A Daughter of the Dons: A Story of New Mexico Today

  CHAPTER XXII

  THE ATTACK

  Dick Gordon and Davis were sitting on the porch of their cabin, whichwas about an eighth of a mile from the main buildings of the Corbettplace. They had returned the day before from Santa Fe, along with twodeputy sheriffs who had come to arrest Pablo and Sebastian. The officershad scoured the valley for two days, and as yet had not caught a glimpseof the men they had come to get. Their inquiries were all met by adogged ignorance on the part of the Mexicans, who had of a sudden turnedsurprisingly stupid. No, they had seen nothing of Pablo or of Sebastian.They knew nobody of that name--unless it was old Pablo Gardiez the_senors_ wished to see. Many strangers desired to see him, for he wasmore than a hundred years old and still remembered clearly the old days.

  Gordon laughed at the discomfiture of his sleuths. "I dare say they mayhave been talking to the very men they wanted. But everybody hangstogether in this valley. I'm going out with them myself to-morrow afterthe gentlemen the law requires."

  "No, I wouldn't do that, Dick. With every greaser in the valleysimmering against you, it won't do for you to go trapsing right downamong them," Davis explained.

  "That's where I'm going, anyhow--to-morrow morning. The deputies arestaying up at Morrow's. I'm going to phone 'em to-night that I'll ridewith them to-morrow. Bet you a new hat we flush our birds."

  "What's the sense of you going into the police business, Dick? I'll tellyou what's ailing you. You're just honing to see Miss Valdes again. Youwant to go grand-standing around making her mad at you some more."

  "You're a wiz, Steve," admitted his friend dryly. "Maybe you're right.Maybe I do want to see her again. Why shouldn't I?"

  "What good does it do you when you quarrel all the time you're together?She's declared herself already on this proposition--told the deputiesflat-footed that she wouldn't tell them anything and would help her boysto escape in any way she could. You're just like a kid showing off hismuscle before a little girl in the first grade."

  "All right, Steve. You don't hear me denying it."

  "Denying it," snapped the old miner. "Hmp! Lot of good that would do.You're fair itching to get a chance to go down to the ranch and swaggeraround in plain sight of her lads. You'd be tickled to death if youcould cut out the two you want and land them here in spite of her andDon Manuel and the whole pack of them. Don't I know you? Nothing butvanity--that's all there's to it."

  "He's off," murmured Dick with a grin to the scenery.

  "You make me tired. Why don't you try a little horse sense for a change?Honest, if you was a few years younger I'd put you acrost my knee andspank you."

  Gordon lit a cigarette, but did not otherwise contribute to theconversation.

  "Ain't she wearing another man's ring?" continued Davis severely."What's bitin' you, anyhow? How many happy families you want to breakup? First off, there's Pablo and Juanita. You fill up her little noodlewith the notion that----"

  Dick interrupted amiably. "Go to grass, you old granny. I've beenputting in my spare time since I came back letting Juanita understandthe facts. If she had any wrong notions she ain't got them any longer.She's all ready to kiss and make up with Pablo first chance she gets."

  "Then there's Miss Valdes and this Pesky fellow, who's the whitest brownman I ever did see. Didn't he run his fool laigs off getting you free soyou could go back and make love to his girl?"

  "He's the salt of the earth. I'm for Don Manuel strong. But I don'treckon Miss Valdes would work well in harness with him," explained Dick.

  Steve Davis snorted. "No, you reckon Dick Gordon would, though. Don'tyou see she's of his people--same customs, same ways, same----"

  "She's no more of his people than she is of mine. Her mother was anAmerican girl. She was educated in Washington. New Mexico is in America,not in Spain. Don't forget that, you old croaker."

  "Well, she's engaged, ain't she? And to a good man. It ain't your putin."

  "A good one, but the wrong one. It's a woman's privilege to change hermind. I'm here to help her change it," announced the young man calmly."Say, look at Jimmie Corbett hitting the high spots this way."

  Jimmie, not yet recovered from a severe fright, stopped to explain theadventure that had befallen him while he had been night fishing.

  "I seen spooks, Mr. Gordon--hundreds of 'em--coming down the river bankon horseback--honest to goodness, I did."

  "Jimmie, if I had your imagination----"

  But Davis cut into Dick's smiling incredulity:

  "Did you say on horseback, Jimmie?"

  "Yes, sir, on horseback. Hope to die if they weren't--'bout fifty ofthem."

  "You better run along home before they catch you, Jimmie," advised theold miner gravely.

  The boy went like a streak of light. Davis turned quietly to hispartner.

  "I reckon it's come, Dick."

  "You believe the boy did see some men on horseback? It might have beenonly shadows."

  "No, sir. His imagination wouldn't have put spooks _on horseback_. Wegot no time to argue. You going to hold the fort here or take to thehills?"

  "You think they mean to attack us in the open?"

  "They're hoping to surprise us, I reckon. That's why they're comingalong the creek instead of the road. Hadn't 'a' been for Jimmie, theywould have picked us off from the porch before we could say 'JackRobinson.'"

  Both men had at once stepped within the log cabin, and, as they talked,were strapping on ammunition belts and looking to their rifles andrevolvers.

  "There are too many doors and windows to this cabin. We can't hold itagainst them. We'll take the trail from the back door that leads up tothe old spring. From up there we'll keep an eye on them," said Dick.

  "I see 'em coming," cried the older man softly from the front window."They ain't on the trail, but slipping up through the rocks.One--two--three--four--Lord, there's no end to the beggars! They're onfoot now. Left their hawsses, I expect, down by the river."

  Quietly the two men stepped from the back door of the cabin and swiftlyascended the little trail that rose at a sharp acclivity to the spring.At some height above the cabin, they crouched behind boulders andwatched the cautious approach of the enemy.

  "Not taking any chances, are they?" murmured Gordon.

  Steve laughed softly.

  "Heard about that chicken-killing affair, mebbe, and none of themanxious to add a goose to the exhibit."

  "It would be right easy to give that surprise party a first-classsurprise," chuckled Dick. "Shall I drop a pill or two down among them,just to let them know we're on the premises?"

  "Now, don't you, Dick. We'll have to put half of 'em out of biz, and getshot up by the rest, if you do."

  "All right. I'll be good, Steve. I was only joking, anyhow. But itce'tainly is right funny to sit up here and watch them snake up to theempty cabin. See that fellow with the Mexican hat? I believe it's myjealous friend Pablo. He's ce'tainly anxious to get one Gringo's scalp.I could drop a stone down on him so he'd jump about 'steen feet."

  "There's one reached the window. He's looking in mighty careful, youbet. Now he's beckoning the other fellows. I got a notion he's made adiscovery."

  "Got on to the fact that the nest's empty. They're pouring in like bees.Can you make out how many there are? I count nine," said Dick.

  "They're having a powwow now. All talking with their hands, the waygreasers do. Go to it, boys. A regular debating society, ain't you?"

  "Hello! What's that mean?" broke in Gordon.

  One of the Mexicans had left the rest, and was running toward theCorbett house.

  "Gone to find whether we're on the porch with the family, up there,"continued the young man, answering his own question.

  "What's the matter with beating it while we've got a chanct?"

  "I'm going to stay right here. You can go if you like, Steve?"

  "Oh, well. I just suggested it." Davis helped himself to a chew oftobacco placidly.

  "Fellow coming back from the house already," he presently added.

>   "Got the wrong address again. They'll be happening on the right onepretty soon."

  "Soon as they're amply satisfied we ain't under the beds, or hid betweenthe covers of some of them magazines. Blamed if they ain't lit a lamp."

  Gordon gave a sudden exclamation of dismay. A Mexican had appeared atthe back door of the cottage with a tin box in his hand.

  "I'm the blamedest idiot out of an asylum," he cried bitterly. "All theproofs of my claim are in that box. You know I brought it back fromSanta Fe with me."

  "Ain't that too bad?"

  Gordon rose, the lines of his mouth set fast and hard.

  "I'm going down after it. If I lose those papers, the whole game'sspoilt for me. I've got to have them, and I'm going to."

  "Don't be a goat. How can you take it from a whole company of them?"

  "I'll watch my chance. It may be the fellow will hide it somewhere tillhe wants it again."

  "I'm going, too, then."

  "See here, Steve. Be sensible. If we both go down, it's a sure thingthey will stumble on us."

  "Too late, anyhow. They're coming up after us."

  "So much the better. We'll cut across to the left, slip down, and takethem in the rear. Likely as not we'll find it there."

  "All right. Whatever you say, Dick."

  They slipped away into the semi-darkness, taking advantage of every bitof cover they could find. Not until they were a long stone's throw fromthe trail did the young miner begin the descent.

  Occasionally they could hear voices over to the right as they silentlyslipped down. It was no easy thing to negotiate that stiff mountainsidein the darkness, where a slip would have sent one of them rolling downinto the sharp rock-slide beneath. Presently they came to a rockrim, asheer descent of twenty-five feet down the perpendicular face of acliff.

  They followed the ledge to the left, hoping to find a trough throughwhich they might discover a way down. But in this they weredisappointed.

  "We'll have to go back. There's a place we passed where perhaps it maybe done. We've got to try it, anyhow," said Gordon, in desperation.

  Retracing their steps, they came to the point Dick had meant. It lookedbad enough, in all conscience, but from the rocks there jutted halfwaydown a dwarf oak that had found rooting in a narrow cleft.

  The young man worked his body over the edge, secured a foothold in sometiny scarp that broke the smoothness of the face, and groped, with onehand and then the other, for some hold that would do to brace hisweight. He found one, lowered himself gingerly, and tested anotherfoothold in a little bunch of dry moss.

  "All right. My rifle, Steve."

  It was handed down. At that precise moment there came to them the soundof approaching voices.

  "Your gun, Steve! Quick. Now, then, over you come. That's right--no, theother hand--your foot goes there--easy, now."

  They stood together on a three-inch ledge, their heels projecting overspace. Nor had they reached this precarious safety any too soon, foralready their pursuers were passing along the rim above.

  One of them stopped on the edge, scarce eight feet above them.

  "They must have come this way," he said to a companion. "But I expectthey're hitting the trail about a mile from here."

  "_Si, Pablo_. Can you feed me a cigareet?" the other asked.

  The men below, scarce daring to breathe, waited, while the matchesglimmered and the cigarettes puffed to a glow. Every instant theyanticipated discovery; and they were in such a position that, if itcame, neither of them could use his weapons. For they were crampedagainst the wall with their rifles by their sides, so bound by thesituation that to have lifted them to aim would have been impossible.

  "The American--he has escaped us this time," one of them said as theymoved off.

  "_Maldito_, the devil has given him wings to fly away," replied Pablo.

  After the sound of their footsteps had died, Gordon resumed his descent.He reached the stunted oak in safety, and was again joined by hisfriend.

  "Looks like we're caught here, Steve. There ain't a sign of a footholdbelow," the younger man whispered.

  "Mebbe the branches of that tree will bend over."

  "We'll have to try it, anyhow. If it breaks with me, I'll get to thebottom, just the same. Here goes."

  Catching hold of the branches, he swung down and groped with his feetfor a resting-place.

  "Nothing doing, Steve."

  "What blamed luck!"

  "Hold on! Here's a cleft, away over to the right. Let me get a hold onthat gun to steady me. That's all right. The rest's easy. I'll give youa hand across--that's right. Now we're there."

  At the very foot of the cliff an unexplainable accident occurred. Dick'srifle went off with noise enough to wake the seven sleepers.

  "Come on, Steve. We got to get out of here," he called to his partner,and began to run down the hill toward their cabin.

  He covered ground so fast that the other could not keep up with him.From above there came the crack of a rifle, then another and another, asthe men on the ridge sighted their prey. A spatter of bullets threw upthe dirt around them. Dick felt a red-hot flame sting his leg, but,though he had been hit, to his surprise he was not checked.

  Topping the brow of a little rise, he caught sight of the cabin, and, tohis consternation, saw that smoke was pouring from the door and thatwithin it was alight with flames.

  "The beggars have set fire to it," he cried aloud.

  So far as he could see, four men had been left below. They did not atfirst catch sight of him as he dodged forward in the shadows of thealders at the foot of the hill. Nor did they see him even when hestopped among the rocks at the rear, for their eyes were on Davis andtheir attention focused upon him.

  He had come puffing to the brow of the hillock Gordon had alreadypassed, when a shout from the ridge apprised those below of hispresence. Cut off above and below, there was nothing left for Steve buta retreat down the road. He could not possibly advance in the face offour rifles, and he knew, too, that the best aid he could offer hisfriend was to deflect the attention of the watchers from him.

  He fell back promptly, running from boulder to boulder in his retreat,pursued cautiously by the enemy. His ruse would have succeededadmirably, so far as Dick was concerned, except for that young manhimself. He could not sit quiet and see his friend the focus of thefire.

  Wherefore, it happened that the attackers of Davis were haltedmomentarily by a disconcerting fusillade from the rear. The "Americandevil" had come out into the open, and was dropping lead among them.

  At this juncture a rider galloped into view from the river gorge alongwhich wound the road. He pulled his jaded horse to a halt beside the oldminer and leaped to the ground.

  Without waiting an instant for their fire to cease, he ran straightforward toward the pursuing Mexicans.

  As he came into the moonlight, Dick saw with surprise that the newcomerwas Don Manuel Pesquiera. He was hatless, apparently too unarmed. Butnot for a second did this stop him as he sprinted forward.

  Straight for the spitting rifles Don Manuel ran, face ablaze with anger.He had covered half the distance before the weapons wavered groundward.

  "Don Manuel!" cried Sebastian, perturbed by this apparition flyingthrough the night toward them.

  Dick waited only long enough to make sure that hostilities had for themoment ceased against his friend before beginning his search for the tinbox.

  He quartered back and forth over the ground behind the burning housewithout result, circled it rapidly, his eyes alert to catch the shine ofthe box in the moonbeams, and examined the space among the rocks at thebase of the hill. Nowhere did he see what he wanted.

  "I'll have to take a whirl at the house. Some of them may have carriedit back inside," he told himself.

  As he stepped toward the door, Don Manuel came round the corner. At hisheels were Steve and the four Mexicans who had but a few minutes beforebeen trying industriously to exterminate the miner.

  Don Manuel bowed punctil
iously to Gordon.

  "I beg to express my very great regrettance at this untimely attack," hesaid.

  "Don't mention it, _don_. This business of chasing over the hills in themoonlight is first-class for the circulation of the blood, I expect.Most of us got quite a bit of exercise, first and last."

  Dick spoke with light irony; but one distraught half of his attentionwas upon the burning house.

  "Nevertheless, you will permeet me to regret, _senor_," returned theyoung Spaniard stiffly.

  "Ce'tainly. You're naturally sore that you didn't get first crack at me.Don't blame you a bit," agreed Dick cheerfully but absently. "Funnything is that one of your friends happened to send his message to myaddress, all right. Got me in the left laig, just before you butted inand spoiled their picnic so inconsiderate."

  "You are then wounded, sir?"

  "Not worth mentioning, _don_. Just a little accident. Wouldn't happenagain in a thousand years. Never did see such poor shots as your valleylads. Say, will you excuse me just a minute? I got some awful importantbusiness to attend to."

  "Most entirely, Senor Gordon."

  "Thanks. Won't be a minute."

  To Pesquiera's amazement, he dived through the door, from which smokepoured in clouds, and was at once lost to sight within.

  "He is a madman," the Spaniard murmured.

  "Or devil," added Sebastian significantly. "You will see, _senor_, hewill come out safe and unharmed."

  But he did not come out at all, though the minutes dragged themselvesaway one after another.

  "I'm going after him," cried Davis, starting forward.

  But Don Manuel flung strong arms about him, and threw the miner backinto the hands of the Mexicans.

  "Hold him," he cried in Spanish.

  "Let me go. Let me go, I say!" cried the miner, struggling with thosewho detained him.

  But Pesquiera had already gone to the rescue. He, too, plunged throughthe smoke. Blinded unable to breathe, he groped his way across the doorlintel into the blazing hut.

  The heat was intense. Red tongues of flame licked out from all sidestoward him. But he would not give up, though he was gasping for breathand could not see through the dense smoke.

  A sweep of wind brushed the smoke aside for an instant, and he saw thebody of his enemy lying on the floor before him. He stooped, tried topick it up, but was already too far gone himself.

  Almost overcome, he sank to his knees beside Gordon. Close to the floorthe air was still breathable. He filled his lungs, staggered to hisfeet, and tried to drag the unconscious man across the threshold withhim.

  A hundred fiery dragons sprang unleashed at him. The heat, the stiflingsmoke were more than flesh and blood could endure. He stumbled over afallen chair, got up and plowed forward again, still with that deadweight in his arms; collapsed again, and yet once more pulled himself tohis feet by the sheer strength of the dogged will in him.

  So, at last, like a drunken man, he reeled into safety, the very hairand clothes of the man on fire from the inferno he had just left.

  A score of eager hands were ready to relieve him of his burden, tosupport his lurching footsteps. Two of them were the strong brown handsof the woman he loved more than any other on earth, the woman who hadgalloped into sight just in time to see him come staggering from thatfurnace with the body of the man who was his hated rival. It was hersoft hands that smothered the fire in his hair, that dragged the burningcoat from his back.

  He smiled wanly, murmured "Valencia," and fainted in her arms.

  Gordon clutched in his stiffened fingers a tin box blistered by theheat.