CHAPTER XXII
A CONSPIRACY
In settling accounts with Harrison the Mexican general had prepared thescene, had arranged every detail of it carefully so as to eliminate anypossible chance the heavyweight might otherwise have. Yeager had nointention of letting Pasquale fix the conditions against him as he hadagainst the prizefighter.
"Old Gabriel was holding four aces and Chad only a busted flush.Pasquale knew it all the time. Harrison must 'a' guessed it too. But ifhe did, I don't see why he waited for the old man to spring his trap,"said Steve.
"It's a matter of temperament, I reckon. Some fellows are game enoughwhen you put 'em up against trouble good and hard, but they hang backand wait for it to come to 'em. I expect Harrison didn't know how toplay his hand. Looked that way to me when he talked with me. Likely hefigured he had better wait and see what happened," surmised the captain.
"He waited too long."
"Till it was too late to call for a new deal. He had to play those dealthim."
"Different here. We'll do the dealing ourselves, captain. Pasquale hasbeen through the deck and taken out all the big picture cards, but Iexpect I can rustle up a six-full that will come handy." Yeager smiledas he spoke at the .45 he was bestowing about his person.
Together they set the table for poker, putting on it two new decks, oneblue and one red, and a box of chips that had seen service in many amidnight fray. On a side table were cigars, cigarettes, and liquor inplenty. Holcomb intended to see that his guests were properlyentertained while Steve played the bigger and more dangerous gameoutside.
The range-rider knew that the odds were against him, that any one offifty trifling accidents might bring to failure the plan he had made.All he could do was to make his preparations as skillfully as he couldand then try to carry them out coolly and with determination.
The Mexican boy who had been hired to act as an attendant on thecard-players arrived and Yeager took his leave. The captain followed himto the porch.
"Good luck, Steve," he said quietly.
"Same to you, captain. We'll talk this all over across the line in God'scountry some time."
"Sure," nodded Holcomb. "Well, so-long."
The younger man answered the nod casually and turned away down thestreet. Neither of them thought of shaking hands. Whatever was to happenwas all in the day's work. Both of them belonged to that type ofWesterner which sees a thing through without any dramatics. That thishappened to be a particularly critical thing had no effect on theirmanner.
Holcomb lit a cigar and sat down on the porch to wait for his guests.They came presently. First were Pasquale and Ochampa, rough and ready asto clothes, unshaven, betraying continually the class from which theyhad risen. Culvera dropped in after a few minutes. He had discarded hisuniform and was in the picturesque regalia of the young Mexicancavalier. From jingling silver spurs to the costly gold-laced sombrerohe was every inch the dandy. His manners were the pink of urbanity.Nothing was lacking in particular to the affectionate deference heshowed his chief. It suggested somehow the love of a son and theadmiration of a devoted admirer.
The general was riding a wave of exhilaration. He had trodden downanother of his enemies and was about to take to himself the spoils ofthe battle. Still in his vigorous prime, he was assured the stars werebeckoning him to take the place in Mexico City that neither Madero norHuerta had been strong enough to hold. He promised himself to settledown to moderation, to have done with the wild drinking-bouts thatstill occasionally interfered with his efficiency. Meanwhile, to-nighthe was again saying farewell to his bachelor days. He drank liberallybut not excessively.
Ochampa proposed the health and happiness of the bride. It was drunkwith enthusiasm. The general gave them the United States, the sisterrepublic to the north, and spoke affectingly of his desire to promote abetter feeling between the countries by this marriage. The host had notexpected his poker party to develop so much oratory, but he rose brieflyto the occasion. The subject of his remarks was, "A United Mexico."
But it was Culvera who capped the climax. He rose, wineglass in hand,and waited impressively for silence. For five minutes his tongue flowedon in praises of the Liberator of the people. He heaped superlatives onextravagant approval after the fashion of our political orators.
"Need I put a name to this patriot and hero who has won the unboundedlove and loyalty of my youth?" he asked rotundly. "Need I name theBolivar, the Washington of Mexico, the next president of this greatrepublic? If so, I but repeat the name that is on the lips of all thethousands of our people to whom he is as a father--Gabriel Pasquale."
Holcomb smiled behind the hand that stroked his mustache. There wasnobody present who did not know pretty accurately how far Ramon'sattachment to his chief went. Gabriel himself, who embraced himaffectionately in thanks, had not the least doubt. But if he had noillusions in the matter, he did not intend on that account to warn hislieutenant prematurely that he was next on the list to Harrison.
Poker presently absorbed their attention. Holcomb was the genial host,watchful of their wants and solicitous that they should be supplied. Nosign of anxiety betrayed that he was keyed up to a high nervous tension.He told stories, laughed at those of the others, high spaded for drinks(though as a matter of fact he was as host furnishing the liquor), madepost-mortem examinations of the deck, and otherwise showed a properinterest. It was quite necessary that when Pasquale looked back over theevening with later developments in mind he should not be able to findany intimations that his host was accessory to the plan to escape.
Hour after hour slipped away. The captain began to let himself hope thatthe forlorn hope of Yeager had brought safety to his friends. Surely bythis time he must either have won or lost his throw for liberty.
A single shot broke the stillness of the night.
Pasquale, dealing, stopped with a card in his hand.
"Funny thing how the guns of sentries are always going offaccidentally," remarked Holcomb casually. "Boy, look to the glasses ofthese gentlemen."
The deal was finished. Culvera opened the pot. The captain stayed.Ochampa hesitated.
One shot, a second, and then a fusillade of them shattered the quiet.
Pasquale flung down his cards and rose hurriedly, overturning his chair."Mil diablos! What's to pay?" he cried.
The others followed him out of the room and house. He ran down thestreet as fast as a boy. Already men were emerging from houses halfdressed. The sound of shots came from back of the general'sheadquarters. Pasquale doubled around the house and vaulted a fence. Hebutted into an excited group and flung men to right and left.
"What's the matter?" he demanded.
A soldier pointed to the open window of the room that had been occupiedby Ruth Seymour. "She's gone, Your Excellency."
"Gone! Gone where?" roared Gabriel.
"Heaven knows. Her friends have rescued her."
Pasquale broke into a storm of curses.
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