The Treasure Trail Part 27

The other three riders were a half mile ahead and he had no idea of joining them on the trail. It occurred to him there was a possible chance of taking a short cut over the point of the mesa and beating them to the home ranch. There was an even chance that the rougher trail would offer difficulties in the dark, but that was up to the sorrel and was worth the trial.

The bronco took the mesa walls like a cat, climbed and staggered up, slid and tumbled down and crossed the level intervening s.p.a.ce to the corral as the first sound of the others came beating across the sands.

A dark little figure arose by the corral bars and reached for the horse as he slipped from the saddle.

"Quickly, Tulita!" he said, stripping saddle and bridle from its back, "one instant only to make ourselves as still as shadows under the walls of the house."

Fast as he ran, she kept pace with him to the corridor where Isidro waited.

"All is well," he said briefly to the old man. "Clodomiro comes safe with the senora, and the man who would steal her was shot and lost his gun. All has gone very well."

"Thanks to G.o.d!" said the old Indian. "The stealing of women has ever been a danger near, but luck comes well to you, senor, and it is good to be under the protection of you."

"Open the door and show a light of welcome," said Kit. "Call your wife and let all be as planned by us. I will be in the shadows, and a good gun for safety of the woman if needed, but all will work well, as you will see."

The three riders came up to the portal before dismounting, and Valencia went forward, while Isidro held high a blazing torch, and Clodomiro dismounted quickly, and offered help to the woman.

"My grandmother has all for your comfort, senora," he said, "will it please you to descend?"

The man swung from the saddle, awkwardly nursing his right arm.

"Yes this is a safe place, Dona Jocasta," he declared. "It is all well arranged. With your permission I may a.s.sist you."

He offered his left hand, but she looked from him to Valencia, and then to Clodomiro.

"You are young to be a stealer of women;--the saints send you a whiter road!" she said. "And you may help me, for my shoulder has a hurt from that first shot of the comrade of this man."

"No, senora," stated her captor, "the evil shot came from no comrade of mine. They did not follow us, those bandits--accursed be their names! They were hid in the canoncita and jumped our trail. But have no fear, Dona Jocasta, they are left behind, and it will be my pleasure to nurse the wounds they have made."

"Be occupied with your own," she suggested pointing to his hand from which blood still dripped, "and you, mother, can show me the new prison. It can be no worse than the others."

"Better, much better, little dove," said Marto, who followed after the two women, and glanced over their shoulders into the guest chamber of the iron bars, "it is a bird cage of the finest, and a nest for harmonies."

Then to Valencia he turned with authority, "When you have made the senorita comfortable, bring the key of the door to me."

"_Si_, senor," said Valencia bending low, and even as the prisoner entered the room, she changed the key to the outside of the door.

Marto nodded his approval and turned away.

"Now this s.h.i.+rt off, and a basin of water and a bandage," he ordered Isidro. "It is not much, and it still bleeds."

"True, it does, senor, and the room ordered for you has already the water and a clean s.h.i.+rt on the pillow. Clodomiro, go you for a bandage, and fetch wine to take dust out of the throat! This way, senor,--and may you be at home in your own house!"

Unsuspecting, the amorous Marto followed the old man into the room prepared. He grunted contemptuous satisfaction at evidences of comfort extending to lace curtains hanging white and full over the one window.

"It is the time for a s.h.i.+rt of such cleanness," he observed, with a grin. "_Jesusita!_ but the sleeve sticks to me! Cut it off, and be quick to make me over into a bridegroom."

The old man did as he was bidden, and when Clodomiro brought in a woven tray covered with a napkin from which a bottle of wine was discernible, Marto grinned at him.

"It is a soft nest you found for me, boy," he said appreciatively, "and when I am capitan I will make you lieutenant."

"Thanks to you, senor, and hasten the day!"

Clodomiro a.s.sisted his grandfather, and stood aside at the door respectfully as the old man pa.s.sed out with his primitive supply of salves and antiseptics, and only when all need of caution was ended the boy smiled at the would-be Lothario, and the smile held a subtle mockery as he murmured, "The saints send you a good night's sleep, senor, and a waking to health--and clearer sight!"

"h.e.l.l and its blazes to you! why do you grin?" demanded the other setting down the bottle from which he had taken a long and grateful drink, but quick as a cat the boy pulled the door shut, and slipped the bolt on the outside, and laughed aloud.

"Not this night will you be bridegroom for another man's wife, senor!"

he called. "Also it is better that you put curb on your curses,--for the lady has a mind for a quiet night of sleep."

Marto rushed to the curtained window only to find iron bars and the glint of a gun barrel. Isidro held the gun, and admonished the storming captive with the gentle fatalism of the Indian.

"It is done under orders of the major-domo, senor. There is no other way. If your words are hard or rough to the ears of the lady, there is a bullet for you, and a hidden place for your grave. This is the only word to you, senor. It is given me to say."

"But--G.o.ds, saints, and devils--hearken you to me!" stormed the man.

"This is a fool's joke! It can't go on! I must be back at sunrise--_I must!_"

"You will see many suns rise through these bars if the padrone so pleases," murmured Isidro gently. "That is not for us to decide."

"To hottest h.e.l.l with your padrone and you! Bring him here to listen to me. This is no affair of a man and a woman,--curse her witch eyes and their green fires! There is work afoot,--big work, and I must get back to Soledad. You know what goes over the trail to Soledad,--every Indian knows! It is the cache of ammunition with which to save the peon and Indian slave,--you know that! You know the revolutionists must get it to win in Sonora. A trap is set for tomorrow, a big trap!

I must be there to help spring it. To you there will be riches and safety all your life for my freedom--on the cross I will swear that.

I----"

"Senor, nothing is in my power, and of your traps I know nothing. I am told you set a trap for a lady who is in grief and your own feet were caught in it. That is all I know of traps," said Isidro.

Kit patted the old man on the shoulder for cleverness, even while he wondered at the ravings of the would-be abductor. Then he crept nearer the window where he could see the face of the prisoner clearly, and without the overshadowing hat he had worn on entrance. The face gave him something to think about, for it was that of one of the men who had ridden up to the Yaqui spring the day he had found Tula and Miguel in the desert. How should this rebel who rode on secret trails with Ramon Rotil be head man at Soledad for Rotil's enemy? And what was the trap?

"Look well at that man, Isidro," he whispered, "and tell me if such a man rode here to Mesa Blanca with General Rotil."

"No such man was here, senor, but this man was foreman at Soledad before the Deliverer came over the eastern range to Mesa Blanca. Also the general and Don Jose Perez are known as enemies;--the friend of one cannot be the friend of another."

"True enough, Isidro, but that does not help me to understand the trap set. Call your wife and learn if I can see the Dona Jocasta."

Tula had crept up beside them, and touched him on the arm.

"She asks for you, and sadness is with her very much. She watches us in fear, and cannot believe that the door is open for her."

"If that is her only trouble we can clear it away for her, _p.r.o.nto_,"

he stated, and they entered the patio.

"It is not her only trouble, but of the other she does not speak.

Valencia weeps to look at her."

"Heavens! Is she as bad looking as that?"

"No, it is another reason," stated the girl stolidly. "She is a caged humming bird, and her wings have broken."

Kit Rhodes never forgot that first picture of their kidnaped guest, for he agreed with Clodomiro who saw in her the living representation of old biblical saints.

The likeness was strengthened by the half Moorish drapery over her head, a black mantilla which, at sound of a man's step, she hurriedly drew across the lower part of her face. Her left arm and shoulder was bare, and Valencia bent over her with a strip of old linen for bandage, but the eyes of Dona Jocasta were turned half shrinking, half appraising to the strange Americano. It was plain to her that conquering men were merely the owners of women.