Her eyes seemed unusually large, wide open frankly, as innocent as spring violets. Was she always like this--was this the real, true Zoraida-- He felt her influence upon him, pervading his senses like heavy perfume, and spoke hurriedly.
"You and I are different sorts of people," he answered. "Our ideas as well as our ideals are of different orders."
"And what if I altered?" whispered Zoraida, coming closer to him.
"What it I discarded all of my ideas and ideals. Yes, and my ambitions with them! What then, Señor Jim Kendric?"
He shook his head and moved restlessly.
"I am no woman's man, you know that. And if I were, you know also that you are not my kind of woman."
And still no passionate outburst came from Zoraida denied! Rather she grew more deeply meditative. Almost she seemed saddened and weary.
"Your kind of woman," she mused. And then, in pure jest, "Like Escobar's captive?"
For some obscure reason after which he did not grope the half sneer of the words stung Kendric into a sharp retort.
"By heaven, yes!" he cried. "There's the sort of girl for any man to put his trust in, to give the best that is in him!"
Zoraida gasped. Utter amazement filled her eyes. Then came incredulity: she would not believe. But when she saw the seriousness of his eyes, her passion burst out upon him. Her two hands rose and clenched themselves on her panting breast, her eyes lost their shadow of amazement and grew brilliant with anger.
"That little baby-faced doll!" she cried. "She has dared make eyes at you. And you, blind fool that you are, have turned from me to her!" Her voice shook, her whole body trembled visibly, then stiffened. In a flash all girlish softness was gone; she looked as cold and cruel as steel. "I had thought to let her go when the ransom came. Now I shall have other plans for her."
Kendric stared.
"In the first place," he said with an assumption of carelessness, "you have overshot the mark: Betty Gordon hasn't made eyes at me at all and I'm not in love with her and have no intentions of being. Next, I fail to see what has happened that would alter your plans in her regard?"
Zoraida laughed her disbelief.
"Any girl in her place would make eyes at you," she retorted. "And as for my plans, perhaps you may be allowed to watch the working out of them! Would you enjoy," she taunted him, "the sight of Betty Gordon in a steel cage into which we allowed to enter a certain pet of mine?"
At first he did not understand. Then he stared at her speechlessly.
Words of Juanita, spoken fearfully that morning, recurred to him: "She would give me to her cat, her terrible, terrible cat, to play with!" He opened his mouth to lift his voice in hot protest; then he bit back the words, savagely calling himself a fool for the mad thought. Even to Zoraida's lawlessness there must be a limit; even the cold cruelty looking out of her oblique eyes now could not carry her so far. And yet the laugh with which he answered her was a trifle shaky.
"We are talking nonsense," he said abruptly. "And Bruce is expecting you. When you finish distorting facts for his consumption I'd like a word with him."
Zoraida's face went white.
"It is in my heart," she said in a dry whisper, "to give orders that you will never see another sun rise!"
"Give your orders then," he snapped. "I'm sick of things as they are.
Send in a gang of your cutthroats and I'll give you my word I'd rather fight my way through them than stand by and watch you poison honest men's souls."
She stepped across the room and put out her hand as though to the bell on the table. Kendric watched her sternly. She stopped and looked at him wonderingly. Suddenly she dropped her hand to her side and with the gesture came a swift alteration in her expression. A strange smile molded her lips, an inscrutable look dawned in the dark eyes.
"I knew already that you were a brave man, Jim Kendric," she said. "I was forgetting, losing all clear thought because a man had dismissed me from his presence? Well, of that, more another time. But brave men I need, brave men I must have in that which comes soon. If there is not one way, then there will be another to draw you to my side."
She was going out but stopped as they heard horses in the yard. She stood still, waiting. Presently there came an unsteady step at the front door. A hand fumbled, the door opened and Twisty Barlow entered. His arm was in a sling, a bandage bound his forehead, his eyes shone feverishly. He stopped on the threshold and stared at them. Kendric spoke quickly.
"Twisty," he said, "do you know who shot you?"
Barlow merely shook his head.
"I did. I was at Bruce's. I did not know you but----"
"But you'd have shot just the same, anyway?" grunted Barlow.
"You got yourself into damned bad company, Barlow. But that's your affair. Just tell me one thing: Was it not at Zoraida Castelmar's orders that you went?"
Barlow's look shifted for an instant to Zoraida's half smiling face. But his hesitation was brief.
"No," he said shortly.
An hour later Kendric gave up waiting for Bruce and went off to his bedroom. On his table were two letters in their envelopes. They were the letters he and Bruce had written, telling of Betty Gordon's captivity.
CHAPTER XII
IN WHICH AN OVERTURE IS MADE, AN ANSWER IS
POSTPONED AND A DOOR IS LOCKED
In his bedroom Jim Kendric sat for a long time pondering that night.
What had appeared to him the simplest, most straight-away errand in the world had brought him down here, just the time-honored search for treasure. In all particulars the adventure had seemed the usual one, two men undertaking to share whatever lay ahead, expense, danger or loot.
And through no fault of his own Kendric saw simplicity altered into complexity. There were Barlow's changed attitude, the desires and ambitions of Zoraida, the absurdity of Bruce West's infatuation, the interference of Ruiz Rios and finally the situation in which Betty Gordon found herself.
"I came down this way to get my hands on buried treasure, if it exists,"
Kendric at last told himself irritably; "not to work out the salvations of half the souls in Mexico! If the issue becomes complex it is because I am getting turned away from the main thing. What Barlow and Bruce do is up to them; Barlow, for one, ought to know better, and Bruce has got to cut his eye-teeth sooner or later. It's up to me to be on my way."
Which did not entirely dispose of all matters, since it ignored Zoraida and made no place for Betty. The latter, however, he did not bar from his thoughts or even from his plannings: If she said the word and would take the chance with him, he'd find the way to get her safely out of this house of intrigue. He was constitutionally optimistic enough to decide that. Among the bushes out in the garden a rifle was hidden; slung under his left arm pit was a dependable friend; and in his heart he was spoiling for a row.
Such was his mood, an hour after he had gone to his room, when a rap discreetly announced a soft-footed somebody at his door. He rose eagerly, thinking it would be Bruce or perhaps Barlow. But when he opened the door it was Ruiz Rios who slipped noiselessly into the room, swiftly closing and locking the door after him.
"Not in bed yet, my friend?" smiled Rios. "It is well. I have something to say to you."
Kendric went back to his chair from which he eyed Rios narrowly. The Mexican's look was full of craft.
"Let's have it, Rios. What now?"
"What I said to you earlier in the evening came from the heart," said Rios. "That without my help you cannot leave; that you may have that help. For a price."
His utterance was incisive; his voice, eager and quick, filled the room.
Evidently he had no fear of eavesdroppers. Kendric stared at him curiously.
"For a double-dealing gentleman you have considerable assurance," he grunted. "You don't seem to care who hears."
Rios waved an impatient hand.
"I know what I am about," he retorted. "La Señorita Zoraida is in her own rooms where she entertains one of your f
riends while the other cools his heels in her anteroom. I have assurance, yes; because just now I am the man of the hour! Your destiny and that of your compatriot, Miss Betty, as well as the destinies of your two friends and perchance of yet others, lies in my hand."
"You talk big when Zoraida's eyes are not on you," said Kendric.
Rios stared insolently, then shrugged and made for himself a tiny white paper cigarita.
"I talk big because I can, as you say north of the border, 'deliver the goods.' Do you wish to go free?"
"Since you ask it," said Kendric drily, "yes. I've got no stomach for your crowd here."
"And you would like to take with you the pretty little Betty?" Rios's eyes were full of insinuation. Kendric felt an impulsive desire to kick him but for the time kept his head and witheld his boot.
"Speak on, Señor Man of the Hour," he jeered. "Somehow I'm not particularly sleepy yet. If you've really got anything to say let's have it."
"It is this: The treasure you have come so far to find will never be yours.
Mine it may be; if not mine, then Zoraida's. On my honor it will never go into your hands or those of Barlow."
"Your honor," laughed Kendric, "fits well in your mouth, Ruiz Rios, but rides light in the scales."
"You mean you would want proof?" Rios was imperturbable. "It may be given you in due time, but only when it is too late for you to make any stock out of it. Now, for what you know, I offer you your own safety and that of Miss Betty. Have I not marked how you look at her?"
He laughed in his turn.
"If this is all you have to say," answered Kendric, "suppose you shut the door from the outside?"
For just now, while he had thought of other matters, he had pondered on this one also. Even were he disposed to treat with Rios, the secret was not his to give. Further, once Rios had the knowledge he sought, he would no doubt fail to keep his word. And in any case there was always the possibility of getting away without the Mexican's aid; and if there was treasure, as Rios so plainly believed, it should be worth many times the twenty-five thousand dollars which had been demanded of Betty's father. On top of all this it was sheer nonsense to plan on what Betty might have to say until her word was spoken. Hence Jim was no little pleased to baffle Rios.
"You are thinking of yourself," said Rios sharply. "Not of the girl. Can you not imagine that it might be unpleasant for her, left here over long?"
Then Kendric sought to be as crafty as his visitor.
"Am I responsible for all wandering damsels in distress?" he asked coldly.
"But Miss Betty----"
"Exactly. What the devil is Miss Betty to me? I never saw her until a few hours ago."
"But," insisted Rios, "in some soils some flowers bloom quickly! Love comes when it comes, in a year, in a day, in a moment."
"Love!" Jim's surprise was not altogether feigned. Then he laughed and remembered his craft. He was thinking that already Zoraida suspected him of being too warmly interested; he did not know but that Rios was here now on Zoraida's errand, making pretenses the while he sought to ferret out real emotions. And so for Zoraida's sake should the words be carried to her, he cried as though in high amusement: "Love? What are you thinking of, man?"
He saw that he had puzzled Rios. The Mexican had been convinced of his keen interest in the girl and, further, knew from of old how lightly Jim Kendric held such mere bagatelles as dollars. Kendric drew a certain satisfaction from the situation. But his frank grin died away slowly as Rios went on.
"We are not friends, you and I, señor," he said smoothly. "But just now that matters not, since my personal interests move me to do you a kindness. Of what happens to you later on, I care less than that." He snapped his fingers. "Perhaps you do not fully understand either your own case or that of Miss Betty. You are to be held here indefinitely; unless you decide to throw your lot in with La Señorita Zoraida's and become her man, body and soul, there will come a time, suddenly, when her patience will die and her wrath rise and you will die too. And for Miss Betty--there remains always the puma."
Rios spoke with every sign of sincerity. Kendric, with what he knew of Zoraida to guide his thoughts to a conclusion, was more than half convinced that the man was telling the truth. Rios himself was not above murder; hardly now had the body of Escobar stiffened when he seemed to have forgotten the rebel captain and the deed of violence.
And Zoraida was Rios's blood cousin.
"You appear to be sure that there is treasure?" Kendric said.
"Yes. There is no question." Again was Rios unusually frank. "I could lie to you but there is no need. The treasure is beyond your reach; it may fall to my hand. Yes, I am sure."
"What do you know of it? What makes you so confident?"
Rios smiled.
"Again there is no need to lie to you. You have marked that my cousin is a very rich woman? There is no richer in all Mexico. And why?
Because she has long been in possession of a portion of the hidden wealth of the Montezumas. A portion, mark you? For there is some sign which she has understood to tell her that there is still other hidden treasure. Always, since she was a little girl, has she looked for it, never content with what she has. And if I come first to it--Think, señor!" His eyes brightened, a flush warmed his dusky skin, he lifted his head arrogantly. "It will mean that I, even I, can dictate in some things to Zoraida! It will mean that she must join forces with me. It will mean that she and I together will go far, will rise high. As she will be the one bright star in all Mexico, so will I be the newly risen sun."
"So," muttered Kendric, "you two are tarred with the same stick!"
Now Rios's black eyes were deadly.
"What you know means everything to me," he said, his voice at last sunk to a harsh whisper. "I killed Escobar for less. Remember that, Señor Americano!"
Kendric ignored the threat.
"What of my friend?" he demanded. "Even were I of a mind to talk turkey with you, there is Barlow. Half is his."
"Barlow is touched with madness. Have I not told you he will have none of it? You have eyes, señor. Already my fair cousin has made of Barlow a tame animal like her cat. When she commands, he will speak.
Think you he will remember in that dizzy moment that you have claims to be safeguarded? All will go to Zoraida. What you are pleased to call your share, along with his own."
Jim hated to believe that. And yet he did believe. Tonight Barlow had looked at him out of hard, unfriendly eyes; he, himself, had shot Barlow out of a cattle raider's saddle.--Suddenly, startling Rios, Kendric's fist came smashing down on his table.
"Here I've just been deciding the whole game is simple enough," he cried, "and along you come messing it all up again! Clear out. I'm going to sleep."
"And my answer?"
"Talk to me tomorrow, if you've a mind to. Most likely I'll tell you to go to blazes, but that can be said as well after breakfast as now."
Rios accepted his dismissal equably.
"For me there is gold at stake," he said, going out without protest. "For you there is your life and Miss Betty's. I can afford to wait as well as you. Buenos noches, señor."
"Go to the devil," retorted Kendric, and banged the door shut after him.
Though he had not intimated his intention to his visitor, Kendric, holding to his determination to simplify matters, had made up his mind to have a talk with Barlow first of all. Since that could not come until tomorrow, the thing now was to go to bed. He undressed and put out his light. Then he flipped up his window shade. Only when he was about to thrust his head out of the open window to inhale the fragrant night air and have his little "look around," did he discover the bars to any possible escape there; a heavy iron grill had been fastened across the opening. Just how it was secured he could not tell since it had been set in place from outside and though he thrust his hand through the bars he could not reach far enough to locate the staples or hooks which held it in place. He shook it tentatively; it was amply solid.
But the door was open from his room to the bath. He groped his way across the smaller room and found the knob of the door which led to the room Barlow had occupied last night. That door was locked. As he fumbled with it he heard someone stir in Barlow's room.
"Who's there?" he called out. "That you, Twisty?"
There was no answer. He rapped on the door and called again. Then he heard quick steps across the room and a door closed; whoever had been there, listening without doubt to his talk with Rios, had gone.
He came back and passing through his own little sitting-room tried the door to the hall, that through which Rios had departed. Fastened by heavy iron hooks on the other side; he could hear them grate in their staples as he shook the door.
"A man had better be in bed this time of night than rapping at locked doors," he decided. And in five minutes was asleep.
CHAPTER XIII
CONCERNING WOMAN'S WILES AND WITCHERY
When Jim woke next morning his first act was to try doors and window.
All were as he had left them last night. But since he was not the man for worry before breakfast he went into his tub singing. When he had splashed refreshingly in the cool water and thereafter had dressed, breakfast was ready for him. For, while he was in his own room he heard the door to the room Barlow had slept in the first night open. And when he went through the bath to see who was there he saw a tray spread on a little table by a window, the coffee steaming. No one was there. He tried the outer door which led to the hall. Locked, of course.
So he sat down and uncovered the hot dishes and made a hearty meal.
"They've certainly got the big bulge on the situation," he conceded.
"They could starve a man, poison his rolls or bore a bullet into him while he slept, and who outside to know about it?"
Now he had the run of four rooms and could look out into the gardens.
Not so bad, he consoled himself. He had his smoke and sat back in his chair, assuring himself that there were advantages in being shut off by himself where he could take time to shape his plans. But as an hour passed in silence--not a sound from any part of the big house all of whose inmates might have been asleep or dead--and another hour dragged by after it, he grew first impatient and then angry. He had found that all of his planning could be done in five minutes: It resolved itself down to a decision to have a talk with Barlow and then, with or without help from Ruiz Rios, to make a bolt for the open. If Bruce and Barlow would come to their senses and join him, it would all be so simple. Three able-bodied, determined Americans against a handful of Zoraida's hirelings.
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