He obtained one glimpse within the next mile. He had already noted the pa.s.sing of the last wild jungle. From fields of maize which alternated with sunburned fields of _maguey_ they now rode into an avenue that led on through green cane. Rising far above their heads, the cane marched with them for a half mile, then suddenly opened out around a primitive wooden sugar mill. Under the thatched roof of an open hut half-nude women were stirring boiling syrup in open pans, and at the sight of Francesca one of them came running out to the trail.

"Her baby is to be christened next Sunday," the girl told him as they rode on. "She was breaking her heart because she had no robe. But now she is happy, for I have promised to ask the good _mama_ to lend her mine, which she has treasured all these years."

Soon afterward as they turned out of the cane into a new planting they almost ran down her uncle, who had come out to inspect the work. Only his quick use of the spur averted a collision, and as his own spirited roan sprang sideways Seyd noted with admiration that despite his bulk and age horse and man moved as one. If surprised at the sight of his niece in such company, the old man did not reveal it by so much as the lift of a brow. It was difficult even to perceive the twinkle in his eyes that lightened his chiding.

"_Ola_, Francesca! If there be no respect for thy own pretty neck, at least have pity on my old bones. It is you, senor? Welcome to San Nicolas."

Neither did Seyd's explanation of his business abate his brown impa.s.sivity. If a.s.sumed, his ponderous effort at recollection was wonderfully realistic. "Ah, _si_! Santa Gertrudis? If I remember aright, it was denounced before. Yes, yes, by several--but they had no good fortune. Still, you may fare better. Paulo, the administrador, will attend to the business."

With a wave of the hand, courteous in its very indifference, he put the matter out of his province and displayed no further interest until the girl told of the attack on Seyd. Then he glanced up quickly from under frowning brows.

"You had them whipped? _Bueno!_ The rascals must be taught not to molest travelers. And now we shall ride on that the senor may break his fast.

And thou, too, wicked one, will be late. As thou knowest, it is the only fault the good mother sees in thee."

"Would that it totaled my sins," she laughed. "To escape another black mark I shall have to gallop. _Ola!_ for a race!"

As from a light touch of the spur her beast launched out and away, the roan reared and tried to follow, and while he curbed it back to a walk the old man's heavy face lit up with pleasure. "She rides well. I have not a vaquero with a better seat. But go thou, Tomas, lest she come to a harm. And you, senor, will follow?"

With a vivid picture of the figure Peace would cut in a race occupying the forefront of his mind it did not take Seyd long to choose. After the girl had pa.s.sed from sight behind a clump of tamarinds he took note, as they rode along, of the peons who were laying the field out in shallow ditches wherein others were planting long shoots of seed cane. To his practical engineer's eye the hand-digging seemed so slow and laborious that he could not refrain from a comment.

"It seems to me that a good steel plow would do the work much cheaper."

"Cheaper? Perhaps." After a heavy pause, during which he took secret note of Seyd out of the corner of his eye, the old man went on: "To do a thing at less cost in labor and time seems to be the only thing that you Yankees consider. But cheapness is sometimes dearly purchased.

Come! Suppose that I put myself under the seven devils of haste that continually drive you. What would become of these, my people? Who would employ them? It is true that theirs is not a great wage--perhaps, after all, totals less than the cost of your steel plow and a capable man to run it. We pay only three and a half cents for each ditch, in our currency, and a man must dig twelve a day. If he digs less he gets nothing.

"That does not seem just to you?" He read Seyd's surprise. "It would if you knew them. Grown children without responsibility or sense of duty are they. If left free to come and go, they would dig one, two, three ditches, enough and no more than would supply them with _cigarros_ and _aguardiente_, and our work would never be done. As it is, they dig the full twelve, and have money for other necessities.

"The wage seems small?" Again he read Seyd's mind. "Yet it is all that we can afford, nor does it have to cover the cost of living. Each man has his patch of maize and frijoles, and a run for his chickens and pigs. Then the river teems with fish, the jungle with small game. His wage goes only for drink and _cigarros_, or, if there be sufficient left over, to buy a dress for his woman. They are perfectly content."

Slightly lifting his heavy brows, he finished, looking straight at Seyd: "I am an old Mexican hacendado, yet I have traveled in your country and Europe. Tell me, senor, can as much be said of your poor?"

Now, in preparing a thesis for one of his social-science courses, Seyd had studied the wage scale of the cotton industry, and so knew that, ridiculously small as this peon wage appeared at the first glance, it actually exceeded that paid to women and children in Southern cotton factories. In their case, moreover, the pittance had to meet every expense.

He did not hesitate to answer. "I should say that your peons were better off, providing the conditions, as you state them, are general."

"And they are, senor, except in the south tropics, where any kind of labor is murder. But here? It is as you see; and why disturb it by the introduction of Yankee methods?"

Pausing, he looked again at Seyd, and whether through secret pleasure at his concession or because he merely enjoyed the pleasure of speaking out that which would have been dangerous if let fall in the presence of a countryman, he presently went on: "Therefore it is that I do not stand with Porfirio Diaz in his commercial policies. He is a great man. Who should know it better than I that fought with or against him in a dozen campaigns. And he has given us peace--thirty years of slow, warm peace.

Yet sometimes I question its value. In the old time, to be sure, we cut each other's throats on occasion. In the mean time we were warmer friends. And war prevented the land from being swamped by the millions that overrun your older countries, the teeming millions that will presently swarm like the locusts over your own United States. As I say, senor, I am only an old Mexican hacendado, but I have looked upon it all and seen that where war breeds men, civilization produces only mice. If I be allowed my choice give me the bright sword of war in preference to the starvation and pestilence that thins out your poor."

Concluding, he looked down, interrogatively, as though expecting a contradiction. But though, after all, his argument was merely a restatement of the time-worn Malthusianism, coming out of the mouth of one who had strenuously applied it during forty years of internecine war, it carried force. Maintaining silence, Seyd stole occasional glances at the ma.s.sive brown face and the heavy figure moving in stately rhythm with the slow trot of his horse, while his memory flashed over tale after tale that Peters, the station agent, had told him when he was out the other day to the railroad--tales of bravery, hardy adventures, all performed amidst the inconceivable cruelties of the revolutionary wars. Even had he been certain that the eventual peopling of the earth's vacant places would not force a return to at least a revised Malthusianism, it was not for his youth to match theories with age. When he did speak it was on another subject.

"I have been riding all morning on your land. I suppose it extends as far in the other direction?"

"A trifle." A deprecatory wave of the strong brown hand lent emphasis to the phrase. "A trifle, senor, by comparison with the original grant to our ancestor from Cortes. 'From the rim of the Barranca de Guerrero on both sides, and as far up and down from a given point as a man may ride in a day,' so the deed ran. Being shrewd as he was valiant, my forefather had his Indians blaze a trail in both directions before he essayed the running. A hundred and fifty miles he made of it when he started--not bad riding without a trail. But it is mostly gone by family division, or it has been forfeited by those who threw in their luck on the wrong side of a revolution. Now is there left only a paltry hundred or so thousands of acres--and this!"

For the first time p.r.o.nounced feeling made itself felt through his ma.s.sive reserve, and looking over the view that had suddenly opened, Seyd did not wonder at the note of pride. After leaving the cane they had plunged through green skirts of willow to the river that split the wide valley in equal halves, and from the shallow ford they now rode out on a gra.s.sy plateau that ran for miles along low lateral hills.

Dotted with tamarinds, banyans, and the tall ceibas which held huge leafy umbrellas over panting cattle, it formed a perfect foreground for the hacienda, whose chrome-yellow buildings lay like a band of sunlight along the foot of the hill. The thick adobe walls that bound stables, cottages, and outbuildings into a great square gave the impression of a fortified town, castled by the house, which rose tier on tier up the face of the hill.

When they rode through the great gateway of the lower courtyard the interior view proved equally arresting. Mounting after Don Luis up successive flights of stone steps, they came to the upper courtyard, wherein was concentrated every element of tropical beauty--wide corridors, ma.s.sive chrome pillars, time-stained arches, luxurious foliage. From the tiled roof above a vine poured in cataracts of living green so dense that only vigorous pruning had kept it from shutting off all light from the rooms behind. Left alone, it would quickly have smothered out the palms, orchids, rare tropical plants that made of the courtyard a vivid garden.

"They call it the _sin verguenza_." While he was admiring the creeper Francesca had joined them from behind. "Shameless, you know, for it climbs 'upstairs, downstairs,' nor respects even the privacy of 'my lady's chamber.' Thanks to the good legs of my beast, I escaped a scolding. Sit here where the vines do not obstruct the view."

If Seyd had been told a few minutes before that anything could have become her more than the tan riding-suit he would have refused to believe. But now by the evidence of his own eyes he was forced to admit the added charm of a simple batiste, whose fluffy whiteness accentuated her girlishness. The mad gallop had toned her usual clear pallor with a touch of color, and as she looked down, pinning a flower on her breast, he noted the perfect curve of her head.

"Room for a good brain there," he thought, while answering her observation. "It is beautiful. But don't you find it a little dull here--after Mexico City?"

"No." She shook her head with vigor. "Of course, I like the b.a.l.l.s and parties, yet I am always glad to return to my horses and dogs and--though it is wicked to put them in the same category--my babies.

There are always at least three mothers impatiently awaiting my return to consult me upon names. I am G.o.dmother to no less than seven small Francescas."

"I never should have thought it. You must have begun--"

"--Very young? Yes, I was only fifteen, so my first G.o.dchild is now seven. That reminds me--she is waiting below to repeat her catechism.

There is just time--if you would like it."

"I would be delighted. So the position is not without its duties?"

"I should think not." Her eyes lit with a touch of indignation. "I hold the baby at the christening after helping to make the robe. When they are big enough I teach them their catechism. You could not imagine the weight of my responsibilities, and I believe that I am much more concerned for their behavior than their mothers. If any of them were to do anything really wicked"--her little shudder was genuine--"I should feel dreadfully ashamed. But they are really very good--as you shall judge for yourself. Francesca!" As, with a soft patter of chubby feet, a small girl emerged from a far corner, she added with archness that was chastened by real concern, "Now you must not dare to say that she isn't perfect."

In one sense the caution was needed. After a brave answer to the question "Who is thy Creator, Francesca?" the child displayed a slight uncertainty as to the origin of light, added a week or two to the "days of creation," and became hopelessly mixed as to the specific quant.i.ties of the "Trinity"--wherein, after all, she was no worse than the theologians who have burned each other up, in both senses, in furious disputes over the same question. But better, far better than letter perfection, was the simple awe of the small brown face and the devotion of the lisping voice which followed the tutor's gentle prompting.

"Fine! fine!" Seyd applauded a last valorous attack on the Ten Commandments, and the small scholar ran off clutching a silver coin, just so much the richer for his heretical presence. As he rose to follow his hostess inside he added, "If all the Francescas are equal to sample, the next generation of San Nicolas husbands will undoubtedly rise up and call you blessed."

"Now you are laughing at me," she protested. "Though that might be truly said of my mother. She is a saint for good works. But come, or I shall yet earn my scolding. And let me warn you to take care of your heart.

All of the _caballeros_ fall in love with mother."

It was quite believable. While seated in the dining-room, a vaulted chamber cool as a crypt in spite of the sunblaze outside, a room which would have seated an army of retainers, he observed the senora with the satisfaction that even a stranger may feel in the promise a handsome mother holds out to her girls. In addition to the sweetness of her eyes and her tenderly tranquil expression she had retained her youthful contour. She exhibited the miracle of middle age achieved without fat or stiffness. In her scarf and black lace she was maturely beautiful.

Waving away his apologies for the intrusion, she was anxiously solicitous for his wants through the meal. Yet he noticed that in taking his leave an hour later she did not ask him to call again.

Up to that moment there had been no further mention of his business. But as he stood hesitating, loath to introduce it, Don Luis relieved his embarra.s.sment. "Now you would see the administrador? I am sorry, senor, but it seems that he is away at Chilpancin about the sale of cattle. But if you will intrust your moneys to Francesca she will see to the business and have the papers sent out to the mine."

Neither did Francesca, when saying good-by, ask him to return. But, conscious that with all their kind hospitality they still regarded him as an intruder, Seyd was neither offended nor surprised. He was even a little astonished when Don Luis stated his intention of riding with him as far as the cane.

Until they came to the ford they rode in silence. Though only a few inches deep at this season, the river's wide bed proclaimed it one of those torrential streams which rise from a trickle to a flood in very few hours, and when he remarked upon it Don Luis a.s.sented with his heavy nod.

"_Si_, it is very treacherous. One night during the last rains it rose fifty feet and swept down the valley miles wide, bearing on its yellow bosom cattle, houses, sheep, and pigs, and it drowned not a few of our people. And each year the floods go higher. Why? Because of the cursed l.u.s.t that would mint the whole world into dollars. Year by year your Yankee companies are stripping the pine from the upper valley, and, though I have spoken with Porfirio Diaz about it, he is mad for commerce. He would see the whole state of Guerrero submerged before he revoked one charter. And they even try to make me a party to it.

'General, if you will grant us a concession to do this, that, the other?

If you will only allow us to run a branch line into your pine we can make big money--guarantee you half a million pesos.' When I am in Mexico your Yankee promoters swarm round me like hungry dogs. But never have I listened, nor ever will!"

He struck the pommel of his saddle a heavy blow, then looked his surprise as Seyd spoke. "I should not think that you would. I understand your feelings."

"You do? _Caramba!_ Then you are the first Yankee that ever did. In return for your sympathy let me offer you advice. You are not the first man to denounce on my land, nor is Santa Gertrudis the only location.

Yankees, English, French, Germans, they have come, denounced claims here and there, but no man has ever held one. No man ever _will_. Already you have tasted the bitter hostility of my people, and were I to nod not even the American Amba.s.sador could save you alive. And this is only the beginning. Let me return your money? Mexico is one great mine. Anywhere you can kick the soil and uncover a fortune."

"But none like the Santa Gertrudis." Seyd smiled. "Of course, I feel it's pretty raw for me to force in on your land; but, knowing that if I don't some other will, I shall have to refuse. As for the opposition--that is all in the day's work." He finished, offering his hand. "But I hope this won't prevent us from being good neighbors?"

Shaking his ma.s.sive head, Don Luis reined in his horse. "No, senor, we can never be that. But next to a good friend I count a hearty enemy, and you may depend upon me for that."

With a courteous wave of the hand he rode off; and, watching him go at a stately canter, Seyd muttered, "Enemy or friend, you are a fine old chap."