A Masque of Chameleons
Page 36
“Sorry, hombre, but I have no intention of getting into the bad graces of General Paredes. When did you switch identities with this Jason Whitney?”
“I met him on the road from Guadalajara. We, er, got into a game of monte — I might say I’m sure he cheated — and, well, when I didn’t have any more money, he suggested exchanging papers. Believe me, if I’d known there was such interest in him, I’d never have done it.”
“So the real Jason Whitney was the man with you?”
“Oh no. The real one left me in Tepic and said he was going on to Mazatlan. That deadly boy who was my traveling companion I picked up when I, er, wanted to do a card trick that took two people to accomplish.”
“A trick to separate honest men from their money, was it not?” Roberta interjected bitterly.
“I don’t even know who he was,” Jason went on blandly, ignoring her. “When we came into our room at the inn, this person I’m supposed to have murdered — and a very unpleasant piece of work he was, let me tell you — seemed to think I was Whitney, which made me think he’d never met the gentleman. We really aren’t all that much alike, though the scars we both had on our faces must have satisfied him. I don’t know how Whitney got his, but an irate husband with a cavalry saber gave me mine. Anyway, this man at the inn became quite abusive and pulled a gun, at which point my companion slipped him a knife and was out the window before the man hit the floor. The rest you know.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this yesterday? When Zaragoza died, I very nearly had you taken out and shot.”
Jason shrugged. “Would you have believed me? I knew I wasn't Whitney, and I didn't think God would allow me to be shot as Whitney.” His eyes shifted nervously to Roberta.
“I may wish in the end that He hadn't interfered. Look, it's nothing to you if I stay here a day or so longer, is it? Give a fellow a break,” he wheedled. “I'll make it worthwhile for you, indeed I will.”
Roberta said nothing but reached into her reticule and drew out a handful of gold coins. One by one she put them on the comandante's desk, each making an audible clink, until there was a stack of five. She looked at Jason coldly and raised her eyebrows. He gave her a sickly smile and slowly came out from behind the comandante's chair.
The comandante also smiled, like the cat that swallowed the canary. “I am feeling great sympathy for this poor man, senora. Perhaps he should stay for a few more days at that.” He looked meaningfully at her reticule.
Roberta's look became icy. “I don’t think we understand each other, comandante. I am perfectly willing to wait in this pesthole until you tire of feeding him, at which time I shall have him for free. I shall also see to it that my uncle rewards your cooperation as it deserves.” She put her hand on the stack of coins, causing a reflexive clench of the comandante's fist. “Well?”
“My feelings of sympathy do have a limit,” he admitted hastily and pocketed the coins the minute she took her hand from them.
“Come, Reginald,” she commanded imperiously, and a thoroughly cowed Jason slunk out after her, followed by the McDonalds.
Once outside, “Keep it up,” muttered Jason. “We're sure to be watched.”
The procession continued unchanged until the ornate door closed behind them at the McDonalds’ house. “You’d better hurry and shave, Jason,” Roberta said in a dull voice. “Your ship is due to sail in an hour.”
Jason took her by the shoulders and shook her gently, his mouth curved in that astonishing smile. “While I was in that verminous cell, I had plenty of time to think, and God help both of us, love, I cannot let you go. However did I — or you, either — entertain the idea for a moment that I could sail away and leave a girl who beards outlaws in their dens, rafts down several hundred miles of wild river, bites a chunk from the leg of the head of Mexico’s secret police, and fishes me out from under the nose of a greedy comandante for only five onzas? That’s better than hunting tigers and climbing the Matterhorn any day. Besides,” and his eyes glinted with amusement, “who will conjure up hot baths for me, tell me that.” His smile departed. “I’ll make a rotten husband, my sweet, and there are bound to be times I’ll sulk over having to act the tame tabby cat, but if you’ll have me - ” He broke off and turned to McDonald without waiting for her to speak. “Could we presume upon your hospitality, sir, until the Phoebe arrives tomorrow bound for California? We may possibly need the protection of Her Majesty if anyone begins to have second thoughts. Besides, you’re empowered to marry people, aren’t you?”
“Why, of course you’re welcome to our bed and board,” a surprised McDonald replied readily, “but I thought - ”
“Jason, we’ll both have to hurry if we’re going to catch that ship,” Roberta interrupted him, half laughing, half crying. “You surely didn’t think that the girl who beards outlaws in their dens could resist seeing the Cannibal Islands and the Desert of Kyzyl Kum, can you?”
So it was that hand in hand they later ran down past the Chinese customhouse with its iguanas basking in the sun toward the wharf where the shore boat for the Morning Star now lay waiting. Behind them puffed Juanito, holding their few belongings clutched against the pocketful of cigars he had appropriated from the consul's office.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIV
CHAPTER XV
CHAPTER XVI
CHAPTER XVII
CHAPTER XVIII
CHAPTER XIX
CHAPTER XX
CHAPTER XXI
CHAPTER XXII
CHAPTER XXIII
CHAPTER XXIV
CHAPTER XXV
CHAPTER XXVI
CHAPTER XXVII