The Gringos | Page 3

his calfskin boots, for all he had bent his back laboriously
all summer over a hole in the ground, and had idled in town since
Thanksgiving. He was a cowboy (vaquero was the name they used in
those pleasant valleys) and so was his friend. And he had found a
cowboy's paradise, and a welcome which a king could not cavil at.
Would Jack stake himself to a horse and outfit, and come to Palo Alto
till the snow was well out of the mountains and they could go back to
their mine?
Jack blew three small smoke-rings with nice precision, watched them
float and fade while he thought of a certain girl who had lately smiled
upon him--and in return had got smile for smile--and said he guessed
he'd stick to town life for a while.
"Old Don Andres Picardo's a prince," argued Dade, "and he's got a
rancho that's a paradise on earth. Likes us gringos--which is more than
most of 'em do--and said his house and all he's got is half mine, and
nothing but the honor's all his. You know the Spaniards; seems like
Texas, down there. I told him I had a partner, and he said he'd be
doubly honored if it pleased my partner to sleep under his poor
roof--red tiles, by the way, and not so poor!--and sit at his table. One of
the 'fine old families,' they are, Jack. I came back after you and my
traps."
"That fellow you bought the white caballo from got shot that same
night," Jack observed irrelevantly. "He was weeping all over me part of
the evening, because he'd sold the horse and you had pulled out so he

couldn't buy him back. Then he came into Billy Wilson's place and sat
into a game at the table next to mine; and some kind of a quarrel started.
He'd overlooked that gun on the saddle, it seems, and so he only had a
knife. He whipped it out, first pass, but a bullet got him in the heart.
The fellow that did it--" Jack blew two more rings and watched them
absently--"the Committee rounded him up and took him out to the oak,
next morning. Trial took about fifteen minutes, all told. They had him
hung, in their own minds, before the greaser quit kicking. I know the
man shot in self-defense; I saw the Spaniard pull his knife and start for
him with blood in his eye. But some of the Committee had it in for
Sandy, and so--it was adios for him, poor devil. They murdered him in
cold blood. I told them so, too. I told them--"
"Yes, I haven't the slightest doubt of that!" Dade flung away a
half-smoked cigarette and agitatedly began to roll another one. "That's
one reason why I want you to come down to Palo Alto, Jack. You know
how things are going here, lately; and Perkins hates you since you took
the part of that peon he was beating up,--and, by the way, I saw that
same Injun at Don Andres' rancho. Now that Perkins is Captain, you'll
get into trouble if you hang around this burg without some one to hold
you down. This ain't any place for a man that's got your temper and
tongue. Say, I heard of a horse--"
"No, you don't! You can't lead me out like that, old boy. I'm all right;
Bill Wilson and I are pretty good friends; and Bill's almost as high a
card as the Committee, if it ever came to a show-down. But it won't.
I'm not a fool; I didn't quarrel with them, honest. They had me up for a
witness and I told the truth--which didn't happen to jibe with the verdict
they meant to give. The Captain as good as said so, and I just pleasantly
and kindly told him that in my opinion Sandy was a better man than
any one of 'em. That's all there was to it. The Captain excused me from
the witness chair, and I walked out of the tent. And we're friendly
enough when we meet; so you needn't worry about me."
"Better come, anyway," urged Dade, though he was not hopeful of
winning his way.
Jack shook his head. "No, I don't want anything of country life just yet.

I had all the splendid solitude my system needs, this last summer. You
like it; you're a kind of a lone rider anyway. You never did mix well.
You go back and honor Don Andres with your presence--and he is
honored. If the old devil only knew it! Maybe, later on--So you like
your new horse, huh? What you going to call him?"
Dade grinned a little. "Remember that picture in Shakespeare of 'White
Surry'? Or it was in