by Rex Beach
VI
A JOURNEY, AND A DARK MAN
Alaire's preparations for the journey to La Feria were made with littledelay. Owing to the condition of affairs across the border, Ellsworthhad thought it well to provide her with letters from the mostinfluential Mexicans in the neighborhood; what is more, in order topave her way toward a settlement of her claim he succeeded in getting atelegram through to Mexico City--no mean achievement, with most of thewires in Rebel hands and the remainder burdened with military business.But Ellsworth's influence was not bounded by the Rio Grande.
It was his advice that Alaire present her side of the case to the localmilitary authorities before making formal representation to Washington,though in neither case was he sanguine of the outcome.
The United States, indeed, had abetted the Rebel cause from the start.Its embargo on arms had been little more than a pretense of neutrality,which had fooled the Federals not at all, and it was an open secretthat financial assistance to the uprising was rendered from somemysterious Northern source. The very presence of American troops alongthe border was construed by Mexicans as a threat against PresidentPotosi, and an encouragement to revolt, while the talk of intervention,invasion, and war had intensified the natural antagonism existingbetween the two peoples. So it was that Ellsworth, while he did hisbest to see to it that his client should make the journey in safety andreceive courteous treatment, doubted the wisdom of the undertaking andhoped for no practical result.
Alaire took Dolores with her, and for male escort she selected, aftersome deliberation, Jose Sanchez, her horse-breaker. Jose was not anideal choice, but since Benito could not well be spared, no better manwas available. Sanchez had some force and initiative, at least, andAlaire had no reason to doubt his loyalty.
The party went to Pueblo by motor--an unpleasant trip, for the roadfollowed the river and ran through a lonesome country, unpeopled savefor an occasional goat-herd and his family, or a glaring-hot village ofsome half-dozen cubical houses crouching on the river-bank as ifcrowded over from Mexican soil. This road remained much as the firstox-carts had laid it out; the hills were gashed by arroyos, some ofwhich were difficult to negotiate, and in consequence the journey was,from an automobilist's point of view, decidedly slow. The first nightthe travelers were forced to spend at a mud jacal, encircled, like someAfrican jungle dwelling, by a thick brush barricade.
Jose Sanchez was in his element here. He posed, he strutted, hebragged, he strove to impress his countrymen by every device. Jose was,indeed, rather a handsome fellow, with a bold insolence of bearing thatmarked him as superior to the common pelador, and, having dressedhimself elaborately for this journey, he made the most of hisopportunities for showing off. Nothing would do him but a baile, and abaile he had. Once the arrangements were made, other Mexicans appearedmysteriously until there were nearly a score, and until late into thenight they danced upon the hard-packed earth of the yard. Alaire fellasleep to the sounds of feet scuffling and scraping in time to a wheezyviolin.
Arriving at Pueblo on the following day, Alaire secured her passportsfrom the Federal headquarters across the Rio Grande, while Joseattended to the railroad tickets. On the second morning after leavinghome the party was borne southward into Mexico.
Although train schedules were uncertain, the railroad journey itselfwas similar to many Alaire had taken, except for occasional evidencesof the war. The revolution had ravaged most of northern Mexico; longrows of rusting trucks and twisted car skeletons beside the trackshowed how the railway's rolling-stock had suffered in this particularvicinity; and as the train penetrated farther south temporary trestlesand the charred ruins of station-houses spoke even more eloquently ofthe struggle. Now and then a steel water-tank, pierced with loop-holesand ripped by cannon balls, showed where some detachment had made astand. There was a military guard on the train, too--a dozen unkemptsoldiers loaded down with rifles and bandoliers of cartridges, andseveral officers, neatly dressed in khaki, who rode in the first-classcoach and occupied themselves by making eyes at the women.
At its frequent stops the train was besieged by the customary crowd ofcurious peons; the same noisy hucksters dealt out enchiladas,tortillas, goat cheeses, and coffee from the same dirty baskets andpails; even their outstretched hands seemed to bear the familiar grimeof ante-bellum days. The coaches were crowded; women fanned themselvesunceasingly; their men snored, open-mouthed, over the backs of theseats, and the aisles were full of squalling, squabbling children.
As for the country itself, it was dying. The ranches were stripped ofstock, no carts creaked along the highways, and the roads, like thelittle farms, were growing up to weeds. Stores were empty, the peoplewere idle. Over all was an atmosphere of decay, and, what was far moresignificant, the people seemed content.
All morning the monotonous journey continued--a trial to Alaire andDolores, but to Jose Sanchez a red-letter experience. He covered thetrain from end to end, making himself acquainted with every one andbringing to Alaire the gossip that he picked up.
It was not until midday that the first interruption occurred; then thetrain pulled in upon a siding, and after an interminable delay ittranspired that a north-bound troop-train was expected.
Jose brought this intelligence: "Soon you will behold the flower of theMexican army," he told Alaire. "You will see thousands of Longorio'sveterans, every man of them a very devil for blood. They are returningto Nuevo Pueblo after destroying a band of those rebels. They had agreat victory at San Pedro--thirty kilometers from La Feria. Not aprisoner was spared, senora."
"Is General Longorio with them?" Alaire inquired, quickly.
"That is what I came to tell you. It is believed that he is, for hetakes his army with him wherever he goes. He is a great fighter; he hasa nose for it, that man, and he strikes like the lightning--here,there, anywhere." Jose, it seemed, was a rabid Potosista.
But Dolores held opposite sympathies. She uttered a disdainful sniff."To be sure he takes his army with him, otherwise theConstitutionalistas would kill him. Wait until Pancho Gomez meets thisarmy of Longorio's. Ha! You will see some fighting."
Jose blew two fierce columns of cigarette smoke from his nostrils."Longorio is a gentleman; he scorns to use the tricks of that bandit.Pancho Gomez fights like a savage. Think of the cowardly manner inwhich he captured Espinal the last time. What did he do then? I'll tellyou. He laid in wait and allowed a train-load of our troops to passthrough his lines toward Chihuahua; then he took possession of thetelegraph wires and pretended to be the Federal commander. He sent alying message back to Espinal that the railway tracks were torn up andhe could not reach Chihuahua, and so, of course, he was ordered toreturn. That was bad enough, but he loaded his bandits upon othertrains--he locked them into freight-cars like cattle so that not a headcould be seen--and the devil himself would never have guessed what wasin those cars. Of course he succeeded. No one suspected the truth untilhis infamous army was in Espinal. Then it was too late. The carnage wasterrible. But do you call that a nice action? It was nothing but thelowest deceit. It was enough to make our soldiers furious."
Dolores giggled. "They say he went to his officers and told them:'Compadres, we are now going into Espinal. I will meet you at thePlaza, and I will shoot the last man who arrives there.' Dios! Thereensued a foot-race."
"It is well for him to train his men how to run fast," said Jose,frowning sternly, "for some day they will meet Luis Longorio, andthen--you will see some of the swiftest running in all the world."
"Yes! Truly!" Dolores was trembling with excitement, her voice wasshrill. "God will need to lend them speed to catch this army ofLongorio's. Otherwise no human legs could accomplish it."
"Bah! Who can argue with a woman?" sneered Jose.
Alaire, who had listened smilingly, now intervened to avert a seriousquarrel.
"When the train arrives," she told her horse-breaker, "I want you tofind General Longorio and ask him to come here."
"But, senora!" Jose was dumfounded, shocked. "He is a gre
at general--"
"Give him this note." Quickly writing a few lines on a page from hernote-book, she gave him the scrap of paper, which he carefully placedin his hat; then, shaking his head doubtfully, he left the car.
Flushed with triumph, Dolores took the first occasion to enlarge uponher theme.
"You will see what a monster this Longorio is," she declared. "It waslike him to steal your beautiful cattle; he would steal a crucifix.Once there was a fine ranch owned by a man who had two lovelydaughters--girls of great respectability and refinement. But the manwas a Candelerista. Longorio killed him--he and his men killedeverybody on the hacienda except the daughters, and those he captured.He took them with him, and for no good purpose, either, as you canimagine. Naturally the poor creatures were nearly dead with fright, butas they rode along the elder one began talking with Longorio'ssoldiers. She made friends with them. She pretended to care nothingabout her fate; she behaved like a lost person, and the soldierslaughed. They liked her spirit, God pity them! Finally she declared shewas a famous shot with a pistol, and she continued to boast until oneof her guards gave her his weapon with which to show her skill. Thenwhat? Before they could hinder her she turned in her saddle and shother younger sister through the brain. Herself she destroyed with abullet in her breast. Every word is the sacred truth, senora.Longorio's soul is stained with the blood of those two innocents."
"I've heard many stories like that, from both sides," Alaire said,gravely.
In the course of time the military train came creaking along on themain track and stopped, to the great interest of the southboundtravelers. It was made up of many stock cars crowded with cavalryhorses. Each animal bore its equipment of saddle and bridle, and pennedin with them were the women and the children. The soldiers themselveswere clustered thickly upon the car roofs. Far down at the rear of thetrain was a rickety passenger-coach, and toward this Jose Sanchez madehis way.
There began a noisy interchange of greetings between the occupants ofthe two trains, and meanwhile the hot sun glared balefully upon thehuddled figures on the car tops. A half-hour passed, then occurred acommotion at the forward end of Alaire's coach.
A group of officers climbed aboard, and among them was one who could benone other than Luis Longorio. As he came down the passageway Alaireidentified him without the aid of his insignia, for he stood head andshoulders above his companions and bore himself with an air ofauthority. He was unusually tall, at least six feet three, and veryslim, very lithe; he was alert, keen; he was like the blade of arapier. The leanness of his legs was accentuated by his stiff, starchedriding-breeches and close-fitting pigskin puttees, while his face,apart from all else, would have challenged prompt attention.
Longorio was a young man; his cheeks were girlishly smooth and of aclear, pale, olive tint, which sun and weather apparently werepowerless to darken; his eyes were large, bold, and brilliant; hisnostrils thin and sensitive, like those of a blooded horse. He seemedalmost immature until he spoke, then one realized with a curious shockthat he was a man indeed, and a man, moreover, with all the ardor andpassion of a woman. Such was Alaire's first hasty impression of LuisLongorio, the Tarleton of Potosi's army.
Disdain, hauteur, impatience, were stamped upon the general'scountenance as he pushed briskly through the crowd, turning his headfrom side to side in search of the woman who had summoned him.
Not until she rose did he discover Alaire; then he halted; his eyesfixed themselves upon her with a stare of startled amazement.
Alaire felt herself color faintly, for the man seemed to be scanningher from head to foot, taking in every detail of her face and form, andas he did so his expression remained unaltered. For what seemed a fullminute Longorio stood rooted; then the stiff-vizored cap was swept fromhis head; he bowed with the grace of a courtier until Alaire saw thepart in his oily black hair.
"Senora! A thousand apologies for my delay," he said. "Caramba! I didnot dream--I did not understand your message." He continued to regardher with that same queer intensity.
"You are General Longorio?" Alaire was surprised to note that her voicequavered uncertainly, and annoyed to feel her face still flushing.
"Your obedient servant."
With a gesture Mrs. Austin directed Dolores to vacate her seat, andinvited the General to take it. But Longorio checked the maid'smovement; then with a brusque command he routed out the occupants ofthe seat ahead, and, reversing the back, took a position facing Alaire.Another order, and the men who had accompanied him withdrew up theaisle. His luminous eyes returned once more to the woman, and there wasno mistaking his admiration. He seemed enchanted by her pale beauty,her rich, red hair held him fascinated, and with Latin boldness he madehis feelings crassly manifest.