CHAPTER XVII
AN OBSTINATE MAN
When Richard Gordon came back from unconsciousness to a world ofhaziness and headaches he was quite at a loss to account for hissituation. He knew vaguely that he was lying flat on his back and thathe was being jolted uncomfortably to and fro. His dazed brain registeredsensations of pain both dull and sharp from a score of bruised nervecenters. For some reason he could neither move his hands nor lift hishead. His body had been so badly jarred by the hail of blows throughwhich he had plowed that at first his mind was too blank to give himexplanations.
Gradually he recalled that he had been in a fight. He remembered a seaof faces, the thud of fists, the flash of knives. This must be thereason why every bone ached, why the flesh on his face was caked andwarm moisture dripped from cuts in his scalp. It dawned upon him that hecould not move his arms because they were tied and that the interferencewith his breathing was caused by a gag. When he opened his eyes he sawnothing, but whenever his face or hands stirred from the joltingsomething light and rough brushed his flesh; An odor of alfalfa filledhis nostrils. He guessed that he was in a wagon and covered with hay.
Where were they taking him? Why had they not killed him at once? Who wasat the bottom of the attack upon him? Already his mind was busy with theproblem.
Presently the jolting ceased. He could hear guarded voices. The alfalfawas thrown aside and he was dragged from his place and carried down somesteps. The men went stumbling through the dark, turning first to theright, and then to the left. They groped their way into a room anddropped him upon a bed. Even now they struck no light, but through asmall window near the ceiling moonbeams entered and relieved somewhatthe inky blackness.
"Is he dead?" someone asked in Spanish.
"No. His eyes were open as we brought him in," answered a second voiceguardedly.
They stood beside the bed and looked down at their prisoner. His eyeswere getting accustomed to the darkness. He saw that one of the men wasPablo Menendez. The other, an older Mexican with short whiskers, wasunknown to him.
"He fought like a devil from hell. Roderigo's arm is broken. Not one ofus but is marked," said the older man admiringly.
"My head is ringing yet, Sebastian," agreed Pablo. "_Dios_, how heslammed poor Jose down. The blood poured from his nose and mouth. Neveryet have I seen a man fight so fierce and so hard as this _Americano_.He may be the devil himself, but his claws are clipped now. And here helies till he does as we want, or----" The young Mexican did not finishhis sentence, but the gleam in his eyes was significant.
Pablo stooped till his eyes were close to those of the bound man."_Senor,_ shall I take the gag from your mouth? Will you swear not tocry out and not to make any noise?"
Gordon nodded.
"So, but if you do the road to Paradise will be short and swift,"continued Menendez. "Before your shout has died away you will be dead._Sabe, Senor_?"
He unknotted the towel at the back of his prisoner's head and drew itfrom Dick's mouth. Gordon expanded his lungs in a deep breath before hespoke coolly to his gaoler.
"Thank you, Menendez. You needn't keep your fist on that gat. I've nointention of committing suicide until after I see you hanged."
"Which will be never, _Senor_ Gordon," replied Pablo rapidly in Spanish."You will never leave here alive except on terms laid down by us."
"Interesting if true--but not true, I think," commented Dick pleasantly."You have made a mistake, my friends, and you will have to pay for it."
"If we have made a mistake it can yet be remedied, _Senor_" retortedPablo quietly. "We have but to make an end of you and behold! all iswell again."
"Afraid not, my enthusiastic young friend. Too many in the secret.Someone will squeal, and the rest of you--particularly you tworingleaders--will be hanged by the neck. It takes only ordinaryintelligence to know that. Therefore I am quite safe, even though I havea confounded headache and a rising fever." Gordon added with cheerfulsolicitude: "I do hope I'm not going to get sick on your hands. It'srather a habit of mine, you know. But, really, you can't blame me thistime."
A danger signal flared in the eyes of the young Mexican. "Better not,_Senor_. You will here have no young and charming nurse to wait uponyou."
"Meaning Mrs. Corbett?" asked the prisoner, smiling up impudently.
"Whose heart your soft words can steal away from him to whom itbelongs," continued Pablo furiously.
"Sho, I reckon Corbett----"
"_Mil diablos!_"
A devil of jealousy was burning out of the black eyes that blazed intothose of the American. It was no longer possible for Dick to miss themenace and its meaning. The Mexican was speaking of Juanita. He believedthat his prisoner had been making love to the girl and his heart wasblack with hate because of it.
Gordon looked at him steadily, then summed up with three derisive words."You damn fool!"
Something in the way he said them shook Pablo's conviction. Was itpossible after all that his jealousy had been useless? Juanita had toldhim that all through his delirium this man had raved of Miss Valdes.Perhaps---- But, no, had he not with his own eyes seen the man banteringJuanita while the color came and went in her wild rose cheeks? Had henot seen him lean on her shoulder as he hobbled out to the porch, justas a lover might on that of his sweetheart?
With an oath Pablo turned sullenly away. He knew he was no match forthis man at any point. Yet he was a leader among his own people becauseof the force in him.
Gordon slept little during the night. He had been so badly beaten thatoutraged nature took her revenge in a feverish restlessness thatprecluded any real rest. With the coming of day the temperaturesubsided. Pablo brought a basin of water and a sponge, with which hewashed the bloody face and head of the bound man.
Dick observed that his nurse had a few marks of his own as souvenirs ofthe battle. The cheek bone had been laid open by a blow that must havebeen made with his knuckles. One eye was half shut, and beneath it was adeep purple swelling.
"Had quite a little jamboree, didn't we?" remarked Gordon, with a grin."I'll bet you lads mussed my hair up some."
Pablo said nothing, but after he had made his unwilling guest aspresentable and comfortable as possible he proceeded to business.
"You want to know why we have made you prisoner, _Senor_ Gordon?" hesuggested. "It has perhaps occur to you that it would have been mucheasier to shoot you and be done?"
"Yes, that has struck me, Menendez. I reckon your nerve didn't quite runto murder maybe."
"Not so. I spare you because you save my brother's life after he shootat you. But I exact conditions. So?"
The eyes of the miner had grown hard and steelly. The lids had closed onthem so that only slits were open. "Let's hear them."
"First, that you give what is called word of honor not to push anycharges against those taking you prisoner."
"Pass that for the present," ordered Dick curtly. "Number two please."
"That you sign a paper drawn up by a lawyer giving all your rights inthe Rio Chama Valley to Senorita Valdes and promise never to go near thevalley again."
"Nothing doing," answered the prisoner promptly, his jaws snappingtight.
"But yes--most assuredly yes. I risk much to save your life. But youmust go to meet me, _Senor_. Is a man's life not worth all to him? So?Sign, and you live."
The eyes of the men had fastened--the fierce, black, eager ones of theMexican and the steelly gray ones of the Anglo-Saxon. There was therigor of battle in that gaze, the grinding of rapier on rapier. Gordonwas a prisoner in the hands of his enemy. He lay exhausted from aterrible beating. That issues of life and death hung in the balance achild might have guessed. But victory lay with the white man. The lidsof Menendez fell over sullen, angry eyes.
"You are a fool, _Senor_. We go to prison for no man who is our enemy.Pouf! When the hour comes I snuff out your life like that." And Pablosnapped his fingers airily.
"Maybe--and maybe not. I figure on living to be an old man. Tell youwhat I'll do,
Menendez. Turn me loose and I'll forget about our littlerumpus last night. I'd ought to send you to the pen, but I'll consent toforego that pleasure."
Sulkily Pablo turned away. What could one do with a madman who insistedon throwing his life away? The young Mexican was not a savage, thoughthe barbaric strain in his wild lawless blood was still strong. He didnot relish the business of killing in cold blood even the man he hated.
"If you kill me you'll hang," went on Gordon composedly. "You'll neverget away with it. Your own friends will swear your neck into a noose.Your partner Sebastian--you'll excuse me if I appear familiar, but Idon't know the gentleman's other name--will turn State's evidence to tryto save his own neck. But I reckon he'll have to climb the ladder, too."
Sebastian pushed aside his companion angrily and took the American bythe throat.
"_Por Dios_, I show you. If I hang I hang--but you----" His muscularfingers tightened till the face of his enemy grew black. But theeyes--the steady, cool, contemptuous eyes--still looked into hisdefiantly.
Pablo dragged his accomplice from the bedside. The time might come forthis, but it was not yet.
It had been a close thing for Gordon. If those lean, strong fingers hadbeen given a few seconds more at his throat they would have snapped thecord of life. But gradually the distorted face resumed its natural hueas the coughing, strangling man began to breathe again.
"Your--friend--is--impetuous," Dick suggested to Pablo as soon as hecould get the words out one at a time.
"He will shake the life out of you as a terrier does that of a rat,"Pablo promised vindictively.
"There's no fun--in being strangled, as you'll both--find out later,"the prisoner retorted whimsically but with undaunted spirit.
Sebastian had left the room. At the expiration of half an hour hereturned with a tray, upon which were two plates with food and two cupsof steaming coffee. The Mexicans ate their ham and their _frijoles_ anddrank their coffee. The prisoner they ignored.
"Don't I draw even a Libby Prison allowance?" the American wanted toknow.
"You eat and you drink after you have signed the paper," Pablo told him.
"I always did think we ate too much and too often. Much obliged for achance to work out my theories."
Gordon turned his back upon them, his face to the wall. Presently, inspite of the cramped position necessitated by his bound arms, he yieldedto weariness and fell asleep. Sebastian lay down in a corner of the roomand also slept. He and Pablo would have to relieve each other aswatchmen so long as they held their prisoner. For that reason they mustget what rest they could during the day.
Menendez found himself the victim of conflicting emotions. It had beeneasy while they were plotting the abduction to persuade himself that theman would grant anything to save his life. Now he doubted this. Lookingclown at the battered face of the miner, so lean and strong and virile,he could not withhold a secret reluctant admiration. How was it possiblefor him to sleep so easily and lightly while he lay within the shadow ofviolent death? There was even a little smile about the corners of hismouth, as if he were enjoying pleasant dreams. Never had Pablo knownanother man like this one. Had he not broken the spirit of that outlawdevil Teddy in ten minutes? Who else could shoot the heads off chickensat a distance as he had done? Was there another in New Mexico thatcould, though taken at advantage, put up so fierce a fight against bigodds? The young Mexican hated him because of Juanita and his oppositionto Miss Valdes. But the untamed and gallant spirit of the young man wentout in spite of himself in homage to the splendid courage and efficiencyof his victim.
Not till the middle of the afternoon did Gordon awaken. He was surprisedto find that his hands were free. Of Menendez he asked an explanation.
Pablo gave him none. How could he say that he was ashamed to keep himtied while two armed men were in the room to watch him?
"Move from that bed and I'll blow your brains out," the Mexican growledin Spanish.
Presently Pablo brought him a tin dipper filled with water.
"Drink, _Senor_" he ordered ungraciously.
Dick drank the last drop and smiled at his guard gratefully. "You'rewhite in spots, Mr. Miscreant, though you hate to think it of yourself,"he said lightly.
Odd as it may seem, Gordon found a curious pleasure in exploring themind of the young man. He detected the struggle going on in it, and hemade remarks so uncannily wise that the Mexican was startled at hisdivination. The miner held no grudge. These men were his enemies becausethey thought him a selfish villain who ought to be frustrated in hisdesigns. Long ago, in that school of experience which had made him thehard, competent man he was, Dick had learned the truth of the sayingthat to know all is to forgive all. He himself had done bold and lawlessthings often enough, but it was seldom that he did a mean one. Warilyalert though he was for a chance to escape, his feelings were quiteimpersonal toward these Mexicans. Confronted with the need, he wouldkill if he must to save himself; but it would not be because he wasvindictive.
Dick's mind was alert to every chance of escape. He studied hissituation as well as he could without moving from the bed. From theglimpse of the house he had had as the two men carried him in he knewthat it was a large, modern one set in grounds of considerable size. Hehad been brought down a flight of steps and was now in the basement. Wasthe house an unoccupied one? Or was it in the possession of some onefriendly to the scheme upon which the Mexicans had engaged?
A suspicion had startled him just after the men finished eating, but hehad dismissed it as a fantasy of his excited imagination. Sebastian,carrying out the dishes, had dropped a spoon and left it lying besidethe bed. Dick contrived, after he had wakened, to roll close to the edgeand look down. The spoon was still there. Two letters were engraved uponthe handle. They were A.V. If these stood for Alvaro Valdes, then thismust be the town house of Valencia, and she was probably a party to hisabduction.
He could not without distress of heart accept such a conclusion. She washis enemy, but she had seemed to him so frank and generous a one thatcomplicity in a plot of this nature had no part in the picture of herhis mind had drawn. He wrestled with the thought of this until he couldstand it no longer.
"Did Miss Valdes come to town herself, or is she letting you run thisabduction, Menendez?" he asked suddenly.
Pablo repeated stupidly, "Miss Valdes--the _senorita_?"
The keen, hard eyes of Gordon did not lift for an instant from those ofthe other man. "That's what I said."
It occurred to the Mexican that this was a chance to do a stroke ofbusiness for his mistress. He would show the confident _Americano_ whatplace he held in her regard.
His shoulders lifted in a shrug. "You are clevair, _Senor_. How do youknow the _senorita_ knows?"
"This is her house. She told you to bring me here."
Pablo was surprised. "So? You know it is her house?"
"Surest thing you know."
"The _senorita_ trusts me. She is at the ranch."
"But you are acting under her orders?"
"If the _senor_ pleases."
Dick turned his back to the wall again. His heart was bitter within him.He had thought her a sportsman, every inch a thoroughbred. But she hadset her peons to spy on him and to attack him--ten to one in theirfavor--so that she might force him to sign away his rights to her. Verywell. He would show her whether she could drive him to surrender,whether she could starve him into doing what he did not want to do.
The younger Mexican wakened Sebastian late in the afternoon and left himto guard the prisoner while he went into the town to hear what rumorswere flying about the affair. About an hour later he returned, bringingwith him some provisions, a newspaper, and a handbill. The latter hetossed to Gordon.
"Senor, I never saw five hundred dollars dangling within reach before.Shall I go to your friend and give him information?" asked Pablo.
Dick read the poster through with interest. "Good old Steve. He'sgetting busy. Inside of twenty-four hours he'll ferret out this spot."
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p; "It may be too late," Pablo flung back significantly. "If they press ushard we'll finish the job and make a run for it."
They were talking in Spanish, as they did most of the time. The prisonerread aloud the offer on the handbill.
"Please notice that I'm worth no more alive than you are if I'm dead. Ireckon this town is full of friends of yours anxious to earn fivehundred plunks by giving a little information. Let me ask a question ofyou. Suppose you do finish the job and hit the trail. Where would yougo?"
"The hills are full of pockets. We could hide and watch a chance to getout of the country."
"We wouldn't have to hide. Jesu Cristo, who would know we did it?"chipped in Sebastian roughly.
"Everybody will know it soon. You made a bad mistake when you didn'tbump me off at the start. All your friends that helped bushwhack me willitch to get that five hundred, Sebastian. As to hiding--well, I was aranger once. Offer a reward, and everybody is on the jump to earn it.The way these hills are being combed this week by anxious man-huntersyou'd never reach your cache."
"Maybe we would and maybe we wouldn't. We'll have to take a chance onthat," replied the bearded Mexican sullenly.
To their prisoner it was plain that the men were I growing more anxiousevery hour. They regretted the course they had followed and yet couldsee no way of safety opening to them. Suspicious by nature, Sebastianjudged the American by himself. If their positions were reversed, heknew he would break any pledge he might make and go straight to thesheriff with his story. Therefore they could not with safety release theman. To kill him would be dangerous. To keep him prisoner was possibleonly for a limited time. Whatever course they followed seemed precariousand uncertain. Temperamentally he was inclined to put an end to the manand try a bolt for the hills, but he found in Pablo an unexpecteddifficulty. The young man would not hear of this. He had made up hismind riot to let Gordon be killed if he could prevent it, though he didnot tell the American so.
Menendez made another trip after supplies next day, but he came backhurriedly without them. Pesquiera's poster offering a reward of onehundred dollars for the capture of him or Sebastian had brought him upshort and sent him scurrying back to his hole.
Gordon used the poster for a text. His heart was jubilant within him,for he knew now that Valencia was not back of this attack upon him.
"All up with you now," he assured them in a genial, offhand fashion."Miss Valdes must be backing Pesquiera. They know you two are the guiltyvillains. Inside of twelve hours they'll have you both hogtied."
Clearly the conspirators were of that opinion themselves. They talkedtogether a good deal in whispers. Dick was of the opinion that aproposition would be made him before morning, though it was justpossible that the scale might tip the other way and his death be voted.He spent a very anxious hour.
After dark Sebastian, who was less well known in the town than Pablo,departed on an errand unknown to Gordon. The miner guessed that he wasgoing to make arrangements for horses upon which to escape. Dick was nottold their decision. Menendez had fallen sulky again and refused totalk.
A Daughter of the Dons: A Story of New Mexico Today Page 17
