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Updated: May 7, 2025
"They've got a road agent it's the posse p'r'aps they've got Ramerrez or one o' his band!" suddenly declared the Girl, at the same time rushing over to the window for some verification of her words. But, as before, the wind was beating with great force against the frosted panes, and only a vast stretch of snow met her gaze.
"Oh, yes, I know you you are the Sheriff," and so saying a peal of contemptuous merriment burst from her, "and Ramerrez was in the camp not less than two hours ago." Ashby could hardly restrain his excitement. "And you saw him?" came from him. "Yes," was her answer. Both men sprang to their feet; it was impossible to doubt any longer that she spoke the truth. "What's his game?" demanded Rance.
Her mind was busy trying to determine upon the best course to pursue. At length she decided to make one more attempt to see whether he was really in earnest. And if not . . . "But to-night," she hazarded, leaning far over the table and putting her face close to his, her eyes the while flooded with voluptuousness, "you will come with me to my room?" Ramerrez shook his head.
When they had pledged each other, Ramerrez went on to say, in a low voice, that he had made the appointment in order to deliver to her her share for the information that led to his successful holdup of the stage at a place known as "The Forks," a few miles back; and taking from his pocket a sack of gold he placed it on the table before her.
Whereupon, Rance, with no such compunctions, became the spokesman, a grimace of pleasure spreading over his countenance as he thought of the unpleasant surprise he was about to impart. Stretching out his stiffened fingers over the blaze, he said in his most brutal tones: "Your polkying friend is none other than Ramerrez." The Girl's eyes opened wide, but they did not look at the Sheriff.
In order to see if the woman he sought was present, it was necessary for Ramerrez to push to the very front of the crowd of lookers-on, where he was not long in observing that nearly all the women present were of striking appearance and danced well; likewise, he noted, that none compared either in looks or grace with Nina Micheltoreña who, he had to acknowledge, even if his feelings for her were dead, was a superb specimen of a woman.
You, father, a Ramerrez, a bandit?" "Ay, a bandit, an outlaw, as you also will be when I am no more, and rob, rob, rob, these Americanos. It is my command and you have sworn . . ." The son's eyes were rivetted upon his father's face as the old man fell back, completely exhausted, upon his couch of rawhides.
For, taking advantage of his great knowledge of the country, he contrived to make his way through the American lines with his few followers, and from that time may be said to have taken matters into his own hand. Old Ramerrez was conscious that his end was merely a matter of hours, if not minutes.
" Ramerrez' band's everywhere," completed Ashby with a start, his quick and trained ear having caught the sound of horses' hoofs. "But if a road agent did come here, I could offer 'im a drink an' he'd treat me like a perfect lady," contended the Girl, confidently. "You bet he would, the durned old halibut!" was Sonora's comment, while Nick took occasion to ask the Girl for some tobacco.
That was what she was seeing, and with a pious wish for its confirmation she began to make herself a fresh cigarette, rolling it dexterously with her white, delicate fingers, and not until her task was accomplished and her full, red lips were sending forth tiny clouds of smoke did she announce: "Ramerrez was in Cloudy Mountain to-night."
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