Volume X Part 20 (1/2)
”I might as well tell you now, pardner,” said the Kid, sliding down low on his steamer chair, ”that things are going to stay just as they are.
They're about right now.”
”What do you mean?” asked Thacker, rattling the bottom of his gla.s.s on his desk.
”The scheme's off,” said the Kid. ”And whenever you have the pleasure of speaking to me address me as Don Francisco Urique. I'll guarantee I'll answer to it. We'll let Colonel Urique keep his money. His little tin safe is as good as the time-locker in the First National Bank of Laredo as far as you and me are concerned.”
”You're going to throw me down, then, are you?” said the consul.
”Sure,” said the Kid cheerfully. ”Throw you down. That's it. And now I'll tell you why. The first night I was up at the colonel's house they introduced me to a bedroom. No blankets on the floor--a real room, with a bed and things in it. And before I was asleep, in comes this artificial mother of mine and tucks in the covers. 'Panchito,' she says, 'my little lost one, G.o.d has brought you back to me. I bless his name forever.' It was that, or some truck like that, she said. And down comes a drop or two of rain and hits me on the nose. And all that stuck by me, Mr. Thacker. And it's been that way ever since. And it's got to stay that way. Don't you think that it's for what's in it for me, either, that I say so. If you have any such ideas, keep 'em to yourself. I haven't had much truck with women in my life, and no mothers to speak of, but here's a lady that we've got to keep fooled. Once she stood it; twice she won't. I'm a low-down wolf, and the devil may have sent me on this trail instead of G.o.d, but I'll travel it to the end. And now, don't forget that I'm Don Francisco Urique whenever you happen to mention my name.”
”I'll expose you to-day, you--you double-dyed traitor,” stammered Thacker.
The Kid arose and, without violence, took Thacker by the throat with a hand of steel, and shoved him slowly into a corner. Then he drew from under his left arm his pearl-handled .45 and poked the cold muzzle of it against the consul's mouth.
”I told you why I come here,” he said, with his old freezing smile. ”If I leave here, you'll be the reason. Never forget it, pardner. Now, what is my name?”
”Er--Don Francisco Urique,” gasped Thacker.
From outside came a sound of wheels, and the shouting of some one, and the sharp thwacks of a wooden whipstock upon the backs of fat horses.
The Kid put up his gun, and walked toward the door. But he turned again and came back to the trembling Thacker, and held up his left hand with its back toward the consul.
”There's one more reason,” he said slowly, ”why things have got to stand as they are. The fellow I killed in Laredo had one of them same pictures on his left hand.”
Outside, the ancient landau of Don Santos Urique rattled to the door.
The coachman ceased his bellowing. Senora Urique, in a voluminous gay gown of white lace and flying ribbons, leaned forward with a happy look in her great soft eyes.
”Are you within, dear son?” she called, in the rippling Castilian.
”_Madre mio, yo vengo_ [mother, I come],” answered the young Don Francisco Urique.
AN OLD-TIME SINGER
BY FRANK L. STANTON
I don't want any hymnbook when the Methodists is nigh, A-linin' out the ol' ones that went thrillin' to the sky In the ol' campmeetin' seasons, when 'twuz ”Glory hallelu!”
An' ”Brother, rise an' tell us what the Lord has done fer you!”
Fer I know them songs so perfect that when I git the swing O' the tune they want to go to I kin shet my eyes an' sing!
”On Jordan's stormy banks,” an' ol' ”Amazin' Grace”--they seem So nat'ral, I'm like some one that's singin' in a dream!
Oh, when it comes to them ol' songs I allus does my part; An' I've got the ol'-time Bible down, as you might say, ”by heart!”
When the preacher says the fust word in the givin' of his text I smile with satisfaction, kaze I know what's comin' next!
The wife says: ”That's amazin'!” an' the preacher says--says he, With lots o' meanin' in his voice, an' lookin' queer at me ”Sence you know more o' the Bible than the best o' us kin teach, Don't you think you orter practice what you're payin' us to preach?”
Well, _that_ gits me in a _corner_--an' I sorter raise my eyes An' the tune about them t.i.tles to the ”mansions in the skies”!
I want the benediction then--I'm ready to depart!