Over the Border: A Novel Read online

  II: OVER THE BORDER

  That night the Three put up at the _cantina_ in the little adobe town ofLas Bocas, where, by reason of occasional largesses to the leader of therevolutionary faction that happened to be on top, a welcome was alwayscertain. Just now it was more particularly so because the present_jefe-politico_, a Carranzista, varied his political activities byacting as "fence" in the disposal of their plunder.

  In accordance with his advice, the following afternoon found themapproaching the American border at a point far west of their usualsphere of operations. While they journeyed the sun slid down its westernslant till it hung like a smoky lamp in the far dust of the desert.Behind them the sea of sage still ran off to distant mountains, but thesunset glow washed its dust away, draping the land in a royal robe.Ahead the grade was rising imperceptibly but steadily to a sparse grasscountry where the sage, _palo verde_, and yucca gave place to huge_sahuaros_ that strewed the plain with their fluted barrels like thejade columns of some vast ruin. Among them roamed the flocks and herdsof a pink-walled _hacienda_ that nestled in a grove of lordlycottonwoods. As they rode past, the Three noted with appraising glancesthe sleek hides of a fine bunch of steers.

  "Dress a thousand pounds of beef apiece," Jake opined.

  "Worth eighty pesos, gold, on the hoof, in El Paso," Sliver yearninglyadded.

  But their interest went no further--for reasons that appeared when, atsundown, they rode past the concrete pillar that marked theinternational boundary. Rustler that he was, drunkard and gambler,utterly worthless if the reports current on the New Mexican ranges wereto be believed, Sliver's eye nevertheless lit up at the sight of it; theglow on his hard face was not all sunset reflection.

  "The good old U.S.," he commented. "_Some_ country!"

  "He wasn't talking that way las' time we crossed." Jake winked at Bull.

  "Guess not. He was cussing Cristobel Columbo for ever having discoveredit."

  "That's right," Sliver admitted. "But I was what you-all might call in abit of a hurry with a squad of rangers streaking at my heels. Otherthings being ekal--"

  "Which they ain't," Jake interrupted. "Mexico's good enough for me.Mexico an' revolution! For I tell you right now that if Porfirio Diazwas still boss, his rurales would have taken right holt where therangers left off. Instead of dangling from a pine on the American side,we'd hev' finished with a fusillado on this. But with the governmentswitching every five minutes between Orozco, Villa, Huerta, Carranza,an' the jefe-politicos an' governors slaughtering each otherbetween-whiles, it's nobody's business to look after us. We make ourlittle sneaks across the border an' return in peace an' quiet. So 'Vivala revolucion!' That reminds me--where're you heading, Bull?"

  "Livingstone _rancho_ on the Little Stoney."

  "Say, but that's horses! Don't they run 'em into the corrals at night?"

  The big rustler nodded. "All the easier to find, an' after you once getthem moving it don't take three days to run 'em over the line. Besides,Don Manuel tol' me at Las Bocas yesterday that the Carranzistas areneeding heavy horses for their artillery over on the Coast. He'll payfifty pesos apiece an' take his chance on a five-thousand-per-centprofit after the old gentleman grabs the presidential chair." Heemphatically concluded, "_Horses_, you bet!"

  "Some risky, cutting 'em out?" Sliver, too, looked dubious.

  "Not as much as you think. Did you never have some flea-bitten son of agun rub down the bars while you slept plumb up against the corral an'wake next morning to find nary a head in sight? A horse don't like acorral any more'n a man loves prison. The bars once down, you kin trust'em to soft-foot it out to the open. Why"--his grin at the remembranceset a flash of good-nature in his hard face--"why, I've seen an old naglook back at a colt that kicked the bars passing out just like he wassaying, 'You damn young fool! now you've upset the soup!' Leave it tome. I'll work 'em out on foot while you sit tight an' hold my horse.Moon's going to be jest about right, too. She'll be taking her firstpeep about the time we get 'em out in the clear. It'll be a pipe, then,to saddle up fresh beasts an' shoot 'em over the border."

  The _rancho_ for which they were heading lay still two hours away, andwhile they rode the _sahuaro_ pillars gave place in turn to _pinon_ andjuniper thinly strewn over rolling grassland. Before night settled down,the wandering cattle-trails they had followed drew into the twin ruts ofa wagon-road. Their going was timed by the moon. But it stole out frombehind a low hill a trifle ahead of schedule. By its first dim radiancethey made out the dark mass of the _rancho_ buildings, house, corrals,stables, in a swale between two hills. It was, however, dark enough fortheir purpose, and, leaving his horse with the others, Bull went forwardon foot.

  It was nervous work, sitting there watching the buildings take formunder the waxing moon. Their strained senses took every sound, smell,and sight; a dog's bark, click of horns as a steer scratched hisforehead on the top rail of a corral, the impatient pawing of a horse,the warm cattle odor that floated on the night breeze. Dim, uncertainshapes seemed to form and fade in the nearer gloom. They were nervous ascats by the time a gun suddenly flashed under the dark porch of thehouse.

  The croupy cough of a child plus the nervous fears of its mother did it.Not that the woman saw Bull when she drew the curtain and peeped out.But these days, with a new revolution breaking, as Jake put it, "everyfive minutes" over the border, the American ranchers along theinternational line slept always with an eye open for possible raids. Sofar as Bull was concerned, her whisper was just as fatal as though shehad seen him.

  "Pa! get up! I'm sure there's some one out there!"

  Perhaps the rancher did see. Educated in objects moving through dusk,his plainsman's eye may have noticed movement. Or perhaps he shot onchance. In either case he was quickly informed by the roar and clatterof hoofs that followed, for though Bull did not expect, now, to get awaywith a single head, pursuit would be blinded and divided by stampedingthe beasts. Dropping the bars while the gun continued to flash itsstaccato warnings, he started the animals out, leaped on the back ofone; as soon as it cleared the huddle, went shooting down the trail,guiding the animal with the swing of his body.

  Unfortunately, the whim that governs a stampede moved the other beaststo follow. So when the rancher and his men--in shirts and trousers, butnot one without a gun--pulled their mounts out of the stables, theirpursuit was guided by the distant thunder of hoofs. Neither did Bull'squick change to his own beast divert the stampede. When the Threegalloped on, the scared animals still followed like dogs at their heels.

  "First time my prey ever chased me!" Jake laughed harshly, looking backat the band. "If old man Livingstone don't follow too close we'll get'em yet!"

  Bull shook his head. "Not with the moon sailing up to her full an' thecritters leaving a trail broad as a pike road. Listen to that!"

  A sharp report punctuated the thud and clatter of the stampede; thefirst shot of a fusillade that grew hotter and hotter as the horsestrailed off right and left, leaving the rustlers more exposed. As yetthey were running in the shadow of a long hill where the light was poor.But half a mile ahead lay an open plain unbroken by cover.

  "They'll shoot the lights outen us there!" Sliver prophesied. "Bettermake a stan' while we can."

  "They _are_ getting sassy," Jake agreed, as a bullet whizzed under hischin. "We'll have to teach 'em this ain't no turkey-shoot."

  The deciding word came, as usual, from Bull. "They'd surround an' holdus for the posse. You ride on while I check 'em. If they try to round meit'll be up to you to take 'em from the rear. Get behind so's they don'tsee me turn."

  In the faint light his sudden whirl behind a bush went unnoticed. He hadalready unshipped his rifle from the saddle slings, and through theupper branches he took careful aim. A hundred yards away Livingstone wascoming at full gallop, about the same distance ahead of his men. Bullwaited till he could see the old fellow's hair, silver in the moonlight,framing his angry red face. Once the sights lined up level between theeyes. But muttering, "I ked sure spoil your
beauty, but--I won't," Bulllowered them to the horse's chest and fired.

  With the report the beast plunged forward, head and neck doubled under,throwing his rider out in the clear. Though badly shaken, the old manwas up the next instant, and as he ran for cover his sudden change ofexpression from anger to flustered surprise drew from Bull a grin.

  "Teach you not to get so fresh."

  At the crack of the rifle the others had also darted for cover, and astheir guns began to spit and flash from the chaparral along thehillside, Bull laughed outright. "Not a rifle among 'em. Easy going!Hasta luego, senores! Some other time!"

  One or two bolder spirits emerged from the chaparral as Bull rode out inthe open. But they scuttled back like rabbits as he swung in the saddlewith leveled rifle. Though they followed till the boundary pillar stoodout, two hours later, a shining silver shaft under the brilliant moon,they preserved always a safe distance, and Bull denied Sliver'ssuggestion to "chuck a volley" into the dim mass.

  "Kain't you leave your Uncle Samuel sleep? He ain't a-going to be movedoff his 'watchful waiting' by the loss of no horse, but if we go tokilling folks, he's sure going to take time to catch our goat b'twixtrevolutions."

  "To-morrow morning," Jake commented, grinning, "the morning papers willbe running scareheads an inch high about the 'Latest Border Outrage!'Meanwhile we'll be jogging home--"

  "--without the horses," Bull dryly finished.

  "An' Rosa, back at the roost," Sliver added, "howling for coffee an'flour an' grease."

  Which reminded Jake of their former argument: "I told you we orter ha'bought more whisky. Nothing left but to ride back to Las Bocas an' hitDon Miguel for credit."