by B. M. Bower
CHAPTER XII
POTENTIAL MOODS
So engrossed was the senorita in her truly feminine game ofcat-and-mouse that she quite forgot her worry over Mrs. Jerry untilshe was in her own room and smiling impishly at herself in the mirror,while she brushed the wind-tangles from her hair and planned freshtorment for the Senor Jack. The senorita liked to see his eyesdarken and then light with the flames that thrilled her; and it wasexceedingly pleasant to know that she could produce that effect almostwhenever she chose. Also, her lips would curve of themselves whenevershe thought of Jose's rage and subsequent bafflement when she rode offwith Senor Jack; and of Senor Jack's black looks when she praisedJose afterwards. Truly they hated each other very much--those twocaballeros! She was woman enough to know the reason why, and to find agreat deal of pleasure in the knowledge.
Still smiling, she lifted a heavy lock of hair to the light andspeculated upon the mystery of coloring. Black it was, except whenthe sun lighted it and brought a sheen that was almost blue; and SenorJack's was neither red, as was the hair of the big Senor Simpson, norbrown nor gold, but a tantalizing mixture of all; especially whereit waved it had many different shades, just as the light gold and thedark of the pretty senora's--It was then that remembrance came to thesenorita and made her glance a self-accusing one, when she looked ather reflected face.
"Selfish, thoughtless one that thou art to forget that sweet senora!"she cried. And for punishment she pulled the lock of hair so thatit hurt--a little. "I shall ask Senor Hunter if he will not send thecarriage for her--and perhaps I shall go with him to bring her; thoughtruly she will never leave the big hombre who speaks so many wordsover such slight matters. I am glad I did not yet carry Chico to livethere in that small camp. Till the house is finished, he shall staywith me. Truly the storm would kill him if he were there. But perhapsthe storm will not be so great, after all--not so great as is thestorm in the hearts of those two who met and would have fought, hadI not so skillfully prevented it! Santa Maria, I truly must have beeninspired, to act like the dove with the branch of the olive whenI flew between them; and the eyes of Jose were blazing; and SenorJack--" There came the smile again, and the dawdling of the brushwhile she thought of those two. So the pretty senora was forgotten,after all, and left to shiver over her mending in the prairie schoonerbecause Teresita was a spoiled child with more hearts than it is goodfor a girl to play with.
As a matter of fact, however, the pretty senora was quite accustomedto discomfort in varying degrees, and gave less thought to the weatherthan did the more tenderly sheltered women of the valley, so that noharm came of the forgetfulness; especially since the storm fell farshort of Gustavo's expectations and caused that particular prophet theinconvenience of searching his soul and the heavens for an explanationof the sunshine that reprehensibly bathed the valley next day in itssoft glow.
Also, no immediate harm resulted from the rage of the two caballeros,although not even the most partial judge could give the credit toTeresita's "olive branch." Chance herself stepped in, and sent aheavy, dead branch crashing down from a swaying oak upon the headand right shoulder of Jose, while he was riding into his own patio.Whereupon Jose, who had been promising himself vengefully that hewould send Manuel immediately with a challenge to the gringo who haddared lift eyes to the Senorita Teresa Picardo, instantly forgot bothhis love and his hate in the oblivion that held him until nightfall.
After that his stiffened muscles and the gash in his scalp gave himtime for meditation; and meditation counseled patience. The gringowould doubtless go to the rodeo, and he would meet him there withoutthe spectacular flavor of a formal challenge. For Jose was a decentsort of a fellow and had no desire to cheapen his passion or causethe senorita the pain of public gossip. It was that same quality ofdignity in his love that had restrained him from seeking a deliberatequarrel with Jack before now; and though he fumed inwardly while hisouter hurts healed, he resolved to wait. The rodeo would give him hischance.
Because it is not in the nature of the normal human to keep his soulalways under the lock and key of utter silence, a little of hishate and a little of his hope seeped into the ears of Manuel, whosepoultices of herbs were doing their work upon the bruised muscles ofJose's shoulder, and whose epithets against the two gringos who wereresponsible for his exile from the Picardo hacienda had the peculiarflavor of absolute sincerity. Frequently he cursed them while hechanged the poultices; and Don Jose, listening approvingly, added nowand then a curse of his own, and a vague prediction of how he meantto teach the blue-eyed one a lesson which he would weep atremembering--if he lived to remember anything.
Manuel did not mean to tattle; he merely let fall a word or two toValencia, whom he met occasionally in the open and accused bitterly ofhaving a treacherous friendship for the gringos, and particularly forthe blue-eyed one.
"Because that mongrel whose hair is neither red nor yellow nor blackspeaks praise to you of your skill, perchance, and because he makesyou laugh with the foolish tales he tells, you would turn against yourown kind, Valencia. No honest Spaniard can be a friend of the gringos.Of the patron," he added rather sorrowfully, "I do not speak, fortruly he is in his dotage and therefore not to be judged too harshly.But you, Valencia--you should think twice before you choose a gringofor your friend; a gringo who speaks fair to the father that he maycover his love-making to the daughter, who is easily fooled, like allyounglings.
"The young Don Jose will deal with that blue-eyed one, Valencia. Everyday he swears it by all the saints. He but waits for the rodeo anduntil I have healed his shoulder--and then you shall see! There willbe no love-making then for the gringo. Jose will have the senoritayet for his bride, just as the saints have desired since they playedtogether in the patio and I watched them that they did not run intothe corrals to be kicked in the head, perchance, by the mustangs wehad there. Jose, I tell you, has loved her too long to stand now withthe sombrero in hand while that arrogant hombre steals her away. Whenthe shoulder is well--and truly, it was near broken--and when theymeet at the rodeo, then you shall see what will happen to your newgringo friend."
Valencia did not quarrel with Manuel. He merely listened and smiledhis startlingly sunny smile, and afterwards repeated Manuel's wordsalmost verbatim to Jack. Later, he recounted as much as he consideredpolitic to Don Andres himself, just to show how bitter Manuel hadbecome and how unjust. Valencia, it must be admitted, was not in anysense working in the interests of peace. He looked forward with a gooddeal of eagerness to that meeting of which Manuel prated. He had allthe faith of your true hero-worshiper in his new friend, and with thestory of that last eventful day which Jack had spent in San Franciscoto build his faith upon, he confidently expected to see Jose learn amuch-needed lesson in humility--aye, and Manuel also.
Since even the best-natured gossip is like a breeze to fan the flamesof dissension, Don Andres spent an anxious hour in devising a planthat would preserve the peace he loved better even than prosperity.While he smoked behind the passion vines on the veranda, he thoughthis way slowly from frowns to a smile of satisfaction, and finallycalled a peon scurrying across the patio to stand humbly before himwhile he gave a calm order. His majordomo he would see, as speedily aswas convenient to a man as full of ranch business as Dade Hunter foundhimself.
Dade, tired and hot from a forenoon in the saddle inspecting thehorses that were to bear the burden of rodeo work, presentlycame clanking up to the porch and lifted the sombrero off hissweat-dampened forehead thankfully, when the shade of the vinesenveloped him.
The eyes of the don dwelt pleasedly upon the tanned face of hisforeman. More and more Don Andres was coming to value the keencommon-sense which is so rare, and which distinguished Dade'scharacter almost as much as did the kindliness that made nearly everyman his friend.
The don had already fallen into the habit of presenting his ordersunder the guise of ideas that needed the confirmation of themajordomo, before they became definite plans; and it speaks much forthose two that neither of them suspected th
at it was so. Thus, DonAndres' solution of the problem of preserving peace became the subjectfor a conference that lasted more than an hour. The don was absolutelycandid; so candid that he spoke upon a delicate subject, and one thatcarried a sting of which he little dreamed.
"One factor I cannot help recognizing," he said slowly. "I am notblind, nor is the senora blind, to the--the--friendship that isgrowing between Senor Jack and our daughter. We had hoped--but we havelong been resolved that in matters of the heart, our daughter shallchoose for herself so long as she does not choose one altogetherunworthy; which we do not fear, for to that extent we can protect herby admitting to our friendship only those in whose characters we havesome confidence. Now that we understand each other so well, amigo,I will say that I have had some correspondence with friends in SanFrancisco, who have been so good as to make some investigations inmy behalf. Their Vigilance Committee," he said, smiling, "was not theonly tribunal which weighed evidence for and against your friend, norwas it the only vindication he has received.
"I am assured that in the trouble which brought him to my househe played the part of an honest gentleman fighting to uphold theprinciples which all honest men espouse; and while he is hot-temperedat times, and perhaps more thoughtless than we could wish, I hear noill of him save the natural follies of high-stomached youth.
"Therefore I am willing to abide by the choice of my daughter, whosehappiness is more dear to her parents than any hope they may havecherished of the welding of two families who have long been friends.I myself," he added reminiscently, "fled to the priest with mysweetheart as if all the fiends of hell pursued us, because herparents had chosen for her a husband whom she could not love. Sincewe know the pain of choosing between a parent's wishes and the call ofthe heart, we are resolved that our child shall be left free to choosefor herself. Therefore, I think our plan is a wise one; and the resultmust be as the saints decree."
Dade, because he was engrossed with stifling the ache he had begunto think was dead because it had grown numb, bowed his head withoutspeaking his assent and rose to his feet.
"I'll tell Jack," he said, as he started for the stables. "I guesshe'll do it, all right."