Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1914-07-10

t doesn't look like it-according 20
him It was a Mexican town. Maybe
he's around here now-his name vas
Mendez."
Jose Maria Mendez?" inquired Don
Juan, who was a living directory of
the place. Ricardo? Pancho? Cruz?"
"Cruzl" cried De Lancey; that was
it"
He lives down the river a couple of
miles," said Don Juan; down at Old
Fortuna"
"Old Fortunal" repeated Phil. 81
didn't know there was such a place."
why my graciousl" exclaimed Don
Juan de Dios, scandalized by such
ignorance. DO you mean to say you
have been here three days and never
this isn't Fortunal This is an Ameri-
can mining camp-the old town Is
down below.
"That's where this man Aragon, the
big Mexican of the country, has his
ranch and store. Spanish? Hmm No.
A1CC0"lHlldQ 4 ID AaA 0HaAA1oA aha
half Yaqui Indian, but his wife is a
pure Spaniard-one of the few in the
country. Her father was from Madrid
and she Is a Villanueva-a very beau
tiful woman in her day. with golden
hair and the presence of a queenl
mo, not Irishl My goodness, you
Americans think that everybody with
red hair Is Irishi Why, the most beau
tiful women in Madrid have chestnut
hair as soft as the fur of a dormouse.
It Is the old Castilian hair. and they
are proud of 1t. The Sonora Aragon
married beneath her station-it was
in the City Of Mexico, and she did not
know that he was an Indian-but she
is q very nice lady for all that and
never omits to bow to me when she
comes up to take the train. | remem-
Der one time"
Does Cruz Mendez work for him?"
interjected De Lancey desperately.
mo, indeedi" answered Don Juan
patiently; "he packs in wood from the
hills-but as l was saying" and
from that he went on to tell of the I'M
failing courtesy of the Sonora Aragon
to a gentleman whom, whatever his
present station might be, she recog-
nized as a member of one of the oldest
families in CASTLE.
De Lancey did not press his In
quiries any further, but the next morn
ing, instead of riding back into the
hills, he and Bud turned their faces
down the canyon to seek out the elusive
Mendez. They had, of course, been
acting a part for Don Juan, since Kru-
ger had described Old Fortuna and the
Senior Aragon with great m~inuteness.
And now, In the guise of innocent
strangers, they rode on down the river,
past the concentration with It's multiple
tanks, Its gliding tramway and noun
tains of tailings, through the village of
Indian houses stuck like dugouts
against the barren hill-then along a
river bed that oozed with Stockings IN
til they came in sight of the town.
La Fortuna was an old town, yet not
as old.as its name, since two FORTUNES
1t had been washed away by
cioddDurstg ami TepfHred By newer
dwellings. The settlement itself was
some four hundred years old, dating
back to the days of the Spanish con
q%uistadores, when 1t yielded up many
muleloads of gold.
The present town was built a little
up from the river in the lee of a great
ridge of rocks thrust cc.yn from the
hill and we'll calculated to turn aside
a glut of waters. It was a comfortable
huddle of whitewashed adobe build
ings set on both sides of a THROW and
irregular road-the great trail that led
down to the hot country ard vas worn
deep by the pack-trains CT cen -uries.
On the lower side was tia ample
store and cantina of Don Cipriano,
where the thirsty arrieres could get a
drink and buy a panocAe of sugar
without getting down from their
pole corrals and adobe warehouses
and the quarters of the poems, and
across the road was the mescal still,
where, in huge copper retort and
worm, the fiery liquor was distilled
from the sugar-laden heads of Yuccas.
This was the town. but the most i'm
portant building-set back In the
shade of mighty cottonwoods and
pleasantly aloof from the road-was
the residence of Senior Aragon. It was
this, in fact, which held the undivided
attention of De Lancey as they rode
quietly through the village. for he
had become accustomed from a long
experience in the tropics to look for
something elusive, graceful and femi,
nine in houses set back in a garden.
Nothing stirred, however, and having
good reason to avoid Don Cipriano,
they logged steadily on their way.
Some housed" observed Phil, with
n last honaful link ovar his shou1dar