Heart of the Sunset
Page 9
IX
A SCOUTING TRIP
"What ails you?" Law inquired as he and Blaze rolled away in thebuckboard.
"Serves me right for leaving my six-shooter at home," panted therancher. "Well, I might have known they'd find me some day."
"'They'? Who?"
"That hombre and his wife--the woman with the mustache. They sworethey'd get me, and it looks like they will, for I daresn't raise myhand to protect myself."
This was very mystifying to Dave, and he said so.
"The woman'll recognize me, quick enough," Blaze asserted, and then,"God knows what Paloma will do."
"Really! Is it that bad?"
"It's a vile story, Dave, and I never expected to tell anybody; butit's bound to come out on me now, so you better hear my side. Lastsummer I attended a convention at Galveston, and one hot day I decidedto take a swim, so I hired a suit and a room to cache my six-shooterin. It was foolish proceedings for a man my age, but the beach wasblack with people and I wasn't altogether myself. You see, we'd had anopen poker game running in my room for three days, and I hadn't got anysleep. I was plumb feverish, and needed a dip. Well, I'm no water-dog,Dave; I can't swim no better than a tarrapin with its legs cut off, butI sloshed around some in the surf, and then I took a walk to dreen offand see the sights. It was right interesting when I got so I could tellthe women from the men--you see I'd left my glasses in the bath-house.
"Now I'd sort of upheld the general intemperance of that poker game forthree days and nights--but I don't offer my condition as an excuse forwhat follows. No gentleman ought to lay his indecencies onto JohnBarley corn when they're nothing more nor less than the outcroppin's ofhis own orneriness. Liquor has got enough to answer for without beingblamed for human depravities. I dare say I was friendlier than I hadany right to be; I spoke to strangers, and some of the girls holleredat me, but I wouldn't have harmed a soul.
"Well, in the course of my promenade I came to a couple of fellerssetting half-buried in the sand, and just as I was passing one of themgot up--sort of on all-fours and--er--facing away from me--sabe? That'swhere the trouble hatched. I reached out and, with nothing butgood-will in my heart, I--sort of pinched this party-sort of on thehip, or thereabouts. I didn't mean a thing by it, Dave. I just walkedon, smiling, till something run into me from behind. When I got up andsquared around, there was that man we just left cutting didos out ofblack paper.
"'What d'you mean by pinching my wife?' he says, and he was r'arin' mad.
"'Your WIFE?' I stammers, and with that he climbs me. Dave, I was weakwith shame and surprise, and all I could do was hold him off. Sureenough, the man I'd pinched was a long, ga'nt woman with a little blackmustache, and here she came!
"We started in right there. I never saw such a poisonous person as thatwoman. She was coiled, her head was up, and her rattles agoing, and soI finally lit out But I'm sort of fat, and they over-ran me. They bayedme against the sea-wall, and all I had the heart to do was to hold 'emoff some more. Soon as I got my wind I shook 'em off a second time andrun some more, but they downed me. By that time we'd begun to gatherquite a crowd. ...
"Dave, was you ever treed by wild hogs? That's how them two people keptafter me. You'd have thought I'd deprived 'em of their young. I didn'twant to hurt 'em, but whenever I'd run they'd tangle my legs. By and byI got so short of breath that I couldn't run, so I fell on top of theman. But the woman got me by the legs and rolled me under. I busted outand hoofed it again, but they caught me and down we went, me on top.Then that man's helpmate grabbed my legs and rolled me over, like shedid before. Finally I got too tired to do anything but paw like apuppy. It seems like we must have fought that way all the morning,Dave. Anyhow, people gathered from long distances and cheered thewoman. I got desperate toward the last, and I unraveled the right hipof my bathing suit grabbing for my gun. I couldn't see the bath-housefor the sand in my eyes, so I must have led 'em up across the boulevardand into the tent colony, for after a while we were rolling aroundamong tent-pegs and tangling up in guy-ropes, and all the time ouraudience was growing. Dave, those tent-ropes sounded like guitarstrings."
Blaze paused to wipe the sweat from his brow, whereupon his listenerinquired in a choking voice:
"How did you come out?"
"I reckon I'd have got shed of 'em somehow, for I was resting up on topof my man, but that stinging lizard of a woman got her claws into theneck of my bathing-suit and r'ared back on it. Dave, she skinned me outof that garment the way you'd skin out an eel, and--there I was! Younever heard such a yelling as went up. And I didn't hear all of it,either, for I just laid back my ears and went through those sight-seerslike a jack-rabbit. I never knew a man could run like I did. I couldhear people holler, 'Here he comes,' 'There he goes,' 'Yonder he went,'but I was never headed. I hurdled the sea-wall like an antelope, andbefore they got eyes on me I was into my bath-house.
"When I'd got dressed, I sneaked up to the Galvez for a drink. In thebar were a lot of stockmen, and they asked me where I'd been. I told'em I'd been nursing a sick lodge member, and they said:
"'Too bad! You missed the damnedest fight since Custer was licked. Wecouldn't get very close, for the jam, but it was great!'
"The story went all over Galveston. The husband swore he'd kill the manwho attacked his wife, and the newspapers called on the police todiscover the ruffian."
There was a protracted silence; then Law controlled his voicesufficiently to say: "It's fortunate he didn't recognize you to-night."
"Maybe he did. Anyhow, his wife is the new dressmaker Paloma's hired. I'ain't got a chance, Dave. That story will ruin me in the community,and Paloma will turn me out when she learns I'm a--a lady-pincher."
"What are you going to do about it?"
Blaze sighed. "I don't know, yet. Probably I'll end by running fromthose scorpions, like I did before."
The next morning at breakfast Paloma announced, "Father, you musthelp Dave hunt down these cattle thieves."
"Ain't that sort of a big order?" Blaze queried.
"Perhaps, but you're the very man to do it. Ricardo Guzman is the onlyperson who knows the Lewis gang as well as you do."
Jones shook his head doubtfully. "Don Ricardo has been working up hisown private feud with that outfit. If I was the kind that went lookingfor a fight, I wouldn't have paid freight on myself from the Panhandledown here. I could have got one right at home, any morning beforebreakfast."
"Ricardo Guzman is something of a black sheep himself," Law spoke up.
"Pshaw! He's all right. I reckon he has changed a few brands in histime, but so has everybody else. Why, that's how 'Old Ed' Austin gothis start. If a cowman tells you he never stole anything, he's either adam' good liar or a dam' bad roper. But Ricardo's going straight enoughnow."
"He has lost his share of stock," Paloma explained, "and he'll workwith you if father asks him. You go along with Dave---"
"I'm too busy," Blaze demurred, "and I ain't feeling good. I had baddreams all night."
"I don't want you around here this morning. That new dressmaker iscoming."
Jones rose abruptly from the table. "I reckon my business can wait.Hustle up, Dave." A few moments later, as they were saddling theirhorses, he lamented: "What did I tell you? Here I go, on the dodge froma dressmaker. I s'pose I've got to live like a road-agent now, tillsomething happens."
Don Ricardo Guzman was an American, but he spoke no English. Anaccident of birth had made him a citizen of the United States--hisfather having owned a ranch which lay north instead of south of the RioGrande. Inasmuch as the property had fallen to Ricardo, his sons, too,were Yankees in the eyes of the law. But in all other respects DonRicardo and his family differed not at all from the many Guzmans wholived across the border. The Guzman ranch comprised a goodly number ofacres, and, since live stock multiply rapidly, its owner had in somesort prospered. On the bank of a resaca---a former bed of the RioGrande--stood the house, an adobe structure, square, white, andunprotected from the sun by shrub or tree.
Behind it were some brushcorrals and a few scattered mud jacals, in which lived the help.
Ricardo had just risen from a siesta when his two visitors rode up, andhe made them welcome with the best he had. There followed acomplimentary exchange of greetings and the usual flow of small talk.Ricardo had suffered a severe toothache--the same abominable afflictionthat had lost Porfirio Diaz an empire. It had been a dry spring, but,praise God, the water still held in the resaca--his two sons werebranding calves in one of the outer pastures--and there had been a verygood calf crop indeed. Blaze recounted his own doings; Law told ofRanger activities along the lower border. In the cool of the afternoonRicardo rode with his visitors, and then, cordial relations being nowestablished, he began to divulge information of value to Law.
Yes, he had endured many depredations from thieves. It was shameful,but doubtless God willed that a certain amount of stealing should go onin the world. The evil-doers were certainly favored by nature, in thislocality, for the great expanse of brush country to the north and eastoffered almost perfect security, and the river, to the south, gaveimmunity from pursuit or prosecution. The beeves were driven north intothe wilderness, but the horses went to Mexico, where the war hadcreated a market for them. The Federals had plenty of money to buymounts.
Whom did Don Ricardo suspect?
The old man was non-committal. Suspicion was one thing, proof was quiteanother; and conviction was difficult under the best of circumstances.Why, even a cow's recognition of her own calf was not evidence for acourt, and alibis were easily proven. Unless the thieves were caught inthe very act there was no case against them, and--por Dios!--one couldnot be for ever on guard. Who could tell where the malefactors wouldstrike next? Now, in Mexico one could afford to kill an undesirableneighbor without so much formality. But, thank God! Don Ricardo was nota Mexican. No, he was a good American citizen. It was something to makehim sleep well in these war-times.
"Just the same, I'll bet he'd sleep better if the Lewis outfit wascleaned up," Dave ventured, and Blaze agreed.
Guzman caught his enemy's name and nodded.
"Ah! That sin verguenza! He sells arms to the Candeleristas and horsesto the Potosistas. Perhaps he steals my calves. Who knows?"
"Senor Lewis doesn't need to steal. He has money," Jones argued.
"True! But who is so rich that he would not be richer? Lewis employsmen who are poor, and he himself is above nothing. I, too, am a friendof the Rebels. Panchito, the Liberator, was a saint, and I give moneyto the patriots who fight for his memory. But I do not aid the tyrantPotosi with my other hand. Yes, and who is richer, for instance, thanSenor Eduardo Austin?"
"You surely don't accuse him of double-dealing with the Rebels?" Blazeinquired, curiously.
"I don't know. He is a friend of Tad Lewis, and there are strangestories afloat."
Just what these stories were, however, Ricardo would not say, feeling,perhaps, that he had already said too much.
The three men spent that evening together, and in the morning Blazerode home, leaving the Ranger behind for the time being as Guzman'sguest.
Dave put in the next two days riding the pastures, familiarizinghimself with the country, and talking with the few men he met. Aboutall he discovered, however, was the fact that the Guzman range not onlyadjoined some of Lewis's leased land, but also was bounded for severalmiles by the Las Palmas fence.
It was pleasant to spend the days among the shy brush-cattle, withBessie Belle for company. The mare seemed to enjoy the excursions asmuch as her owner. Her eyes and ears were ever alert; she tossed herhead and snorted when a deer broke cover or a jack-rabbit scuttled outof her path; she showed a friendly interest in the awkward calves whichstood and eyed her with such amazement and then galloped stiffly offwith tails high arched.
Law had many times undertaken to break Bessie Belle of that habit offlinging her head high at sudden sounds, but she was nervous andinquisitive, and this was the one thing upon which she maintained afeminine obstinacy.
On the second evening the Ranger rode home through a drizzle that hadmaterialized after a long, threatening afternoon and now promised tobecome a real rain. Ricardo met him at the door to say:
"You bring good fortune with you, senor, for the land is thirsty.To-morrow, if this rain holds, we shall ride together--you, Pedro, andI. Those thieves do their stealing when they leave no tracks."
Raoul, the younger son, volunteered to go in place of his father, butRicardo would not hear of it.
"Am I so old that I must lie abed?" he cried. "No! We three shall ridethe fences, and if we encounter a cut wire--diablo!--we shall have astory to tell, eh?"
The sky was leaden, the rain still fell in the morning when Dave andhis two companions set out. Until noon they rode, their slickersdripping, their horses steaming; then they ate an uncomfortable lunchunder the thickest hackberry-tree they could find, after which theyresumed their patrol. Ricardo's tongue at length ran down under thisdiscomfort, and the three riders sat their saddles silently, swaying tothe tireless fox-trot of their horses, their eyes engaged in a watchfulscrutiny.
At last Pedro, who was ahead, reined in and pointed; the others sawwhere the barbed-wire strands of the fence they had been following wereclipped. A number of horse and calf tracks led through the opening, andafter an examination Ricardo announced:
"There are two men. They have come and gone, with the calves tied neckand neck."
"That is Las Palmas, isn't it?" Law indicated the pasture into whichthe trail led.
Father and son answered, "Si, senor."
For a time the Ranger lounged sidewise in his saddle, studying thecountry before him. The land was open and comparatively flat; it wasbroken by tiny clumps of mesquite and low, sprawling beds of cactus.Perhaps a half-mile away, however, began a long, narrow patch of woods,with the tops of occasional oaks showing, and this ran parallel withthe fence for a considerable distance.
"They took them in yonder, to brand," he said, straightening himself."Maybe we'll be in time."
Side by side the three men rode off Guzman's land, following the tracksto the nearest point of woods; there Law stopped to give his directions.
"Pedro, you ride down this side; Ricardo, you skirt the outside. Ishall keep to the middle. Walk your horses, for I shall go slowly." Heslipped his carbine from its scabbard; the others did the same.
But Dave's plan did not commend itself to Ricardo; the old man's facepuckered into an expression of doubt, and, removing his hat, he ran ahand over his wiry, short-cropped, white hair.
"Senor," he protested, "I know something about these men, and they willnot wait to learn that you are an officer. Perhaps I had better ridewith you."
But Law declined the well-meant offer, and with a dubious shake of thehead Ricardo rode away, while Dave guided Bessie Belle into the grove.
The mare seemed to know that something unusual was afoot. Perhaps somenervous tensity of her rider made itself felt, perhaps with equinesagacity she had understood from the first the nature of this scoutingexpedition. Dave was inclined to believe the latter--he had oftenaverred that Bessie Belle knew quite as much as or more than he. At anyrate she picked her way with admirable care, her hoofs made almost nosound upon the wet soil; only the complaint of the saddle leathers orthe swish of a wet branch rose above the steady patter of theraindrops. It was not necessary to guide her; she selected the openingsof her own free will, her small, sharp ears were alert, and her eyessearched the glades intently.
Dave smiled at this excess of caution and stroked Bessie Belle's wetneck encouragingly, whereupon she turned her head and it seemed to therider that she nodded her complete understanding. Law could have kissedher.