In the open sandy space leading to the houses near the river Adam met Arallanes. The usually genial foreman appeared pale, somber, sick. To Adam’s surprise, Arallanes would not talk about the hanging. Adam had another significant estimate of the character of Collishaw. Arallanes, however, was not so close lipped concerning Guerd Larey.
“Quien sabe, señor?” he concluded. “Maybe it’s best for you. Margarita is a she-cat. You are my friend. I should tell you.... But, well, señor, if you would keep Margarita, look out for your brother.”
Adam gaped his astonishment and had not a word for Arallanes as he turned away. It took him some time to realize the content of Arallanes warning and advice. But what fixed itself in Adam’s mind was the fact that Guerd had run across Margarita and had been attracted by her. How perfectly natural! How absolutely inevitable! Adam could not remember any girl he had ever admired or liked in all his life that Guerd had not taken away from him. Among the boys at home it used to be a huge joke, in which Adam had good-naturedly shared. All for Guerd! Adam could recall the time when he had been happy to give up anything or anyone to his brother. But out here in the desert, where he was beginning to assimilate the meaning of a man’s fight for his life and his possessions, he felt vastly different. Moreover, he had gone too far with Margarita, regretable as the fact was. She belonged to him, and his principles were such that he believed he owed her a like return of affection, and besides that, loyalty and guardianship. Margarita was only seventeen years old. No doubt Guerd would fascinate her if she was not kept out of his way.
“But—suppose she likes Guerd—and wants him—as she wanted me?” muttered Adam, answering a divining flash of the inevitable order of things to be. Still, he repudiated that. His intellect told him what to expect, but his feeling was too strong to harbor doubt of Margarita. Only last night she had changed the world for him—opened his eyes to life not as it was dreamed, but lived!
Adam found the wife of Arallanes home alone.
“Señora, where is Margarita?”
“Margarita is there,” she replied, with dark, eloquent glance upon Adam and a slow gesture toward the river bank.
Adam soon espied Guerd and Margarita on the river bank some few rods below the landing place. Here was a pretty sandy nook, shaded by a large mesquite, and somewhat out of sight of passers-by going to and fro from village to dock. Two enormous wheels connected by an iron bar, a piece of discarded mill machinery, stood in the shade of the tree. Margarita sat on the cross-bar and Guerd stood beside her. They were close together, facing a broad sweep of the river and the wonderland of colored peaks beyond. They did not hear Adam’s approach on the soft sand.
“Señorita, one look from your midnight eyes and I fell in love with you,” Guerd was declaring, with gay passion, and his hand upon her was as bold as his speech. “You little Spanish princess!... Beautiful as the moon and stars!... Hidden in this mining camp, a desert flower born to blush unseen! I shall——”
It was here that Adam walked around the high wheels to confront them. For him the moment was exceedingly poignant. But despite the tumult within him he preserved a cool and quiet exterior. Margarita’s radiance vanished in surprise.