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"She ain't so crazy as you think, if that's so. Do you run this place or are you jest starvin' to death here?" "There is still a little wine and we buy what we may need of Mescalero. If you will come in " "So they missed old Mescalero! Well, he's lucky. No, I don't come in. I tried boardin' at your house onct." "Then I will get the tortillas." And Flores shuffled into the saloon.
"Of course you'll run some rather heavy risks else the place would not be going so cheap but no more than you have been taking the last five years in the Sioux country. A little bunch of Lipans are constantly on the warpath, Mescalero raiding parties drop in occasionally, and the bandits seem to need a good many prestamos; but all that you have been up against.
The other disturbance occurred at the Mescalero Agency, in New Mexico, where Victoria, at the head of a small band of marauders, after committing many atrocities, being vigorously chased by a military force, made his way across the Mexican border and is now on foreign soil.
The soldiers of the latter post, and the Indians of the Mescalero reservation near by, needed supplies. There were others besides John Chisum who might need a beef contract now and then, and cattle to fill it.
The Spider turned and gazed across the morning desert. Far out rode a group of men. One of them led a riderless horse. The Spider's thin lips twisted in a smile. Malvey, loafing at the ranch of Mescalero, received The Spider's message about the posse with affected indifference. He had Pete's horse in his possession, which in itself would make trouble should he be seen.
It was growing dark too, and I was a long distance from camp, and the country was full of Mescalero Apaches, and I hadn't even a stick to reach him with. What could I do? I bethought myself of my powder-flask, and taking good aim, hurled it with all the force I could muster. It struck him fairly on the body and with a rattle of defiance, he sprang towards me, and I well, I jumped.
He had fought a good fight, one that would be a story worth telling when she had become an old woman with grandchildren at her knee. "Does your foot hurt you much?" she asked gently. "It sort o' keeps my memory jogged up. It's a kind of forget-me-not souvenir, for a good boy, compliments of a Mescalero buck, name unknown, probably now permanently retired from his business of raisin' Cain.
He knew that within forty-eight hours a band of about twenty Mescalero bucks had returned to camp this way from an antelope hunt and that they carried with them half a dozen pronghorns. It was a safe guess that they were part of the large camp the smoke of which he had seen. Long before the young man struck the drive, he knew he was close by the cloud of dust and the bawling of the cattle.
But by the time they reached the Mescalero Agency, the feud was ended; the peace of exhaustion after years of open war and ambush had descended upon Lincoln County, and the Mescaleros were glad enough quietly to draw their rations of flour and coffee, and range the Sacramentos and Guadalupes for game. For Jim and the band of Indian police which he quickly organized there was nothing doing.
It is proper to set down here the chronicle of that undertaking, because that will best serve to show the manner in which a frontier sheriff gets a bad man. When the Kid and his gang killed the agency clerk, Bernstein, on the Mescalero reservation, they committed a murder on United States government ground and an offense against the United States law.
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