Chapter Text
Socorro, Texas, Sunday, February 6th, 1881
Hannibal Heyes, accompanied by his partner Kid Curry and Miss Paula Wellington, whom he could have described as his fiancée were it not for the fact that they were only promised rather than being formally betrothed, rode down the main street of the little town of Socorro, Texas.[1] At one time, the town had been on the Mexican side of the Rio Grande, but when the river changed course, as Ernesto Armendáriz had described to Heyes and Curry on the occasion of their second visit to his rancho, it had been left on the American side.
Heyes looked about him with interest. They had been riding through grazing land belonging to Big Mac McCreedy since the middle of the previous day, but had never approached the headquarters of the McCreedy Ranch, located just outside the town of Red Rock to the north, from this direction before, so he and Curry had never been through Socorro, though Armendáriz had told them of it. They were aware that Big Mac McCreedy and his wife Carlota had, since their marriage, formed the habit of attending the Indian mission in the town—the closest place to the McCreedy Ranch for them to attend Catholic services.
As it was Sunday, just a little before noon, Heyes wondered if they ought to stop at the church to see if the couple was there or was expected. He had just finished explaining this to Kid and Paula when the bell over the main entrance to the little church began to ring.
La Purísima Concepción del Socorro
“That will be the bell for Mass,” said Paula. “I suppose it makes sense that they would celebrate it at noon. People must come here from all over the area—not just your friends the McCreedys, but families from Mexico, and possibly other Anglo families as well.” Rather wistfully, she refrained from asking Heyes if they could stop and attend, knowing he and Kid would not be able to follow the Latin used in the service and that none of them would be able to receive Communion, not being Catholic.
Suddenly the matter was decided for her. Kid exclaimed and pointed to an elegant buggy just drawing up near the church, from which Patrick J. McCreedy himself, in all his considerable bulk, was just preparing to descend.
Heyes and Kid swung down and helped the two women in the buggy, whom they had recognized as Carlota Armendáriz and Teresa, her personal maid, to alight. Shaking hands with McCreedy, Heyes brought Paula into the conversation with a gesture. “Paula, this is Patrick McCreedy. Mac—my fiancée, Miss Wellington.”
Managing to conceal his astonishment at this announcement, and bowing with a portly grace over Miss Wellington’s hand, McCreedy turned to his wife. “Carlota, may I present Miss Paula Wellington, who, I’m delighted to learn, is going to marry my young friend Joshua Smith. You remember Joshua and Thaddeus, my dear.”
“Of course,” the lady responded graciously. She found that Mr. Smith’s young woman was acknowledging the introduction with a very slight curtsey, an unexpected but welcome formality in this regrettably informal part of America.
“Es un gusto conocerle, Señora.”
Pleased at the use of her own tongue, Carlota curtseyed in return. “Señorita, el gusto es mío.” She quickly performed the introduction between Miss Wellington and Teresa, then turned with a smile to Heyes. “Mr. Smith, I fear if we stand here much longer and talk, my husband and I will be late to the Mass. Would you care to accompany us, you and your lady and Mr. Jones? We can continue the conversation afterwards.”
Still trying to think of a polite way to refuse, Heyes was startled to hear his partner thanking Mrs. McCreedy for the invitation and accepting it for all of them. Shrugging inwardly, Heyes helped to tie the horses to the hitch rail, offered his arm to Paula, removed his hat, and entered the dim interior of the church in the wake of Kid and the McCreedy party.
Following the celebration of Mass, everyone poured out into the small plaza attached to the church, where it was the custom of the congregation to set out tables and benches so that everyone could enjoy a light merienda before starting on the drive home. The tiny town boasted no eating place except a small cantina, unfit for ladies to enter, so most families brought food with them to share after the service. Carlota McCreedy extended an invitation to Miss Wellington and her escort to join them. Heyes and Curry contributed some of their own supplies, and the party sat down together to eat.
“What are you doing in this part of Texas, besides getting betrothed?” asked McCreedy.
“Well, Joshua’s the only one doing that right now,” replied Kid, “but we took a job, last fall, escorting Miss Wellington and her brother down to Laredo from Denver with some valuables. Since the end of November, we’ve been working with the Texas Ranger detachment in Laredo.” He delivered this announcement coolly, without any inflection, and observed with amusement its effect on McCreedy, who was well aware that they were wanted in Wyoming for bank and train robbery.
Heyes met McCreedy’s inquiring stare with a cheerful smile. “That’s right. Mr. Wellington introduced us to Captain Parmalee, the commandant of Company B, who gave us temporary jobs. Of course, he checked our references first —wired to our friend Sheriff Trevors in Wyoming.” He waited to see what impact this news would have. They had never had occasion to tell McCreedy about Governor Hoyt’s offer of an amnesty, so the introduction of a Wyoming sheriff into the conversation was bound to puzzle McCreedy further.
Unable to ask for enlightenment in the presence of his wife, who was ignorant of the outlaws’ real names, McCreedy absorbed the additional information with a poker face that was the equal of Kid Curry’s.
His wife, sensing the social awkwardness, filled the gap with the grace habitual to her. “So you have not known Mr. Smith very long, Señorita?”
“That’s right. We only met at the beginning of November, when my brother hired these gentlemen to escort us. They had helped to foil a robbery attempt just as we left the bank in Denver with the money we were to carry, so my brother thought it would be as well to take them on for the duration of the journey. We became much better acquainted during the months they remained in Laredo, and now Joshua and I have exchanged promises to wed. They’re escorting me home to our ranch in northern Colorado whilst my brother remains in Laredo for another few weeks.”
“We were actually coming to see you,” added Heyes to McCreedy, “because Paula has a problem that she hopes Mrs. McCreedy will advise her on. We can’t really talk about it here.”
“Now you’ve got me curious,” replied McCreedy genially. “If you’ll ride with us, we’re going home now. Should be there in about two and a half hours.”
“We can entertain you to supper,” said Carlota, “and certainly we will give you lodging for the night. May we hope that you will honour us by remaining as our guests for a few days at least, so that you may rest yourselves and your horses before continuing your journey?”
“That’s very kind of you, Señora,” responded Paula. “We shall accept with pleasure; that is,” she added, with a quick glance at Heyes, “if it suits our plans.”
“Oh, yeah, sure.” Heyes turned to McCreedy. “In fact, I need to get Paula a ring, and I could use your advice about a good jeweller in El Paso.”
“I know of one, yes.” McCreedy assisted his wife and her maid to pack up the remains of the lunch and loaded the things into the buggy. “I’ll go with you and show you, so we can make sure you find what you want, while the ladies stay at the ranch and get acquainted.”
Heyes grinned. “Thanks, I hoped you say that.”
*** *** ***
Declining the offer of a seat in the buggy, Paula nevertheless availed herself of the opportunity to ride close to the right-hand side of it, more convenient since she had curled her leg over her saddle horn in a makeshift side-saddle seat so as not to offend the ladies at the chuch, in order to continue conversing with Carlota, while Heyes and Kid rode on the left side and talked with McCreedy. From scraps of talk that she could hear, she deduced that Heyes and Kid were telling McCreedy about some of their adventures as Texas Rangers. Meanwhile, taking advantage of her ability to speak Spanish fluently while none of the men did so, she began to tell Carlota about the bandits robbing churches in Coahuila, and the request of Padre Esteban in Allende that she should take the church plate to a place of safety.
It turned out that Carlota had visited the Villa de San Juan de Mata on her way back to her brother’s ranch from a sojourn in Mexico City. “It is indeed a beautiful, historic church, though the mission that you saw today is older; it was founded in 1682, and some of the original roof beams were used when the church was rebuilt in 1843. And it is a terrible thing that these bandits are doing, robbing the churches on purpose. I am so glad that you were able to bring the gold vessels away with you, to keep them safe.”
“I also am glad—I was happy to do what I could—but it almost happened that they were not safe after all.” Paula described the attack by the bandits who had followed her across the border. “So you see, if it had not been for Joshua and Thaddeus, things might have gone very badly. Joshua told me about you,” she continued, “and suggested that we ask if you could help us.”
“Yes, certainly. I could take the things, and then take them to my brother’s rancho when I go there to visit. They will be quite safe, both here at our home in Red Rock, and at Rancho Armendáriz. My brother employs over two hundred armed men.” Carlota paused, thinking. “You must tell me as much as you are able about the bandits, and what Padre Esteban told you about what they have been doing. When I tell my brother, he will do something to stop them. In any case, I will undertake to keep the vessels, and to return them to the church in Allende with my own hands as soon as it is safe to do so. You must give me a letter for the priest. My brother will provide me with an escort to go there.”
“That is most kind of you, Señora. I admit that I hoped you would say something of the kind. And I hope that Señor Armendáriz can find it in his heart to help those poor people in Coahuila. I am very, very grateful!” Spanish was a beautiful language, reflected Paula, allowing one to express oneself in a rather fulsome manner without sounding insincere, as would be the case in English.
*** *** ***
After supper that evening at the McCreedy ranch, everyone retired to the back parlor to continue their conversation. Carlota withdrew a beautiful piece of cream-colored silk from the drawer of a side table, collected her embroidery basket, and sat down to work. McCreedy, looking at Heyes and Curry thoughtfully, extracted a deck of cards from another drawer and suggested a game of poker.
“With only three of us?” Heyes shook his head. “Unless we can get one or both of the ladies to join us, or your foreman, or someone, it wouldn’t work. We really need at least four players. And it would have to be just a friendly game.” He looked McCreedy in the eye, daring him to say something about that. “Thaddeus and I don’t have enough cash to spare right now to play for high stakes, and I have to buy that ring tomorrow.”
McCreedy refused the challenge. He knew better now than to try to outwit the two outlaws or win large sums of money from them by the use of some trick. Over the year or so he had known them, he had finally learned to respect them as his intellectual equals. Hannibal Heyes played poker as well or better than he did, and was capable of matching or exceeding any devious method employed to separate him and his partner from their money. If they played, it would have to be, as Heyes suggested, a mere friendly game for parlor stakes.
He turned to the ladies. “My wife doesn’t play. Do you, Miss Wellington?”
“I play well enough, I believe, to give you a game, but I’m only just learning. I’m better at draw poker, but if you wish to play stud, I could still make your fourth player, I expect. Unless you would rather play whist?” Paula refrained from mentioning that Heyes and the Kid had been teaching her the rudiments of both common varieties of poker for a couple of hours every evening, during the eight days it had taken them to ride from Carrizo Springs, so that she could be ready for just this eventuality, which Heyes had anticipated.
“No, you have me there, ma’am. I haven’t played whist in years. I’m not sure I could hold up my end of the game. We can play a hand or two of draw, for whatever stakes you suggest.”
She glanced at Heyes. “Weren’t you telling me, my dear, about playing poker for pennies with the president of a railroad, with each penny representing a hundred dollars? Would that suit everyone?” She looked from one man to another. “That would ensure we are playing the game for the enjoyment of the skill required, rather than for any financial consideration.”
“You played poker with the president of a railroad?” McCreedy almost choked.
“Well, we were on a train with him, and he was short of players,” explained Kid. “We didn’t really feel we could turn down the invitation. As Miss Wellington says, he insisted on playing for pennies.”
“Excuse me just one moment. I must get something from my saddlebags.” Paula left the room, going to the spacious bedchamber that had been allotted to her. In a few moments she was back, with a small package in her hands. “Mr. McCreedy, before we sit down to play, I have a present for you. I suppose one could term it a hospitality gift.” She extended the package. “It’s the Tenth Edition, revised, copyright 1880, and I believe you’ll find the relevant pages are marked with ribbons.”
Heyes exchanged a glance with his partner, eyebrows raised. He had no idea what Paula was up to, giving McCreedy a hospitality gift—this was a complete surprise.
From Miss Wellington’s reference to the Tenth Edition, Patrick McCreedy had a good idea of what he would find when he opened the package. Sure enough, the removal of the wrapping paper disclosed a small volume bound in red leather, with the words The Modern Pocket Hoyle stamped on the spine and front cover. Inside the front cover, the further information appeared that the book had been published by Dick & Fitzgerald, New York, 1880. Two ribbons protruded from the top.
Opening the book to the first marker, in the preface, McCreedy read the text quickly, and then passed the open book to Heyes. “Joshua, I think you should have the privilege of reading this aloud.”
Heyes accepted the book, scanned the page, and quickly found the paragraph he wanted.[2]
In this, the Tenth Edition, it has been found necessary to re-write the entire games of Poker, Cassino, and some others; the two first-named, Cassino and Poker, have been greatly modified during the past few years, and are now presented correct in all their latest details. On the Mississippi River, and west of it, the common practice at the present day is to allow straights to be played in all games of poker without the formality of declaring the same before the commencement of the game.
Glancing at his host, Heyes then turned to the second ribbon, between pages 150 and 151. He looked up. “This deals with the ranking of the hands in poker.”
Straights are not always played ; it should therefore be determined whether they are to be admitted at the commencement of the game; however, see the Preface as to whether straights are to be played without formal determination, this practice varying by geographical region.
“That seems clear enough.” He raised an eyebrow at McCreedy, then favored Paula with a quick smile intended for her alone.
“Yes, it does.” McCreedy wondered just what Heyes had told his lady that had decided her upon purchasing the book. “We’ll assume, then, that straights and flushes are admissible in any game we play tonight.”[3]
Heyes couldn’t stand it. “Paula, where’d you find this? I know there wasn’t any place to buy books in Carrizo Springs, or any of the towns we passed through on the way here. At least, I sure didn’t see any. Del Rio, Osborne[4], and Van Horn all seemed to be pretty small.”
She smiled back at him, warmly enough to cause him to blush. “I got it in Laredo before Christmas. One of the general stores there had just received an entire box of this 1880 edition.”
Of course, that doesn’t explain why she thought she might need it, thought Heyes. That was before I proposed to her, and long before I suggested coming this way to visit Mac. He suddenly had a thought which made him blush a second time. That could mean that she was thinking of looking out for my interests way back in November, when I first told her and Wellington what McCreedy did to us. I wish I’d known, that’s all. He exchanged another glance with his partner. Of course Kid would be likely to tell him that he should have known all along, that Miss Wellington’s interest had been obvious, if he’d been looking.
Kid had been watching the byplay with well-concealed amusement, his face betraying no more than a courteous interest in the proceedings, but he also had wondered why Miss Wellington had purchased the copy of Hoyle as early as last year. Perhaps she had just wanted to verify for herself what he and Heyes had told her.
The four of them sat down to play a couple of hands of what Heyes supposed would have to be called parlor poker. He watched Miss Wellington surreptitiously—this would be her first real opportunity to put his lessons into practice. Without the need to wonder whether McCreedy would try to cheat them, Heyes was able to relax and enjoy the game, winning several hands. Mac and I are obviously the two best players, but Kid’s doing well, as usual, and Paula’s managing better than I expected.
Carlota continued to work on her embroidery while watching her husband enjoy himself along with their guests. She had not missed the slight tension surrounding the presentation of The Modern Pocket Hoyle; privately, she resolved to discuss the matter with Miss Wellington on the following day, when she understood that the men were to ride to El Paso. At half past nine, she rose quietly and left the room to make arrangements for tea, coffee, wine, and a light meal to be brought to the parlor.
When McCreedy saw the tray of food and drink being brought in, he brought the game to a close so that he could join his wife in what had become a regular evening ritual. “We’re riding up to El Paso in the morning, then?” He looked from one to the other of his guests.
“I’ll come with you,” said Heyes. “Paula will stay here, of course—it wouldn’t be right to take her along to choose the promise ring. And K—Thaddeus thought he’d better stay here as well.”
“Oh? Why’s that?”
Kid hesitated, not knowing how much he should say in front of Mrs. McCreedy. “Well, Mac, the last time I was in El Paso—it’d be over a year ago now—seemed like the marshal kind of took a dislike to me. It’d be better to stay out of his way.”
McCreedy frowned. He knew what Curry meant—that he was afraid the marshal would recognize him. “If it was over a year ago,” he suggested, “things should be O.K., because the man who was there for the past three years, Marshal Slater, is gone now. He left and went to California. The new man’s name is Moore—Jeremy Moore. Know him?”
“No, I don’t think I do,” replied Kid. He smiled. “Guess I’ll be goin’ with you after all, then.”
“Good,” said Heyes. He didn’t recognize the new marshal’s name either. “That’ll give the ladies a chance to get better acquainted without us hanging around and distracting them.” He smiled at Paula, making her blush this time.
El Paso, Texas, Monday, February 7th
By ‘riding,’ Heyes realized, Big Mac McCreedy had meant that they would ride while he drove his light buggy. His corpulence made the buggy a more comfortable option than hours spent in a Western saddle, and El Paso was two hours west of the little town of Red Rock. They had reached the tiny border town, only just now beginning to grow as word came of the expected arrival of the Texas and Southern Pacific Railroad later this year, around noon, and McCreedy had led them to a little café which enjoyed his patronage.
After they had eaten, they visited a shop with signs in two languages over its door—Joyería, and Fine Jewelry. Heyes explained to the proprietor what he was looking for and was directed to a display case with trays of rings. He looked them over, but didn’t see anything he liked; more specifically, he wasn’t sure what he did want. His eyes were caught by a small book lying on the table behind the counter, The Language of Gems.
“What’s that book?” he asked. “I didn’t know gems had a language.”
“Oh, Señor, this book explains the meanings of the jewels, so that you can choose a stone that will say what you want to your lady, you understand?”
“Kid, did you hear that? Maybe that’s like that flower list you have in the back of that book of yours.”
“Yeah, could be.” Kid came over to stand beside his partner. “Could we see the book?”
The little man passed the book over. “If you would tell me what you are looking for?” he said to Heyes. “I know this book well; perhaps I can help you find something.”
That could get awkward, thought Heyes. Oh, well, we’re not gonna see this fellow again any time soon. He looked to make sure that McCreedy was out of earshot. “Maybe something that means ‘sincere’ or ‘trustworthy’ or, well, ‘honest,’ something like that.”
“Ah. If I may, Señor?” The proprietor retrieved the book and turned quickly to a spot close to the front cover. “Like this?” His finger marking an entry, he spread the book open on the countertop in front of Heyes.
Amethysts, Heyes read, have been used to give the wearer quick wits or a clear mind … ah, this was it. They were used, when given as a gift, to signify sincerity on the part of the giver. There were several other meanings. He wondered if Paula could be expected to know what was meant, or at least to know where she could look up such things. He discussed this in a low voice with Kid, who pointed out that if she really had no idea of the intended meaning, she would be likely to ask him, since they had collaborated, as it were, on deciphering the meaning of the flower cards Miss O’More had sent.
“And if she does ask me,” Kid finished, “I can tell her what you had in mind. I think it’ll do, Heyes, and it’ll go with almost anything she wants to wear. At least, it ought to, bein’ that color.” His finger rested on the colored drawing of the purple stone.
“Fine. Now we just need to find out if he has one.” Heyes caught the owner’s eye and pointed out the picture of the amethyst. “Do you have something with this stone? If it isn’t in a ring, maybe I could get it set.”
“Sí, Señor, I have one here. It would be a simple matter to set it in a silver or gold ring, if you know the size.”
Heyes extracted the little leather pouch Wellington had given him from his pocket and shook the sapphire and silver ring it contained out into his hand. “This is the size it needs to be.”
The jeweller settled the ring down over a sizing rod and made notes. He opened a locked drawer in a chest behind the counter, lifted something out, and came over to Heyes, putting a dark, glowing purple stone down on the counter inside the silver circle of the ring. “There, Señor. A gold ring for it, or a silver one?”
Kid and Heyes exchanged looks. “Silver,” said Heyes. Kid nodded.
“Very well. I can have that done for you tomorrow afternoon, or possibly the next day.”
Heyes thanked him and moved away to the end of the counter, looking at some of the silver and turquoise brooches on display.
Seeing that they were bringing the transaction to an end, McCreedy had drifted over to the counter. “I’d like to pick out some little thing for my wife, while we’re here.” He was bearing his wife’s instructions about Miss Wellington’s ring in mind and thinking how best to carry them out.
“We’ll wait for you outside, Mac,” Curry said. He and his partner stepped out into the winter sunshine, still quite warm this far south.
Bending closer to speak into the jeweller’s ear, McCreedy passed over a handful of gold coins. “Ah, I’d appreciate it if you’d have that ring ready for my young friend tomorrow. Use this money to cover the rush order and to bring the price down for him. And now, I’d like to have that diamond pendant. I’ll take it with me, if you’ll wrap it up.” He passed over more money to cover the price of the pendant.
“Certainly, Señor McCreedy.” The man fitted the pendant into a box and began wrapping it carefully. “You will not be accompanying your friend tomorrow?”
“No, I have business at the ranch. He’s not to know anything about this, understand?”
“Sí, Señor, comprendo. I will have the ring ready for him tomorrow, and I will say nothing about the extra money.”
“Good. Adiós.”
The McCreedy Ranch, Monday, February 7th
When the men had departed, Carlota McCreedy and Paula Wellington withdrew from the breakfast table to a small sitting room on the south-eastern side of the house, where, when the heavy crimson drapes had been drawn back, the morning sun provided extra warmth and light through large windows. Each lady had provided herself with a piece of hand work; this morning, both happened to be knitting socks, as the simplicity of the work was more conducive to conversation.
Having each admired the other’s work, they went on to comment about the different styles of knitting. Paula, as usual, was knitting in the English manner, using her right hand to fling a loop of yarn around behind the working needle in order to make each stitch, while Carlota pushed the tip of the working needle under a strand held taut in her left hand, pulling it up to make a loop. For the present, they had decided to continue their conversation in Spanish, as a courtesy from Paula to her hostess.
“The odd thing is,” commented Paula, “that I am left-handed, as Joshua is for most things except writing and shooting, and yet I’m using what some people think of as a right-handed style of knitting. I can do the Continental style that you are using, but I am not as quick with it, and I want to finish this sock. If Joshua plans to buy me a promise ring today, and give it to me sometime this week, I shall have to have these socks ready to give him. I’ve been working on them for a couple of months, intending them for a Christmas present, but of course I dared not give him anything so personal until he had expressed more than an ordinary interest; really, until he had given me something to show his regard.”
“Yes, I understand. I suppose, in some ways, my husband and I were fortunate that we did not have to deal with many of those conventions, since our courtship was of such a short duration. These socks are for Patrick, and he will probably buy something for me in El Paso. He likes to give me things.”
“You did not know one another at all well before you were married, Joshua told me.”
“No. We had met only once, though each of us had been told much of the other. I owe a great deal to Joshua and Thaddeus, because it was they who made both Patrick and me see that such a thing was possible.” Carlota stopped to bring in a second color of yarn, making a decorative top border to the stocking. “He wished to call at our rancho and ask Ernesto’s formal permission to call upon me. I would have been happy for him to do that, so that we could get acquainted, in the usual manner of courtship, but my brother became very agitated when I told him what Patrick had done in rescuing me from the bandits who had imprisoned Teresa and me and our escort. Ernesto was quite certain that Patrick had planned the entire thing to put him at a disadvantage. He knows better now, but he made it clear that he had no intention of consenting to any social visits from Patrick.” She stopped work for a moment and looked up. “I am of age, of course, and my brother would have little to say about such a matter, but since it is his house, and he pays the wages of the men who work for us, it would have been impossible for me to welcome Patrick there over my brother’s objections. That is why I took Teresa, and two of the older men who were loyal to me personally, and ran away. I wanted to talk the matter over with Patrick, and I would have had no chance to do so at Rancho Armendáriz.”
“What a romance! But Thaddeus told me that when he came here to ask Mr. McCreedy to accompany him back to Mexico, to set your brother’s mind at ease as to your safety, there was a Spanish priest already here in the midst of a marriage service.”
“Ah. That was due to Teresa. She feared that Patrick would come to the wrong conclusion, if I simply arrived here with no other escort than my maid and two men, so she suggested that we should stop in Metasca and ask Padre Ramírez to accompany us. That way Patrick would understand that there was no intent to have harm come to him, or think that I was some kind of instrument of a plot my brother had devised to avenge himself.”
“I don’t think Mr. McCreedy would have suspected anything of the kind.”
“One could not be certain. Ernesto and Patrick had been fighting for so many years that they did not trust one another about anything. It was good that the priest came along. Only then, when Patrick saw that I was accompanied by a priest and my maid, who is also my friend from long ago, he said to me, why should we not be married, if Padre Ramírez was willing to celebrate the sacrament? We already had a great respect for one another, he pointed out. If we were to be married, my brother would be obliged to accept the matter, and negotiate with Patrick as with a cuñado, a brother-in-law. It seemed to me that was an excellent idea, so I agreed and we were married. It goes very well.”
Paula nodded. “I can see that. It is obvious that Mr. McCreedy has a great affection for you.” She withdrew all but two of her knitting needles from the sock, threaded a yarn needle with the end of the yarn, and began to close the toe opening[5]. “I also have a brother, but he entirely approves of Joshua.” At least, I think he does. “He gave his consent to the courtship about a month ago, and was happy to hear that Joshua had proposed marriage. We are not formally betrothed, because Joshua’s personal responsibilities will not permit him to take on such an obligation at this time, so we are following a custom of the American South by exchanging promises, and he will give me a ring. When he is able to make a formal offer, I will be ready to accept it.”
“It seems to be a betrothal in all but name,” said Carlota.
“It is, and I consider it so,” Paula replied, “but because it is not as binding as a betrothal, it gives me an opportunity to break the agreement, without disgrace, if I should wish to do so. That is what worries Joshua. He does not want to have me bound to him irrevocably until he is able to provide a safe home for me. He cannot do that right now.”
“He is indeed a man of honour, then.”
“Yes, he certainly is. Of course, that only makes me love him the more. It also caused my brother to think favourably of him.”
At this point, Teresa interrupted the knitting and conversation by bringing in a mid-morning tea tray. Carlota explained that although the custom of mid-morning and mid-afternoon tea was not one with which she had been familiar before her marriage, she had discovered that her husband had fond memories of it, as practiced by his Irish-born parents. She had therefore learned to make the beverage properly and had ensured that Teresa also learned. She had even, she confided to Paula, learned to enjoy the tea itself.
“You might well enjoy it,” replied Paula, “when it is of such a good quality and as well-made as this. It’s delightful!”
“Gracias,” murmured her hostess. “You are in the habit of drinking it yourself, then?”
“Yes. My brother and I were born in Scotland and raised in Scotland and England,” Paula explained, “where fine tea is very much appreciated. We kept up the custom when we immigrated to this country to set up a horse ranch in northern Colorado. I buy our tea from an excellent supplier in Denver, though I also have an arrangement with our London solicitor to have a quantity of both China and India tea shipped to us every six months, together with some other products we cannot always find out here in the American West, such as properly milled Scottish oat meal.”
As the day progressed and the two women became better acquainted, Carlota thought that the time might be appropriate to ask her guest the significance of the gift she had brought out on the previous evening, a new edition of The Modern Pocket Hoyle. She had not failed to notice the slight tension that the gift had produced, nor the somewhat unusual gesture her husband had made in asking Joshua Smith to read some sections aloud.
Slightly embarrassed by the question, Paula hesitated. “Señora, in order to answer that, I must say some things that I fear will not be flattering to your husband, or even possibly to your brother. I should not wish to offend you. Perhaps we had best change the subject.”
“There will be no offense, Señorita. I am well aware that neither my brother nor my husband has always behaved toward one another in the most gentlemanly manner, or with the best of intentions. They are both men of wealth and power and have occasionally done things that are less than admirable in order to maintain their respective positions. Ernesto would not deliberately act without honour, and I believe that Patrick will keep his word, once given, but that is not to say that either of them has always done the best possible thing. I know, especially, that in this somewhat ridiculous matter of the sculpture of Augustus Caesar[6], both my brother and my husband have behaved like spoiled young boys still at school. You will not tell Patrick I said so.”
“No, certainly not.” Paula chuckled. “That does make things easier. I suppose you are aware that Mr. McCreedy once hired Joshua and Thaddeus to, shall we say, retrieve that sculpture from your brother’s hacienda?”
“I did not know it at the time, as I was visiting friends in Mexico City, but, yes, I have heard. I have also heard how Ernesto got it back, not once but twice. At least the second time it was legally purchased at an auction in Alta California.”
Paula nodded. “Well, the Hoyle book has a direct bearing on that whole sequence of events. Joshua and Thaddeus told me and my brother what had happened—from their point of view, of course—and so when I saw the book offered for sale in Laredo, I thought it might be useful to own a copy.” She explained the matter of the poker game that McCreedy had pressured Heyes to join, and Heyes’s loss of twenty thousand dollars when McCreedy had used an obscure rule in the 1879 edition of Hoyle to invalidate the winning hand that Heyes had held.
“It was not precisely cheating, but Joshua thought that it was done deliberately with the intent of winning back the money and thus allowing Mr. McCreedy to regain possession of the bust of Caesar at no cost to himself. It had the additional effect of humiliating Joshua in front of the other men present, so Joshua and Thaddeus took it upon themselves to devise an honest way of reversing the situation. They borrowed twenty thousand dollars from the bank for the purpose of making an apparent long-odds wager with Mr. McCreedy. The odds of the wager that Joshua proposed were actually very high in his favour, but unless the other man takes the trouble to sit down and make the calculations, that is not readily apparent.”
“In other words,” said Carlota, “it was a trick very similar to the one that had been played on him. I assume that he won.”
“Yes, and repaid the bank loan, and gained some respect from Mr. McCreedy and the other men present, which was, of course, the other object of the wager. So when I saw the new edition of Hoyle, with a note in the section on poker particularly addressing just the matter that had come up in the original game, I bought it. At the time, I did not think I would have an opportunity to present it to Mr. McCreedy, but as you see, I did so, and it was perfectly well received.” She paused, wondering how much more she should say. There were, of course, some points of the story she would have to omit when speaking with the sister of Ernesto Armendáriz.
“Thus my husband is prevented from trying the same trick on anyone else. That is a good thing. Pray continue, Señorita. There is more?”
“There is a little more to the story, Señora. Mr. McCreedy proposed another wager with Joshua for even stakes, each man to put up twenty thousand dollars in cash. This wager was in progress when Señor Armendáriz arrived to take possession of the Caesar sculpture, so the money was still lying on the table in plain sight.” Paula stopped. There was no good way to talk about what had happened next without accusing Armendáriz of theft, which she wished to avoid.
Carlota spared her the trouble. “I know what was done, Señorita. My brother assumed that the money he saw belonged to my husband—as he is now—and therefore he thought he could take it in satisfaction of the debt that lay between them. But you are saying that half of that money belonged to Mr. Smith?”
“That’s right,” said Paula, relieved. “Twenty thousand of it was Joshua’s stake in the wager that had been proposed.” She had carefully avoided, during the recounting of the story, any mention of where or why Heyes and Kid had obtained the initial twenty thousand dollars. Although she had made a glancing reference to their burglary of the safe to retrieve the bust of Caesar, she had not said that McCreedy had paid them that sum for that particular task. She wondered what Carlota would do now.
“Ernesto did not know that. He would not have wished to take money that belonged to someone else. And he has a considerable respect and liking for Mr. Smith and Mr. Jones.”
“He does?” This was, Paula felt, sure to be news to Heyes and Kid, who had formed the distinct impression that Armendáriz never wished to lay eyes on them again, with his talk of the persistence of mosquitoes and the measures one occasionally had to take to discourage the insects from returning.
“Yes, indeed he does. He spoke to me highly of their courage, and of the good manners and gentlemanly bearing they displayed throughout their dealings with him. He even told me that if one or both of them had been older, he would have been more receptive to an offer for my hand from one of them than to such an offer from Patrick, because they had conducted themselves throughout with honour. He will be most interested to learn that Mr. Smith has engaged himself to marry and that I have had the good fortune to make the lady’s acquaintance. And Mr. Jones? Is there a lady who is interested in him?”
“Yes, there is, though he and the lady are only corresponding formally at this stage. She lives in Colorado, on the Western Slope.”
“That is good to hear, but it is beside the point at issue,” rejoined Carlota. “I will tell my brother what you have said. I am certain he will wish to return the money that belonged to Mr. Smith. Will you leave an address with me, so that he may know where to send it?”
This was more than Paula had ever expected. As she wrote out her brother’s address and explained that letters to Mr. Smith could be addressed to him care of Paul A. Wellington, Esq., at the C Bar W Ranch, Estes Park, Colorado, she resolved to say nothing to Heyes and Kid about the possible return of the money. It might take a long time, or it might never happen at all. If the money was returned, there would be time enough for the boys to decide what to do with it.
[1] The Catholic church in Socorro, originally founded as the Indian mission of Nuestra Señora del Limpia Concepción del Socorro, was rebuilt in 1843 after the previous building was destroyed by flooding. http://www.elpasodiocese.org/la-purisima-socorro-mission.html
[2] The author has slightly modified the text from the 1880 edition of Hoyle, following the practice of Roy Huggins, the producer of the 1957 Maverick episode “According to Hoyle;” also executive producer and story writer for the first-season Alias Smith and Jones episode “The McCreedy Bust.” In actuality, the status of the straight as a legal poker hand was doubtful until early 1887, when both versions of Hoyle (The American Hoyle and Hoyle’s Games) began listing it as a standard hand.
[3] There was never any restriction in Hoyle on playing flushes in poker, or any statement that these rules applied only to stud poker—those two details were invented by Mr. Huggins.
[4] Now Alpine, Texas.
[5] We have no evidence that the style of closing the toe which was supposedly invented by Major General Kitchener, and bears his name, was being used this early; however, it is only reasonable to assume that one or more skilled knitters would have discovered the method for themselves, long before World War I.
[6] The bust is a copy of the head portion of the famous statue of Augustus of Prima Porta, discovered in 1863 at Prima Porta, near Rome. Busts were apparently executed in the first century, so the one McCreedy had could have been quite valuable; on the other hand, it might have been a 19th-century copy falsely represented to him as work from the first century. https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Augustus_of_Prima_Porta