CHAPTER VII
THE DANCE
Long since the sun had slid behind the horizon edge and given place to adesert night of shimmering moonlight and far stars. From the enchantedmesa Rutherford Wadley descended to a valley draw in which were huddleda score of Mexican _jacals_, huts built of stakes stuck in a trench,roofed with sod and floored with mud. Beyond these was a morepretentious house. Originally it had been a log "hogan," but a largeadobe addition had been constructed for a store. Inside this the dancewas being held.
Light filtered through the chinks in the mud. From door and windows camethe sounds of scraping fiddles and stamping feet. The singsong voice ofthe caller and the occasional whoop of a cowboy punctuated the medley ofnoises.
A man whose girth would have put Falstaff to shame greeted Rutherfordwheezily. "Fall off and 'light, Ford. She's in full swing and thebridle's off."
The man was Jumbo Wilkins, line-rider for the A T O.
Young Wadley swung to the ground. He did not trouble to answer hisfather's employee. It was in little ways like this that he endearedhimself to those at hand, and it was just this spirit that thedemocratic West would not tolerate. While the rider was tying his horseto the hitch-rack, Jumbo Wilkins, who was a friendly soul, made anothertry at conversation.
"Glad you got an invite. Old man Cobb hadn't room for everybody, so hedidn't make his bid wide open."
The young man jingled up the steps. "That so? Well, I didn't get aninvite, as you call it. But I'm here." He contrived to say it sooffensively that Jumbo flushed with anger.
Wadley sauntered into the room and stood for a moment by the door. Histrim, graceful figure and dark good looks made him at once a focus ofeyes. Nonchalantly he sunned himself in the limelight, with that littletouch of swagger that captures the imagination of girls. No man in thecow-country dressed like Rutherford Wadley. In the kingdom of the blindthe one-eyed are kings, and to these frontier women this young fellowwas a glass of fashion. There was about him, too, a certain dash, aspice of the devil more desirable in a breaker of hearts than any merebeauty.
His bold, possessive eyes ranged over the room to claim what they mightdesire. He had come to the dance at Tomichi Creek to make love to TonyAlviro's betrothed sweetheart Bonita.
She was in the far corner with her little court about her. If Bonitawas a flirt, it must be admitted she was a charming one. No girl withina day's ride was so courted as she. Compact of fire and passion,brimming with life and health, she drew men to her as the flame themoth.
Presently the music started. Bonita, in the arms of Tony, floated pastRutherford, a miracle of supple lightness. A flash of soft eyes dartedat the heir of the A T O ranch. In them was a smile adorable andprovocative.
As soon as the dance was over, Wadley made his way indolently towardher. He claimed the next waltz.
She had promised it to Tony, the girl said--and the next.
"Tony can't close-herd you," laughed Rutherford. "His title ain't clearyet--won't be till the priest has said so. You'll dance the second onewith me, Bonita."
"We shall see, _senor_," she mocked.
But the Mexican blood in the girl beat fast. In her soft, liquid eyeslurked the hunger for sex adventure. And this man was a prince of theblood--the son of Clint Wadley, the biggest cattleman in West Texas.
There were challenging stars of deviltry in Bonita's eyes when they metthose of Rutherford over the shoulder of Alviro while she danced, butthe color was beating warm through her dark skin. The lift of her round,brown throat to an indifferent tilt of the chin was mere pretense. Thelanguorous passion of the South was her inheritance, and excitementmounted in her while she kept time to the melodious dance.
Alviro was master of ceremonies, and Wadley found his chance while theyoung Mexican was of necessity away from Bonita. Rutherford bowed to herwith elaborate mockery.
"Come. Let us walk in the moonlight, sweetheart," he said.
Bonita turned to him with slow grace. The eyes of the man and the womanmet and fought. In hers there was a kind of savage fierceness, in his aninsolent confidence.
"No," she answered.
"Ah! You're afraid of me--afraid to trust yourself with me," he boasted.
She was an untutored child of the desert, and his words were a spur toher quick pride. She rose at once, her bosom rising and falling fast.She would never confess that--never.
The girl walked beside him with the fluent grace of youth, beautiful asa forest fawn. In ten years she would be fat and slovenly like herMexican mother, but now she carried her slender body as a queen issupposed to but does not. Her heel sank into a little patch of mud wheresome one had watered a horse. Under the cottonwoods she pulled up herskirt a trifle and made a _moue_ of disgust at the soiled slipper.
"See what you've done!" Small, even teeth, gleamed in a coquettish smilefrom the ripe lips of the little mouth. He understood that he was beinginvited to kneel and clean the mud-stained shoe.
"If you're looking for a doormat to wipe your feet on, I'll send forTony," he jeered.
The father of Bonita was Anglo-Saxon. She flashed anger at hispresumption.
"Don't you think it. Tony will never be a doormat to anybody. Be warned,_senor_, and do not try to take what is his."
Again their eyes battled. Neither of them saw a man who had come outfrom the house and was watching them from the end of the porch.
"I take what the gods give, my dear, and ask leave of no man," braggedWadley.
"Or woman?"
"Ah! That is different. When the woman is Bonita, _muchacha_, I am herslave."
He dropped to one knee and with his handkerchief wiped the mud from theheel of her slipper. For a moment his fingers touched lightly the trimlittle ankle; then he rose quickly and caught her in his arms.
"Sometime--soon--it's going to be me and you, sweetheart," he whispered.
"Don't," she begged, struggling against herself and him. "If Tonysees--"
His passion was too keen-edged to take warning. He kissed her lips andthroat and eyes. The eyes of the watcher never wavered. They werenarrowed to shining slits of jet.
"Why do you come and--and follow me?" the girl cried softly. "It is notthat you do not know Tony is jealous. This is not play with him. Heloves me and will fight for me. You are mad."
"For love of you!" he laughed triumphantly.
She knew he lied. The instinct that served her for a conscience had longsince told her as much. But her vanity, and perhaps something deeper,craved satisfaction. She wanted to believe he meant it. Under his ardentgaze the long lashes of the girl drooped to her dusky cheeks. It wasTony she loved, but Tony offered her only happiness and not excitement.
A moment later she gave a startled little cry and pushed herself free.Her dilated eyes were fixed on something behind the cattleman.
Rutherford, warned by her expression, whirled on his heel.
Tony Alviro, knife in hand, was close upon him. Wadley lashed out hardwith his left and caught the Mexican on the point of the chin.
The blow lifted Tony from his feet and flung him at full length to theground. He tried to rise, groaned--rolled over.
Bonita was beside him in an instant. From where she knelt, with Tony'sdark head in her arms pressed close to her bosom, she turned fiercelyon Wadley.
"I hate you, dog of a _gringo_! You are all one big lie through andthrough--what they call bad egg--no good!"
Already half a dozen men were charging from the house. Jumbo pinnedWadley's arms by the elbows to prevent him from drawing a revolver.
"What's the rumpus?" he demanded.
"The fellow tried to knife me in the back," explained Rutherford."Jealous, because I took his girl."
"So?" grunted Wilkins. "Well, you'd better light a shuck out o' here.You came on yore own invite. You can go on mine."
"Why should I go? I'll see you at Tombstone first."
"Why?" Jumbo's voice was no longer amiable and ingratiating. "Becauseyou gave Tony a raw deal, an' he's got friends here. Hav
e _you_?"
Wadley looked round and saw here and there Mexican faces filled withsullen resentment. It came to him swiftly that this was no place for hisfather's son to linger.
"I don't push my society on any one," he said haughtily. "If I ain'twelcome, I'll go. But I serve notice right here that any one who triesto pull a knife on me will get cold lead next time."
Jumbo, with his arm tucked under that of Wadley, led the way to thehouse. He untied the rein of Rutherford's horse and handed it to theson of his boss.
"_Vamos!_" he said.
The young man pulled himself to the saddle. "You're a hell of a friend,"he snarled.
"Who said anything about bein' a friend? I'm particular about when I usethat word," replied Wilkins evenly, with hard eyes.
Wadley's quirt burned the flank of the cow-pony and it leaped for theroad.
When five minutes later some one inquired for Tony he too haddisappeared.