The Mystery of The Barranca

by Herman Whitaker

  CHAPTER VIII

  A hard gallop of eight miles carried Francesca to the forks where thepath to and from Santa Gertrudis joined the main valley trail, and shehad traveled no more than a hundred yards beyond before she was rousedfrom renewed musings by the thud of hoofs. Turning in her saddle, shesaw Sebastien coming along the valley trail at a gallop. Passing the_mozo_, whose beast had lagged, the hacendado pulled his beast down toa trot, and as Tomas, answering a question, nodded backward toward thehills, vexation swept the girl's face.

  It cleared, however, as quickly, and while waiting for Sebastien shemeasured him with a narrow glance. The straight, lithe figure, easycarriage, dark, quiet face could stand inspection, and she paidunconscious tribute. "If I hadn't gone to Europe I suppose--" A decidedshake of the head completed while dismissing the thought. In the nextbreath she murmured, "Now for a fight." Yet her expression, salutinghim, displayed no apprehension.

  "Yes, I was at Santa Gertrudis." She quietly answered his question. "Twoof our people shot one of the gringos as he was leaving our place, andthe good _mama_ would have it that it was our duty to cure him."

  "Ah! the good mother?" He raised his brows. "And she chose you for herdoctor?"

  "As you see."

  "Yes, I see. 'No, Francesca, thou canst not go. It would not be rightfor a young girl--well, if you must--' I hear it as though I had beenthere, and wonder that the senora, who was brought up in the letter ofour conventions, should send her daughter to a gringo camp with only a_mozo_ for escort. But Don Luis? Is he also mad?"

  "No, only wise." She answered with irritating simplicity. "Take carethat you do not put heavier strains on a slight kinship. Third, fifth,tenth, just what is the degree of our cousinship?"

  "God knows!" He shrugged. "The slighter the better. 'Twill serve tillreplaced by a closer."

  "Which will be never."

  "Only the gods say 'never.'" He quoted the proverb. "But returning toyour _amigos_, the gringos--"

  "My _amigos_?"

  "You have received and repaid their visits. But listen! It is not thatI would set bounds for your freedom, but if you had stood, as I have,on a street corner in Ciudad, Mexico, and had heard the gringo touristspass comments on our women--_Dios_! I choke at the thought! If you butrealized their coxcombry, conceit, the contempt in which they hold us--"

  She had flushed slightly, but with a toss of her head she broke in: "Itis not necessary. I have heard young Mexican men comment on both our ownand American women. If the gringos can teach them any lessons--"

  "Apes!" he burst angrily in. "Fools! The degenerate apes who put on thevices of civilization with its collars!"

  "Perhaps. But, even so, it makes for the same point--there are gringosand gringos just as we have Mexicans _and_ Mexicans."

  "And these, of course, are the other sort?"

  "Exactly!" She robbed his sarcasm by her quiet. "If one judges, as onemust, by their behavior. I am pleased to find you, for once, of myopinion."

  "Of your opinion?" He regarded her with sudden sternness. "That is, tobe friends with these men who have forced themselves in on your lands?I had never expected to hear it fall from the lips of a Garcia. Nowlisten! What if your people did wound this man? Is he the first? Will hebe the last?" His face darkening under a rush of blood, he continued: "Ihad thought this pair would soon ruin themselves as did the other foolsbefore them. But since they are working on a surer plan--"

  "What do you mean?" She searched his face.

  "So anxious?" he laughed bitterly. "What is it to you?"

  "Only that I would not have them murdered."

  "And would they be the first? Is there a foot of Mexican soil which hasnot been soaked with good Mexican blood that you should be so carefulfor a gringo?" Slanting through an opening in the trees overhead the sunshone on his face, transforming it into a red mask of hate. "As yet noone of them has secured himself in the Barranca de Guerrero! So long asa Rocha is left to do the duty that belongs to the Garcias no one ofthem ever will."

  But now he had touched another string, and, straightening in her saddle,she gave him look for look. "When the Garcias need the Rochas to settletheir quarrels it will be time for you to interfere. I should not adviseyou to speak thus to my uncle."

  Nevertheless she flinched a little at his answer. "That is myintention--this very night."

  With that they rode on, in silence for a while, then speaking of otherthings. But when he left her in the upper courtyard an hour later shestood at her door, listening apprehensively to the jingle of his spursalong the gallery. When he took a chair beside Don Luis, who sat theresmoking, she listened for a while. Then, flushing suddenly, she hastilywent in.

  If she had remained there was nothing to hear, for during many minutesthe conversation ran altogether on the herds as they came winding infrom distant pastures to the corrals in the square. Night had reducedeverything to a dark blur before Sebastien commented on a yellow twinklehigh up on the Barranca wall.

  "That will be the gringos' light at Santa Gertrudis." After a longpause, "It is now a month past since they came, and--they are stillhere."

  Don Luis flicked the ash from his cigar. "What hurry?"

  "But this new business? The smelter you spoke of the other day."

  "_Si_, the smelter?"

  Sebastien gave his own interpretation to the other's slow tone. "Thenthere is something forward?"

  "What need? The gringo at the station tells me they have no money. Asingle mistake and they are done." After a sententious pause he added,"It is the part of youth to make mistakes."

  The dusk did not conceal the other's impatience. "But why this tendercare? Are they so different from the others? A word from thee and--"

  "Yes, yes, a nod and it would have been done long ago. There speaksyoung blood--the hot blood that lost us Texas and Alta California. Theselads are of good family, Sebastien, and there can be no disappearancewithout inquiry. Their death would be but one more thorn in the side ofthe rabid beast that requires small urging to devour us. No, let themmake their own end."

  "And Francesca? Is she to have the run of their camp?"

  Don Luis's deep laugh rumbled through the courtyard. "At last from along cast we come to the quarry. Francesca? She is a wild filly, thedespair of every staid tabby in the countryside. Long ago I discoveredthat the one way to manage her was to let her have her head. Nor will itbe the part of wisdom for thee to interfere."

  "Neither would I try--yet. Commands are for husbands; lovers must wait.That which I propose she will never know. It is--" Answering the other'sinterrogative look, he leaned over, whispering in rapid Spanish.

  Don Luis emitted an amused chuckle. "Sebastien, thou art truly a devil.Had thy father possessed but the half of thy wit, some things had gonedifferent in the last war. Yes, feet that are still spoiling good sodwould now be rotten bones." After a pause he went on: "It seems a scurvytrick, yet it depends on the men themselves. But--if they rise not atthe bait?"

  "If?" Sebastien repeated it with bitter scorn. "Was there ever a gringothat would not bite at such? They are kind as goats. I ask only that yougo there with Francesca at the close of the week."

  "And thou?"

  "I shall go there to-morrow."