The Argosy, November 1908 — page 28: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

594 me at my own table, her sprightliness, her sweet voice, her low, soft laugh, my rage grew almost unbearable. It was late at night when I entered the house after turning my horse loose in the corral. I found Sam had company. This was a tall, square-jawed, un- gainly Moqui named Billy Barefoot. He was Namona’s father. “What this I hear?” he asked. “Yaquis come and take away Namona?”’ “They took away Sam’s wife and mine,” I said. “And you do nothing? ”’ “Yes, I intend to do something. I was coming to see you.” “You go to San Deego? What they say San Deego?” “Nothing. I can’t get any govern- ment help. We'll have to do it alone. How many good men have you got up in the San Jacintos?”’ ‘““No want too many men. ever the border into Mex’co.” “Well, we’ll want a half dozen good men—men that are afraid of nothing.” “Ves. Good men, not old men. Not boys. Good men. Let me think about that.” He studied a moment, his wizened old face working. The Moquis are not Stoics like the Apaches and Comanches. “Hat Half dozen? Six? I have six I trust. Little Elk, Red Two Legs, Bill Faraway, Tom Mud, Run Fast Jin, and me.” “Very well. Now, when can you have the other five ready to start?” “Wa! They are ready now. All need is to tell them.” He darted away in that swift, noise- less fashion that had given him the name of Billy Barefoot, and, leaping upon his horse, was out of sight in a moment on his way to the San Jacintos. The next morning early my force was at my door. It was a picturesque gathering. They were well mounted, for this branch of the Moquis was far from _ poverty- stricken. And they were well armed. Billy Barefoot led them. “We ready,” he announced as I met them at the door. ‘“T'll be ready in a moment.” ‘T want to go,” said Sam. Won't let THE ARGOSY. “You! Don’t you think we've got work enough cut out for us without ta- king along a wounded man? ‘This is no picnic,” I told him. ‘We may all be wounded ourselves before the game is played out.” “You bring Namona?” “We'll bring Namona. Billy Bare- foot wouldn’t go if it wasn’t for Na- mona. And we’ve got to pass the bor- der ranger, somehow, and give him a tale he’ll swallow. You stay here and keep quiet. Have a good feed ready when we come back.” “When you think you come back?’ “Ha!” exclaimed Billy Barefoot. “When we think!” We left Sam standing in the doorway as we rode off, Billy Barefoot and I riding side by side and leading the little cavalcade. I knew very well that this was a des- perate mission I was on. I was not only invading another country under arms, but I was going deliberately into a region where Bonilla and Hernandez were powerful, and where I could not expect to find a single friend unless it was the mother of Consuelo, whom I had never seen. There is, from Yuma to the coast, a government officer called a_ border ranger, who patrols the line between Mexico and the State of California. Others patrol other sections along the entire Mexican boundary. I knew that the Yaquis both times they had visited me had somehow eluded this man, which was not very difficult, after all, considering the extent of his post. We crossed the line without any dif- ficulty and rode in upon Mexican soil. “Now, Billy Barefoot,” I said, “ we carry our lives in our hands.” “So. Where is this Bonilla? see about our lives.” We CHAPTER X. CONSUELO’S MOTHER. Tue road to Vallecita was far from good. For a portion of the way it led through open country, and then again there would be thick chaparrals of stunt- ed evergreen or large forests of small redwood or oak. comicloooks.corn