CHAPTER III--CORAVEL TIO ENJOYS A BUSY MORNING
Coravel Tio sold curios in the old town of Santa Fe. He also soldantiques, real and fraudulent; he had a wholesale business in Indianwares that extended over the whole land.
Coravel Tio was one of the few Americans who could trace their ancestryin an unbroken line for three hundred years. It was almost exactly threehundred years since the ancestor of Coravel Tio had come to Santa Fe asa conquistador. Coravel Tio was wont to boast of this, an easily provenfact; and, boasting, he had sold the conquistador's battered old armourat least fifty times.
When the boasts of Coravel Tio were questioned, he would admit with achuckle that he was a philosopher; and do not all philosophers live bylying, senor? There was great truth in him when he was not selling hisancestor's armour to tourists--and even then, if he happened to like thelooks of the tourist, he would gently insinuate that as a business manhe sold fraudulent wares and lied nobly about them, but that in privatehe was a philosopher. And the tourists, liking this quaintly naivespeech, bought the more.
It was a big, dark, quiet shop, full of Indian goods and weapons,antique furniture that would have made Chippendale's eyes water,ivories, old paintings, manuscripts from ancient missions. A good halfof Coravel Tio's shop was not for sale at any price. Neither, said men,was Coravel Tio.
He was a soft-spoken little man, quiet, of strange smiles and strangesilences. His was the art of making silence into a reproof, an assent, acurse. The world of Santa Fe moved about Uncle Coravel and heeded himnot, shouldered him aside; and Coravel Tio, knowing his fathers to havebeen conquistadores, smiled gently at the world. His name was usuallydismissed with a shrug--in effect, a huge tribute to him. Talleyrandwould have given his soul to have been accorded such treatment from thediplomats of Europe; it would have rendered him invincible.
One of those rare men was Coravel Tio whose faculties, masked bychildish gentleness, grow more terribly keen with every passing year.His brain was like a seething volcano--a volcano which seems to beextinct and cold and impotent, yet which holds unguessed fires somewheredeep within itself.
Upon a day, some time following the meeting of Mehitabel Crump withThady Shea, this Coravel Tio was standing in talk with one Cota, anative member of the legislature then in session.
"But, senor!" was volubly protesting the legislator, with excitement."They say the majority is assured, that the bill already drawn, that thecapital is to be moved to Albuquerque at this very session!"
"I know," said Coravel, passively, his dark eyes gently mournful.
"You know? But what--what is to be done? Shall those down-state peopletake away our capital? We must prevent it! We must do something! It'sthis man Mackintavers who is at the bottom of it, I suppose----"
Coravel Tio fingered a blanket which topped a pile beside him--a gaudyred blanket. He regarded it with curious eyes.
"I fear this is not genuine--it does not have the old Spanish uniformred," he murmured, as though inwardly he were thinking only of hiswares. Then suddenly his eyes lifted to the other man, and he smiled. Inhis smile was a piercing hint of mockery like a half-sheathed sword;before that smile Cota stammered and fell silent.
"Oh, senor, this matter of the capital!" answered Coravel Tio, softly."Why, for many, many years men have said that the capital is to be movedto Albuquerque; yet it has not been moved! Nor will it be moved. And,Senor Cota, let me whisper something to you! I hear that you have boughta new automobile. That is very nice, very nice! But, senor, if by anychance you are misled into voting for that bill, it would be a very sadevent in your life; a most unhappy event, I assure you! Senor, customersawait me. _Adios._"
As the legislator left the shop, he furtively crossed himself, wonderand fear struggling in his pallid features.
The merchant now turned to his waiting customers. Of these, one was aPueblo, a Cochiti man as the fashion of his high white moccasins andbarbaric apparel testified to a knowing eye. The others were two whitemen who together approached the curio dealer. Coravel Tio stepped to ashow case filled with onyx and other old carvings, and across this facedthe two men with an uplift of his brows, a silent questioning.
"You're Mr. Coravel--Coravel Tio?" queried one of the two. The dealermerely smiled and nodded, in his birdlike fashion. "Can we see you inprivate?"
"I have no privacy," said Coravel Tio. "This is my shop. You may speakfreely."
"Huh!" grunted the other, surveying him in obvious hesitation. "Well, Idunno. Me and my partner here have been workin' down to Magdalena, andwe had a scrap with some fellers and laid 'em out. Right after that, anative by the name of Baca tipped us off that they was Mackintavers'men, and we'd better light out in a hurry. He give us a loan and said totell you about it, so we lit out here."
Coravel Tio seemed greatly puzzled by this tale.
"My dear sir," he returned, slowly, "I am a curio dealer. I do not knowwhy you were sent to me. Do you?"
"Hell, no!" The miner stared at him disgustedly. "Must ha' been somemistake."
"Undoubtedly. I am most sorry. However, if you are looking for work, Imight be able to help you--it seems to me that someone wrote me for acouple of men. Excuse me one moment while I look up the letter. What areyour names, my friends?"
"Me? I'm Joe Gilbert. My partner here is Alf Lewis."
Coravel Tio left them, and crossed to a glassed-in box of an office. Heopened a locked safe, swiftly inspected a telegraph form, and nodded tohimself in a satisfied manner. He returned to the two men, tapped for amoment upon the glass counter, meditatively, then addressed them.
"Senors, I regret the mistake exceedingly. Still, if you want work, Isuggest that you drive over to Domingo this afternoon with my cousin,who lives there. You may stay a day or two with him, then this friend ofmine will pick you up and take you to work."
The second man, Lewis, spoke up hesitantly.
"Minin' is our work, mister. We ain't no ranchers."
"Certainly." Coravel Tio smiled, gazing at him. "You will not work for anative, my friends. Ah, no! Be here at two this afternoon, please."
The two men left the shop. Outside, in the Street, they paused andlooked at each other. The second man, Lewis, swore under his breath.
"Joe, how in hell did he know we was worried over workin' for a greaserboss?"
Gilbert merely shrugged his shoulders and strode away.
Within the shop, Coravel Tio turned to the waiting Indian andspoke--this time neither in Spanish nor English, but in the Indiantongue itself. As he spoke, however, he saw the stolid redskin make aslight gesture. Catlike, Coravel Tio turned about and went to meet a manwho had just entered the shop; catlike, too, he purred suave greeting.
A large man, this new arrival--square of head and jaw and shoulder, withsmall gray eyes closely set, a moustache bristling over a square mouth,ruthless hardness stamped in every line of figure, face, and manner. Hewas dressed carelessly but well.
"Morning," he said, curtly. His eyes bit sharply about the place, thenrested with intent scrutiny upon the proprietor. "Morning, Coravel Tio.I been looking for someone who can talk Injun. I've got a propositionthat won't handle well in Spanish; it's got to be put to 'em in theirown tongue. I hear that you can find me someone."
Regretfully, Coravel Tio shook his head.
"No--o," he said, in reflective accents. "I am sorry, Mr. Mackintavers.My clerk, Juan Estrada, spoke their language, but he joined the army andis still in service. Myself, I know of it only a word or two. But wait!Here is a Cochiti man who sells me turquoise; he might serve you asinterpreter, if he is willing."
He called the loitering Indian, and in the bastard Spanish patois of thecountry put the query. Mackintavers, who also spoke the tongue well,intervened and tried to employ the Indian as interpreter. To bothinterrogators the Pueblo shook his head in stolid negation. He would notserve in the desired capacity, and knew of no one else who would.
"It is a great pity he is so stubborn!" Coravel Tio gestured in despairas he turned to his vi
sitor. "I owe you thanks, Mr. Mackintavers, forgetting my wholesale department that order from the St. Louis dealer. Iam in your debt, and I shall be grateful if I can repay the obligation.In this case, alas, I am powerless!"
"Well, let it go." Mackintavers waved a large, square hand. He producedcigars, set one between his square white teeth, and handed the other toCoravel Tio. "You can repay me here and now. A man at Albuquerque sent atelegram to that Crump woman in your care. Where is she?"
"What is all this?" Coravel Tio was obviously astonished. "Senor, I am acurio dealer, no more! You surely do not refer to the kind-hearted Mrs.Crump?"
Mackintavers eyed him, chewing on his cigar. Then he nodded grimly.
"I do! Is she a particular friend of yours?"
"Certainly! Have I not known her these twenty years? I buy much fromher--bits of turquoise, queer Indian things, odd relics. Her mail oftencomes here, remaining until she calls for it. I am a curio dealer,senor, and in other matters I take no interest."
"Hm!" grunted Mackintavers. "Has she been here lately?"
"No, senor, not for three months--no, more than that! Mail comes, alsotelegrams."
"D'you know where she is?" demanded the other, savagely.
Dreamily reflective, Coravel Tio fastened his eyes upon the right ear ofMackintavers. That ear bore a half-healed scar, like a bullet-nick.Beneath that silent scrutiny the other man reddened uneasily.
"Let me see! My wife's second cousin, Estevan Baca, wrote me last weekthat he had met her in Las Vegas. Everyone knows her, senor. If I cansend any message for you----"
"No. Much obliged, all the same," grunted the other. "I'll probably beat the Aztec House for a few days. Let me know in case she comes totown, will you? I want to see her."
With exactly the proper degree of bland eagerness, Coravel Tio assentedto this, and Mackintavers departed heavily. The merchant accompanied himto the door and watched him stride up the narrow street, cursing theburros laden with mountain wood that blocked his way. Then, smiling atrifle oddly, the descendant of conquistadores returned to the waitingman from Cochiti pueblo.
"Do you know why that man wanted an interpreter?" he asked the Indian,in the latter's native tongue. The redskin grinned wisely and shook theblack hair from his eyes.
"Yes. But it is not a matter to discuss with Christians, my father."
Coravel Tio nodded carelessly. The question was closed. The Pueblo folkare, of course, very devoted converts to the Christian faith; yet thosewho know them intimately can testify that they sometimes have affairs,perhaps touching upon the queer stone idols of their fathers, which donot bear discussion with other Christians. They do not pray to the oldgods--perhaps--but they hold them in tremendous respect.
"You came to tell me something," prompted the curio dealer, gently.
The Indian assented with a nod. He leaned against one of the woodenpillars that supported the roof, and began to roll a cigarette while hetalked.
"Yesterday, my father, I was near the painted caves of the Colorado, andI stood above White Rock Canon looking down at the river. There on theother side of the water I saw the strangest thing in the world. I wenthome and told the governor of the pueblo what I had seen, and it was hiscommand that I come here and tell you also, for this is some queeraffair of the white people."
Coravel Tio said nothing at all. The Pueblo lighted his cigarette andcontinued:
"Upon the east side of the river and canon, not so well hidden that Icould not see it, was a camp, and in that camp were a white man and awhite woman. I have never before seen white folk able to reach thatplace, unless it were the Trail Runner who takes pictures of us andsells them to tourists. These were strangers to me. One was a very largewoman. The man was tall, but he acted very strangely. He acted as thoughGod had touched his brain. So did they both."
"In what way?" asked Coravel Tio, sharply.
"In every way, my father. The man wore no shoes, and the hot rocks hurthis feet so that he limped. I saw him spring on the woman, and theyfought. She beat him off and pointed a gun at him. Then he seemed to beweeping like a woman, and he grovelled before her. She threw somethingfar off on the stones, and I think it was glass that broke--a bottle,perhaps."
"Oh!" said Coravel Tio. "Oh! Perhaps it was."
"There were other strange actions," pursued the stolid red man. "I couldnot understand them----"
"No matter." Coravel Tio made a gesture as though dismissing thesubject. "Could you get to that camp from your pueblo?"
"Of course, by crossing the river, by swimming the water there. But thatmay be a hard thing to do, my father."
"Undoubtedly, but you will do it, and I will pay you well. There is apackage to give that woman. Wait."
Coravel Tio went to his little box of an office, seated himself at thedesk, and began to write in a fair, round hand. The epistle requiredneither superscription nor signature:
The burlap sack proved to contain some interesting contents. The two small sacks in the centre were even more interesting. The samples have been assayed with the following results:
Numbers one to five, quartzitic with bare traces of brittle silver ore; no good. Numbers six to fifteen, barytes, perhaps five dollars a ton; no good. Number sixteen is strontianite. This is converted into certain nitrates used in manufacture of fireworks and in beet sugar refining. Tremendously valuable and rare. This, senora, is enough.
I think that M. has scented those assays. He is asking for you, but I have made him look toward Las Vegas. To-morrow you will find two men at Domingo who wish work--they will be there until you arrive: Joe Gilbert and Alf Lewis. Meet me there also, please. I will take one-third interest in Number Sixteen as you suggest, and will furnish whatever money you desire on account. I enclose an advance sum.
I shall have articles of partnership ready. Suppose you meet me day after to-morrow, at Domingo. You must give me location, etc., in order to arrange details of filing, land and mineral right lease, etc. Be careful about the new explosives law, unless you already have a permit.
"Being a woman," reflected Coravel Tio, "she should know that the mostimportant thing in this letter is the very end of it."
He sealed the letter, placed it upon a thick sheaf of bank notes,wrapped the parcel in oiled silk and again in a small waterproof Navahosaddle blanket. This package he gave to the waiting redskin.
"It must go into the hands of that large woman, and no other," he said,gravely. "If you fail, there is trouble for all of us--and perhaps forthe gods of the San Marcos also!"
At these last words a flash of keen surprise sprang athwart the Indian'sface; then he took the package and turned to the doorway withoutresponse. Coravel Tio looked after him, and smiled gently.