CULVERA RECONSIDERS
Spurred by Daisy Ellington, the star of the border Lunar Company had
kept the wires hot with messages to "the old man" in New York. To do him
justice the president of the company rose to the occasion as soon as it
was impressed upon his mind that Threewit and the others were in serious
danger. He telegraphed for Lennox to meet him in Washington and hurried
to the Capitol himself to lay the case before the senior Senator from
New York, a statesman who happened to be under political obligations to
him.
The Arizona congressional delegation was called into conference and an
appointment made to meet the President of the United States. As soon as
Lennox reached the city, he was hurried to the White House, where he
told the story before the President and the Secretary of State.
The case called for prompt action. Instructions were wired to Captain
Girard, stationed with his company at Bisbee, Arizona, to act as a
special envoy from the President to General Pasquale.
Girard, with a corporal, two saddle-horses, and a pack-horse, entrained
at once. Four hours later he was dropped at a tank station, from which
point he and the corporal struck straight into the barren desert. The
glare of the afternoon sun was slanting down upon them when they
started. Their shadows grew longer as they rode. The sun, a ball of
fire, dropped below the distant horizon edge and left a sky of wonder to
drive a painter to despair.
The gold and crimson and purple softened as the minutes passed. The
distant ridges were no longer flamed with edgings of fire. A deep purple
predominated and was lightened presently to a velvet violet haze. Then
the stars came out, close and cold and innumerable.
Still Girard rode, taking advantage of the cool breath of night. Toward
morning he stopped at a sand-wash where three or four dusty cottonwoods
relieved the vegetation of mesquite, palo verde, and cacti. Among the
rocks a spring rose hesitant to the surface and struggled faintly for
life against the palpitating heat and thirsty drought of the desert.
The corporal hobbled the horses. The men stretched themselves in the
sand and fell into deep sleep. It was noon when they awoke. They ate,
lounged in such shade as the cottonwoods offered from the quivering
heat, and waited till mid-afternoon. Having saddled and repacked, they
struck again across the dreary roll of sandhills and washes. When Noche
Buena lay at their feet the sun was low in the sky.
Into the dusty main street of the village the two men rode at a walk. A
sentinel with a rifle stopped them. Girard explained that he wanted to
see Pasquale.
"He is dead--shot by a Gringo who has gone to hell already. And another
Gringo will be shot when the sun falls below the hills, and perhaps
another to-morrow. Who knows? You, too, may pay for the death of the
Liberator," jeered the sentry.
"Pasquale dead--and shot by an American?" asked the captain in surprise.
"As I have said. But General Culvera killed the dog in his tracks. Ho,
Manuel! Call an officer. A Gringo wants to see the general," he shouted
to a barefoot trooper crouched in the shade of an adobe house.
Girard explained to the officer that he was a messenger from the
President of the United States. He and the corporal were searched and
their arms removed.
The Mexican officer apologized. "Since Pasquale was murdered, we take no
chances," he explained. "You understand I do not at all doubt you are
what you say. But we search all strangers to make sure."
After Culvera had glanced over the credentials of Girard, he was all
suavity. "I offer you a hundred welcomes; first for yourself, as an
officer of the army of our sister Republic, and second as an envoy from
your President, for whom I have a most profound respect. But not a word
of your mission until we have dined. You will want first of all a bath
after your long dusty trip. May I offer you my own quarters for the
present till arrangements can be made?"
Captain Girard bowed. "You are very kind, general. Believe me, I
appreciate your courtesy. But first I must raise one point. I have been
told that an American is to be executed at sunset, which is almost
immediately. You will understand that as a representative of the United
States it is necessary that I should investigate the facts."
Swiftly Culvera considered. If the American officer had arrived an hour
later, Yeager would have been safely out of the way. How had he
discovered already that an American was to be shot? Was it worth while
denying it? But what if Girard insisted on seeing the execution? What if
he asked to see Yeager? Ramon's glance swept the obstinate face of the
captain. He decided it better to acknowledge the truth.
"It is to me a matter of profound regret," he sighed. "The man enlisted
in our army as a spy, disguised as a peon. He is guilty of the murder
of one of our men in a gambling-house. He attempted to kill General
Pasquale a short time ago. He was undoubtedly in league with the man
Holcomb, the assassin of our great general. He shot Major Ochampa, but
fortunately the major is recovering. The man is a border ruffian of the
worst stamp."
"May I talk with him, general?"
"But certainly--if the man is still living," assented the Mexican.
The American officer looked straight at Ramon. His steady eyes made no
accusation, mirrored no suspicion. Culvera could not tell what he was
thinking. But he recognized resentfully a compulsion in them that he
could not safely ignore.
"With your permission I should like to talk also with Miss Seymour and
the two moving-picture men," said Captain Girard.
The Mexican adventurer announced a decision he had come to that very
instant, one to which the inconvenient arrival of the envoy from the
President of the United States had driven him.
"I am making arrangements to have them all three taken safely back to
Arixico. Between you and me, captain, old Pasquale was something of a
savage. It is my purpose to win and hold the friendship of the United
States. I don't underestimate Pasquale. He was my friend and chief. He
made a free Mexico possible. But he was primitive. He did not understand
international relations. He treated the citizens of your great country
according to his whims. That was a mistake. I shall so act as to win the
approval of your great President."
"I am very glad to hear that. The surest foundation upon which you can
build for a free Mexico is justice for all, general. And now, if I may
see Yeager."
A messenger was sent to bring the prisoner. He found an officer with a
firing party already crossing the plaza to the place of execution. The
prisoner was bareheaded, ragged, unkempt. His arms were tied by the
elbows behind his back. But the spirit of the unbeaten spoke in his eyes
and trod in his limping step.
"The general wishes to see the prisoner," explained the messenger to the
officer.
The party wheeled at a right angle, toward the headquarters of Culvera.
Steve thought he understood what this meant. Culvera had sent for him to
gloat over him, to taunt him. The man wanted to hear him beg for his
life. The teeth of the cowpuncher clenched tightly till the muscles of
the jaw stood out like ropes. He would show this man that an American
did not face a firing squad with a whine.
At sight of the captain of cavalry sitting beside Culvera the heart of
Yeager leaped. The long arm of Uncle Sam had reached across the border
in the person of this competent West Pointer. It meant salvation for
Ruth, for his friends, possibly even for himself.
"Captain Girard wants to ask you a few questions," Culvera explained.
Without waiting for questions Yeager spoke. "Do you know that an
American girl is held prisoner here, captain,--that Pasquale was driving
her to a forced marriage when Holcomb shot him to save her?"
Girard turned toward the general, a question in his eyes.
Ramon shrugged his shoulders. "I told you Pasquale was a barbarian. The
trouble is he was a peon. He took what he wanted."
"Her name is Ruth Seymour. She's a fine girl, captain. You'll save her,
of course, and see that she gets home," continued Steve.
"I have the promise of General Culvera to see her and your friends safe
to Arixico," replied Girard.
"You'll ride with them yourself all the way," urged the prisoner.
"No doubt. But, of course, the word of General Culvera--"
"--Is worth what it is worth," Yeager finished for him.
"The man stands in the shadow of death. Let him say what he likes," said
the Mexican contemptuously to the officer beside him.
"You are charged with being a spy, Mr. Yeager. I am told you were
captured in disguise after having plotted to help prisoners escape,"
said Girard.
Yeager nodded quietly. "Technically I am a spy. I came here to try to
save Miss Seymour and my friends. The attempt failed and I was
captured."
"Are you a spy in the sense that you were in the employ of the enemies
of General Pasquale and his armies?"
"No. Culvera understands that perfectly well. I came only to look out
for my friends."
Girard knew what manner of man Yeager was. He intended to save his life
if it could be done. This would be possible only if Culvera could be
made to feel that it would cost too much to punish him.
"It is claimed that you attempted the life of General Pasquale once."
"Nothing to that. I was a prisoner, condemned to be shot in the morning.
He came to my cell and offered me my life if I would knife Culvera in
the back. I couldn't see the proposition. But I got a chance, knocked
him down, tied him up, and slipped out in his serape. Then I made my
getaway on the horse he had left for me in case I came through with the
knifing."
Instantly Culvera knew the story to be true. It cannot be said that he
was grateful to Yeager, but the edge of his resentment against him was
dulled.
"Sounds like a plausible story, doesn't it?" he suggested ironically.
"Why should Pasquale want the death of his friend, his lieutenant, the
man who was closest to him among all his followers?"
"Send for Juan Garcia. He was on sentry duty that night. Ask him as to
the facts," the cowpuncher proposed.
Girard turned to his host and spoke to him in a low voice. "General,
this man has a good reputation at home. He has a host of friends in
Arizona. I believe he is speaking the truth. Perhaps General Pasquale
may have been too hasty. Let us send for all the witnesses and make a
thorough investigation of the charges against him. I shall be called to
Washington after I have wired my report. The President, no doubt, will
question me. Make it possible for me to tell him that under the rule of
General Culvera a régime begins that is founded on justice for all."
Culvera was far from a fool. He had lived in the United States and
understood something of the temper of its people. The fall of Huerta
was potent proof that no ruler could survive in Mexico if the
Government at Washington was set in opposition to him. After all, the
life of Yeager was only a small matter. Why not use him as a pawn in the
game to win the approval of the big Republic to the north?
With his most engaging smile Ramon offered his hand to Captain Girard.
"You are right. Pasquale was a child, a creature of moods, of foolish
suspicions and tempestuous passions. Perhaps this man tells the truth.
It may be he has been condemned unjustly. You and I, my friend, shall
sit in judgment on him. If he be guilty, we shall condemn; if innocent,
acquit. Meanwhile I will remand him to prison and order the execution
postponed. Does that satisfy you, captain?"
The American officer shook hands warmly. "General, it is a pleasure to
meet a man like you. Mexico is fortunate in having such a son."
Culvera beamed. "Gracias. And now, captain, first a bath, then dinner.
Afterwards you shall talk with the moving-picture men." He turned
affably to Yeager. "I shall give orders that you be given a good dinner
to-night. To-morrow we shall pass judgment on you."
Steve nodded to the West Pointer. "Much obliged, captain."