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Jim threw cool water on the wound. "Is it very bad?" he asked.
"It's sure attracting my attention, Jim."
"Can I do anything?"
"Yes, next time you're falling around don't use my laigs--they're private. Whar is this place?"
Jim looked up at a window-gap, high in the 'dobe wall, and saw the starlight checkered with iron bars; then listening, he heard a muttering of Spanish talk, and noticed the door of the cell lined out with a glimmer from the guardroom.
"It smells bad, like a trap," said Curly.
"I wonder," says Jim, "what time they feed the animals? I'm starving."
"My two sides," says Curly, "is rubbing together, and I'm sure sorrowful. We done got captured somehow."
"I remember now. They gave us coffee. They must have been Frontier Guards--so this is La Morita."
"Why did they gather us in? We didn't spoil any greasers."
"No, but we fired the gra.s.s."
"It was not their gra.s.s--we set fire to Arizona."
"I don't think they mind," says Jim, "whose gra.s.s we burned. They've got us, and they won't worry about the details. You see, they've got to make a play at being useful, old chap, or else their Government would get tired and forget to send their wages."
"What will they do to us?"
"Keep us three days to cool, then find us guilty, and send us down to Fronteras."
"I remember," says Curly, "when I was riding that year for Holy Cross I saw----"
"The little wayside crosses?"
"Yes, everywhere on the Mexican side of the line--the little wooden grave signs by the trail."
Curly and Jim sat there in the dark, and thought of the wooden crosses.
They understood, but I believe it's up against me to explain for folks who don't know that country. You see, there used to be only two industries in old Mexico, silver mining and stealing, but most of the people made a living by robbing each other. Then the great President Diaz came along, who had been a robber himself. He called up all the robbers he'd known in the way of business, and hired them as a sort of Mounted Rangers and Frontier Guards to wipe out the rest of the thieves.
That made the whole Republic peaceful, but when there were no more robbers to shoot, the Rangers and Guards began to feel monotonous, the country being plumb depleted of game.
Well, thanks to Diaz, Mexico has gone so tame that life ain't really worth living, and the Frontier Guards are scared of being disbanded because they're obsolete. Likewise the Mexican people are so humane that they don't allow capital punishment, and the Guards feel a heap discouraged about what few prisoners they catch. They're fearful pleased if they get a thief who doesn't happen to be their own cousin, most especially if he's a white man, real game and in season. That's why they lash him hands and feet to a horse, trot him off into the desert, and take pot shots at him by way of practice. Afterwards they report him for 'attempted escape.' His relations are allowed to bury him comfortable, and put up a cross to his memory. That is why the trails along the Mexican frontier are all lined with neat little crosses.
"You reckon," says Curly, "that we'll have little crosses?"
"It's beastly awkward," says Jim, "but we've got to take our medicine."
"And yet I dunno," says Curly, thoughtful about those crosses; "if we get spoilt that way, the United States won't be pleased. You see, there's a reward out for me, and yo're wanted bad, so Uncle Sam will be asking Mexico, and say, 'Why did you shoot my meat?'"
The voices in the guardroom had quit muttering, but now a horseman pulled up at the front door.
"_Buenas noches hombre!_"
And somebody answered: "_Buenas tardes senor!_"
Then talk began in Spanish. "Can a feed of corn be bought here for the horse? He arrives from Grave City."
"What news of the gringoes?"
"_Muchos._ El Senor Don Rex has been shot."
"Don Rex has been murdered?"
"No, it was a fight. It must be understood that his son, Don Santiago----"
"What, El Chico?"
"Yes, El Chico 'Jim,' had a feud against the very rich Senor Ryan. He hired ladrones from the north, the Robbers' Roost Gang it is called, to murder Senor Ryan. It seems the ladrones wore masks, and they were led by a young robber named Curly, for whom great rewards are offered--two thousand pesos d'oro, dead or alive."
"What a reward!"
"Yes, El Chico and this Curly led the robbers, and they attacked Senor Ryan in the 'Sepulchre' saloon. El Chico killed Senor Ryan himself, and wounded Miguel his son. There are many witnesses, and a warrant is out against Don Santiago for that murder. I saw the warrant."
"But you say Don Rex was killed?"
"He also; many others were killed in the battle. Curly shot Louisiana and another also. Then these ladrones escaped from the city."
"But the population!"
"You judge well, corporal--the population followed. There was riding!"
"And yet these ladrones escaped?"
"So, except El Chico and Curly, the two leaders. The posse caught them near Las Salinas."
"And got the great reward--two thousand pesos d'oro!"
"But wait. These two caballeros would not submit, but fought and killed a lot more citizens; yes, even escaped. They reached the iron-way which runs down towards Bisley, and there again they fought terribly. Then the big posse chased them clear through to the boundary-line."
"They were not caught!"
"They fired the desert!"
"Car-r-amba!"
"Yes, stampeded a hundred riders! You must have seen the fire at dawn this morning."
"Todos Santos! That was El Chico Santiago disguised as a _vaquero_?"
"Yes, and Curly as a farm boy--you saw them?"