With Hoops of Steel

by Florence Finch Kelly

  CHAPTER XXV

  "It was Amada Garcia put me on," said Nick Ellhorn to Emerson Mead andTom Tuttle, as the three sat in Mead's room, whither they went at onceto hear Nick's story. "One morning the first of this week Miss Delaruecame runnin' up to me on the street and said Amada was sick at herhouse and had walked all the way in from Garcia's ranch and hadsomething to tell that she wouldn't say to anybody but Emerson. I wentover to see if she would tell me what she wanted, and Emerson canthank her, and the _padre_, for gettin' out of this scrape with thelaugh on the other side. She thought she was goin' to die and hadunloaded her soul on to the _padre_, and he had ordered her to tellEmerson Mead what she had told him. I reckon the little witch wouldn'thave peeped about it to anybody if the _padre_ hadn't made her. Shedidn't want to say a word to me, and at first she said she wouldn't,but I finally made her understand she couldn't see Emerson, and Iswore by all the saints I could think of that I'd tell him and nobodyelse exactly what she said. So then she whispered in my ear that SenorMead didn't kill Senor Whittaker, and I inched her along until I gotout of her that Will Whittaker wasn't dead.

  "That was all she meant to tell me, but I was bound to get all sheknew. And I got it, but I want to tell you right now, boys, that I hada hell of a time gettin' it. Every time I got a new thing out of hershe'd make me get down on my knees and kiss the crucifix and swear bya dozen fresh saints that I wouldn't tell anybody but Don Emerson, andthat he wouldn't tell anybody else, and that nothin' should happen toDon Will because she had told it.

  "She finally admitted that she and Will Whittaker had been secretlymarried away last spring and had never said a word about it toanybody. By that time I felt pretty sure that it was Mr. Will himselfwho had made a killin', and I sprung my suspicion on her andthreatened her with the _padre_ and swore a lot of things by a wholeheap of fresh saints, and she finally told me just what had happened.

  "It seems that a cousin of hers--one of their everlastin' _primos_ inthe sixty-third degree, I reckon--came up from down along the linesomewheres, and she was so glad to see him and he was so glad to seeher that he hugged her and stooped over to kiss her--I reckon likelyshe'd been flirtin' her eyes and her shoulders at him--when bang!bang! bang! and he dropped dead at her feet and there was _esposo_Will in the door, mad with jealousy and ready to kill her too. Say,boys!" Nick stopped short, the stream of his narrative interrupted bya certain memory. "Say, that was what it was!" And he slapped histhigh with delight at having solved a mystery. "That's the reason shehad such fantods when I wanted to kiss her that day last summer! Itwas just because she happened to remember this other time!"

  The others smiled and chuckled and Mead said: "You know I told youthen, Nick, it wasn't because she didn't like your looks!"

  "Well, he was ready to kill her, too, but she threw herself on him andbegged for her life and swore the man was her cousin and there was noharm, and presently Will's companion came runnin' in and they got theyoung man cooled off. He and the other man talked together a littlewhile and then they put Will's clothes on the corpse and Will dressedhimself in the dead man's and they took the dead body away in thewagon, and Amada washed up all the blood stains and never let a soulknow what had happened, because Will told her if she did her fatherwould sure have him arrested and hung. And he made her swear to be afaithful wife to him and promised to send for her as soon as he could.

  "So she waited for word from him all summer, and the other day therecame a letter, and the same day she found out that her mother meantfor her to marry some young Mexican blood at Muletown. Then she madeup her mind to go to Will, although he had told her he couldn't sendfor her for another month or two. That night she started off alone inthe dark and walked to Muletown. Somebody gave her a ride across theplain and then she walked to Plumas from the Hermosa pass.

  "I made up my mind right then and there that I'd yank that young scrubback to Plumas quicker'n hell could singe a cat, but she wouldn't tellme where he was. And maybe I didn't have a skin-your-teeth sort of atime gettin' it out of her! I just tell you that little girl is cuteenough to take care of herself most anywhere, and don't you forget it!I coaxed her and she'd coax back, and I threatened her and she'd comeback at me with all the things I'd sworn not to tell, and I wheedledher as Irish as the pigs in Drogheda, and she'd lie back on the pillowand smile at me--and all the time just lookin' too sweet and prettyand sick--well, it was the hardest job I ever tackled. Boys, I surereckon that little handful of a girl would have been too many for meand we'd have been palaverin' yet if she hadn't gone too weak to talkany more. I saw she was mighty near played out, and I just sickedmyself on for all I was worth. I felt ornery enough to go off and gethorned by a steer, but I reckoned I sure had to. She gave up at last,when she couldn't hold out any longer, and agreed to let me see theenvelope her letter had come in if I'd kiss the crucifix and swear bya few more saints that I wouldn't let anybody touch Will, and swearover again on my knees everything I'd promised her before. I finallygot through with all the religious doin's she could think of, andthen I lit out for the train. I heard it comin' when I left French'shouse, and I made a run for it, which was why I didn't tell JudgeHarlin where I was goin'. I couldn't stop to say a word to anybodywithout missin' the train and losin' a day.

  "The only clue I had was that he was at Chihuahua, and at work atsomething, I didn't know what, and I thought likely he was _pasearing_around under an assumed name, which he was. I nosed around for twodays, layin' low and keepin' mighty quiet, and you better guess I madea quick scoot through Juarez, too."

  The others grinned broadly and as Nick stopped to light a fresh cigarTom said:

  "I sure thought, Nick, that you'd never get back alive, for I knewyou-all must have gone off some place you'd no business to go alone,and I'd have started off on a blind hunt for you in another day."

  "Well, I run across him by accident on the street one evening, and youought to have seen him turn white and shaky when I stepped up andspoke to him. The boy's nerve's all gone, and you know he used to havethe devil's own grit. You-all saw how he acted when I got him into thecourt room this afternoon. I reckon it takes all the sand out of afellow to live in the dark and be all the time afraid something'sgoin' to drop, the way he's done all summer.

  "'Hullo, Will,' says I, and then I took pity on him and showed myhand right from the start. But I'd sized him up all in a minute, and Ireckoned that would work best anyway. 'I haven't got any warrant foryou,' says I, 'and I don't mean to arrest you, and I've sworn to AmadaGarcia not to let any harm happen to you, but I've got a proposition Iwant to talk over with you, if you'll take me somewheres where we canbe private.' For I didn't mean to let him out of my sight again untilI got him into the court room at Plumas, and I didn't, neither. Hetook me to his room and we chinned the thing over for two or threehours. He knew that everybody thought he was dead and that his bodyhad been found, and that Emerson was being tried for his murder. Buthe'd started out on that lay and he was afraid to go back on it.

  "He told me the whole story, on my promise to keep it secret. I toldhim I'd have to tell it to you-all, because Emerson had the right toknow it, and Tommy would be sure to go makin' some bad break if hedidn't know it, but that I'd give him my word of honor it shouldn't gooutside of us three. He was just gone plum' crazy on Amada, and oneday he was at her house when a justice of the peace from Muletown camealong. The old folks were out in the fields and for a good, plump feethe justice married them right then and there. They had no witnesses,and it happened that the justice died in a week--it was old Crowby,from Muletown, you remember him. Will was deathly afraid his fatherwould find it out and be bull roaring mad about it and hist him outof the country, and so he didn't dare say a word about it, and he madeAmada keep it secret, too. Well, the boy's young, and I reckon that'ssome excuse for him, but I'll be everlastingly horn-spooned if I thinkhis father's got much reason to be proud of him.

  "Then came the day when he stepped to the door and saw that Mexican_primo_ hugging her, and he swore to me that
all in a flash he was sowild with anger and jealousy he didn't know what he was doin' until heheard the report and the man dropped dead--that he didn't rememberdrawin' or takin' aim, or anything but just wantin' to kill. When hecooled down and realized what he had done he was in a regular panic.If he gave himself up the facts about the wedding would have to comeout, in order to protect Amada, and then his father would roar, andprobably cast him off if he wouldn't give her up, and if he escapedconviction for the murder the _primo's_ relatives would be dead sureto get even with him. The only way he could see out of it was to hidethe body and skip. The man who was with him--a cow-boy they had justhired who had come out of the mountains to make a stake so he could goprospectin' again--Bill Frank was his name, and I told him yes, I knewhim--well, this man offered to see him out for the stake he'd expectedto have to work some time for, and as Will had some money in hisclothes they made the bargain and skipped. They changed the clothingand carried the body in their wagon up to the White Sands and buriedit. It was them that held you up, Tom, that night last spring, and itwas Will Whittaker, in the Mexican's duds, that you thought was aMexican, who slunk around in the bushes and held the gun on you partof the time. They had the Mexican's body in the wagon and they didn'tmean to allow any curiosity about it or about their business, andyou'd have dropped dead in your tracks if you'd shown any."

  "I knew that very well all the time I was with 'em," Tom answeredquietly.

  "When they got nearly to the railroad they burned the wagon and killedthe horses, and Will scooted for Mexico, and he's been in Chihuahuaever since.

  "'My boy,' I says to him, 'you've got to come back with me.' 'Ican't,' says he, 'it will be my everlasting ruin if I do.' 'Face themusic like a man,' I said, 'and get out of it what you can.' I couldsee by his eyes that he was honin' to come back, but he was almightyafraid, I reckon mostly on Amada's account. He's plum' daft abouther--and I don't know as I blame him very much--and he told me he hadplanned to get her down there soon.

  "'How can I go back?' says he. 'I'll be arrested and tried andprobably convicted.' 'No, you won't,' says I. 'You go back with me andget Emerson Mead out of this scrape and I'll give you my word ofhonor you won't be arrested.' 'But what can I say?' he says. 'How canI explain?' 'Hell!' says I. 'Explain nothin'! Tell your father as muchor as little as you like, and if Colonel Whittaker walks down Mainstreet with his head up and his mouth shut I reckon nobody's goin' toask him any impudent questions. If you want any help yourself you'vegot Nick Ellhorn and Emerson Mead and Tommy Tuttle behind you, and ifyou think them three couldn't send the devil himself sashayin' downthe Rio Grande you'd better not say so to yours truly. If you don'twant to stay there, take Amada and get out, and if your father won'tset you up somewheres we three will see that you have what you need.And whatever he does we'll give you a thousand apiece anyway.'

  "'I wish I dared!' says he. 'Will Whittaker,' says I, 'Amada Garciastarted out to come to you with only four dollars in her pocket, andshe walked in the night nearly all the way to Plumas, and then shenearly died givin' premature birth to your child, because she hadtried to find you.' With that he jumped up and grabbed my arm andcould hardly speak, for I hadn't told him about any of that businessbefore.

  "'She isn't dead,' says I, 'but you may thank Miss Delarue that sheisn't. The child was born dead. But do you think, after all that,you-all can do any less than go back and marry her again, with apriest and a ring and a white dress and all the rest of it? Do youthink, after that, you-all can do any less than pretend you're a man,and ever face yourself in the glass again without smashin' it?'

  "He dropped back in his chair with his face in his hands and cried,actually cried. But I sure reckon he was shook up pretty sudden bywhat I told him about Amada. I didn't say any more, but I just made upmy mind that if he hung back after that I'd tie my Chiny pig tailaround his neck and yank him back to Plumas like a yellow dog at theend of a string.

  "After a little while he said he'd go. I knew he meant it, but I wasso almighty afraid he'd go back on it if he got thinkin' about hisfather and skip on me that I didn't let him out of my sight while hewas awake, and at night I tied his arm fast to mine with my pig tail.

  "Well, when we finally got to Plumas I just concluded Emerson's neckwasn't in danger for another hour, and that I'd better set thatlittle girl straight the first thing I did, before the young chapgot under his father's thumb. I knew he meant all right and lovedher like hell's blazes, but he's more afraid of his father than aself-respectin' young man of his age ought to be. So we went straightto Miss Delarue's. I tell you what, boys, that Miss Delarue is aregular royal flush. There ain't another girl can stack up with her inthe whole territory. I took Will Whittaker in and told her how mattersstood, and you ought to have seen how pleased she was! If it had beenher own weddin' she couldn't have been more interested, or lookedhappier. She was as glad to see Will as if he'd been her own brother,and all because she likes poor little Amada, and was glad to see hermade happy, for of course it didn't concern her any other way."

  A little smile moved Mead's lips as he heard this, and he turned hiseyes away to hide the happy look he felt was in them, for he knew howdeep were Marguerite's reasons to be glad the runaway had returned.

  "While I went down-town to hunt up the _padre_," Nick went on, "shefixed Amada up with a white veil--you know these Mexican girls hardlythink they've been married if they haven't had a white veil on--and abunch of white flowers and a white sack that was all lace and ribbonsover her night gown--for Amada's in bed yet, and had to be propped upon the pillows--and then she and I stood up with 'em and put our namesdown as witnesses. Then I marched the young man up to the court-house,and you-all know what happened there."

  "I saw you talking with Colonel Whittaker," said Mead. "Did you tellhim about the wedding?"

  "You bet I did! I was plum' determined he should hear some straighttalk about that, and if that little girl don't have a fair show withthe Whittaker family it won't be my fault."

  "What did you-all say to him?" Tom asked.

  "Oh, I gave it to him straight from the shoulder! 'ColonelWhittaker,' I said, 'I've brought your son back to you alive, and I'mgoin' to see to it that no harm comes to him because he's been away.He can tell you as much or as little as he likes, but I know the wholestory, and I want to tell you right now that if anybody tries to gethim into trouble about it they've got Nick Ellhorn and Tom Tuttle andEmerson Mead to buck against, and there's my hand on it. But youneedn't thank me. You can thank a little Mexican girl whose name wasAmada Garcia, but it's Amada Whittaker now. They have been marriedwithout any proof of it ever since last spring, but they are marriedtight and fast now, _padre_ and witnesses and the whole thing, and Ihelped 'em to do it not an hour ago. Now, keep your temper, Colonel,'says I, 'and wait till I get through. I know you'll be disappointedand mad, but you'd better keep cool and make the best of it, for thegirl's just as good as you are, if she is a Mexican, and she's a wholeheap too good for your son. And she's just the cutest and prettiestlittle piece of calico you ever laid your eyes on, in the bargain.Now, don't try to step in and make a mess of this, Colonel,' I said,'for you won't succeed if you do try, because the boy has got Emersonand Tom and me to back him, and if you-all don't play a father's parttoward him we will. If you should get him away from her you'd justsimply send your son to the devil, and he'd be the devil's own brat ifhe let you do it.

  "'Now, Colonel,' says I, 'you-all better go and make a call on yournew daughter-in-law, and find out from Will what she's done to protecthim and get to him, and if you don't take her right into camp you'renot the gentleman and the judge of beauty I take you for. Besides,Colonel' says I, 'if Amada gets the right kind of treatment from youand your folks, my bargain with Will holds. If she don't--well, I'llkeep my word, of course, but there's likely to be consequences.'"

  Nick's narrative came to its end and for a few minutes the three mensmoked in silence. Then Ellhorn turned half reluctantly to Mead:

  "Say, Emerson, that was mighty queer a
bout those three bullet holes.We sure thought nobody but you-all could do that."

  Mead smiled, thinking of Marguerite. "Even if he was shot in theback?" he said quietly.

  Nick and Tom looked at each other with chagrin on their faces. "We-allnever thought of that!" Tom exclaimed.

  "And he did need killin' so damn bad," said Nick, "and you-all neversaid a word to deny it."

  "I don't usually deny things I'm charged with," said Mead.

  "That's so, Emerson, you don't," assented Tom.

  "People are welcome to believe anything they like about me," Mead wenton, "and I don't intend to belittle myself askin' 'em not to. It's allright, boys. I didn't blame you for believin' I'd done it But I didthink you'd notice he'd been shot in the back. I'm goin' out now. I'llsee you later." And he hurried off down Main street to find PierreDelarue.