The Blood of the Conquerors | Page 8

upon one couple with a real sense of resentment and uneasiness. The
couple consisted of his uncle, Diego Delcasar, and the wife of James
MacDougall, the lawyer and real estate operator with whom the Don
had formed a partnership, and whom Ramon believed to be
systematically fleecing the old man.
Don Diego was a big, paunchy Mexican with a smooth brown face,
strikingly set off by fierce white whiskers. His partner was a tall,
tight-lipped, angular woman, who danced painfully, but with
determination. The two had nothing to say to each other, but both of
them smiled resolutely, and the Don visibly perspired under the effort
of steering his inflexible friend.

Although he did not formulate the idea, this couple was to Ramon a
symbol of the disgust with which the life of his native town inspired
him. Here was the Mexican sedulously currying favour with the gringo,
who robbed him for his pains. And here was the specific example of
that relation which promised to rob Ramon of his heritage.
For the gringos he felt a cold hostility--a sense of antagonism and
difference--but it was his senile and fatuous uncle, the type of his own
defeated race, whom he despised.
CHAPTER IV
When the music stopped Ramon left the hall for the hotel lobby, where
he soothed his sensibilities with a small brown cigarette of his own
making. In one of the swinging benches covered with Navajo blankets
two other dress-suited youths were seated, smoking and talking. One of
them was a short, plump Jew with a round and gravely good-natured
face; the other a tall, slender young fellow with a great mop of curly
brown hair, large soft eyes and a sensitive mouth.
"She's good looking, all right," the little fellow assented, as Ramon
came up.
"Good looking!" exclaimed the other with enthusiasm. "She's a little
queen! Nothing like her ever hit this town before."
"Who's all the excitement about?" Ramon demanded, thrusting himself
into the conversation with the easy familiarity which was his right as
one of "the bunch."
Sidney Felberg turned to him in mock amazement.
"Good night, Ramon! Where have you been? Asleep? We're talking
about Julia Roth, same as everybody else.{~HORIZONTAL
ELLIPSIS~}"
"Who's she?" Ramon queried coolly, discharging a cloud of smoke
from the depths of his lungs. "Never heard of her."

"Well, she's our latest social sensation {~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~}
sister of some rich lunger that recently hit town; therefore very
important. But that's not the only reason. Wait till you see her."
"All right; introduce me to her," Ramon suggested.
"Go on; knock him down to the lady," Sidney proposed to his
companion.
"No, you," Conny demurred. "I refuse to take the responsibility. He's
too good looking."
"All right," Sidney assented. "Come on. It's the only way I can get a
look at her anyway--introducing somebody else. A good-looking girl in
this town can start a regular stampede. We ought to import a few
hundred.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~}"
It was during an intermission. They forced their way through a phalanx
of men brandishing programs and pencils, each trying to bring himself
exclusively to the attention of a small blonde person who seemed to
have some such quality of attractiveness for men as spilled honey has
for insects.
When Ramon saw her he felt as though something inside of him had
bumped up against his diaphragm, taking away his breath for a moment,
agitating him strangely. And he saw an answering surprised recognition
in her wide grey eyes.
"You {~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} you're the girl on the train," he
remarked idiotically, as he took her hand.
She turned pink and laughed.
"You're the man that wouldn't look up," she mocked.
"What's all this about?" demanded Sidney. "You two met before?"
"May I have a dance?" Ramon inquired, suddenly recovering his
presence of mind.

"Let me see {~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} you're awfully late." They
put their heads close together over her program. He saw her cut out the
name of another man who had two dances, and then she held her pencil
poised.
"Of course I didn't get your name," she admitted.
"No; I'll write it {~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} Was it Carter?
Delcasar? Ramon Delcasar. You must be Spanish. I was wondering
{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} you're so dark. I'm awfully interested
in Spanish people.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~}" She wrote the
name in a bold, upright, childish hand.
Ramon found that he had lost his mood of discontent after this, and he
entered with zest into the spirit of the dance which was fast losing its
stiff and formal character. Punch and music had broken down barriers.
The hall was noisy with the ringing, high pitched laughter of
excitement. It was warm and filled with an exotic, stimulating odour,
compounded of many perfumes and of perspiration. Every one danced.
Young folk danced as though inspired, swaying their