Book of Secrets (9 page)

  Both Lefty and Shorty, just barely containing their fear, knew who the two riders must be: none other than that scourge of the plains: La Mano Negra, the Black Hand, and his faithful Chinaman companion, Jin Ti.

  The two riders stopped just short of Lefty and Shorty, coming to rest at either side of the Mexican, who looked from one to the other with a kind of quiet awe. La Mano Negra, each of his Peacemakers still trained on the ranch hands, was the first to break the long silence. 

  "What seems to be the trouble here, boys?" His voice was low, and rich, and seemed to rumble through the air like distant thunder. 

  Lefty was the one to answer.

  "We're just taking care of justice, mister," he spoke, his voice belying his discomfort. "This here Messican stoled cattle from our boss, Mr. Buck Pierce of the Pierce Ranch. We was only doing our jobs, bringing him to justice." 

  "You say he stole cattle?" La Mano Negra asked, indicating the Mexican.

  "I didn't steal anything," the Mexican piped up, indignant. "Those cattle were stolen from me. By Pierce. He is the thief."

  La Mano Negra motioned him silent with a wave of his hand.

  "We'll get your side in a minute here, mi amigo." La Mano Negra turned to the ranch hands again, and repeated his question. "I said, you say he stole cattle?"

  Lefty and Shorty looked nervously to one another, and then nodded their consent. 

  "Yessir," Shorty answered. "He stole cattle." 

  "That he did," Lefty added.

  La Mano Negra turned to look behind him, and then around to all sides, the pistols still on the ranch hands.

  "That's funny," he finally said. "I don't see any cattle." La Mano Negra turned to Jin Ti, who sat stoically in the saddle. "Jin Ti, you see any cattle?"

  "No, Heishou," the Chinaman answered. "I don't."

  "Well then." La Mano Negra turned back to the ranch hands. "I'm not sure I see the problem, gentlemen."

  Lefty and Shorty looked from La Mano Negra, to the Mexican, and then to one another. They sat in silence, afraid to speak.

  "I'd expect," La Mano Negra added, "that you boys have got some work to do back on the ranch. Am I right?"
  "Y-yeah," Lefty stammered.
  "Yessir," Shorty whispered.

  "Well, then," said La Mano Negra. "I expect you best get back to work, don't you?"

  Without another word, Lefty and Shorty turned their horses away, and kicked them into a gallop. In moments, they had disappeared from view. La Mano Negra holstered his jet black pistols, and swung from the saddle. His boots hitting the dusty ground, he strode over to stand beside the Mexican. Jin Ti, dropping his Winchester in a saddle holster, followed suit.

  The Mexican, his gratitude writ in a wide grin across his face, extended his hand to La Mano Negra.

  "Gracias," the Mexican effused. "Gracias. You have saved my life."

  "Don't need to thank me," La Mano Negra answered, taking his hand. "Anyone would have done the same."

  "No señor, they would not. Only the great La Mano Negra, and his faithful Chinee aid." The Mexican next took Jin Ti's hand, and pumped it with a hearty shake. "I am Alberto Cuellar," he announced, "and I would be honored if you would take your dinner with my family tonight." 

  "Well…" La Mano Negra answered, seeming unsure.

  "And you are welcome to stay the night," Cuellar added. "As long as you like."

  "I don't know, Señor Cuellar," La Mano Negra replied. "We usually don't stay too long." "I don't know, Heishou," Jin Ti commented. "It would be nice to eat indoors for a change, and to sleep between sheets instead of rattlesnakes and scorpions."

  "Well, Jin Ti," La Mano Negra joked, "why don't you just put on a dress while you're at it?" 

  "Please, Señor Negra," Cuellar pleaded. "I insist."

  La Mano glanced from the entreating Mexican, to his weary companion, and then back again. "Oh, alright," La Mano Negra relented. "But just for tonight."

2

W
ithin the hour they had reached Cuellar's home, not five miles from the Rio Grande, and were now seated around a wide table. Cuellar himself was at the head, La Mano and Jin Ti at either elbow, and Cuellar's young children, two daughters and a son, seated beside them. Cuellar's wife, a plump and happy young woman, was at the stove, completing preparations for their meal.

  La Mano, settling back in his straight backed chair, noted to himself that Cuellar's home was much more inviting inside than it had appeared outside. A rough structure, more stone and earth than wood, was held together more by good wishes than by design, but inside before a blazing fire it was as comfortable as any home the vigilante had seen on the range in many a year.

  Jin Ti, sitting across from him, was quietly sipping water from a battered metal cup Cuellar's wife had produced from some unknown corner, but his quiet air told La Mano that his Chinaman friend was at ease.

  Finally, Cuellar's wife ferried the food to the table: tamales, barbacoa, rice and beans, and flour tortillas. She set a plate before each of the guests, and invited them to tuck in.

  With a glance to Jin Ti, who caught his eye, La Mano casually reached up and, with an easy ges ture, removed the mask covering his face. He let it fall, revealing the features hidden behind its rough cloth. All motion ceased around the table, and all eyes turned to him, all except Jin Ti, who looked on with a quiet smile.

  "Can't eat with the damned thing on," La Mano answered to their questioning stares, and then turned to Cuellar's wife. "Excuse my French, ma'am."

  "De nada," Cuellar's wife answered quietly.

  Without another word, La Mano forked a pile of rice and beans onto a tortilla, and fell to eating. Cuellar made a noticeable effort to relax, and motioned his family to eat.

  Cuellar's oldest daughter, all of eight, kept staring at La Mano, her fork held motionless in the air above her plate.

  "Señor," she finally said in a small voice, "if you are La Mano Negra with the mask on, who are you with the mask off?"

  "Terese!" Cuellar barked. "Do not bother our guest!"

  "Ain't no bother, amigo," La Mano calmly answered. "See, little lady, in my line of work it don't pay for everybody to know who you are, cause they might just come gunnin' for your family, or else catch you unawares in your sleep or just walkin' down the street. But when I'm with good folks like y'all, it don't really matter any more. You understand?"

  "Sí," the little girl answered, and then after a moment added, "So who are you without the mask?"

  "My name's Taylor, little lady. John Bunyan Taylor." He grinned at her, putting her at ease. "But you can call me Jack."

  "Alright," she replied. "Jack. I'm Terese." 

  "Pleased to know you Terese."

  After everyone had relaxed noticeably, they proceeded to clean the table of food. When the meal was done, La Mano and Jin Ti complimented Cuellar's wife on her cooking, and then as she and the children began to clean up the two of them joined Cuellar in the main room to share a pouch of tobacco.

  Sitting in rude but comfortable chairs, the three passed the pouch around until each had rolled a butt of his own, and then lit them with kindling from the fire. They eased back in their chairs then, La Mano and Jin Ti just enjoying the temporary respite from their travels, Cuellar beaming at having two such notable men in his home.

  After a time, Cuellar rose from his chair, and brought from the corner of the room a wooden chest, which he placed before the two men. He then knelt down beside it, his hand resting reverently on its top.

  "This, señors," he began, "is the treasure of my family. Within are the things handed down by my grandfathers, and their grandfathers before them. We are a poor people, though we work hard, but to us this chest is worth all the cattle and gold in the world."

  Cuellar then slowly lifted the lid of the chest, and began pulling out items for the two men to inspect. First came a muzzle-loading flintlock, a hundred years old if it was a day. It was rusted almost beyond recognition, long past an age when it was of any use, but the two men could see that it was a prized heirloom to Cuellar's family. Cuellar handed it over, and they respectfully passed it back and forth between themselves, commenting on its fine shape and obvious age. Jin Ti handed the thing back to Cuellar, who carefully returned it to the trunk.

  Next came a metal helmet, shaped like a cone, with a metal fin running along the top. The metal was dented and scratched, corroded to an even green shade. Cuellar explained that his manytimes great-grandfather had worn that helmet, when first he came to the New World, and that his sons and their sons after him had kept it to remind them of their origins. Again, La Mano and Jin Ti feigned interest in the relic, and then passed it back to Cuellar.

  Next came a book, of indeterminate age, bound in leather with a round metal shield on the front. Cuellar explained that this had belonged to his forefather who had worn the helmet, and though he couldn't read a word, of Spanish or English, he knew that it must contain some great wisdom. La Mano took it in his hands, and gave it the same cursory inspection as the previous two items. The shield on the front of the book was of a silvery metal, which for the book's obvious age seemed hardly weathered at all. At Cuellar's prompting, he flipped through the first few pages. La Mano took it for a bible, though the pages he skimmed through weren't written in any language he could read. It looked something like the Hebrew he'd seen in New York [
During the events recounted in "La
Mano Negra in the Big City"—E
D
.
], but it could have been hen scratching for all he knew. He handed the book back to Jin Ti, who then passed it back to Cuellar.

  Cuellar went through a few other odds and ends, a few Indian arrowheads, a silver necklace, a few scraps of clothing, and when he was assured his guests were suitably impressed closed up the chest and put it away.

  La Mano then motioned to Jin Ti, and the two men rose.

  "We sure do appreciate your hospitality, amigo," he told Cuellar, "but we've been ridin' a long few weeks here, and we sure could use some rest. If you just point us out to your barn…" 

  At that Cuellar interrupted, cutting him off with a wave of his hand.

  "No, you will sleep in our bed, my wife and mine," he demanded.

  "Now, wait a minute," La Mano answered. "We appreciate your feedin' us and all, but we can't just kick you out of your own…"

  Cuellar, his face set, refused to hear anymore. They had saved his life from Pierce's men, and he would consider it an insult if the two heroes would not allow him to show his gratitude. Not brooking any dissent, Cuellar led the two men to the bedroom, and practically ordered the two men to climb in under the quilts.

  "My wife and I will sleep with the children," Cuellar concluded. "And I will not argue it." 

  With that he turned, and stomped back into the main room.

  La Mano turned to Jin Ti, who shrugged.

  "Well, Heishou," Jin Ti offered. "You heard the man. We are to be forced to sleep on a comfortable mattress, under fine sheets."
  "Yep," La Mano answered.

  "The next time we are to be tortured by some bandit villain, could you arrange it so that this man Cuellar is in control of the proceedings?" "Jin," La Mano replied, "I'll see what I can do."

L
ate that night, as they lay sleeping side by side on the wide bed, La Mano and Jin Ti were startled awake by the sharp crack of gun fire. They leapt to their feet, stepping into their boots before even coming fully awake. They listened, tensed, and when the sound came again risked the time it took to shoot a look between them. 

  "Outside," La Mano barked, pulling his twin Colts from the holster lying draped over a chair back and checking the chambers.

  Jin Ti snatched up his Winchester, and without another word the two bolted from the room and through the small house, coming at last to the front door. Cuellar and his family, huddled in the corner of the room, looked on them with wide eyes from the darkness. Only the youngest child, the boy, made any noise, whimpering slightly as his mother held him close to her breast. 

  "Alright, amigo," La Mano whispered in the dark. "You're with us. Your kin'll be fine if they stay put in here." Cuellar nodded, solemnly, and rose to follow.

  "You got a gun?" La Mano asked. Cuellar nodded, and then walked to the far corner of the room, returning with a battered old double-bore shotgun. "Good enough."

  La Mano glanced at Jin Ti, and then nodded. Without warning, the Chinaman shot his hand forward, and flung wide the door. With a quick look to Cuellar, the two bolted through the door and into the dark night beyond, their guns spitting fire out into the darkness.

  A hasty survey of the grounds told them all they needed to know. The barn was afire, a man standing nearby with a torch in one hand, a revolver in the other. Two other men were horseback, a few yards off, one holding the reins to the torch-bearers mount.

  "Cuellar! Fetch the horses from the barn!" La Mano barked, and the Mexican rushed to comply, pausing only momentarily to glance back to his family inside. He held the shotgun before him in one hand, and made a sign of the cross with the other.

  La Mano and Jin Ti immediately divided up targets, and commenced to firing. The interlopers, startled at first, soon regrouped and returned fire. They had no doubt expected to catch the Cuellar family abed, and not to find two well-traveled gunmen waiting to repel their attack.

  La Mano and his companion split up, running from the door in opposite directions, each sending an unrelenting hail of lead towards the attackers. The dirt at their feet was kicked up in clouds as the shots hit all round them, but not one struck true. La Mano found cover near a roofed well, and emptied his two Colts into the night air, while Jin Ti crouched near a wheel-less wagon, firing and reloading, firing and reloading. One of the attackers, the one afoot, returned fire until he spun on his toes, caught by Jin Ti's shot in his chest. He fell to the ground with a sickening thud, and was still.