CHAPTER V
Hanson had learned of Flick's return to Paloma almost as soon as thePearl, although from a different source; Jimmy, the bar-keeper, havinginformed him of the fact. He had sauntered into Chickasaw Pete's placeas was his wont, soon after breakfast on the same morning that Pearl hadwalked in the mesquite alleys with Flick. This he selected as the mostagreeable place in which he could while away the time until a suitablehour for either seeking Pearl, or else hastening to keep an appointmentwith her. And Jimmy, with the same instinct that a squirrel hides nuts,hoarded such chance bits of gossip as came his way and brought them outone by one for the delectation of those with whom he conversed.
"Hello, Paloma Morning Journal!" called Hanson as he entered the door,his large, genial presence radiating optimism and good cheer. "How manybig black headlines this morning?"
Jimmy's smile made creases in his round, red cheeks above his whitelinen jacket. "Pretty shy of headlines," he chuckled. "Nothing but a fewpersonals."
"No murders, no lynchings, nor merry cowboys on bucking broncos shootingup the town?" exclaimed Hanson, in affected dismay. "My! My! What isthe West coming to? I'm afraid you ain't serving them the right kind ofpoison, Jimmy."
"It's so bad I won't touch it myself." Jimmy defended himself withprofessional pride. "Have some?"
"Not I. I got to be going, anyway."
Seeing that Hanson was about to follow this intention, Jimmy drew forthhis first nut. "Bob Flick got back last night," he said, and then,abashed by the meagerness of this bit of information, attempted toenhance its value. "I'd like to know," leaning his elbow on the bar andhis chin in his hand, "I'd like to know where he went and what he wentfor."
Hanson did not alter his lounging pose and yet, indefinably, hisattitude became more tense, as if, in a quick riveting of attention,every sense had become alert. "He's doing a good mining business, ain'the?" he spoke carelessly. "I should think there would be a good manythings that would take him out of Paloma."
"Oh, 'course," conceded Jimmy, "but don't you know how you kind of feelthings sometimes. Well, you listen to me, there's something queer aboutthis trip." He half closed his eyes and shook his head mysteriously.
"Come, now, Jimmy," Hanson's tone was bantering; he rapped on the bar inplayful emphasis, but there was anxiety in his glance. "You're justtrying to work up a little excitement. A show down now, a show down."
"Kid me all you please," chuckled Jimmy, with imperturbable good humor,"but, take it from me, something special's been doing. Bob's not one totalk about his or any one's else business, but if he's going off on anylittle trip he's likely to mention it. And, when he comes back, he'lltell you this or that he's seen or heard, just like other folks. Butthis time, not a word. Glum as an oyster. You just bet," Jimmyemphasized the statement with a series of nods, "that somethin's goingon. Him and Gallito have had their heads too close. And that old fox isusually up to some mischief."
"What kind?" asked Hanson quickly.
"I don't know," answered Jimmy, and Hanson saw to his relief that thebar-keeper was sincere, and that he was to his own manifest regret asignorant as he appeared. "But," he added shrewdly, "you been taking up agood deal of the Pearl's time and attention, and Bob ain't going tostand that from anybody very long."
"He ain't, ain't he?" the insolence of Hanson's tone was touched withtriumph.
"No," said Jimmy simply, "he ain't; and so I kind of feel that this tripof his had something to do with you. And, say, Mr. Hanson," there was atouch of embarrassment in his voice, "you and me's been pretty goodfriends since you been here, and I thought I'd just give you the tip."
Hanson did not answer for a second, and then he looked up with one ofhis most open and genial smiles. "Thanks, Jimmy," he said heartily."Always glad to get the straight tip. I've been so anxious since I'vebeen here to sign up with the Black Pearl that maybe, considering Mr.Bob Flick, I haven't been very discreet in the way I've been chasingthere." He leaned his elbow on the bar and assumed a more confidentialmanner. "But, say, it's funny the way every one speaks the same aboutGallito. Hints everywhere, but no facts. What is it about him, anyway?"He either could not or did not conceal that he awaited a reply witheagerness.
"I wish I knew." Jimmy spoke with the utmost sincerity. "Folks whisperand shake their heads, but there's nothing to lay a finger on. I'vetried to pump Mrs. Gallito more than once, but if she knows anything shekeeps it dark. She's afraid of me, anyway. She always says: 'Oh, Jimmy,you're such a gossip!' Me!" He was really injured. "I guess if everybodydid as little gossiping as I do this world would be a heap sight betterplace."
"Sure," agreed Hanson cordially; and this time his smile was genuinelyexpressive of his thankful and undisguised relief. By what seemed to himan almost incredible piece of good luck, considering the mutualpredilection of Mrs. Gallito and Jimmy for gossip, his secret was stillintact.
He straightened up involuntarily, and stood a moment deep in thought,his unseeing gaze fixed on a row of bottles on a shelf behind Jimmy. Hepicked up an apple which Jimmy had left on the bar and turned it aroundin his hands, apparently considering the effect of its scarlet stripeson a green surface. Then he threw back his shoulders and laughed aloud."Bill Jones left a peckful of luscious apples in ye editorial sanctumto-day," he said gaily. "Come again, Bill," and laying the fruit down,turned away, Jimmy's delighted chuckles following him to the door andbeyond.
Outside, he hesitated a moment, and then turned in the direction of thelittle railroad station. Seeing him, the weedy youth who acted as agentbrought his chair, tilted back at an almost impossible angle, to theearth, took his feet down from a table, laid aside an old and batteredmagazine and expressed devout gratitude to heaven that any one shouldrelieve what he was pleased to term his solitary confinement.
Hanson took the chair pushed toward him and for nearly an hour discussedevents in the outside world, and the various phases of his profession inwhat the agent found a most entertaining manner. Finally he looked athis watch, murmured something about an engagement and rose to go."Well," he said at parting, "I expect the next time I see you I'll bebuying a ticket."
"Going to leave us soon?" asked the youth regretfully.
"Not to-day," smiled the manager, "but soon. Oh, by the way, now I thinkof it--is there a train goes straight from here to Colina?"
"Not straight. You got to change twice; once at the junction and once atthe branch."
"And what kind of a place is there to stay at? Any hotel?"
"I don't know. Not much of one, I guess. Gallito would know. But he'sgot his own cabin, ain't he? That's so. Why don't you ask Bob Flick?He's just been up there. I sold him a ticket the other day, and he gotback on the train yesterday evening. Thanks," taking the cigar Hansonoffered. "So long."
With his suspicions thus definitely confirmed, Hanson wasted no time infollowing his inclinations and seeking the Pearl in her own home, buthis delay had cost him a word with her, and he did not arrive at theGallito house until after she and Bob Flick had left. This was the firstuntoward event in a successful morning, but he concealed his chagrinand, with his usual adaptability to circumstances, exerted himself to beagreeable to Mrs. Gallito, not without hope of gaining more or lessvaluable information.
Mrs. Gallito was in one of her sighing moods. In spite of all themethods of protection which she and Hughie had utilized the coyotesstill continued to commit their depredations upon her chicken yard anddaily to make way with her choicest "broilers" and "fryers." Also shehad shipped several large consignments of sweet potatoes to the easternmarkets and, instead of their being, as usual, snapped up by epicures atenormous prices, they had fallen, through competition with othershippers, almost to the price of the ordinary variety--desert sweetpotatoes, too.
Life, she averred, was hard, almost a failure. Sometimes things wentsort of smooth and you thought it wasn't so bad, and then everythingwent wrong.
"Oh, not everything," said Hanson, with a rather perfunctory attempt atconsolation.
"Yes
, sir, everything"--dolefully she creaked back and forth in herrocking-chair--"everything. Here's Gallito, the luckiest man at cardsever was, and he's been losing steady for three nights, and he's gettingblacker and sourer and stiller every minute. Oh, if him and Pearl wouldonly talk when things go wrong with 'em. It would seem so naturaland--and--humanlike."
"Back in the old sawdust days," she continued reminiscently, "whenthings went wrong in the circus, everybody'd be screaming at each other,calling names and threatening, and often as not throwing anything thatcame handy. They'd get it all out of their systems that way, and therewas nothing left to curdle. But to sit and glower and think and think!Oh, it's awful! Why, even Hughie, he'll talk and pound the piano like hewas going to break the poor thing to pieces; but this Spanish way ofPearl and her father! Oh, my!" Mrs. Gallito shook her head and carefullywiped a tear from her eye, before it could make a disfiguring rivuletdown the paint and powder on her cheek.
"It can't be so much fun, all things considered," conceded Hanson.
"Fun!" Mrs. Gallito merely looked at him. "When I think of what lifeused to be! Lots of work, but just as much excitement. Why, I was awfulpretty, Mr. Hanson," a real flush rose on her faded cheek, "and I hadlots of admiration, 'deed I did."
"You don't need to tell me that," said Hanson. "I guess I got eyes."
"And when I married Gallito," she went on, "I was awful happy. I guessI was soft, but I always wanted to love some one and be loved a wholelot, and I thought that was what was going to happen, but it didn't. Ioften wonder what he married me for. But," her voice was poignant withwistfulness, "I would have liked to have been loved, I would."
Hanson nodded understandingly and without speaking, this time, anexpression of real sympathy in his eyes. She was weak and silly. She wasdyed and painted and powdered almost to the point of being grotesque,and yet, in voicing the universal longing, she became real, and human,and touching.
They sat in silence for a few moments, Hanson giving Mrs. Gallito anopportunity to recover her self-control, while he devoted his attentionto Lolita, who had sidled up to him and was gazing at him evilly, readyto nip him malevolently should he attempt the familiarity of scratchingher head.
Mrs. Gallito, alive to the courtesies of the occasion, had succeeded inchoking back her sobs, and now she endeavored to turn the conversationinto less personal channels. "Bob Flick got back yesterday."
"Where's he been traveling?" asked the manager easily. "He can't havegone so very far, hasn't been gone long enough."
Mrs. Gallito leaned forward carefully. "He's been to Colina and, Mr.Hanson, I think his trip had something to do with you. Him and Gallitotalked late last night. I tried my best to hear what they were saying,"naively, "but I couldn't for a long while, and then Gallito said outloud: 'Who's going to tell her, you or me?'
"And Bob kind of waited a minute and then he said: 'Me. You'd only stirher up and make her obstinate. But, God!' he said, sighing awful heavy,'I wish I didn't have to.'"
"I'll bet he does," muttered Hanson, and throwing back his head laughedaloud.
She looked at him doubtfully, as if surprised at his manner of receivingher information. "Is it funny?" she asked.
"Not for Bob," still vindictively amused.
"I suppose something's gone wrong with her contract with Sweeney, and hecan hold her to it, or else have the law on her," ventured Mrs. Gallito."That's all I can think of to stir them up so."
"I guess that must be it," agreed Hanson. "Eh, Lolita?"
"Here comes Gallito now." She leaned forward suddenly, shielding hereyes with her hand. "Yes, it's him, sure. Why, I thought he'd gone tothe mines and wouldn't be back to-day."
Gallito was riding slowly toward the house, his head bent, his frowninggaze fixed before him. Nevertheless, he had seen his wife's guest, and,after taking his horse back to the stable, he made his appearance on theporch. He shook hands with Hanson with his usual punctilious courtesy,and then, turning to Mrs. Gallito, remarked without ceremony:
"Mr. Hanson and I have business matters to discuss and you have dutieswithin; but first bring the small table, the cognac and some glasses."
His wife wasted no time in doing his bidding, setting forth the articlesrequired with a timid and practiced celerity. But even after the brandyhad been tasted and praised by Hanson, and his appreciation of itaccepted with a grave Spanish bow by Gallito, the latter had made nomove to open the conversation, but had insisted upon his guest tryinghis cigarettes and giving an opinion upon their merits.
Again Hanson was complaisant, extolling them as worthy to accompany thecognac, and after that a silence fell between them. Gallito sat puffinghis cigarette, watching with half closed eyes the smoke wreaths curlupward, while Hanson waited patiently, smoking his cigarette in turnwith an admirable show of indifference.
"The old fox!" thought he scornfully. "Does he hope to bluff me intogiving myself away?"
Finally Gallito spoke, directly and to the point, surprising the otherman, in spite of himself, by a most unexpected lack of diplomaticsubterfuge and subtlety.
"I received a letter from Sweeney yesterday," he drew it slowly from hispocket, "and he doubles his offer to my daughter, making her salary,practically, what you are willing to pay her. Now, Mr. Hanson, youroffer is very fine. I appreciate it; my daughter appreciates it; but shecannot accept it. She treated Sweeney badly, very badly. She is anuntaught child, headstrong, wilful," his brow darkened, "but she mustlearn that a contract is a contract." He took another sip of cognac."She will go back to Sweeney."
He slightly shrugged his shoulders and spread out his hands as if tosay: "I deprecate this for your sake, but the question is definitelysettled; I beg you, therefore, to advance no useless counter-arguments."
But Hanson ignored this unspoken request. "I'm sorry you feel that wayabout it," he said, "but your daughter is of age. I guess I'll wait andsee what she has to say about this." He spoke pleasantly, almostcarelessly, no hint of a threat in his tone, at least.
Gallito looked at him from under his brows in surprise, then he laughed,one single, menacing note. "My daughter will say what I have said."
"I'm not so sure," returned Hanson, and had some difficulty inrestraining himself from speaking violently. Then he forced the issue.
"Look here, Gallito," he cried, "what's all this about, anyway? I camedown here to the desert anxious to secure the Black Pearl as a newattraction for my vaudeville houses. I see her and I know that she's allto the good. So, banking on my own judgment, I make her an offer that'smore than generous, just because I've the courage of my convictions andam willing to back my enthusiasms. Sometimes I win, sometimes I lose,"he snapped his fingers lightly, "but I'm always ready to take thechances.
"Well--what happens? In the first place, instead of jumping at my offer,like any sensible man would--I'm talking plain now, Gallito--you got todrag Sweeney into the game, which, look at it any way you please,wasn't particularly square. Pah!" scornfully, pitching his cigarettewith a single muscular sweep of the arm into the heart of the garden,"you don't know it or you wouldn't have been talking to me like youhave, but I've got Sweeney pigeon-holed, know all his resources, andknow positively that he can't come up to my offer. I tell you what,Gallito, it's cards on the table now, and," he tapped the table betweenthem with his knuckles, "I'm politely requesting you to draw your niggerfrom the woodpile."
Gallito's glance was like the stab of a poignard. "But this is strangetalk." He drew back haughtily. "I do not have to make explanations. Ihave my daughter's interests at heart."
"Yes, I know," interrupted Hanson, "but the black man, the black man.Out with him."
Gallito's face had grown livid, his mouth had tightened until it wasdrawn and pinched. "Have it, then," he growled. "Sweeney's straight.Sweeney hasn't left one wife in Colina while he eloped with one of hishead-liners. He's not in one scrape after another with a woman, untilhe's a joke in the coast newspapers, and every woman he features in hisshows has got a black smirch on her--"
/> "By God, you've got your nerve," cried Hanson violently, interruptinghim.
Gallito made a deprecating motion with his hands, as if to say: "Don'tmention it, I beg of you," and then carefully selected another cigarettefrom the box between them. "My nerve is something that rarely desertsme, Mr. Hanson," he replied, "but I wish to finish what I was saying.My daughter has a future. She will not only be a great dancer, but shehas the making of a great actress in her, too. And Dios!" he stillmaintained his cold restraint, but now, in spite of himself, his tonesvibrated with passion, "just at the beginning of her career, to be madecheap by you, or any like you--"
He lifted his hooded hawk's eyes and looked at Hanson, who in turnlooked boldly back at him with something indefinable yet unmistakable,something that was not only defiance, but also a threat in the blaze ofhis angry eyes.
And Gallito caught it and raised his brows ever so slightly, ponderingsurprisedly for a moment, and then resolutely putting the matter asidefor the present. But Hanson continued to gaze across the table at him.
"Read me my pedigree, ain't you?" he snarled. "All right. Now just letme tell you something, Gallito. I take my answer from your daughter, andfrom no one else. Understand?"
"No," returned Gallito, "I do not understand."
Hanson controlled himself with difficulty. For a moment it was on thetip of his tongue to tell Gallito that the latter's connivance in theescape of the notorious Crop-eared Jose was known to him; also, he wasperfectly cognizant of the present whereabouts of that much-desiredperson, and that he, Hanson, had but to step to the telegraph office andsend a wire to Los Angeles, and not only Jose, but Gallito would be incustody before night. An admirable method for securing Gallito'sconsent to his daughter's acceptance of this professional engagementwhich Hanson offered. But, carefully considered, it had its flaws, andHanson was not the man to overlook them. Indeed, he sat there in abaffled and furious silence, going over them mentally and viewing themfrom every possible angle.
In the first place, it was extremely doubtful if, after communicatinghis knowledge to Gallito, he would ever be permitted to reach thetelegraph station, and, in the second place, he would, he was convinced,have not only Gallito, but the, to him, more formidable Bob Flick todeal with. Therefore, and most reluctantly, he decided to keep hisinformation and his threats to himself for the present and, certainly,until he was better able to enforce the latter.
But, as he told himself, twisting his shoulders irritably, there wassomething about this old Spaniard which got on his nerves. A quality ofcomposed patience, as if he, at least, never doubted the successfuloutcome of his plans; a rock-like imperturbability against whichviolence or vituperation shattered itself and fell harmless.
"Look here, Gallito," again he adopted a conciliatory manner, leaninghis elbows on the table, as if prepared for a long discussion, afterfirst helping himself to another glass of cognac and a fresh cigarette,"what's the use of a row, anyway? Now, why can't we come to someagreement. What you say about your daughter's abilities is all true,every word of it. That's the reason I'm so keen to get her. I know, andI'm frank enough to confess it, that out here in the desert, with notmuch to think about, on a vacation, and all, why--I kind of lost my headabout her. She's a beautiful woman, Gallito, no need to tell you that.But you know, and I know, that a man can always shut down on that sortof thing if he's got to. My reputation ain't what it ought to be, no oneknows that better than I, or feels it more; but, honest to God, Gallito,I ain't as black as I've been painted. No man is, probably. Now, what Igot to say is this--"
"No need to say it, Mr. Hanson," interrupted Gallito, who had beentwisting his mouth wryly during these remarks.
Again Hanson concealed his rising anger, although the color rose in hischeeks. "Now just let me talk a minute, Gallito." He spread out hishands placatingly. "The proposition I'm going to make you is this: MissGallito tells me that her mother traveled with her when she was younger,and even now, when she can spare the time from her farming, she goes outon the road with the young lady. Now, why not have a purely businessarrangement. Let Miss Pearl sign up with me, and then we'll coax hermother to go with her. I should think that would satisfy you. It oughtto satisfy any one, for a girl's mother to go with her."
"Of course," the Spaniard bowed with stately courtesy, but not beforehad his smile been so sardonic. "As you say, every one should besatisfied with such an arrangement and, let me say, it is one that wouldgreatly please me, but as I told you before, Mr. Hanson, it cannot be.My daughter must keep her contract with Sweeney."
At white heat, Hanson rose and pushed back his chair. "Hell!" he cried."What am I up against, anyway! Give some people the earth and itwouldn't suit 'em. But you can take this from me, Gallito," he leanedforward and pounded his fist on the table, "I don't take my answer fromyou. We'll see what the Black Pearl has got to say. The Black Pearlsmirched by going out with me!" He laughed aloud.
He fell back frightened as Gallito half rose from his chair, and then,to his unbounded surprise, the Spaniard sat down again and softly rubbedhis hands together. Hanson had a fleeting and most disturbing impressionof the old man gloating over some secret and pleasant prospect.
Lolita had balanced herself on the edge of the table and Gallito bentforward and scratched her head, making little clucking noises in histhroat the while: "Our guest is a great poker player, Lolita, heunderstands how to make a bluff, but," again that single grating note ofa laugh, "assure him, my Lolita, that he will be cold-decked."
Again Hanson was almost betrayed into making his threat then and there.He leaned forward and shook his forefinger under the Spaniard's eyes,his face was purple, but just in time he remembered himself, closed hismouth and drew back.
"Bob, Bob," croaked Lolita, "mi jasmin Pearl, mi corazon."
"A most intelligent bird, you see, Mr. Hanson," observed Gallito, withsaturnine politeness.
Hanson turned away impatiently. "I will see your daughter thisafternoon," he said.
Gallito had begun to roll a fresh cigarette, but now, checking himselfabruptly, he threw a long comprehensive glance at the cloudless brazensky, and then, squinting his eyes, studied for a second or two theequally brazen desert.
"I think not, Mr. Hanson," he said, with assured finality in his voice."I do not think you will see my daughter to-day. What? Going so soon?Another glass of cognac? No. Adios, then. Adios."