The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1901-08-21

Four miles above Monterey toward
Topo Chico, uplifted from the dust and
dead heat of the plain, lies the haci
enda of Jose del Casa, the alealde.
His white home sits enshrined In
wilderness of green. encinctured by
5000 acres of vines and corn lands
and blllowlng meadows that reach
from edge to edge of the steep walled
table fountain of which his estate is
the crown and glory.
Patricia, his only child, Is, with sloe
black eyes, hair like a stormcloud and
the oval, luminous face of Botticelll
Madonna, had spent three years with
the Ladies of the Sacred Heart In
Paris. She had seen the bouleyards
and shifted from afar the gallantry and
gayPty of the French capital There
fore she yearned and moped amid the
desolate splendor of her Mexican
home.
Have you ever seen the queer little
street car line with It's tandem of small
brown mules that runs, or, rather,
ereeps, between the Hotel IIidalgo, on
the plaza in Monterey, down through
the narrow streets, away across the
dusty fields, where sage and cactus,
dry and gray, cover the rising plateaus
with desolate monotony; out past the
beetllng buttes of Casas Hacienda,
which tower red and hot In the sun, to
the uprising canyon that leads TO Topo
-sshsso, t,sS ,sos,.ss ~r~,s.s,a s,---.,@--,..-
giving waters in whose fountain pool
Aztec and Indian peon and patrician,
have sought aud found health for
thousand yrarsy This Topo Chico Is
the terminus OF the little narrow gauge
street car line that starts In Monterey.
Its single car. with open seats running
across the width OF II. are seldom
crowded Ia the morning few tour
lists bound for the baths smoke and
idle through the tedious trip, but Ia
the evening when the summer sun
sinks behind the green. cool shoulders
of Del Casas. tie lone car Is always
empty except FOR the driver or an err
rant shepherd returning from market
in Monterey.
1t was at this time in the evening
that Patricia chose for little taunt on
that queer little street car. With an
Client Madre Anselma, her nurse when
she was a romplng child, her govern
ess, maid aud duenna by turns as the
girl grew TO womanhood. Patricia
would ramble down the long stone
stairway and IN the purple shadow or
the roadside thlcket wait for that emp
ty car to come droning ont of the haze.
t..ft M ttn1qrGinn6
English, and 80 II was her wont to sit
In the rear seat while the beautiful Pa
tricia, her mantilla now fallen from
before her radiant face, would sit on
the front seat near the driver and urge
or bride him to send the little mules
galloplng
The driver was great, yellow haired
giant, with blue eyes and laughing
mouth. For Patricia he would speed
his queer little team till the car swayed
like boat on running pillows and her
delighted laughter fell upon his will
ing ears like the music Of tinkling man
dollns. AS for Anselma, so long as the
car was empty but for themselves she
was content to sit In the rear seat,
black, motionless, but alert, smoking
her cigarettes, as Mexican women must
and wondering what Patricia could
| have said to the big, fair Gringo to
make him drive his mules so fast, to
make him smile so benlgnantly.
Every summer evening TIL the cha
parral lost its luster and the willows In
| the river bed began to scatter cracking
| leaves across the sands Patricia and
her chaperon stole away to this clan
destine frollc on the street car till II
became the event OF the gay chlld's
days and a habit even with the with
cred woman who watched the harm
less frollc.
One night as the blond American car
driver was laughing and thrashing over
the road with the laughing senorita at
his elbow a borseman with his rife
presented doomed across the narrow
road. The mules hesitated, stopped,
backed up in their trace chains. The
driver put down brake and ceased to
smile. He seized the switch BAR bade
Patricia lie down, faced the enemy.
money or your lfeP commanded the
outlaw In good English.
.You can have the box" roared the
driver. but II you rob the woman you
must fight"
The robber dismounted boarded the
car, aud while Patricia and the old
woman looked on he smashed 10 the
money box with the butt OF bis rifle
and pocketed the few pItiful centayos
that jlngled In the bottom. II Patricia
had left The car, or drawn up her lace
maptilla, or even turned her face away
the robber might not have seen the
diamond brooch glstenlng at he,
throat. But the sight was too much
for him. The big American saw the
fash Of his eyes as be leyeled his rife
and at the same moment the switch
| ohnva bfS hoad Tho riff