JIM THE CONQUEROR

Waikato Independent, Volume XXXVII, Issue 3271, 25 February 1937, Page 2

JIM THE CONQUEROR

By PETER B. KYNE

“I think,” said Don Jaime Miguel Higuenes presently, “that I must start now to pick those figs. The birds are raising the devil with the ripe ones. My great-grandfather planted these figs,” he added, with just a touch of pride. “I have been thinking it would be a very great shame if I departed this world leaving none of my line to care for them. . . . Well, now that I shall he tied to this ranch no longer I suppose I must look around . . .” He strolled away under the fig trees . ... To weary, sleepy Ken Hobart there came presently, as from a great distance, the flute-like tones of Don Jaime’s whistling; he trilled a mournful waltz that had been composed five hundred years before, inspired by the exit of the Moors from Granada. “That boy and a gringo flapper would get along together as comfortably as two tom-cats tied tail to tail and thrown over a clothes-line,” thb ranger decided. “Guess I’ll have time for a siesta before Flavio draws my bath. Hum-m-m! Strolling around his old-fashioned garden, picking ripe figs and dreaming of his proud ancestors and his duty to posterity. And within forty-eight hours there’s at, least a fifty per cent chance he’ll be dead! Good lad! He’s one of the last survivors of a fast disappearing race. . . . . Guess I’ll have to arrange to be present at the battle of the waterholes, even though I may shoot myself out of a good job as general manager of Rancho Verde. . . What’s the odds? I’ll let the tail go with the hide. . . . Tom ; got to go." Don Jaime made a new will that night and handed it to Ken Hobart at breakfast the following morning, “Your instructions are all in that envelope, too,” he explained, “in case I should be unfortunate* Enrico Cafaved, my’ riding boss, lias the run of things pretty well. He’s a good man, and a Caraveo has always been riding boss of the Rancho Valle Verde. I shouldn’t want you to make a change, Ken.

“I have some Mexican first cousins; they’re emigres, living in Los Angeles, and I’m leaving them the ranch in trust, with you as trustee and manager. The revolutions have ruined them and I support them now. Socially, I’m proud of them, but the fact' remains that they’re spendthrifts, and if they had their way they’d sell this ranch and the cattle for fifty cents on the dollar in order to start splurging again. And a Mexican grandee fs much too conscientious a splurgcr to continue on the job indefinitely. Consequently I, with my acquired American conservatism, must look after the poor devils.”

“Don Jaime,” Ilohart protested. “I’m your employee now. I’ll wire the governor of Texas my resignation and, without waiting for its acceptance, I’ll ride back in time to be present when Antrim’s sheep come to the guarded water-holes.”

Don Jaime smiled. “As yois will, Ken. While I require no additional proof that I have made no mistake in hiring you, still”—he shrugged and grimaced as only a Latin can —“It is nice to have It. As you know, we of the Higuenes tribe are easy-going people. We do not require the services” of supermen, for we have never hajd them, but we have been accustomed to loyalty. Because I know you are loyal to your job I have engaged you.” “Thank you, Don Jaime.” • They rode away into the southeast together. In a clump of cottonwoods a hundred yards from the sheep camp they parted, Don Jaime waiting while the ranger rode into the camp of the invaders.

A smallish, unprepossessing man, who might have been anywhere from forty-five to sixty years of age, stood under a smoke-discoloured fly over a small barbecue pit upon which a side of mutton was roasting. As the ranger rode up, this man .placed his arms akimbo, and gazed alertly at the stranger. “All set for a quick grab for his gun,” Ken Hobart reasoned. ■ “Wily, old wretch!” Aloud he said, “Good morning, Mr Antrim.”

“Hello, yourself,” Antrim replied with an assumption of heartiness. “What’s your name when lunch is ready?”

Hobart grinned. “I’m Captain Hobart, of the Texas Rangers. I suspected luncheon might be ready about the time I was due to ride by, so I’ve invited myself.”

Copyright

“Y’ou’re welcome, ranger. What's the gossip around your way?” Hobart dsmounted and tied his horse to the breeze. “Nothing much. A little smuggling, a little gun-run-ning, a cattle raid to vary the monotony, a killing. Things are pretcy quiet along the Border. “What brings you up this way?” Antrim was suspicious as a predatory animal. “I figured on giving you some sound advice, Mr Antrim. You’re trespassing on the Higuenes lands and Don Jaime Higuenes doesn’t cheer for that. It looks like a private war to me; and as a ranger I prefer to stop a private war before it starts rather than after it’s started. You’re in the wrong, Mr Antrim, and I advise you to pull out of here and not come back.” “You come to arrest me for trespassing,” Antrim asked. “No, of course not. You’re grazing your sheep on slate lands. I can't arrest you until you drive them on the lands owned by Don Jaime in fee simple—and those lands surround the water-holes whereby Don Jaime controls this range. Even then I’ll not arrest you, because Don Jaime refuses to ask it or swear out a warrant. Says he likes to kill his own rats.” “Called me a rat, did he?” Antrim’s cold, pale-blue eyes were very bleak. “Not at all. That was just my way of expressing the situation. I was speaking in the vernacular. Don Jaime isn’t very far from here, Mr Antrim. He’d like to have one final talk with you. He isn’t armed. Suppose you drop that gun you’re wearing and walk out with me to discuss ibis situation with Don Jaime."

“Reckon I can trust a ranger,” Antrim replied, as Hobart exposed his shield. He hung his gun and belt on the projecting snag of a cottonwood ana followed the ranger to where Don Jaime Higuenes waited.

“Well, Higuenes,” Antrim saluted him gruffly. His words, his tone of voice, were at once an inquiry and a threat.

“I’ve come to warn you not to attempt to water your sheep at any of my water-holes, Antrim.” “And if I do?” “You’ll fight to the death for the privilege.” “Well, I can do that, too.” “Then we understand each other.” “How do I know, you own those water-holes?” “You have my assurance that I do. If you doubt that, look up the records ai the county seat.” “Your surveys are wrong.” “I am not aware, of that. Of course, if they are, you may water your sheep—after you’ve proved your statement. However, your argument is footless. You do not wish to believe me and I wouldn’t believe you under oath. So suppose we have the county surveyor out here to resurvey all the lands I hold in fee simple- If he proves the old surveys to be erroneous, I’ll pay his bill. If he proves them correct, you pay his bill, move out with your sheep and never come back.”

“I’m not taking orders from any greaser.”

Don Jaime’s white teeth flashed in a smile of vast amusement. “No intelligent man takes a civet cat in his hands, Antrim. I have warned you. ii the presence of Captain Hobart, not t) trespass on the lands I hold in fee simple.” Without a word Antrim turned and walked back to his camp. / ‘‘lt’s war," said Don Jaime Miguel Kiguenes. “The man must be a trifle insane. Don Jaime.” “Not at all. He’s running a bluff because he thinks I’m weak. He is willing to be arrested for trespass; provided his sheep may drink. He will bail himself out of gaol—all his men, too —and trespass again and again. The season is a dry one and the feed on his own range is depleted. He must,get through the summer 'some way and hold his‘’’flock mlact .. . Well, I’ll ride back home and organise my defence.” “You’ll do nothing of the sort, Don Jaime. I shall. As assistant general manager it is my duty to command.

Besides,’ I know how. Your life is much too precious to risk it in a brush with these sheepmen. Arrests and trials will follow this fight, and if you are not alive to protect your men, who, then, will protect us? Who will bail us out of gaol?”

Don Jaime smiled his lazy smile. It was easy to see he was very fondfw the ranger. “There is sound reason in your argument;”' he; admitted; ■ Hobart went on. “Permit me to return to the hacienda and organise your forces, Jaime. Meanwhile, you ride on ;.o Los Algodones and file my telegraphic resignation to the governor.* Here it is. I wrote it out last night, jit requests immediate acceptance by wire. The governor is a friend of rfnne and will do this. Wait Meanwhile, make your arrangements to provide bail for twelve of your men. hat men do you advise for this expedition?”

Don Jaime named them promptly, and Hobart realised that the force he was to defend the water-holes with was equally divided between Mexicans and Americans.

(To be continued)'