Daughter of the Sun
CHAPTER IX
WHICH BEGINS WITH A LITTLE SONG AND ENDS WITH TROUBLE BETWEEN FRIENDS
Speculation at this stage was profitless and the day was perfect.Kendric told himself critically that he was growing fanciful; he hadbeen cooped up too much. First on board the schooner _New Moon_, thenin four walls of a house. What he needed was day after day, stood onend, like this. If he didn't look out he'd be growing nerves next. Hegrinned widely at the remote possibility, pushed his hat far back androde on. And by the time his horse had carried him to the far edge ofthe level land and to the first slope of the downward pitch, he wassinging contentedly to himself and his horse and all the world thatcared to listen.
Far below, far ahead, he caught his first glimpse of the ranch housesmarking the Bruce West holdings. From the heights his eye ran downinto valley lands that stretched wide and far away, rolling, grassy,with occasional clumps of trees where there were water holes. A valleyby no means so prodigally watered as Zoraida's, but none the less anestate to put a sparkle into a man's eyes. It was large, it wassufficiently level and fertile; above aught else it was remote. Itgave the impression of a great, calm aloofness from the outside worldof traffic and congestion; it lay, mile after mile, sufficient untoitself, a place for a lover of the outdoors to make his home. Nowonder that young West had gone wild over it. Hills and mountains shutit in, rising to the sky lines like walls actually sustaining the bluecloudless void. As Jim Kendric rode on and down his old song, his ownsong, found its way to his lips.
"Where skies are blue And the earth is wide And it's only you And the mountainside!"
"Twenty miles between shacks," he considered approvingly. "And never aline fence to cut your way through. It's near paradise, this land,wherever it isn't just fair hell. No half way business; no maudlinmake-believe." But all of a sudden his face darkened. "Poor littlekid," he said. "If Bruce could only loan me half a dozen ready-mixed,rough and ready, border cowboys; Californians, Arizonans and Texans!"
His hopes of this were not large at any time; when he came upon thefirst of Bruce West's riders they vanished entirely. An Indian, orhalf breed at the best, ragged as to black stringy hair, hard visaged,stony eyed. Kendric called to him and the rider turned in his saddleand waited. And for answer to the question: "Where's the Old Man?Bruce West?" the answer was a hand lifted lazily to point up valley andsilence.
"_Gracias, amigo_," laughed Kendric and rode on.
There was not a more amazed man in all Lower California when JimKendric rode up to him. Bruce West was out with two of his men drivinga herd of young, wild-looking horses down toward the corrals beyond thehouse. For an instant his blue eyes stared incredulously; then theyfilled with shining joy. He swept off his broad hat to wave it wildlyabout his head; he came swooping down on Kendric as though he had asuspicion that his visitor had it in his head to whirl and make a boltfor the mountains; he whooped gleefully.
"Old Jim Kendric!" he shouted. "Old Headlong Jim! Old r'arin',tearin', ramblin', rovin', hell-for-leather Kendric! Oh, mama! Man,I'm glad to see you!"
Only a youngster, was Bruce West, but manly for all that, who wore hisheart on his sleeve, his honesty in his eyes and who would ratherfrolic than fight but would rather fight than do nothing. When lastKendric had seen him, Bruce was nursing his first mustache and gloryingin the triumphant fact that soon he would be old enough to vote; now,barely past twenty-three, he looked a trifle thinner than his formerhundred and ninety pounds but never a second older. He was a boy withblue eyes and yellow hair and a profound adoration for all that JimKendric stood for in his eager eyes.
"Why all the war paint, Baby Blue-eyes?" Kendric asked as they shookhands. For under Bruce's knee was strapped a rifle and a big armyrevolver rode at his saddle horn.
Bruce laughed, his mood having no place for frowns.
"Not just for ornament, old joy-bringer," he retorted. "Using 'emevery now and then. I'm in deep here, Jim, with every cent I've gotand every hope of big things. Times, a man has to shoot his way outinto the clear or go to the wall. Hey, Gaucho!" he called, turning inhis saddle. "You and Tony haze the ponies in to the corrals. And tellCastro we've got the King of Spain with us for grub and to put on thebest on the ranch; we'll blow in about noon. Come ahead, Jim; I'llshow you the finest lay-out of a cow outfit you ever trailed your eyeacross."
They rode, saw everything, both acreage and water and stock, andtalked; for the most part Bruce did the talking, speaking with quickenthusiasm of what he had, what he had done, what he meant toaccomplish yet in spite of obstacles. He had bought outright some sixthousand acres, expending for them and what low-bred stock they fed allof his inherited capital. From the nearest bank, at El Ojo, he hadborrowed heavily, mortgaging his outfit. With the proceeds he hadleased adjoining lands so that now his stock grazed over ten thousandacres; he had also bought and imported a finer strain of cattle. Withthe market what it was he was bound to make his fortune, hand overfist----
"If they'd only leave me alone!" he exclaimed hotly.
"They?" queried Kendric.
"Of course the country is unsettled," explained the boy. "Ever since Icame into it there has been one sort or another of unrest. When itisn't outright revolution it's politics and that's pretty near the samething. There are prowling bands of outlaws, calling themselvessoldiers, that the authorities can't reach. Look at those mountainsover there! What government that has to give half its time or more towatching its own step, can manage to ferret out every nest ofhighwaymen in every canon? Those boys are my big trouble, Jim! A raidfrom them is always on the books and there are times when I'm prettynear ready to throw up the sponge and drift. But it's a great land; agreat land. And now you're with me!" His eyes shone. "I'll make youany sort of a proposition you call for, Jim, and together we'll makehistory. Not to mention barrels of money."
Kendric's ever-ready imagination was snared. But he was in no positionto forget that he had other fish to fry.
"What do you know of your neighbors?" he asked.
"Not much," admitted Bruce. "And yet enough to _sabe_ what you'redriving at. The nearest are twenty miles away, at the Montezuma ranch.The boss of the outfit is your old friend Ruiz Rios. I told you thatin my letter. I haven't the dead wood on him but it's open and shutthat he'd as soon chip in on a cattle-stealing deal as anything else."
"He doesn't own the Montezuma," said Kendric.
"It's the same thing. The owner is a woman, his cousin, I believe.But she's away most of the time, and Rios does as he pleases."
"You don't know the lady, then?"
"Never saw her. Don't want to, since she's got Rios blood in her."
"Let's get down and roll a smoke and talk," offered Kendric. They wereon a grassy knoll; there were oaks and shade and grass for the horses.Bruce looked at him sharply, catching the sober note. But he saidnothing until they were lying stretched out under the oaks, holding thetie ropes at the ends of which their horses browsed.
"Cut her loose, Jim," he said then. "What's the story?"
Kendric told him: Of his quest with Twisty Barlow; of Zoraida Castlemarand her ambitions; of his own situation in the household, a prisonerwith today granted him only in exchange for his word to return by dawn;and finally of Betty Gordon.
"Good God," gasped Bruce. "They're going it that strong? Out in theopen, too! And laying their paws on an American girl. Whew!"
Kendric added briefly an account of his being stopped in the pass.
"It's a fair bet," he concluded, "that your raiders get their wordstraight from the Montezuma ranch. Which means, straight from the lipsof Zoraida Castlemar."
Bruce fell to plucking at the dry grass, frowning.
"Funny thing, it strikes me, Jim, that if you're right she should giveyou the chance to tip me off. How do you figure that out?"
"I haven't figured it out. Here's what we do know: When I was a dozenmiles from her place and naturally would suppose that, if I chose,
Iwas free to play out my own hand, up popped those three men; areminder, as plain as your hat, that through their eyes I was stillunder the eyes of Zoraida Castlemar. Further, as innocent as a fool, Icarried a message to them in a cut and tied saddle string. A messagethat was a passport for me; what other significance it carried, _quiensabe_? There's a red tassel on my horse's bridle; that might beanother sign, as far as you and I know. The quirt at my saddle horn,the chains in my bridle, the saddle itself or the folds of the saddleblanket--how do we know they don't all carry her word? An easy matter,if only the signal is prearranged."
"The fine craft of the Latin mind," muttered Bruce.
"Rather the subtlety of the old Aztecs," suggested Kendric.
"But all this could have been done as well, and taking no chances, byone of the Montezuma riders."
"Of course. Hence, the one thing clear is that it was desired that Ishould see you. Since it was obvious that I'd tell you what I knew,that's the odd part of it."
"Why, it's madness, man! It gives us the chance, if no other, to getword back home about the little Gordon girl."
"I'd thought of that. Just how would we do it? A letter in thenearest postoffice?"
"You mean that the postmaster would be on the watch for it? And wouldplay into her hands? Well, suppose we took the trouble to send acowboy to some other, further postoffice? Or, by golly, to send himall the way to the border? Or, if I should go with the word myself?"
"Answer: If you sent an Indian, how much would you bet that he did notcircle back to the Montezuma ranch with the letter? If you wentyourself, how far do you suppose you'd ever get?"
Bruce's eyes widened.
"Do you suppose they're going that strong, Jim?"
"I don't know, Bruce. But tell me: if it seemed the wise thing to do,could you drop everything here and make a try to get through with theword?"
Bruce looked worried.
"It's my hunch," he answered, "that it would be a cheaper play for meto pay the twenty-five thousand dollar ransom and be done with it! Youdon't know how bad things are here, Jim; if I went and came back itwould be to find that I'd been cleaned. No, I'm not exaggerating. Andwith the mortgage on the place, the next thing I would know was that itwas foreclosed and in the end I'd lose everything I've got."
"From which I gather you don't put a whole lot of confidence in yourcowboys?"
"That's the plain hell of it! Not only have I got to sleep with oneeye on my stock; I've got to keep the other peeled on the men that aretaking my pay. I never know what other man's pay they're taking at thesame time."
"Or what woman's. Well, I imagine Miss Castlemar knows conditions aswell as we do, if not a good deal better. So it looks as though shewere taking no chances in letting me ride over to see you; and itremains possible that by so doing I am furthering her purpose. Thoughjust how, is another thing I don't know."
"She must be some corker of a female," muttered Bruce. "What does shelook like, Jim?"
"Tall. Young and not bad looking. Vain as a peacock and high andmighty."
"That kind of a girl makes me sick," was young Bruce's quick decision."Let's ride back, Jim; it'll be time to eat."
As they rode slowly down toward the ranch house Bruce pointed out how,living in constant expectation of the operations of cattle and horsethieves, he took what precautions he could. The pick of his saddlehorses, a dozen of them, were grazed during the day in the fields nearthe house and at night were brought in and stabled. A number of thefinest cattle, including a thoroughbred Hereford bull and fortybeautiful Hereford cows, recently purchased, were driven each eveninginto the nearest fields where from dark to daylight they were herded bya night rider.
"I've got to take it for granted," explained West, "that at least someof my vacqueros are on the level. I pick my best men for jobs likethis. And I've always got night riders out, making their rounds fromone end of the valley to the other. On top of all that I've got mydogs; look, here they come to meet us."
There were ten of them, big tan and white collies, vying with oneanother to come first to their master. Splendid animals all of them,but at the fore ran the most splendid of them all, the father andpatriarch of his flock. It was his keen nostril and eye that was wontfirst to know who came; his superb strength and speed carried him wellin the lead and he guarded his supremacy jealously. His sharp teethsnapped viciously when a hardy son ran close at his side and theyoungster, though he snarled and bristled, swerved widely and thus fellback. They barked as they swept on, the sharp, stacatto bark of theirbreed.
"They're something I can trust," said Bruce proudly. "No hand but minefeeds them; if I catch a man carressing one of them he draws his payand quits. And I go to sleep of nights reasonably sure that their dinwill wake me if an outsider sets foot near the home corrals. Hi!Monarch! Jump for it."
From his pocket he brought out a bit of dried beef, the "jerky" of thesouthwest. He held it out arm's length, sending his horse racingforward with a sudden touch of his spur. The big dog barked eagerlyand launched his sinewy body into the air; the sunlight flashed back amoment from the bared sharp teeth; Monarch dropped softly back to earthwith the dried beef already bolted. Bruce laughed.
At the house, like Zoraida's in the matters of age and thick, coolwalls, but much smaller, they found an excellent meal awaiting them.They ate under a leafy grape arbor on the shady side of the house, halfa dozen of Bruce's men sitting at table with them. Kendric regardedthe men with interest, feeling that their scrutiny of him was no lesspainstaking. They were swarthy Indians and half-breeds and little elsedid he make of them. Their eyes met his, steady and unwinking, butgave no clue to what thoughts might lie back of them.
"I'll bet Bruce sleeps with a gun under his pillow," was Kendric'sthought at the end of the meal.
By the well, under some shade trees in the yard, the two friends satand smoked, watching the men laze away to the stables. Thereafter theyspoke quietly of the captive in the Hacienda Montezuma.
"It's not to be thought of," said Bruce, "that a scared little kid likeher is to be held that way and we sit like two bumps on a log. Lookslike her troubles were up to you and me, Jim."
In the end they agreed that at least it was unthinkable that BettyGordon would suffer any bodily injury in the same house with Zoraidaand her girls; further, that the greatest access of terror had no doubtpassed. One grew accustomed to pretty nearly everything. Kendric,bound by his parole to return, would seek the girl out and extend toher what comfort he could; just to know that she was not altogetherfriendless would bring hope and its own sort of gladness. Tonight, assoon as the men came in and it was dark, they would send Manuel,Bruce's most trustworthy man, to a forty-mile distant postoffice. Hewould carry with him two letters: one would be addressed to thegovernor of Lower California and one to friends in San Diego.
"It's about the best we can do on short notice," admitted Kendric,though he was dissatisfied. "I'm not figuring, though, that it's inthe cards for me to stick overlong under the same roof with Rios andhis crowd. There's the schooner down in the gulf and there's you forus to count on. Never fret, old Baby Blue-eyes; we'll have her out ofthat yet."
The letters were written; a little after dusk Manuel set forth,promised a double month's pay if he succeeded and in return promisingby all the saints he could call to tongue that he would guard theletters with his life. From their chairs on the porch Kendric andBruce saw the man depart. When his figure had dimned and blurred intothe gathering night they still sat on, silent, watching the stars comeout. Bruce had brought out cigars and the red embers glowedcompanionably. Presently Bruce sighed.
"It's a great little old land," he said, and the inflection of thequietly spoken words was that of affection. "A man could ask for nobetter, Jim. Conditions right now are damnable; you've got to scrapall along the line for what's yours. But what do you know that isworth the having that isn't worth the fighting for? And one of thesefine days when Mexico settles down to bu
siness, sort of grows up andgets past the schoolboy stage, we'll have the one combination nowlacking--law and order."
Kendric, who had been reflecting upon other matters, made no immediatereply. Bruce had the answer to his suggestion of a new order of thingsbut it came from the darkness beyond his barns. There was a suddensharp bark from one of his dogs, then a rising clamor as the whole packbroke into excited barking. From so far away that the sound barelyreached them came a man's voice, exclaiming angrily. Then a rifleshot, a long, shrill whistle, shouts and the sudden thud of many racinghoofs.
Bruce West toppled over his chair and plunged through the nearest door.It was dark in the house and Kendric heard him strike against a secondchair, send it crashing to the floor and dash on. In a moment Brucewas back on the porch, a rifle in each hand. One he thrust out toKendric, muttering between his teeth,
"Raiders, or we're in luck. Damned rebel outlaws. Come on!"
He ran out into the yard, Kendric at his heels pumping a shell into thebarrel. As they turned a corner of the house Bruce stopped dead in histrack and Kendric bumped into him and stopped with him. Already thebarns were on fire; two tall flames stabbed upward at the dark; thehissing of burning wood and fodder must have reached their ears in fiveminutes had the pack given no warning. In the rapidly growing lightthey saw the dogs where, bunched together, they snarled and snapped andbroke into wilder baying.
Bruce began shouting, calling to his men, three or four of whom camerunning out of the house. Beyond the barns they made out vague forms,whether of cattle or horses or riders it was at first impossible toknow. Again they ran forward; from somewhere in the direction of thecorrals came several rifle reports. With the gun shots a confusion ofshouts through the heavier notes of which rose one voice, as highpitched as a woman's.
In the barn lofts the flames were spreading in a thousand directions,each dry stalk serving as a duct of destruction. The fire shot upwardand the roof blossomed in red flames. Bruce groaned and cursed andprayed wildly for a glimpse of one of the devils who had done this forhim. Big clouds of smoke drifted upward across the stars, shot throughwith flying sparks. Swiftly the lurid light spread until the whitewalls of the house stood out distinctly and the forms near the corralswere no longer vague. They were running cattle, Bruce's choice fortycows; Kendric saw the fine bred Hereford bull's horns glint, heard thesnort of fear and rage, made out the big bulk crushing a way to thefore among his terrified companions. There were horses, too, runningwild, the animals from the stables and the near corral. And behindthem, shouting and now and then firing into the air to hasten thelaggards, were many horsemen. How many it was impossible to estimate,a dozen at the least, perhaps fifty.
As the black mass of frightened beasts gathered forward headway andshot through the area of light, Kendric saw one horseman clearly. Onthe instant he threw up his rifle. Already his finger was crooking tothe trigger when, with a mutter of rage, he lowered his arm. There wasno mistaking that great white horse and he thought that there was aslittle mistaking its rider, a slender, upright figure leading the rushof the raiders, calling out sharp orders in the clear ringing voice,sweeping on recklessly. He cursed her but he held back his fire. Ofwomen he knew little enough and for women there had been no placereserved in his life; but, for all that and all that Zoraida Castlemarmight be and might do, he had not learned to lift his hand against hersex.
But there was nothing in what Bruce saw to restrain him. He firedwhile his rifle was rising to his shoulder and again and again with thestock against his cheek.
"Damn the light!" he growled, and fired again.
Through the tumult Kendric heard her laughter. None other than Zoraidacould laugh like that. Again the suspicion flashed into his quickenedbrain that the girl was mad. He heard several shots behind him;Bruce's men were taking a hand. Then, close behind the white mare camea second horseman and Kendric thanked God for a man for a target andfired at it. Luck if he hit it, he told himself, at that distance andrunning and in that flickering light. But he fired again, ran incloser and fired the third time. And just as the white mare passed onthrough the illumed area and was lost in the dark with its rider he sawhis man pitch forward and plunge to the ground. Other forms swept by,other shots were fired both from the outlaws and toward them. Thedarkness accepted them all and no other man fell.
Shouts floated back to them above the hammering thud of the fleeingcows and horses. Into the darkness after them Bruce and Kendric andBruce's men sent many questing bullets while now and then an answeringleaden pellet screamed over their heads. Swiftly the clamor of thereceding hoof-beats lessened; no voices returned to them; no wild riderwas to be seen. The night pulsed only to the barks of the dogs and theroar of the devastating flames.
Bruce was calling loudly to his men to get to horse and follow. Butwhile he spoke he broke off hopelessly realizing that not a horse wasleft to him. Before he and his herders could get into saddle they mustwait for daylight and must waste hours in driving in horses from thedistant pastures, wild brutes for the most part that a man could neverget near enough on foot to rope. He threw out his arms in a widegesture of despair. Thereafter he stood, silent and moody, watchinghis hay-filled barns burn.
"If I could get my hands on the man that engineered this," he said, hisvoice broken, barely carrying to Kendric a few paces away. "That's allI ask."
Kendric, his rage scarcely less than Bruce's, called back to him:
"I could lead you as straight as a string. It's the handiwork of yourneighbor."
"Rios?" cried Bruce eagerly.
"Zoraida Castelmar."
"Damn her!" cried the boy. In the firelight Kendric saw his steadyeyes glisten and knew that they were filled with tears, the terribletears of rage rising above anguish. "Damn her!"
After that he stood silent again looking at the burning buildings.When a new flame spurted skyward, when a section of roof fell, hetwitched as though his muscles knew physical pain. At last he turnedaway and Kendric saw a face that it was hard to recognize as the boyishface of blue-eyed Bruce West.
"This beats me," said Bruce, quietly. "Best stock gone, new barns andhay turned to cinders. Ten thousand dollars wiped out in an hour.Yes; done for, Jim, old man. Clean."
Kendric found no word of answer. He turned away and went down to thebroken corrals where the man behind Zoraida had fallen. If the manwere not dead he might be induced to talk. And in any case, thiefthough he was, he was a man and not a dog. He found the huddled bodylying still. Kneeling, he turned it over so that the wavering lightshone on the face. He did not know whether the man was dead or not; heknew only that it was Twisty Barlow. He squatted there, looking fromthe white face to the sky full of stars. And his thought was less onthe instant of Twisty Barlow than of Zoraida Castlemar.
"This is what she has done for two old friends," he said aloud.