Hombre Read Free

that shell belt and all he wasn’t someone you would stare at. At least not till you saw him close.
    That was not till a few minutes later. Until Mr. Mendez came out of the hotel and Russell nudged his roan up to in front of the office. As he dismounted he looked at me over the saddle and there was that tell-nothing expression, looking at me no different than the way he had looked at LamarrDean the moment before he broke a whisky glass against his mouth.
    Mr. Mendez was standing there now. He said, “You’re going to do it?”
    “I’m going there to sell the place,” Russell said.
    Mr. Mendez seemed to stare at him for awhile, thinking or just looking, I don’t know which. Finally he said, “It’s up to you. You can be white or Mexican or Indian. But now it pays you to be a white man. To look like a white man for awhile. When you go to Contention, you say, How are you? I’m John Russell. I own the Russell place. Some people will remember you from before; some won’t. But they will all know you as John Russell who owns the Russell place. You look at it. If you don’t like it, sell it. If you like it, keep it, and see what happens and then decide.” Mr. Mendez almost seemed to smile. “Did you know life was that simple?”
    “I’ve learned some things,” John Russell said. “That’s why I sell it.”
    He left his roan horse in front and went with Mr. Mendez back across the street to the Alamosa Hotel. Mr. Mendez hadn’t bothered to introduce us. In fact he had not bothered to look at me at all. Which was all right.
    A little later this Mexican boy who worked for us took Russell’s horse around to the stable. I was in the office then, having given up on seeing theMcLaren girl again. The boy came in through the back carrying Russell’s blanket roll and carbine and put them down on the passenger bench. I remember thinking, What will he do without the Spencer if Lamarr Dean or Early are over there at the Alamosa?
    I also remember thinking at the time that dressing like a white man and taking a white man’s name wasn’t ever going to hide the Apache in him. I don’t mean Apache blood. I just mean after the way he had lived, how was he even going to convince anybody he was a white man? He didn’t even prefer to speak English. It was things like that gave you the feeling he had no use for white men or our ways.
    According to Mr. Mendez he was most likely three-parts white, as I have said, and the rest Mexican on his mother’s side. John Russell himself had no memory of his father and only some memory of living in a Mexican village. Probably in Sonora. At that time they say the Apaches were forever raiding the little pueblos and carrying off whatever they needed, clothes, weapons, some women, and sometimes boys young enough to be brought up Apache-style. Which is what must have happened to John Russell. Piecing things together, he must have lived with them about from the time he was six to about age twelve.
    Here is where a James Russell, late of Contention,comes in. At that time he owned supply wagons contracted to the Army, and he was at Fort Thomas when this boy who was called Ish-kay-nay was brought in with some prisoners. The boy was assigned to a work detail under James Russell and that was how the two became friends. Just a month later, when James Russell sold his business and went to settle in Contention, he took the boy with him and gave him his American name, John Russell. Five years or so passed and the boy even went to school there. Then all of a sudden he left and went up to San Carlos and joined the reservation police as if to become Apache again. (Here they called him Tres Hombres , which I will try to tell you about later.)
    Now we are almost up to the present. He was with the police about three years, mostly up at Turkey Creek and Whiteriver. Then he moved again. Off on his own now as a mustanger. (I guess to break horses you don’t have to be halter-broke yourself, because he was pretty good