Dust of the Desert

by Robert Welles Ritchie

  CHAPTER XI

  THE MARK OF EL ROJO

  Colonel Urgo straightened himself, and the smile that had twisted hislittle waxed moustache awry suddenly was smudged out. For his eyesencountered what they were hardly prepared to see--a living dead man.His face went sickly white; one hand arrested itself in the motion ofmaking the sign of the cross. He stared at Grant, fascinated.

  Grant himself was little less shaken at the appearance of his enemy.It was as if a cobra suddenly had lifted its head from the patio'sflowering jungle. In a moment of dreamy ecstasy, when he had felt hisheart yearning toward the girl's over a bridge of music, came thissinister apparition of evil. It was not fear of the man that causedGrant's heart to pound--the waspish little Spaniard possessed noessence of malignity sufficient to terrify one of the American's fibre;rather a loathing and instinctive reflex of anger gorged his combativenerves with blood. Grant read surely enough the shock of surprise inhis enemy's eyes and cannily laid this revelation away as a weapon tohand should necessity demand its use.

  As for Benicia, she made no pretence of concealing her annoyance.Quick perception seized upon the coincidence of her father's absenceand Colonel Urgo's coming; she knew the wily little suitor had somehowmanaged to time his visit to that circumstance. In the first flush ofher surprise Benicia caught herself feeling a great thankfulness thatGrant Hickman was in the house.

  "If you have come to see my father"--Benicia did not rise to greet Urgowhen he took a tentative step toward her--"he is absent at the moment.I am sorry you have not found him at home."

  Urgo's lynx eyes darted from the girl's face to Grant's and back again.Plainly he was in a quandary, not knowing how much--if anything--thisAmerican had told his hosts of the circumstances of a night in Sonizonaand its consequences. Benicia, misreading his perturbation, was quickto interpose with a smile all irony:

  "This is Senor Hickman, whom you may remember having seen on thetrain. Senor Hickman, this is a distant cousin of mine, ColonelHamilcar Urgo, of the garrison at Sonizona. He is the gentleman whobelieved you occupied his berth out of El Paso, if you recall. Therewas some slight misunderstanding--"

  Grant flashed a glance at the girl, read the mockery in her eyes andtook his cue from her:

  "I believe I have seen the Colonel subsequently," this in heavyseriousness. "Was it not somewhere in Sonizona?"

  "I do not recall having had that honour." Teeth flashed in a nervoussmile and the man's eyes veiled themselves furtively. He caught thechallenge to battle of wits with the American and entrenched himselfaccordingly. Colonel Urgo found himself at a momentary disadvantage,however; he did not know what ammunition his rival would choose.Essaying a diversion, he addressed the girl in rapid Spanish.

  "Our guest, Senor Hickman, does not understand Spanish," Beniciainsinuated reproof. "Yes, it is quite true, as you have judged, thathe is recovering from a wound--a slight misadventure on the road toHermosillo. But pray be seated, my cousin, and let me order wine and alight luncheon. You are visibly fatigued." With a slight bow to UrgoBenicia arose and crossed the patio to disappear in the shadows of thearcade.

  Urgo, surprised into an unpleasant situation by being left alone withthe man he had sent to death, fidgeted with the hasp of his cigarettecase. He made great difficulty of scratching a match. Grant, watchinghis every move, decided to play some of the cards fate had dealt him.

  "I guessed you were inquiring of Senorita O'Donoju about my condition,Colonel. You are charmingly solicitous. I was shot in the back--bulletthrough my shoulder. Left for dead with the other convicts."

  The little Spaniard let smoke seep through his nostrils and spread outhis hands to say, "So much for that!" Grant was not to be denied hisadvantage:

  "Of course, Colonel Urgo, I remember you were good enough to be presentwhen I was arraigned at the jail on a false charge of counterfeiting;I shall not soon forget the promise you made then to do what you couldfor me. You did--all you possibly could!" Grant's smile had become setand one hand resting on his blanketed knees flexed into a fist, whiteacross the knuckles.

  Urgo expelled a cloud of smoke from his lungs and showed his teeth in awolf's smile.

  "You remember much, senor. Do not fail to remember, too, you area criminal under the laws of Mexico, to be tried on charge ofcounterfeiting at the court of Hermosillo."

  "Yes?" Grant was cool under the other's counter. "And will you moveto take me to Hermosillo after what happened--out yonder on that roadthrough the desert?"

  "I?" Urgo's shoulders lifted. "I am a soldier, senor. I have nothingto do with justice and the courts. But assuredly you will be taken toHermosillo and put on trial."

  The little Spaniard had fully recovered his poise by now. The uneasylight in his eyes had yielded to a dangerous flicker of craft. Suavityof a tiger's purr lurked in his voice. Grant mastered the rage whichridged all his fighting muscles despite the weakness of his body; thiswas no moment to be betrayed into throwing away a trick.

  "But before I go to Hermosillo, Colonel, of course I shall takeprecautions to insure that I get there--that there will be no more _leyde fuga_ in my case. Don Padraic O'Donoju, who is an honest man; Ishall take him more fully into my confidence and--"

  "Then you have told--?" Urgo bit his lip in mortification over havingfallen into a trap. Grant's answering smile was innocent as a babe's.

  "I might prefer, Colonel Urgo, to confine our affair--call it amisunderstanding between two gentlemen--strictly to yourself andmyself, trusting to take care of myself when I have recovered mystrength. But should I be driven to seek the assistance of an honestman--"

  Benicia appeared that instant; behind her was 'Cepcion with a silvertray. Before Colonel Urgo bobbed to his feet Grant caught a shaft ofcold fury from his eyes which said that if the girl's presence forcedan armistice no promise of peace lay at its termination.

  Followed an interlude of quiet comedy. Grant, content to leave thefirst move in the hands of his enemy, eased his shoulder lazily againstthe chair back and let his eyes play over the Spaniard's face anddiminutive figure. There was an indolent suggestion of probing, ofdetached appraisal in the steady scrutiny which bit into Urgo's pride.That and dull rage over the unexplained presence of his rival here inBenicia's home kept the little whippet fidgeting.

  He essayed addressing the girl in her own tongue, but again and morepointedly Benicia reminded him of this breach of courtesy. She madeno effort to conceal the imp of humour that tugged at the corners ofher mouth; this flickering of a smile and the dancing of her eyesmade farcical the sober decorum of her speech. Urgo, no fool, was notlong realizing he was being made the butt of his cousin's sport. Thinlines of strain began to appear about the mouth that smiled so smugly;just below his temples irritated nerves commenced setting the musclesa-twitching. Grant, who did not fail to note these reflexes, saw in thefigure opposite a preying animal setting himself for a spring.

  Urgo and Benicia had been exchanging commonplaces. Suddenly the manleaned forward tensely and returned to the forbidden Spanish in ahurried burst: "For your own good, my cousin, I must have a few minuteswith you alone. Arrange it, I command you."

  "You are hardly the one, sweetest cousin, to be the judge of my good.Nor the one to command me." Benicia retorted in the same tongue. Then,turning with a smile of mock apology to Grant: "You will excuse ColonelUrgo his occasional lapse from a tongue that is difficult for him."

  The Spaniard took a final draught of wine and pushed back from thetable where his luncheon had been spread. As he idly tapped the cornhusk of one of his cigarettes Grant thought he saw resolution shapeitself in the narrowed eyes. There was a moment's silence, then Urgoaddressed himself graciously to Grant:

  "Senor Hickman, perhaps my adorable cousin here has not foundopportunity to tell you anything of the history of this remarkablehouse in the desert where you have found such agreeable convalescence."

  "I believe not." Grant spoke warily, his senses alert for some pitfall.He shot a warning glance at Benicia; but the girl, igno
rant of the grimfeud between the two, could not read it understandingly. Colonel Urgosurrounded his head with a blue cloud and continued:

  "An engaging history, senor. Not a house in all Sonora with suchromance behind it, such--how do you say it?--such legend, eh? ThoughI am distantly of the same family, our branch cannot claim thedistinction that falls to my cousin, who is the last of the veritableO'Donoju.

  "Behold her glorious head, Senor Hickman!" Urgo waved his cigaretteto point the burning of sunlight above Benicia's brow; his ownhead inclined as if in reverence. "There in my fairest cousin'sso-marvellous hair lies all the legend and the history of the greatfamily O'Donoju."

  The girl, frankly amused at what appeared a turgid compliment, tossedback her head in a gust of laughter. But Grant could not join withher. As from some iceberg veiled in fog came to him the cold feel ofmalignity moving to some unguessed purpose. Was Urgo planning to strikeat him through the girl he adored? Yet what possible obloquy could hecall up against Benicia, whose soul was unsullied as the winds of thewastes? Urgo spoke on:

  "Undoubtedly, my cousin, Senor Hickman has felt his heart snared bythose burning meshes of yours or he is not a judge of beauty"--gestureof impatience from Benicia. "So it is for the benefit of the senor aswell as for your own, fairest cousin, that I recite this legend of thered hair of the O'Donoju. Strange, is it not, that all Sonora knows itand has told the story to its children for a hundred years, yet you,_chiquita_"--a wave of the cigarette toward the girl--"who should bemost interested are the only ignorant one.

  "There was in the long ago, senor, a Michael O'Donohue--what you callof the wild Irish, who had flaming hair and an untamed spirit. A kingin Spain gave him the whole district of Altar for his estate, and hecame here to the Garden of Solitude with his Spanish lady and builthim this house where we sit. He was a man who considered the safety ofhis soul, so he built a mission to the glory of the four evangelistsout yonder by the Gulf where the Sand People needed the comfort of theMother Church and--"

  "He lived a life any one of his descendants might pattern after,"Benicia put in with a smile carrying a sting. Urgo touched his breastwith delicate fingers and bowed. Then turning again to Grant:

  "When the Apaches burned that mission, senor, a pious O'Donoju restoredit and the family, then numerous, endowed that mission altar with muchgold and silver. There was, too, a great string of pearls--pearls witha green light, legend says, which the Sand People brought from theshell beds of the Gulf to show their piety. You are following me, SenorHickman, eh?"

  Grant made no sign. His eyes were upon Benicia's face, reading therea slow change. Now she, too, had begun to feel a nameless portentstealing over her like the chill from hidden ice. The wells of hereyes were deeper; faint colour came and went in her cheeks and throat.Grant, certain that Urgo was preparing torture for her under theinnocent mask of narrative, was helpless to intervene; no diversionshort of the work of fists was possible, and that his weakness deniedhim.

  "There was of that generation which restored the mission, senor, awild youth, true descendant of the original O'Donoju. He was knownfrom Mexico City to Tucson as El Rojo--the Red One--for his hair wasthe veritable colour of that which our cousin possesses. And the devilrode his heart with spurs of fire. You have never been told of El Rojo,Benicia?"

  The girl made no answer. Her level gaze was a mute challenge. Thelittle colonel rerolled one of his eternal cigarettes, lighted it anddrank smoke with a sensuous inhalation.

  "At the feast of the re-dedication El Rojo, banished from the family,appeared out of nowhere. Conceive the consternation, senor! The redhead of the devil's own come to sanctified ground. This fiery head, solike our Benicia's, swooping as a comet into the feasting place of thefamily; well might the pious O'Donojus be fearful.

  "And their fears were not without grounds. Before El Rojo quit theMission of the Four Evangelists he had murdered the priest, his ownuncle, and stolen the rope of pearls from the sacred image of theVirgin. He rode away with one of his cousins, a foolish girl of theMayortorenas, who was wife to him in the desert without priest or book."

  Urgo let his voice trail away as with a tale finished. His teasingglance lingered on the faces of his two auditors. Benicia drew atremulous breath and forced a smile, as though she were relaxing fromstrain. On this cue the story teller unexpectedly continued:

  "But I hear Senor Hickman ask, 'What part has all this ancient legendwith Senorita Benicia's red hair?' Patience, senor. We approach that.

  "Legend says that though El Rojo's wife worked upon his heart andbrought repentance, it was too late. He returned to the mission a yearafter his double crime to restore the Virgin's pearls to the sanctuary.The Apaches had been there just before him. The priests were slain andthe mission burned. El Rojo buried the pearls within the stark walls,hoping the good God would accept this his acknowledgment of sin. Therethe pearls lie to-day beyond sight of man, for the desert has blottedout the last remnants of ruins.

  "But the sin of El Rojo was not so easily to be forgotten in sightof the good God, sweetest cousin." Urgo suddenly turned away fromGrant, to whom he had been addressing his story, and fixed his eyes onBenicia; almost there was the click of snapping fetters in his glance."You bear the mark of it above your brow like the mark of Cain--hisfire-red hair!"

  "Stop!" The girl leaped from her chair, blazing wrath in every line ofher face. "I shall not listen--"

  "The grandson of El Rojo and his grandson," Urgo purred on with hissmile of a hunting cat, "every second generation of the O'Donoju hasone born with the curse of the red hair to tell all Sonora God does notforget. And now you, the last of an accursed family, its great estatesgone--its power gone--your own grandfather with his red hair shot withMaximilian!--You with the red head--daughter of a murderer--"

  A hand closed over the collar of the colonel's military jacket, gaveit a twist, throttling his speech. Grant had leaped from his seat--apain like a bayonet point shot through his shoulder at the suddenmovement--and come upon the spiteful little slanderer from behind.

  "Gringo assassin!" whistled the little Spaniard, and his right handgroped backward to a concealed holster. It fell into a grip too strongto be broken. Grant was bearing all his weight on the other's back,for the instant he was on his feet he discovered a weakness of hisknees which would not support him. The impulse to shut off Urgo'svenomous tongue had been acted upon without calculation; now that hehad committed himself to action the American realized how heavy was thehazard against him. One arm useless, all the other muscles once readyto respond instantly to call for action now seeming to be palsied. Aparalytic boldly attempting to bell a wildcat; this was the situation.

  Benicia saw the American's face over the squirming Urgo's shoulder;it wore a strained grin which hardly served to mask the toll taken ofweakened muscles. She whirled and ran out of the patio to call aid inthe servants' quarters.

  Now the hot fire from his wound was spreading across Grant's back anddown his fighting arm as he swayed across the patio half supportedon the Spaniard's back. The frantic jerkings of Urgo's pistol arm inGrant's grip threatened momentarily to loosen the restraining fingers;that done, the American's end would be speedy.

  Grant found himself near a wall, braced one foot against it and lungedoutward. Down went both men. Urgo twisted out from under the heavierbody, pinning him, and raised himself to one knee. Grant saw a tigerishgleam of triumph in the other's eyes as his right hand whipped back tothe holster on his hip.

  Some power more rapid than thought moved the American's sound armoutward in a wild sweep which encompassed a giant fuchsia bush growingin a Chinese tea tub. Over went the bush just as Urgo fired from thehip, its branches swishing down over the latter's head.

  The bullet went wild. Grant, near swooning from the consuming pain ofhis wound, scrambled for his enemy--went up with him when he found hisfeet. The revolver had been knocked from Urgo's hand by the avalancheof greenery; a sideways kick of Grant's foot sent it spinning into thefountain.

  Now t
he wounded man sent a final summons to his last reservoir ofstrength. Slowly--slowly he forced the little Spaniard out of thepatio and down the long corridor toward the front door of the house.When Benicia came running with two husky Indians they found Grant withhis man waiting before the heavy oaken portal. One of the Indiansswung back the door. Grant gave a supreme heave and the colonel wentsprawling like a straddle bug out onto the gravel.

  The great door slammed behind him.