The Wilmington daily Republican., 1901-09-06
The Street Car
To TopoChico
WHY PATRICIA ROBBED
THE DRIVER.
BY JOHN H. RAFFERTY,.
l@oa0aOeosesoososoao3o1oa

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 alcalde.
His white home sits enshrined in q
wilderness Of green, encinctured by
5000 acres Of vines and corn lands
and billowing meadows that reach
from edge to edge of the steep walled
table fountain of which his estate is
the crown aud glory.
Patricia his only child, 1S, with sioe
black eyes, hair like a stormcloud and
the oval luminous face of a Botticelli
Madonna. had spent three years with
the Ladies OF the Sacred Heart in
Paris She had seen the boulevards
and shifted from afar the gallantry and
eayety of the French capital. There
fore she ycaIned and moped amid the
lesolate splendor of her Mexican
home.
Have you ever seen the queer little
street eur line with its tandem of small
brown mules that runs. or. rather.
eIeepS. between the Hotel lIilalgO Oh
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
beetling buttes of Casls Hacienda,
which tower red and hot In tie sun. to
the uprising canyon that leads to Topo
Chico. the boiling spring. the health
giving waters iD whose fountain pool
Aztec and Indian. peon and patricinn,
have sought and found health for a
thousand years: 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 it, are seldom
crowded In the morning few tour
lists bound for the baths smoke and
idle through the tedious trip. but il
the evening. when the summer sun
sinks behind the green. cool shoulders
of Del CaSas, the lone car is always
empty except for the driver or an er-
idba SbtPuSib iCNul hlIlS iIOlll hGL
in Monterey.
1t was at this time in the evening
that Patricia close for little jaunt on
that queer little street car. With an
cieIl Madre AusrlmI. her nurse when
she was a ronping child, her govern
ess. maid and duenna by turns as the
girl grew to womanhoou. Patricia
would ramhIe down tie long stone
stairway and in the purple shadow of
the roadside thicket wait for that emp
ty car to come dronlng out of the haze.
Anselma neither spoke nor understood
English, and 50 1t 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 bribe him to send the little mules
galopng
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 swaycd
like boat on running pillows and her
delighted laughter fell upon bis will.
Ing ears like the music OF tnk!ing 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 50 henisnantly.
Every summer evening till the cha.
parral lost its luster and the willows in
the river bed began to scatter cracking
leaves across the sands Patricia aud
her chaperon stole awny to this clan.
destine trolic on the street car till it
became the event of the gay child's
days and habit even with the with.
cred woman who watched the harm
less frolic.
One night as the blond American car
driver was laughing and thrashing over
the road with the laughing senorlta at |
his elbow horseman with his rife |
presented loomed across the narrow |
road. The mules hesitated. stopped,
backed up 10 their trace chains. The
driver put down brake and ceased to
smile. He seized the switch bar. babe
Patricia lie down. faced the enemy.
Money or your life" commanded the
outlaw In good English.
"iou can have the box" roared the
driver. "but If you rob the woman you
must fight"
The robber dlsmounted, boarded the
car. and while Patricia and the old
woman looked on he smashed 10 the
money box with the butt Of bis rife
and pocketcd the few pitful centavos
that jingled In the bottom. If Patricia
had left the car, or drawn up her lace
or even turned her face away,
the robber might not have seen the
brooch glistening Mt her
!lIroat But the sight was too much
for him. The big American saw the
fash Of his eyes as he leveled his rife,
and at the same moment the switch
Ii !