CHAPTER XXVII

CULVERA RECONSIDERS

Spurred by Daisy Ellington, the star of the border Lunar Company had kept the wires hot with messages to "the old man" in New York. To do him justice the president of the company rose to the occasion as soon as it was impressed upon his mind that Threewit and the others were in serious danger. He telegraphed for Lennox to meet him in Washington and hurried to the Capitol himself to lay the case before the senior Senator from New York, a statesman who happened to be under political obligations to him.

The Arizona congressional delegation was called into conference and an appointment made to meet the President of the United States. As soon as Lennox reached the city, he was hurried to the White House, where he told the story before the President and the Secretary of State.

The case called for prompt action. Instructions were wired to Captain Girard, stationed with his company at Bisbee, Arizona, to act as a special envoy from the President to General Pasquale.

Girard, with a corporal, two saddle-horses, and a pack-horse, entrained at once. Four hours later he was dropped at a tank station, from which point he and the corporal struck straight into the barren desert. The glare of the afternoon sun was slanting down upon them when they started. Their shadows grew longer as they rode. The sun, a ball of fire, dropped below the distant horizon edge and left a sky of wonder to drive a painter to despair.

The gold and crimson and purple softened as the minutes pa.s.sed. The distant ridges were no longer flamed with edgings of fire. A deep purple predominated and was lightened presently to a velvet violet haze. Then the stars came out, close and cold and innumerable.

Still Girard rode, taking advantage of the cool breath of night. Toward morning he stopped at a sand-wash where three or four dusty cottonwoods relieved the vegetation of mesquite, palo verde, and cacti. Among the rocks a spring rose hesitant to the surface and struggled faintly for life against the palpitating heat and thirsty drought of the desert.

The corporal hobbled the horses. The men stretched themselves in the sand and fell into deep sleep. It was noon when they awoke. They ate, lounged in such shade as the cottonwoods offered from the quivering heat, and waited till mid-afternoon. Having saddled and repacked, they struck again across the dreary roll of sandhills and washes. When Noche Buena lay at their feet the sun was low in the sky.

Into the dusty main street of the village the two men rode at a walk. A sentinel with a rifle stopped them. Girard explained that he wanted to see Pasquale.

"He is dead--shot by a Gringo who has gone to h.e.l.l already. And another Gringo will be shot when the sun falls below the hills, and perhaps another to-morrow. Who knows? You, too, may pay for the death of the Liberator," jeered the sentry.

"Pasquale dead--and shot by an American?" asked the captain in surprise.

"As I have said. But General Culvera killed the dog in his tracks. Ho, Manuel! Call an officer. A Gringo wants to see the general," he shouted to a barefoot trooper crouched in the shade of an adobe house.

Girard explained to the officer that he was a messenger from the President of the United States. He and the corporal were searched and their arms removed.

The Mexican officer apologized. "Since Pasquale was murdered, we take no chances," he explained. "You understand I do not at all doubt you are what you say. But we search all strangers to make sure."

After Culvera had glanced over the credentials of Girard, he was all suavity. "I offer you a hundred welcomes; first for yourself, as an officer of the army of our sister Republic, and second as an envoy from your President, for whom I have a most profound respect. But not a word of your mission until we have dined. You will want first of all a bath after your long dusty trip. May I offer you my own quarters for the present till arrangements can be made?"

Captain Girard bowed. "You are very kind, general. Believe me, I appreciate your courtesy. But first I must raise one point. I have been told that an American is to be executed at sunset, which is almost immediately. You will understand that as a representative of the United States it is necessary that I should investigate the facts."

Swiftly Culvera considered. If the American officer had arrived an hour later, Yeager would have been safely out of the way. How had he discovered already that an American was to be shot? Was it worth while denying it? But what if Girard insisted on seeing the execution? What if he asked to see Yeager? Ramon's glance swept the obstinate face of the captain. He decided it better to acknowledge the truth.

"It is to me a matter of profound regret," he sighed. "The man enlisted in our army as a spy, disguised as a peon. He is guilty of the murder of one of our men in a gambling-house. He attempted to kill General Pasquale a short time ago. He was undoubtedly in league with the man Holcomb, the a.s.sa.s.sin of our great general. He shot Major Ochampa, but fortunately the major is recovering. The man is a border ruffian of the worst stamp."

"May I talk with him, general?"

"But certainly--if the man is still living," a.s.sented the Mexican.

The American officer looked straight at Ramon. His steady eyes made no accusation, mirrored no suspicion. Culvera could not tell what he was thinking. But he recognized resentfully a compulsion in them that he could not safely ignore.

"With your permission I should like to talk also with Miss Seymour and the two moving-picture men," said Captain Girard.

The Mexican adventurer announced a decision he had come to that very instant, one to which the inconvenient arrival of the envoy from the President of the United States had driven him.

"I am making arrangements to have them all three taken safely back to Arixico. Between you and me, captain, old Pasquale was something of a savage. It is my purpose to win and hold the friendship of the United States. I don't underestimate Pasquale. He was my friend and chief. He made a free Mexico possible. But he was primitive. He did not understand international relations. He treated the citizens of your great country according to his whims. That was a mistake. I shall so act as to win the approval of your great President."

"I am very glad to hear that. The surest foundation upon which you can build for a free Mexico is justice for all, general. And now, if I may see Yeager."

A messenger was sent to bring the prisoner. He found an officer with a firing party already crossing the plaza to the place of execution. The prisoner was bareheaded, ragged, unkempt. His arms were tied by the elbows behind his back. But the spirit of the unbeaten spoke in his eyes and trod in his limping step.

"The general wishes to see the prisoner," explained the messenger to the officer.

The party wheeled at a right angle, toward the headquarters of Culvera.

Steve thought he understood what this meant. Culvera had sent for him to gloat over him, to taunt him. The man wanted to hear him beg for his life. The teeth of the cowpuncher clenched tightly till the muscles of the jaw stood out like ropes. He would show this man that an American did not face a firing squad with a whine.

At sight of the captain of cavalry sitting beside Culvera the heart of Yeager leaped. The long arm of Uncle Sam had reached across the border in the person of this competent West Pointer. It meant salvation for Ruth, for his friends, possibly even for himself.

"Captain Girard wants to ask you a few questions," Culvera explained.

Without waiting for questions Yeager spoke. "Do you know that an American girl is held prisoner here, captain,--that Pasquale was driving her to a forced marriage when Holcomb shot him to save her?"

Girard turned toward the general, a question in his eyes.

Ramon shrugged his shoulders. "I told you Pasquale was a barbarian. The trouble is he was a peon. He took what he wanted."

"Her name is Ruth Seymour. She's a fine girl, captain. You'll save her, of course, and see that she gets home," continued Steve.

"I have the promise of General Culvera to see her and your friends safe to Arixico," replied Girard.

"You'll ride with them yourself all the way," urged the prisoner.

"No doubt. But, of course, the word of General Culvera--"

"--Is worth what it is worth," Yeager finished for him.

"The man stands in the shadow of death. Let him say what he likes," said the Mexican contemptuously to the officer beside him.

"You are charged with being a spy, Mr. Yeager. I am told you were captured in disguise after having plotted to help prisoners escape,"

said Girard.

Yeager nodded quietly. "Technically I am a spy. I came here to try to save Miss Seymour and my friends. The attempt failed and I was captured."

"Are you a spy in the sense that you were in the employ of the enemies of General Pasquale and his armies?"

"No. Culvera understands that perfectly well. I came only to look out for my friends."

Girard knew what manner of man Yeager was. He intended to save his life if it could be done. This would be possible only if Culvera could be made to feel that it would cost too much to punish him.

"It is claimed that you attempted the life of General Pasquale once."

"Nothing to that. I was a prisoner, condemned to be shot in the morning.

He came to my cell and offered me my life if I would knife Culvera in the back. I couldn't see the proposition. But I got a chance, knocked him down, tied him up, and slipped out in his serape. Then I made my getaway on the horse he had left for me in case I came through with the knifing."