Steve Yeager

by William MacLeod Raine

  CHAPTER XX

  NEAR THE END OF HIS TRAIL

  Harrison strode up and down the room furiously. "Who in Mexico is thisPasquale?" he demanded, and then answered his own question: "Scum of theearth, a peon whipped for stealing whiskey, a hill robber and murderer.In my country they'd take the scoundrel and hang him by the neck."

  "True, amigo,--all true," assented Culvera suavely, examining hiscigarette as he spoke. "But it is well to remember that walls have ears,and therefore to whisper--when one speaks of Gabriel."

  "I'm not afraid of him," boasted the American, but his voice fell.

  "I am," differed Culvera frankly. "Ramon is fond of Ramon, so he choosesa safe time to pay his debts--and he does not advertise in advance thathe is going to settle."

  "Bah! You sit still and do nothing. But I--By God! I'll not stand it. Hehas given it out he will be married Saturday. We'll see about that.Maybe he'll be buried that day instead."

  The dark eyes of the Mexican swept him with a sidelong glance. If hecould do it without incurring responsibility himself, he was verywilling to spur on the fierce passion of this man.

  "Be careful, senor. Pasquale is dangerous."

  "You know he is dangerous--to Ramon Culvera. Why don't you strike and bedone with it?"

  "The time is not ripe. Some day--perhaps--" He let a shrug of hisshoulders finish the sentence for him.

  "It's always manana with you Mexicans," sneered Harrison with a savagelift of the lip. "You want to play it safe all the time. Why don't youtake a chance?"

  "I play my own cards, senor," returned Ramon equably.

  "You play 'em darned close to your stomach. Me, I go out on a limb oncetin a while."

  "Be sure you don't stay out there--at the end of a rope," smiled theMexican.

  "They haven't grown the hemp yet that will hang Chad Harrison." Theprizefighter leaned toward him, eyes shining. "If I pull it off and makemy getaway--what then? Will you send the girl to me, wherever I am?"

  "You mean, if you--"

  "--Give Pasquale what's been coming to him for a long time."

  The eyes of Culvera were slits of light. His face was a brown mask thatcovered an alert and wary attention.

  "I didn't hear what you said, amigo. It is better that I shouldn't. Butif I had charge of the army instead of General Pasquale my policy wouldbe different. I would return this Arizona girl to her home."

  "To her home!" broke in Harrison harshly.

  "To her husband," amended the Mexican significantly, adding after aninstant--"who is a good friend of mine."

  "You'll stand pat on that, will you?"

  "It would be my purpose to reward my friends--those who have helped thecause--if by any chance command of the Legion should fall to me."

  Harrison glared at him suspiciously. "You're so smooth I don't knowwhether I can believe you or not. You'd sell your own father out for theright price."

  "I pay my debts, senor--both kinds," suggested the Mexican, unmoved atthis outburst.

  "See that you do."

  "Be sure I shall, amigo," returned Culvera, looking straight at him fromnarrowed eyes that told nothing.

  The prizefighter took another turn up and down the room. He was anxiousand harassed as well as driven hard by hatred and jealousy.

  "The wolf is having me watched. His orders are that I'm not to beallowed to leave camp. I don't get any chance to see him alone. If youask me, I think he's fixing to have me knifed in the dark," Harrisonburst out.

  "Shouldn't wonder," agreed the young officer with a pleasant smile. Helived in an atmosphere where such things were not uncommon, and onoccasion could take a hand himself.

  "Fat lot you care," complained the photoplay actor sullenly. "Youwouldn't lift a hand to save your pardner."

  Culvera patted him on the shoulder cheerfully. "What can I do? Do I notlive under the shadow myself? Can I tell when the knife will fall on me?He is without bowels of mercy, this son of a thief. But this I know: ifyou are watched, you must not stay here. Gabriel will be suspicious lestwe are plotting something against him. Good luck, amigo."

  The heavyweight took away with him a heavy heart. He had reached thestage where his hand was against that of every man. Culvera he did nottrust at all out of his sight beyond the point where the interests ofthe young Mexican were parallel to his. In the whole camp he had nofriend, not even the girl for whom he fought. As for Pasquale, Harrisonhad told the truth. He believed the general had doomed him. Unless hestruck first, he was a lost man. Why had he been fool enough to boastto the old scoundrel what he would do? His temper had robbed him of thechance to kill and then escape.

  He passed down the street toward the river. A dozen boys and young mensat in the shadow of the adobe wall that fronted the road opposite oneof the corrals. It chanced that Harrison dropped his handkerchief atthis point and stooped to pick it up.

  Thirty minutes later a barefooted youth came down to the river carryingan olla for water. Harrison lay sleeping under a cottonwood that edgedthe trail. One arm was outstretched so that the closed fist lay almostacross the path.

  The soldier boy whistled gayly as he walked. Oddly enough, just as hereached the sleeping Gringo, the outflung arm lifted abruptly from theground for an inch or two. A little package shot four feet up into theair and was caught deftly by the barefoot trooper as it descended.

  The lips of Harrison barely moved. "Ride to-night, Enrique. ColonelFarrugia will also reward you well."

  "Si, senor," nodded Enrique, and went on his way.

  The face of the boy was toward the camp on the return journey. TheAmerican was still fast asleep. The lad went whistling past him withoutany sign of recognition.

  Several times during the next hour Harrison took a long pull from abottle he carried in his coat pocket. After a time he rose and walkedheavily down the main street of the village until he came to the housewhere Captain Holcomb had been put up.

  The Texan was sitting on his porch smoking a pipe. Behind him, a fewfeet away, Cabenza was cleaning a rifle for his new master.

  "I wanta talk to you about something, Captain Holcomb," announced thefilm actor.

  The soldier looked at him steadily. "Go to it," he ordered curtly.

  "This is private business."

  Holcomb did not turn his head or raise his voice. "Pedro, vamos."

  The feet of Cabenza could be heard hitting the dust as he vanishedaround the corner of the house.

  Without beating around the bush Harrison came to his subject. He jerkeda thumb over his right shoulder.

  "It's that girl up at the house there I want to talk about."

  "What about her?"

  "He's got no business keeping her there. She's a straight girl."

  "Is she?"

  "Yes, sir. She is."

  "Then why did you bring her here?" Holcomb's question was like thethrust of a sword.

  "Because I was a fool."

  "Better give things their right names. You were a damned villain."

  A dull flush rose to the cheeks of the prizefighter. "All right. Let itgo at that. I guess you're right. What I want to know now is whetheryou're going to stand for Pasquale's play. He's got one wifealready--half a dozen, far as I know. You going to let him put thiswedding farce over without a kick?"

  "Can I stop it?"

  "You can register a roar, can't you?"

  "Would it do any good? Did yours?"

  "You're different. He needs you to drill this ragged bunch of hoboes hecalls an army. Pasquale has a lot of respect for you. He talked a lotabout you before you came."

  "If you want to know, I've already spoken to him about it."

  "What did he say?"

  "Gave me to understand that if I'd attend to my business he'd mind his.And I'm going to do it," concluded Holcomb with sharp decision.

  "You mean you're going to lie down like a yellow dog and quit, thatyou'll let this wolf take that lamb and ruin her life! Is that what youmean?"

  Holcomb sat forward in his chair,
so that his strong, lean, sunburntface was as close to the other man as possible. "You talk both like acoward and a fool. You brought the girl here against her will. IfPasquale had been willing to let you force her into a marriage with you,I wouldn't have heard a squeal out of you. But he butted in. He took herfrom you. Now you come hollering to me, you quitter. Instead of fightingit out to a finish, you run to me. Talk about yellow curs. Faugh!"

  "What can I do?" exploded Harrison in a rage. "He has four men watchingher room at night now. Every time I move his cursed spies follow me.There are two of them over there now. Pasquale won't even let me seehim. He's aimin' to have me killed, I believe."

  "Serve you right," the soldier of fortune flung at him as he rose fromhis chair. "Killing is none too good for your kind. Pity some one didn'tstamp you out before you brought that little girl down here to this sinkof perdition."

  Harrison swallowed down his anger. "That's all right. I'll stand for it.If I didn't believe it myself, you'd have a heluvatime getting away withsuch talk. But it goes just as you lay it down. I'm a skunk and all therest of it. Now, listen! I ain't such a four-flusher as to lay down myhand before I've played it out. See! I'm not through with GabrielPasquale. Watch my smoke. Him and me hasn't come to a settlement yet."

  "Sounds to me like whiskey talk," answered the Texan scornfully. "Menwho do the kind of things you have done don't have the guts to play outa losing game."

  "Some do, some don't. By your reputation you're game. All right. Keepyour eyes open, captain."

  Snarling, the man turned away and walked down the street. Holcombwatched him go. There was something purposeful in the way theheavyweight moved. Perhaps, after all, he would make a fighting finishof it. The captain fervently hoped he would drag old Pasquale down withhim before they wiped him off the map. But he knew the betting odds wereall the other way.