Part 32 (2/2)

It was late when Austin arrived. Visitors at Las Palmas were unusual at any time; hence the sound of strange voices in the brightly lighted living-room at such an hour surprised him. He came tramping in, booted and spurred, a belligerent look of inquiry upon his bloated features.

But when he had met his wife's guests his surprise turned to black displeasure. His own sympathies in the Mexican struggle were so notorious that Longorio's presence seemed to him to have but one possible significance. Why Paloma Jones was here he could not imagine.

Thus far Alaire's caller had succeeded in ignoring Miss Jones, and now, with equal self-a.s.surance, he refused to recognize Ed's hostility. He remained at ease, and appeared to welcome this chance of meeting Austin. Yet it soon became evident that his opinion of his host was far from flattering; beneath his politeness he began to show an amused contempt, which Alaire perceived, even though her husband did not. Luis Longorio was the sort of man who enjoys a strained situation, and one who shows to the best advantage under adverse conditions. Accordingly, Ed's arrival, instead of hastening his departure, merely served to prolong his stay.

It was growing very late now, and Paloma was frantic. Profiting by her first opportunity, she whispered to Alaire ”For G.o.d's sake, send him away.”

Alaire's eyes were dark with excitement, ”Yes,” said she. ”Talk to him, and give me a chance to have a word alone with Ed.”

The opportunity came when Austin went into the dining-room for a drink.

Alaire excused herself to follow him. When they were out of sight and hearing her husband turned upon her with an ugly frown.

”What's that Greaser doing here?” he asked, roughly.

”He called to pay his respects. You must get him away.”

”_I_ must?” Ed glowered at her. ”Why don't you? You got him here in my absence. Now that I'm home you want me to get rid of him, eh? What's the idea?”

”Don't be silly. I didn't know he was coming and--he must be crazy to risk such a thing.”

”Crazy?” Ed's lip curled. ”He isn't crazy. I suppose he couldn't stay away any longer. By G.o.d, Alaire--”

Alaire checked this outburst with a sharp exclamation: ”Don't make a scene! Don't you understand he holds over fifty thousand dollars' worth of La Feria cattle? Don't you understand we can't antagonize him?”

”Is that what he came to see you about?”

”Yes.” She bit her lip. ”I'll explain everything, but--you must help me send him back, right away.” Glancing at the clock, Alaire saw that it was drawing on toward midnight; with quick decision she seized her husband by the arm, explaining feverishly: ”There is something big going on to-night, Ed! Longorio brought a guard of soldiers with him and left them at our pump-house. Well, it so happens that Blaze Jones and Mr. Law have gone to the Romero cemetery to get Ricardo Guzman's body.”

”WHAT?” Austin's red face paled, his eyes bulged.

”Yes. That's why Paloma is here. They crossed at our pumping-station, and they'll be back at any time, now. If they encounter Longorio's men--You understand?”

”G.o.d Almighty!” Austin burst forth. ”Ricardo Guzman's body!” He wet his lips and swallowed with difficulty. ”Why--do they want the body?”

”To prove that he is really dead and--to prove who killed him.” Noting the effect of these words, Alaire cried, sharply, ”What's the matter, Ed?”

But Austin momentarily was beyond speech. The decanter from which he was trying to pour himself a drink played a musical tattoo upon his gla.s.s; his face had become ashen and pasty.

”Have they got the body? Do they know who shot him?” he asked, dully.

”No, no!” Alaire was trembling with impatience. ”Don't you understand?

They are over there now, and they'll be back about midnight. If Longorio had come alone, or if he had left his men at Sangre de Cristo, everything would be all right. But those soldiers at Morales's house will be up and awake. Why, it couldn't have happened worse!” ”How many men has he got?” Austin nodded in the direction of the front room.

”I don't know. Probably four or five. What ails you?”

”That--won't do. They won't--fight on this side of the river.

They--they'd hold them off.”

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