CHAPTER XXV
THE TEXAN TAKES A LONG JOURNEY
Pasquale was as good as his word. He arranged that Yeager should see thefunction from first to last. The wounded man, his hands tied behind hisback, heavily guarded, was in the front row of the crowd which lined theshort walk between the headquarters of the general and the little adobechurch. The petty officer in command told him that after the bridalprocession had passed he was to be taken into the balcony of the churchfor the ceremony.
"And afterward, while Gabriel makes love to the muchacha, the GringoYeager will learn what it means to displease the Liberator," promisedthe brown man with a twinkle of cruel little eyes.
Steve gave no sign that he heard. He understood perfectly that theingenuity of Pasquale would make the day one long succession of torturesfor him. It was up to him to mask his face and manner with the stoicismof an Apache.
At a little distance he saw Farrar and Threewit, both of them veryanxious and pale. He would have called a greeting to them except that hewas afraid it might prejudice their chances.
Captain Holcomb passed in front of him and stopped.
"Mornin', Steve," he said.
"Mornin', captain." The haggard eyes of the cowpuncher asked a questionbefore his lips framed it. "Can't you do anything for the little girl?Has this hellish thing got to go through?"
"The prisoner will keep silent," snapped the Mexican sergeant.
Holcomb looked at the man with eyes of chill authority. "When I speak tothe prisoner he answers. Understand?"
"Si, senor," muttered the sergeant, taken aback. "But the generalsaid--"
"Forget it," cut in the Texan crisply. He turned to Yeager and spokedeliberately, looking straight at him. "Pasquale is going through withthis thing. Just as sure as the old reprobate is alive the padre willmarry your little friend to him within half an hour."
Was Captain Holcomb giving him a message? Steve did not know. It seemedto him that there was some hidden meaning in the long look of the steadyeyes.
The soldier nodded curtly and turned away. The Texan was dressed withunusual care. He was wearing tanned boots newly polished and the trimkhaki uniform of an officer of the United States Army. Looking at him,Yeager thought he had never seen a finer figure of a man. He carriedhimself with the light firmness of a trained soldier.
The cowpuncher was puzzled. Had Holcomb an ace up his sleeve? If so,what could it be? He had said that the marriage would be pushed through_just as sure as Pasquale was alive_. Had there been the slightestemphasis on that part of the sentence? Steve was not certain. It hadstruck him that the captain's soft voice had lingered on the words, butthat might have been fancy. Yet he could not escape the feeling thatsomething tragic was impending.
The chattering of the peons crowded in the road died away as if at asignal. From the other end of the line rose a shout. "Viva Pasquale!Viva Pasquale!"
Troopers pushed through and opened up a lane.
The general was for once in full uniform. Evidently he had just comefrom the hands of a barber. His fierce mustache and eyebrows had beentrimmed and subdued. He smiled broadly as he bowed to the plaudits ofhis men.
Then he turned and Steve caught sight of the bride. Colorless to thelips, she trembled as she moved forward, her eyes on the ground.
It was as if some bell rang within her to tell of the presence of herlover. Ruth raised her big sad eyes and they met those of Steve. Herlips framed his name soundlessly. She seemed to lean toward him,straining from Pasquale, whose arm supported her.
Somehow she broke free and flung herself toward the man she loved. Herarms fastened around his neck. With a shivering sob she clung tightly tohim.
Pasquale, his eyes stabbing with brutal rage, dragged her back and heldher wrist in his sinewy brown hand. His teeth were clenched, the veinsin his temples swollen. He glared at the cowpuncher as if he would liketo murder him on the spot.
The padre touched Gabriel on the arm. With a start the Liberator came tohimself. The procession moved forward again. Not a word had been spoken,but Pasquale's golden smile had vanished. The fingernails of hisclenched fist bit savagely into the palm of his hand.
From the procession Culvera saluted Yeager ironically. "Buenos andadios, senor."
The man to whom he spoke did not even know the Mexican was there. Hiseyes and his mind were following the girl who was being driven to herdoom.
From out of the crowd edging the walk a man stepped. It was AdamHolcomb. He stood directly in front of Pasquale and his bride, blockingthe way. There was a strange light in his eyes. It was as if he lookedfrom the present far into the future, as if somehow he were a god, anOlympian who held in his hand the shears of destiny.
The general, still furious, flung an angry look at him. "Well?" hedemanded harshly.
"I want to ask the lady a question, general."
Impatient rage boiled out of Pasquale in an imperious gesture of hisarm. "Afterward, captain. You shall ask her a hundred. Move aside."
"I'll ask it now. This wedding doesn't go on until I hear from the younglady that she is willing," he announced.
Ruth tried to run forward to him, but the iron grip of the Mexicanstayed her. "Save me," she cried.
"By God! I will."
"Arrest that man," ordered Pasquale in a passion.
At the same time he pushed Ruth from him into the crowd that lined thepath. The brown fingers of the Mexican chief closed upon the handle ofhis revolver.
"Here's where I go on a long journey," the Texan cried.
He dragged out an army forty-five. Pasquale and he fired at the sameinstant. The Mexican clutched at his heart and swayed back into thecrowd. Holcomb staggered, but recovered himself. He faced the otherMexican officers, tossed away his revolver, and folded his arms.
"Whenever you are ready, gentlemen," he said quietly.
Ramon Culvera was the first to recover. From his automatic revolver heflung a bullet into the straight, erect figure facing him. The otherscrowded forward and fired into the body as it began to sink. The Texangave a sobbing sigh. Before his knees reached the ground he was dead.
The suddenness of the tragedy, its unexpectedness, held the crowd withsuspended breath. What was to follow? Was this the beginning of amassacre? Each man looked at his neighbor. Another moment might bringforth anything.
With a bound Ramon vaulted to the saddle of a horse standing near. Hissword made a half-circle of steel as it swept through the air. Fromwhere he sat he could be seen by all.
"Brothers of the Legion, patriots all, let none become excited. I havekilled with my own hand the traitor who shot our beloved leader. GabrielPasquale is dead, but our country lives. Viva Mexico!"
The answer came from thousands of brown, upturned faces. "Viva Mexico!Viva Culvera!"
The young officer swung the sword around his head. His eyes flashed."Gracias. Friends, I solemnly pledge my life to the great cause of thepeople. Our hero is dead. We mourn him and devote ourselves anew to theprinciples for which he fought. Never shall I lay down this sword untilI have won for you the rights of a free nation. I promise you land forall, wealth for all, freedom from tyranny. Down with all the foes of thepoor."
Again the shouts rang out, this time louder and clearer. Already thesesimple, childlike peons were answering the call of their new master. OldPasquale, who for years had held their lives in the hollow of his hand,lay crumpled on the ground almost forgotten. A new star was shining intheir firmament.
"We shall march to Mexico, down the usurper, and distribute the stolenwealth of him and his pampered minions among the people to whom itbelongs. Every Mexican shall have a house, land, cattle. He shall be theslave of none. His children shall be fed. We shall have peace andplenty. I, Ramon Culvera, swear it. Mexico for the Mexicans."
Culvera was an orator. His resonant voice stirred the emotions of thisragged mob that under the leadership of Pasquale had been hammered intoan army efficient enough to defeat well-armed regulars. The men pressedcloser to listen. Their pri
mitive faces reflected the excitement thespeaker stirred in them. They interrupted with shouts and cheers.
Others among the officers had ambitions for leadership, but they knewnow that Ramon had made the moment his and forestalled them. He had wonthe army over to him.
He spoke briefly, but he took pains to see that no other speakerfollowed him. The plaudits for "General Culvera" rang like sweet musicin his ears. They told him that he had at a bound passed the officerswho ranked him and was already in effect chief of the Army of the North.
Briefly he gave directions for the care of the body of the dead generaland for the safety of the American prisoners pending a disposition oftheir cases. Before dismissing the army, he called an immediateconference of the officers.
Resolved to strike while the iron was hot, Culvera took charge of themeeting of officers and proposed at once the election of a general tosucceed Pasquale. His associates were taken by surprise. They looked outof the windows and saw pacing up and down the armed sentries Ramon hadset. They heard still an occasional distant cheer for the new leader.Given time, they might have organized an opposition. But Culvera drovethem to instant decision. They faced the imperious will of a man whowould stick at nothing to satisfy his ambition.
Moreover, Ramon was popular. He was of a good family, democratic inmanner, never arrogant on the surface to his equals. It had been hisobject to make friends against the possibility of just such acontingency. Most of the officers liked, even though they did not fullytrust him. They recognized that he had the necessary confidence inhimself for success and also the touch of dramatic genius that may makeof a soldier a public idol.
For which reasons they submitted to his domination and elected himsuccessor of Pasquale as commander of the Legion of the North. WhereuponRamon unburdened himself of another fiery oration of patriotism full ofimpossible pledges.
The newly chosen general sent an orderly out to proclaim the day aholiday and to see that mescal was served to all the men in honor of theevent. After which the conference discussed the fate of the Americanprisoners.
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