Over the Border: A Novel

  XXV: LOVE AND BUSINESS

  In those days of raids and "requisitions," the customary oversight ofthe herds on the Chihuahua _haciendas_ had grown of necessity into asystem of patrols. At Los Arboles not a day passed without Gordon andthe Three describing a circle around the _hacienda_.

  Riding south after the others left, Bull had covered only a few milesbefore he spied a lone horseman topping a distant ridge. As the riderdrew near the first indefinite outlines resolved into the square, hardfigure of William Benson. Scarcely a week had passed without a visitfrom the Englishman. From the first he had accorded Bull the respect dueto his quiet strength. Later, this had developed into a real likingwhich showed in the smile that wiped out, for the moment, his nativeharshness.

  "Heard the news? The Carranzistas have given Valles a lovely trimming.He didn't stop running till he reached El Oro."

  Bull's black brows rose. "We'd allus allowed Valles could whip twice hisweight in Carranzistas. So long as they keep on killing one another off,we sh'd worry."

  Nodding, Benson went on. "Valles lost heavily in horses, and is lookingfor fresh mounts. One of his colonels came to my place yesterday andoffered me a thousand pesos apiece for all I have."

  "_Gold?_"

  Benson's big mouth split in a sardonic grin. "Valles money, amigo,beautifully printed on butcher paper. He must have used up all thenewspaper stocks in northern Mexico."

  "And you sold?"

  "I'd cut their throats first. It may come to that, but just now I see away--if not to pull even, at least to avoid complete loss. Between us wecan pretty nearly equip Valles with fresh mounts. The beggar hasgold--hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions, in the El Paso banks, andmy idea is for us, you representing Lee, to go down to El Oro and offerhim all that we have for a low price in gold on condition that he permitus to drive our other stock across the line. If he accepts, we then goout of business till order is restored."

  "Fine idea!" Bull added. "Could you let Mrs. Mills in on it? She wastelling last night she didn't know where to turn for living expenses."

  Benson heartily agreed. "Only too glad!"

  "And when do you start?"

  "To-morrow night. There's a freight going down."

  "All right. Pity you hadn't come earlier. Mrs. Mills left only a coupleof hours ago. But I'll ride over this afternoon, get her writtenauthority, then meet you at the railroad."

  Riding back to Los Arboles, they perfected their plans. They were,indeed, in sight of the buildings before Benson switched theconversation to Lee. Her oldest and stanchest friend, it was his rightto know, and Bull told all, from his plotting with the widow down to thedisastrous ending in the sudden engagement.

  "The little spitfire!" Benson grinned. "Hello! What's that?"

  It was Lee's horse galloping down a distant slope toward the _hacienda_.In that wild country a riderless beast generally bespoke tragedy.Without a word they galloped off in the direction from which the beasthad come; rode at top speed until Benson, who had gained a lead,suddenly reined in.

  A bunch of chaparral intervened, at first, between Bull and the objectat which the other was pointing. Then, rising in his stirrups, he sawLee and Gordon on the one horse; at least in Bull's sight it was ahorse. In that of the lovers, horses, plains, _haciendas_, and othercommonplaces of ordinary existence had vanished, leaving themunconscious of time and space, proceeding magically through theaforesaid illumined dream.

  Perhaps some touch of their feeling wirelessed across the interveningspace, for Benson's harshness melted, delight burst like sunlightthrough Bull's truculence.

  "That's too good to spoil," Benson whispered. "Let them go by."

  They had passed over the next ridge before Bull spoke. "I tol' you Mrs.Mills could do it. She's a right smart woman."

  "A fine woman!" Benson echoed. "I don't know what you are thinkingabout. Now if I were single----" He burst out laughing at Bull's blush.Instantly it was drowned in brighter scarlet. But this faded as Bullnoted the kindly twinkle in the other's eye. He shook his head indeprecation.

  "What c'd a nice woman do with a bear like me?"

  "That's her business. I'm not denying that it would some job." Bensoncritically surveyed Bull's great bulk. "But if there's anything in theworld a woman loves it is making a man over, like an old dress. Aftershe finishes, she generally realizes that she's spoiled the material andwishes him back as he was. But in the mean time she has had her fun.I'll bet Mary Mills is just itching to try her hand on you."

  "Do you really mean that?" Bull looked up with sudden hope--that quicklydied. He shook his big head. "She deserves something better. I'd onlyspoil her life."

  Nevertheless, he relapsed into deep thought, returning onlymonosyllables to Benson's talk. The little seed thus planted rooted deepin his silence.

  Strange is first love with its intense desire for purity! Cleanliness isnext to Godliness, and Godliness is Love. Thus Cleanliness must be nextof kin to Love.

  If this be doubted, observe a ten-year-old boy, self-convicted ofwater-marks on his neck and soil in his ears enough to grow potatoes.See him scrub himself with profuse use of soap till his countenanceshines so that it might serve as a mirror for the small charmer who hasensnared his budding affections with her bright curls. Watch him, later,a man grown, solicitous about his daily tub, careful of his raiment,choice in cravats! Later his wife shall drive him with revilings to hisbath! Coming to cases, observe Gordon in the bunk-house after a coolingshower, carefully arranging his tie on the bosom of a brand-new shirt.

  Now observe a girl, a vestal in purity, delicately perfumed, floweringin her ribands and laces like a pretty bud. At some time all of themearnestly desire that they had been born men. Yet one moment there iswhen they are unfeignedly glad to be women. So Lee, who was perhaps evena bit more boyish than the average, came to lunch in a soft white dresswith a flower at her throat, powdered and delicately perfumed, brighthair framing happy eyes, every soft line and fold proclaiming herwomanhood. Like an emanation, soft and effulgent as moonlit mist, thefullness of her content proceeded from her, wrapped her in a brightatmosphere in the midst of which she softly brooded. Not that she wassilent. She laughed and talked; seriously discussed Benson's schemes.But that was all of the surface. Behind the chatter she lived in theenchantment of her dream.

  It was too marked to pass unnoticed. But if Bull and Benson saw theclinging of glances, sensed the pulsing feeling, they observed with thefriendly indulgence of experience the young man's honest devotion, thegirl's shy happiness. During the long hour they sat talking after lunch,no silly jest marred its beauty. Except for a greater kindliness ofmanner, with delicacy quite foreign to his harsh exterior, Benson gaveno hint of his understanding up to the moment he rode away.

  Then for a brief moment Bull was taken into the dream. While Gordon wentfor his horse, Lee packed his saddlebags with clean things for thejourney, and was giving him the usual last critical inspection. As hestood smiling down on her, hugely pleased, her eyes rose from the tieshe was arranging to his; and as she read their sympathy andintelligence, she clasped his neck and hid her face against his broadbreast.

  Until the beat of hoofs at the _patio_ gate announced Gordon's return,he held her to him with one arm while the other hand gently patted hershoulder. Neither spoke. Words would have told less. When she withdrewand walked with him to the gate, she was soothed and comforted as anygirl that ever made a confidante of her mother.

  When she ran back after the quirt he had purposely left on the table, hehad time to pass a word to Gordon. "Remember, she don't leave this houseto go _anywhere_ alone!"

  Gordon nodded, and, satisfied, he rode away with Lee's last chargefloating after him, "Come home soon!"

  The words were still ringing in his ears, he still felt the firm, coolclasp on his neck, when he drew rein at the first rise and looked backat the _hacienda_. From one corner, where an _anciano_ had burned somerubbish, rose a lazy pennon of smoke, but the brown girls, women, andchildren who usually filled
the compound with restless life were in fullenjoyment of the noon _siesta_. Within its bright walls, the place dozedin the pleasant shade of its towering cottonwoods.

  Somehow the stillness recalled to Bull's mind the Spaniard's house hehad shown Gordon from the railroad--sacked, burned, its vacant windowsstaring like empty eyes over the desert. His face clouded. He moveduneasily in his saddle, but presently the golden peace that incited thememory worked its own remedy. Jake and Sliver and Gordon were there, andthe place was still far beyond the surge and swirl of the revolution.

  "And I'll be home again in less than a week," he encouraged himself.

  Home! It recalled again Lee's words. He felt her clasp, thrilled at thememory. He, "Bull" Perrin, the rustler! Around his neck that had been inconstant hazard of the halter for a dozen years, this fine, clean girlhad thrown her arms. His tender musing over the wonder would haveexcited the scorn of a city man, _blase_ and stale from the constantpresence and attentions of pretty women. But it was sincere. While herode on over the hills and plains, the thought warmed his heart,quickened the seed planted therein by Benson, freed his soul from thebonds of his great humility.

  "Of course it's damn foolish for you even to think of it," he chidhimself. Nevertheless, he did, slowly, heavily, taking stock with minuteexactness of his own demerits. How great they were none knew better. Therustling, of course, he had abandoned along with certain gross habits oflife. But the liquor? These periodical debauches? Was he strong enoughto conquer them?

  "If I c'd only ride into a town an' either leave it alone or take aman's fair allowance," he mused. "But kin I? Mebbe with a fine littlewoman like that to help me." But the next instant he shook his head."An' have her take the chance? No, no, hombre, you're crazy. You put allthat behind you by your own act years ago."

  Yet this conclusion did not end the argument. When, at sundown, he drewrein at the accustomed spot and looked down on the _rancho_ buildingsnow dyed a flaming apricot he took his breath deeply. With itsbougainvillea draping walls and porches in rich purple clusters, itspretty _patio_ and outside kitchen garden, it was just such a home aswould fit the dreams of a common man. Instantly his mind filled in thepicture, the man and woman sitting after supper on the veranda, he withhis pipe and paper, a child on his knee, she with her sewing. A thousandintimacies were supplied by his lonely, hungry soul, and when thepicture stood complete he burst out with a great resolve.

  "By God, I'll do it! You're a-going to walk like a man into town an'come out without teching a drop!"

  From where he was sitting he usually could see--either Betty at play onthe veranda, her mother moving in and out, or Terrubio moving around thestables. To-night silence wrapped the place. From the west, as on thesouth where he sat, the land fell rapidly toward the _rancho_, and as herode forward, puzzled, the silence was explained. Over the western ridgethe widow, Terrubio, and Betty came riding, and reached the house justas he rode up.

  "Though we brought bad news to his son," she explained the delay, "theold Icarza would not permit us to leave till we had broken his bread.How did Ramon take it? Just as I said he would--out came the Mex in inall of its nasty selfishness, blind conceit. She was promised to him andhe would hold her to it! He'd kill any one who interfered. Goodness! younever _saw_ such fireworks! He showed no trace of the real pride thatwould have kept one of our boys from showing his hurt; and still lessconsideration for Lee. It was"--she gave a little sniff ofdisgust--"just sickening. I was almost sorry she couldn't have beenthere, for it would have effectually cured her remorse. But she'll getit to-morrow, for he's going over to plead his own cause."

  Unease swept Bull's dark visage. After a brief statement of his missionhe voiced his apprehension. "But if he's coming to-morrow, I don't knowbut I orter go back."

  "Nonsense!" Mrs. Mills pooh-poohed the idea. "It's all fireworks--andthere's Sliver and Gordon and Jake."

  To which Betty added a direct command. "You are just going to stay here.We haven't seen you for ever so long, and mama is just dying to tell youher troubles."

  "Tea and trouble," the widow laughed. "A genuine woman's party."

  When he lifted and placed her with one swing on the veranda she allowedone hand to remain on his shoulder, and he was not so ignorant of womannature as not to recognize the liking behind the action. While shebustled around, adding dainties to the meal Terrubio's woman had ready,he watched her with an expression that she, on her part, could not failto interpret. And whereas, on previous visits, she had managed all kindsof accidental contacts, watched with mischievous delight for the effect,she was now filled with pleasurable confusion that manifested itself inan almost girlish shyness.

  When, afterward, they moved out upon the veranda, Bull's dream of anhour ago was almost fulfilled. For Betty snuggled as usual in his arms,while the widow busied herself with a bit of sewing--a fine excuse thatlent itself to the lowering of eyes, permitted stealthy glances.

  While they were at supper, the sun had slid down to the western horizon.Pools of deep indigo now filled the hollows. Above them the plains ran,a deep violet sea broken with apricot foam where the crests of the greatearth waves rolled high, ran off and away around the bases of gold andcrimson mountains.

  It was unearthly in its beauty, and while they could not have put theirfeeling in words, it filled both with that sense of vastness beforewhich man in his littleness quails. Often the widow paused in hersewing, and as Bull saw that infinite loneliness reflected in her face,the big, simple soul of him melted with love and pity. Till the lightsfaded and she no longer needed its excuse, she alternately sewed andgazed; then when warm gloaming settled over all, wiped out theloneliness with its friendly gloom, she recovered her voice.

  "Oh, I had almost forgotten."

  It was that which she had seen in the morning--to wit, Gordon snatchingLee out of her saddle.

  "And oh, isn't it nice to think that she'll be settled, at last, withthat fine boy!"

  Happy in the conclusion, she began to sketch a picture of them settledhappily at Los Arboles. Her voice, as she ran on, took a little quiverthat powerfully expressed her own loneliness, inspired in Bull anintense desire to seize and squeeze it out. Instead his arms tightenedaround the child.

  "Not one marriage in a hundred turns out what it might be. But with theexception, when respect, friendliness, affection, and a sense of dutyare reinforced by love--well, it's the nearest to heaven that poorhumans ever gain." She added, with a sigh: "Excepting that it gave methis child, my own wasn't all that it might have been. She's been a joyand comfort, but--in a few years more she'll be marrying, herself. ThenI'll be again alone."

  "Why did _you_ never marry?" Betty's small, soft voice stole out on thedarkness from the depths of Bull's embrace.

  The stock excuses rose to his lips--but did not pass, for through thefriendly gloaming he was aware of a rustle. His face turned toward it.

  "I never felt myself fit."

  "Why, that's just nonsense!" Betty indignantly declared. "Any woman thatwasn't a downright fool would be glad to have you. I know one that wouldgive her best shoes--"

  "Betty!"

  But the small rebel ran on, "Well, she would--even if I can't tell youher name."

  Once more Bull faced a stir in the darkness. "I've led a hard, rough,bad life. No decent woman would ever want me."

  Now he saw the dim whiteness of her face turning to him. Her quiet voicetook up the argument. "It's a thin, pinched nature that's always good. Abig, strong one is liable to be led astray by its own force beforewisdom comes to teach and chasten. In the long run I don't know but thatit gains by it in charity and loving-kindness. Wickedness of the fleshdoesn't count so much as wickedness of the heart; the inward vilenessthat rots and corrupts; and I've seen as much of that in the churches asamong downright sinners." She concluded with the very words that Gordonhad used with Lee. "It isn't what you _were_, but what you _are_ thatcounts."

  From a second warm silence issued Bull's vibrant rumble. "You think aman that has lived h
ard has a right to speak, to a good woman--providinghe's put it all behind him?"

  Low, but confident and firm, her answer thrilled through the gloaming."I do, and--she'd _love_ to help him."

  Almost without his volition, Bull's huge paw stole out. He half hopedshe wouldn't see it. He had begun to withdraw it when, like a dim whitedove, her hand came fluttering and nested in his.

  Every life has its golden hour. That was Bull's, and, like a pearlshining in the mire, it stood out from the blackness of his past life.Though neither spoke, the peace and quiet, surety of perfectunderstanding, settled upon them. When, presently, Betty resumed herchatter, they listened or joined in. After she fell asleep they relapsedagain into happy silence; just sat like a shy boy and girl, hand inhand, till she rose and carried the child off to her bed.

  To meet her, next morning, was to Bull something of an ordeal, but herquiet smile restored at once the perfect understanding. Her sense ofproprietorship showed in the way she fussed over his coffee and eggs,berated him for his lack of appetite. Her final inspection before heleft could not have been outdone in severity by Lee herself. But nothingwas said. She knew that he would speak in his own good time.

  Except that her hand clung a little in parting, it differed little fromtheir usual. "I shall look for you when you return." Her call after himreiterated ownership.

  His answer confirmed it. "I shall come here, ma'am, straight from thestation."

  Indeed, the real parting came when, reining in at fifty yards, he lookedback over his shoulder. With both hands on Betty's shoulders, slightlydejected, yet with her honest, level gaze sending out trust and hope,she stood watching him go, as the race of wives and mothers have stoodthroughout the generations. And just as, throughout time, the sight of awoman's trust and child's faith have urged real men on to big deeds, sothe sight of them set the ex-rustler's heart swelling within him. As,with a last wave of the hand, he turned again and rode on, the spiritwithin him equaled in love and reverence that of an ancientknight-errant starting out in pursuit of the Holy Grail.