The Bells of San Juan

by Jackson Gregory

  CHAPTER XXIII

  THE STRONG HAND OF GALLOWAY

  "Oh, you will all dance and shout together very soon," said Ignaciowisely to his six bells in the old Mission garden. "You will see!Captain and the Dancer and Lolita, the Little One, La Golondrina, andIgnacio Chavez, all of you together until far out across the desert menhear. For it is in the air that things will happen. And then, when itis all done . . . Why then, amigos, who but me is going to build alittle roof over you that runs down both ways, to save you from the hotsun and the rains? . . . Oh, one knows. It is in the air. You willsee!"

  For Jim Galloway had returned, a new Galloway, a Galloway who carriedhimself up and down the street with bright, victorious eyes, and thestride of full confidence, who, at least in the eyes of Ignacio Chavez,was like a blood-lusting lion "screwing up his muscles" to spring.Galloway's return brought to Roderick Norton a fresh vigilance, toVirginia a sleepless anxiety, to Florence Engle unrest, uncertainty,very nearly pure panic. During the first few days of his absence shehad allowed herself the romantic joy of floating unchecked upon thetide of a girlish fancy, dreaming dreams after the approved fashionwhich is youth's, dancing lightly upon foamy crests, seeing only bluewater and no rocks under her. Then, with the potency of the man'scharacter removed with the removal of his physical being, she grew tosee the shoals and to draw back from them, shuddering somewhatpleasurably. Now that he was again in San Juan and that her eyes hadbeen held by his in the first meeting upon the street, her heartfluttered, her vision clouded, she wondered what she would do.

  There was to be no lost action in Galloway's campaign now. Within halfa dozen hours of his arrival there was a gathering of various of hishenchmen at the Casa Blanca. Just what passed was not to be known; itwas significant, however, that among those who had come to his callwere the Mexican, del Rio, Antone, Kid Rickard, and a handful of theother most restless spirits of the county. Norton accepted the act inall that it implied to his suspicions and sent out word to Cutter,Brocky Lane, and those of his own and Brocky's cowboys whom he countedon.

  Galloway's second step, known only to himself and Florrie, was aprivate meeting with the banker's daughter. It occurred upon thesecond evening following his return, just after dark among thecottonwoods, but a hundred yards from her home. He had made theopportunity with the despatch which marked him now; he had watched forher during the day, had appeared merely to pass her by chance on thestreet, and had paused just long enough to ask her to meet him.

  "I have done all that I planned to do," he announced triumphantly, hiseyes holding hers, forcing upon her spirit the mastery of his own."The power in Mexico is going to be Francisco Villa. I have seen him.Let me talk with you to-night, Florence. History is in the making; itmay be you and I together who shape the destiny of a people."

  After all, she was but a little over sixteen, her head filled with thebright stuff of romance, and he was a forceful man who for his ownpurposes had long studied her. She came to the tryst, albeit half intrembling, a dozen tremulous times ready for a fleeing retreat.

  Again he was all deference to her. He builded cunningly upon the factthat he trusted her; that he, a strong man, put his faith in her, awoman. He flattered her as she had never been flattered, not toosubtly, yet not so broadly as to arouse her suspicion of his intent.He spoke quietly at first, then his voice seeming charged with hisleaping ambition set responsive chords within her thrilling. Hepictured to her the state he was going to found, organize, rule, anuncertain number of fair miles stretching along a tropical coast; hemade her see again a palatial dwelling with servants in livery, theblue waters of the Gulf, the white of dancing sails. He spoke of apeace which was going to be declared between warring factions below theborder within thirty days, of the magnificence to be Francisco Villa's,of the position to be occupied by Jim Galloway at Villa's side. Hisplanned development of a gold-mine he mentioned merely casually.

  And then at length when Florrie was prepared for the passionatedeclaration he humbled himself at her feet, lifted his hands to her insupplication, told her in burning words of his love. Whether the mandid love her with all of the strength of his nature or whether he butmeant to strike through her at John Engle, the richest man of thissection of the State, it was for Jim Galloway alone to know. Certainlynot for Florrie, who listened wide-eyed. . . . Once she thought thathe was about to sweep her up into his arms; they had lifted suddenlyfrom his sides. She had drawn back, crying sharply: "No, no!" But hehad waited, had again grown deeply deferential, swerving immediately tofurther vividly colored pictures of life as it might be, of power andpomp, of a secure position from which a man and a woman might directpolicies of state, shaping the lives of other men and women.

  And in the end of that ardent interview Jim Galloway's caution wasstill with him, his knowledge of the girl's nature clear in his mind.He did not ask her answer; he merely sought a third opportunity tospeak with her, suggesting that upon the next night she slip out andmeet him. He would have a horse for her, one for himself; they couldride for a half-hour. He had so much to tell her.

  Perhaps a much more important factor than she realized in her actionwas Florrie's new riding-habit. It had been acquired but three daysbefore and she knew very well just how she looked in it. There wouldbe a moon, almost at the full. The full moon and the new riding-habitwere the allies given by fate to Jim Galloway.

  Besides all of this, she had not seen Elmer Page for a month. Further,she knew that Elmer had gone riding upon at least one occasion with agirl of Las Palmas, Superintendent Kemble's daughter. And finally,there lies much rich adventure in just doing that which we know weshould leave alone. So Florrie, while her mother and father thoughtthat she had gone early to bed, was on her way to meet Galloway.

  They rode out of the cottonwood fringed arroyo just before moonrise,circling the town, Florrie scarcely marking whether they rode north orsouth. But Galloway knew what he was doing and they turned slowlytoward the southwest. As they rode, his horse drawn in close to hers,he talked as he had never talked before; his voice rang from the firstword with triumphant assurance.

  "When he calls she will follow!" Virginia had thought fearfully ofthem. To-night he was calling eloquently, she was following,frightened and yet obedient to his mastery.

  Galloway's influence over the girl, that of a strong will over a weakand fluttering one, was quite naturally the stronger when they werealone together. She had always been willing, sometimes a bit eager, tomake a hero of him; he had long thoroughly understood her. To-nightwas the brief battle of wills, with him summoning all of his strength,flushed with victory. Abruptly now he urged that she marry him; amoment later his insistent pleading was subtly tinged with command. Hewas the arbiter of the hour; he told her of a priest waiting for themat a little village a dozen miles away. They would be marriedto-night; they were eloping even at this palpitant instant!

  When Florence would have stopped, of two balancing minds, he urged thehorses on. When she would have procrastinated, he beat down heropposition with the rush of his words. Even while she struggled shewas yielding; Galloway was quick to see how her resistance was growingfainter. And all the time, while he spoke vehemently and she for themost part listened in a fascinated silence, they were riding on throughthe moonlit night. . . . It seemed to her that surely he must love heras few men had loved before. . . .

  The village he had promised her was in reality but two poor houses at acrossroads, inhabited by two Mexican men and dowdy women. On the waythey encountered but one horseman; Galloway turned his own andFlorence's animals out so that, though seen, they might escaperecognition. At the nearest of the two hovels he dismounted, raisinghis arms to her. When she cried out and shrank back trembling, helaughed softly, caught her in his arms, and lifted her free of thesaddle; when he would have kissed her she put her face into her twohands.

  "I . . . I want to go back!" she whispered. "I am afraid! Please, Mr.Galloway, please let me go home."

  Do
gs were barking, a man and woman came out. The man laughed. Then hegathered up the bridle-reins and led the horses to the barn. Florrie,shrinking out of Galloway's embrace, looked particularly little andhelpless in her pretty riding-habit.

  She went with Galloway into the lamplighted room. The woman looked ather curiously, then to Galloway, something of wonder and upstandingadmiration in her beady eyes.

  "Has the priest come?" demanded Galloway.

  "No, senor. Not yet."

  She added by way of explanation that word had been sent; that thepriest was delayed; a man was dying and he must stay a little at thebedside. She muttered the tale like a child repeating a lesson.Galloway, watching Florence, who sat rigid in her chair by the table,waited for her to finish.

  At the end he gave the woman a sharp, significant look. She saidsomething about a cup of coffee for the senorita and went hastily intothe kitchen. Florrie sprang to her feet, her hands clasped.

  "You must let me go," she cried wildly. "The priest isn't here. I amgoing home."

  "No," said Galloway steadily. "You are not going home, Florence. Youmust listen to me. I love you more than anything else In the world, mydear. I want you, want you all for mine."

  She saw a sudden light flare up in his eyes and it seemed to her thather heart would beat through the walls of her breast. "I am not a boy,but a man. A strong man, a man who, when he wants a thing, wants itwith his whole heart and body and soul, a man who takes what he wants.Wait; just listen to me! You love me now; you will love me more andmore when I give you all that I have promised you. To-night, in anhour, I will have made the beginning; I will have gathered about mefifty men who will do exactly what I tell them to do! Then they willgo with us down into Mexico; they will be the beginning of a littlearmy whose one thought will be loyalty . . . loyalty to you and to me."

  "No," said Florence, her voice shaking. "I am going. . . ."

  "You will marry me when the priest comes," he cut in sternly."Otherwise, if you make me, I will take you with me anyway, unmarried.And I will make you marry me when we have crossed the border. Andnow . . . now you will kiss me. I have waited long, Florence."

  He came toward her; she slipped behind the table, crying out to him tostop. But he came on, caught her, drew her into his arms. AndFlorrie, some new passionate, terrified Florrie, beat at him with herfists, tore at him with her nails, hid her face from him, and with theagility born of her terror slipped away from him again, again put thetable between them. Galloway, a thin line of blood across his cheek,thrust the table aside. As he did so the man came back into the roomand stood watching, a twisted smile upon his lips. Galloway lifted histhick shoulders in a shrug and stood staring at the girl cowering inher corner.

  "Married or unmarried, you go with me," he told her. "Your kisses youmay save for me. Think it over. You had better ask for the priestwhen I come back." He turned toward the Mexican. "All ready, Feliz?"

  The man nodded.

  "Tell Castro, then. It's time to be in the saddle."

  With no other word to Florrie he went out. But his last look was forher, the look of a victor.