William MacLeod Raine

“ Though Yeager had enjoyed immensely his month with the Lunar people, he tasted again the dust of the drag-driver with a keen pleasure. He had not yet been able to get it out of his mind that he was only playing at work with the film company. When he heard some of the others complain about long hours and dangerous stunts he wished they could have ridden on the roundup for the Lone Star outfit about a week. Arizona had tanned the complexions of the actors, but it had left most of them still soft of muscle and fiber. The flabbiness of Broadway cannot be washed out of the soul in a month. ”

“ Who, then, if not Farrugia?"
"Nobody. I'm not an assassin. The story I told you is the truth, general."
"If that is true, Ramon Culvera's lies have brought you to your death."
The Mexican still sprawled with an arm flung across the table. Not a muscle of his lax body had grown more taut. But the eyes of the man—the terrible eyes that condemned men to their graves without a flicker of ruth—were fixed on the range-rider with a steady compulsion filled with hidden significance.
"Yes." Steve waited, alert and watchful. ”

“ The hill cattle he was driving were as wild as deer. A dozen times some lean steer had bolted and gone racing down a precipitous hillside like a rabbit. As often Four Bits had wheeled in its tracks and pounded through clutching cholla and down breakneck43 inclines after the escaping three-year-old. Fierce cactus thorns had torn at the leather chaps as horse and rider had ripped through them, zigzagging across the steep mountain slope at a gallop, the pony now slithering down the shale with braced forelegs, now taking washes and inclines with the surefooted litheness of a cat. ”

“ The range-rider saw the difficulties before him. He was alone in a camp of wild, ignorant natives who moved at the nod of Pasquale. When he let himself think of Ruth as a prisoner at the mercy of that savage old outlaw's whim, the heart of Steve failed him. What could one man do against so many? ”

“ Culvera shrugged his shoulders and spread his hands in a gesture of bland denial. "Lies! All lies, general. Have I not already told you the truth?"
Coldly Pasquale pronounced judgment. "What matter which one shot Mendoza. Both were firing. Both escaped together. Both are equally guilty." He clapped his hands. A trooper entered. "'Tonio, get a guard and take this man to prison. See that he is kept safe. To-morrow at dawn he will be shot."100
The trooper withdrew. Pasquale continued evenly. "We have one rule, Señor Yeager. He who kills one of us is our enemy. If we capture him, that man dies. ”

“ Culvera turned with a laugh to Ochampa. "He is what the Gringoes call game. Is it not so, major?"
Ochampa, his wounded leg on a chair, grunted.
"Turn about is fair play. How is your leg, major?" asked Steve.
The major glared at him. "Is it that I must put up with the insolence of this scoundrel, general?" he demanded.
"Not for long," replied Culvera suavely. "Pedro Cabenza, or Yeager, or whatever you call yourself, you have been tried for rebellion, insubordination, and conspiracy to kill General Pasquale. You have been sentenced to be shot at sunset. ”

“ The desert winds were whispering good-night to the sun as he crossed Dry Sandy just above the Sinks. Many dusty miles in Sonora had been clipped off by Four Bits before the chill moon rose above the black line of the distant hills and flooded a transformed land with magical light, touching a parched and arid earth to a vibrant and mysterious beauty of whispering yucca and fantastic cactus and weird outline of mesquite.
Twice he unsaddled the bronco, hobbled it, and lay on his back with his face to the million stars of night. The first time he gave Four Bits an hour's rest and grazing. ”

“ I haven't seen any man yet that can lay onto me without getting his hair curled for him. Me, I play my own hand, by God; and I don't care whether it's against Mr. Yeager or Mr. Farrar—or Mr. Threewit. See?"
"Your pay is waiting for you, Harrison."
"What? How's that?" he snarled.
"You're discharged—no longer working for the Lunar Company."84
Harrison's face became an apoplectic purple. He stood with clenched fists glaring at the director, ready to explode with rage. It was a part of his vanity that he had not supposed for an instant that Threewit would let him go. ”

“ Pasquale turned, his eyes like cold lights on a frosty night. "They'll pray for death a hundred248 times before it comes to them," he promised brutally. Then, with quick surprise, "Where's Holcomb?"
"He went forward with the men."
"Just like him," replied Gabriel, shrugging his shoulders. "The madman must always be in the thick of it. It's the Gringo way."
From his mesquite thicket Yeager kept up as rapid a fire as possible, using rifle and revolver alternately so as to deceive the enemy into believing the whole party was there. His object was merely to gain time for his escaping friends. ”

“ He rode like a Centaur, giving with his lithe, supple body to every motion of the animal. But though he took steep hillsides of shale on the run, the pony slithering down in a slide of rubble like a cat, the rider's alert eyes watched the footing keenly. He could afford if necessary to break a leg himself, but he could not afford to have the horse suffer such an accident. ”

“ The American had given up hope of life. He was trying to spur Pasquale into such an uncontrollable anger that his death would be a swift and easy one.
"Tie him hand and foot. Let a dozen men armed with rifles stay in the room with him till I return. Ochampa, I hold you responsible. If he escapes—"
"He won't escape," answered the major. "I'll see to that myself."
"See that you do." Pasquale swung to the saddle and looked around. "Ramon, you're not a fool. Where shall we look for this girl and those with her?" he demanded, scowling.
"They must have horses to escape, general. ”

“ Red bruises glistened on the forehead and the cheeks. A bit of plaster stretched diagonally above the right cheekbone where the prizefighter's knuckles had cut a deep gash. Little ridges covered his countenance as if it had been a contour map of a mountainous country. But through all the havoc that had been wrought flashed his white teeth in a cheerful smile.
The girl's lip trembled. "I'm sorry you—were hurt."
He flashed a quick look at her. "Sho! Forget it, Miss Seymour. I wasn't hurt any—none to speak of. It don't do a big husky like me any harm to be handed a licking." ”

“ The greedy, treacherous little eyes of the insurgent chief glittered.
He shook his head. "No, señorita. That is not possible. But you shall stay here—under the protection of Gabriel Pasquale himself. You shall have choice—Señor Harrison if you wish, another if you prefer it so. Take time. Perhaps—who192 knows?" He smiled and bowed with the gallantry of a bear as he kissed her hand.
"No—no. I want to go home," she sobbed.
"Young ladies don't always know what is best for them. Behold, we shall marry you to a soldier, one of rank. ”

“ Yet our friend the Gringo rides away in safety and laughs at you both. Ramon Culvera takes his hat off to Señor Yeager. He has played a winning game with courage and brains."
"I beat his fool head off when he joined the Lunar Company—the very day he joined. When I meet up with him again, I'll repeat," Harrison bragged, hammering the pillow with his clenched fist.
The Mexican looked politely incredulous. "Maybeso. This I say only. Yeager has played one game with Pasquale, one with you, and one with me. He comes out best each time. Of a sureness he is a strong man, wise, cool, resourceful. ”

“ The seventeen-year-old sentry was still doing duty outside the prison. At sight of Culvera he stopped rolling a cigarette to snatch up his rifle and fling a challenge at him.
"How is it that you have let your prisoner escape?" demanded the officer in Spanish after he had given the countersign.
"Escape? No, señor. Listen. Do you not hear him move?" replied in the boy in the same tongue. "I think the Gringo is having a fit. For ten—twenty—minutes he has beat on the floor and kicked at the walls. To die at daybreak is not to his liking." ”

“ Casually Yeager sauntered over to the roulette table. A fat man in duck trousers—he was the agent for a firm of rifle manufacturers, Steve learned later—was bucking the wheel hard. In front of him lay a pile of gold-pieces and several stacks of chips. He was very red in the face from excitement and cocktails. The range-rider put a half-dollar on the red and won. He let it ride, won again, and shifted the chips to the black. ”

“ Daisy Ellington would clap her hands and sparkle in her enthusiastic way. Shorty would begin to poke fun at him. Mrs. Seymour would probably just smile in her slow, motherly fashion and see that he got one of the choice steaks. And Ruth—would she flash at him her swift dimpled smile of pleasure? Or would she still be harboring malice toward him for having warned her against Harrison?132
Steve waited until he thought they would be seated before he opened the door and stepped into the dining-room. The effect was not at all what he had expected. Daisy was the first to see him. ”

“ Presently he was once more in the saddle, pushing across the tawny, empty desert toward the hills that hid Noche Buena, the village where Pasquale had his headquarters.
The smell of breakfast and the smoke of it were in the air when he rode into the street lined with brown adobe huts. The guards paid no attention to him. Gringos evidently were no unusual sight to the troopers of the insurgent chief. Most of these were wearing blue denim suits of overall stuff, though a few were clad in khaki. All carried bright-colored handkerchiefs around their necks. ”

“ When at last his vocabulary was exhausted, he turned savagely upon Threewit and Farrar.
"I'll see Pasquale gets the right dope on you fellows too. You're a pair of damned fools for coming here, believe me. If the old man can't get Yeager, he'll take his friends instead. Didn't I tell you I'd make you sick of what you did to me, Threewit? Good enough. I've got you both where I want you now. You'll get plenty of hell, take my word for it."
Threewit turned with dignity to the Mexican.169 "I have nothing to say to this man, Major Culvera. But you are a gentleman. We have been deceived. ”

“ It is 'Gabriel.' You settle with the traitor and then ride away to safety. Maldito! Why hesitate?"
"Because I'm a white man, general. We don't kill in the dark and run away. When I offer to fight him to a finish I go the limit—and then some. For I don't hate Culvera that bad. But I think a heap of Steve Yeager's life, so I'll stand pat on my proposition."
"Am I a fool, señor?" asked the Mexican harshly. "How do I know you would keep faith, that you would not ride away—what you call laugh in your sleeve at me? No! You will strike under my own eye—with my revolver at your heart. ”

“ It is my purpose to win and hold the friendship of the United States. I don't underestimate Pasquale. He was my friend and chief.279 He made a free Mexico possible. But he was primitive. He did not understand international relations. He treated the citizens of your great country according to his whims. That was a mistake. I shall so act as to win the approval of your great President."
"I am very glad to hear that. The surest foundation upon which you can build for a free Mexico is justice for all, general. And now, if I may see Yeager." ”

“ As the line moved forward, Yeager thought it time to let the enemy know where he was. He drew a bead on the general, moved his rifle slightly to the left, and fired. Pasquale drew his sword and waved it.
"Take the girl alive. Shoot down the traitor dogs with her," he cried savagely. "One hundred pesos to the man who kills either of them or captures her."
Steve answered this by firing twice, once with his revolver and almost immediately afterward with his rifle. Ochampa sat down suddenly. ”

“ Steve had disdained to beg for himself, but now he begged for the girl he loved.
"You're a man, Ramon Culvera. Nobody ever claimed there is any yellow in you. Your father was a gentleman and so is his son. You fight with men and not with timid girls. You wouldn't do this girl dirt because she is alone and has no friends near. Think of your own sisters, man."
Ochampa moved restlessly in his chair. "We had better send the girl home. She will bring us trouble else." ”

“ Perhaps this was why Harrison's stuff got across. By nature a swaggering bully, he had only to turn loose his real impulses to register what the director wanted of a bad man. In the rough-and-tumble life he had led, it had been Yeager's business to know men. He made no mistake about Harrison. The fellow might be a loud-mouthed braggart; none the less he would go the limit. The man was game.
Lennox met Steve one day as the latter was returning from the property room with a saddle Threewit had asked him to adjust. ”

“ Holcomb looked at the man with eyes of chill authority. "When I speak to the prisoner he answers. Understand?"
"Si, señor," muttered the sergeant, taken aback. "But the general said—"
"Forget it," cut in the Texan crisply. He turned to Yeager and spoke deliberately, looking straight at him. "Pasquale is going through with this thing. Just as sure as the old reprobate is alive the padre will marry your little friend to him within half an hour."
Was Captain Holcomb giving him a message? Steve did not know. It seemed to him that there was some hidden meaning in the long look of the steady eyes. ”

“ After he had eaten, nobody came near the prisoner for hours. Through the barred window he could see a sentry pacing up and down or squatting in the shade of the deserted building opposite. No other sign of human life reached him.
His nerves were keyed to a high tension. Culvera was an opportunist. Perhaps something had occurred to make him change his mind. Perhaps he had decided, after all, not to play for the approval of the United States. In revolutionary Mexico much can happen in a few hours.
Steve was a man of action. ”

“ Returning to the village, Steve observed a bunch of cattle a hundred yards from the trail. A Mexican lad, half asleep, was herding them. Immediately a devouring curiosity took hold of the cowpuncher. He wanted to see the brand on those cattle. It struck him that the shortest way was the quickest. He borrowed the field-glasses of Pasquale.
As he lowered the glasses after looking through them, Yeager laughed. "Funny how things come out. In this country cattle are like chips in a poker game. They ain't got any home, I reckon." ”