The Argosy, June 1904 — page 52: what you’re looking at

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

533 abandoned quarry, thinking possibly they might find their prey somewhere about the premises. The tramp they had taken with them. At first the ditch-tender was doubtful if the wretch who was drinking the warm and brackish water with such avidity could be the notorious fugitive, but he took no chances. Revolver in hand, he ran to the spot. When Holden looked up he found himself covered. “Make a move an’ I fire!” threat- ened the Mexican. “T am unarmed, and too weak to lift a hand,” returned the editor. “Get up!” commanded his captor roughly. Holden obeyed. © “Now you walk Slow, or I shoot!” But the zanjiro soon saw that he had little to apprehend from his prisoner, who stumbled and fell half a dozen times from sheer exhaustion before the railroad was reached. Bidding him keep his hands above his head meanwhile, he assured himself that the other was not armed, and then bound his wrists behind him with his neckerchief. Taking him by the arm, he half led, half dragged his captive in the direction of the town. A road swung in beside the track and paralleled it for a furlong or two. Down it, in a cloud of dust, rode a brown- skinned Mexican in gala attire, bound for the Fiesta. He was already well primed with vino, and could not have walked without lurching, though he sat his horse like a centaur. His eyes fell upon the zanjiro and his captive. With a swirl of dust he lifted his horse up the embankment and jerked it back upon its haunches, the quivering forelegs inside the rail. “Ha, duenas dias, Ramon! What have we here? ” “Fifteen hundred reales, no less! Brother of my soul, *tis the accursed Gringo for whom they have vexed the land with dogs! I, Ramon Estudillo, zganjiro of the Siloam Ditech Company, down the track. a valiant man, and of Castilian lineage, overcame him of my own bravery, THE ARGOSY. though my vocation is but to keep the waters free of floating weeds! ” “Jesu Maria! ’*Tis a glorious thing and a marvelous! In thy honor shall be opened as many flasks of vino blanco as would overflow thy ditch! And I, even J, Pedro Morello, son of thy mother’s cousin’s stepfather, will aid thee to bring him in. This out of the.love I bear thee, being of the same blood, and because of the honor thou hast wen. Be- hold, I have the riata for the contest of the steers—with it Tehall drag the Gringo in the dust at the tail of my horse!” Now the ditch tender repented of his boasting. Above all things, being a Mexican, he wanted to lead his prisoner into the town alone in order that the glory of the exploit (for which he cared tar more than for the reward) might be his alone. “Nay, Pedro,” he said. “It needs not the rope. That, in the state to which my prowess has reduced the ac- cursed, would, I doubt not, speedily end him. Do you rather hasten and ac- quaint our friends with my coming, not forgetting my cousin Juana. Let there be wine ready.” The mention of wine afflicted the drunken vaquero with a sudden and overwhelming thirst. He waved his hand, and, putting spurs to his beast, galloped off, whooping, in the direction of the town. Lhe zanjiro shook Holden. “ Hasten!” he commanded. For his vanity starved for the banquet of ap- plause of which he had just had a fore- taste. “Ha!” he exclaimed soon afterward. “See, they come to meet us! ” Holden raised his eyes and saw a straggling and disorderly crowd run- ning toward them. There were pedes- trians upon the railroad, flanked by horsemen in the highway. “Tf it were any time but this,” said Holden to himself, “I might have a chance. But if I do not have a rope around my neck within the next half hour, it will be because the day of mir- acles is not over!” Indeed, he knew his pegpre only too surely. (To be continued. ) PRODUCED BY UNZ.ORG COM OO ELECTRONIC REPRODUCTION PROHIBITED