“It is right here, Señor. Ah yes, here it is!”
He handed me a handwritten copy of the wire he’d taken down.
“It’s in Spanish, Señor. Would you like my assistance? There is only a small charge.”
“That’s all right,” I said. “I can make it out.” I walked over in the corner and sat down and went to working out what Les had to say. It was addressed to me as John Wilson and he’d signed it with his straight name except he only used Les. It said the reason he’d been late in answering my wire was that he’d had to lay out in the country, town being so hot of late. Then it said: BEST YOU STAY INLAND AS THE BORDER IS NO PLACE FOR A WHITE MAN RIGHT NOW.
It was easy enough to figure out. There was some kind of Texas law scouting around and he’d been laying low. He was letting me know that they were looking for me and that I ought not to come anywhere near the border. I wondered how he’d been able to pick up my telegram. Probably some friend of his had brought it to him. It was likely he’d know quite a few people in Nuevo Laredo, as we’d spent considerable time around there.
I went back over and told the operator to take a return telegram. In it I told Les I was heading down to Sabinas Hidalgo and that I wanted him to come down and join me. I said he could take the train and be there in one day. I asked for a return wire care of me at the telegraph office in Sabinas.
“Is that all, Señor?”
“That’s all.”
“Twelve pesos. That includes the translation, you understand.”
“All right,” I said. I paid him and went out and mounted and rode back to the cantina I’d been staying at. I figured to spend the night and then head for Sabinas the next morning on horseback. I was going to be real curious to see if any of Manuel’s bunch would come into the cantina that night. Manuel sure as hell wouldn’t—that is, unless he could navigate with a big hole in his chest.
But they never showed. I reckoned they’d make themselves scarce in the area, as the federals would be after them. I wished they’d catch them too, for all the trouble they’d caused me. First they’d eased off just long enough for Linda to get sent back home, causing me to miss her in Villa Guerro, then they’d started back up just in time to keep me from getting down to Sabinas Hidalgo. At supper I reflected that, if it hadn’t been for the bandits, I’d be sitting in Sabinas at the very moment. It was going to be a long ride, a little over a hundred miles, and I intended on taking it easy. I made arrangements with the cantina cook to have two days’ provisions put up for me. She said she’d lay me in some dried beef and cheese and beans and bread and have it ready for me the next morning. I figured to pull out early. I could make it in two days, but I wasn’t going to try. Three days would be soon enough.
Sabinas Hidalgo was one of the prettiest towns I’d ever seen. After the long ride I pulled up on a little hill and looked at it down in the valley. All the buildings were whitewashed and the streets were straight and clear of the goats and chickens you see in most Mexican towns. It appeared to be a little bigger than Rodriguez. I let my mare go down the incline and then rode into the town. It was late afternoon and I stopped and inquired of a muchacho where a hotel was.
“Mirador, Señor,” he said. “First-class.”
I figured I might as well go first-class for a change. Besides, I wanted to put on a good appearance. I found the hotel and went in and took a room. The lobby was big and well appointed with a lot of chairs and tables sitting around. It was a first-class place all right. I asked about a bath and the clerk said it could be arranged. I booked one for the next morning. I also intended on getting my hair cut.
The hotel had a dining room and I took supper with them. There was a crop of Mexican gentlemen in the place, well dressed in suits and good boots. The whole town had a very prosperous air about it and I reflected, if I was still in the bank-robbing business, the bank of Sabinas might just deserve some attention. But, of course, I was all done with that.
After supper I sat out in the lobby until I was able to strike up a casual conversation with the clerk. I told him I was looking for a Senor De Cava, who, I understood, had a ranch in the area.
“Ah yes, Senor De Cava! Perhaps you are interested in buying some of his fine horses.”
“I might be,” I said. “If I can find the place.”
“Seguro. It’s very easy. The rancho of Don De Cava lies to the west of town some four miles. It is the easiest thing to find.”
I questioned him some more, getting exact directions, and finding out all I could about the family. I hadn’t as yet figured out what my dodge was going to be, but I knew I’d think of something.
I was turning away when he said, “However, you might find the family on the town square a little later. They have several daughters of eligible age and it has been their habit to escort them in for the promenade. I am not sure the don himself will be there, however.”
“Yeah,” I said. I’d forgotten it was Sunday. “Yeah, thanks,” I said.
In Mexico, eligible young ladies of good families aren’t allowed to mix and circulate like they do in the States. They’re kept at home and watched pretty closely by their duenna or their parents. But on Sundays, in good weather, they all get dressed up in their finest and come into town and promenade around the square looking the young bucks over and giving the young bucks a chance to look them over. The whole thing is handled on pretty strict tradition. The girls go one way, walking with their chaperone, and the boys come the other, walking on the outside of the square. It’s all right for the boys to give the girls a round staring at, but the girls are supposed to keep their eyes down and look neither to the right nor the left. Of course that’s not the way it works out. If a girl spots a young blood she particularly favors she’ll get a look at him and he’ll come up and formally present himself to the girl’s chaperone and then they’ll all go sit on one of the benches that are in the center of the square.
It was still a little early for the affair to start, so I went to my room and washed as best I could, even though I didn’t plan to speak to Senor De Cava or Linda, even if they were there. I was still pretty dusty and travel-worn and I figured to get myself fixed up before making a formal call.
I left the hotel and went over to the telegraph office to see if I’d had a wire. Nothing had come. It didn’t worry me too much since I figured Les would have to step around kind of lightly for a time. But I did wish to hear from him and see if he was coming down. It kind of bothered me him being up around all that law. I knew he felt I was the one that was well-known and that they wouldn’t recognize him, but I didn’t exactly agree. We were all pretty well-known in Nuevo Laredo and, if there was law around, somebody was almost certain to slip up to one of them and tip them that Les had been riding with me. I doubted he’d come through. He had it fixed in his mind that he had to get into Texas and tell Tod’s daddy what had happened and, until he got that done, he wouldn’t come inland. It was just the way he was.
I told the telegraph operator where I was staying and asked him to send a boy over if anything came for me. I give him a couple of pesos and he assured me he would.
I wandered down toward the middle of town. It was just coming evening and the sun was low enough to cool things off a bit. I found it very pleasant. I stopped in at a little open-front café and had a beer. It was very fresh and cool and I sat at a table where I could see the street and watched the people pass. Some were headed for six-o’clock mass, but most were just out sporting around, taking the evening air. Now and then a carriage would pass with a young lady all done up in a white dress sitting by an elderly lady that was her chaperone. The chaperone would nearly always be holding a black umbrella and looking straight ahead, but the young girls, you could see, could hardly hold themselves down. Naturally they’d been told to behave, but you could see they was already starting to get excited about the promenade. It made me smile a little.
I had another beer and then went off toward the square. The promenade was already in full process
ion and I got me a station near one corner and leaned back up against a building to watch. I was only about twelve or fifteen feet away and I could see good. The young ladies, near all of them in a white dress, walked along very proudly, their heads thrown back and their busts thrown forward. Some of them had borrowed umbrellas from their duennas so they’d have something to do with their hands and they carried them closed, leaning them over their shoulders like a soldier carries a rifle. They made a pretty sight. I reckoned their ages to run all the way from thirteen or fourteen to up in the early twenties. The young bucks had gotten themselves up in their best also. They come along, walking in twos and threes, with their hands behind their backs. I reckoned they figured it made them look older and more dignified. And did they stare! It wasn’t nothing for one to stop and just stand dead, staring right at a girl as she came on and not moving until she was past.
But I still hadn’t seen Linda. I got out a little cigar and lit it, looking across the square to where I’d seen a carriage pull up. There appeared to be five females in it, three young ones in white and two elderly ladies. They got out and then one of the elderly señoras went and sat in the center of the square while the other four fell into the procession. They walked two by two, the elderly one back with one of the young girls. They walked down the opposite of the square and then turned the corner and come right at me. I was across the street, but I could see them clearly. Linda was in the first row nearest me. The girl to her right was younger and nowhere near as pretty and the one back with the chaperone was just a kid, maybe fifteen years old. They got nearer and nearer until they were right opposite me and the sight of Linda was almost more than I could bear. She was every bit as pretty as I’d remembered her. She was wearing a kind of rose-colored dress and she had a long, lacy mantilla falling from the comb in her hair. She walked proudly, staring straight ahead, not doing like her sisters, who were giggling and cutting looks at the boys. I just yearned to touch her, to put my hands on her tiny waist and then run them down her swelling hips. The bodice of her dress was cut down a little and you could see where her breasts started. I would have give a hundred dollars to run across the street and grab her and kiss her right where those soft breasts came rising out of her dress.
But naturally I just stayed pinned back against the wall I was leaning against. As far as I could tell there hadn’t been a man in the carriage except for the driver, who didn’t look like any patron. I figured her daddy must not have come in or else he’d gotten out somewhere else and gone to drink and talk business with his friends.
It made me feel queer, standing there hid out so to speak, and watching the girl I’d been dreaming about ever since I’d seen her for that brief moment. It was such a different thing for me to be doing. I’ve had women all my life, but never paid particular attention to them. And they weren’t all saloon girls either. Some of them were right pretty town girls who I’d met and some of them came from good families. But it hadn’t mattered. Once I was through with them and ready to pull out, I’d ridden away without another thought. But then had come this girl and I couldn’t figure it. I didn’t know if it was just her, or because I was getting old, or because I wanted to become respectable or just what. All I knew was that she hadn’t been out of my mind for fifteen minutes ever since I’d seen her. I didn’t know what that amounted to, whether there was a name for it or not, but I did know it was hurting me in a funny kind of way to stand over in the shadows and watch her walk past.
I smoked another cigar and watched her go around a number of times. She never give the young bucks so much as a glance even though she was about the main attraction in the whole parade. Every time she’d pass a bunch all the boys would sweep off their hats and give her a low bow. But she never paid them the slightest bit of notice, just walked on by like they weren’t even there. She had class all right, class enough and some to spare.
Finally I couldn’t stand it any longer. I put out my cigar and went back to my hotel. It was still early, but I was tired from the ride in. I bought a bottle of rum in the hotel saloon and then went up to my room. For a good while I sat on the side of my bed and drank the rum straight out of the bottle. I wasn’t thinking about anything particular, just staring at the wall and reflecting. On the ride down from Rodriguez it had come to me that I was going to be twenty-nine in a few days. That’s near half a man’s life. I didn’t think too much about it, but I did contemplate what a mess I’d made out of things. Rum is like that. It’s a fiery drink that will hit you quick, but you drink enough and it’ll make you go to reflecting on things you generally don’t think about. After a while I put the bottle on the bedside table and turned in. The rum was better than half gone.
First thing next morning I went out and bought the best pair of breeches I could find. Had to give near six dollars for them. After that I had my boots blacked. I’d had it done in Rodriguez, but I just decided to do it again. I was due back at the hotel to take my bath at ten, but I went to the barber first and had a shave and a haircut. The barber was a good one and he trimmed me up real nice and then put some kind of sweet-smelling tonic on my hair.
They had my bath ready for me when I got back to the hotel. They’d brought a hell of a big tub into my room and I got in it and then they run in a regular bucket brigade of boys carrying hot water. It was mighty pleasant to just lay back and soak in that hot, soapy water. It was the best bath I’d had in many a year. Cost me seventy-five cents, but I figured it was worth it.
I didn’t want to go to De Cava ranch until afternoon, so I had lunch and then went down to see about my filly. She was doing all right, but I told the stableman that I wanted her brushed and curried and I wanted my saddle and rigging cleaned up and oiled.
I hung around the hotel for a while and then went over to the telegraph office and checked to see if anything had come in. I’d told them where to find me, but you can’t really trust some of them Mexicans too much. Nothing had come from Les. I went back over to the hotel and sat around the lobby for a while longer. Finally I couldn’t stall any longer and I knew I was going to have to go if I ever was. I had good directions from the clerk and I went over and got my filly and rode out.
It was only four miles, but it seemed like two. Before I knew it I was at the ranch and going through the gate portico and riding up to the house. I got down and helloed and a peon come out and took my bridle and asked after my business. I’d give considerable thought to it and decided I’d try to hit somewhere near the truth. I told him I was just come from Villa Guerro and that I brought greetings from the patron’s brother, the Don Fernando.
While the peon was inside I had a look around at things. The De Cava house, if anything, was grander than Don Fernando’s. It was white adobe with a red tile roof and seemed as big as a church. There was one main breezeway right through the center of the house, but I could see others opening along the sides. The grounds were well-kept and there was some twenty or thirty outbuildings. A piece to the west of the house I could see a big bunch of corrals with a lot of horses in them. From what I’d gathered from the room clerk and the patron of the Fernando ranch the Don De Cava was in the horse-breeding business in a bigger way than his brother.
After a good wait the peon came out and said the don would receive me. He led me down a hall and then into a big sitting room that was whitewashed and had a hell of a big chandelier hanging from a beamed ceiling. They were all set up to receive me. Either I’d made a bigger impression on the peon than I’d expected or they thought I was bringing money, for the entire family was ranged out in a semicircle of chairs when I came in. It took me back for just a second, but I got my hat off just as the don got up to greet me. He was a number of years younger than his brother and he came forward and we shook hands.
“Con mucho gusto, Senor Young. You do honor to our house.”
“It is my honor,” I said. “I’ve just come from staying overnight with your brother, the patron of the Fernando ranch, and he commended me to your hospitality and aske
d that I bear his greetings.”
I was speaking better Spanish than I thought I knew. It’s amazing what a man can do when he has to.
“My brother was well when you left him?”
“Very well,” I said. “He had a slight malady in the hip, but he expected it to go away shortly.”
“Ah yes, his hip,” Senor De Cava said. “An old injury from a fall.”
Senor De Cava was a tall, slimly built man with a big mustache and glossy, slicked-back hair. He was wearing good clothes—linen pants and a leather jerkin coat with a brocaded vest underneath. You could see he’d been raised to quality. After we finished our greeting he led me down the line of his family, introducing me to each one. Besides his wife there was three girls and two boys. The first girl in line after the mother was Linda. I had been conscious of her all the time I was talking to the don. She was sitting in a low-backed chair covered with some kind of blue velvet material. As I was greeting the patroness I could feel her looking at me from the side. When I swung around, as the don directed me down the line, she was staring full at me. There was a look in her eyes that told me she knew me and that, perhaps, I might occasionally have passed her mind since we’d met last.
“My daughter,” the patron said. “Linda Marquezza de la Pina De Cava.”
I bowed low. “Your daughter and I have already met,” I said. “I had the privilege at an earlier visit at your brother’s house.”
“Ah!” the don said. “You and my brother have been thick together.”
I shrugged, still looking at Linda. “We are both lovers of good horse flesh,” I said.
His eyes lit up. “Ah! You are a horse breeder?”
“Not really,” I said. “I’ve been in the cattle business for a time, but now I’m thinking of locating in Mexico.”
“Ah!” he said. I could see he wanted to talk more about it, but I turned my full attention to Linda. She hadn’t taken her eyes off me.
The Bank Robber Page 20