The Delafield Affair Read online

  CHAPTER VII

  TALK OF MANY THINGS

  Golden prided itself upon being "the most American town in theTerritory," but for all its energy and progressiveness it had notdeveloped an ordinary regard for its own safety. After the mines whichhad given it birth had been worked out, it became the depot of suppliesfor the widespread miles of cattle country in the plains below, themining regions in the mountains above, and the ranches scattered alongthe streams within a radius of fifty miles. As its importance increaseda railway sought it out, the honor of being the county seat cameto it, and the ruthless Anglo-Saxon arrived in such numbers and soenergetically that its few contented and improvident Mexicans, thrust toone side, sank into hopeless nonentity. When Lucy Bancroft first setupon it the pleased eyes of youthful interest and filial affection, itwas a busy, prosperous place of several thousand souls.

  But it still clung to the gulch wherein had been the beginning of itslife and fortune. All the houses of its infancy had been built along thestream that sparkled down from the mountains, and there the town hadtried to stay, regardless of the floods that occasionally swept down thecanyon during the Summer rains. At first its growth had been up and downthe creek; afterward cross streets had been extended far out on eitherside, especially where gradual hill slopes gave easy grades, and roadshad also been made lengthwise along the hillsides and even on theircrests, where now a goodly number of homes looked out over the plainsand down upon the town-filled valley at their feet.

  Newcomers gazed curiously at the high sidewalks, raised on postsabove the level of the thoroughfares, asking why, if there was suchpossibility of flood, the people continued to live and do business alongthe bottom of the gulch. The residents thought the walled sidewalksrather a good joke, a humorous distinction, and laughed at the idea ofdanger.

  Lucy Bancroft's eyes grew wide and solemn as she listened to the taleDan Tillinghurst told her of the first year he was in Golden, yearsbefore, when a mighty torrent roared down the gulch, carried away mostof the houses, and drowned a dozen souls. "But the very next day," headded proudly, "the people began rebuildin' their houses on theidentical sites from which they had been swept."

  "Why didn't they rebuild on higher ground?" Lucy asked. "And aren't youafraid there will be another flood that will destroy all these housesand perhaps kill a great many people?"

  "Oh, there's no danger now," he assured her confidently. "The climate'schangin'. There's not nearly so much rain as there used to be. The creekis dry half the time nowadays, and in my first years here it never wentdry at all. Just look at these flood-marks," and he pointed out to heron the side of the brick building that housed her father's bank thelines to which had risen the high waters of each Summer. She saw thatthose of recent years were all very low. "Yes," he assured her, "theclimate's changin', there's no doubt of that. There won't be any morefloods."

  Between Lucy and the Sheriff a mutual admiration and good-fellowship hadarisen, such as might exist between an elephant and a robin. The dayafter her arrival Tillinghurst had told Bancroft that his daughter was"the prettiest piece of dry goods that had ever come to Golden, and ifhe ever let her pull her freight he'd sure deserve nothin' less thantarrin' and featherin' at the hands of an outraged community."

  Notwithstanding her confidence in the big Sheriff, Lucy did not likethe idea of living in the gulch, and persuaded her father to buildtheir home on the brow of the _mesa_ overlooking the town from the west.She had no definite fear of the floods nor, after her first few weeks inthe place, did she so much as think of danger from such a source. Sheliked the site on the _mesa_, although it was new and raw and treeless,because it commanded a far-reaching view, to the mountains on the westand north and, in front, across the town and the valley to the wide graylevel of the plains.

  She sat on the veranda of her new home with Miss Louise Dent, tellingher friend what pleasure she was taking in its arrangement anddirection. "At first daddy didn't want me to do it. He thought it wouldbe too much care and responsibility for me, and that we'd better board.But I said if a girl eighteen years old wasn't old enough and bigenough to begin to take care of her father she never would be, and so hegave up. And now! Well, you'll see how he enjoys our home! He just beamswith happiness every time he comes into the house. And I'm perfectlyhappy. Daddy is so good, and it's such a pleasure to make things niceand comfortable for him!"

  "I'm so glad," Miss Dent replied, "that you are happy here with him. Hehas had so many years of lonely wandering. And I know that he has longbeen looking forward to the time when you and he could have a hometogether. Your father hasn't had an easy life, dear. You could neverguess all that he has been through. But he is a strong and determinedman, and he's finally won success--just as I always knew he would.That's what I admire in him so much--that he never would give up." Shestopped, a faint flush mounting to her brow. Lucy threw both arms aroundher neck and kissed her.

  "Of course, Dearie," she exclaimed, "you must appreciate my father, foryou've known him so long; but it makes me love you all the more to hearyou say so--and oh, Dearie, I'm going to make such a beautiful home outof this place!" Lucy looked about, her girlish face glowing with proudand pleased proprietorship. "I know how new and barren it looks now, butjust wait till I've been at work at it for a year!"

  She went on to speak of her plans, asking Miss Dent's advice. In theback-yard the gaunt wings of a big windmill gave a touch of ultra modernpicturesqueness and promised the fulfilment of the girl's hope of a lawnand flowers, trees and shrubbery, in the near future. A littleconservatory jutted from the southern side of the house, while a deepveranda ran halfway across the eastern front and around the other twosides. The neutral, gray-green color of the structure melted into thehue of the hills and the surrounding _mesa_, leaving its barren newnessless aggressive.

  As they talked Lucy now and then cast a lingering glance down the streetthat climbed the hill from the town below, and Miss Dent thought thatsometimes a shade of disappointment dimmed the bright face for aninstant. She was twenty years Lucy's senior, although both looks andmanner gave the lie to the fact. The loving friendship between them wasone of those unusual ties between a younger and an older woman which,when they do occur, are apt to be marked by an overflowing measure ofenthusiasm and loyalty. Louise Dent had been the intimate friend ofLucy's mother and, after her death, had given the bereaved girl suchlove and care and sympathy as had won her instant and ardent devotion,and the relationship thus established had grown stronger and closeras the years passed and Lucy matured into womanhood. The girl'senthusiastic affection had enabled her to find in Louise Dent intimatefriend, elder sister, and mother combined. This complicated feelingmaking it impossible for her to address the elder woman by either formaltitle or first name, she had soon settled upon "Dearie" as a substantiveterm expressing their relationship, and "Dearie" Miss Dent had been toher ever since, whether between themselves or among her own intimatefriends.

  As the shadows grew longer and the hot white sunlight became less vivid,Lucy seemed to grow restless. She rose and moved about the veranda, orran down into the yard and back upon some trivial errand, each timestopping on the steps to send an inquiring eye down the street.Standing there, when the afternoon was far spent and the fierce westerlywind had ebbed into a gentle breeze, she pointed out to Louise thestatuesque sapphire mass of Mangan's Peak against the turquoise blue ofthe eastern sky, and told her of the drive thither and back she and herfather had taken a fortnight before, and of their call at SocorroSprings ranch. "It's an interesting place," she went on; "such a hugeranch! Why, its grazing rights extend more than a hundred miles south,away across the Mexican border. Father knows the superintendent verywell, and we'll get him to drive us out there some day." A higher colorrose in her cheeks; she quickly turned away, drew her chair well back,and sat down. "There's Mr. Conrad, the superintendent, coming up thehill now!" she exclaimed. "Daddy told me at luncheon that he was intown."

  Lucy bore her new role of hostess with a dignity so easy and graciou
sthat it surprised Louise, and made Conrad think her more attractive thanever. Bancroft came a little later, and Curtis was urged to stay todinner. Lucy showed him in her conservatory the collection of cactusplants she had begun to make and listened with eager interest while hegave her information about the growth of the species she already had,and told her where she could find others less common. She was anxious tohave his opinion whether it would be possible to make a hedge ofmesquite to replace the wooden paling around the yard; he did not know,but offered to help her try the experiment.

  They dined on the side veranda, where Lucy, with the help of a screen ortwo and some plants from her green-house, had contrived an out-of-doorsdining-room. The high spirits of the two younger people dominated theconversation, as they jested and bantered, laughed, and crossed wits inlittle wordy sword-plays that called forth applause and encouragementfrom the others. Lucy sparkled and dimpled, and her color rose, whileCurtis's eyes darkened and flashed. Miss Dent, watching them, realizedwhat an attractive young woman Lucy had grown to be, and how much shehad blossomed out even in the few months since their last parting. "Shewill have plenty of admirers," the older woman thought, with a littletwinge at her heart. Still, she was very young, and it would be a longtime yet before she would think of marriage. But--if she were to marryand leave her father--he would be very lonely--perhaps--and then shefelt her cheeks grow warmer, and hastened to resume her part in theconversation.

  Louise was pleased with Conrad's face. It seemed full of character, withits broad brow, tanned cheeks, large nose, and well-set chin. She notedespecially the strong, firm jaw and chin, saying to herself that theybetokened a strength of will and constancy of purpose that foretoldsuccess in whatever he might undertake. He was amusing them with anaccount of the feud between the wives of the Castleton brothers.

  "But don't the men take up the quarrels of their wives," Louise asked,"or allow any feeling to come between them?"

  "Not in the least; nor does there seem to be any ill-feeling between theladies. They are always good friends, and the men look upon the wholething as a good joke. If Mrs. Turner, for instance, cooks up some newscheme for getting the better of Mrs. Ned, she tells her husband aboutit, he tells Ned, and they laugh over it and make bets about which willwin."

  Lucy was interested in the Castleton ladies. Conrad said that Mrs.Turner Castleton was considered a great beauty, but that he liked Mrs.Ned, who was half Mexican, much the better and thought her the moreinteresting and charming. She asked if they ever visited the ranch."Yes," said Curtis; "Ned and his wife come up for a few days everySpring. This year they'll be there after the round-up is over and thecattle shipped. Would you like to meet them? All right, we'll arrangeit. While they are there I'll get up a barbecue and a _baile_, and asksome people. You and Miss Dent and your father must all come."

  The American in the Southwest, arrogant and contemptuous as theAnglo-Saxon always is when brought face to face with a difference inrace, a difference in ideals, or a difference in speech, regards theSpanish language with frank disdain and ordinarily refuses to learn it.But where the Mexicans are present in large numbers, as in New Mexico,he adopts from the other's language a good many words which soonsupplant their English equivalents. An evening party of any sort,whether a public dance in the town hall, a select affair in the house ofa prominent resident, or a gathering in the Mexican quarter, is alwaysa "_baile_," a thriftless, insignificant person of either race a"_paisano_," while upon "_coyote_" the American has seized with readytongue, applying it to any creature, human or other, for which he wishesto express supreme contempt.

  Miss Dent had to have _baile_ explained to her, and their talk driftedto the subject of the Mexican people. Bancroft told her the story of thebold theft of Conrad's mare, the chase and capture of Melgares, and thewounding of Gaines. "It is thought that poor Jack cannot live," he saidin conclusion, "and the Mexican is held in jail to await the result. Ifhe dies the fellow will be tried for murder."

  "I've heard a queer story about Melgares," said Conrad, and went on totell how the Mexican had lost his little ranch. Lucy listenedattentively, with indignant eyes fixed on Curtis's face.

  "How shameful!" she broke out. "What a detestable way of getting money!The poor Mexicans! Just think of their being turned out of their homesin that way, with nothing to fall back on! I don't wonder poor Melgaresbecame a thief--but he ought to have gone to Santa Fe and stolen Mr.Baxter's horses!"

  Bancroft's eyes were fixed on his plate. Had the others been watchinghim closely they would have seen no more than a flicker of his eyelidsas his face took on a stony impassiveness. But they were looking at Lucywho, with head erect, face flushed, and eyes sparkling, made a prettypicture.

  "I'm glad you feel that way, Miss Bancroft," Curtis exclaimed, his facealight with approval and admiration. "I think myself it's about asdespicable a way of getting money legally as man ever devised. Baxterknows when he loans the money that the poor wretches will never be ableto pay back a cent of it. He wouldn't loan it to them if he thought theycould, for it's their land he's after. I've heard that he's gettingcontrol in this way of a big tract in the Rio Grande valley and that heintends to form a company, advertise it through the East, and sell theland, which is really valuable, at big prices."

  "Well, I think it's a shameful piece of business, and I'm surprised thatMr. Baxter is engaged in it!" said Lucy with decision.

  "Before you condemn him so severely, daughter," interposed Bancroft, hiseyes still lowered, "you should remember that the business of the loanmortgage companies has the full sanction of law and custom, and thatmany of the most reputable business men of the United States haveengaged in it."

  "I can't help it, daddy, if all the Congressmen and lawyers and businessmen, and preachers too, in the United States are engaged in it--thatdoesn't make it right. Somehow it seems a different matter with thesepoor Mexicans, they are so helpless. Why, it's almost like stealingtheir homes. I'm sorry, daddy, to speak so about Mr. Baxter, but that'sreally the way I feel about it; I suppose he doesn't realize what aninjury he's doing them. Oh, daddy," and she leaned forward eagerly, herface flushing, "you and he are such good friends, maybe you could tellhim what harm he's doing and persuade him to give up that part of hisbusiness!"

  Conrad smiled grimly. "It's plain, Miss Bancroft," he said, withoutwaiting for her father to reply, "that you are not intimately acquaintedwith Dell Baxter. I'm sorry about this Melgares business, for I can'thelp feeling a sort of responsibility. If the fellow is hung his familywill be left destitute. Yes, he has a wife and four children," hecontinued in answer to Miss Dent. "I had a talk with him about theaffair, and he asked me to send for his family for him. He had moneywith which to pay their fares, though where he got it probably wouldn'tbear too close an inquiry."

  Lucy was looking at him eagerly, her face full of sympathy. "The poorthings!" she exclaimed. "When they come you must let me know, Mr.Conrad."

  Bancroft abruptly changed the subject, and presently the talk drifted toa story that had just come out about the postmaster at Randall. "It's acharacteristic New Mexican tale," said Curtis, turning to the ladies."You'll soon find out, Miss Bancroft, if you don't know it already, thatthe cowboy song of 'What was your name in the States?' can often beapplied in earnest."

  "Confound the fellow," thought Bancroft irritably, "why is he alwaysharping on that subject!"

  "This is a particularly audacious case, though--don't you think so,Aleck?" Curtis went on. "Here this man has been living for several yearsin Randall, a respected citizen, holding office, with influence in thecommunity, when, behold, it is discovered that just before coming herehe had skipped from some town in Missouri, where he was postmaster, withall the money in his office and another man's wife. But his sin hasfinally found him out."

  "It always does," observed Lucy coolly.

  Louise Dent was conscious of a fluttering in her throat and realizedthat her heart was beating loudly. The moment's pause that followedseemed to her so long that she rushed int
o speech, without thought ofwhat she said: "I'm afraid it does."

  "Why do you say 'afraid,' Dearie?" asked Lucy, with surprise. "Isn't itright that it should?"

  Louise made brief and noncommittal reply and Bancroft hurriedly askedCurtis how the round-up was getting on.

  "Well, we've got the thing started, and are ready to move the cattle onthe north part of the range toward Pelham. We'll begin shipping withintwo or three weeks. But something seems to have struck the cowboy marketthis year; I've been short of hands all the Spring."

  "Perhaps I can give you some help," said Bancroft. "A Mexican from upNorth has been to me looking for work. He came the day you had thechase after Melgares and was in again to-day. He has worked for Baxter,and Dell says he is an expert cowboy and sure to give satisfaction."

  "He must be an unusual sort of greaser if he's looking for work,"laughed Conrad. "If he's that sort, I guess he'll strike my gait."

  They found the Mexican sitting on the steps of the front veranda whenthey finished dinner.

  "Why," exclaimed Curtis with hearty interest, "he's the same chap thattold me my mare was stolen. I hope you can ride and throw a rope; I'mobliged to you already, and I'd like to do you a good turn. I'll meetyou down town presently, and if you know anything about the businessI'll take you behind me on my mare to the ranch to-night, and you can goto work in the morning."

  The moon had just risen, and its huge white disk seemed to be resting onthe plain only a little way beyond the town. Its brilliant silvery lightwas already working weird transformations in the landscape.

  "Oh, are you going to ride home to-night, through this wonderfulmoonlight!" Lucy exclaimed. "How I envy you!"

  "Yes," he answered, lowering his voice and speaking in a tone differentfrom any she had before heard from his lips; "and it is indeed awonderful ride! I don't know anything more impressive than the landscapeof this country under a marvellous moon, like that over there. I hope wecan have a ride by moonlight together, some time, when the moon is full.Does Miss Dent ride?" His voice went back to its usual tone. "I knowyour father is a fine rider. Perhaps we can make up a party some night,when I don't have to hurry home. I expect my brother here this Summer,to spend his vacation with me. You and Miss Dent will like him, I'msure, for he's a fine lad. I hope we can all have some pleasantexcursions together."

  At the sound of his softened voice Lucy felt herself swept by suddenemotion, and hastily put her hands behind her lest he should see thatthey were trembling. And later that night, when she looked out from herwindow at the white moon floating in the violet sky, suddenly her nerveswent a-quiver again and her eyes sought the far, dim plain as she softlywhispered, "Under a marvellous moon, like that over there!"

  The Mexican asked Bancroft how to reach the place where Conrad was tomeet him, and the banker walked to the gate and pointed out the streetshe was to follow. As he finished Gonzalez bent a keen gaze upon him andasked, significantly, "Has the senor further instructions for me?"

  Bancroft's start and the shade of annoyance that crossed his face as herealized that it had been noticed were not lost upon the man, whosesearching look was still on him. His equanimity had been well triedalready that evening, and this sudden touch upon a half-formed and mostsecret desire startled him for an instant out of his usual self-control.Heretofore he had merely dallied with the thought that Conrad's removalwould mean his own safety, for the rest of his life. It had appeared tohim merely as something the consequences of which would be desirable.His hand could not be concerned in it, he wished to know nothing aboutit--but if Baxter thought best--to further his own ends--why had theMexican come to him with this impudent question?

  "I'm not hiring you," was his curt answer.

  "Certainly not, senor," the man answered calmly, his head erect, hisarms folded, and one foot advanced. The trio on the veranda noted andlaughed over his attitude. Lucy said he looked like a hero of melodramataking the limelight. Miss Dent added that he was handsome enough for amatinee idol, and Conrad declared that there was no telling how manysenoritas' hearts he had already broken. Bancroft turned to go back tothe house, but paused an instant, and the Mexican quickly went on in asoftly insinuating voice: "But if the senor should wish to say anythingparticular? Don Dellmey thought it might be possible."

  Bancroft lingered, flicking the ashes from his cigar. "I--I know nothingabout it," he blurted out, uncertainly. "If Don Dellmey had anything tosay to you I suppose he said it."

  As he turned away he heard the man say gently, "Thank you, SenorBancroft. I shall not forget our talk." There was no reply, and theMexican, whistling a Spanish love tune, disappeared down the hill in theweird mixed lights of the fading day and the brilliant moon.

  Alone on the veranda, Alexander Bancroft walked restlessly to and fro,stopping now and again as if to listen to the music from within, whichhe did not hear, or to look at the moonlit landscape, which he did notsee. Over and over he was saying to himself that he had no idea whatDellmey Baxter had said to this Mexican, and, whatever it was, he haddistinctly told the creature that he knew nothing about it. The man hadcome to him recommended as an expert cowboy, he had passed therecommendation on to Conrad, and that was all there was about it.

  Nevertheless, he knew he had reason to believe--the Congressman hadintimated as much in his letter--that the man who called himself JoseGonzalez was in reality Liberato Herrara, guilty of at least one murderand probably of others, whom Baxter's legal skill had saved from thegallows. Curtis had said that he should carry the man behind him to theranch that night. Before Bancroft's inward eye a sudden vision opened:wide miles of silent plain, a great white moon hanging low in the sky, along stretch of deserted road, and then two men on a single horse--andthe light gleaming on a long knife! He shuddered as the blade flashed,and turned his face away from the plain. Then, as there came to him asudden sense of tremendous relief, with breath and thought suspended heturned slowly, fascinatedly, and with greedy eyes searched the distantplain, as if eager to find in it some proof, at last, of his own safety.

  Lucy's voice rose in a gay little song above the piano and fell upon hisears. With a deep, long-drawn breath his thought leaped out and seizedupon all that freedom from Curtis Conrad's pursuit would mean for him.Jose Gonzalez would sink out of sight, and Liberato Herrara would beback in his own home, unsuspected and silent. Some excitement wouldfollow, search would be made, a body would be found in a mesquitethicket,--and then the interest would die out, and there would be onlyanother grewsome tale of mystery to be added to the hundreds alreadytold through the Southwest. And he--Alexander Bancroft--would besafe--secure in fortune and reputation and the love and honor of hisdaughter as long as they should live.

  The music within ceased and Lucy's voice rippled out in girlishlaughter. His heart sank as he seemed to hear again her hot denunciationof Baxter's loan and mortgage operations. "I'll sell out to Dell andshe'll never know I've had anything to do with it," he thought. Thenthere came ringing through his memory, as he had heard them so manytimes since they rode home from the Socorro Springs ranch, herpassionate words, "He must have been a wicked man," and "I should hatehim, with all my strength," and again his longing face turnedimpulsively toward the plain.

  "I'd kill him myself, rather than let her find out," he whispered, withteeth set. "And a man has got to protect himself out here!" his urgentthought went on. "I'll be a fool if I don't stop him before he gets hischance at me!" With a sudden stirring of conscience he remembered thatthis man whose death he was so ardently desiring was his friend andtrusted his friendship. "I--I don't want him stuck in the back," hemuttered. "I might warn him. He may not have started yet."

  He walked uncertainly toward the veranda steps. There was a flutter ofwhite drapery and Lucy was laying an affectionate hand on his arm. "Oh,daddy dear," she coaxed, "won't you come in and try this duet with us?Dearie will play the accompaniment for us to sing. She brought it to me,and I'm dying to try it."

  "Yes, if you wish it, daughter," the banker replied, hesit
ation in hisvoice, "but I was thinking of going down town." He saw the shade ofdisappointment that crossed her face, and drew her hand into his arm."It doesn't matter," he went on, "and I would rather stay at home." Tohimself he said as they moved to the door, "Conrad has gone by thistime, and, anyway, I've no reason to think this Mexican intends to dohim any harm."