Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 61, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 13 March 1915 — The Land of Broken Promises [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Land of Broken Promises

A Stirring Story of the Mexican Revolution

By DANE COOLIDGE

AatAaref "Hidden Water*” "Tto T«xicm."£tc. Illustration* by Don J. Lavin

(Cojnrrizbt. 19K by Frank A. Mtmwy)

V SYNOPSISBud Hooker and Phil De Lancey are forced, owing to a revolution in Mexico, Bo give up their mining claim and return to the United Staten. In the border town >f Gadsden Bud meets Henry Kruger, a wealthy miner, who makes him a proposition to return to Mexico to acquire title to a very rich mine which Kruger had blown up when he found he had been cheated out of the title by one Aragon. The Mexican subsequently spent a large gum In an unsuccessful attempt to relocate the vein and then allowed the land to revert for taxes. Hooked and De Lancey arrive at Fortuna near where the mine, known as the Eagle Tall, is located. They engage the services of Crus Mendes, who has been friendly to Kruger, to acquire the title for- them, and get a permit to do preliminary work. Aragon protests ana accuses them of Jumping his claim. Bud discovers that matrimonial entanglements prevent Mendes from perfecting a valid title. Phil, who has been paying attention to Aragon’s daughter. Gracia, decides to turn Mexican and get the title in his own name. Bud objects to Phil s attentions to Gracia Aragon falls in his attempt to drive them off the claim. Rebels are reported In the vicinity. I CHAPTER~XI—-Continued. ■ "It is the desire of the Yaquie," he had said, when rebuked for serving under the hated flag of Mexico, "to kill Mexicans. And," he added grimly, “the federate at this time seem best able to give us guns for that purpose.” But it had been a year now since Bule had passed his word and, though they had battled valiantly, their land had not been given back to them. The wild Yaquls, the irreconcilables who never came down from the hills, had gone on the warpath again, but Bule and his men still served. Only in two things did they disobey their officers —they would not stack their arms, and they would not retreat while there were still more Mexicans to be killed. Otherwise they were very good soldiers. But now, after the long campaign in Chihuahua and a winter of idleness at i A gin Negra, they were marching south toward their native land and. In spite of the stern glances of their leaders, they burst forth in weird Yaqul songs which, if their words had been known, might easily have caused their Mexican officers some slight uneasiness.

It was, in fact, only a question of days, months, or years until the entire Yaqul contingent would desert, taking their arms and ammunition with them. "Gee, what a bunch of men!” exclaimed Bud, as he stood off and admired their stark forms. “There's some genuine fighters for iyou,” ho observed to Phil; and a giant Yaqul, standing near, returned his praise with a smile. "W*y, hello there. Amigo!” hailed Bud, jerking his head in a friendly salute. “That's a feller I was making signs to up in Agua Negra,” he explained. “Dogged if I ain’t stuck on. these Yaquis—they’re all meh, believe me!” "Good workers, all right,” conceded De Laacey, "but I’d hate to have ’em get after me with* those guns. They say they've killed a lot of Americans, one time and another.” "Weil, if they did it was for being caught in bad company,” said Hooker. "I’d take a chance with 'em any time —but if you go into their country 'with a Mexican escort they’ll kill you on general principles. Say,” he cried Impulsively, "I’m going over to talk with Amigo!" With a broad grin on his honest face he advanced toward the giant Yaqul and shook hands ceremoniously. “Where you go!” he inquired in Spanish, at the same time rolling a cigarette and asking by a sign for a match.

“Moctezuma,” answered the Indian gravely. Then, as Bud offered him the makings, he, too, rolled a cigarette and they smoked for a minute In silenoe. . XiWS “You live here?" inquired the Yaqui at last “Come here,” corrected Bud. “I have mine—ten miles —over there.” He pointed with the flat of his hand, Indian fashion, and Amigo nodded un'derstandingly. / 'V - He was a fine figure of a man, standing six feet or better In his well-cut sandals and handling his heavy Mauser as a child would swing a stick. Across his broad chest he wore a full cartridge belt and around his waist he had two more, filled to the last hole with cartridges and-loaded clips. At his feet lay his blanket bound Into a tight roll, and a canteen and coffee cup completed his outfit which, so far as impedimenta were concerned, was simplicity itself. But instead of the cheap linen uniform of the federate he was dressed . in good American clothes —a striped 'shirt overalls, and a sombrero banded with a bright ribbon —and in place of the beaten, hunted look of those poor conscripts he had the steady gaze of a free man. They stood and smoked for a few □foments, talking briefly, and then, as -the Xaanis closed up their ranks and marched off to make camp for the night. Bud presented his strange friend with the sack of tobacco and went back to join his pardner. That evening the plaza waa filled with the wildest rumors, and another rtrstfi arrived during the night, but jtltawgh It sM Bdr and Phil remained ! unimpressed. In the morning the sol«u.

leaving a great silence where all had . been bugle-calls and excitement, and then the first fugitive came in from down below. He was an old Mexican, With trembling beard and staring eyes, and he told a tele of outrage that made their blood run cold. The red-flaggers had come to his house at night; they had killed his wife and son, left him upon the ground for dead, and carried off his daughter, a prisoner. But later, when the comlsario questioned him sharply, It developed that he lived not far away, had no daughter to lose, and was, in fact, only a crazed old man who told for truth that which he feared would happen. Notwithstanding the denouement, his story stirred the Mexican population to the depths, and when Bud and Phil tried to hire men to push the work on the mine,' they realized that their troubdes had begun. Not only was it Impossible to engage laborers at any price, but on the following day Cruz Mendez, with his wife and children and all his earthly possessions on his burros, came hurrying in from the camp and told them he could serve them no more. "It is my woman!” he explained; "my Marla! Ah, if those revoltosos should see Maria they would steal her before my eyes!” So he was given his pay and the fifty dollars he had earned and, after the customary "Muchas graciaa,” and with the faithful Maria by his side, he went hurrying off to the store. And now in crowded vehicles, with armed men riding in front and behind, the refugees from Moctezuma and the hot country began to pour into town, adding by their very haste to the panic of all who saw them. They were the rich property owners who, having been subjected' to forced contribution before, were now fleeing at the first rumor of danger, bringing their families with them to escape any being held for ransom. In half a day the big hotel presided over by Don Juan de Dios Brachamonte was swarming with staringeyed country mothers and sternly subdued families of children; and finally, to add eclat to the occasion.and compensate for the general confusion, Don Cipriano Aragon y Tres Palacios came driving up to the door with his wife and the smiling Gracia, If she had been In any fear of capture by bold marauders, Gracia Aragon did not show. It now, as she sprang lightly from the carriage and waited upon her lady mother. Perhaps, after a year or more of rumors and alarms, she had come to look upon impending revolutionary conflicts as convenient excuses for a trip to town, a long stop at the hotel, and even a dash to gay Gadsden in case the rebels pressed close. However that may be, while Don Juan exerted himself to procure them a good room she endured the gaze of

the American guests with becoming placidity and, as that took some time, she even ventured to look the Americans over and make some comments to her mother. And then—or so it seemed to Bud — the mother glanced * up quickly and fixed her eyes upon him. After that he was in leps of a hurry to return to the mine, and Phil said they would stay inside for a week. But as for Don Cipriano, when he came across them in the crowded lobby he glared past them with malignant insolence and abruptly turned his back. - At La Fortuna he was the lord and master, with power to forbid them the place; but nowonce more the fortunes of war had turned against him, and he was forced to tolerate their presence. The band played in the plaza that evening, - it being Thursday of the week, and as the cornet led with “La Paloma,” and the bass viol and guitars beat the measure, all feet seemed to turn in that direction, and the fear ot the raiders was stilled. X Around and around the band stand and in and cut beneath the trees the pleasure loving maidens from down

below walked decorously with their mothers; and the little band of Fortuna Americans, to whom life for some months had been a trifle burdensome, awoke suddenly to tbe beauty of the evening. And among the -rest of the maidens, but tar more ravishing and high-bred, walked Gracia Aragon, at whom Bud in particular stole many secret glances from beneath the broad brim of his hat, hoping that by some luck the insurrectos would coffee upon the town, and he could defend her —he alone. For he felt that he could do it against -any hundred Mexicans that ever breathed. CHAPTER XII. In its inception the Fortuna hotel had not been intended for the use of Mexicans —in fact, its rates were practically prohibitive for anyone not being paid in gold—but, since most of the Americans had left, and seven dollars a day Mex was no deterrent to the rich refugee land owners, it became of a sudden International, with a fine mixture of purse-proud Spaniards and race-proud American adventurers. Not a very pleasing combination for the parents of romantic damsels destined for some prearranged marriage of state, but very exciting for the damsels and most provocative to the Americans.

After the promenade In the plaza the mothers by common consent preempted the upstairs reception-room, gathering their precious charges in dost; while the Americans, after their custom, foregathered in the lobby, convenient to the bar. Hot arguments about the revolution, and predictions of events to come served to pass the early evening, with many scornful glances at the Mexican dandles who went so Insolently up the stairs. And then, as the refugees retired to their apartments and the spirit of adventure rose uppermost, Phil De Lancey made a dash out into the darkness and came back with a Mexican string band. “A serenade, boys!” he announced, as the musicians filed sheepishly into the hotel. “Our guests, the fair senoritas, you know! We’ll make those young Mexican dudes look like twospots before the war is over. Who’s game now for a song beneath the windows? You know the old stand-bys—-'La Paloma’ and ‘Teresita Mia’ —and you want to listen to me sing ‘Me Gustan Todas’ to Gracia, the fairest of the fair! Come on, fellows, out in the plaza, and then listen to the old folks cuss!” They adjourned then, after a drink for courage, to the moonlight and the plaza; and there, beneath the shuttered windows and vacant balconies, the guitars and- violins took up “La Paloma,” while Phil and a few brave spirits sang. A silence followed their first attempt, as well as their second and third, and the comisarto pf police, a mild creature owned and paid by tbe company, came around and made a few Ineffectual protests. But inside the company’s concession, where by common consent the militant rurales kept their hands off, the Americans knew they were safe, and they soon jollied the comisario into taking a drink and departing. Then De Lancey took up the burden, and the string band, hired by the hour, strummed on as if for eternity.

One by one the windows opened; fretful fathers stepped out on the balcony and, bound by the custom and convention of’ the country, thanked them and bade them good night. But the ■ two' windows behind which the Senor Aragon and his family reposed did not' open and, though the dwindling band stood directly under their balcony, and all knew that his daughter was the fairest of the fair, Don Cipriano did not wish them good night. Perhaps he recognized the leading tenor —and the big voice of Bud Hooker, trying to still the riot —but, however it was, he would not speak to them, and De Lancey would not quit. "Try ’em on American music!” he cried, as everyone but Bud went away In disgust, "the latest rag from Broad-wa-ay, New York. Here, gimme that guitar, hombre,’ and listen to this now!” He picked out a clever bit of syncopation and pitched his voice to a heady twang: "Down In the rarden where the red roses grow. Oh my, I long to go! Pluck me like a flower, cuddle me an hour. Lovie let me learn the Red Rose Ra-ag!" There was some swing to that, and /it seemed to make an Impression, for just as he was well started on the chorus the slats of one of the shutters parted and a patch Of white shone through the spaces. It was the ladies, then, who were getting interested! Phil wailed on: "Sweo-eet honey-bee, be sweet to me!'. < ’ My heart Is free, but here's the key!" And then, positively, he could see that patch of white beat time. He -took heart of grace at that and sang on to the end, and at a suggestion of clapping in dumb-show he gave, an encore and ragged it over again. /■ ‘Ev’rybody's doin’ it, doin’ it, doin’ it!”* he began, as the shadow dance ceased. . •* ‘Honey, I declare, it’s a bear. It’s a bear. It’s a bear!”’ be continued temptingly, and was well on his way to further extravagancies when the figure in white swiftly vanished and a door slammed hard inside the house. Several minutes later the form of Don Juan appeared At the lower door, and In no uncertain tones he requested them to cease. “The Senor Aragon Informs me,” he said, “that your music annoys him.” "Well, let him come to the balcony and say bis *buenas noches,'” answered Phil resentfully. » . •

"The gentleman refuses to do thatC* responded Don Juan briefly. •‘Then let him go to bed!” replied De Lancey, strumming a few syncopated chords; "I’m singing to his. daughter.” At that Don Juan came down off the porch in his slippers and they engaged in a protracted argument. "What, don’t I get a word?” demanded Phil grievously, "not a pleasant look from anybody? ‘Swee-eet honey-bee, be swedt to me!’” he pleaded, turnfng pathetically to the lady’s balcony; and then, with a sudden flourish, a white handkerchief appeared through the crack of ,the shutters and Gracia waved him good night “Enough, Don Juan!” he cried, laying down the guitar with a thump; "this ends our evening’s entertainment!” After paying and thanking the stolid musicians Phil joined Bud and the pair adjourned to their room, where, in the intervals of undressing, Phil

favored the occupants of the x adjoining apartments with an aria from “Beautiful Doll.” But for all such nights of romance and music there is always a morning afterward; and a fine tenor voice set to ragtime never helped much in the development of a mine. Though Bud had remained loyally by his friend in his evening serenade he, for one, never forgot for a moment that they were in Fortuna to work the Eagle Tall and not to win the hearts of SpanishMexican senorltas, no matter how attractive they might be. Bud was a practical man who, if he ever made love, would doubtless do it in a perfectly businesslike way, without hiring any string bands. But at the same time he was willing to make some concessions. “Well, go ahead and get your sleep, then,” he growled, after trying three times in the morning to get his pardner up; "I’m going out to the mine!” Then, with a saddle-gun under his knee and his six-shooter hung at his hip, he rode rapidly down the road, turning out from time to' time to let long cavalcades of mules string by. The dead-eyed arrieros, each with his combined mule-blind and whiplash swinging free, seemed to have very little on their minds but their packlashings, and yet they must be three days out from Moctezuma. Their mules, too, were well loaded with the products of the hot country —fanegas of com in red leather sacks, oranges and fruits in hand-made crates, panoches of sugar in balanced frames, long joints of sugar-cane for the dulce pedlers, and nothing to indicate either haste or flight. Three times he let long pack-trains go by without a word, and then at last, overcome by curiosity, he inquired about the revoltosos. “What revoltosos?" queried the old man to whom he spoke. “Why, the men of Bernardo Bravo," answered Bud; "the men who are marching to take Moctezuma." “When I left Moctezuma,” returned the old man politely, “all was cjuiet—there were no revoltosos. Since then, I cannot say.” “But the soldiers!” cried Bud. “Surely you saw them! ~ They yere marching to fight the rebels.” “Perhaps so,” shrugged the arriero, laying the lash of his topojo across the ruihp of a mule; “but I know nothing about it.” “No,” muttered Bud, as he continued on his way; “and I’ll bet nobody else does.”

Inquiry showed that in this, too, he was correct. From those who traveled fast and from those who traveled slow he received the same wondering answer— the country might be filled with .revoltosos; but, as for them, they knew nothing about it. Not until he got back to Fortuna and the busy federal telegraph .wire did he hear any more news of rapine and bloodshed, and the light which dawned upon him .then was gradually dawning upon the whole town. It was a false alarm, given out for purposes of state and the “higher politics” with which Mexico is cursed, and the- most that was ever seen of Bernardo Bravo and his lawless men was twenty miserable creatures, halfstarved, but with guns In their hands, who had come down out of the mountains east of Moctezuma and killed a few cows for beef. Thoroughly disgusted, and yet vaguely alarmed at thte blt ot operas bouffe warfare. Bud aet himself. .resolutely to’ work to hunt up men for their mine, and, as many poor people were out of employment because of

the genera! etagnation of Mmm, he soon bad ten Mexicans at hie call. Then, as Phil had dropped' out of sight, he ordered supplies at the store and engaged Crus Mendes—who had spent his fortune in three days—to pack the goods out on his mules. They were ready to start the next morning if De Lancey could be found to order the powder and tools, and as the afternoon wore on and no Phil appeared, Bud went on a long hunt which finally discovered him in the balcony of their window, making signs in the language of the "bear,” as a man who flirts with a woman in Mexico is called. "Say, Phil,” he hailed, disregarding his pardner’s obvious preoccupation; "break away for a minute and tell me what kind of powder to get to break that schist—the store closes at five o'clock, and —” He thrust his head out the door as he spoke and paused, abashed. Through the half-closed portal of the next balcony but one he beheld the golden hair of Gracia Aragon, and she fixed her brown eyes upon him with a dazzling, mischievous smile. "O-ho!” murmured Bud, laying a compelling hand on De Lancey and backing swiftly out of range; “so this is what you’re up to—talking signs! But say, Phil,” he continued, beckoning him peremptorily with a Jerk of his head, “I got ten men hired and a lot of grub bought, and if you don’t pick out that mining stuff we’re going to lose a day. So get the lady to excuse you and come on now.” "In a minute,” pleaded Phil, and he went at the end of his allotted time, and perhaps it was the imp Of jealousy that put strength into Hooker’s arm. "Well, that’s all right,” said Bud, as Phil began hie laughing excuses; "but you want to remember the Maine, pardner—-we didn’t come down here to play the bear. When they’s any lovemaking to be done I want to be in on it. And you want to remember that promise you made me —you said you wouldn’t have a thing to do with the Aragon outfit unless I was with you!” "Why, you aren’t —you aren’t Jealous, are you, Bud?” "Yes, I’m Jealous!’ answered Hooker harshly; “Jealous as the devil! And I want you to keep that promise, see?” “Aw, Bud —’’ began De Lancey incredulously; but Hooker silenced him with a look. Perhaps he was really jealous, or perhaps he only eaid so to have his way, but Phil saw that he was in earnest, and he went quietly by his side. But love had set his brain In a whirl, and he thought no more of his promise—only of some subtler way of meeting his inamorata, some way which Bud would fall to see.

CHAPTER XIII. For sixty days and more, while the weather had been turning from cold to warm and they -had been laboring feebly to clear away the great slide of loose rock that covered up the ledge, the Eagle Tail mine had remained a mystery. Whether, like the old Eagle Tail of frontier fable, it was so rich that only the eagle’s head was needed to turn the chunks into twenty-dollar gold pieces; or whether, like many other frontier mines, it was nothing but a hole in the ground, was a matter still to be settled. And Bud, for one, was determined to settle it quickly. “Come on,” he said, ae Phil hesitated to open up the way to the lead; “we got a month, maybe less, to get to the bottom of this; and then the hills will be lousy with rebels. If they’s nothing here, we want to find out about it quick and skip—and if we strike it, by grab, they ain’t enough red-flaggers in Sonora to pry me loose from it. So show these hombres where to work and we’ll be up against rock by the end of the week.” The original Eagle Tall tunnel had been driven into the side of a steep hill; so steep, in'fact, that the loose ehale stretched, in long shoots from the base of the frowning porphyry dikes that crowned the tops of the hills to the bottom of the canyon. On either side of the discovery gulch sharp ridges, perforated by the gopherholes of the Mexicans and the ancient workings of the Spaniards, ran dlrlctl/up the hill to meet the contact But it was against the face of the big ridge itself that Kruger had driven his drift and exploded his giant blast of dynamite, and the whole slope had been altered and covered with a slide of rock. Against this slide, in the days when they were marking time, Bud and his pardner had directed their energies, throwing the loose stones aside, building up walls against the slip, and clearing the way to the solid schist There, somewhere beneath the Jumble of powder-riven rock, lay the ledge which, if they found it would make them rich; and now with single-jack and drill, they attacked the last huge fragments, blasting them into pieces and groveling deeper until they could strike the contact where the schist and porphyry met and. the gold spra* had spewed up between.

"You Live Here?” Inquired the Yaqul.

Gracia Waved Him Good-Night.