Heart of the Sunset Part 22

As the coach went bouncing across the international bridge, Dolores said, spitefully: "It will take more than the pardon of poor Juan Garcia to unlock Heaven for that bandit. He is the wickedest man I ever met--yes, probably the wickedest man in the world."

"He has been kind to us."

"Bah! He has a motive. Do you notice the way he looks at you? It is enough to d.a.m.n him for all eternity."

Upon her arrival at the hotel Alaire received an agreeable surprise, for as her vehicle paused, at the curb David Law stepped forward, hat in hand.

"What bloodthirsty business brings you to Pueblo?" she queried, when they had exchanged greetings.

Law smiled at her. "I came to offer free board and lodging to a poor Greaser. But he ain't here. And you, ma'am?"

Alaire briefly outlined the reasons that had taken her to La Feria and the duties that had kept her busy since her return, while Dave nodded his understanding. When, however, he learned that she was counting upon General Luis Longorio's aid in securing justice, his expression altered. He regarded her with some curiosity as he inquired:

"Isn't Longorio the very man who robbed you?"

"Yes."

"And now he offers to square himself?"

"Precisely. You don't seem to put much faith in him."

"Mexicans are peculiar people," Law said, slowly. "At least we consider them peculiar--probably because they are different to us. Anyhow, we don't understand their business methods or their habits of mind; even their laughter and their tears are different to ours, but--from my experience with them I wouldn't put much confidence in this Longorio's word. I say this, and I'm supposed to have a little Mexican blood in me."

During this brief conversation they had entered the hotel, and now the lobby idlers took quick cognizance of Mrs. Austin's presence. The lanky, booted Ranger excited no comment, for men of his type were common here; but Alaire was the heroine of many stories and the object of a wide-spread curiosity; therefore she received open stares and heard low whisperings. Naturally resenting this attention, she gave her hand to Law more quickly than she would have done otherwise.

"I hope we shall see each other again," she murmured.

"That's more'n likely; I'm located in your neighborhood now," he informed her. "I'm leaving for Jonesville in the morning."

"By train?"

"No'm. I'm goin' to follow the river road if I can get an automobile."

Mindful of the Ranger's courtesy to her on their previous meeting, Alaire said: "Won't you go with us? We intend to start early."

"I'd love to, ma'am--but I'll have to make a few inquiries along the line."

"Good! It is a large car and"--she smiled at him--"if we have tire trouble I may need your help. Jose, my man, is a splendid horse-breaker, but he seems to think a tire tool is some sort of a fancy branding-iron. His mechanical knowledge is limited to a bridle-bit and a cinch, and I'm almost certain he believes there is something unG.o.dly about horseless wagons."

Dave was nearly speechless with delight, and when the mistress of Las Palmas had gone up-stairs he felt inclined to pinch himself to see if he were dreaming. He had pursued a fruitless quest during the past few days, and his resentment had grown as he became certain that Tad Lewis had sent him on a wild-goose chase; but the sight of Alaire miraculously restored his good spirits, and the prospect of a long, intimate ride in her company changed the whole trend of his thoughts.

His disappointment at not seeing her upon his visit to Las Palmas had only served to enhance his memories of their first meeting, and time, now, had deepened his interest tenfold. Yes, she was "The Lone Star,"

the estrella brillante of his empty sky.

When the supper-hour came he managed by carefully watching the dining-room to time his meal with Mrs. Austin's. He even ventured to hope that they might share the same table, but in this he was disappointed. However, from where he sat he could see her profile and wors.h.i.+p her to his heart's content, and when she favored him with a smile and a nod he was happy.

All without his knowledge, Dave realized, this woman had secured an amazing hold over him. He had thought a great deal about her, of course, but his thoughts had been idle, and it had required this second encounter to make him know the truth. Now, however, there could be no doubt about his feelings; he was more than romantically interested, the mere sight of her had electrified him. The discovery distressed him, and he very properly decided that the affair should end here, since it could lead to nothing except disappointment.

But who can govern a wayward fancy? One moment Law promised himself to see no more of this married woman; the next he wondered how she would occupy the evening, and ventured to hope that he might have a chance to talk with her.

After supper, however, she was nowhere to be found. When his first chagrin had pa.s.sed he decided that this was exactly as it should be. He didn't like to see women make themselves conspicuous in hotels.

At the time of this story relations between the United States and the established government of Mexico were at such high tension that a hostility had sprung up between the troops fronting each other along the Rio Grande, and in consequence their officers no longer crossed the boundary, even when off duty. It created a flurry of suppressed excitement, therefore, when Luis Longorio, the autocrat of the Potosista forces, boldly crossed the bridge, traversed the streets of Pueblo, and entered the Hamilton Hotel.

From his seat in the lobby Law heard the general inquire for Mrs.

Austin, and then saw him ascend in the direction of the parlor. What the devil could Longorio want with "The Lone Star" at such an hour? the Ranger asked himself. Why should he presume to call upon her unless--he was interested? Mexican officers, in these parlous times, were not given to social courtesies, and Longorio's reputation was sufficiently notorious to render his attentions a cause for gossip under any circ.u.mstances.

Dave rose and strolled restlessly about the hotel. A half-hour pa.s.sed and Longorio did not reappear; an hour dragged by, and then Dave took occasion to go to his room. A glance through the open parlor door showed the foreigner in closest conversation with Mrs. Austin. They were laughing; they were alone; even Dolores was nowhere to be seen.

When Dave returned to his big rocking-chair he found it uncomfortable; he watched the clock anxiously; he chewed several cigars viciously before realizing that he was jealous--yes, madly, unreasonably jealous.

So! His divinity was not as unapproachable as he had imagined.

Doubtless Longorio was mad over her, which explained the fellow's willingness to help her exact reparation from his government. Fine doings for a respectable married woman! It was wrong, scandalous, detestable!

After a time Dave rose impatiently. What had come over him, anyhow? He must be crazy to torture himself in this fas.h.i.+on. What went on up-stairs certainly was none of his business, and he had better far amuse himself. In accordance with this excellent reasoning, he went to a picture-show. But he could not become interested. The flat images on the screen failed to divert him, and the only faces he saw were those of Luis Longorio and the lone mistress of Las Palmas.

Had Dave only known the truth, he would have gained a grim comfort from it, for Alaire Austin was not enjoying herself this evening. Her caller stayed on interminably and she became restive under the flow of his conversation. For some reason or other Longorio was not the romantic figure he had been; in his citizen's clothes he was only a dandified Mexican gallant like any number of others. The color was gone from the picture; this quixotic guerrilla hero, this elegant Ruy Blas, was nothing more than a tall, olive-skinned foreigner whose ardor was distasteful. Longorio was tiresome.

XIV

JOSE SANCHEZ SWEARS AN OATH

On this same evening a scene of no little significance was taking place at Las Palmas. Ed Austin was entertaining callers, and these were none other than Tad Lewis and Adolfo Urbina.

The progress of events during the last few days had shaped this conference, for, as Dave had forecast during his conversation with Judge Ellsworth, the local prosecuting attorney saw in the Guzman cattle case an opportunity to distinguish himself, and was taking action accordingly. He had gathered considerable evidence against Urbina, and was exerting himself to the utmost for an indictment. He had openly declared that the testimony of Ricardo Guzman and his other witnesses would convict the suspect, and the fact that his politics were opposed to Ed Austin's complicated matters still further. It was the unwelcome news of all this which had brought Tad Lewis and his Mexican helper to Las Palmas under cover of darkness. Having gone over the circ.u.mstances in detail, Lewis concluded:

"We're depending on you, Ed. You got to stand pat."

But Austin was lukewarm. He had experienced a change of heart, and the cause appeared when he read aloud a letter that day received from Judge Ellsworth, in which the judge told of his meeting with Dave Law, and the Ranger's reasons for doubting Ed's word.

"I've got to take water," "Young Ed" told his visitors, "or I'll get myself into trouble." Then querulously he demanded of Adolfo: "Why in h.e.l.l did you come here, anyhow? Why didn't you keep to the chaparral?"

Adolfo shrugged. "I thought you were my friend."

"Sure!" Tad agreed. "Urbina's been a friend to you, now you got to stick to him. We got to hang together, all of us. My evidence wouldn't carry no weight; but there ain't a jury in South Texas that would question yours. Adolfo done the right thing."

"I don't see it," Ed declared, petulantly. "What's the use of getting me into trouble? There's the river; they can't follow you across."

But Urbina shook his head.

"You know he can't cross," Tad explained. "His people would shoot him if he ever went to Mexico."

"Well, he'll be caught if he stays here. You daren't send that d.a.m.ned Ranger on another blind trail. If Adolfo can't go south he'll have to go north."

"Not on your life," affirmed Lewis. "If he runs it'll prove his guilt and look bad for me. I'm the one they're after, and I don't stand any too good, as you know. You got to go through with this, Ed."