They all packed guns, was fightin' mad at Greasers, an' sore on the good old U. S. But shore glad to get over the line! Some were waitin' for trains, which don't run reg'lar no more, an' others were ready to hit the trails north."
"Laddy, what knocks me is Rojas holding Thorne prisoner, trying to make him tell where Mercedes had been hidden," said Belding.
"Shore. It 'd knock anybody."
"The bandit's crazy over her. That's the Spanish of it," replied Belding, his voice rolling. "Rojas is a peon. He's been a slave to the proud Castilian. He loves Mercedes as he hates her. When I was down in Durango I saw something of these peons' insane passions. Rojas wants this girl only to have her, then kill her.
It's damn strange, boys, and even with Thorne here our troubles have just begun."
"Tom, you spoke correct," said Jim Ladd, in his cool drawl.
"Shore I'm not sayin' what I think," added Ladd. But the look of him was not indicative of a tranquil optimism.
Thorne was put to bed in Gale's room. He was very weak, yet he would keep Mercedes's hand and gaze at her with unbelieving eyes.
Mercedes's failing hold on hope and strength seemed to have been a fantasy; she was again vivid, magnetic, beautiful, shot through and through with intense and throbbing life. She induced him to take food and drink. Then, fighting sleep with what little strength he had left, at last he succumbed.
For all **** could ascertain his friend never stirred an eyelash nor a finger for twenty-seven hours. When he awoke he was pale, weak, but the old Thorne.
"Hello, ****; I didn't dream it then," he said. "There you are, and my darling with the proud, dark eyes--she's here?"
"Why, yes, you locoed cavalryman."
"Say, what's happened to you? It can't be those clothes and a little bronze on your face....****, you're older--you've changed.
You're not so thickly built. By Gad, if you don't look fine!"
"Thanks. I'm sorry I can't return the compliment. You're about the seediest, hungriest-looking fellow I ever saw....Say, old man, you must have had a tough time."
A dark and somber fire burned out the happiness in Thorne's eyes.
"****, don't make me--don't let me think of that fiend Rojas!....I'm here now. I'll be well in a day or two. Then!..."
Mercedes came in, radiant and soft-voiced. She fell upon her knees beside Thorne's bed, and neither of them appeared to see Nell enter with a tray. Then Gale and Nell made a good deal of unnecessary bustle in moving a small table close to the bed. Mercedes had forgotten for the moment that her lover had been a starving man.
If Thorne remembered it he did not care. They held hands and looked at each other without speaking.
"Nell, I thought I had it bad," whispered ****. "But I'm not--"
"Hush. It's beautiful," replied Nell, softly; and she tried to coax **** from the room.
****, however, thought he ought to remain at least long enough to tell Thorne that a man in his condition could not exist solely upon love.
Mercedes sprang up blushing with pretty, penitent manner and moving white hands eloquent of her condition.
"Oh, Mercedes--don't go!" cried Thorne, as she stepped to the door.
"Senor **** will stay. He is not mucha malo for you--as I am."
Then she smiled and went out.
"Good Lord!" exclaimed Thorne. "How I love her. ****, isn't she the most beautiful, the loveliest, the finest--"
"George, I share your enthusiasm," said ****, dryly, "but Mercedes isn't the only girl on earth."
Manifestly this was a startling piece of information, and struck Thorne in more than one way.
"George," went on ****, "did you happen to observe the girl who saved your life--who incidentally just fetched in your breakfast?"
"Nell Burton! Why, of course. She's brave, a wonderful girl, and really nice-looking."
"You long, lean, hungry beggar! That was the young lady who might answer the raving eulogy you just got out of your system....I--well, you haven't cornered the love market!"
Thorne uttered some kind of a sound that his weakened condition would not allow to be a whoop.
"****! Do you mean it?"
"I shore do, as Laddy says."
"I'm glad, ****, with all my heart. I wondered at the changed look you wear. Why, boy, you've got a different front....Call the lady in, and you bet I'll look her over right. I can see better now."
"Eat your breakfast. There's plenty of time to dazzle you afterward."
Thorne fell to upon his breakfast and made it vanish with magic speed.
Meanwhile **** told him something of a ranger's life along the border.
"You needn't waste your breath," said Thorne. "I guess I can see.
Belding and those rangers have made you the real thing--the real Western goods....What I want to know is all about the girl."
"Well, Laddy swears she's got your girl roped in the corral for looks."
"That's not possible. I'll have to talk to Laddy....But she must be a wonder, or **** Gale would never have fallen for her....Isn't it great, ****? I'm here! Mercedes is well--safe! You've got a girl! Oh!....But say, I haven't a dollar to my name. I had a lot of money, ****, and those robbers stole it, my watch--everything.
Damn that little black Greaser! He got Mercedes's letters. I wish you could have seen him trying to read them. He's simply nutty over her, ****. I could have borne the loss of money and valuables--but those beautiful, wonderful letters--they're gone!"
"Cheer up. You have the girl. Belding will make you a proposition presently. The future smiles, old friend. If this rebel business was only ended!"
"****, you're going to be my savior twice over....Well, now, listen to me." His gay excitement changed to earnet gravity. "I want to marry Mercedes at once. Is there a padre here?"
"Yes. But are you wise in letting any Mexican, even a priest, know Mercedes is hidden in Forlorn River?"
"It couldn't be kept much longer."
Gale was compelled to acknowledge the truth of this statement.
"I'll marry her first, then I'll face my problem. Fetch the padre, ****. And ask our kind friends to be witnesses at the ceremony."