Part 16 (2/2)
”Perfectly, sir! Perfectly! As plain as I see this julep before me. I had just left the Ramierez rancho. The senora,--a devilish pretty woman, sir,--after a little playful badinage, had offered to lend me her daughter's mustang if I could ride it home. You know what it is, Mr. Grey,” he said gallantly. ”I'm an older man than you, sir, but a challenge from a d----d fascinating creature, I trust, sir, I am not yet old enough to decline. Gad, sir, I mounted the brute. I've ridden Morgan stock and Blue Gra.s.s thoroughbreds bareback, sir, but I've never thrown my leg over such a blanked Chinese cracker before. After he bolted I held my own fairly, but he buck-jumped before I could lock my spurs under him, and the second jump landed me!”
”How far from the Ramierez fonda were you when you were thrown?”
”A matter of four or five hundred yards, sir.”
”Then your accident might have been seen from the fonda?”
”Scarcely, sir. For in that case, I may say, without vanity, that--er--the--er senora would have come to my a.s.sistance.”
”But not her husband?”
The old-fas.h.i.+oned s.h.i.+rt-frill which the colonel habitually wore grew erectile with a swelling indignation, possibly half a.s.sumed to conceal a certain conscious satisfaction beneath. ”Mr. Grey,” he said, with pained severity, ”as a personal friend of mine, and a representative of the press,--a power which I respect,--I overlook a disparaging reflection upon a lady, which I can only attribute to the levity of youth and thoughtlessness. At the same time, sir,” he added, with illogical sequence, ”if Ramierez felt aggrieved at my attentions, he knew where I could be found, sir, and that it was not my habit to decline giving gentlemen--of any nationality--satisfaction--sir!--personal satisfaction.”
He paused, and then added, with a singular blending of anxiety and a certain natural dignity, ”I trust, sir, that nothing of this--er--kind will appear in your paper.”
”It was to keep it out by learning the truth from you, my dear colonel,”
said the editor lightly, ”that I called to-day. Why, it was even suggested,” he added, with a laugh, ”that you were half strangled by a la.s.so.”
To his surprise the colonel did not join in the laugh, but brought his hand to his loose cravat with an uneasy gesture and a somewhat disturbed face.
”I admit, sir,” he said, with a forced smile, ”that I experienced a certain sensation of choking, and I may have mentioned it to Mr.
Parmlee; but it was due, I believe, sir, to my cravat, which I always wear loosely, as you perceive, becoming twisted in my fall, and in rolling over.”
He extended his fat white hand to the editor, who shook it cordially, and then withdrew. Nevertheless, although perfectly satisfied with his mission, and firmly resolved to prevent any further discussion on the subject, Mr. Grey's curiosity was not wholly appeased. What were the relations of the colonel with the Ramierez family? From what he himself had said, the theory of the foreman as to the motives of the attack might have been possible, and the a.s.sault itself committed while the colonel was unconscious.
Mr. Grey, however, kept this to himself, briefly told his foreman that he found no reason to add to the account already in type, and dismissed the subject from his mind. The colonel left the town the next day.
One morning a week afterward, the foreman entered the sanctum cautiously, and, closing the door of the composing-room behind him, stood for a moment before the editor with a singular combination of irresolution, shamefacedness, and humorous discomfiture in his face.
Answering the editor's look of inquiry, he began slowly, ”Mebbe ye remember when we was talkin' last week o' Colonel Starbottle's accident, I sorter allowed that he knew all the time WHY he was attacked that way, only he wouldn't tell.”
”Yes, I remember you were incredulous,” said the editor, smiling.
”Well, I take it all back! I reckon he told all he knew. I was wrong! I cave!”
”Why?” asked the editor wonderingly.
”Well, I have been through the mill myself!”
He unb.u.t.toned his s.h.i.+rt collar, pointed to his neck, which showed a slight abrasion and a small livid mark of strangulation at the throat, and added, with a grim smile, ”And I've got about as much proof as I want.”
The editor put down his pen and stared at him.
”You see, Mr. Grey, it was partly your fault! When you bedeviled me about gettin' that news, and allowed I might try my hand at reportin', I was fool enough to take up the challenge. So once or twice, when I was off duty here, I hung around the Ramierez shanty. Once I went in thar when they were gamblin'; thar war one or two Americans thar that war winnin' as far as I could see, and was pretty full o' that aguardiente that they sell thar--that kills at forty rods. You see, I had a kind o'
suspicion that ef thar was any foul play goin' on it might be worked on these fellers ARTER they were drunk, and war goin' home with thar winnin's.”
”So you gave up your theory of the colonel being attacked from jealousy?” said the editor, smiling.
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