by B. M. Bower
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE WIND BLOWS MANY STRAWS
Soon after daylight, Rabbit snorted and ran a little way down the corraltoward the cabin. Starr, trained to light sleeping and instant waking,was up and standing back from the little window with his six-shooter inhis hand before Rabbit had stopped to whirl and look for what had scaredhim. So Starr was in time to see a "big four" Stetson hat with ahorsehair hatband sink from sight behind the high board fence at the rearof the corral.
Starr waited. Rabbit shook his head as though he were disgusted withhimself, and began nosing the ground for the wisps of hay which a highwind had blown there. Starr retreated to a point in the room where hecould see without risk of being seen, and watched. In a few minutes, whenthe horse had forgotten all about the incident and was feeding again, theStetson hat very cautiously rose once more. Under its gray brim Starr sawa pair of black eyes peer over the fence. He watched them glancing hereand there, coming finally to rest upon the cabin itself. They watchedRabbit, and Starr knew that they watched for some sign of alarm ratherthan from any great interest in the horse: Rabbit lifted his head andlooked that way boredly for a moment before he went back to his feeding,and the eyes lifted a little, so that the upper part of the owner's facecame into view. A young Mexican, Starr judged him, because of his smoothskin around the eyes. He waited. The fellow rose now so that the fencecame just below his lips, which were full and curved in the pleasantlines of youth. His eyes kept moving this way and that, so that thewhites showed with each turn of the eyeball. Starr studied what he couldsee of the face. Thick eyebrows well formed except that the left one tooka whimsical turn upward; heavy lashes, the high, thin nose of the Mexicanwho is part Indian--as are practically all of the lower, or peonclass--that much he had plenty of time to note. Then there was the mouth,which Starr knew might be utterly changed in appearance when one saw thechin that went with it.
A hundred young fellows in San Bonito might answer equally well adescription of those features. And the full-crowned gray Stetson may beseen by the thousand in at least four States; and horsehair hatbands maybe bought in any saddlery for two or three dollars--perhaps for less, ifone does not demand too long a pair of tassels--and are loved by Indiansand those who think they are thus living up to the picturesque Old West.So far as he could see, there was nothing much to identify the fellow,unless he could get a better look at him.
The Mexican gave another long look at the cabin, studying every point,even to the roof. Then he tried to see into the shed where Starr kept hissaddle and where Rabbit could shelter himself from the cold winds. Therewas no door, no front, even, on the side toward the house. But the end ofthe shed was built out into the corral so that the fellow could not seearound its corner.
He moved along the fence, which gave Starr a very good idea of hisheight, and down to the very corner of the vacant laundry building. Therehe stopped and looked again. He was eyeing Starr's saddle, apparentlytaking in every detail of its workmanship. He looked again at Rabbit, whowas turned then so that his brand, the double Turkey-track, stood outplainly on both thighs. Then, with another slant-eyed inspection of thecabin, he ducked down behind the fence and disappeared, his goingbetrayed by his hat crown which was taller than he imagined and showed agood four inches above the fence.
Starr had edged along the dark wall of the room so that he had kept theman in sight. Now, when the hat crown moved away down the trail thatskirted the garbage-filled arroyo, he snorted, threw his gun down on thebed, and began to dress himself, rummaging in his "warbag" for a graychecked cap and taking down from the wall a gray suit that he had neverliked and had never worn since the day it came from the mail, lookingaltogether different from the four-inch square he had chosen from atailor agent's sample book. He snorted again when he had the suit on, andsurveyed it with a dissatisfied, downward glance. In his opinion helooked like a preacher trying to disguise himself as a sport, but tocomplete the combination he unearthed a pair of tan shoes and put themon. After that he stood for a minute staring down the fresh-creased graytrousers to his toes.
"Looks like the very devil!" he snorted again. "But anyway, it'sdifferent." He dusted the cap by the simple expedient of slapping itseveral times against his leg. When he had hung it on the back of hishead and pulled it well down in front--as nine out of ten men always puton a cap--he did indeed look different, though he did not look at alllike the demon he named. Helen May, for instance, would have needed asecond close glance before she recognized him, but that glance wouldprobably have carried with it a smile for his improved appearance.
He surveyed as much of the neighborhood as he could see through thewindows, looked at his watch, and saw that it was late enough for him toappear down town without exciting comment from the early birds, and wentout into the corral and fed Rabbit. He looked over the fence where theMexican had stood, but the faint imprints of the man's boots were notdefinite enough to tell him anything. He surveyed the neighborhood fromdifferent angles and could see no trace of any one watching the place, sohe felt fairly satisfied that the fellow had gone for the present, thoughhe believed it very likely that he might return later.
As he saw the incident, he was not yet considered worth shadowing, buthad in some way excited a certain degree of curiosity about himself.Starr did not like that at all. He had hoped to impress every one withhis perfect harmlessness, and to pass for a stock buyer and nothing else.
He could not imagine how he had possibly excited suspicion, and he wantedto lull it immediately and permanently. The obvious way to do that wouldbe to rise late, saddle Rabbit and ride around town a little--to the postoffice and a saloon, for instance--get his breakfast at thebest-patronized place in town, and then go about his legitimatebusiness. On the other hand, he wanted to try and trace those cord tiresdown the cross street, if he could, and he could not well do that onhorseback without betraying himself.
The shed was built out flush with the arroyo edge, so that at the rear ofthe corral one could only go as far as the gate, which closed against theend of the shed. It occurred to Starr that if the young Mexican had beenlooking for something to steal, he would probably have come in at thegate, which was fastened only with a stout hook on the inside. The arroyobank had caved under the farther corner of the shed, so that a hole thesize of a large barrel showed at that end of the manger. Cats and dogs,and perhaps boys, had gone in and out there until a crude kind of trailwas worn down the bank to the arroyo bottom. At some risk to his tanshoes and his new gray suit, Starr climbed into the manger and lethimself down that hole. The trail was firm and dry and so steep he had todig his heels in to keep from tobogganing to the bottom, but once down hehad only to follow the arroyo bottom to a place where he could climb out.Before he found such a place he came to a deep, dry gully that angledback toward the business part of town. A footpath in the bottom of itencouraged him to follow it, and a couple of hundred yards farther alonghe emerged upon the level end of a street given over to secondhandstores, junk shops and a plumber's establishment. From there to the mainstreet was easy enough.
As he had expected, only a few citizens were abroad and Starr strolledover to the cross street he wanted to inspect. He found the long-linedtread of the tires he sought plainly marked where they had turned intothis street. After that he lost them where they had been blotted out bythe broad tires of a truck. When he was sure that he could trace them nofarther, he turned back, meaning to have breakfast at his favoriterestaurant. And as he turned, he met face to face a tall young Mexican ina full-crowned Stetson banded with horsehair.
Now, as I have said before, San Bonito was full of young Mexicans whowore Stetson hats and favored horsehair bands around them. Starrglanced at the fellow sharply, got the uninterested, impersonal lookof the perfect stranger who neither knows nor cares who you are, andwho has troubles of his own to occupy his mind; the look whichnineteen persons out of twenty give to a stranger on the street. Starrwent on unconcernedly whistling under his breath, but at the corner heturned sharply to t
he left, and in turning he flicked a glance back atthe fellow. The Mexican was not giving him any attention whatever, asfar as he could see; on the contrary, he was staring down at theground as though he, too, were looking for something. Starr gave himanother stealthy look, gained nothing from it, and shrugged hisshoulders and went on.
He ate his breakfast while he turned the matter over in his mind. Whathad he done to rouse suspicion against himself? He could not rememberanything, for he had not yet found anything much to work on; nothing, infact, except that slight clue of the automobile, and he did not even knowwho had been in it. He suspected that they had gone to meet Estan Medina,but as long as that suspicion was tucked away in the back of his mind,how was any one going to know that he suspected Estan? He had not beennear the chief of police or the sheriff or any other officer. He had nottalked with any man about the Mexican Alliance, nor had he asked any manabout it. Instead, he had bought sheep and cattle and goats and hogs fromthe ranchers, and he had paid a fair price for them and had shipped themopenly, under the eye of the stock inspector, to the El Paso MeatCompany. So far he had kept his eyes open and his mouth shut, and hadwaited until some ripple on the surface betrayed the disturbanceunderneath.
He was not sure that the young man he met on the street was the one whohad been spying over the fence, but he did not mean to take it forgranted that he was not the same, and perhaps be sorry afterwards for hiscarelessness. He strolled around town, bought an automatic gun and a lotof cartridges for Vic, went into a barber shop on a corner and had ashave and a haircut, and kept his eyes open for a tall young Mexican whomight be unduly interested in his movements.
He met various acquaintances who expressed surprise at not having seenhim around the hotel. To these he explained that he had rented a corralfor his horse, where he could be sure of the feed Rabbit was getting, andto save the expense of a livery stable. Rabbit had been kinda off hisfeed, he said, and he wanted to look after him himself. So he had beensleeping in the cabin that went with the corral.
His friends thought that was a sensible move, and praised his judgment,and Starr felt better. He did not, however, tell them just where thecorral was located. He had some notion of moving to another place, so heconsidered that it would be just as well not to go into details.
So thinking, he took his packages and started across to the gully whichled into the arroyo that let him into his place by the back way. He meantto return as he had come; and if any one happened to be spying, he wouldthink Starr had chosen that route as a short cut to town, which it was.
A block away from the little side street that opened to the gully, Starrstopped short, shocked into a keener attention to his surroundings. Hehad just stepped over an automobile track on the walk, where a machinehad crossed it to enter a gateway which was now closed. And the track hadbeen made by a cord tire. He looked up at the gate of unpainted planks,heavy-hinged and set into a high adobe wall such as one sees so often inNew Mexico. The gate was locked, as he speedily discovered; locked on theinside, he guessed, with bars or great hooks or something.
He went on to the building that seemed to belong to the place; a longtwo-story adobe building with the conventional two-story gallery runningalong the entire front, and with the deep-set, barred windows that arealso typically Mexican. Every town in the adobe section of the southwesthas a dozen or so buildings almost exactly like this one. The door wasblue-painted, with the paint scaling off. Over it was a plain letteredsign: LAS NUEVAS.
Starr had seen copies of that paper at the Mexican ranches he visited,and as far as he knew, it was an ordinary newspaper of the country-townstyle, printed in Mexican for the benefit of a large percentage ofMexican-Americans whose knowledge of English print is extremely hazy.
He walked on slowly to the corner, puzzling over this new twist in thefaint clue he followed. It had not occurred to him that so innocuous asheet as _Las Nuevas_ should be implicated, and yet, why not? He turnedat the corner and went back to the nearest newstand, where he bought anEl Paso paper for a blind and laid it down on a pile of _Las Nuevas_while he lighted his cigarette. He talked with the little, pock-markedMexican who kept the shop, and when the fellow's back was turned towardhim for a minute, he stole a copy of _Las Nuevas_ off the pile andstrolled out of the shop with it wrapped in his El Paso paper.
He stole it because he knew that not many Americans ever bought thepaper, and he feared that the hombre in charge might wonder why anAmerican should pay a nickel for a copy of _Las Nuevas_. As it happened,the hombre in charge was looking into a mirror cunningly placed for theguarding of stock from pilferers, and he saw Starr steal the paper. Alsohe saw Starr slip a dime under a stack of magazines where it would befound later on. So he wondered a great deal more than he would have doneif Starr had bought the paper, but Starr did not know that.
Starr went back to his cabin by way of the arroyo and the hole in themanger. When he unlocked the door and went in, he had an odd feeling thatsome one had been there in his absence. He stood still just inside thedoor and inspected everything, trying to remember just where his clotheshad been scattered, where he had left his hat, just how his blankets hadbeen flung back on the bed when he jumped up to see what had startledRabbit; every detail, in fact, that helps to make up the general look ofa room left in disorder.
He did remember, for his memory had been well trained for details. Heknew that his hat had been on the table with the front toward the wall.It was there now, just as he had flung it down. He knew that his pillowhad been dented with the shape of his head, and that it had lain askew onthe bed; it was just as it had been. Everything--his boots, his dark coatspread over the back of the chair, his trousers across the foot of thebed--everything was the same, yet the feeling persisted.
Starr was no more imaginative than he needed to be for the work he hadto do. He was not in the least degree nervous over that work. Yet he wassure some one had been in the room during his absence, and he could nottell why he was sure. At least, for ten minutes and more he could nottell why. Then his eyes lighted upon a cigarette stub lying on thehearth of the little cookstove in one corner of the room. Starr alwaysused "wheat straw" papers, which were brown. This cigarette had beenrolled in white paper. He picked it up and discovered that one end wasstill moist from the lips of the smoker, and the other end was stillwarm from the fire that had half consumed it. Starr gave an enlightenedsniff and knew it was his olfactory nerves that had warned him of analien presence there; for the tobacco in this cigarette was not thebrand he smoked.
He stood thinking it over; puzzling again over the mystery of theirsuspicion of him. He tried to recall some careless act, some imprudentquestion, an ill-considered remark. He was giving up the riddle againwhen that trained memory of his flashed before him a picture that,trivial as it was in itself, yet was as enlightening as the white paperof the cigarette on the stove hearth.
Two days before, just after his last arrival in San Bonito, he had sent awire to a certain man in El Paso. The message itself had not been of verygreat importance, but the man to whom he had sent it had no connectionwhatever with the Meat Company. He was, in fact, the go-between in theinvestigation of the Secret Service. Through him the War Departmentissued commands to Starr and his fellows, and through him it kept intouch with the situation. Starr had used two code words and a number inthat message.
And, he now distinctly remembered, the girl who had waited upon him wasdark, with a Spanish cast of features. When she had counted the words andchecked the charge and pushed his change across to him, she had given hima keen, appraising look from under her lashes, though the smile she sentwith it had given the glance a feminine and wholly flatteringinterpretation. Starr remembered that look now and saw in it somethingmore than coquetry. He remembered, too, that he had glanced back from thedoorway and caught her still looking after him; and that he had smiled,and she had smiled swiftly in return and had then turned away abruptly toher work. To her work? Starr remembered now that she had turned andspoken to a sulky-faced messenger boy
who was sitting slumped down on thecurve of his back with his tightly buttoned tunic folded up to hisarmpits so that his hands could burrow to the very bottom of his pockets.He had looked up, muttered something, reluctantly removed himself fromthe chair, and started away. The boy, too, had the Mexican look.
Well, at any rate, he knew now how the thing had started. He heaved asigh of relief and threw himself down on the bed, wadding the pillowinto a hard ball under the nape of his neck and unfolding the Mexicannewspaper. He had intended to move camp; but now that they had begun totrail him, he decided to stay where he was and give them a run for theirmoney, as he put it.
Starr could read Spanish well enough for ordinary purposes. He wentcarefully through _Las Nuevas_, from war news to the localadvertisements. There was nothing that could even be twisted into amessage of hidden meaning to the initiated. _Las Nuevas_ was what itcalled itself: _The News_. It was exactly as innocuous as he had believedit to be. Its editorial page, even, was absolutely banal in its servilityto the city, county, state and national policy.
"That's a hell of a thing to steal!" grumbled Starr, and threw the paperdisgustedly from him.
