HOW LOVE BROKE THE GANG

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXVI, Issue 4, 27 January 1906, Page 8

HOW LOVE BROKE THE GANG

A GIFT FROM A REJECTED SUITOR THAT WAS PRIZED MORE THAN A LOVER’S RING

By

Willard French

a FINE old Mexican mansion stands out sharp against Raven Ridge, where the wild Texan hills roll up out of the desert

and down into tne Rio Granue. Judge Sherman bought it, wich the hundreds of acres pertaining to it, wuen he was driven from New England by a complication of troubles, it lengthened his life a little, but he was coming to tue end.

Until her mother died, Mona his only child was much away al scuoo.. Since then she had been his constant companion. It was rather brave 01 her, too, notwithstanding the second command-

ment, for a lonelier spot there isn t any where. The nearest tiling of social ten

dencies was the fort, lour miles away. Her father was too ill tor guests, and the only people about the place were Mexican servants and farm-hands, except Zetto, a young Spaniard, wno evidently pertained to some better sphere, but lor reasons of his own had hired himself to Judge Sherman as a kind of general manager. He held the position with dignity, and made a better success of it than the Judge before he broke down. He was her only possible companion. ami Mona found him much better than no company at all, riding, shooting, rowing—in every relaxation which Raven Ridge afforded. They were a good deal together. That was all. If he had thought or hoped, he ha.i been too wise to speak. Colonel Morgan, recently assigned to command in the district, had been making the fort his head-quarters, as the best point from which to carry out his orders to quell the border troubles which, under the leadership of the bold outlaw Brisbane, had assumed rather serious proportions. He was a West Pointer, who had risen rapidly, owing to the same qualities he exhibited in this new field. Before he had been at them a month, every member of the border gang hated him and had vowed his death. Just now he had pushed Brisbane and the Hower of his followers well into the wilds of Devil’s Gulch, with every prospect of bagging the whole of them.

Colonel Morgan’s father and Judge Sherman had been bosom friends. Mona’s dreams and castles began with the first vacation, when Ned Morgan came back from West Point in all the glory of a uniform. One often buries those first dreams, but one never forgets them. Mona had not forgotten them. Neither had Colonel Morgan. Several times already he had ridden over from the fort. But all the wonderful newness of some thing never dreamed of came to Mon * in a letter which an Indian brought hei on her birthday. The fact that Nel had remembered it at all was almost as much to her as the letter. Large as it was, the house could not conta’n her happiness. She was sitting on the verandah, where she could have the mighty sympathy of the wild ravines and grond gorges stretching down to the

distant river. Over and over again she read:

“If I can reach the fort in time, I shall ride over to spend your birthday evening with you. I have a pretty littl • diamond ring, just for a birthday, and you must accept that, in :inv eas». But I am coming to te'l you the old. old story. Mona. Don’t say no. if you can help it. It will only mean that I must

wait and work till 1 can ask again wita better hope. 1 know I’m not half worthy of you. Mona, but there was never anyone but you. There never will be. ' Mona was wrapped in golden dreams. She did not hear a step approaching or see a shadow fall across the verandah. Zelto stopped abruptly before her and waited for her to look up. It was a shock. Involuntarily, she started to nei feet, but he caught her hand. His voice was low, but he spoke quickly; his eyes flashed, and there were deep lines on his Spanish face. "\\ hy do you try to avoid me now?’’ he asked. "You need not tell me, for I know. It is only since he came—that blanked Morgan! Curse him! 1 would kill him!” "Zetto!” she cried, wrenching he, nan” from his. "And he’s coming again,” Zetto continued, pointing to the letter. "You 11 not try to avoid him. Curse him! 1 would kill ” “Stop, Zetto!” Mona exclaimed. "You’re a eoward to say that! 1 have never been anything more than friends with you; but if colonel Morgan was not in existence 1 would never be even friends again.” “You love him; so you hate me,” Zetto said slowly. "Why should I not hate him, when 1 love you? Don't speak. Don’t tell me I have no right to love you, for 1 have. A eat ean look at a king. I’ve been thinking of doing sometiling for you to-day —something a little out of the ordinary line of diamond rings ”he glanced scornfully at the letter, as though he had been reading it, upside down and half erumpled in her hand, while they were talking—"sometiling which would at least convince you that my love had some quality of strength. If I offer you a birthday gift, will you accept it?’ “No!” Mona replied indignantly. “No woman would accept a gift from a man who was not at least her friend.”

“I thought not-,” he muttered. “1 knew that you loved him, and that you would spurn my love if I offered it, even in a diamond ring. I haven’t offered it; but I will tell you this: I’m not a labourer. I took this place simply because I loved you and wanted an excuse to be near you. I have tried to win your love. Now I know why I have failed. lam going away. You will never see me again, but you will hear from me just once before this day is done. You have called me a coward and said that you would never be my friend again. It’s a tough good-bye, considering what I’ve worked and hoped for. But you might change your mind. Women do sometimes. If I should send you a b’rthday gift to-night, that you accepted before you accepted his, and thought more of than you expect to think of his, wouldn't that be a sure sign that we were friends again?” “I do not understand you, Zetto. I—” “I want one word. Answer me, yes or no!” he said sternly. “It is a little question of life and death with me. Answer me, yes or no. Would it mean that we are friends?” “If I ever accept a gift from you it will mean that I believe that w T e are friends,” Mona said, trembling; for there was something so fierce and sinister in Zetto’s face that she knew there was some hiddenmeaning in his words—something connected with his threat. He caught her hand and kissed it almost savagely, vaulted the veranda rail, leaped into his saddle and disappeared. Mona still stood looking out over the mountains, -till holding the letter in her hand; but she had forgotten both. Span-

ish irony is not often wasted words. Zetto had not wasted them. He meant something. But all she could understand was that it was something against Colonel Morgan. She could only think of the bitterness with which he had said: “1 would kill him.” She started for the stable, but hal.'-way she stopped. She was not afraid to go. There was not a better rider, a truer shot or a braver girl on the Rio Grande. She was thinking of the result. Her lips smiled, but her anxious eyes did not join them.

"He’d only laugh at me for riding eight miles to tell him that Zetto Had threatened to ’hoot him. He’d tell me the woods were full of bigger things than Zetto, who had all done the same. And Zetto won’t go to the fort. He knows Ned’s coming here, and he’ll try to do it near the house, so that I shall know. If I only knew when he was coming 1 could meet him part way. Perhap he can’t come to-night. I hope he can’t.” She walked slowly back to the house, t..inking how little she expected, when she read the letter, to be hoping that he would not come. The sun was not setting, but the shadows were creeping up out of their hiding places in the eternal twilight of those deep defiles. She went >ip into the tower and ligh.ed the great lamp that could be seen from half-way to the fort. Then she lighted the large lantern on toe veranda, which flooded the lawn with light as far as the dense shrubbery would admit. The house seemed strangely de.-erted. There were no servants about. The Chinese boy who brought her supper and her father’s said they had all gone to the river. She sat with her father till dark.

He was sleeping, and she crept into the library, opening upon t e broad reception hall which was brilliantly lighted and on the light veranda. It was dark in the library. No one could °ee her there, and she sat close to the window upon the veranda. Tne ticking of the dock tortured her, and rhe -topped it. Tne night and the mountains never seemed so full of frightfully suggestive sounds. She was trembling Her hands were like iee. A hundred times she thought she heard the distant beat of horses’ hoofs, then a blur of confu-ed sounds, then, for an instant, silence like death : and she clutched the chair, to hold

herself back from running frantically down the road. When she came into the library she had brought her revolver with her and laid it on a table by the window. A stealthy step sounded in the shrubbery near the veranda. She reached quickly for the revolver, but in the darkness she hit something which made a noise. Without waiting she sprang through the window and crossed the veranda. A man came from toe shrubbery. She could not see his face, under the broad brim of his sombrero, but he was much larger than Zetto. He wore a leather jacket, with dagger and pistol-belt. Under his arm he carried a rifle. Coming slowly forward, he said: "Beggin’ yer pardon Miss Sherman. Thar’s nuthin’ to fear; but I 11 jest step inside with ye a minute, ef ye don’t mind; relatin’ to a little busme s I might explain.” Clinching her fists and biting her lips to keep from fainting. Mona hurried down the veranda to the hall door, fearing that he would insist on going with her into the dark library. Sne knew his errand. He was Zetto’s messenger. His business was to tell her of Zetto’s revenge. A New England fire was burning under the deep Mexican mantel in the great reception hall, as an old-home welcome for Ned. Mona sank helplessly on the settee, just inside the door. The man clanked, slowly and heavily, to a chair by’ a table in the centre of the hall. He threw himself down with the uncouth bravado of actors in a third-rate play, dropping a heavy arm across the table. Would he never speak? Was there nothing for her to do but sit there, trembling? At last he said: “Colonel Morgan is cornin’ here. I’ve brought a half dozen good men with me to settle a little misunderstandin’ I’ve with him, quick and quiet.” Mona started. The trembling vanished. It was not yet too late for her to help. She could only think of her revolver on the library table. The man noticed it. He smiled, in a grim kind of way, and swung his rifle round toward rhe settle. “Set still, young lady.” Morgan’s no fool. When he sees the odds he’ll be a lamb. No racket you kin make or make me make ’ll help him any. Only bearin’

yer dad was so low that a row might fix him, 1 thought t would be courteous like to warn ye thet thar won’t be no noise unless*!! you make it or require it. See? Mona’s brain was so busy that she hardly heard; but at that instant horses’ hoofs sounded, cantering slowly up the drive.

“Thet’s him!” the man muttered. “Now you git out on the top step, to meet him, but don’t you go a step further and don’t you dare to speak a word, or— —He glanced at his rifle. "It s loaded. Lively’s the word.” He was grinning under his sombrero. “1 prefer to meet Colonel Morgan in here,” Mona replied without moving. “Waal, I prefer to keep my eyes on you,” the man said sharply. "They tell me you kin handle irons Al. I ain t takin’ no chances. You git lively, or you’ll stop there peaceful as you please.” He was coming toward her. “Coward!” she said; but she went out on the verandah in front of him. just as Ned. accompanied by a single orderly, swung into the light. He tossed his reins to the orderly and vaulted from the saddle, calling: ■ “Many happy returns!”

But instead of Mona’s, a clear, stern voice from the door called: “Hands up, Colonel! You’re well covered, and drop if you move. When my men have lifted yer irons, ef ve’r quiet ye kin step inside. The gal’s waitin' fur a word o’ congratulation.”

Glancing quickly about him. Colonel Morgan saw, besides the rifle from over Mona’s shoulder, at least four more, nearer, while two held his orderly helpless. Throwing up his hands he called: "AU right. Captain. The joke’s old, but it's good. Help yourself.” When they released him, he ran up the steps as though nothing had happened, took Mona’s cold hand in his and led her back into the hall, where she sank again upon the settle, white and numb only her eyes saw everything and her brain was as alive as her body seemed dead. She dared not move; she could only think. But she did not mean that anv chance should slip her, and it seemed" as though some chance must come. She thought of Zetto, and her finger-nails cut the palms of her hands. Only then she realised that Ned had left the ring there. It made her angry that he should have thought her capable of caring for at while he. was in danger. She could have thrown it on the floor. But- at that -moment a curious thing occurred. The stranger had flung himself again into the ehair beside the table, motioning Colonel Morgan to a chair opposite. Four men stood together in the broad door, their rifles ready for instant use.

In sitting down Ned bent forward and looked under the broad brim of the sombrero, then threw himself into his chair, with a boisterous laugh, exclaiming: “It’s Brisbane himself! By the powers! Now that’s a new joke, old man, and a good one.”

“A joke?” the outlaw muttered. “Why, yes,” Ned replied, still laughing. “Don’t you see? I’ve just left a whole company, out in Devil's Gulch,

watching the entrance to your cave, waiting to nab you; and. presto! I meet you thirty miles away, making a birthday call.” “Morgan, with a company, waits in Devil’s Gulch to capture Brisbane, while 'Brisbane, with only six good men, captures Morgan right under the guns of 'his fort. Yes, It’s a joke. I see it now,” the outlaw said solemnly. “And next I’ll see that diamond ring. Mebbe ’t’ll fit my gal as well as yours. And thet’s another joke.” He slowly stretched his great hand, palm up, across the table. “I haven't got it, Brisbane,” Ned replied deliberately,” and if I had I would npt turn it over to you.” Mona saw an opportunity for which she had been waiting. Before Nell could

finish or Brisbane reply, she said: “Here is the ring, if that is all you want,” and hurrying to them she laid it on the table.

She expected the frown which contracted Ned’s forehead, and she was not sorry to show him that she thought more of him than of the ring. The opportunity, however, for which she had been waiting was an excuse to place herself between Ned and the four rifles in the door. She measured the line carefully, with a marksman’s eye, before she started, and stopped beside the table where she was sure that she covered it. Neither Mona nor the outlaw expected the quick motion with which Colonel Morgan picked up the ring, and smiling in spite of the frown, slipped it into his pocket. The muscles of Brisbane’s big hand tightened, and the hand moved toward his belt. Mona saw it. Her heart stood still, but she only clutched the table, for she dared not move irom between Ned and the other four. But the big hand stopped on the edge of the table. The game was his. There was no haste. The outlaw purposed to play it slowly, for what there was in it. He preferred to see Colonel Morgan yield to him. With eyes fixed on him he muttered:

“I let ye in to say a peaceable goodbye with the gal. But I've no great crop o’ patience handy. You fork over thet ring, an’ git through yer nonsense lively and quiet, or I’ll leave yet right here for the undertaker, see? And that's another joke.” Ned leaned back in his chair, replying slowly: “It would be, Brisbane, if it would only work; but there’s no point to it. When I heard that you had intercepted and read my letter to Miss fiberman, and had laid a trap to catch me here to-night . Don’t you dare to move a finger, old man, or three good bullets will find you quick! You can look over your shoulder at the library door and you’ll see whero they’ll come from. You can look at the front door and see whether your men or mine are on guard. I simply played the same game, and have taken you and your men instead. If you go with me peaceably, you are a prisoner of war. and will be treated as such. Otherwise you will be shot now or at davlight in the morning, as you think best.” With a groan Brisbane’s head fell upon his hands. The soldiers who had entered the library through the window hurried in, and slipping handcuffs on his wrists led him away. Mona fell, fainting in Ned’s arms. VVlieii she recovered she was sitting in the arm-chair by the fire. Ned was beside her. They were alone, “It is all well that ends well. Mona, darling,” he was saying, when she fully comprehended. “Catching Brisbane was the best thing possible. It’s the luck of your birthday-, darling. But where should 1 have been by now, if it hadn’t been for Zetto?” “les. It was he who did it,” Mona said, shuddering. He did it, bless him!” Ned repeated, not understanding the shudder. “And all the' time I’ve been so jealous that I’ve come pretty close to hating him. They told me that he was a gentleman, disguised because he loved you. And he was such a handsome fellow, and so near you, and could do so much for you. I was so afraid he would take advantage of your birthday, just as I wanted to, and that my brave little girl might accept some gift from him first, and think more of it than she thought of mine. I had to write the letter, at least, to let you know that mine was coming. “I never misjudged a man in all my life as I did Zetto. I wonder if I could have been man enough to have done it for him. He said he told you he was coming to warn me of the intercepted letter and the plot, which he discovered when they came to him this noon and told him to have all the servants out of the house and be ready to help them. He said he told you too he was never coming back: but I don't believe he confessed that it was because he must fly for his life. ‘ He is hurrying back to Spain. He’d not be safe an hour anywhere in Mexico, after betraying the border gang. And it was all because he loved you and knew that you loved me. He is a bigger man than I could have been, I’m afraid. But Mona, unworthy as I am, I love you; and you’ll not say no? He said you loved me.” Mona felt the ring slipping upon her finger and she held Ned’s 'hand fast as her answer. But her thoughts were distracted. What her lips said was:

“Zetto was a very noble friend. I want to find him someway and tell him so.” Then her eyes fell on the ring, and she remembered all it meant —among other things that it was the one moment of woman’s life when it is her prerogative to torment. She laid her hand on the soldier’s arm; but looking into the fire she said: “Maybe you don’t want me, Ned, when 1 have told you all.” “All what, dearest? What could you possibly tell me that would make me feel like that?” He was bending tenderly over her. “Why, what I must tell you,” she replied. “That Zetto did make me a birthday gift, just as you feared he would; that I accepted it before I accepted yours, and that I do—oh, Ned, forgive me!—l do think a great deal more of it than I think of yours.” “Mona!” Ned groaned, leaning back against the mantel, whiter than when he faced the rifles. It was more than she meant. She sprang to her feet and, her arms about his neck, she whispered: “How could I help it, darling, when he sent me you?”