James Chase - Miss Shumway Waves a Wand

“Another uprising,” I said in disgust. “Can’t these guys keep the peace for five minutes? A bunch of bandits swooped on some Federal troops and cut their heads off. Federal troops are on their way from the capital to deal with them. I’ve got to get over there and give a report on the battle. It may last a week.” “You can’t do that,” Ansell protested. “I’ve fixed everything with Quintl. If we don’t loose Myra on him now, we’ll never do it.”

I thought for a moment. He was right. But, on the other hand, I’d got to look after the Recorder . The great American public would want to hear more about these Federal soldiers who had had their heads cut off. You don’t read about a little thing like that every day.

“Well, I’m sorry,” I said. “But you’ll have to do this without me. It’s simple enough and I think I ought to be through in a few days. I’ll meet you at Pepoztlan. Get Myra to see this Quintl and then wait at the inn for me. Okay?”

Myra said, “So you’re going to walk out on me after all?”

“Now, don’t make it difficult,” I pleaded. “You’ll do fine. I know you will.” I put my hand on hers, “And wait for me, kid, I want to see you again.”

“If you ain’t in a hurry, I’ll get out and heave up,” Bogle said, grimacing in disgust. “This sloppy talk gives me a pain.”

That seemed to settle it. Myra, her face hardening, started the Cadillac. “Okay,” she said.

“Run after your stupid little revolution. Do you think I care?” and she drove away fast, leaving a cloud of dust behind her.

That was that.

As I might have expected, the Federal troops made a mess of it. When they got to the place where their comrades had been decapitated there was no sign of the bandits and no sign of any bodies. I wasted a couple of days riding around with them, and then they got sick of it and gave up. All I got out of it was a photograph of the place and a dreary report of the unsuccessful hunt. I sent those off, said good-bye to the Captain of the troop who seemed glad to see me go and rode over to Pepoztlan as fast as I could go.

Pepoztlan was a tiny village on the mountain side. The main road had been hewn out of the mountain itself and the few houses of pink stone overlooked the exposed plateau beyond which lay the Indian settlement.

I found Ansell and Bogle resting in the shade at the inn. It wasn’t much of a place, but the wine was good and they did manage to carve up an occasional chicken. I’d been there before, so I knew more or less what I was in for.

I arrived on Saturday afternoon. Since Myra was to see Quintl on the previous Thursday, I thought the whole thing had been settled. My next immediate job was to get in touch with Bastino and fix the kidnapping.

It came as a surprise when I rode into the patio to find only Ansell and Bogle there.

I slid off my horse, tossed the reins to an Indian and went over to them.

“Where’s Myra?” I asked and I admit I felt anxious.

Both Ansell and Bogle looked a little sheepish. It was Ansell who did the talking. “She’s still there,” he said. “Sit down and have a drink.”

“Yeah, this is real tiger’s breath,” Bogle said, filling a horn mug and shoving it into my hand.

“What do you mean… she’s still there?”

“She’s made a hit with Quintl,” Ansell said uneasily. “They wanted her to stay.”

I looked from one to the other, “I don’t get it. How long do you think she’s going to stay there?”

Bogle took off his hat and scratched his head, “Brother,” he said, “them Indians scared the pants off me. I didn’t want to argue with them.”

“Quiet, Bogle,” Ansell said sharply. “Let me explain.”

“You’d better,” I said, feeling mad. “What the hell’s been happening?”

“The truth is, she overdid it!’ Ansell said. “I warned her, but she kept pulling tricks and I guess the Indians fell for her. They think she’s a reincarnated goddess.”

“So what?”

“They won’t let her go,” Ansell said miserably. “We tried to get her away, but they got nasty about it.”

“Knives,” Bogle said, with a little shiver. “Great big knives as long as my arm. I tell you, Bud, they scared me.”

“So you left her, eh?” I said, feeling blood pounding in my ears. “That was a swell thing to do. What sort of men are you—you yellow-gutted monkeys!”

Ansell mopped his face with his handkerchief. “I was waiting for you to come and then I thought we’d turn out the Federal troops,” he explained.

“They’ll take a month to get going,” I said angrily. “I thought you knew this Indian. Why didn’t you tell me you couldn’t trust him?”

“It’s not that,” Ansell said quickly. “I’d trust him with my life. It was her fault. You ought to have seen the tricks she did. They were remarkable. I’ve never seen…”

I got to my feet. “We’re getting guns and we’re going right over there and we’ll bring her back. Do you get it?”

Bogle’s eyes popped. “Just the three of us?” he said faintly.

“Just the three of us,” I returned. “Get horses, while I get the guns.”

“You heard what I said about the knives?” Bogle said. “Great big stickers, as long as my arm.”

“I heard,” I returned. “We got this girl into the mess. We’ll get her out of it.”

I left them and dug out the innkeeper. “What have you got in the way of guns, pal?” I asked, after we had shaken hands and patted each other.

“Guns?” His little eyes widened, then seeing my look, he grinned. “More trouble, senor?” he said. “Always trouble with the white senor.”

“Slow up on the chatter and give me some action,” I said shoving him towards the house.

I got action and I got three express rifles and three .38 automatics.

By the time I got back the other two had found horses. I gave than a gun and automatic each and then climbed on to my horse.

“You wouldn’t like to put it off until to-morrow?” Ansell said hopefully. “It’s going to be hot on the plateau right now.”

“It’ll be hot all right,” I said and rode out of the patio. The way to the Indian settlement lay across the exposed plateau which was broken only by patches of forest. There was hardly any shade.

After an hour of heat and flies we came to the Indian village. The sordid settlement shocked me. There were six mud huts, thatched with banana leaves. They stood forlornly in the bright sunlight and the whole place seemed deserted.

I jerked my horse to a standstill and sat staring at the huts. Doc and Bogle came up and halted their animals by my side.

“Is this it?” I said. “Are you sure this is the place?”

“Yeah,” Bogle said, wrinkling his nose. “Not like Palm Beach, is it?” He rested his arms on the saddle and leaned forward. “Not the kind of glamour parlour Goldiocks is used to.”

“Button up!” I said, feeling furious with Ansell for even bringing Myra to such a dump, let alone leaving her here. If I’d gone with them, we wouldn’t have gone through with it.

Ansell slid off his horse and walked slowly down the beaten path between the huts. Neither

Bogle nor I moved. We sat, with our rifles forward, watching him.

“No one about,” Ansell said, coming back. “Maybe they’re hunting or something.”

In spite of the heat, I suddenly felt my flesh creep, as if a cold hand had touched me.

“You’d better find her,” I said quietly.

“Quintl’s got a place further in the forest,” Ansell said, urging his horse forward.

We followed him.

At the edge of the forest, amid scrub and stones, stood a solid little building made of grey rock.

“This is it,” Ansell said, dismounting.