POTENTIAL MOODS
So engrossed was the señorita in her truly feminine game of
cat-and-mouse that she quite forgot her worry over Mrs. Jerry until
she was in her own room and smiling impishly at herself in the mirror,
while she brushed the wind-tangles from her hair and planned fresh
torment for the Señor Jack. The señorita liked to see his eyes
darken and then light with the flames that thrilled her; and it was
exceedingly pleasant to know that she could produce that effect almost
whenever she chose. Also, her lips would curve of themselves whenever
she thought of José's rage and subsequent bafflement when she rode off
with Señor Jack; and of Señor Jack's black looks when she praised
José afterwards. Truly they hated each other very much--those two
caballeros! She was woman enough to know the reason why, and to find a
great deal of pleasure in the knowledge.
Still smiling, she lifted a heavy lock of hair to the light and
speculated upon the mystery of coloring. Black it was, except when
the sun lighted it and brought a sheen that was almost blue; and Señor
Jack's was neither red, as was the hair of the big Señor Simpson, nor
brown nor gold, but a tantalizing mixture of all; especially where
it waved it had many different shades, just as the light gold and the
dark of the pretty señora's--It was then that remembrance came to the
señorita and made her glance a self-accusing one, when she looked at
her reflected face.
"Selfish, thoughtless one that thou art to forget that sweet señora!"
she cried. And for punishment she pulled the lock of hair so that
it hurt--a little. "I shall ask Señor Hunter if he will not send the
carriage for her--and perhaps I shall go with him to bring her; though
truly she will never leave the big hombre who speaks so many words
over such slight matters. I am glad I did not yet carry Chico to live
there in that small camp. Till the house is finished, he shall stay
with me. Truly the storm would kill him if he were there. But perhaps
the storm will not be so great, after all--not so great as is the
storm in the hearts of those two who met and would have fought, had
I not so skillfully prevented it! Santa Maria, I truly must have been
inspired, to act like the dove with the branch of the olive when
I flew between them; and the eyes of José were blazing; and Señor
Jack--" There came the smile again, and the dawdling of the brush
while she thought of those two. So the pretty señora was forgotten,
after all, and left to shiver over her mending in the prairie schooner
because Teresita was a spoiled child with more hearts than it is good
for a girl to play with.
As a matter of fact, however, the pretty señora was quite accustomed
to discomfort in varying degrees, and gave less thought to the weather
than did the more tenderly sheltered women of the valley, so that no
harm came of the forgetfulness; especially since the storm fell far
short of Gustavo's expectations and caused that particular prophet the
inconvenience of searching his soul and the heavens for an explanation
of the sunshine that reprehensibly bathed the valley next day in its
soft glow.
Also, no immediate harm resulted from the rage of the two caballeros,
although not even the most partial judge could give the credit to
Teresita's "olive branch." Chance herself stepped in, and sent a
heavy, dead branch crashing down from a swaying oak upon the head
and right shoulder of José, while he was riding into his own patio.
Whereupon José, who had been promising himself vengefully that he
would send Manuel immediately with a challenge to the gringo who had
dared lift eyes to the Señorita Teresa Picardo, instantly forgot both
his love and his hate in the oblivion that held him until nightfall.
After that his stiffened muscles and the gash in his scalp gave him
time for meditation; and meditation counseled patience. The gringo
would doubtless go to the rodeo, and he would meet him there without
the spectacular flavor of a formal challenge. For José was a decent
sort of a fellow and had no desire to cheapen his passion or cause
the señorita the pain of public gossip. It was that same quality of
dignity in his love that had restrained him from seeking a deliberate
quarrel with Jack before now; and though he fumed inwardly while his
outer hurts healed, he resolved to wait. The rodeo would give him his
chance.
Because it is not in the nature of the normal human to keep his soul
always under the lock and key of utter silence, a little of his
hate and a little of his hope seeped into the ears of Manuel, whose
poultices of herbs were doing their work upon the bruised muscles of
José's shoulder, and whose epithets against the two gringos who were
responsible for his exile from the Picardo hacienda had the peculiar
flavor of absolute sincerity. Frequently he cursed them while he
changed the poultices; and Don José, listening approvingly, added now
and then a curse of his own, and a vague prediction of how he meant
to teach the blue-eyed one a lesson which he would weep at
remembering--if he lived to remember anything.
Manuel did not mean to tattle; he merely let fall a word or two to
Valencia, whom he met occasionally in the open and accused bitterly of
having a treacherous friendship for the gringos, and particularly for
the blue-eyed one.
"Because that mongrel whose hair is neither red nor yellow nor black
speaks praise to you of your skill, perchance, and because he makes
you laugh with the foolish tales he tells, you would turn against your
own kind, Valencia. No honest Spaniard can be a friend of the gringos.
Of the patron," he added rather sorrowfully, "I do not speak, for
truly he is in his dotage and therefore not to be judged too harshly.
But you, Valencia--you should think twice before you choose a gringo
for your friend; a gringo who speaks fair to the father that he may
cover his love-making to the daughter, who is easily fooled, like all
younglings.
"The young Don José will deal with that blue-eyed one, Valencia. Every
day he swears it by all the saints. He but waits for the rodeo and
until I have healed his shoulder--and then you shall see! There will
be no love-making then for the gringo. José will have the señorita
yet for his bride, just as the saints have desired since they played
together in the patio and I watched them that they did not run into
the corrals to be kicked in the head, perchance, by the mustangs we
had there. José, I tell you, has loved her too long to stand now with
the sombrero in hand while that arrogant hombre steals her away. When
the shoulder is well--and truly, it was near broken--and when they
meet at the rodeo, then you shall see what will happen to your new
gringo friend."
Valencia did not quarrel with Manuel. He merely listened and smiled
his startlingly sunny smile, and afterwards repeated Manuel's words
almost verbatim to Jack. Later, he recounted as much as he considered
politic to Don Andres himself, just to show how bitter Manuel had
become and how unjust. Valencia, it must be admitted, was not in any
sense working in the interests of peace. He looked forward with a good
deal of eagerness to that meeting of which Manuel prated. He had all
the faith of your true hero-worshiper in his new friend, and with the
story of that last eventful day which Jack had spent in San Francisco
to build his faith upon, he confidently expected to see José learn a
much-needed lesson in humility--aye, and Manuel also.
Since even the best-natured gossip is like a breeze to fan the flames
of dissension, Don Andres spent an anxious hour in devising a plan
that would preserve the peace he loved better even than prosperity.
While he smoked behind the passion vines on the veranda, he thought
his way slowly from frowns to a smile of satisfaction, and finally
called a peon scurrying across the patio to stand humbly before him
while he gave a calm order. His majordomo he would see, as speedily as
was convenient to a man as full of ranch business as Dade Hunter found
himself.
Dade, tired and hot from a forenoon in the saddle inspecting the
horses that were to bear the burden of rodeo work, presently
came clanking up to the porch and lifted the sombrero off his
sweat-dampened forehead thankfully, when the shade of the vines
enveloped him.
The eyes of the don dwelt pleasedly upon the tanned face of his
foreman. More and more Don Andres was coming to value the keen
common-sense which is so rare, and which distinguished Dade's
character almost as much as did the kindliness that made nearly every
man his friend.
The don had already fallen into the habit of presenting his orders
under the guise of ideas that needed the confirmation of the
majordomo, before they became definite plans; and it speaks much for
those two that neither of them suspected that it was so. Thus, Don
Andres' solution of the problem of preserving peace became the subject
for a conference that lasted more than an hour. The don was absolutely
candid; so candid that he spoke upon a delicate subject, and one that
carried a sting of which he little dreamed.
"One factor I cannot help recognizing," he said slowly. "I am not
blind, nor is the señora blind, to the--the--friendship that is
growing between Señor Jack and our daughter. We had hoped--but we have
long been resolved that in matters of the heart, our daughter shall
choose for herself so long as she does not choose one altogether
unworthy; which we do not fear, for to that extent we can protect her
by admitting to our friendship only those in whose characters we have
some confidence. Now that we understand each other so well, amigo,
I will say that I have had some correspondence with friends in San
Francisco, who have been so good as to make some investigations in
my behalf. Their Vigilance Committee," he said, smiling, "was not the
only tribunal which weighed evidence for and against your friend, nor
was it the only vindication he has received.
"I am assured that in the trouble which brought him to my house
he played the part of an honest gentleman fighting to uphold the
principles which all honest men espouse; and while he is hot-tempered
at times, and perhaps more thoughtless than we could wish, I hear no
ill of him save the natural follies of high-stomached youth.
"Therefore I am willing to abide by the choice of my daughter, whose
happiness is more dear to her parents than any hope they may have
cherished of the welding of two families who have long been friends.
I myself," he added reminiscently, "fled to the priest with my
sweetheart as if all the fiends of hell pursued us, because her
parents had chosen for her a husband whom she could not love. Since
we know the pain of choosing between a parent's wishes and the call of
the heart, we are resolved that our child shall be left free to choose
for herself. Therefore, I think our plan is a wise one; and the result
must be as the saints decree."
Dade, because he was engrossed with stifling the ache he had begun
to think was dead because it had grown numb, bowed his head without
speaking his assent and rose to his feet.
"I'll tell Jack," he said, as he started for the stables. "I guess
he'll do it, all right."