The Mystery of The Barranca

by Herman Whitaker

  CHAPTER II

  "I'll be with you in a minute, folks."

  To appreciate the accent which the American station agent laid on"folks" it is necessary that one should have been marooned for a coupleof years in a ramshackle Mexican station with only a chocolate-skinnedhenchman, or _mozo_, for companion. It asserted at once welcome andpatriotic feeling.

  "You know this isn't the old United States," he added, hurrying by."These greasers are the limit. Close one eye for half a minute and whenyou open it again it's a cinch you'll find the other gone. If they'djust swipe each other's baggage it wouldn't be so bad. But they stealtheir own, then sue the company for the loss. Here, you sons of burros,drop that!" with which he dived headlong into the midst of the freefight that a crowd of _cargadores_, or porters, were waging over theup train baggage.

  Taking warning, the two returned to their own baggage. As they waited,talking, these two closest of friends offered a fairly startlingcontrast. In the case of Seyd, a graduate in mining of CaliforniaUniversity, years of study and strain had tooled his face till hisaggressive nose stood boldly out above hollowed cheeks and black-grayeyes. A trifle over medium height, the hundred and sixty pounds he oughtto have carried had been reduced a good ten pounds by years ofprospecting in Mexico and Arizona. This loss of flesh, however, had beenmore than made up by a corresponding gain in muscle. Moving a few pacesaround the baggage, he exhibited the easy, steady movement that comesfrom the perfect co-ordination of nerve and muscle. His feet seemedfirst to feel, then to take hold of the ground. In fact, his entireappearance conveyed the impression of force under perfect control, readyto be turned loose in any direction.

  Shorter than Seyd by nearly half a foot, Billy Thornton, on the otherhand, was red where the other was dark, loquacious instead ofthoughtful. From his fiery shock of red hair and undergrowths of redstubble to his slangy college utterance he proved the theory of theattraction of opposites. Bosom friends at college, it had always beenunderstood between them that when either got his "hunch" the othershould be called in to share it. And as the luck--in the shape of a richcopper mine--had come first to Seyd, he had immediately wired for Billy.They were talking it over, as they so often before had done, when theagent returned.

  "Why--you're the fellow that was down here last fall, ain't you?" heasked, offering his hand. "Didn't recognize you at first. You don't meanto say that you have denounced--"

  "--The Santa Gertrudis prospect?" Seyd nodded. "He means the oppositionI told you we might expect." He answered Billy's look of inquiry.

  "Opposition!" The agent spluttered. "That's one word for it. But sinceyou're so consarnedly cool about it, mister, let me tell you that thismakes the eleventh time that mine has been denounced, and so far nobodyhas succeeded in holding it." Looking at Billy, probably as being themore impressionable, he ran on: "The first five were Mex and as therewere no pesky foreign consuls to complicate the case with bothersomeinquiries, they simply vanished. One by one they came, hit the trail outthere in a cloud of dust, and were never seen again.

  "After them came the Dutchman, a big fat fellow, obstinate as one of hisown mules, and a scrapper. For a while it looked as though he'd makegood--might have, perhaps, if he hadn't taken to using his dynamite boxfor a pillow. You see, his peons used to steal the sticks to fish, andso many of them blew themselves into kingdom come that he was alwaysrunning shy on labor. So, as I say, he used the box for a pillow till itwent off one night and distributed him all over the Barranca deGuerrero. Just how it came about of course nobody knew, nor cared, andthey never did find a piece big enough to warrant an inquest. It justwent as accidental, and he'd scarcely, so to say, stopped raining beforea Frenchman jumped the claim. But he only lasted for a couple of days,landed back here within a week, and jumped the up train without a word.

  "Last came the English Johnnies, two of 'em, the real 'haw, haw' boys;no end of style to them and their outfit. As they had hosts of friendsup Mexico City, it would never have done to use harsh measures. But ifthe Johnnies had influence of one sort, Don Luis--he's the landowner,you know--had it to burn of another. Not only did he gain a general'scommission during the revolutionary wars, but he's also a member ofthe Mexican Congress, so close to the government that he needs onlyto wink to get what he wants. So just about the time the Johnnies hadfinished development work and begun to deliver ore out here at therailroad--presto! freights went up, prices went down, till they'd wipedout the last cent of profit. Out go the Johnnies--enter you." With realearnestness he concluded: "Of course, there's nothing I'd like betterthan to have you for neighbors. It ain't so damn lively here. But I'dhate to see you killed. Take my advice, and quit."

  He had addressed himself principally to Billy. But instead ofdiscouragement, impish delight illumined the latter's freckles.

  "A full-sized general with the whole Mexican government behind him?Bully! I never expected anything half so good. But, say! If the mine isso rich why don't the old cock work it himself instead of leaving it tobe denounced by any old tramp?"

  "Because he don't have to. He has more money now than he ever can use.He is worth half a million in cattle alone. And he's your old-fashionedsort that hate the very thought of change. By the way, he just left onthe up train, him and his niece."

  "What, the girl with the dog?" Billy yelled it. "Didn't you see--no, youwere in the baggage-room. Well, he's our dearest friend--presented Seydhere with all of his horses, cattle, lands, and friends. A bit of amining claim ought not to cut much ice in an order like that."

  "You met them?" The agent shook his head, however, after he had heardthe particulars. "Don't count much on Spanish courtesies. They go nodeeper than the skin. Nice girl, the niece, more like us than Mex,and she ain't full-blood, for matter of that. Her grandfather wasIrish, a free lance that fought with Diaz during the French war. Hisson by a Mexican wife married Don Luis's sister, and when he died sheand her daughter came to keep the old fellow's house, for he's beena widower these twenty years. Like most of the sprigs of the bestMexican families, she was educated in Europe, so she speaks threelanguages--English, French, and Spanish. Yes, they're nice people fromthe old Don down, but lordy! how he hates us gringos. He'll repay youfor the life of the dog--perhaps by saving you alive for a month? Butafter that--take my advice, and git."

  While he was talking, Seyd had listened with quiet interest. Now he putin, "We will--just as quickly as we can hire men and burros to pack ourstuff out to the mine."

  "Well, if you will--you will." Having thus divested himself ofresponsibility, the agent continued: "And here's where your troublesbegin. Though donkey-drivers are as thick as fleas in this town, I doubtwhether you can hire one to go to Santa Gertrudis."

  "But the Englishmen?" Seyd questioned. "They must have had help."

  "Brought their entire outfit down with them from Mexico City."

  After Seyd's rejection of his offer the hacendado had entered intoconversation with a ranchero at the other end of the platform, and,glancing a little regretfully in his direction, Seyd asked, "Do youknow him?"

  The agent nodded. "Sebastien Rocha? Yes, he's a nephew to the General."

  "He offered to get me mules."

  "He did! Why, man alive! he hates gringos worse than--worse than I hateMexicans. _He_ offered you help? I doubt he'll do it when he knowswhere you're going." In a last attempt at dissuasion he added, "But ifhe doesn't I can't see how you can win out with rates and prices at thesame mark that wiped out the Johnnies."

  "That's our business." Seyd laughed. Then, warmed by the honest fellow'sundoubted anxiety, he said, "Do you remember any consignment of brickthat ever came to this station?"

  "Sure, three car loads, billed to the Dutchman. But what has that todo--"

  "Just this--that the man had the right idea. Though the mine is therichest copper proposition I have ever seen--besides carrying goldvalues sufficient to cover smelting expenses--it would never pay, as yousay, to ship it out at present prices. But once smelted down into coppermatte there's a fo
rtune in it, as the Dutchman knew. He had already laidout the foundation of an old-style Welsh smelter, and, though it isn'tvery big, we propose to make it stake us to a modern plant."

  "So that's your game!" The agent whistled.

  "That's our game," Billy confirmed. "If dear cousin over there can onlybe persuaded to furnish the mules we will do the rest. Go ask him, Bob."

  Seyd hesitated. "I'm afraid that I turned him down rather roughly. Let'stry first ourselves."

  For the last half hour their baggage had formed a center of interestfor the porters, mule-drivers, and hackmen who formed the bulk of thecrowd, and the snap of the agent's fingers brought a score of themrunning. Each tried to make his calling and election sure by seizing apiece of baggage. In ten seconds the pile was dissolved and was flowingoff in as many different directions when Seyd's answer to a questionbrought all to a sudden halt.

  "To the _mina_ Santa Gertrudis."

  Crash! the kit of mining tools dropped from the shoulder of the muleteerwho had asked the question, and it had no more than touched earth beforeit was buried under the other pieces.

  "I told you so," the agent commented, and was going on when a voicespoke in from their rear.

  "What is the trouble, senors?"

  The hacendado had approached unnoticed, and, turning quickly, Seyd metfor the third time the equivocal look, now lightened by a touch ofamusement. Suppressing a recurrence of irritation he answered, quietly:"We wish to go to the hacienda San Nicolas, senor, upon which we havedenounced the mining claim known as the Santa Gertrudis. For some reasonno one of these men will hire. Perhaps you can tell why?"

  "Now your fat's in the fire," the agent muttered.

  Whether or no he had overheard Seyd's answer to the muleteer, the man'sdark face gave no sign. "_Quien sabe?_ Ask their blood brother, theburro. One would have little to do and time to waste if he attempted toplumb a mule-driver's superstitions. _Ola_, Carlos."

  While he was talking the crowd had continued to back away, but itstopped now and stood staring, for all the world like a herd offrightened cattle. The big muleteer who had led the retreat returned ona shuffling run, and as he stood before the hacendado, sombrero in hand,Seyd saw the fear in his face.

  "This fellow sometimes works for me. You will need"--he paused,overlooking the baggage--"three burros and two riding-mules. He has onlytwo. _Ola_, Mattias!" When a second muleteer had come with the samebreathless haste he gave the quiet order, "You will take these senors toSanta Gertrudis."

  Bowing slightly, he had walked away before Seyd could lay hands onenough Spanish to state his obligation, and as, pausing, he then lookedback his face once more changed, expressing knowledge and sarcasticamusement at the mixed feelings behind Seyd's halting thanks. His bow,returning the customary answer, was more than half shrug.

  "It is nothing."

  * * * * *

  "One moment, senor!"

  The burrors having departed with their loads, Seyd and Billy weremounting to follow when the hacendado called to them from the platform."To-night, of course, you will stay in Chilpancin. But to-morrow? Bywhich trail do you travel?" When Seyd answered he added a word ofcounsel: "I thought so. Most strangers take that way. But there is ashorter by many miles. Instruct your drivers to take the old trail downthe Barranca."

  Thanking him, they rode on.

  In accordance with the mysterious and immutable law which places allMexican cities at least a mile from the railroad, they traveled nearlyhalf an hour before sighting, across a barranca, the town cuddled in ahollow beneath the opposite hills. Under the rich light of the waningsun the variegated color of its walls, houses, churches, merged in warmgold, glowed like a topaz in the setting of the dark hills. Paved withriver cobbles and crooked as a dog's hind leg, a street fell steeplydown into the barranca from whose black depths uprose the low roar ofrushing waters. Entering upon it, while still within sound of a freightengine puffing upgrade to the station, they dropped back four hundredyears into the midst of a life that differed but little from that of theAztecs under the Montezumas.

  On both sides of the street one-story adobes flamed in all the colors ofthe rainbow--roses, purples, umber, greens--a vivid alternation whichwas toned only by the weathered gray of heavy doors and massive oakengrills across the windows. At the tinkle of their bells there would comea flash of Spanish eyes in the cool dusk behind the windows, and apretty face would emerge from deep shadow to fade again before Billy'ssmile. The peons and hooded women on the narrow causeways were equallyreserved. They either passed without according them notice or returnedto their glances a stolid stare. Theirs were the dark, impenetrablefaces of old Mexico.

  While they were climbing at a snail's pace the opposite hill, dusk fellover the town, but presently, riding out of a black alley into the mainplaza, they emerged on a scene that caused even the matter-of-fact Billyto exclaim in wonder. On all four sides hundreds of torches blossomed inthe dusk, toning with soft rich lights the vivid adobes, tinting thecold white blankets and garments of the hucksters who squatted by theirdisplays--guavas and pineapples, cocoanuts, mangoes, alligator pears,and other fruits of the tropics which shared the same straw mat withcabbage, squash, onions, and other familiar produce of the cold North.In accordance with the shrewd policy that has always kept the RomanChurch in close touch with its world, the booths extended to the verydoors of a stone church which occupied one side of the square, and theheavy odors of fried garlic mingled with the breath of incense thatfloated out through the wide doors.

  A religious fiesta was in full blast, and they had to turn the mules toavoid the stream of worshipers who shuffled across the square, up thestone steps, and the length of the paved aisles to the great altar whichblazed with the light of a thousand candles. Looking, as they rode past,they saw a peon--whose spotless blanket shone whiter by contrast withthe scarlet serape which had fallen backward across his calves--erecton his knees, arms extended in a rigid cross, a figure of deathlessadoration before the Virgin. It required only the brazen storm of bellsthat just then broke overhead to complete the atmosphere of savagemedievalism. The worshipers might easily have been the first Aztecconverts crawling before the superior altars of the Spanish conquerors'God.

  Seyd, always thoughtful and sensitive to impression, felt the influenceof the scene, and the feeling deepened as their mules struck hollowechoes in the vaulted passage of the hotel whose iron-studded gates,barred windows, yard-thick walls all bespoke a life which had not yetprogressed beyond the era of sieges. A runway led down into a widecourtyard and to the stables which lay under a tiled gallery, the hotelproper, for the cell-like sleeping-rooms used by the better class openedupon it.

  But the real life of the place surged in the patio, or courtyard, below,and, after they had dined on rice, eggs, and beans, or frijoles, Billyand Seyd perched on the balustrade of the gallery to watch its ebb andflow. Into the great stone inclosure muleteers of Tepic, freighters ofGuadalajara, potters of Cuernavaca and Taxco, pilgrims to the farshrines, and their first cousins in dirt and importunity, the beggars,had poured from three main lines of travel, and they were so crowdedthat it was difficult to find space among the mule panniers, crates,and bundles for their tiny cooking-fires. On occasion a face, plumpand darkly pretty, would bloom out of the dusk as a woman fanned thecharcoal under her clay cooking-pots. Again, a leaping flame wouldillumine a hawk face, deeply bronzed and heavily mustached, or lend adeeper dye to the scarlet of some sleeper's serape. In its rich sombercolor the scene made a picture that would have been loved by Rembrandt.Just as it had done for centuries before the great master was born tohis brush, the scene changed and mingled, ebbed and flowed, while itsunits passed among the fires, exchanging the gossip of the trails. Thehum of it rose to the gallery like the low roar of a distant torrent,but out of it Seyd was able to catch and translate isolated scraps.

  "Take not thy _aguardiente_ to El Quiss, _amigo_. The administrador--Itell it to my ruth, since I was well skinned by him--is a thie
f of thenether world. He would flay a flea for the hide and fat."

  "_Ola_, Carlos! The _jefe_ [chief of police] of San Pedro is keeping aneye for thy return ever since he bought the last load of charcoal."

  "The swine! Is it my fault that he expects good oak burning for theprice of soft ceiba?"

  One remark caused Seyd to prick his ears, for it was addressed to one oftheir own muleteers. "Where go the gringos, _amigo_? To Santa Gertrudis?And thou art driving for them? _Hombre_, hast thou so little regard forthy neck?"

  The answer was lost in the sudden braying of a burro in the stablesunderneath, but the voice of the questioner, a strident tenor, rose overall. "An order from Don Sebastien? _Carambar-r-r-r-a!_ And you go by theold trail down the Barranca? But, _hombre_! It is--" The voice loweredso that Seyd could not hear.

  Imagining that the talk bore merely on the condition of the trail, hedismissed it from his mind and returned to his study of the crowd,permitting his gaze to wander here, there, wherever the incessantmovement brought to the surface some bit of color or trait of life. Inthis he obeyed a natural instinct. Endowed with a temperament nicelybalanced between the philosophical and the practical, he had taken anauxiliary course in "letters" along with his mining for the sole purposeof broadening his viewpoint and widening his touch with life. Indeed, hehad bent his profession to the same end, using it as a means to traveland study, in which he differed altogether from Billy, who was themining engineer in every dimension. Where Billy saw only the externals,humors, and absurdities, and the picturesqueness of that teeming life,Seyd's subtle intelligence took hold of the primordial feeling under itall. Contributing only an occasional answer to the other's chatter, hebathed in the atmosphere and absorbed the wild medievalism of it whilereviewing in thought the events of the day. The girl and her dog, heruncle the General, Don Sebastien the hacendado--the latter was in hismind when the sudden leaping of a fire at the far end of the patiorevealed his face.

  "Look!" But in the moment Seyd grasped Billy's arm the blaze fell. "Ithought I saw him--that fellow, Sebastien--talking to Carlos, ourmule-driver."

  "Well, why not?" Billy answered. "I gathered that he lives far out. Likeourselves, probably too far to start out to-night."

  "Of course." Seyd nodded. "He just happened to be in my mind. Only whyshould he be in talk with our mule-driver?"

  "Search me." Billy shrugged. "But if he was, it is easy to prove it.There's Carlos now. Call him up here."

  The muleteer, when questioned a minute later, shook his head. "No,senor, Don Sebastien is not here. He rode out at sunset, is now leaguesaway on the trail."

  If he were lying, his brown stolid face gave no sign; and, having givenhim his orders for next day, Seyd returned to his study of the crowd. Hehad forgotten the incident by the time Billy dragged him away to bed.