"All right, we'll chance it," concluded Belding. "I'll go out now
and call Rojas and his outfit over...Say, it might be as well for
me to know just what he said in that paper."
Thorne went to the side of his wife.
"Mercedes, we've planned to outwit Rojas. Will you tell us just
what he wrote?"
The girl sat up, her eyes dilating, and with her hands clasping
Thorne's. She said:
"Rojas swore--by his saints and his virgin--that if I wasn't
given--to him--in twenty-four hours--he would set fire to the
village--kill the men--carry off the women--hang the children
on cactus thorns!"
A moment's silence followed her last halting whisper.
"By his saints an' his virgin!" echoed Ladd. He laughed--a cold,
cutting, deadly laugh--significant and terrible.
Then the Yaqui uttered a singular cry. Gale had heard this once
before, and now he remembered it was at the Papago Well.
"Look at the Indian," whispered Belding, hoarsely. "Damn if I
don't believe he understood every word Mercedes said. And,
gentlemen, don't mistake me, if he ever gets near Senor Rojas
there'll be some gory Aztec knife work."
Yaqui had moved close to Mercedes, and stood beside her as she
leaned against her husband. She seemed impelled to meet the
Indian's gaze, and evidently it was so powerful or hypnotic that
it wrought irresistibly upon her. But she must have seen or
divined what was beyond the others, for she offered him her
trembling hand. Yaqui took it and laid it against his body
in a strange motion, and bowed his head.
Pages:
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229