VIII El Capitan

Stillwell’s interest in the revolution across the Mexican line had manifestly increased with the news that Gene Stewart had achieved distinction with the rebel forces.  Thereafter the old cattleman sent for El Paso and Douglas newspapers, wrote to ranchmen he knew on the big bend of the Rio Grande, and he would talk indefinitely to any one who would listen to him.  There was not any possibility of Stillwell’s friends at the ranch forgetting his favorite cowboy.  Stillwell always prefaced his eulogy with an apologetic statement that Stewart had gone to the bad.  Madeline liked to listen to him, though she was not always sure which news was authentic and which imagination.

There appeared to be no doubt, however, that the cowboy had performed some daring feats for the rebels.  Madeline found his name mentioned in several of the border papers.  When the rebels under Madero stormed and captured the city of Juarez, Stewart did fighting that won him the name of El Capitan.  This battle apparently ended the revolution.  The capitulation of President Diaz followed shortly, and there was a feeling of relief among ranchers on the border from Texas to California.  Nothing more was heard of Gene Stewart until April, when a report reached Stillwell that the cowboy had arrived in El Cajon, evidently hunting trouble.  The old cattleman saddled a horse and started post-haste for town.  In two days he returned, depressed in spirit.  Madeline happened to be present when Stillwell talked to Alfred.

“I got there too late, Al,” said the cattleman.  “Gene was gone.  An’ what do you think of this?  Danny Mains hed jest left with a couple of burros packed.  I couldn’t find what way he went, but I’m bettin’ he hit the Peloncillo trail.”

“Danny will show up some day,” replied Alfred.  “What did you learn about Stewart?  Maybe he left with Danny.”

“Not much,” said Stillwell, shortly.  “Gene’s hell-bent fer election!  No mountains fer him.”

“Well tell us about him.”

Stillwell wiped his sweaty brow and squared himself to talk.

“Wal, it’s sure amazin’ strange about Gene.  Its got me locoed.  He arrived in El Cajon a week or so ago.  He was trained down like as if he’d been ridin’ the range all winter.  He hed plenty of money—­Mex, they said.  An’ all the Greasers was crazy about him.  Called him El Capitan.  He got drunk an’ went roarin’ round fer Pat Hawe.  You remember that Greaser who was plugged last October—­the night Miss Majesty arrived?  Wal, he’s daid.  He’s daid, an’ people says thet Pat is a-goin’ to lay thet killin’ onto Gene.  I reckon thet’s jest talk, though Pat is mean enough to do it, if he hed the nerve.  Anyway, if he was in El Cajon he kept mighty much to hisself.  Gene walked up an’ down, up an’ down, all day an’ night, lookin’ fer Pat.  But he didn’t find him.  An’, of course, he kept gettin’ drunker.  He jest