Over the Border Part 28

"No, but I can ride behind you in the Mexican fashion. Stop, while I change."

He would have preferred it as it was, but when, after mounting behind him, she slid her arm about his waist, he had to concede the Mexican habit its own delights. It was surely nice of her to allow him to cover her hand.

"The young people," she explained, "are not allowed to do this-only husbands and wives."

"Poor young people!" he pitied. "But, on the whole, quite right. It would never do to have them cavorting over the country like this; too much of a strain on the conventions. Indeed, I think we ought to conform ourselves at once."

"How?" Just as if she hadn't known what he meant.

"Let's ride into San Carlos, get a license from the jefe and be married at once?"

The bold proposal drew only a soft laugh. "To think that, up to a week ago, he didn't even see me-except as part of the scenery. No, amigo, till to-morrow we are to be ordinary persons. Then I shall go and tell Ramon."

"And if he refuses?"

"I shall break it myself."

It was in his mind to say that she could not go alone. But he remembered that Ramon would probably arrive at Los Arboles before she started. He turned again to the delightful present.

"And after that?"

A little pressure at his waist made answer.

Reaching behind, he drew her other arm forward till her hands clasped in front, then squeezed his own elbows down tight over hers. Thus, oblivious once more of the toiling billions, revolutionists beyond the mountain's loom, they rode forward again in that illumined dream, two foolish, happy souls at loose in the spheres.

XXV: LOVE AND BUSINESS

In those days of raids and "requisitions," the customary oversight of the herds on the Chihuahua _haciendas_ had grown of necessity into a system of patrols. At Los Arboles not a day pa.s.sed without Gordon and the Three describing a circle around the _hacienda_.

Riding south after the others left, Bull had covered only a few miles before he spied a lone horseman topping a distant ridge. As the rider drew near the first indefinite outlines resolved into the square, hard figure of William Benson. Scarcely a week had pa.s.sed without a visit from the Englishman. From the first he had accorded Bull the respect due to his quiet strength. Later, this had developed into a real liking which showed in the smile that wiped out, for the moment, his native harshness.

"Heard the news? The Carranzistas have given Valles a lovely tr.i.m.m.i.n.g.

He didn't stop running till he reached El Oro."

Bull's black brows rose. "We'd allus allowed Valles could whip twice his weight in Carranzistas. So long as they keep on killing one another off, we sh'd worry."

Nodding, Benson went on. "Valles lost heavily in horses, and is looking for fresh mounts. One of his colonels came to my place yesterday and offered me a thousand pesos apiece for all I have."

"_Gold?_"

Benson's big mouth split in a sardonic grin. "Valles money, amigo, beautifully printed on butcher paper. He must have used up all the newspaper stocks in northern Mexico."

"And you sold?"

"I'd cut their throats first. It may come to that, but just now I see a way-if not to pull even, at least to avoid complete loss. Between us we can pretty nearly equip Valles with fresh mounts. The beggar has gold-hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions, in the El Paso banks, and my idea is for us, you representing Lee, to go down to El Oro and offer him all that we have for a low price in gold on condition that he permit us to drive our other stock across the line. If he accepts, we then go out of business till order is restored."

"Fine idea!" Bull added. "Could you let Mrs. Mills in on it? She was telling last night she didn't know where to turn for living expenses."

Benson heartily agreed. "Only too glad!"

"And when do you start?"

"To-morrow night. There's a freight going down."

"All right. Pity you hadn't come earlier. Mrs. Mills left only a couple of hours ago. But I'll ride over this afternoon, get her written authority, then meet you at the railroad."

Riding back to Los Arboles, they perfected their plans. They were, indeed, in sight of the buildings before Benson switched the conversation to Lee. Her oldest and stanchest friend, it was his right to know, and Bull told all, from his plotting with the widow down to the disastrous ending in the sudden engagement.

"The little spitfire!" Benson grinned. "h.e.l.lo! What's that?"

It was Lee's horse galloping down a distant slope toward the _hacienda_.

In that wild country a riderless beast generally bespoke tragedy.

Without a word they galloped off in the direction from which the beast had come; rode at top speed until Benson, who had gained a lead, suddenly reined in.

A bunch of chaparral intervened, at first, between Bull and the object at which the other was pointing. Then, rising in his stirrups, he saw Lee and Gordon on the one horse; at least in Bull's sight it was a horse. In that of the lovers, horses, plains, _haciendas_, and other commonplaces of ordinary existence had vanished, leaving them unconscious of time and s.p.a.ce, proceeding magically through the aforesaid illumined dream.

Perhaps some touch of their feeling wirelessed across the intervening s.p.a.ce, for Benson's harshness melted, delight burst like sunlight through Bull's truculence.

"That's too good to spoil," Benson whispered. "Let them go by."

They had pa.s.sed over the next ridge before Bull spoke. "I tol' you Mrs.

Mills could do it. She's a right smart woman."

"A fine woman!" Benson echoed. "I don't know what you are thinking about. Now if I were single--" He burst out laughing at Bull's blush.

Instantly it was drowned in brighter scarlet. But this faded as Bull noted the kindly twinkle in the other's eye. He shook his head in deprecation.

"What c'd a nice woman do with a bear like me?"

"That's her business. I'm not denying that it would some job." Benson critically surveyed Bull's great bulk. "But if there's anything in the world a woman loves it is making a man over, like an old dress. After she finishes, she generally realizes that she's spoiled the material and wishes him back as he was. But in the mean time she has had her fun.

I'll bet Mary Mills is just itching to try her hand on you."

"Do you really mean that?" Bull looked up with sudden hope-that quickly died. He shook his big head. "She deserves something better. I'd only spoil her life."

Nevertheless, he relapsed into deep thought, returning only monosyllables to Benson's talk. The little seed thus planted rooted deep in his silence.

Strange is first love with its intense desire for purity! Cleanliness is next to G.o.dliness, and G.o.dliness is Love. Thus Cleanliness must be next of kin to Love.

If this be doubted, observe a ten-year-old boy, self-convicted of water-marks on his neck and soil in his ears enough to grow potatoes.

See him scrub himself with profuse use of soap till his countenance shines so that it might serve as a mirror for the small charmer who has ensnared his budding affections with her bright curls. Watch him, later, a man grown, solicitous about his daily tub, careful of his raiment, choice in cravats! Later his wife shall drive him with revilings to his bath! Coming to cases, observe Gordon in the bunk-house after a cooling shower, carefully arranging his tie on the bosom of a brand-new shirt.

Now observe a girl, a vestal in purity, delicately perfumed, flowering in her ribands and laces like a pretty bud. At some time all of them earnestly desire that they had been born men. Yet one moment there is when they are unfeignedly glad to be women. So Lee, who was perhaps even a bit more boyish than the average, came to lunch in a soft white dress with a flower at her throat, powdered and delicately perfumed, bright hair framing happy eyes, every soft line and fold proclaiming her womanhood. Like an emanation, soft and effulgent as moonlit mist, the fullness of her content proceeded from her, wrapped her in a bright atmosphere in the midst of which she softly brooded. Not that she was silent. She laughed and talked; seriously discussed Benson's schemes.

But that was all of the surface. Behind the chatter she lived in the enchantment of her dream.

It was too marked to pa.s.s unnoticed. But if Bull and Benson saw the clinging of glances, sensed the pulsing feeling, they observed with the friendly indulgence of experience the young man's honest devotion, the girl's shy happiness. During the long hour they sat talking after lunch, no silly jest marred its beauty. Except for a greater kindliness of manner, with delicacy quite foreign to his harsh exterior, Benson gave no hint of his understanding up to the moment he rode away.