At her bidding there was always a suggestion
of hurry, which otherwise was never manifest in his actions. She
put a hand on his bared muscular arm and began to speak in Spanish.
Her voice was low, swift, full of deep emotion, sweet as the sound
of a bell. It thrilled Gale, though he understood scarcely a word
she said. He did not need translation to know that here spoke the
longing of a woman for life, love, home, the heritage of a woman's
heart.
Gale doubted his own divining impression. It was that the Yaqui
understood this woman's longing. In Gale's sight the Indian's
stoicism, his inscrutability, the lavalike hardness of his face,
although they did not change, seemed to give forth light, gentleness,
loyalty. For an instant Gale seemed to have a vision; but it did
not last, and he failed to hold some beautiful illusive thing.
"Si!" rolled out the Indian's reply, full of power and depth.
Mercedes drew a long breath, and her hand sought Thorne's.
"He says yes," she whispered. "He answers he'll save us; he'll
take us all back--he knows!"
The Indian turned away to his tasks, and the silence that held the
little group was finally broken by Ladd.
"Shore I said so. Now all we've got to do is use sense. Friends,
I'm the commissary department of this outfit, an' what I say goes.
You all won't eat except when I tell you. Mebbe it'll not be so
hard to keep our health. Starved beggars don't get sick. But
there's the heat comin', an' we can all go loco, you know.
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