“If my hombre did as you say,” he concluded, “he earned his death. My general would be the first to applaud it.” With a gesture that dismissed the killing lightly, as if it were that of a fly, he added: “So let us say no more of that. My wish is to serve you!”
Though again he did not understand the words, the grin that accompanied them in its offensive mixture of conceit and admiration sent the angry blood flooding Gordon’s face. He was standing behind Lee, and, hearing his quick breath, she put back her hand in a restraining gesture.
“Leave him to me,” she whispered. Then, looking the other straight in the eye, she gave him his answer. “You wish to serve me? Very well, señor, you may do so very easily—by removing yourself and your men off my place.”
For a moment he looked at her, the offensive grin wiped out by surprise. In turn, surprise gave way to sudden viciousness. “Si, señorita—after you have produced two hundred horses, which is your share of the new levy for equipment and supplies. Also”—another black flash went to Gordon—“it will be my duty to take this man to my general.”
“Perhaps I had better go,” Gordon whispered. “It may save you—”
Lee cut him off without looking around. “And shoot him the moment you get him outside the gates?” She quoted the Mexican law of “The escape.” “No, señor, I will be responsible for his safe-keeping and deliver him with my own hands at your general’s call.” She added, after a significant pause, “Along with the evidence of your own neglect in permitting your men to attack my people.”
For a moment he looked nonplussed. Now and then, for the sake of effect—especially upon meddlesome consuls—it was the fashion in the revolutionary armies to shoot a few men for just such offenses; and one could never be certain where the next lightning might strike. He blinked, tried to pass it with a shrug; but suppressed fury showed through his vicious look.
“Very well, señorita, the matter shall be left to my general. But the horses. These I must have at once.”
“Well, think you’ve got ’em, an’ let it go at that!”
While Jake muttered behind her, Lee stood thinking. Then out of her meditation flashed a sharp question: “Were you at the hacienda of the señor Benson last week?”