CHAPTER XIII
CONCERNING WOMAN'S WILES AND WITCHERY
When Jim woke next morning his first act was to try doors and window.All were as he had left them last night. But since he was not the manfor worry before breakfast he went into his tub singing. When he hadsplashed refreshingly in the cool water and thereafter had dressed,breakfast was ready for him. For, while he was in his own room heheard the door to the room Barlow had slept in the first night open.And when he went through the bath to see who was there he saw a trayspread on a little table by a window, the coffee steaming. No one wasthere. He tried the outer door which led to the hall. Locked, ofcourse. So he sat down and uncovered the hot dishes and made a heartymeal.
"They've certainly got the big bulge on the situation," he conceded."They could starve a man, poison his rolls or bore a bullet into himwhile he slept, and who outside to know about it?"
Now he had the run of four rooms and could look out into the gardens.Not so bad, he consoled himself. He had his smoke and sat back in hischair, assuring himself that there were advantages in being shut off byhimself where he could take time to shape his plans. But as an hourpassed in silence--not a sound from any part of the big house all ofwhose inmates might have been asleep or dead--and another hour draggedby after it, he grew first impatient and then angry. He had found thatall of his planning could be done in five minutes: It resolved itselfdown to a decision to have a talk with Barlow and then, with or withouthelp from Ruiz Rios, to make a bolt for the open. If Bruce and Barlowwould come to their senses and join him, it would all be so simple.Three able-bodied, determined Americans against a handful of Zoraida'shirelings.
The time came when Jim thundered at the doors and called. When onlysilence followed his echoing voice he hammered at the hardwood doorswith the butt of his revolver and shouted, demanding to be a let out.He tried the iron gratings over the windows and found them firm intheir places and too heavy-barred to be bent. In the end he gave overin high disgust and waited.
Toward noon, while he was in his own room, pacing restlessly up anddown, he heard a door slam. He ran to the bathroom and found that thedoor leading to Barlow's former quarters was closed and locked.Someone was moving about just beyond the thick panel. He heard thehomely sound of dishes on a tray and waited, his hand on the doorknob,meaning to push his way forward once the door was opened. But he heardno other sound, though he waited minute after minute until perhaps halfan hour had dragged by. Then he sat on the edge of the tub, grownstubborn, determined not to budge. And so another half hour passed.
An hour was a long time for Jim Kendric to sit or stand still and atthe end of it he began pacing up and down again; at first just in thenarrow confines of the bath, presently soft-footedly upon the softcarpet of his room. And no sooner had he stepped a dozen paces fromthe bathroom door than he heard a bolt shot back. He raced to the doorthat had so long baffled him and threw it open. As he did so he heardthe outer hall door slam shut. When he laid hasty hands on it it wasbarred again.
"Well, there's food, anyway," he muttered. And sat down.
Half way through his meal a thought struck him which gave little zestto the rest of his food. He had walked silently when he left his post;no one waiting in the room where the tray was could have heard him, hefelt sure. Then how did that person know the instant he stepped away?He could not have been spied on through the keyhole of the door sinceno keyhole was there; the fastening on the other side was simply thatof primitive bar. But that he had been spied on he was confident.Well, why not? The house was old and no doubt had known no end ofintrigue in its time. The walls were thick enough for passagewayswithin them; an eye might be upon him all the time. He did not relishthe thought but refused to grow fanciful over it.
The afternoon he spent stoically accepting his condition. As he put itto himself, the other fellow had the large, lovely bulge on thesituation. For the most part of the sultry afternoon he sat inshirt-sleeved discomfort at his open window, staring out into the emptygardens and wondering what the other dwellers of the old adobe housewere doing. Where were Bruce and Barlow and what lies was Zoraidatelling them? And where was Betty? He did not realize that hiswandering thoughts came back to Betty more often than to either of hisfriends whom he had known so many years. But realization was forcedupon him that, despite all he had told both Zoraida and Ruiz Rios, hedid feel a very sincere interest in her. When repeatedly vague fearson Betty's account disturbed him he told himself not to be a fool andsought to dismiss them for good. What though Zoraida had indulged inwild talk? At least she was a woman and though she held Betty forransom would be woman enough to hold her in safety. And yet his fearssurged back, stronger each time, and he would have given a good deal toknow just where and how Betty was spending the long hours of thisinterminable day.
Finally came dusk, time of the first stars in the sky and lighted lampsin men's houses. And, bringing him infinite relief, a tap at his doorand the gentle voice of Rosita saying:
"La Senorita invites Senor Kendric, if he has rested sufficiently, tojoin her and her other guests at table."
He followed the little maid to the great dim dining-room.Purple-shaded lamps created an atmosphere which impressed him as alittle weird; the long table was set forth elaborately with much richsilver and sparkling glass; several men servants stood ready to placechairs and serve; there were rare white flowers in tall vases, lookinga bluish-white under the lamps. As Kendric came to the threshold widedouble doors across the room opened and Zoraida's other "guests"entered. They were Bruce, stiff and uncomfortable, seeming to be doinghis best to unbend toward Betty; Betty herself, flushed and excited;Barlow, morose because of the arm he wore in a sling or because of aday not passed to his liking; and Ruiz Rios, suave and immaculate inwhite flannels.
When they were all in the room a constraint like a tangible inhibitionagainst any natural spontaneity fell over them. Kendric read inBarlow's look no joy at the sight of him but only a sullen brooding;Betty flashed one look at him in which was nothing of last night'sfriendliness but an aloofness which might have been compounded of scornand distrust; Bruce appeared not to notice him.
"Oh, well," was Kendric's inward comment. "The devil take the lot ofthem."
Zoraida did not keep them waiting. One of the servants, as though hehad had some signal, threw open still another door and Zoraida, asplendid, vivid and vital Zoraida, burst upon their sight. She wasgowned as though she had on the instant stepped from a fashionableParis salon. And as though, on her swift way hither, she had stoppedonly an instant in some barbaric king's treasure house to snatch up andbedeck herself with his most resplendent jewels. Her arms were baresave for scintillating stones set in broad gold bands; long pendants,that seemed to live and breathe with their throbbing rubies, trembledfrom the tiny lobes of her shell-pink ears. Her throat was bare, hergown so daringly low cut at breast and back that Betty stared andflushed and turned away from the sight of her.
At her best was Zoraida tonight. Life stood high in her blood; zestshone like a bright fire in her eyes. A moment she poised, looking thequeen which she meant to become, which already in her heart she feltherself. The inclination of her head as she greeted them, thegraciousness which the moment drew from her, were regal.
Even the heavy arm-chair at the head of the table had the look of athrone. Two men drew it back for her, moved it into place when she wasseated. Then she looked to her guests, smiled and nodded and insilence each accepted the place given him. Thus Jim Kendric sat at theother end of the table in a chair like Zoraida's. At his right wasBetty who, since she averted her face from both him and Zoraida, kepther eyes on her plate. At his left was Ruiz Rios. To right and leftof Zoraida sat Bruce and Barlow.
"I am afraid," said Zoraida lightly, embracing them all with her quicksmile, "that I have seemed to lack in courtesy to my friends today!But here, _amigos_, when you come to know our land of the sun, you willunderstand that the long hot days are for rest and solitu
de in shadyplaces while it is during the nights that one lives." A goblet of wineas yellow as butter stood at her hand having just been poured from anancient misshapen earthen bottle. She lifted it and held it while theother glasses were filled. "I drink with you, my friends, to manygolden nights!"
She scarcely more than touched the yellow wine with her lips and lookedto the others. Barlow, still surly, tossed off his drink at a gulp.Bruce drank slowly, a little, and set his glass down. Betty did notlift her eyes and kept her hands in her lap. Ruiz tasted eagerly andhis eyes sparkled and widened. Kendric mechanically set his glass tohis lips, drank sparingly and marveled. For never had he tastedvintage like this. Its fragrance in his nostrils rose with strangepleasant sensation to his brain; a drop on his palate seemed to passdirectly into his blood and electrically thrill throughout his wholebody. The draft was like a magic brew; potent and seductive it soothedand at the same time set a delicious unrest in the blood, like thatvaguely stirring unrest of youth in springtime.
Barlow, the sullen, alone had drunk deeply. And in a flash Barlow wasanother man. A warm color crept into his weathered cheeks, he drewhimself up in his chair, his eyes shone. Zoraida, looking from face toface, laughed softly.
"What say you, my guests, to Zoraida's wine?" she said happily. "Madefor Zoraida a full four hundred years ago, treasured for her in thevaults of the ancient Montezumas, distilled from the olden moonberrywhich no longer do men know where to find or how to grow! None but theMontezumas themselves and the priests of the great god Quetzel everdrank of it, and they only on great feast days of rejoicing. A taste,Miss Pansy Blossom, would bring back the roses to your pale cheeks.And see my friend Barlow!" Lightly, laughing, she laid her hand for afleeting instant on his arm. "Already has the moonberry made his heartswell and blossom and filled it with dream stuff like honey!"
Something--the golden liquor in his veins or Zoraida's touch or thelook in her eyes--emboldened the sea-faring man. He clamped his bighairy hand down over her slim fingers and cried out, half starting fromhis chair:
"It's in my mind, Zoraida, that the old Montezumas left more thanbottled moonshine after them. To be taken by them that have the heartsfor the job. Maybe for you--Yes, and for me!"
Zoraida drew her hand away but the laughter did not die in her eyes orpass away from her scarlet lips. Barlow, holding himself stiff, shot alook that was open challenge at Kendric who returned it wonderingly.Rios touched up the ends of his black mustachios and appeared highlygood humored.
"Who knows?" said Zoraida softly, with a sidelong look at Kendric. "Atleast, spoken like a man, friend Barlow!"
Her mood was one of intense exhilaration. The movements of her supplebody in her ample chair were quick and graceful and sinuous, like aslender snake's; she seemed a-thrill and glowing; it was as though forthe moment life was for her as a great dynamo to which she had drawnclose so that it sent its mighty pristine and vigorous current dancingthrough her. She lifted her glass and sipped while she still smiled;she saw Barlow's empty goblet and impulsively emptied into it half ofher own. Though her back for the time was upon Bruce she seemed tofeel his quick jealous frown, for she turned swiftly from Barlow, andher fingers fluttered to Bruce's shoulder. Kendric saw her eyes as shegave them to Bruce in a look that was like a kiss. The boy flushed andwhen she made further amends by holding to his lips her own glass, hetouched it almost reverently.
Kendric, sickening with disgust at what he chose to consider acompetition in assininity between his two old friends, turned from themto Betty with some trivial remark. As he spoke he was contrasting herwith the splendid Zoraida and had he voiced the comparison Zoraida musthave whitened with anger and mortification while Betty flushed up,startled. He would have said; "One is like a poison serpent and theother like a flower." But instead of that he merely said:
"And how have you spent the long day, Miss Betty?"
Betty raised her head and looked at him steadily. A flower? Quickly,even before she spoke, he amended that. A girl, rather; a girl with amind of her own and a sorching [Transcriber's note: scorching?] hottemper and her utterly human moments of unreasonableness. Her glancemeant to cut and did cut. Her voice was serene, cool and contemptuous.
"I do not require to be amused, thank you," she said.
"Amused?" demanded Kendric, puzzled equally by words and expression.
"I am here against my will," she explained. "You are among your chosenfriends. To entertain me you need not deny yourself the pleasure oftheir delightful conversation."
"You know better than that," he said sharply. "If you don't care totalk with me----"
"I don't," said Betty.
Kendric reddened angrily. He opened his lips for the retort he meantto make; then instead gulped down his wine and sat back glowering.After having been fool enough to worry over her all day long to be toldto hold his tongue now set him to forming sweeping and denunciatorygeneralizations concerning her entire sex. Well, he wanted matterssimplified and here came the desired solution. Betty could forage forherself, could go to the devil if she liked, he told himself bluntly.Before the night passed he meant to make a break for the open and,thank God, he'd go alone. As a man should, with no woman around hisneck. Because a girl had hurt him he chose now to pretend to himselfthat he was glad to be rid of her.
After that, during the meal, both Jim and Betty sat for the most partsilent and Rios, nursing his mustache and watching all that wentforward, had little to say. On the other hand Zoraida and Bruce andBarlow made the dinner hour lively with their talk. Skilled in hermanagement of men, Zoraida had never shown greater genius for holdingtwo red blooded, ardent men in leash. She threw favors to each side ofher; a tumbled rose from her hair was loot for the sailorman who at themoment was of a mood to forget other greater and more golden loot forthe scented, wilting petals; a bracelet coming undone was for Bruce'seager fingers to fasten. And always when she looked at one man with akiss in her oblique eyes her head was turned so that the other manmight not see. Kendric she ignored.
"The same old story of good men gone wrong," philosophized Kendric."Let a man get a woman in his head and he's no earthly good." And, inhis turn, he ignored Betty. Or at least assured himself that he didso. But Betty, being Betty, though for the most part her eyes seemeddowncast, knew that the man at her side thought of little but her ownexasperating self. She did a good bit of speculating upon Jim Kendric;she was perplexed and uncertain; when he was not observing she shotmany a curious sidelong look at him.
"Miss Zoraida is about due to overreach herself," thought Kendric."She can't drive Barlow and Bruce tandem."
But Zoraida appeared to feel no uneasiness. As the meal went on andmeats and fruits were served and other vintages poured and coffee setbubbling over a tiny alcohol flame on the table, her spirits rose andshe dared anything. She was sure of herself and of her destiny and ofher dominance over the pleasureable situation. Bruce's eyes andBarlow's clashed like knives, but when they met hers softened andworshiped.
At the end of the meal, when they rose, Zoraida cried: "Wait!" At hersignal her servants swiftly lifted the table and carried it out throughthe double doors. Another smaller table was brought in; a man came toZoraida with a small steel box. She took it laughing, and laughingspilled its contents out upon the table so that gold pieces rolledjingling across the polished top and some fell to the floor. With herown hands she carelessly divided the gold into four nearly equal piles.
"For my guests!" she told them lightly. She took from the servant'shands a deck of cards and tossed it down among the minted gold. "Iwould watch such men as you four play for the whole stake. And," sheadded more slowly, her burning look embracing them all but lingeringupon Jim Kendric, "I have a curiosity to know who of you in my house isthe most favored of the gods!"
"There's a goodly pile there, Senorita," said Barlow who could neverlook upon gold without hungering. "You mean it all goes to the man whowins? And you don't play?"
"
All that," she answered him steadily, "goes to the man who wins. Withperhaps much more? Who knows?"
Bruce stepped eagerly to the table where already Barlow was before himwith a heap of the gold drawn up to his hand. Ruiz Rios took his placeindifferently, affecting a look of ennui. Kendric held back. Betty,aloof from them all, looked about her as though to escape. But at eachdoor, as though forbidding exit, stood one of Zoraida's men.
"You yourself do not play?" Barlow asked of Zoraida.
"This time, my friend," she replied, "I am content to watch."
Content rather, thought Kendric, to amuse herself by stirring up morebad blood among friends. For the look he saw on her face was one ofpure malicious mischief. It occurred to him that she had sorrowed notat all over the taking off of Escobar at Rios's hand; he had thesuspicion that in her cleverness she discerned looming trouble as aresult of encouraging the infatuations of two men like Bruce andBarlow, and that before she would let herself be destroyed by aninevitable jealous rage she meant to set them at each other's throats.Such an act he deemed entirely germane to Zoraida's dark methods.
"Senor Jim does not care to play?" she asked quietly.
Had not Betty chosen to look at him then Kendric's answer would havebeen a blunt, "No." But Betty did look, and the glance was as eloquentas a gush of stinging words. Without a clue to the girl's thoughts, hemerely set her down as the most illogical, impertinent and irritatingcreature it had ever been his bad lot to encounter. For her eyes toldhim that he was an animal of some sort of a crawling species which sheabhorred. This after he had put in long troubled hours seeking the wayto be of service to her!
"Bah," he said in his heart, staring coldly at her until she avertedher eyes, "they're all the same." And to Zoraida, "I'll play but Iplay with my own money."
Zoraida only laughed. His open rudeness seemed unmarked.
"Barlow," said Kendric, "I want a word with you first."
Barlow did not turn or lift his eyes.
"Talk fast then," he retorted. "The game's waiting."
"In private, if you don't mind," urged Kendric.
Now Barlow looked at him sullenly.
"After what happened last night, Kendric," he said heavily, "you and mehave got no private business together. Am I the man to take a bulletfrom another and then go chin with him?"
"You blame me for that?" Kendric was incredulous. Barlow snorted."Well," continued Kendric stiffly, "at least we've unfinished businessbetween us. You haven't forgotten what brought us down here, have you?"
"Treasure, you mean?" Barlow spat out the words defiantly. "Put thename to it, man! Well, what of it?"
"The understanding was that we stand together. That we split what wefind fifty-fifty. Does that still go?"
Barlow pulled nervously at his forelock, his eyes wandering. For aninstant they were fixed on the smiling face of Zoraida. Then growndogged they came back to Kendric.
"Hell take the understanding!" he blurted out savagely. "We stand eventonight, one as close to the loot as the other. It's every man forhimself, whole hog or none, and the devil take the hindmost. That'swhat it is!"
"Good," snapped Kendric. "That suits me." He slammed his little padof bank notes down on the table and took his chair. "What's the game,gentlemen?"
They named it poker and played hard. Reckless men with money were theyall, men accustomed to big fast games. The most reckless of them, JimKendric, was in a mood for anything provided it raced. Betty'sattitude, Betty's look, had stirred him after a strange new fashionwhich he did not analyze. Barlow's unreasonable unfriendliness hurtand angered; the jeer in Rios's hard black eyes ruffled his blood. Andeven young Bruce looked at him with a defiance which Kendric had nostomach for. From the first card played, Jim Kendric, like a pacemaker in a race, stamped his spirit upon the struggle.
Betty, seeing that she was not to be allowed to go sat down and for aspace made a pretense of ignoring what went forward before her. Butpresently as the atmosphere grew strained and intense, she forgot herpretense and leaned forward and watched eagerly. Zoraida had a couchdrawn up for her, richly colored silken cushions placed to her taste,and stretched out luxuriously, her chin in her two hands.
There are isolated games wherein chance enters which make one wonderwhat is this thing named chance, and from which one rises at lasttouched by the superstition which holds so firm a place in the heartsof all gamblers. From the beginning it was Jim Kendric's game. When ajack-pot was opened he went into it with an ace high, though it costhim a hundred dollars to call for cards, which was not playing pokerbut defying mathematics and challenging his luck. And the four cardsgiven him by Bruce, whose blue eyes named him fool, were two more acesand two queens. And the pot that was close to ten hundred dollarsbefore the sweetening was done, was his. Barlow, who had lost most,glared at him and muttered under his breath; young Bruce merely staredincredulously and looked again at the cards to make sure; Rios, who hadkept clear, smiled and murmured:
"Lucky at cards, unlucky in love, senor."
"I prefer the cards, thanks," said Kendric, stacking his winnings. Andthere was enough of the boy left in him for him to look briefly for thefirst time at Betty. Zoraida saw and bit her lip.
But though it was borne in upon those who played and those who watchedthat it was Jim Kendric's game there were the inevitable tense momentswhen each man in turn had his own eager hope. Bruce, no cool hand atgambling, showed his excitement in his shining blue eyes; Barlowmuttered to himself; Rios sat forward in his chair and left offpointing the tips of his mustaches. At the end of the first half hour,though Kendric's heap of winnings was by far the greatest, no man ofthem was down to bed rock.
And by now Kendric lost patience.
"Make it a jack pot for table stakes," he invited. "One hand for thewhole thing!"
"What's the hurry?" demanded Bruce. "You're doing well enough as itis, aren't you?"
"A quick killing is better than slow torture," returned Jim lightly."And you'll note that I am offering odds. Better than two to oneagainst the flushest of you."
"_Bueno, senor_," said Rios. "It suits me."
"It's a fool thing to do," growled Barlow. A fool thing for Kendric,but not for him, since his were the biggest losses. He had alwaysloved money, had Twisty Barlow, and could never understand HeadlongKendric's contempt for it and now looked at him as though at one gonemad. Then he shrugged. "Suits me," he said.
"Wait!" Zoraida suddenly leaped to her feet, tossed out her arms in awide gesture, her eyes unfathomable and shining with the mystery of ahidden thought. "I am glad to have in my house men like you four! Youare _men_! Were it life or death, love or war or wealth, you wouldplay the game the same. Men like you make the blood run hot in theheart of Zoraida who also grips life by the naked throat. Wait. Andlook."
She whirled and in another moment, as lithe as a cat, had sprung to thetop of a serving table half across the room. And there she displayedherself in all her barbaric splendor, posing like a model in anartist's studio, turning slowly, standing at last confronting them,a-thrill with her own daring.
"Would you play for such a stake as never men played for before? Forsuch a stake as kings would risk their crowns for? As such Zoraidaoffers herself, pledging her word to make the rich gift of herself tothe man who wins!"
For a moment all four and Betty with them and the serving men at thedoors stared at her and the room was dead still. Through the deepsilence cut Zoraida's laugh, clear and sweet as a silver bell. Undertheir bewildered gaze she preened herself like a peacock, proud of herbeauty so boldly displayed before their eyes. Zoraida smiled slowly.
"Is the stake high enough for your play?" she asked gently, in mockhumility.
Bruce surged up from his chair only to drop back into it without havingsaid a word. Rios's eyes caught fire and for the first time Kendricguessed that he, too, was in heart bond-servant to his amazing cousin.Barlow tugged at his forelock and muttered.
"Heap all the gold together," cried Zoraida. "Play for it and each manof you pray his favorite god for success. For with it goes Zoraida!"
Betty, looking at her out of round eyes, seemed once more the littlegirl Kendric had first taken her to be.
"Will you play?" said Zoraida softly.
"Yes! By God, yes!" cried Barlow.
Rios merely nodded and shoved his money to the middle of the table.Bruce started like a man from a dream and with hands that shook visiblythrust forward his own gold. Then all looked to Kendric.
Impulse decided for him and his answer came with no measurable time ofhesitation. If he played and lost, as he looked at it, there wasnothing to regret. If he played and won, perhaps it would have beenZoraida's own all-hazarding hands which had shown the way to break thechains that bound his two friends to her. It would need something likethis to bring both Bruce and Barlow to their senses. It was mostly ofBruce that he thought just then.
"One hand of cards?" said Barlow.
"Rather one card, my friend," said Kendric drily. "We are keeping alady waiting."
"Oh!" gasped Betty.
A shining pyramid was made of the gold pieces. Then the cards wereshuffled and one of the serving men was called forward. He dealt onecard to each of the four men, face down, and stepped back. Then thecards were turned over.
All were high cards, not one lower than a ten, yet with no two alike.The one ace--the ace of hearts--lay in front of Jim Kendric.