Now Johnny had been telling himself what a godsend some new face would
be to him, yet he did not rush out to welcome the callers and ask the
news of the outside world which Cliff was so chary of giving. He did
not by any sound or movement declare his presence. He simply craned
and listened.
One of the men he could not see because of a great, overhanging limb
that barred his vision. The other happened to stop just opposite a
very good peephole through the leaves. The kiddies were standing back
shyly, patently interrupted in their pretended play of trundling the
wheelbarrow and dragging the stick horses over the yard. Rosa, the
thin-legged girl, stood shyly back with her finger in her mouth, in
plain sight of Johnny, though she could not see him in the deep shadow
of the leaves.
It was the man that interested Johnny, however. He was a soldier,
probably one of the border patrol. He sat his horse easily, erect in
the saddle, straight-limbed and alert, with lean hard jaw and a gray
eye that kept glancing here, there, everywhere while the other talked.
It was only a profile view that Johnny saw, but he did not need a look
at the rest of his face with the other gray eye to be uncomfortably
convinced that not much would escape him.
"It circled and seemed to come down somewhere on this side the Potreros
and it has not been seen since. Ask the kids if they saw something
that looked like a big bird flying." This from the unseen one, who had
raised his voice as impatience seized him. These Mexicans were so
slow-witted!
Johnny heard Mateo's voice, speaking at length. He saw Rosa take her
finger from her mouth, catch up a corner of her ragged, apron and twist
it in an agony of confusion, and then as if suddenly comprehending what
it was these senores wished to know, she pointed jerkily toward the
north. Perhaps the others also pointed to the north, for the
lean-jawed soldier tilted his head backward and stared up that way, and
Mateo spoke in very fair English.
"The kids, she's see. No, I dunno. I'm busy I don' make attenshions.
I'm fine out when--"
"We know when," the efficient looking soldier interrupted. "You keep
watch. If you see it fly back, see just where it comes from and where
it goes, and ride like hell down to camp and tell us. You will get
more money than you can make here in a year. You sabe that?"
"Yo se, senor--me, I'm onderstan'."
"You know where our camp is?"
"Si, senor capitan. Me, I'm go lak hell."
"Well, there's nothing more to be got here. Let's get along." And as
they moved off Johnny caught a fragmentary phrase "from Riverside."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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