CHANCE WORK.
Although he allowed nothing to be visible, Don Ruiz was vexed at heart
with the affectation the hunter seemed to display in avoiding him, and
escaping from his thanks. This savageness in a man to whom he owed
such serious obligations appeared to him to conceal either a disguised
enmity, or dark schemes whose accomplishment he feared, though he could
not assign any plausible motive for them, especially after the manner
in which the hunter had not hesitated on two occasions to imperil
his life in assisting himself and his sister. These thoughts, which
incessantly thronged to the mind of Don Ruiz, plunged him into deep
trouble for some moments; still, when the peons he had sent off to
seek the hunter all returned one after the other, declaring that they
could not possibly find his trail, the young man shook his head several
times, frowned, and then gave orders for the start.
Doña Marianna's return to the hacienda was a real triumphal procession.
The peons, delighted at having found their mistress again safe and
sound, gaily bore her on their shoulders, laughing, singing, and
dancing along the road, not knowing how otherwise to express their joy,
and yet desirous to make her comprehend the pleasure they felt. In
spite of the fatigue that crushed her, and the state of exhaustion into
which she had fallen through the terrific emotions she had undergone,
Doña Marianna, sensible of these manifestations of gratitude, made
energetic efforts in order to appear to share their joy, and prove to
them how greatly she was affected by it. But, although she gave them
her sweetest smiles and gentlest words, she could not have endured much
longer the constraint, and she was really exhausted when the little
party at length reached the hacienda.
The Marquis, who was suffering the most frightful agitation, had gone
to the last gate to meet them, and would possibly have gone further
still, had not Don Ruiz taken the precaution, so soon as his sister was
found, to send off a peon to tranquillize his mind and announce the
successful result. At the first moment the Marquis completely forgot
his aristocratic pride, only to think of the happiness of pressing
to his heart the child he feared he had lost for ever. Don Rufino
Contreras, carried away by the example, shared in the general joy,
and pretended to pump up a tear of sympathy while fixing on the young
lady his huge grey eyes, to which he tried in vain to give a tender
expression.
The maiden threw herself with an outburst of tears into her father's
arms, and at length, yielding to her feelings, fainted--an accident
which, by arousing the anxiety of the spectators, cut short all the
demonstrations. Doña Marianna was conveyed to her apartments, and the
peons were dismissed after the majordomo had, by the order of the
Marquis, distributed among them _pesetas_ and tragos of refino, which
set the crown of the delight of these worthy fellows.
In spite of the offer of No Paredes, who invited him to spend the
night at the hacienda, the tigrero would not consent; and after
freeing Bigote from the jaguars' skins, which seemed to cause the dog
considerable pleasure, they both started gaily for the rancho. It was
about two o'clock, a.m., and a splendid night, and the tigrero, with
his gun under his arm and his dog at his heels, was walking at a steady
pace while whistling a merry jarana, when, just as he was entering the
shadow of the forest, Stronghand suddenly emerged from a thicket two
paces ahead of him.
"Hilloh!" the tigrero said, on recognising him; "Where the deuce did
you get to just now, that it was impossible to find you? What bee was
buzzing in your bonnet?"
The hunter shrugged his shoulders.
"Do you fancy," he replied, "that it is so very pleasant to be stared
at by those semi-idiotic peons for performing so simple a deed as mine
was?"
"Well, opinions are free, compadre, and I will not argue with you on
that score; still, I should not have run off in that way."
"¿Quién sabe? You are more modest than you like to show, brother; and I
feel certain that, under similar circumstances, you would have acted as
I did."
"That is possible, though I do not believe it; still, I thank you," he
added, with a laugh, "for having discovered in me a quality which I was
not aware I possessed. But where on earth are you going at such an
hour?"
"I was looking for you."
"In that case all is for the best, since you have found me; what do you
want of me?"
"To ask hospitality of you for a few days."
"Our house is not large, but sufficiently so to contain a guest,
especially when you are he; you can remain with us so long as you
please."
"I thank you, gossip, but I shall not abuse your complaisance; I am
obliged to remain for a few days in these parts, and, as the nights are
fresh, I will confess that I prefer passing them under a roof instead
of the star spangled arch of heaven."
"As you please, Stronghand; the door of my humble rancho is ever
open to let you in or out. I do not want to know the reason for your
stay here; but the longer you remain with us, the greater honour and
pleasure you will afford us."
"Thanks, comrade."
All was settled in a few words. The two men continued their walk, and
soon reached the rancho. The tigrero led the hunter to his bedroom,
where they lay down side by side, and soon fell asleep. A few days
elapsed, during which the hunter saw Doña Marianna several times,
while careful not to let her notice him, although it was evident to
Stronghand that the young lady would have liked nothing better than
meeting him; perhaps she really desired it, without daring to confess
it to herself.
One day, about a week after the scene with the jaguars, the hunter was
lying half asleep in a copse whose leafy branches completely hid him
from sight, and quietly enjoying his siesta during the great midday
heat, when he fancied he heard the sound of footsteps not far from the
spot where he was. He instinctively opened his eyes, raised himself
on his elbow, and looked carefully around him; he checked a cry of
surprise on recognising the man, who had stopped close to the thicket
and dismounted, like a man who has reached the spot he desired. This
man was Kidd, the bandit, with whom the reader has already formed
acquaintance.
"What does that scoundrel want here?" the hunter asked himself. "He is
doubtless plotting some infamy, and I bless the chance that brings him
within earshot, for this demon is one of the men who cannot be watched
too closely."
In the meanwhile Kidd had removed his horse's bit, in order to let it
graze freely; he himself sat down on a rock, lit a husk cigarette, and
began smoking with all the _nonchalance_ of a man whose conscience
is perfectly at its ease. Stronghand racked his brains in vain to try
and discover the motive for the presence of the bandit in these parts,
so remote from the ordinary scene of his villainy, when chance, which
had already favoured him, gave him the clue to the enigma, which he had
almost despaired of obtaining. A sound made him turn his head, and he
saw a stout horseman, with rubicund face and handsomely dressed, coming
up at an amble. When he reached the adventurer, the latter rose, bowed
respectfully, and assisted him to dismount.
"Ouf!" the stout man said, with a sigh of relief, "What a confounded
ride!"
"Well," the bandit replied with a grin, "you must blame yourself, Don
Rufino, for you arranged it. May the fiend twist my neck if I would
damage myself, no matter for what purpose, and ride across the plain at
this hour of the day."
"Everybody is the best judge of his own business, Master Kidd," Don
Rufino remarked, drily, as he wiped his steaming face, with a fine
cambric handkerchief.
"That is possible; but if I had the honour to be Don Rufino Contreras,
enormously rich, and senator to boot, hang me if I would put myself
out of my way to run after an adventurer like Master Kidd, whatever
pleasure I might take at other times in the conversation of that worthy
caballero."
The senator began laughing.
"Ha! Ha! Scoundrel; you have scented something."
"Hang it!" the bandit replied, impudently, "I do not deceive myself,
and am well aware that whatever attractions my conversation may offer,
you would not have come this distance expressly to hear it."
"That is possible, scamp. However, listen to me."
"I can see from your familiarity that the job will be an expensive one;
well, I do not dislike that way of entering upon the subject, for it
forebodes a good business."
The senator shrugged his shoulders with ill-disguised contempt. "Enough
of this," he said, "let us come to facts."
"I ask nothing better."
"Are you fond of money?"
"I certainly have a weakness for gold."
"Good. Would you hesitate about killing a man to earn it?"
"What do you mean?"
"I ask you, scoundrel, whether in a case of necessity you would kill a
man for money?"
"I perfectly understood you."
"Then why make me repeat it?"
"Because your doubt is offensive to my feelings."
"How so?"
"Hang it, I fancy I speak clearly. Killing a man is nothing when you
are well paid for it."
"I will pay well."
"Beforehand?"
"Yes, if you like."
"How much?"
"I warn you that the man I refer to is but a poor fellow."
"Yes, a poor fellow who is troublesome to you. Well, go on."
"One thousand piastres. Is that enough?"
"It is not too much."
"Confound it, you are expensive."
"That is possible; but I do my work conscientiously. Well, tell me who
the man is that is in your way."
"José Paredes."
"The majordomo at the Toro?"
"Yes."
"Do you know that he is not an easy man to kill? You must owe him a
sore grudge, I suppose?"
"I do not know him."
The bandit looked in amazement at the speaker.
"You do not know him, and yet offer one thousand piastres for his
death? Nonsense!"
"It is so."
"But you must have a reason. Caray, a man is not killed as one twists a
fowl's neck. I know that, bandit though I am."
"You said it just now. He is in my way."
"That is different," the adventurer replied, convinced by this
peremptory reason.
"Listen to me attentively, and engrave my words on your mind."
"Go on, señor. I will not lose a word."
"In two or three days the majordomo will leave for Hermosillo, carrying
bills to a considerable amount."
"Good," the bandit said, rubbing his hands gleefully; "I will kill him
as he passes, and take possession of the bills."
"No, you will let him go on in peace, and you will kill him on his
return, when he has cashed the bills."
"That is true. Where the deuce was my head? That will be much better."
Don Rufino looked at him ironically.
"You will deliver to me the sum this man is the bearer of," he said.
The bandit gave a start of alarm,
"I suppose the sum is large?"
"Fifty thousand piastres."
"¡Viva Dios! Surrender such a fortune? I would sooner be burned alive."
"You must, though,"
"Never, señor."
"Nonsense," the senator remarked, contemptuously. "You know you are in
my hands. All the worse for you if you hesitate, for you will then lose
two thousand piastres."
"You said one thousand."
"I made a mistake."
"And when will you give them to me?"
"At once."
"Have you the amount about you?"
"Yes."
Suddenly the bandit's eye gleamed with a sinister flash; he drew
himself up, and leaped, knife in hand, upon the senator. But the
adventurer had a powerful adversary. Don Rufino had long known the man
he was treating with, and, while conversing, had not once taken his eye
off, and attentively watched all his movements. Hence, though Kidd's
action was so rapid, Don Rufino was before him; he seized his arm with
his left hand, while with the right he placed a pistol to his chest.
"Hilloh, my master," he said, coldly, and with the most perfect
tranquillity, "are you mad, or has a wasp stung you?"
Abashed by his failure, the bandit gave him a savage look.
"Let me loose!"
"Not before you have thrown your knife away, scoundrel!"
Kidd opened his hand, the knife fell on the ground, and Don Rufino put
his foot upon it.
"You are not half clever enough," he said, sarcastically; "you deserve
to have your brains blown out, in order to teach you to take your
measures better another time."
"I do not always miss my mark," he replied, with a menacing accent.
There was a moment of silence between the two men. Stronghand still
watched them, not losing one of their words or gestures, which
interested him to the highest degree. At length Don Rufino spoke.
"Have you reflected?" he asked the bandit.
"Of what?" the latter remarked, roughly; "Of this proposal?"
"Yes."
"Well, I accept."
"But you understand," the senator continued, laying a stress upon every
word, "you must deal frankly this time. No trickery, eh?"
"No, no," Kidd answered, with a shake of the head; "you may be sure of
that."
"I reckon on your honesty. Moreover, profit by what has occurred today.
I am not always so good tempered; and if a misunderstanding, like that
just now, again arose between us, the consequences might be very
serious to you."
These few words were uttered with an intonation of voice, and
accompanied by a look, that produced a profound impression on the
bandit.
"All right," he said, shrugging his shoulders savagely; "there is no
need to threaten, as all is settled."
"Very good."
"Where shall I come to you after the business?"
"Do not trouble yourself about that. I shall manage to find you."
"Ah!" he said, with a side-glance; "then that is your affair?"
"Yes."
"Very good. Give me the money."
"Here it is. But remember, if you deceive me--"
"Nonsense," the bandit interrupted him. "Did I not tell you that it was
all settled?"
The senator drew from his pocket a long purse, through whose meshes
gold coins could be seen. He weighed it for an instant in his hand, and
then threw it twenty paces from him.
"Go and fetch it," he said.
The bandit dashed at the gold, which as it fell produced a ringing
sound. Don Rufino took advantage of this movement to get into his
saddle.
"Good-bye," he said to the bandit. "Remember!" and he started at a
gallop. Kidd made no reply, for he was too busy counting the ounces
contained in the purse.
"All right," he at last said, with a smile upon his features, as he hid
the purse in his bosom. "No matter," he added, as he looked savagely
after the senator, "I allow that I am in your power, demon; but if I
ever had you in my hands as you had me today, and I manage to discover
one of your secrets, I should not be so mad as to show you any mercy."
After this soliloquy the bandit went up to his horse, tightened the
girths, and set out in his turn, but in a direction opposite to that
which the senator had taken. So soon as he was alone, the hunter rose.
"Oh, oh!" he muttered, "That is a dark plot. That man cannot want to
kill Paredes merely to rob him; it is plain that the blow is meant for
the Marquis. I will be on my guard."
We have already seen that the hunter religiously kept his promise.