III: EVEN A RUSTLER HAS HIS TROUBLES
Las Bocas was slowly stewing in its native filth when the Three sightedit again at noon next day.
In all the world nothing reflects its environment more faithfully than aMexican town. Southward, the great cities of Mexico and Guadalajaratestify with their stately cathedrals, ornate public buildings,theaters, parks, and plazas, the flowering _patios_ of lovely andluxurious homes, first to the richness of the central Mexican plateau,secondly to the fact that in normal times all the wealth of the republicdrains to them. Oppositely, the northern towns with their squalid adobestreets, overrun with a plague of dirty children, dogs, vultures, pigs;desiccated by fierce heat, drowned by torrential rains; these in theirplace and turn are eminently characteristic of the arid desert. Savethat it was a little smaller, a little dirtier, perhaps a little richerin the variety of its stenches, Las Bocas might serve as the type of allMexican frontier towns.
As the wind blew their way, the Three smelled it from afar. But usagebreeds indifference even to evil odors. If not actually homesome, thefetor bespoke a possible drink.
A quarter mile before entering the town they crossed the _arroyo_ thatgave it drink. Its waters also furnished an open-air laundry for twobrown girls who knelt by its edge, pounding their soiled linen on flatboulders. These days of rampant revolution, a good girl had needs becareful, and at sight of the Three, dusty, unkempt, bearded, and gauntfrom tire and travel, _gringos_ at that, the two leaped up and fledtoward the town.
Grinning at their fright, Bull and Sliver would have ridden on, butJake, who never missed a trick, reined in his beast and began to examinethe laundry with the eye of a connoisseur. Though the remainder of herbe clad in rags, the humblest _peona_ will have her lace petticoat, andthe dozen or so pieces that were already spread out to dry on theneighboring bushes were really very fine.
"D'you allow to turn lady's maid?" Sliver spoke, as Jake bent to stuffthe lingerie into his saddle-bags.
"Not till Rosa's had the refusal of it. This orter keep her satisfiedfor at least a month."
Grinning, the pair of rascals spurred their jaded beasts and overtookBull as he entered a narrow gut of a street that followed themeanderings of the original cow-path to the _jefe's_ house, a plasteredadobe, limewashed in purple and gold, that faced the inevitable militarybarracks across a sorry attempt at a plaza.
If the small traders and artisans who constituted the bulk of thepopulation had been addicted to such flights of imagination, they mighthave pictured the _jefatura's_ yawning gates as a huge gullet throughwhich, in normal times, their substance drained in taxes, fines, andimposts to Mexico City, the nation's stomach, there to be consumed by ahungry tribe of official hookworms. Now, of course, it was beingdeflected into the private pocket of the dominant revolutionary chief.Lacking the imagination, they cursed beneath their breath and waitedpatiently till the next revolution should bring a new tyrant to avengethem on the present oppressor.
The latest incumbent was at lunch under the peppertree in the _patio_when the Three dismounted at the gates. Fat and sleek and brown, hisgenerally gross appearance was accentuated by pouched beady eyes, waxedmustache, unhealthy, erupted skin. As he sat there, shoveling in_frijoles_ and _chile_, even a _peon's_ slack imaginings could haveeasily established a resemblance--if not between him and a hookworm, atleast, to some greedy parasite. The irritability, blind individualism,offensive conceit, treachery, too common to Mexicans, lay hidden underthe usual veneer of Spanish courtesy. The embraces, backpattings,effusive greetings with which he welcomed the Three would have gracedthe reception of a favorite son.
"Enter, amigos!" His welcome buzzed through the _patio_. "Sit down andeat. Afterward we shall look over the horses. You have bestowedthem--where?"
But when he learned of their failure, the scorpion showed through theglaze of courtesy like a fly in amber. "_Carambar-r-r-aa_, senores!" Hisread wagged in a nasty way. "I had counted on the horses--to save youralive. On my desk lies a requisition from your gringo border police,demanding your bodies. Que desgracia!" The spite that scintillated inhis beads of eyes gave his words sinister significance. "One woulddislike to do it, if 'twere only through hate of your Government. Butone has to account to his chiefs. Already they have inquired for you,and always I made answer, 'These are good hombres, useful to our cause.'But deeds count more than words. Horses for their artilleria would haveproved your worth. But now--" a second nasty wag told that their failureleft them as other _gringos_, to be despised, hated, persecuted. Havinggiven the impression time to sink in, he suggested, "But there must beothers? You will try again?"
"No use." Bull's gloom emphasized the denial. "This is the second timein a month that we've been chased across the border. They're looking forus all along the line."
"Si? Then must you go elsewhere. What of"--pausing, he looked cautiouslyaround--"what of this side? In central Chihuahua there are manyhorse-ranchos, gringo ranches with fine blooded stock."
"But--"
The _jefe's_ shrug anticipated the objection. "Si, si! 'tis Mexico. Thatis what I have always told my chief--'these hombres bother only thegringo pigs.'" With a covert grin at the safe insult, he continued, "Buta gringo is a gringo, whether here or in your United States. If they bedespoiled, we shall not shed many tears. There will be a complaint, ofcourse, to and from your Government, and much writing betweendepartments. In the mean time we have the horses. So--"
"But that's Valles's country, isn't it?" Jake put in. "He's a bad hombreto fool with!"
The _jefe_ turned on him his evil grin. "What if the gringo ranchers hadcaught you last night? Hanging, amigo, is a dog's death. I would preferthe fusilado of Valles's men."
"What if he kicks to your people? Puts in a claim for our heads? You'reworking together, ain't you?"
Once again the _jefe_ looked around. "Listen, amigos! Between friendsone may show the truth. Already there is a cloud, a little cloud, nobigger than a child's hand arisen between us and Valles. If the horsesare taken from a gringo _rancho_ in Valles's country, my chiefs will bethe better pleased. What they have Valles cannot get in the days whenthe cloud grows big and black and bursts."
Sliver, who understood more Spanish than he could speak, here nudgedBull. "Ask him if he'll grub-stake the deal."
"Ask nothing!" Bull's hot eyes shot brown fire. "You heard him rubbingit into us, didn't you? If it wasn't that we need him I'd wring thelittle brown adder's neck." He went on, suavely, in Spanish, "My amigoquestions me of the price. It will be the same--fifty pesos apiece,senor?"
Nodding, the _jefe_ glanced impatiently back at his lunch. He appearedto have forgotten his invitation. Pleading an engagement, he bowed themout through the gates, then returned to his gorging while, hungrier, andeven still thirstier, the Three rode down the street.
Usually they were not averse to an exchange of glances, or aflirtation--if the _hombre_ was not in sight--with the brown girls whowatched them from their doorways. But now their glances sought only the_cantinas_, whose open bars displayed a tempting array of bottles. Whilethey looked their progress grew constantly slower, finally stopped infront of one whose owner was taking his _siesta_ stretched out on thebar.
Jake looked from the sleeper to his companions, then at the bottles ofanisette and _tequila_ on the rough wooden shelves. "If he was drunk it'u'd be easy--" As the Mexican disposed of the doubt, just then, byopening one excessively sober eye, Jake desperately concluded, "Say,kain't we raise the price among us?"
Bull tapped his empty pockets.
Sliver mourned, "All I've got is a Confederate five some one slipped meduring my last toot in El Paso. I've carried it sence for a luckypiece."
"An' lucky it is!" Jake extended an eager hand. "After thisrevolutionary currency that's run off by the million on a newspaperpress, these greasers are crazy for gringo bills. What if it has gotJeff Davis's picter on it? This fellow don't know him from Abe Lincoln.All gringo bills look alike to him. He'll never know the diff."
Neither
did he. The note, when thrown with elaborate carelessness on thebar, brought in exchange at current ratios thirty-two _pesos_ and some_centavos_, along with three stiff _copas_. Deceived by the size of theroll, the Three now proceeded to order from the _tienda_ behind the barcoffee, sugar, maize, the grease of Rosa's desire, and othernecessaries. With half a dozen bottles of _tequila_, it made a goodlypile on the counter, but the offer of the roll brought a second lessonin finance--to wit, that cheap money buys few goods. After segregatingthe _tequila_ from the groceries, the merchant explained with a bow andshrug that the thirty-two dollars and some _centavos_ aforesaidrepresented the value of either.
From the groceries, the glances of the Three passed to the _tequila_;then, with one accord, their hands went out and each closed on the neckof a bottle. They were already outside when, looking back, Sliverhappened to catch the merchant's eye.
He grinned, answering Sliver's wink. "Si, senores, this time you shalldrink with me."
That which followed was quite accidental. While the Mexican was settingout three glasses, Jake drew a pack of cards from his pocket and beganto throw two kings and an ace in the "three-card trick." So deftly hedid it that Sliver, who was really trying to pick the ace, failed half adozen times in succession. Their backs being turned, only Bull noticedthe Mexican's interest in the performance. Fascinated, he watched theflying cards.
"Looks easy, don't it?" Bull suggested. "Here, Sliver, give this hombrea chance."
Of course he succeeded, and, being Mexican, his conceit prodded him onto try again. He could do it! He'd bet his _sombrero_, his horse, hisstore, that he could do it every time! The Three being possessed of noother stake, he finally wagered the pile of goods, which still stood onthe counter, against their bottles of _tequila_--and lost! In the courseof the next half-hour, being judiciously led on by occasional winnings,there were added to the groceries six other bottles, the originalthirty-two _pesos_ and some _centavos_, a bolt of lace and linen forRosa; but for a large, greasy, and infuriated brown woman who chargedthem suddenly from the rear of the store he would undoubtedly have losthis all. Further acquisitions being balked by her unreasonableinterference with the course of nature as applied to fools, the Threepacked their winnings in the saddle-bags and rode on their way.
As a rule a certain fairness is inherent in the externally masculine.Even a Mexican expects to pay his losings, and, of his own impulse, the_comerciante_ would probably have let things go with a shrug. But not sohis woman! The eternally feminine is ever a poor loser--perhaps becauseshe has usually no hand in the game--and as the Three rode off she letloose an outcry that brought a gendarme running from around the corner.
"It is that honest Mexicans are robbed by gringo thieves while thou artlost in a siesta!" she assailed him. "After them, lazy one, and recoverour goods!"
By her violence she might have lost her case. With an answer that wasquite ungentlemanly the gendarme had already turned to go, when the twogirls whom Jake had robbed of their lingerie came tearing up the streetand added their outcries to the woman's clamor. And now the Three weresurely out of luck. It chanced that for a week past this very gendarmehad been making sheep's eyes at the larger of the two girls, and now thesaints had sent this chance for him to gain her favor.
"They stole thy--" Delicacy gave him pause; then, his naturalindignation increased by the nature of the robbery, he hot-footed it upthe street and overtook the Three.
Ordinarily the arrest would have been accomplished with lofty Spanishpunctilio, but in his heat the gendarme allowed his zeal to exceed hisdiscretion, and thereby invited disaster. For as he seized Bull'sbridle, the rustler reached over, spread his huge hand flat over theman's angry face, and sent him toppling backward into the kennel. He wasup, the next second, long gun in hand. But in that second Jake's bleakeyes squinted along his gun, Sliver had him covered, Bull's rifle wasaimed from the hip.
To give the Mexican policeman his due, he does not easily give up. Ifone man cannot bring in a prisoner, ten may. If they fail, perhaps acompany can--or a regiment. The man's shrill whistle was really far moredangerous than his absurd long gun. Instantly it was taken up on thenext street and the next; went echoing through the town till it finallybrought from the _carcel_ a squad on the run.
By that time the Three had backed up against a wall and stood withrifles leveled across the backs of their beasts. Every particle of humankindness, humor, that had showed in their dealings with one another wasgone. Jake's long teeth were bared in a wolf grin. Sliver's recklessface had frozen in stone. Bull's head and huge shoulders rose above hisbreast, his face dark, imperturbable, fierce. Grim, silent, ferocious astrapped wolves, they faced the squad which took cover while messengersbrought an officer and company from the barracks.
Now it was really dangerous. The tragedy that lurks behind all Mexicancomedy might break at any moment. In its uniform, that ragged soldieryset forth the history of three revolutions. The silver and gray ofPorfirio Diaz's famed _rurales_, the blue and red stripes or fatiguelinen of the Federal Army, even the _charro_ suits of Orozco'sColorados, were all represented. But in spite of their motley the menwere all fighters, tried by years of guerrilla warfare. Their dark brownfaces showed only eager savagery. If it had depended on them, tragedywould have burst forth there and then. But the word had to come from theofficer, who found himself looking down the barrels of three leveledrifles. It took him just five seconds to make up his mind on thisfundamental truth--whoever else survived, he would die. The game was notworth the candle! Very politely he addressed Bull.
"Did I not see you, senor, at the jefatura just now?"
With Bull's nod tragedy resolved into comedy. Swinging round on the_comerciante_ and his woman, the officer pronounced on their complaint."They that gamble must expect to lose. Off, fool! before I throw thee incarcel."
Having driven in the moral with the flat of his saber across themerchant's back, he next took up the complaint of the girls. "How knowye that these be they that stole your garments? Only that they passedwhile you were at the wash? Then back, doves, to your cotes! These befriends of the jefe and no stealers of women's fripperies."
Stiffly saluting the Three, he marched his ragged soldiery away.
Five seconds thereafter the Three were again on their way--to the_cantina_ where they usually put up.
"All we've gotter do now," Sliver chuckled as they rode on down thestreet, "is to rope a stray calf or a pig on the way home, an' Rosa'llbe fixed for a month."
But, alas for Rosa! After they had stabled their horses and eaten,followed one of those debauches that occur when men with natural"thirsts" turn loose after a period of deprivation. During its coursethey spent first the thirty-two _pesos_ and some _centavos_, drank uptheir own _tequila_, finally bartered the groceries to buy still moreliquor for the rabble of _peones_ and brown girls that flocked to the_cantina_ like buzzards to carrion.
The "drunk" went through the customary stages from boisterousconviviality, singing, loud boasting, quarreling, fighting. Three timesSliver and Jake locked and rolled on the floor, tearing like tigers ateach other's throats, nor let go till pried apart by Bull. Worse,because really terrible, was it to see the giant rustler, after theother two had lapsed into sottish sleep, sitting with his broadshoulders against the adobe wall, huge hands squeezing an imaginarythroat, while his drink-crazed brain rehearsed the details of some pasttragedy. Shortly thereafter he also rolled over in drunken sleep.
As they lay there, crumpled, limp, breathing stertorously, there wasnothing edifying in the spectacle. It would be unfair to hint at alikeness between them and the swine that snored in the kennel outside;unfair to the swine, which never descend through drink from theirnatural estate. Drunkards and outlaws, they were probably as low, atthat moment, as human beings ever go. Yet when they awoke, _sans_groceries, _sans tequila_, _sans_ money, but plus three splittingheadaches, they faced the situation with saving humor.
"Tough on Rosa," Jake said, with a rueful grin.
"If she's stil
l there," Sliver doubted. "An' I'll bet a peppercorn to atoothpick she ain't."
"Chihuahua, now, or starve," Bull succinctly summed the situation. Headded, grinning, "Anyway, we'll travel light."
Over the Border: A Novel Page 3