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"A friend of mine?" in surprise.
"Sure; you're a friend o' Jim Westcott, ain't yer? Lacy said so, and Jim's the laddy-buck who whaled me."
"Mr. Westcott! When?"
"Last night. You see it was this way. I caught him hanging round the office at La Rosita, an' we had a fight. I don't just know what I did to him, but that's part o' what he did to me. I never knowed much about him afore, but he's sure some sc.r.a.pper; an' I had a knife in my fist, too."
"Then--then," her breath choking her, "he got away?"
Moore laughed, no evidence of animosity in his actions.
"I reckon so, miss. I ain't seen nuthin' of him since, an' the way Bill Lacy wus cussing when I got breathin' straight agin would 'a'
shocked a coyote. He'll git him, though."
"Get him?"
"Sure--Bill will. He always gets his man. I've seen more'n one fellow try to put something over on Lacy, but it never worked in the end.
He's h.e.l.l on the trigger, an' the next time he and Bill come together, Westcott's bound to get his. Ain't that the truth, Joe?"
Sikes nodded his head, a gleam of appreciation in his eyes.
"I'd like fer to see the sc.r.a.p," he said slowly. "They tell me Westcott ain't so slow on the draw--but Bill will get him!"
The sun rose a red ball of fire, colouring the ridges of sand, and painting the grotesque rocks with crimson streamers. As it ascended higher into the pale blue of the sky the heat-waves began to sweep across the sandy waste. In the shadow of a bald cliff the wagon was halted briefly, and the two men brought forth materials from within, making a hasty fire, and preparing breakfast. Water was given the team also, before the journey was resumed; while during the brief halt the girl was left to do as she pleased. Then they moved on again, surrounded by the same drear landscape, the very depression of it keeping them silent. Sikes nodded sleepily, his head against a wagon bow. Once Moore roused up, pointing into the distance with one hand.
"What do yer make o' that out thar?" he asked sharply. "'Tain't a human, is it?"
Sikes straightened up with a start, and stared blankly in the direction indicated. Apparently he could perceive nothing clearly, for he reached back into the wagon-box, and drew forth a battered field-gla.s.s, quickly adjusting it to his eyes. Stella's keener vision made out a black, indistinct figure moving against the yellow background of a far away sand-ridge, and she stood up, clinging to Moore's seat, to gain a better view. Sikes got the object in focus.
"Nothin' doing," he announced. "It's travellin' on four legs--a b'ar, likely, although I never afore heard of a b'ar being in yere."
They settled down to the same monotony, mile after mile. The way became rockier with less sand, but with no more evidence of life. A high cliff rose menacingly to their right, bare of the slightest trace of vegetation, while in the opposite direction the plain a.s.sumed a dead level, mirages appearing occasionally in the far distance. Far away ahead a strange b.u.t.tress of rock rose into the sky resembling the turret of a huge castle. The sun was directly overhead when Moore turned his team suddenly to the left, and drove down a sharp declivity leading into a ravine.
"Drop the canvas, Joe," he said shortly, "there's only 'bout a mile more."
CHAPTER XVIII: IN MEXICAN POWER
The pa.s.sage was so narrow, and so diversified by sharp turns, that Miss Donovan, shut in behind the closed cover, could perceive little of its nature. Apparently the ravine was a mere gash in the surface of the desert plain, to be originally discovered purely through accident. One might pa.s.s a hundred yards to either side, and never realise its existence, the hard rock, covered by a thin layer of sand, retaining no trace of wheel-marks in guidance. How Moore had ever driven so unerringly to the spot was a mystery. Yet he had done so, and now the team was slowly creeping down the narrow ledge utilised as a road, the slipping wheels securely locked, as they drifted here and there about the sharp corners, ever descending into the unknown depths.
The cliffs arose precipitously on either side, absolutely bare. To the left nothing could be seen but black rock, but on the other side an open s.p.a.ce yawned, perhaps twenty feet across, its bottom imperceptible. The horses stumbled over the rough stones, held only by Moore's firm grip on the reins, and the light began to fade as they descended. At last nothing appeared above but a narrow strip of sky, and the glimmer of sun had totally vanished. Almost at the same moment the driver released the creaking brake, and at a trot the wagon swept forward between two pinnacles of rock, and came out into an open valley.
The transition was so sudden and startling as to cause the girl to give utterance to a cry of surprise. She had been clinging desperately to the seat in front, expecting every instant to be hurled headlong.
Intense fear gripped her and it seemed as if every drop of blood in her veins stood still. The change was like a leap into fairy land; as though they had emerged from the mouth of h.e.l.l into the beauty of paradise. They were in a green, watered valley, a clear stream wandering here and there through its centre, shadowed by groves of trees. All about, as far as eye could reach, stood great precipices, their bold, rugged fronts rising hundreds of feet, unbroken, and unscalable; the sun directly above bathed these with showers of gold, and cast a blanket of colour across the sheltered valley.
This valley itself was nearly square, possibly extending not over a mile in either direction, merely a great hole rimmed by desert, a strange, hidden oasis, rendered fertile and green by some outburst of fresh water from the rocks. Emerging upon it in midst of the barren desolation through which they had been toiling for hours, blinded by alkali dust, jolted down that dangerous decline, it seemed like some beautiful dream, a fantasy of imagination.
Miss Donovan doubted the evidence of her own eyes, half convinced that she slept. It was Moore's voice which aroused her.
"Mendez must have got back, Joe," he said eagerly. "There are horses and cattle over yonder."
The other pushed up the canvas and looked out.
"That's right. Must just got here, or there'd 'a' been a guard up above. The fellow is comin' now--see?"
He was loping along carelessly, Mexican from high hat to jingling spurs, sitting the saddle as though moulded there, a young fellow, dark faced, but with a livid scar along one cheek.
"Juan Cateras, the little devil," muttered Sikes, as the rider drew nearer. "There's some pot brewing if he is in it."
The rider drew up his horse, and lifted his hat, his smiling lips revealing a row of white teeth.
"A pleasant day, _senor_," he said graciously, his dark eyes searching the faces of the two men, and then dwelling with interest on the woman.
"Ah, your pardon, _senorita_; your presence is more than welcome here."
He rested one hand on the wagon box, the expression of his face hardening. "Yet an explanation might not be out of place--the Senor Mendez may not be pleased."
"We came under orders from Lacy," replied Moore confidently. "You have seen us both before."
"True, but not the lady; you will tell me about her?"
Sikes climbed down over the wheel.
"It is like this, _senor_," he began. "Lacy did not know your party was here; he thought you were all south for another month yet. He would keep this girl quiet, out of the way for a time. She is from New York, and knows too much."
"From New York?" The quick eyes of the Mexican again sought her face.
"She is to be held prisoner?"
"Yes, _senor_."
"Again the case of that man Cavendish?"
"We were not told, only ordered to bring her here and guard her until we heard otherwise. It was not known you were back."
"We came three hours ago; you see what we brought," with a wave of the hand. "All was clear above?"
"Not a sign; I searched with field-gla.s.ses."
"Then I will ride with you to Mendez; 'tis well to have the matter promptly over with."
The wagon, rumbled on, Moore urging the wearied team with whip and voice to little result. Sikes remained on foot, glad of the change, striding along in front, while the Mexican rode beside the wheel, his equipment jingling, the sunlight flas.h.i.+ng over his bright attire. He made a rather gallant figure, of which he was fully conscious, glancing frequently aside into the shadow beneath the canvas top to gain glimpse of its occupant. At last their eyes met, and he could no longer forbear speech, his English expression a bit precise.
"Pardon, _senorita_, I would be held your friend," he murmured, leaning closer, "for it is ever a misfortune to incur the enmity of Senor Lacy.
You will trust me?"
"But," she ventured timidly, "I do not know you, _senor_; who you may be."
"You know Senor Mendez?"