by J. T. Edson
As soon as the Kid and Acusar entered, a silence so potentially ominous it could almost be felt spread across the bar-room!
Drinks and other activities were postponed as every eye was turned in the direction of the newcomers!
Actually, only one of the young men was being subjected to the attention of the crowd. They all recognized Acusar as being one of them and wondered why he had arrived with the other. While gringo outlaws from north of the Rio Bravo were not unknown in Escopeta, such visitations were sufficiently infrequent to arouse interest when one put in an appearance.
However, in the case of the black dressed and well armed young Texan, many of the crowd knew that—regardless of what he had been in the past—he was no outlaw!
Pausing for a moment, as if wishing to let his eyes become accustomed to the light after having spent an extended period in the darkness outside the building, the Kid swept the bar-room with a gaze which was quick yet missed little. He had no need to take the precaution against being dazzled, having waited just clear of the open front door until his vision had adjusted to the changed conditions he would encounter on entering.
Everything was pretty much as the Texan remembered from previous visits!
There were some new faces, none of which the Kid considered to be indicative of a better and less vicious character than those which had gone. Behind the counter, almost short enough to be classed as a dwarf, the nominal owner and his massive Yaqui Indian wife did not appear to have aged to any noticeable degree. Much the same applied to the man he had come to visit and the rest of the group at the table. He doubted whether the passage of time had reduced the ability of any one of them as fighting men. The fact that all were still alive was convincing evidence to support the supposition. 14
Giving Acusar a gentle shove with his right hand, having told of his intentions on entering and informing him what he expected to be done, the Texan stepped forward. On the receipt of the signal, the young bandido led the way towards the table occupied by his leader. It was obvious to all the onlookers that something was amiss and that he was not looking forward to what he anticipated would be forthcoming when the events of earlier in the day were reported to Don Ramon.
On the other hand, the Texan seemed completely at ease. For all the concern he was exhibiting, he clearly considered himself among—if not exactly friends—at least people who would treat him with hospitality.
Yet, for all his apparent relaxation, the Kid was as alert as a cougar scenting danger and just as ready to take sudden, violent action should the need arise!
At every succeeding step he was taking, the Texan was conscious of the avaricious and calculating way in which he was being scrutinized. The occupants of the room were taking everything in and estimating the value of all he carried upon his person. With the possible exception of Peraro, Jesus ‘Obispo’ Sanchez and Marcos ‘el Cerdo’ Bordillo, there was hardly a person present who would have hesitated before killing him for his clothing, the old Colt Model of 1848 Dragoon revolver, the bowie knife and his rifle, if granted an opportunity. What was more, should the bandido chief or his somberly dressed would-be successor learn the true nature of the rifle concealed by the Pehnane medicine boot, he would not exclude even them from trying to gain possession of it.
However, as the Kid had anticipated, nobody attempted to molest him as he continued to stroll with such seeming nonchalance across the room. Everybody was waiting to see how Don Ramon reacted to his arrival. There was, in all probability, not a single person present who had missed witnessing at least one example of how their leader responded to any flouting of his authority. Even if there were any of them present who had missed such a demonstration in the past, he would already have been warned of what happened to those who were sufficiently ill-advised to make the attempt.
Therefore, in spite of being ready in case he was required to defend himself, the Texan did not envisage there would be any need for him to do so before he had concluded the conversation with Peraro!
‘Saludos, Don Ramon,’ the Kid greeted in his fluent border Spanish, as he and his prisoner—which, to the experienced gaze of the men at the table, was the status of the frightened looking young Mexican regardless of there being no visible form of restraint—came to a halt in front of the man to whom the words were addressed.
‘Saludos, Cabrito,’ Peraro replied, studying Acusar for a moment with a baleful gaze which did nothing to create a sense of peace of mind for its recipient. Then he turned his attention to the black clad Texan and delivered a calculating examination. He was certain only a matter of the greatest importance have warranted the visit. This was no mere act of braggadocio provoked by a dare or bet from the honest cowhands with whom el Cabrito was now associating. Even with the very important connections he possessed on both sides of the international border, he would have needed a much stronger and more serious motive before coming to Escopeta. Therefore, the bandido leader considered it advisable to learn more and went on, ‘This is an unexpected surprise. May I ask what brings you to see me?’
‘I’ve got bad news, señor,’ the Texan replied with polite formality, then gestured over his shoulder with his head. ‘Only don’t let me keep all these good folks from their enjoyment.’
‘Carry on with your drinking, my children,’ the bandido leader shouted, taking the hint. ‘Our friend Bernardo can’t get rich if he isn’t selling anything, can he?’
‘I can’t get rich anyway,’ the nominal owner stated to his wife, but was wise enough to ensure the words reached only her ears. ‘Not with that fancy talking son-of-a-whore taking all the “mother-something” profits.’
‘Like I said, señor,’ the Kid drawled, declining the offer of a seat at the table, as the interrupted activities of the other occupants were continued, albeit at a reduced level and with every indication that their main attention was upon himself and the reason for his visit. ‘Your nephew, this hombre and his brother tried to rob me north of the Rio Bravo this morning.’
‘The god-damned fools!’ Peraro ejaculated furiously.
‘It wasn’t close to being the smartest thing they could’ve done, way things turned out,’ the Texan admitted. ‘Of course, to be fair all ’round, they likely didn’t know at first it was my gear they were fixing to help themselves to.’
‘W—we d—di—didn’t, p-pa—patron,’ Acusar confirmed, his speech being impaired somewhat by an inability to prevent his teeth chattering with terror as the savage gaze of his leader was swung back in his direction. ‘And, when I guessed from the clothes, rifle and horse who it was, neither Alfredo nor ’Tian—I mean Sebastian—!’
‘I know who you meant!’ Peraro growled. ‘Go on with your story!’
‘I—I tried to tell them,’ the young Mexican concluded hurriedly, after giving an accurate description of the events preceding the arrival of the Kid. ‘But neither of them would listen to me. They were too busy arguing about who had what.’
‘Which is about all I’d expect of either of them!’ the bandido chief claimed in tones of derision. ‘But how do you mean about recognizing the clothes and rifle, didn’t Cabrito have them with him?’
‘N—No!’ Acusar gasped. ‘H—They—We—!’
‘What the hell does he mean, Cabrito?’ Peraro inquired, but less savagely, looking at the black clad Texan in an interrogative fashion. ‘I can’t get any “mother-something” sense out of him.’
‘I didn’t conclude they’d stop doing it was I to have asked and me with only this old toad-sticker to hand for backing it up,’ the Kid asserted, when he had explained about the successful hunt for the Canada goose. ‘And, soon’s I saw his brother was figuring to shoot that old Thunder hoss of mine—Well, I reckon I don’t need to tell you what that did to me, way you feel about that big black Diablo stallion of yours.’
‘You don’t,’ Peraro affirmed definitely. ‘But the good Diablo is no more, Cabrito.’
‘I’m right sorry to hear that, señor,’ the Texan claimed, with genui
ne sympathy. ‘Was it an accident?’
‘Nothing more than old age and, before he died, he left me a son who is at least his equal,’ the bandido chief explained and his pride was obvious. ‘Anyway, under such conditions, I can’t blame you for stopping Acusar.’ He paused and glanced around, then went on, ‘By the way, where are those two other fools?’
‘I took out Alfredo, I reckon his name was, with my knife.’
‘And Sebastian?’
‘He threw down on me and missed, so he wound up dead as well.’
‘That’s understandable,’ Peraro conceded, his face giving no indication of how he was receiving the news from the person responsible that a kinsman had been killed. His eyes were diverted to deliver a look which caused the recipient to cower as if expecting a blow at the very least, and he continued in a scathing voice, ‘But this one seems to have come through safely.’
‘Just a nick, way it turned out, but he’d’ve died like the others had he been loco enough to try to fight on after he’d took it,’ the Kid replied. ‘I had him keep his wound covered while we was riding through town, so’s nobody’d see it and make a mistake. I’ll tell you something else, though. He was way out the smartest of the three, no matter your nephew was one of them. Like he told you, he figured out who they was fixing to rob, but those other two knobheads just wouldn’t listen when he tried to give them a warning.’
‘That’s about what I’d expect of Sebastian,’ Peraro confessed. ‘And something in young Acusar’s favor. By the way, Cabrito, he was only the son of a second cousin who I never really liked. Not that I’m especially bothered, but where is he?’
‘We left him and the other hombre in that cottonwood grove just outside town,’ the Kid replied, concluding he had been told the truth by Acusar about the relationship between the bandido chief and Montalban. ‘Like I told you, I didn’t want to draw no notice and questions on the way here.’
‘Why did you come?’ demanded Edmundo “Culebra” Perez. ‘Because it was the honorable thing for a man to do,’ the Kid asserted, knowing enough about conditions among the bandidos to believe such a response would give Sanchez an excuse to support him, and making it plain he was directing the explanation solely to the inquirer who would not understand such a matter as honor. As Obispo nodded in approval and agreement, he went on, ‘I don’t know whether Don Ramon sent those three out or not, ’cepting I wouldn’t reckon he’d trust them four inches out of his sight without somebody to wet-nurse them. But I do know he’d want to find out the why of it when they didn’t come back. Which I concluded to save him the need and trouble to do it and, by coming personal, making sure he heard the straight of it.’ Having delivered the statement, without waiting for a response, he turned his gaze to the young Mexican and asked, ‘Well, is that how things went?’
‘It is, patron,’ Acusar confirmed without hesitation, grateful for the way in which he had been shown in a better light than his brother and Montalban. ‘Cabrito has spoken the truth about everything.’
‘You were riding alone, Cabrito?’ Peraro wanted to know, speaking with what appeared to be no more than casual interest.
‘Nope,’ the Kid lied, but with such conviction he might have been speaking the unvarnished truth. ‘Cap’n Fog, Mark Counter and Waco were going to meet me at the clearing. Fact being, they’ll likely be there and waiting by now. I left them a note telling where I was headed and why.’
‘Most wise,’ the bandido chief praised, after looking at and having received a nod of confirmation from Acusar who—although unaware that the men for whom the message was supposed to be intended were nowhere in the vicinity nor likely to be—had seen the precaution taken. ‘And I’m grateful to you for being so considerate.’
‘Like I said, Don Ramon, it was the honorable thing to do way I saw it,’ the Kid answered, speaking so loudly his words carried around the bar-room to the occupants who were all listening to the conversation regardless of what they had been told by their leader ‘And now, I’m asking whether you hold me any grudge for what those three of your men left me no choice but to do?’
Once again, an ominous silence came upon the bar-room.
More than ever since the arrival of the two young men, the occupants were giving their undivided attention to the table of their leader!
Everybody was waiting to hear the reply made by the bandido chief!
That included the Kid!
All too well the black clad young Texan realized he would soon know his fate!
Depending upon the answer given by Peraro, the Kid could leave unmolested and in safety!
Or be compelled to try and fight his way out, with small chance of succeeding against such odds!
Six – Who’s Going to Kill Me
There was a pause, which seemed to be dragging on interminably to the occupants of the bar-room in Bernardo’s Cantina, while Ramon Manuel Jose Peraro was considering how he should reply.
As the bandido leader was always aware, in the kind of society to which he belonged, it was more than merely inadvisable for it to be considered that he had made a wrong decision. It could prove fatal and would, at the very least, weaken his authority over the remainder of the gang. Unless rapidly and forcibly checked, the latter was almost certain to result in the former.
Peraro knew the three names mentioned by the Ysabel Kid!
Every one was a peerless fighting man in his own right, but this was not the point uppermost at that moment in the mind of the bandido leader. He was taking into account that no less a person than President Sebastian Lerdo de Tejas of Mexico had been saved by them from assassination. 15 El Presidente had acquired a well deserved reputation for repaying his debts and supporting those who had done him services. Furthermore, many influential people in Mexico would remember how el Cabrito had helped Captain Dustine Edward Marsden ‘Dusty’ Fog to deliver a vitally important shipment of repeating rifles to Benito Juarez. This had caused the defection of a large number of former Confederate soldiers from ‘Emperor’ Ferdinand Joseph Maximillian, the would-be ruler appointed by the French, and had played a considerable part in having him overthrown and executed. 16
Even if he had liked his kinsman rather than regarding him as a nuisance and an incompetent, Peraro would have hesitated before attempting to seek revenge upon a person so well connected as the Ysabel Kid. Therefore, under the conditions which prevailed and particularly in view of his plans for the immediate future, he was disinclined to take the chance of arousing the hostility and animosity of so many powerful people.
However, the references to the ‘honorable’ aspects of the situation offered the bandido leader a way out of the dilemma. It was always his pose to be a man of unshakable principles, which would permit him to accept that another was of the same high moral standards. Nor was it likely anybody would raise an argument if he should make his decision on such grounds.
‘I agree that you acted in the only way possible under the circumstances, Cabrito, and as I, or anybody else here, would have done in your place,’ Peraro affirmed, in a carrying tone similar to that with which the question had been asked. ‘The fault was all theirs and you did no more than you had to do. I neither attach fault to you, nor hold any grudge whatsoever.’
‘Bueno, gracias,’ the black clad young Texan declared and meant it. ‘Which being the case, I’ll be headed back to meet up with Cap’n Fog and the boys.’
‘Straight away?’ the bandido chief asked, with what might have been solicitude and disappointment. ‘Can’t we offer you a drink, or food?’
‘Neither, gracias,’ the Kid refused, but in such a polite manner it offered no offence. ‘I’d food along with me and ate on the way down here. So seeing’s how we’re headed for a meeting with some important folks up to Eagle Pass, I’d best not keep Cap’n Fog waiting any longer than need be.’
‘You know best and are to be commended on being so conscientious,’ Peraro assented and praised. ‘Goodbye then, Cabrito. And, once again, my thanks for your consi
deration in this matter.’
‘Like I said, it was the honorable thing to do,’ the Texan drawled. ‘Happen it’s all right with you, I’ll take this young feller along to bring the bodies in.’
‘Do as you wish, Cabrito,’ the bandido chief authorized, before directing a far less hostile glance at Tomas Acusar than had previously been the case. ‘Unless his wound is troubling him too much, that is.’
‘I’ll be all right, patron,’ the young Mexican claimed, relieved by the indication that he was not being held responsible for the death of Sebastian Montalban.
‘Are you going to let the half-breed get away with it, jefe?’ inquired Edmundo “Culebra” Perez, employing a term which was equally applicable to himself, after the Kid and Acusar had left the bar-room and conversation was welling up all around.
‘I am,’ Peraro replied. ‘You heard what he said about having left a note telling Fog where he was going and what he intended to do.’
‘Do you think he did leave one?’ Perez asked.
‘Perhaps he did, perhaps he was only bluffing,’ answered the bandido chief. ‘But I’ve given him my word that I don’t hold him a grudge and I won’t break it.’
‘That wouldn’t be the honorable thing to do, Culebra,’ pointed out Jesus “Obispo” Sanchez. ‘And everybody knows Don Ramon is a man of honor.’
‘Just where the hell do you think you’re going?’ demanded Conrado Delgado, stepping from behind a bush with his Spencer carbine held ready for use to confront the man he had heard approaching. He had been just about to go on foot to carry out the assignment he had been given.
