PEDRO'S HATRED
"What started the trouble between you and Pedro, Injun?" asked Whitey,
as they stood by the corral the next morning. Bill Jordan had just
delivered Pedro into the hands of the Sheriff, and the half-breed had
given vent to his opinion of Injun in the most lurid language that he
had at his command, seeming to blame the boy for all his woes. The
tirade had been interrupted by a blow in the mouth delivered by the
Sheriff's heavy hand; but Pedro was taken away, cursing Injun volubly,
and telling what he would do to him if he ever were able to get his
hands on him, and the vehemence of the man left no doubt as to the
amount of venom that was in his heart.
Injun grinned in answer to Whitey's question. "Him tell," he said,
pointing to Bill Jordan. Making a lengthy narrative was not exactly
Injun's long suit, and he delegated the job to Bill.
"Well," said the latter, "it came about this-away. Thet skunk hoboed it
in here, one day, 'bout a year an' a half ago--when ol' man Granville
was alive--an' he was 'bout the down-an'-outest proposition yo'
ever see. He'd bin shot in the shoulder an' the wound hadn't had no
attention an' th' cuss was 'bout all in. He didn't hev' no horse ner no
gun ner no clothes t' speak of--he didn't hev' nuthin' 'cept hunger an'
thirst an' mis'ry. Nobuddy 'd 'a' giv' five cents fer a car-load like
him, 'cept fer fertilizer, an' it shore did look like he was playin'
hookey from the graveyard with the ondertaker on his trail 'bout two
jumps behind him an' gainin' fast. If ever a guy stod 'ith one foot in
th' grave an' t'other on a banana-peel Pedro was it.
"Well, sir, ol' man Granville took him in--th' ol' man jes' nacher'ly
couldn't see nuthin' suffer--an' started in t' renovate him; an'
take it from me, it was some consider'ble job. He set up nights an'
nu'sed thet low-down houn' back to life an' health, an' saw 't he had
ever'thing--jus' like a white man 'd oughta. Seems like this here Pedro
c'd talk French lingo an' so c'd ol' man Granville. When th' two of 'em
was at it, y'd a thought the' was a pack o' fire-crackers goin' off,
not t' mention th' activ'ties of their hands, which was consider'ble.
'Pears like a man 'tain't got no arms 'd be consider'ble handicapped
expressin' himself lucid.
"Well, 't any rate," Bill went on, "in 'bout two months, Pedro was
able to set up an' take a little nourishment while they made his bed,
an' I c'd see 't he was a heap sight better 'n he let on t' be. An'
him an' th' ol' man 'd set onto th' porch an' play pedro by th' hour.
Th' ol' man liked th' game so well he lent Pedro money so's he c'd
win it back--only it didn't turn out thet way, an' Pedro was a steady
winner--so much so 't us boys giv' him thet name--'Pedro.' An' I will
say 't the cuss was some gifted when it come to turnin' a Jack off'n
th' bottom er shiftin' th' cut. I see him pull them stunts one day
when I was watchin' th' game, but I didn't say nuthin' to th' ol' man
'bout it, him bein' free, white, an' over twenty-one an' not relishin'
bein' told he were a sucker--not at no time he didn't! He always 'lowed
he c'd pertect himself, an' mos' gener'ly he could.
"But while I didn't say nuthin', I thinks to myself 'what kind of a
hombrey's this thet 'll giv' the work to a gent as has did as much fer
him as th' ol' man done?' 'Peared t' me thet ef a guy yanked me back
out 'n th' grave an' put me on my feet, I would flip no Jack off 'n
th' bottom on _him_--not fer no money, I wouldn't! But 'twa'n't none
o' my business; besides, mebbe th' ol' man was jes' tryin' him out an'
gittin' a line on him.
"An' 'nother thing--ever'body but th' ol' man c'd see thet Pedro was
soldierin' on him an' was plenty able to get up an' earn a livin'.
But thet wa'n't Pedro's gait--'s long's some-buddy take care o' him,
he didn't pear t' worry none 'bout takin' care of himself. An' he'd
four-flush round 'bout how sick he felt an' how his shoulder hurt, an'
thet whiskey was 'bout th' onlies' thing 't relieved him. An' he shore
licked up a lot o' th' relief! He was Alice-sit-by-th'-firewater, fer
fair! Lit up like a Chrismus tree at ten in th' mornin', an' oreide by
four in th' afternoon--reg'lar.
"Bimeby, when he did get to goin' 'bout, he got a sudden ambition fer
work, an' th' ol' man giv' him a hoss an' outfit an' he rode fence. An'
's far anybuddy c'd see he done pretty good. But after a spell, things
begun t' turn up missin'--not big things, but trifles--a little money,
now an' then, an' a saddle er two, an' a lariat occasional, an' sech.
Pedro managed to throw suspicion at Injun, here, an' we got t' thinkin'
thet mebbe th' boy was at the bottom of them petty-larceny goin's on,
an' fin'ly, I tells Injun he better keep off 'n th' ranch. Seems this
didn't exac'ly tickle Injun t' death--him not bein' no thief--an' he
done a little detectivin'. He trails Pedro an' locates his cache an'
leads me an' Walker to it an' shows us th' stuff, includin' some things
we knowed b'longed to Pedro. How thet bird got wind of it all I dunno,
but he did; a right at th' same time me an' Walker was at the cache,
an' most o' th' boys away from th' ranch-house, he snuk in a grabbed
quite a roll of bills out 'n th' safe 't happened t' be open, an' took
a shot at ol' man Granville, nickin' him in th' arm, an' gits away
clean! Yes, sir--after all ol' man Granville done fer him!
"A spell afterwards, he meets up 'ith Injun--s'prises him, an' th' kid
ain't got a chanct t' git away. He starts in t' hev a little hangin'
bee--a necktie-party, like I tol' you' 'bout--but he made th' mistake
o' lettin' Injun set onto his own pinto an' he put the noose 'round
Injun's neck 'fore he throwed th' other end o' the lariat over th' limb
o' th' tree! Th' minute he throwed th' lariat over th' limb, Injun dug
his knees inta th' pinto--mind you', Injun's hands was tied behind
his back--an' th' pinto knowin' what Injun was thinkin' 'bout, like I
said, beats it away from there with th' lariat draggin' on th' ground!
O' course, Pedro took after him, but lucky fer Injun, after he'd rode
'bout a mile, he sights me an' Walker ridin' fence, an' Pedro sights
us, too. An' he beats it, an' we never seen him till yo' an' Injun
brung him in here t' git his pitcher took."
Whitey took a long breath: "Gee!" he said, "That was a narrow escape!"
"Correct!" said Bill. "An' ef you don't think it was some trick fer
thet kid t' set onta thet hoss, his hands tied behind him an' th'
lariat draggin', yo' try it sometime!"
Bill put his hand on Injun's shoulder affectionately. "Thet's what I
call ridin' a hoss!" he said.