CHAPTER V
CHASTISEMENT CONDIGN
Dan Tillinghurst and Little Jack Wilder sat under the big cottonwood infront of the court-house, commenting upon things in general, and,presently, more particularly upon Curtis Conrad and his mare, BrownBetty, when they espied him talking with the landlord in front of thehotel across the stream. The town of Golden lay in a gulch among thefoot-hills. It had been a thriving silver camp in the older days.Discovered in the heyday of the pale metal, it had yielded so richlythat the men flocking thither, in sheer, exultant contempt of the valueof its yellow brother, had named the camp "Golden Gulch." The mines hadbeen in the bottom of the gulch, and near them, along the banks of thestream, had been built all the houses of the mining days. The earliestroads had run along each side of the water, and these were still themain streets of the town. Facing one another across the two streets andthe bed of the creek were all the public buildings and business houses,the two hotels, some of the best residences, and many of the poorerones. The Mexican quarter, called "Doby Town" by the Americans,straggled along these thoroughfares and up the hillsides just beyond theheart of the town. Down their entire length cottonwoods of notable girthand majesty spread their branches.
One of the largest and finest of these trees shaded the court-housecorner where the Sheriff and his deputy were sprawling their legsand waiting for something to happen. The Sheriff was burly andbroad-shouldered, although his legs had not quite been able to keep pacewith the growing massiveness of his torso. The occasions were rare whenhis blue eyes were not twinkling with good humor, while his mouthbeneath its absurd little moustache curved in a smile as habitual as hischeerful kindliness and universal optimism. Little Jack Wilder, who owedhis descriptive title to his six feet three of height, was slender andlithe. He wasted neither words in talk nor bullets in pistol fights, andhe had the reputation of being one of the best shots in the Southwest,as good even as Emerson Mead, over at Las Plumas in the adjoiningcounty.
Curtis Conrad walked across the bridge that spanned the stream, BrownBetty at his heels, and met their "Hello, Curt!" with "Hello! Anythingnew?"
"Yes," said Wilder, "anyway, there's likely to be."
"What sort?"
"That's what we'd like to know," said Tillinghurst. "Jack's beensashaying around Doby Town for the last two days with his eye on aMexican horse thief, waitin' for him to do something he can be arrestedfor; and the darn' fool won't do a thing! He just sits aroundrespectable and behaves himself. Jack's gettin' all out of patience withhim."
Little Jack growled a corroborative oath, and took a chew of tobacco.
"Well, if you know he's a horse thief, why don't you arrest him?" askedConrad.
"We know it all right," said Jack; "but he ain't lifted no critters yetin this county. He's been doin' some chicken-thieving and that sort o'thing around town the last week, but we ain't goin' to arrest him forthat."
Wilder shut his jaws with a determined snap, while Tillinghurst went onto explain in answer to Conrad's look of surprise: "If we arrest himfor that he'd be taken before a justice of the peace; and you-all knowwhat kind of a mess Diego Vigil would make of it. He'd likely fine theman whose chicken-coop had been raided because he didn't have more stuffin his back-yard to be stolen, and he'd discharge Jose Maria Melgareswith a warning not to wake people up o' nights by letting the chickenssquawk!"
The Sheriff's smile broadened and ran down his throat in a chuckle.Little Jack Wilder burst explosively into brief and profane speech thatshowed his opinion of Mexicans, and especially of Mexican justices ofthe peace, to be most contemptuous.
"Then why do you give them the office?" Curtis demanded. "Both partiesdo it, all over the Territory, though you all know that every time theyget a chance they make justice look like a bobtailed horse. Up northlast week one of 'em fined a man five dollars for committing murder andwarned him not to do it again or he'd have to make it ten next time. Youfolks all knew what you might expect from Vigil when you gave him theplace."
"Oh, well, Curt, you-all ain't run for office yet. When you do, you'llappreciate the fact that the greasers have got to be put where they'lldo the most good. I'm willin' to give 'em that much, and I'm only toothankful old Vigil and his friends don't strike for the Sheriff's place."
Tillinghurst chuckled, while Wilder smiled grimly and profanely reckonedhe wouldn't serve under Vigil or any other Mexican. "Mebbe thatpock-marked Melgares has been up to some mischief by this time," headded. "I hain't set eyes on him for nigh two hours. Let's go down tothe Blue Front, have a drink, and find out if anything's happened."
They went down the street together, Brown Betty following with thebridle over her neck. A block farther down stream, a good-lookingMexican came out of the First National Bank and passed them. The Sheriffturned a second keen glance upon him. "That looks like LiberatoHerrara," he said to his deputy in a hasty aside. Raising his voice heaccosted the man in Spanish.
The Mexican turned and replied in precise English with grave courtesy,"Did the senor speak to me?"
"Yes; ain't you Liberato Herrara?"
"No, senor. My name is Jose Gonzalez."
The Sheriff apologized, and the other bowed politely, fell behind, andcrossed to the other side of the stream. Conrad asked Tillinghurst if hedid not believe Herrara guilty of the murder of which he had beenacquitted several months before.
"Of course he was. And it's likely that ain't the only one either. I'mglad this man ain't him. If he was down here it would be on somebusiness for Baxter, and it wouldn't do for me to find out too muchabout it."
Conrad snorted contemptuously, and Wilder said, "Dan, you're talkin' toodamn much."
"Oh, Curt's all right," replied the Sheriff, placidly. "He couldn't hateBaxter any more than he does if he tried, but he don't go back on hisfriends. This man Melgares," he went on, "that we're hopin' will make uphis mind to do somethin' worth while, tells a queer yarn. He says heused to have a good ranch in the Rio Grande valley, between Socorro andAlbuquerque, but he borrowed money on it from Baxter. Of course hecouldn't pay, Dell foreclosed, and Melgares had to get out."
"Yes; I heard the other day about Baxter's operations up there," Conradbroke in hotly. "I understand he's got hold of a lot of land in justthat way. It's a cursed, low-down, dirty piece of business."
"Oh, well, better men than Baxter have done the same sort of thing," theSheriff responded. "From all I can find out about Melgares I reckon hewas honest enough up to that time; but he's been goin' it pretty livelyever since. I think he's aimin' to work down to the border, where he cando the crisscross act."
Conrad turned with an exclamation of sudden remembrance. "By the way!Bill Williams told me just now that Rutherford Jenkins is here, at hishotel. Have you seen him? Do you know what he's here for?"
"I haven't talked with him, but I reckon he's here on some deal forJohnny Martinez."
Curtis tied the mare to the hitching-post on the corner. "I've heard,"he said cautiously, "that he has a venomous tongue and uses itrecklessly. Do you know whether he's been doing any outrageous talkinglately?"
"Well, I reckon nobody would believe anything Jenkins said, anyway. ButI haven't heard anything. Have you, Jack?"
Some other men came along, and they all stopped to talk together. Curtisleaned against the mare and stroked her glossy neck. She poked her noseinto his coat pocket and found a lump of sugar, which she ate with muchdainty tossing of her head. It was some minutes before they entered thesaloon.
The "Blue Front" was a two-roomed shanty on the edge of the Mexicanquarter. Gambling games of various sorts occupied the back room; andthere, too, political deals were arranged and votes bargained and paidfor between the American politicians and the leaders of the Mexicans.When Conrad and his friends came down the street a number of men were inthe rear room, some talking and others busy at cards. At a table near aside window men of both races were engaged in a poker game. One of theplayers, a pock-marked Mexican with a defective eye, frequently glanceddown the street. When he
saw the Sheriff and his two companionsapproach, he rose and watched them. The others wanted to know what hewas looking at, and he asked who was the man with the brown mare. Atall, dark American, with slightly stooping shoulders, looked up withinterest as he heard them give Conrad's name, and joined the group atthe window. Several of the men spoke with enthusiasm about Brown Betty,and one, who said he had once worked at Socorro Springs ranch, told themthat Conrad thought more of her than of anything else he owned. When themen in front entered the saloon, the pock-marked Mexican cashed in hischips and slipped out through the rear door.
The sound of Conrad's voice in the bar-room caught the attention of thetall, dark American. An angry flush reddened his face, his beady eyessnapped, and the tip of his tongue licked his lips. Then somethingamusing seemed to occur to him, for his features relaxed into a smileand he glanced briskly around the room.
"See if you can find Melgares, will you?" he asked the Mexican with whomhe had been talking. "Tell him I'll wait for him outside the back door."
He stepped out into the bright sunshine, smiling and rubbing his handstogether. Back of the shanty was a high adobe wall surrounding thecorral of the Mexican houses fronting on the next street. A wooden doorin the wall opened cautiously, and the pock-marked face looked out.
"You sent for me, Senor Jenkins?" the Mexican asked.
"Yes. It's all right. You needn't be afraid. I want you to do something,Melgares."
They stepped inside the corral and Melgares bolted the door. "You sawConrad's mare just now?" Jenkins began. "Fine creature, isn't she?"
"Splendid, senor. The finest I have seen in a long time."
"I'll warrant it! I never saw a better myself. Looks like a goodtraveller, doesn't she?"
"Si, senor."
"And a stayer, too, I guess! It wouldn't be hard to get to the Mexicanborder on her back, would it?"
Melgares grinned, then shook his head. "But my family--I could not takethem with me."
"Well--see here, Melgares. Here's fifty dollars. If you'll get away withConrad's mare you can have it for your trouble. It will take your familydown there all right."
"But you, senor,--where do you come in?" He looked suspiciously atJenkins.
"Oh, never mind me. Conrad did me a bad turn a while ago, and I'mevening up the score. That's all I want out of it."
"But now, senor?"
"Yes; now's your chance. He's in the saloon, and the mare's tied at thecorner."
"The Sheriff is in there, too. The risk is great."
"Well, I'll go in and keep them busy. I'll raise excitement enoughinside so that nobody will even look out of the windows. Get out therein five minutes, be quick about it, and ride off down the valley road."
"Give me the money, senor. I'll take the chance."
Jenkins returned, and entered the bar-room with his former companionwithout attracting the attention of Conrad and his friends. The otherspoke of the report about the Castleton money and mentioned CurtisConrad's name. Jenkins raised his voice in angry reply:
"Oh, damn Conrad! Martinez don't want his help!"
Curtis heard the words and turned sharply around, his face flushing.Jenkins appeared not to see him, and went on:
"The Castletons are all right, but Conrad's help would be a disgrace toany party. Martinez don't want it!" His voice rang loud and shrillabove the silence that had fallen suddenly upon the room.
Curtis's face paled, even under its ruddy tan, and his eyes blazed. Withhead up he strode forward. "Jenkins," he said, without raising hisvoice, although it shook with a warning tremor, "I advise you to becareful. You may have your opinion about me, as I have mine aboutyou--and you know what that is. But don't you say that again, noranything else of the sort!"
Jenkins turned toward him with an ugly sneer. Recollection of formerindignities at Conrad's tongue and hands blazed up in his heart andcarried him farther than he had meant to go. With an oath and a vilename he flung his glass in Conrad's face. In an instant the young man'sarms were around his body. The others crowded in and tried to stop thequarrel.
"Let us alone!" shouted Curtis, pushing his way toward the back room."Wilder, take his gun, will you? Get mine out of my pocket, too. Thiswon't be a gun play."
Tillinghurst took Conrad's pistol, and Wilder succeeded in gettingJenkins's revolver, at the cost of a kick on the shin, which he repaidin kind. With Jenkins almost helpless in his grasp, Curtis struggledinto the rear room. The others were all crowding after him. He turnedback a face still pale and set with anger, although a twinkle ofamusement was creeping into his eyes.
"Dan," he called, "shut that door and keep out the crowd!"
Instantly there were cries of disapproval.
"Fair play!" "You're bigger than him!" "We want to see it's on thesquare!"
Curtis scowled. "If any of you think it won't be on the square, justwait for me till I get through with him," he shouted.
The Sheriff slammed the door, and set his bulk against it, saying withsmiling cheerfulness: "Well, gentlemen, I reckon Mr. Jenkins won't getany more than is comin' to him, and as Sheriff I call on all of you tokeep the peace and not interfere."
Alone in the back room with his prisoner, Conrad dropped into a chair,dragged the other over his knees, face downward, then threw out onesinewy leg and caught under it Jenkins's two unruly limbs. Still keepinga firm grip with his left arm, he raised his right hand.
"Now," he said grimly, "you're going to get the sort of spanking yourmother didn't give you enough of."
One after another the resounding smacks came down, while Jenkins, hisstrength spent in futile struggle, could do nothing but writhehelplessly under the smarting blows. The sound of them penetrated to thefront room. As the men there realized what was happening they broke intolaughter so uproarious that it smote upon Jenkins's ears and forced ahysterical shriek from between his gritted teeth. In Conrad's heart itinspired compassion and he desisted.
"I guess that'll do for this time," he said, releasing his hold andstanding the culprit on his feet. "I don't want to have to hurt you, butlet me tell you, you damned skunk," and he seized Jenkins's shouldersand gave him a vigorous shake, "if you ever dare talk about me again inthat way, or tell another human being what you told me about Bancroft,I'll make you wish you'd never been born."
With a parting shake he let Jenkins fall back into the chair, sobbingaloud. Then he stalked to the door, not even doing his enemy the slighthonor of going out backward.
The Delafield Affair Page 5