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The Blood of the Conquerors

Page 15

by Harvey Fergusson


  CHAPTER XV

  Ramon had always been rather a solitary figure in his own town. Althoughhe belonged nominally to the "bunch" of young gringos, Jews and Mexicans,who foregathered at the White Camel Pool Hall, their amusements did nothold his interest very strongly. They played a picayune game of poker,which resulted in a tangled mass of debt; they went on occasional mildsprees, and on Saturday nights they visited the town's red light district,hardy survivor of several vice crusades, where they danced with portlymagdalenes in gaudy kimonos to the music of a mechanical piano,luxuriating in conscious wickedness.

  All of this had seemed romantic and delightfully vicious to Ramon a fewyears before, but it soon palled on his restless and discontented spirit.He had formed the habit of hunting alone, and had found adventures more tohis taste. But now he found himself in company more than ever before. Hewas bid to every frolic that took place. In the White Camel he was oftenthe centre of a small group, which included men older than himself who hadnever paid any attention to him before, but now addressed him with acertain deference. Although he understood well enough that most of theattentions paid him had an interested motive, he enjoyed the sense ofleadership which these gatherings gave him. If he was not a real leadernow, he intended to become one. He listened to what men said, watchedthem, and said little himself. He was quick to grasp the fact that areputation for shrewdness and wisdom is made by the simple method ofkeeping the mouth shut.

  He made many acquaintances among the new element which had recently cometo town from the East in search of health or money, but he made no realfriends because none of these men inspired him with respect. Only one manhe attached to himself, and that one by the simple tie of money. His namewas Antonio Cortez. He was a small, skinny, sallow Mexican with a greatmoustache, behind which he seemed to be discreetly hiding, and aconsciously cunning eye. Of an old and once wealthy Spanish family, he hadlost all of his money by reason of a lack of aptitude for business, andmade his living as a sort of professional political henchman. He was abearer of secret messages, a maker of deals, an eavesdropper. The Latinaptitude for intrigue he had in a high degree. He was capable of almostanything in the way of falsehood or evasion, but he had that greatcapacity for loyalty which is so often the virtue of weaklings.

  "I have known your family for many years," he told Ramon importantly, "AndI feel an interest in you, almost as though you were my own son. You needan older friend to advise you, to attend to details in the management ofyour great estate. You will probably go into politics and you need apolitical manager. As an old friend of your family I want to do thesethings for you. What do you say?"

  Ramon answered without any hesitation and prompted solely by intuition:

  "I thank you, friend, and I accept your offer."

  He knew instinctively that he could trust this man and also dominate him.It was just such a follower that he needed. Nothing was said about money,but on the first of the month Ramon mailed Cortez a check for a hundreddollars, and that became his regular salary.

 

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