Jack of the Tules

Shrewdly you question, Senor, and I fancy     You are no novice. Confess that to little     Of my poor gossip of Mission and Pueblo     You are a stranger!     Am I not right? Ah! believe me, that ever     Since we joined company at the posada     Ive watched you closely, and pardon an old priest     Ive caught you smiling!     Smiling to hear an old fellow like me talk     Gossip of pillage and robbers, and even     Air his opinion of law and alcaldes     Like any other!     Now! by that twist of the wrist on the bridle,     By that straight line from the heel to the shoulder,     By that curt speech, nay! nay! no offense, son,     You are a soldier?     No? Then a man of affairs? San Sebastian!     Twould serve me right if I prattled thus wildly     To say a sheriff? No? just caballero?     Well, mores the pity.     Ah! what we want heres a man of your presence;     Sano, Secreto, yes, all the four Ss,     Joined with a boldness and dash, when the time comes,     And may I say it?     One not too hard on the poor country people,     Peons and silly vaqueros, who, dazzled     By reckless skill, and, perchance, reckless largesse,     Wink at some queer things.     No? You would crush them as well as the robbers,     Root them out, scatter them? Ah you are bitter     And yet quien sabe, perhaps thats the one way     To catch their leader.     As to myself, now, Id share your displeasure;     For I admit in this Jack of the Tules     Certain good points. He still comes to confession     Youd like to catch him?     Ah, if you did at such times, you might lead him     Home by a thread. Good! Again you are smiling:     You have no faith in such shrift, and but little     In priest or penitent.     Bueno! We take no offense, sir; whatever     It please you to say, it becomes us, for Church sake,     To bear in peace. Yet, if you were kinder     And less suspicious     I might still prove to you, Jack of the Tules     Shames not our teaching; nay, even might show you,     Hard by this spot, his old comrade, who, wounded,     Lives on his bounty.     If ah, you listen! I see I can trust you;     Then, on your word as a gentleman follow.     Under that sycamore stands the old cabin;     There sits his comrade.     Eh! are you mad? You would try to arrest him?     You, with a warrant? Oh, well, take the rest of them:     Pedro, Bill, Murray, Pat Doolan. Hey! all of you,     Tumble out, d n it!     There! thatll do, boys! Stand back! Ease his elbows;     Take the gag from his mouth. Good! Now scatter like devils     After his posse four straggling, four drunken     At the posada.     You help me off with these togs, and then vamos!     Now, ole Jeff Dobbs! Sheriff, Scout, and Detective!     Youre so derned cute! Kinder sick, aint ye, bluffing     Jack of the Tules!