IN WHICH THERE IS MORE THAN ONE LIE TOLD AND THE TRUTH IS GLIMPSED
"You!" cried Kendric in amazement as his look went swiftly from Bruce's
radiant face to Zoraida's and back to Bruce. "With her!"
Young Bruce West advanced eagerly.
"It's been a mistake, Jim," he said earnestly. "A cursed mistake all
along the line. When I explain to you----"
"Boy," cut in Kendric sternly, "where's your head? Don't you know that
she was one of the crowd raiding you? Have you forgotten all I told
you?"
Zoraida, head held high, her cheeks flushed, stood eyeing him
defiantly. The mockery of her look disturbed him; she appeared fully
confident of herself, her destiny and her place in Bruce's estimation.
Bruce himself frowned and shook his head.
"You've always been a fair man, Jim," he said. "Suspend judgment until
we've talked."
While Kendric held his tongue and pondered angrily, Zoraida's eyes
flashed about the room. Only for an instant did they tarry with Betty
who, drawn away from her almost to the table against the wall, looked
back at her with unhidden distrust. Longer did they hold to Ruiz Rios.
"My cousin," she said softly, "you have something to say to me. What
is it?"
"Not here, señorita," urged Rios. "In another room."
Kendric, but not Bruce, saw the deeply significant regard she shot at
Rios. Her answer puzzled Kendric for the moment, not so much the words
as the tone. She spoke to Rios as one might speak to a dreaded master.
"I am ready," was all that she said. And when Rios threw open the door
for her, it was to Bruce that she said gently, her eyes melting into
his, "A moment only, if Señor Rios will permit that I return so soon."
And she went out, Rios at her heels.
"Can't you see, Jim?" Bruce was all excitement and his hands were
clenched at his side; his boyish eyes blazed. "It's that damned Ruiz
Rios! He dictates to her; he has put the fear of death and worse into
her heart. She is made to suffer for all of his crimes!"
"So that's the story?" Kendric grunted his disgust. "And you've let
her stuff you hide-full of lies?"
"Go easy, Jim." Bruce appeared sincerely pained and troubled. "I've
called you a fair man; won't you open your mind to the truth? She has
been misrepresented, I know. Her enemies----" He clenched his hands.
"She is a wonderful creature!" he burst out. "And she has honored me
with her confidence and her friendship."
This very night Zoraida Castelmar had ruthlessly pillaged Bruce's ranch
and from Bruce's mouth now gushed the words: "She has honored me with
her confidence and her friendship!" Was there no end to the woman's
audacity? Was there no end to the blind stupidity of mankind which
permitted of lawlessness like tonight's being glossed over, which went
to the insane extreme of worshiping when normally the logical emotion
would be hatred? Was there finally, no end to the power of Zoraida?
What had happened between Bruce West and Zoraida? Kendric knew
something of Zoraida's bravado, no little of her supreme assurance,
much of her methods. Plainly she had gone straight to Bruce after the
raid. He could see the picture of her coming out of the lurid night
and into the experience of a boy all unnerved by his anger and grief.
He could understand how she offered her softened beauty to the hard
eyes; how her voice had caressed and distorted fact; how Zoraida had
had the wit to tell her own story, make her own impression, before
Bruce could have had time to steel himself against her. But what tale
could she have told to convince a man like Bruce who, at the least, was
not a fool?
Somehow, decided Kendric, she had lied out of the whole thing.
Further, she had used every siren trick she knew to drug his better
judgment. She had been tender and feminine and seductive. While with
one hand she had robbed him, she had caressed him with the other. And
not too boldly; she had not overdone it. She probably wept for him;
she treated him to the flash of her eyes through spurious tears. She
employed her beauty like a lure and had little trouble in putting the
boy's suspicions to sleep. What chance would a simple, open-hearted
fellow like Bruce have against the wiles which were Zoraida's stock in
trade? Kendric recalled vividly that subtle influence which Zoraida
had cast even upon him; which he had felt even when steeled against
her, and asked himself again what chance Bruce could have with her in
the hour of her boldest triumph? The very fact of her having come
immediately on the heels of the catastrophe gave her a look of
innocence. . . . Had Zoraida the trick of hypnosis over men? It began
to look like it.
"Poor old Baby-blue-eyes," muttered Jim. He looked at the boy
wonderingly. Then only did it occur to him that Bruce and Betty Gordon
were strangers to each other and that Bruce, when his sanity should
return to him, would make a desirable friend for Betty. So he said,
turning toward the girl: "Miss Gordon, this is an old friend of mine;
another American, too, Bruce West."
Betty looked her frank interest upon Bruce and her speculation was
obvious: among so many men whom she feared and distrusted she wondered
if here was one of whom any girl might be sure. She put out her hand,
even smiled. But Bruce held stiffly back, his eyes full of accusing
light.
"I have heard of Miss Gordon," he said coolly. "She is also known as
Pansy Blossom, I believe, over in Sonora."
Kendric failed to understand and looked to Betty. Her eyes widened.
Then her cheeks crimsoned.
"Oh!" she gasped. "Mr. West, what do you mean? I have heard of her,
everyone has. She is the most terrible creature!" She shuddered.
"What made you say that?"
Bruce laughed his disbelief of her words and attitude.
"Jim, here, doesn't seem to remember," he said brusquely. "If you'd
been down in Sonora lately, Jim, you'd know all about Pansy Blossom.
She sings rather well, I hear, and dances. It would seem that she has
the makings of a highly successful actress," he concluded meaningly.
Kendric stared at him.
"You mean that Betty Gordon here is some sort of an adventuress?" he
demanded.
For answer Bruce shrugged elaborately and returned Kendric's stare.
Jim looked to Betty again. Her face was stamped in the image of
shocked amazement, she scarcely breathed through her slightly parted
lips.
"You're talking nonsense, Bruce," Jim said emphatically. "Sheer rot.
She's just Betty Gordon and in a peck of trouble. It's up to you and
me, being countrymen of hers, to see her through instead of hurting her
feelings."
Bruce regarded him somberly.
"Old Headlong," he said slowly, "you're just the man to mistake a
woman. You've judged Zoraida Castelmar wrong; you're making a mistake
with Miss Pansy Blossom."
"You fool!" cried Jim angrily. "Where the devil have your wits gone?
You call this child an adventuress? Why, man alive, can't you see
she's just baby?"
"Pansy Blossom's record----" began Bruce.
"Deuce take Pansy Blossom! We're talking about Betty Gordon, this poor
little lost kid here. Who told you that she was the same as that
dancing woman?" Bruce made no answer. "Was it Zoraida Castelmar?"
demanded Kendric. "Tell me. Is that what Zoraida Castelmar had to say
about her?"
"Well?" challenged Bruce. "Suppose it was?"
"What else did she tell you?" Jim had him by the arm now and his eyes
were blazing. "Spit it out, boy. What other rot?"
"It's not rot, Jim. If you'll keep your eyes open and think a little
you'll know as much as I know."
Kendric groaned. "There's a game on foot that has a bad look to it.
Escobar is in it and Rios and--your young lady friend. If you'll give
me a few minutes presently, I'll explain."
"Escobar and Betty Gordon! Why, there's nothing between them but fear
and hatred. Or rather that's all there was; Escobar's lying dead out
there now. Ruiz Rios plugged him square through the heart just now.
And now he's taking _your_ lady friend out to tell her about it! Betty
is their captive, held for ransom, as I told you."
"Or appears to be?" Bruce jerked his arm away and began moving
restlessly up and down, looking always toward the door through which
Zoraida had gone. Kendric turned toward Betty. She had not stirred;
her cheeks were still burning. Apparently she had heard a very great
deal of unsavory report of the lady Bruce mistook her for. Only the
expression in her eyes and about her lips had changed; now it was one
of passionate anger. The look surprised him. He began to think of
Betty in altered terms. She wasn't just the baby he had named her and
she wasn't just the little kid of sixteen he had at first taken her to
be. During the interview with Ruiz Rios he had learned that she had a
mind of her own. To her other possessions he now saw added an American
girl's fiery temper.
Then Zoraida and Rios returned. Before a word was spoken Kendric knew
that he was to be treated to some more play-acting. Zoraida had
elected to look frightened and uncertain; the glance she cast toward
her cousin spoke of terror as well as loathing. Rios glared and looked
important. Swiftly Zoraida crossed the room, her bejeweled fingers
finding Bruce West's arm.
"My friend," she whispered so that they could all hear. "I don't know
which way to turn. A man has killed himself--the Captain Escobar. Or
so Ruiz Rios says. And I----" She broke off, shuddering. And then,
bewildering Jim Kendric if no one else, two big tears gathered in her
eyes and spilled down to her cheeks!
"Señores Kendric and West," announced Rios autocratically, "you will
take all orders from me now. You will not leave the house, either of
you, unless I give the word. Señorita Zoraida, you will go to your
room and wait until I send for you. Señorita Pansy," and suddenly his
teeth showed in his quick smile, "a word with you please in the
_patio_?"
"My cousin," said Zoraida, all soft supplication now, her two hands
held out toward Rios, "it is only a little thing I beg of you. May I
have a few words with Señor West?"
"Go to your room," answered Rios shortly. "Señor West remains with us.
You may see him later."
Zoraida looked lingeringly at Bruce, shook her head sorrowfully as he
appeared to be gathering himself to spring at the man who terrorized
her, murmured gently, "Wait--for my sake, señor!" and went out of the
room. Out of the corners of her oblique eyes, when her back was to
Bruce, she mocked Jim Kendric.
Rios held the door open for Betty.
"Will you come to the _patio_ with me, señorita?" he asked.
"No!" cried Betty. "You terrible man. No."
Rios, though not the actor Zoraida was, managed to appear startled that
she should speak so. Then, as he looked from her to Jim and Bruce, he
smiled as though in comprehension.
"There is no need to pretend further, Señorita Pansy," he said. "They
know."
"There is a great deal we know, Ruiz Rios," broke out Bruce. "You hold
the upper hand just now but there's a new deal coming!"
"Will you come, Señorita Pansy?" Rios grew truculent. "Or shall I call
for a dozen men to escort you?"
"Rios," snapped Kendric, "I'm getting damned tired of this foolishness.
Betty Gordon is a friend of mine and I'm going to see her through. She
goes nowhere she does not want to. If you want to take me on, I'm
ready for you. Ready and waiting!"
"No," said Betty again. "Mr. Kendric, I will go with him as far as the
_patio_." She took a step forward, then whipped back at a sudden
thought. "He is lying out there--dead!" she whispered.
"The unfortunate Captain Escobar," Rios told her equably, "has been
removed to another part of the house. And, if you like, we will speak
together in the dining-room."
Betty came to Jim Kendric then. She looked up into his eyes and said
gently:
"I do trust you. You are the only one I trust. I can look to no one
else. If I want you I will call. And you will come to me, won't you?"
"Come to you? Why, bless your heart, I'd come running!"
So Betty and Rios went out and for a little while Jim and Bruce were
left alone.
"Bruce, old man," said Kendric, "let's come down to earth. Put your
sentimental heart in your pocket and use your brains a while. You know
me well enough to know that I won't lie to you. Will you listen to me?"
"Yes. But tell me only what you know, not what you surmise. What do
you _know_ against Zoraida Castelmar?"
"I know she is an adventuress, playing for big stakes, stakes so big
that in the end they are bound to crush her."
"Speculation, old chap." Bruce smiled faintly. "Keep away from doping
out the future and stick to facts."
"So you want facts? All right: She is planning a revolution; she has
the mad idea that she can rip Lower California away from the government
and make of it a separate empire, herself its queen!"
"Why not? Wilder things have been done. And where would you find a
more likely queen?"
"When I first saw her she came, disguised as a man, into Ortega's
gaming hell, Rios with her. She played dice with me for twenty
thousand dollars."
Bruce's eye brightened.
"She's wonderful!" he said eagerly.
"She's hand and fist with Rios and Escobar and a lot of other riff-raff
I don't know. She is instrumental in Betty Gordon's being held for
ransom----"
"How do you _know_? Or are you just guessing again? Betty Gordon!
How do you _know_ she isn't what I called her, the infamous dancing
woman with an evil record a mile long?"
"Haven't I talked with her?" Kendric grew impatient. "Haven't I seen
her terror? Haven't I looked into her eyes?"
"Haven't I talked with Zoraida?" countered Bruce. "Haven't I heard her
explanations? Haven't I seen her terror of Rios? Haven't I looked
into her eyes?"
"You were burned out tonight. Have you forgotten that? Your herds
were raided. Even old Twisty Barlow, once a square man, followed
Zoraida Castelmar into that! And Zoraida, herself, was one of the
raiders!"
"How do you _know_?" demanded Bruce. And always he laid significant
stress on the word of certainty.
"I saw the horse she rode. I heard the whistle which she wears on a
chain about her throat. I even saw the white plume in her hat."
"Is there only one white horse in Mexico? And only one whistle? And
only one white plume? These things, if it had been Zoraida, she would
have left behind. In the dark you guessed. I am afraid you have
guessed all along the line."
"Then tell me how the devil it came about that Zoraida showed up at
your place? A pretty tall coincidence."
"Nothing of the kind. The whole thing was engineered by Rios. She
overheard a little, guessed it all. Dangerous though the effort was,
she tried to be in time to warn me. She came just too late."
Kendric stared at his friend incredulously. First Barlow, then young
Bruce West drawn from his side and to Zoraida's. She required men, men
of his stamp. And she seemed to have the way of drawing them to her.
He felt utterly baffled; he could at the moment think of no argument
which Bruce's infatuation would not thrust aside. Where he would
depict a heartless, ambitious adventuress Bruce would see a glorified
and heroic superwoman.
Rios came to the door.
"Señor West," he said as they turned expectantly toward him, "Señorita
Zoraida implores so eloquently for word with you that I have consented.
If you will step this way she will come to you."
Bruce required no second invitation. With Rios's words he forgot
Kendric's arguments and Kendric's very presence. He went out, his step
eager. Before Rios followed him Kendric called:
"Where is Miss Gordon?"
"Gone to her room, señor. If you will look at your watch you will note
that it is time."
It was well after midnight and Kendric thought that for all the good he
could do, he, too, might as well go to bed. But he was too stubborn a
man to give up his friend so easily and he hoped that since Bruce was
not a fool he would come in time to see the real Zoraida under the mask
she had donned for his benefit. So he waited, walking up and down.
Zoraida entered so quietly that she was in the room and the door shut
after her before he felt her presence.
"Bruce has gone out that way, looking for you," he said.
"I can see him presently," she answered lightly. "I think he will
wait, don't you?"
"I fancy he will," he returned bitterly. "What do you want with the
boy, Zoraida? What has he done to you that you should ruin him, first
financially and then every other way? Aren't you afraid of what you
are building up for yourself? Men like Barlow and Bruce West may let
you sing their souls to sleep for a little; look out when they wake up!"
She laughed softly.
"I think that all along you have doubted my power," she said, her eyes
steady on his. "Are you beginning to see that Zoraida Castelmar is a
girl to reckon with? You have said that the great things I attempt are
beyond me; have I failed in anything I have tried?"
"To infatuate a man is not the same thing as to build a state!"
"And yet infatuated men make obedient lieutenants."
They grew silent. In each there was much which was of its nature
incomprehensible to the other and which, of necessity, must remain so.
Slowly there came a different look upon the girl's face. Her eyes
softened and were more wistful that he had ever thought they could be.
Her breast rose and fell in a profound sigh. All of the triumph and
mockery went out of her.
"Why are you so unlike other men?" she asked. And her voice, too, had
softened and grown tender.
"What do you mean by that?" he asked.
"Escobar hated me but he would have followed me through fire had I
beckoned. You have seen the look in your friend Barlow's eyes when he
turns to me, and this after only a few days, a few smiles! You
glimpsed just now the love that has sprung up in Bruce West's heart
like a flower full blown. There have been many, many men, my friend,
who have looked upon Zoraida Castelmar as they look. Until you came
there has been no man who turned his head away." Again she sighed
unhiddenly. Her eyes melted into his, yearning, promising, beseeching.
"And to you I have offered what would have made any other man mad with
joy."
He looked into her eyes and it seemed impossible that they could speak
shameless lies. For the moment at least she had the appearance of a
young girl without sophistication, without the skill to hide her
thoughts. Her eyes seemed unusually large, wide open frankly, as
innocent as spring violets. Was she always like this--was this the
real, true Zoraida-- He felt her influence upon him, pervading his
senses like heavy perfume, and spoke hurriedly.
"You and I are different sorts of people," he answered. "Our ideas as
well as our ideals are of different orders."
"And what if I altered?" whispered Zoraida, coming closer to him.
"What it I discarded all of my ideas and ideals. Yes, and my ambitions
with them! What then, Señor Jim Kendric?"
He shook his head and moved restlessly.
"I am no woman's man, you know that. And if I were, you know also that
you are not my kind of woman."
And still no passionate outburst came from Zoraida denied! Rather she
grew more deeply meditative. Almost she seemed saddened and weary.
"Your kind of woman," she mused. And then, in pure jest, "Like
Escobar's captive?"
For some obscure reason after which he did not grope the half sneer of
the words stung Kendric into a sharp retort.
"By heaven, yes!" he cried. "There's the sort of girl for any man to
put his trust in, to give the best that is in him!"
Zoraida gasped. Utter amazement filled her eyes. Then came
incredulity: she would not believe. But when she saw the seriousness
of his eyes, her passion burst out upon him. Her two hands rose and
clenched themselves on her panting breast, her eyes lost their shadow
of amazement and grew brilliant with anger.
"That little baby-faced doll!" she cried. "She has dared make eyes at
you. And you, blind fool that you are, have turned from _me_ to
_her_!" Her voice shook, her whole body trembled visibly, then
stiffened. In a flash all girlish softness was gone; she looked as
cold and cruel as steel. "I had thought to let her go when the ransom
came. Now I shall have other plans for her."
Kendric stared.
"In the first place," he said with an assumption of carelessness, "you
have overshot the mark: Betty Gordon hasn't made eyes at me at all and
I'm not in love with her and have no intentions of being. Next, I fail
to see what has happened that would alter your plans in her regard?"
Zoraida laughed her disbelief.
"Any girl in her place would make eyes at you," she retorted. "And as
for my plans, perhaps you may be allowed to watch the working out of
them! Would you enjoy," she taunted him, "the sight of Betty Gordon in
a steel cage into which we allowed to enter a certain pet of mine?"
At first he did not understand. Then he stared at her speechlessly.
Words of Juanita, spoken fearfully that morning, recurred to him: "She
would give me to her cat, her terrible, terrible cat, to play with!"
He opened his mouth to lift his voice in hot protest; then he bit back
the words, savagely calling himself a fool for the mad thought. Even
to Zoraida's lawlessness there must be a limit; even the cold cruelty
looking out of her oblique eyes now could not carry her so far. And
yet the laugh with which he answered her was a trifle shaky.
"We are talking nonsense," he said abruptly. "And Bruce is expecting
you. When you finish distorting facts for his consumption I'd like a
word with him."
Zoraida's face went white.
"It is in my heart," she said in a dry whisper, "to give orders that
you will never see another sun rise!"
"Give your orders then," he snapped. "I'm sick of things as they are.
Send in a gang of your cutthroats and I'll give you my word I'd rather
fight my way through them than stand by and watch you poison honest
men's souls."
She stepped across the room and put out her hand as though to the bell
on the table. Kendric watched her sternly. She stopped and looked at
him wonderingly. Suddenly she dropped her hand to her side and with
the gesture came a swift alteration in her expression. A strange smile
molded her lips, an inscrutable look dawned in the dark eyes.
"I knew already that you were a brave man, Jim Kendric," she said. "I
was forgetting, losing all clear thought because a man had dismissed me
from his presence? Well, of that, more another time. But brave men I
need, brave men I must have in that which comes soon. If there is not
one way, then there will be another to draw you to my side."
She was going out but stopped as they heard horses in the yard. She
stood still, waiting. Presently there came an unsteady step at the
front door. A hand fumbled, the door opened and Twisty Barlow entered.
His arm was in a sling, a bandage bound his forehead, his eyes shone
feverishly. He stopped on the threshold and stared at them. Kendric
spoke quickly.
"Twisty," he said, "do you know who shot you?"
Barlow merely shook his head.
"I did. I was at Bruce's. I did not know you but----"
"But you'd have shot just the same, anyway?" grunted Barlow.
"You got yourself into damned bad company, Barlow. But that's your
affair. Just tell me one thing: Was it not at Zoraida Castelmar's
orders that you went?"
Barlow's look shifted for an instant to Zoraida's half smiling face.
But his hesitation was brief.
"No," he said shortly.
An hour later Kendric gave up waiting for Bruce and went off to his
bedroom. On his table were two letters in their envelopes. They were
the letters he and Bruce had written, telling of Betty Gordon's
captivity.