Lando (1962) by Louis - Sackett's 08 L'amour

name Sackett, although it would have been long ago.
    He studied me without pleasure. "Do you know Se@nor King?"
    "We spoke with him two days ago. He was driving to Brownsville with the se@nora."
    King was well thought of on both sides of the border, and to know him seemed the wise thing.
    He considered the situation a bit, then said:
    "One thing, se@nor. A prisoner has escaped. We want him. If you should come upon him, seize him at once and send a rider for me. Anyone rendering assistance to him will be shot."
    Without further ^ws, he wheeled his horse.
    When they had ridden away, the vaquero turned to me, his expression grave. "Se@nor, that was Antonio Herrara--a very bad man.
    Avoid him if you can."
    They were packing to leave, and seemed more than anxious to get away, and I couldn't find it in my heart to go a-blaming them. Surely, this was no trouble of theirs.
    After they had gone there was nothing we could do but ride herd on our cattle, and wait.
    Sometimes a man is a fool, and I had a feeling that when I left my mare to go traipsing after gold money I'd been more of a fool than most. I'd sure enough be lying if I said I wasn't scared, for that Herrara shaped up like a mean man, and we were in his country where he was the law.
    Miguel took the first ride around, bunching the cattle for night. They seemed willing enough to rest, being chock full of good grass like they were. Me, I kept looking up trail toward the border and a-hoping for those riders.
    What if Jonas and the Tinker couldn't make it? What if Herrara spotted them as escaped prisoners themselves?
    "Miguel," I said, when he stopped by on his circling, "come daybreak we're pushing on, riders or no riders. We're going to head for the border."
    He nodded seriously. "It is wise, amigo. That Herrara, he is a bad man."
    The place where we were was a meadow four, five miles out of Santa Teresa and on an arm of the sea. There was brush around, and some marshy land.
    "That prisoner," Miguel said, "he will not be taken easily. He killed a guard in escaping, and he has been much tortured. It is said, se@nor"--Miguel paused expressively--?t he was believed to know something of a treasure."
    "A treasure?" I asked mildly.
    "Si, se@nor. It is a treasure much talked of, a treasure of the pirate, LaFitte. For thirty years and more men have sought it along the shore to the north. Most of all, Antonio Herrara and his father, the commandant of this area."
    What could a man say to that? Only it made me itch all the more to get that herd moving.
    "Miguel, an hour before daylight we will start the herd. Twenty miles tomorrow."
    "It is a long drive, se@nor," he said doubtfully.
    "Twenty miles--no less."
    When the moon lifted, the cattle rose to stretch their legs and move around. Far off, there was a sound of coyotes, and closer by we could hear the rustle of the surf. The waters of the Laguna Madre were close by, the sea itself lay out beyond the bar, at least twenty-five miles away.
    Miguel came in and, after coffee, turned in. Mounting the dun, I circled the cattle, singing softly to let them know that they were not alone, and that the shadow they saw moving was me. Nevertheless, there was a restlessness in them I could not explain, but I put it down to my ignorance of cattle.
    With the first gray of dawn I stopped by to wake up Miguel.
    He sat up and put on his hat, then pulled on his boots. He reached for the big, fire-blackened coffee pot, and shook it in surprise. "You drink much coffee, se@nor."
    "One cup," I said. "I was afraid to stop for more. Something was bothering the cattle."
    He emptied out the pot into his cup. "There were at least five cups in this, amigo. No less, certainly. I made the coffee myself, and know what we drank. It is a pot for ten men."
    "Pack up," I said, "let's move 'em."
    They seemed willing enough to go, and an old blue-roan steer moved out and took the lead, as he had done all the way from the hacienda.
    As they moved, they fed; and we let them