Starr, of the Desert

by B. M. Bower

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  "IS HE THEN DEAD--MY SON?"

  Starr hurried down the bluff, slipping, sliding, running where the waywas clear of rocks. So presently he came to the stone wall, vaulted overit, and stopped beside the tragic little group dimly outlined in thehouse yard just off the porch.

  "My son--my son!" the old woman was wailing, on her knees beside a long,inert figure lying on its back on the hard-packed earth. Back of her thepeona hovered, hysterical, useless. Luis, half dressed and a good dealdazed yet from sleep and the suddenness of his waking, knelt beside hismother, patting her shoulder in futile affection, staring downbewilderedly at Estan.

  So Starr found them. Scenes like this were not so unusual in his life,which had been lived largely among unruly passions. He spoke quietly toLuis and knelt to see if the man lived. The senora took comfort from hiscalm presence and with dumb misery watched his deft movements while hefelt for heartbeats and for the wound.

  "But is he then dead, my son?" she wailed in Spanish, when Starr gentlylaid down upon Estan's breast the hand he had been holding. "But solittle while ago he lived and to me he talked. Ah, my son!"

  Starr looked at her quietingly. "How, then, did it happen? Tell me,senora, that I may assist," he said, speaking easily the Spanish whichshe spoke.

  "Ah, the good friend that thou art! Ah, my son that I loved! How can Itell what is mystery? Who would harm my son--my little Estan that was sogood? Yet a voice called softly from the dark--and me, I heard, though tomy bed I had but gone. 'Estan!' called the voice, so low. And my son--ah,my son!--to the door he went swiftly, the _lampara_ in his hand, holdingit high--so--that the light may shine into the dark.

  "'Who calls?' Me, I heard my son ask--ah, never again will I hear hisvoice! Out of the door he went--to see the man who called. To theporch-end he came--I heard his steps. Ah, my son! Never again thy dearfootsteps will I hear!" And she fell to weeping over him.

  "And then? Tell me, senora. What happened next?"

  "Ah--the shot that took from me my son! Then feet running away--then Icame out--Ah, _querido mio_, that thou shouldst be torn from thymother thus!"

  "And you don't know--?"

  "No, no--no--ah, that my heart should break with sorrow--"

  "Hush, mother! 'Twas Apodaca! He is powerful--and Estan would not comeinto the Alliance. I told him it would be--" Luis, kneeling there,beating his hands together in the dark, spoke with the heedlesspassion of youth.

  "Which Apodaca? Juan?" Starr's voice was low, with the sympathetic tonethat pulls open the floodgates of speech when one is stricken hard.

  "Not Juan; Juan is a fool. Elfigo Apodaca it was--or some one obeying hisorder. Estan they feared--Estan would not come in, and the time wascoming so close--and Estan held out and talked against it. I told him hislife would pay for his holding out. I _told_ him! And now I shall killApodaca--and my life also will pay--"

  "What is this thou sayest?" The mother, roused from her lamentations bythe boy's vehemence, plucked at his sleeve. "But thou must not kill, mylittle son. Thou art--"

  "Why not? They'll all be killing in a month!" flashed Luis unguardedly.

  Starr, kneeling on one knee, looked at the boy across Estan's chillingbody. A guarded glance it was, but a searching glance that questioned andweighed and sat in judgment upon the truth of the startling assertion.Yet younger boys than Luis are commanding troops in Mexico, for thewarlike spirit develops early in a land where war is the chief businessof the populace. It was not strange then that eighteen-year-old Luisshould be actively interested in the building of a revolution on thisside the border. It was less strange because of his youth; for Luis wouldhave all the fiery attributes of the warrior, unhindered by the cooljudgment of maturity. He would see the excitement, the glory of it. Estanwould see the terrible cost of it, in lives and in patrimony. Luis lovedaction. Estan loved his big flocks and his acres upon acres of land, andhis quiet home; had loved too his foster country, if he had spoken histrue sentiments. So Starr took his cue and thanked his good fortune thathe had come upon this tragedy while it was fresh, and while the shock ofit was loosening the tongue of Luis.

  "A month from now is another time, Luis," he said quietly. "This ismurder, and the man who did it can be punished."

  "You can't puneesh Apodaca," Luis retorted, speaking English, since Starrhad used the language, which put their talk beyond the mother'sunderstanding. "He is too--too high up--But I can kill," he addedvindictively.

  "The law can get him better than you can," Starr pointed out cannily."Can you think of anybody else that might be in on the deal?"

  "N-o--" Luis was plainly getting a hold on himself, and would not tellall he knew. "I don't know notheeng about it."

  "Well, what you'd better do now is saddle a horse and ride in to town andtell the coroner--and the sheriff. If you don't," he added, when hecaught a stiffening of opposition in the attitude of Luis, "if you don't,you will find yourself in all kinds of trouble. It will look bad. Youhave to notify the coroner, anyway, you know. That's the law. And thecoroner will see right away that Estan was shot. So the sheriff will bebound to get on the job, and it will be a heap better for you, Luis, ifyou tell him yourself. And if you try to kill Apodaca, that will rob yourmother of both her sons. You must think of her. Estan would never bringtrouble to her that way. You stand in his place now. So you ride in andtell the sheriff and tell the coroner. Say that you suspect ElfigoApodaca. The sheriff will do the rest."

  "What does the senor advise, my son?" murmured the mother, plucking atthe sleeve of Luis. "The good friend he was to my poor Estan--my son! Dothou what he tells thee, for he is wise and good, and he would not guidethee wrong."

  Luis hesitated, staring down at the dead body of Estan. "I will go," hesaid, breaking in upon the sound of the peona's reasonless weeping. "Iwill do that. The sheriff is not Mexican, or--" He checked himselfabruptly and peered across at Starr. "I go," he repeated hastily.

  He stood up, and Starr rose also and assisted the old lady to her feet.She seemed inclined to cling to him. Her Estan had liked Starr, and forthat her faith in him never faltered now. He laid his arm protectivelyaround her shaking shoulders.

  "Senora, go you in and rest," he commanded gently, in Spanish. "Have thegirl bring a blanket to cover Estan--for here he must remain until he isviewed by the coroner--you understand? Your son would be grieved if youdo not rest. You still have Luis, your little son. You must be brave andhelp Luis to be a man. Then will Estan be proud of you both." So hesuited his speech to the gentle ways of the old senora, and led her backto the shelter of the porch as tenderly as Estan could have done.

  He sent the peona for a lamp to replace the one that had broken whenEstan fell with it in his hand. He settled the senora upon thecowhide-covered couch where her frail body could be comfortable and shestill could feel that she was watching beside her son. He placed a pillowunder her head, and spread a gay-striped serape over her, and tucked itcarefully around her slippered feet. The senora wept more quietly, andcalled him the son of her heart, and brokenly thanked God for thetenderness of all good men.

  He explained to her briefly that he had been riding to town by ashort-cut over the ridge when he heard the shot and hurried down; andthat, having left his horse up there, he must go up after it and bring itaround to the corral. He would not be gone longer than was absolutelynecessary, he told her, and he promised to come back and stay with herwhile the officers were there. Then he hurried away, the senora's brokenthanks lingering painfully in his memory.

  At the top of the bluff, where he had climbed as fast as he could, hestood for a minute to get his breath back. He heard the muffledpluckety-pluck of a horse galloping down the sandy trail, and he knewthat there went Luis on his bitter mission to San Bonito. His eyes turnedinvoluntarily toward Sunlight Basin. There twinkled still the light fromHelen May's window, though it was well past midnight. Starr wondered atthat, and hoped she was not sick. Then immediately his face grewlowering. For between him and the clear, twi
nkling light of her window hesaw a faint glow that moved swiftly across the darkness; an automobilerunning that way with dimmed headlights.

  "Now what in thunder does that mean?" he asked himself uneasily. He hadnot in the least expected that move. He had believed that the automobilehe had heard, which very likely had carried the murderer, would hurrystraight to town, or at least in that direction. But those dimmed lights,and in that the machine surely betrayed a furtiveness in its flight,seemed to be heading for Sunlight Basin, though it might merely be makingthe big loop on its way to Malpais or beyond. He stared again at thetwinkling light of Helen May's lamp. What in the world was she doing upat that hour of the night? "Oh, well, maybe she sleeps with a lightburning." He dismissed the unusual incident, and went on about his moreurgent business.

  Rabbit greeted him with a subdued nicker of relief, telling plainly as ahorse can speak that he had been seriously considering foraging for hissupper and not waiting any longer for Starr. There he had stood for sixor seven hours, just where Starr had dismounted and dropped the reins. Hewas a patient little horse, and he knew his business, but there is alimit to patience, and Rabbit had almost reached it.

  Starr led him up over the rocky ridge into the arroyo where theautomobile had been, and from there he rode down to the trail and back tothe Medina ranch. He watered Rabbit at the ditch, pulled off the saddle,and turned him into the corral, throwing him an armful of secate from ahalf-used stack. Then he went up to the house and sat on the edge of theporch beside the senora, who was still weeping and murmuring yearningendearments to the ears that could not hear.

  He did not know how long he would have to wait, but he knew that Luiswould not spare his horse. He smoked, and studied the things which Luishad let drop; every word of immense value to him now. Elfigo Apodaca heknew slightly, and he wondered a little that he would be the Allianceleader in this section of the State.

  Elfigo Apodaca seemed so thoroughly Americanized that only his swarthyskin and black hair and eyes reminded one that he was after all a son ofthe south. He did a desultory business in real estate, and owned animmense tract of land, the remnant of an old Spanish grant, and went infor fancy cattle and horses. He seemed more a sportsman than apolitician--a broadminded, easy-going man of much money. Starr had stilla surprised sensation that the trail should lead to Elfigo. Juan, thebrother of Elfigo, he could find it much easier to see in the role ofconspirator. But horror does not stop to weigh words, and Starr knew thatLuis had spoken the truth in that unguarded moment.

  He pondered that other bit of information that had slipped out: "In amonth they'll all be killing." That was a point which he and hiscolleagues had not been able to settle in their own minds, the proposeddate of the uprising. In a month! The time was indeed short, but now thatthey had something definite to work on, a good deal might be done in amonth; so on the whole Starr felt surprisingly cheerful. And if Elfigofound himself involved in a murder trial, it would help to hamper hisactivities with the Alliance. Starr regretted the death of Estan, but hekept thinking of the good that would come of it. He kept telling himselfthat the shooting of Estan Medina would surely put a crimp in therevolution. Also it would mark Luis for a mate to the bullet that reachedEstan, if that hotheaded youth did not hold his tongue.

  He was considering the feasibility of sending Luis and his mother out ofthe country for awhile, when the sheriff and coroner and Luis camerocking down the narrow trail in a roadster built for speed where speedwas no pleasure but a necessity.

  The sheriff was an ex-cattleman, with a desert-baked face and hard eyesand a disconcerting habit of chewing gum and listening and saying nothinghimself. For the sake of secrecy, Starr had avoided any acquaintance withhim and his brother officers, so the sheriff gave him several sharpglances while he was viewing the body and the immediate surroundings.Luis had told him, coming out, the meager details of the murder, and hehad again accused Elfigo Apodaca, though he had done some real thinkingon the way to town, and had cooled to the point where he chose his wordsmore carefully. The sheriff's name was O'Malley, which is reason enoughwhy Luis was chary of confiding Mexican secrets to his keeping.

  Elfigo Apodaca had quarreled with Estan, said Luis. He had come to theranch, and Luis had heard them quarreling over water rights. Elfigo hadthreatened to "get" Estan, and to "fix" him, and Luis had been afraidthat Estan would be shot before the quarrel was over. He had heard thevoice that called Estan out of the house that night, and he told thesheriff that he had recognized Elfigo's voice. Luis surely did all hecould to settle any doubt in the mind of the sheriff, and he felt that hehad been very smart to say they quarreled over water rights; a lawsuittwo years ago over that very water-right business lent convincingness tothe statement.

  The sheriff had not said anything at all after Luis had finished hisstory of the shooting. He had chewed gum with the slow, deliberate jaw ofa cow meditating over her cud, and he had juggled the wheel of hismachine and shifted his gears on hills and in sandy stretches with thesame matter-of-fact deliberation. Sheriff O'Malley might be called one ofthe old school of rail-roosting, stick-whittling thinkers. He took histime, and he did not commit himself too impulsively to any cause. But hecould act with surprising suddenness, and that made him always anuncertain factor, so that lawbreakers feared him as they fearednightmares.

  The sheriff, then, stood around with his hands in his pockets and hisfeet planted squarely under him, squeezing a generous quid of gumbetween his teeth and very slightly teetering on heels and toes, whilethe coroner made a cursory examination and observed, since it was cominggray daylight, how the lamp lay shattered just where it had fallen withEstan. He asked, in bad Spanish, a few questions of the grief-wornsenora, who answered him dully as she had answered Starr. She had heardthe call, yes.

  "You know Elfigo Apodaca?" the sheriff asked suddenly, and watched howthe eyes of the senora went questioningly, uneasily, to Luis; watched howshe hesitated before she admitted that she knew him.

  "You know his voice?"

  But the senora closed her thin lips and shook her head, and in a minuteshe laid her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes also, and wouldtalk no more.

  The sheriff chewed and teetered meditatively, his eyes on the ground.From the tail of his eye Starr watched him, secretly willing to bet thathe knew what the sheriff was thinking. When O'Malley turned and strolledback to the porch, his hands still in his pockets and his eyes still onthe ground as though he were weighing the matter carefully, Starr stoodwhere he was, apparently unaware that the sheriff had moved. Starr seemedto be watching the coroner curiously, but he knew just when the sheriffpassed cat-footedly behind him, and he grinned to himself.

  The sheriff made one of his sudden moves, and jerked the six-shooter fromits holster at Starr's hip, pulled out the cylinder pin and released thecylinder with its customary five loaded chambers and an empty one underthe hammer. He tilted the gun, muzzle to him, toward the rising sun andsquinted into its barrel that shone with the care it got, save whereparticles of dust had lodged in the bore. He held the gun close under hisred nose and sniffed for the smell of oil that would betray a freshcleaning. And Starr watched him interestedly, smiling approval.

  "All right, far as you've gone," he said casually, when the sheriff wasreplacing the cylinder in the gun. "If you want to go a step farther, Ireckon maybe I can show you where I come down off the bluff when Iheard the shot, and where I went back again after my horse. And you'llsee, maybe, that I couldn't shoot from the bluff and get a man aroundon the far side of the house. Won't take but a minute to show yuh." Hegave the slight head tilt and the slight wink of one eye which, theworld over, asks for a secret conference, and started off around thecorner of the house.

  The sheriff followed noncommittally but he kept close at Starr's heels asthough he suspected that Starr meant to disappear somehow. So theyreached the bluff, which Starr knew would be out of hearing from thehouse so long as they did not speak loudly. He pointed down at the printsof his boots where he had left the rocks
of the steep hillside for thesand of the level; and he even made a print beside the clearest track toshow the sheriff that he had really come down there as he climbed. But itwas plain that Starr's mind was not on the matter of footprints.

  "Keep on looking around here, like you was tracing up my trail," he saidin a low voice, pointing downward. "I've got something I want to tellyuh, and I want you to listen close and get what I say, because I ain'tapt to repeat it. And I don't want that coroner to get the notion we'retalking anything over. That little play you made with my gun showed thatyou've got hoss sense and ain't overlooking any bets, and it may be thatI'll have use for yuh before long. Now listen."

  The sheriff listened, chewing industriously and wandering about whileStarr talked. His hard eyes changed a little, and twice he nodded hishead in assent.

  "Now you do that," said Starr at last, with an air of one giving orders."And see to it that you get a hearing as soon as possible. I can't appearexcept as a witness, of course, but I want a chance to size up thefellows that take the biggest interest in the trial. And keep it all onthe basis of a straight quarrel, if you can. You'll have to fix that upwith the prosecuting attorney, if you can trust him that far."

  "I can, Mr. Starr. He's my brother-in-law, and he's the best man we couldpick in the county for what you want. I get you, all right. There won'tbe anything drop about what you just told me."

  "There better hadn't be anything drop!" Starr told him dryly. "You'reinto something deeper than county work now, ole-timer. This is Federalbusiness, remember. Come on back and stall around some more, and let mego on about my own business. You can get word to me at the Palacia if youwant me at the inquest, but don't get friendly. I'm just a stock-buyerthat happened along. Keep it that way."

  "I sure will, Mr. Starr. I'll do my part." The sheriff relapsed into hisruminative manner as he led the way back to the house. One may guess thatStarr had given him something worth ruminating about.

  In a few minutes, he told Starr curtly that he could go if he wanted to;and he bettered that by muttering to the coroner that he had a notion tohold the fellow, but that he seemed to have a pretty clear alibi, andthey could get him later if they wanted him. To which the coroner agreedin neighborly fashion.

  Starr was saddling Rabbit for another long ride, and he was scowlingthoughtfully while he did it.