CHAPTER XXX
Within the next few days Ramon was sharply reminded that he lived in alittle town where news travels fast and nobody's business is exclusivelyhis own. Cortez came into his office and accepted a seat and a cigar withthat respectful but worried manner which always indicated that he hadsomething to say.
"I hear you lost five hundred dollars the other night," he observedgravely, watching his young employer's face.
"Well, what of it?" Ramon enquired, a bit testily.
"You can't afford it," Cortez replied. "And not only the money {~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} you'vegot to think of your reputation. You know how these gringos are. They keepthings quiet. They expect a young man to lead a quiet life and tend tobusiness. It's all right to have a little fun {~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} they all do it {~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} but forGod's sake be careful. You hurt your chances this way {~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} in the law, inpolitics."
Ramon jerked his head impatiently and flushed a little, but reflectionchecked his irritation. Hatred of restraint, love of personal liberty, theanimal courage that scorns to calculate consequences were his by heritage.But he knew that Cortez spoke the truth.
"All right Antonio," he said with dignity. "I'll be careful."
The next day he got a letter which emphasized the value of his henchman'swarning and made Ramon really thoughtful. It was from MacDougall, and madehim another offer for his land. It had a preamble to the effect that landvalues were falling, money was "tight," and therefore Ramon would do wellto sell now, before a further drop in prices. It made him an offer of tenthousand dollars less than MacDougall had offered before.
Ramon knew that the talk about falling values was largely bluff, thatMacDougall had heard of his losses and of his loose and idle life, andthought that he could now buy the lands at his own price. The gringo hadconfidently waited for the Mexican to make a fool of himself. Ramonresolved hotly that he would do no such thing. He had no idea of selling.He would be more careful with his money, and next summer he would go backto Arriba County, renew his campaign against MacDougall and buy some landwith the money he could get for timber and wool. He replied very curtly toMacDougall that his lands were not for sale.
After that he stayed away from poker games for a while. This was madeeasier by a new interest which had entered his life in the person of awaitress at the Eldorado Lunch room. The girls at this lunch room had longborne a bad reputation. Even in the days before the big hotel had beenbuilt, when the railroad company maintained merely a little red framebuilding there, known as the Eating House, these waitresses had been amainstay of local bachelordom. Their successors were still referred to bytheir natural enemies, the respectable ladies of the town, as "those awfuleating house girls"; while the advent of a new "hash-slinger" was always amatter of considerable interest among the unmarried exquisites whofore-gathered at the White Camel. In this way Ramon quickly heard of thenew waitress. She was reputed to be both prettier and less approachablethan most of her kind. Sidney Felberg had made a preliminaryreconnaissance and a pessimistic report.
"Nothing doing," he said. "She's got a husband somewhere and a notionshe's cut out for better things.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} I'm off her!"
This immediately provoked Ramon's interest. He went to the lunch room at atime when he knew there would be few customers. When he saw the girl hefelt a faint thrill. The reason for this was that Dora McArdle somewhatresembled Julia. The resemblance was slight and superficial, yet instantlynoticeable. She was a little larger, but had about the same figure, andthe same colour of hair, and above all the same sensuous, provocativemouth. Ramon followed her with his eyes until she became conscious of hisscrutiny, when she tossed her head with that elaborate affectation ofqueenly scorn, which seems to be the special talent of waitresseseverywhere. Nevertheless, when she came to take his order she gave him apleasant smile. He saw now that she was not really like Julia. She wascoarse and commonplace, but she was also shapely, ripe-breasted,good-natured, full of the appeal of a healthy animalism.
"What time do you get done here?" Ramon enquired.
"Don't know that it's any of your business," she replied with another oneof her crushing tosses of the head, and went away to get his order. Whenshe came back he asked again.
"What time did you say?"
"Well, about nine o'clock, if it'll give you any pleasure to know."
"I'll come for you in my car," he told her.
"Oh! will you?" and she paid no more attention to him until he started togo, when she gave him a broad smile, showing a couple of gold teeth.
At nine o'clock he was waiting for her at the door, and she went with him.He took her for a drive on the _mesa_, heading for the only road housewhich the vicinity boasted. It was a great stone house, which had beenbuilt long ago by a rich man, and had later fallen into the hands of anItalian named Salvini, who installed a bar, and had both private diningrooms and bed rooms, these latter available only to patrons in whom he hadthe utmost confidence. This resort was informally known as the "chickenranch."
When Ramon tried to take his fair partner there, on the plea that theymust have a bite to eat, she objected.
"I don't believe that place is respectable," she told him very primly. "Idon't think you ought to ask me to go there."
"O Hell!" said Ramon to himself. But aloud he proposed that they shoulddrive to an adjacent hill-top from which the lights of the town could beseen. When he had parked the car on this vantage point and lit acigarette, Dora began a narrative of a kind with which he was thoroughlyfamiliar. She was of that well-known type of woman who is found in adubious position, but explains that she has known better days. Her fatherhad been a judge in Kansas, the family had been wealthy, she had neverknown what work was until she got married, her marriage had been atragedy, her husband had drank, there had been a smash-up, the family hadmet with reverses. On and on went the story, its very tone and characterand the grammar she used testifying eloquently to the fact that she was nosuch crushed violet as she claimed to be. Ramon was bored. A year ago hewould have been more tolerant, but now he had experienced feminine charmof a really high order, and all the vulgarity and hypocrisy of this womanwas apparent to him. And yet as he sat beside her he was keenly, almostmorbidly conscious of the physical attraction of her fine young body. Forall her commonness and coarseness, he wanted her with a peculiarly urgentdesire. Here was the heat of love without the flame and light, desire withno more exaltation than accompanies a good appetite for dinner. He waspuzzled and a little disgusted.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} He did not understand that this was hisdefeated love, seeking, as such a love almost inevitably does, a vicarioussatisfaction.
Repugnance and desire struggled strangely within him. He was half-mindedto take her home and leave her alone. At any rate he was not going to sitthere and listen to her insane babble all night. To put his fortunes tothe test, he abruptly took her in his arms. She made a futile pretence ofresistance. When their lips touched, desire flashed up in him strongly,banishing all his hesitations. He talked hot foolishness to which shelistened greedily, but when he tried to take her to Salvini's again, sheinsisted on going home. Before he left her he had made anotherappointment.
Now began an absurd contest between the two in which Ramon was alwaysmanoeuvring to get her alone somewhere so that he might complete hisconquest if possible, while her sole object was to have him gratify hervanity by appearing in public with her. This he knew he could not affordto do. He could not even drive down the street with her in daylightwithout all gossips being soon aware he had done so. No one knew muchabout her, of course, but she was "one of those eating house girls" and totreat her as a social equal was to court social ostracism. He would winthe enmity of the respectable women of the town, and he knew very wellthat respectable women rule their husbands. His prospects in business andpolitics, already suffering, would be further damaged.
Here again was a struggle within him. He was of a breed that followsinstinct without fear, that
has little capacity for enduring restraints.And he knew well that the other young lawyers, the gringos, were no moremoral than he. But they were careful. Night was their friend and they werebanded together in a league of obscene secrecy. He despised this code andyet he feared it. For the gringos held the whip; he must either cringe orsuffer.
So he was careful and made compromises. Dora wanted him to take her todinner in the main dining room of the hotel, and he evaded and compromisedby taking her there late at night when not many people were present. Shewanted him to take her to a movie and he pleaded that he had already seenthe bill, and asked her if she wanted to bore him. And when she pouted hemade her a present of a pair of silk stockings. She accepted all sorts ofpresents, so that he felt he was making progress. She was making vaguepromises now of "sometime" and "maybe," and his desire was whipped up withanticipation, making him always more reckless.
One night late he took her to the Eldorado and persuaded her to drinkchampagne, thinking this would forward his purpose. The wine made her rosyand pretty, and it also made her forget her poses and affectations. Shewas more charming to him than ever before, partly because of the change inher, and partly because his own critical faculties were blunted byalcohol. He was almost in love with her and he felt sure that he was aboutto win her. But presently she began wheedling him in the old vein. Shewanted him to take her to the dance at the Woman's Club!
This would be to slap convention in the face, and at first he refused toconsider it. But he foolishly went on drinking, and the more he drank themore feasible the thing appeared. Dora had quit drinking and was pleadingwith him.
"I dare you!" she told him. "You're afraid.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} You don't think I'm goodenough for you.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} And yet you say you love me.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} I'm just as good as anygirl in this town.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} Well if you won't, I'm going home. I'm through! Ithought you really cared."
And then, when he had persuaded her not to run away, she became sad andjust a little tearful.
"It's terrible," she confided. "Just because I have to make my ownliving.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} It's not fair. I ought never to speak to you again.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} And yet, Ido care for you.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~}"
Ramon was touched. The pathos of her situation appealed strongly to histipsy consciousness. Why not do it? After all, the girl was respectable.As she said, nobody "had anything on her." The dance was a public affair.Any one could go. He had been too timid. Not three people there knew whoshe was. By God, he would do it!
At first they did not attract much attention. Dora was pretty and fairlywell dressed, in no way conspicuous. They danced exclusively with eachother, as did some other couples present, and nothing was thought of that.
But soon he became aware of glances, hostile, disapproving. Probably itwas true that only a few of the men at first knew who Dora was, but theytold other men, and some of the men told the women. Soon it was known toall that he had brought "one of those awful eating house girls" to thedance! The enormity of the mistake he had made was borne in upon himgradually. Some of the men he knew smiled at him, generally with aneye-brow raised, or with a shake of the head. Sidney Felberg, who was areal friend, took him aside.
"For the love of God, Ramon, what did you bring that Flusey here for?You're queering yourself at a mile a minute. And you're drunk, too. ForHeaven's sake, cart her away while the going's good!"
Ramon had not realized how drunk he was until he heard this warning.
"O, go to hell, Sid!" he countered. "She's as good as anybody {~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} I guess Ican bring anybody I want here.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~}"
Sidney shook his head.
"No use, no use," he observed philosophically. "But it's too bad!"
Ramon's own words sounded hollow to him. He was in that peculiar conditionwhen a man knows that he is making an ass of himself, and knows that he isgoing right ahead doing it. He was more attentive to Dora than ever. Hebrought her a glass of water, talked to her continually with his back tothe hostile room. He was fully capable of carrying the thing through, eventhough girls he had known all his life were refusing to meet his eyes.
It was Dora who weakened. She became quiet and sad, and looked infinitelyforlorn. When a couple of women got up and moved pointedly away from hervicinity, her lip began to tremble, and her wide blue eyes were brimming.
"Come on, take me away quick," she said pathetically. "I'm going to cry."
When they were in the car again she turned in the seat, buried her face inher arms and sobbed passionately with a gulping noise and spasmodicupheavals of her shoulders. Ramon drove slowly. He was sober now,painfully sober! He was utterly disgusted with himself, and bitterly sorryfor Dora. A strong bond of sympathy had suddenly been created betweenthem, for he too had tasted the bitterness of prejudice. For the firsttime Dora was not merely a frumpy woman who had provoked in him a desirehe half-despised; she was a fellow human, who knew the same miseries.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} Hehad intended to take her this night, to make a great play for success, buthe no longer felt that way. He drove to the boarding house where shelived.
"Here you are," he said gently, "I'll call you up tomorrow."
Dora looked up for the first time.
"O, no!" she plead. "Don't go off and leave me now. Don't leave me alone.Take me somewhere, anywhere.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} Do anything you want with me.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} You're allI've got!"
The Blood of the Conquerors Page 32