Part 15

From where he was sitting he usually could see--either Betty at play on the veranda, her mother moving in and out, or Terrubio moving around the stables. To-night silence wrapped the place. From the west, as on the south where he sat, the land fell rapidly toward the _rancho_, and as he rode forward, puzzled, the silence was explained. Over the western ridge the widow, Terrubio, and Betty came riding, and reached the house just as he rode up.

"Though we brought bad news to his son," she explained the delay, "the old Icarza would not permit us to leave till we had broken his bread. How did Ramon take it? Just as I said he would--out came the Mex in in all of its nasty selfishness, blind conceit. She was promised to him and he would hold her to it! He'd kill any one who interfered. Goodness! you never _saw_ such fireworks! He showed no trace of the real pride that would have kept one of our boys from showing his hurt; and still less consideration for Lee. It was"--she gave a little sniff of disgust--"just sickening. I was almost sorry she couldn't have been there, for it would have effectually cured her remorse. But she'll get it to-morrow, for he's going over to plead his own cause."

Unease swept Bull's dark visage. After a brief statement of his mission he voiced his apprehension. "But if he's coming to-morrow, I don't know but I orter go back."

"Nonsense!" Mrs. Mills pooh-poohed the idea. "It's all fireworks--and there's Sliver and Gordon and Jake."

To which Betty added a direct command. "You are just going to stay here. We haven't seen you for ever so long, and mama is just dying to tell you her troubles."

"Tea and trouble," the widow laughed. "A genuine woman's party."

When he lifted and placed her with one swing on the veranda she allowed one hand to remain on his shoulder, and he was not so ignorant of woman nature as not to recognize the liking behind the action. While she bustled around, adding dainties to the meal Terrubio's woman had ready, he watched her with an expression that she, on her part, could not fail to interpret. And whereas, on previous visits, she had managed all kinds of accidental contacts, watched with mischievous delight for the effect, she was now filled with pleasurable confusion that manifested itself in an almost girlish shyness.

When, afterward, they moved out upon the veranda, Bull's dream of an hour ago was almost fulfilled. For Betty snuggled as usual in his arms, while the widow busied herself with a bit of sewing--a fine excuse that lent itself to the lowering of eyes, permitted stealthy glances.

While they were at supper, the sun had slid down to the western horizon. Pools of deep indigo now filled the hollows. Above them the plains ran, a deep violet sea broken with apricot foam where the crests of the great earth waves rolled high, ran off and away around the bases of gold and crimson mountains.

It was unearthly in its beauty, and while they could not have put their feeling in words, it filled both with that sense of vastness before which man in his littleness quails. Often the widow paused in her sewing, and as Bull saw that infinite loneliness reflected in her face, the big, simple soul of him melted with love and pity. Till the lights faded and she no longer needed its excuse, she alternately sewed and gazed; then when warm gloaming settled over all, wiped out the loneliness with its friendly gloom, she recovered her voice.

"Oh, I had almost forgotten."

It was that which she had seen in the morning--to wit, Gordon snatching Lee out of her saddle.

"And oh, isn't it nice to think that she'll be settled, at last, with that fine boy!"

Happy in the conclusion, she began to sketch a picture of them settled happily at Los Arboles. Her voice, as she ran on, took a little quiver that powerfully expressed her own loneliness, inspired in Bull an intense desire to seize and squeeze it out. Instead his arms tightened around the child.

"Not one marriage in a hundred turns out what it might be. But with the exception, when respect, friendliness, affection, and a sense of duty are reinforced by love--well, it's the nearest to heaven that poor humans ever gain." She added, with a sigh: "Excepting that it gave me this child, my own wasn't all that it might have been. She's been a joy and comfort, but--in a few years more she'll be marrying, herself. Then I'll be again alone."

"Why did _you_ never marry?" Betty's small, soft voice stole out on the darkness from the depths of Bull's embrace.

The stock excuses rose to his lips--but did not pass, for through the friendly gloaming he was aware of a rustle. His face turned toward it.

"I never felt myself fit."

"Why, that's just nonsense!" Betty indignantly declared. "Any woman that wasn't a downright fool would be glad to have you. I know one that would give her best shoes--"

"Betty!"

But the small rebel ran on, "Well, she would--even if I can't tell you her name."

Once more Bull faced a stir in the darkness. "I've led a hard, rough, bad life. No decent woman would ever want me."

Now he saw the dim whiteness of her face turning to him. Her quiet voice took up the argument. "It's a thin, pinched nature that's always good. A big, strong one is liable to be led astray by its own force before wisdom comes to teach and chasten. In the long run I don't know but that it gains by it in charity and loving-kindness. Wickedness of the flesh doesn't count so much as wickedness of the heart; the inward vileness that rots and corrupts; and I've seen as much of that in the churches as among downright sinners." She concluded with the very words that Gordon had used with Lee. "It isn't what you _were_, but what you _are_ that counts."

From a second warm silence issued Bull's vibrant rumble. "You think a man that has lived hard has a right to speak, to a good woman--providing he's put it all behind him?"

Low, but confident and firm, her answer thrilled through the gloaming. "I do, and--she'd _love_ to help him."

Almost without his volition, Bull's huge paw stole out. He half hoped she wouldn't see it. He had begun to withdraw it when, like a dim white dove, her hand came fluttering and nested in his.

Every life has its golden hour. That was Bull's, and, like a pearl shining in the mire, it stood out from the blackness of his past life. Though neither spoke, the peace and quiet, surety of perfect understanding, settled upon them. When, presently, Betty resumed her chatter, they listened or joined in. After she fell asleep they relapsed again into happy silence; just sat like a shy boy and girl, hand in hand, till she rose and carried the child off to her bed.

To meet her, next morning, was to Bull something of an ordeal, but her quiet smile restored at once the perfect understanding. Her sense of proprietorship showed in the way she fussed over his coffee and eggs, berated him for his lack of appetite. Her final inspection before he left could not have been outdone in severity by Lee herself. But nothing was said. She knew that he would speak in his own good time.

Except that her hand clung a little in parting, it differed little from their usual. "I shall look for you when you return." Her call after him reiterated ownership.

His answer confirmed it. "I shall come here, ma'am, straight from the station."

Indeed, the real parting came when, reining in at fifty yards, he looked back over his shoulder. With both hands on Betty's shoulders, slightly dejected, yet with her honest, level gaze sending out trust and hope, she stood watching him go, as the race of wives and mothers have stood throughout the generations. And just as, throughout time, the sight of a woman's trust and child's faith have urged real men on to big deeds, so the sight of them set the ex-rustler's heart swelling within him. As, with a last wave of the hand, he turned again and rode on, the spirit within him equaled in love and reverence that of an ancient knight-errant starting out in pursuit of the Holy Grail.

XXVI: A SETTLEMENT

About the time Bull started, Lee and Gordon rose from the breakfast-table under the Los Arboles _portales_.

Perhaps with sympathetic intuition, for they exchanged an amiable grin, Sliver and Jake had already passed out. It is true that Maria and Teresa, the small brown _criadas_, were peeping from the crypt-like depths of their kitchen. But even had she been aware of their vast interest, Lee would not have withdrawn the hand which, as they rose, had somehow tangled with Gordon's. Reflected and thrown up from the yellow wall, the strong morning lights bathed the flesh of her arms, face, and neck with suffused amber, wove a soft glow in the mesh of her hair. So different from her usual boyish activity, her gentle quiet, combined with the warm air, suffused lights, to create a dreamy spell. Goodness knows how long they would have stood if Maria had not come out to clear the table.

Then Lee spoke. "Such sloth! This will never do if I am to go to El Sol and return to-day. While I dress will you please get my horse?"

When Gordon reached the stable Sliver had already gone, but Jake had lingered to say a word. It was very much to the point. "Say! Bull tipped me off as how the young greaser was likely to show up an' raise some hell to-day. Don't you allow I'd better hang around?"

He nodded, however, when Gordon explained the situation. "Missy don't know he's coming, hey?--thinks she's going over there. Then they'll meet on the way. Mebbe I'd better tag along."

But to this Gordon's pride would not consent. "Don't you think I can take care of her?"

"No one better," Jake hastened to appease. "But, say! If he doesn't show up, don't you let her go on over there--not if you have to rope an' drag her home."

"Like we did before?" He smiled at the memory. "This time I'll not leave her the saddle machete."

"Little bit too smart for you that time," Jake grinned in sympathy. "Take care she don't spring a new one. She ain't so very slow."

Nevertheless, in the face of his apparent acquiescence, while apparently heading out on his usual beat, he whirled behind the first ridge and, proceeding at a fast lope, had covered five miles of the way to El Sol, the Icarzas' _hacienda_, by the time Lee came out. Slowing down, then, he rode more leisurely, had covered another mile when, over the crest of a ridge, he sighted Ramon coming at a gallop down the opposite slope. A clump of mesquite and _palo verde_ afforded convenient cover. Forcing his beast in, Jake stooped low and watched Ramon go by, so close that his stirrup whipped the bushes.

It had never been Jake's habit to notice Mexicans. But now he noted with surprise the change in the young man's face. The lines deeply plowed down the nose under the cheeks, the hardening of the red, womanish lips, the vindictive black sparkle that had contracted his great dusky eyes into burning black dots, added ten years to his age.

"The Mex is souring in him," Jake inwardly commented. "That guinea's liable to try an' hurt some one. Glad I came."

Allowing Ramon to pass on, Jake then rode after, and so, progressing from ridge to ridge, keeping always the height of land between them, was less than fifty yards behind when, peeping over the crest, he saw Lee and Gordon coming up the slope.

Another bunch of chaparral afforded cover, and after tying his horse in it, Jake crawled up to the ridge and looked over.

It was not without argument that Gordon had obtained Lee's consent to accompany her. When she found him standing with two horses at the gate, her brows rose in a troubled arch.

He understood that she hesitated to accuse him of bad taste, and quoted Bull's last orders to remove the impression. "He said that you were never to ride alone."

The responsibility being thus shifted, she felt able to speak. "It is rather-- Really, I don't see how I can do anything else."

"Why go at all? Why not write?"

She shook her head. "I've known him since childhood--and have treated him badly. I owe him an apology and it will have to come from my own lips."

It was reasonable enough from her point of view, but not from his. If Ramon were an American he would have said, "Go, ahead; take your medicine!" Being Mexican, discretion bade him remain.

"At least let me ride with you part of the way. I will turn before you reach El Sol."

"Oh, that will be all right," she had conceded at once.

He had felt certain, of course, that they would meet Ramon. But the usual witcheries, sweep of the tawny earth-waves under the bright sun, satisfying thud of hoofs on the trail, creak and smell of hot leather, had combined to blind him to all but her presence. Now, before he could turn, Ramon reined in before them.

Like Jake, they noticed at once the sardonic furrows, set mouth, frown above the glittering eyes. With his youth had vanished that veneer of refinement which conceals natural Mexican grossness. Like veins in a stratum revealed by a landslide, selfishness, conceit, violence, revenge, lay exposed. With the natural instinct of good breeding, Gordon had half turned to withdraw. But even if one glance at the passion-torn face had not checked the impulse, it would have been killed when Lee backed toward him. Shocked and a little afraid, she gazed at Ramon before she spoke.

"Are you ill? You look so--"

"So it was true, what the señora told me yesterday!" He spoke in low, strained tones. "It was true, though I did not believe; refused to believe. But now I see. It is true that you used me as bait for your fishing."

"Ramon!" She raised her hand, but he switched suddenly from denunciation to appeal.

"No! it is not true! It cannot be! She lied! I will not believe it even though you tell me yourself!"

From this he ran on with an appeal, hysterical and disconnected, which reflected as in a clear glass the nature of his love. In it was no appreciation of the feminine personality with its delicacies of feeling, refinements, inconsistencies, helplessness, all the illogicalities that render it charming, as much or more than its faith and love. In terms of blind egotism, it expressed only his passion and jealousy, fatuous conceit. As in a clear glass, under a powerful light, he revealed himself so that even a woman blinded by love could not have failed to see. In the middle of it Gordon heard Lee take a long breath, and knew it for thankfulness. Yet her relief did not kill her poignant regret for the part she had played.

She spoke softly, pityingly, when he stopped. "Ramon, I'm sorry. It was wicked of me to draw you on. But to marry you would be far worse. What can I do to make up?"

He told, with anger and offense. She had promised to be his wife! It was a betrothal! as binding in Mexican eyes as marriage! He had announced it to his father, mother, sister, friends! His conceit cropped out again as he pictured himself, jilted, in their eyes. Angered by his own imaginings, he was growing abusive when she cut him quietly off.

"I was on my way when we met, to own and ask pardon for my fault. I had counted on our old friendship and your generosity to make it less difficult. But I see, now, my error. There is nothing left but to bid you good-by."

Now came the ultimate revelation, that passion of furious jealousy which drives the Mexican _peon_ to cut off the hands, slash the face and breast, of his love. His eyes narrowed to shifting, insane sparks. Hand raised, as though to strike, he spurred his beast forward.

"You--you--"

He got no further, for one hard dig of the spur shot Gordon's horse in between. From English to Spanish the argument had run, but from Lee's answers Gordon had gathered enough. Though slower, his beast was heavier than Ramon's, and while forcing horse and rider sideways with a steady pressure he issued his orders:

"That's about enough for you! Get!"

Ramon's hand flew to his saddle _machete_, but he did not draw, for Gordon's had gone to his gun. Leg pressed against leg, they manoeuvered their plunging beasts; without drawing a weapon fought the old fight of the brown man and the white; the struggle which began when Cortés imposed his will on the Aztec emperors; was continued by the Puritan forefathers against the American Indian; which has been fought to the same conclusion all over the world. And from the two faces--Gordon's cold, hard-eyed, Ramon's distorted with black fury--the cause of that inevitable ending might have been read.

So close they were Gordon could see the palpitation of light from the insane waverings of the other's eyeballs steady under a doubt. He felt rather than saw the Mexican's sudden swift reach for his knife. Even more swiftly he snatched, and with a sudden wrench of the other's wrist sent the knife flying and bore him back flat in the saddle. For a moment he held him, then with a powerful shove his horse sent Ramon's beast stumbling sideways and broke the grip. Wheeling in a circle, Ramon faced them again.

So far Lee had looked on distressed. Now she spurred forward and caught Gordon's arm. "Let him go!--please!" Her anger gone now, sorrow quivering in her voice, she added, "You will, won't you, Ramon?"

His fury, passion, wild jealousy had settled in dark calm. "Yes, I am going _now_. But the next time--." He wheeled and galloped off.

Till the tip of his _sombrero_ vanished behind the ridge Lee watched him go, distress and relief mingling in a wintry smile.

"Don't give him too much of your pity," Gordon consoled. "One disappointment doesn't make much of a dent in such egotism as that. After a while he'll find some pretty señorita to take him at his own valuation."

"I hope so." Her smile brightened. "Though I still feel guilty. But if he hadn't behaved so ridiculously I should feel much worse."

Gordon nodded toward the ridge. "You heard his threat. Do you suppose he'll---"

"Oh no!" Her hair flew in a cloud under her vigorous shake. "After he's had time to cool off he'll forget and forgive. But just to think"--her glance displayed an even mixture of mischief and reproach--"just to think that all this trouble was caused by you kissing that horrid girl!"

"Why--" he gasped, under the sudden attack. "Well, I'll be-- Say! Who drove me to it with her disgraceful flirting?"

"Did it make you feel _awfully_ bad?"

"Did it?" The thought of his miserable unhappiness was still powerful enough to cloud his face, and she noted it with a little quiver of satisfaction. "Let's forget it." Snatching her hand, he worked his horse in against hers and tried to draw her to him. "There's a momentous question I wish to consult you about; one you refused to consider yesterday. Will you--"

But she pulled away. "Not yet. First there's something I want settled. Was it really pique that--made you kiss her?"

He wanted to laugh, but refrained, for under her smile he felt her earnestness. "Nothing else."

"You're sure?"

"Sure!"

"Cross your heart to die?"

He performed that solemn and ancient function, and if she still entertained a doubt she stuffed it away down in consciousness.

"Very well." With a little sigh of content she let her head fall back on his shoulder and a whisper escape from her upturned lips, "Now--you may."

From his covert on the ridge Jake had observed the meeting, talk, struggle, Ramon's retreat, also something which was hidden from the lovers in the valley below--the fact that, after crossing the ridge, Ramon had dismounted, pulled his rifle from the saddle slings, and crawled back on hands and knees to the edge of Jake's covert. By that time the little tilt concerning Felicia was over, and as Lee's head went to Gordon's shoulder Ramon raised the rifle.

A shot at that short distance would have pierced them both, but as Ramon's eye dropped to the sights a sharp order issued from the covert, "Throw up your hands! damn quick!"

A quick, startled glance showed Ramon the lean, grim face through a break in the chaparral. Not for nothing had the _peones_ named Jake "The Python." In moments such as this his lean personality, deadly eye, conveyed that very impression--of a snake coiled to strike. As Ramon's hands went up, he stepped out and, crouching behind the ridge, took the other's rifle and drove him downhill to his horse.

Having extracted the cartridge both from the rifle and from the revolver in Ramon's holster, he threw the weapon at his feet. "I reckon I orter plug you, an' I would for two cents. It'd be set down to raiders, which fixes it very nice. Sure, I reckon I orter do it, but if you've got a few thinks to the contrary spit 'em out."

It was no idle threat. The vicious gleam of the cold gray eye told that. But in place of fear Ramon's face showed almost relief. "Very good, señor. There is nothing you could do that would suit me better."

The cold eye flickered. "Hell! you're too anxious. I couldn't make up my mind to do it that quick--an' there's a few things I wanter find out. For one, what's your idee in wanting to drill them young folks?"

Ramon told--this time without the fireworks.

Jake summed it briefly. "Promised you, then threw you down. That's hard luck. But there's one thing you Mexes can never get into your hot heads--the right of our little American queens to change their pretty minds as often as they damn please without any gent's consent. You was damn lucky that she ever give you a smile. If I conclude to change my mind on plugging you, have it writ up large in your family tree that oncet an American girl let herself be engaged to you for nearly five minutes. Now supposing I refrain from my desire to make you into a corpse, d'you reckon you could keep a promise and not make any attempt on their lives?"

While he was talking Ramon's face had stiffened in defiance. He shook his head. But instead of anger, a small gleam of admiration lit Jake's hard eyes. Raising his gun, he aimed full at the other's breast.

"You have just two minutes to make up your mind."

"One minute!"

For a time it seemed as though he would have to shoot. But just before the time expired, Ramon spoke. "For myself, I do not care. But I have an old father and mother, whom my death would surely kill. I promise."

"All right." Jake dropped the rifle in the hollow of his arm. "I allow that I'm foolish for trusting a Mex, but the little Missy allus liked you. On her account we'll take one chance. Here's your cartridge--only don't load till you're off this range. An' remember"--a cold flash emphasized the order--"after this our boundary is your dead-line. Cross it again--you'll be shot like a panther, coyote, or other varmint."

Returning to his horse, he watched the other mount and ride away. A glance in the opposite direction showed him Lee and Gordon, going hand in hand up the opposite slope. Till they had gained across to the next valley he remained where he was. Then, riding in their rear, with a sharp eye always behind, keeping the width of a valley between them, he followed home.

XXVII: AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE

Riding steadily and hard, Bull made the railroad just as the sun dipped and hung like a smoky lamp on the smoldering horizon. From a distance he had spied Benson leaning in the doorway of the box-car which served the Mexican agent for a telegraph station. The Englishman called to him across the tracks.

"There's a battle pending down the line. Troop-trains have been streaking through all day carrying Valles's reserves from Chihuahua. Don Pedro, here, says another is due to stop for water in half an hour. If we hand the comandante a few compliments, he may take us along."

"Half an hour?" Bull snorted. "That means half the night an' then some. We'll have time for supper an' a sleep."

But for once the railroad went back on all precedents. Just as the crimson tip of the sun slid down behind a black-velvet mountain, the train came puffing in loaded with the usual picturesque rag-and-bobtail of brown soldiers, women, and children clustered like hiving bees on top.