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Updated: June 21, 2025
Boca Dulzura or "pretty mouth" of the Flores rancho cared for no man, but she liked men, especially when they gave her presents. When she came from her room, Malvey laughingly accused her of "fixing up" because of Pete, as he teased her about her gay rebosa and her crimson sash. She affected scorn for his talk but was naturally pleased.
"You're both wrong and you got about three hours to find it out in," said Pete. Malvey and The Spider glanced at one another. Evidently Pete was more shrewd than they had suspected. And evidently he would be followed to Showdown. "It's a killing," whispered The Spider. "I thought that it was. How do you size him up?" "Pretty smooth for a kid," said Malvey.
What appeared to be hearty good-nature in Malvey was in reality a certain blatantly boisterous vigor a vigor utterly soulless, and masking a nature at bottom as treacherous as The Spider's but in contrast squalid and mean. Malvey would steal five dollars. The Spider would not touch a job for less than five hundred.
"Kind of funny but I was headin' south myself," said Pete. "Bein' a stranger I might git lost alone." "Which wouldn't scare you none," guffawed, Malvey. "Which wouldn't scare me none," said Pete. "But a crowd of friends riding in sudden " suggested The Spider. "I 'd be plumb scared to death," said Pete. "I got your number," asserted The Spider. "Then hang her on the rack.
Already the lamp on Flores's table was lighted, there in the kitchen where Malvey was drinking wine with the old Mexican. Pete had forgotten Boca almost forgotten where he was for the moment, when something touched his arm. He turned a startled face to the girl. She smiled and then whispered quickly, "It is that I hate that 'Bool' Malvey. He is bad. Of what are you thinking, señor?"
They came upon the cañon suddenly, so suddenly that Pete's horse shied and circled. Malvey, leading, put his own pony down a steep and winding trail. Pete followed, fixing his eyes on a far green spot at the bottom of the cañon, and the thin thread of smoke above the trees that told of a habitation. At a bend in the trail, Malvey turned in the saddle: "We'll bush down here. Friends of mine."
But, honest, I wouldn't know where else to go but to Showdown. Besides, I got a hunch Malvey was headed that way." "That is as a man speaks," said the señora. "My man was like that once but now " "I'm broke no dineros," said Pete. "It is my horse that he shall have " Boca began. But her mother interrupted quietly. "The young señor will return and there are many ways to pay. We are poor.
Flores mumbled a protest. Malvey asked him if he let the women run the place. Boca's mother turned to Malvey. "You will go," she said quietly. Malvey cursed as he stepped from the room. He could face Boca's fury, or face any man in a quarrel, but there was something in the deathlike quietness of the sad-eyed Mexican woman that chilled his blood.
And the young stranger was staring at her, which pleased her still more. "This here hombre is Pete," said Malvey. "He left his other name to home." And he laughed raucously. Pete bowed, taking the introduction quite seriously. Boca was piqued. This young caballero did not seem anxious to know her like the other men. He did not smile. "Pete," she lisped, with a tinge of mockery in her voice.
She had barely touched his fingers when the horse shied and reared. "If Malvey he kill you I shall kill him!" she whispered fiercely. "I'm comin' back," said Pete. A shadow flung across the night; and Boca. was standing gazing into the black wall through which the shadow had plunged.
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