Hopalong Cassidy's Rustler Round-Up; Or, Bar-20

by Rex Beach

  CHAPTER VIII. Hopalong Keeps His Word

  The waters of the Rio Grande slid placidly toward the Gulf, the hot sunbranding the sleepy waters with streaks of molten fire. To the northarose from the gray sandy plain the Quitman Mountains, and beyond themlay Bass Ca on. From the latter emerged a solitary figure astride abroncho, and as he ascended the topmost rise he glanced below him at theplacid stream and beyond it into Mexico. As he sat quietly in his saddlehe smiled and laughed gently to himself. The trail he had just followedhad been replete with trouble which had suited the state of his mindand he now felt humorous, having cleaned up a pressing debt with hissix-shooter. Surely there ought to be a mild sort of excitement in theland he faced, something picturesque and out of the ordinary. Thiswas to be the finishing touch to his trip, and he had left his twocompanions at Albuquerque in order that he might have to himself allthat he could find.

  Not many miles to the south of him lay the town which had been therendezvous of Tamale Jose, whose weakness had been a liking for otherpeople's cattle. Well he remembered his first man hunt: the discoveryof the theft, the trail and pursuit and--the ending. He was scarcelyeighteen years of age when that event took place, and the wisdom he hadabsorbed then had stood him in good stead many times since. He had evennow a touch of pride at the recollection how, when his older companionshad failed to get Tamale Jose, he with his undeveloped strategy hadgained that end. The fight would never be forgotten, as it was hisfirst, and no sight of wounds would ever affect him as did those of RedConnors as he lay huddled up in the dark corner of that old adobe hut.

  He came to himself and laughed again as he thought of Carmencita, thefirst girl he had ever known--and the last. With a boy's impetuosity hehad wooed her in a manner far different from that of the peons who sangbeneath her window and talked to her mother. He had boldly scaled thewall and did his courting in her house, trusting to luck and to hisown ability to avoid being seen. No hidden meaning lay in his words;he spoke from his heart and with no concealment. And he remembered thetreachery that had forced him, fighting, to the camp of his outfit; andwhen he had returned with his friends she had disappeared.

  To this day he hated that mud-walled convent and those sisters whoso easily forgot how to talk. The fragrance of the old days wrappedthemselves around him, and although he had ceased to pine for hisblack-eyed Carmencita-well, it would be nice if he chanced to see heragain. Spurring his mount into an easy canter he swept down to andacross the river, fording it where he had crossed it when pursuingTamale Jose.

  The town lay indolent under the Mexican night, and the strumming ofguitars and the tinkle of spurs and tiny bells softly echoed fromseveral houses. The convent of St. Maria lay indistinct in its heavyshadows and the little church farther up the dusty street showed dimlights in its stained windows. Off to the north became audible therhythmic beat of a horse and soon a cowboy swept past the convent with amocking bow.

  He clattered across the stone-paved plaza and threw his mount backon its haunches as he stopped before a house. Glancing around anddetermining to find out a few facts as soon as possible, he rode upto the low door and pounded upon it with the butt of his Colt. Afterwaiting for possibly half a minute and receiving no response he hammereda tune upon it with two Colts and had the satisfaction of seeing half ascore of heads protrude from the windows in the nearby houses.

  "If I could scare up another gun I might get th' whole blamed town up,"he grumbled whimsically, and fell on the door with another tune.

  "Who is it?" came from within. The voice was distinctly feminine andHopalong winked to himself in congratulation.

  "Me," he replied, twirling his fingers from his nose at the curious,forgetting that the darkness hid his actions from sight.

  "Yes, I know; but who is 'me'?" Came from the house.

  "Ain't I a fool!" he complained to himself, and raising his voice hereplied coaxingly, "Open th' door a bit an' see. Are yu Carmencita?"

  "O-o-o! but you must tell me who it is first."

  "Mr. Cassidy," he replied, flushing at the 'mister,' "an' I wants to seeCarmencita."

  "Carmencita who?" teasingly came from behind the door. Hopalongscratched his head. "Gee, yu've roped me--I suppose she has got anotherhandle. Oh, yu know--she used to live here about seven years back. Shehad great big black eyes, pretty cheeks an' a mouth that 'ud stampedeanybody. Don't yu know now? She was about so high," holding out hishands in the darkness.

  The door opened a trifle on a chain and Hopalong peered eagerly forward.

  "Ah, it is you, the brave Americano! You must go away quick or you willmeet with harm. Manuel is awfully jealous and he will kill you! Go atonce, please!"

  Hopalong pulled at the half-hearted down upon his lip and laughedsoftly. Then he slid the guns back in their holsters and felt for hissombrero.

  "Manuel wants to see me first, Star Eyes."

  "No! no!" she replied, stamping upon the floor vehemently. "You must gonow--at once!"

  "I'd shore look nice hittin' th' trail because Manuel Somebody wantsto get hurt, wouldn't I? Don't yu remember how I used to shinny up thishere wall an' skin th' cat gettin' through that hole up there what yusaid was a window? Ah, come on an' open th' door--I'd shore like to seeyu again!" pleaded the irrepressible.

  "No! no! Go away. Oh, won't you please go away!"

  Hopalong sighed audibly and turned his horse. As he did so he heard thedoor open and a sigh reached his ears. He wheeled like a flash and foundthe door closed again on its chain. A laugh of delight came from behindit.

  "Come out, please!--just for a minute," he begged, wishing that he wasbrave enough to smash the door to splinters and grab her.

  "If I do, will you go away?" Asked the girl. "Oh, what will Manuel sayif he comes? And all those people, they'll tell him!"

  "Hey, yu!" shouted Hopalong, brandishing his Colts at the protrudingheads. "Git scarce! I'll shore plug th' last one in!" Then he laughed atthe sudden vanishing.

  The door slowly opened and Carmencita, fat and drowsy, wobbled outto him. Hopalong's feelings were interfering with his breathing as hesurveyed her. "Oh, yu shore are mistaken, Mrs. Carmencita. I wants tosee yore daughter!"

  "Ah, you have forgotten the little Carmencita who used to look for you.Like all the men, you have forgotten," she cooed reproachfully. Then herfear predominated again and she cried, "Oh, if my husband should see menow!"

  Hopalong mastered his astonishment and bowed. He had a desire to ridemadly into the Rio Grande and collect his senses.

  "Yu are right--this is too dangerous--I'll amble on some," he repliedhastily. Under his breath he prayed that the outfit would never learnof this. He turned his horse and rode slowly up the street as the doorclosed.

  Rounding the corner he heard a soft footfall, and swerving in his saddlehe turned and struck with all his might in the face of a man who leapedat him, at the same time grasping the uplifted wrist with his otherhand. A curse and the tinkle of thin steel on the pavement accompaniedthe fall of his opponent. Bending down from his saddle he picked up theweapon and the next minute the enraged assassin was staring into theunwavering and, to him, growing muzzle of a Colt's .45.

  "Yu shore had a bum teacher. Don't yu know better'n to push it in? An'me a cowpuncher, too! I'm most grieved at yore conduct--it shows youdon't appreciate cow-wrastlers. This is safer," he remarked, throwingthe stiletto through the air and into a door, where it rang out angrilyand quivered. "I don't know as I wants to ventilate yu; we mostlypoisons coyotes up my way," he added. Then a thought struck him. "Yumust be that dear Manuel I've been hearin' so much about?"

  A snarl was the only reply and Hopalong grinned.

  "Yu shore ain't got no call to go loco that way, none whatever. I don'twant yore Carmencita. I only called to say hulloo," responded Hopalong,his sympathies being aroused for the wounded man before him from hisvivid recollection of the woman who had opened the door.

  "Yah!" snarled Manuel. "You wants to poison my little bird. You withyour fair hair and your cursed swa
gger!"

  The six-shooter tentatively expanded and stopped six inches from theMexican's nose. "Yu wants to ride easy, hombre. I ain't no angel, but Idon't poison no woman; an' don't yu amble off with th' idea in yore headthat she wants to be poisoned. Why, she near stuck a knife in me!" helied.

  The Mexican's face brightened somewhat, but it would take more than thatto wipe out the insult of the blow. The horse became restless, and whenHopalong had effectively quieted it he spoke again.

  "Did yu ever hear of Tamale Jose?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, I'm th' fellow that stopped him in th' 'dobe hut by th' arroyo.I'm tellin' yu this so yu won't do nothin' rash an' leave Carmencita awidow. Sabe?"

  The hate on the Mexican's face redoubled and he took a short stepforward, but stopped when the muzzle of the Colt kissed his nose. He wasthe brother of Tamale Jose. As he backed away from the cool touch ofthe weapon he thought out swiftly his revenge. Some of his brother'sold companions were at that moment drinking mescal in a saloon down thestreet, and they would be glad to see this Americano die. He glancedpast his house at the saloon and Hopalong misconstrued his thoughts.

  "Shore, go home. I'll just circulate around some for exercise. No hardfeelings, only yu better throw it next time," he said as he backed awayand rode off. Manuel went down the street and then ran into the saloon,where he caused an uproar.

  Hopalong rode to the end of the plaza and tried to sing, but it was adismal failure. Then he felt thirsty and wondered why he hadn't thoughtof it before. Turning his horse and seeing the saloon he rode up to itand in, lying flat on the animal's neck to avoid being swept off by thedoor frame. His entrance scared white some half a dozen loungers, whoimmediately sprang up in a decidedly hostile manner. Hopalong's Coltspeeped over the ears of his horse and he backed into a corner near thebar.

  "One, two, three--now, altogether, breathe! Yu acts like yu never saw areal puncher afore. All th' same," he remarked, nodding at severalof the crowd, "I've seen yu afore. Yu are th' gents with th' hot-footget-a-way that vamoosed when we got Tamale."

  Curses were flung at him and only the humorous mood he was in savedtrouble. One, bolder than the rest, spoke up: "The senor will not seeany 'hot-foot get-a-way,' as he calls it, now! The senor was not wise togo so far away from his friends!"'

  Hopalong looked at the speaker and a quizzical grin slowly spread overhis face. "They'll shore feel glad when I tells them yu was askin' for'em. But didn't yu see too much of 'em once, or was yu poundin' leatherin the other direction? Yu don't want to worry none about me--an' if yudon't get yore hands closter to yore neck they'll be heck to pay! There,that's more like home," he remarked, nodding assurance.

  Reaching over he grasped a bottle and poured out a drink, his Coltslipping from his hand and dangling from his wrist by a thong. As theweapon started to fall several of the audience involuntarily moved as ifto pick it up. Hopalong noticed this and paused with the glass halfway to his lips. "Don't bother yoreselves none; I can git it again," hesaid, tossing off the liquor.

  "Wow! Holy smoke!" he yelled. "This ain't drink! Sufferin' coyotes,nobody can accuse yu of sellin' liquor! Did yu make this all byyoreself?" He asked incredulously of the proprietor, who didn't knowwhether to run or to pray. Then he noticed that the crowd was spreadingout and his Colts again became the center of interest.

  "Yu with th' lovely face, sit down!" he ordered as the person addressedwas gliding toward the door. "I ain't a-goin' to let yu pot me from th'street. Th' first man who tries to get scarce will stop somethin' hot.An' yu all better sit down," he suggested, sweeping them with his guns.One man, more obdurate than the rest, was slow in complying and Hopalongsent a bullet through the top of his high sombrero, which had a mostgratifying effect.

  "You'll regret this!" hissed a man in the rear, and a murmur ofassent arose. Some one stirred slightly in searching for a weapon andimmediately a blazing Colt froze him into a statue.

  "Yu shore looks funny; eeny, meeny, miny, mo," counted off the daringhorseman; "move a bit an' off yu go," he finished. Then his face brokeout in another grin as he thought of more enjoyment.

  "That there gent on th' left," he said, pointing out with a gun the manhe meant. "Yu sing us a song. Sing a nice little song."

  As the object of his remarks remained mute he let his thumbostentatiously slide back with the hammer of the gun under it. "Sing!Quick!" The man sang.

  As Hopalong leaned forward to say something a stiletto flashed past hisneck and crashed into the bottle beside him. The echo of the crash wasmerged into a report as Hopalong fired from his waist. Then he backedout into the Street and, wheeling, galloped across the plaza and againfaced the saloon. A flash split the darkness and a bullet hummed overhis head and thudded into an adobe wall at his back. Another shot and hereplied, aiming at the flash.

  From down the Street came the sound of a window opening and he promptlycaused it to close again. Several more windows opened and hastilyclosed, and he rode slowly toward the far end of the plaza. As he facedthe saloon once more he heard a command to throw up his hands and sawthe glint of a gun, held by a man who wore the insignia of sheriff.Hopalong complied, but as his hands went up two spurts of fire shotforth and the sheriff dropped his weapon, reeled and sat down. Hopalongrode over to him and swinging down, picked up the gun and looked theofficer over.