Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 44, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 20 February 1915 — Page 2

Hie Land of Broken Promises

A Stirring Story of the Mexican ft _| A Inf. wemuommm

SYNOPSIS. Bud Hooker mud Phil De lancer mr* tWMd. owing to a revolution In Mexico, to give up their mining claim and return to the United State* In the border town of Gadsden Bud meet* Henry Kruger, a wealthy miner, who makes him a proposition to return to Mexico to acquire t*«e to a very rich mine which Kruger had blown up when he found he had been cheated out of the title by one Aragon. Tbs Mexican had spent a large sum In an unsuccessful attempt to relocate the vein and then had allowed the land to revert for taxes. Hooker and De Lancey ■tart for the mine. CHAPTER V. The Journey to Fortuna la a scant fifty miles by measure, but within these eight kilometers there is a lapse of centuries in standards. As Bud and De LaUcey rode out of battle-scarred Agua Negra they traveled a good road, well worn by the Mexican wood-wag-ons that hauled in mesquit from the hills. Then, as they left the town and the wood roads scattered, the highway changed by degrees to a broad trail, dug deep by the feet of pack-animals and marked but lightly with wheele. It followed along the railroad, cutting over hills and down through gulches, and by evening they were In the heart of Old Mexico. ' Here were men in sandals and women barefoot; chickens tied up by the lees outside of brush jacales; longnosed bogs, grunting fiercely as they skirmished for food; and half-naked children, staring like startled rabbits at the strangers. . The smell of garlic and fresh-roast-ing coffee was in the air as they drew into town for the night, and their room waa an adobe chamber with tile floor and iron bars across the windows Riding south the next day they met vaqueros, mounted on wiry mustangs, who saluted them gravely, taking no shame for their primitive wooden saddle-trees and pommels as broad as soup-plates As they left the broad plain and clambered up over the back of a mountain they passed Indian houses, brushbutlt and thatched with long, coarse grasses, and by the Area the women ground corn on stone metatea as their an pastors had done before the fall. For In Mexico there are two peoples, tike Spaniards and the natives, and the Indians still remember the days when they were tree. It was through such a land that Phil and Hooker rode on their gallant* ponies, leading a pack-animal well loaded with sup plies from the north, sad as the people gased from their miserable hovels and saw their outfit they wondered at their wealth. But if they were moved to envy, the bulk of a heavy pistol, showing through the swell of each coat, discouraged them from going farther; and the cold, searching look of the tall cowboy as ha ambled past stayed in their memory long after the pleasant "Adios!” of De Lancey had been forgotten. Americans were scarce in those days, and what few came by were riding to the north. How bold, then, must this big man be who rode in front—and certainly he had some great reward before him to risk such a horse the revoltosos! So reasoned the simple-minded natives of the mountains. gating in admiration at Copper Bottom, and tor that look in their eyes Bud returned hie forbidding stare. There Is something about a good horse that fascinates the average Mexican—perhaps because they breed the finest themselves and are in a position to Judge —but Hooker had developed a romantic attachment tor his trim little oheetnut mount and he resented their wideeyed gapings as a lover resents fisiviss at his lady. This, and a frontier education, rendered him short-spoken and gruff with the palsanos and it was left to the cavalier De Lancey to do the courtesies of the road. As the second dsy wore on they dipped down into s rocky canyon, with huge cliffs of red and yellow sandstone glowing In the slanting sun. and soon they broke out into a narrow valley, well wooded with sycamores and meeqnita and giant hackberry trees. The shrill toots of a dummy engine eaaee suddenly fromdown below and a mantle of black smoke rose majestically against the sky —then, at a turn of the trail, they topped the last hill and Fortuna lay before them. In that one moment they were set back again fifty miles—clear back si roes the line — for Fortuna was dmdili ■ n from the power-house on the creek bank to the mammoth concentrator os the hllL AO the bandings were. of atone, square and uniform. First a central plana, flanked with office* and warehouses; then behind them barracks and lodging houses and trim cottages in orderly rows; and over across the feanyum loomed the huge hulk of the mill And the concentrator with its aerial tramway and endless row of gliding oiflv on the lower hills, where the Bopped up and only there did • and assert Itsn*t look very

(Coßnfcftt. rn* kr tank a. Itaw)

much like Mexico —or a revolution, either!” "No, it don’t,” Admitted Bud; "everything running full blast, too. Look at that ore train coming around the hill!” “Gee, what a burg!” raved Phil; "say, there’s some class to this—what? If f mistake not, we’ll be able to find a few congenial spirits here to help us spend our money. Talk about a company town! I’ll bet you their barroom is full of Americans. There’s the corral down below —let’s ride by and leave our horses and see what’s the price of drinks. They can’t feeze me, whatever it is—we doubled our money at the line.” Financially considered, they had dope just that! —for, for every American dollar In their pockets they could get two that were JUBt as good, except for the picture on the side. This In itself was a great inducement for a ready spender and. finding good coin pany at the Fortuna hotel bar, Phil bought five dollars’ worth of drinks, threw down a flve-dollar bill, and> got back five dollars—Mex. The proprietor, a large and Jovial boniface, pulled off bis fiscal miracle with the greatest good humor and then, having invited them to partake of a very exquisite mixture of his own invention, propped himself upon his elbows across the bar and Inquired with an ingenuous smile: "Weil, which way are you boys traveling, if I may ask?’’* "Oh, down below a ways.” answered De Lancey, who always constituted himself the board of strategy. "Just rambling around a little —how’s the country around here now?” ”Oh, quiet, quiet!” assured their host “These Mexicans don’t like the cold weather much —they .would freeze you know, If it waa not for that zarape which they wind about them so!’’ ' He made a motion as of a native

“Which Way Are You Boys Traveling?"

wrapping his entire wardrobe about his neck and smiled, and De Lancey knew that he was no Mexican. And yet that soft "which away” of his betrayed a Spanish tongue. “Ah, excuse me,” he said, taking quick advantage of his guess, “but from the way you pronounce that word ‘zarape’ 1 take it that yon speak Spanish.” "No one better,” replied the host, smiling pleasantly at being taken at his true worth, “since I was born in the city of Burgos, where they speak the true Castilian. It is a different language, believe me, from this bastard Mexican tongue. And do you speak Spanish also?” he inquired, failing back into the staccato of Castile. * “No indeed!” protested De Lancey in a very creditable, imitation; “nothing bat a little Mexican, to get along with the natives. My friend and I are mining men. passing through the country, and we speak the best we can. How is this district here for work along our line?” V “None better!” cried the Spaniard, ■hairing Ms finger emphatically. “It is of tbe best, and, believe me, njy friend, we Bbould be glad to have you stop with us. The country down below is a little dangerous—not now, perhaps, but later, when the warm weather cornea on. “But in Fortuna —no! Here we are on the railroad; the camp is controlled by Americans; and because so many have left tbe country the Mexicans will sell their prospects cheap.

“Then xgxin. if you develop a mine near by, it will be very easy to sell it —and if you wish to work it, that is easy, too. lam only the proprietor of tbe betel, but If you can use my poor services in any way I shall be very happy to please you. A room? One of the best! And if you stay a week or more i will give you the lowest rate.” .. r.- 3 . They passed up tbe. winding stairs and down s long corridor,-it the end of which the proprietor showed them

By DANE COOLIDGE

AmtKmr ms ”TUm Fifktinm FmoT* V * 9 Hidden "Thm TtMimmm." Kte. ninstration* by Dob XL*via

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER, IND.

into a room, throwing open toe outer doors and shatters to let them see the view from the window. "Here is n little balcony,'’ be said, stepping outside, "where you can sit and look down on the plaza. We have the band and music when the weather is flue, and you can watch the pretty girls from here. But you have been in Mexico—you know all that!” And be gave Phil a roguish dig. "Blen, my frien’, I am glad to meet you— ’’ He held out his hand In welcome and De Lancey gave his in return. "My name,” he continued, "la Juan de Dios Brachamonte- y Escalon; but with these Americans that does not go, as you say, so in general they call me Don Juan. “There Is something about that name —I do not know —that makes the college boys laugh. Perhaps it is that poet, Byron, who wrote so scandalously about ue Spaniards, but certainly he knew nothing of our language, for he rhymes Don Juan with ‘new one’ and ‘true one!’ Still, I read part of that poem and it is, in places, very interesting—yes, very interesting—but ’Don Joo-an!’ Hah!” He threw up his hand in despair and De Lancey broke into a Jollying laugh. “Well, Don Juan," he cried, “I’m glad to meet you. My name is Philip De Lancey and my partner here is Mr. Hooker. Shake handß with him, Don Juan de Dios! But certainly a man so devoutly named could never descend to reading much of Don Joo-an!” “Ah, no,” protested Don Juan, rolling hiß dark eyes and smiling rakishly, “not moch —only the most in-tereeting passages! ” He saluted and disappeared in a roar of laughter, and De Lancey turned triumphantly on his companion, a selfsatisfied smile upon his lips. “Aha!” he said; “you see? That’s what five dollars’ worth of booze will do in opening up the way. Here’s our old friend Don Juan willing, nay, anxious, to help us all he can —he sees I’m a live wire and wants to keep me around. Pretty soon we’ll get him feeling good and he’ll tell us all be knows. Don’t yob never try to make me sign the pledge again, brother—a few shots just gets my intellect to working right and I’m crafty as a fox.

“Did you notice that coup I made —asking him if he was a Spaniard? There’s nothing in the world makes a Spaniard so mad as to take him for a Mexican—-on the other hand, nothing makes him your friend for life like recognizing him for a blue-blooded Castilian. Now maybe our old frienS Don Juan has got a few drops of Moorish blood in his veins—to put it politely, but —’’ he raised his tenor voice and improvised—

“Jest because my hair is curly Dat’s no reason to call me ‘shine!’ ” "No,” agreed Bud, feeling cautiously of the walls, "and jest because you’re happy is no reason for singing so loud, neither. These here partitions are made of inch boards, covered with paper—do you get that? Well, then, considering who’s probably listening, it strikes me that Mr. Brachamonte is the real thing in Spanish gentleman; and I’ve heard that all genuwine Spaniards have their hair curly, jest like a—huh?” But De Lancey, made suddenly aware of his indiscretion, was making all kinds of exaggerated signs for silence, and Bud stopped with a slow, good-natured smile. “S-s-st!” hissed De Lancey, touching his finger to his lips; "don’t say it—somebody might hear you!” - r “All right,” agreed Bud; “and don’t you say it, either. I hate to knock, Phil,’’ he added, “hut sometimes I think the old man was right when he said you talk too much.” “Psst!” chided De Lancey, shaking his finger like a Mexican. Tiptoeing softly over to pud. he whispered in his ear: "S-s-st, I can hear the feller in the next room —shaving himself!" Laughing hearily at this joke, they went down stairs for supper.

CHAPTER VI. If the Eagle Tail mine had been located in Arizona —or even farther down in Old Mexico —the method of jumping the claim would have been delightfully simple. The title had lapsed, and the land had reverted to the government—all it needed in Arizona was a new set of monuments, a location notice at the discovery shaft, a pick and shovel thrown into the hole, and a few legal formalities. But in Mexico It is different. Not that the legal formalities are lacking far from it —but the whole theory cf mines and mining is different: In Mexico * mining title Is, in a way. a lease, a concession from the general government giving the concession na lre the right to work a certain piece of ground and to hold it as long as he pays a mining tax of three dollars an acre pear year.

But no final papers or patents are ever Issued, the possession of the surface of the ground does not go with the right to mine benath it, and in certain parts of Mexico no foreigner can hold title to either mines or land. A prohibited or frontier zone, eighty kilometers in width, lies along the international boundary line, and in that neutral zone no foreigner can denounce a miptng claim and no foreign corporation can acquire a title to one. Tbe Eagle Tail was juat inside the zone.

But—there is always a “but” when you go to a good lawyer—while tor purposes of war and national safety foreigners are not allowed to hold land along the line, they are at perfect liberty to hold stock in Mexican corporations owning property within the prohibited none; and—l*. where the graft comes in—they may svsn hold title in their own name If they first j

obtain express permission front the chief executive of the republic. Not haring any drag with the chief executive, and not caring to rtak their title to the whims of succeeding administrations, Hooker and De Lancey. upon the advice of g mining lawyer in Gadsden, had organised themselves into the Eagle Tail Mining company, under the laws of the republic of Mexico. with headquarters at Agua Negra. It was their plan to get some Mexican to locate the mine for them and then, for a consideration, transfer it to the company. The one weak spot in this scheme was the Mexican. By trusting Aragon, Honry Kruger had not only lost title to his mine, but he had been outlawed from the republic. And now he had

Feeling Cautiously of the Walls.

bestowed upon Hooker and De Lancey the task of finding an honest Mexican, and keeping him honest until he made the transfer. While the papers were being made out there might be a great many temptations placed before that Mexican—either to keep the property for himself or to hold out for a bigger reward than had been specified. After his experience with the aristocratic Don Cipriano Aragon y Tres Palacio6, Kruger was in favor of taking a chance on the lower classes. He had therefore recommended to them one Cruz Mendez, a wood vender whom he had known and befriended, as the man to play the part. Cruz Mendez, according to Kruger, was hard-working, sober and honest — for- a Mexican. He was also simpleminded and easy to handle, and was the particular man who had sent word that the Eagle Tail had at last been abandoned. And also he was easy to pick out, being a little, man and going by the name of "El Tuerto.” So, in pursuance of their policy of playing a waiting game, Hooker and De Lancy hung around the hotel' for several days, listening to the gossip of Don Juan de Dios and watching for one-eyed men with prospects to sell. In Sonora he is a poor and unimaginative man indeed who has not at least one lost mine or "prospecto” to sell; and prosperous-looking strangers, riding through the country, are often beckoned aside by half-naked paisanos eager to show them the gold mines of the Spanish padres for a hundred dollars Mex. It was only a matter, of time, they thought, until Cruz Mendez would hunt them up and try to sell them the Eaglfe Tail; and it was their, intention reluctantly to close the bargain with him, for a specified sum, and then stake him to the denouncement fees and gain possession of the mine. As this was a commonplace in the district —no Mexican having capital enough to work a claim and no American having the right to locate one—lt was a very natural and Inconspicuous way of jumping Senor Aragon y Tree Palacios’., abandoned claim. If they discovered the lead immediately afterward it would pass for a case of fool’s luck, or at least so they hoped, and, riding out a little each day and sitting on the hotel porch with Don Juan the rest of the time, they waited until patience seemed no longer a virtue. “Don Juan," said De Lancey, taking up the probe at last. "I had a Mexican working .for me when we were over in the Sierras —one of your real, oldtime workers that had never been spoiled by an education —and he waa always talking about ‘La Fortuna.' I guess this was the place he meant, but it doesn’t look like It—according to him It waa a Mexican town. Maybe he's around here now—his name was Mendez.”

"Jose Marla Mendes?” inquired Don Juan, who was a living directory of the place. “Ricardo? Pancho? Crus?” “Crus!” cried De Lancer; "that was it!” “He lives down the river a couple of miles,” said Don Juan; “down at Old Fortune.” - > ••Old Fortuna!” repeated Phil. “I didn’t know there was such a place.” "Why, my gracious!” exclaimed Dda Juan de Dios, scandalised by such ignorance. “Do you mean to say you have been here three days and never heard about Fortuna Vleja? Why, this isn’t Fortuna! This is an American mining camp—the old town is down below. “That’s where this man Aragon, the big Mexican of the country, has his ranch and store. Spanish? Him? No.' Indeed —mi tad! He is half Spanish and half Yaqni Indian, but his wife is a pure Spaniardr-om# oTtha few in the country. Her father wsa pool Madrid and she is a ViUanaeva-4 very bad*

tlful woman to her day. with golden h>tr and the presence of a queen! -No. not Irish! My goodness, you Americans think that everybody with red hair Is Irish! Whv, the most beautiful women in Madrid have chestnut hair as soft as the fur of a dormouse. It Is the old Castilian hair, and they are proud of It. The Sonora Aragon married beneath her station —It was in the City of Mexico, and she did not know that be was an Indian—-but she is a very nice lady for all that and never omits to bow to me when she comes up to take the train. I remember one time—” < “Does Cruz Mendez work for him?” Interjected De Lancey desperately. “No, indeed!” answered Don Juan patiently; “he packs In wood from the hills—but as I was saying—” and from that he went on to tell of the unfailing courtesy of the Senora Aragon to a gentleman whom, whatever his present station might be, she recognized as a member of one of the oldest families In Castile. De Lancey did not press his inquiries any further, but the next morning, instead of riding back into the hills, he and • Bnd turned their faces down the canyon to seek out the elusive Mendez. They' had, ft course, been acting a part for Don Jtian, since Kruger had described Old Fortuna and the Senor Aragon with great minuteness. And now, in the guise of innocent strangers, they rode on down the river, past the concentrator with Its multiple tanks, its gliding tramway and mountains of tailings, through the village of Indian houses stuck like dugouts against the barren hill —then along a river bed that oozed with slickings sntil they came in sight of the town. La Fortuna was an old town, yet not as old as its name, since two Fortunas before it had been washed away by cloudbursts and replaced by newer dwellings. The settlement itself was some four hundred years old, dating back to the days of the Spanish conquistadores, when it yielded up many muleloads of gold. The present town was built a little 'up from the river in the lee of a great ridge of rocks thrust down from the hill and well calculated to turn aside a glut of waters. It was u comfortable huddle of whitewashed adobe buildings set on both sides of a narrow and irregular road —the great trail that led down to the hot country and was worn d'eep by the pack-trains of centuries. On the lower side was the ample store and cantina of Don Cipriano. where the thirsty arrieros could get a drink and buy a panoche of sugar without getting down from their mounts. Behind the store were the pole corrals and adobe warehouses and the quarters of the peons, and across the road was the mescal still, where, in huge copper retort and worm, the fiery liquor was distilled from the sugar-laden heads of Yuccas. This was the town, but the most important building—set back in the shade of mighty cottonwoods and pleasantly aloof from the road—was the residence of Senor Aragon. It was this, in fact, which held the undivided attention of De Lancey as they rode quietly through the village, for he had become accustomed from a long experience in the tropics to look tor something elusive, graceful and feminine in houses Bet back in a garden. Nothing stirred, however, and having good reason to avoid Don Cipriano. they Jogged steadily on their way. •‘Some house!” observed Phil, with a last hopeful look over his shoulder, “Uh,” assented Bud, as they cams to a fork In the road. “Say,” he continued, "let’s turn off on this trail. Lot of burro tracks going out —expect it’s our friend. Mr. Mendex.”

“All right,” said De Lancey absently ; “wonder where old Aragon keeps that bee-utiful daughter of blithe one Don Joo-an was telling about Have to stop on the way back and sample the old man’s mescal.” “Nothing doing!” countered Hooker Instantly. "Now you beard what I told you—there’s two things you leave alone for sixty days —boose end women. After we cinch our title you can get as gay as you please.” "00-ee!” piped Phil, “hear the boy talk!” But he said no more of wine and women, for he knew how they do complicate life. They rode to the east now, following the long, flat footprints of the bur ros, and by all the landmarks Bud saw that they were heading straight for the old Eagle Tail mine. At Old Fortuna the river turns west and at the same time four canyons came to from the east and Bouth. Of these they had token the first to the north and it was leading them past all the old workings that Kroger had spoker about In fact they were almost st the mine when Hooker swung down suddenly from his horse and motionud Phil to follow. "There’s some burros coming.” be ffcid, glancing back significantly; and when the pack-train came by. each animal piled high with broken wood, the two Americans were busily topping sway st a section of country rock. A man and s boy followed behind the animals, gasing with wonder at the strangers, and as Phil bad* them s pleasant “Buenos dies!” they c&me to s halt and stored st their Industry in silence. In the Interval Phil was pleaaed to note that the old man hgd only one eye. (TO BE CONTINUED-)'

Carlyle and Ceremony.

Thomas Carlyle and his wife were so wedding-trightenod that It Is sad to think of it. Replying to a letter of his describing his fantastic terrors, she wrote; "For heaven’s sake get into a more benignant humor, or the incident will nut only wear n very original aspect. M hkewteu ,» NO MCI 6 go through utifth tt.”

THE BAST

By OLIVE BARTON.

(Copyright, 1914. by the McClure New»pa-. . per Syndicate.) The great singes was spending her short vacation in an unusual way. It might be said also that it had been none of her own choosing. What did she know of baby food, or mending holes in Johnnie’s stockingß as big as buckwheat cakes? How did she know how many days Flossie should wear the same petticoat? The whole three were in bed now, and the great singer relaxed luxuriously. She kneW no one in the town, so there was little danger of callers. -7 — Her thoughts were as busy as the fingers of the little maid of all work, now doing dishes audibly in the kitchen. She was thinking how odd it was for her to be there at aIL A telegram had been responsible'. Sister Jane and her husband William had been called away by trouble la William’s family. There had been no one else to ask to look after the children. She had never even seen th« baby! Steps suddenly sounded on the little front porch like so many bangs on a bass drum. Tillie, out in the kitchen, heard and was at the door before her temporary mistress could stop her. “Is this where Miss Farrell is staying?” asked a man’s voice. “Joe!” exclaimed Miss Farrell impatiently. “Will he never learn that there isn’t a bit of use in chasing after me, wherever I go?” Joe stamped off the snow noisily and came inßide. He came in big, glowing and clumsy. The littie room seemed full before he got farther than the doorway. Peggy; in her chair before the fire, half turned —just enough for him to see the top-loftical expression. “Peggy!” he exclaimed delightedly, coming forward. , “Good evening, Joe,” evenly. “You chose a nice night to come so far. Won’t you sit down?” Joe sat down on the other side of the fireplace. “You look awfully sweet, Peggy. Aren’t you glad to see me?” “No!” deliberately. “I —I wouldn't have come--only I thought of something after —after we’d been talking the other night” She didn’t answer. “You see,” shifting uneasily, “if you would marry me, you could go ahead with your Singing just the same as ever. You could sing just as well as Margaret Farrell Sturtevant, as you can as Margaret Farrell. Now, couldn’t you? That wouldn’t be interfering with your career, would it? and, Peggy, you used to care a little for me!” She watched the fire a minute, relenting. “It's hard to be cross witji you, Joe. You just won’t let people, will you? I'm going to be extra nice now and explain, ~ . “You see, Joe, your plan won’t work for a hundred reasons. You love a home. You’re a regular home man If there ever was one. 1 can’t make a home. It isn’t in me. I hate everything about a house. I love my music better than anything on earth, and I can’t give it. Jip,”

What she really meant was that the Intoxication of public homage was a sensation she would not care to renounce. “All right, my girl, you’re the doctor!” Joe got up and looked at his watch. “I didn't suppose it was much use, but 1 thought I’d make one more try. I won’t bother you again, ever. Good-night, Peggy, I’ve just time for my train.” He was gone! Peggy turned out the light and sat watching the fire. “I guess I’ll get the baby her bottle and go to bed,” she yawned. A week passed. Peggy was getting expert on mending kneeless stockings, sorting clothes and bathing babies. It never seemed to be a bother any more. Then one night the baby got sick, very sick. The doctor and trained nurse hastily summoned took it philosophically, saying there was an equal chance of life and death. But Peggy, a poor, white, stricken thing, never leaving the side of the little crib, thought the world was ending. Morning brought a change for the better. The baby would live! Peggy slipped silently away to her room and sat thinking in the cold, wintry dawn. Mr. Joseph Sturtevant was just settling himself for a nice winter’s morning nap. The telephone rang. He Wan awake In an instant “Is that you, Joe? This is. Peggy! I have changed my mind. And that’s all I’m going to tell you until you come out and hear for yourself!”

Wasn’t Only One With Religion.

“Yassah!” triumphantly said old Brother Cuddyhump. “De revival was a glorious success! ’Twus a high day in Zion and de hozanners' o’ de redeemed was ringin’, loud and cl’ar, and dar wasn’t no trouble a-toll twell a newcome brudder —smaht scoun’el dat moved over yuh sum Tumlinville dess recent —’gunter shont tb’oo u meggyphone dat de Lawd and done saved, him sum his sins. “ Dat's all right, moh brndder, hollered Pahsoa Bags ter, Trot ye’ll hatter ’spence wid dat haws! Yo’ isn’t de on’y pusson yuh dat ha beau purloined sum deir sins, and yo* wants to give '"■Hr fltf •... Si i S-S /- ' ■ .. " -.iSEj - * ■ . .