Desert Gold and the Light of Western Stars

by Zane Grey

  “Lord only knows. Yaqui says it wasn’t raiders.”

  “Mebbe Sol’s just walked off somewheres.”

  “He was haltered in the corral.”

  “Send Yaqui to find the hoss’s trail, an’ let’s figger,” said Ladd. “Shore this’s no raider job.”

  In the swift search that ensued Gale did not have anything to say; but his mind was forming a conclusion. When he found his old saddle and bridle missing from the peg in the barn his conclusion became a positive conviction, and it made him, for the moment, cold and sick and speechless.

  “Hey, Dick, don’t take it so much to heart,” said Belding. “We’ll likely find Sol, and if we don’t, there’s other good horses.”

  “I’m not thinking of Sol,” replied Gale.

  Ladd cast a sharp glance at Gale, snapped his fingers, and said:

  “Damn me if I ain’t guessed it, too!”

  “What’s wrong with you locoed gents?” bluntly demanded Belding.

  “Nell has slipped away on Sol,” answered Dick.

  There was a blank pause, which presently Belding broke.

  “Well, that’s all right, if Nell’s on him. I was afraid we’d lost the horse.”

  “Belding, you’re trackin’ bad,” said Ladd, wagging his head.

  “Nell has started for Casita,” burst out Gale. “She has gone to fetch Mercedes some word about Thorne. Oh, Belding, you needn’t shake your head. I know she’s gone. She tried to persuade me to go, and was furious when I wouldn’t.”

  “I don’t believe it,” replied Belding, hoarsely. “Nell may have her temper. She’s a little devil at times, but she always had good sense.”

  “Tom, you can gamble she’s gone,” said Ladd.

  “Aw, hell, no! Jim, what do you think?” implored Belding.

  “I reckon Sol’s white head is pointed level an’ straight down the Casita trail. An’ Nell can ride. We’re losin’ time.”

  That roused Belding to action.

  “I say you’re all wrong,” he yelled, starting for the corrals. “She’s only taking a little ride, same as she’s done often. But rustle now. Find out. Dick, you ride cross the valley. Jim, you hunt up and down the river. I’ll head up San Felipe way. And you, Laddy, take Diablo and hit the Casita trail. If she really has gone after Thorne you can catch her in an hour or so.”

  “Shore I’ll go,” replied Ladd. “But, Beldin’, if you’re not plumb crazy you’re close to it. That big white devil can’t catch Sol. Not in an hour or a day or a week! What’s more, at the end of any runnin’ time, with an even start, Sol will be farther in the lead. An’ now Sol’s got an hour’s start.”

  “Laddy, you mean to say Sol is a faster horse than Diablo?” thundered Belding, his face purple.

  “Shore. I mean to tell you just that there,” replied the ranger.

  “I’ll—I’ll bet a—”

  “We’re wastin’ time,” curtly interrupted Ladd. “You can gamble on this if you want to. I’ll ride your Blanco Devil as he never was rid before, ’cept once when a damn sight better hossman than I am couldn’t make him outrun Sol.”

  Without more words the men saddled and were off, not waiting for the Yaqui to come in with possible information as to what trail Blanco Sol had taken. It certainly did not show in the clear sand of the level valley where Gale rode to and fro. When Gale returned to the house he found Belding and Lash awaiting him. They did not mention their own search, but stated that Yaqui had found Blanco Sol’s tracks in the Casita trail. After some consultation Belding decided to send Lash along after Ladd.

  The interminable time that followed contained for Gale about as much suspense as he could well bear. What astonished him and helped him greatly to fight off actual distress was the endurance of Nell’s mother.

  Early on the morning of the second day, Gale, who had acquired an unbreakable habit of watching, saw three white horses and a bay come wearily stepping down the road. He heard Blanco Sol’s familiar whistle, and he leaped up wild with joy. The horse was riderless. Gale’s sudden joy received a violent check, then resurged when he saw a limp white form in Jim Lash’s arms. Ladd was supporting a horseman who wore a military uniform.

  Gale shouted with joy and ran into the house to tell the good news. It was the ever-thoughtful Mrs. Belding who prevented him from rushing in to tell Mercedes. Then he hurried out into the yard, closely followed by the Beldings.

  Lash handed down a ragged, travel-stained, wan girl into Belding’s arms.

  “Dad! Mama!”

  It was indeed a repentant Nell, but there was spirit yet in the tired blue eyes. Then she caught sight of Gale and gave him a faint smile.

  “Hello—Dick.”

  “Nell!” Gale reached for her hand, held it tightly, and found speech difficult.

  “You needn’t worry—about your old horse,” she said, as Belding carried her toward the door. “Oh, Dick! Blanco Sol is—glorious!”

  Gale turned to greet his friend. Indeed, it was but a haggard ghost of the cavalryman. Thorne looked ill or wounded. Gale’s greeting was also a question full of fear.

  Thorne’s answer was a faint smile. He seemed ready to drop from the saddle. Gale helped Ladd hold Thorne upon the horse until they reached the house. Belding came out again. His welcome was checked as he saw the condition of the cavalryman. Thorne reeled into Dick’s arms. But he was able to stand and walk.

  “I’m not—hurt. Only weak—starved,” he said. “Is Mercedes— Take me to her.”

  “She’ll be well the minute she sees him,” averred Belding, as he and Gale led the cavalryman to Mercedes’s room. There they left him; and Gale, at least, felt his ears ringing with the girl’s broken cry of joy.

  When Belding and Gale hurried forth again the rangers were tending the tired horses. Upon returning to the house Jim Lash calmly lit his pipe, and Ladd declared that, hungry as he was, he had to tell his story.

  “Shore, Beldin’,” began Ladd, “that was funny about Diablo catchin’ Blanco Sol. Funny ain’t the word. I nearly laughed myself to death. Well, I rode in Sol’s tracks all the way to Casita. Never seen a rebel or a raider till I got to town. Figgered Nell made the trip in five hours. I went straight to the camp of the cavalrymen, an’ found them just coolin’ off an’ dressin’ down their hosses after what looked to me like a big ride. I got there too late for the fireworks.

  “Some soldier took me to an officer’s tent. Nell was there, some white an’ all in. She just said, ‘Laddy!’ Thorne was there, too, an’ he was bein’ worked over by the camp doctor. I didn’t ask no questions, because I seen quiet was needed round that tent. After satisfying myself that Nell was all right, an’ Thorne in no danger, I went out.

  “Shore there was so darn many fellers who wanted to an’ tried to tell me what’d come off, I thought I’d never find out. But I got the story piece by piece. An’ here’s what happened.

  “Nell rode Blanco Sol a-tearin’ into camp, an’ had a crowd round her in a jiffy. She told who she was, where she’d come from, an’ what she wanted. Well, it seemed a day or so before Nell got there the cavalrymen had heard word of Thorne. You see, Thorne had left camp on leave of absence some time before. He was shore mysterious, they said, an’ told nobody where he was goin’. A week or so after he left camp some Greaser give it away that Rojas had a prisoner in a dobe shack near his camp. Nobody paid much attention to what the Greaser said. He wanted money for mescal. An’ it was usual for Rojas to have prisoners. But in a few more days it turned out pretty sure that for some reason Rojas was holdin’ Thorne.

  “Now it happened when this news came Colonel Weede was in Nogales with his staff, an’ the officer left in charge didn’t know how to proceed. Rojas’s camp was across the line in Mexico, an’ ridin’ over there was serious business. It meant a whole lot more than just scatterin’ one Greaser camp. It was what had been botherin’ more’n one colonel along the line. Thorne’s feller soldiers was anxious to get him out of a bad fix, but they had to wait for or
ders.

  “When Nell found out Thorne was bein’ starved an’ beat in a dobe shack no more’n two mile across the line, she shore stirred up that cavalry camp. Shore! She told them soldiers Rojas was holdin’ Thorne—torturin’ him to make him tell where Mercedes was. She told about Mercedes—how sweet an’ beautiful she was—how her father had been murdered by Rojas—how she had been hounded by the bandit—how ill an’ miserable she was, waitin’ for her lover. An’ she begged the cavalrymen to rescue Thorne.

  “From the way it was told to me I reckon them cavalrymen went up in the air. Fine fiery lot of youngbloods, I thought, achin’ for a scrap. But the officer in charge, bein’ in a ticklish place, still held out for higher orders.

  “Then Nell broke loose. You-all know Nell’s tongue is sometimes like a cholla thorn. I’d have give somethin’ to see her work up that soldier outfit. Nell’s never so pretty as when she’s mad. An’ this last stunt of hers was no girly tantrum, as Beldin’ calls it. She musta been ragin’ with all the hell there’s in a woman.… Can’t you fellers see her on Blanco Sol with her eyes turnin’ black?”

  Ladd mopped his sweaty face with his dusty scarf. He was beaming. He was growing excited, hurried in his narrative.

  “Right out then Nell swore she’d go after Thorne. If them cavalrymen couldn’t ride with a Western girl to save a brother American—let them hang back! One feller, under orders, tried to stop Blanco Sol. An’ that feller invited himself to the hospital. Then the cavalrymen went flyin’ for their hosses. Mebbe Nell’s move was just foxy—woman’s cunnin’. But I’m thinkin’ as she felt then she’d have sent Blanco Sol straight into Rojas’s camp, which, I’d forgot to say, was in plain sight.

  “It didn’t take long for every cavalryman in that camp to get wind of what was comin’ off. Shore they musta been wild. They strung out after Nell in a thunderin’ troop.

  “Say, I wish you fellers could see the lane that bunch of hosses left in the greasewood an’ cactus. Looks like there’d been a cattle stampede on the desert.… Blanco Sol stayed out in front, you can gamble on that. Right into Rojas’s camp! Sabe, you señors? Gawd Almighty! I never had a grief that’d hold a candle to this one of bein’ too late to see Nell an’ Sol in their one best race.

  “Rojas an’ his men vamoosed without a shot. That ain’t surprisin’. There wasn’t a shot fired by anybody. The cavalrymen soon found Thorne an’ hurried with him back on Uncle Sam’s land. Thorne was half naked, black an’ blue all over, thin as a rail. He looked mighty sick when I seen him first. That was a little after midday. He was given food an’ drink. Shore he seemed a starved man. But he picked up wonderful, an’ by the time Jim came along he was wantin’ to start for Forlorn River. So was Nell. By main strength as much as persuasion we kept the two of them quiet till next evenin’ at dark.

  “Well, we made as sneaky a start in the dark as Jim an’ me could manage, an’ never hit the trail till we was miles from town. Thorne’s nerve held him up for a while. Then all at once he tumbled out of his saddle. We got him back, an’ Lash held him on. Nell didn’t give out till daybreak.”

  As Ladd paused in his story Belding began to stutter, and finally he exploded. His mighty utterances were incoherent. But plainly the wrath he had felt toward the wilful girl was forgotten. Gale remained gripped by silence.

  “I reckon you’ll all be some surprised when you see Casita,” went on Ladd. “It’s half burned an’ half tore down. An’ the rebels are livin’ fat. There was rumors of another federal force on the road from Case Grandes. I seen a good many Americans from interior Mexico, an’ the stories they told would make your hair stand up. They all packed guns, was fightin’ mad at Greasers, an’ sore on the good old U.S. But shore glad to get over the line! Some were waitin’ for trains, which don’t run reg’lar no more, an’ others were ready to hit the trails north.”

  “Laddy, what knocks me is Rojas holding Thorne prisoner, trying to make him tell where Mercedes had been hidden,” said Belding.

  “Shore. It’d knock anybody.”

  “The bandit’s crazy over her. That’s the Spanish of it,” replied Belding, his voice rolling. “Rojas is a peon. He’s been a slave to the proud Castilian. He loves Mercedes as he hates her. When I was down in Durango I saw something of these peons’ insane passions. Rojas wants this girl only to have her, then kill her. It’s damn strange, boys, and even with Thorne here our troubles have just begun.”

  “Tom, you spoke correct,” said Jim Ladd, in his cool drawl.

  “Shore I’m not sayin’ what I think,” added Ladd. But the look of him was not indicative of a tranquil optimism.

  Thorne was put to bed in Gale’s room. He was very weak, yet he would keep Mercedes’s hand and gaze at her with unbelieving eyes. Mercedes’s failing hold on hope and strength seemed to have been a fantasy; she was again vivid, magnetic, beautiful, shot through and through with intense and throbbing life. She induced him to take food and drink. Then, fighting sleep with what little strength he had left, at last he succumbed.

  For all Dick could ascertain his friend never stirred an eyelash nor a finger for twenty-seven hours. When he awoke he was pale, weak, but the old Thorne.

  “Hello, Dick, I didn’t dream it then,” he said. “There you are, and my darling with the proud, dark eyes—she’s here?”

  “Why, yes, you locoed cavalryman.”

  “Say, what’s happened to you? It can’t be those clothes and a little bronze on your face.… Dick, you’re older—you’ve changed. You’re not so thickly built. By Gad, if you don’t look fine!”

  “Thanks. I’m sorry I can’t return the compliment. You’re about the seediest, hungriest-looking fellow I ever saw.… Say, old man, you must have had a tough time.”

  A dark and somber fire burned out the happiness in Thorne’s eyes.

  “Dick, don’t make me—don’t let me think of that fiend Rojas!… I’m here now. I’ll be well in a day or two. Then!…”

  Mercedes came in, radiant and soft-voiced. She fell upon her knees beside Thorne’s bed, and neither of them appeared to see Nell enter with a tray. Then Gale and Nell made a good deal of unnecessary bustle in moving a small table close to the bed. Mercedes had forgotten for the moment that her lover had been a starving man. If Thorne remembered it he did not care. They held hands and looked at each other without speaking.

  “Nell, I thought I had it bad,” whispered Dick. “But I’m not—”

  “Hush. It’s beautiful,” replied Nell, softly; and she tried to coax Dick from the room.

  Dick, however, thought he ought to remain at least long enough to tell Thorne that a man in his condition could not exist solely upon love.

  Mercedes sprang up blushing with pretty, penitent manner and moving white hands eloquent of her condition.

  “Oh, Mercedes—don’t go!” cried Thorne, as she stepped to the door.

  “Señor Dick will stay. He is not mucha malo for you—as I am.”

  Then she smiled and went out.

  “Good Lord!” exclaimed Thorne. “How I love her! Dick, isn’t she the most beautiful, the loveliest, the finest—”

  “George, I share your enthusiasm,” said Dick, dryly, “but Mercedes isn’t the only girl on earth.”

  Manifestly this was a startling piece of information, and struck Thorne in more than one way.

  “George,” went on Dick, “did you happen to observe the girl who saved your life—who incidentally just fetched in your breakfast?”

  “Nell Burton! Why, of course. She’s brave, a wonderful girl, and really nice-looking.”

  “You long, lean, hungry beggar! That was the young lady who might answer the raving eulogy you just got out of your system.… I—well, you haven’t cornered the love market!”

  Thorne uttered some kind of a sound that his weakened condition would not allow to be a whoop.

  “Dick! Do you mean it?”

  “I shore do, as Laddy says.”

  “I’m glad, Dick, with all my heart. I wonde
red at the changed look you wear. Why, boy, you’ve got a different front.… Call the lady in, and you bet I’ll look her over right. I can see better now.”

  “Eat your breakfast. There’s plenty of time to dazzle you afterward.”

  Thorne fell to upon his breakfast and made it vanish with magic speed. Meanwhile Dick told him something of a ranger’s life along the border.

  “You needn’t waste your breath,” said Thorne. “I guess I can see. Belding and those rangers have made you the real thing—the real Western goods.… What I want to know is all about the girl.”

  “Well, Laddy swears she’s got your girl roped in the corral for looks.”

  “That’s not possible. I’ll have to talk to Laddy.… But she must be a wonder, or Dick Gale would never have fallen for her.… Isn’t it great, Dick? I’m here! Mercedes is well—safe! You’ve got a girl! Oh!… But say, I haven’t a dollar to my name. I had a lot of money, Dick, and those robbers stole it, my watch—everything. Damn that little black Greaser! He got Mercedes’s letters. I wish you could have seen him trying to read them. He’s simply nutty over her, Dick. I could have borne the loss of money and valuables—but those beautiful, wonderful letters—they’re gone!”

  “Cheer up. You have the girl. Belding will make you a proposition presently. The future smiles, old friend. If this rebel business was only ended!”

  “Dick, you’re going to be my savior twice over.… Well, now, listen to me.” His gay excitement changed to earnest gravity. “I want to marry Mercedes at once. Is there a padre here?”

  “Yes. But are you wise in letting any Mexican, even a priest, know Mercedes is hidden in Forlorn River?”

  “It couldn’t be kept much longer.”

  Gale was compelled to acknowledge the truth of this statement.

  “I’ll marry her first, then I’ll face my problem. Fetch the padre, Dick. And ask our kind friends to be witnesses at the ceremony.”

  Much to Gale’s surprise neither Belding nor Ladd objected to the idea of bringing a padre into the household, and thereby making known to at least one Mexican the whereabouts of Mercedes Castañeda. Belding’s caution was wearing out in wrath at the persistent unsettled condition of the border, and Ladd grew only the cooler and more silent as possibilities of trouble multiplied.