by B. M. Bower
CHAPTER XVII
A FIESTA WE SHALL HAVE
Jack, unfolding the crumpled paper, read twice the note from Dade, andat each reading gave a little snort. He folded the paper, unfolded itand read again:
"Dear Jack,
"If Jose wants to fight, take a fool's advice and don't. Better quit the ranch and go back to town for a while--Valencia will get there ahead of Manuel, he says, and you can pull out before Manuel shows up. A licking might do Jose good, but it would stir up a lot of trouble and raise hell all around, so crawl into any hole you come to. I'll quit as soon as rodeo is over, and meet you in town. Now don't be bull-headed. Let your own feelings go into the discard for once, and do what's best for the whole valley. Everything's going smooth here. Noah's dove ain't got any the best of me and Jose, and the boys are working fine.
"Dade."
"At least your majordomo agrees with you, Don Andres," he said, twistingthe note unthinkingly in his fingers. "Dade wants me to sneak off totown and hide in Bill Wilson's cellar." There was more resentment in histone than the note itself had put there; for the argument which Valenciahad unwittingly interrupted had been threatening to become acrimonious.
"My majordomo," replied Don Andres, his habitual courtesy just savingthe words from becoming a retort, "continues to show that rare goodsense which first attracted me to him."
The senora moved uneasily in her chair and smiled deprecatingly at Jack,then imploringly at her husband. This was washing day, and thoseshiftless ones within would overlook half the linen unless she was onthe spot to watch and direct. But these two had come to their firstclash of wills, and her husband had little liking for such firm defianceof his wishes. Well she knew the little weather-signs in his face. Whenhis eyebrows took just that tilt, and when the nostrils were drawn inand quivered with his breathing, then was it wise that she should remainby his side. The senora knew well that words are never so harsh betweenthe male of our species when their women are beside them. So, sufferingmental torment because of the careless peonas, she, nevertheless, sentTeresita after the fine, linen apron from which she meant to remove awhole two inches of woof for the new pattern of drawnwork which theDonna Lucia had sent her. She would remain as a buffer between these twowhose eyes were too hard when they looked at each other.
"It seems a pity that young men nowadays cannot contain themselveswithout quarreling," sighed the senora, acting upon the theory thatanger is most dangerous when it is silent, and so giving theconversational ball a push.
"Is there no way, Senor, in which you might avert this trouble? Truly itsaddens me to think of it, for Jose has been as my own son. His motherand I were as twin sisters, Senor, and his mother prayed me to watchover him when she had gone. 'Si, madre mia' would he tell me, when Igave him the good counsel. And now he comes no more, and he wants tofight the duelo! Is there no way, Senor?"
The hardness left Jack's lips but not his eyes, while he looked from herto the don, smoking imperturbably his cigar beside her.
"There is no way, Senora, except for a coward. I have done what I could;I know that Jose's skill is great with riatas, and the choice was mine.I might have said pistols," he reminded her gently, but with meaning.
The plump hands of the senora went betrayingly into the air and herearrings tinkled with the horror that shook her cushiony person. "Notpistols! No, no--for then Jose would surely be killed! Gracias, Senor!With riatas my Jose can surely give good account of himself. Three timeshas he won the medalla oro in fair contest. He is a wizard with therawhide. Myself, I have wept with pride to see him throw it at thefiestas--"
"Mother mine, Margarita would have you come at once," the senoritainterrupted her. "Little Francisco has burned his legs with hot water,and Margarita thinks that your poultice--"
With twittering exclamations of dismay over the, accident the two womenhurried away to minister to the burned legs of Francisco, and Jack roseand flung away his cigarette. His mouth had again the stubborn lookwhich Dade knew so well, and dreaded also.
"I am sorry for this unpleasantness," he said perfunctorily, stoppingbefore Don Andres. "But as I told the senora, I have done all that I cando. I have named riatas. I don't think even you, Don Andres, could askmore of me. Surely you wouldn't want to know that your roof hadsheltered a coward?"
Don Andres waved away the challenge which the question carried. "Still,it seems a pity that my family must be made the subject of gossipbecause of the foolishness of two young men," he said doggedly,returning to his argument. "They will say that it is because of mydaughter that you fight; and the friendship of years must be set asidewhile two hot-heads vent their silly spite--"
"It need not." Jack's head went up an inch. "I can leave your employ,Don Andres, at any moment. There is no need for you to be caught betweenthe duties of hospitality and those of friendship. I can do anything--Iam willing to do anything--except crawl into a hole, as Dade wrote forme to do." A fine, spirited picture he made, standing there with theflames of wrath in his eyes and with neck stiff and his jaws set hardtogether.
Don Andres looked up at him with secret approval. He did not love acoward, and truly, this young fellow was brave. And Jose haddeliberately sought the quarrel from the first; justice compelled him toremember that.
"If it might be arranged--" The don was studying the situation and theman together. "Almost have I grasped the thread that will unravel thewhole. No, no! I do not mean your going, Senor. That would but limberthe tongue of scandal; and besides, I do not mean that I withdraw myfriendship from you. A man must be narrow, indeed, if he cannot carrymore than one friendship in his soul.
"Sit you down, Senor, while I think a moment," he urged. "Surely it canbe arranged without hurt to the fair name of--of any. Riatas--ah, now Ihave it, Senor! Dullard, not to have thought of it at once! Truly must Ibe in my dotage!" He did not mean that, of course, and he was quiteopenly pleased when Jack smiled and shook his head.
"Listen, Senor, and tell me if the plan is not a good one! To-morrowValencia shall ride back to the rodeo, with a message to all from me,Don Andres Picardo. I shall proclaim a fiesta, Senor--such a fiesta aseven Monterey never rivaled in the good old days when we were subject tohis Majesty, the King. A fiesta we shall have, as soon as may be afterthe rodeo is over. There will be sports such as you Americanos knownothing of, Senor. And there openly, before all the people, you shallcontest with Jose for a prize which I shall give, and for the medallaoro if you will; for you shall have the privilege of challenging Jose,the champion, to contest for the medalla. And there will be a prize--andI doubt not--" He was thinking that there would probably be two prizes,though only one which he could proclaim publicly.
"Myself, I shall write to Jose and beg him to consider the honor of hisfather's name and of the name of his father's friend, and consent thatthe duelo shall take place under the guise of sport. It must not be tothe death, Senor. Myself, I shall insist that it shall not be to thedeath. Before all the people, and women, and ninos--and besides, I donot wish that Jose should--" There again he checked himself, and Jack'slips twitched at the meaning he read into the break.
"But if there should be an accident?" Jack's eyes probed for the soul ofthe old man; the real soul of the Spanish grandee under thebroad-minded, easy-natured, Californian gentleman. He probed, and hethought he found what he was seeking; he thought it showed for just aninstant in his eyes and in the upward lift of his white mustache.
"An accident would be deplorable, Senor," he said. "We will hope thatthere will be no accident. Still, Jose is a very devil when the riata ishissing over his head, and he rides recklessly. Senor, permit me to warnyou that Jose is a demon in the saddle. Not for nothing does he hold themedalla oro."
"Gracias, Don Andres. I shall remember," said Jack, and walked away tothe stables.
He felt that the heart of Don Andres Picardo was warring with hisintelligence. That although his wide outlook and his tolerance wouldmake friends of the gringos and of the new government--and
quitesincerely--still, the heart of him was true Spanish; and the fortunes ofhis own blood-kin would send it beating fast or slow in sympathy, whilehis brain weighed nicely the ethics of the struggle. Jack was not muchgiven to analyzing the inner workings of a man's mind and heart, but hecarried with him a conviction that it was so.
He hunted up Diego, and found him putting a deal of gratuitous laborupon the silver trimmings of the new saddle. Diego being the peon inwhose behalf Jack had last winter interfered with Perkins, his gratitudetook the form of secret polishings upon the splendid riding-gear, thecleaning of Jack's boots and such voluntary services. Now the silvercrescents which Teresita ridiculed were winking up at him to show theycould grow no brighter, and he was attacking vigorously the "milky way"that rode behind the high cantle. Diego grinned bashfully when Jack'sshadow flung itself across the saddle and so announced his coming, andstood up and waited humbly before the white senor who had fought forhim, a mere peon, born to kicks and cursings rather than to kindness,and so had won the very soul of him.
"Bueno," praised Jack patronizingly. "Now I have some real work for you,Diego, and it must be done quickly and well."
"Gracias, Senor," murmured Diego, abashed by such favor, and bowed lowbefore his god.
"The riata must be dressed now, Diego, and dressed until it is soft as asilken cord, sinuous as the green snakes that live in the streams, andnot one strand must be frayed and weakened. Sabe? Too long have Ineglected to have it done, and now it must be done in haste--and donewell. Can you dress it so that it will be the most perfect riata inCalifornia, Diego?" A twinkle was in Jack's eyes, but Diego was toodazzled by the graciousness of his god to see it there. He madeobeisance more humble than before.
"Si, Senor," he promised breathlessly. "Never has riata been dressed asthis riata shall be. By the Holy Mother I swear it."
"Bueno. For listen! Much may hang upon the strength and the softness ofit." He fixed his eyes sternly upon the abject one. "It may mean my lifeor my death, Diego. For in a contest with Don Jose Pacheco will I useit."
"Si, Senor," gasped Diego, awed into trembling. "By my soul I swear--"
"You needn't. Save some of your energy for the rawhide. You'll want allyou've got before you're through." Jack, having made an impression deepenough to satisfy the most exacting of masters, dropped to his naturaltone and speech. "Get some one to help, and come with me to theorchard."
From the saddle-house he brought the six-strand, rawhide riata whichManuel had bought for him and which his carelessness had left stillstiff and unwieldy, and walked slowly into the orchard, examiningcritically each braided strand as he went. Manuel, he decided, wasright; the riata was perfect.
Diego, trailing two horsehair ropes and carrying a stout, smooth stickof oak that had evidently been used before for the work, came runningafter Jack as if he were going to put out a fire. Behind him trotted abig, muscular peon who saw not half the reason for haste that blazoneditself across the soul of Diego.
Thus the three reached the orchard, where Jack selected two pear treesthat happened to stand a few feet more than the riata length apart; andDiego, slipping a hair rope through the hondo of the riata, made fastthe rope to a pear tree. The other end he tied to the second hair rope,drew the riata taut and tied the rope securely to the second tree. Hepicked up the oaken stick, examined it critically for the last time,although he knew well that it was polished smooth as glass from its workon other riatas, twisted the riata once around it and signed to theother peon.
Each grasping an end of the stick and throwing all their weight againstit, they pushed it before them along the stretched riata. As theystrained toward the distant pear tree the rawhide smoked with thefriction of the stick in the twist. It was killing work, that first tripfrom tree to tree, but Diego joyed in thus serving his blue-eyed god.As for the other, Roberto, he strained stolidly along the line, usingthe strength that belonged to his master the patron just asmatter-of-factly as he had used it since he was old enough to be calleda man.
Jack, leaning against a convenient tree in the next row, smoked acigarette and watched their slow, toilsome progress. Killing work itwas, but the next trip would be easier after that rendering of the stifftissue. When the stick touched the hondo, the two stopped and panted fora minute; then Diego grasped his end of the stick and signaled thereturn trip. Again it took practically every ounce of strength they hadin their muscular bodies, but they could move steadily now, instead ofin straining, spasmodic jerks. The rawhide sizzled where it curledaround the stick. They reached the end and stopped, and Jack commandedthem to sit down and have a smoke before they did more.
"It is nothing, Senor. We can continue, since the senor has need ofhaste," panted Diego, brushing from his eyes the sweat that dripped fromhis eyebrows.
"Not such haste that you need to kill yourselves at it," grinned Jack,and went to examine the riata. Those two trips had accomplished muchtowards making it a pliable, live thing in the hands of one skilled todirect its snaky dartings here and there, wherever one willed it to go.Many trips it would require before the riata was perfect, and then--
"The senor is early at his prayers," observed a soft, mocking voicebehind him.
Jack dropped the riata and turned, his whole face smiling a welcome. ButTeresita was in one of her perverse moods and the mockery was not all inher voice; her eyes were maddeningly full of it as she looked from himto the stretched riata.
"The senor is wise to tell the twists in his riata as I tell my beads--aprayer for each," she cooed. "For truly he will need the prayers, and ariata that will perform miracles of its own accord, if he would fightJose with rawhide." There was the little twist of her lips afterwardwhich Jack had come to know well and to recognize as a bull recognizesthe red serape of the matador.
"Senor," she added impressively, holding back her hair from blowingacross her face and gazing at him wide-eyed, with a wicked assumption ofguileless innocence, "at the Mission San Jose there is a very old andvery wise woman. She lives in a tule hut behind the very walls of theMission, and the Indians go to her by night when dreams have warned themthat death threatens. She is a terribly wise old woman, Senor, for shecan look into the past and part the curtain which hides the future. Forgold will she part it. And for gold will she put the curse or theblessing where curse or blessing is needed most. Go you to the old womanand have her put a blessing upon the riata when it is dressed and youhave prayed your prayers upon it, Senor! For five pesos will she blessit and command it to fly straight wherever the senor desires that itshall fly. Then can you meet Jose and not tremble so that the spur-bellstinkle."
Jack went hot inside of him, but he made his lips smile at the jest; forso do brave men try to make light of torment, whether it be fire orflood or the tongue of the woman they love.
"All right," he said. "And I think I'll have the judges rule that thefight shall be at fifty paces, as I would if we were to fight withpistols." He tried to keep his irritation out of his voice, but theremust have been enough to betray him.
For Teresita smiled pleasedly and sent another barb. "It would be wise.For truly, Jose's equal has never been seen, and caballeros I have knownwho would swear that Jose's riata can stretch to fifty paces and more tofind its mark."
"Is it anxiety for me that makes you so solicitous?" demanded Jack,speaking low so that the peons could not overhear.
"Perhaps--and perhaps it is pride; for I know well the skill and thebravery of my Jose." Again the twist of her pretty, pouting lips,blood-red and tempting.
Her Jose! For just a minute the face of Teresita showed vague to himbefore his wrathful eyes.
"When you tell your beads again, Senorita," he advised her crisply, "saya prayer or two for your Jose also. For I promise you now that I willshame him before your face, and if he lives afterward to seek yoursympathy, it will be by grace of my mercy!"
"Santa Maria, what a fierce senor!" Her laughter mocked him. "Till thefiesta I shall pray--for you!" Then she turned and ran, looking over hershoulder no
w and again to laugh at him.
Always before, when she had teased and flouted and fled laughing, Jackhad pursued her with long strides, and in the first sequestered nook hadmade her lips pay a penalty. But this time he stood still and let hergo--which must have puzzled the senorita very much, and perhaps piquedher pride as well. For the girl who flouts and then flees laughingsurely invites pursuit and an inexorable exaction of the penalty. And ifshe is left to flee in safety, then must the flouted one pay for hisstupidity, and pay high in the coin of love.
