NO word from George Thorne had come to Forlorn River in weeks. Gale
grew concerned over the fact, and began to wonder if anything serious
could have happened to him. Mercedes showed a slow, wearing strain.
Thorne's commission expired the end of January, and if he could not get
his discharge immediately, he surely could obtain leave of absence.
Therefore, Gale waited, not without growing anxiety, and did his best
to cheer Mercedes. The first of February came bringing news of rebel
activities and bandit operations in and around Casita, but not a word
from the cavalryman.
Mercedes became silent, mournful. Her eyes were great black windows of
tragedy. Nell devoted herself entirely to the unfortunate girl; Dick
exerted himself to persuade her that all would yet come well; in fact,
the whole household could not have been kinder to a sister or a
daughter. But their united efforts were unavailing. Mercedes seemed
to accept with fatalistic hopelessness a last and crowning misfortune.
A dozen times Gale declared he would ride in to Casita and find out why
they did not hear from Thorne; however, older and wiser heads prevailed
over his impetuosity. Belding was not sanguine over the safety of the
Casita trail. Refugees from there arrived every day in Forlorn River,
and if tales they told were true, real war would have been preferable
to what was going on along the border. Belding and the rangers and the
Yaqui held a consultation. Not only had the Indian become a faithful
servant to Gale, but he was also of value to Belding. Yaqui had all
the craft of his class, and superior intelligence. His knowledge of
Mexicans was second only to his hate of them. And Yaqui, who had been
scouting on all the trails, gave information that made Belding decide
to wait some days before sending any one to Casita. He required
promises from his rangers, particularly Gale, not to leave without his
consent.
It was upon Gale's coming from this conference that he encountered
Nell. Since the interrupted siesta episode she had been more than
ordinarily elusive, and about all he had received from her was a
tantalizing smile from a distance. He got the impression now, however,
that she had awaited him. When he drew close to her he was certain of
it, and he experienced more than surprise.
"Dick," she began, hurriedly. "Dad's not going to send any one to see
about Thorne?"
"No, not yet. He thinks it best not to. We all think so. I'm sorry.
Poor Mercedes!"
"I knew it. I tried to coax him to send Laddy or even Yaqui. He
wouldn't listen to me. Dick, Mercedes is dying by inches. Can't you
see what ails her? It's more than love or fear. It's
uncertainty--suspense. Oh, can't we find out for her?"
"Nell, I feel as badly as you about her. I wanted to ride in to
Casita. Belding shut me up quick, the last time."
Nell came close to Gale, clasped his arm. There was no color in her
face. Her eyes held a dark, eager excitement.
"Dick, will you slip off without Dad's consent? Risk it! Go to Casita
and find out what's happened to Thorne--at least if he ever started for
Forlorn River?"
"No, Nell, I won't do that."
She drew away from him with passionate suddenness.
"Are you afraid?"
This certainly was not the Nell Burton that Gale knew.
"No, I'm not afraid," Gale replied, a little nettled.
"Will you go--for my sake?" Like lightning her mood changed and she
was close to him again, hands on his, her face white, her whole
presence sweetly alluring.
"Nell, I won't disobey Belding," protested Gale. "I won't break my
word."
"Dick, it'll not be so bad as that. But--what if it is?... Go, Dick,
if not for poor Mercedes's sake, then for mine--to please me.
I'll--I'll... you won't lose anything by going. I think I know how
Mercedes feels. Just a word from Thorne or about him would save her.
Take Blanco Sol and go, Dick. What rebel outfit could ever ride you
down on that horse? Why, Dick, if I was up on Sol I wouldn't be afraid
of the whole rebel army."
"My dear girl, it's not a question of being afraid. It's my word--my
duty to Belding."
"You said you loved me. If you love me you will go... You don't love
me!"
Gale could only stare at this transformed girl.
"Dick, listen!... If you go--if you fetch some word of Thorne to
comfort Mercedes, you--well, you will have your reward."
"Nell!"
Her dangerous sweetness was as amazing as this newly revealed character.
"Dick, will you go?"
"No-no!" cried Gale, in violence, struggling with himself. "Nell
Burton, I'll tell you this. To have the reward I want would mean
pretty near heaven for me. But not even for that will I break my word
to your father."
She seemed the incarnation of girlish scorn and wilful passion.
"Gracias, senor," she replied, mockingly. "Adios." Then she flashed
out of his sight.
Gale went to his room at once, disturbed and thrilling, and did not
soon recover from that encounter.
The following morning at the breakfast table Nell was not present. Mrs.
Belding evidently considered the fact somewhat unusual, for she called
out into the patio and then into the yard. Then she went to Mercedes's
room. But Nell was not there, either.
"She's in one of her tantrums lately," said Belding. "Wouldn't speak
to me this morning. Let her alone, mother. She's spoiled enough,
without running after her. She's always hungry. She'll be on hand
presently, don't mistake me."
Notwithstanding Belding's conviction, which Gale shared, Nell did not
appear at all during the hour. When Belding and the rangers went
outside, Yaqui was eating his meal on the bench where he always sat.
"Yaqui--Lluvia d' oro, si?" asked Belding, waving his hand toward the
corrals. The Indian's beautiful name for Nell meant "shower of gold,"
and Belding used it in asking Yaqui if he had seen her. He received a
negative reply.
Perhaps half an hour afterward, as Gale was leaving his room, he saw
the Yaqui running up the path from the fields. It was markedly out of
the ordinary to see the Indian run. Gale wondered what was the matter.
Yaqui ran straight to Belding, who was at work at his bench under the
wagon shed. In less than a moment Belding was bellowing for his
rangers. Gale got to him first, but Ladd and Lash were not far behind.
"Blanco Sol gone!" yelled Belding, in a rage.
"Gone? In broad daylight, with the Indian a-watch-in?" queried Ladd.
"It happened while Yaqui was at breakfast. That's sure. He'd just
watered Sol."
"Raiders!" exclaimed Jim Lash.
"Lord only knows. Yaqui says it wasn't raiders."
"Mebbe Sol's just walked off somewheres."
"He was haltered in the corral."
"Send Yaqui to find the hoss's trail, an' let's figger," said Ladd.
"Shore this 's no raider job."
In the swift search that ensued Gale did not have anything to say; but
his mind was forming a conclusion. When he found his old saddle and
bridle missing from the peg in the barn his conclusion became a
positive conviction, and it made him, for the moment, cold and sick and
speechless.
"Hey, Dick, don't take it so much to heart," said Belding. "We'll
likely find Sol, and if we don't, there's other good horses."
"I'm not thinking of Sol," replied Gale.
Ladd cast a sharp glance at Gale, snapped his fingers, and said:
"Damn me if I ain't guessed it, too!"
"What's wrong with you locoed gents?" bluntly demanded Belding.
"Nell has slipped away on Sol," answered Dick.
There was a blank pause, which presently Belding broke.
"Well, that's all right, if Nell's on him. I was afraid we'd lost the
horse."
"Belding, you're trackin' bad," said Ladd, wagging his head.
"Nell has started for Casita," burst out Gale. "She has gone to fetch
Mercedes some word about Thorne. Oh, Belding, you needn't shake your
head. I know she's gone. She tried to persuade me to go, and was
furious when I wouldn't."
"I don't believe it," replied Belding, hoarsely. "Nell may have her
temper. She's a little devil at times, but she always had good sense."
"Tom, you can gamble she's gone," said Ladd.
"Aw, hell, no! Jim, what do you think?" implored Belding.
"I reckon Sol's white head is pointed level an' straight down the
Casita trail. An' Nell can ride. We're losing' time."
That roused Belding to action.
"I say you're all wrong," he yelled, starting for the corrals. "She's
only taking a little ride, same as she's done often. But rustle now.
Find out. Dick, you ride cross the valley. Jim, you hunt up and down
the river. I'll head up San Felipe way. And you, Laddy, take Diablo
and hit the Casita trail. If she really has gone after Thorne you can
catch her in an hour or so."
"Shore I'll go," replied Ladd. "But, Beldin', if you're not plumb
crazy you're close to it. That big white devil can't catch Sol. Not in
an hour or a day or a week! What's more, at the end of any runnin'
time, with an even start, Sol will be farther in the lead. An' now
Sol's got an hour's start."
"Laddy, you mean to say Sol is a faster horse than Diablo?" thundered
Belding, his face purple.
"Shore. I mean to tell you just that there," replied the ranger.
"I'll--I'll bet a--"
"We're wastin' time," curtly interrupted Ladd. "You can gamble on this
if you want to. I'll ride your Blanco Devil as he never was rid
before, 'cept once when a damn sight better hossman than I am couldn't
make him outrun Sol."
Without more words the men saddled and were off, not waiting for the
Yaqui to come in with possible information as to what trail Blanco Sol
had taken. It certainly did not show in the clear sand of the level
valley where Gale rode to and fro. When Gale returned to the house he
found Belding and Lash awaiting him. They did not mention their own
search, but stated that Yaqui had found Blanco Sol's tracks in the
Casita trail. After some consultation Belding decided to send Lash
along after Ladd.
The interminable time that followed contained for Gale about as much
suspense as he could well bear. What astonished him and helped him
greatly to fight off actual distress was the endurance of Nell's mother.
Early on the morning of the second day, Gale, who had acquired an
unbreakable habit of watching, saw three white horses and a bay come
wearily stepping down the road. He heard Blanco Sol's familiar
whistle, and he leaped up wild with joy. The horse was riderless.
Gale's sudden joy received a violent check, then resurged when he saw a
limp white form in Jim Lash's arms. Ladd was supporting a horseman who
wore a military uniform.
Gale shouted with joy and ran into the house to tell the good news. It
was the ever-thoughtful Mrs. Belding who prevented him from rushing in
to tell Mercedes. Then he hurried out into the yard, closely followed
by the Beldings.
Lash handed down a ragged, travel-stained, wan girl into Belding's arms.
"Dad! Mama!"
It was indeed a repentant Nell, but there was spirit yet in the tired
blue eyes. Then she caught sight of Gale and gave him a faint smile.
"Hello--Dick."
"Nell!" Gale reached for her hand, held it tightly, and found speech
difficult.
"You needn't worry--about your old horse," she said, as Belding carried
her toward the door. "Oh, Dick! Blanco Sol is--glorious!"
Gale turned to greet his friend. Indeed, it was but a haggard ghost of
the cavalryman. Thorne looked ill or wounded. Gale's greeting was
also a question full of fear.
Thorne's answer was a faint smile. He seemed ready to drop from the
saddle. Gale helped Ladd hold Thorne upon the horse until they reached
the house. Belding came out again. His welcome was checked as he saw
the condition of the cavalryman. Thorne reeled into Dick's arms. But
he was able to stand and walk.
"I'm not--hurt. Only weak--starved," he said. "Is Mercedes-- Take me
to her."
"She'll be well the minute she sees him," averred Belding, as he and
Gale led the cavalryman to Mercedes's room. There they left him; and
Gale, at least, felt his ears ringing with the girl's broken cry of joy.
When Belding and Gale hurried forth again the rangers were tending the
tired horses. Upon returning to the house Jim Lash calmly lit his
pipe, and Ladd declared that, hungry as he was, he had to tell his
story.
"Shore, Beldin'," began Ladd, "that was funny about Diablo catchin'
Blanco Sol. Funny ain't the word. I nearly laughed myself to death.
Well, I rode in Sol's tracks all the way to Casita. Never seen a rebel
or a raider till I got to town. Figgered Nell made the trip in five
hours. I went straight to the camp of the cavalrymen, an' found them
just coolin' off an' dressin' down their hosses after what looked to me
like a big ride. I got there too late for the fireworks.
"Some soldier took me to an officer's tent. Nell was there, some white
an' all in. She just said, 'Laddy!' Thorne was there, too, an' he was
bein' worked over by the camp doctor. I didn't ask no questions,
because I seen quiet was needed round that tent. After satisfying
myself that Nell was all right, an' Thorne in no danger, I went out.
"Shore there was so darn many fellers who wanted to an' tried to tell
me what'd come off, I thought I'd never find out. But I got the story
piece by piece. An' here's what happened.
"Nell rode Blanco Sol a-tearin' into camp, an' had a crowd round her in
a jiffy. She told who she was, where she'd come from, an' what she
wanted. Well, it seemed a day or so before Nell got there the
cavalrymen had heard word of Thorne. You see, Thorne had left camp on
leave of absence some time before. He was shore mysterious, they said,
an' told nobody where he was goin'. A week or so after he left camp
some Greaser give it away that Rojas had a prisoner in a dobe shack
near his camp. Nobody paid much attention to what the Greaser said.
He wanted money for mescal. An' it was usual for Rojas to have
prisoners. But in a few more days it turned out pretty sure that for
some reason Rojas was holdin' Thorne.
"Now it happened when this news came Colonel Weede was in Nogales with
his staff, an' the officer left in charge didn't know how to proceed.
Rojas's camp was across the line in Mexico, an' ridin' over there was
serious business. It meant a whole lot more than just scatterin' one
Greaser camp. It was what had been botherin' more'n one colonel along
the line. Thorne's feller soldiers was anxious to get him out of a bad
fix, but they had to wait for orders.
"When Nell found out Thorne was bein' starved an' beat in a dobe shack
no more'n two mile across the line, she shore stirred up that cavalry
camp. Shore! She told them soldiers Rojas was holdin'
Thorne--torturin' him to make him tell where Mercedes was. She told
about Mercedes--how sweet an' beautiful she was--how her father had
been murdered by Rojas--how she had been hounded by the bandit--how ill
an' miserable she was, waitin' for her lover. An' she begged the
cavalrymen to rescue Thorne.
"From the way it was told to me I reckon them cavalrymen went up in the
air. Fine, fiery lot of young bloods, I thought, achin' for a scrap.
But the officer in charge, bein' in a ticklish place, still held out
for higher orders.
"Then Nell broke loose. You-all know Nell's tongue is sometimes like a
choya thorn. I'd have give somethin' to see her work up that soldier
outfit. Nell's never so pretty as when she's mad. An' this last stunt
of hers was no girly tantrum, as Beldin' calls it. She musta been
ragin' with all the hell there's in a woman.... Can't you fellers see
her on Blanco Sol with her eyes turnin' black?"
Ladd mopped his sweaty face with his dusty scarf. He was beaming. He
was growing excited, hurried in his narrative.
"Right out then Nell swore she'd go after Thorne. If them cavalrymen
couldn't ride with a Western girl to save a brother American--let them
hang back! One feller, under orders, tried to stop Blanco Sol. An'
that feller invited himself to the hospital. Then the cavalrymen went
flyin' for their hosses. Mebbe Nell's move was just foxy--woman's
cunnin'. But I'm thinkin' as she felt then she'd have sent Blanco Sol
straight into Rojas's camp, which, I'd forgot to say, was in plain
sight.
"It didn't take long for every cavalryman in that camp to get wind of
what was comin' off. Shore they musta been wild. They strung out
after Nell in a thunderin' troop.
"Say, I wish you fellers could see the lane that bunch of hosses left
in the greasewood an' cactus. Looks like there'd been a cattle
stampede on the desert.... Blanco Sol stayed out in front, you can
gamble on that. Right into Rojas's camp! Sabe, you senors? Gawd
Almighty! I never had grief that 'd hold a candle to this one of bein'
too late to see Nell an' Sol in their one best race.
"Rojas an' his men vamoosed without a shot. That ain't surprisin'.
There wasn't a shot fired by anybody. The cavalrymen soon found Thorne
an' hurried with him back on Uncle Sam's land. Thorne was half naked,
black an' blue all over, thin as a rail. He looked mighty sick when I
seen him first. That was a little after midday. He was given food an'
drink. Shore he seemed a starved man. But he picked up wonderful, an'
by the time Jim came along he was wantin' to start for Forlorn River.
So was Nell. By main strength as much as persuasion we kept the two of
them quiet till next evenin' at dark.
"Well, we made as sneaky a start in the dark as Jim an' me could
manage, an' never hit the trail till we was miles from town. Thorne's
nerve held him up for a while. Then all at once he tumbled out of his
saddle. We got him back, an' Lash held him on. Nell didn't give out
till daybreak."
As Ladd paused in his story Belding began to stutter, and finally he
exploded. His mighty utterances were incoherent. But plainly the
wrath he had felt toward the wilful girl was forgotten. Gale remained
gripped by silence.
"I reckon you'll all be some surprised when you see Casita," went on
Ladd. "It's half burned an' half tore down. An' the rebels are livin'
fat. There was rumors of another federal force on the road from Casa
Grandes. I seen a good many Americans from interior Mexico, an' the
stories they told would make your hair stand up. They all packed guns,
was fightin' mad at Greasers, an' sore on the good old U. S. But shore
glad to get over the line! Some were waitin' for trains, which don't
run reg'lar no more, an' others were ready to hit the trails north."
"Laddy, what knocks me is Rojas holding Thorne prisoner, trying to make
him tell where Mercedes had been hidden," said Belding.
"Shore. It 'd knock anybody."
"The bandit's crazy over her. That's the Spanish of it," replied
Belding, his voice rolling. "Rojas is a peon. He's been a slave to
the proud Castilian. He loves Mercedes as he hates her. When I was
down in Durango I saw something of these peons' insane passions. Rojas
wants this girl only to have her, then kill her. It's damn strange,
boys, and even with Thorne here our troubles have just begun."
"Tom, you spoke correct," said Jim Ladd, in his cool drawl.
"Shore I'm not sayin' what I think," added Ladd. But the look of him
was not indicative of a tranquil optimism.
Thorne was put to bed in Gale's room. He was very weak, yet he would
keep Mercedes's hand and gaze at her with unbelieving eyes. Mercedes's
failing hold on hope and strength seemed to have been a fantasy; she
was again vivid, magnetic, beautiful, shot through and through with
intense and throbbing life. She induced him to take food and drink.
Then, fighting sleep with what little strength he had left, at last he
succumbed.
For all Dick could ascertain his friend never stirred an eyelash nor a
finger for twenty-seven hours. When he awoke he was pale, weak, but
the old Thorne.
"Hello, Dick; I didn't dream it then," he said. "There you are, and my
darling with the proud, dark eyes--she's here?"
"Why, yes, you locoed cavalryman."
"Say, what's happened to you? It can't be those clothes and a little
bronze on your face.... Dick, you're older--you've changed. You're not
so thickly built. By Gad, if you don't look fine!"
"Thanks. I'm sorry I can't return the compliment. You're about the
seediest, hungriest-looking fellow I ever saw.... Say, old man, you
must have had a tough time."
A dark and somber fire burned out the happiness in Thorne's eyes.
"Dick, don't make me--don't let me think of that fiend Rojas!.... I'm
here now. I'll be well in a day or two. Then!..."
Mercedes came in, radiant and soft-voiced. She fell upon her knees
beside Thorne's bed, and neither of them appeared to see Nell enter
with a tray. Then Gale and Nell made a good deal of unnecessary bustle
in moving a small table close to the bed. Mercedes had forgotten for
the moment that her lover had been a starving man. If Thorne remembered
it he did not care. They held hands and looked at each other without
speaking.
"Nell, I thought I had it bad," whispered Dick. "But I'm not--"
"Hush. It's beautiful," replied Nell, softly; and she tried to coax
Dick from the room.
Dick, however, thought he ought to remain at least long enough to tell
Thorne that a man in his condition could not exist solely upon love.
Mercedes sprang up blushing with pretty, penitent manner and moving
white hands eloquent of her condition.
"Oh, Mercedes--don't go!" cried Thorne, as she stepped to the door.
"Senor Dick will stay. He is not mucha malo for you--as I am."
Then she smiled and went out.
"Good Lord!" exclaimed Thorne. "How I love her. Dick, isn't she the
most beautiful, the loveliest, the finest--"
"George, I share your enthusiasm," said Dick, dryly, "but Mercedes
isn't the only girl on earth."
Manifestly this was a startling piece of information, and struck Thorne
in more than one way.
"George," went on Dick, "did you happen to observe the girl who saved
your life--who incidentally just fetched in your breakfast?"
"Nell Burton! Why, of course. She's brave, a wonderful girl, and
really nice-looking."
"You long, lean, hungry beggar! That was the young lady who might
answer the raving eulogy you just got out of your system.... I--well,
you haven't cornered the love market!"
Thorne uttered some kind of a sound that his weakened condition would
not allow to be a whoop.
"Dick! Do you mean it?"
"I shore do, as Laddy says."
"I'm glad, Dick, with all my heart. I wondered at the changed look you
wear. Why, boy, you've got a different front.... Call the lady in, and
you bet I'll look her over right. I can see better now."
"Eat your breakfast. There's plenty of time to dazzle you afterward."
Thorne fell to upon his breakfast and made it vanish with magic speed.
Meanwhile Dick told him something of a ranger's life along the border.
"You needn't waste your breath," said Thorne. "I guess I can see.
Belding and those rangers have made you the real thing--the real
Western goods.... What I want to know is all about the girl."
"Well, Laddy swears she's got your girl roped in the corral for looks."
"That's not possible. I'll have to talk to Laddy.... But she must be a
wonder, or Dick Gale would never have fallen for her.... Isn't it
great, Dick? I'm here! Mercedes is well--safe! You've got a girl!
Oh!.... But say, I haven't a dollar to my name. I had a lot of money,
Dick, and those robbers stole it, my watch--everything. Damn that
little black Greaser! He got Mercedes's letters. I wish you could
have seen him trying to read them. He's simply nutty over her, Dick.
I could have borne the loss of money and valuables--but those
beautiful, wonderful letters--they're gone!"
"Cheer up. You have the girl. Belding will make you a proposition
presently. The future smiles, old friend. If this rebel business was
only ended!"
"Dick, you're going to be my savior twice over.... Well, now, listen to
me." His gay excitement changed to earnest gravity. "I want to marry
Mercedes at once. Is there a padre here?"
"Yes. But are you wise in letting any Mexican, even a priest, know
Mercedes is hidden in Forlorn River?"
"It couldn't be kept much longer."
Gale was compelled to acknowledge the truth of this statement.
"I'll marry her first, then I'll face my problem. Fetch the padre,
Dick. And ask our kind friends to be witnesses at the ceremony."
Much to Gale's surprise neither Belding nor Ladd objected to the idea
of bringing a padre into the household, and thereby making known to at
least one Mexican the whereabouts of Mercedes Castaneda. Belding's
caution was wearing out in wrath at the persistent unsettled condition
of the border, and Ladd grew only the cooler and more silent as
possibilities of trouble multiplied.
Gale fetched the padre, a little, weazened, timid man who was old and
without interest or penetration. Apparently he married Mercedes and
Thorne as he told his beads or mumbled a prayer. It was Mrs. Belding
who kept the occasion from being a merry one, and she insisted on not
exciting Thorne. Gale marked her unusual pallor and the singular depth
and sweetness of her voice.
"Mother, what's the use of making a funeral out of a marriage?"
protested Belding. "A chance for some fun doesn't often come to
Forlorn River. You're a fine doctor. Can't you see the girl is what
Thorne needed? He'll be well to-morrow, don't mistake me."
"George, when you're all right again we'll add something to present
congratulations," said Gale.
"We shore will," put in Ladd.
So with parting jests and smiles they left the couple to themselves.
Belding enjoyed a laugh at his good wife's expense, for Thorne could
not be kept in bed, and all in a day, it seemed, he grew so well and so
hungry that his friends were delighted, and Mercedes was radiant. In a
few days his weakness disappeared and he was going the round of the
fields and looking over the ground marked out in Gale's plan of water
development. Thorne was highly enthusiastic, and at once staked out
his claim for one hundred and sixty acres of land adjoining that of
Belding and the rangers. These five tracts took in all the ground
necessary for their operations, but in case of the success of the
irrigation project the idea was to increase their squatter holdings by
purchase of more land down the valley. A hundred families had lately
moved to Forlorn River; more were coming all the time; and Belding
vowed he could see a vision of the whole Altar Valley green with farms.
Meanwhile everybody in Belding's household, except the quiet Ladd and
the watchful Yaqui, in the absence of disturbance of any kind along the
border, grew freer and more unrestrained, as if anxiety was slowly
fading in the peace of the present. Jim Lash made a trip to the
Sonoyta Oasis, and Ladd patrolled fifty miles of the line eastward
without incident or sight of raiders. Evidently all the border hawks
were in at the picking of Casita.
The February nights were cold, with a dry, icy, penetrating coldness
that made a warm fire most comfortable. Belding's household usually
congregated in the sitting-room, where burning mesquite logs crackled
in the open fireplace. Belding's one passion besides horses was the
game of checkers, and he was always wanting to play. On this night he
sat playing with Ladd, who never won a game and never could give up
trying. Mrs. Belding worked with her needle, stopping from time to
time to gaze with thoughtful eyes into the fire. Jim Lash smoked his
pipe by the hearth and played with the cat on his knee. Thorne and
Mercedes were at the table with pencil and paper; and he was trying his
best to keep his attention from his wife's beautiful, animated face
long enough to read and write a little Spanish. Gale and Nell sat in a
corner watching the bright fire.
There came a low knock on the door. It may have been an ordinary
knock, for it did not disturb the women; but to Belding and his rangers
it had a subtle meaning.
"Who's that?" asked Belding, as he slowly pushed back his chair and
looked at Ladd.
"Yaqui," replied the ranger.
"Come in," called Belding.
The door opened, and the short, square, powerfully built Indian
entered. He had a magnificent head, strangely staring, somber black
eyes, and very darkly bronzed face. He carried a rifle and strode with
impressive dignity.
"Yaqui, what do you want?" asked Belding, and repeated his question in
Spanish.
"Senor Dick," replied the Indian.
Gale jumped up, stifling an exclamation, and he went outdoors with
Yaqui. He felt his arm gripped, and allowed himself to be led away
without asking a question. Yaqui's presence was always one of gloom,
and now his stern action boded catastrophe. Once clear of trees he
pointed to the level desert across the river, where a row of campfires
shone bright out of the darkness.
"Raiders!" ejaculated Gale.
Then he cautioned Yaqui to keep sharp lookout, and, hurriedly returning
to the house, he called the men out and told them there were rebels or
raiders camping just across the line.
Ladd did not say a word. Belding, with an oath, slammed down his cigar.
"I knew it was too good to last.... Dick, you and Jim stay here while
Laddy and I look around."
Dick returned to the sitting-room. The women were nervous and not to
be deceived. So Dick merely said Yaqui had sighted some lights off in
the desert, and they probably were campfires. Belding did not soon
return, and when he did he was alone, and, saying he wanted to consult
with the men, he sent Mrs. Belding and the girls to their rooms. His
gloomy anxiety had returned.
"Laddy's gone over to scout around and try to find out who the outfit
belongs to and how many are in it," said Belding.
"I reckon if they're raiders with bad intentions we wouldn't see no
fires," remarked Jim, calmly.
"It 'd be useless, I suppose, to send for the cavalry," said Gale.
"Whatever's coming off would be over before the soldiers could be
notified, let alone reach here."
"Hell, fellows! I don't look for an attack on Forlorn River," burst
out Belding. "I can't believe that possible. These rebel-raiders have
a little sense. They wouldn't spoil their game by pulling U. S.
soldiers across the line from Yuma to El Paso. But, as Jim says, if
they wanted to steal a few horses or cattle they wouldn't build fires.
I'm afraid it's--"
Belding hesitated and looked with grim concern at the cavalryman.
"What?" queried Thorne.
"I'm afraid it's Rojas."
Thorne turned pale but did not lose his nerve.
"I thought of that at once. If true, it'll be terrible for Mercedes
and me. But Rojas will never get his hands on my wife. If I can't
kill him, I'll kill her!... Belding, this is tough on you--this risk we
put upon your family. I regret--"
"Cut that kind of talk," replied Belding, bluntly. "Well, if it is
Rojas he's acting damn strange for a raider. That's what worries me.
We can't do anything but wait. With Laddy and Yaqui out there we won't
be surprised. Let's take the best possible view of the situation until
we know more. That'll not likely be before to-morrow."
The women of the house might have gotten some sleep that night, but it
was certain the men did not get any. Morning broke cold and gray, the
19th of February. Breakfast was prepared earlier than usual, and an
air of suppressed waiting excitement pervaded the place. Otherwise the
ordinary details of the morning's work continued as on any other day.
Ladd came in hungry and cold, and said the Mexicans were not breaking
camp. He reported a good-sized force of rebels, and was taciturn as to
his idea of forthcoming events.
About an hour after sunrise Yaqui ran in with the information that part
of the rebels were crossing the river.
"That can't mean a fight yet," declared Belding. "But get in the
house, boys, and make ready anyway. I'll meet them."
"Drive them off the place same as if you had a company of soldiers
backin' you," said Ladd. "Don't give them an inch. We're in bad, and
the bigger bluff we put up the more likely our chance."
"Belding, you're an officer of the United States. Mexicans are much
impressed by show of authority. I've seen that often in camp," said
Thorne.
"Oh, I know the white-livered Greasers better than any of you, don't
mistake me," replied Belding. He was pale with rage, but kept command
over himself.
The rangers, with Yaqui and Thorne, stationed themselves at the several
windows of the sitting-room. Rifles and smaller arms and boxes of
shells littered the tables and window seats. No small force of
besiegers could overcome a resistance such as Belding and his men were
capable of making.
"Here they come, boys," called Gale, from his window.
"Rebel-raiders I should say, Laddy."
"Shore. An' a fine outfit of buzzards!"
"Reckon there's about a dozen in the bunch," observed the calm Lash.
"Some hosses they're ridin'. Where 'n the hell do they get such
hosses, anyhow?"
"Shore, Jim, they work hard an' buy 'em with real silver pesos,"
replied Ladd, sarcastically.
"Do any of you see Rojas?" whispered Thorne.
"Nix. No dandy bandit in that outfit."
"It's too far to see," said Gale.
The horsemen halted at the corrals. They were orderly and showed no
evidence of hostility. They were, however, fully armed. Belding
stalked out to meet them. Apparently a leader wanted to parley with
him, but Belding would hear nothing. He shook his head, waved his
arms, stamped to and fro, and his loud, angry voice could be heard
clear back at the house. Whereupon the detachment of rebels retired to
the bank of the river, beyond the white post that marked the boundary
line, and there they once more drew rein. Belding remained by the
corrals watching them, evidently still in threatening mood. Presently a
single rider left the troop and trotted his horse back down the road.
When he reached the corrals he was seen to halt and pass something to
Belding. Then he galloped away to join his comrades.
Belding looked at whatever it was he held in his hand, shook his burley
head, and started swiftly for the house. He came striding into the
room holding a piece of soiled paper.
"Can't read it and don't know as I want to," he said, savagely.
"Beldin', shore we'd better read it," replied Ladd. "What we want is a
line on them Greasers. Whether they're Campo's men or Salazar's, or
just a wanderin' bunch of rebels--or Rojas's bandits. Sabe, senor?"
Not one of the men was able to translate the garbled scrawl.
"Shore Mercedes can read it," said Ladd.
Thorne opened a door and called her. She came into the room followed
by Nell and Mrs. Belding. Evidently all three divined a critical
situation.
"My dear, we want you to read what's written on this paper," said
Thorne, as he led her to the table. "It was sent in by rebels,
and--and we fear contains bad news for us."
Mercedes gave the writing one swift glance, then fainted in Thorne's
arms. He carried her to a couch, and with Nell and Mrs. Belding began
to work over her.
Belding looked at his rangers. It was characteristic of the man that,
now when catastrophe appeared inevitable, all the gloom and care and
angry agitation passed from him.
"Laddy, it's Rojas all right. How many men has he out there?"
"Mebbe twenty. Not more."
"We can lick twice that many Greasers."
"Shore."
Jim Lash removed his pipe long enough to speak.
"I reckon. But it ain't sense to start a fight when mebbe we can avoid
it."
"What's your idea?"
"Let's stave the Greaser off till dark. Then Laddy an' me an' Thorne
will take Mercedes an' hit the trail for Yuma."
"Camino del Diablo! That awful trail with a woman! Jim, do you forget
how many hundreds of men have perished on the Devil's Road?"
"I reckon I ain't forgettin' nothin'," replied Jim. "The waterholes
are full now. There's grass, an' we can do the job in six days."
"It's three hundred miles to Yuma."
"Beldin', Jim's idea hits me pretty reasonable," interposed Ladd. "Lord
knows that's about the only chance we've got except fightin'."
"But suppose we do stave Rojas off, and you get safely away with
Mercedes. Isn't Rojas going to find it out quick? Then what'll he try
to do to us who're left here?"
"I reckon he'd find out by daylight," replied Jim. "But, Tom, he ain't
agoin' to start a scrap then. He'd want time an' hosses an' men to
chase us out on the trail. You see, I'm figgerin' on the crazy Greaser
wantin' the girl. I reckon he'll try to clean up here to get her. But
he's too smart to fight you for nothin'. Rojas may be nutty about
women, but he's afraid of the U. S. Take my word for it he'd discover
the trail in the mornin' an' light out on it. I reckon with ten hours'
start we could travel comfortable."
Belding paced up and down the room. Jim and Ladd whispered together.
Gale walked to the window and looked out at the distant group of
bandits, and then turned his gaze to rest upon Mercedes. She was
conscious now, and her eyes seemed all the larger and blacker for the
whiteness of her face. Thorne held her hands, and the other women were
trying to still her tremblings.
No one but Gale saw the Yaqui in the background looking down upon the
Spanish girl. All of Yaqui's looks were strange; but this singularly
so. Gale marked it, and felt he would never forget. Mercedes's beauty
had never before struck him as being so exquisite, so alluring as now
when she lay stricken. Gale wondered if the Indian was affected by her
loveliness, her helplessness, or her terror. Yaqui had seen Mercedes
only a few times, and upon each of these he had appeared to be
fascinated. Could the strange Indian, because his hate for Mexicans
was so great, be gloating over her misery? Something about Yaqui--a
noble austerity of countenance--made Gale feel his suspicion unjust.
Presently Belding called his rangers to him, and then Thorne.
"Listen to this," he said, earnestly. "I'll go out and have a talk
with Rojas. I'll try to reason with him; tell him to think a long time
before he sheds blood on Uncle Sam's soil. That he's now after an
American's wife! I'll not commit myself, nor will I refuse outright to
consider his demands, nor will I show the least fear of him. I'll play
for time. If my bluff goes through... well and good.... After dark the
four of you, Laddy, Jim, Dick, and Thorne, will take Mercedes and my
best white horses, and, with Yaqui as guide, circle round through Altar
Valley to the trail, and head for Yuma.... Wait now, Laddy. Let me
finish. I want you to take the white horses for two reasons--to save
them and to save you. Savvy? If Rojas should follow on my horses he'd
be likely to catch you. Also, you can pack a great deal more than on
the bronchs. Also, the big horses can travel faster and farther on
little grass and water. I want you to take the Indian, because in a
case of this kind he'll be a godsend. If you get headed or lost or
have to circle off the trail, think what it 'd mean to have Yaqui with
you. He knows Sonora as no Greaser knows it. He could hide you, find
water and grass, when you would absolutely believe it impossible. The
Indian is loyal. He has his debt to pay, and he'll pay it, don't
mistake me. When you're gone I'll hide Nell so Rojas won't see her if
he searches the place. Then I think I could sit down and wait without
any particular worry."
The rangers approved of Belding's plan, and Thorne choked in his effort
to express his gratitude.
"All right, we'll chance it," concluded Belding. "I'll go out now and
call Rojas and his outfit over... Say, it might be as well for me to
know just what he said in that paper."
Thorne went to the side of his wife.
"Mercedes, we've planned to outwit Rojas. Will you tell us just what
he wrote?"
The girl sat up, her eyes dilating, and with her hands clasping
Thorne's. She said:
"Rojas swore--by his saints and his virgin--that if I wasn't given--to
him--in twenty-four hours--he would set fire to the village--kill the
men--carry off the women--hang the children on cactus thorns!"
A moment's silence followed her last halting whisper.
"By his saints an' his virgin!" echoed Ladd. He laughed--a cold,
cutting, deadly laugh--significant and terrible.
Then the Yaqui uttered a singular cry. Gale had heard this once
before, and now he remembered it was at the Papago Well.
"Look at the Indian," whispered Belding, hoarsely. "Damn if I don't
believe he understood every word Mercedes said. And, gentlemen, don't
mistake me, if he ever gets near Senor Rojas there'll be some gory
Aztec knife work."
Yaqui had moved close to Mercedes, and stood beside her as she leaned
against her husband. She seemed impelled to meet the Indian's gaze,
and evidently it was so powerful or hypnotic that it wrought
irresistibly upon her. But she must have seen or divined what was
beyond the others, for she offered him her trembling hand. Yaqui took
it and laid it against his body in a strange motion, and bowed his
head. Then he stepped back into the shadow of the room.
Belding went outdoors while the rangers took up their former position
at the west window. Each had his own somber thoughts, Gale imagined,
and knew his own were dark enough. A slow fire crept along his veins.
He saw Belding halt at the corrals and wave his hand. Then the rebels
mounted and came briskly up the road, this time to rein in abreast.
Wherever Rojas had kept himself upon the former advance was not clear;
but he certainly was prominently in sight now. He made a gaudy, almost
a dashing figure. Gale did not recognize the white sombrero, the
crimson scarf, the velvet jacket, nor any feature of the dandy's
costume; but their general effect, the whole ensemble, recalled vividly
to mind his first sight of the bandit. Rojas dismounted and seemed to
be listening. He betrayed none of the excitement Gale had seen in him
that night at the Del Sol. Evidently this composure struck Ladd and
Lash as unusual in a Mexican supposed to be laboring under stress of
feeling. Belding made gestures, vehemently bobbed his big head,
appeared to talk with his body as much as with his tongue. Then Rojas
was seen to reply, and after that it was clear that the talk became
painful and difficult. It ended finally in what appeared to be mutual
understanding. Rojas mounted and rode away with his men, while Belding
came tramping back to the house.
As he entered the door his eyes were shining, his big hands were
clenched, and he was breathing audibly.
"You can rope me if I'm not locoed!" he burst out. "I went out to
conciliate a red-handed little murderer, and damn me if I didn't meet
a--a--well, I've not suitable name handy. I started my bluff and got
along pretty well, but I forgot to mention that Mercedes was Thorne's
wife. And what do you think? Rojas swore he loved Mercedes--swore
he'd marry her right here in Forlorn River--swore he would give up
robbing and killing people, and take her away from Mexico. He has
gold--jewels. He swore if he didn't get her nothing mattered. He'd
die anyway without her.... And here's the strange thing. I believe
him! He was cold as ice, and all hell inside. Never saw a Greaser
like him. Well, I pretended to be greatly impressed. We got to
talking friendly, I suppose, though I didn't understand half he said,
and I imagine he gathered less what I said. Anyway, without my asking
he said for me to think it over for a day and then we'd talk again."
"Shore we're born lucky!" ejaculated Ladd.
"I reckon Rojas'll be smart enough to string his outfit across the few
trails leadin' out of Forlorn River," remarked Jim.
"That needn't worry us. All we want is dark to come," replied Belding.
"Yaqui will slip through. If we thank any lucky stars let it be for
the Indian.... Now, boys, put on your thinking caps. You'll take eight
horses, the pick of my bunch. You must pack all that's needed for a
possible long trip. Mind, Yaqui may lead you down into some wild
Sonora valley and give Rojas the slip. You may get to Yuma in six days,
and maybe in six weeks. Yet you've got to pack light--a small pack in
saddles--larger ones on the two free horses. You may have a big fight.
Laddy, take the .405. Dick will pack his Remington. All of you go
gunned heavy. But the main thing is a pack that 'll be light enough
for swift travel, yet one that 'll keep you from starving on the
desert."
The rest of that day passed swiftly. Dick had scarcely a word with
Nell, and all the time, as he chose and deliberated and worked over his
little pack, there was a dull pain in his heart.
The sun set, twilight fell, then night closed down fortunately a night
slightly overcast. Gale saw the white horses pass his door like silent
ghosts. Even Blanco Diablo made no sound, and that fact was indeed a
tribute to the Yaqui. Gale went out to put his saddle on Blanco Sol.
The horse rubbed a soft nose against his shoulder. Then Gale returned
to the sitting-room. There was nothing more to do but wait and say
good-by. Mercedes came clad in leather chaps and coat, a slim
stripling of a cowboy, her dark eyes flashing. Her beauty could not be
hidden, and now hope and courage had fired her blood.
Gale drew Nell off into the shadow of the room. She was trembling, and
as she leaned toward him she was very different from the coy girl who
had so long held him aloof. He took her into his arms.
"Dearest, I'm going--soon.... And maybe I'll never--"
"Dick, do--don't say it," sobbed Nell, with her head on his breast.
"I might never come back," he went on, steadily. "I love you--I've
loved you ever since the first moment I saw you. Do you care for me--a
little?"
"Dear Dick--de-dear Dick, my heart is breaking," faltered Nell, as she
clung to him.
"It might be breaking for Mercedes--for Laddy and Jim. I want to hear
something for myself. Something to have on long marches--round lonely
campfires. Something to keep my spirit alive. Oh, Nell, you can't
imagine that silence out there--that terrible world of sand and
stone!... Do you love me?"
"Yes, yes. Oh, I love you so! I never knew it till now. I love you
so. Dick, I'll be safe and I'll wait--and hope and pray for your
return."
"If I come back--no--when I come back, will you marry me?"
"I--I--oh yes!" she whispered, and returned his kiss.
Belding was in the room speaking softly.
"Nell, darling, I must go," said Dick.
"I'm a selfish little coward," cried Nell. "It's so splendid of you
all. I ought to glory in it, but I can't. ... Fight if you must,
Dick. Fight for that lovely persecuted girl. I'll love you--the
more.... Oh! Good-by! Good-by!"
With a wrench that shook him Gale let her go. He heard Belding's soft
voice.
"Yaqui says the early hour's best. Trust him, Laddy. Remember what I
say--Yaqui's a godsend."
Then they were all outside in the pale gloom under the trees. Yaqui
mounted Blanco Diablo; Mercedes was lifted upon White Woman; Thorne
climbed astride Queen; Jim Lash was already upon his horse, which was
as white as the others but bore no name; Ladd mounted the stallion
Blanco Torres, and gathered up the long halters of the two pack horses;
Gale came last with Blanco Sol.
As he toed the stirrup, hand on mane and pommel, Gale took one more
look in at the door. Nell stood in the gleam of light, her hair
shining, face like ashes, her eyes dark, her lips parted, her arms
outstretched. That sweet and tragic picture etched its cruel outlines
into Gale's heart. He waved his hand and then fiercely leaped into the
saddle.
Blanco Sol stepped out.
Before Gale stretched a line of moving horses, white against dark
shadows. He could not see the head of that column; he scarcely heard a
soft hoofbeat. A single star shone out of a rift in thin clouds.
There was no wind. The air was cold. The dark space of desert seemed
to yawn. To the left across the river flickered a few campfires. The
chill night, silent and mystical, seemed to close in upon Gale; and he
faced the wide, quivering, black level with keen eyes and grim intent,
and an awakening of that wild rapture which came like a spell to him in
the open desert.