The Mystery of The Barranca

by Herman Whitaker

  Produced by D Alexander and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file wasproduced from images generously made available by TheInternet Archive)

  THE MYSTERY OF THE BARRANCA

  BY

  HERMAN WHITAKER

  AUTHOR OF "THE PLANTER" AND "THE SETTLER"

  NEW YORK AND LONDON HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS MCMXIII

  COPYRIGHT 1913 BY HARPER & BROTHERS

  PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA PUBLISHED FEBRUARY 1913

  [See page 248 SEYD LIFTED FRANCESCA AND LEAPED]

  "_To Vera, my daughter and gentle collaborator, whose nimble fingerslightened the load of many labors, this book is lovingly dedicated._"

  THE MYSTERY OF THE BARRANCA

  CHAPTER I

  "Oh Bob, just look at them!"

  Leaning down from his perch on the sacked mining tools which formed theapex of their baggage, Billy Thornton punched his companion in the backto call his attention to a scene which had spread a blaze of humor overhis own rich crop of freckles.

  As a matter of fact, the spectacle of two men fondly embracing canalways be depended on to stir the crude Anglo-Saxon sense of humor. Inthis case it was rendered still more ridiculous by age and portliness,but two years' wandering through interior Mexico had accustomedThornton's comrade, Robert Seyd, to the sight. After a careless glancehe resumed his contemplation of the crowd that thronged the littlestation. Exhibiting every variety of Mexican costume, from the plainwhite blanket of the peons to the leather suits of the rancheros andthe hacendados, or owners of estates, it was as picturesque andbrilliant in color and movement as anything in a musical extravaganza.The European clothing of a young girl who presently stepped out of theticket office emphasized the theatrical flavor by its vivid contrast.She might easily have been the captive heroine among bandits, and thethought actually occurred to Billy. While she paused to call her dog, ahuge Siberian wolf hound, she was hidden from Seyd's view by the stoutembracers. Therefore it was to the dog that he applied Billy's remark atfirst.

  "Isn't she a peach?"

  She seemed the finest of her race that he had ever seen, and Seyd wasjust about to say that she carried herself like a "perfect lady" whenthe dissolution of the aforesaid embrace brought the girl into view. Hestopped--with a small gasp that testified to his astonishment at herunusual type.

  Although slender for her years--about two and twenty--her throat andbust were rounded in perfect development. The clear olive complexionwas undoubtedly Spanish, yet her face lacked the firm line that hardenswith the years. Perhaps some strain of Aztec blood--from which theSpanish-Mexican is never free--had helped to soften her features,but this would not account for their pleasing irregularity. A bit_retrousee_, the small nose with its well-defined nostrils patternedafter the Celtic. Had Seyd known it, the face in its entirety--colorsand soft contours--is to be found to this day among the descendants ofthe sailors who escaped from the wreck of the Spanish Armada on the westcoast of Ireland. Pretty and unusual as she was, her greatest charmcentered in the large black eyes that shone amid her clear pallor,conveying in broad day the tantalizing mystery of a face seen for aninstant through a warm gloaming. In the moment that he caught theirvelvet glance Seyd received an impression of vivacious intelligencealtogether foreign in his experience of Mexican women.

  As she was standing only a few feet away, he knew that she must haveheard Billy's remark; but, counting on her probable ignorance ofEnglish, he did not hesitate to answer. "Pretty? Well, I shouldsay--pretty enough to marry. The trouble is that in this country theugliness of the grown woman seems to be in inverse ratio to her girlishbeauty. Bet you the fattest hacendado is her father. And she'll give himpounds at half his age."

  "Maybe," Billy answered. "Yet I'd be almost willing to take the chance."

  As the girl had turned just then to look at the approaching trainneither of them caught the sudden dark flash, supreme disdain, that drewan otherwise quite tender red mouth into a scarlet line. But for the dogthey would never have been a whit the wiser. For as the engine camehissing along the platform the brute sprang and crouched on the tracks,furiously snarling, ready for a spring at the headlight, which itevidently took for the Adam's apple of the strange monster. The trainstill being under way, the poor beast's faith would have cost it itslife but for Seyd's quickness. In the moment that the girl's cry rangout, and in less time than it took Billy to slide from his perch, Seydleaped down, threw the dog aside, and saved himself by a spring to thecow-catcher.

  "Oh, you fool! You crazy idiot!" While thumping him soundly, Billy ranon, "To risk your life for a dog--a Mexican's, at that!"

  But he stopped dead, blushed till his freckles were extinguished, as thegirl's voice broke in from behind.

  "And the Mexican thanks you, sir. It was foolhardy, yes, and dearly as Ilove the dog I would not have had you take such a risk. But now that itis done--accept my thanks." As the stouter of the embracers now camebustling up, she added in Spanish, "My uncle, senor."

  At close range she was even prettier; but, though gratitude had wipedout the flash of disdain, a vivid memory of his late remarks caused Seydto turn with relief to the hacendado. During the delivery of effusivethanks he had time to cancel a first impression--gained from a rear viewof a gaudy jacket--of a fat tenor in a Spanish opera, for the man'shead and features were cast in a massive mold. His big fleshy nosejutted out from under heavy brows that overshadowed wide, sagaciouseyes, Indian-brown in color. If the wind and weather of sixty years hadtanned him dark as a peon, it went excellently with his grizzledmustache. Despite his stoutness and the costume, every fat inch of himexpressed the soldier.

  "My cousin, senor."

  Having been placed, metaphorically, in possession of all the hacendado'searthly possessions, Seyd turned to exchange bows with a young man whohad just emerged from the baggage-room--at least he seemed young at thefirst glance. A second look showed that the impression was largely dueto a certain trimness of figure which was accentuated by the perfect fitof a suit of soft-dressed leather. When he raised his felt sombrero thehair showed thin on his temples. Neither were his poise andimperturbable manner attributes of youth.

  "It was very clever of you, senor."

  A slight peculiarity of intonation made Seyd look up. "Jealous," hethought, yet he was conscious of something else--some feeling tooelusively subtle to be analyzed on the spur of the moment. Suggesting,as it did, that he had made a "gallery play," the remark roused in himquick irritation. But had it been possible to frame an answer there wasno time, for just then the familiar cry, "_Vaminos!_" rang out, and theAmerican conductor hustled uncle, niece, and her dog into the nearestcar.

  The entire incident had occupied little more than a moment, and as, alittle bewildered by its rush, Seyd stood looking after the train hefound himself automatically raising his cap in reply to a flutteringhandkerchief.

  "You Yankees are certainly very enterprising."

  Turning quickly, Seyd met again the glance of subtle hostility. But,though he felt certain that the remark had been called forth by hissalute, he had no option but to apply it to the mining kit toward whichthe other was pointing.

  "You are for the mines, senor? In return for your service to my cousinit is, perhaps, that I can be of assistance--in the hiring of men andmules?"

  While equally quiet and subtle, the patronage in his manner was easierto meet. Undisturbed, however, when Seyd declined his offer, hesauntered quietly away.

  "_Bueno!_ As you wish."