under hastily given telephonic orders, the commanding officer at
- the cantonment barracks had detailed a few hundred men to fight a
- rear-guard action while the main army fell back in good order behind a
- railway embankment which swept in a wide arc around the city and offered
- an excellent substitute for breastworks. This position had scarcely been
- attained before the furious advance of the rebels drove in the rear guard,
- and pending the capture of the arsenal, Ricardo realized his operations
- were at an <i>impasse</i>. Promptly he dug himself in, and the battle
- developed into a brisk affair of give and take, involving meagre losses to
- both factions but an appalling wastage of ammunition.
- </p>
- <p>
- The arsenal, a large, modern concrete building with tremendously thick
- walls reinforced by steel, would have offered fairly good resistance to
- the average field battery. Surrounding it on all four sides was a
- reinforced concrete wall thirty feet high, with machine-gun bastions at
- each corner and a platform along the wall, inside and twenty-five feet
- from the ground, which afforded foot room for infantry which could use the
- top five feet of the wall for protection while firing over it. There was
- but one entrance, a heavy, barred steel gate which was always kept locked
- when it was not necessary to have it opened for ingress or egress. Given
- warning of an attack and with sufficient time to prepare for it, one
- hundred of the right sort of fighting men could withstand an indefinite
- siege by a force not provided with artillery heavier than an ordinary
- field gun. With a full realization of this, therefore, Ricardo and his
- confrères had designed to accomplish by strategy that which could not be
- done by the limited forces at their command.
- </p>
- <p>
- The tread of marching men, the purr of the motorcycles and the armoured
- truck, during the progress of the invaders up the Calle de Concordia,
- aroused the dwellers in that thoroughfare. Those who appeared in their'
- doorways, however, as promptly disappeared upon recognizing this
- indubitable evidence of local disturbance. As the column approached the
- neighbourhood of the arsenal, three detachments broke away from the main
- body and disappeared down side streets, to turn at right angles later and
- march parallel with the main command. Each of these detachments was
- accompanied by one unit of the motorcycle-mounted machine-gun battery with
- its white crew; two blocks beyond the arsenal square each detachment
- leader so disposed his men as to offer spirited resistance to any sortie
- that might be made by the troops from the palace in the hope of driving
- off the attackers of the arsenal.
- </p>
- <p>
- Having thus provided for protection during its operations, the main body
- nominally under Doctor Pacheco but in reality commanded by the chief of
- the machine-gun company, proceeded to operate. With the utmost assurance
- in the world the armoured truck rolled down the street to the arsenal
- entrance, swung in and pointed its impudent nose straight at the iron bars
- while the hidden chauffeur called loudly and profanely in Spanish upon the
- sentry to open the gate and let him in—that there was necessity for
- great hurry, since he had been sent down from the palace by the <i>présidente</i>
- himself, for machine guns to equip this armoured motor-car. The sentry
- immediately called the officer of the guard, who peered out, observed
- nothing but the motor-truck, which seemed far from dangerous, and without
- further ado inserted a huge key in the lock and turned the bolt. The
- sentry swung the double gates ajar, and with a prolonged and raucous toot
- of its horn the big car loafed in. The sentry closed the gate again, while
- the officer stepped up to turn the key in the lock. Instead, he died with
- half a dozen pistol bullets through his body, while the sentry sprawled
- beside him.
- </p>
- <p>
- The prolonged toot of the motor-horn had been the signal agreed upon to
- apprise the detachment waiting in a secluded back street that the truck
- was inside the arsenal wall. With a yell they swept out of the side street
- and down on the gate, through which they poured into the arsenal grounds.
- At sound of the first shot at the gate, the <i>comandante</i> of the
- garrison, which had been drawn up in double rank for reveille roll call,
- realized he was attacked and that swift measures were necessary.
- Fortunately for him, his men were standing at attention at the time,
- preparatory to receiving from him one of those ante-battle exhortations so
- dear to the Latin soul.
- </p>
- <p>
- A sharp command, and the little garrison had fixed bayonets; another
- command, and they were in line of squads; before the auto-truck could be
- swung sideways to permit a machine gun to play on the Sobranteans in close
- formation, the latter had thrown out a skirmish fine and were charging;
- while from the guardhouse window, just inside the gate, a volley, poured
- into the unprotected rear of the truck following its passage through the
- gate, did deadly execution. The driver, a bullet through his back, sagged
- forward into his steel-clad citadel; both machine-gun operators were
- wounded, and the truck was stalled. The situation was desperate.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm a gone goose,” mourned Don Juan Cafetéro, and he
- leaped from the shambles to the ground, with some hazy notion of making
- his escape through the gate. He was too late. Two men, riding tandem on a
- motorcycle with a machine gun in the specially constructed side-car,
- appeared in the entrance and leaped off; almost before Don Juan had time
- to dodge behind the motor-truck to escape possible wild bullets, the
- machine gun was sweeping the oncoming skirmish line. Don Juan cheered as
- man after man of the garrison pitched on his face, for the odds were
- rapidly being evened now, greatly to the pleasure of the men charging
- through the gate to support the machine gun. Out into the arsenal yard
- they swept, forcing the machine-gun crew to cease firing because of the
- danger of killing their own men; with a shock bayonet met bayonet in the
- centre of the yard, and the issue was up for prompt and final decision.
- </p>
- <p>
- Don Juan's Hibernian blood thrilled; he cast about for a weapon in
- this emergency, and his glance rested on the body of the dead officer
- beside the gate. To possess himself of the latter's heavy “cut-and-thrust”
- sword was the work of seconds, and with a royal good will Don Juan
- launched himself into the heart of the scrimmage. He had a hazy impression
- that he was striking and stabbing, that others were striking and stabbing
- at him, that men crowded and breathed and pressed and swore and grunted
- around him, that the fighting-room was no better than it might have been
- but was rapidly improving. Then the gory fog lifted, and Doctor Pacheco
- had Don Juan by the hand; they stood together in the arsenal entrance, and
- the little Doctor was explaining to the war-mad Don Juan that all was over
- in so far as the arsenal was concerned—the survivors of the garrison
- having surrendered—that now, having the opportunity, he, Doctor
- Pacheco, desired to thank Don Juan Cafetéro for his life. Don Juan looked
- at him amazedly, for he hadn't the slightest idea what the Doctor
- was talking about. He spat, gazed around at the litter of corpses on the
- arsenal lawn, and nodded his red head approvingly.
- </p>
- <p>
- In an incredibly short space of time the news that the arsenal had been
- captured and that Sarros was besieged in the palace spread through the
- city. The sight of the red banner of revolution floating over the arsenal
- for the first time in fifteen years brought hundreds of willing recruits
- to the rebel ranks, as Ricardo Ruey had anticipated; these were quickly
- supplied with arms and ammunition; by ten o'clock a battalion had
- been formed and sent off, together with the machine-gun company, to
- connect with the San Bruno contingent advancing from the south to turn the
- flank of the government troops, while the equipping of an additional
- battalion proceeded within the arsenal. As fast as the new levies were
- armed, they were hurried off to reinforce the handful of white men who
- had, after clearing the arsenal, advanced on the palace and now, with
- machine guns from the arsenal commanding all avenues of escape from the
- trap wherein Sarros found himself, were calmly awaiting developments,
- merely keeping an eye open for snipers.
- </p>
- <p>
- Thus the forenoon passed away. By one o'clock Don Juan Cafetéro—who
- in the absence of close-range fighting had elected himself ordnance
- sergeant—passed out the last rifle and ammunition. He was red with
- slaughter, slippery with gun-grease, dripping with perspiration and filthy
- with dust and dirt. “Begorra,” he declared, “a cowld
- bottle av beer would go fine now.” Then, recalling his limitations,
- he sighed and put the thought from him. It revived in him, however, for
- the first time since he had left the steamer, a memory of John Stuart
- Webster, and his promise to the latter to report on the progress of the
- war. So Don Juan sought Doctor Pacheco in his headquarters and learned
- that a signal-man, heliographing from the roof of the arsenal, had been in
- communication with General Ruey, who reported the situation well in hand,
- with no doubt of an overwhelming victory before the day should be over.
- This and sundry other bits of information Don Juan gleaned and then
- deserted the Sobrantean revolutionary army quite as casually as he had
- joined it, to make his precarious way down the Calle San Rosario to the
- bay.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXV
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HROUGHOUT the
- forenoon Webster and Dolores, from the deck of the steamer, watched the
- city. Numerous fires covered it with a pall of smoke from beneath which
- came the steady crackle of machine-gun fire, mingled with the insistent
- crash of the field batteries which seemingly had moved up closer to their
- target.
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0006.jpg" alt="0006 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0006.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- By ten o'clock the sounds of battle had swelled to a deeper,
- steadier roar, and refugees arriving brought various and fragmentary
- stories of the fighting. From this hodge-podge of misinformation, however,
- Webster decided that Ricardo's troops were forcing the issue with
- vim and determination, and since the most furious fighting was now well in
- toward the heart of the city, it seemed reasonable to presume the struggle
- was for possession of the arsenal and palace.
- </p>
- <p>
- At noon the deep diapason of conflict began to slacken; by one o'clock
- it had dwindled considerably, and at two o'clock Webster, gazing
- anxiously cityward, observed Leber's launch coming rapidly out from
- shore. At the wheel stood Don Juan Cafetéro; as the launch shot in under
- the vessel's side he looked up, searching for Webster's face
- among the curious throng that lined the rail.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Faugh-a-ballagh!” he shrieked. “We've got the
- divils cornered now. 'Twill be over two hours hince.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Who has won?” a voice called, and another, evidently a
- humourist and a shrewd judge of human nature, replied: “Why ask
- foolish questions? The rebels, of course. That fellow's Irish and
- the Irish are born rebels. Look at the scoundrel. He's black with
- gun-grease and burned powder where he isn't red with blood. The
- butcher!”
- </p>
- <p>
- Don Juan tied up the launch at the gangway and leaped up the ladder, three
- steps at a time. “Glory be to God,” he panted and hurled
- himself into Webster's arms. “I was in it! I was. I got back
- in time to catch up wit' the lads at the warehouse an' they
- were the fine, fightin' divils, I'll gamble you. Och, 'twas
- a grrand bit av a fight—whilst it lasted. They put me in the
- motor-thruck, loadin' the belts wit' ca'tridges as fast
- as the gunners imptied thim, but faith they couldn't keep me there.
- I got into the heart av the scrimmage in the yard av the arsenal an'
- faith 'twas well for that little Docthor Pacheco I did. 'Twas
- wurrk to me likin'. I'd a machete——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You bloodthirsty scoundrel!” Webster shook the war-mad son of
- Erin. “I told you not to mix in it, but to hang around on the fringe
- of the fight, and bring us early news. Suppose you'd been killed?
- Who would have come for us then? Didn't I tell you we had a dinner
- engagement in the palace?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Me on the fringes av a fight,” sputtered Don Juan, amazed and
- outraged. “Take shame for yerself, sor. There was niver the likes av
- me hung around the fringes av a fight, an' well ye know it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm amazed that you even remembered your instructions,”
- Webster rasped at him.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sure, our division had cl'aned up nicely an' I had
- nothin' else to do, God bless ye. They were besiegin' the
- palace whin I left, an' small chance av takin' it for a couple
- av hours; what fightin' there was on the outside was shtreet shootin'—an'
- not to me likin'.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Is it quite safe to bring Miss Ruey ashore, John?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Tis safe enough at the Hotel Mateo. We have the city for
- half a mile beyant, in the rear av them—an' they're not
- fightin' to get to the bay. The Guards an' some av the
- Fifteenth Infanthry regimint are in the palace an' the <i>cuartel</i>
- close by, an' thim that we failed to get in the arsenal have j'ined
- thim. But the bulk av the Sarros army is thryin' to break t'rough
- to the south an' west, to get to the hills. D'ye mind the spur
- thrack that runs in a semi-cirrcle around the city? Well, thin, the rebels
- are behint the embankmint, takin' it aisy. Have no worry, sor. Whin
- we've took the palace we'll move on an' dhrive the
- vagàbones from behint up to that railroad embankmint, where <i>Gineral
- Ruey</i> can bid them the time av day.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster turned to Dolores. “Do you wish to go ashore?”
- </p>
- <p>
- She nodded, her flashing eyes bent in admiration upon the gory, grimy Don
- Juan Cafetéro, for she was half Irish, and in that amazing meeting she
- knew the outcast for one of her blood. “I think my brother will
- sleep in his father's old room to-night,” she murmured softly.
- “And I would sleep in mine.”
- </p>
- <p>
- They followed Don Juan down the gangway to the launch and sped back to the
- city. The door of Leber's warehouse stood wide open; within was a
- litter of greasy rags and broken packing cases, with Leber, quite
- mystified, sitting on a keg of nails and staring curiously at it all.
- </p>
- <p>
- Guided by Don Juan Cafetéro, Webster and Dolores passed on up the Calle
- San Rosario. Occasionally a bullet, fired two or three miles to the west,
- droned lazily overhead or dropped with a sharp metallic sound on the
- corrugated-iron roofs of a building. At the hotel the proprietor alone was
- in evidence, seated behind the desk smoking in profound indifference.
- </p>
- <p>
- In response to Webster's eager inquiries for the latest news from
- the front, the placid fellow shrugged and murmured: “<i>Quien sabe?</i>”
- Evidently for him such stirring scenes had long since lost their novelty;
- the bloom was off the peach, as it were.
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster went upstairs and helped himself to another automatic and several
- spare clips of shells which he had left in his trunk. On his return to the
- lobby, Dolores saw what a very near sighted person, indeed, would have
- seen—to wit: that he was not pleased to remain in the hotel and with
- the spirit of adventure strong within him was desirous of progressing
- still farther toward the firing, in the hope of eliciting some favourable
- news as to the progress of the fight. She realized, however, that he would
- do his duty and remain with her in the hotel; so she said gaily:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Suppose we walk out a little farther, Caliph. Many of the side
- streets will be as safe and peaceful as one could desire, and if warfare
- should develop in our vicinity we can step into some house.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I do not like to have you run the slightest risk——”
- he began, but she pooh-poohed him into silence, took him by the arm with a
- great air of camaraderie, and declared they should go forth to adventure—but
- cautiously.
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster glanced at Don Juan. “We can go a half or three quarters av
- a mile out the Calle San Rosario, sor,” the Irishman answered.
- “After that 'twill not be a pleasant sight for the young leddy—an'
- there may be some shootin'. Squads av the governmint throops took
- refuge in the houses an' took to snipin'. 'Twill be
- shlow wurrk roundin' the last av thim up. Even afther the fight is
- over, there'll be scatterin' shootin' scrapes all av the
- night long, I'm thinkin'.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “At the slightest danger we'll turn back,” Webster
- announced, and with Don Juan Cafetéro scouting the way a block in advance
- they progressed slowly toward the centre of the disturbance.
- </p>
- <p>
- Soon they passed a horse dead in the middle of the street; a little
- farther on one of the machine-gun company, a lank Texan, sat on the curb
- rolling a cigarette with his left hand. He had a bullet through his right
- shoulder and another through the calf of his left leg and had received no
- first aid attention; the flies were bothering him considerably and he was
- cursing softly and fluently, like the ex-mule-skinner he was.
- </p>
- <p>
- Farther on another white invader lay face down in the gutter; for him the
- fight had ended almost ere it had begun. In the next block half a dozen
- sandal-footed Sobranteans, in the blue and red-trimmed uniform of the <i>Guardia
- Civil</i>, lay spawled in uncouth attitudes, where the first blast of a
- machine gun had caught them as they rushed out of the police station to
- repel the advancing mercenaries.
- </p>
- <p>
- Seeing that the main street of the city would assume even a more grisly
- aspect the longer they followed it, Don Juan led Webster and Dolores a
- couple of blocks down a cross-street and turned out into the Calle de
- Hernandez, parallel to the Calle San Rosario. There had been no shooting
- in this street, apparently; as they proceeded not even a stray bullet
- whined down the silent calle.
- </p>
- <p>
- Four blocks from the government palace, however, they found the narrow
- sidewalks of this quiet street lined with wounded from both sides, with a
- doctor and half a dozen of Ricardo's hired fighters ministering to
- them; as they threaded their way between the recumbent figures they came
- upon Mother Jenks, brandy bottle and glass in hand, “doing her bit.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hah! So here you are, my lamb,” she greeted Dolores. “Right-o.
- Just where yer ought to be, Gor' bless yer sweet face. Let these
- poor misfortunate lads see that the sister o' the new president ain't
- too proud to care for 'em. 'Ere, lass. 'Old up the
- 'ead o' this young cockerel with the 'ole in 'is
- neck. 'Ere, lad. Tyke a brace now! 'Ere's some o'
- your own people, not a lot o' bloomin' yeller-bellies, come to
- put something else in yer neck—somethink that'll stimulate
- yer.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The “young cockerel,” a blond youth of scarce twenty summers,
- twisted his head and grinned up at Dolores as she knelt beside him to lift
- him up. “Here, here, sister,” he mumbled, “you'll
- get that white dress dirty. Never mind me. It's just a flesh wound,
- only my neck has got stiff and I'm weak from loss of blood.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mother Jenks winked at Webster as she set a glass of brandy to the
- stricken adventurer's lips. “Give me a bit o' the white
- meat, as my sainted 'Enery used to s'y,” she murmured
- comically.
- </p>
- <p>
- Dolores looked up at Webster. “I'll stay here,” she said
- simply. “I've found a job helping Mother Jenks. You and Don
- Juan may run along if you wish. I know you're as curious as
- children.”
- </p>
- <p>
- They were. It would have been impossible for any man with red corpuscles
- in his blood to harken to the shooting and shouts only three city blocks
- distant without yearning to see the fight itself.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'll return in fifteen minutes, at the latest,” he
- promised her, and with Don Juan Cafetéro, who had helped himself to a
- rifle and bayonet from one of the wounded, he turned the corner into the
- next street and started back toward the Calie San Rosario, which they
- followed west through a block plentifully sprinkled with the dead of both
- factions.
- </p>
- <p>
- Don Juan led the way through an alley in the rear of the Catedral de la
- Santa Cruz to the door of the sacristy; as he placed his hand on the latch
- three rifle bullets struck around them, showering them with fragments of
- falling adobe.
- </p>
- <p>
- “There's a house party in the neighbourhood,” yelled Don
- Juan and darted into the church, with Webster at his heels, just in time
- to escape another fusillade. They walked through the sacristy and passed
- through a door into the great cathedral, with its high, carved,
- Gothic-arched ceiling. Through the thick closed doors of the main
- entrance, lost in the dimness of space out in front, the sounds of the
- battle half a block away seemed very distant, indeed.
- </p>
- <p>
- They passed the altar and Don Juan genuflected and crossed himself
- reverently. “I'll be afther makin' me confession,”
- he whispered to Webster. “Wait for me, sor.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He leaned his rifle against the altar railing, crossed the church and
- touched lightly on the shoulder a monk kneeling in prayer before the altar
- of the Virgin; the latter bent his head while Don Juan whispered; then he
- rose and both went into the confessional, while Webster found a bench
- along the wall and waited.
- </p>
- <p>
- Presently Don Juan came forth, knelt on the red-tiled floor and prayed—something,
- Webster suspected, he had not done for quite a while. And when he had
- finished his supplication and procured his rifle, Webster joined him, the
- monk unbolted the door and from the quiet of the house of God they passed
- out into the street and the tumult of hell.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I've been dost to death this day,” Don Juan explained,
- “an' the day is not done. Be the same token, 'tis long
- since I'd made me last confession; sure, until you picked me out av
- the mire, sor, 'tis little thought I had for the hereafter.”
- </p>
- <p>
- They were standing on the steps of the cathedral as Don Juan spoke, and
- from their place they could see a dozen or more of Ricardo's hired
- fighters crouched under the shelter of the palace walls across the street.
- “I think we'll be safer there,” Webster cried, as a
- couple of bullets struck the stone steps at their feet and ricocheted
- against the cathedral door. “That rifle of yours is making you a
- marked man, Don Juan.”
- </p>
- <p>
- They ran across the street and joined the men under the palace wall.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What's this?” Don Juan demanded briskly. “Have ye
- not shmoked thim out yet?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Noddings doing,” a young German answered. “Der chief
- has sent word dot we shall not artillery use on der balace. Men all
- aroundt it we haf, mit a machine gun commanding each gate; most of der
- poys have chust moved out west in der rear of der government troops.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then,” Don Juan declared with conviction, “there'll
- be no fighting here to speak av, until later.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Der is blenty of choy hunting snipers, <i>mein freund</i>. Der
- houses hereabouts vos filled mit dem.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'll have no cat fights in mine,” Don Juan retorted.
- “Come wit' me, sor, an' we'll be in at the death
- out beyant at the railroad embankmint.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Too late,” Webster answered, for on the instant to the west
- the crackle of rifle and machine-gun fire interluded with the staccato
- barks of a Maxim-Vickers broke out, swelling almost immediately to a
- steady outpouring of sound. “We'll stay here where we're
- safe for the finals. When General Ruey has cleaned up out there he'll
- come here to take command.”
- </p>
- <p>
- For half an hour the sounds of a brisk engagement to the west did not
- slacken; then with disconcerting suddenness the uproar died away fully 50
- per cent.
- </p>
- <p>
- “They're going in with the bayonet and machetes,”
- somebody who knew remarked laconically. “Wait and you'll hear
- the cheering.”
- </p>
- <p>
- They waited fully ten minutes, but presently, as the firing gradually died
- away, they heard it, faint and indistinguishable at first, but gradually
- coming nearer. And presently the trapped men in the palace heard it, too.
- “Viva Ruey! Viva! Viva Ruey!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “All over but the shouting,” Don Juan remarked disgustedly.
- “The lads in the palace will surrindher now. Sure Gineral Ruey was
- right afther all. For why should he shoot holes in the house he's
- goin' to live in, an' where, be the same token, he gives a
- dinner party this night?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm glad the end is in sight,” Webster replied. “We
- have no interest in this revolution, John, and it isn't up to us to
- horn in on the play; yet if it went against the Ruey faction, I fear we'd
- be forced into active service in spite of ourselves. There is such a thing
- as fighting to save one's skin, you know.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Don Juan laughed pleasurably. “What a shame we missed the row out
- beyant at the railroad em-bankmint,” he declared.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I wish you'd kept out of it, Don Juan. What business had you
- in the fight at the <i>cuartd?</i> Suppose you'd been killed?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Small loss!” Don Juan retorted.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I should have mourned you nevertheless, John.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Would you that same?” Don Juan's buttermilk eyes
- lighted with affection and pleasure. “Would it put a pang in the
- heart of you, sor, to see me stretched?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, it would, John. You're a wild, impulsive, lunatic,
- worthless Irishman, but there's a broad vein of pay-ore in you, and
- I want you to live until I can develop it. When Mr. Geary returns to
- operate the mine, he'll need a foreman he can trust.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And do you trust me, sor?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I do indeed, John. By the way, you never gave me your word of
- honour to cut out red liquor for keeps. Up till to-day I've had to
- watch you—and I don't want to do that. It isn't
- dignified for either of us, and from to-day on you must be a man or a
- mouse. If you prove yourself a man, I want you in my business; if you
- prove yourself a mouse, somebody else may have you. How about you, John?
- The <i>cantinas</i> will be open to-night, and firewater will be free to
- the soldiers of the new republic. Must I watch you to-night?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Don Juan shook his reckless red head. “I'll never let a drop
- of liquor cross my lips without your permission, sor,” he promised
- simply. “I am the man and you are the master.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “We'll shake hands on that!” After the western habit of
- validating all verbal agreements with a handshake, Webster thrust his hard
- hand out to his man, who took it in both of his and held it for half a
- minute. He wanted to speak, but couldn't; he could only bow his head
- as his eyes clouded with the tears of his appreciation. “Ah, sor,”
- he blurted presently, “I'd die for ye an' welcome the
- chanst.”
- </p>
- <p>
- A wild yell of alarm broke out in the next block, at the north gate of the
- palace; there was a sudden flurry of rifle fire and cries of “Here
- they come! Stop them! Stop them! They're breaking out!”
- </p>
- <p>
- Without awaiting orders the hired fighters along the wall—some
- fifteen of them—leaped out into the street, forming a skirmish line,
- just as a troop of cavalry, with drawn sabres, swept around the corner and
- charged upon the devoted little line. “Sarros must be thryin'
- to make his get-away,” Don Juan Cafetéro remarked coolly, and
- emptied a saddle. “They threw open the big palace gate, an'
- the Guards are clearin' a way for him to the bay.” He emptied
- another saddle.
- </p>
- <p>
- In the meantime Ricardo's fire-eaters had not been idle. The instant
- the Guards turned into the street a deadly magazine fire had been opened
- on them. They had already suffered heavily winning through the gate and
- past the besiegers in front of it, but once they turned the corner into
- the next street they had the fire of but a handful of men to contend with.
- Nevertheless it was sufficiently deadly. Many of the horses in the front
- rank went down with their riders, forcing the maddened animals behind to
- clear their carcasses by leaping over them, which some did. Many, however,
- tripped and stumbled in their wild gallop, spilling their riders.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Stay by the wall, you madman,” Webster ordered. “There'll
- be enough left to ride down those men in the street and sabre them!”
- </p>
- <p>
- And there were! They died to a man, and the sadly depleted troop of Guards
- galloped, on, leaving Don Juan and Webster unscathed on the sidewalk, the
- only two living men unhurt in that shambles.
- </p>
- <p>
- Not for long, however, did they have the street to themselves. Around the
- corner of the palace wall a limousine, with the curtains drawn, swung on
- two wheels, skidded, struck the carcass of a horse and turned over,
- catapulting the chauffeur into the middle of the street.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sarros!” shrieked Don Juan and ran to the overturned vehicle.
- It was quite empty.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Bully boy, Senor Sarros,” Webster laughed. “He's
- turned à pretty trick, hasn't he? Sent his Guards out to hack a
- pathway for an empty limousine! That means he's hoping to draw the
- watchers from the other gate!”
- </p>
- <p>
- But Don Juan Cafetéro was not listening; he was running at top speed for
- the south gate of the palace grounds—and Webster followed.
- </p>
- <p>
- As they swung into the street upon which this south gate opened, Webster
- saw that it was deserted of all save the dead, for Sarros's clever
- ruse had worked well and had had the effect of arousing the curiosity of
- his enemies as to the cause of the uproar at the north gate, in
- consequence of which they had all scurried around the block to see what
- they could see, thus according Sarros the thing he desired most—a
- fighting chance and a half minute to get through the gate and headed for
- the steamship landing without interference.
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster and Don Juan came abreast the high, barred gate in the thick,
- twenty-foot masonry wall as the barrier swung back and a man, in civilian
- clothes, thundered through on a magnificent bay thoroughbred.
- </p>
- <p>
- “That's him. Shtop the divil!” screamed Don Juan.
- “They'll do the decent thing be me if I take him alive.”
- </p>
- <p>
- To Webster, who had acquired the art of snap shooting while killing time
- in many a lonely camp, the bay charger offered an easy mark. “Hate
- to down that beautiful animal,” he remarked—and pulled away.
- </p>
- <p>
- The horse leaped into the air and came down stifflegged; Sarros spurred it
- cruelly, and the gallant beast strove to gather itself into its stride,
- staggered and sank to its knees, as with a wild Irish yell Don Juan
- Cafetéro reached the dictator's side.
- </p>
- <p>
- Sarros drew a revolver, but before he could use it Don Juan tapped him
- smartly over the head with his rifle barrel, and the man toppled inertly
- to the ground beside his dying horse.
- </p>
- <p>
- “More power to ye, sor,” Don Juan called cheerily and turned
- to receive Webster's approval.
- </p>
- <p>
- What he saw paralyzed him for an instant. Webster was standing beside the
- gate, firing into a dozen of Sarros's soldiery who were pouring out
- of a house just across the street, where for an hour they had crouched
- unseen and unheard by the Ruey men at the gate. They were practically out
- of ammunition and had merely been awaiting a favourable opportunity to
- escape before the rebels should enter the city in force and the
- house-to-house search for snipers should begin. They had been about to
- emerge and beat a hasty retreat, when Sarros rode out at the gate, and
- with a rush they followed, gaining the sidewalk in time to be witnesses to
- the dictator's downfall.
- </p>
- <p>
- For a moment they had paused, huddled on the sidewalk behind their
- officer, who, turning to scout the street up and down, beheld John Stuart
- Webster standing by the gate with an automatic in his hand. At the same
- instant Webster's attention had been attracted to the little band on
- the sidewalk; in their leader he recognized no less a personage than his
- late acquaintance, the fire-eating Captain José Benavides. Coincidently
- Benavides recognized Webster.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was an awkward situation. Webster realized the issue was about to be
- decided, that if he would have it in his favour, he should waste not one
- split-second before killing the mercurial Benavides as the latter stood
- staring at him. It was not a question, now, of who should beat the other
- to the draw, for each had already filled his hand. It was a question,
- rather, as to who should recover first from his astonishment. If Benavides
- decided to let bygones be bygones and retreat without firing a shot, then
- Webster was quite willing to permit him to pass unmolested; indeed, such
- was his aversion to shooting any man, so earnestly did he hope the
- Sobrantean would consider that discretion was the better part of valour,
- that he resolved to inculcate that idea in the Hotspur.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Captain Benavides,” he said suavely, “your cause is
- lost. If you care to escape aboard the steamer, I will see to it that you
- are not removed from her before she sails; if you care to surrender to me
- now, I give you my word of honour you will not be executed.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Benavides might have had, and doubtless did have, his faults, but
- cowardice was not one of them. And he did have the ghost of a sense of
- humour. An evil smile flitted over his olive features.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Without taking into consideration the bayonets at my back,”
- he replied, “it strikes me the odds are even now. And yet you
- patronize me.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster was nettled. “I'd rather do that than kill you,
- Benavides,” he retorted. “Don't be a fool. Run along and
- sell your papers, and take your pitiful little sandal-footed brigands with
- you. Scat!”
- </p>
- <p>
- Benavides's hand, holding his pistol, had been hanging loosely at
- his side. With his furious glance meeting Webster's unfalteringly,
- with the merest movement of his wrist and scarcely without movement of his
- forearm, he threw up his weapon and fired. Scarcely a fifth of a second
- had elapsed between the movement of his wrist and the pressure of his
- finger on the trigger; Webster, gazing steadily into the sombre eyes, had
- noted no hint of the man's intention, and was actually caught off
- his guard.
- </p>
- <p>
- The bullet tore through his biceps, momentarily paralyzing him, and his
- automatic dropped clattering to the sidewalk; as he stooped and recovered
- it, Benavides fired again, creasing the top of his left shoulder. The
- Sobrantean took aim for a third and finishing shot, but when he pulled the
- trigger the hammer fell on a defective cartridge, which gave to John
- Stuart Webster all the advantage he craved. He planted a bullet in
- Benavides's abdomen with his first shot, blew out the duelist's
- brains with his second, and whirled to meet the charge of the little
- sandal-footed soldados, who, seeing their leader fallen, had without an
- instant's hesitation and apparently by mutual consent decided to
- avenge him.
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster backed dazedly toward the wall, firing as he did so, but he was
- too dizzy to shoot effectively, and the semicircle of bayonets closed in
- on his front. He had wounded three men without stopping them; a second
- more, and their long, eighteen-inch bayonets would have been in his
- vitals, when into the midst of the mêlée, from the rear, dashed Don Juan
- Cafetéro, shrieking like a fiend and swinging his rifle, which he held
- grasped by the barrel.
- </p>
- <p>
- Webster saw a bayonet lunging toward him. He lifted his leg and caught the
- point on his boot-heel while with his last cartridge he killed the man
- behind the bayonet, just as the latter's next-rank man thrust
- straight and true in under the American's left arm, while a third
- man jabbed at his stomach and got the bayonet home in his hip. These two
- thrusts, delivered almost simultaneously, by their impact carried their
- victim backward against the wall, against which his head collided with a
- smart thud. He fell forward on his face; before his assailants could draw
- back for a finishing thrust, in case the gringo needed it, which they
- doubted, Don Juan Cafetéro had brained them both.
- </p>
- <p>
- Standing above the man he loved, with the latter's body between his
- outspread legs, Don Juan Cafetéro stood for the final accounting, his
- buttermilk eyes gleaming hatred and war-madness, his lips drawn back from
- his snaggle teeth, his breast rising and falling as they closed in around
- him. For a few seconds he was visible swinging his rifle like a flail,
- magnificent, unterrified—and then a bayonet slipped in under his
- guard. It was the end.
- </p>
- <p>
- With a final great effort that used up the last strength in his
- drink-corroded muscles he hurled his rifle into the midst of his four
- remaining enemies, before he swayed and toppled full length on top of
- Webster, shielding with his poor body the man who had fanned to flame the
- dying ember of manhood in the wreck that drink and the devil had cast up
- on the Caribbean coast.
- </p>
- <p>
- For Don Juan Cafetéro it had been a long, joyous, thirsty day, but at last
- the day was done. And in order to make certain, a <i>soldado</i> jabbed
- him once more through the vitals before he fled with the other survivors.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXVI
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">F</span>OR half an hour
- after Webster left her to assist the great-hearted Mother Jenks in her
- rough care of the wounded, Dolores, absorbed in her work of mercy, gave
- all of her thought to the grim task before her. The cries, followed by the
- sudden, savage outbreak of fire when the Guards made their dash from the
- palace, brought Webster and Don Juan to mind instantly. In a quick access
- of terror and apprehension she clung, trembling, to stolid old Mother
- Jenks.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Somebody's breakin' in or breakin' out,”
- the veteran decided calmly. “Come to the corner, dearie, an'
- 'ave a look.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She half dragged Dolores to the corner, from which they had an
- unobstructed view down the cross-street to its intersection three blocks
- distant with the Calle San Rosario; consequently they saw the dozen or
- more survivors of that ill-fated dash from the north gate of the palace
- flash for a second across their line of vision. Mother Jenks croaked
- dismally, like a disreputable old raven; she was trying to cheer.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The rats are leavin' the sinkin' ship,” she
- wheezed. “Come an' see them tyke the devils as killed my
- sainted 'Enery.” She broke eagerly from Dolores's
- detaining grasp and ran down the street. Dolores hesitated a moment; then,
- reasoning that her duty lay in pursuing Mother Jenks and preventing her
- from rushing headlong into the conflict, she followed.
- </p>
- <p>
- Evidently the fleeing Guards had scurried around a corner into a
- cross-street shortly after Dolores and Mother Jenks had seen them gallop
- past, for the firing down the Calle San Rosario had ceased entirely by the
- time they reached it. They stood a moment at the corner, gazing up the
- street at the dead—man and beast—with the wounded crawling out
- of the shambles to the sidewalk.
- </p>
- <p>
- Mother Jenks nodded approvingly as triumphant shouts from the north gate
- told her the Ruey men were pouring into the palace; with their arms about
- each other the two women watched and waited—and presently the
- national flag on the palace came fluttering down from its staff, to be
- raised again with the red banner of revolution fluttering above it, the
- insignia of a nation reborn.
- </p>
- <p>
- “My lamb,” Mother Jenks said softly to Dolores, “the war
- is over. Wot's the matter with goin' in the south gate an'
- wytin' on the palace steps for the provisional president to make his
- grand ountray? If we 'esitate five minutes they'll have a
- bloomin' guard on both gates, arskin' us 'oo we are an'
- wot we want.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But Mr. Webster will come to that back street looking for me; I
- must go back and wait there for him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Wyte, nothink!” Mother Jenks overruled the girl's
- protest roughly. “'E'll 'ave gone into the palace
- with the crowd for a look-see; we'll meet 'im there an'
- syve 'im the trouble o' 'untin' for us. Come!”
- And she half dragged the shrinking girl toward the gate, a block distant,
- where only a few minutes before Webster and Don Juan Cafetéro had made
- their ineffectual stand.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Don't look at the blighters, honey,” Mother Jenks
- warned Dolores when, in approaching the gate, she caught sight of the
- bodies strewed in front of it. “My word! Regular bally mess—an'
- all spiggoties! Cawn't be. Must 'ave been some white meat on
- this bird, as my sainted 'Enery uster s'y. Hah! Thought so!
- There's a red-headed 'un! Gawd's truth! An'
- 'e done all that—Gor' strike me pink! It's Don
- Juan Cafetéro.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mother Jenks stepped over the gory corpses ringed around Don Juan and
- knelt beside him. “Don Juan!” she cried. “You bally,
- interferin' blighter, you've gone an' got it!”
- </p>
- <p>
- She ran her strong old arms under his dripping body, lifted him and laid
- his red head on her knee, while with her free hand she drew a small flask
- of brandy from her dress pocket.
- </p>
- <p>
- Don Juan opened his buttermilk eyes and gazed up at her with slowly
- dawning wonder, then closed them again, drowsily, like a tired child.
- Mother Jenks pressed the flask to his blue lips; as the brandy bit his
- tongue he rolled his fiery head in feeble protest and weakly set his teeth
- against the lip of the flask. Wondering, Mother Jenks withdrew it—and
- then Don Juan spoke.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Have ye the masther's permission, <i>allanah?</i> I give him
- me worm av honour—not—to dhrink—till—he—give—permission.
- He—was good—to me—troth he was—God—love—me—boss——”
- </p>
- <p>
- His jaw dropped loosely; his head rolled sideways; but ere his spirit
- fled, Don Juan Cafetéro had justified the faith of his master. He had kept
- his word of honour. He had made good on his brag to die for John Stuart
- Webster and welcome the chance! Mother Jenks held his body a little while,
- gazing into the face no longer rubicund; then gently she eased it to the
- ground and for the first time was aware that Dolores knelt in the dirt
- opposite to her striving to lift the body upon which Don Juan had been
- lying.
- </p>
- <p>
- The strength of Dolores was unequal to the task; so Mother Jenks,
- hardened, courageous, calm as her sainted 'Enery at his inglorious
- finish, rose and stepped around to her side to help her. She could see
- this other was a white man, too; coolly she stooped and wiped his gory
- face with the hem of her apron. And then she recognized him!
- </p>
- <p>
- “Lift him up! Give him to me!” Dolores sobbed. “Oh,
- Caliph, my poor dear, big-hearted blundering boy!”
- </p>
- <p>
- She got her arm under his head; Mother Jenks aided her; and the limp body
- was lifted to a sitting position; then Dolores knelt on one knee,
- supporting him with the other, and drew his head over on her shoulder;
- with her white cheek cuddled against his, she spoke into his deaf ears the
- little, tender, foolish words that mothers have for their children, that
- women have for the stricken men of their love. She pleaded with him to
- open his eyes, to speak to her and tell her he still lived; so close was
- his face to hers that she saw an old but very faint white scar running
- diagonally across his left eyebrow—and kissed it.
- </p>
- <p>
- Presently strong arms took him from her; clinging to somebody—she
- knew not whom—she followed, moaning broken-heartedly, while eight
- men, forming a rude litter with four rifles passed under his body, bore
- Webster to the shade of a tufted palm inside the palace gate.
- </p>
- <p>
- As they laid Webster down for a moment there Dolores saw a tall, youthful
- man, of handsome features and noble bearing, approach and look at him. In
- his eyes there were tears; a sob escaped him as with a little impulsive,
- affectionate movement he patted John Stuart Webster's cheek.
- </p>
- <p>
- “My friend!” the fainting Dolores heard him murmur. “My
- great-hearted, whimsical, lovable John Webster. You made it possible for
- me to meet you here to-night—and this is the meeting!”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXVII
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>HILE Ricardo
- watched beside the unconscious Webster one of his aides galloped up the
- street, to return presently with a detachment with stretchers, into which
- Webster and Don Juan Cafetéro were laid and carried up the palace driveway
- into the huge golden reception-hall where only the night before Sarros had
- greeted the belles and beaux of his capital. In the meantime Mother Jenks
- had succeeded in restoring Dolores to consciousness; supported by the
- indomitable old woman the girl slowly followed the grim procession until,
- at the door of the reception-room, they found their further progress
- barred by a sentry.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The red-haired man is dead,” he informed them in response to
- their eager queries. “If you want his body,” he continued,
- hazarding a guess as to their mission, “I guess you can have it.
- There he is.” And the sentry pointed to the stretcher which had been
- set down along the wall of the reception-hall.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Ow about the other?” Mother Jenks demanded. Don Juan
- Cafetéro had, unfortunately, been so much of a nuisance to her in life
- that she was not minded to be troubled greatly over him in death, although
- the Spartanlike manner of his exit had thrilled the British bulldog blood
- in her.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The big fellow isn't quite dead yet, but I'm afraid he's
- a goner. The surgeons have him in this room now. Friend of yours, Miss?”
- he inquired in tones freighted with neighbourly sympathy.
- </p>
- <p>
- Dolores nodded.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sorry I can't let you in, Miss,” he continued, “but
- the General ordered me to keep everybody out until the doctors have
- finished looking him over. If I was you, I'd wait in that room
- across the hall; then you can get the first news when the doctors come
- out.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mother Jenks accepted his advice and steered her charge into the room
- indicated. And as they waited, Ricardo Ruey stood anxiously beside the
- table on which John Stuart Webster's big, limp body reposed, while
- Doctor Pacheco, assisted by a Sobrantean confrère, went deftly over him
- with surgical scissors and cut the blood-soaked clothing from his body.
- </p>
- <p>
- “He breathes very gently,” the rebel leader said, presently.
- “Is there any hope?”
- </p>
- <p>
- The little doctor shrugged. “I fear not. That bayonet-thrust in the
- left side missed his heart but not his lung.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But apparently he hasn't bled much from that wound.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “The hemorrhage is probably internal. Even if that congestion of
- blood in the lungs does not prove fatal very shortly, he cannot, in his
- weakened state, survive the traumatic fever from all these wounds. It is
- bound—hello, how our poor friend still lives with the bayonet broken
- off in his body—for here is steel—hah! Not a bayonet, but a
- pistol.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He unbuttoned the wounded man's coat and found a strap running
- diagonally up across his breast and over the right shoulder, connecting
- with a holster under the left arm. The doctor unbuckled this strap and
- removed the holster, which contained Webster's spare gun; Ricardo,
- glancing disinterestedly at the sheathed weapon, noted a small, new,
- triangular hole in the leather holster. He picked it up, withdrew the
- pistol, and found a deep scratch, recently made, along the blued steel
- close to the vulcanite butt.
- </p>
- <p>
- When Ricardo glanced at Pacheco after his scrutiny of the pistol and
- holster, the doctor's dark eyes were regarding him mirthfully.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have been unnecessarily alarmed, my general,” said Pacheco.
- “Our dear friend has been most fortunate in his choice of wounds——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He's a lucky Yankee; that's what he is, my dear
- Pacheco. A lucky Yankee!” Ricardo leaned over and examined the
- bayonet-wound in Webster's left side. “He took the point of
- the steel on this pistol he happened to be wearing under his left arm,”
- he went on to explain. “That turned the bayonet and it slid along
- his ribs, making a superficial flesh-wound.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Pacheco nodded. “And this bullet merely burned the top of his right
- shoulder, while another passed through his biceps without touching the
- bone. His most severe wound is this jab in the hip.”
- </p>
- <p>
- They stripped every stitch of clothing from Webster and went over him
- carefully. At the back of his head they found a little clotted blood from
- a small split in the scalp; also they found a lump of generous
- proportions. Pacheco laughed briefly but contentedly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then he is not even seriously injured?” Ricardo interrupted
- that laugh.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I would die of fright if I had to fight this fine fellow a month
- from to-day,” the little doctor chirped. “Look at that chest,
- <i>mi general</i>—and that flat abdomen. The man is in superb
- physical condition; it is the bump on the head that renders him
- unconscious—not loss of blood.”
- </p>
- <p>
- As if to confirm this expert testimony Webster at that moment breathed
- long and deeply, screwed up his face and shook his head very slightly.
- Thereafter for several minutes he gave no further evidence of an active
- interest in life—seeing which Pacheco decided to take prompt
- advantage of his unconsciousness and probe the wounds in his arm and
- shoulder for the fragments of clothing which the bullets must have carried
- into them. After ten minutes of probing Pacheco announced that he was
- through and ready to bandage; whereupon John Stuart Webster said faintly
- but very distinctly, in English:
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm awfully glad you are, Doc'. It hurt like hell! Did
- you manage to get a bite on that fishing-trip?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Jack Webster, you scoundrel!” Ricardo yelled joyously, and he
- shook the patient with entire disregard of the latter's wounds.
- “Oh, man, I'm glad you're not dead.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Your sentiments appeal to me strongly, my friend. I'm—too—tired
- to look—at you. Who the devil—are you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm Ricardo.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Fell a silence, while Webster prepared for another speech. “Where am
- I?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “In the palace.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hum-m! Then it was a famous victory.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “One strong, decisive blow did the trick, old chap. We won
- pulled-up, and that forty-thousand-dollar bet of yours is safe. I'll
- cash the ticket for you tomorrow morning.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Damn the forty thousand. Where's my Croppy Boy?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Your what?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “My wild Irish blackthorn, Don Juan Cafetéro.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I hope, old man, he has ere now that which all brave Irishmen and
- true deserve—a harp with a crown. In life the Irish have the harp
- without the crown, you know.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “How did he die?” Webster whispered.
- </p>
- <p>
- “He died hard, with the holes in front—and he died for you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Two big tears trickled slowly through Webster's closed lids and
- rolled across his pale cheek. “Poor, lost, lonesome, misunderstood
- wreck,” he murmured presently, “he was an extremist in all
- things. He used to sing those wonderfully poetic ballads of his people—I
- remember one that began: 'Green were the fields where my forefathers
- dwelt.' I think his heart was in Kerry—so we'll send him
- there. He's my dead, Ricardo; care for his body, because I'm—going
- to plant Don Juan with the—shamrocks. They didn't understand
- him here. He was an exile—so I'm going to send him—home.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He shall have a military funeral,” Rocardo promised.
- </p>
- <p>
- “From the cathedral,” Webster added. “And take a picture
- of it for his people. He told me about them. I want them to think he
- amounted to something, after all. And when you get this two-by-four
- republic of yours going again, Rick, you might have your congress award
- Don Juan a thousand dollars <i>oro</i> for capturing Sarros. Then we can
- send the money to his old folks.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But he didn't capture Sarros,” Ricardo protested.
- “The man escaped when the Guards cut their way through.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He didn't. That was a ruse while he beat it out the gate
- where you found me. I saw Don Juan knock him cold with the but of his
- rifle after I'd brought down his horse.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Do you think he's there yet?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He may be—provided all this didn't happen the day
- before yesterday. If I wanted him, I'd go down and look for him,
- Rick.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'll go right away, Jack.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “One minute, then. Send a man around to that little back street
- where they have the wounded—it's a couple of blocks away from
- here—to tell Mother Jenks and the young lady with her I'll not
- be back.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “They're both outside now. They must have gone looking for
- you, because they found you and Don Juan first and then told me about it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Who told you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mother Jenks.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh! Well, run along and get your man.” Ricardo departed on
- the run, taking the sentry at the door with him and in his haste giving no
- thought to Mother Jenks and her companion waiting for the doctor's
- verdict. In the palace grounds he gathered two more men and bade them
- follow him; leading by twenty yards, he emerged at the gate and paused to
- look around him.
- </p>
- <p>
- Some hundred feet down the street from the palace gate Sarros's bay
- charger lay dead. When Webster's bullet brought the poor beast down,
- his rider had fallen clear of him, only to fall a victim to the ferocity
- of Don Juan Cafetéro. Later, as Sarros lay stunned and bleeding beside his
- mount, the stricken animal in its death-struggle had half risen, only to
- fall again, this time on the extended left leg of his late master;
- consequently when Sarros recovered consciousness following the thoughtful
- attentions of his assailant, it was to discover himself a hopeless
- prisoner. The heavy carcass of his horse pinned his foot and part of his
- leg to the ground, rendering him as helpless and desperate as a trapped
- animal. For several minutes now he had been striving frantically to
- release himself; with his sound right leg pressed against the animal's
- backbone he tried to gain sufficient purchase to withdraw his left leg
- from the carcass.
- </p>
- <p>
- As Ricardo caught sight of Sarros he instinctively realized that this was
- his mortal enemy; motioning his men to stand back, he approached the
- struggling man on tiptoe and thoughtfully possessed himself of the
- dictator's pistol, which lay in back of him but not out of reach.
- Just as he did so, Sarros, apparently convinced of the futility of his
- efforts to free himself, surrendered to fate and commenced rather
- pitifully to weep with rage and despair.
- </p>
- <p>
- Ricardo watched him for a few seconds, for there was just sufficient of
- the blood of his Castilian ancestors still in his veins to render this
- sorry spectacle rather an enjoyable one to him. Besides, he was 50 per
- cent. Iberian, a race which can hate quite as thoroughly as it can love,
- and for a time Ricardo even nourished the thought of still further
- indulging his thirst for revenge by pretending to aid Sarros in his
- escape! Presently, however, he put the ungenerous thought from him;
- seizing the dead horse by the tail, he dragged the carcass off his enemy's
- leg, and while Sarros sat up, tailor-fashion, and commenced to tub the
- circulation back into the bruised member, Ricardo seated himself on the
- rump of the dead horse and appraised his prisoner critically.
- </p>
- <p>
- Sarros glanced up, remembered his manners and very heartily and gracefully
- thanked his deliverer.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It is not a matter for which thanks are due me, Sarros,”
- Ricardo replied coldly. “I am Ricardo Luiz Ruey, and I have come
- back to Sobrante to pay my father's debt to you. You will remember
- having forced the obligation upon me in the cemetery some fifteen years
- ago.”
- </p>
- <p>
- For perhaps ten horrified seconds Sarros stared at Ricardo; then the dark
- blood in him came to his defense; his tense pose relaxed; the fright and
- despair left his swarthy countenance as if erased with a moist sponge,
- leaving him as calmly stoical and indifferent as a cigarstore Indian. He
- fumbled in his coat pocket for a gold cigarette case, selected a
- cigarette, lighted it and blew smoke at Ricardo. The jig was up; he knew
- it; and with admirable nonchalance he declined to lower his presidential
- dignity by discussing or considering it. He realized it would delight his
- captor to know he dreaded to face the issue, and it was not a Sarros
- practice to give aid and comfort to the enemy.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Spunky devil!” Ricardo reflected, forced to admiration
- despite himself. Aloud he said: “You know the code of our people,
- Sarros. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Sarros bowed. “I am at your service,” he replied carelessly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then at daylight to-morrow morning I shall make settlement.”
- Ricardo beckoned his men to approach. “Take this man and confine him
- under a double guard in the arsenal,” he ordered. “Present my
- compliments to the officer in charge there and tell him it is my wish that
- a priest be provided for the prisoner to-night, and that to-morrow
- morning, at six o'clock, a detail of six men and a sergeant escort
- this man to the cemetery in the rear of the Catedral de la Cruz. I will
- meet the detail there and take command of it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Two of Ricardo's imported fighting men stepped to the prisoner's
- side, seized him, one by each arm, and lifted him to his feet; supported
- between them, he limped away to his doom, while his youthful conqueror
- remained seated on the dead horse, his gaze bent upon the ground, his mind
- dwelling, not upon his triumph over Sarros but upon the prodigious
- proportions of the task before him: the rehabilitation of a nation. After
- a while he rose and strolled over toward the gate, where he paused to note
- the grim evidences of the final stand of Webster and Don Juan Cafetéro
- before passing through the portal. .
- </p>
- <p>
- Ricardo had now, for the first time, an opportunity to look around him; so
- he halted to realize his homecoming, to thrill with this, the first real
- view of the home of his boyhood. The spacious lawn surrounding the palace
- had been plowed and scarred with bursting shrapnel from the field guns
- captured in the arsenal, although the building itself had been little
- damaged, not having sustained a direct hit because of Ricardo's
- stringent orders not to use artillery on the palace unless absolutely
- necessary to smoke Sarros out. Scattered over the grounds Ricardo counted
- some twenty-odd Government soldiers, all wearing that pathetically flat,
- crumpled appearance which seems inseparable from the bodies of men killed
- in action. The first shrapnel had probably commenced to drop in the
- grounds just as a portion of the palace garrison had been marching out to
- join the troops fighting at the cantonment barracks. Evidently the men had
- scattered like quail, only to be killed as they ran.
- </p>
- <p>
- From this grim scene Ricardo raised his eyes to the palace, the
- castellated towers of which, looming through the tufted palms, were
- reflecting the setting sun. Over the balustrade of one of the upper
- balconies the limp body of a Sarros sharpshooter, picked off from the
- street, drooped grotesquely, his arms hanging downward as if in ironical
- welcome to the son of Ruey the Beloved. The sight induced in Ricardo a
- sense of profound sadness; his Irish imagination awoke; to him that mute
- figure seemed to call upon him for pity, for kindness, for forbearance,
- for understanding and sympathy. Those outflung arms of the martyred peon
- symbolized to Ricardo Ruey the spirit of liberty, shackled and helpless,
- calling upon him for deliverance; they brought to his alert mind a clearer
- realization of the duty that was his than he had ever had before. He had a
- great task to perform, a task inaugurated by his father, and which Ricardo
- could not hope to finish in his lifetime. He must solve the agrarian
- problem; he must develop the rich natural resources of his country; he
- must provide free, compulsory education and evolve from the ignorance of
- the peon an intelligence that would built up that which Sobrante, in
- common with her sister republics, so woefully lacked—the great
- middle class that stands always as a buffer between the aggression and
- selfishness of the upper class and the helplessness and childishness of
- the lower.
- </p>
- <p>
- Ricardo bowed his head. “Help me, O Lord,” he prayed. “Thou
- hast give me in Thy wisdom a man's task. Help me that I may not
- prove unworthy.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXVIII
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">M</span>OTHER JENKS, grown
- impatient at the lack of news concerning Webster, left Dolores to her
- grief in the room across the hall and sought the open air, for of late she
- had been experiencing with recurring frequency a slight feeling of
- suffocation. She sat down on the broad granite steps, helped herself to a
- much-needed “bracer” from her brandy flask and was gazing
- pensively at the scene around her when Ricardo came up the stairs.
- </p>
- <p>
- “'Elio!” Mother Jenks saluted him. “W'ere
- 'ave you been, Mr. Bowers?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have just returned from capturing Sarros, Mrs. Jenks. He is on
- his way to the arsenal under guard.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Gor' strike me pink!” the old lady cried. “'Ave
- I lived to see this day!” Her face was wreathed in a happy smile.
- “I wonder 'ow the beggar feels to 'ave the shoe on the
- other foot, eh—the'eartless'ound! I'm 'opin'
- this General Ruey will 'ave the blighter shot.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You need have no worry on that score, Mrs. Jenks. I'm General
- Ruey. Andrew Bowers was just my summer name, as it were.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Angels guard me! Wot the bloomin' 'ell surprise won't
- we 'ave next. Wot branch o' the Ruey tribe do you belong to?
- Are you a nephew o' him that was president before Sarros shot
- 'im? Antonio Ruey, who was 'arf brother to the president,
- 'ad a son 'e called Ricardo. Are you 'im, might I arsk?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I am the son of Ricardo the Beloved,” he answered proudly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not the lad as was away at school when 'is father was
- hexecuted?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I am that same lad, Mrs. Jenks. And who are you? You seem to know a
- deal of my family history.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I,” the old publican replied with equal pride, “am Mrs.
- Colonel 'Enery Jenks, who was your father's chief of
- hartillery an' 'ad the hextreme honour o' dyin' in
- front o' the same wall with 'im. By the w'y, 'ow's
- Mr. Webster?” she added, suddenly remembering the subject closest to
- her heart just then.
- </p>
- <p>
- “His wounds are trifling. He'll live, Mrs. Jenks.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, that's better than gettin' poked in the eye with
- a sharp stick,” the old dame decided philosophically.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Do you remember my little sister, Mrs. Jenks?” Ricardo
- continued. “She was in the palace when Sarros attacked it; she
- perished there.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I believe I 'ave got a slight recollection o' the
- nipper, sir,” Mother Jenks answered cautiously. To herself she said:
- “I s'y, 'Enrietta, 'ere's a pretty go.
- 'E don't know the lamb is livin' an' in the next
- room! My word, wot a riot w'en 'e meets 'er!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I will see you again, Mrs. Jenks. I must have a long talk with you,”
- Ricardo told her, and passed on into the palace; whereupon Mother Jenks
- once more fervently implored the Almighty to strike her pink, and the iron
- restraint of a long, hard, exciting day being relaxed at last, the good
- soul bowed her gray head in her arms and wept, moving her body from side
- to side the while and demanding, of no one in particular, a single
- legitimate reason why she, a blooming old baggage and not fit to live,
- should be the recipient of such manifold blessings as this day had brought
- forth.
- </p>
- <p>
- In the meantime Ricardo, with his hand on the knob of the door leading to
- the room where Webster was having his wounds dressed, paused suddenly, his
- attention caught by the sound of a sob, long-drawn and inexpressibly
- pathetic. He listened and made up his mind that a woman in the room across
- the entrance-hall was bewailing the death of a loved one who answered to
- the name of Caliph and John darling. Further eavesdropping convinced him
- that Caliph, John darling, and Mr. John Stuart Webster were one and the
- same person, and so he tilted his head on one side like a cock-robin and
- considered.
- </p>
- <p>
- “By jingo, that's most interesting,” he decided. “The
- wounded hero has a sweetheart or a wife—and an American, too. She
- must be a recent acquisition, because all the time we were together on the
- steamer coming down here he never spoke of either, despite the fact that
- we got friendly enough for such confidences. Something funny about this. I'd
- better sound the old boy before I start passing out words of comfort to
- that unhappy female.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He passed on into the room. John Stuart Webster had, by this time, been
- washed and bandaged, and one of the Sarros servants (for the ex-dictator's
- retinue still occupied the palace) had, at Doctor Pacheco's command,
- prepared a guest-chamber upstairs and furnished a nightgown of ample
- proportions to cover Mr. Webster's bebandaged but otherwise naked
- person. A stretcher had just arrived, and the wounded man was about to be
- carried upstairs. The late financial backer of the revolution was looking
- very pale and dispirited; for once in his life his whimsical, bantering
- nature was subdued. His eyes were closed, and he did not open them when
- Ricardo entered.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I have Sarros,” the latter declared. Webster paid not
- the slightest attention to this announcement. Ricardo bent over him.
- “Jack, old boy,” he queried, “do you know a person of
- feminine persuasion who calls you Caliph?”
- </p>
- <p>
- John Stuart Webster's eyes and mouth flew wide open. “What the
- devil!” he tried to roar. “You haven't been speaking to
- her, have you? If you have, I'll never forgive you, because you've
- spoiled my little surprise party.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, I haven't been speaking to her, but she's in the
- next room crying fit to break her heart because she thinks you've
- been killed.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You scoundrel! Aren't you human? Go tell her it's only
- a couple of punctures, not a blowout.” He sighed. “Isn't
- it sweet of her to weep over an old hunks like me!” he added softly.
- “Bless her tender heart!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Who is she?” Ricardo was very curious.
- </p>
- <p>
- “That's none of your business. You wait and I'll tell
- you. She's the guest I told you I was going to bring to dinner, and
- that's enough for you to know for the present. <i>Vaya</i>, you
- idiot, and bring her in here, so I can assure her my head is bloody but
- unbowed. Doctor, throw that rug over my shanks and make me look pretty. I'm
- going to receive company.”
- </p>
- <p>
- His glance, bent steadily on the door, had in it some of the alert, bright
- wistfulness frequently to be observed in the eyes of a terrier standing
- expectantly before a rat-hole. The instant the door opened and Dolores's
- tear-stained face appeared, he called to her with the old-time
- camaraderie, for he had erased from his mind, for the nonce, the memory of
- the tragedy of poor Don Juan Cafetéro and was concerned solely with the
- task of banishing the tears from those brown eyes and bringing the joy of
- life back to that sweet face.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hello, Seeress,” he called weakly. “Little Johnny's
- been fighting again, and the bad boys gave him an all-fired walloping.”
- </p>
- <p>
- There was a swift rustle of skirts, and she was bending over him, her hot
- little palms clasping eagerly his pale, rough cheeks. “Oh, my dear,
- my dear!” she whispered, and then her voice choked with the happy
- tears and she was sobbing on his wounded shoulder. Ricardo stooped to draw
- her away, but John Stuart bent upon him a look of such frightfulness that
- he drew back abashed. After all, the past twenty-four hours had been quite
- exciting, and Ricardo reflected that John's inamorata was tired and
- frightened and probably hadn't eaten anything all day long, so there
- was ample excuse for her hysteria.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Come, come, buck up,” Webster soothed her, and helped himself
- to a long whiff of her fragrant hair. “Old man Webster had one leg
- in the grave, but they've pulled it out again.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Still she sobbed.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Now, listen to me, lady,” he commanded with mock severity.
- “You just stop that. You're wasting your sympathy; and while,
- of course, I enjoy your sympathy a heap, just pause to reflect on the
- result if those salt tears should happen to drop into one of my numerous
- wounds.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm so sorry for you, Caliph,” she murmured brokenly.
- “You poor, harmless boy! I don't see how any one could be so
- fiendish as to hurt you when you were so distinctly a non-combatant.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thank you. Let us forget the Hague Conference for the present,
- however. Have you met your brother?” he whispered.
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, Caliph.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ricardo.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, Jack.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Come here. Rick, you scheming, unscrupulous, bloodthirsty
- adventurer, I have a tremendous surprise in store for you. The sweetest
- girl in the world—and she's right here——”
- </p>
- <p>
- Ricardo laughingly held up his hand. “Jack, my friend,” he
- interrupted, “you're too weak to make a speech. Don't do
- it. Besides, you do not have to.” He turned and bowed gracefully to
- Dolores. “I can see for myself she's the sweetest girl in the
- world, and that she's right here.” He held out his hand to
- her. “Jack thinks he's going to spring a surprise,” he
- continued maliciously, “quite forgetting that a good soldier never
- permits himself to be taken by surprise. I know all about his little
- secret, because I heard you mourning for him when you thought he was dead.”
- Ricardo favoured her with a knowing wink. “I am delighted to meet
- the future Mrs. Webster. I quite understand why you fell in love with him,
- because, you see, I love him myself and do does everybody else.”
- </p>
- <p>
- With typical Castilian courtliness he took her hand, bowed low over it,
- and kissed it. “I am Ricardo Luiz Ruey,” he said, anxious to
- spare his friend the task of further exhausting conversation. “And
- you are——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You're a consummate jackass!” groaned Webster. “I'm
- only a dear old family friend, and Dolores is going to marry Billy Geary.
- You impetuous idiot! She's your own sister Dolores Ruey. She, Mark
- Twain, and I have ample cause for common complaint against the world
- because the reports of our death have been grossly exaggerated. She didn't
- perish when your father's administration crumbled. Miss Ruey, this
- is your brother Ricardo. Kiss her you damn' fool—forgive me,
- Miss Ruey—oh, Lord, nothing matters any more. He's gummed
- everything up and ruined my party. I wish I were dead.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Ricardo stared from the outraged Webster to his sister and back again.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Jack Webster,” he declared, “you aren't crazy,
- are you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Of course he is—the old dear,” Dolores cried happily,
- “but I'm not.” She stepped up to her brother, and her
- arms went around his neck. “Oh, Rick,” she cried, “I'm
- your sister. Truly, I am.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Dolores. My little lost sister Dolores? Why, I can't believe
- it!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, you'd better believe it,” John Stuart Webster
- growled feebly. “Of course, you can doubt my word and get away with
- it, now that I'm flat on my back, but if you dare cast aspersions on
- that girl's veracity, I'll murder you a month from now.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He closed his eyes, feeling instinctively that he ought not spy on such a
- sacred family scene. When, however, the affecting meeting was over and
- Dolores was ruffling the Websterian foretop while her brother pressed the
- Websterian hand and tried to say all the things he felt but couldn't
- express, John Stuart Webster brought them both back to a realization of
- present conditions.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Don't thank me, sir,” he piped in pathetic imitation of
- the small boy of melodrama. “I have only done me duty, and for that
- I cannot accept this purse of gold, even though my father and mother are
- starving.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, Caliph, do be serious,” Dolores pleaded.
- </p>
- <p>
- He looked up at her fondly. “Take your brother out to Mother Jenks
- and prove your case, Miss Ruey,” he advised her. “And while
- you're at it, I certainly hope somebody will remember I'm not
- accustomed to reposing on a centre table. Rick, if you can persuade some
- citizen of this conquered commonwealth to put me to bed, I'd be
- obliged. I'm dead tired, old horse. I'm—ah—sleepy——”
- </p>
- <p>
- His head rolled weakly to one side, for he had been playing a part and had
- nerved himself to finish it gracefully, even in his weakened condition. He
- sighed, moaned slightly, and slipped into unconsciousness.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXIX
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HROUGHOUT the
- night there was sporadic firing here and there in the city, as the Ruey
- followers relentlessly hunted down the isolated detachment of Government
- troops which had escaped annihilation and capture in the final rout and
- fallen back on the city, where, concealing themselves according to their
- nature and inclination, they indulged in more or less sniping from windows
- and the roofs of buildings. The practice of taking no prisoners was an old
- one in Sobrante, and few presidents had done more than Sarros to keep that
- custom alive; ergo, firm in the conviction that to surrender was
- tantamount to facing a firing squad at daylight, the majority of these
- stragglers, with consummate courage, fought to the death.
- </p>
- <p>
- The capture of Buenaventura was alone sufficient to insure a brief
- revolution, but the capture of Sarros was ample guarantee that the
- resistance to the new order of things was already at an end. However,
- Ricardo Ruey felt that the prompt execution of Sarros would be an added
- guarantee of peace by effectually discouraging any opposition to the rebel
- cause in the outlying districts, where a few isolated garrisons still
- remained in ignorance of the momentous events being enacted in the
- capital. For the time being, Ricardo was master of life and death in
- Sobrante, and all of his advisers and supporters agreed with him that a
- so-called trial of the ex-dictator would be a rather useless affair. His
- life was forfeit a hundred times for murder and treason, and to be
- ponderous over his elimination would savour of mockery. Accordingly, at
- midnight, a priest entered the room in the arsenal where Sarros was
- confined, and shrived him. Throughout the night the priest remained with
- him, and when that early morning march to the cemetery commenced, he
- walked beside Sarros, repeating the prayers for the dying.
- </p>
- <p>
- Upon reaching the cemetery there was a slight wait until a carriage drove
- up and discharged Ricardo Ruey and Mother Jenks. The sergeant in command
- of the squad saluted and was briefly ordered to proceed with the matter in
- hand; whereupon he turned to Sarros, who with the customary <i>sang froid</i>
- of his kind upon such occasions was calmly smoking, and bowed
- deprecatingly. Sarros actually smiled upon him. “<i>Adios, amigos</i>”
- he murmured. Then, as an afterthought and probably because he was
- sufficient of an egoist to desire to appear a martyr, he added heroically:
- “I die for my country. May God have mercy on my enemies.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “If you'd cared to play a gentleman's game, you
- blighter, you might 'ave lived for your bally country,” Mother
- Jenks reminded him in English. “Wonder if the beggar 'll wilt
- or will 'e go through smilin' like my sainted 'Enery on
- the syme spot.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She need not have worried. It requires a strong man to be dictator of a
- Roman-candle republic for fifteen years, and whatever his sins of omission
- or commission, Sarros did not lack animal courage. Alone and unattended he
- limped away among the graves to the wall on the other side of the cemetery
- and placed his back against it, negligently in the attitude of a
- devil-may-care fellow without a worry in life. The sergeant waited
- respectfully until Sarros had finished his cigarette; when he tossed it
- away and straightened to attention, the sergeant knew he was ready to die.
- At his command there was a sudden rattle of bolts as the cartridges slid
- from the magazines into the breeches; there followed a momentary halt,
- another command; the squad was aiming when Ricardo Ruey called sharply:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sergeant, do not give the order to fire.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The rifles were lowered and the men gazed wonderingly at Ricardo. “He's
- too brave,” Ricardo complained. “Damn him, I can't kill
- him as I would a mad-dog. I've got to give him a chance.” The
- sergeant raised his brows expressively. Ah, the <i>ley fuga</i>, that
- popular form of execution where the prisoner is given a running chance,
- and the firing-squad practises wing shooting If the prisoner manages,
- miraculously, to escape, he is not pursued!
- </p>
- <p>
- A doubt, however, crossed the sergeant's mind. “But, my
- general,” he expostulated, “Senor Sarros cannot accept the <i>ley
- fuga</i>. He is very lame. That is not giving him the chance your
- Excellency desires he should have.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I wasn't thinking of that,” Ricardo replied. “I
- was thinking I'm killing him without a fair trial for the reason
- that he's so infernally ripe for the gallows that a trial would have
- been a joke. Nevertheless, I am really killing him because he killed my
- father—and that is scarcely fair. My father was a gentleman.
- Sergeant, is your pistol loaded?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, General.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Give it to Senor Sarros.”
- </p>
- <p>
- As the sergeant started forward to comply Ricardo drew his own service
- revolver and then motioned Mother Jenks and the firing-squad to stand
- aside while he crossed to the centre of the cemetery. “Sarros,”
- he called, “I am going to let God decide which one of us shall live.
- When the sergeant gives the command to fire, I shall open fire on you, and
- you are free to do the same to me. Sergeant, if he kills me and escapes
- unhurt, my orders are to escort him to the bay in my carriage and put him
- safely aboard the steamer.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mother Jenks sat down on a tombstone. “Gord's truth!”
- she gasped, “but there's a rare plucked 'un.”
- Aloud she croaked: “Don't be a bally ass, sir.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Silence!” he commanded.
- </p>
- <p>
- The sergeant handed Sarros the revolver. “You heard what I said?”
- Ricardo called.
- </p>
- <p>
- Sarros bowed gravely.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You understand your orders, Sergeant?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, General.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Very well. Proceed. If this prisoner fires before you give the
- word, have your squad riddle him.” The sergeant backed away and
- gazed owlishly from the prisoner to his captor. “Ready!” he
- called. Both revolvers came up. “Fire!” he shouted, and the
- two shots were discharged simultaneously. Ricardo's cap flew off his
- head, but he remained standing, while Sarros staggered back against the
- wall and there recovering himself gamely, fired again. He scored a clean
- miss, and Ricardo's gun barked three times; Sarros sprawled on his
- face, rose to his knees, raised his pistol halfway, fired into the sky and
- slid forward on his face. Ricardo stood beside the body until the sergeant
- approached and stood to attention, his attitude saying:
- </p>
- <p>
- “It is over. What next, General?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Take the squad back to the arsenal, Sergeant,” Ricardo
- ordered him coolly, and walked back to recover his uniform cap. He was
- smiling as he ran his finger through a gaping hole in the upper half of
- the crown.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, Mrs. Jenks,” he announced when he rejoined the old
- lady, “that was better than executing him with a firing-squad. I
- gave him a square deal. Now his friends can never say that I murdered him.”
- He extended his hand to help Mother Jenks to her feet. She stood erect and
- felt again that queer swelling of the heart, the old feeling of
- suffocation.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Steady, lass!” she mumbled. “'Old on to me, sir.
- It's my bally haneurism. Gor'—I'm—chokin'——”
- </p>
- <p>
- He caught her in his arms as she lurched toward him. Her face was purple,
- and in her eyes there was a queer fierce light that went out suddenly,
- leaving them dull and glazed. When she commenced to sag in his arms, he
- eased her gently to the ground and laid her on her back in the grass.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The nipper's safe, 'Enery,” he heard her murmur.
- “I've raised 'er a lydy, s'elp me—she's
- back where—you found 'er— 'Enery——”
- </p>
- <p>
- She quivered, and the light came creeping back into her eyes before it
- faded forever. “Comin', 'Enery—darlin',”
- she whispered; and then the soul of Mother Jenks, who had a code and lived
- up to it (which is more than the majority of us do), had departed upon the
- ultimate journey. Ricardo gazed down on the hard old mouth, softened now
- by a little half-smile of mingled yearning and gladness: “What a
- wonderful soul you had,” he murmured, and kissed her.
- </p>
- <p>
- In the end she slept in the niche in the wall of the Catedral de la Vera
- Cruz, beside her sainted 'Enery.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXX
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HREE days passed.
- Don Juan Cafetéro had been buried with all the pomp and circumstance of a
- national hero; Mother Jenks, too, had gone to her appointed resting-place,
- and El Buen Amigo had been closed forever. Ricardo had issued a
- proclamation announcing himself provisional president of Sobrante; a
- convention of revolutionary leaders had been held, and a provisional
- cabinet selected. A day for the national elections had been named; the
- wreckage of the brief revolution had been cleared away, and the wheels of
- government were once more revolving freely and noiselessly. And while all
- of this had been going on, John Stuart Webster had lain on his back,
- staring at the palace ceiling and absolutely forbidden to receive
- visitors. He was still engaged in this mild form of gymnastics on the
- third day when the door of his room opened and Dolores looked in on him.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good evening, Caliph,” she called. “Aren't you
- dead yet?”
- </p>
- <p>
- It was exactly the tone she should have adopted to get the best results,
- for Webster had been mentally and physically ill since she had seen him
- last, and needed some such pleasantry as this to lift him out of his
- gloomy mood. He grinned at her boyishly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, I'm not dead. On the contrary, I'm feeling real
- chirpy. Won't you come in and visit for a while, Miss Ruey?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, since you've invited me, I shall accept.”
- Entering, she stood beside his bed and took the hand he extended toward
- Her. “This is the first opportunity I've had, Miss Ruey,”
- he began, “to apologize for the shock I gave you the other day. I
- should have come back to you as I promised, instead of getting into a
- fight and scaring you half to death. I hope you'll forgive me,
- because I'm paying for my fun now—with interest.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Very well, Caliph. I'll forgive you—on one condition.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Who am I to resist having a condition imposed upon me? Name your
- terms. I shall obey.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm weary of being called Miss Ruey. I want to be Dolores—to
- you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “By the toenails of Moses,” he reflected, “there is no
- escape. She's determined to rock the boat.” Aloud he said:
- “All right, Dolores. I suppose I may as well take the license of the
- old family friend. I guess Bill won't mind.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Billy hasn't a word to say about it,” she retorted,
- regarding him with that calm, impersonal, yet vitally interested look that
- always drove him frantic with the desire for her.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, of course, I understand that,” he countered. “Naturally,
- since Bill is only a man, you'll have to manage him and he'll
- have to take orders.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Caliph, you're a singularly persistent man, once you get an
- idea into your head. Please understand me, once for all: Billy Geary is a
- dear, and it's a mystery to me why every girl in the world isn't
- perfectly crazy about him, but every rule has its exceptions—and
- Billy and I are just good friends. I'd like to know where you got
- the idea we're engaged to be married.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why—why—well, aren't you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Certainly not.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, you—er—you ought to be. I expected—that is,
- I planned—I mean Bill told me and—and—and—er—it
- never occurred to me you could possibly have the—er—crust—to
- refuse him. Of course you're going to marry him when he asks you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Of course I am not.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ah-h-h-h!” John Stuart Webster gazed at her in frank
- amazement. “Not going to marry Bill Geary!” he cried, highly
- scandalized.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I know you think I ought to, and I suppose it will appear quite
- incomprehensible to you when I do not——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, Dolores, my dear girl! This is most amazing. Didn't Bill
- ask you to marry him before he left?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, he did me that honour, and I declined him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You <i>what!</i>”
- </p>
- <p>
- She smiled at him so maternally that his hand itched to drag her down to
- him and kiss her curving lips.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Do you mind telling me just why you took this extraordinary
- attitude?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You have no right to ask, but I'll tell you. I refused Billy
- because I didn't love him enough—that way. What's more,
- I never could.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He rolled his head to one side and softly, very softly, whistled two bars
- of “The Spanish Cavalier” through his teeth He was properly
- thunder-struck—so much so, in fact, that for a moment he actually
- forgot her presence the while he pondered this most incredible state of
- affairs.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I see it all now. It's as clear as mud,” he announced
- finally. “You refused poor old Bill and broke his heart, and so he
- went away and hasn't had the courage to write me since. I'm
- afraid Bill and I both regarded this fight as practically won—all
- over but the wedding-march, as one might put it. I might as well confess I
- hustled the boy down from the mine just so you two could get married and
- light out on your honeymoon I figured Bill could kill two birds with one
- stone—have his honeymoon and get rid of his malaria, and return here
- in three or four months to relieve me, after I had the mine in operation.
- Poor boy. That was a frightful song-and-dance you gave him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I suspected you were the matchmaker in this case. I must say I
- think you're old enough to know better, Caliph John.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You did, eh? Well, what made you think so?”
- </p>
- <p>
- She chuckled. “Oh, you're very obvious—to a woman.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I forgot that you reveal the past and foretell the future.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You are really very clumsy, Caliph. You should never try to direct
- the destiny of any woman.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm on the sick list,” he pleaded, “and it isn't
- sporting of you to discuss me. You're healthy—so let us
- discuss you. Dolores, do you figure Bill's case to be absolutely
- hopeless?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Absolutely, Caliph.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hum-m-m!”
- </p>
- <p>
- Again Webster had recourse to meditation, seeing which, Dolores walked to
- the pier-glass in the corner, satisfied herself that her coiffure was just
- so and returned to his side, singing softly a little song that had floated
- out over the transom of Webster's room door into the hall one night:
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- A Spanish cavalier,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Went out to rope a steer,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Along with his paper <i>cigar-r-ro!</i>
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- “<i>Caramba!</i>” said he.
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- “<i>Manana</i> you will be
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- <i>Muchù bueno carne por mio</i>”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- He turned his head and looked up at her suddenly, searchingly. “Is
- there anybody else in Bill's way?” he demanded. “I admit
- it's none of my business, but———-”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, Caliph, there is some one else.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I thought so.” This rather viciously. “I'm
- willing to gamble a hundred to one, sight unseen, that whoever he is, he
- isn't half the man Bill is.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That,” she replied coldly, “is a matter of personal
- opinion.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And Bill's clock is fixed for keeps?'
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, Caliph. And he never had a chance from the start.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why not?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I met the other man first, Caliph.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh! Do you mind telling me what this other man does for a living?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He's a mining man, like Billy.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right! Has the son of a horsethief got a mine like Bill's?
- That's something to consider, Dolores.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He has a mine fully as good as Billy's. Like Billy, he owns a
- half interest in it, too.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hum-m-m! How long have you known him?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not very long.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Be sure you're right—then go ahead,” John Stuart
- Webster warned her. “Don't marry in haste and repent at
- leisure, Dolores. Know your man before you let him buy the wedding ring.
- There's a heap of difference, my dear, between sentiment and
- sentimentality.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm sure of my man, Caliph.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He was silent again, thinking rapidly. “Well, of course,” he
- began again presently, “while there was the slightest possibility of
- Bill winning you, I would have died before saying that which I am about to
- say to you now, Dolores, because Bill is my friend, and I'd never
- double-cross him. With reference to this other man, however, I have no
- such code to consider. I'm pretty well convinced I'm out of
- the running, but I'll give that lad a race if it's the last
- act of my life. He's a stranger to me, and he isn't on the job
- to protect his claim, so why shouldn't I stake it if I can? But are
- you quite certain you aren't making a grave mistake in refusing
- Billy? He's quite a boy, my dear. I know him from soul to
- suspenders, and he'd be awfully good to you. He's kind and
- gentle and considerate, and he's not a mollycoddle, either.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I can't help it, Caliph. Please don't talk about him
- any more. I know somebody who is kinder and nobler and gentler.” She
- ceased abruptly, fearful of breaking down her reserve and saying too much.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, if Bill's case is hopeless”—his hand came
- groping for hers, while he held her with his searching, wistful glance—“I
- wonder what mine looks like. That is, Dolores, I—I——'
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, John?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I've played fair with my friend,” he whispered eagerly.
- “I'm not going to ask you to marry me, but I want to tell you
- that to me you're such a very wonderful woman I can't help
- loving you with my whole heart and soul.'
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have suspected this, John,” she replied gravely.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I suppose so. I'm such an obvious old fool. I've had my
- dream, and I've put it behind me, but I—I just want you to
- know I love you; so long as I live, I shall want to serve you when you're
- married to this other man, and things do not break just right for you both—if
- I have something he wants, in order to make you happy, I want you to know
- it's yours to give to him. I—I—I guess that's all,
- Dolores.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thank you, John. Would you like to know this man I'm going to
- marry?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, I think I'd like to congratulate the scoundrel.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then I'll introduce you to him, John. I first met him on a
- train in Death Valley, California. He was a shaggy old dear, all whiskers
- and rags, but his whiskers couldn't hide his smile, and his rags
- couldn't hide his manhood, and when he thrashed a drummer because
- the man annoyed me, I just couldn't help falling in love with him.
- Even when he fibbed to me and disputed my assertion that we had met before——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good land of love—and the calves got loose!” he almost
- shouted as he held up his one sound arm to her. “My dear, my dear——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, sweetheart,” she whispered laying her hot cheek against
- his, “it's taken you so long to say it, but I love you all the
- more for the dear thoughts that made you hesitate.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He was silent a few moments, digesting his amazement, speechless with the
- great happiness that was his—and then Dolores was kissing the back
- of the hand of that helpless, bandaged arm lying across his breast. He had
- a tightening in his throat, for he had not expected love; and that sweet,
- benignant, humble little kiss spelled adoration and eternal surrender;
- when she looked at him again the mists of joy were in his eyes.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Dear old Caliph John!” she crooned. “He's never
- had a woman to understand his funny ways and appreciate them and take care
- of him, has he?” She patted his cheek. “And bless his simple
- old heart, he would rather give up his love than be false to his friend.
- Yes, indeed. Johnny Webster respects 'No Shooting' signs when
- he sees them, but he tells fibs and pretends to be very stupid when he
- really isn't. So you wouldn't be false to Billy—eh,
- dear? I'm glad to know that, because the man who cannot be false to
- his friend can never be false to his wife.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He crushed her down to him and held her there for a long time. “My
- dear,” he said presently, “isn't there something you
- have to say to me?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I love you, John,” she whispered, and sealed the sweet
- confession with a true lover's kiss.
- </p>
- <p>
- “All's well with the world,” John Stuart Webster
- announced when he could use his lips once more for conversation. “And,”
- he added, “owing to the fact that I started a trifle late in life, I
- believe I could stand a little more of the same.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The door opened and Ricardo looked in on them. “Killjoy!”
- Webster growled. “Old Killjoy the Thirteenth, King of Sobrante. Is
- this a surprise to you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not a bit of it, Jack. I knew it was due.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Am I welcome in the Ruey family?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Ricardo came over and kissed his sister. “Don't be a lobster,
- Jack,” he protested. “I dislike foolish questions.” And
- he pressed his friend's hand with a fervour that testified to his
- pleasure.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm sorry to crowd in at a time like this, Jack,” he
- continued, with a hug for Dolores, “but Mr. What-you-may-call-him,
- the American consul, has called to pay his respects. As a fellow-citizen
- of yours, he is vitally interested in your welfare. Would you care to
- receive him for a few minutes?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “One minute will do,” Webster declared with emphasis. “Show
- the human slug up, Rick.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Lemuel Tolliver tripped breezily in with outstretched hand. “My
- dear Mr. Webster,” he began, but Webster cut him short with a
- peremptory gesture.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Listen, friend Tolliver,” he said. “The only reason I
- received you was to tell you I'm going to remain in this country
- awhile and help develop it. I may even conclude to grow up with it. I
- shall not, of course, renounce my American citizenship; and of course, as
- an American citizen, I am naturally interested in the man my country sends
- to Sobrante to represent it. I might as well be frank and tell you that
- you won't do. I called on you once to do your duty, and you weren't
- there; I told you then I might have something to say about your job later
- on, and now I'm due to say it. Mr. Tolliver, I'm the power
- behind the throne in this little Jim-crow country, and to quote your own
- elegant phraseology, you, as American consul, are <i>nux vomica</i> to the
- Sobrantean government. Moreover, as soon as the Sobrantean ambassador
- reaches Washington, he's going to tell the President that you are,
- and then the President will be courteous enough to remove you. In the
- meantime, fare thee well, Mr. Consul.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But, Mr. Webster——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “<i>Vaya!</i>”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Tolliver, appreciating the utter futility of argument, bowed and
- departed.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Verily, life grows sweeter with each passing day,” Webster
- murmured whimsically. “Rick, old man, I think you had better escort
- the Consul to the front door. Your presence is <i>nux vomica</i> to me
- also. See that you back me up and dispose of that fellow Tolliver, or you
- can't come to our wedding—can he, sweetheart?”
- </p>
- <p>
- When Ricardo had taken his departure, laughing, John Stuart Webster looked
- up quite seriously at his wife-to-be. “Can you explain to me,
- Dolores,” he asked, “how it happened that your relatives and
- your father's old friends here in Sobrante, whom you met shortly
- after your arrival, never informed you that Ricardo was living?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “They didn't know any more about him than I did, and he left
- here as a mere boy. He was scarcely acquainted with his relatives, all of
- whom bowed quite submissively to the Sarros yoke. Indeed, my father's
- half-brother, Antonio Ruey, actually accepted a portfolio under the Sarros
- régime and held it up to his death. Ricardo has a wholesome contempt for
- his relatives, and as for his father's old friends, none of them
- knew anything about his plans. Apparently his identity was known only to
- the Sarros intelligence bureau, and it did not permit the information to
- leak out.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Funny mix-up,” he commented. “And by the way, where did
- you get all the inside dope about Neddy Jerome?”
- </p>
- <p>
- She laughed and related to him the details of Neddy's perfidy.
- </p>
- <p>
- “And you actually agreed to deliver me, hog-tied and helpless to
- that old schemer, Dolores?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why not, dear. I loved you; I always meant to marry you, if you'd
- let me; and ten thousand dollars would have lasted me for pin money a long
- time.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, you and Neddy have both lost out. Better send the old pelican
- a cable and wake him out of his day-dream.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I sent the cable yesterday, John dear.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Extraordinary woman!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I've just received an answer. Neddy has spent nearly fifty
- dollars telling me by cable what a fine man you are and how thankful I
- ought to be to the good Lord for permitting you to marry me.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Dolores, you are perfectly amazing. I only proposed to you a minute
- ago.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I know you did, slow-poke, but that is not your fault. You would
- have proposed to me yesterday, only I thought best not to disturb you
- until you were a little stronger. This evening, however, I made up my mind
- to settle the matter, and so I——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But suppose I hadn't proposed to you, after all?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then, John, I should have proposed to you, I fear.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But you were running an awful risk, sending that telegram to Neddy
- Jerome.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She took one large red ear in each little hand and shook his head
- lovingly. “Silly,” she whispered, “don't be a
- goose. I knew you loved me; I would have known it, even if Neddy Jerome
- hadn't told me so. So I played a safe game all the way through, and
- oh, dear Caliph John, I'm so happy I could cry.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “God bless my mildewed soul,” John Stuart Webster murmured
- helplessly. The entire matter was quite beyond his comprehension!
- </p>
- <h3>
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