Adventure Magazine Cover — page 28: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

784 to shakes. The mules were heavily loaded, but they made it. José’s wife was at the ranch to meet us. She was as sound as a Missouri mule. Don Natividad wanted to roast José for lying, but I stopped him. ‘‘Let him alone,” said I, “‘he is only a poor, poverty-stricken peon.”’ When I paid José off I gave him twenty dollars and he was speechless with gratified surprise. Never in his whole life before had he held so much real money. Twenty dollars here—ten buried in the woods—+thirty whole dollars! It was ‘incredible! He hurried out into the woods and dug up the other ten. He now counted them (behind the corral) by the aidof a num- ber of small stones. This time he was con- vinced. He took on a Morgan-Rockefeller air as he came to announce to us that “im- portant business” carried him at once to Noria. “Now don’t get drunk and blow yourself in, José,” said I. José was indignant at the mere mention of such a thing. He was going to have a look through the stores, etc., etc. ay JAN.13—AsI passed through Noria a this morning I passed also in front of the iron-grated calabozo. A depre- catory voice called to me, “Oh, patron, por vida de su madre!”’ José had gone to town. The vulture- hawk police had seen his money. The policeman hurriedly saw a stool-pigeon, and José was admired, flattered and treated to mescal. Five minutes later a fight was picked with him; he was battered with a police club, arrested and fined—the size of his wad. Thus poor José was treated to a typical dose of Mexican justice—the kind that breeds revolt. Well, I got him out and cussed the judge. Feb. 1—The ore assayed well, so I gave José the fifty dollars and the rifle. This time he didn’t come to Noria, but vanished, leaving his sick wife—who made a “brush marriage” five days later with another, and whiter, man. I have bought Purpee. His fatness has now spread from his belly- middle to both ends. Purpee has “struck ile.”’ Bob and Little Annie are again boarding with Don Natividad. April 2—We sold the mine to-day, to a Tenderfoot. He came very near not buying, for he was afraid to go up into Buen Retiro, Adventure as the Mexican rebels are reported thick up there. We put mint in his, so the steam of courage rose in his glass, and he went, bought and paid. I now bought a half- interest in the Cafia Ranch for $8,000. All this was quick work—as work should be. We are getting along finely, Purpee and I. He can now take off his collar without un- buttoning it. April 4—The Jefe Politico from Noria to-day sent out ten men to guard the outlet of the Quelite Creek and watch for the reb- els. One of these rebels is a crackerjack. He is everywhere and nowhere. He falls on a squad like a bolt, wipes it off the map and then drops out of sight—to repeat this where least expected. The Federals call him “Fl Rayito” or “Little Lightning.”” The com- mander of the ten men, just arrived, is the policeman who beat up José. They went into camp about one-half mile above the house. A pril 5—The ten men are all dead. Last night a rebel sneaked on to their sentry and cut his throat with one wicked slash. The rest was easy—all asleep. At daybreak José’s wife rushed in, in a terrible state of alarm. ‘Oh, patron,” cried she, “ José is up there and they are going to burn a man alive!’ I took a pistol and started. Don Natividad was gibbering with fear, and begged me not to go. I snorted my disgust and started. Well, now, what do you think? El Ray- ito is no more and no less than José Bobo! He had the policeman (still alive) trussed up to a green sapling. ‘“‘Son of a one-eyed lame woman,”’ said José, ‘I will now repay thee thy kindness at Noria!”? The man screamed, begged, and called on God. Presently his clamor died down into a flame-girdled moan. José turned around and saw me. He at once smiled the old ingratiating smile and said: “Ah, patron, I have fixed the quzko (policeman). To-morrow night I get the judge, con el favor de Dios! Ihave 200 men lying hidden in the jungle around Noria. All the roads are watched and picketed, so no one can carry thenews. Stay you here— you are safe. If any one bothers you I will cut his heart out! They all know. My men have found a wonderful old Aztec gold- mine—far in the Sierras. When this war is over I will give it to you.” José is a true Indian. CoMmicbhook CO