Jim Waring of Sonora-Town | Page 6

other, "pray then that the two horses that you borrowed may return.
As for your Uncle José, he will not die."
"And we shall be taken to the prison," said Ramon."
"You should have killed the gringo." And Armigo's tone was
matter-of-fact. "Or perhaps told him where you had hidden the gold. He
might have let you go, then."
Ramon shook his head. Armigo's suggestion was too obviously a
question as to the whereabouts of the stolen money.
The wounded man opened his eyes. "I have heard," he said faintly.
"Tell the gringo that I will say where the money is hidden if he will let
me go."
"It shall be as you wish," said Armigo, curious to learn more of the
matter.
At the corral he delivered Vaca's message to Waring, who feigned
delight at the other's information.
"If that is so, Tio Juan," he laughed, "you shall have your share--a

hundred pesos. Leave the blankets there by my saddle. We will go to
the house."
From the coolness of night, with its dim radiance of stars, to the
accumulated heat of the interior of the adobe was an unpleasant change.
The walls were whitewashed and clean enough, but the place smelled
strongly of cooking. A lamp burned on the oilcloth-covered table.
Ramon, wide-eyed with trepidation, stood by his uncle, who had braced
himself on his elbow as Waring approached. Waring nodded pleasantly
and rolled a cigarette. José Vaca glared up at him hungrily. The lower
lip, pendulous, showed his broken teeth. Waring thought of a trapped
wolf. Juan glanced from one to the other.
But the gringo seemed incurious, merely gazing at the pictures on the
walls; a flaming print of the Madonna, one of the Christ, a cheap
photograph of Juan and his señora taken on their wedding day, an
abalone shell on which was painted something resembling a horse and
rider--
"The gold is hidden in the house of Pedro Salazar, of Sonora. It is
buried in the earth beneath his bed."
José Vaca had spoken, but Waring was watching Ramon's eyes.
"All right, hombre. Muchas gracias."
"And now you will let me go?" queried Vaca.
"I haven't said so." Waring's tone was pleasant, almost indifferent.
Ramon's face was troubled. Of what use was it to try and deceive the
gringo? But Waring was smiling. Did he, then, believe such an obvious
lie?
"Bueno!" Waring exclaimed. "That lets you out. Now, what about you,
Ramon?"
"My uncle has spoken," said Ramon. "I have nothing to say."

"Then you will ride with me to Sonora."
"As you say, señor."
"All right. Don't sit up all night praying. That won't do any good. Get
some sleep. And you, too, Juan." And Waring turned quickly to
Armigo. "Sleep all you can. You'll feel better in the morning."
Waring turned and strode out. In the corral he spread his blankets. With
his head on the saddle, he lay gazing up at the stars.
The horses, with the exception of Waring's buckskin Dex, huddled in
one corner of the corral. That strange shape stretched quietly on the
ground was new to them.
For a long time the horse Dex stood with head lowered and one hip
sagged as he rested. Just before Waring slept he felt a gentle nosing of
his blankets. The big horse sniffed curiously.
"Strange blankets, eh?" queried Waring drowsily. "But it's the same old
partner, Dex."
The horse walked slowly away, nosing along the fence. Waring knew
that he was well sentineled. The big buckskin would resent the
approach of a stranger by snorting. Waring turned on his side and slept.
His day's work was done.

CHAPTER III
_Donovan's Hand_
Waring was up with the first faint streak of dawn. He threw hay to the
horses and strode briskly to the adobe. Juan Armigo was bending over
the kitchen stove. Waring nodded to him and stepped to the next room.
The Mexicans were asleep; young Ramon lying face down beneath the
crucifix on the wall, where he had knelt in prayer most of the night.

Waring drew back quietly.
"Let them sleep," he told Juan in the kitchen.
After frijoles and coffee, the gunman rose and gestured to Juan to
follow him.
Out near the corral, Waring turned suddenly. "You say that young
Ramon is straight?"
"Si, señor. He is a good boy."
"Well, he's in dam' bad company. How about Vaca?"
Juan Armigo shrugged his shoulders.
"Are you afraid of him, Juan?"
"No. But if he were to ask me for anything, it would be well to let him
have it."
"I see. So he sent young Ramon in here for two extra horses, and you
were afraid to refuse. I had thought you were an honest man. After I
have gone, go hunt up those horses in