Part 11 (1/2)

”Yes, 'mi General,” Jose exclaimed, eagerly, ”I am here.”

Longorio scrutinized the horse-breaker critically. ”Your name is--?”

”Jose Sanchez.”

”You look like a brave fellow.”

Jose swelled at this praise, and no doubt would have made suitable answer, but his employer held out her hand, and General Longorio bent over it, raising it to his lips.

”Senora, one favor you can grant me. No! It is a right I shall claim.”

He called one of his subordinates closer and ordered that a lieutenant and six soldiers be detached to act as an escort to Mrs. Austin's party. ”It is nothing,” he a.s.sured her. ”It is the least I can do. Have no uneasiness, for these men are the bravest of my command, and they shall answer with their lives for your safety. As for that teniente--ah, he is favored above his general!” Longorio rolled his eyes. ”Think of it! I could be faithless to duty--a traitor to my country--for the privilege he is to enjoy. It is the sacred truth!

Senora, the hours will drag until I may see you again and be of further service. Meanwhile I shall be tortured with radiant dreams. Go with G.o.d!” For a second time he bowed and kissed the hand he held, then, taking Jose Sanchez intimately by the arm, he turned to the door.

Dolores collapsed into her seat with an exclamation. ”Caramba! The man is a demon! And such eyes. Uf! They say he was so furious at losing those two sisters I told you about that he killed the soldier with the very weapon--”

Dolores was interrupted by Longorio's voice beneath the open window.

The general stood, cap in hand, holding up to Alaire a solitary wild flower which he had plucked beside the track.

”See!” he cried. ”It is the color of your adorable eyes--blue like a sapphire gem. I saw it peeping at me, and it was lonely. But now, behold how it smiles--like a star that sees Paradise, eh? And I, too, have seen Paradise.” He placed the delicate bloom in Alaire's fingers and was gone.

”Cuidado!” breathed Dolores. ”There is blood on it; the blood of innocents. He will burn for a million years in h.e.l.l, that man.”

Longorio made good his promise; soon a grizzled old teniente, with six soldiers, was transferred as a bodyguard to the American lady, and then, after some further delay, the military train departed. Upon the rear platform stood a tall, slim, khaki-clad figure, and until the car had dwindled away down the track, foreshortening to a mere rectangular dot, Luis Longorio remained motionless, staring with eager eyes through the capering dust and the billowing heat waves.

Jose Sanchez came plowing into Alaire's car, tremendously excited.

”Look, senora!” he cried. ”Look what the general gave me,” and he proudly displayed Longorio's service revolver. Around Jose's waist was the cartridge-belt and holster that went with the weapon. ”With his own hands he buckled it about me, and he said, 'Jose, something tells me you are a devil for bravery. Guard your mistress with your life, for if any mishap befalls her I shall cut out your heart with my own hands.'

Those were his very words, senora. Caramba! There is a man to die for.”

Nor was this the last of Longorio's dramatic surprises. Shortly after the train had got under way the lieutenant in command of Alaire's guard brought her a small package, saying:

”The general commanded me to hand you this, with his deepest regard.”

Alaire accepted the object curiously. It was small and heavy and wrapped in several leaves torn from a notebook, and it proved to be nothing less than the splendid diamond-and-ruby ring she had admired.

”G.o.d protect us, now!” murmured Dolores, crossing herself devoutly.

VIII

BLAZE JONES'S NEMESIS

Blaze Jones rode up to his front gate and dismounted in the shade of the big ebony-tree. He stepped back and ran an approving eye over another animal tethered there. It was a thoroughbred bay mare he had never seen, and as he scanned her good points he reflected that the time had come when he would have to accustom himself to the sight of strange horses along his fence and strange automobiles beside the road, for Paloma was a woman now, and the young men of the neighborhood had made the discovery. Yes, and Paloma was a pretty woman; therefore the hole under the ebony-tree would probably be worn deep by impatient hoofs. He was glad that most of the boys preferred saddles to soft upholstery, for it argued that some vigor still remained in Texas manhood, and that the country had not been entirely ruined by motors, picture-shows, low shoes, and high collars. Of course the youths of this day were nothing like the youths of his own, and yet--Blaze let his gaze linger fondly on the high-bred mare and her equipment--here at least was a person who knew a good horse, a good saddle, and a good gun.

As he came up the walk he heard Paloma laugh, and his own face lightened, for Paloma's merriment was contagious. Then as he mounted the steps and turned the corner of the ”gallery” he uttered a hearty greeting.

”Dave Law! Where in the world did you drop from?”

Law uncoiled himself and took the ranchman's hand. ”h.e.l.lo, Blaze! I been ordered down here to keep you straight.”