Neither Barbara nor her father seemed to enthuse much.To them an American was an American here in Mexico, where every hand was against their race.That at home they might have looked with disgust upon this same man did not alter their attitude here, that no American should take sides against his own people.Barbara said as much to Grayson.
"Why this fellow's one of Pesita's officers," exclaimed Grayson."He don't deserve no sympathy from us nor from no other Americans.Pesita has sworn to kill every American that falls into his hands, and this fellow's with him to help him do it.He's a bad un.""I can't help what he may do," insisted Barbara."He's an American, and I for one would never be a party to his death at the hands of a Mexican, and it will mean death to him to be taken to Cuivaca.""Well, miss," said Grayson, "you won't hev to be responsible--I'll take all the responsibility there is and welcome.I just thought you'd like to know we had him."He was addressing his employer.The latter nodded, and Grayson turned and left the room.Outside he cast a sneering laugh back over his shoulder and swung into his saddle.
In front of the men's quarters he drew rein again and shouted Eddie's name.Shorter came to the door.
"Get your six-shooter an' a rifle, an' come on over to the office.I want to see you a minute."Eddie did as he was bid, and when he entered the little room he saw four Mexicans lolling about smoking cigarettes while Grayson stood before a chair in which sat a man with his arms tied behind his back.Grayson turned to Eddie.
"This party here is the slick un that robbed the bank, and got away on thet there Brazos pony thet miserable bookkeepin'
dude giv him.The sergeant here an' his men are a-goin' to take him to Cuivaca in the mornin'.You stand guard over him 'til midnight, then they'll relieve you.They gotta get a little sleep first, though, an' I gotta get some supper.Don't stand fer no funny business now, Eddie," Grayson admonished him, and was on the point of leaving the office when a thought occurred to him."Say, Shorter," he said, "they ain't no way of gettin' out of the little bedroom in back there except through this room.The windows are too small fer a big man to get through.I'll tell you what, we'll lock him up in there an' then you won't hev to worry none an' neither will we.You can jest spread out them Navajos there and go to sleep right plump ag'in the door, an' there won't nobody hev to relieve you all night.""Sure," said Eddie, "leave it to me--I'll watch the slicker."Satisfied that their prisoner was safe for the night the Villistas and Grayson departed, after seeing him safely locked in the back room.
At the mention by the foreman of his guard's names--Eddie and Shorter--Billy had studied the face of the young American cowpuncher, for the two names had aroused within his memory a tantalizing suggestion that they should be very familiar.Yet he could connect them in no way with anyone he had known in the past and he was quite sure that he never before had set eyes upon this man.
Sitting in the dark with nothing to occupy him Billy let his mind dwell upon the identity of his jailer, until, as may have happened to you, nothing in the whole world seemed equally as important as the solution of the mystery.Even his impending fate faded into nothingness by comparison with the momentous question as to where he had heard the name Eddie Shorter before.
As he sat puzzling his brain over the inconsequential matter something stirred upon the floor close to his feet, and presently he jerked back a booted foot that a rat had commenced to gnaw upon.
"Helluva place to stick a guy," mused Billy, "in wit a bunch o' man-eatin' rats.Hey!" and he turned his face toward the door."You, Eddie! Come here!"Eddie approached the door and listened.
"Wot do you want?" he asked."None o' your funny business, you know.I'm from Shawnee, Kansas, I am, an'
they don't come no slicker from nowhere on earth.You can't fool me."Shawnee, Kansas! Eddie Shorter! The whole puzzle was cleared in Billy's mind in an instant.
"So you're Eddie Shorter of Shawnee, Kansas, are you?"called Billy."Well I know your maw, Eddie, an' ef I had such a maw as you got I wouldn't be down here wastin' my time workin' alongside a lot of Dagos; but that ain't what I started out to say, which was that I want a light in here.The damned rats are tryin' to chaw off me kicks an' when they're done wit them they'll climb up after me an' old man Villa'll be sore as a pup.""You know my maw?" asked Eddie, and there was a wistful note in his voice."Aw shucks! you don't know her--that's jest some o' your funny, slicker business.You wanna git me in there an' then you'll try an' git aroun' me some sort o'
way to let you escape; but I'm too slick for that.""On the level Eddie, I know your maw," persisted Billy."Iben in your maw's house jest a few weeks ago.'Member the horsehair sofa between the windows? 'Member the Bible on the little marble-topped table? Eh? An' Tige? Well, Tige's croaked; but your maw an' your paw ain't an' they want you back, Eddie.I don't care ef you believe me, son, or not; but your maw was mighty good to me, an' you promise me you'll write her an' then go back home as fast as you can.It ain't everybody's got a swell maw like that, an' them as has ought to be good to 'em."Beyond the closed door Eddie's jaw was commencing to tremble.Memory was flooding his heart and his eyes with sweet recollections of an ample breast where he used to pillow his head, of a big capable hand that was wont to smooth his brow and stroke back his red hair.Eddie gulped.
"You ain't joshin' me?" he asked.Billy Byrne caught the tremor in the voice.
"I ain't kiddin' you son," he said."Wotinell do you take me fer--one o' these greasy Dagos? You an' I're Americans--I wouldn't string a home guy down here in this here Godforsaken neck o' the woods."Billy heard the lock turn, and a moment later the door was cautiously opened revealing Eddie safely ensconced behind two six-shooters.
