The Girl of the Golden West Part 17
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The Mexican rose to his feet and began hesitatingly:
"Geeve me--" He paused; and then, starting with the thought that had come to him, he shot a glance at the dance-hall and called out loudly, rolling his r's even more p.r.o.nouncedly than is the custom with his race: "Aguardiente! Aguardiente!"
"Sit down!" ordered Nick, vaguely conscious that there was something in the greaser's voice that was not there before.
The greaser obeyed, but not until he knew for a certainty that his voice had been heard by his master.
"So you did bring in my saddle, eh, Nick?" asked the road agent, coming quickly, but unconcernedly into the room and standing behind his man.
Up to this time, Nick's eyes had not left the prisoner, but with the appearance on the scene of Johnson, he felt that his responsibility ceased in a measure. He turned and gave his attention to matters pertaining to the bar. As a consequence, he did not see the look of recognition that pa.s.sed between the two men, nor did he hear the whispered dialogue in Spanish that followed.
"_Maestro! Ramerrez!_" came in whispered tones from Castro.
"Speak quickly--go on," came likewise in whispered tones from the road agent.
"I let them take me according to your bidding," went on Castro.
"Careful, Jose, careful," warned his master while stooping to pick up his saddle, which he afterwards laid on the faro table. It was while he was thus engaged that Nick came over to the prisoner with a gla.s.s of liquor, which he handed to him gruffly with:
"Here!"
At that moment several voices from the dance-hail called somewhat impatiently: "Nick, Nick!"
"Oh, The Ridge boys are goin'!" he said, and seeming intuitively to know what was wanted he made for the bar. But before acceding to their wishes, he turned to Johnson, took out his gun and offered it to him with the words: "Say, watch this greaser for a moment, will you?"
"Certainly," responded Johnson, quickly, declining the other's pistol by touching his own holster significantly. "Tell the Girl you pressed me into service," he concluded with a smile.
"Sure." But on the point of going, the little barkeeper turned to him and confided: "Say, the Girl's taken an awful fancy to you."
"No?" deprecated the road agent.
"Yes," affirmed Nick. "Drop in often--great bar!"
Johnson smiled an a.s.sent as the other went out of the room leaving master and man together.
"Now, then, Jose, go on," he said, when they were alone.
"_Bueno!_ Our men await the signal in the bushes close by. I will lead the Sheriff far off--then I will slip away. You quietly rob the place and fly--it is death for you to linger--Ashby is here."
"Ashby!" The road agent started in alarm.
"Ashby--" reiterated Castro and stopped on seeing that Nick had returned to see that all was well.
"All right, Nick, everything's all right," Johnson rea.s.sured him.
The outlaw's position remained unchanged until Nick had withdrawn. From where he stood he now saw for the first time the preparations that were being made for his capture: the red torchlights and white candle-lighted lanterns which were reflected through the windows; and a moment more he heard the shouts of the miners calling to one another. Of a sudden he was aroused to a consciousness, at least, of their danger by Castro's warning:
"By to-morrow's twilight you must be safe in your rancho."
The road agent shook his head determinedly.
"No, we raid on."
Castro was visibly excited.
"There are a hundred men on your track."
Johnson smiled.
"Oh, one minute's start of the devil does me, Jose."
"Ah, but I fear the woman--Nina Micheltorena--I fear her terribly. She is close at hand--knowing all, angry with you, and jealous--and still loving you."
"Loving me? Oh, no, Jose! Nina, like you, loves the spoils, not me. No, I raid on . . ."
A silence fell upon the two men, which was broken by Sonora calling out:
"Bring along the greaser, Dep!"
"All right!" answered the loud voice of the Deputy.
"You hear--we start," whispered Castro to his master. "Give the signal."
And notwithstanding, the miners were coming through the door for him and stood waiting, torches in hand, he contrived to finish: "Antonio awaits for it. Only the woman and her servant will stay behind here."
"Adios!" whispered the master.
"Adios!" returned his man simultaneously with the approach of the Deputy towards them.
It was then that the Girl's gay, happy voice floated in on them from the dance-hall; she cried out:
"Good-night, boys, good-night! Remember me to The Ridge!"
"You bet we will! So long! Whoop! Whooppee!" chorussed the men, while the Deputy, grabbing the Mexican by the collar, ordered him to, "Come on!"
The situation was not without its humorous side to the road agent; he could not resist following the crowd to the door where he stood and watched his would-be captors silently mount; listened to the Sheriff give the word, which was immediately followed by the sound of horses grunting as they sprang forward into the darkness in a desperate effort to escape the maddening pain of the descending quirts and cruel spurs.
It was a scene to set the blood racing through the veins, viewed in any light; and not until the yells of the men had grown indistinct, and all that could be heard was the ever-decreasing sound of rus.h.i.+ng hoofs, did the outlaw turn back into the saloon over which there hung a silence which, by contrast, he found strangely depressing.
VIII.
There was a subtle change, an obvious lack of warmth in Johnson's manner, which the Girl was quick to feel upon returning to the now practically deserted saloon.
"Don't it feel funny here--kind o' creepy?" She gave the words a peculiar emphasis, which made Johnson flash a quick, inquisitorial look at her; and then, no comment being forthcoming, she went on to explain: "I s'pose though that's 'cause I don't remember seein' the bar so empty before."
A somewhat awkward silence followed, which at length was broken by the Girl, who ordered:
"Lights out now! Put out the candle here, too, Nick!" But while the little barkeeper proceeded to carry out her instructions she turned to Johnson with an eager, frank expression on her face, and said: "Oh, you ain't goin', are you?"
The Girl of the Golden West Part 17
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The Girl of the Golden West Part 17 summary
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