Part 14 (1/2)
Don Ricardo Guzman was an American, but he spoke no English. An accident of birth had made him a citizen of the United States--his father having owned a ranch which lay north instead of south of the Rio Grande. Inasmuch as the property had fallen to Ricardo, his sons, too, were Yankees in the eyes of the law. But in all other respects Don Ricardo and his family differed not at all from the many Guzmans who lived across the border. The Guzman ranch comprised a goodly number of acres, and, since live stock multiply rapidly, its owner had in some sort prospered. On the bank of a resaca---a former bed of the Rio Grande--stood the house, an adobe structure, square, white, and unprotected from the sun by shrub or tree. Behind it were some brush corrals and a few scattered mud jacals, in which lived the help.
Ricardo had just risen from a siesta when his two visitors rode up, and he made them welcome with the best he had. There followed a complimentary exchange of greetings and the usual flow of small talk.
Ricardo had suffered a severe toothache--the same abominable affliction that had lost Porfirio Diaz an empire. It had been a dry spring, but, praise G.o.d, the water still held in the resaca--his two sons were branding calves in one of the outer pastures--and there had been a very good calf crop indeed. Blaze recounted his own doings; Law told of Ranger activities along the lower border. In the cool of the afternoon Ricardo rode with his visitors, and then, cordial relations being now established, he began to divulge information of value to Law.
Yes, he had endured many depredations from thieves. It was shameful, but doubtless G.o.d willed that a certain amount of stealing should go on in the world. The evil-doers were certainly favored by nature, in this locality, for the great expanse of brush country to the north and east offered almost perfect security, and the river, to the south, gave immunity from pursuit or prosecution. The beeves were driven north into the wilderness, but the horses went to Mexico, where the war had created a market for them. The Federals had plenty of money to buy mounts.
Whom did Don Ricardo suspect?
The old man was non-committal. Suspicion was one thing, proof was quite another; and conviction was difficult under the best of circ.u.mstances.
Why, even a cow's recognition of her own calf was not evidence for a court, and alibis were easily proven. Unless the thieves were caught in the very act there was no case against them, and--por Dios!--one could not be for ever on guard. Who could tell where the malefactors would strike next? Now, in Mexico one could afford to kill an undesirable neighbor without so much formality. But, thank G.o.d! Don Ricardo was not a Mexican. No, he was a good American citizen. It was something to make him sleep well in these war-times.
”Just the same, I'll bet he'd sleep better if the Lewis outfit was cleaned up,” Dave ventured, and Blaze agreed.
Guzman caught his enemy's name and nodded.
”Ah! That sin verguenza! He sells arms to the Candeleristas and horses to the Potosistas. Perhaps he steals my calves. Who knows?”
”Senor Lewis doesn't need to steal. He has money,” Jones argued.
”True! But who is so rich that he would not be richer? Lewis employs men who are poor, and he himself is above nothing. I, too, am a friend of the Rebels. Panchito, the Liberator, was a saint, and I give money to the patriots who fight for his memory. But I do not aid the tyrant Potosi with my other hand. Yes, and who is richer, for instance, than Senor Eduardo Austin?”
”You surely don't accuse him of double-dealing with the Rebels?” Blaze inquired, curiously.
”I don't know. He is a friend of Tad Lewis, and there are strange stories afloat.”
Just what these stories were, however, Ricardo would not say, feeling, perhaps, that he had already said too much.
The three men spent that evening together, and in the morning Blaze rode home, leaving the Ranger behind for the time being as Guzman's guest.
Dave put in the next two days riding the pastures, familiarizing himself with the country, and talking with the few men he met. About all he discovered, however, was the fact that the Guzman range not only adjoined some of Lewis's leased land, but also was bounded for several miles by the Las Palmas fence.
It was pleasant to spend the days among the shy brush-cattle, with Bessie Belle for company. The mare seemed to enjoy the excursions as much as her owner. Her eyes and ears were ever alert; she tossed her head and snorted when a deer broke cover or a jack-rabbit scuttled out of her path; she showed a friendly interest in the awkward calves which stood and eyed her with such amazement and then galloped stiffly off with tails high arched.
Law had many times undertaken to break Bessie Belle of that habit of flinging her head high at sudden sounds, but she was nervous and inquisitive, and this was the one thing upon which she maintained a feminine obstinacy.
On the second evening the Ranger rode home through a drizzle that had materialized after a long, threatening afternoon and now promised to become a real rain. Ricardo met him at the door to say:
”You bring good fortune with you, senor, for the land is thirsty.
To-morrow, if this rain holds, we shall ride together--you, Pedro, and I. Those thieves do their stealing when they leave no tracks.”
Raoul, the younger son, volunteered to go in place of his father, but Ricardo would not hear of it.
”Am I so old that I must lie abed?” he cried. ”No! We three shall ride the fences, and if we encounter a cut wire--diablo!--we shall have a story to tell, eh?”
The sky was leaden, the rain still fell in the morning when Dave and his two companions set out. Until noon they rode, their slickers dripping, their horses steaming; then they ate an uncomfortable lunch under the thickest hackberry-tree they could find, after which they resumed their patrol. Ricardo's tongue at length ran down under this discomfort, and the three riders sat their saddles silently, swaying to the tireless fox-trot of their horses, their eyes engaged in a watchful scrutiny.
At last Pedro, who was ahead, reined in and pointed; the others saw where the barbed-wire strands of the fence they had been following were clipped. A number of horse and calf tracks led through the opening, and after an examination Ricardo announced: