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Show The Land of Broken Promises A Stirring Story of the Mexican Revolution By DANE COOLIDGE AMhtr tf "The Filbtiif Fool." "Hidden Wacen." "The Texican." Etc. (Copyright, 1914, by Frank A. Munsey.) 6 SYNOPSIS. ' Bud Hooker and Phil De Lancey are forced, owing to a revolution In Mexico, to give up their mining claim and return to the United States. In the border town of Gadsden Bud meets Henry Kruger, a wealthy miner, who makes him a proposition propo-sition 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 ono Aragon. The Mexican subsequently spent a large sum in an unsuccessful attempt to relocate relo-cate the vein and then allowed ttie land to revert for taxes. Hooker and De Lancey Lan-cey arrive at Fortuna near where the mine, known as the Eagle Tail, is located. lo-cated. They engage the services of Cruz Mendez, who has been friendly to Kruger, to acquire the title for them and get a permit to do preliminary work. Aragon protests and accuses them of jumping his laim. CHAPTER VII Continued. For a minute Don Cipriano stood looking at him, his black eyes heavy with rage; then hie anger seemed to fall away from him and he wiped the sweat from his brow. "Very well," he said at last, "I perceive per-ceive that you are a gentleman and have acted In good faith it is only that that fellow Mendez has deceived you. Let" it pass, then I will not quarrel with you, my friend it is the fortune of war. But stop at my store when you go by and come and see me. It is indeed lonely here at times, and perhaps I can pass a pleasant hour with you. My name, senor, ie Don Cipriano Aragon y Tres Palacios and yours?" He held out his hand with a little gesture. "Philip De Lancey," replied Phil, clasping the proffered hand; and with many expressions of good-will and esteem, with a touching of hats and a wiggling of fingers from the distance, they parted, in spite of Bud, the best of friends. CHAPTER VIII. There are some people in this world with whom it seems impossible to quarrel, quar-rel, notably the parents of attractive daughters. Perhaps, if Gracia Aragon had not been watching him from the window Philip De Lancey would not have been quite so cordial with her father at least, that was what Hooker thought, and he was so badly peeved at the way things had gone that he said it, too. Then, of course, they quarreled, and, one thing leading to another, Phil told Bud he had a very low way of speaking. speak-ing. Bud replied that, whatever his deficiencies of speech might be, he was not fool enough to be drawn in by a skirt, and Phil rebuked him again. Then, with a 6cornful grunt, Bud Honker rode on in silence and they sairi no more about it. U was a gay life that they led at eight for the Fortuna hotel was filled with men of their kind, since all the staid married men had either moved across the line with their families or were under orders to come straight home. In the daytime the hotel was nearly deserted, for every man in town was working for the company; but in the , evening, when they gathered around the massive stove, it was a merry company com-pany indeed. There were college men, full of good Stories and stories not so good, world--wanderers and adventurers with such tales of the East and West as never have been written in books. But not a college boy could match stories with Phil De Lancey, and few wanderers there were who could tell him anything any-thing new about Mexico. Also, when It came to popular songs, he knew both the words and the tune. So he was much in demand, and Don Juan passed many drinks across the bar because be-cause of him. In all Buch festivities the two pard-ners pard-ners stayed together; Bud, with a broad, indulgent grin, listening to the end, and Phil, his eyes alight with liquor and good cheer, talking and laughing far into the night. Outside the winter winds were still Cold and the Mexicans went wrapped to the eyebrows; but within the merry company was slow to quit, and Phil, tiuatiiig up for the lonely months' when he had entirely lacked an audience, audi-ence, eat long in the seat of honor and was always the last to go. But on the evening after their spat Bud sat off to one side, and even Phil's sprightly and veptriloquistic conversation conversa-tion with the-littfe-girl-behind-the-door called forth only a fleeting smile. Bud was thinking, and when engaged en-gaged in that arduous occupation even the saucy little girl behind the door could not beguile him. But, after he had studied it all out and come to a definite conclusion, he did not deliver an ultimatum. The old, good-natured smile simply came back to his rugged face; he rolled a cigarette; cigar-ette; and then for the rest of the evening eve-ning he lay back and enjoyed the show. Only in the morning, when they went out to the corral to get their horses, he carried his war-bag with him and, after throwing the saddle on to Copper Bottom, he did the same for their spare mount. ""What are you going to pack out, Bud?" Inquired Phil, and Bud slapped his canvas-covered bed for an answer. Then, with a heave, he snaked it out of the harnessroom where it had been stored and slung it deftly across the pack-saddle. "Why, what's the matter?" said De Lancey, when they were on their way; "don't you like the hotel?" "Hotel's fine," conceded Bud, "but I reckon I'd better camp out at the mine. Want to keep my eye on that Mexican of ours." "Aw, he's all right!" protested Phil. "Sure," said Bud; "I ain't afraid he'll steal something but he might take a notion to quit the country." "Why, what for?" challenged De Lancey. "He's got his wife and family here." "That's nothing to a Mexican!" countered Bud. "But I ain't figuring on the excuse he'd give that won't buy me nothing what I want to do is to keep him from going. Because if we lose that Mex now, we lose our mine." "And" "No 'and' to it," said Bud doggedly. "We ain't going to lose him." "But if we did," persisted De Lancey, Lan-cey, "why, then you think " "Your friend would get it," finished Hooker grimly. "Ah, I see," nodded De Lancey, noting the accent on "friend." "You don't approve of my making friends with Aragon." "Oh, that's all right," shrugged the big cowboy; "it won't make no difference differ-ence now. Go ahead, if you want to." "You mean you can get along without with-out me?" "No," answered Bud, "I don't mean nothing except what I say. If you want to palaver around with Aragon, go to it. I'll round up Mendez and his family and keep 'em right there at the mine until we get them papers signed after that I don't care what hap pens." "Oh, all right," murmured De Lancey Lan-cey in a subdued tone; but if his conscience con-science smote him for the moment it did not lead to the making of any sentimental sen-timental New Year's resolutions, for he Btopped when he came to the store and exchanged salutations with Aragon, Ara-gon, who was lounging expectantly before be-fore his door. "Buenos dias, Don Cipriano!" he hailed. "How are you this morning?" "Ah, good morning, Don Felipe," responded re-sponded Aragon, stepping forth from the shadow of the door. "I am very well, thank you and you?" "The same!" answered Phil, as If it were a great piece of news. "It is fine weather no?" "Yes, but a little dry!" said Aragon, and so they passed it back and forth in the accepted Spanish manner, while Bud hooked one leg over the horn of his saddle and regarded the hacienda with languid eyes. But as his gaze swept the length of the vine-covered corredor it halted for a moment and a slow smile came over his face. In the green depths of a passion-flower vine he had detected a quick, birdlike motion; and then suddenly, like a transformation scene, he beheld a merry face, framed and illuminated by soft, golden locks, peering peer-ing out at him from among the blossoms. blos-soms. Except for that brief smile he made no sign that he saw her, and when he looked up again the face had disappeared. Don Cipriano showed them about his mescal plant, where his men kept a continual stream of liquid fire running from the copper worm, and gave each a raw drink; but though De Lancey gazed admiringly at the house and praised tho orange trees that hung over the garden wall, Spanish hospitality hospi-tality could go no farther, and the visit ended in a series of adioses and much-as much-as graciases. "Quick work!" commented Phil, as they rode toward the mine; "the old man has got over his grouch." "Urn," mused Bud, with a quiet, brooding smile; and the next time he rode into town he looked for the masked face among the flowers and 6miled again. That was the way Gracia Gra-cia Aragon affected them all. He did not point out the place to Phil, nor betray her by any sign. All he did was to glance at her once and then ride on his way, but somehow his heart stood still when he met her eyes, and his days became filled with a pensive, brooding melancholy. "What the matter, Bud?" rallied Phil, after he had jollied him for a week; "you're getting mighty quiet lately. Got another hunch like that one you had up at Agua Negra?" "Nope," grinned Bud; "but I'll tell you one thing if old Aragon don't spring something pretty soon I'm going go-ing to get uneasy. He's too dog-goned good-natured about this." "Maybe he thinks we're stuck," suggested sug-gested De Lancey. "Well, he's awful happy about something," some-thing," said Bud. "I can see by the way he droops that game eye of his and smiles that way that he knows we're working for him. If we don't get a title to this mine, every tap of work we do on it is all to the good for him, that's a cinch. So sit down now and think it out Where's the joker?" "Well," mused Phil, "the gold is here somewhere. He knows we're not fooled there. And he knows we're right after it, the way we're driving this cut in. Our permit is good he hasn't tried to buffalo Mendez and it's a cinch he can't denounce the claim himself." "Maybe he figures on letting us do all the work and pay all the denouncement denounce-ment fees and then spring something big on old One-Eye," propounded Bud. "Scare 'im up or buy 'im off, and have him transfer the title to him. That's the way he worked Kruger." "Well, say," urged Phil, "let's go ahead with our denouncement before he starts something. Besides, the warm weather Is coming on now, and if we don't get a move on we're likely to get ran out by the revoltosos." "Nope," said Bud; "I don't put this into Mendez's hands until I know he's our man and if I ever do go ahead I'll keep him under my Bix-shooter until the last paper is signed, believe me. I know we're in bad somewhere, but hurrying up won't help none. "Now I tell you what we'll do you go to the mining agent and get copies of all our papers and send them up to that Gadsden lawyer. I'm going to go down and board with Mendez and see if I can read his heart." So they separated, and while Phil stayed in town to look over the records rec-ords Bud ate his beans and tortillas with the Mendez family. They were a happy little family, comfortably installed in the stone house that Mendez had built, and rapidly rap-idly getting fat on three full meals a day. From his tent farther up the canyon Bud could look down and watch the children at play and see the comely Indian wits as she cooked by the open fire. Certainly no one could be more Innocent In-nocent and contented than she wae, and El Tuerto was all bows and protestations pro-testations of gratitude. And yet. you never can tell. Bud had moved out of the new house to furnish quarters for El Tuerto and had favored him in every way; but this same consideration might easily be misinterpreted, for the Mexicans are slow to understand kindness. So, while on the one haDd he had treated them generoudy, be had always al-ways kept his distance, lest they be tempted to presume. But now, with Phil in town for a few days, he took his meals with Maria, who was too awed to Bay a word, and made friends with the dogs and the children. The way to the dog's heart was easy, almost direct, and he finally won the attention of little Pancho and Josefa with a well-worn Sunday supplement. This gaudy institution, with its spicy stories and startling illustrations, had penetrated even to the wilds of Sonora, and every Sunday as regularly as the paper came Bud sat down and had his laugh over the funny page. But to Pancho, who was six years old and curious, this sawe highly colored col-ored sheet was a mystery of mysteries, and when he saw the Big American laughing he crept up and looked at it wistfully. "Mira," said Bud, laying his finger upon the smirking visagB of one of the comic characters, "look, and I will tell you the story." And so, with laborious care, ho translated the colored fun, while the little Mendezes squirmed with excitement excite-ment and leaped with joy. Even the simple souls of El Tuerto and Maria wer moved by the comicas, and Mendez Men-dez became so interested that he learned the words by heart, the better to explain them to others. But as for Mexican treachery, Bud could find none of it. In fact, finding them so simple-hearted and good-natured, he became half ashamed of his early suspicions and waited for the return of Phil to explain Don Clpri-ano's Clpri-ano's complacency. But the next Sunday, as Bud lay reading in his tent, the mystery solved itself. Cruz Mendez came up from the house, hat in hand and an apologetic smile on his face, and after the customary cus-tomary roundabout remarks he asked the boss as a favor if he would lend him the page of comic pictures. "Seguro!" assented Bud, rolling over and fumbling for the funny sheet; then, failing to find it instantly, he inquired: in-quired: "What do you want it for?" "Ah, to show to my boy!" explained El Tuerto, bis one eye lighting up with, pride. "Who Pancho?" "Ah, no, senor," answered Mendez simply, "my boy in La Fortuna, the one you have not seen." Bud stopped fumbling for the paper and sat up suddenly. Here was a new light on their faithful servitor, and one that might easily take away from his value as a dummy locator. "Oh!" he said, and then; "How many children have you, Cruz?" Cruz smiled deprecatingly, as parents par-ents will, and turned away. "By which woman?" he inquired, and Bud became suddenly very calm, fearing fear-ing the worst. For if Cruz was not legally married to Maria, he could not transfer the mining claim. "By all of them," he said quietly. "Five in all," returned Cruz "three by Maria, as you know two by my first woman and one other, I do not count him." "Well, you one-eyed old reprobate!" muttered Bud in his throat, but he passed it off and returned smiling to the charge. "Where does your boy live now?" he asked with flattering solicitude, the better to make him talk, "and is he old enough to understand the pictures?" pic-tures?" "Ah, yes!" beamed Mendez, "he is twelve years old. He lives with his mother now and my little daughter, too. Their mamma is the woman of the mayordomo of the Senor Aragon a bad man, very ugly she is not married mar-ried to him." "But with you " suggested Bud, regarding re-garding him with a steely stare. "Only by the Judge!" exclaimed Mendez virtuously. "It was a love-match, love-match, and the priest did not come so we were married by the judge. Then this bad mayordomo stole her away from me the pig and I married mar-ried Maria instead. Maria is a good woman and I married her before the priest but I love my other children, too, even though they are not lawful." "So you married your first wife before be-fore the judge," observed Bud cynically, cynical-ly, "and this one before the priest. But how could you do that, unless you had been divorced?" "Ah, senor," protested Mendez, holding hold-ing out his hands, "you do not understand. under-stand. It is only the church that can really marry the judge does it only for the money. Maria is my true wife and we have three nice children but as I am going through La Fortuna I should like to show the picture paper to my boy." Bud regarded him in meditative silence, si-lence, then he rose up and began a determined de-termined search for the funny sheet. "All right," he said, handing it over, "and here is a panoche of sugar for your little girl the one in La Fortuna. It is nothing," he added, as Mendez began his thanks. "But oh, you marrying Mexican," he continued, relapsing Into his mother tongue as El Tuerto disappeared; "you certainly have dished us right." CHAPTER IX. Not the least of the causes which have brought Mexico to the brink of the abyss is the endless quarrel between be-tween church and state, which has almost al-most destroyed the sanctity of marriage mar-riage and left, besides, a pitiful heritage her-itage of deserted women and fatherless father-less children as its toll. Many an honest laborer has peoned himself to pay the priest for his marriage, mar-riage, only to be told that it is not legal in the eyes of the law; and many another, married by the judge, has been gravely informed by the padre that the woman is only his mistress, and the children born out of wedlock. So that now, to be sure that she is wedded, a woman must be married twice, and many a couple, on account of the prohibitive fees, are never married mar-ried at all. Cruz Mendez was no different from the men of his class, and he believed honestly that he was married to the comely Maria; but Hooker could have enlightened him on that point if he had cared to do it. Bud was playing a game, with the Eagle Tail mine for a stake; and, being be-ing experienced at poker, he stood pat and studied his hand. Without doubt Mendez had lost his usefulness as a locator of the mine, since Maria was not his legal wife and could not sign the transfer papers as such. According Accord-ing to the law of the laud, the woman now living with Aragon's mayordomo was the "legitimate" wife of the contract, con-tract, and she alone could release title to the mine once Mendez denounced the claim. But Mendez had not yet denounced the claim though for a period of some thirty days yet he had the exclusive ex-clusive privilege of doing so and Bud did not intend that he should. Meanwhile they must walk softly, leaving Aragon to still hug the delusion delu-sion that he would soon, through his mayordomo, have them in his power and when the full sixty days of Cruz Mendez's mining permit had expired they could locate the mine again. But how and through whom? That was the question that Bud was Btudy-i Btudy-i lng upon when Phil rode up the trail, and In Ms abstraction he barely i turned his gay greeting. "Well, cheer up, old top!" cried D Lancey, throwing his bridle-reins the ground and striding up to the Ui "What ho, let down the portcullis, tA lord seneschal! And cease your vt, repining, Algernon our papers are i! 0. K. and the lawyer says to go aheii But that isn't half the news! Say, i had a dance up at the hotel last niju and I met " ' ( "Yes sure you did," broke In Btj "but listen to this!" And he told h:j of El Tuerto's matrimonial entang! ments. I "Why, the crooked devil!" exciairr De Lancey, leaping up at the fini: ' "Oyez! Mendez!" f "Don't say a word," warned B., springing to the tent door to intercf, him, "or you'll put us out of buslne;' It is nothing," he continued In Span:e as Mendez came out of bis house, "i!' put Don Felipe's horse In the cor when he Is cool." . "Si, senor with great pleasurt smirked Mendez, running to get tjc horse, and after he had departed Li turned back and shook his head, r "We can't afford to quarrel with X. Mendez," he said; "because if AragE ever gets hold of him we're ditch Jest let everything run on like w overlooked something until the sir" days are up then, if we get aw' with it, we'll locate the mine o selves." f "Yes; but how?" "Well, they's two ways," return' Bud; "either hunt up another Mexic.-1 citizen or turn Mexican ourselves." t "Turn Mexican!" shrilled Phil, a then he broke down and laughs' "Well, you're a great one, Bud," chortled; "you sure are!" I "I come down here to get this mintf said Bud laconically. 1 "Yes, but you're a Texan or wi; one!" s "That makes no difference," a: swered Bud stoutly. "The hot weattt is coming on revolution is likely s begin any time and there ain't a e gle Mexican we can trust. Jest o: more break now and we lose out nts how about it?" i "Who's going to turn Mexican questioned De Lancey, "you or me?" "Well I will, then!" "No, you won't, either!" cried Pt forgetting his canny shrewdness. "lido "li-do it myself! I'm half Mexican 4 ready, I've been eating chili so long i "Now here," began Bud, "listen :: me. I've been thinking this over day and you jest heard about it. T-1 man that turns Mexican is likely i get mixed up with the authorities a:' have to skip the country, but the oth 1 feller is in the other way he's got :; stay with the works till hell free: 1 over. e "Now you're an engineer and j $ know how to open up a mine I don1 So, if you say so, I'll take out the i1 pers and you hold the mine or if y r want to you can turn Mex." I "Well," said De Lancey, his voi suddenly becoming soft and pensiv "I might as well tell you. Bud, tfc-' I'm thinking of settling in this coc try, anyway. Of course, I don't lex at Aragon the way you do I thk you are prejudiced and misjudge hi: but ever since I've knowp. Grac. I've-" "Gracia!" repeated Bud; and the't stirred by some great and unreason!::, anger, he rose up and threw down t, hat pettishly. "I'd think, Phil," 1, muttered, "you'd be satisfied with i the other girls in the world without "Now here!" shouted Phil, rising unreasoningly to his feet, "don't j? say another word against that girl, i 111" 1 "Shut your mouth, you lift) shrimp!" bellowed Bud, wheeling up.t him menacingly. "You seem to thlr" you're the only man in the wor that" I "Oh, Elush, Bud!" cried Phil In d gust, "you ddn't mean to tell me you1: in love with Gracia too!" "Who me?" demanded Hooker, b face suddenly becoming fixed a: masklike; and then be laughed hoars ly in derision and sank down on tt bed. Certainly, of the two of them, k was the more surprised at his suddt outbreak of passion; and yet when tt words were spoken he was quick t know that they were true. i (TO BE CONTINUED.) j |