The Mesa Trail Page 5

  CHAPTER V--THE AMBITION OF MACKINTAVERS

  It is an established but peculiar trait of human nature, by which mostof us desire to be that which we are not, or to do that for which wehave no talent. I, who write, may aspire to be a great engineer; you,who read, may aspire to the study of the stars. We reach out toward thatwhich we may never grasp.

  Sandy Mackintavers was a wealthy and a powerful man; his hands weregripped hard in both the politics and the mining properties of thestate. Self-made and self-educated, he had accomplished a good job ofit. He had, of necessity, seen a good deal of those men who were everradiating out from Santa Fe; those men who, on behalf of manyuniversities and great museums, were ever delving amid the thousands ofpre-historic ruins which lay in and between the valleys of the Pecos andthe Rio Grande.

  Slowly, Sandy had discovered that these men were digging in the earthfor science, and that science and the world of letters honoured them. Hehad learned something of their "patter" and of the things they wereseeking; he had studied their work and methods and ideals, and he hadfound within himself the makings of a scientist. In short, he had formedthe stupendous ambition of becoming, at one fell stroke, a renownedethnologist!

  Do not smile. In the course of thirty years a man can pick up a greatmany divers things, and it was the way of Mackintavers to pick upeverything in sight. Sandy knew a great deal more than he appeared toknow. He had mining properties all over, and he was a silent partner ina chain of Mormon trading stores that ran north from the Mexican borderthrough three states. His sources of information were varied.

  Being unmarried and loving his ease when he was in the city,Mackintavers maintained a suite at the Aztec House. He had entertainedmany men in that place, some to their eternal sorrow. Never had heentertained a more distinguished visitor, however, than the Smithsonianprofessor with whom he was speaking on this Sunday morning--a scientistknown around the world, and a man of supreme authority in ethnologiccircles.

  "Now, professor," said Mackintavers, bluntly, "I ain't acollege-educated man, but I've knocked around this country for thirtyyear, and I know a few things. When I die, I aim to be remembered assomething more than a mining man, see?"

  The other, in puzzled suspense, nodded tacit understanding.

  "Now," pursued Sandy, chewing hard on a cigar, "if I had something togive the Smithsonian or some other museum, something that would be atenstrike for science, something that 'ud make every scientific shark inthe country water at the eyes for envy, what 'ud the Smithsonian do for_me_?"

  The professor cleared his throat and registered hesitation.

  "I--ah--I do not exactly apprehend your meaning, Mr. Mackintavers. Youdo not speak in a financial sense, I presume?"

  "Of course not. I tell you, I want to be known as a scientist! Man, I'vegot the biggest thing up my sleeve that you ever struck! Can yourmuseum, or any other, make me famous as a scientist? That is, if I turnover a regular tenstrike?"

  "Ah--that is exceedingly difficult to answer. A scientific reputation,Mr. Mackintavers, is founded upon solid bases, upon research ordiscoveries. If your--ah--contribution were a thing of such merit as yousay, it would undoubtedly be published far and wide. Your name,naturally, would be attached to it, according as your work justified."

  "In other words," amended Sandy, "if I turn over a complete job, I'd getfull credit and publicity?"

  "Yes."

  "That's what I want. I'm interested in this ethnology stuff, and I cando you sharks a whopping good turn. I want to get the credit, that'sall. Folks call me a hard-fisted old mining crab, and I want to show 'emthat I'm something more."

  "A highly laudable ambition, sir. You understand, however, that what toa lay mind might appear to be a most interesting ethnological fact, to ascientist might prove well known or insufficiently supported----"

  Mackintavers waved his square hand.

  "This thing is all assayed and fire tested, professor, and I'm no fool.May I give you an outline of it?"

  "If you care to, by all means do so!"

  "You know where the San Marcos pueblo is--away down south of Bonanza?"Mackintavers struck into his subject without further parley. "It wasabandoned about 1680 because of attacks from the Comanches, whodestroyed several pueblos down in that country. There's a tradition thatthe Injuns migrated west of the Rio Grande and settled the Cochiti andDomingo pueblos. Has that tradition ever been proved up?"

  The professor evinced an awakening interest.

  "No, sir. We know that the survivors of the Pecos pueblo went to Jimez,but the older migrations are hidden in the mists of time, unfortunately.Where the present Pueblos came from we do not know. The migrations----"

  "They won't be hid very long," said Mackintavers, complacently."Aiblins, now, we'll clear 'em up a bit, eh?"

  The only Scottish evidences which remained from Sandy's youth were anuncanny acquisitiveness and a habit of interjecting the word "aiblins"into the conversation at random. When Sandy used that word, it betrayedmental effort.

  "Some time ago," he resumed, "a man found seven stone idols in a bit ofthe adobe ruins at San Marcos. They had been walled up and buried alive,ye might say. The heavy rains last year, which took out some pieces ofthe adobe walls, washed 'em out. I've got 'em now, down to my ranch nearMagdalena."

  At this announcement the professor displayed mild disappointment. He hadbeen more than interested in Sandy's preamble, but this supposed climaxcaused him to shake his gray head regretfully.

  "My dear sir, these idols are of course very rare things, but notexceptionally so. I fail to see how they would give any proof ofmigration----"

  "Hold on; I ain't done yet! A drunken Injun from Cochiti seen thoseidols and spilled a good deal of information, calling them by name andso on. That is not evidence which would stand on a scientific basis, Ireckon. But if a Cochiti man could be made to talk, and if he was torecognize those idols first crack as his ancestral gods----"

  "And not be drunk at the time," interjected the other, smiling.

  "Sure. If he was to name 'em like old friends, and they correspondedwith the same idols from Cochiti which are in various museums--thenwouldn't all this go to show mighty plain that the migration theory wastrue?"

  Mackintavers leaned back, breathless and triumphant. The scientistnodded quickly.

  "Sir, this is an unusual and surprising proposal, but I cannot deny yourpremises. I do believe that such evidence would go a long way, could itbe secured. That, of course, is the doubtful point, for these red mencan very seldom be made to talk. However, you have an astoundingperception of ethnologic values in merely conceiving the scheme!"

  "Taken by and large, that's nothing but human nature. Well?"

  "If this proof could really be adduced, it would be epochal! Thepossibilities, sir, would be tremendous in their application!"

  "It ain't proved up yet," returned Sandy, drily, "but it will be. It maytake a bit of time gettin' things in shape--a week or so, maybe. Yeknow, professor, these Injuns are touchy about questions o' deity, andthey have to be handled wi' gloves. But I'll do it! A bag of silverdollars will loom mighty big to them. If ye care to be on hand when thetime comes, I'd be glad to have ye as a guest at my ranch----"

  In many ways the professor had an extended knowledge of New Mexico. Itis quite possible that he knew all about the playful habits of SandyMackintavers in regard to testimony along mining and mineral lines. So,while he did not restrain his enthusiasm over the ambition of his host,he made it plain that he certainly did wish to be on hand when thetestimony in this case was obtained.

  Mackintavers agreed readily, for in this instance he was more or lessresolved to play fair; and the interview ended.

  Scarcely had the scientist departed, than the door opened to admit anindividual of striking appearance. This gentleman was the satellite, theadherent, and field marshal, the _ame damnee_, of Mackintavers.

  Mormon progenitors had given him a stocky, massive front and splendidbuild, a steely eye and projecting lower jaw. A touch o
f Mexican bloodhad given him coarse black hair, a swart complexion, and sinister mentalattributes. He had much the appearance of a west-coast Irishman, withhis black hair and gray eyes, but there the resemblance ended. Such wasAbel Dorales, a man of reputation and education.

  "Well?" greeted Mackintavers, abruptly. "What's up now?"

  "Trouble," was the response. "Rodrigo Cota wants to see you. Also, I gota telegram from Ben Aimes, at Zacaton City, but haven't decoded it yet.I think it's about the Crump woman."

  "Then hurry it along," snapped Mackintavers. "Send Cota in here pronto."

  A moment later entered the room a nervous native, the same legislatorwho had briefly interviewed Coravel Tio regarding the moving of thecapital. Mr. Cota stood mopping his brow and glancing around.

  "Well, Cota?" exploded Sandy, transfixing him with frowning gaze."What's the matter now? Need more money to swing it?"

  "Senor," blurted the legislator in desperation, "it cannot be swung!"

  "Oh! And why not, Mr. Cota?"

  "I do not know. Three weeks ago we had a clear majority. The measure wasto be presented to-morrow--but our men have gone to pieces!"

  "Do they want more money?" snapped Sandy, savagely.

  The native shrugged. "I have done my best! It is a question of thepeople. In some way, I know not how, word has been spread abroad thatthe capital is to be changed. Our people are furious. Our natives, sir,have sentiment about this----"

  "Sentiment, hell!" snarled Mackintavers, as his fist crashed down. "Itell ye, it's goin' to be done! Ain't there plenty in it for all, yefool? Ain't new state buildings got to be built at Albuquerque?Ain't----"

  "Senor, it is no question of money; it cannot be done! I myself dare notpropose this bill without voting for it; and I cannot vote for it."

  "Why not?" The face of Mackintavers was purpled, seething with furiouspassions. Livid, the native glared back at him.

  "Because I am afraid for my life."

  Mackintavers leaped to his feet in a whirlwind of rage at what heconsidered a palpable lie. The native shrank back, but doggedly, asthough a greater fear were beside him than any fear of this politicalmaster of his.

  At this instant the door opened and Abel Dorales appeared. He made aslight gesture, a gesture of command, of authority. The empurpledcountenance of Mackintavers composed itself by a mighty effort.

  "Very well, Mr. Cota," he said, thickly. "Let the bill pass over forthis time, since I got more important business on hand than chasing downyou native senators. But let me tell you this: When it comes up again,there'll be no more talk like you've just handed out--or I'll know thereason why. Get out!"

  Cota took his hat and left, thankfully. Dorales closed the door, while aflood of oaths burst from the lips of Mackintavers. With extended hand,Dorales checked the flood.

  "Never mind that, Sandy," he said, calmly. "We'll probably find laterthat the railroad is double-crossing us. There's no rush--we can get tothe bottom of it in time. The more important affair is this of the Crumpwoman, so far as money goes. There's a bigger fortune in this mine thanin any political game!"

  Uncouth bear that he was, Mackintavers could be swayed by this morepolished tongue; he knew this tongue was devoted absolutely to his owninterests, and he forced himself to accept the dictum of Dorales at themoment.

  "Well?" he growled. "Ye don't mean to say she's down at Zacaton?"

  "The wire was from your store manager there, Aimes. He said merely thathe had smashed the Crump outfit flat, and that I had better get there ina hurry to take charge of things."

  "Aiblins, yes!" The thin lips of Sandy curled back. "We hadn't lookedfor such quick action, Abel. That Aimes is a good man! I s'pose thisnews don't grieve ye none, after what the lady done to you. How's yourhead?"

  A fleeting contraction passed across the face of Dorales. His eyesnarrowed to thin slits. His nose quivered like the nose of a dogsniffing game.

  "Thank you, it's quite well," his voice was low and cruel. "If you thinkbest, I shall go down there immediately."

  Mackintavers crammed a cigar between his teeth and chewed at it for amoment.

  "Aiblins, yes," he mused aloud. "Somebody has blocked us on thismoving-the-capital bill. I won't get hold of the skunk right away,neither; we might's well call it off until the next session.

  "Tell ye what, Abel! I'm fixing to spend a while at my ranch, so I'll gosouth with ye. I'll need ye mighty bad to get that business of the Injungods moving along, because I got my heart set on doin' that up brown.But as ye say, this mine means millions--the biggest strike in the statein a long time. The assayer was positive it was strontianite and notmerely barytes?"

  "Dead certain," assented Dorales.

  "Well, it won't be such a long job; I'll be at the ranch where ye canreach me quick. We'll have to find out what Aimes has done, then makeplans and go ahead. If there's one thing that the Lord gave me abilityto do, it was to handle mining deals!"

  "With a cold deck," added Dorales. "Very well. If we go by auto, we cansave a good deal of time."

  Mackintavers grimaced. "I ain't built for long trips, but go ahead. Getthe big car, Abel. Want to run her yourself? All right. Land me at theranch, then go on to Zacaton City with the ranch flivver, unless ye wantthe big car."

  "The flivver is the thing down there."

  "Aiblins, yes. And mind! What we got to do is to get that Crump femaleclear off'n her location; that's all. Aimes has evidently found somemeans of gettin' her arrested. We can take that for granted. By the timeyou get there, she'll be in the calaboose.

  "You telephone me at the ranch with a full account of what's happened,and I'll have a scheme ready for ye. The main thing is to get possessionof the property; maybe we can frame a deal on this fellow Shea--it's allheld in his name, ain't it? That was a foxy move, but not foxy enough tofool us long! Get possession, Abel, and the law will do the rest forus."

  "It ought to!" Dorales showed white and even teeth as he smiled.

  Mackintavers met those steely eyes beneath their strangely black brows,and his square mouth unfolded in a grin.

  "Get possession, that's all!" he uttered.

  "Consider it done, Sandy. If you'll be ready in an hour, I'll be aroundwith the car."