"Don't pay any attention to what they are saying," Emma said dryly. "They are all liars."
Señora Castillo's face was somber and she became withdrawn. She asked for her shawl and Catalina's wrap-around mantilla. "We must leave. It's getting late and it's a long drive back to McAllen," she said, very quietly and gracefully. Catalina's face reflected the distressing feeling that this whole dream of marriage to Fred Juelson had been too good to be true. The two women left and did not say when they would return. The rest stood around breathing hard and thinking that a horrendous scandal was about to erupt.
Emma found a chair in the living room and began complaining, predicting what could happen. "Those malditos Rinches, if they catch Fred, they will kill him on the spot! I can't believe that those idiots think Fred would kill somebody just because they found his stolen gun. They are blaming him for the murder of a no-good trashy woman. Los Rinches will find any excuse to accuse Fred because of who he is." Her voice echoed the anger throughout the mansion.
As the atmosphere in the house descended into melancholy, Señora Del Calderóne grabbed her shawl and decided to leave before it got too dark. Don Federico apologized to her and thanked her for helping with the invitations, then joined the other ladies in the living room. The disturbing events of the evening were etched on his face. Grandmother Gloria looked grim and sat quietly on a sofa viewing the palms park from the window. The wonderful prospect of a happy marriage was turning into a horribly troubling calamity instead.
Felicia whispered to Victoria. "I'll go get Dan to drive over to the Ranchito where Fred is and tell him what's happening. The Rangers are sitting, with their windshield wipers on, watching and waiting on the opposite side of the road. It's the only road coming from Weslaco."
"Wait a minute!" Victoria answered. Her head was spinning, and her brain was in a fog, but she was trying to think how to best help and warn her brother. The Rangers were definitely watching the house for any activity. "I'll go over to your house and get Dan. We'll drive south on the Old Military Road and take the long way around, without Los Rinches seeing us." She spoke with panicked urgency.
Don Federico spoke up: "Victoria, take the money bag from my desk and give it to Fred—Lord knows, he's going to need it! There must be a thousand dollars in there that he'll need to get away from here and stay away for a while. Just Los Rinches don't get their hands on him."
"Father, where?" Victoria's eyes widened with alarm. "Where will he go? Where can he find shelter in the middle of the night?"
"Across the border into Mexico," answered the Don, wheezing and gasping for breath. "There he'll be safe until we can clear this matter up. Emma is right—if Los Rinches arrest Fred, he won't have a chance to clear his name. I don't want my son to die at their hands, like so many others, without any explanation. I can tell you right now that this is Hanson's revenge. He planned it that way, by having someone steal Fred's gun, and frame him for murder. These allegations are going to be hard to disprove."
Don Federico sat down in the nearest chair, holding his chest. "This is the way he used to operate in the old days—it was one of his favorite tricks. He would accuse some poor Mexican of any wrongdoing, and then scare him to death with vile threats, and the Mexican would give him anything he asked for, even his land. Fred is going to get away into Mexico, and we are going to clear his name, even if I have to travel to the state capital building in Austin to do so."
"Papá, Fred is going to lose everything—the profession he wanted all of his life, his good name, his prestige, and honor," cried, Victoria. "What about his marriage?" She stood and gulped for air, not believing the nightmare that was sprouting.
"It's better to lose material things than your life," said the Don. "For the moment, I have to do what is best for Fred, without getting him killed by the Goddamn Rangers. Give Fred the money, Victoria, and get rid of his car once he reaches the border. Tell Fred to find shelter with the Solis family in Reynosa. They are your cousins from your mother's side of the family and will see that he is taken care of. I will repay them as soon as I can. Tell Fred that I will try to get in touch with him later. Meanwhile, I'll call Canalo in Brownsville and get his advice."
The next day, Canalo replied in a telegram addressed to the Dan Land home as a precaution. His advice was for Fred to stay put in Reynosa, or maybe Matamoros, a bigger city, with less danger of being recognized. Mexico would be a safe refuge for him until the investigation cleared him of any wrongdoing.
CHAPTER 37
It must have been past midnight, in a soggy steady downpour. The disguise that Victoria and Dan had brought Fred had worked; camouflaged in a worn-out coat and a cap, he crossed the newly built wooden bridge into Reynosa, Mexico. They had found him as he was heading down the muddy road coming from the Ranchito, where they informed him of the murderous tale told by the Rangers. The two cars followed one another through the damp wet night to the bridge crossing into Reynosa. Handing Fred the moneybag, Victoria informed him that Don Federico wanted him to stay with the Solis's until he was given later instructions. The Don would get in touch with the Solis cousins later. It was the same hacienda where Victoria and Ricardo had their wedding reception several years ago. Fred, still in shock, kept saying he was innocent. And what about Catalina? What would she say? Victoria told him that it was for his own good to go into hiding. Their father's orders were he must escape and save himself. As for Catalina, she now knew everything! Their marriage would have to wait.
Victoria drove Fred's car and dumped it into the deepest part of the Rio Grande River several miles southeast on the Military Road, where the Rio Grande River separated, forming an island like a crooked stick called El Horcón. She stood in the drizzling rain and watched as the car slowly spun in a whirlpool and finally sank. From there, Dan drove her back over rural roads to Mercedes. It was now around three-thirty in the morning, and the tension in the household was at its highest peak. Don Federico was suffering from chest pains and had not slept that night.
The next morning, local newspaper people were knocking on the door of the Juelson mansion and asking questions. While the two doctors, Hedrick and Burr, were leaving the premises, all the reporters were asking if Fred had returned, and others were querying and concerned about Don Federico's illness. Little was said, only that Fred had not returned and the household was worried. Don Federico had been sedated and was now resting comfortably. Dr. Burr replaced Fred temporarily while messages were being sent to the Indian doctor, White Eagle, in Oklahoma, asking him if he wanted to attend and help the doctor in the Valley until another doctor could be found for the booming business. At the clinic, people needing medical attention were already in line inquiring as to the whereabouts of El Doctor Fred.
The headline story on the front page was full of accusations that Dr. Fred Juelson was the suspect in the killing of a white woman, as his gun inscribed with his name was found near her body, and of course his disappearance was highly suspicious. Later, a hefty reward was offered for information on the whereabouts of Dr. Juelson. The Texas Rangers and the sheriff were all busy getting information and leaving posters trying to locate Fred. The car had not been found. Occasionally, one of the Ranger cars could be viewed some distance from the Juelson mansion. They sat for days, two at a time, on the road coming from Weslaco, waiting to see if they caught any glimpse of Fred.
Meanwhile in Reynosa, Fred, now a fugitive, found shelter with the gracious Solis family, who were more than honored to have him as their guest on their two hundred-acre ranch south of Reynosa. Fred was quickly back in business, as there was always a line of people, including the members of the Solis family, their vaqueros, and their families, malnourished, ailing children, and women who had been abused and beaten—all wanting medical help and advice. And as always, Fred, ever good-hearted and grateful for having a place to stay, went right to work and tried not to worry about the complications that were taking place across the river in Mercedes.
Out in the patio in the evenings,
and in the lonely hours of the night, he would listen to the beautiful Mexican love songs sung by the resident vaqueros sitting around campfires on the grounds. But as the days progressed, he started to feel melancholy and guilty, thinking of his clientele across the border, his family, his courtship to Catalina, and his future marriage. Sweet memories began crowding in on him. He wondered about his father and all of the sacrifice made for him to become successful, and now his life had become a total failure. Occasionally, Señor Solis would bring newspapers from across the river full of articles insinuating that Fred was the killer. All were asking, where is the mysterious car? And where is he hiding?
Up to this time, Fred was so involved in his medical activities; he was totally unaware of the turmoil of the restless Mexican citizens' Cristero Rebellion movement that was happening in Mexico. During the year of 1928, Alvaro Obregón, newly elected president of Mexico, had been assassinated because of his hatred of the Catholic Church, since all convents and Catholic schools had been closed and church properties had been confiscated. Many of the illiterate Mexican citizens were convinced that Obregón was the antichrist, and a Catholic zealot determined to kill Obregón was successful. Riots were taking place in many cities of Mexico, including Reynosa, demanding justice for the Catholic Church. Pascual Ortiz Rubio was elected to complete Obregon's term. During that same year, Republican Herbert Hoover was elected the thirty-first President of the United States.
Carlos had returned to Spanish Acres from San Antonio, with a good sale on the cattle and got word from Victoria to come home to Mercedes to be with his father who was ill. Not only did Carlos join his father, who was glad that the sale of the cattle had gone well, but the unpopular Mrs. McCray was also at Don Federico's bedside, tending to his every whim, something that enraged Victoria.
Within two weeks, White Eagle arrived by train in Mercedes with his medical bag and baggage and his bow and arrow, which he used for hunting and entertainment when he was not otherwise occupied. He was given permission to hunt on the land at Spanish Acres when the occasion was at hand. He was received by the working members of the Juelson household, who drove him to the mansion, where he was welcomed in a gracious manner by Victoria and Don Federico, who had his room ready.
Replacing Fred in his own medical business office, White Eagle went right to work and spent long hours with the Mexican clientele, and many times did not finish doctoring until the middle of the night. The Indian doctor helped Dr. Burr and Dr. Hedrick from time to time and introduced several new methods of healing. He also showed them the newest drugs that had been introduced since Dr. Burr had left the Houston area.
The coming of an Indian doctor to Mercedes did not sit well with the white community, especially secret members of the KKK, who were already stealthily busy making plans, with the ex-Ranger Hanson egging the group on. While the rest of the Klan heard and read about the mystery of the dead girl, Hanson was glad that there was no Mexican doctor around. They had tolerated Fred, a Mexican doctor, far too long, because of his father's influence and money, but an Indian doctor? That was outrageous and something had to be done.
Early in the spring of 1929, on a cloudless night with a shining full moon, White Eagle was working late in the lab when he saw several shadowy figures outside the clinic with lit torches. He grabbed his bow and arrow and exited out the back of the building.
The torches outside in the yard caught Victoria's eye, too. Already the victim of jumpy nerves, she called it to Carlos's attention. He viewed the activity from their dining room window and shouted for his father to come. After viewing the scene, Don Federico immediately ordered Chico and his work crew to get their guns and rifles.
Don Federico, Carlos, Victoria, and the rest of the crew sneaked from the back of the mansion, outside among the shrubs and palms trees, while two Texas Rangers arrived on the scene, one with a gun, the other with a double-barreled shotgun, both waiting to see what was going to develop.
From behind the group of seven white-hooded men, who were carrying torches and ropes, came the voice of the young, cocky Ranger, "What’s going on here? You forgetting this is Texas, not Mississippi, and that you're stepping on private property?"
"What is it to you? Whose side are you on?" replied one of the masked men. "There's an Indian in there that needs killin'. And in this state, you can get away with almost anything."
"Stop, and no, you cannot," stated the other Ranger. "What the hell has the Indian done to you, anyway?" he asked, pointing his gun towards the vigilante group that was trying to scatter around the buildings with their torches. "Get over here!" he bellowed to them, "or I'll shoot! I'll shoot to kill!" he shouted, but two managed to disappear to the back of the clinic, among the bushes and palms.
"What are you, a Mexican and Indian lover? They need to be done away with! What the hell are we paying you bastards for anyway?" replied one of the gutsy hooded men holding a rope. He started to advance, but changed his mind and stayed put. The double-barreled shotgun was aiming at him.
"Enough of that," said the other plucky Ranger, waving his gun. "You men need to git the hell off this land and go. There's been enough killin' already, and we are here to uphold the law!" He turned around suddenly surprise, for behind him he heard the clicking of rifles.
In the brightness of the moonlight, Don Federico and the rest of the crew stood and pointed their weapons at the masked men. "Is that you, Milton?" the Don asked, angling his rifle toward the belligerent hooded figure. "I thought your voice sounded familiar."
"Yeah, well what of it?" Milton answered. "And what do you plan to do about it? Did you pay these bastard Rangers to protect your land?"
"Damn cowards!" shouted Carlos. "All of you hiding in those ridiculous masks. Why not show your face like a real man?" The rest of the Mexican crew began taunting them saying, "Si! Si! Take your masks off!" They laughed, "Eh, eh! C'mon!"
"Get off my land. You got a lot of balls, coming to my property, at night and uninvited," admonished Don Federico. "People have gotten killed for this kind of intrusion and trespassing on private property. And what the hell have I done to you that you feel you need to come onto my premises like hooded creeps and burn your damn crosses?"
Instantly, there was a whistling sound through the air, along with sounds of a scuffle and a loud noise coming from in back of the medical clinic. An arrow had struck one of the hooded men in his upper left thigh, and he rushed out from the back of the building screaming and holding onto his leg and hollering for help. He had tossed his torch against the corner of the building, and it was now on fire. Milton and the rest of the hooded men dropped their ropes and guns and rushed to help the crippled, crying, individual.
"David!" cried ol' man Milton, knowing that his son was the one that had been wounded with an arrow in his leg. "Gawddamn!" he said, viewing the medical building that was going up in flames. "Let's get the hell out of here!"
"Wait a minute!" the Ranger called out. "All of you men are under arrest!" Four of the men ran and scattered in different directions and slipped off their masks. The companion Ranger ran after them. Shots were fired. One of them slipped and fell to the cold gravel road and began cussing Milton for his ideas before he was arrested.
Although Don Federico's men made a valiant effort to quell the fire, it was too late. The flames quickly devoured the entire building. It had been more like another curse. Fred was gone, and there was nothing to save. Don Federico felt his world crashing, and his family coming apart, and yet, there was nothing he could do now but wait. Wait until Fred was free. Wait until he could see his son again.
By that time, Dan Land and Felicia had arrived on the premises and stood next to Victoria and Don Federico watching in horror. Fred's predicament had brought difficulty and tragedy to everyone. Even in the middle of the night, word had spread rapidly, especially along the phone lines, that fire was destroying the Mexican medical clinic. Several influential Mexican-American businessmen from across the tracks showed up with their wagons, wi
lling to help in any way they could. They were also afraid of similar incidents happening to their own small businesses.
In the months that followed, White Eagle returned to Oklahoma. Not much was left of the clinic. Rubble was cleared, but the medical building was never rebuilt. The incident on Don Federico's property was never reported, nor was any criminal indictment ever issued, as the Texas Rangers continued to keep vigil on the Juelson mansion and occasionally asked questions. David Milton limped the rest of his life and hated and cursed the Indians, the Mexicans, and any other ethnic group to his dying day. The secret members of the KKK went on discriminating and destroying other Mexican properties and lives, but evil never wins, because truth is righteous.
Six months later, Milton's warehouse and building went up in flames, and he lost everything. Months later, Garcia's grocery store across the tracks was torched and several other Mexican shops were destroyed during the night.
It was also in the middle of March of the same year that a gruesome murder was committed in the newly built town of Edcouch, northwest of Mercedes. Claude Kelly, the son-in-law of the founder of the town, was hacked to death while sleeping in his father-in-law's home.
Terror swept and spread throughout the smaller communities. Demanding they find the murderer, Mr. Edward Couch hired several detectives to investigate, including several of the Texas Rangers. During this time, Couch was a candidate for County Judge and was disliked by politically opposed groups throughout the area. The Texas Rangers figured out that Couch was the intended victim, and his son-in-law had been at the wrong place at the wrong time. It became common for prominent people and leaders to arm themselves and guard their homes and families. Vigilantes took up arms and began investigating the workers and field hands. Nothing was taken and it was not considered a robbery.
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