The Bad Man Part 22

This was, to him, the ultimate joke. "An' you call it a free country! Ees only one free country. Ees one in which man does as she d.a.m.n please. Like Mexico!" he ended.

The women were astounded. They had always thought of Mexico as a land of rough-and-tumble, comic-opera revolutions; a place where one must forever be on the lookout for trouble; where robbers were rife and the days were nothing but a chain of abominations. A sunny, beautiful country, maybe; but no place for a G.o.d-fearing American citizen to settle. Why, they would as soon commit murder in Mexico as go to market.

"Haven't you any laws in Mexico?" Lucia inquired.

"We 'ave--ze best," Lopez was swift to reply.

"But you just said--" Angela started to remind him, and took a little stool and moved close to him, seating herself upon it. She did not want him to forget her girlish sweetness. Lopez paid no heed to her.

"They are ze best because each man makes them for 'imself. Not like New York, where everybody tell you what you cannot do until zere is nozzing left what you want to do."

Angela piped up: "You've been to New York?"

"When I was agent for Madero--yes. I live at ze big hotel. I 'ave planty money. Ees no d.a.m.n prohibition. I get dronk. I 'ave 'ell of a time. Sure! I see 'im all! New York!" he smiled in recollection.

"And you didn't like it?" Angela persisted, moving her little stool even closer to him.

"Like it? It makes me seeck! Even beautiful woman what I see 'ave 'osband what is afraid for 'er. Each time I get dronk comes big policeman which 'it me on ze 'ead." He smiled at the thought, "When I go to ze teatro, ees someone which 'ide under--ze bed. Not even can I step on ze gra.s.s because--New York! It crush ze 'eart!" He put both hands over his chest, and looked up at the ceiling.

"Yes!" exclaimed Angela, her stool very close to him now.

"Ees a prison for ze soul!" Lopez affirmed. "A stupid, seely place, your New York!"

"Yes!" Angela agreed again.

"For me New York can go to 'ell just as soon as she d.a.m.n please!" the bandit let out.

"Oh, Mr. Robber!" Angela cried.

"But Mexico! How different!" Lopez said, paying no more attention to Angela than he would to a fly.

"I'm sure it is!" the girl said.

To Lucia, Lopez went on: "You shall see! Ze beautiful woman 'ave 'osband.

But shall I not 'ave beautiful woman?"

"Oh, Mr. Bandit!" Angela put in once more.

"When we get dronk, ees not policeman which will 'it us on ze 'ead, but us which will 'it policeman on ze 'ead." Angela chuckled at this. "In ze teatro shall not be someone which 'ide under ze bed, but in it! You shall see! In Mexico ze heart leap! Ze soul she is free! You can do what you want--zat is, onless someone shoot you. Leesten, senora." He leaned close to Lucia, who had not ventured to move, "Did you ever know the joy of fierce leeving? Did you?"

But she did not reply. Instead, it was the impetuous Angela who answered him:

"Yes. I mean, no!"

Lopez turned and scowled at her. "I was not spik to you," he said.

"You weren't!" Angela looked her surprise.

"_Ciertamente_ no!" the bandit said.

Angela was hurt. "But you're not cross with me, are you?" she almost wept.

"No! I am not cross wiz you! Eez zat you annoy me!" And as though she were a doll, he pushed her from him, his big hand almost blotting out her pretty little face. The stool and Angela fell to the floor. She was furious. The devil in her was roused. Chagrined, she picked herself up. Her dainty plaid frock was covered with dust. She brushed it off as best she could, and cried:

"How dare you push my face, you bad man!"

"You should keep your face to home," Lopez answered, not turning a hair. He hadn't meant to be cruel. The incident was nothing to him. When anyone was in his way, he always got the obstacle out of it. He addressed the silent Lucia, who was horrified at the treatment accorded the innocent Angela.

"Now that we have all finished eating," he said, delighting in the sarcasm, since no one else had had a bite, "we will get down to business." He shoved the tray aside, and the cook began instantly to clean things up.

"Pedro!" Lopez called, taking out a huge ivory toothpick which he shamelessly used.

Instantly Pedro was at the door. "_Si!_" he said.

Lopez still spoke to Lucia: "We shall have big time togezzer--at least for a leetle while." Then he motioned to Pedro; and his men brought in the male prisoners. "You will not worry 'bout being married, once you come wiz me."

Morgan Pell heard this last remark.

"Look here," he said, "that's my wife you're talking to!" Rage was in his face. He didn't care whether he was this man's prisoner or not. There should be no insults hurled at Lucia--that old, primitive feeling for his woman was roused.

"So!" was all Lopez said, turning on Pell, and nodding his head. "Ees nice wife--I like her. You do not mind, do you?" His hand touched Lucia's arm.

"Ees all right. I shall ask no question. You shall answer what I ask. And as is my custom, anybody what does not tell ze truth shall be quite suddenly--" he paused just the portion of a second--"shot."

Uncle Henry had rolled in with the rest. At this last word his chair reared up like a frightened steed. "Shot!" he cried.

"_Si_," answered Lopez, calmly.

"You mean it?" Uncle Henry asked, unbelief in his tone.

The bandit glared at him.

"Should I waste my time listening to sings which are not true?"

"Thank Gawd, I ain't got nothin' to lie about!" was Uncle Henry's relieved thought, expressed aloud.

"H'm!" Lopez murmured. "You have given me a idea." He rubbed his hands together, and then pushed his big sombrero a little back on his forehead.

"Better as my own. I shall use it."

Uncle Henry wondered what he had suggested. "What's that?" he asked.

Lopez took on the voice of an orator, or a man in court making an important announcement. "If anyone 'ere shall tell me a lie, zen you shall all be--"

he paused dramatically once more--"shot." The final word rang out like a shot itself.

A movement of despair ran through the group.

"Geemoneddy!" Uncle Henry broke the tension.

Lopez turned to Lucia. "All bot you," he graciously informed her. "I 'ave ozzer plans for you!" Her hair enraptured him--her youth and loveliness.

The relief she felt at the first part of the sentence was quickly killed as the sinister meaning of the latter part rushed into her brain.