The Mystery of The Barranca

by Herman Whitaker

  CHAPTER VII

  One afternoon about a week later Mr. William Thornton was to be seenmixing mortar for the bricks he was laying on the smelter foundation.Rising almost sheer from the edge of the bench behind him, the Barrancawall shut off the western breeze, and from its face the fierce sunblazewas reflected in quivering waves of heat. Coming out from an early lunchhe had noted that the thermometer registered ninety in the shade, andhe was now ready to swear that with one more degree he himself would beable to supply all the moisture required for the operation.

  While working he cast occasional glances toward the house; and when, themortar being mixed, he began to lay brick he used the trowel with carelest its clink should awaken Seyd. For though the blood loss from asevered artery had left him quite weak, he had obstinately refused tostop work. To-day he had even balked at the suggestion of a siesta untilBilly had lain down himself. As soon as Seyd fell asleep Billy hadslipped out, and when he now paused to listen the concern in his lookpassed into sudden attention as the clink of a shod hoof rose up fromthe trail below.

  Five minutes passed before he heard it again, and in the mean time hisactions bespoke an intelligent appreciation of the needs of the case.Picking up a Winchester which leaned against a tree, he crouched behindhis bricks, and while training it on the point where the trail emergedon the bench a ferocious scowl overshadowed his sunburn.

  "If we played it your way I'd brown you the second your nose shows," hemuttered as the hoofbeats grew louder. "Thank your musty old saints thatwe don't. Ah! Eh? Well!"

  The interjections respectively fitted the wolf hound, her youngmistress, and the _mozo_, as they appeared in the order named. As onlyBilly's head showed over the bricks, and both were on the same colorscheme, he was practically invisible; and, reining up her beast, thegirl allowed her curious gaze to wander around the bench from thegaping hole where the drift ran into the vein over the adobe hut andfoundation--just missing Billy's head--to the blue-green piles of copperore.

  "So this is the _mina_!" Her tone denoted disappointment. "Good heavens!Tomas, is this the wealth the gringos seek? What an ado over a pile ofstones! I should think Don Luis would be thankful to have them cartedaway."

  She had spoken in Spanish, but when, having shed his arsenal undercover of the bricks, Billy rose and came forward, she addressed him inEnglish. "Mr. Thornton, is it not? We have brought the papers from theadministrador--at least, Tomas has. I am playing truant. Though it isonly fifteen miles from here to San Nicolas, this is the first time thatI have seen the place. Where is Mr. Seyd?"

  Now than Billy, was there never a young man more naturally chivalrous.Usually a locomotive could not have dragged from him a single wordcalculated to shock or offend a girl. But in his confusion at findingan expected enemy changed into a charming friend he let slip the nakedtruth. "He was shot--returning from your place."

  "Senor! He--he is not--dead?"

  There was no mistaking her concern. Sorry for his abruptness, Billyplunged to reassure her. "No! no! Only wounded."

  "Is he--much hurt?"

  It occurred to Billy that a flesh wound was, after all, rather a smallprice for such solicitude. But where a touch of jealousy might havecaused another to make light of Seyd's wound, his natural unselfishnessmade him paint it in darker colors. "The bullet cut an artery, and he'spretty weak from loss of blood. Yet he won't lay off. I had to trick himinto a siesta to-day. I'll go call him."

  But she raised a protesting hand. "No! no! Let him sleep. You can givehim the papers. Tell him when he awakes that he will hear from usagain."

  With a smile which caused Billy additional regret for his lack of woundsshe rode off at a pace which filled him with anxiety for her neck. Untilhe caught a glimpse of her, foreshortened to a dot on the trail farbelow, he stood watching. Then, muttering "I'll bet Seyd will raise Cainwhen he awakes," he went back to his work.

  Nor was he mistaken, for when Seyd came out, yawning and stretching, anhour or so later, the last vestige of sleep was burned up by the suddenflash of his eyes. "You darned chump! Do we have visitors so often thatyou let me sleep on like a rotten log?"

  Neither was he appeased by Billy's answer, delivered with an irritatinggrin: "Why should she wish to see you when I was around? A pallid wretchwho has to make three tries to cast a shadow!"

  "He has, has he?" Seyd growled. "Well, I'm solid enough to punch yourfat head."

  The atmosphere having thus been cleared, he commented: "Went off to tellthe General, eh? I wonder how he'll take it?"

  "Shouldn't imagine he'd shed any tears--unless at their poor shooting.Well, we'll see!"

  And see they did, for as they sat at lunch on the second day thereaftera yell followed by the crack of a whip brought them out just in time tosee Caliban, the charcoal-burner, and the peon rice-huller coming on ashuffling run ahead of Tomas. The bloody bandages which bound the headof one and the leg of the other testified to Seyd's shooting, just astheir glazed eyes and painful pantings told of the merciless run aheadof the _mozo_. It required only the hempen halter which each wore aroundhis neck to complete the picture of misery.

  "These be they that attacked you, senor?" While the rice-huller squirmedunder a sudden cut of his whip the _mozo_ went on: "This son of a devilwas found nursing a wound in his hut, and he told on the other. Don Luissends them with his compliments to be hanged at your leisure. If itplease you to have it done now--there is an excellent tree."

  Too surprised to answer, Seyd and Billy stood staring at each otheruntil, taking silence for consent, the _mozo_ began to herd his chargestoward the said tree. "Here!" Seyd called him back. "This is kind ofDon Luis, and you will please convey to him our thanks. It is verythoughtful of you to pick out such a fine tree, but, while we are surethat they would look very nice upon it, it is not the habit with ourpeople to hang save for a killing, and I, as you see, am alive."

  The _mozo's_ dark brows rose to the eaves of his hair. "But of what use,senor, to hang _after_ the killing? Will the death of the murderer bringthe murdered to life? But hang him in good season and you will haveno murder. And this is a good tree, low, with strong, wide branchesordained for the purpose. See you! One throw of the rope, a pull, aknot--'tis done, easily as drinking, and they are out of your way."

  It was good logic; but, while admitting it, Seyd still pleaded hisfoolish national custom.

  Though his bent brows still protested against such squeamishness, the_mozo_ politely submitted. "_Bueno!_ it is for you to say. I leave themat your will to cure or kill."

  "Now, what shall we do?" Seyd consulted Billy. "If we send them back theold Don will surely hang them."

  "Well, what if he does? I'm sure that I don't care a whoop--" He paused,then suddenly exclaimed: "Are we crazy? Here we have been chasing laborall over the valley, and now that it is offered us free we turn upnoses. Keep them, you bet! Put it into Spanish as quickly as you can."

  Smiling, the _mozo_ nodded comprehension. "As you say, senor, a liveslave is better than a dead thief. They are at your orders to kill byrope or work."

  Though it was scarcely his thought, Seyd allowed it to go at that.Throwing the ends of the halters to Billy, the _mozo_ concluded hismission. "It remains only to say that Don Luis will have you come toSan Nicolas till your wound is cured."

  "Fine!" Billy enthusiastically commented, when the invitation wastranslated. "I've said all along that you ought to lay off. Go down fora week. By the time you come back I'll have these chaps beautifullybroken."

  "And you unable to speak a word of Spanish--not to mention the risk toyour throat?" Seyd shook his head. "Besides, the old fellow made nobones of his feelings the other day. The invitation is merely inreparation for what he considers a violation of his hospitality. If itwasn't--My place is here."

  Accordingly, the _mozo_ carried back to San Nicolas a note which, if notpenned in the best Spanish, yet caught its grave courtesy so cleverlythat its perusal at the dinner table caused Francesca to pause andlisten, drew an approving smile from the se
nora, and produced from DonLuis his heavy nod.

  "The young man is a fine _caballero_. Your ordinary gringo would havesaddled himself upon us for three months, and we should have been wornto skeletons by his parrot chatter. As he lets us off so easily, I mustride up to the mine and warn those rascals to play him no tricks."

  * * * * *

  Meanwhile Seyd and Billy had been giving the disposition of the saidrascals considerable thought. After the _mozo_ left, Billy cut thehalters from around their necks and brought them food and drink fromthe house. But whether or no they considered this fair front as beingassumed to emphasize future tortures the two kept their sullen silence.

  "If we have to stand guard all the time we'd be better without them,"Billy doubted.

  "Yes," Seyd acquiesced. "Unless we can find some incentive. I wonderif they have families." When the two returned nods to his questionshe continued, hopefully: "There we have it. Your Mexican peon takeshomesickness worse than a Swiss. If we offer them a fair wage while thesmelter is building I think they'll prove faithful. At least we cantry."

  To an experienced eye--the _mozo's_, for instance--the suddenbrightening of the dark faces might have meant something else thanrelief. At first Caliban seemed to find the good news impossible. Butpresently, setting it down as another idiocy of the foolish gringos,his incredulity vanished. In one hour he and the rice-huller weretransformed from sullen foes to eager servants. Indeed, what with theirwilling work that afternoon and next morning, the smelter foundation hadrisen a full yard by the time that Don Luis came riding up to the bench.

  Looking up from a blue print of the foundation, Seyd saw him coming atthe heavy trot which combined military stiffness with vaquero ease, andnoting the keen glance with which he swept the bench the thought flashedupon him, "Now the cat's out of the bag!" He did not, however, try tosmuggle the animal in again. When, greetings over, Don Luis turned acurious eye on the foundation he answered the unspoken question. "Asmelter, senor."

  "A smelter?" For once the old fellow's massive self possession showedslight disturbance. "I thought--"

  "That it took a fortune to build one." Seyd filled in his pause. "Itdoes--to put in a modern plant." While he went on explaining that thiswas merely an old-style Welch furnace of small capacity he felt theconstraint under the old man's quiet, and was thereby stimulated to amischievous addition. "You see, the freight rates on crude ore from thispoint are prohibitive, but one can make good money by smelting it downinto copper matte."

  "A good plan, senor." Like a tremor on a brown pool, his disquietpassed. "And how long will it be in the building?"

  "We had calculated on four months. But with the help you so kindly sentus we can do it now in two."

  He could not altogether repress a mischievous twinkle. But Don Luis gaveno sign. "_Bueno!_ It was for this that I came--to read these rascalstheir lesson." Menacing the peons with a weighty forefinger, he went on:"Now, listen, _hombres_! Since it has pleased the senor to save youalive, see that you repay his mercy with faithful labor. If there be anyfailure, tricks, or night flittings, remember that there is never arabbit hole in all Mexico but where Luis Garcia can find you."

  Emphasizing the threat with another shake of his finger, he turnedand went on with quiet indifference to comment upon the scenery. "Abeautiful spot. Once I had thought to build here, but one cannot live onthe edge of a cliff, and San Nicolas has its charm. Is it true that wecannot tempt you to come down? The senora begs that you reconsider."

  But he nodded his appreciation of Seyd's reasons. "_Si, si,_ a man'splace is with his work--and I have stayed too long. There is businessforward at Chilpancin, and even now I should be miles on the way."

  "Will you not stay for lunch?" Seyd protested.

  But replying that he had already lunched at a ranch in the valley, theold man rode away on his usual heavy lope. "You see," Seyd commented,watching him go, "it is all right for me to accept his invitation, buthe will not eat of our bread."

  "Well, I don't blame him," Billy answered. "I'd feel sore myself if Iwere he. But, say, we're getting quite gay up here. Regular socialwhirl. I wonder who's next? We only need mamma to complete the family."

  The remark was prophetic, for, while the senora did not herself bravethe Barranca steeps, only two days thereafter Francesca and the _mozo_reappeared driving before them a mule whose panniers were crammed witheggs and cheese, butter and honey, fruit, both fresh and preserved, alsoa full stock of bandages, liniments, curative simples, and home-madecordials. While unpacking them on the table in their house the girllaughingly explained that if Seyd would not come to be cured the curesmust needs come to him.

  "This is a wash for the wound." She patted a large fat jug. "This otheris to be taken every hour. Of this liquor you must take a glass atbed-time. Those pills must be swallowed when you rise. This"--notingBilly's furtive grin, she finished with a laugh--"you will not have roomfor more. Give the rest to Mr. Thornton. But under pain of the goodmamma's severest displeasure I am to see you drink at least two cups ofthis soup."

  "You shall if you stay to lunch," Seyd said. "Billy makes gorgeousbiscuit, and they'll go finely with the honey."

  "If you can eat bacon--we have only that and a few canned things," Billyadded, a little dubiously, and would have extended the list ofshortcomings only that she broke in:

  "Just what I like. I'm tired of Mexican cooking, and I am dreadfullyhungry."

  That this was no idle assertion she presently proved, and while sheate of their rough food with the appetite of perfect health theiracquaintance progressed with the leaps and bounds natural to youth.Before the end of the meal she had drawn Billy completely out of hispainful bashfulness, and he was telling her with great pride of hisbeautiful sister while she contemplated her photograph with head helddelicately askew.

  "Yes, she's fair," he told her, adding with great pride, "but not a bitlike me."

  "The most wonderful hair!" Seyd volunteered. "Darkest Titian above askin of milk."

  "Oh, you make me envious!" she cried, with real feeling. "I love redhair. Luisa Zuluaga, my schoolmate in Brussels, had it combined withgreat black Spanish eyes. She got her colors from an Irish greatgrandfather who came over a century ago to coin pesos for the Mexicanmint. Now, why couldn't I have had them?"

  Observing the fine-spun cloud that flew like a dark mist aroundthe ivory face, Seyd could not find it in his heart to blame hergrandfather, and, if good taste debarred him from saying it, the beliefwas nevertheless expressed through the permitted language of the eyes.Perhaps this accounted for the suddenness with which her long darklashes swept down over certain mischievous lights.

  Any but an expert in feminine psychology might indeed have found himselfpuzzled by certain phases of her manner. Its sympathy, addressing Billy,would give place to a slight reserve with Seyd, then this would melt andgive place to unaffected friendliness. Occasionally, too, she offeredall the witchery of her smiles, yet the hypothetical expert would neverhave suspected her of coquetry. The feeling was far too mischievous forthe fencing of sex. Its key was to be found in the thought that passedin her mind. "'Almost pretty enough to marry,' you said. The trouble isthat my girlish beauty is in inverse ratio to my future fatness. What apity!"

  Yet this little touch of pique was never sufficiently pronounced tointerfere with her real enjoyment. As for them--it was a goldenoccasion. If they ate little, they still feasted their eyes on the facethat bloomed like a rich flower in the soft shadows of the adobe hut,their ears on her low laughter and soft woman's speech. They found ithard to believe when she sprang up with a little cry: "I have been heretwo hours! Now I have earned my scolding. The _madre_ only let me comeunder a solemn promise to be back before sunset."

  Had they been unaware of the principal concomitant in the charm of thehour, knowledge would have been forced upon them when she rode away,for, though the birds still sang and the hot sun poured a flood of lightand heat down on the bench, somehow things looked and felt cold andg
ray.

  And she? Going downgrade an afterglow of smiles lent force to hermurmur: "Gringos or no, they are very nice."