CHAPTER II
A BAD BUSINESS.
Captives? Far from it--save to their own reckless disregard of life andlimb, and all for a bit of hitherto untested fun.
Shrieking with laughter at the success of their experiment, they rolledand floundered on the ground, till the laughter changed to cries of painas their restless writhings to and fro drove their self-inflicted bondsdeeper into the flesh.
By some dexterity they got upon their feet, at last, and one implored:
"Oh! you Pedro! or you, man! Cut us loose, can't you? Don't you see wecan't do it ourselves?"
Mr. Hale adjusted his eyeglasses and looked rather helplessly toward theshepherd; but that phlegmatic person was working away on his wonderfulbasket as stolidly as if there was none beside himself upon the mesa.
"Oh! you hateful old Pedro! Cut us free, I tell you! Ain't I yourmaster? You'd do it mighty quick for 'Lady Jess.'"
The frightened little fellow, whose fun had now ebbed into a terriblefear of an indefinite bondage, began to whimper, and Mr. Hale to act. Afew sharp slashings of the horsehair thongs and the captives were freeto express their delight in a series of somersaults, which were onlyarrested by sight of Prince in the distance, holding up his injured footand seeking for some pasture amid the dry herbage.
"Hello! That horse is new. Is he yours, mister? What's the matter withhim? Humph! I guess you're new, too, aren't you? I never saw you in ourvalley before. Where's your ranch?"
The questioner was a blue-eyed, fair-haired little chap whose closeresemblance to Jessica proclaimed him her brother; but he was younger,sturdier, and less courteous than she. Yet his prolonged stare at thestranger had less of rudeness than surprise in it, and Mr. Hale laughedat the frank inspection.
"You look rather 'new' yourself, my man. About eight years, aren'tyou?"
"How'd you guess?"
"Lads of my own."
"Where?"
"Several thousand miles away, over the Atlantic coast."
"Why didn't you fetch 'em?"
"Couldn't afford it."
"Oh! couldn't you? H-m-m." Then he turned his attention to Pedro, withthe remark: "Why aren't you sick, like 'Tonio said? Making my sistercome way up here for nothing. Don't you dare do that again, I tell you.You're just as well as ever, and I smell coffee. Come on, Luis!"
Catching his mate around the shoulders the boy rushed into the hut,only to be as promptly banished from it. With a swiftness matching thechildren's own, the shepherd had followed and caught the pair, a ladin either hand, and flung them out of doors, exactly as one might acouple of mischievous kittens. Evidently, what was permissible to "LadyJess" was forbidden these, though they were not at all disturbed bytheir sudden ejection. Such incidents were too familiar, and, havinglanded in one heap upon the ground, they immediately fell to wrestlingas if this were the business they had originally intended. Now theblack head of Spanish Luis was uppermost, now the sunnier one of Ned,with a flying jumble of vari-colored hands and feet, till Pedro cameout and offered to each contestant a cup of cold, but well-sweetenedcoffee.
This meant instant truce and they carried their treat to the benchMr. Hale had occupied, leaving him to stand or sit upon the ground,as he preferred. He chose the latter and near enough to hear their eagerchatter, which was still full of indignation against the shepherd'srobust health.
"'Cause he ought to been dead, 'most. And my mother wanting Jess theworst ever was. 'Cause Wun Lung cut hisself."
"Maybe Wun Lung die now, maybe," suggested Luis, with hopefulheartlessness.
"Pshaw! No, he won't. Chinamen don't. You never saw one, Luis Garcia.Hi! Look at Zulu. Hi! Keno, Keno, Keno! Oh, Wow!"
By a mutual impulse, Prince and the ostrich had put as wide a spacebetween themselves as possible, and the latter had strolled close toPedro's quiet flock before he had perceived it. This was evident, evenfrom the distance; but now up rose Keno, the collie, and with angryyelps rushed fearlessly upon the great bird.
King Zulu hesitated but an instant before he turned his back upon hisassailant and made all speed over the bluff into the canyon below.
"Well, of all cowards! A creature that could have killed the dog withone kick of his foot!" cried Mr. Hale, amazed.
"Huh! No, he couldn't. Kill you or Pedro. Kill that old horse ofyours, easy as scat. Can't kick low down as Keno. Huh! Guess I knowmore about ostriches than you do," exulted Ned, in whose opinion thestranger had now greatly fallen.
"Huh! Don't know about ostrichers!" echoed Luis, loyally, and wasrewarded by a friendly slap from his pattern and playmate.
Roused by the disturbance of his sheep, Pedro hurried to quiet them,but, as he passed, fixed a piercing gaze upon the stranger's face. Thescrutiny seemed to partially reassure him, for he observed:
"Horse lame, Zulu gone, catch burro, yes. Let the feet which take thetrail be young, not feeble and unused. But to him who journeys with evilin his heart evil will surely come. The widow and the orphan belong toGod. Indeed, yet. 'Ware, Antonio."
Mr. Hale reflected swiftly. He smiled at thought of his own long legsbestriding the low back of the donkey, but a memory of that heated traildown which he must pass to reach the nearest house, decided the matter.While the small owners of the burro were improving the time of theshepherd's absence to ransack his dwelling the sturdy little animalbore its accustomed rider out of sight.
Meanwhile, Jessica's moccasined feet were flying down the slope, herblue skirts and scarlet Tam making a moving spot of color against thesandy glare of the canyon wall, and long before she came within hailingdistance catching the eyes of one who eagerly awaited her approach.
This was John Benton, the carpenter and general utility man at Sobrante;who had come up the opposite side of the canyon, where were many hugebowlders, a few trees, and no trail at all. Indeed, a passage alongthat face of the gulch was difficult in extreme, and so dangerous thatit must have been serious business which brought a lame man thither.Fortunately for his patience, the girl paused for breath at a pointlevel with his own narrow perch upon a shelving rock, and where there wasno great width of the V-shaped chasm.
"Lady Jess! Oh! I say! Miss Jessica! Lady Jess!"
The girl looked about her, up and down, everywhere save to the furtherside where nobody ever went if it could be avoided. But she answered,cheerily:
"_Hola!_ Coo'ee! Coo'ee! Who are you?"
The man made a trumpet of his hands and shouted back:
"The flume! Look east--to the flume!"
She followed his example and called through her own fingers:
"What's wrong? How came you there?"
He pointed downward, and she shaded her eyes from the blinding sunshineto see why, but could discover nothing new in the familiar scene.
"The water! That's where it goes! The flume is cut!"
Even at that pitch, his tones were full of excited indignation, and herown anger leaped at once.
"Somebody's cut the flume? Who dared! Wait--wait--I'm coming!"
"No, no! Don't. You can't help it--you'll break your neck! Oh! LadyJess!"
"I'm coming! Wait for me!"
The carpenter laughed. "Might have known she would, and wanted sheshould, I suppose. Surest-footed little thing in the world. Guess Ineedn't fret. Though when I think what this old ranch would be withouther, I don't feel any great call to send her into danger, myself. My!she's as nimble as a squirrel! Down to the bottom a'ready. Up this sidein a jiffy, and won't her blue eyes snap when she sees this lowdowntrick? If I knew whose job it was, well, I'm a peaceable man if I'mlet, but there wouldn't be room enough in this here valley for the twoof us. And it's all on a piece with the rest. One thing after another.There's a snake in this wigwam, but which 'tis? H-m-m! Beats me.Beats me clear to Jericho."
Then he fell to watching the slower, steady ascent of Jessica, who haddescended the further side so swiftly, and who had clambered lightlyenough over the roughness of the gulch bottom; at times filled with aroaring torrent, but now quite dry after a
long, hot summer.
"Well, here I am!"
"And a sorry sight to show you. Look a' that now. Isn't that a regularcoyote piece of work?"
Along this face of the canyon descended a line of small wooden troughs,closely joined, and supported upon slender but strong cedar uprights.This flume connected with the distant reservoir of an irrigatingcompany and had been built by Jessica's dead father at a great andill-afforded expense. But of all good things there was nothing soprecious to the tillers of that thirsty land as water, and the cuttingoff of this supply meant ruin to Sobrante.
Young as she was, Jessica fully understood this, though she could notunderstand that any human being should do a deed so dastardly.
"John Benton, you mustn't say that. Some of the cattle have doneit. It's an accident. It can be mended. I'm sorry, of course, butso thankful you found it. And I see you've got your tools."
"Oh! I can mend it, all right, but it won't stay mended. You'll see.'Tisn't the first break I've patched, not by any means."
"Of course it isn't. Only last week in that stampede, when the boyswere changing pasture, the creatures ran against it and you fixed it,good as new. There isn't anything you can't do with an ax and a fewnails."
John passed the compliment by unheeding.
"There's breaks and there's cuts. Reckon I can tell the differencequick enough. This is a cut and isn't the first one I've found, I say.'Twas a fresh-ground blade did this piece of deviltry, or I'm no judgeof edges. Now, who did it? Why? And how's old Pedro?"
Despite her faith in her friends, the small ranchwoman's heart sank.
"He--he--why, he isn't sick at all! I was sent up there on a fool'serrand, and just on plucking-day, when I was so needed at home. With WunLung hurt and mother so busy, I ought to have a dozen pairs of hands.Of course, I'm glad he's well, dear old fellow, but I shouldn't havegone this morning if somebody hadn't told Antonio wrong. I met astranger on the trail, too, and Zulu scared his horse, and it stumbledin a gopher hole or something and is lamed for ever so long. He'lllikely come to Sobrante, if he can get there, but he looked ill if Pedrodidn't, and the sun nearly overcame him. Can't I help you hold thatboard?"
John accepted her offer of help less because he needed it than becausehe always liked to have her near him.
"So 'twas Antonio sent you, eh? H-m-m!"
"He didn't send me. Course not. He just said somebody said Pedro wasdying."
The carpenter laughed, but his mirth was not pleasant.
"Queer how stories get mixed, even in this lonesome place. There; youneedn't hold that. Your little hands aren't so very strong, helpfulas they may be. This isn't any great of a job; it 'twould only stay,once 'twas finished!"
"Then I'll go. Maybe I'd better send up one of the boys to help you.Shall I? Who do you want?"
Upon the point of declining, the carpenter changed his mind.
"Yes, you may. I wish you would. Send Antonio."
"Send--Antonio! Why, I should as soon think of 'sending' that strangerI told you about. You're teasing me, for you know well that Antonio isthe only one who ever 'sends' Antonio. Even my mother, who has aright to 'send' everybody on the ranch whither she will, never ordersthe manager. Well, good-by. You shall have a nice dinner out of thehouse-kitchen to pay for your hard climb."
"Take care where you step in your hurry, and just try that word on the'senor.' Tell him there's a bit of a break in the flume I'd like hisadvice about."
The workman's laugh followed the girl down the rough and perilous way,and just as she passed out of hearing came the parting shot:
"Send Antonio."
"H-m-m! I don't see what it all means. First is old Pedro, with hisgrim ''Ware Antonio!' And now John Benton speaks in that queer way, asif there were two meanings to his words. Heigho! I hear somebody comingup. I wonder who!"
Hurrying downward as fast as the uneven path allowed, her own softly-shodfeet making no noise, she reached a turn of the road and suddenlyslackened her pace. The man approaching was one of the few whom shefeared and disliked.
"Ferd, the dwarf!"
Instinctively, she hid behind a clump of shrubbery and waited for himto pass, hoping he would not see her. He did not. He was too engrossedin handling, apparently counting, something within a deep basket thathung on his arm, and his bare feet loped around over the rocks as easilyas they would have carried him across the level mesa.
As soon as he had gone by Lady Jess started onward, but she had growneven more thoughtful.
"That's queer. Antonio must need Ferd to-day if ever he does. Indeed,nobody seems able to serve him as well as that poor half-wit. What couldhe have had in his basket? And--ha! how came _this_ here?"
With a cry of surprise she lifted a small, soft object from the groundbefore her and regarded it in gathering dismay.