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47 Tamale Ridge by: Chuck Cusimano

I wanted him to say that to his brother when he saw him for the first time. I told Gilberto,

“He will be proud to see that you are learning English and he will not worry about you as

much.”

“Verdad, Señor,” he said.

I began to run low on cash and went to the bank to get a draft on the account of mine in Trinidad.

“I’ll have to charge you to call that far on the telephone,” the man told me.

“Call, I’ll pay you,” I told him.

I had nearly a thousand dollars in that bank and knew they would send me what I wanted.

Telephones were still kind of new but I knew for a fact that the bank in Trinidad had one.

Mountain States Telephone and Telegraph saw to that, back in 1914.

The man made the call and whatever they said to him he looked at me and said,

“Yes Sir! I’ll see that he gets it, right away!” “Here ya go”, he said, “Fifty dollars, cash, and

that’ll be 20 cents for the call. But you need to sign this paper.”

I signed it, paid him the twenty cents and went back to the hotel. Gilberto left for the stable to

work on his gear. He wanted to oil his saddle leather and bridle and change the tree in his

Mexican saddle.

He had sat for two nights working on a new one. He whittled a new one himself out of a

cottonwood stump. After watching him work on that thing I developed even more respect for

that young man. A couple of the local boys went to hang around the livery either to watch, or

make trouble but their plans were wrecked when Antonio found me at the hotel and we walked

together to the stable.

The locals were talking in English about what they wanted to do to Gilberto when he left the

stable and Antonio and I walked up and Gilberto said in English to his brother,

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