The Border Empire by Ralph Compton Read Free Book Online

find a store. You still aim to become an hombre?”
    â€œ Sí ,” she replied.
    â€œI reckon I’d better buy myself some Mexican clothes,” said Wes. “I feel pretty good behind this Mejicano stain of yours. I don’t have Mejicano eyes, but changin’ out of Texas duds might help.”
    They reached what appeared to be a mercantile, and it was somewhat isolated, likely because there was penned livestock. There was a pen of sheep, one of goats, and a third of pigs. A pair of mules looked over the rails of a makeshift corral. There were no horses, mules, wagons, or carts in sight, and the place looked deserted.
    â€œThis is an ideal place,” Wes said. “Nobody else around. With any luck, maybe we can get in there an’ out without bein’ seen by anybody but the storekeeper.”
    They looped the reins of their horses around the hitching rail. Empty lay down next to Maria’s black. While the dog hadn’t become friendly to Maria, he had accepted her. With Maria leading, they entered the store. The old Mexican storekeeper was careful not to appear too curious. He allowed them to choose their purchases. Maria selected high-heeled riding boots, a loose-fitting cotton shirt, matching cotton trousers with a sash, and a wide-brimmed straw sombrero. Wes chose straw-colored trousers and matching shirt, and finally a wide-brimmed straw sombrero. He would keep his Texas boots. Maria paid for her purchases and Wes paid for his without a word being spoken. Quickly the storekeeper wrapped and string-tied everything in brown paper except the sombreros. Leaving the store, they mounted and rode in search of a lodging house or hotel. The lodging house they eventually chose was between the railroad and the street that seemed to house only cantinas, cafes, and bawdy houses.
    â€œI speak,” Maria said as they prepared to enter the lodging house.
    The old Mexican woman wore a shawl that obscured everything except her wrinkled face. She looked at Maria, then at Wes, finally fixing her eyes on Empty, who eyed her with suspicion. She finally pointed to Empty.
    â€œ Uno , dos, tres,” she said.
    Maria nodded, paying what she asked. They were led down the hall and shown to a room. There was no key. When they were alone in the room, Maria laughed.
    â€œNo perro,” she said, pointing to Empty. “He hombre . ”
    â€œI noticed that,” said Wes. “If they serve grub here, he eats at the table with us. I reckon we’d better get into our Mejicano garb and find a place to stable the horses.” Maria’s new clothing was more in line with what a Mexican would wear. Her boots were simple, the shirt and trousers homespun.
    Wes removed his hat, gunbelt, and boots. He then stepped out of his familiar Levi’s and denim shirt, eyeing with some distaste the cheap Mexican clothing. It was loose-woven, a light tan in color, and appeared to be only a cut or two above burlap. The shirt fit well enough, and although he missed his belt, the trousers were adequate. The legs were long enough to conceal his Texas boots. The ungainly straw sombrero was the worst.
    â€œThis damn thing’s as big as a wagon wheel,” Wes complained.
    Maria laughed. “Is Mejicano .”
    Wes gathered up his Texas clothing, including his hat. He wrapped it carefully in the brown paper in which the store had wrapped his Mexican garb. Maria brought him the too-big Levi’s and denim shirt. she had worn, and he included them in the package.
    â€œThis goes on the packhorse,” he said. “Now we must find a stable.”
    â€œI ask,” said Maria.
    Dressed in Mexican clothing, a Colt belted around her lean hips, Wes had to admit the girl might pass as a young Mexican man. While he felt better about his own chances, he still was handicapped with blue eyes. Maria had gone in search of the old Mexican woman from whom they had rented the room, and when she returned, she knew