In the West, in time of prosperity, positions and opportunities of every sort go begging. In time of depression there is no harder place in which to get work.
To make matters worse, Stephen from principle had always refused to affiliate6 himself with one of the labor2 organizations, and in Dominion the power of the union is paramount7. Once he had almost persuaded the foreman at one of the smelters to put him on the rolls; but when the fact had appeared that he was a non-union man the official had changed his mind.
[164]
“I can’t risk it. It is all wrong; but if I was to hire you to-day, why to-morrow I wouldn’t have three men working.” This had been his final answer.
Shortly after this experience, Loring had been approached by a delegate who had tried to persuade him to join the Miners’ union. The delegate had enumerated8 the advantages, and they were many,—a sick benefit of ten dollars a week, friends wherever he should go, work at high wages, and a seventy-five dollar funeral when he died. The delegate had asked Stephen if it were fair that when the union, by concerted action, had brought about the prevailing9 high scale of wages, outsiders should both share the advantage, and yet weaken the union position by working contrary to the fixed10 scale. At the end, as a peroration11, the man had cited the possibilities of crushing capital at the polls, arguing with the general point of view of such men, that the chief aim of capital was to crush labor.
“You needn’t pay your dues until you get your first month’s wages,” he had concluded.
Stephen had begun to feel that perhaps his anti-union convictions had been prejudiced, for[165] the man had clearly shown many good arguments. Then the delegate, seeing that Stephen was weakening, had thought to clinch12 the matter. Changing his manner, he had shaken his finger in Loring’s face and said: “If you don’t join the union, we’ll see to it that you don’t get a job in the territory. We’ll send your picture to every camp in Arizona, and life will be hell for you. There was a man only last week who wouldn’t join. He is in the hospital now, and, by Gawd, he will stay there for a while.”
“That settles it,” Loring had answered.
The man had become all smiles again.
“I thought you would see it that way,” he had rejoined.
“I think that you misunderstand me,” had been Stephen’s reply. “I would not join your union if you hired me to do so. As a matter of fact, the Miners’ union here is not a true labor union. It is a thugs’ union, and the sooner all honest workingmen find it out, the better for the cause of unionism throughout the country.”
The scuffle that had ensued had resulted in Loring’s favor, but it had not helped him to find work.
[166]
One morning, rather from want of occupation than from any definite expectations, Stephen took his place in the post-office at the general delivery window. He was greatly surprised when, in answer to his inquiry13, the clerk slipped a letter through the grating. It bore the Quentin postmark; but the writing was unfamiliar14. Stephen walked across the room, and leaning in the doorway15 opened the letter with curiosity. It was from Mr. Cameron, and ran in this fashion:
“Quentin, September 20th.
“Stephen Loring.
“Dear Sir: I suppose that you realize how final your actions here must be in regard to any trust being placed in you. I shall say no more upon the subject. The fact remains16 that unfortunately I am in your debt.”
Stephen read this sentence over several times before continuing:
“I feel bound to make one more effort to repay you, which must be regarded as final. I have interests in several companies in Montana, and I will offer you a position with one of them, on the understanding that you will never come into my way again or—”
here several words were scratched out
“You must realize how unpleasant it is for my daughter to be under any obligation to a man, who, to put the[167] matter plainly, is a worthless drunkard. In offering this position to you, I may as well say that this is the only motive18 which actuates me. The position is one in which no responsibility is involved, being merely clerical. The pay would be sufficient to maintain you as long as you remain steady. The condition I impose would be absolute.
“Yours truly,
“Donald H. Cameron.”
Stephen noticed with interest the character of the signature.
“I don’t believe that man ever failed at anything,” he thought. “There is only one thing that he never learned, and that is how to deal with a failure.”
It was the noon hour, and the various whistles told of lunch, for some. Stephen read the letter over and over.
“Why not accept the offer?” he questioned. Mr. Cameron could certainly feel no more disrespect for him than he did now, and the blatant19 fact that he was hungry and without work forced itself upon his attention.
“It means another chance,” he muttered, and now that he was sure of himself, he knew that a chance meant success. He thrust the letter into his pocket.
[168]
“Hang it, I’ll take him up,” he thought. “I have been everything else; I may as well be a grafter20.”
As he slid his hand out of his coat pocket, he felt another envelope. He pulled it out, and looked longingly21 at it. It was Jean’s note. He hesitated, then tore it open.
“I need it now, if ever I shall,” he said to himself. There was only a line, signed with Jean’s initials.
“I still believe in you.”
Stephen read it with bowed head. His shoulders shook. The paper danced up and down before his eyes. Over and over he read the note. Unconsciously he stretched out his hand, as if to press in gratitude22 and devotion the hand of some one before him. At length, with a start, he came to himself. He returned the note to his pocket, and in a determined23 fashion walked up to a man who was standing17 near him.
“I would like to borrow two cents for a stamp,” he said.
The stranger roared with laughter.
“Well, you are broke! Say, friend, I’ll stake you to a meal, if you’re that hard up.”
[169]
Stephen shook his head: “No, thank you. I have still my coat, which I can pawn24; but I am much obliged for the stamp.”
He found an odd envelope lying on a table. Going over to the desk, he addressed this to Mr. Cameron. Then taking from the waste basket a sheet of paper, he wrote quickly upon it five words:
“I’m damned if I will.”
He put on the stamp with a hard pound of his fist, and threw the letter into the mail-box. Then, with his heart beating joyously25, he walked out of the post-office. Inside his coat a note lay warm against his heart.
On the corner stood a pawnbroker’s shop. The brightness of the gilding26 upon the three balls showed that it was a successful one. The place was crowded with men who were disposing of everything that duty, a mild sense of decency27, or necessity did not for the moment require. Loring entered the shop, and elbowing his way to the desk, laid down his coat. The proprietor28 picked it up, prodded29 the cloth with his thumb-nail, shook his head over the worn lining30, then said:
[170]
“Two bits on that.”
“That means one meal, anyhow,” he thought.
A gaudy32 sign attracted his attention: “Chinese-American Restaurant”—“All you can eat for two bits.”
“I think that they do not lose much on their sign,” he reflected when, a few minutes later, seated at a counter, he gnawed33 at some bread and stew34, and drank bitter coffee. “Any man who ate more than a quarter’s worth would die.”
Having eaten, he sauntered over to the cashier’s window and nonchalantly slid his quarter across the counter. Then no longer a capitalist, but also no longer hungry, he stepped out into the street again. He looked to right and left wondering in what direction to turn his footsteps. The sight of a crowd in front of the post-office determined him. He questioned a man on the outskirts35 of the group, and found that the excitement was caused by a telegram, the contents of which was posted in the window. Working his way through the crowd, Loring reached a position whence he[171] could make out the notice. The telegram was from the governor of Sonora, the Mexican province which lay just across the line from Dominion.
“Outbreak of Yaquis. No troops near. Would deeply appreciate help from Dominion.”
The crowd was laughing and cheering.
“Me for Old Mexico!” called one.
“Perhaps we’ll all be generals,” shouted another.
The news had spread like wild-fire, and from every direction appeared groups of men, armed with Winchesters, shotguns, or Colts. All were rushing toward the Southern Pacific station. Stephen hurried up the street to a gun store, and by dint36 of hard persuasion37 obtained from the proprietor an old Spencer forty-five calibre, single shot carbine.
“It will at least make a noise,” thought Loring. He joined a group of men who were on their way to the train.
“I might as well go to Mexico as anywhere,” he reflected. “My responsibilities are not heavy just at present.”
Within half an hour after the receipt of the[172] telegram in Dominion, three hundred men, all armed to the teeth, were at the station. For in a region where the sheriff’s posse is one of the regular forms of entertainment, there are many men who joyously start upon an expedition of this kind.
A cheer arose from the crowd when Harry38 Benson, at one time the captain of the “Arizona Rangers39,” appeared upon the scene, clearing a way for himself by the adept40 fashion in which he spat41 tobacco juice.
“Going along, Harry? Good boy,” some one called. “You ought to have brought all the Rangers with you.”
“See here,” answered Benson, “this ain’t in no wise official business. This is sort of a pleasure excursion.” There was a howl of laughter at this, then as the engine whistle blew sharply, all scampered42 for places in the “special” which the railway company had provided.
A man who was on the front platform of one of the cars began to sing a song—a very popular song, of which the verse and chorus were unprintable, but very singable. With men hanging out of the windows, standing on the roofs[173] of the cars, and with platforms and steps jammed, the train pulled out of the station, headed for the Mexican Line, only fifteen miles away.
Half an hour brought them to the border. Here were waiting the governor of Sonora and many Mexicans, who cheered excitedly as the train drew into the station. Benson, by unanimous consent, was acting43 as director-general of warfare44. As the train slowed down, he jumped to the platform. A Mexican official resplendent in uniform and gold braid, in strange contrast to the motley throng45 following at Benson’s heels, stepped forward to greet him. Benson sang out cheerfully: “Hello, here we are; what is there for us to do?”
While the official was explaining the situation, he looked a bit anxiously at the crowd, hoping that when the trouble was over, they would all depart from the province of Sonora with the same celerity with which they had come. It certainly was a hard-looking aggregation46.
The Governor talked earnestly with Benson, speaking excellent English. “I do not know what to do. According to the laws, no armed force can enter our territory. It is a bad precedent47.[174] And yet we need help. There are no troops near Los Andes where the raiders are feared. Yet the laws are very strict, and as an officer of the law I must not let them be broken. The law says plainly: ‘No armed force.’ What shall I do?” The Governor was in despair over the situation.
Benson saved the day.
“Look here, Gov,” he said. “I used to be an officer of the law myself. A man must conform strictly48 to the laws; I know all about it. But,” he added, with a wink49, “we’re here, just sort of a disorganized party as happened to meet on the train. We was all going hunting near Los Andes, and we sort of came over without formalities.”
The Governor’s face beamed with happiness at this solution.
“It is magnifico! And as the custom-house cannot appraise50 so many weapons at once, you are permitted to carry them, gentlemen. In bond, of course, in bond,” he added hastily.
“Yesterday we had news from the hills that the Yaquis were raiding again,” he said to Benson. “Two prospectors51 were killed, not fifty miles from Los Andes. A bridge on the[175] main line is down. The troops cannot be there for twenty-four hours.”
Benson nodded comprehendingly. “Same old trouble, ain’t it? I wonder these Yaquis wouldn’t get tired. We’ll fix them up good for you if they come.”
These formalities of international law having been settled, all again boarded the train, and a slow hour’s run toward the west brought them to Los Andes.
The inhabitants of this sleepy little town of Old Mexico thronged52 about the station and welcomed their prospective53 rescuers with enthusiasm. Loud cries of “Vivan Los Americanos!” echoed from end to end of the platform, as the men swarmed54 out of the train.
Soon the men were assigned to quarters in the various houses and shops. The plaza55 before the cathedral in the center of the town became, for probably the first time in its existence, a scene of activity.
“The Se?or is the comandante?” he asked in broken English.
[176]
“Sure, Mike, Seguro Miguel—Fire away!” answered Benson.
The ranchman looked puzzled, then commenced to explain his errand. His ranch, it appeared, was situated58 some twenty miles outside the town, in the direction from which the Yaquis were expected, and his ranchmen were all absent upon the range. He asked for five or six men to defend his hacienda:
Benson waved his hand airily, in feeble imitation of the Mexican’s grand manner: “’Sta ’ueno, you shall have them.”
Turning, he saw Loring, who had been listening to the talk. Benson was accustomed to judging men quickly, and he was rarely deceived. A quick survey of Loring’s face satisfied him.
“He is no quitter, anyhow,” he thought, “and at present his moral character don’t matter.” He called to Loring: “Say, you Mr. What’s-your-name, you get four other men and go with this chap to his ranch!”
“Have you caballos for them here?” Benson asked the ranchman.
“Sí, sí, I can procure59 them at once,” exclaimed Se?or Hernandez. “And my gratitude, it is eternal.”
[177]
“Never mind that,” said Benson, turning away.
A very short while sufficed for Stephen to find four volunteers to accompany them, and within an hour the little party was riding out of the town to the southward, where lay the ranch and the threatened pass. The country was desolation itself, rocky ground covered with layers of dust and sand. All was gray in color. The little clusters of sage-brush, all dried and lifeless in the heat, made no change in the gray hue60. The road was merely a track across the desert, beaten by chance horsemen or cattle. Along this the horses scuffled, sending up clouds of alkali dust into the air for the benefit of the riders who were behind.
Stephen rode beside Se?or Hernandez, speaking only in short sentences, to answer or ask some question. The leather of the saddles, beneath the sun, was burning hot.
After four hours of riding, just as the sun was beginning to drop behind the foothills, they saw before them in the desert a large patch of green, as vivid as if painted upon the ground, fresh and succulent, amidst the desolation of the plain.
[178]
“My alfalfa crop!” exclaimed the Se?or, pointing with pride. “We have irrigated61. Much water. Big crop. He aqui la casa—there, behind the alfalfa.”
Stephen saw rise, as if by magic, a long one-story structure of adobe62, so much the color of the earth as to have been till now almost indistinguishable. Beside the house was a large brush corral. So perfectly63 was all blended with the landscape, that not until they were very near did Loring appreciate the great size of the building.
At the corral they dismounted and unsaddled.
“Better carry the saddles up to the house!” said Loring to the men, who had hung them over the corral bars. So, carrying their guns and saddles, they all walked up to the house.
Here they were received by the ranchman’s wife, a striking Spanish beauty.
“It is Se?ora Hernandez,” said the Mexican, with justifiable64 pride. The Se?ora showed the men the rooms where they were to sleep. Stephen, as commander, was given the largest room.
Pepita was very well pleased with the appearance of the defender65 whom her husband[179] had selected, for in spite of his flannel66 shirt and dusty boots, Loring was not bad to look upon.
In a few moments, Stephen re-entered the main room. The Se?ora was there, leaning against one of the easements. The scarf that was thrown over her head added to her charms, and lent a subtlety67 to her dark beauty. As Stephen walked across the room toward her, he admired her greatly.
“By George! She is a beauty,” he exclaimed under his breath. Then answered a voice within him: “Yes, but at thirty, she will be fat, oh, very fat.”
As the Se?ora turned to greet him, the first voice made answer: “Yes, but it will be at least twelve years before she is thirty.”
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1
dominion
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| n.统治，管辖，支配权；领土，版图 | |
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labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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3
laborers
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| n.体力劳动者，工人( laborer的名词复数 )；（熟练工人的）辅助工 | |
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4
laborer
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| n.劳动者，劳工 | |
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5
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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6
affiliate
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| vt.使隶(附)属于；n.附属机构，分公司 | |
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7
paramount
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| a.最重要的，最高权力的 | |
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8
enumerated
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| v.列举，枚举，数( enumerate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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9
prevailing
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| adj.盛行的；占优势的；主要的 | |
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10
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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11
peroration
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| n.（演说等之）结论 | |
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12
clinch
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| v.敲弯，钉牢；确定；扭住对方 [参]clench | |
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13
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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14
unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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15
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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16
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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18
motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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19
blatant
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| adj.厚颜无耻的；显眼的；炫耀的 | |
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grafter
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| 嫁接的人，贪污者，收贿者； 平铲 | |
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longingly
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| adv. 渴望地 热望地 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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pawn
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| n.典当，抵押，小人物，走卒；v.典当，抵押 | |
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joyously
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| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
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gilding
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| n.贴金箔，镀金 | |
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decency
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| n.体面，得体，合宜，正派，庄重 | |
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proprietor
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| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
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29
prodded
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| v.刺，戳( prod的过去式和过去分词 )；刺激；促使；（用手指或尖物）戳 | |
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lining
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| n.衬里，衬料 | |
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proffered
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| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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gaudy
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| adj.华而不实的；俗丽的 | |
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33
gnawed
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| 咬( gnaw的过去式和过去分词 )； （长时间） 折磨某人； （使）苦恼； （长时间）危害某事物 | |
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stew
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| n.炖汤，焖，烦恼；v.炖汤，焖，忧虑 | |
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outskirts
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| n.郊外，郊区 | |
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dint
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| n.由于，靠；凹坑 | |
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persuasion
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| n.劝说；说服；持有某种信仰的宗派 | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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rangers
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| 护林者( ranger的名词复数 )； 突击队员 | |
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adept
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| adj.老练的，精通的 | |
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spat
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| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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42
scampered
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| v.蹦蹦跳跳地跑，惊惶奔跑( scamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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44
warfare
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| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
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45
throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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46
aggregation
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| n.聚合，组合；凝聚 | |
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47
precedent
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| n.先例，前例；惯例；adj.在前的，在先的 | |
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strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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49
wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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50
appraise
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| v.估价，评价，鉴定 | |
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51
prospectors
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| n.勘探者，探矿者( prospector的名词复数 ) | |
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52
thronged
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| v.成群，挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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53
prospective
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| adj.预期的，未来的，前瞻性的 | |
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54
swarmed
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| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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55
plaza
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| n.广场，市场 | |
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disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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ranch
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| n.大牧场，大农场 | |
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58
situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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59
procure
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| vt.获得，取得，促成；vi.拉皮条 | |
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60
hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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61
irrigated
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| [医]冲洗的 | |
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62
adobe
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| n.泥砖，土坯，美国Adobe公司 | |
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63
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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64
justifiable
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| adj.有理由的，无可非议的 | |
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65
defender
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| n.保卫者，拥护者，辩护人 | |
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66
flannel
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| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
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67
subtlety
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| n.微妙，敏锐，精巧；微妙之处，细微的区别 | |
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