Part 32 (1/2)

”_Por le Capitan despues le Gobernador_,” he whispered. ”_p.r.o.nto!_”

The captain's anger and suspicion at so unceremonious an entry slowly faded, but he did not lower the sword. The Delaware slid forward, abject and fearful, his eyes riveted on the clumsy blade, the paper held out at arm's length. ”_Por le Capitan_,” he muttered. ”_p.r.o.nto!_”

”You son of swine!” growled Salezar. ”You sc.u.m! Is this the way you enter an officer's house? How did you pa.s.s the sentry? A score of lashes on both your backs will teach you manners and him his duty. Give me that message and stand aside till I call the guard!”

”_Perdon, Capitan! Perdon, perdon!_” begged the Delaware. ”_Le Gobernador_--” his hands streaked out, one gripping the sword wrist of the captain, the other fastening inexorably on the greasy, swarthy throat well up under the chin. As the grips clamped down the Delaware's knee rose and smashed into the Mexican's stomach. The sword clattered against a wall and the two men fell and rolled and thrashed across the floor.

”Where _is_ she?” grated the Indian as he writhed and rolled, now underneath and now uppermost. ”Where _is_ she, you murdering dog?”

They smashed against the flimsy table and overturned it, candle, liquor and all. The candle flickered out and the struggle went on in the darkness.

”Where _is_ she, Salezar? Yore in th' hands of a _Texan_, you taker of ears! Where _is_ she?”

Salezar was no weakling and although he had no more real courage than a rat, like a rat he was cornered and fighting for his life; but Captain Salezar had lived well and lazily, as his pampered body was now showing evidence. Try as he might he could not escape those steel-like fingers for more than a moment. With desperate strength he broke their hold time and again as he writhed and bridged and rolled, clawed and bit; but they clamped back again as often. His shouts for help were choked gasps and the strength he had put forth in the beginning of the struggle was waning.

The table was now a wreck and they rolled in and over the debris.

Salezar made use of his great spurs at every chance and his opponent's clothing was ripped and torn to shreds wet with blood. His fingers searched for his enemy's eyes and missed them, but left their marks on the painted face. They rolled against one wall and then back to the other; they slammed again at the door and back into the wreckage of the table.

”Where _is_ she?” panted the Delaware. ”Tell me, Salezar, _where is she_?”

The captain wriggled desperately and almost gained the top, and thought he sensed a weakened opposition. ”Where she will remain!” he choked.

”Mistress of the _palacio_--until he tires--of her. You--cursed _Tejano_ dog!” He drove a spur at his enemy's side, missed, and it became entangled in the rags.

The Delaware, blind with fury, smashed his knee into the soft abdomen and snarled at the answering gasp of pain. ”Remember th' prisoners? Near Valencia--Ernest died in the--night. You cut off his ears--and threw his body in a--ditch!” He got the throat hold again in spite of nails and teeth, blows and spurs. ”McAllister was shot because he--could not walk.

You stole his clothes--cut off his ears and left--his body at th' side of th'--road for the wolves!” He felt the spurs graze his leg and he threw it across the body of the Mexican. ”Golpin was shot--other side of Dead Man's Lake. You took--_his_ ears _too_!” He hauled and tugged and managed to roll his enemy onto his other leg. ”On th' Dead Man's Journey--Griffin's brains were knocked out with a--gun b.u.t.t. _His_ ears were cut off, _too_!” Hooking his feet together he clamped his powerful thighs in a viselike grip on his enemy. ”Gates died in a wagon near--El Paso, of starvation, sickness--an' fright. You got _his_--ears!”

”As--I'll get--_yours_!” hoa.r.s.ely moaned Salezar, again missing with the spurs. ”The senorita will be happy--in Armijo's arms. After that--the soldiers--can have her!”

The Delaware loosened his leg grip, jerked them up toward the captain's stomach as he hauled his victim down toward them, and clamped them tight again over the soft stomach.

”Yore lies stick--in yore throat--Salezar!” he panted. ”An' those murders cry--to heaven; but you'll only--hear th' echoes ringin' through h.e.l.l--for all eternity. _You_ called th' roll of th' livin'--on that d.a.m.nable march; _I_'m--callin' th' roll of th' _dead_! Yore name comes last! There's many a Texan would give his--chance of heaven to change places--with me, _now_!” He raised his head in the darkness. ”Oh, Ernest, old pardner; I'm payin' yore debt, _in full_!”

The spurs stabbed in vain, for the Delaware was now well above their flaying range; the nails scoring his face were growing feeble. He s.h.i.+fted the leg hold again and managed to imprison one of Salezar's arms in their grip. Lifting himself from the hips, he released the throat hold and grabbed the Mexican's other arm, thrust it under him and fell back on it as his two hands, free now to work their worst, leaped back under the swarthy chin. The relentless thumbs pressed up and in.

The Blackfoot on guard at the end of the driveway thought he heard the door open and close, but there was no doubt about the labored breathing which wheezed along the dark wall. Stumbling steps faltered and dragged and then the Delaware b.u.mped into him and held to him for a moment.

”Git th' hosses, Hank!” came a mumbled command.

”Thar with Jim an' Zeb,” whispered the hunter in surprise. ”How'd ye get so wet? Is that blood?”

”Spurred me--I'll be all right--soon's I git breath. He--fought like a--fiend.”

”Git his ears?” eagerly demanded the Blackfoot.

”Thar's been ears enough took--already. Come on; _she's_ in th'

_palacio_--with _Armijo_!”

”Jest what we figgered, _d.a.m.n him_!” growled the Blackfoot, leading the way.

In the stable at the rear of the courtyard a decrepit dog, white with age, had barked feebly when its breath permitted, while the fight had raged in the house. The Blackfoot had considered stopping the wheezy warnings, but they did not have power enough to lure him from his watch.