Lost Pueblo (1992)

by Grey, Zane

  "Yes. Much better. I was ruined by a woman," he replied, somberly.

  This startling revelation enjoined silence for a while, which was broken by the sound of hoofs cracking the rocks.

  "Indians coming down the canyon," said Randolph, who had arisen.

  "Oh, gracious! Are they hostile?" cried Mrs. Durland.

  "Well, about half-friendly Navajos," returned Randolph.

  Three picturesque riders rode from the cedars into camp. One of them, particularly, caught Janey's eye, as he dismounted in a sinuous action. He was tall with a ponderous head that made him appear top heavy. He wore brown moccasins, corduroy trousers, a leather belt with large silver buckle and shields, and a maroon-colored velveteen shirt. His huge sombrero with ornamented band hid his features, but Janey could discern that his face was red.

  "Better eat while the eating is good," warned Randolph.

  Then he spoke to the Indians in Navajo. Their actions then signified that he had asked them to partake of the meal. Janey was glad she had about finished hers. The meat, the biscuits, the potatoes disappeared as if by magic. Mrs. Durland, who had filled her plate, but had scarcely tasted anything, appeared electrified to see her portion of breakfast disappear with the rest. To do the Indians justice, however, she was not holding the plate at the moment. She had set it on a rock by the campfire.

  "Ugh!" grunted the big Indian after each bite. Randolph had made fair-sized biscuits, but one bite sufficed for each.

  "That wretch appropriated all my breakfast," declared Mrs. Durland, astounded and angry. Evidently she took it for granted that these Navajos could neither speak nor understand English.

  "Of all the hogs!" ejaculated young Durland. "Mother, that Indian made away with nine biscuits. I counted them."

  "Mr. Dick said they were half friendly," complained Mrs. Durland. "I declare I don't see it."

  Randolph contrived in an aside to whisper to Janey: "That big Indian is smart. Keep your mouth shut and for that matter stay right here."

  "Don't worry, Phil," whispered Janey. "I'll stay in camp. What's his name?"

  "The cowboys call him Ham-face."

  Presently Janey had opportunity to get a good look at him. The sobriquet was felicitous. He certainly had a face that resembled a ham. But it was also a record for desert life. Janey could not decide whether he was young or old. He had great black eyes, piercing and bold, yet somehow melancholy. There were sloping lines of strength and he had a thoughtful brow. Seating himself before Mrs. Durland he spoke to her in Navajo.

  "What'd he say?" she asked, half fascinated and half frightened.

  "Mrs. Durland, I regret I do not translate Navajo well," replied Randolph. "But he wanted to know something or other about why you wore men's pants."

  Janey did not believe a word of that. She could tell when Phil was lying.

  "The impudent savage!" ejaculated the woman, indignantly.

  Ham-face addressed her again, gravely, with a face like a mask.

  "He wants to know if you are any man's squaw," explained Randolph.

  "Mother, you've made a conquest," laughed young Durland.

  That affronted his mother who got up from beside the Navajo and left the campfire. Ham-face followed her, much fascinated, evidently, by her general appearance. It was to be admitted, Janey thought, that Mrs. Durland in tailored riding breeches, much too small for her portly figure, was nothing, if not a spectacle. When she became aware she was being followed she grew greatly perturbed, and hastened this way and that, though not far from the others. Ham-face pursued her.

  "What's the fool traipsing after me for?" she cried.

  Finally in sheer fright she came back to the seat beside her son, and sat there fuming, tapping the ground with her boot. Ham-face continued to walk around her and study her with grave eyes.

  "Talk about the noble red men!" she exclaimed. "They're abominably rude... Why don't they go away?"

  The three Navajos appeared to be in no hurry. Ham-face kept devoting himself to Mrs. Durland, while the other two smoked cigarettes and talked in low tones to Randolph. Janey had taken refuge behind the packs, from which only her head protruded. Bert was interested despite his alarm. At length Ham-face's attention to Mrs. Durland became so marked that the nervous high-strung woman burst into a tirade that might have been directed at the whole Indian race.

  Ham-face imperturbably lighted a cigarette and blew a puff of smoke upward. "Pardon me, Madam, if I seem to stare," he remarked in English as fluent as her own. "But you are the most peculiar-looking old lady I've seen. I'd like to introduce you to my squaws. When I was in New York and Paris, during the war, I met some modern up-to-date women, but you've got them beaten a mile!"

  Mrs. Durland's jaw dropped, her eyes popped, and with a gasp she collapsed. Janey, standing behind the packs, stuffed her handkerchief in her mouth to keep from shouting in glee. Ham-face was assuredly one of the educated Navajos whom the cowboys had mentioned.

  After that he ceased annoying Mrs. Durland, but presently, after an enigmatical look at Janey, he joined Randolph and his two comrades near the horses. They conversed a little longer. Then the Indians mounted and rode away. Ham-face turned to wave a hand at Mrs. Durland.

  "Adios, little Eva," he called.

  When they disappeared Mrs. Durland came out of her trance.

  "That long-haired dirty ragged savage!" she raged. "To think he understood every word I uttered and then talked just like a white man!... He added insult to injury. Oh, this hideous Arizona with its lying traders, cowboys, Indians, outlaws and pitfalls!... Oh, my son, my son, get me out of this mess!"

  "Mother, I've a feeling the worst is yet to come," replied her young hopeful.

  Janey got up from where she had sprawled, and tried to catch Randolph's eye. But his face was averted and he stood motionless in a strained attitude of one listening.

  "What is it?" whispered Janey.

  "I thought I heard a horse," he replied. "Not the Indians'. It came from down the canyon."

  "Hands up!" rasped out a hard voice from behind them.

  Janey stood paralyzed. She saw Randolph extend his arms high, and then slowly turn.

  His ruddy tan fled. "My God--it's really Black Dick himself!" he breathed, huskily.

  Janey's heart skipped beating and then leaped. Turning, she saw two men in rough rider's garb. The foremost was heavy and broad, with what seemed a black blotch for a face. He held a gun which was pointed at Randolph.

  "Howdy, Professor," he said. "Jest stand steady-like while Snitz gets your gun."

  The second man, a little red-faced, redheaded, bow-legged person, with a greasy blue leather shirt, appropriated Randolph's weapon, and then very deftly his wallet.

  "Hum! Looks flatter'n a pancake to me," said the robber, eying the latter with disdain. "Wal, mebbe these hyar tenderfeet will be better heeled."

  Mrs. Durland and Bert stood rigid, with hands high and startled expressions.

  "Reckon Willie Whitepants ought to have a lot of money, an' if he hain't Mrs. Hatchet-face will."

  A swift search of Bert brought to light a few bills of small denomination and some change.

  "Wal, if he ain't a two-bit sport," exclaimed the leader, in disgust. "All them fine togs an' no yellow coin!... Say, lady, have you any money an' vallables?"

  "Not h-h-here," stammered Mrs. Durland. It was plain that not only was she lying but very frightened.

  "Scuse us, lady, fer gettin' so familiar when we ain't even been introduced. I'm Black Dick, from the border, an' this hyar pard of mine is Snitz Jones."

  "Oh, my! There are two Black Dicks!" groaned Mrs. Durland.

  "Wal, there's only one real Black Dick an' I'm the gent," returned the robber, with lofty humor.

  "He calls himself Black Dick," burst out the woman, dropping a weak hand to point it at Randolph.

  "Y-yes--so--he does," corroborated Bert, impressively.

  "The hell you say! Wal, now, I call that complimentary. But, folks, he was o
nly josh-in' you. Mabbe havin' fun with my rep!"

  "You--you mean he isn't Black Dick and you are?" faltered Mrs. Durland.

  "Precisely an' exactly, lady," returned Black Dick, amiably.

  "Who is he, then?"

  "Wal, I ain't sure, but I think he's Phil Randolph. The cowmen hyar aboot call him Professor Bone-digger."

  The guilty archaeologist dropped his hands with a laugh and sat down abruptly. Janey realized that the cat was out of the bag.

  "Impostor! Liar!" burst out Mrs. Durland.

  "Wal, I'll be dog-gone!" ejaculated Black Dick, with mild interest. "Snitz, somethin' up hyar, an' I've a hunch it's amoozin'. But we mustn't forget to collect all vallables fust."

  "Fork over, mum," said Snitz, thus admonished, his eager hands extended.

  "I--I tell you I've nothing," replied Mrs. Durland, weakly.

  "Search her, Snitz," ordered Black Dick, sternly. "Hey--lady--keep them hands up."

  Whereupon the little red-headed ruffian went at Mrs. Durland with an alacrity and verve that made Janey nearly choke, while at the same time she felt misgivings as to what might happen to her.

  "Aha! Hyar's a lump of somethin' that feels heavy an' sounds moosical," announced Snitz, slapping at Mrs. Durland's hip pocket.

  "You--thieving--lecherous--scoundrel!" Mrs. Durland screeched.

  It must have hurt her to see that fat jingling bag brought to light. Snitz burst it open. Greenbacks, gold coins--jewelry!

  "Whoopee!" yelled the little robber. "It's a haul, boss. This hyar lady shore didn't bulge all over fer nothin'."

  "Business is lookin' up," remarked Black Dick, with satisfaction. "Now Snitz, hand all that over to me, an' hey a look at this gurl. Looks to me she'd have a million--if you jedge by eyes... Ain't she a looker?"

  As Snitz approached Janey, grinning, eager, full of the devil as well as greed, she suddenly became terrified. This was not so funny.

  "Phil!" she cried. "Don't let him touch me."

  "Be sensible, child. They've held us up," admonished Randolph.

  Janey slipped off her diamond ring and stretched it out at the length of her arm and let it drop in Snitz's palm.

  "That's all I've got. Honest," she said, earnestly, in the stress of wanting to escape those rude hands.

  "Little gurl, you don't look like a prevaricateer, but we jest can't trust you," returned Black Dick, soothingly.

  "Peachy, if you run it'll be the wuss for you," added Snitz, reaching for her.

  His touch, following the devilish little gleam in his eye, inflamed Janey. With one wrench she tore free and struck at Snitz with all her might. A quick duck of head just saved him.

  "Whew!" he ejaculated, astounded and checked.

  "Wow!" added Black Dick, in gleeful admiration. "She strikes like a sidewinder, Snitz. If that one had landed you've hey knowed it... Wal, now what a fiery wench!"

  Janey blazed at the leering astonished robber. "You damn little beast! If you touch me again I'll knock your red head off!"

  Black Dick guffawed uproariously, while Snitz, though he joined in the mirth, took her seriously.

  "Who'd a thunk it, boss?" he said. "Look at that tight little fist an' the way she swings it."

  "Wal, I reckon I'm noticin'," added the leader, sheathing his gun and approaching. "We gotta be gennelmen, you know, Snitz... See hyar, mighty little gurl, are you tellin' us true? You hain't nothin' on you but this ring?"

  "That's all," returned Janey, breathing hard. "Wal, turn round fer inspection," he ordered. Janey did as she was bidden.

  "Do it again, an' not so damn fast. This ain't no merry-go-round."

  Whereupon Janey, realizing that she was to escape indignity, turned for their edification like a dress model in the Grande Maison de Blanc.

  "Peachy, you ain't got a whole lot of anythin' on," remarked Snitz, fervidly.

  Black Dick surveyed her with the appraising eyes of a connoisseur.

  "Wal, sweetie, I reckon if you had a dime hid on you I could see it," he concluded, with finality.

  Chapter 10

  "Say, you're gettin' too big a kid fer sech short dresses," observed Black Dick disapprovingly to Janey.

  "We were caught in the rain and my clothes shrunk," explained Janey.

  "Reckon you're about sixteen years old, hain't you?"

  "Oh, I'm a little more than that," dimpled Janey, very much pleased.

  "How much?"

  "Several years."

  "Humph! No one would take you fer a grown girl. I'm afeared your mother hain't brought you up right--lettin' you run around with your fat knees all bare."

  "Fat? They're not fat," retorted Janey, promptly insulted.

  "Excuse me. Wal, they're bare. You can't deny that. An' after I give your ma a lecture I'll give you one," concluded Black Dick.

  "Snitz," he said to his lieutenant, "you go diggin' round an' see if thar's anythin' more wuth takin'."

  Then he confronted the dejected and crushed Mrs. Durland. "Look ahyar, lady," he began. "Your gurl says she's eighteen years old. An' I'm tellin' you she hain't been brought up decent. Wearin' sech clothes out hyar in the desert! Why, it ain't respectable. An' it ain't safe, neither. You might meet up with some hombres thet was not gennelmen like me an' Snitz."

  Mrs. Durland was spurred out of her apathy into a wrathful astonishment that rendered her mute. Black Dick evidently saw that he had made a profound impression.

  "I took her fer a kid, like them I see in town, wearin' white cotton socks thet leave their legs bare," he said. "An' hyar she's of age. There ought to be somethin' done about it. You ought to be ashamed of yourself to let your dotter run around like thet."

  "My daughter?" burst out Mrs. Durland, furiously. "Not much! She's no kin of mine."

  "Excoose me, lady. I had a hunch she was sister to this dude you've got with you," returned Black Dick, coolly. "Come to think aboot it I might have known from her looks."

  Snitz approached at this moment, carrying various articles he had taken from Mrs. Durland's saddle. One of them was a light handbag, which Black Dick promptly turned inside out. It contained gloves, handkerchief, powder puff, cosmetics, and a magazine with a highly colored front page. The robber kept this and returned the other things.

  "Snitz, you poke around some more," he said laconically, and turned to Janey. She, from her perch on the packs, had expected this and prepared herself with sad face and tearful eyes.

  "Wot's your name?" he asked.

  "Janey."

  "Kind of suits you somehow... Wot you cryin' aboot?"

  "I'm very scared and unhappy."

  "Scared? Of me?"

  "Oh no. I'm not afraid of you. I think you're a real man. But these people have kidnaped me--to get money out of my father."

  "Ahuh. Wot'd this fellar Randolph pretend he was me fer?" asked Black Dick, growing more and more curious.

  "I suppose to intimidate me. But he wasn't a bit like you."

  "So thet old bird is a kidnaper?" mused Black Dick, darkly. "An' Randolph's been roped in the deal. Wal, I'll be doggoned. Shore are a lot of mean people. Now, I'm only an old desert pack rat, snoopin' round when I get broke, but I could see you was a nice girl. Kidnapin' wimmen fer money shore ain't in my line. I was jest throwed off a little by your dress bein' so short."

  "Thank you, Mr. Black Dick," said Janey, thinking that never had she received more sincere approval.

  "Wal, we'll see wot can be did with this old hen," said the robber. Then he happened to notice Randolph sitting there as if he had not a friend in the world.

  "Say, Randolph, my Navvy friends tipped me off aboot these pickin's. And what were you up to? Don't you reckon it's dangerous pretendin' to be me? There are men who'd shoot at you fer it."

  "I never thought of that at the time," returned Randolph, lowering his voice. "The honest truth is I was just in fun. And I'm not so sure it was all my idea."

  Then they got their heads together and conversed in such low tones that Janey could n
ot hear any more.

  "Boss, there ain't any more stuff worth hevin', onless it's the grub," announced Snitz, coming up. "Some orful fancy eats!"

  "Well, I've a grand idee," said Black Dick, slapping his knee, and he winked one of his great bold black eyes at Janey. "We're goin' to have aristocracy cook for us."

  Whereupon he approached Mrs. Durland with a slow rolling step, his sombrero cocked on one side of his head, his right thumb in the armhole of his vest, and his left hand holding onto the magazine.

  "Lady," said Dick, grandly, "you're goin' to be honored by cookin' a meal fer Black Dick. An' if you don't do your best I'll feel it my bounden duty to tote you off an' larn you how."

  Mrs. Durland fell back with horror in her face.

  "I like my wimmen with spunk," went on the desperado. "Could you lam to cuss, an' toss off a drink, an' kick me in the shins?"

  "Merciful heavens--no!"

  "Wal, then, you cook an' Whitepants hyar can be cookee. Rustle up some firewood... An' now, sister, waddle along. An' mebbe I'll let you off."

  "Beast!" screamed Mrs. Durland, and she ran toward the campfire.

  "Cook dinner thar, you two," yelled Dick. "An' don't be all day aboot it."

  Janey had observed that these men, despite the earlier action of robbing the party, and their later antics, took occasion now and then to gaze up and down the canyon. The younger one, Snitz, was particularly keen. These outlaws expected someone to come along or else were just habitually cautious and watchful.

  Black Dick and Snitz sat down close together, with the magazine on the former's knees. They had the air of guilty gleeful schoolboys about to partake in a thrilling and forbidden act. They made a picture Janey would never forget, and reminded her of the mischievous cowboys. All these natives of Arizona had some inimitable Western quality, the keynote of which was fun.

  Dick's huge dirty hands turned the pages, until suddenly they froze; then the bent heads grew absorbed.

  "Jerusalem!" ejaculated Dick.

  "Ain't she a looker!" exclaimed his comrade, raptly.

  They turned a page and giggled. Then Black Dick looked up, swept the immediate horizon, and happening to see Janey, he waved a hand, as if to tell her to go away far back somewhere and leave them to their joy. Dick turned another page; and they whispered argumentatively. Another page brought a loud gasp from Snitz and something that sounded very much like an oath from Black Dick. Then they were as petrified.