CHAPTER V
COUNTER REVOLT
The collision staggered both men and gave Mrs. Trent time to reach theside of her guest and to lay a restraining hand upon his arm. Her voicewas tremulous with laughter as she explained:
"It's only a rifle practice. The ranchmen and the children--allchildren in this sport--and always noisy. I'm sorry it disturbedyou, but--Indians! How could you imagine it. Ah! Antonio, good-evening.Have you had supper?"
"No, senora. I need it."
"It is waiting. This visitor, Mr. Hale, Senor Antonio Bernal, themanager of Sobrante."
The gentlemen bowed, one with the brevity of a busy man, the other withthe profound salutation of his race. But they parted immediately, forthe Easterner was anxious to witness the shooting and the superintendentto break his long fast; and with disgust at his own readiness to fancydanger where none existed, Mr. Hale followed the sound of the yells andcheers.
"Hi! hi! for the little one! Hit him again, blue jacket!" shriekedSamson, as, steadying upon a tie-post the rifle he was too small tosupport, Ned sighted the bull's-eye of a distant target, took a carelessaim, yet struck it squarely.
Whereupon the strong ex-sailor thrust the weapon aside and tossed thelad in the air as if he had been a ball. Yet caught him as he lightlydescended, and placed him astride his own shoulders.
"Who'll beat the little master? Three times out o' seven, with an ironheavy as that, how's the showing for an eight-year-old?"
But Ned slipped from the ranchman's back, picked up his own tiny,perfectly finished gun, and swung it over his head.
"Huh! That's nothing! Huh! This the feller! Huh! Guess 'tis. Shotmore'n forty-'leven quails this day 't ever was. Had 'em for mysupper. Had 'em for the man broke his horse's leg and stole Scruff.Hello, Mister! Had your supper? Wasn't them good birds? I shot 'emfor you. I did."
"You?" demanded the gentleman, astonished. He had now joined the groupsurrounding the three children, and his presence caused a lull in theuproar which had preceded his arrival. "You! Why you aren't big enoughto do such a thing."
"I did! I did! I never told a lie in all my life--never, never, never!So, there!" and unable to endure such an imputation, the child rushedupon his traducer and pounded him well with the butt of his little rifle.
"Ned! Edward Trent! Stop! You--a little gentleman--mother's son!"
Jessica's arms were about her brother, restraining his movements andfor a moment making him drop his head in shame. The next he had brokenfrom her grasp, caught up another gun and dragged it toward her.
"Your turn, Jess. Hurry up. There's just an inch of sun left--I meanthere was a minute ago--hurry up! Me an' Luis's got to go to bed quickas a wink! Hurry--hurry!"
"Hurry up!" echoed Luis, with a yawn, and dropping down where he stood,was instantly asleep.
John Benton crossed to the visitor's side and remarked:
"Now, I tell you, stranger, you'll see the sight of your life. If I wasa betting man I'd back Our Lady Jess again' any other girl-shooter onthe globe. You just watch out--if the dark holds off a spell."
There were a dozen, maybe, of the ranchmen standing or lying around ina semi-circle, but now all quiet and intent upon the little girl, as,nodding and smiling upon her guest and her beloved "boys," she steppedinto the open space before them all. "Forty-niner" March, unerringmarksman and the children's instructor, took his place beside her,examined her rifle, handed it to her and also observed to the stranger:
"Now, if nothin' happens, you'll see sunthin'. Sorry it's so dusk,but any gent what doubt's is free to walk up to the target and lookwhere the ball strikes. You, lady, do me proud."
"I'll try," said Jessica, simply. "Is it the little nail in thecenter?"
"Just that."
She sighted and fired; and a ranchman who had run forward to the target,shouted back across the darkening space:
"Hit her plumb!"
A roar of applause greeted this announcement, but the girl accepted thistribute with no comment save another nod and smile, as she waited herteacher's next direction.
This was given silently by a gesture downward.
Instantly Jessica dropped upon the ground, rested herself upon herelbows, aimed, fired, and--"Hit her again! Hooray for Our Lady!Hooray--hooray--hooray!"
In his excitement big Samson seized Mr. Hale by the sleeve and compelledthat gentleman to jog-trot across the open and view at closer range thewonderful skill of the little maid who was so dear to them all.
"Stand aside, Psalm Singer. Your head's in the way!" cautionedsomebody.
Still clutching his companion, Samson obeyed, and they saw Jessica nowlying upon her back, sighting upward and backward over her head a small,white object that had been placed in the target where the tack had been.There was no cheering then, nor any movement among the eager watcherswho fairly held their breaths lest they disturb their darling in thatsupreme moment of her success or failure.
"But she'll not fail!" thought more than one, and would have givena year's wages that she should not.
There was a swift rush of something through the air, so close to Mr.Hale's nose that he visibly drew back, and a double report as the bullethit the toy torpedo which had been the chosen mark.
After that, pandemonium; or so it seemed to Mr. Hale. Those gray andgrizzled men--for there were few young among them--shouted themselveshoarse and gave way to the wildest expressions of pride and delight. Asfor Jessica, the heroine, though her eyes sparkled and a flush rose toher cheeks, she was by far the calmest person present. Even Mr. Hale'sheart was beating rapidly and he caught the girl's hands and shookthem violently, in his congratulations.
"That was marvelous! marvelous! I've seen pretty good sharp-shootingdone by professionals, but never anything so fine as that last shot ofyours. How could you ever learn it, so young as you are?"
"How could I help learning? It is 'Forty-niner's' work, a deal morethan mine. He's been teaching me ever since I could hold a tiny bow andarrow. He's wonderful, if you please; but I----Well, it seems just todo itself, somehow. But I must go in now. Time for the little ones tobe in bed. Come, Ned. Come, Luis. Oh, dear! he's fast asleep."
"I'll pack him for you, lady. And say, boys, isn't this the time?"
Samson had lifted the sleeping Luis, tucked him under one arm andswung Ned to the other, but now paused to glance around among hisfellow-workmen.
"Time was 'moon-up,'" answered Joe, minded to be facetious.
"This would be 'moon-up,' if the old girl knew her business,"retorted the sailor. "In ten minutes we'll be with you. Come, on,my lady. I've a word to say to you and the mistress."
The daily evening sport was over and the ranchmen rapidly dispersed,each to his own quarters, and none considering it his especial businessto entertain the stranger, who was now strolling slowly housewardmindful of the sudden chill which came with the nightfall and of his ownunfitness for exposure.
Proudest of all, "Forty-niner" gathered up the weapons and carriedthem off, to clean and put in order for the next evening's practice.He was well satisfied with his pupil's achievements, though alreadyplanning more difficult feats for their performance. The man was eighty;yet, while his abundant hair was white, his back was still straightand his step firm. The joy of his old age was the athletic trainingof the Sobrante children, and it would have amazed him, even brokenhis heart, had he been told that by such means he did not well earn hiskeep. He was eldest of all the elderly workmen that the late masterof the ranch had gathered about him, and his appreciation of this goodhome in which to end his days perhaps, the greatest of all. It was,therefore, a terrible shock which awaited him, as entering his ownroom, he lighted his lamp and saw lying on his table a white envelopeaddressed to himself.
He knew what it meant. Dismissal.
One year before, when Cassius Trent died, there had been twenty employeeswhere there were now but thirteen--he the "odd one" of the "baker'sdozen." Seven times, when least expected or desired, some one of thesetwenty had found in his roo
m just such an envelope, containing hisarrears of wages, and the curt information that, "by the order of Mrs.Trent, his services were no longer required at Sobrante, nor would anywages be forthcoming from that day forward."
These men had all been friends, rather than servants, and in eachcase the result had been the same. Cut to the heart by the manner ofdischarge, and, for the first time it may be, realizing that he was nolonger young, and, therefore, valuable, the recipient of the envelope hadquietly disappeared, saying farewell to nobody.
"My turn! My turn, at last!" broke from the aged frontiersman's lips,and a groan followed. "Ten years I've lived in this old adobe cell tillI've come to feel like the monk for whom it was first built. Now----"
The white head drooped forward on the outstretched arms and all theburden of his eighty years seemed suddenly to have descended upon thatbowed and shrunken figure.
In the pretty dining-room Antonio Bernal had eaten a hearty supperserved by his own mistress, since Wun Lung was not to be found and thehouse-boy, Pasqual, claimed his usual recreation hour at the riflepractice. But neither thought anything amiss in this, and the managerwould, indeed, have asserted that it was quite the proper thing. Wasnot he a Bernal, and superior to all at Sobrante? Even though he was,for the time being, receiving wage instead of bestowing. Well, it was along lane that had no turning.
Pushing back from the table, Antonio had murmured the proverb in Spanish,with a smile of satisfaction lighting his dark face, and Mrs. Trent hadfailed to hear distinctly, though she was familiar enough with thelanguage so often in use about her.
"Beg pardon, I did not understand."
"Begging pardon, one's self, senora, it is seldom that you do. It isthe business was never made for the small brains of the women, no? 'Tisthe senora's place to be beautiful and let the business rest in thecapable hands of I, myself. _En verdad._"
Mrs. Trent colored and bit her lip. This man's insolence was becominginsupportable, and she could scarcely recognize him for the obsequiousfellow who had been her husband's right-hand dependence. His briefauthority had turned his head, she reflected, and, again, that she mustin no wise offend him. The welfare of her children demanded this, andforcing herself to smile as pleasantly as if his insult were a jest,she remarked:
"The gentleman whom you met, as you came in, is a lawyer. A New Yorklawyer. I--I would like to consult him about our--this business youmention. I was born and reared in New York and have a feeling thatanything which comes from there must be all right. Even a lawyer, thoughI'm not fond of the profession usually.
"The senor is not wont to waste so many words upon her most humbleservant, no. And as for the lawyers, have I not this day been to theconsulting of the most eminent, the wisest of his kind, no? But yes; andthe truth is, senora--believe me, it breaks my heart so to inform you,but this barren rancho of Sobrante belongs not to the Dona Gabriella andher children, but to one Antonio Bernal, even I, myself."
"To you! Belongs--to--you?" gasped the astonished woman.
The manager shrugged his shoulders and tossed another Spanish proverbtoward her: "What I have said, I have said."
Mrs. Trent felt her strength leaving her and sank into a chair, stillgazing incredulously at the other, who now lounged back in his ownchair and began to leisurely pick his teeth. It was a trivial action,but one wholly disgusting to the gentlewoman's fastidious sense, andit angered her, which was a good thing, for her anger banished hermomentary faintness and gave her boldness to demand:
"The proof!"
"It will be forthcoming, senora, at the right time. Yes. Meanwhile, Iam content you shall remain, you and your little ones, until--well, say amonth. By that date all things should have been arranged and the senorawill have found herself another home less lonely than Sobrante. One sobeautiful as the Dona Gabriella must have hosts of friends who----"
Senor Bernal paused. There were footsteps approaching, and the merryvoices of children, and an instant later Samson was in the room,still carrying the little lads in his arms, and with Jessica clingingaffectionately to his ragged sleeve.
One glance showed the faithful ranchman that something was amiss. Therewas fresh sorrow, even consternation, in the beloved face of Sobrante'smistress, fresh insolence in that of her chief assistant. He was not oneto hesitate when his friends were in trouble, and turned to Antoniowith an angry demand:
"What have you been worrying your betters with now, senor?"
"Keep a civil tongue in your head, rascal."
"Returnin' the compliment, if you please. All the same, don't youknow that a man--_a man_--doesn't go around worrying women as you worryMrs. Trent? You, that hadn't a shirt to your back when the boss tookyou in and made you what you are! I'm anticipatin' a mite, and I don'tknow just how some of the boys'll take it, but we'd laid out thisvery night at moon-up--if there'd been a moon sensible enough to getup, which there isn't--to haul you and a few other matters over thecoals and stir up a fresh sort of blaze. Now, I warn you, just you letmatters slide, peaceable, and you--just you, yourself, keep that civiltongue you recommend, or you'll light out of here so quick ye won'tsee your heels for dust, dry season though it is. Hear?"
"Hear? Yes, I hear. Now, 'tis your turn. You go tell those malcontentsyou call 'the boys' to take their packs and foot it. Times havechanged. Things have changed. There's another master here now, andnot a weak-willed mistress. That is me--I--Antonio Bernal, owner ofSobrante rancho and all that appertains thereto. Now, go. Vamos. Depart.Clear out. Get!"
Samson went--as far as the long, open window, and stepped out upon theporch. He did not see Mr. Hale, who had seated himself in a rocker,an unintentional witness of a scene he would gladly have missed, andputting a whistle to his lips blew a summons which was understood byevery fellow-workman on the ranch. Then he quietly re-entered the house,folded his arms, and leaned carelessly against the door frame.
Senor Bernal started up as if he would forcibly eject the herder, butthought better of this and sank back nonchalantly in his great chair.Jessica had placed herself behind her mother, and clasped Mrs. Trent'sshoulders with the protecting tenderness habitual to her. Ned had sprungto his mother's lap and Luis continued his nap at her feet; while allseemed waiting for some fresh development of the affair.
This came and speedily; for, in answer to Samson's whistle, there filedover the porch and into the room, Joe, the smith; Marty, the gardener;and Carpenter John. There was missing old "Forty-niner," commonly thedominant fifth of this odd quintet, but nobody wondered much at that.Doubtless he was polishing his darling's rifle and making ready for someastonishing display of her skill wherewith to dazzle the stranger uponthe morrow. In any case he rarely disagreed with the opinions of hiscronies and was sure to be one with them in the matter of that hour.
With a respectful salute to Mrs. Trent, a grin toward the children, anda scowl for Antonio, these stalwart ranchmen lined up against the walland stood at attention. Mr. Hale, observant through the doorway, againnoticed that each of these was well along in years, that each had someslight physical infirmity, and that, despite these facts, each lookeda man of unusual strength and most entire devotion. Indeed, the gazefixed upon the little lady, was one of adoration, and the situationboded ill for anybody who meant harm to her.
"Ahem. What say, mates? Has the hour struck?"
"The hour has struck," answered John Benton, solemnly, shifting hisweight from his lame leg to his sound one.
Samson strode a mighty step forward and pulled his forelock.
"Then I state, madam, that we here, on behalf of ourselves and ourwhole crew, now, and hereby do, throw off all 'legiance to that thereSpanish skunk, a-settin' in your easiest chair, and appoint Our LadyJess, captain of the good ship Sobrante. Allowin' you to be the admiralof that same, madam, but takin' no more orders from anybody save andexcepting her--under you, of course--from this time forth, so help us."
Then there burst from the trio of throats a cheer that shook the windows,and called a contemptuous laugh from the superintend
ent so valiantlydefied.
The cheer died in an ominous silence which Senor Bernal improved.
"Highly dramatic and most edifying, _en verdad._ Senor, I kiss yourhands in even greater devotion. But the play has one little drawback.To I, me, myself, belongs Sobrante. Already I have had the law of whichyou spoke. My claim I have proved. From the long back generations thegood title from the Mission Padres to my own fathers, yes. Sobrante?_Si._ More and better. Wide lies the valley of Paraiso d'Oro. Mine,Mine. All--all mine. No?"
He rose to his feet and pompously paced up and down the room, insolentlyhandsome and proud of the fact, while out on the darkened porch Mr. Halehad heard a word which set his own pulses beating faster and the row ofranchmen started forward as if minded to throw the braggart out of thehouse.
But Jessica stepped forth and cried, triumphantly, though still with aneffort toward that courtesy she desired.
"Beg pardon, Senor Antonio Bernal, but surely you are quite mistaken. Myfather taught me some things. He said I was not too young to learnthem. He--he only--has the title deed to dear Sobrante, and I--Ionly--know the safe place where it is kept!"
Antonio halted in his strutting march and for a moment his face grewpale. The next instant he had regained more than his former confidence,and with a sneering laugh, exclaimed:
"Seeing is believing, no? To the satisfaction of the assembled mosthonorable company," here he bowed with mock politeness, "let this mostinteresting document be produced. _Si._"
Jessica flew from the room and in an intolerable anxiety the whole"honorable company" awaited her long-delayed return.
Jessica Trent: Her Life on a Ranch Page 5