Bucky O'Connor: A Tale of the Unfenced Border

by William MacLeod Raine

  CHAPTER 15. IN THE SECRET CHAMBER

  The escaping party groped its way along the passage in the wall, down arough, narrow flight of stone steps to a second tunnel, and along thisunderground way for several hundred yards. Since he was the only onefamiliar with the path they were traversing, the governor took the leadand guided the others. At a distance of perhaps an eighth of a mile fromthe palace the tunnel forked. Without hesitation, Megales kept to theright. A stone's throw beyond this point of divergence there began tobe apparent a perceptible descent which terminated in a stone wall thatblocked completely the way.

  Megales reached up and put his weight on a rope suspended from the roof.Slowly the solid masonry swung on a pivot, leaving room on either sidefor a person to squeeze through. The governor found it a tight fit, asdid also Gabilonda.

  "I was more slender last time I passed through there. It has beenseveral years since then," said the governor, giving his daughter a handto assist her through.

  They found themselves in a small chamber fitted up as a living room ina simple way. There were three plain chairs, a bed, a table, and adresser, as well as a cooking stove.

  "This must be close to the prison. We have been coming in that directionall the time. It is strange that it could be so near and I not know ofit," said the warden, looking around curiously.

  Megales smiled. "I am the only person alive that knew of the existenceof this room or of the secret passage until half an hour ago. I had itbuilt a few years since by Yaquis when I was warden of the prison.The other end, the one opening from the palace, I had finished after Ibecame governor."

  "But surely the men who built it know of its existence."

  Again Megales smiled. "I thought you knew me better, Carlo. The Yaquiswho built this were condemned raiders. I postponed their execution afew months while they were working on this. It was a convenience both tothem and to me."

  "And is also a convenience to me," smiled Carlo, who was beginning torecover from his terror.

  "But I don't quite understand yet how we are to get out of here exceptby going back the way we came," said Gabilonda.

  "Which for some of us might prove a dangerously unhealthy journey. True,colonel, and therefore one to be avoided." Megales stepped to the wall,spanned with his fingers a space from the floor above a joint in themasonry, and pressed against the concrete. Inch by inch the wall fellback and opened into a lower corridor of the prison, the very one indeedwhich led to the cell in which Bucky and his love were imprisoned.Cautiously the Spaniard's glance traveled down the passage to see it wasempty before he opened the panel door more than enough to look through.Then he beckoned to Gabilonda. "Behold, doubting Thomas!"

  The warden gasped. "And I never knew it, never had a suspicion of it."

  "But this only brings us from one prison to another," objected thegeneral. "We might be penned in here as well as at the castle."

  "Even that contingency has been provided for. You noticed, perhaps,where the tunnel forked. The left branch runs down to the river-wash,and by ten minutes' digging with the tools lying there one can force anexit."

  "Your excellency is certainly a wonder, and all this done withoutarousing the least suspicion of anybody," admired the warden.

  "The wise man, my dear colonel, prepares for emergencies; the fooltrusts to his luck," replied the governor dryly.

  "Are we to stay here for the present, colonel?" broke in the governor'sdaughter. "And can you furnish accommodations for the rest of us if westay all night, as I expect we must?"

  "My dear senorita, I have accommodations and to spare. But the troubleis that your presence would become known. I should be the happiest'man alive to put my all at the accommodation of Chihuahua's fairestdaughter. But if it should get out that you are here--" Gabilondastopped to shrug his fat shoulders at the prospect.

  "We shall have to stay here, or, at least, in the lower tier of cells.I'm sorry, Carmencita, but there is no other course compatible withsafety," decided Megales promptly.

  The warden's face cleared. "That is really not a point for me to decide,governor. This young American, O'Connor, is now in charge of the prison.I must release him at once, and shall then bring him here to confer withyou as to means of safety."

  Bucky's eyes opened wide when Gabilonda and Megales came alone andwithout a lantern to his cell. In the darkness it was impossible torecognize them, but once within the closed cell the warden produced adark lantern from under his coat.

  "Circumstances have arisen that make the utmost vigilance necessary,"explained the warden. "I may begin my explanations by congratulating youand your young friend. Let me offer a thousand felicitations. Neither ofyou are any longer prisoners."

  If he expected either of them to fall on his neck and weep tears ofgratitude at his pompous announcement, the colonel was disappointed.From the darkness where the ranger's little partner sat on the bed camea deep sigh of relief, but O'Connor did not wink an eyelash.

  "I may conclude, then, that Mike O'Halloran has been getting in hiswork?" was his cool reply.

  "Exactly, senor. He is the man on horseback and I travel afoot," smiledMegales.

  Bucky looked him over coolly from head to foot. "Still I can't quiteunderstand why your ex-excellency does me the honor of a personalvisit."

  "Because, senor, in the course of human events Providence has seen fitto reverse our positions. I am now your prisoner and you my jailer,"explained Megales, and urbanely added a whimsical question. "Shall youhave me hanged at dawn?"

  "It would be a pleasure, and, I reckon, a duty too. But I can't promisetill I've seen Mike. Do some more explaining, colonel. I want to knowall about the round-up O'Halloran is boss of. Did he make a right goodgather?"

  The subtleties of American humor baffled the little Mexican, but heappreciated the main drift of the ranger's query, and narrated with muchgesticulation the story of the coup that O'Halloran had pulled off incapturing the government leaders.

  "It was an exceedingly neat piece of strategy," its victim admitted. "Iwould give a good deal to have the privilege of hanging your red-headedfriend, but since that is denied me, I must be grateful he does not takea fancy to hang me."

  "In case he doesn't, your excellency," was Bucky's addendum.

  "I understand he has decided to deport me," retorted Megales lightly."It is perhaps better politics, on the whole, better even than a knifein the back."

  "Unless rumor is a lying jade, you should be a good judge of that,governor," said the American, eyeing him sternly.

  Megales shrugged. "One of the penalties of fame is that one gets creditfor much he does not deserve. There was your immortal General Lincoln,a wit so famous in your country that every good story is fathered uponhim, I understand. So with your humble servant. Let a man accomplishhis vendetta upon the body of an enemy, and behold! the world cries: 'Avictim of Megales.'"

  "Still, if you deserve your reputation as much as our immortal GeneralLincoln deserves his, the world may be pardoned for an occasionalerror." O'Connor turned to the warden. "What does he mean by saying thathe is my prisoner? Have you a message for me from O'Halloran, colonel?"

  "It is his desire, senor, that, pending the present uncertain state ofpublic opinion, you accept the command of the prison and hold safe allpersons detained here, including his excellency and General Carlo. Hedesired me to assure you that as soon as is possible he will arrive toconfer with you in person."

  "Good enough, and are you a prisoner, too, colonel?"

  "I did not so understand Senor O'Halloran."

  "If you're not you have to earn your grub and lodgings. I'll appointyou my deputy, colonel. And, first off, my orders are to lock up hisexcellency and General Carlo in this cell till morning."

  "The cell, Senor O'Connor, is damp and badly ventilated," protestedGabilonda.

  "I know that a heap better than you do, colonel," said Bucky dryly. "Butif it was good enough for me and my pardner, here, I reckon it's goodenough for them. Anyhow, we'll let them try it, won't
we, Frank."

  "If you think best, Bucky."

  "You bet I do."

  "And what about the governor's daughter?" asked Gabilonda.

  "You don't say! Is she a guest of this tavern?"

  The colonel explained how they had reached the prison and thecircumstances that had led to their hurried flight, while the rangerwhistled the air of a cowboy song, his mind busy with this new phase ofthe case.

  "She's one of these here Spanish blue-blooded senoritas used to guitarserenades under her window. Now, what would you do with her in a jail,Bucky?" he asked himself, in humorous dismay; but even as he reflectedon it his roving eye fell on his friend. "The very thing. I'll takeCurly Haid in to her and let them fall in love with each other. You'reliable to be some busy, Bucky, and shy on leisure to entertain a lady,let alone two."

  And so he arranged it. Leaving the former governor and General Carlo inthe cell just vacated by them, Frances and he accompanied Gabilonda tothe secret room behind the corridor wall.

  All three parties to the introduction that followed acknowledgedsecretly to a surprise. Miss Carmencita had expected the friend of big,rough, homely O'Halloran to resemble him in kind, at least. Instead, shelooked on a bronzed young Apollo of the saddle with something of thatsame lithe grace she knew and loved in Juan Valdez. And the shy boybeside him--why, the darling was sweet enough to kiss. The big, brown,helpless eyes, the blushing, soft cheeks, the crop of thick, light curlswere details of an extraordinarily taking picture. Really, if thesetwo were fair specimens, Americans were not so bad, after all. Whichconclusion Juan Valdez's fondness for that race may have helped in partto form.

  But if the young Spanish girl found a little current of pleasure in hersurprise, Bucky and his friend were aware of the same sensation. Allthe charm of her race seemed summed up in Carmencita Megales. She wasof blue blood, every feature and motion told that. The fine, easy setof her head, the fire in the dark, heavy-lashed eyes, the sweep of duskychin and cheek and throat certified the same story. She had, too, thatcoquettish hint of uncertainty, that charm of mystery so fatal inits lure to questing man. Even physically the contradiction of sexattracted. Slender and lissom as a fawn, she was yet a creature ofexquisitely rounded curves. Were her eyes brown or black or--in thesunlight--touched with a gleam of copper? There was always uncertainty.But much more was there fire, a quality that seemed to flash out fromher inner self. She was a child of whims, a victim of her moods. Yet inher, too, was a passionate loyalty that made fickleness impossible. Sheknew how to love and how to hate, and, despite her impulses, was capableof surrender complete and irrevocable.

  All of this Bucky did not read in that first moment of meeting, but theshrewd judgment behind the level blue eyes came to an appraisal roughlyjust. Before she had spoken three sentences he knew she had all hersex's reputed capacity for injustice as well as its characteristicflashes of generosity.

  "Are you one of the men who have rebelled against my father andattempted to murder him?" she flashed.

  "I'm the man he condemned to be hanged tomorrow morning at dawn forhelping Juan Valdez take the guns," retorted Bucky, with a laugh.

  "You are his enemy, and, therefore, mine."

  "I'm a friend of Michael O'Halloran, who stood between him and the mobthat wanted to kill him."

  "Who first plotted against him and seduced his officers to betray him,"she quickly replied.

  "I reckon, ma'am, we better agree to disagree on politics," said Buckygood-naturedly. "We're sure liable to see things different from eachother. Castile and Arizona don't look at things with the same eyes."

  She looked at him just then with very beautiful and scornful ones, atany rate. "I should hope not."

  "You see, we're living in the twentieth century up in the sunburnedState," said Bucky, with smiling aplomb.

  "Indeed! And we poor Chihuahuans?"

  "When I see the ladies I think you're ce'tainly in the golden age, butwhen I break into your politics, I'm some reminded of that Richard Thirdfellow in the Shakespeare play."

  "Referring, I presume, to my father?" she demanded haughtily.

  "In a general way, but eliminating the most objectionable points of theking fellow."

  "You're very kind." She interrupted her scorn to ask him where he meanther to sleep.

  He glanced over the room. "This might do right here, if we had that bedaired."

  "Do you expect to put me in irons?"

  "Not right away. Colonel, I'll ask you to go to the office and notifyme as soon as Senor O'Halloran arrives." He waited till the colonel hadgone before adding: "I'm going to leave this boy with you, senorita, fora while. He'll explain some things to you that I can't. In about anhour I'll be back, perhaps sooner. So long, Curly. Tell the lady yoursecret." And with that Bucky was out of the room.

  "Your secret, child! What does he mean?"

  The flame of color that swept into the cheeks of Frances, the appealin the shamed eyes, held Carmencita's surprised gaze. Then coolly ittraveled over the girl and came back to her burning face.

  "So that's it, is it?"

  But the scorn in her voice was too much for Frances. She had been judgedand condemned in that cool stare, and all the woman in her protested atits injustice.

  "No, no, no!" she cried, running forward and catching at the other'shand. "I'm not that. You don't understand."

  Coldly Carmencita disengaged her hand and wiped it with her kerchief. "Iunderstand enough. Please do not touch me."

  "May I not tell you my story?"

  "I'll not trouble you. It does not interest me."

  "But you will listen?" implored the other.

  "I must ask to be excused."

  "Then you are a heartless, cruel woman," flamed Frances. "I'm good--asgood as you are." The color patched her cheek and ebbed again. "Iwouldn't treat a dog as you do me. Oh, cruel, cruel!"

  The surprising extravagance of her protest, the despair that rang in thefresh young voice, caught the interest of the Mexican girl. Surely sucha heart-broken cry did not consist with guilt. But the facts--when ayoung and pretty girl masquerades through the country in the garb of aboy with a handsome young man, not much room for doubt is left.

  Frances was quick to see that the issue was reopened. "Oh, senorita, itisn't as you think. Do I look like--" She broke off to cover with herhands a face in which the pink and white warred with alternate success."I ought not to have come. I ought never to have come. I see that now.But I didn't think he would know. You see, I had always passed as a boywhen I wanted to."

  "A remarkably pretty one, child," said Miss Carmencita, a smile dimplingher cheeks. "But how do you mean that you had passed as a boy?"

  Frances explained, giving a rapid sketch of her life with the Hardmansduring which she had appeared every night on the stage as a boy withoutthe deception being suspected. She had cultivated the tricks and waysof boys, had tried to dress to carry out the impression, and had alwayssucceeded until she had made the mistake of putting on a gypsy girl'sdress a couple of days before.

  Carmencita heard her out, but not as a judge. Very early in the storyher doubts fled and she succumbed to the mothering instinct in her. Shetook the American girl in her arms and laughed and cried with her; forher imagination seized on the romance of the story and delighted in itsfresh unconventionality. Since she had been born Carmencita's lifehad been ordered for her with precision by the laws of caste. Herenvironment wrapped her in so that she must follow a set and beatenpath. It was, to be sure, a flower-strewn one, but often she impotentlyrebelled against its very orderliness. And here in her arms was a victimof that adventurous romance she had always longed so passionately toknow. Was it wonder she found it in her heart to both love and envy thesubject of it?

  "And this young cavalier--the Senor Bucky, is it you call him?--surelyyou love him, my dear."

  "Oh, senorita!" The blushing face was buried on her new friend'sshoulder. "You don't know how good he is."

  "Then tell me," smiled the other. "And call me Carme
ncita."

  "He is so brave, and patient, and good. I know there was never a manlike him."

  Miss Carmencita thought of one and demurred silently. "I'm sure thisparagon of lovers is at least part of what you say. Does he love you?But I am sure he couldn't help it."

  "Sometimes I think he does, but once--" Frances broke off to ask, in apink flame: "How does a lover act?"

  Miss Carmencita's laughter rippled up. "Gracious me, have you never hadone before."

  "Never."

  "Well, he should make verses to you and pretty speeches. He should singserenades about undying love under your window. Bonbons should bombardyou, roses make your rooms a bower. He should be ardent as Romeo,devoted as a knight of old. These be the signs of a true love," shelaughed.

  Frances' face fell. If these were the tokens of true love, her rangerwas none. For not one of the symptoms could fairly be said to fit him.Perhaps, after all, she had given him what he did not want.

  "Must he do all that? Must he make verses?" she asked blankly, not beingable to associate Bucky with poetasting.

  "He must," teased her tormentor, running a saucy eye over her boyishgarb. "And why not with so fair a Rosalind for a subject?" She broke offto quote in her pretty, uncertain English, acquired at a convent in theUnited States, where she had attended school:

  "From the east to western Ind, No jewel is like Rosalind. Her worth being mounted on the wind, Through all the world bears Rosalind.

  All the pictures, fairest lin'd, Are but black to Rosalind. Let no face be kept in mind But the fair of Rosalind."

  "So your Shakespeare has it, does he not?" she asked, reverting again tothe Spanish language, in which they had been talking. But swift on theheels of her raillery came repentance. She caught the dispirited girl toher embrace laughingly. "No, no, child! Nonsense ripples from my tongue.These follies are but for a carpet lover. You shall tell me more of yourSenor Bucky and I shall make no sport of it."

  When Bucky returned at the expiration of the time he had set himself, hefound them with their arms twined about each other's waists, whisperingthe confidences that every girl on the threshold of womanhood has totell her dearest friend.

  "I reckon you like my pardner better than you do me," smiled Bucky toMiss Carmencita.

  "A great deal better, sir, but then I know him better."

  Bucky's eyes rested for a moment almost tenderly on Frances. "I reckonhe is better worth knowing," he said.

  "Indeed! And you so brave, and patient, and good?" she mocked.

  "Oh! Am I all that?" asked Bucky easily.

  "So I have been given to understand."

  Out of the corner of his eye O'Connor caught the embarrassed,reproachful look that Frances gave her audacious friend, and he found iteasy to fit quotation marks round the admirable qualities that had justbeen ascribed to him. He guessed himself blushing a deux with his littlefriend, and also divined Miss Carmencita's roguish merriment at theirconfusion.

  "I AM all those things you mentioned and a heap more you forgot to say,"claimed the ranger boldly, to relieve the situation. "Only I didn't knowfor sure that folks had found it out. My mind's a heap easier to knowI'm being appreciated proper at last."

  Under her long, dark lashes Miss Carmencita looked at him in gentlederision. "I'm of opinion, sir, that you get all the appreciation thatis good for you."

  Bucky carried the war into the enemy's country. "Which same, I expect,might be said of Chihuahua's most beautiful belle. And, talking ofSenor Valdez reminds me that I owe a duty to his father, who is confinedhere. I'll be saying good night ladies."

  "It's high time," agreed Miss Megales. "Talking of Senor Valdez,indeed!"

  "Good night, Curly said."

  "Good night, Bucky."

  To which, in mocking travesty, added, in English, Miss Carmencita, whoseemed to have an acute attack of Shakespeare:

  "Good night, good night; parting is such sweet sorrow That I shall say good night till It be morrow."