WHEREIN AN OLD FRIENDSHIP COMES TO LIFE, LOPEZ LEARNS A THING OR TWO, AND
FINALLY MAKES A MATCH
"What's coming off?" Gilbert said, looking about him, and not a little
surprised to find a Mexican and his adherents in his adobe.
Lopez turned and gave him a searching look. A light seemed to come into the
bandit's countenance. It was as if someone had put a lantern behind his
face.
"You!" he cried, enraptured. "You ze nephew zat owns zis ranch?"
Gilbert came farther into the room. Everyone now had turned back, stood
stock still, listening to these two.
"Yes," said young Jones. "I am. What of it?" He didn't understand matters
at all. Absent from the house for a little time, he had been called back to
find this medley of people.
Lopez searched his face again. "Tell me you 'ave been in Cañon Diabalo
sometime? 'Ave you?"
"Of course. What of it?" Gilbert was mystified.
"You were there one night, three, mebbe four year ago?" Lopez persisted,
hoping there could be no mistake.
"I don't remember," was the disappointing answer.
"You remember poor peon was wounded--near bleed to death?"
"What?" said Gilbert, light beginning to dawn upon him.
"You do!" shouted Lopez, delighted. "Where was 'e wounded? Quick! You
tell!"
"Shot through the shoulder," Gilbert answered promptly.
"It is you! Don't you know me?" He faced him squarely, threw back his
shoulders, and waited, breathless, for his look of recognition.
Gilbert studied his face. An instant of doubt, and then, "Why, you're
Pancho Lopez!" he said.
The bandit was overjoyed. "I am! But don't you recognize who is ze Pancho
Lopez what I am? Look close! Ze clothes, no! Ze face!"
"Good Lord!" was all Gilbert could utter.
"Now you know me?"
"You're the man I found wounded that night!"
"And whose life you save!" Lopez added.
"Well, what do you know about that!" young Jones shouted. He was as
surprised and happy as the bandit himself. This man, whom he never thought
to see again in his whole life was standing here, in his own adobe.
"Now you know me!" Pancho went on. "Ah! my frand! 'Ow glad I am for to see
you some more! Pedro! Venustiano! Ees my friend! Sabbe! Orders like my own!
Serve 'im as you would me!" He went to Gilbert and frankly embraced him in
the Latin fashion. "Eet's 'ell of a good thing I reckernize you!" he
laughed, hugging his old friend close. He could never forget his kindness
that night so many years ago; and to think he had run across his deliverer
now!
Everyone was relieved. Their troubles would now be ended.
"And you ain't going to rob him, after all?" Uncle Henry piped up.
"Rob 'im? Rob my frand?" Lopez repeated.
"Ain't you?" Uncle Henry cried.
The bandit looked at him, wonder in his eyes. "No! _Ciertamente_ no!"
"Hooray!" the old man yelled, and would have risen in his chair could he
have done so.
"Say, who the 'ell is that?" said Lopez, addressing himself to Gilbert.
"He's my uncle," young Jones answered.
"Uncle?" the bandit said, unbelieving.
"Uncle Henry," old man Smith wanted it to be straight.
"He shall go free," Lopez announced.
Hardy thought this a good omen. They would all be set free, no doubt. He
faced Lopez bravely. "Ah, then it's all right," he said, a sickly smile on
his face.
"All right?" said Lopez.
"Yes," Hardy said.
Lopez considered for a moment, hand on chin, his eyes again two narrow
slits. "Not so fast," he cautioned. "It ees all right for 'im," nodding at
Uncle Henry, "an' all right for 'im," indicating Gilbert; "but for you--"
He let one hand fly out, and a resounding slap on Hardy's eager face was
the result. Then he turned to Pedro. "Take them all out--_pronto_! 'Ees all
right!' Like 'ell ees all right!"
Hardy flushed scarlet. His first impulse was to strike back; but how could
he? Those guns pointed at him from every direction. He was as powerless as
a baby. But his hour would come. This dastardly Mexican bandit should
suffer for that blow.
Yet like one of a line of sheep he was obliged to follow Pedro out of the
door. It was a humiliating moment. Gilbert and Lopez were left alone.
"Now we shall visit," the bandit said, and put his arm through Gilbert's.
"Ah! it ees so good to see you, my frand!"
Gilbert was still mystified. "Yes," he said, "but I don't understand how
you, a peon, became the Pancho Lopez so soon."
"Ah! it ees so easy!" laughed the bandit.
"Easy!" Gilbert repeated.
"_Si._ My frand"--his hand went to Gilbert's shoulder--"ees great
opportunity, ees revolution, for make speed. When I got well, I find I do
not enjoy my work, which are 'ard. Business? Business, she make me sick! I
say for myself, 'What to do?' Zen, suddenly I sink, 'I shall be soldado!'
Soldier which shall be giv ze 'orse, ze gun, ze woman, and nozzing to do
but shoot a little sometimes! Ees a wonderful life, my frand!" The smoke of
his cigarette curled to the ceiling.
"I didn't find it so," young Jones said, and smiled in his dry way.
"Pah! It's too many damn rules in your army. For us who make revolution,
no! We sleep so late we damn please. We fight some when we feel so. If we
find ze hacienda, we take all what we choose. When we need money, we go to
city and rob ze bank--we 'elp for ourselves food from ze store, shoes,
clothes, candy, ze cigarette, agauriante--" he made as if to drink from an
imaginary glass--"booze! An' if anybody 'ide anysing we cut 'is fingers off
so's 'e tell us. She is one fine life! You like for try? I make you
general! Come!"
His face was radiant. The recollection of his army life filled him with
joy.
But Gilbert shook his head. "Not for me, thank you," he smiled.
Lopez merely shrugged his shoulders. "So! I was afraid!"
"But how did you get ahead so fast?" young Jones wanted to know. "That's
what sticks me."
The bandit laughed. "Zat is simple. You see, one day ze lieutenant she are
killed. Soon I become a lieutenant. Nex' day, ze captain. So I am captain,
Byme-bye, ze major--so I became major. Pretty damn soon ze colonel--so I am
colonel. I kill ze general for myself." As he spoke, he lifted the chair
at the table, and brought it down on the floor with a bang.
"What!" cried Gilbert, at this description of an opera-bouffe army.
"But we shall not talk of me," Lopez said. "We shall spik of you. 'Ow you
been since I seen you, what?" He tossed away his cigarette.
Gilbert offered him another of his own.
"No, gratias; zat's for peon. Zese from ze swell hotel National an
Torreon--zay are good. I steal zem myself," pulling out his case and
lighting another. He pushed his chair so that he could see young Jones
better. "Well, old frand, how you feel zis long time? Eh?"
"I?" said Gilbert. He smiled a little, and looked significantly about the
room.
Lopez caught the look. "So?" he said, sympathy in his tone. "It ees too
bad." He paused, letting the smoke curl over his head again. "Ah! I see her
now! You are ze nephew of Uncle Henry which owns zis rancho which are to be
foreclosed by moggidge." Gilbert nodded. "H'm! Zat shall make her all
different some more! Axplain for me, so I shall know."
Gilbert replied: "There's not much to tell. I borrowed ten thousand from
my uncle; ten more from Hardy--the tall man, and our neighbor. He's a loan
shark--you know, in a mortgage. I go to the war. When I come home, cattle
all gone. No money. That's all." He made a gesture as though the world were
tumbling about him.
"I see," said Lopez. "And wiz ze strange ideas of your country, it makes
you feel bad."
"Well, it seems like a pretty good chunk of trouble to hand an average
citizen," young Jones said.
"Trouble?" Lopez let out the word in wrath. "You are no trouble. You only
sink you are."
"You don't call this trouble? If it isn't then I don't know what trouble
is!"
"Not really trouble." He came over and put his hand on Gilbert's shoulder.
"Only trouble you are made for yourself because you go by law what are
foolish instead of sense what are wise." He gave him an affectionate pat.
Just then Uncle Henry wheeled himself in, neither inquiring nor caring if
he was wanted or not.
"Well, I sure told 'em their right names for once, gol darn 'em!" he
chuckled. Lopez glared at him. "Pardon me! My mistake!" the invalid
apologized; and rolled into the alcove. "So, you sink you have much
trouble," Lopez continued, as though the invalid had not come in to
interrupt them. The clock struck five. He listened to it, and then said, "I
have time to spare--" He went to the window and looked out.
"But if you've been raiding around here," Uncle Henry said from his
seclusion, "won't the rangers be after you?"
"I have ze scouts who watch," the bandit said. He turned to Gilbert again.
"Suppose I stop here and prove to you who sink you have trouble, zat really
you have no trouble at all?"
The young man looked at him incredulously. "You mean you can get me out of
this mess?" he asked.
"Sure! In one half hour," the bandit was convinced.
"Really?"
"In one half hour your trouble go poof!" He made a ring of smoke and
watched it fade away. "And you shall be 'appy man. If I do zat, what zen?"
"If you do that," said the other, "they'll have to tie me down to keep me
from kissing you!"
"Good!" laughed Lopez. "She is did."
There was a moment's pause. Then, "But how are you going to do this
miracle?" Gilbert was anxious to find out.
"Zat is for you to leave to me. Well, what you say?"
"I say yes, of course!"
"_Bueno!_ We begin," said the bandit. He called through the door: "Pedro!
Bring zem all in again."
Uncle Henry was curious, "What are you going to do?"
"You shall see," was all Lopez answered.
Angela was the first to file into the room. Uncle Henry glanced at her.
"What are you going to do about her?" he asked.
Lopez looked around, "Her?" he said.
"Her!" repeated Uncle Henry.
"What 'as her to do wiz it?" the bandit inquired.
"Why, she wants to marry him," Uncle Henry revealed, pointing to his
nephew. "That's what started the whole jamboree."
Lopez looked astonished. "So?" he said.
"Uh--huh!"
The bandit glanced at Gilbert. "But 'e does not love 'er," he said, nodding
toward Angela.
"Certainly not!" Gilbert was instantly saying, and glared at his uncle.
The latter, as usual, plunged straight ahead, as the others now gathered
about the room. "He," meaning "Red," "loves her. _He_," he nodded toward
his nephew, "loves _her_," pointing to Lucia Pell. "And she loves him,"
nodding back to Gilbert.
"Shut up! How many times must I tell you to--"
"But she," went on Uncle Henry, just as if nothing had been said, and
pointing to Lucia, "is married to him," indicating Pell. "Which makes it a
hell of a mess all around!" He leaned back in his chair as if he had done a
good day's work.
Gilbert could scarcely restrain himself. Again he wanted to lay violent
hands upon him--he wished he could. "Be quiet, won't you?" he breathed.
"Not me!" Uncle Henry persisted. "I've gotter tell the truth."
"Yes, but--" Gilbert began.
"I don't wanter get shot," the old man declared.
Lopez turned to Gilbert. "Is it true? You love her?" his eyes going to
Lucia.
How could he tell the truth? "Of course I do not," he affirmed. Then he
went close to his uncle. "What did you do all this again for?"
"He says he can fix it," Uncle Henry said. "Let him try. He's done swell so
far. Personally, I got a lot o' confidence in that feller. He's slick, he
is!"
It was easy to be seen that the bandit was not satisfied with the answer
Gilbert had given him. He had been slyly watching both him and Lucia. Now,
he said, looking at them both: "So!" And old man Smith started to break in
once more; but Lopez went on: "Is it true?"
"What makes you think so?" Gilbert wanted to know.
"It is in her eyes--and yours," the Mexican stated. "I shall miss her. She
is very beautiful. However, what is one woman between frands?" He laughed a
bitter laugh. "You shall have her."
Uncle Henry cried out: "But he can't have her. She's married."
"Ees too bad," said Lopez, nonchalantly. "But nozzing to get excite about."
"Nozzing to get excite about!" mimicked Uncle Henry.
"No. But ees more to be did zan I 'ave sought. But I 'ave promise I shall
make you a 'appy man, my frand," again to Gilbert. "_Bueno!_ I keep zat
promise. You have gave me your word zat you will not interfere. Is it not
so?"
"Yes, but I--" Gilbert hardly knew what to say.
"It is for you to keep zat word as I keep mine," Lopez said. Then, to Uncle
Henry he went on, "I shall start wiz you. Now, Pedro!"
"_Si_," answered the faithful minion of the bandit, stepping forward.
"Remember," his master commanded. "Shoot ze first one which interrup'."
"_Si_," said Pedro again, and grinned broadly and pleasantly. If there was
one thing he liked, it was the possibility of trouble with prisoners. He
knew how to bring them to terms. He had been doing it for years.
Lopez got down to business. "Now, look here, Oncle Hennery: my frand 'ave
borrow money which 'e 'ave lost? Is zat true?"
"Yes, sir," answered Uncle Henry promptly, and happy to have been addressed
so familiarly by the bandit. He felt that his triumph was now complete.
"'E cannot be happy until 'e pay you back."
"No, sir," sitting up straight in his chair.
"I shall give you ten sousand dollar," was the bandit's surprising remark.
Uncle Henry thought he could not have heard aright. "Ten thousand--! Yes,
but where are you going to get it?" he inquired, a bit dazed.
"Do not ask me." He caught sight of "Red." "Ze next is you." He appraised
him rapidly, and then said to Gilbert, "'E is frand for you, no?"
"He certainly is," answered young Jones promptly. "About the best I ever
had." He wasn't going to see anything happen to the faithful "Red." He'd
have protected him with his own life.
Lopez liked this, "You love zat girl?" he said to the foreman, meaning, of
course, Angela.
"What?" the latter cried out.
"Well, I don't go around advertising the fact," "Red" told Lopez, a bit
mortified that his heart affairs should be thus openly discussed.
"Ze girl zat spoiled my dinner," the bandit laughed.
"Oh!" cried Angela, who thought she had done so well.
"And she love you?" Lopez went on.
"I don't either!" Angela protested, speaking before "Red" had a chance.
"Now, Angela!" said "Red," his face the color of his flaming hair.
His dream seemed so close. Was it possible that the only girl he ever had
adored was going to see it wrecked?
Angela weakened a bit at his tone. "I like him," she told the bandit. "But
I don't--love him."
"Ah! but you do!" Lopez insisted.
"I do?" said Angela, wide-eyed.
"I have so decide!" the bandit stated.
"What?" cried Angela, not knowing what he could be driving at.
"Also you make love to my frand, Señor Jones."
"Oh!" cried the frightened girl now.
"And you have annoyed him in other ways."
"I have?" she wailed, terrified to the breaking point.
"Red" intervened. "Listen, Angela--" he began.
She stamped her little foot, and was peppery at once. "I won't!"
"You don't love him," "Red" affirmed, for her.
"Oh!" Angela burst out, all confusion.
"No more than you loved any of the rest of 'em," "Red" went on.
"Keep still!" the girl cried. "Keep still! I think you're dreadful!"
"It's because they're better looking than me," her slave went right on.
"I'm the one for you to marry, Angy, and you know it!" He had faith in
himself at last--she couldn't stop him now.
"No!" Angela contradicted.
"Aw, come on!" poor "Red" begged.
But she stamped her foot again. "No--no--_no_!"
"Say you will!" "Red" pleaded, almost distracted.
But Angela was adamant. "I won't--I won't listen to you another minute!"
She turned her back on him, blushing to the roots of her hair.
Lopez had been highly amused at the girl's pique and "Red's" honest
interest in her. He came to his assistance. "We shall be patient. She is
mad. And mad lady sink not wiz ze 'ead, but only wiz ze tongue." He faced
the pouting Angela. "Señorita, leesten to me. 'Ow old are you?"
"None of your business!" was the instant answer.
"Twenty-eight? Twenty-nine?" Lopez pressed, smiling.
"Certainly not! I'm only twenty!" She was swift with the denial.
"Ah! I sought so," said Lopez, much pleased.
"What?" Angela said, not understanding him.
"In Mexico you would now be married five years--" the bandit explained.
"What?" screamed Angela.
"An' have six children."
"Oh!" The very thought made Angela ill.
"You are not pretty--none too pretty!" Lopez said.
The girl was now both hurt and amazed. "What's that?" she cried, all her
feminine anger aroused.
"You will soon grow fat," Lopez continued, looking her over carefully.
Angela pulled out her handkerchief and brushed her eyes. "Oh!"
"Like ze tub!" said Lopez, inexorably, spreading his arms to indicate an
immense diameter.
"Oh!" was all poor Angela could get out.
"Also, you 'ave ze bad temper."
"Oh! Oh!" Sobs now came from her.
"So, if you do not marry soon, it will be too late."
"What's that?" she looked up, not able to believe she had understood.
"Now, my frand 'ere, 'e wish to marry wiz you. Why, I do not know." Lopez
grinned broadly. He knew this would be the last stroke. He was right.
"Oh!" gasped Angela.
"Shall he come wiz me to Mexico," the bandit piled it on, "I will give 'im
planty wives, young, beautiful...."
"Oh!" again came from the distracted Angela.
"But he want you. And so ..."
"You're going to force me to marry him. I see!" She turned to the listening
"Red." "And you'd let him force you on me, like this?"
"It ain't my fault, Angela," the foreman assured her. "I didn't know he was
going to do this! You know that."
Lopez issued his ultimatum.
"I am not going to force you to marry 'im. You are going to choose to marry
'im."
The girl was on the brink of despair.
"Never! Never! Never!" she screamed, and stamped her foot vigorously.
"Ah! my young lady. We shall see." He turned abruptly, and called, "Pedro!"
"_Si_," the faithful one answered, and came to his master.
Lopez then addressed Angela: "I shall not force you to marry 'im,"
indicating "Red" with a wave of the hand. "I shall insist only zat if you
do not marry wiz 'im, you shall marry wiz Pedro."
Directly behind the girl stood the fearful Pedro. His face was the dirtiest
that had ever crossed the border into Arizona. His teeth were sparse, his
hair a tangled mass of grit and dirt; his hands like violent mud-pies. The
suit he wore was stained and greasy--he had slept in it for many nights.
Altogether, he was about the most hopeless-looking individual a girl could
be asked to look upon. At his master's words, he grinned a fiendishly happy
grin, spread out his arms as if to embrace the charming Angela, and, if
possible, press a kiss upon her rosy cheek. But Angela, with one look at
him, collapsed into "Red's" waiting arms. He seemed like heaven to her now.
"Ah!" yelled Lopez.
"'Red'! save me, save me!" Angela cried in melodramatic fashion.
Pedro, seeing how far from popular he was with the young lady, walked
disconsolately to the door.
"So! You do love 'im, after all!" the bandit said to Angela.
"I never thought I could love anybody so much!" the girl replied. "Oh,
'Red'!" And she hugged him again.
"You mean it?" asked the delighted "Red." "You're not saying it
because..."
But Lopez broke in: "She is saying it because it is ze truth. In pleasure,
a woman go to ze man she sink she love. In fear, she go to ze man she
really love.... Well, you really want her? She is yours. And I 'ope you
will be 'appy. At least, I 'ave done my part." He smiled his most
enchanting smile.
"You have--you certainly have, and I am mighty obliged to you," said the
grateful "Red."
"You are welcome. I like you. But remember zis: Eet is your wish--not
mine.... Don't blame me."
"Red" could stand this now: he had his Angela. And tucked in his big arm,
he took her outdoors.
As soon as they had gone, Hardy turned to Lopez. "Look here!" he shouted,
"I guess I've got something to say about this. That's my daughter, whose
affairs you've been so kindly fixing up, and--"
Lopez gave him one look that closed his mouth suddenly. "Don't shoot,
Pedro," he said. "Well?"
Hardy cast one eye at Pedro's lifted gun, and got out only one word,
"Nothing." A meeker man never lived.
"From what my frand tell me, I can see now 'ow you make your money," the
bandit told Hardy. "You are a robber."
This was too much for Hardy--for any man with a spark of manhood left in
him.
"I am not!" he denied. "I'm a business man."
"You are a loan fish," the bandit pressed.
"A what?"
"A loan fish! You loan money. And when ze people cannot pay, you convict
zem and take zeir ranchos."
The lean, sharklike Hardy looked a little depressed at this accusation.
"Well, if they can't pay, it isn't my fault," was all he could say.
"It isn't zeir fault, too, is it?" Lopez was curious to know.
"What's that?" Hardy said.
"So you take ze rancho from my friend, Señor Jones. A nice sort of neighbor
you are, you beeg fish!"
"I'm not to blame because he's a rotten business man, am I?" Hardy tried to
set himself right.
Lopez looked at him scornfully. "How do you know 'e is a rotten business
man?"
"Why, the fact that I've had to foreclose the mortgage shows that," Hardy
smiled.
"Not at all. Señor Jones 'ave been away to war. He been away fighting for
'is country."
"Well, that isn't my fault."
"No." There was profound contempt in the little word. "He give up 'is
business to go away to fight to save you, while you stay be'ind to rob 'im.
Is zat fair?"
Hardy gave a gesture of disdain. "I'm not talking about what's fair, or
what's not fair. There's lots of things in this world that ain't right. I
am doing only what the law allows." He thought this cleared his skirts. It
was the refuge of every scoundrel.
"I do not speak about ze law," Lopez followed him up. "I am doing only what
is fair. If I were you, I should be ashamed for myself! You love your
country?"
"Certainly I do," the other answered.
"Like 'ell! You love yourself!" And Lopez deliberately turned his back on
him.
"Now, wait a minute!" Hardy begged. He could scarcely have this insult
added to the host of others. "I do love my country. I'm a good American."
"Yet you would rob ze man who fight for your country! Bah!" The bandit
waved his hand in disgust.
Hardy saw he was in a bad hole. "There's some truth in what you said," he
admitted, trying to crawl out. "He _has_ fought for America. And I'm
willing to do the right thing by him."
"You will?" yelled Uncle Henry, wheeling close to him.
"If I get this place, I'm willing to give him a good bonus," Hardy
continued.
Uncle Henry leaned forward, all eagerness. "How much?" he cried.
"Say, five hundred dollars," the loan shark generously offered.
"I knew there was a ketch in it!" Uncle Henry said, and rolled back in the
shadows of the alcove.
Lopez had been listening intently. Now he stepped up to Hardy and said:
"Señor Santy Claus, now I understand why it is so 'ard for your country to
get ze soldier. In Mexico, ze soldiers would take all ze money and give ze
people a bonus ... per'aps." He puffed his cigarette. "I am done wiz you."
He turned abruptly to Lucia. "Now I shall come to you."
She started.
"You love my frand, Señor Jones?"
Gilbert intervened. He could not stand this. "I don't know what you're
getting at," he said to Lopez, "nor how you're going to get it. But you
must see that you can't discuss a thing like this here. It's
impossible--utterly impossible." He was suffering vicariously for Lucia.
Pell sneered. "Your delicacy is somewhat delayed," he murmured.
"I don't mind business discussions. But there's been too much insinuation
to-day. I won't have any more of it," Jones said.
Lopez looked affectionately at the young fellow, "But if I would make you
'appy...." he said.
"I don't want to be made happy at a cost so great," Gilbert affirmed.
Lucia's lovely head drooped, and she moved to the window.
"It shall be but a moment," the bandit promised. Gilbert walked to the
fireplace so that his face would not be seen. Lopez went over to Lucia.
"Señora, you do not wish to speak of love. Why?"
"I am married," was the answer.
"And because you are marry, you cannot speak of love?... Eet is strange
customs. Tell me, señora, what does your marriage service say?"
"One promises to love, honor, and obey, in sickness and in health, till
death shall part."
Lopez smiled. "All zat you promise?"
"Yes," very low.
"And yet you 'ave divorce!"
"Yes," lower still.
"So zat, after 'aving promise to love, honor, and hobey," he tapped off one
finger at a time, and looked as if he wanted to get this mysterious matter
straight in his mind, "until death, you 'ave ze right to break your word
because ze judge say you can? Is zat it?"
"Y-y-y-yes. I suppose so."
Lopez smoked a moment, looked at the ceiling, and then said, "Well, why not
break it yourself and save ze trouble!"
"It's the law," Lucia told him.
"Humph! An' what does ze 'usband promise? An' 'as 'e kept 'is promise?"
There was no reply. "Is plain 'e 'as not. Zen why should you keep your word
to 'im, when 'e 'as broken 'is word to you? Eh? Why do you not go before ze
judge and 'ave your promise broken? Why ees it ze custom of your country?
Why? Why?" He looked bewildered.
Lucia could say nothing. What was there to say? Suddenly Uncle Henry's
sharp voice was heard: "I'll tell you why!"
Lopez turned to him. "And why?"
"She ain't got no money," Uncle Henry informed the room.
Lucia lifted her face. "Oh, do you think that would make any difference?"
"So!" Lopez was interested, "'Er 'usband? 'E 'as money?"
"He's richer'n mud," Uncle Henry declared.
Pell started to speak; but Pedro stopped him by lifting his gun.
"How much?" Lopez asked, not noticing.
Uncle Henry was bursting with information. "He's worth millions, the big
bum!"
The bandit's eyes opened wide. "Millions!" he repeated. He looked at Lucia.
"Yet 'e give nozzing to ze wife. H'm! Señora, tell me.... Does a widow in
your country get any of 'er 'usband's money when 'e dies?"
Pell, listening intently, drew a sharp breath. He caught the significance
of the question. His lips contracted. This damned bandit was capable of
anything.
Lopez paid no attention to him. He asked for enlightenment from Hardy.
"Señor Loan Fish, do you know?"
Pell ventured to get out part of a sentence. "Say, what the ..." But
Pedro's active gun came against his ribs, and he paused, as who would not?
"She gets it all--the wife," Hardy told Lopez. "That is, if the husband
hasn't made a will."
"'Ave you?" the bandit turned on Pell. "'Ave you made a will?" His tone was
incisive. "Do not lie."
"No, damn you!" Pell in his rage cried out. "But I'm going to, the first
min--"
"Good!" smiled Lopez.
Pell was puzzled, "What do you mean ... good?"
Lopez did not answer him; instead, he addressed Lucia: "Señora, your
'usband 'e is bad frand for you. 'E beat you, sometimes?"
Lucia was startled. "Why do you think that?" she asked.
"I 'ave known ladies what are beaten. It is in ze eyes ... as in dogs and
'orses." He waited a second before he went on, came close to her, and
peered earnestly into her eyes. "_Si_, I sink your 'usband a evil man." He
turned on Pell again. "Say, who are you? Your business, I mean?"
"I'm in Wall Street," Pell said, in a low voice. What in God's name was
this bandit going to do? What was his game?
"Wall Street? 'Aven't you never done anything honest? You go to ze war,
per'aps, like my frand, Señor Jones?"
"I was in Washington," Pell winced. "A dollar-a-year man."
"You use your money, your power, to escape ze war? So! You are not only a
skindler, but a coward. While my frand fight, you stay to home, to torture
ze woman, H'm! I see it all now. Nice boy, you!"
Pell could scarcely articulate now, but he managed to get out, "By God,
I've had enough of this--just about enough!"
Lopez looked at him coldly, a glint in his eye that should have warned
Pell. "Do not worry," he said. "You are about through." He turned to his
friend, Gilbert. "And now, my frand, you shall go." Young Jones did not
understand him.
"Go?" he asked. "What do you mean?"
Lopez looked at him calmly, "I 'ave much business to do. You shall not
'ear, nor see, because for you is love, romance! Not business, which are
soddid. Leave all zat for me, which am a business man." He smiled upon
Lucia. "As I said, life 'as been unkind to you, señora. Ze silly law ... ze
foolish custom ... 'ave been around your 'eart, around your soul, like
chains. But fear no more," he assured her. "For I, your frand, shall make
you also 'appy." He put his arm around her.
She was fearful of his plans. "What are you going to do?" she cried.
Lopez laughed. "Wait and see. Life shall be yours. And love! Planty money!
All what your 'eart desire. Now go...."
Pedro started to show them out the door. Gilbert, seeing the movement,
said:
"But I don't understand ..."
"I shall call you soon," Lopez said. "Zen you shall see. Now go." He got
between them, and affectionately directed them to the door.
Gilbert turned to him. "You aren't going to ..."
The bandit smiled. "Do not worry. I shall do no 'arm. Only good. Please go,
my frand."
Lucia and Gilbert, deeply puzzled, obeyed, and followed Pedro into the open
air. What did this portend? There had been a strange look in the eyes of
Pancho Lopez.