CHAPTER XXIV
FOR LOVE AND A MEDAL
Down the roped lane thundered Jose, whirling his riata over his headtill the loop had taken full twenty of the sixty feet of rawhide.
Galloping to meet him, Jack gave his rope a forward, downward fling andformed a little loop--a loop not one-third the size of Jose's--and heldit dangling beside Surry's shoulder. So, at the very start, they showedthemselves different in method, even though they might be the same inskill.
They met, with fifteen feet between them as they flashed past. Joseflung out his lifted hand. The loop hissed and shot straight for Jack'shead.
Jack flung out his little loop, struck the big one fairly, and threw itaside. Even so, the end might have caught him, but for the lengtheninglunge which Surry made in mid-air. The loop flecked Surry's crinkledtail and he fled on to the far end and stopped in two short,stiff-legged jumps.
As Jack coiled his riata and slid off he heard the caballeros yellingpraise of Jose. But he did not mind that in the least. In that one throwhe had learned Jose's method; the big loop, the overhead swirl--direct,bullet-swift, deadly in its aim. He knew now what Dade had wanted totell him--what it was vital that he should know. And--he hugged thethought--Jose did not know his method; not yet.
A shot, and he was off again with his little loop. Jose, like a great,black bird, flew towards him with the big loop. As they neared he sawJose's teeth show in the smile of hate. He waited, his little loop readyfor the fling should his chance come.
Jose was over-eager. The great, rawhide hoop whistled and shot downaslant like the swoop of a nighthawk. Surry's eye was upon itunwinkingly. He saw where the next leap would bring him within itsterrible grip, and he made that leap to one side instead, so that therawhide thudded into the dust alongside his nose. He swerved again lestJose in jerking it up should catch his feet, and went on with anexultant toss of his white head. It was the game he knew--the game Diegohad played with him many times, to the discomfiture of the peon.
"He is a devil--that white caballo!" cried a chagrined voice from amongthe vaqueros crowding the ropes so that they bulged inward.
"Hah! devil or no, they will go down, those two white ones! Saw you thelook of Jose as he passed? He has been playing with them for the sportof the people. Look you! I have gold on that third throw. The nexttime--it is as Jose chooses--"
The bark of the pistol cut short the boastings of that vaquero. This wasthe third pass, and much Spanish gold would be lost upon that throw ifJose missed.
"Three to one, m' son," bawled Bill Wilson remindingly, as Jack lopedpast with his little loop hanging beside him, ready but scarcely seemingso. Jose was coming swiftly, the big horse lunging against the Spanishbit, his knees flung high with every jump he made, like a deer leapingthrough brush. And there was the great, rawhide loop singing itsbattle-song over his head, with the soft _who-oo-oo_ before he releasedit for the flight.
He aimed true--but Surry had also a nice eye for distance. He did notswerve; he simply stiffened every muscle and stopped short. Even as hedid so the black horse plunged past; and Jack, lifting his hand, whirledhis loop swiftly once to open it, and gave it a backward fling.
Straight past his shoulder it shot, whimpering, following, reaching--theforce of the fling carrying it far, far ... Jose heard it whining behindhim, glanced quickly, thought to beat it to the end of its leash. Heleaned far over--farther, so that his cheek touched the flying blackmane of his horse. He dug deep with his spurs--but he dug too late.
The little loop narrowed--it had reached as far as sixty feet of rawhidecould reach and have any loop at all. It sank, and caught the outflunghead of the black horse; slid back swiftly and caught Jose as the horselunged and swung short around; tightened and pressed Jose's cheek hardagainst the black mane as the rawhide drew tight across the back of hisneck.
The black horse plunged and tried to back away; the white one stiffenedagainst the pull of the rope. Between the two of them, they came nearfinishing Jose once for all. And from the side where stood the white mencame the vicious sound of a pistol shot.
"Slack, Surry!" Jack, on the ground, glimpsed the purpling face of hisfoe. "Slack, you devil!"
Near sixty feet he had to run--and Jose was strangling before his eyes;strangling, because Surry's instant obedience was offset by Jose'shorse, who, facing the other at the first jerk of the riata, backedinvoluntarily with the pull of the pinioned reins. The Spanish bit wascutting his mouth cruelly, and Jose's frenzied clawing could not easethe cruel strain upon either of them.
A few terrible seconds, and then Jack overtook them, eaught the horseby the bridle, and stopped him; and the blood which the cruel bit hadbrought when the spade cut deep, stained Jack's white clothes red whereit fell.
"Slack, Surry! Come on!" he cried, his voice harsh with the stress ofthat moment. And when the rawhide hung loose between the two horses hefreed Jose of the deadly noose, and saw where it had burnt raw the skinof his neck on the side where it touched. A snaky, six-strand riata canbe a rather terrible weapon, he decided, while he loosed it and flung itfrom him.
Jose, for the first time getting breath enough to gasp, tried tostraighten himself in the saddle; lurched, and would have gone off onhis head if Jack had not put up a hand to steady him. So he led him, ashaken, gasping, disarmed antagonist, across the little space thatseparated them from where Don Andres and four other Spanish gentlemensat before the middle gate of the corral.
"Bravo!" cried a sweet, girl voice; and a rose, blood-red and heavy withperfume, fell at Jack's feet. He gave it one cold glance and let it lie.In another moment the black horse crushed it heedlessly beneath hishoof, as Jack turned to the judges.
"Senors, I bring you Don Jose Pacheco."
So suddenly had the contest ended that those riders who helped to formthe riata fence stood still in their places, as if another round had yetto be fought. Beyond the pistol shot and the girl voice crying welldone, the audience was quiet, waiting.
Then Jose, sitting spent upon his horse, lifted a hand that shookweakly. His fingers fumbled at his breast, and he held out the shiningmedal of gold--the medal with diamonds prisoning the sunlight so thatthe trinket flashed in his hand.
"Senor," he said huskily, "the medalla--it is yours."
Jack looked at him; looked at the bent faces of the frowning judges;looked up at Teresita, watching the two with red lips parted and breathcoming quickly; looked again queerly at Jose, gasping still, and holdingout to him the medalla oro. Jack did a good deal of thinking in a veryshort space of time.
"I don't want your medal," he said. "Let some Californian fight you forit, if he likes. That is not for a gringo."
Perhaps there was a shade of the theatrical element in his speech andhis manner, but he was perfectly innocent of any such intention; and thepeople before him were nothing if not dramatic. He got his response inthe bravos and the applause that followed the silence of sheeramazement. "Gracias!" they cried, in their impulsive appreciation of hisgenerosity.
"The horse which you offered for a prize, Don Andres, I will claim,"Jack went on, when he could be heard--and he did not wait long, forshort-lived indeed is the applause given to an alien. "And I will ridehim as soon as you desire."
"Yes! Let us see him ride that caballo!" cried the fickle mass ofhumanity. "By a trick of chance he won the duelo, and the medalla herefused because he knows it was not won fairly. Where is that yellowcaballo which no man has ridden? Let him show us what he can do withthat yellow one!"
Dade, pushing his way exultantly toward him, saw the blaze of anger attheir fickleness leap into Jack's eyes.
"Si, I will show you!" he called out. "It is well that you should seesome horsemanship! Bring the yellow caballo, then. Truly, I will showyou what I can do."
"Come, Surry," called Dade, and the white horse walked up to him andnibbled playfully his bearskin chaparejos. "Solano's in the littlecorral, off this big one. I'll bring your saddle--"
"I don't want any saddle. I'm going to r
ide him bareback, with a ropeover his nose. Let me have your spurs, will you? Did you hear them sayI won the duel with luck? I'll show these greasers what a gringo can do!"He spoke in Spanish, to show his contempt of their opinion of him, andhe curled his lip at the jibes they began to fling down at him; thejibes and the taunts--and vague threats as well, when those who hadwagered much upon the duelo began to reckon mentally their losings.
In the adobe corral he stood with his riata coiled in his hand andDade's spurs upon his heels, and waited until Solano, with a fling ofheels into the air, rushed in from the pen where the big bull had waiteduntil he was let out to fight the grizzly.
"Bareback he says he will ride that son of Satanas!" jeered awine-roughened voice. "Boaster that he is, look you how he stands! He isafraid even to lasso that yellow one!"
Jack was indeed deliberate in his movements. He stood still while thehorse circled him twice with head and tail held high. When Solanobrought up with a flourish on the far side of the corral, Jack turned toDade and Valencia standing guard at the main gate, their horses barringthe opening.
"See that it's kept clear out in front," he told them. "I'll come outa-flying when I do come, most likely."
Whereat those who heard him laughed derisively. "Never to the gate willyou ride him, gringo--even so you touch his back! Not twice will thedevil give you luck," they yelled, while they scrambled for the choicestpositions.
Jack, standing in the center quietly, smiled at them, and gave the flipdownward and forward that formed the little loop to which he seemed sopartial. He tossed that loop upward, straight over his head; a carelesslittle toss, it looked to those who watched. His hand began to rotateupon his supple wrist joint--and like a live corkscrew the rawhide loopwent up, and up, and up, and grew larger while it climbed.
Solano snorted; and the noise was like a gun in the dead silence whilethose thousands watched this miracle of a rawhide riata that apparentlyclimbed of its own accord into the air.
The loop, a good ten feet in diameter, swirled horizontally over hishead. The coil in his hand was paid out until there was barely enough togive him power over the rest. His hand gave a quick motion sidewise, andthe loop dropped true, and settled over the head of Solano.
Jack flung a foot backward and braced himself for the pull, the riatadrawn across one thigh in the "hip-hold" which cowboys use to-day whenthey rope from the ground. Solano gave one frightened lunge and broughtup trembling with surprise.
That he knew nothing of the feel of a rope worked now to Jack'sadvantage, for sheer astonishment held the horse quiet. A flip, and theriata curled in a half-hitch over Solano's nose; and Jack was edgingslowly towards him, his hands moving along the taut riata like a sailorclimbing a rope.
Solano backed, shook his head futilely, snorted, and rolled hiseyes--mere frills of resentment that formed no real opposition to Jack'spurpose. Five minutes of maneuvering to get close, and Jack had twistedhis fingers in the taffy-colored mane; he went up, and landed fairly inthe middle of Solano's rounded back and began swiftly coiling thetrailing riata.
"Get outa the way, there!" he yelled, and raked the big spurs backwardwhen Solano's forefeet struck the ground after going high in air. Like abullet they went out of that corral and across the open space where theduel had been fought, with Dade and Valencia spurring desperately after.
It took a long ten minutes to bring Solano back, chafing, but owningJack's mastery--for the time being, at least. He returned to a sullenaudience, save where the Americans cheered him from their side of thecorral.
"He is a devil--that blue-eyed one!" the natives were saying grudginglyto one another; but they were stubborn and would not cheer. "Saw youever a riata thrown as he threw it? Not Jose Pacheco himself ever did soimpossible a thing; truly the devil is in that gringo." So they mutteredamongst themselves when he came back to the corral and slipped,laughing, from Solano's sweat-roughened back.
"You can have your Surry!" he cried boastfully to Dade, who was thefirst to reach him. "Give me a month to school him, and this yellowhorse will be mighty near as good as your white one. I'd rather have himthan forty gold medals!"
"Senor,"--it was Jose, his neck wrapped in a white handkerchief, comingforward from where he had sat with Don Andres--"Senor, I am sorry that Idid not kill you; but yet I admire your skill, and I wish to thank youfor your generosity; the medalla is not mine, even though you refuse it.Since I have found one better than I, Don Andres shall keep the medallauntil I or some other caballero has won it fairly. For my life, whichyou also refused to take, I--cannot thank you."
Jack looked at him intently. "You will thank me," he said grimly, "lateron."
Jose's face went white. "Senor, you do not mean--"
"I do mean--just that."
"But, Senor--" There are times when pride drops away from the proudestman and leaves him weak to the very core of him; weak and humbled beyondwords.
Big Jerry Simpson saved that situation from becoming intolerable. WithMoll's great ears flopping solemnly to herald his approach, Jerry rodeup, perfectly aware that he brought a murmur of curiosity from those whosaw his coming.
For Jerry was leading Manuel by the ear; Manuel with his hands tiedbehind him with Jerry's red bandanna; Manuel with his lips drawn awayfrom his teeth in the desire to kill, and his eyes sullen with theimpotence of that desire.
"Sa-ay," drawled Jerry, when he came up to the little group, "what d'yewant done with this here greaser that fired on Jack? Some of the fellersover there wanted to take him out and hang him, but I kinda hated todraw attention away from Jack's p'formance--which was right interesting.Bill Wilson, he reckoned I better fetch him over here and ask youfellers about it; Bill says this mob of greasers might make a fuss ifthe agony's piled on too thick, but whatever you say will be did." Withhis unoccupied hand he helped himself to a generous chew of tobacco, andspat gravely into the dust.
"Fer as I'm concerned," he drawled lazily, "I'm willin' to help stringhim up. He done as dirty a trick as ever I seen, and he done itdeliberate. I had m' eye peeled fer him all the time, and I seen hewasn't goin' to stand back and let Jack git the best of that greaser ifhe could help it. He was cunnin'--but shucks! I see all along why hekept that gun p'inted out front--"
"Turn him loose," said Dade suddenly, interrupting him. "We don't wantto start any trouble, Jerry. He may need hanging, but we can't afford togive him what he deserves. It's a ticklish crowd, right now; they'velost a lot on the duel, and they've drunk enough wine to swim a mule.Turn him loose. I mean it," he added, when he caught the incipientrebellion in Jerry's weather-beaten face. "I'm bossing things hereto-day. He didn't hit anybody, and I'm beginning to think we can getthrough the day without any real trouble, if we go easy."
"Wa-al--" Jerry scratched his stubbly jaw reflectively with his freehand, and looked down at his captive. "I'll give him a derned goodwallopin', then, just to learn him manners. I've been wantin' to lickhim since yesterday mornin' when he tried to drive off Bawley andLay-fayette and William Penn. I lost two hours off'n my work, argyin'with him. I'll take that outa his hide, right now."
He induced Moll to turn around, and led Manuel away from the presenceof the women lest they should be shocked at his deed; and on the coolside of the farthest shed he did indeed give Manuel a "derned goodwalloping." After which he took a fresh chew of tobacco, lounged over towhere Moll waited and switched desultorily at the flies, mounted, andwent placidly home to his Mary.
* * * * *
Bill Wilson, having collected their winnings and his own, sought Dadeand Jack, where they were lying under the shade of a sycamore justbeyond the rim of the crowd chattering shrilly of the later events. Witha grunt of relief to be rid of the buzzing, Bill flung himself downbeside them and plucked a cigar from an inner pocket.
"Say," he began, after he had bitten off the end of the cigar and hadmoistened the whole with his tongue. "Them greasers sure do hate to comeforward with their losings! Some bets I never will be able to coll
ect;but I got a lot--enough to pay for the trouble of coming down." Herolled over upon his back and lay smoking and looking up into themottled branches of the tree; thought of something, and lifted himselfto an elbow so that he faced Jack.
"Sa-ay, I thought you said you was going to kill that greaser," hechallenged quizzically.
Jack shrugged his shoulders, took two long draws on his cigarette, andblew one of his pet smoke-rings. "I did." He moistened his lips and blewanother ring. "At least, I killed the biggest part of him--and that'shis pride."
Bill grunted, lay down again, and stared up at the wide-pronged sycamoreleaves. "Darn my oldest sister's cat's eyes if I ever seen anything likeit!" he exploded suddenly, and closed his eyes in a vast content.
From the barbecue pits there came an appetizing odor of roasting beef;high-keyed voices flung good-humored taunts, and once they heard a greatshout of laughter surge through the crowd gathered there. From the greatplatform built under a group of live oaks near the patio they heard theresonant plunk-plunk-plunk of a harp making ready for the dance, and theshrill laughter of slim senoritas hovering there. Down the slope beforethe three the shadows stretched longer and longer. A violin twanged inthe tuning, the harp-strings crooning the key.
"You fellows are going to dance, ain't yuh?" Bill inquired lazily, whenhis cigar was half gone to ashes and smoke. "Jack, here, can getpardners enough to keep him going fer a week--judging by the eyes themSpanish girls have been making at him since the duel and thehorse-breaking.
"Say! How about that sassy-eyed Picardo girl? I ain't seen you and herin speaking distance all day; and the way you was buzzing around herwhen I was down here before--"
"Say, Jack," Dade interrupted, diplomacy winning against politeness, "Inever dreamed you'd have the nerve to try that fancy corkscrew throw ofyours before all that crowd. Why, after two years to get out ofpractice, you took an awful chance of making a fool of yourself! Y'see,Bill," he explained with a deliberate garrulity, "that throw he madewhen he caught the horse was the finest bit of rope-work that's beendone to-day. I don't believe there's another man in the crowd that coulddo it; and the chances are they never saw it done before, even! I know Inever saw but one man beside Jack that could do it. Jack was always atit, when we happened to be laying around with nothing to do, and I knowhe had to keep his hand in, or he'd make a fizzle of it. Of course," heconceded, "you didn't miss--but if you had--Wow!" He shook his head atthe bare possibility.
Jack grinned at him. "I'm not saying how much moonlight I used up,practicing out in the orchard when everybody else was asleep. I reckonI've made that corkscrew five thousand times in the last three weeks!"
"Where you belong," bantered Dade, "is on the stage. You do love tocreate a sensation, better than any one I ever--"
"Senors--" Diego came hurriedly out of the shadows behind them. "Thepatron begs that you will honor his table by dining with him to-night.In one little half-hour will he hope to see you; and Don Jose Pachecowill also be happy to meet the senors, if it is the pleasure of thesenors to meet him and dine in his company. The patron," added Diego,with the faintest suspicion of a twinkle in his pensive black eyes,"desires also that I shall extend to you the deep regret of the senoraand the senorita because it will be impossible for them to be present."
The three looked at one another, and in Bill's eyes dawned slowly thelight of understanding.
"Tell the patron we are honored by the invitation, and that it gives usmuch pleasure to accept," Dade replied for the three of them, after amoment spent in swift, mental measuring of the situation. "Jack, you'vegot to get them bloody clothes off, and some decent ones on. Come on,Bill; half an hour ain't any too much time to get ready in."
Half-way to the house they walked without saying a word. Then Dade,walking between the two, suddenly clapped a hand down upon the shoulderof each.
"Say, I could holler my head off!" he exulted. "I'm going to quitworrying about anything, after this; the nights I've laid awake andworried myself purple over this darned fiesta--or the duel, rather! Andthings are turning out smooth as a man could ask.
"Jack, I'm proud to death of you, and that's a fact. With that temper ofyours, I kinda looked for you to get this whole outfit down on you; butthe way you acted, I don't believe there's a man here, except Manuel,that's got any real grudge against you, even if they did lose a lot ofmoney on the fight. And it's all the way you behaved, old boy--like aprince! Just--like a--blamed prince!"
"Oh, I don't know--Jose acted pretty white, himself. You've got to admitthat it's Jose that took the fight out of the crowd. I'm glad--" He didnot finish the sentence, and they were considerate enough not to insistthat he should.
* * * * *
Warm sunlight, and bonfires fallen to cheerless, charred embers andashes gone gray; warm sunlight, and eyes grown heavy with the wearinessof surfeited pleasure. Bullock carts creaked again, their squealinggrowing gradually fainter as the fat-jowled senoras lurched home to themonotony of life, while the senoritas drowsed and dreamed, and smiled intheir dreaming.
At the corrals, red-lidded caballeros cursed irritably the horses theysaddled. In the patio Don Andres gave dignified adieu to the guests thatstill lingered. The harp was shrouded and dumb upon the platform, theoaken floor polished and dark with the night-long slide of slipperedfeet. The fiesta was slipping out of the present into the past, where itwould live still under the rose-lights of memory.
There was a scurry of little feet in the rose-garden. A door slammedsomewhere and hushed the sound of sobbing. A senorita--a young andlovely senorita who had all her life been given her way--fled to herroom in a great rage, because for once her smiles had not thawed the icewhich her anger had frozen.
The senorita flung something upon the floor and trampled it with herlittle slipper-heels; a rose, blood-red and withered, yet heavy withperfume still; a rose, twin to the one upon which the black horse ofJose had set his foot in the arena. A note she tore in little bits, withfingers that tingled still from the slap she had given to Diego, who hadbrought it. She flung the fragments from her, and the writing was fineand feminine in every curve--her own, if you wish to know; the note shehad sent, twenty-four hours before, to her blue-eyed one whom she haddecided to forgive.
"Santa Maria!" she gasped, and gritted her teeth afterwards. "This,then, is what he meant--that insolent one! 'After the fiesta will Isend the answer'--so he told that simpering maid who took my letter andthe rose. And the answer, then, is my rose and my letter returned, andno word else. Madre de Dios! That he should flout me thus! Now will Itell Jose to kill him--and kill him quickly. For that blue-eyed gringo Ihate!" Then she flung herself across her bed and wept.
Let the tender-hearted be reassured. The senorita slid from sobbing intoslumber, and her dreams were pleasant, so that she woke smiling. Thatnight she sang a love-song to Jose, behind the passion vines; and hereyes were soft; and when young Don Jose pulled her fingers from theguitar strings and kissed them many times, her only rebuke was such apursing of lips that they were kissed also for their mutiny.
After awhile the senorita sang again, while Jose, his neck held a littleto one side because of his hurt, watched her worshipfully, and forgothow much he had suffered because of her. She was seventeen, you see, andshe was lovely to look upon; and as for a heart--perhaps she woulddevelop one later.