Сердца трёх / Hearts of three

Francis smiled.

Chapter VI

Jefe Politico of San Antonio, leaned back in his chair with a quiet smile of satisfaction proceeded to roll a cigarette. The old judge gave judgment according to program. And the Jefe was two hundred dollars richer for the transaction. His smile was even broader as he greeted Alvarez Torres.

“Listen,” said the latter, whispering low in his ear. “We can kill both Morgans. Henry hangs tomorrow. Francis should go out today.”

The Jefe remained silent.

“I have advised him to storm the jail. The Solanos have listened to his lies and are with him. They will surely attempt to do it this evening. They could not do it sooner. Francis Morgan will be killed in the fight.”

“For what and for why?” the Jefe asked. “Henry must be out of the way. But let Francis go back to his beloved New York.”

“It is imperative that the Francis be kept away from New York for a month if forever, and I do not misunderstand Senor Regan, so much the better. Money matters, you know.”

“But you have not told me how much you have received, nor how much you will receive,” the Jefe said.

“It is a private agreement, and it is not so much as you may fancy. He is a hard man, this Senor Regan, a hard man. But I will divide fairly with you.”

The Jefe nodded, then said:

“Will it be as much as a thousand?”

“I think so. And five hundred is yours if Francis leaves his bones in San Antonio.”

“It must be more than a thousand,” the Jefe persisted.

“And he may be generous,” Torres responded. “He may even give me five hundred over the thousand, half of which, naturally, as I have said, will be yours as well.”

“I shall go from here immediately to the jail,” the Jefe announced. “You may trust me, Senor Torres, as I trust you. Come. We will go at once, now, you and I, and you may see for yourself the preparation I shall make for this Francis Morgan’s reception. So this Gringo will storm our jail, eh? Come.”

He stood up. But, half way across the room, a boy plucked his sleeve and whined:

“I have information. You will pay me for it, Senor? I have run all the way.”

“I’ll sent you to the jail!” was the reply.

The boy cried: “You will remember I brought you the information, Senor. I ran all the way until I am almost dead!”

“Yes, yes, animal, I will remember. What is your information? It may not be worth a centavo.[65 - centavo – сентаво, мелкая монета ряда испано- и португалоязычных стран]”

“The jail,” the boy quavered. “The strange Gringo, the one who was to be hanged yesterday, has blown down the side of the jail. The hole is as big as the steeple of the cathedral! And the other Gringo, the one who looks like him, the one who was to hang tomorrow, has escaped with him out of the hole. This I saw, myself, with my two eyes, and then I ran here to you all the way, and you will remember…”

“I don’t believe it has been accomplished. It is not possible. Even a fool Gringo would not dare.”

Rafael,[66 - Rafael – Рафаэль] the gendarme, rifle in hand, came through the courtroom door.

“We are devastated,” were Rafael’s first words. “The jail is destroyed. Dynamite! A hundred pounds of it: A thousand! We came bravely to save the jail. But it exploded the thousand pounds of dynamite. I fell unconscious, rifle in hand. When sense came back to me, I looked about. All others, the brave Pedro, the brave Ignacio, the brave Augustino[67 - Augustino – Аугустино] – all, all, lay around me dead! They lay dead. The cell of Morgan was empty. There was a huge and monstrous hole in the wall. I crawled through the hole into the street. There was a great crowd. But the Gringo Morgan was gone. They rode toward the beach. There is a schooner that is not anchored. Francis Morgan rides with a sack of gold on his saddle. It is a large sack.”