Lost Pueblo (1992)

by Grey, Zane

  "My Gord!" finally burst out Dick. "Snitz, do you see wot I see?"

  "I'm lookin' at thet lady in the Garden of Eden," replied Snitz, breathing heavily.

  "She ain't got a damn thing on," said Dick, in consternation. "Say, this must be gettin' to be an orful world."

  "Wonder who tooked thet picture," returned Snitz. "It had to be tooked by a fotoggrapher."

  "It says so--an' a man at thet. Shore I wouldn't been him fer a million dollars."

  "I'd tooked thet picture fer nuthin'!" said Snitz.

  Black Dick continued turning the pages, very slowly, as if he expected one of them to explode and blow them to bits.

  "Wal, hyar's somebody with clothes on--sech as they are," he observed, presently.

  "Actress. Not so bad, huh?--You'd get a hunch there ain't any men in New Yoork."

  "Men don't cut much ice nowheres," said Dick, shrewdly. "When Eve got thick with thet big snake they fixed it so men did all the work, or become tramps like us, or went to jail."

  "Dick, it ain't so long ago when the pictures we seen--most on them cigarette cairds--was wimmen in tights," said Snitz, reminiscently.

  "Shore, but it's longer'n you think. You can bet there ain't nothin' like that these days. The world is goin' to hell."

  "Hold on," interposed Snitz, halting Dick's too impetuous hand. "Heah's a nice picture."

  "Nice? Snitz, you was brought up iggnorant. Thet ain't nice. Can't you see it's two girls in a room? They're half undressed an' smokin' cigarettes. Turrible fetchin' but shore not nice."

  "Aw heck, I cain't see nuthin' wrong with it," said Snitz. "At least they're real purty."

  "Snitz, this hyar all ain't so damn funny. Thet's the fust picture of this kind I've seen since the war. Wal, time changes every-thin'... But, Snitz, we ain't so bad off. Shore, we're often hungry an' oftener broke waitin' fer a chance like this, an' we're dirty an' unshaved, with a few sheriffs lookin' fer us; but I'm damned if I'd change places with any of them people--even thet photoggrapher. Would you?"

  "Nary time, Dick. Give me a hoss an' the open country," replied Snitz, rising to take a look up and down the canyon. Black Dick's ox eyes rolled and set under a rugged frown. Evidently in the magazine he had been confronted with a mysterious and perplexing world. Janey decided about this time that this desert rat several sheriffs were looking for was not half a bad fellow.

  Presently Mrs. Durland called them to the meal she had been forced to prepare. Her face was very red and there was a black smudge on her nose, but she faced them with confidence. Snitz let out a whoop and alighted on the ground with his legs tucked under him--a marvelous performance considering the long spurs. Black Dick surveyed the white tablecloth spread upon the tarpaulin and the varied assortment of cooked and uncooked food.

  "Wal, if I ain't dreamin' now I'll have a nightmare soon," he said, and squatted down. Snitz had already begun to eat. Dick, observing that he had not unfolded his napkin, took it up and handed it to him.

  "Wot's--thet?" asked Snitz, with his mouth full.

  "You ignorramus. Sometimes I wonder if your mother wasn't a cow... Wal, I never had indigestion or colic, but I'm goin' through hyar if it kills me."

  Janey had seen hungry cowboys eat, to her amazement and delight, but they could not hold a candle to these outlawed riders of the range. Their gastronomic feats were bewildering, even alarming to see. Not a shadow of doubt was there that Mrs. Durland had served concoctions cunningly devised and mixed to make these men ill, if not poison them outright. Sandwiches, cakes, sardines, cheese, olives, pickles, jam, crackers, disappeared alike with hot biscuits, ham, potatoes, and baked beans. When they had absolutely cleaned the platter Black Dick arose and quaintly doffed his sombrero to Mrs. Durland.

  "Madam, you may be a disreputable person, but you shore can hand out the grub," he said.

  Snitz had arisen also, but his attention was on the far break of the canyon, where clouds of dust appeared to be rising.

  "Look at that, pard," he said.

  "Ahuh. Get up high somewheres, so you can see," returned Dick, and strode toward the horses that had strayed to the cedars. When he led them back Snitz had come down from the ledge.

  "Bunch of cowpunchers ridin' up the canyon," he announced.

  "Wal, we seen 'em fust," said his comrade, mounting. Then he surveyed the expectant group before him. "Madam, I reckon I'll never survive thet dinner you spread. Randolph, if you ain't in fer a necktie party, I don't know cowpunchers. Miss Janey, so long an' good luck to you. Bert-ie, if we ever meet again, I'm gonna shoot at them white pants."

  He rode away. Snitz, swinging to the saddle, flashed his red face in a devilish grin at Janey.

  "Good-by, peachy," he called, meaningly. "I'd shore love to see more of you."

  Spurring his horse he soon caught up with Black Dick. Together they rode into the cedars and disappeared up the canyon.

  "Thank God, they're gone!" cried Mrs. Durland, sinking in a heap. "Gone with every dollar--every diamond I possessed!... Bert Durland, you will rue this day."

  Janey had been realizing the return of strong feeling. It did not easily gain possession of her at once. The cowboys were coming. And that recalled the bitter shame and humiliation Randolph had heaped upon her. How impossible to forgive or forget! The anger within her was like a hot knot of nerves suddenly exposed. She hated him, and the emotions that had developed since were as if they had never been.

  "Mr. Randolph, the cowboys are coming," she said, significantly, turning to him.

  "So I heard," he replied, curtly. He looked hard and he was slightly pale. Perhaps he appreciated more than she what he was in for. Janey was disappointed that he did not appeal to her. But she would only have mocked him and perhaps he knew that.

  The dust clouds approached, rolling up out of the cedars. Crack of iron-shod hoof on rock, the crash of brush, and rolling of stones were certainly musical sounds to Janey. There was something else, too, but what she could not divine. She knew her heart beat fast. When Ray rode out of the cedars, at the head of the cowboys, it gave a spasmodic leap and then seemed to stand still. How strange a thought accompanied that! She wished they had not come. They did not appear to be a rollicking troupe of gay cowboys; they were grim men. It was very unusual for these cowboys to be silent.

  Ray halted his horse some little distance off, and his companions closed in behind. His hawk eyes had taken in the Durlands. Janey noted what a start this gave him. She heard them speaking low. Then Ray dismounted, gun in hand. That gave Janey a shock. This lout of a cowboy, whom she could twist round her little finger, seemed another and a vastly different person. They all slid off their horses.

  "Reckon Randolph's got a gun, but he won't throw it," said Ray. "Wait till I...see who these people are."

  He strode over to confront Mrs. Durland and Bert.

  "Who are you people?" he asked, bluntly.

  "I am Mrs. Percival Durland, of New York, and this is my son Bertrand," she replied, with dignity.

  "How did you get heah?"

  "We employed an Indian guide."

  "How long have you been heah?"

  "It seems a long time, but in fact it is only a couple of days."

  "What'd you come for?"

  "We used to be friends of Miss Endicott," returned Mrs. Durland, significantly. "We heard at the post she was out here, so we came--to my bitter regret and shame."

  "Who else has been here?"

  "Two miserable thieving wretches," burst out Mrs. Durland. "Black Dick and his man. They robbed us."

  "Reckon they saw us an' made off pronto?" went on Ray, his keen eyes on the ground.

  "They just left--with all I had," wailed Mrs. Durland.

  "You're lucky to get off so easy," said Ray curtly. "You found Miss Endicott an' Randolph alone?"

  "Very much alone," replied the woman, scornfully. "He had kidnaped her."

  "That's what she says," interposed Bert, with sarcasm.

  "Ahuh. I savvy," replied Ray,
fiercely. "You're intimatin' Miss Endicott might have come willin'?"

  Bert was about to reply, when one of the cowboys, whose back was turned and whom Janey could not recognize, slapped him so hard that he fell off the rock backward.

  "Wal, you better keep your mouth shet about it," said Ray, with a wide sweep of arm shoving the belligerent cowboy back.

  "Thet shore won't save Randolph."

  "Oh, this awful West!" screamed Mrs. Durland. "You're all alike. Cowboys--robbers--traders--Indians--scientists! You're a mob of deceiving bloody villains."

  "Madam, I reckon it ain't goin' to be pleasant round heah. You an' your dandy Jim better leave pronto."

  "Leave! Where and how? That man drove our guide away. We can't saddle and pack horses, and much less find our way out of this hellish hole."

  "Take yourself off then, out of sight," he continued, harshly, and turned to come toward Randolph and Janey, his gun low, but unmistakably menacing. Diego, Mojave, Zoroaster, and Tay-Tay came striding after him. The musical jingling of their spurs did not harmonize with their demeanor.

  Ray fixed Janey with a cold penetrating stare. She realized that for him, as a glorious entity--a girl to worship--she had ceased to exist. This escapade of Randolph's had ruined her with Ray beyond redemption. Janey was afraid to look in the faces of the others, for fear she would see the same condemnation. It was a sickening conception. It added fuel to the fire of her roused wrath at the perpetrator of this situation.

  "You beat it," ordered Ray, with a slight motion of his gun, signifying that Janey was to get out.

  "What for?" she asked, sharply.

  "This heah ain't no place for a--a woman," he replied. He was going to say lady. Janey saw the word forming on his lips, but he changed it. She was no longer an object of respect, even to these crude cowboys. Her spirit flamed at them, at herself, at Randolph.

  "After what I've gone through, I can stand anything. I'll stay," she said, heatedly.

  He gave her a strange glance. What eyes he had--like hot blades! No man had ever dared to look at her with such unveiled disillusion.

  "Randolph, stand up an' stick out your hands," ordered Ray. The archaeologist looked up, disclosing a dark set face and eyes that matched the cowboy's!

  "You go to hell," he replied, coolly. "Fellars, jerk him up off thet pack an' tie his hands behind him."

  This order was carried out almost as soon as Ray had spoken. Randolph was a bound man.

  "Thanks," returned Ray. "But I ain't aimin' to go where you belong... We don't care pertickler to heah your musical voice either, but if you're any kind of man you'll say whether you kidnaped Miss Endicott or not."

  "Certainly I did, you knuckle-headed cowpuncher," retorted Randolph.

  "You heah thet, boys?" called Ray, imperiously.

  "We shore heerd him," yelled the others as one man.

  "Fetch a lasso," ordered Ray, dragging Randolph forward. "An' look fer a cedar high enough to hang this guy."

  They moved off in a body toward the cedars, leaving Janey almost paralyzed. She saw them stop under one of the first trees. They were talking in low tones. Evidently Randolph spoke. The cowboys guffawed in ridicule. Then Mrs. Durland and Bert hurried up to Janey.

  "What are they going to do?" panted Mrs. Durland.

  "Hang him," whispered Janey, in awe.

  "Serve him quite right," declared the woman, nodding in great satisfaction. "If only they had that dirty Black Dick, too!"

  Janey broke from her trance and ran the short distance to the group. She heard the Durlands following. Janey would have been at her wit's end without the fright that had inhibited her. Certainly she would have to do something. If she gave way to a growing idea that the situation was beyond her--what might not happen? She gathered there had been an argument between Ray and the cowboys, for she heard sharp words on each side, and then suddenly at her approach they were silent. Randolph appeared less upset than any of them. The look of Ray gave Janey an icy chill. She had not been much frightened at Black Dick. But this lean-faced cowboy! All in a flash her hatred of Randolph and her unworthy passion for revenge were as if they had never been. She seemed as vacillating as a weather vane.

  "Ray--wh-what are you going to do to him?" she asked, struggling to control her voice.

  "We're going to make it the last time this fake scientist kidnaps a girl," replied Ray.

  "But--that rope! You can't really hang a man for so little. Why, you'd hang too if you did such a thing. There'd be an investigation."

  "Real kind of you, Miss, to worry aboot us," returned Ray, ironically. "Duty and the law are one and the same in Arizona. By hangin' this fellar we save the government expenses of keeping him in jail."

  "But he didn't do anything so--so very terrible," went on Janey, still struggling.

  "Look heah, young woman," said Ray, sharply. "Randolph kidnaped you, didn't he?"

  "Yes," admitted Janey.

  "Wal, thet's plenty. But it shore wasn't all--now, was it?" questioned the cowboy, his piercing suspicious eyes on hers. His jealousy probed the secret and his naturally primitive mind made deductions.

  Janey blushed a burning scarlet. It was a hateful thing to feel before those keen-eyed boys who had revered her. It had as much to do with an upflashing of furious shame as the recollection of Randolph's one unforgivable indignity.

  "Fellars, look at her face. Red as a beet!!" ejaculated Ray, passionately.

  "Aw, Ray, cut it," burst out Mohave. "Ain't you overdoin' it, Ray?" asked Zoroaster, darkly.

  "Y-y-y-y-you--" stuttered Tay-Tay, in unmistakable protest. But he never achieved coherent speech.

  "Damn you all! Shut up!" hissed Ray, in a deadly wrath. If his comrades meant to intercede on Janey's behalf, at least to save her from insult, he certainly intimidated them for the time being.

  "Miss Endicott, you can't say honest that Randolph didn't mistreat you," asserted rather than asked Ray. He was a hard man to face and Janey, strangely agitated, yet still not roused, was not equal to it. Besides his words were like stinging salt in a raw wound.

  "No matter what he did--you can't hang him," burst out Janey. Ray turned purple. The other cowboys subtly changed.

  "Wal, for Gawd's sake!" bawled out Ray. "Ain't thet jest like a woman?"

  "An' he stole my hoss, too," added Mohave, darkly.

  "But, Mohave, my father would buy you a hundred horses," spoke up Janey, eagerly.

  "Say, Miss, what's your father got to do with this?" demanded Ray. "He didn't steal the hoss. Randolph did. An' thet's as bad as stealin' you. Course Arizona has quit hangin' hoss thieves. But when you put the two together, why it's shore a hangin' case... Miss Endicott, your friend Randolph ain't only a villain. He's a coward."

  "I'm beginning to think a lot of things about you," retorted Janey, hotly. "And one of them is--you're a liar!"

  Ray flinched as if he had been lashed with a whip. His eyes burned and his face became like flint.

  "Wal, I ain't no kidnaper of girls--whether they're innocent--or not," he said, coarsely.

  Randolph turned half round to look at the circle of cowboys behind him.

  "Fellows, I'll be perfectly willing to be hanged if you'll grant me one request."

  "You talk to me," ground out Ray. "I'm boss of this rodeo. What you want?"

  "I'd like my hands untied so I can beat your dirty loud mouth shut," replied Randolph, ringingly.

  Ray completely lost control of himself, and lunging out, he struck Randolph a sounding blow, knocking him flat.

  "Oh, you dirty coward!" cried Janey. "To strike a man whose hands are tied!"

  Mrs. Durland screamed: "They're all outlaws, blacklegs, murderers!"

  It was Tay-Tay who assisted Randolph to rise to his feet. Blood was flowing from his mouth.

  "Mebbe thet'll keep your mug shet," declared Ray.

  "Say, Ray, this ain't gettin' us anywheres," interposed Mohave. "Mebbe we're far enough."

  "Move along, Randolph," ordered R
ay, shoving his gun into Randolph's side. He forced the archaeologist to walk on to a point under a high-branched cedar. "Somebody throw a rope over thet limb."

  But nobody complied with this order. Again Janey intuitively guessed that this situation had not been what it looked on the face. The cowboys were a divided group. Ray was deadly, implacable. No doubting his real intention! Janey had sensed his jealousy and now realized his brutality. But another sharp scrutiny of the other faces convinced Janey that with them it had been a well-acted jest, which Ray was trying to drive to earnest. But he would never succeed. Janey racked her brain for some expedient to circumvent him.

  Ray snatched the lasso from Mohave and threw the noose end over the branch, pulled it down, and with the skillful dexterity of a cowboy tossed the loop over Randolph's head.

  "Thar's your necktie, Mr. Kidnaper," he said, with fiendish satisfaction.

  Mohave seemed to pull himself together. Janey caught his quick significant glance at Diego, and she took her cue from that.

  "Wal, I'm pullin' the rope," announced Mohave, stepping forward.

  "Nothin' doin'... I'm the little man who hangs this gent. It's my rope," replied Zoroaster.

  "I weel pull the rope," said Diego, impressively.

  "W-w-w-wh-where do I come in?" stammered Tay-Tay, evidently offended.

  Janey was now almost certain of her ground, except for the silent Ray.

  "Gentlemen, let me decide which of you shall have the honor of being the first to crack Randolph's neck," interrupted Janey, with entire change of front.

  They gaped at her, nonplused. Ray's tense face relaxed to a slight sardonic grin. Janey feared him. The majority would rule here. Besides she had an idea.

  "Let me decide, please," she continued. "F-f-f-fair enough," said Tay-Tay.

  "Pick me, Miss Janey. I'm the strongest," entreated Mohave, who seemed to be returning to his natural self.

  The others, excepting Ray, loudly acclaimed their especial fittingness for the job.