Bucky O'Connor: A Tale of the Unfenced Border
CHAPTER 9. "ADORE HAS ONLY ONE D."
After all, adventures are to the adventurous. In this prosaic twentiethcentury the Land of Romance still beckons to eager eyes and gallanthearts. The rutted money-grabber may deny till he is a nerve-rackedcounting-machine, but youth, even to the end of time, will laugh toscorn his pessimism and venture with elastic heel where danger andmystery offer their dubious hazards.
So it was that Bucky and his little comrade found nothing of dulnessin the mission to which they had devoted themselves. In their task ofwinning freedom for the American immured in the Chihuahua dungeon theyalready found themselves in the heart of a web of intrigue, the stakesof which were so high as to carry life and death with them in thebalance. But for them the sun shone brightly. It was enough that theyplayed the game and shared the risks together. The jocund morning was intheir hearts, and brought with it an augury of success based on nothingso humdrum or tangible as reason.
O'Connor carried with him to the grim fortress not only his permit foran inspection, but also a note from O'Halloran that was even more potentin effect. For Colonel Ferdinand Gabilonda, warden of the prison, hada shrewd suspicion that a plot was under way to overthrow the unpopularadministration of Megales, and though he was an office-holder under thepresent government he had no objection to ingratiating himself withthe opposition, providing it could be done without compromising himselfopenly. In other words, the warden was sitting on the fence waiting tosee which way the cat would jump. If the insurgents proved the strongerparty, he meant to throw up his hat and shout "Viva Valdez." On theother hand, if the government party crushed them he would show himselffussily active in behalf of Megales. Just now he was exerting all hisdiplomacy to maintain a pleasant relationship with both. Since it wasentirely possible that the big Irishman O'Halloran might be the man onhorseback within a very few days, the colonel was all suave words andhoneyed smiles to his friend the ranger.
Indeed he did him the unusual honor of a personally conductedinspection. Gabilonda was a fat little man, with a soft, purring voiceand a pompous manner. He gushed with the courteous volubility of hisnation, explaining with great gusto this and that detail of the work.Bucky gave him outwardly a deferent ear, but his alert mind and eyeswere scanning the prisoners they saw. The ranger was trying to find inone of these scowling, defiant faces some resemblance to the picture hismind had made of Henderson.
But Bucky looked in vain. If the man he wanted was among these he hadchanged beyond recognition. In the end he was forced to ask Gabilondaplainly if he would not take him to see David Henderson, as he knew aman in Arizona who was an old friend of his, and he would like to beable to tell him that he had seen his friend.
Henderson was breaking stone when O'Connor got his first glimpse of him.He continued to swing his hammer listlessly, without looking up, whenthe door opened to let in the warden and his guests. But something inthe ranger's steady gaze drew his eyes. They were dull eyes, and sullen,but when he saw that Bucky was an American, the fire of intelligenceflashed into them.
"May I speak to him?" asked O'Connor.
"It is against the rules, senor, but if you will be brief--" The colonelshrugged, and turned his back to them, in order not to see. It must besaid for Gabilonda that his capacity for blinking what he did not thinkit judicious to see was enormous.
"You are David Henderson, are you not?" The ranger asked, in a lowvoice.
Surprise filtered into the dull eyes. "That was my name," the mananswered bitterly. "I have a number now."
"I come from Webb Mackenzie to get you out of this," the ranger said.
The man's eyes were no longer dull now, but flaming with hatred. "Cursehim, I'll take nothing from his hands. For fifteen years he has let merot in hell without lifting a hand for me."
"He thought you dead. It can all be explained. It was only last weekthat the mystery of your disappearance was solved."
"Then why didn't he come himself? It was to save his little girl I gotmyself into this place. If I had been in his shoes I would have come ifI'd had to crawl on my hands and knees."
"He doesn't know yet you are here. I wrote him simply that I knew whereyou were, and then I came at once." Bucky glanced round warily at thefat colonel gazing placidly out of the barred window. "I mean torescue you, and I knew if he were here his impulsiveness would ruineverything."
"Do you mean it? For God's sake! don't lie to me. If there's no hopefor me, don't say there is." The prisoner's voice shook and his handstrembled. He was only the husk of the man he had been, but it didBucky's heart good to see that the germ of life was still in him. Backin Arizona, on the Rocking Chair Ranch, with the free winds of theplains beating on his face, he would pick up again the old strands ofhis broken life, would again learn to love the lowing of cattle and theearly morning call of the hooter to his mate.
"I mean it. As sure as I stand here I'll get you out, or, if I don't,Webb Mackenzie will. We're calling the matter to the attention of theUnited States Government, but we are not going to wait till that time tofree you. Keep up your courage, man. It is only for a little time now."
Tears leaped to the prisoner's eyes. He had been a game man in the deadyears that were past, none gamer in Texas, and he could still face hisjailers with an impassive face; but this first kindly word from hisnative land in fifteen years to the man buried alive touched the fountof his emotions. He turned away and leaned against the grating of hiscell, his head resting on his forearm. "My God! man, you don't know whatit means to me. Sometimes I think I shall go mad and rave. After allthese years But I know you'll fail--It's too good to be true," hefinished quietly.
"I'll not fail, though I may be delayed. But I can't say more. Gabilondais coming back. Next time I see you it will be to take you out tofreedom. Think of that always, and believe it."
Gabilonda bowed urbanely. "If the senor has seen all he cares to of thisdepartment we will return to the office," he suggested suavely.
"Certainly, colonel. I can't appreciate too much your kindness inallowing me to study your system so carefully."
"Any friend of my friend the Senor O'Halloran is cherished deeply in myheart," came back the smiling colonel, with a wave of his plump, softhand.
"I am honored, sir, to receive such consideration at the hands of sodistinguished a soldier as Colonel Gabilonda," bowed Bucky gravely, inhis turn, with the most flowery Spanish he could muster.
There was another half-hour of the mutual exchange of compliments beforeO'Connor could get away. Alphonse and Gaston were fairly outdone, forthe Arizonian, with a smile hidden deep behind the solemnity of his blueeyes, gave as good as he got. When he was at last fairly in the safetyof his own rooms he gave way to limp laughter while describing to hislittle friend that most ceremonious parting.
"He pressed me to his manly bay window, Curly, and allowed he was plumbtickled to death to have met me. Says I, coming back equal strong, 'twasthe most glorious day of my life."
"Oh, I know YOU," answered young Hardman, with a smile.
"A friend of his friend O'Halloran--"
"Mr. O'Halloran was here while you were away. He seemed very anxiousto see you; said he would call again in an hour. I think it must beimportant."
Came at that instant O'Halloran's ungentle knock, on the heels of whichhis red head came through the open door.
"You're the very lad I'm wanting to see, Bucky," he announced, andfollowed this declaration by locking all the doors and beckoning him tothe center of the room.
"Is that tough neck of yours aching again, Reddy?" inquired his friendwhimsically.
"It is that, me bye. There's the very divil to pay," he whispered.
"Cough it out, Mike."
"That tyrant Megales is onto our game. Somebody's leaked, or else he hasa spy in our councils--as we have in his, the ould scoundrel."
"I see. Your spy has told you that his spy has reported to him--"
"That the guns are to be brought in to-night. He has sent out a guardto bring them in safely to
him. If he gets them, our game is up, me son,and you can bet your last nickle on that."
"If he gets them! Is there a chance for us?"
"Glory be! there is. You see, he doesn't know that we know what he hasdone. For that reason he sent out only a guard of forty men. If he sentmore we would suspect what he was doing, ye see. That is the way the oldfox reasoned. But forty--they were able to slip out of the city onlast night's train in civilian's clothes and their arms in a couple ofcoffins."
"Why didn't he send a couple of hundred men openly, and at the same timearrest you all?"
"That doesn't suit his book at all. For one thing, he probably doesn'tknow all of us, and he doesn't want to bag half of us and throw the restinto immediate rebellion. It's his play not to force the issue untilafter the election, Bucky. He controls all the election machinery andwill have himself declared reelected, the old scamp, notwithstandingthat he's the most unpopular man in the State. To precipitate troublenow would be just foolishness, he argues. So he'll just capture ourarms, and after the election give me and my friends quiet hell. Nothingpublic, you know--just unfortunate assassinations that he will regretexceedingly, me bye. But I have never yit been assassinated, and, onprinciple, I object to being trated so. It's very destructive to a man'sfuture usefulness."
"And so?" laughed the ranger.
"And so we've arranged to take a few lads up the line and have a trainhold-up. I'm the robber-in-chief. Would ye like to be second in commandof the lawless ruffians, me son?"
Bucky met his twinkling eye gaily. "Mr. O'Connor is debarred from takingpart in such an outrageous affair by international etiquette, but heknows a gypsy lad would be right glad to join, I reckon."
"Bully for him. If you'll kindly have him here I'll come around andcollect him this evening at eight-thirty sharp."
"I hope you'll provide a pleasant entertainment for him."
"We'll do our best," grinned the revolutionist. "Music provided byMegales' crack military band. A lively and enjoyable occasion guaranteedto all who attend. Your friend will meet some of the smartest officersin the State. It promises to be a most sumptuous affair."
"Then my friend accepts with pleasure."
After the conspirator had gone, Frank spoke up. "You wouldn't go awaywith him and leave me here alone, would you?"
"I ce'tainly shouldn't take you with me, kid. I don't want my littlefriend all shot up by greasers."
"If you're going, I want to go, too. Supposing--if anything were tohappen to you, what could I do?"
"Leave the country by the next train. Those are the orders."
"You're always talking about a square deal. Do you think that is one? Imight say that I don't want YOU shot. You don't care anything about myfeelings." The soft voice had a little break in it that Bucky loved.
He walked across to his partner, that rare, tender smile of his in hiseyes. "If I'm always talking about a square deal I reckon I have got togive you one. Now, what would you think a square deal, Curly? Would itbe square for me to let my friend O'Halloran stand all the risk of thisand then me take the reward when Henderson has been freed by him? Wouldthat be your notion of the right telling?"
"I didn't say that, though I don't see why you have to mix yourselfup in his troubles. Why should you go out and kill these soldiers thathaven't injured you?"
"I'm not going to kill any of them," he smiled "Besides, that isn't theway I look at it. This fellow Megales is a despot. He has made outto steal the liberty of the people from them. President Diaz can'tinterfere because the old rascal governor does everything with thatsmooth, oily way of his under cover of law. It's up to some of thepeople to put up a good strong kick for themselves. I ain't a bit sorryto give them the loan of my foot while they are doing it."
"Then can't I go, too? I don't want to be left alone here and you awayfighting."
Bucky's eyes gleamed. He dared an experiment in an indifferent drawl."Whyfor don't you want to stay alone, kid? Are you afraid for yourselfor for me?"
His partner's cheeks were patched with roses. Shyly the long, thicklashes lifted and let the big brown eyes meet his blue ones. "Maybe I'mafraid for both of us."
"Would you care if one of their pills happened along in the scrimmageand put me out of business? Honest, would you?"
"You haven't any right to talk that way. It's cruel," was the reply thatburst from the pretty lips, and he noticed that at his suggestion theroses had died from soft cheeks.
"Well, I won't talk that way any more, little partner," he answeredgaily, taking the small hand in his. "For reasons good. I'm fire-proof.The Mexican bullet hasn't been cast yet that can find Bucky O'Connor'sheart."
"But you mustn't think that, either, and be reckless," was the nextinjunction. The shy laugh rang like music. "That's why I want to goalong, to see that you behave yourself properly."
"Oh, I'll behave," he laughed; for the young man found it very easy tobe happy when those sweet eyes were showing concern for him. "I've gotseveral good reasons why I don't aim to get bumped off just yet. Heapsof first-rate reasons. I'll tell you what some of them are one of thesedays," he dared to add.
"You had better tell me now." The gaze that fell before his steady eyeswas both shy and eager.
"No, I reckon I'll wait, Curly," he answered, turning away with along breath. "Well, we better go out and get some grub, tortillas andfrijoles, don't you think?"
"Just as you like." The lad's breath was coming a little fast. They hadbeen on the edge of some moment of intimacy that Bucky's partner bothlonged for and dreaded. "But you have not told me yet whether I can gowith you."
"You can't. I'm sorry. I'd like first-rate to take you, if you want togo, but I can't do it. I hate to disappoint you if you're set on it, butI've got to, kid. Anything else you want I'll be glad to do."
He added this last because Frank looked so broken-hearted about it.
"Very well." Swift as a flash came the demand: "Tell me these heaps offirst-rate reasons you were mentioning just now."
Under the sun-tan he flushed. "I reckon I'll have to make anotherexception, Curly. Those reasons ain't ripe yet for telling."
"Then if you are--if anything happens--I'll never know them. And youpromised you would tell me--you, who pretend to hate a liar so," shescoffed.
"Would it do if I wrote those reasons and left them in a sealedenvelope? Then in case anything happened you could open it and satisfythat robust curiosity of yours." He recognized that he had trappedhimself, and he was making the best bargain left him.
"You may write them, if you like. But I'm going to open the letter,anyway. The reasons belong to me now. You promised."
"I'll make a new deal with you, then," he smiled. "I'll take awful goodcare of myself to-night if you'll promise not to open the envelope fortwo weeks unless--well, unless that something happens that we ain'texpecting."
"Call it a week, and it's a bargain."
"Better say when we're back across the line again. That may be inside ofthree days, if everything goes well," he threw in as a bait.
"Done. I'm to open the letter when we cross the line into Texas."
Bucky shook the little hand that was offered him and wished mightilythat he had the right to celebrate with more fervent demonstrations.
That afternoon the ranger wrote with a good deal of labor the letterhe had promised. It appeared to be a difficult thing for him to deliverhimself even on paper of those good and sufficient reasons. He madeand destroyed no less than half a dozen openings before at last hewas fairly off. Meanwhile, Master Frank, busy over some alterations inBucky's gypsy suit, took pleasure in deriding with that sweet voice theharassed correspondent.
"It might be a love letter from the pains you take with it. Would youlike me to come and help you with it?" the sewer railed merrily.
"I ain't used to letter writing much," apologized the scribe, wiping hisbedewed brow, which had suddenly gone a shade more flushed.
"Apparently not. I expect, from the time you give it, the result will
bea literary classic."
"Don't you disturb me, Curly, or I'll never get done," implored thetortured ranger.
"You're doing well. You've only been an hour and a half on six lines,"the tormentor mocked.
Womanlike, she was quite at her ease, since he was very far indeed frombeing at his. Yet she had a problem of her own she was trying to decide.
Had he discovered, after all, that she was not a boy, and hadhis reasons--the ones he was trying to tell in that disturbingletter--anything to do with that discovery? Such a theory accountedfor several things she had noticed in him of late. There was an addedrespect in his manner for her. He never now invaded the room recognizedas hers without a specific invitation, nor did he seem any longer tochafe at the little personal marks of fastidiousness that had at firstappeared to annoy him. To be sure, he ordered her about, just as he hadbeen in the habit of doing at first. But it was conceivable that thismight be a generous blind to cover up his knowledge of her sex.
"How do you spell guessed--one s or two?" he presently asked, out of thethroes of composition.
She spelled it, and added demurely: "Adore has only one d"
Bucky laid down his pen and pretended to glare at him. "You youngrascal, what do you mean by bothering me like that? Act like that, youyoung imp, and you'll never grow up to be a gentleman."
Their glances caught and held, the minds of each of them busy over thatlast prediction of his. For one long instant masks were off and bothwere trying to find an answer to a question in the eyes opposite. Thenvoluntarily each gaze released the other in a confusion of sweet shame.For the beating of a lash, soul had looked into naked soul, all disguisestripped from them. She knew that he knew. Yet in that instant when hissecret was surprised from him another secret, sweeter than the morningsong of birds, sang its way into both their hearts.