The Blood of the Conquerors

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by Harvey Fergusson


  CHAPTER XVIII

  The second morning after this ride, while he was labouring over a note tothe girl, he was amazed to get one from her postmarked at Lorietta, astation a hundred miles north of town at the foot of the Mora Mountains,in which many of the town people spent their summer vacations. It was asmall square missive, exhaling a faint scent of lavender, and was simpleand direct as a telegram.

  "We have gone to the Valley Ranch for a month," she wrote. "We had notintended to go until August, but there was a sudden change of plans.Somebody saw you and me yesterday. I had an awful time. Please don't tryto see me or write to me while we're here. It will be best for us. I'll beback soon. I love you."

  He sat glumly thinking over this letter for a long time. Thedisappointment of learning that he would not see her for a month was badenough, but it was not the worst thing about this sudden development. Forthis made him realize what alert and active opposition he faced on thepart of her mother and brother. Their dislike for him had been mademanifest again and again, but he had supposed that Julia was successfullydeceiving them as to his true relations with her. He had thought that hewas regarded merely as an undesirable acquaintance; but if they werechanging their plans because of him, taking the girl out of his reach,they must have guessed the true state of affairs. And for all that heknew, they might leave the country at any time. His heart seemed to give asharp twist in his body at this thought. He must take her as soon as shereturned to town. He could not afford to miss another chance. And meantimehis affairs must be gotten in order.

  He had been neglecting his new responsibilities, and there was anastonishing number of things to be done--debts to be paid, tax assessmentsto be protested, men to be hired for the sheep-shearing. His uncle hadleft his affairs at loose ends, and on all hands were men bent on takingadvantage of the fact. But he knew the law; he had known from childhoodthe business of raising sheep on the open range which was the backbone ofhis fortune; and he was held in a straight course by the determination tokeep his resources together so that they would strengthen him in hispurpose.

  A few weeks before, he had sent Cortez to Arriba County to attend to someminor matters there, and incidentally to learn if possible what MacDougallwas doing. Cortez had spent a large part of his time talking with theMexicans in the San Antonio Valley, eavesdropping on conversations inlittle country stores, making friends, and asking discreet questions at_bailes_ and _fiestas_.

  "Well; how goes it up there?" Ramon asked him when he came to the officeto make his report.

  "It looks bad enough," Cortez replied lighting with evident satisfactionthe big cigar his patron had given him. "MacDougall has men working thereall the time. He bought a small ranch on the edge of the valley just theother day. He is not making very fast progress, but he'll own the valleyin time if we don't stop him."

  "But who is doing the work? Who is his agent?" Ramon enquired.

  "Old Solomon Alfego, for one. He's boss of the county, you know. He hatesa gringo as much as any man alive, but he loves a dollar, too, andMacDougall has bought him, I'm afraid. I think MacDougall is lending moneythrough him, getting mortgages on ranches that way."

  "Well; what do you think we had better do?" Ramon enquired. The situationlooked bad on its face, but he could see that Cortez had a plan.

  "Just one thing I thought of," the little man answered slowly. "We havegot to get Alfego on our side. If we can do that, we can keep outMacDougall and everybody else {~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} buy when we get ready. We couldn't payAlfego much, but we could let him in on the railroad deal {~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} somethingMacDougall won't do. And Alfego, you know, is a _penitente_. He's _hermanomayor_ (chief brother) up there. And all those little _rancheros_ are_penitentes_. It's the strongest _penitente_ county in the State, and youknow none of the _penitentes_ like gringos. None of those fellows likeMacDougall; they're all afraid of him. All they like is his money. Youhaven't so much money, but you could spend some. You could give a few_bailes_. You are Mexican; your family is well-known. If you were a_penitente_, too.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~}"

  Cortez left his sentence hanging in the air. He nodded his head slowly,his cigar cocked at a knowing angle, looking at Ramon through narrowedlids.

  Ramon sat looking straight before him for a moment. He saw in imaginationa procession of men trudging half-naked in the raw March weather, theirbacks gashed so that blood ran down to their heels, beating themselves andeach other.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} The _penitentes_! Other men, even gringos, had risen to powerby joining the order. Why not he? It would give him just the prestige andstanding he needed in that country. He would lose a little blood. He wouldwin {~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} everything!

  "You are right, _amigo_," he told Cortez. "But do you think it can bearranged?"

  "I have talked to Alfego about it," Cortez admitted. "I think it can bearranged."

 

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