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+Project Gutenberg's The Twins of Suffering Creek, by Ridgwell Cullum
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Twins of Suffering Creek
+
+Author: Ridgwell Cullum
+
+Release Date: August 8, 2009 [EBook #29638]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TWINS OF SUFFERING CREEK ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+THE TWINS OF SUFFERING CREEK
+
+
+
+
+BY THE SAME AUTHOR
+
+  THE ONE-WAY TRAIL
+  THE TRAIL OF THE AXE
+  THE SHERIFF OF DYKE HOLE
+  THE WATCHERS OF THE PLAINS
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "Say--Jessie," he breathed hotly, "you're--you're fine!"]
+
+
+
+
+THE TWINS OF SUFFERING CREEK
+
+BY
+
+RIDGWELL CULLUM
+
+AUTHOR OF
+
+"THE ONE-WAY TRAIL," "THE WATCHERS OF THE PLAINS," ETC.
+
+PHILADELPHIA
+
+GEORGE W. JACOBS & CO.
+
+PUBLISHERS
+
+
+
+
+Copyright, 1912, by
+
+George W. Jacobs & Company
+
+
+
+
+TO
+
+MY TWO LITTLE CHUMS
+
+CHRIS AND RIDGE
+
+THIS BOOK
+
+IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+      I POTTER'S CLAY                                                9
+     II THE HARVEST OF PASSION                                      23
+    III THE AWAKENING OF SCIPIO                                     37
+     IV SCIPIO BORROWS A HORSE                                      54
+      V HUSBAND AND LOVER                                           69
+     VI SUNNY OAK PROTESTS                                          87
+    VII SUNNY OAK TRIES HIS HAND                                    94
+   VIII WILD BILL THINKS HARD--AND HEARS NEWS                      108
+     IX THE FORERUNNER OF THE TRUST                                116
+      X THE TRUST                                                  124
+     XI STRANGERS IN SUFFERING CREEK                               136
+    XII THE WOMAN                                                  142
+   XIII BIRDIE AND THE BOYS                                        154
+    XIV BIRDIE GIVES MORE ADVICE                                   167
+     XV THE TRUST AT WORK                                          177
+    XVI ZIP'S GRATITUDE                                            188
+   XVII JESSIE'S LETTER                                            196
+  XVIII ON THE ROAD                                                205
+    XIX A FINANCIAL TRANSACTION                                    216
+     XX HOW THE TRUST BOUGHT MEDICINE                              225
+    XXI SCIPIO MAKES PREPARATIONS                                  236
+   XXII SUNDAY MORNING IN SUFFERING CREEK                          240
+  XXIII A BATH AND--                                               247
+   XXIV --A BIBLE TALK                                             259
+    XXV WILD BILL FIRES A BOMB                                     267
+   XXVI WILD BILL INSPECTS HIS CLAIM                               274
+  XXVII SUSPENSE                                                   285
+ XXVIII JAMES                                                      296
+   XXIX THE GOLD-STAGE                                             304
+    XXX ON THE SPAWN CITY TRAIL                                    316
+   XXXI THE BATTLE                                                 325
+  XXXII A MAN'S LOVE                                               335
+ XXXIII THE REASON WHY                                             346
+  XXXIV THE LUCK OF SCIPIO                                         353
+   XXXV HOME                                                       363
+
+
+
+
+THE TWINS OF SUFFERING CREEK
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+POTTER'S CLAY
+
+
+Scipio moved about the room uncertainly. It was characteristic of him.
+Nature had given him an expression that suggested bewilderment, and,
+somehow, this expression had got into his movements.
+
+He was swabbing the floor with a rag mop; a voluntary task, undertaken
+to relieve his wife, who was lounging over the glowing cookstove,
+reading a cheap story book. Once or twice he paused in his labors, and
+his mild, questioning blue eyes sought the woman's intent face. His
+stubby, work-soiled fingers would rake their way through his
+straw-colored hair, which grew sparsely and defiantly, standing out at
+every possible unnatural angle, and the mop would again flap into the
+muddy water, and continue its process of smearing the rough boarded
+floor.
+
+Now and again the sound of children's voices floated in through the
+open doorway, and at each shrill piping the man's pale eyes lit into a
+smile of parental tenderness. But his work went on steadily, for such
+was the deliberateness of his purpose.
+
+The room was small, and already three-quarters of it had been
+satisfactorily smeared, and the dirt spread to the necessary
+consistency. Now he was nearing the cookstove where the woman sat.
+
+"I'd hate to worry you any, Jess," he said, in a gentle, apologetic
+voice, "but I'm right up to this patch. If you'd kind of lift your
+feet, an' tuck your skirts around you some, guess you could go right
+on reading your fiction."
+
+The woman looked up with a peevish frown. Then something like a
+pitying smile warmed her expression. She was a handsome creature, of a
+large, somewhat bold type, with a passionate glow of strong youth and
+health in every feature of her well-shaped face. She was taller than
+her diminutive husband, and, in every detail of expression, his
+antithesis. She wore a dress with some pretensions to display, and
+suggesting a considerable personal vanity. But it was of the tawdry
+order that was unconvincing, and lacked both refinement and tidiness.
+
+Scipio followed up his words with a glance of smiling amiability.
+
+"I'm real sorry--" he began again.
+
+But she cut him short.
+
+"Oh, bother!" she exclaimed; and, thrusting her slippered feet upon
+the stove, tucked her skirts about her. Then, utterly ignoring him,
+she buried herself once more in her book.
+
+The mop flapped about her chair legs, the water splashed the stove.
+Scipio was hurrying, and consequently floundering. It was his endeavor
+not to disturb his wife more than was necessary.
+
+Finally he wrung out his mop and stood it outside the door in the sun.
+He emptied his bucket upon the few anaemic cabbages which grew in an
+untidy patch at the side of the hut, and returned once more to the
+room.
+
+He glanced round it with feeble appreciation. It was a hopeless sort
+of place, yet he could not detect its shortcomings. The rough,
+log-built walls, smeared with a mud plaster, were quite unadorned.
+There was one solitary opening for a window, and in the center of the
+room was a roughly manufactured table, laden with the remains of
+several repasts. Breakfast was the latest, and the smell of coffee and
+fried pork still hung about the room. There were two Windsor chairs,
+one of which his wife was occupying, and a ramshackle food cupboard.
+Then there were the cookstove and a fuel box, and two or three iron
+pots hanging about the walls.
+
+Out of this opened a bedroom, and the rough bedstead, with its tumbled
+blankets, was in full view where Scipio stood. Although the morning
+was well advanced the bed was still unmade. Poor as the place was, it
+might, in the hands of a busy housewife, have presented a very
+different appearance. But Jessie was not a good housewife. She hated
+the care of her little home. She was not a bad woman, but she had no
+sympathy with the harshnesses of life. She yearned for the amplitude
+to which she had been brought up, and detested bitterly the pass to
+which her husband's incapacity had brought her.
+
+When she had married Scipio he had money--money that had been left to
+him for the purpose of embarking in business, a purpose he had
+faithfully carried out. But his knowledge of business was limited to
+the signing of checks in favor of anyone who wanted one, and, as a
+consequence, by the time their twins were three years old he had
+received an intimation from the bank that he must forthwith put them
+in credit for the last check he had drawn.
+
+Thus it was that, six months later, the thirty or forty inhabitants of
+Job's Flat on Suffering Creek--a little mining camp stowed away in the
+southwest corner of Montana, almost hidden amongst the broken
+foothills of the Rocky Mountains--basking in the sunshine of a Sunday
+afternoon haze, were suddenly startled by the apparition of a small
+wagon, driven by a smaller man with yellow hair, bearing down upon
+them. But that which stirred them most surely was the additional sight
+of a handsome girl, sitting at his side, and, crowded between them on
+the seat, a pair of small children.
+
+Scipio, in a desperate effort to restore his fortunes, and set his
+precious family once more on a sound financial basis, had come in
+search of the gold which report said was to be had on Suffering Creek
+for the trouble of picking it up.
+
+This vision startled Suffering Creek, which, metaphorically, sat up
+and rubbed its eyes. Here was something quite unaccustomed. The
+yellow-haired fragment of humanity at the end of the reins was like
+nothing they had ever seen; the children were a source of wondering
+astonishment; but the woman--ah! There was one woman, and one woman
+only, on Suffering Creek until Jessie's arrival, and she was only the
+"hash-slinger" at Minky's store.
+
+The newcomer's face pleased them. Her eyes were fine, and full of
+coquetry. Her figure was all that a woman's should be. Yes, the camp
+liked the look of her, and so it set out to give Scipio a hearty
+welcome.
+
+Now a mining camp can be very cordial in its rough way. It can be
+otherwise, too. But in this case we have only to do with its
+cordiality. The men of Suffering Creek were drawn from all sorts and
+conditions of society. The majority of them lived like various grades
+of princes when money was plentiful, and starved when Fortune frowned.
+There were men amongst them who had never felt the softer side of
+life, and men who had been ruthlessly kicked from that downy couch.
+There were good men and scoundrels, workers and loafers; there were
+men who had few scruples, and certainly no morals whatever. But they
+had met on a common ground with the common purpose of spinning
+fortune's wheel, and the sight of a woman's handsome face set them
+tumbling over each other to extend the hand of friendship to her
+husband.
+
+And the simple-minded Scipio quickly fell into the fold. Nor was it
+long before his innocence, his mildness, his never-failing
+good-nature got hold of this cluster of ruffians. They laughed at
+him--he was a source of endless amusement to them--but they liked him.
+And in such men liking meant a great deal.
+
+But from the first Scipio's peculiar nature, and it was peculiar, led
+him into many grievous mistakes. His mind was full of active purpose.
+He had an enormous sense of responsibility and duty to those who
+belonged to him. But somehow he seemed to lack any due sense of
+proportion in those things which were vital to their best interests.
+Ponderous thought had the effect of turning his ideas upside down,
+leaving him with but one clear inspiration. He must do. He must
+act--and at once.
+
+Thus it was he gave much consideration to the selection of the site of
+his house. He wanted a southern aspect, it must be high up, it must
+not be crowded amongst the other houses. The twins needed air. Then
+the nearer he was to the creek, where the gold was to be found, the
+better. And again his prospecting must tap a part of it where the
+diggers had not yet "claimed." There were a dozen and one things to be
+considered, and he thought of them all until his gentle mind became
+confused and his sense of proportion completely submerged.
+
+The result was, he settled desperately upon the one site that common
+sense should have made him avoid. Nor was it until the foundations of
+the house had been laid, and the walls were already half their full
+height, that he realized, from the desolation of refuse and garbage
+strewn everywhere about him, that his home was overlooking the camp
+"dumps."
+
+However, it was too late to make any change, and, with characteristic
+persistence, he completed his work and went into residence with his
+wife and the twins.
+
+The pressure of work lessened, he had a moment in which to look
+around. And with the thought of his twins on his mind, and all his
+wife had once been accustomed to, he quickly realized the necessity of
+green vegetables in his _menage_. So he promptly flew to the task of
+arranging a cabbage patch. The result was a foregone conclusion. He
+dug and planted his patch. Nor was it until the work was completed
+that it filtered through to his comprehension that he had selected the
+only patch in the neighborhood with a heavy underlay of gravel and
+lime stone.
+
+But his crowning effort was his search for gold. There are
+well-established geological laws governing the prospector's craft
+which no experienced gold-seeker ever departs from. These were all
+carefully explained to him by willing tongues. Then, after poring over
+all he had learned, and thought and searched for two days and two
+nights, he finally discovered a spot where no other prospector had
+staked the ground.
+
+It was a curious, gloomy sort of patch, nearly half-a-mile up the
+creek from the camp, and further in towards the mountains. Just at
+this spot the banks of the creek were high, there was an unusual
+blackness about the soil, and it gave out a faint but unrecognizable
+odor, that, in the bright mountain air, was quite pleasant. For
+several hundred yards the ground of this flat was rankly spongy, with
+an oozy surface. Then, beyond, lay a black greasy-looking marsh, and
+further on again the hills rose abruptly with the facets of
+auriferous-looking soil, such as the prospector loves to contemplate.
+
+Scipio pondered. And though the conditions outraged all he had been
+told of the craft he was embarking upon, he plunged his pick into this
+flat, and set to work with characteristic good-will.
+
+The men of the camp when they discovered his venture shook their heads
+and laughed. Then their laugh died out and their hard eyes grew
+serious. But no one interfered. They were all seeking gold.
+
+This was Scipio's position on Suffering Creek, but it does not tell
+half of what lay somewhere in the back of his quaintly-poised mind. No
+one who knew him failed to realize his worship for his wife. His was a
+love such as rarely falls to the lot of woman. And his devotion to his
+girl and boy twins was something quite beyond words. These things were
+the mainspring of his life, and drove him to such superlative degrees
+of self-sacrifice that could surely only have been endured by a man of
+his peculiar mind.
+
+No matter what the toil of his claim, he always seemed to find leisure
+and delight in saving his wife from the domestic cares of their home.
+And though weary to the breaking-point with his toil, and consumed by
+a hunger that was well-nigh painful, when food was short he never
+seemed to realize his needs until Jessie and the children had eaten
+heartily. And afterwards no power on earth could rob him of an hour's
+romp with the little tyrants who ruled and worshiped him.
+
+Now, as he stood before the littered table, he glanced out at the sun.
+The morning was advancing all too rapidly. His eyes drifted across to
+his wife. She was still reading. A light sigh escaped him. He felt he
+should be out on his claim. However, without further thought he took
+the boiler of hot water off the stove and began to wash up.
+
+It was the clatter of the plates that made Jessie look up.
+
+"For goodness' sake!" she exclaimed, with exasperation. "You'll be
+bathing the children next. Say, you can just leave those things alone.
+I've only got a bit more to read to the end of the chapter."
+
+"I thought maybe it 'ud help you out some. I--"
+
+"You give me a pain, you sure do," Jessie broke in. "You get right out
+and hustle gold, and leave things of that sort to others."
+
+"But I don't mind doing it, truth I don't," Scipio expostulated
+mildly. "I just thought it would save you--"
+
+Jessie gave an artificial sigh.
+
+"You tire me. Do you think I don't know my work? I'm here to do the
+chores--and well I know it. You're here to do a man's work, same as
+any other man. You get out and find the gold, I can look after the
+house--if you can call it a house," she added contemptuously.
+
+Her eyes were quite hopeless as she let them wander over the
+frowsiness in the midst of which she sat. She was particularly
+discontented this morning. Not only had her thoughts been rudely
+dragged back from the seductive contemplation of the doings of the
+wealthy ones as the dime fiction-writer sees them, but there was a
+feeling of something more personal. It was something which she hugged
+to her bosom as a priceless pearl of enjoyment in the midst of a
+barren, rock-bound life of squalor.
+
+The sight of him meandering about the room recalled these things.
+Thoughts, while they troubled her, yet had power to stimulate and
+excite her; thoughts which she almost dreaded, but which caused her
+exquisite delight. She must get rid of him.
+
+But as she looked about the room something very like dismay assailed
+her. There were the hated household duties confronting her; duties she
+was longing to be free of, duties which she was tempted to abandon
+altogether, with everything else that concerned her present sordid
+life.
+
+But Scipio knew none of this. His unsuspicious nature left him utterly
+blinded to the inner workings of her indolent, selfish spirit, and was
+always ready to accept blame for her ill-humors. Now he hurriedly
+endeavored to make amends.
+
+"Of course you can, Jess," he said eagerly. "I don't guess there's
+another woman around who can manage things like you. You don't never
+grumble at things, and goodness knows I couldn't blame you any, if
+you did. But--but ther' seems such a heap to be done--for you to do,"
+he went on, glancing with mild vengefulness at the litter. "Say," he
+cried, with a sudden lightening and inspiration, "maybe I could buck
+some wood for you before I go. You'll need a good fire to dry the
+kiddies by after you washened 'em. It sure wouldn't kep me long."
+
+But the only effect of his persistent kindliness was to further
+exasperate his wife. Every word, every gentle intention on his part
+made her realize her own shortcomings more fully. In her innermost
+heart she knew that she had no desire to do the work; she hated it,
+she was lazy. She knew that he was far better than she; good, even
+noble, in spite of his mental powers being so lamentably at fault. All
+this she knew, and it weakly maddened her because she could not rise
+above herself and show him all the woman that was so deeply hidden
+under her cloak of selfishness.
+
+Then there was that other thought, that something that was her secret.
+She had that instinct of good that made it a guilty secret. Yet she
+knew that, as the world sees things, she had as yet done no great
+harm.
+
+And therein lay the mischief. Had she been a vicious woman nothing
+would have troubled her, but she was not vicious. She was not even
+less than good in her moral instincts. Only she was weak, hopelessly
+weak, and so all these things drove her to a shrewish discontent and
+peevishness.
+
+"Oh, there's no peace where you are," she cried, passionately flinging
+her book aside and springing to her feet. "Do you think I can't look
+to this miserable home you've given me? I hate it. Yes, I hate it all.
+Why I married you I'm sure I don't know. Look at it. Look round you,
+and if you have any idea of things at all what can you see but a
+miserable hog pen? Yes, that's it, a hog pen. And we are the hogs. You
+and me, and--and the little ones. Why haven't you got some 'get up'
+about you? Why don't you earn some money, get some somehow so we can
+live as we've been used to living? Why don't you do something, instead
+of pottering around here trying to do chores that aren't your work,
+an' you can't do right anyway? You make me mad--you do indeed. But
+there! There's no use talking to you, none whatever!"
+
+"I'm sorry, Jess. I'm real sorry you feel like this."
+
+Scipio left the table and moved to the cupboard, into which he
+mechanically began to stow the provender. It was an unconscious action
+and almost pathetic in its display of that kindly purpose, which,
+where his wife was concerned, was never-failing. Jessie saw, angry as
+she was, and her fine eyes softened. Perhaps it was the maternal
+instinct underlying the selfishness that made her feel something akin
+to a pitying affection for her little husband.
+
+She glanced down at the boiler of water, and mechanically gathered
+some of the tin plates together and proceeded to wash them.
+
+"I'm kind of sorry, Zip," she said. "I just didn't mean all that.
+Only--only it makes me feel bad seeing all this around, and you--you
+always trying to do both a man's and a woman's work. Things are bad
+with us, so bad they seem hopeless. We're right here with two kiddies
+and--and ourselves, and there's practically no money and no prospects
+of there being any. It makes me want to cry. It makes me want to do
+something desperate. It makes me hate things--even those things I've
+no right to hate. No, no," as the man tried to stop her, "don't you
+say anything. Not a word till I've done. You see, I mayn't feel like
+talking of these things again. Maybe I shan't never have a chance of
+talking them again."
+
+She sighed and stared out of window.
+
+"I want you to understand things as I see them, and maybe you'll not
+blame me if I see them wrong. You're too good for me, and I--I don't
+seem grateful for your goodness. You work and think of others as no
+other man would do. You don't know what it is to think of yourself.
+It's me, and the children first with you, and, Zip--and you've no call
+to think much of me. Yes, I know what you'd say. I'm the most perfect
+woman on earth. I'm not. I'm not even good. If I were I'd be glad of
+all you try to do; I'd help you. But I don't, and--and I just don't
+seem able to. I'm always sort of longing and longing for the old days.
+I long for those things we can never have. I think--think always of
+folks with money, their automobiles, their grand houses, with lots and
+lots of good things to eat. And it makes me hate--all--all this. Oh,
+Zip, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm not good. But I'm not, and I--I--"
+
+She broke off and dashed the back of her hand across her eyes in time
+to wipe away the great tears that threatened to roll down her rounded
+cheeks. In a moment Scipio was at her side, and one arm was thrust
+about her waist, and he seized one of her hands.
+
+"You mustn't to cry," he said tenderly, as though she were a child.
+"You mustn't, Jess--truth. You ain't what you're saying. You ain't
+nothing like it. You're dear and good, and it's 'cause you're that
+good and honest you're saying all these things. Do you think I don't
+know just how you're suffering? Do you? Why, Jess, I know just
+everything about you, and it nigh breaks my heart to think of all I've
+brought you to. It ain't you, Jess, it's me who's bad. It's me who's a
+fool. I hain't no more sense than a buck rabbit, and I ain't sure a
+new-littered pup couldn't put me to sleep for savvee. Now don't you go
+to crying. Don't you indeed. I just can't bear to see those beautiful
+eyes o' yours all red and running tears. And, say, we sure have got
+better prospects than you're figgering. You see, I've got a claim
+there's no one else working on. And sure there's minerals on it.
+Copper--or leastways it looks like copper, and there's mica, an'
+lots--an' lots of stuff. I'll sure find gold in that claim. It's just
+a matter of keepin' on. And I'm going to. And then, when we find it,
+what a blow-out we'll have. We'll get automobiles and houses, and--and
+we'll have a bunch of sweet corn for supper, same as we had at a hotel
+once, and then--"
+
+But the woman had suddenly drawn away from his embrace. She could
+stand no more of her little husband's pathetic hopes. She knew. She
+knew, with the rest of the camp, the hopelessness of his quest, and
+even in her worst moments she had not the heart to destroy his
+illusions. It was no good, the hopelessness of it all came more than
+ever upon her.
+
+"Zip dear," she said, with a sudden, unwonted tenderness that had
+something strangely nervous in it, "don't you get staying around here
+or I'll keep right on crying. You get out to your work. I'm feeling
+better now, and you've--you've made things look kind of brighter," she
+lied.
+
+She glanced out of window, and the height of the sun seemed suddenly
+to startle her. Her more gentle look suddenly vanished and one of
+irritability swiftly replaced it.
+
+"Now, won't you let me help you with all these things?" Scipio
+coaxed.
+
+But Jessie had seemingly quite forgotten her moment of tenderness.
+
+"No," she said sharply. "You get right out to work." Then after a
+pause, with a sudden warming in her tone, "Think of Jamie and Vada.
+Think of them, and not of me. Their little lives are just beginning.
+They are quite helpless. You must work for them, and work as you've
+never done before. They are ours, and we love them. I love them.
+Yes"--with a harsh laugh--"better than myself. Don't you think of me,
+Zip. Think of them, and work for them. Now be off. I don't want you
+here."
+
+Scipio reluctantly enough accepted his dismissal. His wife's sudden
+nervousness of manner was not hidden from him. He believed that she
+was seriously upset, and it pained and alarmed his gentle heart. But
+the cause of her condition did not enter into his calculations. How
+should it? The reason of things seemed to be something which his mind
+could neither grasp nor even inquire into. She was troubled, and
+he--well, it made him unhappy. She said go and work, work for the
+children. Ah, yes, her thoughts were for the children, womanly,
+unselfish thoughts just such as a good mother should have. So he went,
+full of a fresh enthusiasm for his work and for his object.
+
+Meanwhile Jessie went on with her work. And strangely enough her
+nervousness increased as the moments went by, and a vague feeling of
+apprehension took hold of her. She hurried desperately. To get the
+table cleared was her chief concern. How she hated it. The water grew
+cold and greasy, and every time she dipped her cloth into it she
+shuddered. Again and again her eyes turned upon the window surveying
+the bright sunlight outside. The children playing somewhere beyond the
+door were ignored. She was even trying to forget them. She heard their
+voices, and they set her nerves jangling with each fresh peal of
+laughter, or shrill piping cry.
+
+At last the last plate and enameled cup was washed and dried. The
+boiler was emptied and hung upon the wall. She swabbed the table
+carelessly and left it to dry. Then, with a rush, she vanished into
+the inner room.
+
+The moments passed rapidly. There was no sound beyond the merry games
+of the twins squatting out in the sun, digging up the dusty soil with
+their fat little fingers. Jessie did not reappear.
+
+At last a light, decided step sounded on the creek side of the house.
+It drew nearer. A moment or two later a shadow flitted across the
+window. Then suddenly a man's head and shoulders filled up the
+opening. The head bent forward, craning into the room, and a pair of
+handsome eyes peered curiously round.
+
+"Hi!" he cried in a suppressed tone. "Hi! Jessie!"
+
+The bedroom curtain was flung aside, and Jessie, arrayed carefully in
+her best shirtwaist and skirt, suddenly appeared in the doorway. Her
+eyes were glowing with excitement and fear. But her rich coloring was
+alight with warmth, and the man stared in admiration. Yes, she was
+very good to look upon.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+THE HARVEST OF PASSION
+
+
+For one passionate moment the woman's radiant face held the gaze of
+the man. He was swayed with an unwholesome hunger at the sight of her
+splendid womanhood. The beautiful, terrified eyes, so full of that
+allurement which ever claims all that is vital in man; the warm
+coloring of her delicately rounded cheeks, so soft, so downy; the
+perfect undulations of her strong young figure--these things caught
+him anew, and again set raging the fire of a reckless, vicious
+passion. In a flash he had mounted to the sill of the window-opening,
+and dropped inside the room.
+
+"Say--Jessie," he breathed hotly. "You're--you're fine."
+
+His words were almost involuntary. It was as though they were a mere
+verbal expression of what was passing through his mind, and made
+without thought of addressing her. He was almost powerless in his
+self-control before her beauty. And Jessie's conscience in its weakly
+life could not hold out before the ardor of his assault. Her eyelids
+lowered. She stood waiting, and in a moment the bold invader held her
+crushed in his arms.
+
+She lay passive, yielding to his caresses for some moments. Then of a
+sudden she stirred restlessly. She struggled weakly to free herself.
+Then, as his torrential kisses continued, sweeping her lips, her eyes,
+her cheeks, her hair, something like fear took hold of her. Her
+struggles suddenly became real, and at last she stood back panting,
+but with her young heart mutely stirred to a passionate response.
+
+Nor was it difficult, as they stood thus, to understand how nature
+rose dominant over all that belonged to the higher spiritual side of
+the woman. The wonderful virility in her demanded life in the full
+flood of its tide, and here, standing before her, was the embodiment
+of all her natural, if baser, ideals.
+
+The man was a handsome, picturesque creature bred on lines of the
+purer strains. He had little enough about him of the rough camp in
+which she lived. He brought with him an atmosphere of cities, an
+atmosphere she yearned for. It was in his dress, in his speech, in the
+bold daring of his handsome eyes. She saw in his face the high
+breeding of an ancient lineage. There was such a refinement in the
+delicate chiseling of his well-molded features. His brows were widely
+expressive of a strong intellect. His nose possessed that wonderful
+aquilinity associated with the highest type of Indian. His cheeks were
+smooth, and of a delicacy which threw into relief the perfect model of
+the frame beneath them. His clean-shaven mouth and chin suggested all
+that which a woman most desires to behold in a man. His figure was
+tall and muscular, straight-limbed and spare; while in his glowing
+eyes shone an irresistible courage, a fire of passion, and such a
+purpose as few women could withstand. And so the wife of Scipio
+admitted her defeat and yielded the play of all her puny arts, that
+she might appear sightly in his eyes.
+
+But she only saw him as he wished her to see him. He showed her the
+outward man. The inner man was something not yet for her to probe. He
+was one of Nature's anachronisms. She had covered a spirit which was
+of the hideous stock from which he sprang with a gilding of
+superlative manhood.
+
+His name was James, a name which, in years long past, the Western
+world of America had learned to hate with a bitterness rarely equaled.
+But all that was almost forgotten, and this man, by reason of his
+manner, which was genial, open-handed, even somewhat magnificent,
+rarely failed, at first, to obtain the good-will of those with whom he
+came into contact.
+
+It was nearly nine months since he first appeared on Suffering Creek.
+Apparently he had just drifted there in much the same way that most of
+the miners had drifted, possibly drawn thither out of curiosity at the
+reports of the gold strike. So unobtrusive had been his coming that
+even in that small community he at first passed almost unobserved. Yet
+he was full of interest in the place, and contrived to learn much of
+its affairs and prospects. Having acquired all the information he
+desired, he suddenly set out to make himself popular. And his
+popularity was brought about by a free-handed dispensation of a
+liberal supply of money. Furthermore, he became a prominent devotee at
+the poker table in Minky's store, and, by reason of the fact that he
+usually lost, as most men did who joined in a game in which Wild Bill
+was taking a hand, his popularity increased rapidly, and the
+simple-minded diggers dubbed him with the dazzling sobriquet of "Lord
+James."
+
+It was during this time that he made the acquaintance of Jessie and
+her husband, and it was astonishing how swiftly his friendship for the
+unsuspicious little man ripened.
+
+This first visit lasted just three weeks. Then, without warning, and
+in the same unobtrusive way as he had come, he vanished from the
+scene. For the moment Suffering Creek wondered; then, as is the way of
+such places, it ceased to wonder. It was too busy with its own affairs
+to concern itself to any great extent with the flotsam that drifted
+its way. Scipio wondered a little more than the rest, but his twins
+and his labors occupied him so closely that he, too, dismissed the
+matter from his mind. As for Jessie, she said not a word, and gave no
+sign except that her discontent with her lot became more pronounced.
+
+But Suffering Creek was not done with James yet. The next time he came
+was nearly a month later, just as the monthly gold stage was preparing
+for the road, carrying with it a shipment of gold-dust bound for Spawn
+City, the nearest banking town, eighty miles distant.
+
+He at once took up his old position in the place, stayed two weeks,
+staked out a claim for himself, and pursued his intimacy with Scipio
+and his wife with redoubled ardor.
+
+Before those two weeks were over somehow his popularity began to wane.
+This intimacy with Scipio began to carry an ill-flavor with the men of
+the place. Somehow it did not ring pleasantly. Besides, he showed a
+fresh side to his character. He drank heavily, and when under the
+influence of spirits abandoned his well-polished manners, and
+displayed a coarseness, a savage truculence, such as he had been
+careful never to show before. Then, too, his claim remained unworked.
+
+The change in public opinion was subtle, and no one spoke of it. But
+there was no regret when, finally, he vanished again from their midst
+in the same quiet manner in which he had gone before.
+
+Then came the catastrophe. Two weeks later a gold stage set out on its
+monthly journey. Sixty miles out it was held up and plundered. Its two
+guards were shot dead, and the driver mortally wounded. But
+fortunately the latter lived long enough to tell his story. He had
+been attacked by a gang of eight well-armed horsemen. They were all
+masked, and got clear away with nearly thirty thousand dollars' worth
+of gold.
+
+In the first rush of despairing rage Suffering Creek was unable to
+even surmise at the identity of the authors of the outrage. Then Wild
+Bill, the gambler, demanded an accounting for every man of the camp on
+the day of the tragedy. In a very short time this was done, and the
+process turned attention upon Lord James. Where was he? The question
+remained unanswered. Suspicions grew into swift conviction. Men asked
+each other who he was, and whence he came. There was no answer to any
+of their inquiries at first. Then, suddenly, news came to hand that
+the gang, no longer troubling at concealment, was riding roughshod
+over the country. It was a return to the regime of the "bad man," and
+stock-raiding and "hold-ups," of greater or less degree, were being
+carried on in many directions with absolute impunity; and the man
+James was at the head of it.
+
+It was a rude awakening. All the old peace and security were gone. The
+camp was in a state of ferment. Every stranger that came to the place
+was eyed askance, and unless he could give a satisfactory account of
+himself he had a poor chance with the furious citizens. The future
+dispatch of gold became a problem that exercised every mind, and for
+two months none left the place. And this fact brought about a further
+anxiety. The gang of robbers was a large one. Was it possible they
+might attempt a raid on the place? And, if so, what were their chances
+of success?
+
+Such was the position at Suffering Creek, and the nature of the threat
+which hung over it. One man's name was in everybody's mind. His
+personality and doings concerned them almost as nearly as their search
+for the elusive gold which was as the breath of life to them.
+
+And yet Lord James was in no way deterred from visiting the
+neighborhood. He knew well enough the position he was in. He knew well
+enough all its possibilities. Yet he came again and again. His visits
+were paid in daylight, carefully calculated, even surreptitiously
+made. He sought the place secretly, but he came, careless of all
+consequences to himself. His contempt for the men of Suffering Creek
+was profound and unaffected. He probably feared no man.
+
+And the reason of his visits was not far to seek. There was something
+infinitely more alluring to him at the house on the dumps than the
+gold which held the miners--an inducement which he had neither wish
+nor intention to resist. He reveled in the joy and excitement of
+pursuing this wife of another man, and had the camp bristled with an
+army of fighting men, and had the chances been a thousand to one
+against him, with him the call of the blood would just as surely have
+been obeyed. This was the man, savage, crude, of indomitable courage
+and passionate recklessness.
+
+And Jessie was dazzled, even blinded. She was just a weak, erring
+woman, thrilling with strong youthful life, and his dominating nature
+played upon her vanity with an ease that was quite pitiful. She was
+only too ready to believe his denials of the accusations against him.
+She was only too ready to--love. The humility, devotion, the goodness
+of Scipio meant nothing to her. They were barren virtues, too
+unexciting and uninteresting to make any appeal. Her passionate heart
+demanded something more stimulating. And the stimulant she found in
+the savage wooing of his unscrupulous rival.
+
+Now the man's eyes contemplated the girl's ripe beauty, while he
+struggled for that composure necessary to carry out all that was in
+his mind. He checked a further rising impulse, and his voice sounded
+almost harsh as he put a sharp question.
+
+"Where's Zip?" he demanded.
+
+The girl's eyelids slowly lifted. The warm glow of her eyes made them
+limpid and melting.
+
+"Gone out to his claim," she said in a low voice.
+
+The other nodded appreciatively.
+
+"Good."
+
+He turned to the window. Out across the refuse-heaps the rest of the
+camp was huddled together, a squalid collection of huts, uninspiring,
+unpicturesque. His glance satisfied him. There was not a living soul
+in view; not a sound except the prattle of the children who were
+still playing outside the hut. But the latter carried no meaning to
+him. In the heat of the moment even their mother was dead to the
+appeal of their piping voices.
+
+"You're coming away now, Jess," the man went on, making a movement
+towards her.
+
+But the girl drew back. The directness of his challenge was startling,
+and roused in her a belated defensiveness. Going away? It sounded
+suddenly terrible to her, and thrilled her with a rush of fear which
+set her shivering. And yet she knew that all along this--this was the
+end towards which she had been drifting. The rich color faded from her
+cheeks and her lips trembled.
+
+"No, no," she whispered in a terrified tone. For the moment all that
+was best in her rose up and threatened to defeat his end.
+
+But James saw his mistake. For a second a flash of anger lit his eyes,
+and hot resentment flew to his lips. But it found no expression.
+Instead, the anger died out of his eyes, and was replaced by a fire of
+passion such as had always won its way with this girl. He moved
+towards her again with something subtly seductive in his manner, and
+his arms closed about her unresisting form in a caress she was
+powerless to deny. Passive yet palpitating she lay pressed in his
+arms, all her woman's softness, all her subtle perfume, maddening him
+to a frenzy.
+
+"Won't you? I love you, Jessie, so that nothing else on earth counts.
+I can't do without you--I can't--I can't!"
+
+His hot lips crushed against hers, which yielded themselves all too
+willingly. Presently he raised his head, and his eyes held hers.
+"Won't you come, Jess? There's nothing here for you. See, I can give
+you all you wish for: money, a fine home, as homes go hereabouts. My
+ranch is a dandy place, and," with a curious laugh, "stocked with some
+of the best cattle in the country. You'll have horses to ride, and
+dresses--See! You can have all you want. What is there here? Nothing.
+Say, you don't even get enough to eat. Scipio hasn't got more backbone
+in him than to gather five cents when it's raining dollars." He kissed
+her upturned face again, and the warm responsive movement of her lips
+told him how easy his task really was.
+
+But again she pressed him back, so that he held her only at arms'
+length. Her swimming eyes gazed long and ardently into his.
+
+"It isn't that, Jim," she said earnestly; "it isn't that. Those things
+don't count. It's--it's you. I--I don't want dresses. I don't want the
+money. I--I--want you."
+
+Then she started, terrified again.
+
+"But, Jim, why did you come up to this hut?" she cried. "Why didn't
+you wait for me down in the bush at the river, as usual? Oh, Jim, if
+anybody sees you they'll shoot you down like a dog--"
+
+"Dog, eh?" cried the man, with a ringing laugh. "Let 'em try. But
+don't you worry, Jess. No one saw me. Anyway, I don't care a curse if
+they did."
+
+"Oh, Jim!"
+
+Then she nestled closer to him for a moment of passionate silence,
+while he kissed her, prolonging the embrace with all the fire with
+which he was consumed. And after that she spoke again. But now it was
+the mother that would no longer be denied, even in the midst of her
+storm of emotion.
+
+"But I--I can't leave them--the little ones. I can't, I can't!" she
+cried piteously. "Jim, I love you. God knows how badly I love you, but
+I--I love them, too. They are mine. They are part of me, and--and I
+can't do without them. No--no. I can't go--I won't go," she hurried
+on, without conviction. "I can't. I want my babies--my little boy and
+girl. You say you love me. I know you love me. Then take them with us,
+and--and I'll do as you wish. Oh, I'm wicked, I know. I'm wicked, and
+cruel, and vile to leave Scipio. And I don't want to, but--but--oh,
+Jim, say you'll take them, too. I can never be happy without them. You
+can never understand. You are a man, and so strong." He drew her to
+him again, and she nestled close in his arms. "You don't know what it
+is to hear a child's voice, and know that it is part of you, your
+life, one little tiny atom beginning all over again. No, no--I must
+have them."
+
+She slowly drew herself away, watching his handsome face, half
+fearfully, half eagerly. She knew in her heart that she was waiting
+for his verdict, and, whatever it might be, she would have to abide by
+it. She knew she must do as he wished, and that very knowledge
+gladdened her, even in spite of her maternal dread of being parted
+from her babies.
+
+She saw his expression change. She saw the look of perplexity in the
+sudden drawing together of his finely marked brows, she saw the
+half-angry impatience flash into his eyes, she saw this again replaced
+with a half-derisive smile. And each emotion she read in her own way,
+molding it to suit and fall in with her own desires, yet with a
+willing feeling that his decision should be paramount, that she was
+there to obey him.
+
+He slowly shook his head, and a curious hardness set itself about his
+strong mouth.
+
+"Not now," he said. "I would, but it can't be done. See here, Jess,
+I've got two horses hidden away down there in the bush beside the
+creek--one for you, and one for me. We can't fetch those kiddies along
+with us now. It wouldn't be safe, anyhow. We've got sixty-odd miles to
+ride through the foothills. But see, I'll fetch 'em one day, after, if
+you must have 'em. How's that?"
+
+"But they'll never let you," cried Jessie. "The whole camp will be up
+in arms when they know I've gone. You don't know them, Jim. They're
+fond of Zip, and they'll stand by him."
+
+James laughed contemptuously.
+
+"Say, Jess," he cried, "you come right along with me now. And if
+you need those kiddies, not all Suffering Creek--no, nor hell
+itself--shall stop me bringing 'em along to you." Then he chuckled
+in an unpleasant manner. "Say, it would tickle me to death to set
+these mutton-headed gophers jumping around. You'll get those kiddies
+if you need 'em, if I have to blow hell into this mud-heap of a
+city."
+
+Jessie's eyes glowed at the man's note of savage strength and
+confidence. She knew he could and would do as he said, and this very
+fact yielded her to him more surely than any other display could have
+done. It was this wonderful daring, this reckless, savage manhood that
+had originally won her. He was so different from all others, from her
+puny husband. He swept her along and dazzled her. Her own virility
+cried out for such a mate, and no moral scruples could hope to stay so
+strong a tide of nature.
+
+"You'll do it?" she cried fervently. Then she nodded joyously. "Yes,
+yes, you'll do it. I know it. Oh, how good you are to me. I love you,
+Jim."
+
+Again she was in his arms. Again his kisses fell hot and fast upon her
+glowing face. Nature was rushing a strong flood tide. It was a moment
+that could have no repetition in their lives.
+
+They stood thus, locked in each other's arms, borne along by a passion
+that was beyond their control--lost to all the world, lost to all
+those things which should have mattered to them. It was the fervid
+outpouring of two natures which had nothing that was spiritual in
+them. They demanded the life of the senses, and so strong was the
+desire that they were lost to all else.
+
+Then suddenly in the midst of their dream came the disturbing patter
+of small feet and the joyous, innocent laughter of infantile glee. Two
+tiny mud-stained figures rushed at the doorway and fell sprawling into
+the hut. They were on their feet again in a moment, laughing and
+crowing out their delight. Then, as the man and woman sprang apart,
+they stood round-eyed, wondering and gaping.
+
+Jamie and Vada paused only till the grown-up eyes were turned in their
+direction, then their chorus broke out in one breath.
+
+"We got fi' 'piders--"
+
+"An' two bugs!"
+
+The important information was fairly shrieked, to the accompaniment of
+dancing eyes and flushed cheeks.
+
+Jessie gasped. But her emotion was not at the news so rudely broken.
+It was the breaking of the spell which had held her. Just for one
+horrific moment she stood staring helplessly at the innocent picture
+of her four-year-old twins, beautiful in spite of their grimy
+exterior, beautiful as a Heaven-inspired picture to the mother.
+
+The man smiled. Nor was it an unpleasant smile. Perhaps, somewhere in
+his savage composition, he had a grain of humor; perhaps it was only
+the foolish smile of a man whose wits are not equal to so incongruous
+a situation.
+
+"They're most ev'ry color," piped Vada, with added excitement.
+
+"Uh!" grunted Jamie in agreement. "An' the bugs has horns."
+
+But the man had recovered himself. The interruption had brought with
+it a realization of the time he had spent in the hut.
+
+"You'd best go and find more," he said. "There's heaps outside." Then
+he turned to Jessie. "Come on. We must be going. Have you got the
+things you need ready?"
+
+But the mother's eyes were on the small intruders. Something was
+gripping at her heart, and somehow it felt like four small and dirty
+hands.
+
+"Wher' you goin'?" demanded Vada, her childish curiosity roused, and
+all her beautiful spiders forgotten for the moment.
+
+Her question remained unanswered, leaving the room in ominous silence.
+Then Jamie's treble blundered into its midst, dutifully echoing his
+sister's inquiry.
+
+"'Es, wher' you doin'?"
+
+The man's eyes were narrowly watching the woman's face. He noted the
+tremulous lips, the yearning light in her eyes. In a moment he was
+answering the children, lest their innocent words should upset his
+plans.
+
+"Say, your momma's going for a horse-ride. She's just going right out,
+and I'm going to show her a dandy place where she can fetch you, so
+you can catch heaps an' heaps of bugs and spiders. She's just wanting
+you to stop right here and catch more bugs, till I come along and
+fetch you."
+
+"O--oh!" cried Vada, prolonging her exclamation gleefully. "Say, can't
+us go now?"
+
+"Me do too," murmured her faithful shadow.
+
+One quick glance at the mother's face and the man spoke again.
+
+"Not now, kiddies. I'll come and fetch you. Run along." Then he turned
+swiftly upon Jessie. "Where's your bundle?" he asked in his usual
+masterful manner.
+
+And her reply came in a tone of almost heart-broken submission.
+
+"In there," she said, with a glance at the inner room.
+
+The man gave her no time to add anything more. He felt the ground he
+was treading was more than shaky. He knew that with the coming of
+these children a tremendous power was militating against him--a power
+which would need all his wits to combat. He passed into the inner
+room, and returned in a moment with the girl's bundle. And with his
+return one glance showed him how nearly his plans were upset. Jessie
+was clasping Jamie in her arms, kissing him hungrily, tears streaming
+down her cheeks, while, out of sheer sympathy, little Vada was
+clinging to her mother's skirts, her small face buried in amongst
+them, sobbing as though her heart would break.
+
+In a moment he was at her side. This was not a time when any drastic
+methods could serve him, and he adopted the only course which his
+shrewd sense told him would be likely to avail. Gently but firmly he
+took the boy out of her arms.
+
+"You want him to go with us?" he said kindly. "Very well. Maybe we're
+doing wrong--I mean, for his sake. Anyhow, I'll carry him, and then
+I'll come back for Vada. It's not good. It's too hard on him, carrying
+him all that distance--too dangerous. Still, I want you to be happy,
+Jess. I'd do anything for that, even--even at his expense. So--"
+
+"No--no!" cried the mother, carried away by the fear he expressed so
+subtly, and warmed by his carefully expressed sympathy. "Don't take
+any notice of me. I'm foolish--silly. You're right--he--he couldn't
+make the journey with us. No, no, we--won't--take him now. Set him
+down, Jim. I'll go now, and you'll--you'll come back for them. Yes,
+yes, let's go now. I--I can't stay any--longer. I've left a letter for
+Zip. Swear I shall have them both. You'll never--never break your
+word? I think I'd--die without them."
+
+"You shall have them. I swear it." The man spoke readily enough. It
+was so easy to promise anything, so long as he got her.
+
+But his oath brought neither expression of gratitude nor comment. The
+woman was beyond mere words. She felt that only flight could save her
+from breaking down altogether. And, thus impelled, she tore herself
+from the presence of the children and rushed out of the hut. The
+horses were down at the creek, and thither she sped, lest her purpose
+should fail her.
+
+James followed her. He felt that she must not be left by herself to
+think. But at the door he paused and glanced keenly around him. Then
+he breathed a sigh of relief. Not a living soul was to be seen
+anywhere. It was good; his plans had worked out perfectly.
+
+He set Jamie down, and, all unconscious of the little drama being
+played round his young life, the child stretched out a chubby hand in
+the direction of the soap-box he and his sister had been playing
+with.
+
+"'Piders," he observed laconically.
+
+Vada rushed past him to inspect their treasures, her tears already
+dried into streaks on her dirty little cheeks.
+
+"An' bugs," she cried gleefully, squatting beside the box.
+
+They had forgotten.
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+The man hurried away down towards the creek, bearing the pitiful
+bundle of woman's raiment. The girl was ahead, and, as she again came
+into his view, one thought, and one thought only, occupied his mind.
+Jessie was his whole world--at that moment.
+
+He, too, had forgotten.
+
+"They've runned away," cried Vada, peering into the box.
+
+"Me don't like 'piders," murmured Jamie definitely.
+
+Vada's great brown eyes filled with tears. Fresh rivulets began to run
+down the muddy channels on her downy cheeks. Her disappointment found
+vent in great sobbing gulps.
+
+Jamie stared at her in silent speculation. Then one little fat hand
+reached out and pushed her. She rolled over and buried her wet face in
+the dusty ground and howled heart-brokenly. Then Jamie crawled close
+up beside her, and, stretching himself out, wept his sympathy into the
+back of her gaping frock.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE AWAKENING OF SCIPIO
+
+
+At noon the camp began to rouse. The heavy eyes, the languid stretch,
+the unmeaning contemplation of the noontide sunlight, the slow
+struggles of a somnolent brain. These things were suggested in the
+gradual stirring of the place to a ponderous activity. The heavy
+movement of weary diggers as they lounged into camp for their dinner
+had no suggestion of the greedy passion which possessed them. They had
+no lightness. Whatever the lust for gold that consumed them, all their
+methods were characterized by a dogged endeavor which took from them
+every particle of that nervous activity which belongs to the finely
+tempered business man.
+
+The camp was a single row of egregious dwellings, squat, uncouth,
+stretching away on either side of the veranda-fronted store and
+"gambling hell" which formed a sort of center-piece around which
+revolved the whole life of the village. It was a poor, mean place,
+shapeless, evil-smelling in that pure mountain air. It was a mere
+shelter, a rough perch for the human carrion lusting for the orgy of
+gold which the time-worn carcass of earth should yield. What had these
+people to do with comfort or refinement? What had they to do with
+those things calculated to raise the human mind to a higher spiritual
+plane? Nothing. All that might come later, when, their desires
+satisfied, the weary body sick and aching, sends fearful thoughts
+ahead towards the drab sunset awaiting them. For the moment the full
+tide of youth is still running strong. Sickness and death have no
+terrors. The fine strength of powerful bodies will not allow the mind
+to focus such things.
+
+Out of the rugged hills backing the camp the gold-seekers struggle to
+their resting-place. Here, one man comes clambering over the rough
+bowlder-strewn path at the base of a forest-clad hill. Here, an atom
+of humanity emerges from the depths of a vast woodland that dwarfs all
+but the towering hills. Another toils up a steep hillside from the
+sluggish creek. Another slouches along a vague, unmade trail. Yet
+another scrambles his way through a low, dense-growing scrub which
+lines the sides of a vast ravine, the favored locality of the
+gold-seeker.
+
+So they come, one by one, from every direction radiating about the
+building, which is Minky's store. Their faces are hard. Their skin is
+tanned to a leathery hue, and is of a texture akin to hide. They are
+silent, thoughtful men, too. But their silence is of the vast world in
+which they delve, and their thought is the thought of men absorbed in
+their quest. No, there is no lightness, even in their happiest
+moments. To be light, an intelligent swiftness of brain is needed. And
+these derelicts have little of such. Although, when Minky's spirit has
+circulated its poison through their veins, they are sometimes apt to
+assume a burlesque of it.
+
+Now the camp is wide awake. But it is only the wakefulness of the
+mother who is roused by the hungry crying of her infant. It will
+slumber again when appetites have been duly appeased.
+
+The milk of human kindness is soured by the intense summer heat. The
+men are "grouchy." They jostle harshly as they push up to Minky's
+counter for the "appetizers" they do not need. Their greetings are
+few, and mostly confined to the abrupt demand, "Any luck?" Then, their
+noon-day drink gulped down, they slouch off into the long, frowsy
+dining-room at the back of the store, and coarsely devour the rough
+fare provided by the buxom Birdie Mason, who is at once the kindliest
+and worst caterer imaginable.
+
+This good-natured soul's position was not as enviable as one might
+reasonably have supposed. The only woman in a camp of men, any one of
+whom might reasonably strike a fortune in five minutes. The situation
+suggests possibilities. But, alas, Birdie was just a woman, and, in
+consequence, from a worldly point of view, her drawbacks were many.
+She was attractive--a drawback. She was given to a natural desire to
+stand first with all men--another drawback. She was eminently
+sentimental--a still greater drawback. But greatest of all she was a
+sort of public servant in her position as caterer, and, as such, of
+less than no account from the moment the "beast" had been satisfied.
+
+She had her moments, moments when the rising good-nature of her
+customers flattered her, when she was fussed over, and petted, as men
+are ever ready to treat an attractive member of the opposite sex. But
+these things led nowhither, from a point of view of worldly advantage,
+and, being just a woman, warm-hearted, uncalculating and profoundly
+illogical, she failed to realize the pitfalls that lay before her, the
+end which, all unsuspecting, she was steadily forging towards.
+
+Scipio, like the rest, came into camp for his dinner. His way lay
+along the bank of the creek. It was cooler here, and, until he neared
+his home, there were no hills up which to drag his weary limbs. He had
+had, as usual, an utterly unprofitable morning amidst the greasy ooze
+of his claim. Yet the glitter of the mica-studded quartz on the
+hillside, the bright-green and red-brown shading of the milky-white
+stone still dazzled his mental sight. There was no wavering in his
+belief. These toilsome days were merely the necessary probation for
+the culminating achievement. He assured himself that gold lay hidden
+there. And it was only waiting for the lucky strike of his pick. He
+would find it. It was just a matter of keeping on.
+
+In his simple mind he saw wonderful visions of all that final
+discovery. He dreamt of the day when he should be able to install his
+beautiful Jessie in one of those up-town palaces in New York; when an
+army of servants should anticipate her every desire; when the twins
+should be launched upon the finest academies the country possessed, to
+gorge their young minds to the full with all that which the minds of
+the children of earth's most fortunate must be stored. He saw his
+Jessie clad in gowns which displayed and enhanced all those beauties
+with which his devoted mind endowed her. She should not only be his
+queen, but the queen of a social world, which, to his mind, had no
+rival. And the happiness of such dreams was beyond compare. His labor
+became the work of a love which stimulated his puny muscles to a pitch
+which carried him beyond the feeling of any weariness. For himself he
+wanted nothing. For Jessie and the twins the world was not great
+enough as a possession.
+
+And was she not worth it? Were they not worth it? Look at her, so
+splendid! How she bore with him and all his petty, annoying ways! Her
+disposition was not of this earth, he told himself. Would any other
+woman put up with his ill-humors, his shortcomings? He realized how
+very trying he must be to any bright, clever woman. He was not clever,
+and he knew it, and it made him pity Jessie for the lot he had brought
+her to.
+
+And the twins. Vada was the image of her mother. The big, round, brown
+eyes, the soft, childish mouth, the waving brown hair. And Jamie. He
+had her eyes, too, and her nose, and her beautiful coloring. What a
+mercy of Providence neither of them resembled him. But, then, how
+could they, with such a mother? How it delighted him to think that he
+was working for them, for her. A thrill of delight swept over him,
+and added a spring to his jaded step. What mattered anything else in
+the world. He was to give them all that which the world counted as
+good. He, alone.
+
+But it was not yet. For a moment a shadow crossed his radiant face as
+he toiled up the hill to his hut. It was gone in a moment, however.
+How could it stay there with his thought gilded with such high hopes?
+It was not yet, but it would come--must come. His purpose was
+invincible. He must conquer and wrench this wealth which he demanded
+from the bosom of the hard old earth. And then--and then--
+
+"Hello, kiddies," he cried cheerily, as his head rose above the
+hilltop and his hut and the two children, playing outside it, came
+into his view.
+
+"Pop-pa!" shrieked Vada, dropping a paper full of loose dirt and
+stones upon her sprawling brother's back, in her haste to reach her
+diminutive parent.
+
+"Uh!" grunted Jamie, scrambling to his feet and tottering heavily in
+the same direction.
+
+There was a curious difference in the size and growth of these twins.
+Probably it utterly escaped the adoring eyes of their father. He only
+saw the reflected glory of their mother in them. Their resemblance to
+her was all that really mattered to him, but, as a matter of fact,
+this resemblance lay chiefly in Vada. She was like her mother in an
+extraordinary degree. She was well-grown, strong, and quite in advance
+of her years, in her speech and brightness of intellect. Little Jamie,
+while he possessed much of his mother in his face, in body was
+under-sized and weakly, and his mind and speech, backward of
+development, smacked of his father. He was absolutely dominated by his
+sister, and followed her lead in everything with adoring rapture.
+
+Vada reached her father and scrambled agilely up into his work-soiled
+arms. She impulsively hugged his yellow head to her cheeks with both
+her arms, so that when Jamie came up he had to content himself by
+similarly hugging the little man's left knee, and kissing the
+mud-stains on his trousers into liquid patches.
+
+But Scipio was impartial. He sat Vada down and picked her brother up.
+Then, taking the former's hand in his horny clasp, bore the boy
+towards the house.
+
+"You found any gold?" inquired Vada, repeating a question she had so
+often heard her mother put.
+
+"'Es any--dold?" echoed Jamie, from his height above Scipio's head.
+
+"No, kiddies," the man replied, with a slight sigh.
+
+"Oh," said Vada. But his answer had little significance for her.
+
+"Where's your momma?" inquired Scipio, after a pause.
+
+"Momma do hoss-ridin'," replied Jamie, forestalling his sister for
+once.
+
+"Yes," added Vada. "She gone ridin'. An' they'll come an' take us
+wher' ther's heaps an' heaps o' 'piders, an'--an' bugs an' things. He
+said so--sure."
+
+"He? Who?"
+
+They had reached the hut and Scipio set Jamie on the ground as he put
+his question.
+
+"The dark man," said Vada readily, but wrinkling her forehead
+struggling for the name.
+
+"Uh!" agreed Jamie. "Mister Dames."
+
+Just for a moment a sharp question lit Scipio's pale eyes. But the
+little ones had no understanding of it. And the next moment, as their
+father passed in through the doorway, they turned to the sand and
+stone castle they had been laboriously and futilely attempting to mold
+into some shape.
+
+"Now you bring up more stones," cried Vada authoritatively. "Run
+along, dear," she added patronizingly, as the boy stood with his small
+hands on his hips, staring vacantly after his father.
+
+Scipio gazed stupidly about the living-room. The slop-stained table
+was empty. The cookstove fire was out. And, just for a second, the
+thought flashed through his mind--had he returned too early for his
+dinner? No, he knew he had not. It was dinner-time all right. His
+appetite told him that.
+
+For the moment he had forgotten what the children had told him. His
+simple nature was not easily open to suspicion, therefore, like all
+people of slow brain, this startling break in the routine of his daily
+life simply set him wondering. He moved round the room, and, without
+being aware of his purpose, lifted the curtain of turkey red, which
+served as a door to the rough larder, and peered in. Then, as he let
+the curtain fall again, something stirred within him. He turned
+towards the inner room, and his mild voice called--
+
+"Jess."
+
+His answer was a hollow echo that somehow jarred his nerves. But he
+called again--
+
+"Jess."
+
+Again came the echo. Then Vada's small face appeared round the
+door-casing.
+
+"Mom-ma gone hoss-ridin'," she reminded him.
+
+For an instant Scipio's face flushed. Then it paled icily under its
+tan. His brain was struggling to grasp something which seemed to be
+slowly enveloping him, but which his honest heart would not let him
+believe. He stared stupidly at Vada's dirty face. Then, as the child
+withdrew to her play, he suddenly crossed the room to the curtained
+bedroom doorway. He passed through, and the flimsy covering fell to
+behind him.
+
+For a space the music of childish voices was the only sound to break
+the stillness. The hum of buzzing insects seemed to intensify the
+summer heat. For minutes no movement came from the bedroom. It was
+like the dread silence before a storm.
+
+A strange sound came at last. It was something between a moan and the
+pained cry of some mild-spirited animal stricken to death. It had no
+human semblance, and yet--it came from behind the dingy print curtain
+over the bedroom doorway.
+
+A moment later the curtain stirred and the ghastly face of Scipio
+suddenly appeared. He moved out into the living-room and almost fell
+into the Windsor chair which had last been occupied by his wife. A
+sheet of notepaper was in his shaking hand, and his pale eyes were
+staring vacantly at it. He was not reading. He had read. And that
+which he had read had left him dazed and scarcely comprehending. He
+sat thus for many minutes. And not once did he stir a muscle, or lift
+his eyes from their fixed contemplation.
+
+A light breeze set the larder curtain fluttering. Scipio started. He
+stared round apprehensively. Then, as though drawn by a magnet, his
+eyes came back to the letter in his hand, and once more fixed
+themselves upon the bold handwriting. But this time there was
+intelligence in his gaze. There was intelligence, fear, despair,
+horror; every painful emotion was struggling for uppermost place in
+mind and heart. He read again carefully, slowly, as though trying to
+discover some loophole from the horror of what was written there. The
+note was short--so short--there was not one spark of hope in it for
+the man who was reading it, not one expression of feeling other than
+selfishness. It was the death-blow to all his dreams, all his desire.
+
+  "I've gone away. I shall never come back. I can't stand this life
+  here any longer. Don't try to find me, for it's no use. Maybe what
+  I'm doing is wicked, but I'm glad I'm doing it. It's not your
+  fault--it's just me. I haven't your courage, I haven't any courage
+  at all. I just can't face the life we're living. I'd have gone
+  before when he first asked me but for my babies, but I just
+  couldn't part with them. Zip, I want to take them with me now, but
+  I don't know what Jim's arrangements are going to be. I must have
+  them. I can't live without them. And if they don't go with us now
+  you'll let them come to me after, won't you? Oh, Zip, I know I'm a
+  wicked woman, but I feel I must go. You won't keep them from me?
+  Let me have them. I love them so bad. I do. I do. Good-by
+  forever.
+
+                                                           "JESSIE."
+
+Mechanically Scipio folded the paper again and sat grasping it tightly
+in one clenched hand. His eyes were raised and gazing through the
+doorway at the golden sunlight beyond. His lips were parted, and there
+was a strange dropping of his lower jaw. The tanning of his russet
+face looked like a layer of dirt upon a super-whited skin. He scarcely
+seemed to breathe, so still he sat. As yet his despair was so terrible
+that his mind and heart were numbed to a sort of stupefaction,
+deadening the horror of his pain.
+
+He sat on for many minutes. Then, at last, his eyes dropped again to
+the crushed paper, and a quavering sigh escaped him. He half rose from
+his seat, but fell back in it again. Then a sudden spasm seized him,
+and flinging himself round he reached out his slight, tanned arms upon
+the dirty table, and, his head dropping upon them, he moaned out the
+full force of his despair.
+
+"I want her!" he cried. "Oh, God, I want her!"
+
+But now his slight body was no longer still. His back heaved with mute
+sobs that had no tears. All his gentle soul was torn and bleeding. He
+had not that iron in his composition with which another man might have
+crushed down his feelings and stirred himself to a harsh defense. He
+was just a warm, loving creature of no great strength beyond his
+capacity for human affection and self-sacrifice. And for the time at
+least, his sufferings were beyond his control.
+
+In the midst of his grief two little faces, and two pairs of round,
+wondering eyes appeared in the doorway. Two small infantile minds
+worked hard at the sight they beheld. Vada, whose quickness of
+perception was so much in advance of her brother's, murmured in his
+ear--
+
+"Sleep."
+
+"Uh, seep," nodded the faithful boy.
+
+Then four little bare feet began to creep into the room. Four big
+brown eyes shone with gleeful anticipation. Four chubby arms were
+outstretched as though claiming the victim of their childish prank.
+Vada led, but Jamie was close behind. They stole in, their small feet
+making not the slightest sound as they tiptoed towards the stricken
+man. Each, thrilling with excitement, was desperately intent upon
+frightening him.
+
+"Boo-h!" cried Vada, her round eyes sparkling as she reached Scipio's
+side.
+
+"Bo-oh!" echoed Jamie a second later, chuckling and gurgling a delight
+he had no other means of expressing at the moment.
+
+Scipio raised his haggard face. His unsmiling eyes, so pale and
+unmeaning, stared stupidly at the children. And suddenly the merry
+smile died out of the young faces, and an odd contraction of their
+brows suggested a dawning sympathy which came wholly from the heart.
+
+"You'se cryin', poppa," cried Vada impulsively.
+
+"Uh," nodded the boy.
+
+And thereupon great tears welled up into their sympathetic eyes, and
+the twins wept in chorus. And somehow the tears, which had thus far
+been denied the man, now slowly and painfully flooded his eyes. He
+groped the two children into his arms, and buried his face in the
+soft wavy hair which fell in a tangle about the girl's head.
+
+For some moments he sat thus, something of his grief easing in the
+flood of almost womanish tears. Until, finally, it was Jamie who saved
+the situation. His sobs died out abruptly, and the boy in him
+stirred.
+
+"Me want t' eat," he protested, without preamble.
+
+The man looked up.
+
+"Eat?" he echoed vaguely.
+
+"Yes. Dinner," explained Vada, whose tears were still flowing, but who
+never failed as her little brother's interpreter.
+
+There was a moment's pause while Scipio stared down at the two
+faces lifted so appealingly to his. Then a change came into his
+expressionless eyes. A smoldering fire began to burn, which seemed
+to deepen their weakly coloring. His drawn face seemed to gather
+strength. And somehow even his straw-colored hair, so scanty,
+ill-grown and disheveled, looked less like the stubble it so much
+resembled. It was almost as though a latent, unsuspected strength
+were rousing within him, lifting him from the slough of despair by
+which he was so nearly submerged. It was as though the presence of
+his twins had drawn from him an acknowledgment of his duty, a sense
+which was so strongly and incongruously developed in his otherwise
+uncertain character, and demanded of him a sacrifice of all personal
+inclination. They were her children. Yes, and they were his. Her
+children--her children. And she was gone. They had no one to look
+to, no one to care for them now, but--him.
+
+He sprang to his feet.
+
+"Why, yes, kiddies," he said, with a painful assumption of lightness.
+"You're needing food sure. Say, I guess we won't wait for your momma.
+We'll just hand her an elegant surprise. We'll get dinner ourselves."
+
+Jamie gurgled his joyous approval, but Vada was more intelligible.
+
+"Bully!" she cried. "We'll give her a surprise." Then she turned to
+Jamie. "Surprise is when folks do things that other folks don't guess
+you're going to, dear," she explained, to his utter confusion.
+
+Scipio went to the larder and gathered various scraps of food, and
+plates, and anything that seemed to him as being of any possible use
+in a meal. He re-kindled the fire in the cookstove and made some
+coffee. That he understood. There was no sign of his despair about him
+now. Perhaps he was more than usually silent, but otherwise, for the
+time at least, he had buried his trouble sufficiently deeply out of
+sight, so that at any rate the inquiring eyes of the happy children
+could see nothing of it.
+
+They, too, busied themselves in the preparation. Vada dictated to her
+father with never flagging tongue, and Jamie carried everything he
+could lift to and fro, regardless of whether he was bringing or taking
+away. Vada chid him in her childishly superior way, but her efforts
+were quite lost on his delicious self-importance. Nor could there be
+any doubt that, in his infantile mind, he was quite assured that his
+services were indispensable.
+
+At last the meal was ready. There was nearly everything of which the
+household consisted upon the table or in close proximity to it. Then,
+when at last they sat down, and Scipio glanced over the strange
+conglomeration, his conscience was smitten.
+
+"Seems to me you kiddies need bread and milk," he said ruefully. "But
+I don't guess there's any milk."
+
+Vada promptly threw herself into the breach.
+
+"On'y Jamie has bread an' milk, pop-pa. Y'see his new teeth ain't
+through. Mine is. You best cut his up into wee bits."
+
+"Sure, of course," agreed Scipio in relief. "I'll get along down to
+Minky's for milk after," he added, while he obediently proceeded to
+cut up the boy's meat.
+
+It was a strange meal. There was something even tragic in it. The
+children were wildly happy in the thought that they had shared in this
+wonderful surprise for their mother. That they had assisted in those
+things which childhood ever yearns to share in--the domestic doings of
+their elders.
+
+The man ate mechanically. His body told him to eat, and so he ate
+without knowing or caring what. His distraught mind was traveling
+swiftly through the barren paths of hopelessness and despair, while
+yet he had to keep his children in countenance under their fire of
+childish prattle. Many times he could have flung aside his mask and
+given up, but the babyish laughter held him to an effort such as he
+had never before been called upon to make.
+
+When the meal was finished Scipio was about to get up from his chair,
+but Vada's imperious tongue stayed him.
+
+"We ain't said grace," she declared complainingly.
+
+And the man promptly dropped back into his seat.
+
+"Sure," he agreed helplessly.
+
+At once the girl put her finger-tips together before her nose and
+closed her eyes.
+
+"Thank God for my good dinner, Amen, and may we help fix up after?"
+she rattled off.
+
+"Ess," added Jamie, "tank Dod for my dood dinner, Amen, me fix up,
+too."
+
+And with this last word both children tumbled almost headlong from the
+bench which they were sharing. Nor had their diminutive parent the
+heart to deny their request.
+
+The next hour was perhaps one of the hardest in Scipio's life. Nothing
+could have impressed his hopeless position upon him more than the
+enthusiastic assistance so cordially afforded him. While the children
+had no understanding of their father's grief, while with every
+heart-beat they glowed with a loving desire to be his help, their
+every act was an unconscious stab which drove him until he could have
+cried aloud in agony.
+
+And it was a period of catastrophe. Little Vada scalded her hand and
+had to be petted back to her normal condition of sunny smiles. Jamie
+broke one of the few plates, and his tears had to be banished by
+assurances that it did not matter, and that he had done his father a
+kindness by ridding him of such an ugly plate. Then Vada stumbled into
+the garbage pail and had to be carefully wiped, while Jamie smeared
+his sparse hair with rancid dripping and insisted he was "Injun,"
+vociferously proclaiming his desire to "talp" his sister.
+
+But the crowning disaster came when he attempted to put his threat
+into execution. He seized a bunch of her hair in his two chubby hands
+and began to drag her round the room. Her howls drew Scipio's
+attention from his work, and he turned to find them a struggling heap
+upon the floor. He dashed to part them, kicked over a bucket of
+drinking water in his well-meant hurry, and, finally, had to rescue
+them, both drenched to the skin, from the untimely bath.
+
+There was nothing for it but to strip off all their clothes and dress
+them up in their nightgowns, for as yet he had no knowledge of their
+wardrobe, and send them out to get warm in the sun, while he dried
+their day-clothes at the cookstove.
+
+It was the climax. The man flung himself into a chair and buried his
+face in his hands. The mask had dropped from him. There was no longer
+any need for pretense. Once more the grief and horror of his disaster
+broke through his guard and left him helpless. The whole world, his
+life, everything was engulfed in an abyss of black despair.
+
+He was dry-eyed and desperate. But now somehow his feelings contained
+an emotion that the first shock of his loss had not brought him. He
+was no longer a prey to a weak, unresisting submission, the grief of
+a tortured gentle heart. There was another feeling. A feeling of anger
+and resentment which slowly grew with each moment, and sent the hot
+blood surging furiously to his brain. Nor was this feeling directed
+against Jessie. How could it be? He loved her so that her cruel
+desertion of him appeared to be a matter for which he was chiefly to
+blame. Yes, he understood. He was not the husband for her. How could
+it be otherwise? He had no cleverness. He had always been a failure.
+No, his anger was not against Jessie. It was the other. It was the man
+who had robbed him of all he cared for in the world.
+
+His anger grew hotter and hotter. And with this growing passion there
+came an absolute revulsion of the motive force that had always
+governed him. He wanted to hurt. He wanted to hurt this man, Lord
+James. And his simple mind groped for a means to carry out his desire.
+He began to think more quickly and clearly, and the process brought
+him a sort of cold calmness. Again his grief was thrust out of his
+focus, and all his mental energy was concentrated upon his desire. And
+he conjured up a succession of pictures of the tortures and sufferings
+he desired for this villain who had so wronged him.
+
+But the pictures were too feeble and wholly inadequate to satisfy. So
+gentle was his nature, that, even stirred as he was, he could not
+conceive a fitting punishment for so great an offense. He felt his own
+inadequacy, his own feebleness to cope with the problem before him,
+and so he sat brooding impotently.
+
+It was all useless. And as the minutes slipped by his anger began to
+die out, merging once more into the all-absorbing grief that underlay
+it. He was alone. Alone! He would never see her again. The thought
+chilled him to a sudden nervous dread. No, no, it was not possible.
+She would come back. She must come back. Yes, yes. She was his
+Jessie. His beautiful Jessie. She belonged to him. And the children.
+She loved them. How she loved them. They were theirs. Yes, she would
+come back. Maybe she would come back at supper-time. She would
+understand by then. Because she was good, and--and kind, and--No, no,
+Fate could never be so cruel as to take her from him.
+
+He rose and paced the floor with nervous, uneven strides. He plunged
+his hand into his coat pocket and drew out the letter again. He
+re-read it, with hot eyes and straining thought. Every word seemed to
+sear itself upon his poor brain, and drive him to the verge of
+distraction. Why? Why? And he raised his bloodshot eyes to the roof of
+his hut, and crushed the paper in one desperate hand.
+
+Then suddenly he started. His pale eyes took on a furtive frightened
+expression. He glanced fearfully round the room as though someone was
+in hiding to surprise his inspiration. Yes, that was it. Why not? He
+was not afraid. He was afraid of no one. Yes, yes, he had the means.
+He must make the opportunity. She was his. No one else had a right to
+her. It was justifiable. It was no more than justice.
+
+He moved towards the inner room. He was less furtive now. His purpose
+had startled him at first, but now he was convinced it was right. To a
+man of his character his resolve once taken there was only one thing
+to do--to carry it out.
+
+He passed into the bedroom, and, in a few moments, reappeared. Now he
+was bearing something in his hand. He held it carefully, and in his
+eyes was something like terror of what he held. The thing he carried
+was an old-fashioned revolver. It was rusty. But it had a merciless
+look about it. He turned it up gingerly. Then he opened the breach,
+and loaded all the six chambers. Then he carefully bestowed it in his
+coat pocket, where it bulged obtrusively.
+
+Now he moved to the open doorway, and somehow his original furtiveness
+had returned to him. Here he paused as the voice of the twins reached
+and held him. They were still playing in the sun, banking up the sand
+and stones in their futile attempt at castle building. He breathed
+hard, as though summoning up all his decision. Then he spoke.
+
+"Say, kiddies," he said firmly. "I'll be right back at supper."
+
+And he moved out without another look in their direction, and walked
+off in the direction of Minky's store.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+SCIPIO BORROWS A HORSE
+
+
+Scipio found an almost deserted camp after floundering his way over
+the intricate paths amongst the refuse-heaps.
+
+The miners had departed to their claims with a punctuality that
+suggested Trades Union principles. Such was their existence. They ate
+to live; they lived to work, ever tracking the elusive metal to the
+earth's most secret places. The camp claimed them only when their
+day's work was done; for the rest, it supported only their most urgent
+needs.
+
+Sunny Oak, lounging on a rough bench in the shadiest part of the
+veranda facing Minky's store, raised a pair of heavy eyelids, to
+behold a dejected figure emerge from amidst the "dumps." The figure
+was bearing towards the store in a dusty cloud which his trailing feet
+raised at every step. His eyes opened wider, and interested thought
+stirred in his somnolent brain. He recognized the figure and wondered.
+Scipio should have been out on his claim by this time, like the rest.
+
+The lean long figure of the lounger propped itself upon its elbow.
+Curiously enough, lazy as he was, the smallest matter interested him.
+Had he suddenly discovered a beetle moving on the veranda he would
+have found food for reflection in its doings. Such was his mind. A
+smile stole into his indolent eyes, a lazy smile which spoke of
+tolerant good-humor. He turned so that his voice might carry in
+through the window which was just behind him.
+
+"Say, Bill," he cried, "here's Zip comin' down the trail."
+
+As though his announcement were sufficient to rouse an equal interest
+in those inside the store, he returned again to his contemplation of
+the approaching figure.
+
+"What's he doin' around camp this hour?" inquired a harsh voice from
+beyond the window.
+
+"Guess I ain't a lightnin' calc'lator," observed Sunny, without
+withdrawing his gaze.
+
+"Nope," came the prompt retort from the invisible speaker; "guess it
+'ud keep you busy trackin' a fun'ral."
+
+"Which don't need contradiction! I'm kind o' makin' holiday these
+times. Guess you ain't never heerd tell o' the 'rest cure'?"
+
+A rough laugh broke on the drowsy atmosphere.
+
+"Sunny's overworked just now," said another voice, amidst the rattle
+of poker chips.
+
+"Wher' you bin workin', Sunny?" inquired the harsh voice of the man
+addressed as Bill.
+
+"Workin'!" cried the loafer, with good-natured scorn. "Say, I don't
+never let a hobby interfere with the bizness of life."
+
+A half-smothered laugh answered him. Even the exigencies of a poker
+hand could not quite crush out the natural humor of these men, who
+always followed on the golden trail of the pioneers.
+
+"Say, what's your bizness?" demanded another voice presently.
+
+"Restin'!" the man on the veranda answered easily.
+
+The shuffle of cards and rattle of chips came with a snigger. And the
+answering lazy smile of Sunny Oak was good to see. It lit his unshaven
+face from his unwashed brow to his chin. And to an onlooker it might
+well have appeared a pity that an intense bodily indolence should so
+dominate his personality. He looked vastly capable, both mentally and
+physically.
+
+But his eyes never left the on-coming Scipio. The little man moved
+with bowed head and trailing footsteps. The utter dispiritedness of
+his gait stirred even the self-centered watcher. But Scipio saw
+nothing of Sunny Oak. He saw nothing of anything but the despairing
+picture in his own mind. The ramshackle shanties which lined one side
+of the trail were passed unheeded. The yapping of the camp dogs at the
+unusual sight of so deplorable a figure at this hour of the day was
+quite unnoticed by him. The shelving rise of attenuated grassland
+which blocked the view of Suffering Creek on his left never for a
+moment came into his focus. His eyes were on the trail ahead of him,
+and never more than a few feet from where he trod. And those eyes were
+hot and staring, aching with their concentration upon the hideous
+picture which filled his brain.
+
+As Scipio drew near Sunny Oak further bestirred himself, which was a
+concession not often yielded by that individual to anyone. He sat up,
+and his smile broadened. Then it faded out as he beheld the usually
+mild expression of the yellow-haired prospector now so set and
+troubled.
+
+"Gee!" he murmured in an undertone. Then, with an evident effort, he
+offered a greeting.
+
+"Ho, you, Zip! Drawn a blank way up ther' on your mudbank?"
+
+Scipio looked up in a dazed fashion. Then he halted and seemed to pull
+himself together. Finally he spoke.
+
+"Howdy?" he said in a mechanical sort of way.
+
+"Guess I'm a heap better," responded Sunny, with twinkling eyes.
+
+Scipio gazed up at the store in a bewildered way. He saw the great
+letters in which Minky's name and occupation were inscribed on its
+pretentious front, and it seemed to bring back his purpose to his
+distracted mind. Instantly the other's words became intelligible to
+him, and his native kindliness prompted him.
+
+"You been sick?" he demanded.
+
+"Wal, not rightly sick, but--ailin'." Sunny's smile broadened till a
+mouthful of fairly decent teeth showed through the fringe of his
+ragged mustache.
+
+"Ailin'?"
+
+"Yep. Guess I bin overdoin' it."
+
+"It don't do, working too hard in the heat," said Scipio absently.
+
+"Sure," replied Sunny. "It's been a hard job avoidin' it. Ther's allus
+folk ready to set me workin'. That's just the way o' things. What I
+need is rest. Say, you ain't workin'?"
+
+Scipio started.
+
+"No. I'm looking for Wild Bill."
+
+Sunny Oak jerked his head backwards in the direction of the window.
+
+"Guess he's at work--in ther'."
+
+"Thanks."
+
+Scipio mounted the veranda and passed along to the door of the store.
+Sunny's eyes followed him, but he displayed no other interest. With
+ears and brain alert, however, he waited. He knew that all he required
+to know would reach him through a channel that was quite effortless to
+himself. Again he stretched himself out on the bench, and his
+twinkling eyes closed luxuriously.
+
+Minky's store was very little different from other places of its kind.
+He sold everything that could possibly be needed in a newly started
+mining camp. He did not confine himself to hardware and clothing and
+canned goods, but carried a supply of drugs, stationery and general
+dry goods, besides liquor in ample quantities, if of limited quality.
+There was rye whisky, there was gin, and there was some sort of French
+brandy. The two latter were in the smallest quantities. Rye was the
+staple drink of the place.
+
+The walls of the store were lined with shelves on every side, and the
+shelves were full, even overflowing to a piled-up confusion of goods
+which were stacked around on the floor. In the somewhat limited
+floor-space there were tables and benches which could be used for the
+dual purpose of drink and cards. But wherein Minky's store was
+slightly out of the usual was the fact that he was not a Jew, and
+adopted no Jewish methods of trading. He was scrupulously honest with
+his customers, and fairly moderate in his charges, relying on this
+uncommon integrity and temperateness of disposition to make personal
+liking the basis of his commercial success.
+
+It was perhaps a much further-sighted policy than one would suppose.
+Several men had endeavored to start in the store business in
+opposition to him, but in each case their enterprise had proved an
+utter failure. Not a man in the place would trade elsewhere. Minky was
+just "Minky," whom they liked and trusted. And, what was much more to
+the point, who was ever ready to "trust" them.
+
+Wild Bill was at the poker table with Minky, Sandy Joyce and Toby
+Jenks when Scipio entered the place. He was a gambler out and out. It
+was his profession. He was known as Wild Bill of Abilene, a man whose
+past was never inquired into by even the most youthful newcomer,
+whose present was a thing that none ever saw sufficient reason to
+question, and whose future suggested nothing so much as the general
+uncertainty of things human. He was a man of harsh exterior and,
+apparently, harsh purpose. His eyes were steely and his tongue
+ironical; he possessed muscles of iron and a knowledge of poker and
+all its subtleties that had never yet failed him. He was a dead
+shot with a pistol, and, in consequence, fear and respect were laid
+at his feet by his fellow-townsmen. He was also Minky's most
+treasured friend.
+
+Sandy Joyce had to his credit a married past, which somehow gave him a
+certain authority in the place. He was expected to possess a fund of
+wisdom in matters worldly, and he did his best to live up to this
+demand. He was also, by the way, an ex-cowpuncher suffering from gold
+fever, and between whiles played poker with Wild Bill until he had
+lost the result of his more regular labors. He was a slight, tall,
+bright-eyed man of thirty, with an elaborate flow of picturesque
+language. He was afraid of no man, but all women.
+
+Toby Jenks was as short and squat as his friends were long and thin.
+He was good-tempered, and spent large remittances which reached him at
+regular intervals in the lulls which occurred in his desultory search
+for gold.
+
+Minky, a plain, large man of blunt speech and gruff manners, looked up
+swiftly as Scipio entered, and a moment later three more pairs of eyes
+were fixed inquiringly upon the newcomer.
+
+"Struck color?" inquired Minky, with his gruffest cordiality.
+
+"No."
+
+Scipio's entire attitude had distinctly undergone a change since Sunny
+Oak's lazy eyes first discovered his approach. Where before the
+hopelessness of despair had looked out from every line of his mild
+face, now his mouth was set obstinately, and a decided thrust to his
+usually retiring chin became remarkable. Even his wispy hair had an
+aggression in the manner in which it obtruded from under the brim of
+his slouch hat. His eyes were nearly defiant, yet there was pleading
+in them, too. It was as if he were sure of the rightness of his
+purpose, but needed encouragement in its execution.
+
+For the moment the poker game was stopped, a fact which was wholly due
+to the interest of the steely eyes of Wild Bill.
+
+"Layin' off?" inquired the gambler, without a moment's softening.
+
+"Guess you're passin' on that mud lay-out of yours," suggested Sandy,
+with a laugh.
+
+Scipio shook his head, and his lips tightened.
+
+"No. I want to borrow a good horse from Bill here."
+
+The gambler set down the cards he had been shuffling. The statement
+seemed to warrant his action. He sat back in his chair and bit a chew
+of tobacco off a black plug. Minky and the others sat round and stared
+at the little man with unfeigned interest.
+
+"You're needin' a hoss?" demanded Bill, without attempting to disguise
+his surprise. "What for?"
+
+Scipio drew a hand across his brow; a beady sweat had broken out upon
+it.
+
+"Oh, nothing to bother folk with," he said, with a painful attempt at
+indifference. "I've got to hunt around and find that feller, 'Lord'
+James."
+
+A swift glance flashed round the table from eye to eye. Then Sunny
+Oak's voice reached them from beyond the window--
+
+"Guess you've a goodish ways to travel."
+
+"Time enough," said Scipio doggedly.
+
+"What you need to find him for?" demanded Wild Bill, and there was a
+change in the glitter of his fierce eyes. It was not that they
+softened, only now they had the suggestion of an ironical smile,
+which, in him, implied curiosity.
+
+Scipio shifted his feet uneasily. His pale eyes wandered to the sunlit
+window. One hand was thrust in his jacket pocket, and the fingers of
+it fidgeted with the rusty metal of the gun that bulged its sides.
+This pressure of interrogation was upsetting the restraint he was
+putting on himself. All his grief and anger were surging uppermost
+again. With a big effort, which was not lost upon his shrewd audience,
+he choked down his rising emotion.
+
+"Oh, I--I'd like to pay him a 'party call,'" he blurted out.
+
+Minky was about to speak, but Wild Bill kept him silent with a sharp
+glance. An audible snigger came from beyond the window.
+
+"Guess you know jest wher' you'll locate him?" inquired the gambler.
+
+"No, but I'm going to find him, sure," replied Scipio doggedly. Then
+he added, with his eyes averted, "Guess I shan't let up till I do."
+
+There was a weak sparkle in the little man's eyes.
+
+"What's your game?" rasped Bill curiously.
+
+"Oh, just nothin'."
+
+The reply caused a brief embarrassed pause. Then the gambler broke it
+with characteristic force.
+
+"An' fer that reason you're--carryin' a gun," he said, pointing at the
+man's bulging pocket.
+
+Sandy Joyce ceased stacking his "chips"; Toby squared his broad
+shoulders and drained an already empty glass. Minky blinked his
+astonishment, while Wild Bill thrust his long legs out and aggressively
+pushed his hat back on his head. It was at that moment that curiosity
+overcame Sunny Oak's habitual indolence, and his face appeared over
+the window-sill.
+
+"He's stole from me," said Scipio in a low tone.
+
+"What's he stole?" demanded the gambler savagely.
+
+"My wife."
+
+The stillness of the room remained unbroken for some moments. Actions
+came far easier to these men than mere words. Scipio's words had a
+paralyzing effect upon their powers of speech, and each was busy with
+thoughts which they were powerless to interpret into words. "Lord"
+James was a name they had reason to hate. It was a name synonymous
+with theft, and even worse--to them. He had stolen from their
+community, which was unforgivable, but this--this was something new to
+them, something which did not readily come into their focus. Wild Bill
+was the first to recover himself.
+
+"How d'you know?" he asked.
+
+"She wrote telling me."
+
+"She went 'cos she notioned it?" inquired Sandy.
+
+"He's stole her--he's stole my Jessie," said Scipio sullenly.
+
+"An' you're goin' to fetch her back?" Bill's question whipped the
+still air.
+
+"Sure--she's mine."
+
+Scipio's simplicity and single-mindedness brought forth a sigh of
+intense feeling from his hearers.
+
+"How?" Wild Bill's method of interrogation had a driving effect.
+
+"She's mine, an'--I'm going to get her back." There was pity at the
+man's obstinate assertion in every eye except Wild Bill's.
+
+"Say, Zip, he'll kill you," said the gambler, after a pause.
+
+"She's my wife. She's mine," retorted Scipio intensely. "An' I'll
+shoot him dead if he refuses to hand her over."
+
+"Say," the gambler went on, ignoring the man's protest--the idea of
+Scipio shooting a man like James was too ludicrous--"you're up agin a
+bad proposition, sure. James has stole your--wife. He's stole more.
+He's a stage-robber."
+
+"A cattle-thief," broke in Sandy.
+
+"A 'bad man' of the worst," nodded Minky.
+
+"He's all these, an' more," went on Bill, scowling. "He's a low-down
+skunk, he's a pestilence, he's a murderer. You're goin' to hunt him
+back ther' to his own shack in the foothills with his gang of toughs
+around him, an' you're goin' to make him hand back your wife. Say,
+you're sure crazy. He'll kill you. He'll blow your carkis to hell, an'
+charge the devil freightage for doin' it."
+
+There was a look of agreement in the eyes that watched Scipio's mild
+face. There was more: there was sympathy and pity for him, feelings
+in these men for which there was no other means of expression.
+
+But Scipio was unmoved from his purpose. His underlip protruded
+obstinately. His pale eyes were alight with purpose and misery.
+
+"He's stole my--Jessie," he cried, "an' I want her back." Then, in a
+moment, his whole manner changed, and his words came with an
+irresistible pleading. Hard as was the gambler, the pathos of it
+struck a chord in him the existence of which, perhaps, even he was
+unaware.
+
+"You'll lend me a horse, Bill?" the little man cried. "You will, sure?
+I got fifty dollars saved for the kiddies' clothes. Here it is," he
+hurried on, pulling out a packet of bills from his hip pocket. "You
+take 'em and keep 'em against the horse. It ain't sufficient, but it's
+all I got. I'll pay the rest when I've made it, if your horse gets
+hurted. I will, sure. Say," he added, with a happy inspiration, "I'll
+give you a note on my claim--ha'f of it. You'll do it? You--"
+
+Bill's face went suddenly scarlet. Something made him lower his
+eyelids. It was as though he could not look on that eager face unmoved
+any longer. Somehow he felt in a vague sort of way that poor Scipio's
+spirit was altogether too big for his body. Bigger by far than that of
+those sitting there ready to deride his purpose, and crush it to a
+weak yielding such as, in their minds, was the only possible thing for
+a man of his like.
+
+"You set them bills right back in your dip," he cried, with a
+savageness that was only a mask to his real feelings; "I don't need
+'em. You ken get right out to the barn an' have your pick o' my plugs,
+an' anythin' you need else. Guess you best take the black mare. She'll
+carry you all day for a week, sure, an' then laff at you. Get right
+on, an'--an'--good luck!"
+
+There are actions performed in every man's life for which he can
+never account, even to himself. Such was the act Wild Bill performed
+at that moment. Gambling was his living, but his horses were a passion
+with him. He possessed, perhaps, some of the finest in the country,
+and he worshiped them. He had never been known to lend a horse to his
+best friend, and no one but himself had ever been allowed to feed or
+groom them. He was prouder of them than a father might be of his
+firstborn son, and as careful of them as any doting mother. Therefore
+his assent to Scipio's request was quite staggering to his companions.
+Nor did he know why he did it, and a furious anger followed
+immediately upon this unusual outburst of good-nature.
+
+Scipio was profuse in his thanks. But he was cut short with a violence
+that seemed quite unnecessary. For the moment, at least, Bill hated
+the little man almost as much as he hated this "Lord" James he was
+setting out in search of.
+
+After that no word passed until Scipio had left the store for the
+barn. Bill sat wrapt in moody thought, his fierce eyes lowered in
+contemplation of his well-shod feet. His cards were forgotten, the men
+around him were forgotten. Sandy and the storekeeper were watching his
+harsh face in wonder, while Toby's head was turned in the direction of
+the departing man. It was Sunny Oak from his post at the window who
+finally broke the silence.
+
+"Guess you gone plumb 'bug,' Bill," he said, with an amiable grin.
+Then, as only a flicker of a smile from the others answered him, and
+Bill ignored his charge altogether, he hurried on, "You're helpin'
+that misguided feller to a dose of lead he'll never have time to
+digest. If ever Zip runs foul of James, he'll blow him to hell as
+sure--as ther's allus work for those as don't need it. An', wot's
+more, you'll never set eyes on your black mare agin, 'less it's under
+James' saddle. You're sure 'bug.' You oughter be seen to."
+
+It was only Sunny Oak who would have dared to say so much to the
+gambler. But then, for some unstated reason, Sunny was a privileged
+person on Suffering Creek. Nobody paid much attention to the manner in
+which he allowed his tongue to run on, and, besides, he was too lazy
+to be afraid of anybody.
+
+Bill looked round.
+
+"You're side-tracked," he observed contemptuously. "James won't shoot
+Jessie's husband. Maybe he'll kick him out, maybe he'll roast him bad,
+and tongue-lash him. Anyways, every man's got to play his own hand.
+An'--it's good to see him playin' hard, win or lose. But Zip'll git
+back, sure. An' he'll bring my mare with him. Go to sleep, Sunny; your
+thinkin'-pan's nigh hatched out."
+
+"I don't guess he'll ever get alongside James," observed Minky
+thoughtfully. "We've all looked for him a piece. We know he's got a
+shanty back in the foothills, but I don't seem to remember hearin' of
+anybody findin' it. I don't guess Zip's wise to where it is."
+
+Bill's eyes lit with a curious fire.
+
+"Guess Zip'll find him," he said quietly. "Maybe it'll take him
+time--"
+
+"An'," cried Sunny, "how's them pore kiddies to live meanwhiles?"
+
+The loafer fired his little bomb with the desired effect. The men had
+no answer for some moments. And gradually all eyes fixed themselves
+upon Bill's face, as though acknowledging his leadership. He answered
+the challenge in characteristic fashion.
+
+"Guess we'll turn Sunny loose to wet-nurse 'em."
+
+An announcement which set Sunny plunging headlong to his own defense.
+
+"Say, ain't ther' no sort o' peace for a feller as needs rest? You're
+all mighty smart settin' folks to work. But this is your game, Bill,
+an' it's up to you to put it thro'. I 'low you'd make an elegant
+wet-nurse--so soft and motherish."
+
+But Bill had had enough, and turned upon the face at the window in his
+most savage manner.
+
+"See here," he cried, with fierce irony, "we've all know'd you since
+Sufferin' Creek was Sufferin' Creek, an' nobody ain't never kicked.
+But it's kind o' ne'ssary for every feller around these parts to
+justify 'emselves. Get me? You need 'justifyin'.' Wal, I guess you'll
+see to them kiddies till Zip comes back. It's going to be your work
+seein' they don't get fixed into any sort o' trouble, an' when Zip
+gets back you'll hand 'em over clean an' fixed right. Get that? I'm
+payin' for their board, an' I'm payin' you a wage. An' you're goin' to
+do it, or light right out o' here so quick your own dust'll choke
+you."
+
+"Here, here!" cried Toby, with a delighted laugh.
+
+Sandy grinned into the loafer's angry face, while Minky nodded an
+unsmiling approval.
+
+"Gee, you beat hell for nerve!" cried Sunny.
+
+"Guess I ken do better. I ken beat you," retorted Bill contemptuously.
+"You'll do it, or--you ken start gettin' out now," he added.
+
+Sunny realized his position by the expression of the other men's
+faces, and, quickly resuming his good-humored plaint, he acquiesced
+with a grumble.
+
+"Gee! but it's a tough world," he complained, dropping back on to his
+bench hurriedly, lest fresh demands should be made upon him, and just
+in time to witness Scipio leading a beautiful black mare up to the
+tying-post.
+
+The men in the store turned out at the sound of horse's hoofs, and
+stood gathered on the veranda. Bill's keen eyes were fixed regretfully
+on the shining sides of his favorite animal. She was a picture of lean
+muscle and bone, with a beautiful small head, and ears that looked
+little larger than well-polished mussel-shells. She stood pawing the
+ground impatiently while Scipio tied her to the post, and she nuzzled
+his ribs playfully with her twitching lips in the most friendly
+spirit. But Bill's eyes were suddenly arrested by the manner in which
+she was saddled and bridled. Poor Scipio had blundered in a hopeless
+fashion.
+
+Other eyes, too, had seen the blunder, and Sandy Joyce suddenly
+pointed.
+
+"Mackinaw! Jest get that," he cried.
+
+"By Gee!" laughed Sunny.
+
+But Wild Bill cut them all short in a surprising manner.
+
+"Say, guess you fellers ain't never made no sort o' mistakes--any o'
+you. You're laffin' a heap. Quit it, or--" His eyes flashed
+dangerously. Then, as the men became silent, he darted across to where
+Scipio was still fumbling with the neck rope.
+
+The little man's attempt at saddling, under any other circumstances,
+would have brought forth Bill's most scathing contempt. The saddle was
+set awry upon an ill-folded blanket. It was so far back from the
+mare's withers that the twisted double cinchas were somewhere under
+her belly, instead of her girth. Then the bit was reversed in her
+mouth, and the curb-strap was hanging loose.
+
+Bill came to his rescue in his own peculiar way.
+
+"Say, Zip," he cried in a voice that nothing could soften, "I don't
+guess you altered them stirrups to fit you. I'll jest fix 'em." And
+the little man stood humbly by while he set to work. He quickly
+unfastened the cinchas, and set the blanket straight. Then he shifted
+the saddle, and refastened the cinchas. Then he altered the stirrups,
+and passed on to the mare's bridle--Scipio watching him all the while
+without a word. But when the gambler had finished he glanced up into
+his lean face with an almost dog-like gratitude.
+
+"Thanks, Bill," he said. "I never done it before."
+
+"So I guessed." And the gambler's words, though wholly harsh, had no
+other meaning in them. Then he went on, as Scipio scrambled into the
+saddle, "You don't need to worry any 'bout things here. Your
+kiddies'll be seen to proper till you get back, if you're on the trail
+a month."
+
+Scipio was startled. He had forgotten his twins.
+
+"Say--you--"
+
+But Bill wanted no thanks or explanations.
+
+"We're seein' to them things--us, an' that all-fired lazy slob, Sunny
+Oak. Ther' won't be no harm--" He flicked the restive mare, which
+bounded off with the spring of a gazelle. "Ease your hand to her," he
+called out, so as to drown Scipio's further protestations of
+gratitude, "ease your hand, you blamed little fule. That's it. Now let
+her go."
+
+And the mare raced off in a cloud of dust.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+HUSBAND AND LOVER
+
+
+Where all the trail-wise men of Suffering Creek and the district had
+failed, Scipio, the incompetent, succeeded. Such was the ironical
+pleasure of the jade Fortune. Scipio had not the vaguest idea of
+whither his quest would lead him. He had no ideas on the subject at
+all. Only had he his fixed purpose hard in his mind, and, like a
+loadstone, it drew him unerringly to his goal.
+
+There was something absolutely ludicrous in the manner of his search.
+But fortunately there are few ready to laugh at disaster. Thus it was
+that wherever he went, wherever he paused amongst his fellows in
+search of information he was received perfectly seriously, even when
+he told the object of his search, and the story of its reason.
+
+An ordinary man would probably have hugged such a story to himself. He
+would have resorted to covert probing and excuse in extracting
+information. But then it is doubtful if, under such circumstances, his
+purpose would have been so strong, so absolutely invincible as
+Scipio's. As it was, with single-minded simplicity, Scipio saw no
+reason for subterfuge, he saw no reason for disguising the tragedy
+which had befallen him. And so he shed his story broadcast amongst the
+settlers of the district until, by means of that wonderful prairie
+telegraphy, which needs no instruments to operate, it flew before him
+in every direction, either belittled or exaggerated as individual
+temperament prompted.
+
+At one ranch the news was brought in from the trail by a hard-faced
+citizen who had little imagination, but much knowledge of the
+country.
+
+"Say, fellers," he cried, as he swung out of the saddle at the
+bunkhouse door, "ther's a tow-headed sucker on the trail lookin' fer
+the James outfit. Guess he wants to shoot 'em up. He's a sawed-off
+mutt, an' don't look a heap like scarin' a jack-rabbit. I told him he
+best git back to hum, an' git busy fixin' his funeral right, so he
+wouldn't have no trouble later."
+
+"Wher's he from?" someone asked.
+
+"Sufferin' Creek," replied the cowpuncher, "an' seems to me he's got
+more grit than savvee."
+
+And this opinion was more or less the general one. The little man rode
+like one possessed, and it was as well that of all his six treasured
+horses Wild Bill had lent him his black beauty, Gipsy. She was quite
+untiring, and, with her light weight burden, she traveled in a spirit
+of sheer delight.
+
+At every homestead or ranch Scipio only paused to make inquiries and
+then hurried on. The information he received was of the vaguest. James
+or some of his gang were often seen in the remoter parts of the lower
+foothills, but this was all. At one farm he had a little better luck,
+however. Here he was told that the farmer had received an intimation
+that if he wished to escape being burnt out he must be prepared to
+hand over four hundred dollars when called upon by the writer to do
+so; and the message was signed "James."
+
+"So ye see," said the farmer--a man named Nicholls--despondently,
+"he's som'eres skulkin' around hyar."
+
+"Seems like it," acquiesced Scipio.
+
+Then, of a sudden, a suspicion flashed through the other's mind, and
+the man-hunter spent an uncomfortable few seconds.
+
+"Say, you're lookin' fer him?" the farmer questioned harshly. Then he
+leant forward, his eyes lighting with sudden anger. "If I tho't you
+was--"
+
+But Scipio's mild blue eyes, and his simple reply had a pacific effect
+at once.
+
+"I'm looking for him because he's stole my wife. And I'm goin' on
+chasin' till I find him."
+
+There was such mild sincerity in his visitor's manner that it was
+impossible for the farmer to retain his suspicion.
+
+"What you goin' to do about that four hundred?" inquired Scipio
+later.
+
+"He'll get no dollars out o' me. I ain't got 'em," replied Nicholls
+hopelessly. Then his temper rose. "But I'm just goin' to sleep with a
+gun to my hand, an' he'll get it good an' plenty, if he shoots the
+life out of me, an' burns every stick I got, after."
+
+Scipio nodded sympathetically.
+
+"I'd feel that ways," he said. "Well, I guess I'll be gettin' on. My
+mare'll be fed an' rested by this. Thanks for the feed. Guess I'll
+hunt around this district a piece. Maybe I'll find--"
+
+But suddenly the farmer awoke from the contemplation of his own
+troubles and eyed the diminutive figure of his guest wonderingly, as
+he stood up to go.
+
+"Say," he observed critically, "guess you must be bustin' with grit
+chasin' this feller."
+
+Scipio shook his head.
+
+"No," he said, with a wan smile. "But he's got--my wife."
+
+"Ah."
+
+And there was a world of understanding in the man's monosyllable.
+
+Five minutes later the man-hunter was on the trail again. It was the
+afternoon of the second day of his quest. He was saddle-sore and
+weary, but his purpose knew no weakening. Gipsy was going fresh and
+strong, and though she had already traveled probably a hundred miles
+in her rider's aimless wanderings, she moved as though she was out for
+a morning's exercise on a liberal diet of oats.
+
+True to his intention Scipio scoured the district with an excess of
+enthusiasm which carried him far, and sundown found him amongst the
+beehive hummocks which form the approach to the greater hills. Up and
+down these wonderful grassy dunes he roamed searching a resting-place
+for himself and his mare. There was nothing of the sort in sight,
+nothing but the endless series of grassy knolls, and the dividing
+hollows which might conceal anything, from a ranch house to an
+outlying cattle station. And finally he abandoned all hope of
+shelter.
+
+He had certainly lost himself. But, even so, he was not greatly
+concerned. Why should he be? What did it matter? He knew that if the
+worst came to the worst his mare could eat her fill of grass, and, for
+himself, sleep in the open had no terrors. Of food for himself he had
+not even begun to think. So he rode on until the last blaze of the
+setting sun dropped behind the sky-line.
+
+He was descending into a hollow, something deeper than usual. Hope ran
+high that it was one of those hidden breaks, which, at intervals,
+cross the sea of grassy dunes, and mark a mountain waterway. Nor was
+he disappointed. A few moments later, to his delight, he found himself
+gazing into the depths of one of the many rivulets trickling its
+shallow way between low cut banks. Promptly he made up his mind that
+it was the place for him to camp.
+
+At the water's edge he scrambled out of the saddle and began to seek a
+place where his mare could drink. It was a little difficult, for the
+banks were sharp, and the bushes plentiful, and he had wandered at
+least a hundred yards in his search for an opening when a human voice
+abruptly hailed him from the far side of the stream. He looked across
+without answering, and, to his intense surprise, beheld a horseman on
+the opposite bank. The man, judging by his appearance, was a
+cowpuncher, and, to Scipio's simple mind, was, like himself,
+benighted.
+
+"Hello," he replied at last, after a thoughtful stare.
+
+The man was eyeing the yellow-headed figure with no very friendly
+eyes, but this fact was lost upon Scipio, who saw in him only a fellow
+man in misfortune. He saw the lariat on the horn of the saddle, the
+man's chapps, his hard-muscled broncho pony gazing longingly at the
+water. The guns at the man's waist, the scowling brow and shifty eyes
+passed quite unobserved.
+
+"Wher' you from?" demanded the man sharply.
+
+"Suffering Creek," replied Scipio readily.
+
+"Guess you've come quite a piece," said the other, after a considering
+pause.
+
+"I sure have."
+
+"What you doin' here?"
+
+The man's inquiry rapped out smartly. But Scipio had no suspicion of
+anybody, and answered quite without hesitation.
+
+"I'm huntin' a man called James. You ain't seen him?"
+
+But the man countered his question with another.
+
+"What's your name?" he asked.
+
+"Scipio--and yours?"
+
+In the dying light the man's saturnine features seemed to relax for a
+moment into something like a smile. But he spoke at once.
+
+"Come right over," he invited. "Guess my name's Abe--Abe Conroy. I'm
+out chasin' cattle." And the fact that he finished up with a
+deliberate laugh had no meaning at all for his companion.
+
+Scipio gladly accepted the invitation, and, in response to the man's
+instructions, moved farther along the stream until he came to a
+shelving in the bank where his mare could climb down. He crossed
+over, letting his horse drink by the way, and a few moments later was
+at his new acquaintance's side.
+
+The stranger's mood seemed to have entirely changed for the better by
+the time Scipio came up. His smile was almost amiable, and his manner
+of speech was comparatively jocular.
+
+"So you're chasin' that crook, James," he said easily. "Queer, ain't
+it?"
+
+"What?"
+
+"Why, he's run off a bunch of our stock. Leastways, that's how I'm
+guessin'. I'm makin' up to his place right now to spy out things. I
+was jest waitin' fer the sun to go. Y'see we're organizin' a vigilance
+party to run--Say, I'd a notion fer a moment you was one of his
+gang."
+
+But Scipio disclaimed the honor promptly.
+
+"No. I just need to find him. I'm needin' it bad."
+
+"Wot fer?"
+
+For once the man-hunter hesitated. A quite unaccountable feeling gave
+him a moment's pause. But he finally answered frankly, as he always
+answered, with a simple directness that was just part of him.
+
+"He's stole my wife," he said, his eyes directly gazing into the
+other's face.
+
+"Gee, he's a low-down skunk," declared the other, with a curse. But
+the ironical light in his eyes quite escaped his companion's
+understanding.
+
+Scipio was full of his good fortune in falling in with a man who knew
+of James' whereabouts. A dozen questions sprang into his mind, but he
+contented himself with stating his intention.
+
+"I'll ride on with you," he said.
+
+"What, right up to James' lay-out?"
+
+"Sure. That's wher' I'm makin'."
+
+For a moment the man calling himself Conroy sat gazing out at the
+afterglow of the setting sun. His whole appearance was ill-favored
+enough to have aroused distrust in anybody but a man like Scipio. Now
+he seemed to be pondering a somewhat vexed question, and his brows
+were drawn together in a way that suggested anything but a clear
+purpose. But finally he seemed to make up his mind to a definite
+course. He spoke without turning to his companion, and perhaps it was
+for the purpose of hiding a lurking derisive smile.
+
+"If you're set on makin' James' shanty, you best come right along.
+Only"--he hesitated for the barest fraction of a second--"y'see, I'm
+out after this cattle racket, an' I guess I owe it to my folks to git
+their bizness thro' without no chance of upset. See?"
+
+Scipio nodded. He saw the man's drift, and thought it quite splendid
+of him.
+
+"Now, I got to spy out things," the man went on, "an' if you get right
+up ther' first it'll likely upset things fer me--you goin' ther' to
+hold him up as it were." His smile was more pronounced. "Now I guess
+I'll show you where his lay-out is if you'll sure give me your promise
+to let me hunt around fer ha'f-an-hour around his corrals--'fore you
+butt in. Then I'll get right back to you an' you can go up, an'--shoot
+him to hell, if you notion that fancy."
+
+Scipio almost beamed his thanks. The man's kindness seemed a noble
+thing to him.
+
+"You're a real bully fellow," he said. "Guess we'll start right now?"
+
+The man turned and his shrewd eyes fixed themselves piercingly on the
+little man's face.
+
+"Yes," he said shortly, "we'll get on."
+
+He led the way, his horse slightly in advance of the mare, and for
+some time he made no attempt to break the silence that had fallen. The
+twilight was rapidly passing into the deeper shadows of night, but he
+rode amongst the hills as though he were traveling a broad open trail.
+There was no hesitation, no questioning glance as to his direction.
+He might have been traveling a trail that he had been accustomed to
+all his life. At last, however, he glanced round at his companion.
+
+"Say, what you goin' to do when--you get there?" he asked.
+
+"Fetch my wife back," replied Scipio earnestly.
+
+"What'll James be doin'?"
+
+"He can't keep her--she's mine."
+
+"That's so. But--if he notions to keep her?"
+
+Scipio was silent for some moments. His pale eyes were staring
+straight ahead of him out into the growing darkness.
+
+"Maybe, I'll have to shoot him," he said at last, as though there
+could be no question about the matter.
+
+The man nodded.
+
+"Got useful guns?" he inquired casually.
+
+"Got one."
+
+"Ah, what is it? Magazine?"
+
+Scipio pulled his antique possession out of his pocket and handed it
+over for the man's inspection.
+
+"It's all right," he said. "Guess the sights ain't good over a
+distance, but at close range it'll make a nasty hole."
+
+Conroy took the weapon in his hand. His keen eyes noted the age of the
+pattern. He also saw the battered condition of the sights, and the
+clumsy, rusted, protruding hammer. It was six-chambered, and he knew
+that it must be all of forty years old. One of the earliest pattern
+revolvers. The sight of it filled him with cruel amusement, but he
+kept a serious face.
+
+"I 'lows that should bring James to his senses," he observed, as he
+handed it back to its owner.
+
+Scipio read his answer as approval, and warmed towards him.
+
+"I'd say so," he said, returning his antiquity to his pocket. "You
+see, a gun's li'ble to rattle a feller like James. A man who can get
+around when a feller's back's turned, an' make love to his wife, ain't
+much of a man, is he? I mean he hasn't much grit. He's a coward sure.
+If he'd got grit he wouldn't do it. Well, that's how I figger 'bout
+this James. He's mean, an' a cowardly dog. I don't guess I'll have to
+use that gun, but I jest brought it along to scare him to his senses,
+if he needs it. Maybe though he won't need it when he sees me come
+along--y'see, I'm Jessie's husband--guess that'll fix him sure."
+
+"Guess you got James sized up good," observed the man, with his eyes
+fixed ahead. "No, I don't see you'll need that gun."
+
+They rode on, Scipio's spirits rising with every yard they traveled.
+He knew he was nearing his wife with every passing moment. He had no
+doubts, no fears. So long as he could reach her side he felt that all
+would be well. In spite of her letter it never entered his head that
+she cared for the man she had gone off with. He blamed James, and it
+was no mere figure of speech when he said that he believed he had
+"stolen" her. He believed such to be the case. He believed she had
+gone unwillingly. In his mind it was a case of abduction. Again and
+again he thanked Providence that he had fallen in with this man,
+Conroy. He was a good fellow, he told himself, a good friend. And his
+ideas were so coincident with his own about James.
+
+They were approaching the higher hills. Towering, broken crags loomed
+ahead darkly in the gathering gloom. The vast riven facets cut the
+sky-line, and black patches of pine forests, and spruce, gave a
+ghostly, threatening outlook. They must have been riding over two
+hours when Scipio realized they were passing over a narrow cattle
+track on the summit of a wooded hill. Then presently their horses
+began a steep shelving descent which required great caution to
+negotiate. And as they proceeded the darkness closed in upon them,
+until they appeared to be making an almost precipitate descent into a
+vast black pit. There was no light here at all except for the stars
+above, for the last glow of twilight was completely shut off by the
+great wall they were now leaving behind them.
+
+No word was spoken. Each man was busy with his horse, and the animals
+themselves were stumbling and floundering as they picked their
+uncertain way. A quarter of an hour of this went by, then, suddenly,
+ahead, still farther down the slope, two or three dim lights shone up
+at them like will-o'-the-wisps. They seemed to dance about before
+Scipio's eyes as they rode. Nor, as he pointed them out to his
+companion, did he realize that this peculiarity was due to the motion
+of his mare under him.
+
+"Yep," replied Conroy dryly. "Them's James' lights."
+
+"He's got a large place," said Scipio, with some awe in his tone.
+
+"He sure has," agreed Conroy, smiling in the darkness. "He's got the
+biggest an' best-stocked ranch in Montana."
+
+"You say he's a--cattle thief?" Scipio was struggling to get things
+into proper focus.
+
+"He sure is." And Conroy's tone of satisfaction had the effect of
+silencing further comment by his companion.
+
+A few moments later the descent was completed, and the soft grass
+under her feet set Gipsy dancing to get on, but Conroy pulled up.
+
+"Here," he said authoritatively, "you set right here while I get on
+an' get thro' with my business. I'll come along back for you."
+
+Without demur Scipio waited, and his companion vanished in the
+darkness. The little man had entered into an agreement, and had no
+desire, in spite of his eagerness to be doing, of departing from the
+letter of it. So he possessed himself in what patience he could until
+Conroy's return.
+
+The soft pad of the retiring horse's hoofs on the thick grass died
+away. And presently one of the twinkling lights ahead was abruptly
+shut out. The horseman had intervened on Scipio's line of vision. Then
+the yellow gleam as suddenly reappeared, and the last sign of Conroy
+passed. The waiting man watched with every faculty alert. His ears and
+eyes straining for the least unusual sound or sight. But there was
+none forthcoming.
+
+Then he began to think. He began to consider the situation. He began
+to picture to himself something of the scene that he hoped would
+shortly take place between himself and the man James. It was the first
+time he had thought of the matter deliberately, or attempted to
+estimate its possibilities. Hitherto he had been too torn by his
+emotions to consider anything in detail. And, even now, so imbued was
+he with the right of his cause that he only saw his own point of view,
+which somehow made James a mere plaything in his hands.
+
+He found himself dictating his will upon the thief in firm tones. He
+demanded his wife without heat, but with the knowledge of the power of
+his gun lying behind his words. He felt the restraint he would use. He
+would not bully. Who was he to bully after having had Jessie restored
+to him? James should be dealt with as gently as his feelings would
+permit him. Yes, thank God, he had no actual desire to hurt this man
+who had so wronged him. The man was foolish, and he could afford to be
+generous, having had Jessie restored to him. No, he would try hard to
+forgive him. It would be a tremendous struggle, he knew, yet he felt,
+with Jessie restored to him, he ought to make the effort. Somehow,
+even now, he almost felt sorry for so misguided a--
+
+But his reflections were suddenly cut short by the sound of horses'
+hoofs returning, and, a moment later, Conroy loomed up in the
+darkness. He came quite close up before he spoke, and then it was
+almost in a whisper.
+
+"I've located things," he said, with an air of deep satisfaction.
+"Guess we'll make Mr. 'Lord' James hunt his hole 'fore we're thro'
+with him. I figger a rawhide fixed neat about his neck'll 'bout meet
+his case. An' say, I've news fer you. Ther's some o' his boys around.
+He's jest right in ther' wher' you ken see that biggish light," he
+went on, pointing at the illuminated square of a window. "I see him
+through an open door round back. He's lyin' on a heap o' blankets
+readin' a book. Ef you git along now you'll get him wher' you need
+him, an'--an' I wouldn't take no chances. Get a drop on him from
+outside the door, an'--wal, guess a feller like you'll know what to do
+after that. I'm gettin' back to home."
+
+Scipio glowed. He felt he could have hugged this good-natured
+stranger. But he did not altogether agree with the man's suggestion of
+getting the drop on James. He felt it would hardly be playing the
+game. However, he intended to be guided by circumstances.
+
+"Thanks, friend," he said, in his simple fashion. "You must let me
+call you that," he went on eagerly. "You see, you've done something
+for me to-night I can't never forget. Maybe you've got a wife of your
+own, and if so you'll sure understand."
+
+"Can't rightly say I've got a--wife," the man replied, "but I ken
+understan' all right. James is low--doggone low," he added. And his
+face was turned well away so that he could grin comfortably without
+fear of the other seeing it.
+
+"Well, so long," said Scipio hastily. "Seeing I shan't see you here
+when I get back, I'd just like to thank you again."
+
+"So long," replied the other. "An' you needn't to thank me too much."
+
+Scipio urged his mare forward, and the man sat looking after him. And
+somehow his face had lost something of its satisfied expression.
+However, he sat there only a moment. Presently he lifted his reins
+and set his horse at a canter in the direction of one of the more
+distant lights.
+
+"He's a pore fule," he muttered, "but it's a lousy trick anyways."
+Thus he dismissed the matter from his mind with a callous shrug.
+
+In the meantime Scipio neared the house from which shone the larger
+light. As he drew towards it he saw its outline against the starlight.
+It was a large, two-storied frame house of weather-boarding, with a
+veranda fronting it. There were several windows on the hither side of
+it, but light shone only in one of them. It was by this light the
+horseman saw a tie-post some yards from the house. And without
+hesitation he rode up to it, and, dismounting, secured his mare. Then,
+following Conroy's directions, he proceeded on foot to the back of the
+house where he was to find an open door. He turned the angle of the
+building. Yes, the door was there all right, but whereas Conroy had
+said that James was lying on his blankets reading, he now discovered
+that the doorway was filled by that handsome thief's presence.
+
+Before he realized what had happened, Scipio found himself in the full
+glare of the light from the doorway, and James was smiling down upon
+his yellow head with a curious blending of insolence and curiosity.
+
+"I was wondering when you'd get around," he said, without shifting his
+position. Then, as Scipio made no answer, he bestirred himself. "Come
+right in," he added, and, lounging out of the doorway, he dropped back
+into the room. "You'll find things a bit untidy," he went on calmly,
+"you see I'm making changes in my domestic arrangements. This is
+temporary, I guess. However, if you don't just mind that, why--come
+right in."
+
+The man's whole manner was one of good-humored indifference. There was
+an unruffled assurance about him that was quite perfect, if studied.
+Scipio's presence there seemed the last thing of concern to him. And
+the effect of his manner on his visitor entirely upset all the
+latter's preconceived intentions. Astonishment was his first feeling.
+Then a sudden diffidence seized him, a diffidence that was nearly akin
+to fear of his rival. But this passed in a moment, and was instantly
+replaced by a hot rush of blood through his small body. All his
+pictured interview died out of his recollections, and, in place of
+that calmness with which he had intended to meet the man, he found his
+pulses hammering and hot anger mounting to his head. The commonest of
+human passions stirred in him, and he felt it would be good to hurt
+this man who had so wronged him.
+
+"Where's my wife?" he demanded, with a sudden fierceness.
+
+"Oh--it's that. Say, come right in?"
+
+James was still smiling pleasantly. This time Scipio accepted the
+invitation without thought of trap or anything else. He almost
+precipitated himself into the room.
+
+Nor in his fury did he observe his surroundings. He had no eyes for
+the furnishings, the cheap comfort with which he was surrounded. And
+though, as James had said, the place was untidy, he saw nothing and
+none of it. His eyes were on the man; angry, bloodshot eyes, such eyes
+as those of a furiously goaded dog, driven into a corner by the cruel
+lash of a bully's whip.
+
+"Yes, that's it. Wher's my wife?" Scipio demanded threateningly.
+"You've stole her, and taken her from me. I've come to take her
+back."
+
+The force of his demands was tinged with the simplicity of a naturally
+gentle disposition. And maybe, in consequence, something of their
+sting was lost. The forceful bluster of an outraged man, determined
+upon enforcing his demands, would probably have stirred James to
+active protest, but, as it was, he only continued to smile his
+insolence upon one whom he regarded as little better than a harmless
+worm.
+
+"One moment," he said, with an exasperating patience, "you say I stole
+her. To have stolen her suggests that she was not willing to come
+along. She came with me. Well, I guess she came because she fancied
+it. You say you're going to take her back. Well," with a shrug, "I
+kind of think she'll have something to say about going back."
+
+For a moment Scipio stood aghast. He glanced about him helplessly.
+Then, in a flash, his pale-blue eyes came back to the other's face.
+
+"She's mine, I tell you! Mine! Mine! Mine!" he cried, in a frenzy of
+rage and despair. "She's mine by the laws of God an' man. She's mine
+by the love that has brought our kiddies into the world. Do you hear?
+She's mine by every tie that can hold man and wife together. An'
+you've stole her. She's all I've got. She's all I want. She's just
+part of me, and I can't live without her. Ther's the kiddies to home
+waitin' for her, and she's theirs, same as they are hers--and mine. I
+tell you, you ain't going to keep her. She's got to come back." He
+drew a deep breath to choke down his fury. "Say," he went on, with a
+sudden moderating of his tone and his manner, taking on a pitiful
+pleading, "do you think you love her? You? Do you think you know what
+love is? You don't. You can't. You can't love her same as I do. I love
+her honest. I love her so I want to work for her till I drop. I love
+her so there's nothin' on earth I wouldn't do for her. My life is
+hers. All that's me is hers. I ain't got a thought without her. Man,
+you don't know what it is to love my Jessie. You can't, 'cos your
+love's not honest. You've taken her same as you'd take any woman for
+your pleasure. If I was dead, would you marry her? No, never, never,
+never. She's a pastime to you, and when you've done with her you'd
+turn her right out on this prairie to herd with the cattle, if ther'
+wasn't anywher' else for her to go." Then his voice suddenly rose and
+his fury supervened again. "God!" he cried fiercely. "Give me back my
+wife. You're a thief. Give her back to me, I say. She's mine, d'you
+understand--mine!"
+
+Not for an instant did the smile on James' face relax. Maybe it became
+more set, and his lips, perhaps, tightened, but the smile was there,
+hard, unyielding in its very setness. And when Scipio's appeal came to
+an end he spoke with an underlying harshness that did not carry its
+way to the little man's distracted brain.
+
+"She wouldn't go back to you, even if I let her--which I won't," he
+said coldly.
+
+The man's words seemed to bite right into the heart of his hearer.
+Nothing could have been better calculated to goad him to extremity. In
+one short, harsh sentence he had dashed every hope that the other
+possessed. And with a rush the stricken man leapt at denial, which was
+heartrending in its impotence.
+
+"You lie!" he shouted. The old revolver was dragged from his pocket
+and pointed shakingly at his tormentor's head. "Give her back to me!
+Give her back, or--"
+
+James' desperate courage never deserted him for an instant. And Scipio
+was never allowed to complete his sentence. The other's hand suddenly
+reached out, and the pistol was twisted from his shaking grasp with as
+little apparent effort as though he had been a small child.
+
+Scipio stared helpless and confused while James eyed the pattern of
+the gun. Then he heard the man's contemptuous laugh and saw him pull
+the trigger. The hammer refused to move. It was so rusted that the
+weapon was quite useless. For a moment the desperado's eyes sought the
+pale face of his would-be slayer. A devilish smile lurked in their
+depths. Then he held out the pistol for the other to take, while his
+whole manner underwent a hideous change.
+
+"Here, take it, you wretched worm," he cried, with sudden savagery.
+"Take it, you miserable fool," he added, as Scipio remained unheeding.
+"It wouldn't blow even your fool brains out. Take it!" he reiterated,
+with a command the other could no longer resist. "And now get out of
+here," he went on mercilessly, as Scipio's hand closed over the
+wretched weapon, "or I'll hand you over to the boys. They'll show you
+less mercy than I do. They're waiting out there," he cried, pointing
+at the door, "for my orders. One word from me and they'll cut the
+liver out of you with rawhides, and Abe Conroy'll see it's done right.
+Get you right out of here, and if ever you come squealing around my
+quarters again I'll have you strung up by your wretched neck till
+you're dead--dead as a crushed worm--dead as is your wife, Jessie, to
+you from now out. Get out of here, you straw-headed sucker, get right
+out, quick!"
+
+But the tide of the man's fury seemed to utterly pass the little man
+by. He made no attempt to obey. The pistol hung in his tightly
+gripping hand, and his underlip protruded obstinately.
+
+"She's mine, you thief!" he cried. "Give her back to me."
+
+It was the cry of a beaten man whose spirit is unquenchable.
+
+But James had finished. All that was worst in him was uppermost now.
+With eyes blazing he stepped to the door and whistled. He might have
+been whistling up his dogs. Perhaps those who responded were his dogs.
+Three men came in, and the foremost of them was Abe Conroy.
+
+"Here," cried James, his cruel eyes snapping, "take him out and set
+him on his horse, and send him racing to hell after m'squitoes. And
+don't handle him too easy."
+
+What happened to him after that Scipio never fully understood. He had
+a vague memory of being seized and buffeted and kicked into a state of
+semi-unconsciousness. Nor did he rouse out of his stupor, until, sick
+and sore in every limb, his poor yellow head aching and confused, he
+found himself swaying dangerously about in the saddle, with Gipsy,
+racing like a mad thing, under his helpless legs.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+SUNNY OAK PROTESTS
+
+
+Wild Bill was gazing out across the camp dumps. His expression
+suggested the contemplation of a problem of life and death, and a
+personal one at that. Sandy Joyce, too, bore traces suggestive of the
+weightiest moments of his life. Toby Jenks stood chewing the dirty
+flesh of a stubby forefinger, while the inevitable smile on Sunny
+Oak's face made one think of a bright spring morning under cover of a
+yellow fog.
+
+"How am I to see to them pore kiddies?" the latter was complaining.
+"I've had to do with cattle, an' mules, an' even hogs in my time, but
+I sure don't guess you ken set them bits o' mites in a brandin'
+corral, nor feed 'em oats an' hay, nor even ladle 'em swill for
+supper, like hogs. Fer other things, I don't guess I could bile a bean
+right without a lib'ry o' cook-books, so how I'm to make 'em elegant
+pap for their suppers 'ud beat the Noo York p'lice force. An' as fer
+fixin' their clothes, an' bathing 'em, why, it 'ud set me feelin' that
+fulish you wouldn't know me from a patient in a bug-house. It makes me
+real mad, folks is allus astin' me to get busy doin' things. I'm that
+sick, the sight of a ha'f-washened kid 'ud turn my stummick to bile,
+an' set me cacklin' like a hen with a brood o' ducklings she can't no
+ways account fer. You'se fellers are a happy lot o' Jonahs to a man as
+needs rest."
+
+"You're sure doing the cacklin' now," observed Bill contemptuously.
+
+"Maybe he's layin' eggs," murmured Toby vaguely.
+
+The men were standing on the veranda, gathered round the bench on
+which Sunny Oak was still resting his indolent body. And the subject
+of their discourse was Scipio's two children. The father had ridden
+off on his search for James, and the responsibility of his twins was
+weighing heavily on those left behind.
+
+"Kind o' handy ladlin' it out to folks," said Sunny, grinning lazily.
+"But, with all your brightness, I don't guess any o' you could mother
+them kiddies. No, it's jest 'send Sunny along to see to 'em.' That
+bein' said, you'll git right back to your poker with a righteous
+feelin' which makes it come good to rob each other all you know. Psha!
+You ain't no better'n them lousy birds as lays eggs sizes too big, an'
+blames 'em on to some moultin' sparrer that ain't got feathers 'nuff
+to make it welcome at a scratchin' bee."
+
+Sunny's flow was a little overwhelming, and perhaps there was just
+enough truth in his remarks to make it unadvisable for the others to
+measure wits with him. Anyway, he received no reply. Bill continued to
+gaze out at Scipio's hut in a way that suggested great absorption,
+while Toby had not yet lunched sufficiently off his tattered
+forefinger. Sandy was the only one of the three apparently alive to
+the true exigencies of the case, and Sunny addressed himself more
+exclusively to him.
+
+"Say," he went on, his good-humored eyes smiling cunningly up into the
+widower's face, "I've heerd tell that you once did some pore
+unsuspicious female the dirty trick of marryin' her. Mebbe you'll sure
+hev' notions 'bout kiddies an' such things. Now, if Wild Bill had come
+along an' pushed a shootin'-iron into your map, an' said you'll handle
+Zip's kiddies--wal, I ask you, wot 'ud you ha' done?"
+
+"Told him to git his head cooled some," retorted Sandy promptly.
+
+"Ah, guess you bin saved a heap o' trouble," murmured Sunny. "But if
+you hadn't said that--which you said you would ha' said--an' you'd
+got busy as he suggested--wal, what then?"
+
+Sandy cleared his throat, and, in his sudden interest, Toby deferred
+the rest of his meal.
+
+"Wal, I'd ha' gone right up to the shack an' looked into things."
+
+Sandy's first effort seemed to please him, and, hitching his moleskin
+trousers up deliberately, he proceeded with some unction--
+
+"Y'see, ther' ain't nothin' like gettin' a look around. Then you kind
+o' know wher' you are. You sure need to know wher' you are 'fore you
+get busy proper. It's most like everything else. If you get on the
+wrong trail at the start, it's li'ble to lead you wher' you don't want
+to go. What I says is, hit the right trail at the start, then you got
+a chance o' gettin' thro' right, which, I take it, is an elegant way
+o' doin' most things. Wal, havin' located the right trail--"
+
+"We're talkin' o' Zip's twins," murmured Sunny gently.
+
+"Sure, that's where I'm gettin' to--"
+
+"By trail?" inquired Toby seriously.
+
+"Say, you make me tired," retorted Sandy angrily.
+
+"Best quit the trail, then," said Sunny.
+
+"Go to blazes!" cried Sandy, and promptly relapsed into moody
+silence.
+
+At that moment Bill turned from his contemplation of the house beyond
+the dumps and fixed his fierce eyes on Sunny's grinning face.
+
+"Here, you miser'ble hoboe," he cried, "get right up out of that, and
+hump across to Zip's shack. You're doin' enough gassin' fer a female
+tattin' bee. Your hot air makes me want to sweat. Now, them kiddies'll
+need supper. You'll jest ast Minky fer all you need, an' I pay. An'
+you'll see things is fixed right for 'em."
+
+Sunny lurched reluctantly to his feet. He knew the gambler far too
+well to debate the point further. He had made his protest, which had
+been utterly ineffective, so there was nothing left him but to obey
+the fiercely uttered mandate.
+
+But Sandy Joyce felt that somehow his first effort on behalf of the
+children had missed fire, and it was his duty not to allow himself to
+be ousted from the council. So he stayed the loafer with a word.
+
+"Say, you'll be knowin' how to feed 'em?" he inquired gravely.
+
+Sunny's eyes twinkled.
+
+"Wal, mebbe you ken give me pointers," he retorted, with apparent
+sincerity.
+
+"That's how I was figgerin'," said Sandy cordially. He felt better now
+about his first effort. "Y'see, Minky's stock is limited some; ther'
+ain't a heap o' variety, like. An' kiddies do need variety. Y'see,
+they're kind o' delicate feeders, same as high-bred hosses, an' dogs
+an' things. Now, dogs need diff'rent meat every day, if you're goin'
+to bring 'em up right. A friend o' mine sure once told me that meat,
+good meat, was the best feed fer prize dogs, an' he was a feller that
+won a heap o' prizes. He had one, Boston bull, I--"
+
+"'ll I need to git dog-biscuit for them kiddies?" inquired Sunny
+sarcastically.
+
+"Say, you make me sick," cried Sandy, flushing angrily.
+
+"Guess that's how you'll make them kiddies," interposed Toby.
+
+Sandy glanced viciously from one to the other. Then, assuming
+a superiority that scarcely hid his chagrin, he ignored the
+interruptions.
+
+"You best ast Minky fer some dandy canned truck," he said decisively,
+deliberately turning his back on Toby Jenks. "Mebbe a can o' lobster
+an' one o' them elegant tongues stewed in jelly stuff, an' set in a
+glass bowl. Y'see, they kids needs nourishin', an' that orter fix
+them 'bout right. I don't know 'bout them new sides o' sow-belly
+Minky's jest had in. Seems to me they'll likely need teeth eatin'
+that. Seein' you ain't a heap at fixin' beans right, we best cut that
+line right out--though I 'lows there's elegant nourishin' stuff in 'em
+for bosses. Best get a can o' crackers an' some cheese. I don't guess
+they'll need onions, nor pickles. But a bit o' butter to grease the
+crackers with, an' some molasses an' fancy candy, an' a pound o' his
+best tea seems to me 'bout right. After that--"
+
+"Some hoss physic," broke in Toby, recommencing the chewing of his
+forefinger.
+
+But Wild Bill's fierce eyes were on Sandy, and the erstwhile married
+man felt their contempt boring into his very soul. He was held silent,
+in spite of his anger against the broad-shouldered Toby, and was
+possessed of a feeling that somehow his second effort had been no more
+successful than his first. And forthwith the impression received
+confirmation in a sudden explosion from Wild Bill.
+
+"Jumpin' mackinaw!" he cried, with a force calculated to crush
+entirely the remnants of Sandy's conceit. "You'd sure shame a crazy
+sheep fer intellect." Then he added, with withering sarcasm, "Say,
+don't you never leave your mouth open more'n two seconds at a time, or
+you'll get the flies in it, an'--they'll start nestin'."
+
+Then without pause he turned on Sunny and delivered his ultimatum.
+
+"Get busy," he ordered in a tone there was no denying.
+
+And somehow Sunny found himself stirring far more rapidly than suited
+his indolent disposition.
+
+Having thoroughly disturbed the atmosphere to his liking, Bill left
+the veranda without another look in his companions' direction, and his
+way took him to the barn at the back of the store.
+
+The gambler was a man of so many and diverse peculiarities that it
+would be an impossibility to catalogue them with any degree of
+satisfactoriness. But, with the exception of his wholesale piratical
+methods at cards--indeed, at any kind of gambling--perhaps his most
+striking feature was his almost idolatrous worship for his horses. He
+simply lived for their well-being, and their evident affection for
+himself was something that he treasured far beyond the gold he so
+loved to take from his opponents in a gamble.
+
+He possessed six of these horses, each in its way a jewel in the
+equine crown. Wherever the vagaries of his gambler's life took him his
+horses bore him thither, harnessed to a light spring cart of the
+speediest type. Each animal had cost him a small fortune, as the price
+of horses goes, and for breed and capacity, both in harness and under
+saddle, it would have been difficult to find their match anywhere in
+the State of Montana. He had broken and trained them himself in
+everything, and, wherever he was, whatever other claims there might be
+upon him, morning, noon and evening he was at the service of his
+charges. He gloried in them. He reveled in their satin coats, their
+well-nourished, muscular bodies, in their affection for himself.
+
+Now he sat on an oat-bin contemplating Gipsy's empty stall, with a
+regret that took in him the form of fierce anger. It was the first
+time since she had come into his possession that she had been turned
+over to another, the first time another leg than his own had been
+thrown across her; and he mutely upbraided himself for his folly, and
+hated Scipio for having accepted her services. Why, he asked himself
+again and again, had he been such an unearthly fool? Then through his
+mind flashed a string of blasphemous invective against James, and with
+its coming his regret at having lent Gipsy lessened.
+
+He sat for a long time steadily chewing his tobacco. And somehow
+he lost all desire to continue his poker game in the store. His
+whole mind had become absorbed by thoughts of this James, and though
+he, personally, had never suffered through the stage-robber's
+depredations, he found himself resenting the man's very existence.
+There were no ethical considerations in his mind. His inspiration
+was purely personal. And though he did not attempt to reduce his
+hatred to reason, nor to analyze it in any way, the truth of its
+existence lay in the fact of a deadly opposition to this sudden
+rise to notoriety of a man of strength, and force of character
+similar, in so many respects, to his own. Perhaps it was mere
+jealousy; perhaps, all unknown to himself, there was some deeper
+feeling underlying it. Whatever it was, he had a strong sympathy
+with Scipio, and an unconquerable desire to have a hand in the
+smoothing out of the little man's troubles.
+
+He did not leave the barn, and scarcely even took his eyes off Gipsy's
+empty stall, until nearly sundown. Then, as he heard the voices of
+returning prospectors, he set to work on his evening task of grooming,
+feeding, watering and bedding down his children for the night.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+SUNNY OAK TRIES HIS HAND
+
+
+In the meantime Sunny Oak was executing his orders with a care for
+detail quite remarkable in a man of his excessive indolence. It was a
+curious fact, and one that told a great deal of his own character, as
+well as that of the gambler. His implicit obedience to Wild Bill's
+orders was born of a deeper knowledge of that individual than was
+possessed by most of his comrades in Suffering Creek. Maybe Minky, who
+was Bill's most intimate friend, would have understood. But then Sunny
+Oak possessed no such privilege. He knew Bill through sheer
+observation, which had taught him to listen when the gambler spoke as
+he would listen to a man in high authority over him--or to a man who,
+without scruple, held him helpless under an irresistible threat. Which
+power it was inspired his obedience he did not pause to consider. He
+simply accepted the fact that when Bill ordered he preferred to
+obey--it was so much easier.
+
+"Hoboe"--the local term for one suffering from his indolent malady--as
+he was, Sunny Oak was a man of some character. Originally this cloak
+of indolence in which he wrapped himself had been assumed for some
+subtle reason of his own. It was not the actual man. But so long had
+he worn it now that he had almost forgotten the real attributes
+enshrouded in its folds. As a matter of fact, he was very much a man,
+and a "live" man, too. He really possessed an extraordinary energy
+when he chose to exercise it. But it was generally his habit to push
+his interest aside for the easier course of indifference. However, his
+capacity was none the less there.
+
+His other possessions, too, were excellent in their way, although he
+had encouraged the germ of rust in a deplorable degree. His
+good-nature would not be denied, and was obvious to all. But an
+extremely alert mind, an infinite resource of keen, well-trained
+thought, a profound love of the beautiful, a more commonplace physical
+courage supported by the rarer moral courage, he contrived to keep
+well hidden from the vulgar gaze.
+
+These were some of the features so long concealed under the folds of
+his cloak of indolence that even he had almost forgotten their
+existence. Thus it was, in all seriousness, he cried out bitterly in
+protest when an attempt was made to lift the covering and lay bare the
+man beneath it. And his lamentations were perfectly genuine.
+
+After leaving the store with a sack of provisions over his shoulder he
+grumbled his way across the dumps to Scipio's house. He cursed the
+weight he was forced to carry, and anathematized the man who had
+driven him to so bestir himself. He lamented over this waste of his
+precious energies, he consigned Scipio and his children to eternity,
+and metaphorically hurled Jessie headlong to the depths of the
+uttermost abyss of the nether-world. But he went on. In spite of his
+foulest language and vilest epithets, it was his full intention to do
+his best for the children.
+
+What he found on entering Scipio's hut set his small eyes twinkling
+again. His unclean face creased up into a grin, and, softly tiptoeing
+to a far corner of the room, he deposited his sack with the greatest
+care. Then he stood up, and his eyes fixed themselves on a curious
+heap under the table. It was a tumbled pile of pale blue, dirty white,
+with a four-legged dash of yellow. And out of the heap he made the
+forms of two small sleeping children, each hugging in their arms an
+extremity of a yellow cur pup, also sound asleep, in the shaft of
+sunlight which flooded in through the open doorway.
+
+Sunny rubbed his eyes and thought hard, nor did he find the process
+irksome. From the miserable camp pup he glanced at the grubby face of
+Jamie. Then his eyes passed on to Vada's pretty but equally dirty
+features. And swift action at once followed his thought. He glanced at
+the dying fire in the cookstove, and saw the small clothes hanging on
+the chair in front of it. He felt them; they were quite dry. Then he
+tried the kettle on the stove; it still had water in it. Then he went
+to the fuel-box; yes, there was fuel.
+
+Now with his fingers he replenished the fire, and noiselessly
+re-filled the kettle. Then he removed the clothes and put the chair
+aside. The children still slept on. He further investigated the
+resources of Scipio's _menage_. He found a wash-bowl and soap and a
+towel, three things he rarely sought for any purposes of his own.
+Then, after looking into the cupboard, he shook his head. It was
+deplorably bare of all but uncleanliness. And it was the former that
+caused his headshake, not the latter. With some pride he re-stocked
+the shelves with the liberal purchases he had made at Bill's expense.
+He had provided everything that a man's mind could conceive as being
+necessary for the interior of healthy childhood. True, he had made no
+provision for a yellow pup.
+
+By this time the kettle was boiling, and it served him as a signal. In
+a harsh, untuneful voice he began to chant an old coon-ditty. The
+effect of his music was instantaneous as regards the more sensitive
+ears of the pup. Its eyes opened, and it lifted its head alertly.
+Then, with a quick wriggle, he sat up on his hind quarters, and,
+throwing his lean, half-grown muzzle in the air, set up such a howl of
+dismay that Sunny's melody became entirely lost in a jangle of
+discords. He caught up his empty sack and flung it at the wailing
+pup's head. It missed its aim, and in a moment the twins had joined in
+their yellow friend's lament.
+
+Sunny never quite understood the real cause of that dismal
+protest--whether it was the sight of him, his doleful singing, or the
+flinging of the sack. All he knew was that it was very dreadful, and
+must be stopped as quickly as possible. So, to that end, he began to
+cajole the children, while he surreptitiously let fly a kick at the
+pup.
+
+"Say, you bonny kids, you ain't scairt o' poor Sunny Oak," he cried,
+while a streak of yellow flashed in the sunlight and vanished through
+the door, a departure which brought with it renewed efforts from the
+weeping children. "It's jest Sunny Oak wot nobody'll let rest," he
+went on coaxingly. "He's come along to feed you supper. Say," he
+cried, laboring hard for inspiration, "it's such a bully supper.
+Ther's molasses, an' candy, an'--an' lob-ster!"
+
+Whether it was the smacking of his lips as he dwelt on the last word,
+or whether it was merely the fact that their fright was passing,
+matters little; anyhow, the cries of the twins died out as suddenly as
+they began, and their eyes, big and round, gazed wonderingly up at
+Sunny's unkempt face.
+
+"Who's you, ugly man?" asked Vada at last, her brain working more
+quickly than her brother's.
+
+"'Ess--ug'y man," added Jamie unmeaningly.
+
+Sunny's hand went up to his face, and he scratched amongst his sparse
+beard as though to test the accuracy of the accusation. Then he
+grinned sheepishly.
+
+"Guess I'm jest an ugly fairy that wants to be kind to two lonesome
+kiddies," he beamed.
+
+"O--oh! You'se a fairy?" said Vada doubtfully.
+
+"'Ess," nodded Jamie, thrilling with wonderment, and eyeing him
+critically.
+
+Elated with his success, Sunny went on warmly--
+
+"Yep. Jest a fairy, an' I bro't a heap o' good grub fer you kiddies t'
+eat."
+
+But Vada's small brain was following out its own train of thought, and
+passed the food question by.
+
+"Awful ugly," she said, half to herself.
+
+"'Ess," muttered Jamie abstractedly.
+
+"Mebbe," said Sunny, with a laugh. "Wal, if you crawl right out o'
+there an' git around, I got things fixed so we'll hev' a bully time."
+
+But his proposition hadn't the effect he hoped. Instead of moving,
+Jamie suddenly beat his head with his little clenched fists.
+
+"Me wants yaller pup," he cried, and forthwith howled afresh.
+
+Again Sunny realized his helplessness, and, glancing about for further
+inspiration, caught sight of an inquiring yellow head peering
+furtively in through the doorway.
+
+"Why, ther' he is," he cried, vainly hoping to pacify the child. Then
+he began at once a clumsy encouragement of the dog. "Here, you yeller
+feller," he cried, flicking his fingers coaxingly. "Come along! Gee,
+you're a pretty feller. Hi! come along here."
+
+But the dog made no attempt to move, and Sunny began to lose patience.
+"Come along, pups," he cried, with increasing force. "Come on, you
+miser'ble rat. Don't stan' ther' waggin' your fool tail like a
+whisk-broom. Say, you yaller cur, I'll--" He started to fetch the
+creature, but in a twinkling it had fled, to the accompaniment of a
+fresh outburst from Jamie.
+
+"I tho't you was a fairy," protested Vada. "Fairies ken do most
+anything. You're jest an ugly ole man."
+
+Sunny stood up and drew the back of his hand across his perspiring
+forehead. He was worried. The fairy business was played out, and he
+felt that he must begin again. Children were by no means as easy to
+handle as he had thought. He racked his brains, and suddenly bethought
+him of another move.
+
+In spite of Jamie's whimpering, he went to the cupboard and produced a
+tin of molasses. This he carefully opened in full view of Vada's
+questioning eyes. Jamie had also become silent, watching him intently.
+He dug his finger into the sticky contents and drew it out. Then he
+licked his finger with tremendous enjoyment.
+
+"Bully," he muttered, apparently ignoring the children.
+
+Instantly Vada was on her knees, crawling from under the table,
+followed closely by her faithful shadow. She came cautiously up to
+Sunny's side and stood up.
+
+"M'lasses?" she inquired, and her eyes spoke volumes.
+
+"O-oh!" muttered Jamie, scrambling to his feet beside her holding up
+one fat hand.
+
+Sunny, without replying, allowed them to dip their fingers into the
+pot and taste the molasses. He felt that the moment was critical, and
+he would not risk words which might easily set them scuttling back to
+their stronghold.
+
+His strategy was successful. Up came the hands again, and he knew he
+had won their confidence. He allowed them another dip into the pot,
+and then began the business in hand.
+
+"We'll save the rest fer bimeby," he said decidedly. "Meanwhiles we'll
+fix things right."
+
+"Wot things?" inquired Vada.
+
+"M'lasses," said Jamie, with tearful eyes.
+
+Again Sunny felt the crisis, but he carried the situation with a firm
+hand.
+
+"Bimeby, laddie," he said cheerfully. "Meanwhiles we'll jest have a
+wash all round."
+
+And forthwith he set the wash-bowl ready and filled it with warm
+water. Then, after some consideration and trouble, having discovered a
+rag which had been used in the household "wash-up," and a piece of
+soap, he prepared to start on little Vada. But she instantly
+protested.
+
+"You first, Mister Fairy," she said cheerfully. "My poppa allus washes
+first. Then we has his water."
+
+"'Ess," agreed Jamie.
+
+And, to his disgust, Sunny was forced to an unwilling ablution, which,
+by strategy, he had hoped to escape. However, the ordeal was manfully
+borne, and his reward was quite worth his trouble. Vada promptly
+exclaimed when she saw his face emerge from the dirty towel, shining
+with grease off the house-flannel.
+
+"You'se a fairy, sure," she cried, clapping her hands and dancing
+about gleefully. "On'y fairies can change theirselves. You'se a
+pretty, pretty man--now. Now, Jamie dear. You next," she added, with
+feminine assurance. And with clumsy but willing enough hands Sunny Oak
+contrived to cleanse his charges.
+
+By the time his task was accomplished perfect good-will reigned all
+round, and the climax was reached when the yellow pup returned of its
+own accord, and was promptly hugged to Jamie's affectionate little
+bosom.
+
+The next thing was to prepare the children's supper. This was a far
+more serious matter for the loafer. But he finally achieved it, having
+learnt, by the process of cross-questioning the girl, what was usual
+and therefore expected. However, it was not without some difficulty
+that he succeeded in providing an adequate meal, which consisted of
+bread and milk, with bread and molasses as a sort of dessert. For
+himself, he was forced to fare off a tin of lobster and tea. Still,
+his difficulties were not of much consequence so long as the children
+were satisfied. And any bother to himself was his own fault, in having
+relied for a moment on Sandy Joyce's ideas of a menu.
+
+Supper over and the table cleared, he decided on further catechizing
+little Vada on points that still were a mystery to him. So, with Jamie
+busy on the floor endeavoring to solve the mystery of the pup's
+wagging tail, he lit his pipe and took Vada on his knee. He
+endeavored to recall incidents of his own childhood; to remember
+something of his own early routine. But somehow nothing was very
+clear.
+
+He had washed the children and given them food. Those things seemed to
+him to be perfectly sound. Well, what next? It was a little difficult.
+He glanced at the sun. Surely bed would be quite in order. Bed--ah,
+yes, that was a happy thought. He remembered now, when he was young he
+always used to get himself into trouble purposely so they would send
+him to bed. But with this thought came the regretful recollection that
+his predilection for bed was quickly discovered, and his further
+penalties took the form of the buckle end of his father's waist-belt.
+However, he put the proposition with much tact.
+
+"Say, kiddies," he began, "how soon does your momma put you to bed?"
+
+Vada shook her wise little head.
+
+"Momma don't. Poppa does."
+
+"And when's that?" he inquired, driving at his point deliberately.
+
+"When momma says."
+
+Vada was fastening and unfastening the man's dirty waistcoat with
+great interest.
+
+"An' when does your momma say it?" Sunny persisted.
+
+"When poppa's done the chores."
+
+"Ah!"
+
+He felt himself on the wrong tack, and cast about for a fresh line of
+argument.
+
+"Guess you kiddies like bed some," he hazarded doubtfully.
+
+"Me like m'lasses," piped Jamie, who had managed to get the pup's tail
+over his shoulder, and was hanging on to it with both hands. Vada
+shrieked as the pup began to yelp.
+
+"Oh, look at Jamie," she cried. "He's pulling Dougal's tail right out.
+You're a naughty, naughty boy."
+
+"Not naughty," protested Jamie, pulling harder.
+
+Sunny reached down and released the mongrel, who promptly turned round
+and licked the boy's face. Jamie fought him with his little clenched
+fists, and finally began to cry.
+
+Again Sunny went to the rescue, and with some difficulty peace was
+restored. Then he went back to his subject.
+
+"Guess we'll hev to go to bed right now," he suggested, with an air of
+authority.
+
+"Momma ain't back," said Vada, her eyes round and wondering.
+
+"She'll be right along presently," lied Sunny.
+
+"'Ess," declared Jamie, "an'--an'--we go find 'piders an'--an' bugs."
+
+Vada nodded.
+
+"Lots an' lots."
+
+"That's to-morrow," said Sunny, taking his cue wonderingly.
+
+"Poppa ain't back neither," protested Vada.
+
+"He's gone visitin'," said Sunny. "Maybe he'll be late. Guess he's
+havin' a hand at poker down at the store."
+
+Sunny was getting uncomfortably hot. Lies came easily enough to him in
+the ordinary way, but with these poor children it was somehow
+different.
+
+"Poppa don't play poker," defended Vada. "On'y wicked men does."
+
+"'Ess," agreed Jamie.
+
+"That's so." Sunny felt himself on dangerous ground.
+
+He smoked on thoughtfully for some moments. He felt that a desperate
+move was required, and considered how best to make it. Finally he
+resolved that he must assert his authority. So, setting Vada on the
+ground, he stood up.
+
+"Bed," he said, with a great assumption of finality.
+
+Vada's eyes rolled ominously, and a pucker came to her little sunburnt
+brow. Jamie offered no preliminary, but howled at once. And when,
+after the slightest hesitation, Vada joined in his lament, Sunny's
+distress became pitiable. However, he managed to ease his feelings by
+several well-directed mental curses at Wild Bill's head, and all those
+others concerned in reducing him to his present position. And with
+this silently furious outburst there came a brain-wave of great
+magnitude.
+
+"First in bed sure gets most m'lasses," he cried, darting to the
+cupboard door and holding the well-smeared pot up above his head.
+
+The children's cries ceased, and for a second they stood staring up at
+him. Then, like a pair of rabbits, they turned and ran for the
+bedroom, vanishing behind the curtain amidst shrieking excitement.
+Sunny followed them with the molasses and a handful of crackers.
+
+They were both on the bed when he passed into the room, huddling down
+under a couple of cotton blankets. The man glanced round him. On the
+other side of the room was the big bed where their father and mother
+slept. Both beds were unmade, and the room was littered with feminine
+garments in a manner that suggested the mother's hasty flight.
+Hardened as he was, the sight and all it suggested depressed him. But
+he was not allowed much time for reflection. Two childish voices
+shrieked at him at once.
+
+"Me first!" they cried in one breath.
+
+And Sunny ladled them out molasses and crackers to their hearts'
+content. When they had eaten all he thought good for them Vada
+scrambled to her knees.
+
+"Prayers," she said, and clasped her hands before her face.
+
+Jamie wobbled up to her side and imitated her. And Sunny stood by
+listening wonderingly to something that brought back a world of
+recollection to him. It brought him more. It laid before him a mental
+picture of his present manhood which somehow nauseated him. But he
+stood his ground till the final "Amens," then he hustled the twins
+almost roughly into the blankets, and, having extracted a promise from
+them not to leave the bed again until he returned, hurried out of the
+room.
+
+He stood for a moment in the living-room. He was in a doubt that
+almost confused him. Mechanically he looked at the stove. The fire was
+quite safe. The window was secure. Then he moved to the door. There
+was a lock to it and a key. He passed out, and, locking the door
+behind him, removed the key.
+
+"Gee!" he exclaimed, drinking in a breath of the evening air, "five
+minutes more o' that an' I'd 'a' bin singin' funeral hymns over my
+past life. Gee!"
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+Ten minutes later he was in Wild Bill's hut down at the camp, and had
+finished his account of his adventures.
+
+"Say," he finished up peevishly, "ther's things a feller can do, an'
+things he sure can't. I tell you right here I ain't learned how to
+cluck to my chicks, an' I ain't never scratched a worm in my life. I
+'low I'm too old to git busy that ways now. If you're goin' to raise
+them kids fer Zip while he's away, it'll need a committee o' us
+fellers. It's more'n one feller's job--much more. It needs a wummin."
+
+Bill listened patiently until his deputy had aired his final
+grievance. His fierce eyes had in them a peculiar twinkle that was
+quite lost on Sunny in his present mood. However, when the injured man
+had finished his tale of woe the gambler stretched his long legs out,
+and lolled back in his chair with a fresh chew of tobacco in his
+mouth.
+
+"You ain't done too bad," he said judicially. "That m'lasses racket
+was a heap smart. Though--say, you'll get around ther' come sun-up
+to-morrer, an' you'll fix 'em right all day. Maybe Zip'll be back
+later. Anyways, you'll fix 'em."
+
+"Not on your life--" began Sunny, in fierce rebellion. But Bill cut
+him short.
+
+"You'll do it, Sunny," he cried, "an' don't you make no mistake."
+
+The man's manner was irresistibly threatening, and Sunny was beaten
+back into moody silence. But if looks could have killed, Bill's
+chances of life were small indeed.
+
+"Guess you're off duty now," the gambler went on icily. "You're off
+duty till--sun-up. You're free to get drunk, or--what in hell you
+like."
+
+Sunny rose from his seat. His rebellious eyes were fiercely alight as
+he regarded his master.
+
+"May your soul rot!" he cried venomously. And with this final impotent
+explosion he slouched out of the hut.
+
+"Dessay it will," Bill called after him amiably. "But it ain't started
+yet."
+
+But his jibe was quite lost on the angry Sunny, for he had left him
+with the haste of a man driven to fear of whither his anger might
+carry him.
+
+Left alone, Wild Bill chuckled. He liked Sunny, but despised his mode
+of life with all the arrogant superiority of a man of great force,
+even if of indifferent morals. He had no patience with a weakened
+manhood. With him it was only strength that counted. Morality was only
+for those who had not the courage to face a mysterious future
+unflinchingly. The future concerned him not at all. He had no fears of
+anybody or anything, either human or superhuman. Death offered him no
+more terrors than Life. And whichever was his portion he was ready to
+accept it unquestioningly, unprotestingly.
+
+He allowed the hoboe time to get well clear of his shack. Then he
+stood up and began to pace the room thoughtfully. A desperate frown
+depressed his brows until they met over the bridge of his large thin
+nose. Something was working swiftly, even passionately, in his brain,
+and it was evident that his thoughts were more than unpleasant to
+himself. As the moments passed his strides became more aggressive, and
+his movements were accompanied by gesticulations of a threatening
+nature with his clenched fists.
+
+At last he paused in his walk, and dropped again into his chair. Here
+he sat for a long while. Then, of a sudden, he lifted his head and
+glanced swiftly about his bare room. Finally he sprang to his feet and
+crushed his slouch hat on his head, and, crossing over to the oil-lamp
+on the table, blew it out. Then he passed out into the night, slamming
+and locking the door behind him.
+
+The night was dark, and the moon would not rise for at least another
+hour. The air was still laden with the heat of the long summer's day,
+and it hummed with the music of stirring insect life. He strode along
+the trail past the store. He glanced at the lighted windows longingly,
+for he had an appointment for a game in there that night. But he
+passed on.
+
+As he came to the camp dumps he paused for a moment to take his
+bearings. Then he continued his way with long, decided strides, and in
+a few minutes the dim outline of Scipio's house loomed up before him.
+He came close up, and walked slowly round it. At one window he paused,
+listening. There was not a sound to be heard outside. At the window of
+the bedroom he listened a long time. No, he could not even hear the
+children breathing.
+
+At last he reached the door which Sunny had locked. He cautiously
+tried the handle, and the sound brought a whimper from the yellow pup
+within. He cursed the animal softly under his breath and waited,
+hoping the wretched creature would settle down again. He heard it
+snuff at the foot of the door, and then the soft patter of its feet
+died away, and he knew that the poor thing had satisfied itself that
+all was well.
+
+He smiled, and sat down at the foot of the door. And, with his knees
+drawn up into his arms, he prepared for his long vigil. It was the
+posting of the night sentry over Scipio's twins.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+WILD BILL THINKS HARD--AND HEARS NEWS
+
+
+Wild Bill stretched himself drowsily. It was noon. He knew that by the
+position of the patch of sunlight on the floor, which he gazed at with
+blinking eyes. Presently he reached out his long arms and clasped his
+hands behind his head. He lay there on his stretcher bed, still very
+sleepy, but with wakefulness gaining ascendancy rapidly. He had
+completed two successive nights of "sentry-go" over Scipio's twins,
+never reaching his blankets until well after sun-up.
+
+For some minutes he enjoyed the delicious idleness of a still brain.
+Then, at last, it stirred to an activity which once again set flowing
+all the busy thought of his long night's vigil. Further rest became
+impossible to a man of his temperament, and he sprang from his
+blankets and plunged his face into a bucket of fresh water which stood
+on an adjacent bench. In five minutes he was ready for the business of
+the day.
+
+It was to be a day of activity. He felt that. Yet he had made no
+definite plans. Only all his thoughts of the previous night warned him
+that something must be done, and that it was "up to him to get busy."
+
+A long wakeful night is apt to distort many things of paramount
+interest. But the morning light generally reduces them to their proper
+focus. Thus it is with people who are considered temperamental. But
+Bill had no such claims. He was hard, unimaginative, and of keen
+decision. And overnight he had arrived at one considerable decision.
+How he had arrived at it he hardly knew. Perhaps it was one of those
+decisions that cannot be helped. Certain it was that it had been
+arrived at through no definite course of reasoning. It had simply
+occurred to him and received his approval at once. An approval, which,
+once given, was rarely, if ever, rescinded. This was the man.
+
+He had first thought a great deal about Scipio. He felt that the time
+had come when his fate must be closely inquired into. The blundering
+efforts of Sunny Oak were so hopelessly inadequate in the care of the
+children, that only the return of their father could save them from
+some dire domestic catastrophe.
+
+Sunny apparently meant well by them. But Bill hated well-meaning
+people who disguised their incompetence under the excellence of their
+intentions. Besides, in this case it was so useless. These two
+children were a nuisance, he admitted, but they must not be allowed to
+suffer through Sunny's incompetence. No, their father must be found.
+
+Then there was his mare, Gipsy; and when he thought of her he went hot
+with an alarm which no threat to himself could have inspired. This
+turn of thought brought James into his focus. That personage was
+rarely far from it, and he needed very little prompting to bring the
+outlaw into the full glare of his mental limelight. He hated James. He
+had seen him rarely, and spoken to him perhaps only a dozen times,
+when he first appeared on Suffering Creek. But he hated him as though
+he were his most bitter personal enemy.
+
+He had no reason to offer for this hatred, beyond the outlaw's known
+depredations and the constant threat of his presence in the district.
+At least no reason he would have admitted publicly. But then Wild Bill
+was not a man to bother with reasons much at any time. And it was the
+venomous hatred of the man which now drove him to a decision of the
+first importance. And such was his satisfaction in the interest of his
+decision, that, for the time being, at least, poker was robbed of its
+charm, faro had become a game of no consequence whatever, and gambling
+generally, with all its subtleties as he understood them, was no
+longer worth while. He had decided upon a game with a higher stake
+than any United States currency could afford. It was a game of life
+and death. James, "Lord" James, as he contemptuously declared, must
+go. There was no room for him in the same district as Wild Bill of
+Abilene.
+
+It would be useless to seek the method by which this decision was
+reached. In a man such as Bill the subtleties of his motives were far
+too involved and deeply hidden. The only possible chance of estimating
+the truth would be to question his associates as to their opinion. And
+even then such opinions would be biased by personal understanding of
+the man, and so would be of but small account.
+
+Thus Minky would probably have declared that his decision was the
+result of his desire for the welfare of the community in which he
+claimed his best friends. Sandy Joyce would likely have shaken his
+head, and declared it was the possibility of something having happened
+to his mare Gipsy. Toby Jenks might have had a wild idea that Bill had
+made his "pile" on the "crook" and was "gettin' religion." Sunny Oak,
+whose shrewd mind spent most of its time in studying the peculiarities
+of his fellows, might have whispered an opinion to himself, when no
+one was about, to the effect that Bill couldn't stand for a rival
+"boss" around Suffering Creek.
+
+Any of these opinions might have been right, just as any of them might
+have been very wide of the mark. Anyhow, certain it is that no citizen
+of Suffering Creek would, even when thoroughly drunk, have accused
+Bill of any leaning towards sentimentalism or chivalry. The idea that
+he cared two cents for what became of Scipio, or his wife, or his
+children, it would have been impossible to have driven into their
+heads with a sledge-hammer. And maybe they would have been right. Who
+could tell?
+
+His decision was taken without any definite argument, without any
+heroics. He frankly declared to himself that James must go. And having
+decided, he, equally frankly, declared that "the proposition was up to
+him." This was his silent ultimatum, and, having delivered it, there
+was no turning back. He would carry it out with as little mercy to
+himself as he would show to any other concerned.
+
+The men of Suffering Creek thought they knew this man. But it is
+doubtful if anybody, even the man himself, knew Wild Bill. Probably
+the nearest approach to a fair estimate of him would have been to
+describe him as a sort of driving force to a keen brain and hot,
+passionate heart. Whether he possessed any of the gentler human
+feelings only his acts could show, for so hard and unyielding was his
+manner, so ruthless his purpose when his mind was made up, that it
+left little room for the ordinary observer to pack in a belief of the
+softer side to the man.
+
+Ten minutes after performing his primitive ablutions Wild Bill was
+eating breakfast in the dining-room at the store, with Minky sitting
+opposite to him. The storekeeper was telling him of something that
+happened the night before, with a troubled expression in his honest
+eyes.
+
+"I was wonderin' when you'd get around," he said, as soon as Birdie
+Mason had withdrawn to the kitchen. "I'd have given a deal for you to
+have been playin' last night. I would sure. There was three fellers,
+strangers, lookin' for a hand at poker. They'd got a fine wad o'
+money, too, and were ready for a tall game. They got one with Irish
+O'Brien, an' Slade o' Kentucky, but they ain't fliers, an' the
+strangers hit 'em good an' plenty. Guess they must ha' took five
+hundred dollars out of 'em."
+
+Bill's sharp eyes were suddenly lifted from his plate. He was eating
+noisily.
+
+"Did you locate 'em--the strangers?" he grated.
+
+"That's sure the pinch," said Minky, wiping his broad forehead with a
+colored handkerchief. The heat in the dining-room was oppressive.
+"I've never see 'em before, an' they didn't seem like talkin' a heap.
+They were all three hard-lookin' citizens, an'--might ha' been
+anything from bum cowpunchers to--"
+
+"Sharps," put in Bill, between noisy sips at his coffee.
+
+"Yes."
+
+Minky watched a number of flies settle on a greasy patch on the bare
+table.
+
+"Y'see," he went on, after a thoughtful pause, "I don't like strangers
+who don't seem ready tongued--none of us do, since the stage-robbin'
+set in."
+
+"You mean--" Bill set his cup down.
+
+Minky nodded.
+
+"We ain't sent out a parcel of gold for months, an' I'm kind o' full
+up with dust about now. Y'see, the boys has got to cash their stuff,
+and I'm here to make trade, so--wal, I jest got to fill myself with
+gold-dust, an' take my chances. I'm mighty full just now--an'
+strangers worry me some."
+
+"You're weakenin'," said Bill sharply, but his eyes were serious, and
+suggested a deep train of swift thought. Presently he reached a piece
+of bread and spread molasses on it.
+
+"Guess you're figgerin' it 'ud be safer to empty out."
+
+Minky nodded.
+
+"And these strangers?" Bill went on.
+
+"They've lit out," said Minky ruefully. "I ast a few questions of the
+boys. They rode out at sun-up."
+
+"Where did they sleep?"
+
+"Don't know. Nobody seems to know."
+
+Minky sighed audibly. And Bill went on eating.
+
+"Ain't heerd nothing o' Zip?" the storekeeper inquired presently.
+
+"No."
+
+"'Bout that mare o' yours?"
+
+Bill's face suddenly flushed, and his fierce brows drew together in an
+ominous frown, but he made no answer. Minky saw the change and edged
+off.
+
+"It's time he was gettin' around."
+
+Bill nodded.
+
+"I was kind of wonderin'," Minky went on thoughtfully, "if he don't
+turn up--wot's to happen with them kids?"
+
+"I ain't figgered."
+
+Bill's interest was apparently wandering.
+
+"He'll need to be gettin' around or--somethin's got to be done," Minky
+drifted on vaguely.
+
+"Sure."
+
+"Y'see, Sunny's jest a hoboe."
+
+"Sure."
+
+"Don't guess Zip's claim amounts to pea-shucks neither," the
+storekeeper went on, his mind leaning towards the financial side of
+the matter.
+
+"No."
+
+"Them kids'll cost money, too."
+
+Bill nodded, but no one could have detected any interest in his
+movement.
+
+"How'd it be to get that claim worked for him--while he's away?"
+
+Bill shrugged.
+
+"Mebbe Zip'll be gettin' back," he said.
+
+"An' if he don't."
+
+"You mean?"
+
+There was interest enough in Bill now. His interrogation was full of
+suppressed force.
+
+"Yes. James."
+
+Bill sprang to his feet and kicked back his chair. The sudden rage in
+his eyes was startling, even to Minky, who was used to the man.
+However, he waited, and in a moment or two his friend was talking
+again in his usually cold tone.
+
+"I'll jest git around an' see how Sunny's doin'," he said.
+
+Then he drew out a pipe and began to cut flakes of tobacco from a
+black plug.
+
+"See here, Minky," he went on, after a moment's pause. "You need to do
+some thinkin'. How much dust have you got in the store?"
+
+"'Bout twenty thousand dollars."
+
+"Whew!" Bill whistled softly as he packed the tobacco in his pipe. "An
+elegant parcel for strangers to handle."
+
+The storekeeper's face became further troubled.
+
+"It sure is--if they handle it."
+
+"Jest so."
+
+Bill's pipe was alight now, and he puffed at it vigorously, speaking
+between the puffs.
+
+"Y'see, this feller James plays a big game. Cattle duffin' and
+ord'n'ry stage-robbin' ain't good enough, nor big enough, to run his
+gang on. He needs gold stages, and we ain't sendin' gold stages out.
+Wal, wot's the conclusion? I ast you?"
+
+"He'll hev to light out, or--"
+
+"Jest so. Or he'll get around here to--look into things. Those
+strangers last night were mebbe 'lookin' into things.' You'll need to
+stow that dust where the rats can't gnaw it. Later we'll think things
+out. Meanwhile there's one thing sure, we don't need strangers on
+Suffering Creek. There's enough o' the boys around to work the gold,
+an' when they get it they mostly know what to do with it. Guess I'll
+get on up to Zip's shack."
+
+The two men walked out into the store. Minky in a pessimistic mood
+passed in behind his counter. This question of gold had bothered him
+for some weeks. Since the first stage-robbing, and James' name had
+become a "terror" in the district, he had opened a sort of banking
+business for the prospectors. Commercially it appealed to him
+enormously. The profits under his primitive methods of dealing with
+the matter were dazzlingly large, and, in consequence, the business
+became a dominant portion of his trade. Nor was it until the quantity
+of gold he bought began to grow, and mount into thousands of dollars'
+worth, that the difficulties of his traffic began to force themselves
+upon him. Then it was that he realized that if it was insecure to
+dispatch a gold stage laden with the property of the prospectors, how
+was he to be able to hold his stock at the store with any greater
+degree of security.
+
+The more he thought of the matter the greater the difficulties
+appeared. Of course he saw possibilities, but none of them offered the
+security he needed. Then worry set in. History might easily repeat
+itself on Suffering Creek. James' gang was reported to be a large one.
+Well, what if he chose to sweep down upon the camp, and clean the
+place out. Herein lay the trouble. And in consequence his days and
+nights were none too easy.
+
+He had never spoken of the matter before. It was not a subject to be
+discussed with anybody. But Bill was different from the rest, and, for
+several days, Minky had sought an opportunity of unburdening himself
+to his friend. Now, at last, he had done so, and, in return, had
+received small enough comfort. Still he felt he had done the best
+thing.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+THE FORERUNNER OF THE TRUST
+
+
+Bill passed straight through the store and set out across the town
+dumps. And it would have been impossible to guess how far he was
+affected by Minky's plaint. His face might have been a stone wall for
+all expression it had of what was passing behind it. His cold eyes
+were fixed upon the hut ahead of him without apparent interest or
+meaning. His thoughts were his own at all times.
+
+As he drew near he heard Sunny's voice raised in song, and he listened
+intently, wondering the while if the loafer had any idea of its
+quality. It was harsh, nasal and possessed as much tune as a freshly
+sharpened "buzz-saw." But his words were distinct. Far too distinct
+Bill thought with some irritation.
+
+  "A farmer ast the other day if we wanted work.
+  Sez we, 'Ol' man, the labour?' Sez he, 'It's binding wheat.'
+  Sez we, 'Ol' man, the figger?' 'A dollar an' a ha'f the sum.'
+  Sez we, 'Ol' man, go an' tickle yerself, we'd a durned sight sooner
+        bum!'
+
+  'Anythin' at all, marm, we're nearly starvin',
+  Anything to hel-l-lp the bummers on their wa-ay,
+  We are three bums an' jolly good chums,
+  An' we live like Royal Turks,
+  An' with good luck we bum our chuck,
+  An' it's a fool of a man wot works.'"
+
+Just as Sunny was about to begin the next verse Bill appeared in the
+doorway, and the vocalist was reduced to a pained silence by his harsh
+criticism.
+
+"You'd orter be rootin' kebbeges on a hog ranch wi' that voice," he
+said icily. "You're sure the worst singer in America."
+
+Then he glanced round for the children. They were nowhere to be seen.
+Sunny was at the cookstove boiling milk in a tin "billy." His face was
+greasy with perspiration, and, even to Bill's accustomed eyes, he
+looked dirtier than ever. He stood now with a spoon poised, just as he
+had lifted it out of the pot at the moment of the other's entrance.
+
+"Where's the kids?" the latter demanded sharply.
+
+Sunny shifted his feet a little uneasily and glanced round the dirty
+room. The place looked as though it hadn't been cleaned for a month.
+There was a hideous accumulation of unwashed utensils scattered
+everywhere. The floor was unswept, let alone unwashed. And the smell
+of stale food and general mustiness helped to add to the keenness of
+the visitor's nervous edge as he waited for the man's reply.
+
+"Guess they're out on the dumps playin' at findin' gold," Sunny said,
+with a slightly forced laugh. "Y'see, little Vada's staked out a claim
+on a patch of elegant garbage, an' is digging fer worms. Them's the
+gold. An' Jamie's playin' 'bad man' an' swoopin' down on her and
+sneakin' her worms. It's a new game. Y'see, I thought it out and
+taught 'em how to play it. They're a heap struck on it, too. I--"
+
+But words somehow failed him under the baleful stare of the other's
+eyes. And turning back to the milk he fell into a stupid silence.
+
+"You'll get right out an' huyk them kiddies off'n those dumps," cried
+Bill sharply. "You got no more sense in your idjot head than to slep
+when your eyes shut. Diggin' worms on the dumps! Gee! Say, if it ain't
+enough to give 'em bile and measles, an'--an' spots, then I don't know
+a 'deuce-spot' from a hay-rake. Git right out, you loafin' bum, an'
+fetch 'em in, an' then get the muck off'n your face, an' clean this
+doggone shack up. I'd sure say you was a travelin' hospital o' disease
+by the look of you. I'm payin' you a wage and a heap good one, so git
+out--an' I'll see to that darn milk."
+
+Argument was out of the question, so Sunny adopted the easier course
+of obedience to his employer's orders. He dropped the spoon into the
+milk with a suddenness that suggested resentment, and shuffled out,
+muttering. But Bill followed him to the door.
+
+"How?" he inquired threateningly.
+
+"I didn't say nothin'," lied Sunny.
+
+"I didn't jest guess you did," retorted Bill sarcastically. And he
+watched his man hurry out into the sunlight with eyes that had somehow
+become less severe.
+
+He waited where he was for some moments. Then he turned back into the
+room and stared disgustedly about him.
+
+"If a feller can't fix two kiddies right an' cook 'em pap without
+mussin' things till you feel like dying o' colic at the sight, he
+ain't fit to rob hogs of rootin' space," he muttered. "I'd--Gee-whiz!
+Ther's that doggone milk raising blue murder wi'--"
+
+He rushed to the stove where the boiling milk was pouring over the
+sides of the pot in a hissing, bubbling stream. He clutched at the
+"billy," scalding his fingers badly, jerked it off the stove, upset
+the contents on the floor and flung the pot itself across the room,
+where it fell with a clatter upon a pile of dirty tin plates and
+pannikins. He swore violently and sucked his injured fingers,
+while, in angry dismay, he contemplated the additional mess his
+carelessness had caused. And at that moment Sunny returned, leading
+two grubby-faced infants by the hand.
+
+"I got 'em back," he cried cheerfully. Then his shrewd eyes took in
+the situation at a glance, and they sparkled with malicious glee.
+
+"Gee," he cried, releasing the youngsters and pointing at the mess on
+the stove and floor. "Now ain't that a real pity? Say, how d'you come
+to do that? It sure ain't a heap of trouble heatin' a drop o' milk.
+Most any fule ken do that. I tho't you savvied that, I sure did, or
+I'd ha' put you wise. Y'see, you should jest let it ha' come to the
+bile, an' then whip it off quick. My, but it's real foolish! Ten cents
+o' milk wasted for want of a little sense."
+
+"Our dinner milk," cried Vada in consternation. "All gone."
+
+"All dorn," echoed Jamie, flinging himself on the floor and dipping
+his fingers into the mess and licking them with grave appreciation.
+
+In a moment he was joined by the inevitable yellow pup, which burnt
+its tongue and set up a howl. Vada ran to the animal's assistance,
+fell over Jamie's sprawling legs and rolled heavily in the mess.
+
+For some seconds confusion reigned. Sunny darted to Vada's rescue,
+sent the pup flying with a well-directed kick, picked the weeping girl
+up, and tried to shake some of the milk from her dirty clothing. While
+Bill grabbed Jamie out of the way of any further mischief. The boy
+struggled furiously to free himself.
+
+"Me want dinner milk," he shouted, and beat the gambler's chest with
+both his little fists.
+
+"You kicked Dougal!" wailed Vada, from under Sunny's arm.
+
+And at that moment a mild voice reached them from the open doorway--
+
+"Why, what's happenin'?"
+
+Bill and Sunny turned at once. And the next instant the children were
+shrieking in quite a different tone.
+
+"Pop-pa," they shouted, with all the power of their childish lungs.
+The men released them, and, with a rush, they hurled themselves upon
+the small person of their father.
+
+Scipio set a bundle he was carrying upon the floor and scrambled Jamie
+into his arms and kissed him. Then he kissed Vada. After that he stood
+up, and, in a peculiarly dazed fashion gazed about him, out of a pair
+of blackened and bloodshot eyes, while the children continued to cling
+to him.
+
+The two onlookers never took their eyes off him. Sunny Oak gazed with
+unfeigned astonishment and alarm, but Bill merely stared. The little
+man was a pitiable object. His clothes were tattered. His face was
+bruised and cut, and dry blood was smeared all round his mouth. Both
+eyes were black, and in one of them the white was changed to a bright
+scarlet.
+
+James' men had done their work all too well. They had handled their
+victim with the brutality of the savages they were.
+
+Scipio let his eyes rest on Bill, and, after a moment's hesitation, as
+though gathering together his still scattered wits, spoke his
+gratitude.
+
+"It was real kind of you lendin' me Gipsy. I set her back in the barn.
+She's come to no harm. She ain't got saddle-sore, nor--nor nothin'.
+Maybe she's a bit tuckered, but she's none the worse, sure."
+
+Bill clicked his tongue, but made no other response. At that moment it
+would have been impossible for him to have expressed the thoughts
+passing through his fierce mind. Sunny, however, was more superficial.
+Words were bursting from his lips. And when he spoke his first remark
+was a hopeless inanity.
+
+"You got back?" he questioned.
+
+Scipio's poor face worked into the ghost of a smile.
+
+"Yes," he said. And the awkwardness of the meeting drove him to
+silently caressing his children.
+
+Presently Sunny, who was not delicate-minded, pointed at his face.
+
+"You--you had a fall?"
+
+Scipio shook his head.
+
+"You see, I found him and--his boys got rough," he explained simply.
+
+"Gee!"
+
+There was no mistaking Sunny's anger. He forgot his usual lazy
+indifference. For once he was stirred to a rage that was as active and
+volcanic as one of Wild Bill's sudden passions.
+
+But the gambler at last found his tongue, and Sunny was given no
+further opportunity.
+
+"What you got there?" he asked, pointing at the parcel Scipio had
+deposited on the floor.
+
+The little man glanced down at it.
+
+"That?" he said hazily. "Oh, that's bacon an' things. I got 'em from
+Minky on my way up. He told me you'd sure got grub up here, an' I
+didn't need to get things. But I guessed I couldn't let you do all
+this now I'm back. Say," he added, becoming more alert. "I want to
+thank you both, you bin real good helping me out."
+
+Bill swallowed some tobacco juice, and coughed violently. Sunny was
+eaten up with a rage he could scarcely restrain. But Scipio turned to
+the children, who were now clinging silently to his moleskin
+trousers.
+
+"Guess we'll get busy an' fix things up," he said, laying caressing
+hands upon them. "You'll need your dinners, sure. Poppa's got nice
+bacon. How's that?"
+
+"Bully," cried Vada promptly. Now that she had her father again
+everything was "bully." But Jamie was silently staring up at the man's
+distorted features. He didn't understand.
+
+Wild Bill recovered from his coughing, suddenly bestirred himself.
+
+"Guess we'd best git goin', Sunny," he said quietly. "Zip'll likely
+need to fix things up some. Y'see, Zip," he went on, turning to the
+father, "Sunny's done his best to kep things goin' right. He's fed the
+kiddies, which was the most ne'ssary thing. As for keppin' the place
+clean,"--he pointed at the small sea of milk which still stood in
+pools on the floor--"I don't guess he's much when it comes to cleanin'
+anything--not even hisself. I 'low he's wrecked things some. Ther's a
+heap of milk wasted. Howsum--"
+
+"Say!" cried the outraged Sunny. But Bill would allow no interruption.
+
+"We'll git goin'," he said, with biting coldness. "Come right along.
+So long, Zip," he added, with an unusual touch of gentleness. "I'll be
+along to see you later. We need to talk some."
+
+He moved over to Sunny's side, and his hand closed upon his arm. And
+somehow his grip kept the loafer silent until they passed out of the
+hut. Once outside the gambler threw his shoulders back and breathed
+freely. But he offered no word. Only Sunny was inclined to talk.
+
+"Say, he's had a desprit bad time," he said, with eyes ablaze.
+
+But Bill still remained silent. Nor did another word pass between them
+until they reached Minky's store.
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+The moment they had departed Scipio glanced forlornly round his home.
+It was a terrible home-coming. Three days ago in spite of all
+set-backs and shortcomings, hope had run high in his heart. Now--He
+left the twins standing and walked to the bedroom door. He looked in.
+But the curtains dropped from his nerveless fingers and he turned back
+to the living room, sick in mind and heart. For one moment his eyes
+stared unmeaningly at the children. Then he sat down on the chair
+nearest the table and beckoned them over to him. They came, thrilled
+with awe in their small wondering minds. Their father's distorted
+features fascinated yet horrified them.
+
+Jamie scrambled to one knee and Vada hugged one of the little man's
+arms.
+
+"We'll have to have dinner, kiddies," he said, with attempted
+lightness.
+
+"Ess," said Jamie absently. Then he reached up to the wound on his
+father's right cheek, and touched it gently with one small finger. It
+was so sore that the man flinched, and the child's hand was withdrawn
+instantly.
+
+"Oose's hurted," he exclaimed.
+
+"Pore poppa's all hurt up," added Vada tearfully.
+
+"Not hurt proper," said Scipio, with a wan smile. "Y'see, it was jest
+a game, an'--an' the boys were rough. Now we'll git dinner."
+
+But Vada's mind was running on with swift childish curiosity, and she
+put a sudden question.
+
+"When's momma comin' back?" she demanded.
+
+The man's eyes shifted to the open doorway. The golden sunlight beyond
+was shining with all the splendor of a summer noon. But for all his
+blackened eyes saw there might have been a gray fog of winter
+outside.
+
+"Momma?" he echoed blankly.
+
+"Ess, momma," cried Jamie. "When she comin'?"
+
+Scipio shook his head and sighed.
+
+"When she comin'?" insisted Vada.
+
+The man lowered his eyes till they focused themselves upon the yellow
+pup, now hungrily licking up the cold milk.
+
+"She won't come back," he said at last, in a low voice. Then with a
+despairing gesture, he added: "Never! never!" And his head dropped
+upon Jamie's little shoulder while he hugged Vada more closely to his
+side as though he feared to lose her too.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+THE TRUST
+
+
+It was a blazing afternoon of the "stewing" type. The flies in the
+store kept up a sickening hum, and tortured suffering humanity--in the
+form of the solitary Minky--with their persistent efforts to alight on
+his perspiring face and bare arms. The storekeeper, with excellent
+forethought, had showered sticky papers, spread with molasses and
+mucilage, broadcast about the shelves, to ensnare the unwary pests.
+But though hundreds were lured to their death by sirupy drowning, the
+attacking host remained undiminished, and the death-traps only
+succeeded in adding disgusting odors to the already laden atmosphere.
+Fortunately, noses on Suffering Creek were not over-sensitive, and the
+fly, with all his native unpleasantness, was a small matter in the
+scheme of the frontiersman's life, and, like all other obstructions,
+was brushed aside physically as well as mentally.
+
+The afternoon quiet had set in. The noon rush had passed, nor would
+the re-awakening of the camp occur until evening. Ordinarily the quiet
+of the long afternoon would have been pleasant enough to the
+hard-working storekeeper. For surely there is something approaching
+delight in the leisure moments of a day's hard and prosperous work.
+But just now Minky had little ease of mind. And these long hours, when
+the camp was practically deserted, had become a sort of nightmare to
+him. The gold-dust stored in the dim recesses of his cellars haunted
+him. The outlaw, James, was a constant dread. For he felt that his
+store held a bait which might well be irresistible to that individual.
+Experienced as he was in the ways of frontier life, the advent of the
+strangers of the night before had started a train of alarm which
+threatened quickly to grow into panic.
+
+He was pondering this matter when Sunny Oak, accompanied by the
+careless Toby Jenks, lounged into the store. With a quick, almost
+furtive eye the storekeeper glanced up to ascertain the identity of
+the newcomers. And, when he recognized them, such was the hold his
+alarm had upon him, that his first thought was as to their fitness to
+help in case of his own emergency. But his fleeting hope received a
+prompt negative. Sunny was useless, he decided. And Toby--well, Toby
+was so far an unknown quantity in all things except his power of
+spending on drink the money he had never earned.
+
+"Ain't out on your claim?" he greeted the remittance man casually.
+
+"Too blamed hot," Toby retorted, winking heavily.
+
+Then he mopped his face and ordered two whiskies.
+
+"That stuff won't cool you down any," observed Minky, passing behind
+his counter.
+
+"No," Toby admitted doubtfully. Then with a bright look of intelligence.
+"But it'll buck a feller so it don't seem so bad--the heat, I mean."
+His afterthought set Sunny grinning.
+
+Minky set out two glasses and passed the bottle. The men helped
+themselves, and with a simultaneous "How!" gulped their drinks down
+thirstily.
+
+Minky re-corked the bottle and wiped a few drops of water from the
+counter.
+
+"So Zip's around," he said, as the glasses were returned to the
+counter. And instantly Sunny's face became unusually serious.
+
+"Say," he cried, with a hard look in his good-natured eyes. "D'you
+ever feel real mad about things? So mad, I mean, you want to get right
+out an' hurt somebody or somethin'? So mad, folks is likely to git
+busy an' string you up with a rawhide? I'm sure mostly dead easy as a
+man, but I feel that away jest about now. I've sed to myself I'd do
+best settin' my head in your wash-trough. I've said it more'n oncet in
+the last half-hour. But I don't guess it's any sort o' use. So--so,
+I'll cut out the wash-trough."
+
+"You most generally do," said Toby pleasantly.
+
+"You ain't comic--'cep' when you're feedin'," retorted Sunny, nettled.
+Then he turned to Minky, just as the doorway of the store was darkened
+by the advent of Sandy Joyce. But he glanced back in the newcomer's
+direction and nodded. Then he went on immediately with his talk.
+
+"Say, have you seen him?" he demanded of anybody. "I'm talkin' o'
+Zip," he added, for Sandy's enlightenment. "He found James. Located
+his ranch, an'--an' nigh got hammered to death for his pains. Gee!"
+
+"We see him," said Minky, after an awed pause. "But he never said a
+word. He jest set Bill's mare back in the barn, an' bo't bacon, and
+hit off to hum."
+
+"I didn't see him," Sandy admitted. "How was he?"
+
+"Battered nigh to death, I said," cried Sunny, with startling
+violence. "His eyes are blackened, an' his pore mean face is cut
+about, an' bruised ter'ble. His clothes is torn nigh to rags, an'--"
+
+"Was it the James outfit did it?" inquired Minky incredulously.
+
+"They did that surely," cried Sunny vehemently. "You ain't seen Bill,
+have you? He's that mad you can't git a word out o' him. I tell you
+right here somethin's goin' to happen. Somethin's got to happen," he
+added, with a fresh burst of rage. "That gang needs cleanin' out. They
+need shootin' up like vermin, an'--"
+
+"You're goin' to do it?" inquired Sandy sarcastically.
+
+Sunny turned on him in a flash.
+
+"I'll take my share in it," he cried, "an' it'll need to be a big
+share to satisfy me," he added, with such evident sincerity and fiery
+determination that his companions stared at him in wonder.
+
+"Guess Sunny's had his rest broke," observed Toby, with a grin.
+
+"I have that sure. An'--an' it makes me mad to git busy," the loafer
+declared. "Have you seen that pore feller with his face all mussed?
+Gee! Say, Zip wouldn't hurt a louse; he's that gentle-natured I'd say
+if ther' was only a baulky mule between him an' starvation he'd hate
+to live. He ain't no more savvee than a fool cat motherin' a china
+dog, but he's got the grit o' ten men. He's hunted out James with no
+more thought than he'd use firin' a cracker on the 4th o' July. He
+goes after him to claim his right, as calm an' foolish as a sheep in a
+butcherin' yard. An' I'd say right here ther' ain't one of us in this
+store would have had the grit chasin' for his wife wher' Zip's bin
+chasin'--"
+
+"Not for a wife, sure," interjected Sandy.
+
+Toby smothered a laugh, but became serious under Sunny's contemptuous
+eye.
+
+"That's like you, Sandy," he cried. "It's sure like you. But I tell
+you Zip's a man, an' a great big man to the marrer of his small
+backbone. His luck's rotten. Rotten every ways. He's stuck on his
+wife, an' she's gone off with a tough like James. He works so he comes
+nigh shamin' even me, who hates work, on a claim that couldn't show
+the color o' gold on it, if ther' wa'an't nothin' to the earth but
+gold. He's jest got two notions in his silly head. It's his kids an'
+his wife. Mackinaw! It makes me sick. It does sure. Here's us fellers
+without a care to our souls, while that pore sucker's jest strugglin'
+an' strugglin' an' everythin's wrong with him--wrong as--oh, hell!"
+
+For once Sandy forgot his malicious jibe at the loafer's expense. And
+Toby, too, forgot his pleasantry. Sunny's outburst of feeling had
+struck home, and each man stood staring thoughtfully at the mental
+picture he had conjured for them. Each admitted to himself in his own
+way the pity the other's words had stirred, but none of them had
+anything to add at the moment.
+
+Sunny glanced from one to the other. His look was half questioning and
+wholly angry. He glanced across at the window and thrust his hands in
+his ragged trousers pockets.
+
+And presently as he began to tap the floor with his foot a fresh rush
+of fiery anger was mounting to his head. He opened his lips as though
+about to continue his tirade, but apparently changed his mind. And,
+instead, he drew a dollar bill from his pocket, and flung it on the
+counter.
+
+"Three more drinks," he demanded roughly.
+
+Minky in unfeigned surprise produced the glasses. Sandy leant over,
+and, with face thrust forward, inspected the bill. Toby contented
+himself with a low whistle of astonishment.
+
+Sunny glared at them contemptuously.
+
+"Yes," he said roughly, "I've earned it. I've worked for it, do you
+understand? Wild Bill set me to look after Zip's kids, an' he's paid
+me for it. But--but that money burns--burns like hell, an' I want to
+be quit of it. Oh, I ain't bug on no sort o' charity racket, I'm jest
+about as soft as my back teeth. But I'm mad--mad to git busy doin'
+anythin' so we ken git Zip level with that low-down skunk, James. An'
+if ther's fi' cents' worth o' grit in you, Mister Sandy Joyce, an' an
+atom o' savvee in your fool brain, Toby, you'll take a hand in the
+game."
+
+Minky looked on in silent approval. Anything directed against James
+was bound to meet with his approval just now. But Sandy cleared his
+throat, and lounged with his back against the counter.
+
+"An' wot, I'd ast, is goin' to hurt this tough?" he inquired, with a
+dash of his usual sarcasm.
+
+Sunny flew at his drink and gulped it down.
+
+"How do I know?" he cried scornfully.
+
+"Jest so."
+
+Toby grinned.
+
+"You're a bright one, Sunny. You're so bright, you dazzle my eyes," he
+cried.
+
+But Sunny was absorbed in a thought that was hazily hovering in the
+back of his brain, and let the insult pass.
+
+"How ken I tell jest wot we're goin' to do," he cried. "Wot we want to
+do is to kind o' help that pore crittur Zip out first. Ther' he is wi'
+two kids to see to, which is sure more than one man's work, an' at the
+same time he's got to dig up that mudbank claim of his. He don't see
+the thing's impossible, 'cos he's that big in mind he can't see small
+things like that. But I ain't big that aways, an' I ken see. If he
+goes on diggin' wot's his kids goin' to do, an' if he don't dig wot's
+they goin' to do anyways. We'll hev to form a committee--"
+
+"Sort o' trust," grinned Toby.
+
+But Sunny passed over his levity and seized upon his suggestion.
+
+"I 'lows your fool head's tho't somethin' wiser than it guessed," he
+said. "That's just wot we need. Ther' should be a trust to see after
+him. An' after it's got his kids fixed right--"
+
+Sunny broke off as the tall figure of Wild Bill threw its shadow
+across the window of the store. The next moment the man himself
+entered the room.
+
+He nodded silently, and was about to fling himself into one of the
+chairs, when Toby, in jocular anticipation, threw Sunny's proposition
+at him.
+
+"Say, Sunny's woke up an' bin thinkin'," he cried. "I allow his brain
+is shockin' wonderful. Guess he's got sick o' restin' an' reckons he
+got a notion for makin' a trust lay-out."
+
+"The Zip Trust," added Sandy, with a laugh, in which Toby joined
+heartily.
+
+"Yes. He guesses Zip needs lookin' after," declared the remittance man
+in the midst of his mirth, glancing round for appreciation of the
+joke.
+
+But the encouragement he received fell short of his expectations, and
+his laugh died out quite abruptly. There was no responsive smile on
+Minky's face. Sunny was glowering sulkily; while Bill's fierce brows
+were drawn together in an angry frown, and his gimlet eyes seemed to
+bore their way into the speaker's face.
+
+"Wal?" he demanded coldly.
+
+"Wal, I think he's--"
+
+But Bill cut him short in his coldest manner.
+
+"Do you?" he observed icily. "Wal, I'd say you best think ag'in. An'
+when you done thinkin' jest start right over ag'in. An' mebbe some day
+you'll get wise--if you don't get took meanwhiles."
+
+Bill flung himself into the chair and crossed his long legs.
+
+"Sunny's on the right lay," he went on. "Ther' ain't many men on
+Sufferin' Creek, but Zip's one of 'em. Say, Toby, would you ride out
+to James' outfit to call him all you think of the feller whose stole
+your wife?"
+
+"Not by a sight," replied Toby seriously.
+
+"Wal, Zip did. He's big," went on Bill in cold, harsh tones. Then he
+paused in thought. But he went on almost immediately. "We got to help
+him. I'm sure with Sunny." He turned on the loafer with a wintry
+smile. "You best organize right away, an'--count me in."
+
+Sunny's eyes glowed with triumph. He had feared the man's ridicule. He
+had expected to see his lean shoulders go up in silent contempt. And
+then, he knew, would have followed a storm of sarcasm and "jollying"
+from Sandy and the others. With quick wit he seized his opportunity,
+bent on using Bill's influence to its utmost. He turned on Minky with
+a well calculated abruptness.
+
+"You'll help this thing out--too?" he challenged him.
+
+And he got his answer on the instant--
+
+"I sure will--to any extent."
+
+Sandy and Toby looked at the storekeeper in some doubt. Bill was
+watching them with a curious intentness. And before Sunny could
+challenge the two scoffers, his harsh voice filled the room again.
+
+"I don't know we'll need any more," he said, abruptly turning his gaze
+upon the open window, "otherwise we'd likely hev ast you two fellers.
+Y'see, we'll need folks as ken do things--"
+
+"Wot sort o' things?" demanded Sandy, with a sudden interest.
+
+"Wal, that ain't easy to say right now, but--"
+
+"I ain't much seein' to kids," cried Sandy, "but I ken do most
+anythin' else."
+
+A flicker of a smile crept into Bill's averted eyes, while Sunny
+grinned broadly to see the way the man was now literally falling over
+himself to follow the leadership of Wild Bill.
+
+"Wal, it ain't no use in saying things yet, but if you're dead set on
+joining this Zip Trust, I guess you can. But get this, what you're
+called upon to do you'll need to do good an' hard, an'--without
+argument."
+
+Sandy nodded.
+
+"I'm in," he cried, as though a great privilege had been bestowed upon
+him.
+
+And at once Toby became anxious.
+
+"Guess you ain't no use for me, Bill?" he hazarded, almost diffidently.
+
+Bill turned his steely eyes on him in cold contemplation. Minky had
+joined in Sunny's grin at the other men's expense. Sandy, too, now
+that he was accepted as an active member of the trust, was indulging
+in a superior smile.
+
+"I don't allow I have," Bill said slowly. "Y'see, you ain't much else
+than a 'remittance' man, an' they ain't no sort o' trash anyway."
+
+"But," protested Toby, "I can't help it if my folks hand me money?"
+
+"Mebbe you can't." Bill was actually smiling. And this fact so far
+influenced the other members of the trust that an audible titter went
+round the room. Then the gambler suddenly sat forward, and the old
+fierce gleam shone once more in his cold eyes. "Say," he cried
+suddenly. "If a feller got the 'drop' on you with six bar'ls of a gun
+well-loaded, an'--guessed you'd best squeal, wot 'ud you do?"
+
+"Squeal," responded the puzzled Toby, with alacrity.
+
+"You ken join the Trust. You sure got more savvee than I tho't."
+
+Bill sat back grinning, while a roar of laughter concluded the
+founding of the Zip Trust.
+
+But like all ceremonials, the matter had to be prolonged and
+surrounded with the frills of officialdom. Sunny called it organization,
+and herein only copied people of greater degree and self-importance.
+He plunged into his task with whole-hearted enthusiasm, and, with
+every word he uttered, preened himself in the belief that he was
+rapidly ascending in the opinion of Wild Bill, the only man on
+Suffering Creek for whose opinion he cared a jot.
+
+He explained to his comrades, with all the vanity of a man whose
+inspiration has met with public approval, that in forming such a
+combine as theirs, it would be necessary to allot certain work, which
+he called "departments," to certain individuals. He assured his
+fellow-members that such was always done in "way-up concerns." It
+saved confusion, and ensured the work being adequately performed.
+
+"Sort o' like a noo elected gover'ment," suggested Sandy sapiently.
+
+"Wal, I won't say that," said Sunny. "Them fellers traipse around wi'
+portyfolios hangin' to 'em. I don't guess we need them things. It's
+too hot doin' stunts like that."
+
+"Portfolios?" questioned Toby artlessly. "Wot's them for?"
+
+"Oh, jest nuthin' o' consequence. Guess it's to make folks guess
+they're doin' a heap o' work. No, what we need is to set each man his
+work this aways. Now Bill here needs to be president sure. Y'see, we
+must hev a 'pres.' Most everything needs a 'pres.' He's got to sit on
+top, so if any one o' the members gits gay he ken hand 'em a daisy
+wot'll send 'em squealin' an' huntin' their holes like gophers. Wal,
+Bill needs to be our 'pres.' Then there's the 'general manager.' He's
+the feller wot sets around an' blames most everybody fer everything
+anyway, an' writes to the noospapers. He's got to have savvee, an' an
+elegant way o' shiftin' the responsibility o' things on them as can't
+git back at him. He's got to be a bright lad--"
+
+"That's Sunny, sure," exclaimed Toby. "He's a dandy at gettin' out o'
+things an' leaving others in. Say--"
+
+"Here, half-a-tick," cried Joyce, with sudden inspiration. "Who's
+goin' to be 'fightin' editor'?"
+
+"Gee, what a brain!" cried Sunny derisively. "Say, we ain't runnin' a
+mornin' noos sheet. This is a trust. Sandy, my boy, you need
+educatin'. A trust's a corporation of folks wot is so crooked, they
+got to git together, an' pool their cash, so's to git enough dollars
+to kep 'em out o' penitentiary. That's how they start. Later on, if
+they kep clear o' the penitentiary, they start in to fake the market
+till the Gover'ment butts in. Then they git gay, buy up a vote in
+Congress, an' fake the laws so they're fixed right fer themselves.
+After that some of them git religion, some of 'em give trick feeds to
+their friends, some of 'em start in to hang jewels on stage females.
+Some of 'em have been known to shoot theirselves or git divorced. It
+ain't no sort o' matter wot they do, pervided they're civil to the
+noospaper folk. That's a trust, Sandy, an' I don't say but what the
+feller as tho't o' that name must o' bin a tarnation amusin' feller."
+
+"Say, you orter bin in a cirkis," sneered Sandy, as the loafer
+finished his disquisition.
+
+"Wal, I'd say that's better'n a museum," retorted Sunny.
+
+But Toby was impatient to hear how Sunny intended to dispose of him.
+
+"Wher' do I figger in this lay-out?" he demanded.
+
+"You?" Sunny's eyes twinkled. "Don't guess we'll need to give you hard
+work. You best be boss o' the workin' staff."
+
+"But ther' ain't no workin' staff," protested Toby.
+
+"Jest so. That's why you'll be boss of it." Then Sunny turned to
+Sandy.
+
+"We'll need your experience as a married man, tho'," he said slyly.
+"So you best be head o' the advisory board. You'll need to kep us wise
+to the general principles of vittlin' a family of three, when the
+woman's missin'. Then we'll need a treasurer." Sunny turned to Minky,
+and his twinkling eyes asked the question.
+
+"Sure," said Minky promptly, "I'll be treasurer. Seems to me I'll be
+safer that ways."
+
+"Good," cried Sunny, "that's all fixed." He turned to Bill. "Say,
+pres," he went on, "I'd like to pass a vote o' thanks fer the way you
+conducted this yer meetin', an' put it to the vote, that we accept the
+treasurer's invitation to take wine. All in favor will--"
+
+"Mine's rye," cried Sandy promptly.
+
+"An' mine," added Toby.
+
+"Rye for me," nodded Sunny at Minky's grinning face. "Bill--?"
+
+But Bill shook his head.
+
+"Too early for me," he said, "you fellers can git all you need into
+you though. But see here, folks," he went on, with a quietness of
+purpose that promptly reduced every eye to seriousness. "This ain't no
+play game as Sunny may ha' made you think. It's a proposition that
+needs to go thro', an'--I'm goin' to see it thro'. Zip's kids is our
+first trouble. They ain't easy handlin'. They got to be bro't up
+reg'lar, an' their stummicks ain't to be pizened with no wrong sort o'
+vittles. Ther's such a heap o' things to kids o' that age it makes me
+nigh sweat at the tho't. Howsum, Zip's down an' out, an' we got to see
+him right someways. As 'pres' of this lay-out, I tell you right here,
+every mother's son of us had best git out an' learn all we ken about
+fixin' kids right. How to feed 'em, how to set their pretties on
+right, how to clean 'em, how to--well, jest how to raise 'em. If any
+o' you got leddy friends I'd say git busy askin' 'em. So--"
+
+At that moment the sound of footsteps on the veranda came in through
+the window, and Bill looked round. The next instant he spoke more
+rapidly, and with greater authority.
+
+"Git goin'," he cried, "an' we'll meet after supper."
+
+There was no doubt of this man's rule. Without a word the men
+filed out of the store, each one with his thoughts bent upon the
+possibilities of acquiring the knowledge necessary.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+STRANGERS IN SUFFERING CREEK
+
+
+Bill watched the men depart. The stolid Minky, too, followed them with
+his eyes. But as they disappeared through the doorway he turned to the
+gambler, and, in surprise, discovered that he was reclining in a
+chair, stretched out in an attitude of repose, with his shrewd eyes
+tightly closed. He was about to speak when the swing-doors opened, and
+two strangers strolled in.
+
+Minky greeted them, "Howdy?" and received an amiable response. The
+newcomers were ordinary enough to satisfy even the suspicious
+storekeeper. In fact, they looked like men from some city, who had
+possibly come to Suffering Creek with the purpose of ascertaining the
+possibilities of the camp as a place in which to try their fortunes.
+Both were clad in store clothes of fair quality, wearing hats of the
+black prairie type, and only the extreme tanning of their somewhat
+genial faces belied the city theory.
+
+Minky noted all these things while he served them the drinks they
+called for, and, in the most approvedly casual manner, put the usual
+question to them.
+
+"Wher' you from?" he inquired, as though the matter were not of the
+least consequence.
+
+He was told Spawn City without hesitation, and in response to his
+remark that they had "come quite a piece," they equally amiably
+assured him that they had.
+
+Then one of the men addressed his companion.
+
+"Say, Joe," he said, "mebbe this guy ken put us wise to things."
+
+And Joe nodded and turned to the storekeeper.
+
+"Say, boss," he began, "we've heerd tell this lay-out is a dead gut
+bonanza. There's folks in Spawn City says ther's gold enough here to
+drown the United States Treasury department. Guess we come along to
+gather some." He grinned in an ingratiating manner.
+
+Minky thought before answering.
+
+"Ther' sure is a heap o' gold around. But it ain't easy. I don't guess
+you'd gather much in a shovel. You'll get pay dirt that aways, but--"
+
+"Ah! Needs cap'tal," suggested Joe.
+
+"That's jest how we figgered," put in the other quietly.
+
+Minky nodded. Many things were traveling swiftly through his mind.
+
+"Drove in?" he inquired.
+
+"Sure," replied Joe. "Unhooked down the trail a piece."
+
+Bill's eyes opened and closed again. Then he shifted noisily in his
+chair. The men turned round and eyed him with interest. Then the man
+called Joe called back to the storekeeper.
+
+"My name's Joe Manton," he said, by way of introduction. "An' my
+friend's called Sim Longley. Say," he went on, with a backward jerk of
+the head, "mebbe your friend'll take something?"
+
+Minky glanced over at Wild Bill. The gambler drowsily opened his eyes
+and bestirred himself.
+
+"I sure will," he said, rearing his great length up, and moving across
+to the counter. "I'll take Rye, mister, an' thank you. This is Mr.
+Minky, gents. My name's Bill."
+
+The introduction acknowledged, talk flowed freely. Wild Bill, in
+carefully toned down manner, engaged the strangers in polite talk,
+answering their questions about the gold prospects of the place, which
+were often pointed, in the most genial and even loquacious manner. He
+told them a great deal of the history of the place, warned them that
+Suffering Creek was not the sinecure the outside world had been told,
+endorsed Minky's story that what Suffering Creek really needed was
+capital to reach the true wealth of the place. And, in the course of
+the talk, drink flowed freely.
+
+Bill was always supplied with his drink from a different bottle to
+that out of which the strangers were served. As a matter of fact, he
+was probably the most temperate man on Suffering Creek, and, by an
+arrangement with Minky, so as not to spoil trade, drank from a bottle
+of colored water when the necessity for refreshment arose. But just
+now his manner suggested that he had drunk quite as much whisky as the
+strangers. His spirits rose with theirs, and his jocularity and levity
+matched theirs, step by step, as they went on talking.
+
+The man Longley had spoken of the settlement as being "one-horsed,"
+and Billy promptly agreed.
+
+"It sure is," he cried. "We ain't got nothing but this yer canteen,
+with ol' Minky doin' his best to pizen us. Still, we get along in a
+ways. Mebbe we could do wi' a dancin'-hall--if we had females around.
+Then I'd say a bank would be an elegant addition to things. Y'see, we
+hev to ship our gold outside. Leastways, that's wot we used to do,
+I've heard. Y'see, I ain't in the minin' business," he added, by way
+of accounting for his lack of personal knowledge.
+
+"Ah!" said Joe. "Maybe you're 'commercial'?"
+
+Bill laughed so genially that the others joined in it.
+
+"In a ways, mebbe I am. You see, I mostly sit around, an' when
+anything promisin' comes along, why, I ain't above plankin' a few
+dollars by way of--speculation."
+
+Joe grinned broadly.
+
+"A few shares in a poker hand, eh?" he suggested shrewdly.
+
+"You're kind o' quick, mister," Bill laughed. "I'm stuck on 'draw'
+some."
+
+Then the talk drifted suddenly. It was Longley who presently harked
+back to the commercial side of Suffering Creek.
+
+"You was sayin' ther' wasn't no bank on Suffering Creek," he said
+interestedly. "What do folks do with their dust now, then?"
+
+A quick but almost imperceptible glance passed between Bill and the
+storekeeper. And Bill's answer came at once.
+
+"Wal, as I sed, we used to pass it out by stage. But--"
+
+Longley caught him up just a shade too quickly.
+
+"Yes--but?"
+
+"Wal," drawled Bill thoughtfully, "y'see, we ain't shipped dust out
+for some time on account of a gang that's settin' around waitin'. You
+comin' from Spawn City'll likely have heard of this feller James an'
+his gang. A most ter'ble tough is James. I'll allow he's got us mighty
+nigh wher' he wants us--scairt to death. No, we ain't sent out no gold
+stage lately, but we're goin' to right soon. We'll hev to. We've ast
+for an escort o' Gover'ment troops, but I guess Sufferin' Creek ain't
+on the map. The Gover'ment don't guess they've any call to worry."
+
+"Then what you goin' to do?" inquired Longley, profoundly interested.
+
+"Can't say. The stage'll hev to take its chances."
+
+"An' when--" began Longley. But his comrade cut him short.
+
+"Say, I'll allow the gold racket's mighty int'restin', but it makes me
+tired this weather. You was speakin' 'draw'--"
+
+"Sure," responded Bill amiably. "We're four here, if you fancy a hand.
+Minky?"
+
+The storekeeper nodded, and promptly produced cards and 'chips.' And
+in five minutes the game was in progress. Used as he was to the
+vagaries of his gambling friend, Minky was puzzled at the way he was
+discussing Suffering Creek with these strangers. His talk about James
+and the gold-stage was too rankly absurd for anything, and yet he knew
+that some subtle purpose must be underlying his talk. However, it was
+no time to question or contradict now, so he accepted the situation
+and his share in the game.
+
+And here again astonishment awaited him. Bill lost steadily, if not
+heavily. He watched the men closely, but could discover none of the
+known tricks common to the game when sharps are at work. They not only
+seemed to be playing straight, but badly. They were not good poker
+players. Yet they got the hands and won. For himself, he kept fairly
+level. It was only Bill who lost.
+
+And all through the game the gambler allowed himself to be drawn into
+talking of Suffering Creek by the interested Longley, until it would
+have been obvious to the veriest greenhorn that the stranger was
+pumping him.
+
+The newcomers seemed to be enjoying themselves enormously, and the
+greatest good-will prevailed. Nor was it until nearly supper-time that
+Bill suddenly stood up and declared he had had enough. He was a loser
+to the extent of nearly a hundred dollars.
+
+So the party broke up. And at Minky's suggestion the men departed to
+put their horses in the barn, while they partook of supper under his
+roof. It was the moment they had gone that the storekeeper turned on
+his friend.
+
+"Say, I ain't got you, Bill. Wot's your game?" he demanded, with some
+asperity.
+
+But the gambler was quite undisturbed by his annoyance. He only
+chuckled.
+
+"Say," he countered, "ever heerd tell of Swanny Long, the biggest
+tough in Idaho?"
+
+"Sure. But--"
+
+"That's him--that feller Sim Longley."
+
+The storekeeper stared.
+
+"You sure?"
+
+"Sure? Gee! I was after him fer nigh three--Say," he broke off--it was
+not his way to indulge in reminiscence--"I guess he's workin' with
+James." Then he laughed. "Gee! I allow he was rigged elegant--most
+like some Bible-smashin' sky-pilot."
+
+Minky was still laboring hard to understand.
+
+"But all that yarn of the gold-stage?" he said sharply.
+
+"That?" Bill at once became serious. "Wal, that's pretty near right.
+You ain't yearnin' fer that gang to come snoopin' around Suffering
+Creek. So I'm guessin' we'll hev to pass a gold-stage out o' her some
+time."
+
+"You're mad," cried Minky in consternation.
+
+"That's as may be," retorted Bill, quite unruffled. "Anyways, I guess
+I spent a hundred dollars in a mighty good deal this day--if it was
+rotten bad poker."
+
+And he turned away to talk to Slade of Kentucky, who entered the store
+at that moment with his friend O'Brien.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+THE WOMAN
+
+
+The woman turned from the window at the sound of footsteps somewhere
+behind her. That was her way now. She started at each fresh sound that
+suggested anyone approaching. Her nerves were on edge for some reason
+she could never have put into words. She did not fear, yet a curious
+nervousness was hers which made her listen acutely at every footstep,
+and breathe her relief if the sound died away without further
+intrusion upon her privacy.
+
+Presently she turned back to the window with just such relief. The
+footstep had passed. She drew her feet up into the ample seat of the
+rocking-chair, and, with her elbow resting upon its arm, heavily
+pressed her chin into the palm of her hand, and again stared at the
+rampart of mountains beyond.
+
+Nor had all the beauties spread out before her yearning gaze the least
+appeal for her. How should they? Her thoughts were roaming in a world
+of her own, and her eyes were occupied in gazing upon her woman's
+pictures as she saw them in her mind. The wonders of that scene of
+natural splendor laid out before her had no power to penetrate the
+armor of her preoccupation. All her mind and heart were stirred and
+torn by emotions such as only a woman can understand, only a woman can
+feel. The ancient battle of titanic forces, which had brought into
+existence that world of stupendous might upon which her unseeing eyes
+gazed, was as nothing, it seemed, to the passionate struggle going on
+in her torn heart. To her there was nothing beyond her own regretful
+misery, her own dread of the future, her passionate revulsion at
+thoughts of the past.
+
+The truth was, she had not yet found the happiness she had promised
+herself, that had been promised to her. She had left behind her all
+that life which, when it had been hers, she had hated. Her passionate
+nature had drawn her whither its stormy waves listed. And now that the
+tempest was passed, and the driving forces had ceased to urge, leaving
+her in a rock-bound pool of reflection, she saw the enormity of the
+step she had taken, she realized the strength of Nature's tendrils
+which still bound her no less surely.
+
+The mild face of Scipio haunted her. She saw in her remorseful fancy
+his wondering blue eyes filled with the stricken look of a man
+powerless to resent, powerless to resist. She read into her thought
+the feelings of his simple heart which she had so wantonly crushed.
+For she knew his love as only a woman can. She had probed its depth
+and found it fathomless--fathomless in its devotion to herself. And
+now she had thrown him and his love, the great legitimate love of the
+father of her children, headlong out of her life.
+
+A dozen times she bolstered her actions with the assurance that she
+did not want his love, that he was not the man she had ever cared
+for seriously, could ever care for. She told herself that the
+insignificance of his character, his personality, were beneath
+contempt. She desired a man of strength for her partner, a man who
+could make himself of some account in the world which was theirs.
+
+No, she did not want Scipio. He was useless in the scheme of life, and
+she did not wish to have to "mother" her husband. Far rather would she
+be the slave of a man whose ruthless domination extended even to
+herself. And yet Scipio's mild eyes haunted her, and stirred something
+in her heart that maddened her, and robbed her of all satisfaction in
+the step she had taken.
+
+But this was only a small part of the cause of her present mood. She
+had not at first had the vaguest understanding of the bonds which
+really fettered her, holding her fast to the life that had been hers
+for so long. Now she knew. And the knowledge brought with it its
+bitter cost. Some forewarning had been hers when she appealed to her
+lover for the possession of her children. But although her mother's
+instinct had been stirred to alarm at parting, she had not, at that
+time, experienced the real horror of what she was doing in abandoning
+her children.
+
+She was inconsolable now. With all her mind and heart she was crying
+out for the warm, moist pressure of infant lips. Her whole body
+yearned for those who were flesh of her flesh, for the gentle beating
+hearts to which her body had given life. They were hers--hers, and of
+her own action she had put them out of her life. They were hers, and
+she was maddened at the thought that she had left them to another.
+They were hers, and--yes, she must have them. Whatever happened, they
+must be restored to her. Life would be intolerable without them.
+
+She was in a wholly unreasoning state of mind. All the mother in her
+was uppermost, craving, yearning, panting for her own. For the time,
+at least, all else was lost in an overwhelming regret, and such a
+power of love for her offspring, that she had no room for the man who
+had brought about the separation.
+
+She was a selfish woman, and had always craved for the best that life
+could give her, but now that her mother-love was truly roused her
+selfishness knew no bounds. She had no thought for anybody, no
+consideration. She could have none until her desire was satisfied.
+
+Her tortured heart grew angry against Scipio. She was driven to fury
+against James. What mattered it that her lover had so far fulfilled
+all his other promises to her, if he did not procure the children and
+return them to her arms? What mattered it that she was surrounded
+with luxury uncommon on the prairie, a luxury she had not known for so
+many years?
+
+She had her own rooms, where no one intruded without her consent. The
+spacious house had been ransacked to make them all that she could
+desire. All the outlaw's associates were herded into the background,
+lest their presence should offend her. Even James himself had
+refrained from forcing his attentions upon her, lest, in the first
+rush of feeling at her breaking with the old life, they should be
+unwelcome. His patience and restraint were wonderful in a man of his
+peculiar savagery. And surely it pointed his love for her. Had it been
+simply the momentary passion of an untamed nature, he would have
+waited for nothing, when once she had become his possession.
+
+It was a curious anachronism that she should be the mistress of the
+situation with such a man as James. Yet so far she was mistress of the
+situation. The question was, how long would she remain so? It is
+possible that she had no understanding of this at first. It is
+possible that she would have resented such a question, had it occurred
+to her when she first consented to break away from her old life.
+
+But now it was different. Now that she began to understand all she had
+flung away for this man, when the mother in her was at last fully
+aroused, and all her wits were driven headlong to discover a way by
+which to satisfy her all-consuming desire for her children, now the
+native cunning of the woman asserted itself. She saw in one revealing
+flash her position, she saw where lay her power at the moment, and she
+clung to it desperately, determined to play the man while she could to
+gain her ends.
+
+Thus it was she was nervous, apprehensive, every time she thought it
+likely that her lover was about to visit her. She dreaded what might
+transpire. She dreaded lest her power should be weakened before she
+had accomplished her end. It was difficult; it was nerve-racking. She
+must keep his love at fever-heat. It was her one chance.
+
+Again she started. It was the sound of a fresh footstep beyond the
+door. She glanced at the door with half-startled eyes and sat
+listening. Then her lips closed decidedly and a look of purpose crept
+into her eyes. A moment later she stood up. She was pale, but full of
+purpose.
+
+"Is that you, Jim?" she called.
+
+"Sure," came the ready response.
+
+The next instant the door was flung open and the man came in.
+
+His bronzed face was smiling, and the savage in him was hidden deep
+down out of sight. His handsome face was good to look upon, and as the
+woman's eyes surveyed his carefully clad slim figure she felt a thrill
+of triumph at the thought that he was hers at the raising of her
+finger.
+
+But she faced him without any responsive smile. She had summoned him
+with a very definite purpose in her mind, and no display of anything
+that could be interpreted into weakness must be made.
+
+"I want to talk to you," she said, pointing at the rocking-chair she
+had just vacated.
+
+James glanced at the chair. Then his eyes turned back to her with a
+question in them. Finally he shrugged his shoulders and flung himself
+into the seat, and stretched out his long legs luxuriously.
+
+Apparently Jessie had not noticed the shrug. It would have been better
+had she done so. She might then have understood more fully the man she
+was dealing with. However, she turned to the window and spoke with her
+back to him.
+
+"It's about--things," she said a little lamely.
+
+The man's smile was something ironical, as his eyes greedily devoured
+the beauty of her figure.
+
+"I'm glad," he said in a non-committing way. Then, as no reply was
+immediately forthcoming, he added, "Get going."
+
+But Jessie made no answer. She was thinking hard, and somehow her
+thoughts had an uneasy confusion in them. She was trying hard to find
+the best way to begin that which she had to say, but every opening
+seemed inadequate. She must not appeal, she must not dictate. She must
+adopt some middle course. These things she felt instinctively.
+
+The man shifted his position and glanced round the room.
+
+"Kind of snug here," he said pleasantly, running his eyes appreciatively
+over the simple decorations, the cheap bric-a-brac which lined the
+walls and, in a world where all decoration was chiefly conspicuous
+by its absence, gave to the place a suggestion of richness. The red
+pine walls looked warm, and the carpeted floor was so unusual as to
+give one a feeling of extraordinary refinement. Then, too, the chairs,
+scattered about, spoke of a strain after civilized luxury. The whole
+ranch-house had been turned inside out to make Jessie's quarters all
+she could desire them.
+
+"Yes," he muttered, "it's sure snug." Then his eyes came back to the
+woman. "Maybe there's something I've forgotten. Guess you've just got
+to fix a name to it."
+
+Jessie turned instantly. Her beautiful eyes were shining with a sudden
+hope, but her face was pale with a hardly controlled emotion.
+
+"That's easy," she said. "I want my children. I want little Vada. I--I
+must have her. You promised I should. If you hadn't, I should never
+have left. I must have her." She spoke breathlessly, and broke off
+with a sort of nervous jolt.
+
+In the pause that followed James' expression underwent a subtle
+change. It was not that there was any definite movement of a single
+muscle. His smile remained, but, somehow, through it peeped a hard
+look which had not been there before.
+
+"So you want--the kids," he said at last, and a curious metallic
+quality was in his voice. "Say," he added thoughtfully, "you women are
+queer ones."
+
+"Maybe we are," retorted Jessie. She tried to laugh as she spoke, but
+it was a dismal failure. Then she hurried on. "Yes," she cried a
+little shrilly, "it was part of our bargain, and--so far you have not
+carried it out."
+
+"Bargain?" The man's brows went up.
+
+"Yes, bargain."
+
+"I don't remember a--bargain." James' eyes had in them an ominous
+glitter.
+
+"Then you've got a bad memory."
+
+"I sure haven't, Jess. I sure haven't that. I generally remember good.
+And what I remember now is that I promised you those kids if you
+needed them. I swore that you should have 'em. But I made no bargain.
+Guess women don't see things dead right. This is the first time you've
+spoken to me of this, and you say I haven't fulfilled my bargain. When
+I refuse to give you them kiddies, it's time to take that tone. You
+want them kids. Well--go on."
+
+The change in her lover's manner warned Jessie that danger lay ahead.
+In the brief time she had spent under his roof she had already learned
+that, as yet, she had only seen the gentlest side of the man, and that
+the other side was always perilously near the surface.
+
+In the beginning this had been rather a delight to her to think that
+she, of all people, was privileged to bask in the sunny side of a man
+who habitually displayed the storm clouds of his fiercer side to the
+world in general. But since that time a change, which she neither knew
+nor understood, had come over her, and, instead of rejoicing that he
+possessed that harsher nature, she rather feared it, feared that it
+might be turned upon her.
+
+It was this change that had helped to bring her woman's cunning into
+play. It was this change which had brought her her haunting visions of
+the old life. It was this change which had prompted her that she must
+keep her lover at arm's length--as yet. It was this change, had she
+paused to analyze it, which might have told her of the hideous mistake
+she had made. That the passion which she had believed to be an
+absorbing love for the man was merely a passion, a base human passion,
+inspired in a weak, discontented woman. But as yet she understood
+nothing of this. The glamour of the man's personality still had power
+to sway her, and she acknowledged it in her next words.
+
+"Don't be angry, Jim dear," she said, with a smile of seductive
+sweetness which had immediate effect upon the man. "You don't
+understand us women. We're sure unreasonable where our love is
+concerned."
+
+Then a flush spread itself slowly over her handsome face, and passion
+lit her eyes.
+
+"But I must have my children," she broke out suddenly. "One of them,
+anyhow--little Vada. You--you can't understand all it means to be away
+from them. They are mine. They are part of me. I--I feel I could kill
+anyone who keeps them from me. You promised, Jim, you sure did. Get
+her for me. My little girl--my little Vada."
+
+The man had risen from his chair and moved to the window. He sat on
+the rough sill facing her. His eyes were hot with passion, too, but it
+was passion of a very different sort.
+
+"And if I do?" he questioned subtly.
+
+"If you do?" Jessie's eyes widened with a world of cunning simplicity.
+
+"Yes, if I do?" The man's face was nearer.
+
+"You'll have fulfilled your promise."
+
+Jessie had turned again to the window, and her eyes were cold.
+
+The man's brows drew together sharply, and his dark eyes watched the
+perfect outline of her oval cheek. Then he drew a sharp breath, and
+biting words leapt to his lips. But he held them back with a sudden
+grip that was perilously near breaking. Jessie's power was still
+enormous with him. But this very power was maddening to a man of his
+nature, and the two must not come into too frequent conflict.
+
+He suddenly laughed, and the woman turned in alarm at the note that
+sounded in it.
+
+"Yes," he said tensely. "I'll fulfill my promise. It'll amuse me,
+sure, getting back at that Sufferin' Creek lay-out. I owe them
+something for keepin' back the gold-stages. You shall have Vada,
+sure."
+
+He broke off for an instant and drew nearer. He leant forward, and
+one arm reached out to encircle her waist. But with an almost
+imperceptible movement the woman stood beyond his reach.
+
+"And--and after?" he questioned, his arm still outstretched to embrace
+her.
+
+The woman made no answer.
+
+"And after?"
+
+There was a hot glow in his tone. He waited. Then he went on.
+
+"Then I'll have done everything," he said--"all that a man can do to
+make you happy. I'll have fulfilled all my promises. I'll--And you?"
+he went on, coming close up to her.
+
+This time she did not repulse him. Instinct told her that she must
+not. Before all things she wanted Vada. So his arms closed about her,
+and a shower of hot, passionate kisses fell upon her face, her hair,
+her lips.
+
+At last she pushed him gently away. For the moment all the old passion
+had been stirred, but now, as she released herself, an odd shiver
+passed through her body, and a great relief came to her as she stood
+out of his reach. It was the first real, definite feeling of
+repulsion she had had, and as she realized it a sudden fear gripped
+her heart, and she longed to rush from his presence. But, even so, she
+did not fully understand the change that was taking place in her. Her
+predominating thought was for the possession of little Vada, and she
+urged him with all the intensity of her longing.
+
+"You'll get her for me?" she cried, with an excitement that
+transfigured her. "You will. Oh, Jim, I can never thank you
+sufficiently. You are good to me. And when will you get her--now? Oh,
+Jim, don't wait. You must do it now. I want her so badly. I wonder how
+you'll do it. Will you take her? Or will you ask Zip for her? I--I
+believe he would give her up. He's such a queer fellow. I believe he'd
+do anything I asked him. I sure do. How are you going to get her?"
+
+The man was watching her with all the fire of his love in his eyes. It
+was a greedy, devouring gaze of which Jessie must have been aware had
+she only been thinking less of her child. Nor did he answer at once.
+Then slowly the passionate light died out of his eyes, and they became
+thoughtful.
+
+"Tell me," the woman urged him.
+
+Suddenly he looked into her face with a cruel grin.
+
+"Sit down, Jess," he said sharply, "and write a letter to Zip asking
+him, in your best lingo, to let you have your kid. An' when you done
+that I'll see he gets it, an'--I'll see you get the kid. But make the
+letter good an' hot. Pile up the agony biz. I'll fix the rest."
+
+For a moment the woman looked into his face, now lit with such a cruel
+grin. Something in her heart gave her pause. Somehow she felt that
+what she was called upon to do was intended to hurt Zip in some subtle
+way, and the thought was not pleasant. She didn't want to hurt Zip.
+She tried in those few seconds to probe this man's purpose. But her
+mind was not equal to the task. Surely a letter appealing to Zip
+could not really hurt him. And she wanted little Vada so much. It was
+this last thought that decided her. No, nothing should stand in her
+way. She steeled her heart against her better feelings, but with some
+misgivings, and sat down to write.
+
+James watched her. She procured paper and pen, and he watched her
+bending over the table. No detail of her face and figure escaped his
+greedy eyes. She was very beautiful, so beautiful to him that he
+stirred restlessly, chafing irritably under the restraint he was
+putting upon himself. Again and again he asked himself why he was fool
+enough to do as he was doing. She was his. There was no one to stop
+him, no one but--her.
+
+Ah! There was the trouble. Such was the man's temper that nothing
+could satisfy him that gave him no difficulty of attaining. His was
+the appetite of an epicure in all things. Everything in its way must
+be of the best, and to be of the best to him it must be the most
+difficult of achievement.
+
+He waited with what patience he could until the letter was written.
+Then he watched Jessie seal and address it. Then she rose and stood
+staring down at the cruel missive. She knew it was cruel now, for,
+trading on the knowledge of the man who was to receive it, she had
+appealed through the channel of her woman's weakness to all that great
+spirit which she knew to abide in her little husband's heart.
+
+James understood something of what was passing in her mind. And it
+pleased him to think of what he had forced her to do--pleased him as
+cruelty ever pleases the truly vicious.
+
+At last she held the missive out to him.
+
+"There it is," she said. And as his hand closed upon it her own was
+drawn sharply away, as though to avoid contact with his.
+
+"Good," he said, with a peculiar grin.
+
+For a moment the silence remained unbroken. Then the woman raised
+appealing eyes to his face.
+
+"You won't hurt Zip?" she said in a voice that would surely have
+heartened the object of her solicitude had he heard it.
+
+The man shook his head. His jaws were set, and his smile was
+unpleasing.
+
+"Guess any hurtin' Zip gets'll be done by you."
+
+"Ah, no, no!"
+
+The woman reached out wildly for the letter, but James had passed
+swiftly out of the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+BIRDIE AND THE BOYS
+
+
+The derelicts of a mining camp must ever be interesting to the student
+of human nature, so wide is the field for study. But it were better to
+be a student, simply, when probing amongst the refuse heaps of life's
+debris. A sentimentalist, a man of heart, would quickly have it broken
+with the pity of it all. A city's tragedies often require search to
+reveal them, but upon the frontier tragedy stalks unsepulchered in the
+background of nearly every life, ready to leap out in all its naked
+horror and settle itself leech-like upon the sympathetic heart,
+stifling it with the burden of its misery.
+
+No, it is not good to delve into the dark pages of such folks' lives
+too closely, unless armored with impenetrable callousness. But one
+cannot help wondering whence all those living tragedies come. Look at
+the men. For the most part strong, able creatures, apparently capable
+of fighting the lusty battle of life with undiminished ardor. Look at
+the women. They are for the most part thinking women, healthy,
+capable. And yet--well, nine-tenths of them are not so cut off from
+their home cities, their friends and relatives, without some more than
+ordinary reason.
+
+It is a sad sight to see the women plunged headlong into the fight for
+existence in such places, to witness the cruel iron thrust upon them
+its searing brand, to watch all the natural softness of their sex
+harden to the necessary degree for a successful issue to the battle,
+to witness their frequent unsexing and ultimate degradation. Such
+results are common enough when a woman enters the lists. It is so
+often a mere question of time. And when the end is achieved, how
+awful, how revolting, but how natural.
+
+How Birdie Mason came to find herself the one woman on Suffering
+Creek--leaving out the later advent of Scipio's wife--it is not for us
+to ask. Whatever her little tragedy it is hers alone, and does not
+concern us. All that we need think of is her future, and the pity that
+so well-favored a woman has not found her lot cast in places where her
+womanhood has its best chances. However, she is there, living the life
+of all such hired "helps," drudging from morning till night in one
+long round of sordid labor, in an atmosphere stinking with the fetid
+breath of debased humanity.
+
+But as yet the life has made no inroads upon her moral health. Her
+sunny good nature sets her singing over the most grinding labors. Her
+smiling face, and ready tongue, give her an air of happiness and joy
+of life which seems well-nigh invincible. And her popularity contrives
+her many thrilling moments and advantages which she is too much a
+woman and a child to deny herself.
+
+Her day's work ends with the after supper "wash up," a dreary routine
+which might well crush the most ardent spirit. Yet she bends over her
+tubs full of crockery dreaming her sunny dreams, building her little
+castles to the clink of enameled tin cups, weaving her romances to the
+clatter of cutlery, smiling upon the mentally conjured faces of her
+boys amidst the steaming odors of greasy, lukewarm water. The one blot
+upon her existence is perhaps the Chinese cook, with whom she has
+perforce to associate. She dislikes him for no other reason than that
+he is a "yaller-faced doper that ought to been set to herd with a
+menagerie of measly skunks." But even this annoyance cannot seriously
+damp her buoyancy, and, with wonderful feminine philosophy, she puts
+him out of her mind as a "no account feller, anyway."
+
+She was putting the finishing touches to the long dining-table, making
+it ready for the next day's breakfast. It was not an elaborate
+preparation. She "dumped" a box of knives and forks at each end of it,
+and then proceeded to chase any odd bits of debris from the last meal
+on to the floor with a duster. Then, with a hand-broom and pan, she
+took these up and with them any other rubbish that might be lying
+about. Finally, she set jugs of drinking water at intervals down the
+center of the table, and her work was done.
+
+She looked about her, patting her fair hair with that eminently
+feminine touch which is to be seen in every woman from the millionaire's
+wife down to the poorest emigrant. Then, with less delicacy, she
+lifted her apron and wiped the moisture from her round young face.
+
+"Guess that's 'most everything," she murmured, her eyes brightening at
+the contemplation of her completed task. "I'll just cut out them--"
+
+She went to a cupboard and drew out a parcel of white lawn and paper
+patterns, which she carefully spread out on the table. And, in a few
+moments, she was bending absorbedly over the stuff, lost in the
+intricacies of hewing out an embryonic garment for her personal
+adornment.
+
+It was at this task that Toby Jenks found her. He was worried to death
+at the thought that, as a member of the newly formed Zip Trust, it was
+his duty to gather information concerning the management of children.
+However, in the midst of his trouble he hit on the brilliant idea of
+consulting the only woman of his acquaintance.
+
+Toby wanted to do something startling in the interests of the Trust.
+He felt that his membership had been conferred in a rather grudging
+spirit. And, to his mildly resentful way of thinking, it seemed it
+would be a good thing if he could surprise his friends with the
+excellence of his services in the general interests of the concern.
+
+Birdie heard the door open, and raised a pair of startled eyes at the
+intruder. It was not that such visits were out of order, or even
+uncommon, but they generally occurred after pre-arrangement, which
+gave her the opportunity of "fixing herself right."
+
+With a wild grab she scrambled her material, and the pattern, so that
+its identification would be quite impossible to male eyes, and hugged
+it in her arms. Turning swiftly she thrust it into the cupboard, and
+slammed the door. But she had no resentment at the interruption. Toby
+was quite a new visitor, and, well--the more the merrier.
+
+She turned to him all smiles, and Toby returned her welcome something
+sheepishly. He cut a quaint figure with his broad, ungainly shoulders
+supporting his rather pumpkin face. Then his arms were a little too
+long and terminated in two "leg-of-mutton" hands.
+
+"Evenin', Birdie," he said bashfully. "Guess you were sewin'?"
+
+"Guess again," cried the girl readily, her eyes dancing at the
+contemplation of a few moments' badinage with a new candidate for her
+favors.
+
+"Well, you wa'an't playin' the pianner."
+
+But Birdie was quite equal to the best efforts of her candidates.
+
+"My, but ain't you slick?" she cried, allowing her smiling gaze to
+remain looking straight into his face in a way she knew never failed
+to confuse her admirers on Suffering Creek. She watched till the
+sturdy man's eyes turned away, and knew that he was groping for an
+adequate retort. This effect was the result of practice with her, a
+practice she thoroughly enjoyed.
+
+The "leg-of-mutton" hands fumbled their way into the tops of Toby's
+trousers, and, with a sudden self-assertion, which fitted him badly,
+he lurched over to the table, beyond which Birdie was standing. It was
+his intention to seat himself thereon, but his tormentor had not yet
+reached the point where she could allow such intimacy.
+
+"Say, I ain't ast you to sit around," she said, with an alluring pout.
+"Men-folk don't sit around in a lady's' parlor till they're ast.
+'Sides, the table's fixed fer breakfast. And anyway it ain't for
+settin' on."
+
+Toby moved away quickly, his attempt at ease deserting him with
+ludicrous suddenness. At sight of his blushing face Birdie relaxed her
+austerity.
+
+"Say, ain't you soft?" she declared, with a demure lowering of her
+lids. "I've allus heerd say, you only got to tell a feller don't, an'
+he sure does it quick. Men-folk is that contrary. Now--"
+
+The encouragement brought its reward. Toby promptly sat himself on the
+table and set it creaking.
+
+"Well, I do declare!" cried Birdie, in pretended indignation. "And I
+never ast you, neither. I don't know, I'm sure. Some folks has
+nerve."
+
+But this time Toby was not to be intimidated. Perhaps it was the
+girl's bright smile. Perhaps, with marvelous inspiration, he saw
+through her flirtatious methods. Anyway, he remained where he was,
+grinning sheepishly up into her face.
+
+"Guess you best push me off. I ain't heavy," he dared her clumsily.
+
+"I sure wouldn't demean myself that way," she retorted. "Gee, me
+settin' hands on a feller like you. It would need a prize-fighter."
+
+The acknowledgment of his size and strength was a subtle tribute which
+pleased the man, as it was intended to. He preened himself and drew
+his knees up into his arms, in an attitude intended to be one of
+perfect ease and to show his confidence.
+
+"I sure ain't much of a feller for strength," he said modestly, eyeing
+his enormous arms and hands affectionately. "You ought to see Wild
+Bill. He--he could eat me, an' never worry his digestion."
+
+Birdie laughed happily. She was always ready to laugh at a man's
+attempt at humor. That was her way.
+
+"You are a queer one," she said, seating herself on the opposite edge
+of the table, so that she was sufficiently adjacent, and at the
+requisite angle at which to carry on her flirtation satisfactorily.
+"Say," she went on, with a down drooping of her eyelids, "why ain't
+you in there playin' poker? Guess you're missin' heaps o' fun. I wish
+I was a 'boy.' I wouldn't miss such fun by sitting around in here."
+
+"Wouldn't you?" Toby grinned, while his brains struggled to find a
+happy reply. "Well, you see," he hazarded at last, "poker an' whisky
+ain't to be compared to talkin' to a dandy fine gal with yaller hair
+an' elegant blue eyes."
+
+He passed one of his great hands across his forehead as though his
+attempt had made him perspire. But he had his reward. Birdie contrived
+a blush of pleasure, and edged a little nearer to him.
+
+"Gee, you can talk pretty," she declared, her lips parted in an
+admiring smile. "It makes me kind o' wonder how you fellers learn it."
+Then she added demurely, "But I ain't pretty, nor nothing like you
+fellers try to make out. I'm jest an ord'nary sort of girl."
+
+"No you ain't," broke in Toby, feeling that his initial success had
+put him on the top of the situation, and that he had nothing now to
+fear. Besides, he really felt that Birdie was an uncommonly nice girl,
+and, in a vague way, wondered he had never noticed it before.
+
+"That you ain't," he went on emphatically. Then he added as though to
+clinch his statement, "not by a sight."
+
+This brought him to a sudden and uncomfortable stop. He knew he ought
+to go on piling up compliment on compliment to make good his point.
+But he had emptied his brain cells by his threefold denial, and now
+found himself groping in something which was little better than a
+vacuum. And in his trouble he found himself wishing he was gifted with
+Sunny's wit. Wild Bill's force would have carried him through, or even
+Sandy Joyce's overweening confidence would have kept his head above
+water. As it was he was stuck. Hopelessly, irretrievably at the end of
+his resources.
+
+He perspired in reality now, and let his knees drop out of his arms.
+This movement was his salvation. With the relaxing of his physical
+effort the restraining grip upon his thinking powers gave way.
+Inspiration leaped, and he found himself talking again almost before
+he was aware of it.
+
+"You're a real pretty gal, Birdie," he heard himself saying. "Now,
+maybe you got some kids?" he added, with an automatic grin of
+ingratiation.
+
+How the inquiry slipped out he never knew. How it had been formulated
+in his brain remained a riddle that he was never able to solve. But
+there it was, plain and decided. There was no shirking it. It was out
+in all its naked crudeness.
+
+There was a moment's pause which might have been hours, it seemed so
+horribly long to the waiting man. He became dimly aware of a sudden
+hardening in Birdie's eyes, a mounting flush to her cheeks and
+forehead, a sudden, astounding physical movement, and then the
+work-worn palm of her hand came into contact with his cheek with such
+force as to prove the value to her physical development of the
+strenuous labors which were hers.
+
+He never thought a woman's hand could sting so much. He never thought
+that he could be made to feel so mean as this girl's sudden vehemence
+made him feel.
+
+"How dare you, you bumming remittance feller?" she cried, with eyes
+blazing and bosom heaving. "How dare you--you--you--" And then she
+further punished him with that worst of all feminine punishments--she
+burst into tears.
+
+The next few moments were never quite clear to the distracted and
+unthinking Toby. He never really knew what actually happened. He had a
+confused memory of saying things by way of apology, of making several
+pacific overtures, which met with physical rebuffs of no mean order,
+and tearful upbraidings which were so mixed up with choking sniffs as
+to be fortunately more or less unintelligible. Finally, when he came
+to his ordinary senses, and the dead level of his understanding was
+fully restored, he found himself grasping the girl firmly by the
+waist, her golden head lying snugly on his massive shoulder, and with
+a distinct recollection of warm ripe lips many times pressed upon his
+own. All of which was eminently pleasing.
+
+When once these comfortable relations were thoroughly established, he
+had no difficulty in clearing the clouds from her horizon, and
+relegating her tears into the background. Her nature was of a much too
+smiling order to need a great deal of coaxing. But explanation was
+needed, and explanation never came easily to this stalwart dullard.
+
+"Y'see, what I meant was," he said, with a troubled frown of intense
+concentration, "maybe you know about kids. I didn't mean offense, I
+sure didn't. Everybody knows our Birdie to be jest a straight,
+up-standin', proper gal, who wouldn't hurt nobody, nor nuthin', 'cep'
+it was a buzzin' fly around the supper hash. No feller don't take no
+account o' her bein' a pot-wallopin', hash-slingin' mutton rustler. It
+sure ain't no worse than ladlin' swill to prize hogs. It's jest in the
+way o' business. 'Sides, she don't need to care what no fellers
+thinks. She ain't stuck on men-folk wuth a cent."
+
+"That I sure ain't," asserted a smothered voice from the bosom of his
+dirty shirt.
+
+"That you ain't," he reassured her. "You're jest a dandy gal as 'ud
+make any feller with a good patch o' pay dirt a real elegant sort o'
+wife."
+
+The golden head snuggled closer into his shirt.
+
+"You ain't got no patch o' pay dirt, Toby?" she inquired.
+
+Toby shook his head all unsuspiciously.
+
+"No sech luck," he asserted. Then with a sudden burst of gallantry,
+"If I had I don't guess there'd be no Birdie Mason chasin' around
+these parts unbespoke."
+
+The girl's eyes developed an almost childish simplicity as they looked
+up into his foolish face.
+
+"What d'you mean?"
+
+"Mean? Why, jest nothin', only--"
+
+Toby laughed uneasily. And a shadow crossed Birdie's face.
+
+"I don't guess the patch o' pay dirt matters a heap," she said, with
+subtle encouragement.
+
+"That's so," agreed Toby.
+
+"Y'see, a gal don't marry a feller fer his patch o' pay dirt," she
+went on, doing her best.
+
+"Sure she don't."
+
+But Toby's enthusiasm was rapidly cooling. The girl breathed a sigh of
+perfect content. And her heavy breathing was fast making a moist patch
+amidst the gravel stains on his shirt front.
+
+"She jest loves a feller--"
+
+Toby's arm slipped from her waist, and a hunted look crept into his
+foolish eyes.
+
+"An' she don't care nothin'--"
+
+The man was suddenly seized with a racking fit of coughing, which
+somehow jolted the girl into an upright position.
+
+"Course she don't," he agreed, when his paroxysm had passed. "Say, you
+don't think I got newmony?" he inquired, feeling the need for an
+abrupt change of subject. "I was allus weak-chested as a kid. An'
+talkin' o' kids," he hurried on, in his terror recalling the object
+of his visit, "guess you ken put me wise."
+
+"Kids? I wasn't talkin' of kids," protested the girl a little
+angrily.
+
+She was hurt. Cruelly hurt. All her best efforts had gone for nothing.
+A moment before Toby had seemed so nearly hers, and now--
+
+"No. I didn't guess you were. But--that is--you see--"
+
+The man floundered heavily and broke off. His look was one of comical
+confusion and trouble. So much so that it was too much for the girl's
+good nature.
+
+"Whose kids?" she demanded, the familiar smile creeping back into her
+eyes, and her lips pursing dryly. "Yours?"
+
+"Oh, no," denied the man quickly. "Not mine. It's Zip's. Y'see, since
+his wife's lit out he's kind o' left with 'em. An' he's that
+fool-headed he don't know how to raise 'em proper. So I guessed I'd
+help him. Now, if you put me wise--"
+
+"You help raise Zip's kids? Gee!" The girl slid off the table and
+stood eyeing him, her woman's humor tickled to the limit.
+
+But Toby did not realize it. He was in deadly earnest now.
+
+"Yes," he said simply. Then, with a gleam of intelligence, "How'd you
+raise 'em?"
+
+The girl was suddenly stirred to a feeling of good-humored malice.
+
+"How'd I raise 'em? Why, it ain't jest easy."
+
+"It sure ain't," agreed Toby heartily. "Now, how'd you feed 'em?"
+
+Birdie became judicially wise.
+
+"Well," she began, "you can't jest feed 'em same as ord'nary folks.
+They need speshul food. You'll need to give 'em boiled milk plain or
+with pap, you kin git fancy crackers an' soak 'em. Then ther's
+beef-tea. Not jest ord'nary beef-tea. You want to take a boilin' o'
+bones, an' boil for three hours, an' then skim well. After that you
+might let it cool some, an' then you add flavorin'. Not too much, an'
+not too little, jest so's to make it elegant tastin'. Then you cook
+toasties to go with it, or give 'em crackers. Serve it to 'em hot, an'
+jest set around blowin' it so it don't scald their little stummicks.
+Got that? You can give 'em eggs, but not too much meat. Meat well done
+an' cut up wi' vegetables an' gravy, an' make 'em eat it with a spoon.
+Knives is apt to cut 'em. Eggs light boiled, an' don't let 'em rub the
+yolk in their hair, nor slop gravy over their bow-ties. Candy, some,
+but it ain't good for their teeth, which needs seein' to by a dentist,
+anyway. Say, if they're cuttin' teeth you ken let 'em chew the beef
+bones, it helps 'em thro'. Fancy canned truck ain't good 'less it's
+baked beans, though I 'lows beans cooked reg'lar is best. You soak 'em
+twenty-four hours, an' boil 'em soft, an' see the water don't boil
+away. Fruit is good if they ain't subjec' to colic, which needs
+poultices o' linseed, an' truck like that. Don't let 'em eat till
+they're blown up like frogs, an'--you got all that?"
+
+"Ye-es," replied the bewildered man a little helplessly.
+
+"Well," continued the smiling girl, "then there's their manners an'
+things."
+
+Toby nodded vaguely.
+
+"You'll need to give 'em bed at sundown," Birdie hurried on. "An' up
+at sunrise. Clothes needs washin' at least once a month--with soap.
+See they says their prayers, an' bath 'em once a week reg'lar--with
+soap. But do it Sundays. An' after that give 'em a Bible talk for an
+hour. Then I dessay they'll need physic once a week--best give it
+Saturday nights. Don't fix 'em that way same as a horse, their
+stummicks ain't made of leather. You got all that?"
+
+Toby gave a bewildered nod.
+
+"How 'bout when they're sick?" he asked.
+
+"Sick? Why, see they don't muss their clothes," Birdie answered
+cheerfully. "Guess that's put you wise to most everything."
+
+"Sure." Toby slid from the table, feeling dazed. Nor had he the
+courage to ask any more questions. He was trying hard to fix the
+salient points of the information in his whirling brain, but all he
+could remember was that all washing must be done with soap, and the
+children must have bones to keep their teeth right. He clung to these
+things desperately, and felt that he must get away quickly before
+they, too, should slip through the sieve of his memory.
+
+"Guess I'll git along an'--an' see to things," he murmured vaguely,
+without glancing in Birdie's direction. "You said beef bones?" he
+added, passing a hand perplexedly across his forehead.
+
+"Sure," smiled the girl.
+
+"Good. Thanks." Then he moved heavily off. "Beef bones and soap--bath
+an' Bible talk; beef bones an' soap--"
+
+The girl watched him vanish behind the closing door, muttering as he
+went to "see to things."
+
+She stood for some moments where he had left her. The smile was still
+in her eyes, but its humor had died out. She was unfeignedly sorry he
+had gone. He was such a good-natured simpleton, she thought. A real
+good-hearted sort. Just the sort to make a husband worth having. Ah,
+well, he had gone! Better luck next time.
+
+She turned away with a deep, sentimental sigh, and crossed over to the
+cupboard. She drew out her work once more and again spread out the
+crumpled paper pattern upon the gossamer lawn.
+
+Yes, Toby would have suited her well. She heaved another sigh. He had
+remittances from home, too. And he wouldn't be difficult to manage.
+His head was rather a funny shape, and his face didn't suggest
+brightness, but then--
+
+She began to snip at the material with her rusty scissors. But just as
+her mind had fully concentrated upon her task a sudden sound startled
+her. She looked up, listening, and the next moment the door was flung
+wide, and Sandy Joyce stood framed in the opening.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+BIRDIE GIVES MORE ADVICE
+
+
+The ordinary woman would probably have resented this second
+interruption, taking into consideration the nature of Birdie's
+occupation, and the fact that Toby's visit had hardly proved a success
+from her point of view. But Birdie was only partially ordinary. Her
+love and admiration for the opposite sex was so much the chief part of
+her composition that all other considerations gave way before it. Her
+heart thrilled with a sickly sentiment at all times. To her men were
+the gods of the universe, and, as such, must be propitiated, at least
+in theory. In practice it might be necessary to flout them, to tease
+them, even to snub them--on rare occasions. But this would only come
+after intimacy had been established. After that her attitude would be
+governed by circumstances, and even then her snubs, her floutings, her
+teasing, would only be done as a further lure, a further propitiation.
+She loved them all with a wonderful devotion. Her heart was large, so
+large that the whole race of men could have been easily lost in its
+mysterious and obscure recesses.
+
+Again her work was bundled into the cupboard, the poor flimsy pattern
+further suffering. But beyond a casual wonder if the garment would
+eventually be wearable, cut from so mangled a pattern, she had no real
+care.
+
+Her smiling eyes turned readily upon the newcomer the moment her
+secret labors had been hidden from prying male eyes. And there was no
+mistaking her cordiality for this cold-eyed visitor.
+
+"Sakes alive! but you do look fierce," she cried challengingly. "You
+sure must be in a bad temper."
+
+But Sandy's expression was simply the outcome of long and difficult
+consideration. As a matter of fact, in his hard way, he was feeling
+very delighted. His past married experience had brought him to the
+conviction that here was the only person in Suffering Creek who could
+help him.
+
+And, furthermore, he was well satisfied to think that only his
+experience as a married man could have suggested to him this means of
+gaining the information required by their president, and so shown him
+the way to surpass his comrades in his efforts on behalf of the
+Trust.
+
+But his knowledge of womankind warned him that he must not be too
+hasty. He must not show his hand until he had established himself in a
+favorable position in the susceptible Birdie's heart. With this object
+in view he set himself to offer his blandishments in characteristic
+fashion. He did not suffer from Toby's complaint of bashfulness.
+Married life had cured him of that. In consequence, his method, if
+crude, was direct.
+
+"I can't say the same of you, Birdie," he declared unsmilingly.
+"You're bloomin' as--as a kebbige."
+
+"Kebbige?" sniffed the girl.
+
+"Kebbige, sure," nodded the man of married experience. "Guess mebbe it
+ain't a bokay fer smell. But fer taste--with corned beef? Gee!"
+
+Birdie took no umbrage.
+
+"You got to it--after awhiles," she remarked slyly. Then she added,
+with a gush, "D'you know, I'm allus most scared to death of you men.
+You're that big an' strong, it makes me feel you could well-nigh eat
+me."
+
+Sandy availed himself of the invitation.
+
+"A tasty mouthful," he declared. And without more ado he passed round
+the table, caught her quickly in his arms, and, without the smallest
+expression of interest, kissed her. If interest were lacking, his
+movements were so swift that, had the girl the least idea of avoiding
+the embrace--which she hadn't--she would have found it difficult to do
+so.
+
+"You men are ones!" she declared, with a little gasp, as his arms fell
+from about her.
+
+"How's that?"
+
+"I never did--the cheek of some of you!"
+
+"A feller needs cheek," replied the self-satisfied widower.
+"'Specially with pretty gals around," he added condescendingly.
+
+Birdie eyed him archly.
+
+"Gals?" she inquired.
+
+"I should have said 'gal.'"
+
+The laughing nod that rewarded him assured Sandy that he was well on
+the right track, and at once he took the opportunity of introducing
+the object of his visit.
+
+"Say," he began, "guess you never tho't o' gettin' hitched up to a
+feller?"
+
+Birdie lowered her eyelids and struggled for a blush, which somehow
+defied her best efforts. But her subtleties were quite lost upon
+Sandy, and in his eagerness he waited for no reply.
+
+"No, course you hain't. You got so many beaus to choose from. 'Sides,"
+he added thoughtfully, "gettin' married sure needs special savvee.
+What I mean," he explained, seeing the amused wonder in the girl's now
+wide eyes, "you kind o' need eddicatin' to git married. Y'see, when
+you get fixed that way you sort of, in a manner of speakin', got to
+unlearn things you never learnt, an' learn them things what can't
+never be taught. What I mean is, marriage is a sort of eddication of
+itself, wot don't learn you nuthin' till you git--unmarried. Savee?"
+
+The girl shook her head in bewilderment.
+
+"That's sure too bright fer me."
+
+"That's 'cos you ain't been married. Y'see, I have."
+
+"Can't you put it easier--seein' I ain't been married?"
+
+"Sure I can." Sandy took up a position, on the edge of the table with
+such a judicial air that the girl started to giggle.
+
+"See here," he began largely. "Now what d'you know 'bout kids--raisin'
+'em, I mean?"
+
+The girl's eyes twinkled on the verge of laughing outright.
+
+"Zip's kids?" she inquired shrewdly.
+
+Sandy started and frowned.
+
+"What d'you mean--Zip's kids?"
+
+"Oh, just nothing," said Birdie airily. "Seein' kids was in your mind,
+I naturally tho't o' Zip's."
+
+Sandy nodded. But he was only half convinced. How on earth, he
+wondered, did she know he was thinking of Zip's kids? He felt that it
+would be best to nip that idea in the bud. It was undignified that he
+should appear to be interested in Zip's twins.
+
+"I ain't interested in no special kids," he said, with some dignity.
+"I was just theorizin'--like. Now, if you got married, wot you know of
+raisin' kids? Guess you're that ignorant of the subject maybe you'd
+feed 'em hay?"
+
+Birdie laughed dutifully, but her retort was rather disconcerting.
+
+"You bin married--how'd you feed 'em? I'm learning."
+
+"How'd I feed 'em?" Sandy eyed his tormentor severely. "That ain't the
+question. How'd you feed 'em?"
+
+The girl thought for a moment, and then looked up brightly.
+
+"If they was Zip's kids--"
+
+"I said they ain't."
+
+"Well, if they were, I'd say--"
+
+"See here, cut Zip's kids out. They ain't in this shootin' match,"
+cried Sandy testily.
+
+But Birdie persisted slyly.
+
+"Y'see, I must get some kids in my eye if I'm to answer you right,"
+she said. "I can see things better that way. Now, if they were Zip's
+kids--"
+
+"Which they ain't," asseverated the man doggedly.
+
+"Which they ain't," nodded Birdie, "I'd feed 'em cereals an' pap--"
+
+Sandy's face suddenly cleared. His whole being seemed to expand.
+
+"Say, you're a bright gal," he declared. "Cereals an' pap. That's dead
+right. Say, you know more than--You'd give 'em milk to drink--now?" he
+suggested.
+
+"Oh no, nothing like that. Water."
+
+The man looked disappointed.
+
+"Water?" he said. "You sure of that? But I guess you'd give 'em
+banannys?"
+
+Again the girl shook her head.
+
+"Fruit gives 'em colic."
+
+"Ah, yes, that's so. They'd need physic then, wouldn't they?"
+
+"You need to be easy with physic, too," declared the girl, with
+sparkling eyes. "Don't give 'em physic ever unless they're real
+sick."
+
+The man's crestfallen appearance set Birdie giggling. She was enjoying
+the situation. She meant to upset all Sandy's preconceived ideas.
+
+"Now, pork?" he suggested, but with less assurance.
+
+But Birdie was obdurate.
+
+"Never," she declared emphatically. "Beans, yes. There's good
+nourishment in beans. Then ther's fresh vegetables--heaps of 'em."
+
+"Ah! Now, how 'bout fixin' them right--the kids, I mean? Guess they'll
+need bathin'."
+
+But Birdie fell upon him with a strong denial.
+
+"Bath?" she cried. "Gee! you do run on. Guess you want to hand 'em
+newmony. Kids sure don't never need bathin'. Jest a lick with soap an'
+hot water once a week. An' say," she went on, suddenly remembering
+something she had told Toby in a fit of mischief, "kep their food
+soft, or you'll break their young teeth."
+
+Sandy's eyes lit, and in an unguarded moment he admitted that the
+thought had occurred to him. Birdie caught him up at once.
+
+"I tho't you was just astin' me these questions to see if I was right
+for gettin' married?" she protested innocently.
+
+"That's so--course," he said hastily. Then he wriggled out of it. "But
+how'd I be able to say you was right if I hadn't tho't on things some
+myself?"
+
+"Ah! I didn't just think of that."
+
+"Course not. Gals never see the fine points of good argyment."
+
+Sandy's superiority was overwhelming, but Birdie had borne with him
+with amused patience until now. She had known him a long time as a
+boarder, but never until now had she realized the blundering conceit
+that was his. She felt that she had given him rope enough, and it was
+time to bring him up with a jerk.
+
+"Thank you kindly, sir," she mocked him, curtseying.
+
+"You're welcome, ma'am," Sandy returned, with a clumsy bow, failing to
+realize her change of attitude.
+
+"If you guess I'm right for marryin', maybe you'll hand me my
+diploma," she said, with a demure down-drooping of her eyelids.
+
+She waited, and finally glanced up into his flushed face. Her sarcasm
+had struck home at last, and without hesitation she went on
+mercilessly--
+
+"Say, if you ain't goin' to hand me a diploma, guess you can let me
+get on with my sewin'. Havin' been a married man, maybe you'll
+understand men-folk ain't a heap of use around when a woman's sewin'.
+Guess they're handy ladlin' out most things, but I'd say a man ain't
+no more use round the eye of a needle than a camel."
+
+Sandy's dignity and temper were ruffled. It was inconceivable
+that Birdie--or, as he mentally apostrophized her, "this blamed
+hash-slinger"--should so flout him. How dared she? He was so
+angry that words for once utterly failed him, and he moved towards
+the door with gills as scarlet as any blustering turkey-cock. But
+Birdie had no idea of sparing him, and hurled her final sarcasm
+as she turned again to her cupboard.
+
+"I'd hate to be one o' Zip's kids with you gettin' busy around me,"
+she cried, chuckling in an infuriating manner.
+
+It was too much for Sandy. He turned fiercely as he reached the door.
+
+"You're 'bug,'" he declared roughly. "I tell you, Zip's kids ain't
+nothin' to do with me--"
+
+"Which, I'd say, was lucky for them," cried Birdie airily.
+
+"An' I'd jest like to say that when a genelman gits around to do the
+perlite by a no-account mutton-worrier, he figgers to be treat
+right--"
+
+Birdie turned on him with cold eyes.
+
+"I'll sure be treatin' you right," she said, "when I tell you that
+door don't need shuttin' after you. It's on the swing."
+
+She did not wait to witness her guest's departure. She felt it would
+not be graceful, under the circumstances. So, pushing her head into
+the cupboard, she once more gathered up her work.
+
+When the soft swish of the swing-door told her that Sandy's departure
+had been taken, she emerged with her bundle and spread it out on the
+table for the third time. She was all smiles. She was not a bit angry
+with the foolish widower. This dogmatic attitude of mind, this
+wonderful self-satisfaction, were peculiar to the creature; he
+couldn't help it. But it had roused a mischievous spirit in her, and
+the temptation was too great to resist. The only thing she regretted
+was having let him kiss her, and she at once put up her hand to wipe
+the spot where the operation had been performed. At any rate, she had
+certainly taken him down a peg or two, and the thought set her in high
+good-humor.
+
+Nor could she help wondering at his stupidity in imagining she
+couldn't see through his desire for information about children. It was
+laughable, coming after Toby's. Oh, these men! They were dear, foolish
+creatures. Poor kids, she thought, her mind reverting to Zip's twins.
+What had they done to have this pack of foolish people worrying over
+them? Were they all going to take a hand in bringing the youngsters
+up? Well, anyhow, she pitied them.
+
+She smiled at her thoughts as the busy scissors snipped their way
+round the pattern. These men were too funny. First Toby, now
+Sandy--who next?
+
+She started and looked up, her scissors poised in the air. The
+swing-door had swished open, and Wild Bill stood before her.
+
+"Good sakes!" she cried. "How you scared me!" Then, realizing what lay
+before her, she grabbed up her work, and was for returning it to the
+cupboard.
+
+But Wild Bill was in a hurry. Besides, he had nothing of the
+ingratiating ways of the other men about him. He saw her object, and
+stayed her in his own peculiar authoritative fashion.
+
+"Say, you can quit huggin' them fixin's," he cried. "I ain't come
+pryin' around a leddy's wardrobe. You ken jest set down with paper an'
+ink an' things, an' write down how best Zip's kids can be raised. I'll
+git right back for it in ha'f-an-hour."
+
+Nor did he wait for any reply. It was taken for granted that his
+demands would be promptly acceded to, and he vanished as abruptly as
+he came. The swing-door closed, and Birdie gave a sigh.
+
+"An' him, too," she murmured. "Well, I do declare. It just licks
+creation."
+
+But this was a different proposition to either Toby or Sandy. She
+sprang to her task for the great Wild Bill in a way that spoke volumes
+for her sentimental heart. Wild Bill? Well, she would never have owned
+it, but there was just one man in the world that scared Birdie to
+death, and at the same time made her think her path was a bed of
+roses, and that was Wild Bill. In an astonishingly short time she was
+sitting at the table poring over a writing-pad, and biting the already
+well-chewed end of a pen.
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+Outside, in the smoke-laden atmosphere of the store, amidst the busy
+click of poker chips and clink of glasses, Wild Bill was talking
+earnestly to Minky, who was standing behind the counter.
+
+They had been talking for some time. Minky's eyes frequently wandered
+in the direction of a table where four strangers were playing. But no
+one could have guessed, in his quiet scrutiny, the anxiety that lay
+behind it.
+
+"You _must_ git out to-night?" he inquired of his hawk-visaged
+friend.
+
+"Sure," responded Bill absently.
+
+"High finance?"
+
+Bill nodded, with the ghost of a smile.
+
+"A gang of rich guys," he said. "They're gathering at Spawn City for a
+financial descent on Suffering Creek. They're all minin' folk. Guess
+they'll be yearning for a big game."
+
+"When'll you git back?"
+
+"Noon, day after to-morrow, maybe."
+
+Bill had turned away, and was abstractedly contemplating the
+strangers. Suddenly he turned again, and his steely eyes fixed
+themselves on the troubled Minky.
+
+"Say, things is gettin' on your nerves. It ain't yet. Those folks is
+only lookin' fer pointers."
+
+"An' findin' 'em?"
+
+"Mebbe. But it takes time. Say, we ain't dead in Suffering Creek yet.
+I'll be around before--"
+
+"Trouble gits busy." Minky laughed hollowly.
+
+"Sure. I'm most gener'ly around when trouble--gits busy. I'm made like
+that."
+
+"I'm glad."
+
+Bill drank up the remains of his drink and began to move away.
+
+"Wher' you going now?" inquired Minky.
+
+"See my plugs fed an' watered, and then gittin' around my shack. I've
+got to see some folks before I hit the trail. Say, I ain't got big
+enough wad. Best hand me a couple o' thousand."
+
+Minky dived under his counter, and, after fumbling for some time,
+reappeared with the required sum in United States currency.
+
+"Good luck," he said, as he passed it across the counter cautiously.
+
+"Thanks. An', say--see the boys keep a close eye on Zip--an' the kids.
+So long."
+
+He moved away, but instead of passing out of the front door he
+disappeared into the dining-room at the back.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+THE TRUST AT WORK
+
+
+Wild Bill's hut presented an unusually animated appearance. The
+customary oil-lamp was receiving the support of two vilely smelling
+yellow candles. The additional light thus obtained was hardly in
+proportion to the offensiveness of the added aroma. Still, the remoter
+corners of the place were further lit up, and the rough faces of the
+four occupants of the room were thrown into stronger relief.
+
+But the animation of the scene was rather a matter of visual illusion
+than actuality. For Wild Bill, in his right of proprietorship, was
+lounging on his blanketed bunk, while Toby's inanimate form robbed him
+of the extreme foot of it. Sunny Oak was hugging to himself what
+comfort there was to be obtained from the broken chair, which usually
+supported Bill's wash bucket, set well within elbow-reach of the table
+on which the illuminations had been placed. Sandy Joyce with unusual
+humility--possibly the result of his encounter with Birdie--was
+crouching on an upturned cracker box.
+
+There was a wonderful intentness, expectancy in every eye except
+Bill's. In Toby's there was triumphal anticipation, in Sandy's a
+conscious assurance. Bill had just come in from preparing his horses
+for their night journey, and, with an hour and more to spare, and the
+prospect of a long night before him, was anxious to take things as
+easy as possible.
+
+Reaching his arms above his head he pushed his hands behind it for
+support, and opened the proceedings.
+
+"You fellers been busy?" he inquired.
+
+And promptly every mouth opened to give proud assurance. But the
+gambler checked the impulse with grating sarcasm.
+
+"I ain't got but one pair ears," he said, "so you'll each wait till
+you're ast questions. Bein' president o' this yer Trust I'll do most
+of the yappin'," he added grimly. "I'm goin' away to-night fer a
+couple o' days. That's why this meetin's called. An' the object of it
+is to fix things right for Zip, an' to 'range so he gits a chance to
+put 'em through. Now, I seen enough of him--an' others," with a swift,
+withering glance in Sunny's direction, "to know he's right up again a
+proposition that ain't no one man affair. Combination is the only
+bluff to fix them kids of his right. We've most of us got ideas, but
+like as not they ain't all we guess 'em to be. In some cases ther'
+ain't a doubt of it. Without sayin' nothin' of anybody, I sure
+wouldn't trust Toby here to raise a crop of well-grown weeds--without
+help. An' Sandy, fer all he's a married man, don't seem to have
+prospered in his knowledge of kids. As for Sunny, well, the sight of
+him around a kid ain't wholesome. An' as fer me, guess I may know a
+deal about cookin' a jack-pot, but I'd hate to raise the bet about any
+other kind o' pot. Seein' things is that way with us we'll git to work
+systematic. Ther' ain't a gamble in life that ain't worked the better
+fer a system. So, before we get busy, I'll ast you, Sunny, to grab the
+grip under my bunk, an' you'll find in it, som'eres under the card
+decks, paper an' ink. You'll jest fix them right, an' take things
+down, so we don't make no sort o' mistake."
+
+He waited until Sunny had procured the necessary writing materials and
+set them out on the table. Then he went on in his strong, autocratic
+fashion.
+
+"Now," he said, fixing his eyes on Toby. "You'se fellers has had time
+to make inquiries, an' knowing you fer bright boys I don't guess you
+lost any time. The subject is the raisin' of kids. Mebbe Toby, you
+bein' the youngest member of this doggone Trust, an' a real smart lad,
+mebbe you'll open your face an' give us pointers."
+
+By the time he finished speaking every eye was turned on the
+triumphantly grinning Toby.
+
+"I sure will," he said, with a confidence surprising in a man who had
+been so bashful in his interview with Birdie. Just for a moment one of
+his great hands went up to his cheek, and he gently smoothed it, as
+though the recollection of the slap he had received in the process of
+gathering information was being used to inspire his memory. "Y'see,"
+he began, "I got friends around Suffering Creek what knows all about
+kids. So--so I jest asted 'em, Mr. President."
+
+He cleared his throat and stared up at the roof. He was evidently
+struggling hard with memory.
+
+Bill lolled over and drew a closely written document from his pocket
+and began to peruse it. Sandy tapped the floor impatiently with one
+foot. He was annoyed that his evidence was not demanded first. Sunny
+sat with pen poised, waiting for the word to write.
+
+Toby's eyes grew troubled.
+
+"What they chiefly need," he murmured, his face becoming more and more
+intent, "what they--chiefly--need--is--" He was laboring hard. Then
+suddenly his face brightened into a foolish smile. "I got it," he
+cried triumphantly, "I got it. What kids need is beef bones an'
+soap!"
+
+In the deathly silence that followed his statement Toby looked for
+approving glances. But he looked in vain. Sunny had dropped his pen
+and made a blot on his paper. Sandy's annoyance had changed into
+malicious triumph. But the president of the Trust made no move. He
+merely let his small eyes emit a steely glance over the top of his
+paper, directed with stern disapproval on the hopeful "remittance"
+man.
+
+"An' what 'bug-house,'" he inquired, with biting sarcasm, "is your
+bright friends spendin' their vacation at?"
+
+Toby flushed to the roots of his unkempt hair. The sudden death of his
+triumph was almost tragic. His face fell, and his heavy jaw dropped in
+pathetic astonishment. But it was not Bill's sarcasm alone that so bit
+into his bones, it was the jeering light he witnessed in Sandy's eyes,
+combined with the undisguised ridicule of Sunny's open grin. His blood
+began to rise; he felt it tingling in the great extremities of his
+long arms. The obvious retort of the witless was surging through his
+veins and driving him.
+
+But the Trust president was talking, and the calm of coming storm was
+held for a moment. But it is doubtful if the object of his harangue
+grasped anything of his meaning, so great was his anger against his
+grinning comrades.
+
+"Beef bones an' soap!" cried Bill harshly, at the unheeding man. "If
+they was asses bones we'd sure only need to open up your family
+mausoleum to git enough bones to raise a farm o' babbies on. I'd like
+to say right here, the feller wot don't know the natural use o' soap
+is a danger to the health an' sanitary fixin's o' this yer camp. Beef
+bones an' soap!" he went on, as though the very combination of the
+words was an offense to his gastronomical senses. "You pumpkin-faced
+idjut, you mush-headed tank o' wisdom, you masterpiece of under-done
+mule brain, how in sizzlin' torment you're figgerin' to ladle soap
+into the vitals of inoffendin' babbies, an' push beef bones through
+their innercent stummicks, 'ud par'lize the brains of every science
+society in this yer country to know, an' drive the whole world o'
+physic dealers barkin' like a pack o' mangy coyotes wi' their bellies
+flappin' in a nor'-east blizzard. Gosh-dang it, you misfortunate
+offspring of Jonah parents, we're settin' out to raise kids. We ain't
+startin' a patent manure fact'ry, nor runnin' a Chinese hand
+laundry--"
+
+But the president's picturesque flow was lost in a sudden commotion.
+The calm was broken, and the storm burst. The weight of ridicule in
+his comrades' faces was too much for Toby, and he leapt from the foot
+of the bunk on which he was sitting. He projected himself with more
+force than cunning in the direction of the grinning loafer, bent on
+bodily hurt to his victim. But his leap fell short by reason of
+Sunny's agility. The latter snatched up the oil-lamp and dodged behind
+the table, with the result that Toby's great body sent the candles
+flying, and itself fell amidst the legs of the upset table. He was on
+his feet in an instant, however, ready to continue with all his might
+his vengeful pursuit. But the heavy hand of Bill fell upon his coat
+collar with irresistible force, and, with a jerk, he was hurled across
+the room out of harm's way.
+
+"Ther's more hell to the back o' that if you come ag'in, Toby," the
+gambler cried, with cold threat. "An' as for you, Sunny," he went on,
+turning on the Trust secretary, "I'll set the boys to wash you clean
+in Minky's trough if you so much as smile ag'in till we're through.
+Fix them candles, an' sit right down--the lot of you."
+
+He stood for a moment eyeing the lurid face of Toby. Nor did he move
+until the burly remittance man had pulled himself together. He watched
+him settle himself again on the foot of the bunk, passive but inwardly
+raging. Then, as the candles were once more replaced in the bottles
+and lit, he calmly picked up his document and returned to his couch.
+The whole episode passed in a few moments, and outward equanimity was
+quickly restored. Such was the hot, impulsive nature of these men.
+
+The president lost no time in proceeding with the business in hand. He
+addressed his friends generally.
+
+"I ain't goin' to say a word 'bout the elegant information gathered by
+our bright junior member," he said slowly. "You've all heard it, an' I
+guess that's sure all that's needed. Wher' he got it, is his
+funeral--or should be. Leastways, if it ain't satisfact'ry it shows
+laudable enterprise on his part--which is good for this yer Trust."
+
+He paused and referred to his document. And in that moment, burning to
+further crush Toby, and add to his own glorification by reason of the
+superiority of his information, Sandy cleared his throat to speak.
+This was to be the moment of his triumph. He meant to wipe out the
+memory of past failures in one sweep.
+
+"I consulted a lady friend of mine--" he began. But Bill waved him to
+silence.
+
+"You needn't worry nothin'," he said coldly. "I got it all wrote down
+here."
+
+"How you got it?" cried Sandy. "I ain't said it."
+
+Bill's eyes met the other's angry glance with that cold irony that was
+so much a part of his nature.
+
+"Guess your leddy friend wrote it," he said. And, as he heard the
+words, the last of Toby's ill-humor vanished. His stupid face
+wreathed itself into a broad grin as he watched the blank look of
+disappointment spread itself over Sandy's face.
+
+"Listen here, all of you," the president went on, quite undisturbed by
+the feelings he had stirred in the widower. "This is wot the leddy
+says. She's writ it all so ther' can't be no mistake."
+
+Then he began to read from his document with careful distinctness.
+
+"'Don't take no notice of what I told Toby Jenks an' Sandy Joyce. I
+jest fooled 'em proper. Toby's a nice boy, but he ain't got brains
+enough to kep himself warm on a summer day, so I didn't waste nothin'
+on him, 'cep' time. As fer Sandy, he's sech a con-se-quenshul--' Have
+I got that word right, Sunny?" Bill inquired blandly of the
+secretary.
+
+"You sure have," grinned Sunny, enjoying himself.
+
+"'Sech a consequenshul fool of an idjut man,'" Bill read on, with a
+glance into Sandy's scarlet face, "'that I hadn't no time but to push
+him out of this dinin'-room.'"
+
+"The miser'ble hash-slinger," exploded the exasperated Sandy,
+springing to his feet, his eyes blazing with impotent fury.
+
+"Sit down," commanded the president. "This yere is a proper meetin' of
+the Zip Trust, an' don't call fer no langwidge ag'in a defenseless
+woman."
+
+"Then she ain't no right to say things," cried the outraged man.
+
+"She ain't. She's wrote 'em," retorted Bill, in a manner that left
+nothing more to be said. "'Consequenshul,' was the word," he went on,
+rolling it off his tongue as though he enjoyed its flavor, "an' I
+allow it must have took her thinking some to be so elegant. You'll
+set," he added, glancing up severely at the still standing man.
+
+Sandy dropped back on his box, but he was anything but appeased. His
+dignity was hurt sorely. He, who understood women so well, to be
+treated like this. Then he tried to console himself with the opinion
+that after all Birdie was not exactly a woman, only a "pot-rustler."
+But Bill was pushing the business forward. He wanted to get the matter
+in hand settled.
+
+"Here," he went on, "this is how she says of them kids: 'You can't
+jest lay down reg'lations fer feedin'. Jest feed 'em natural, an' if
+they git a pain dose 'em with physic. Ther's some things you must kep
+'em from gittin' into their stummicks. Kindlin' wood is ridiculous fer
+them to chew, ther' ain't no goodness in it, an' it's li'ble to run
+slivvers into their vitals. Sulphur matches ain't good fer 'em to
+suck. I ain't got nothing to say 'bout the sulphur, but the phospherus
+is sure injurious, an', anyway, it's easy settin' 'emselves afire.
+Kids is ter'ble fond of sand, an' gravel, an' mud, inside an' out.
+Outside ain't no harm, 'cep' it keps you washin' 'em, but inside's
+likely to give 'em colic. Don't let 'em climb on tables an' things.
+Ther' never was a kid who could climb on to a table but what could
+fall off. Don't let 'em lick stove-black off a hot cookstove. This
+don't need explainin' to folk of ord'nary intelligence. Coal is for
+makin' a fire, an' ain't good eatin'. Boilin' water has its uses, but
+it ain't good play fer kids. Guns an' knives ain't needed fer kids
+playin' Injun. These things is jest general notions to kep in your
+head fer ord'nary guidance. Kids' clothes needs washin' every
+Monday--with soap. Mebbe you'll need to wash every day if kids is
+frolicsome. Bow-ties is for Sunday wear. Girl's hair needs braidin'
+every night, an' don't leave chewin' t'baccer around. Kids is sure to
+eat it. Best give 'em physic every Saturday night, an' bath 'em Sunday
+mornin'. Don't use no hand scrubber. If you can't git through the dirt
+by ord'nary washin', best leave it. Kids is tender-skinned anyway.
+After their bath set 'em out in the sun, an' give 'em an elegant Bible
+talk. Ther' ain't nothin' like a Bible talk fer kids. It sets 'em wise
+to religion early, an' gives 'em a good impression o' the folks
+raisin' 'em. Ef they ast too many questions you need to answer 'em
+with discretion--'"
+
+"Wot's she mean by that?" asked Toby, all interest in the mass of
+detail.
+
+"Mean? Why--" Bill paused considering.
+
+Sunny looked up from his writing.
+
+"Why, don't say fool things fer the sake of gassin'!" he explained
+readily. "Everything you tell 'em needs a moral."
+
+"Moral?" murmured Toby vaguely.
+
+"Yes, moral."
+
+But Sandy saw a chance of restoring his fallen prestige, and promptly
+seized upon it.
+
+"Moral," he said, beaming with self-satisfaction, "is handin' a lesson
+all wrop up in fancy words so's to set folks cussin' like mad they
+can't understand it, an' hatin' themselves when they're told its
+meanin'. Now, if I was goin' to show you what a blamed idjut you was
+without jest sayin' so--"
+
+"Shut up!" cried Bill. And without waiting for a reply he read on,
+"'--with discretion. If you treat kids proper they mostly raise
+themselves, which is jest Natur'. Don't worry yourself, 'less they
+fall into a swill-barrel, or do some ridiculous stunt o' that
+natur'--an' don't worry _them_. Ther' ain't no sense to anybody goin'
+around with notions they ken flap their wings, an' cluck like a broody
+hen; an' scratchin' worms is positive ridiculous. Help 'em when they
+need help, otherwise let 'em fall around till they knock sense into
+theirselves. Jest let 'em be kids as long as Natur' fancies, so's when
+they git growed up, which they're goin' to do anyways, they'll likely
+make elegant men an' women. Ef you set 'em under glass cases they'll
+sure get fixed into things what glass cases is made to hold--that's
+images. I don't guess I kin tell you nothin' more 'bout kids, seein' I
+ain't a mother, but jest a pot-wolloper.'"
+
+Bill folded the paper as he finished reading, and silently handed it
+across to the secretary. Somehow he seemed impressed with the
+information the paper contained. The whole meeting seemed impressed.
+Even Sandy had no comment to offer, while Toby resorted to biting his
+forefinger and gazing stupidly at the opposite wall. It was Sunny who
+finally broke the silence.
+
+"Guess I'll jest writ' out the chief points fer Zip's guidance?" he
+asked.
+
+Bill nodded.
+
+"That's it, sure," he agreed. "Jest the chief points. Then you'll hand
+it to Zip to-morrer mornin', an', ef he needs it, you can explain wot
+he ain't wise to. I'd like to say right here that this hash-slinger
+has got savvee. Great big savvee, an' a heap of it. I ain't a hell of
+a lot on the kid racket, they mostly make me sick to death. In a
+manner o' speakin', I don't care a cuss for Zip nor his kids. Ef they
+drown theirselves in a swill-bar'l it's his funeral, an' their luck,
+an' it don't cut no ice with me. But, cuss me, ef I ken stand to see a
+low-down skunk like this yer James come it over a feller-citizen o'
+Suffering Creek, an' it's our duty to see Zip gits thro'. I'm sore on
+James. Sore as hell. I ain't no Bible-thumpin', mush-hearted,
+push-me-amongst-the-angels feller anyways. An' you boys has got to git
+right on to that, quick." He glared round at his friends defiantly, as
+though daring them to do otherwise. But as nobody gave a sign of doubt
+on the subject, he had no alternative but to continue. "I'm jest sore
+on James an'--" He hesitated for the fraction of a second, but went on
+almost immediately. "--ther' may come a time when the play gits busy.
+Get me? Wal," as Sandy and Sunny nodded assent, and Toby sat all eyes
+for the speaker, "this yere Trust is a goin' concern, an', I take it,
+we mean business. So, though we ain't runnin' a noospaper, maybe we'll
+need a fightin' editor after all. If we need a fightin' editor we'll
+sure need a fightin' staff. That's jest logic. I'll ast you right
+here, is you boys that fightin' staff? If so, guess I'm fightin'
+editor. How?"
+
+His eyes were on Sunny Oak. And that individual's unwashed face
+broadened into a cheerful grin.
+
+"Fightin' don't come under the headin' of work--proper," he said.
+"Guess I'm in."
+
+Bill turned on Sandy.
+
+"You ain't got the modest beauty o' the vi'let," he said, with
+saturnine levity. "How you feelin'?"
+
+"Sure good," exclaimed the widower. "But I'd feel better lettin' air
+into the carkis of James."
+
+"Good," muttered Bill. "An' you, Toby?" he went on, turning on the
+"remittance" man. "You're a heap fat, an' need somethin' to get it
+down. How you fancy things?"
+
+"I'd as lief scrap 'side these scalliwags as ag'in 'em," he replied,
+indicating his companions with an amiable grin.
+
+Bill nodded.
+
+"This yere Trust is a proper an' well-found enterprise," he said
+gravely. "As fer Minky, I guess we can count him in most anything that
+ain't dishonest. So--wal, this is jest precautions. Ther's nuthin'
+doin' yet. But you see," he added, with a shadowy grin, "life's mostly
+chock-full of fancy things we don't figger on, an' anyway I can't set
+around easy when folks gets gay. I'll be back to hum day after
+to-morrer, or the next day, an', meanwhiles, you'll see things are
+right with Zip. An' don't kep far away from Minky's store when
+strangers is around. Minky's a good friend o' mine, an' a good friend
+to most o' you, so--well, guns is good med'cine ef folks git gay, an'
+are yearnin' to handle dust what ain't theirs."
+
+"Them strangers?" suggested Sandy. "Is--?"
+
+Bill shrugged.
+
+"Strangers is strangers, an' gold-dust is gold-dust," he said
+shrewdly. "An' when the two git together ther's gener'ly a disease
+sets in that guns is the best med'cine for. That's 'bout all."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+ZIP'S GRATITUDE
+
+
+What a complicated machinery human nature is! It seems absurd that a
+strongly defined character should be just as full of surprises as the
+weakest; that the fantastic, the unexpected, even the illogical, are
+as surely found in the one as in the other. It would be so nice, so
+simple and easy, to sit down and foreshadow a certain course of action
+for a certain individual under a given stress; and to be sure that, in
+human psychology, two and two make precisely four, no more and no
+less.
+
+But such is not the case. In human psychology two and two can just as
+easily make ten, or fifteen, or any other number; and prophecy in the
+matter is about as great a waste of time as worrying over the
+possibilities of the weather. The constitution of the nervous system
+cannot be estimated until put to the test. And when the first test has
+revealed to us the long-awaited secret, it is just as likely to be
+flatly contradicted by the second. The whole thing is the very
+mischief.
+
+Those who knew him would have been quite certain that in Scipio's case
+there could only be one result from the addition of the two and two of
+his psychology. In a man of his peculiar mental caliber it might well
+seem that there could be no variation to the sum. And the resulting
+prophecy would necessarily be an evil, or at least a pessimistic one.
+He was so helpless, so lacking in all the practicalities of human
+life. He seemed to have one little focus that was quite incapable of
+expansion, of adaptability. That focus was almost entirely filled by
+his Jessie's image, with just a small place in it reserved for his
+twins. Take the woman out of it, and, to all intents and purposes, he
+looked out upon a dead white blank.
+
+Every thought in his inadequate brain was centered round his wife. She
+was the mainspring of his every emotion. His love for her was his
+whole being. It was something so great and strong that it enveloped
+all his senses. She was his, and he was incapable of imagining life
+without her. She was his, and only death could alter so obvious a
+fact. She was his vanguard in life's battle, a support that shored up
+his confidence and courage to face, with a calm determination,
+whatever that battle had to offer him.
+
+But with Jessie's going all prophecy would have remained unfulfilled.
+Scipio did not go under in the manner to have been expected of him.
+After the first shock, outwardly at least, there appeared to be no
+change in him. His apparently colorless personality drifted on in
+precisely the same amiable, inconsequent manner. What his moments of
+solitude were, only he knew. The agony of grief through which he
+passed, the long sleepless nights, the heartbreaking sense of loss,
+these things lay hidden under his meaningless exterior, which,
+however, defied the revelation of his secret.
+
+After the passing of the first madness which had sent him headlong in
+pursuit of his wife, a sort of mental evolution set in. That
+unadaptable focus of his promptly became adaptable. And where it had
+been incapable of expansion, it slowly began to expand. It grew, and,
+whereas before his Jessie had occupied full place, his twins now
+became the central feature.
+
+The original position was largely reversed, but it was chiefly the
+growth of the images of his children, and not the diminishing of the
+figure of his wife. And with this new aspect came calmness. Nothing
+could change his great love for his erring Jessie, nothing could wipe
+out his sense of loss; his grief was always with him. But whereas,
+judged by the outward seeming of his character, he should have been
+crushed under Fate's cruel blow, an inverse process seemed to have set
+in. He was lifted, exalted to the almost sublime heights where his
+beacon-fire of duty shone.
+
+Yes, but the whole thing was so absurdly twisted. The care of his
+children occupied his entire time now, so that his work, in seeking
+that which was required to support them, had to be entirely neglected.
+He had fifty dollars between him and starvation for his children. Nor
+could he see his way to earning more. The struggles of his unpractical
+mind were painful. It was a problem quite beyond him. He struggled
+nobly with it, but he saw no light ahead, and, with that curious
+singleness of purpose that was his, he eventually abandoned the
+riddle, and devoted his whole thought to the children. Any other man
+would probably have decided to hire himself out to work on the claims
+of other men, and so hope to earn sufficient to hire help in the care
+of the twins, but not so Scipio. He believed that their future
+well-being lay in his claim. If that could not be worked, then there
+was no other way.
+
+He had just finished clearing up his hut, and the twins were busy with
+their games outside in the sun, aided by their four-legged yellow
+companion, whose voice was always to be heard above their excited
+squabblings and laughter. So Sunny Oak found things when he slouched
+up to the hut with the result of the Trust's overnight meeting in his
+pocket.
+
+The loafer came in with a grin of good-nature on his perspiring and
+dirty face. He was feeling very self-righteous. It was pleasant to
+think he was doing a good work. So much so that the effort of doing it
+did not draw the usual protest from him.
+
+He glanced about him with a tolerant eye, feeling that henceforth,
+under the guidance of the Trust he represented, Scipio's condition
+would certainly be improved. But somehow his mental patronage
+received a quiet set-back. The hut looked so different. There was a
+wholesome cleanliness about it that was quite staggering. Sunny
+remembered it as it was when he had last seen it under his regime, and
+the contrast was quite startling. Scipio might be incapable of
+organization, but he certainly could scour and scrub.
+
+Sunny raked at his beard with his unclean finger-nails. Yes, Zip must
+have spent hours of unremitting labor on the place since he had seen
+it last.
+
+However, he lost no time in carrying out his mission.
+
+"Kind o' busy, Zip?" he greeted the little man pleasantly.
+
+Scipio raised a pair of shadowed eyes from the inside of the
+well-scoured fry-pan he was wiping.
+
+"I'm mostly through fixin' these chores--for awhiles," he replied
+quietly. Then he nodded in the direction of the children's voices.
+"Guess I'm goin' to take the kiddies down to the creek to clean 'em.
+They need cleanin' a heap."
+
+Sunny nodded gravely. He was thinking of those things he had so
+carefully written out.
+
+"They sure do," he agreed. "Bath oncet a week. But not use a
+hand-scrubber, though," he added, under a wave of memory. "Kids is
+tender skinned," he explained.
+
+"Pore little bits," the father murmured tenderly. Then he went on more
+directly to his visitor. "But they do need washin'. It's kind o'
+natural fer kids to fancy dirt. After that," he went on, his eyes
+drifting over to a pile of dirty clothes stacked on a chair, "I'll
+sure have to do a bit of washing." He set the frying-pan down beside
+the stove and moved over to the clothes, picking up the smallest pair
+of child's knickers imaginable. They were black with dirt, and he held
+them up before Sunny's wondering eyes and smiled pathetically.
+"Ridic'lous small," he said, with an odd twist of his pale lips. "Pore
+little gal." Then his scanty eyebrows drew together perplexedly, and
+that curious expression of helplessness that was his crept into his
+eyes. "Them frills an' bits git me some," he said in a puzzled way.
+"Y'see, I ain't never used an iron much, to speak of. It's kind of
+awkward using an iron."
+
+Sunny nodded. Somehow he wished he knew something about using an iron.
+Birdie had said nothing about it.
+
+"Guess you hot it on the stove," he hazarded, after a moment's
+thought.
+
+"Yes, I'd say you hot it," agreed Scipio. "It's after that."
+
+"Yes." Sunny found himself thinking hard. "You got an iron?" he
+inquired presently.
+
+"Sure--two." Scipio laid the knickers aside. "You hot one while you
+use the other."
+
+Sunny nodded again.
+
+"You see," the other went on, considering, "these pretties needs
+washin' first. Well, then I guess they need to dry. Now, 'bout starch?
+'Most everything needs starch. At least, ther' always seems to be
+starch around washing-time. Y'see, I ain't wise to starch."
+
+"Blamed if I am either," agreed Sunny. Then his more practical mind
+asserted itself. "Say, starch kind o' fixes things hard, don't it?" he
+inquired.
+
+"It sure does."
+
+Scipio was trying to follow out his companion's train of thought.
+
+Sunny suddenly sat down on the edge of the table and grinned
+triumphantly.
+
+"Don't use it," he cried, with finality. "You need to remember kiddies
+is tender skinned, anyway. Starch'll sure make 'em sore."
+
+Scipio brightened.
+
+"Why, yes," he agreed, with relief. "I didn't jest think about that.
+I'm a heap obliged, Sunny. You always seem to help me out."
+
+The flush of pleasure which responded to the little man's tribute was
+quite distinguishable through the dirt on the loafer's face.
+
+"Don't mention it," he said embarrassedly. "It's easy, two thinkin'
+together. 'Sides, I've tho't a heap 'bout things since--since I
+started to fix your kiddies right. Y'see, it ain't easy."
+
+"No, it just ain't. That is, y'see, I ain't grumbling," Scipio went on
+hurriedly, lest his meaning should be mistaken. "If you're stuck on
+kiddies, like me, it don't worry you nuthin'. Kind of makes it
+pleasant thinkin' how you can fix things fer 'em, don't it? But it
+sure ain't easy doing things just right. That's how I mean. An' don't
+it make you feel good when you do fix things right fer 'em? But I
+don't guess that comes often, though," he added, with a sigh. "Y'see,
+I'm kind of awkward. I ain't smart, like you or Bill."
+
+"Oh, Bill's real smart," Sunny began. Then he checked himself. He was
+to keep Bill's name out of this matter, and he just remembered it in
+time. So he veered round quickly. "But I ain't smart," he declared.
+"Anything I know I got from a leddy friend. Y'see, women-folk knows a
+heap 'bout kiddies, which, I 'lows, is kind o' natural."
+
+He fumbled in his pocket and drew out several sheets of paper.
+Arranging them carefully, he scanned the scrawling writing on them.
+
+"Guess you're a scholar, so I won't need to read what I writ down
+here. Mebbe you'll be able to read it yourself. I sure 'low the
+spellin' ain't jest right, but you'll likely understand it. Y'see, the
+writin's clear, which is the chief thing. I was allus smart with a
+pen. Now, this yer is jest how our--my--leddy frien' reckons kids
+needs fixin'. It ain't reasonable to guess everything's down ther'.
+They're jest sort o' principles which you need to foller. Maybe
+they'll help you some. Guess if you foller them reg'lations your
+kids'll sure grow proper."
+
+He handed the papers across, and Scipio took them only too willingly.
+His thanks, his delight, was in the sudden lighting up of his whole
+face. But he did not offer a verbal expression of his feelings until
+he had read down the first page. Then he looked up with eyes that were
+almost moist with gratitude.
+
+"Say," he began, "I can't never tell you how 'bliged I am, Sunny.
+These things have bothered me a whole heap. It's kind of you, Sunny,
+it is, sure. I'm that obliged I--"
+
+"Say," broke in the loafer, "that sort o' talk sort o' worrits my
+brain. Cut it out." Then he grinned. "Y'see, I ain't used to thinkin'
+hard. It's mostly in the natur' o' work, an'--well, work an' me ain't
+been friends for years."
+
+But Scipio was devouring the elaborated information Sunny had so
+laboriously set out. The loafer's picturesque mind had drawn heavily
+on its resources, and Birdie's principles had undergone a queer
+metamorphosis. So much so, that she would now have had difficulty
+in recognizing them. Sunny watched him reading with smiling interest.
+He was looking for those lights and shades which he hoped his
+illuminating phraseology would inspire. But Scipio was in deadly
+earnest. Phraseology meant nothing to him. It was the guidance he
+was looking for and devouring hungrily. At last he looked up, his
+pale eyes glowing.
+
+"That's fine," he exclaimed, with such a wonderful relief that it was
+impossible to doubt his appreciation. Then he glanced round the room.
+He found some pins and promptly pinned the sheets on the cupboard
+door. Then he stood back and surveyed them. "You're a good friend,
+Sunny," he said earnestly. "Now I can't never make a mistake. There it
+is all wrote ther'. An' when I ain't sure 'bout nothing, why, I only
+jest got to read what you wrote. I don't guess the kiddies can reach
+them there. Y'see, kiddies is queer 'bout things. Likely they'd get
+busy tearing those sheets right up, an' then wher'd I be? I'll start
+right in now on those reg'lations, an' you'll see how proper the
+kiddies'll grow." He turned and held out his hand to his benefactor.
+"I'm 'bliged, Sunny; I sure can't never thank you enough."
+
+Sunny disclaimed such a profusion of gratitude, but his dirty face
+shone with good-natured satisfaction as he gripped the little man's
+hand. And after discussing a few details and offering a few
+suggestions, which, since the acceptance of his efforts, seemed to
+trip off his tongue with an easy confidence which surprised even
+himself, he took his departure. And he left the hut with the final
+picture of Scipio, still studying his pages of regulations with the
+earnestness of a divinity student studying his Bible, filling his
+strongly imaginative brain. He felt good. He felt so good that he was
+sorry there was nothing more to be done until Wild Bill's return.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+JESSIE'S LETTER
+
+
+Scipio's long day was almost over. The twins were in bed, and the
+little man was lounging for a few idle moments in the doorway of his
+hut. Just now an armistice in his conflict of thought was declared.
+For the moment the exigencies of his immediate duties left him
+floundering in the wilderness of his desolate heart at the mercy of
+the pain of memory. All day the claims of his children had upborne
+him. He had had little enough time to think of anything else, and
+thus, with his peculiar sense of duty militating in his favor, he had
+found strong support for the burden of his grief.
+
+But now with thought and muscles relaxed, and the long night
+stretching out its black wings before him, the gray shadow had risen
+uppermost in his mind once more, and a weight of unutterable
+loneliness and depression bore down his spirit.
+
+His faded eyes were staring out at the dazzling reflections of the
+setting sun upon the silvery crests of the distant mountain peaks. In
+every direction upon the horizon stretched the wonderful fire of
+sunset. Tongues of flame, steely, glowing, ruddy, shot up and athwart
+the picture in ever-changing hues before his unseeing eyes. It was all
+lost upon him. He stared mechanically, while his busy brain struggled
+amongst a tangle of memories and thought pictures. The shadows of his
+misfortune were hard besetting him.
+
+Amidst his other troubles had come a fresh realization which filled
+him with something like panic. He had been forced to purchase stores
+for his household. To do so he had had to pay out the last of his
+fourth ten-dollar bill. His exchequer was thus reduced to ten dollars.
+Ten dollars stood between him and starvation for his children. Nor
+could he see the smallest prospect of obtaining more. His imagination
+was stirred. He saw in fancy the specter of starvation looming,
+hungrily stretching out its gaunt arms, clutching at his two helpless
+infants. He had no thought for himself. It did not occur to him that
+he, too, must starve. He only pictured the wasting of the children's
+round little bodies, he heard their weakly whimperings at the ravages
+of hunger's pangs. He saw the tottering gait as they moved about,
+unconscious of the trouble that was theirs, only knowing that they
+were hungry. Their requests for food rang in his ears, maddening him
+with the knowledge of his helplessness. He saw them growing weaker day
+by day. He saw their wondering, wistful, uncomprehending eyes, so
+bright and beautiful now, growing bigger and bigger as their soft
+cheeks fell away. He--
+
+He moved nervously. He shifted his position, vainly trying to rid
+himself of the haunting vision. But panic was upon him. Starvation--that
+was it. Starvation! God! how terrible was the thought. Starvation! And
+yet, before--before Jessie had gone he had been no better off. He had
+had only fifty dollars. But somehow it was all different then. She was
+there, and he had had confidence. Now--now he had none. Then she was
+there to manage, and he was free to work upon his claim.
+
+Ah, his claim. That was it. The claim lay idle now with all its hidden
+wealth. How he wanted that wealth which he so believed to be there.
+No, he could not work his claim. The children could not be left alone
+all day. That was out of the question. They must be cared for.
+How--how?
+
+His brain grew hot, and he broke out into a sweat. His head drooped
+forward until his unshaven chin rested upon his sunken chest. His eyes
+were lusterless, his two rough hands clenched nervously. Just for one
+weak moment he longed for forgetfulness. He longed to shut out those
+hideous visions with which he was pursued. He longed for peace, for
+rest from the dull aching of his poor torn heart. His courage was at a
+low ebb. Something of the nature of the hour had got hold of him. It
+was sundown. There was the long black night between him and the
+morrow. He felt so helpless, so utterly incapable.
+
+But his moment passed. He raised his head. He stood erect from the
+door casing. He planted his feet firmly, and his teeth gritted. The
+spirit of the man rose again. He must not give way. He would not. The
+children should not starve while there was food in the world. If he
+had no money, he had two strong hands and--
+
+He started. A sudden noise behind him turned him facing about with
+bristling nerves. What was it? It sounded like the falling of a heavy
+weight. And yet it did not sound like anything big. The room was quite
+still, and looked, in the growing dusk, just the same as usual.
+
+Suddenly the children leapt into his thought, and he started for the
+inner room. But he drew up short as he passed behind the table. A
+large stone was lying at his feet, and a folded paper was tied about
+it. He glanced round at the window and--understood.
+
+He stooped and picked the missile up. Then he moved to the window and
+looked out. There was no one about. The evening shadows were rapidly
+deepening, but he was sure there was no one about. He turned back to
+the door where there was still sufficient light for his purposes. He
+sat down upon the sill with the stone in his hand. He was staring at
+the folded paper.
+
+Yes, he understood. And instinctively he knew that the paper was to
+bring him fresh disaster. He knew it was a letter. And he knew whence
+it came.
+
+At last he looked up. The mystery of the letter remained. It was there
+in his hand, waiting the severing of the string that held it, but
+somehow as yet he lacked the courage to read it. And so some moments
+passed. But at last he sighed and looked at it again. Then he reached
+round to his hip for his sheath-knife. The stone dropped to the
+ground, and with it the outer covering of the letter. With trembling
+fingers he unfolded the notepaper.
+
+Yes, it was as he expected, as he knew, a letter from Jessie. And as
+he read it his heart cried out, and the warm blood in his veins seemed
+to turn to water. He longed for the woman whose hand had penned those
+words as he had never longed for anything in his life. All the old
+wound was ruthlessly torn open, and it was as though a hot, searing
+iron had been thrust into its midst. He cared nothing for what she had
+done or was. He wanted her.
+
+It was a letter full of pathetic pleading for the possession of Vada.
+It was not a demand. It was an appeal. An appeal to all that was his
+better nature. His honesty, his manliness, his simple unselfishness.
+It was a letter thrilling with the outpourings of a mother's heart
+craving for possession of the small warm life that she had been at
+such pains to bestow. It was the mother talking to him as he had never
+heard the wife and woman talk. There was a passion, a mother love in
+the hastily scrawled words that drove straight to the man's simple
+heart. One little paragraph alone set his whole body quivering with
+responsive emotion, and started the weak tears to his troubled eyes.
+
+  "Let me have her, Zip. Let me have her. Maybe I've lost my right,
+  but I'm her mother. I brought her into the world, Zip. And what
+  that means you can never understand. She's my flesh and blood.
+  She's part of me. I gave her the life she's got. I'm her mother,
+  Zip, and I'll go mad without her."
+
+He read and re-read the letter. He would have read it a third time,
+but the tears blinded his eyes and he crushed it into his pocket. His
+heart yearned for her. It cried out to him in a great pity. It tore
+him so that he was drawn to words spoken aloud to express his
+feelings.
+
+"Poor gal," he murmured. "Poor gal. Oh, my Jessie, what you done--what
+you done?"
+
+He dashed a hand across his eyes to wipe away the mist of tears that
+obscured his vision and stood up. He was face to face with a situation
+that might well have confounded him. But here, where only his heart
+and not his head was appealed to, there was no confusion.
+
+The woman had said he could not understand. She had referred to her
+motherhood. But Scipio was a man who could understand just that. He
+could understand with his heart, where his head might have failed him.
+He read into the distracted woman's letter a meaning that perhaps no
+other man could have read into it. He read a human soul's agony at the
+severing of itself from all that belonged to its spiritual side. He
+read more than the loss of the woman's offspring. He read the
+despairing thought, perhaps unconscious, of a woman upon whom
+repentance has begun its work. And his simple heart went out to her,
+yearning, loving. He knew that her appeal was granted even before he
+acknowledged it to himself.
+
+And strangely enough the coming of that letter--he did not pause to
+think how it had come--produced a miraculous change in him. His spirit
+rose thrilling with hope, and filled with a courage which, but a few
+moments before, seemed to have gone from him forever. He did not
+understand, he did not pause to think. How could he? To him she was
+still his Jessie, the love and hope of his life. It was her hand that
+had penned that letter. It was her woman's heart appealing to his
+mercy.
+
+"God in heaven," he cried, appealing to the blue vault above him in
+which the stars were beginning to appear. "I can't refuse her. I just
+can't. She wants her so--my poor, poor Jessie."
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was late in the evening when Scipio returned from the camp driving
+Minky's buckskin mule and ancient buckboard. His mind was made up. He
+would start out directly after breakfast on the morrow. He had
+resorted to a pitiful little subterfuge in borrowing Minky's
+buckboard. He had told the storekeeper that he had heard of a prospect
+some distance out, and he wanted to inspect it. He said he intended to
+take Vada with him, but wished to leave Jamie behind. Minky, as a
+member of the Trust, had promptly lent him the conveyance, and
+volunteered to have Jamie looked after down at the store by Birdie
+until he returned. So everything was made easy for him, and he came
+back to his home beyond the dumps with the first feeling of
+contentment he had experienced since his wife had deserted him.
+
+Having made the old mule snug for the night on the leeward side of the
+house, he prepared to go to bed. There was just one remaining duty to
+perform, however, before he was free to do so. He must set things
+ready for breakfast on the morrow. To this end he lit the lamp.
+
+In five minutes his preparations were made, and, after one final look
+round, he passed over to the door to secure it. He stood for a moment
+drinking in the cool night air. Yes, he felt happier than he had done
+for days. Nor could he have said why. It was surely something to do
+with Jessie's letter, and yet the letter seemed to offer little enough
+for hope.
+
+He was going to part with Vada, a thought which filled him with
+dismay, and yet there was hope in his heart. But then where the head
+might easily enough fail his heart had accepted responsibility. There
+was a note in the woman's appeal which struck a responsive chord in
+his own credulous heart, and somehow he felt that his parting with
+Vada was not to be for long. He felt that Jessie would eventually come
+back to him. He felt, though he did not put the thought into words,
+that no woman could feel as she did about her children, and be utterly
+dead to all the old affection that had brought them into the world.
+
+He turned away at last. The air was good to breathe to-night, the
+world was good after all. Yes, it was better than he had thought it.
+There was much to be done to-morrow, so he would "turn in."
+
+It was at that moment that something white lying at his feet caught
+his eye. Instantly he remembered it, and, stooping, picked it up. How
+strange it was the difference of his feelings as he lifted the outer
+wrapping of Jessie's letter now. There was something almost reverent
+in the way he handled the paper.
+
+He closed the door and secured it, and went across to the lamp, where
+he stood looking down at the stained and dirty covering. He turned it
+over, his thoughts abstracted and busy with the woman who had folded
+it ready for its journey to him. Yes, she had folded it, she had sent
+it, she--
+
+Suddenly his abstraction passed, and he bent over the disfiguring
+finger-marks. There was writing upon the paper, and the writing was
+not in Jessie's hand. He raised it closer to his eyes and began to
+read. And, with each word he made out, his faculties became more and
+more angrily concentrated.
+
+  "You'll hand the kid over at once. I'll be on the Spawn City trail
+  ten miles out. If you ain't there with the kid noon to-morrow
+  there's going to be bad trouble.
+
+                                                             James."
+
+"James! James!" Scipio almost gasped the name. His pale eyes were hot
+and furious, and the blood surged to his brain.
+
+He had forgotten James until now. He had forgotten the traitor
+responsible for his undoing. So much was Jessie in his life that James
+had counted for little when he thought of her. But now the scoundrel
+swept all other thoughts pell-mell out of his head. He was suddenly
+ablaze with a rage such as he had never before experienced. All that
+was human in him was in a state of fierce resentment. He hated James,
+and desired with all his small might to do him a bodily hurt. Yes, he
+could even delight in killing him. He would show him no mercy. He
+would revel in witnessing his death agonies. This man had not only
+wronged him. He had killed also the spiritual purity of the mother of
+his children. Oh, how he hated him. And now--now he had dared to
+threaten. He, stained to his very heart's core with villainy, had
+dared to interfere in a matter which concerned a mother's pure love
+for her children. The thought maddened him, and he crushed the paper
+in his hand and ground it under his heel.
+
+He would not do it. He could not. He had forgotten the association to
+which he was sending the innocent Vada. No, no. Innocent little Vada.
+Jessie must do without her.
+
+He flung himself into a chair and gave himself up to passionate
+thought. For two hours he sat there raging, half mad with his hideous
+feelings against James. But as the long hours slipped away he slowly
+calmed. His hatred remained for the man, but he kept it out of his
+silent struggle with himself. In spite of his first heated decision he
+was torn by a guiding instinct that left him faltering. He realized
+that his hatred of the man, and nothing else, was really responsible
+for his negative attitude. And this was surely wrong. What he must
+really consider was the welfare of Vada, and--Jessie. The whole thing
+was so difficult, so utterly beyond him. He was drawn this way and
+that, struggling with a brain that he knew to be incompetent. But in
+the end it was again his heart that was victorious. Again his heart
+would take no denial.
+
+Confused, weary, utterly at a loss to finally decide, he drew out
+Jessie's letter again. He read it. And like a cloud his confusion
+dispersed and his mind became clear. His hatred of James was thrust
+once more into the background. Jessie's salvation depended on Vada's
+going. Vada must go.
+
+He sighed as he rose from his chair and blew out the lamp.
+
+"Maybe I'm wrong," he murmured, passing into the bedroom. "Maybe.
+Well, I guess God'll have to judge me, and--He knows."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+ON THE ROAD
+
+
+Wild Bill had many things to think of on his way back to Suffering
+Creek. He was a tremendously alert-minded man at all times, so
+alert-minded that at no time was he given to vain imaginings, and to
+be alone for long together chafed and irritated him to a degree. His
+life was something more than practicality; it was vigor in an extreme
+sense. He must be doing; he must be going ahead. And it mattered very
+little to him whether he was using vigor of mind or body. Just now he
+was using the former to a purpose. Possibilities and scheming flashed
+through his head in such swift succession as to be enough to dazzle a
+man of lesser mental caliber.
+
+The expressed object of his visit to Spawn City was only one of
+several purposes he had in hand. And though he turned up at the
+principal hotel at the psychological moment when he could drop into
+the big game of poker he had promised himself, and though at that game
+he helped himself, with all the calm amiability in the world, to
+several thousand dollars of the "rich guys'" money, the rest of his
+visit to the silver city was spent in moving about amongst the lower
+haunts where congregated the human jackals which hunt on the outskirts
+of such places.
+
+And in these places he met many friends and acquaintances with whom he
+fraternized for the time being. And his sojourn cost him a good many
+dollars, dollars which he shed unstintingly, even without counting.
+Nor was he the man to part with his money in this casual manner
+without obtaining adequate return, and yet all he had to show as a
+result of his expedition was a word of information here and there, a
+suggestion or two which would scarcely have revealed to the outsider
+the interest which they held for him. Yet he seemed satisfied. He
+seemed very well satisfied indeed, and his reckless spirit warmed as
+he progressed in his peregrinations.
+
+Then, too, he "dined" the sheriff of the county at the only restaurant
+worth while. He spent more than two hours in this man's company, and
+his wine bill was in due proportion to the hardy official's almost
+unlimited capacity for liquid refreshment. Yet even to the most
+interested his purpose would have needed much explanation. He asked so
+few questions. He seemed to lead the conversation in no particular
+direction. He simply allowed talk to drift whither it would. And
+somehow it always seemed to drift whither he most desired it.
+
+Yes, his movements were quite curious during his visit, and yet they
+were commonplace enough to suggest nothing of the depth of subtlety
+which really actuated them. There was even an absurd moment which
+found him in a candy-store purchasing several pounds of the most
+sickly candy he could buy in so rough a place as the new silver town.
+
+However, the time came for him at last to get out on the road again
+for home. And, having prepared his team for the journey, he hitched
+them up to his spring-cart himself, paid his bill, and, with a
+flourish of his whip, and a swagger which only a team of six such
+magnificent horses as he possessed could give him, left the hotel at a
+gallop, the steely muscles of his arms controlling his fiery children
+as easily as the harsh voice of a northern half-breed controls a
+racing dog-train.
+
+And on the journey home his thoughts were never idle for a moment. So
+busy were they that the delicious calm of the night, the wonders of
+the following dawn, the glory of a magnificent sunrise over a green
+world of mountain, valley and plain, were quite lost to his unpoetic
+soul. The only things which seemed able to distract his concentrated
+thoughts were the fiercely buzzing mosquitoes, and these he cursed
+with whole-hearted enthusiasm which embraced a perfect vocabulary of
+lurid blasphemy.
+
+Twice on the journey he halted and unhitched his horses for feed and
+drink and a roll. But the delays were short, and his vigorous methods
+gave them but short respite. He cared for his equine friends with all
+his might, and he drove them in a similar manner. This was the man. A
+life on a bed of roses would not have been too good for his horses,
+but if he so needed it they would have to repay him by driving over a
+red-hot trail.
+
+Now the home stretch lay before him, some twenty miles through a
+wonderful broken country, all spruce and pine forests, crag and
+valley, threaded by a white hard trail which wound its way amidst
+Nature's chaos in a manner similar to that in which a mountain stream
+cuts its course, percolating along the path of the least resistance.
+
+Through this splendid country the untiring team traveled, hauling
+their feather-weight burden as though there was nothing more joyous in
+life. In spite of the length of the journey the gambler had to keep a
+tight pressure on the reins, or the willing beasts would, at any
+moment, have broken into a headlong gallop. Their barn lay ahead of
+them, and their master sat behind them. What more could they want?
+
+Up a sharp incline, and the race down the corresponding decline. The
+wide stretch of valley bottom, and again a steep ascent. There was no
+slackening of gait, scarcely a hard breath. Only the gush of eager
+nostrils in the bright morning air of the mountains. Now along a
+forest-bounded stretch of level trail, winding, and full of protruding
+tree-stumps and roots. There was no stumbling. The surefooted
+thoroughbreds cleared each obstruction with mechanical precision, and
+only the spring-cart bore the burden of impact.
+
+On, up out of the darkened valley to a higher level above, where the
+high hills sloped away upwards, admitting the dazzling daylight so
+that the whole scene was lit to a perfect radiance, and the nip of
+mountain air filled the lungs with an invigorating tonic.
+
+At last the traveler dropped down into the wide valley, in the midst
+of which he first came into touch with the higher reaches of Suffering
+Creek. Here it flowed a sluggish, turgid stream, so sullen, so heavy.
+It was narrow, and at points curiously black in tone. There was none
+of the freshness, the rushing, tumultuous flow of a mountain torrent
+about it here. Its banks were marshy with a wide spread of oozy soil,
+and miry reeds grew in abundance. The trail cut well away from the bed
+of the creek, mounting the higher land where the soil, in curious
+contrast, was sandy, and the surface deep in a silvery dust. To an
+observer the curiosity of the contrast must have been striking, but
+Wild Bill was not in an observant mood. He was busy with his
+horses--and his thoughts.
+
+He was traveling now in a cloud of dust. And it was this, no doubt,
+which accounted for the fact that he did not see a buckboard drawn by
+an aged mule until he heard a shout, and his horses swung off the
+trail of their own accord. Quick as lightning he drew them up with a
+violent curse.
+
+"What in hell--!" he roared. But he broke off suddenly as the dust
+began to clear, and he saw the yellow-headed figure of Scipio seated
+in the buckboard, with Vada beside him, just abreast of him.
+
+"Mackinaw!" he cried. "What you doin' out here?"
+
+So startled was the gambler at the unexpected vision that he made no
+attempt to even guess at Scipio's purpose. He put his question without
+another thought behind it.
+
+Scipio, whose mule had jumped at the opportunity of discontinuing its
+laborious effort, and was already reaching out at the grass lining the
+trail, passed a hand across his brow before answering. It was as
+though he were trying to fix in his mind the reason of his own
+presence there.
+
+"Why," he said hesitatingly, "why, I'm out after a--a prospect I heard
+of. Want to get a peek at it."
+
+The latter was said with more assurance, and he smiled vaguely into
+his friend's face.
+
+But Bill had gathered his scattered wits, and had had time to think.
+He nodded at little Vada, who was interestedly staring at the satin
+coats of his horses.
+
+"An' you takin' her out to help you locate it?" he inquired, with a
+raising of his shaggy brows.
+
+"Not just that," Scipio responded uncomfortably. He found it curiously
+difficult to lie with Bill's steady eyes fixed on him. "Y'see--Say, am
+I near ten miles out from the camp?"
+
+"Not by three miles." Bill was watching him intently. He saw the pale
+eyes turn away and glance half fearfully along the trail. Then they
+suddenly came back, and Scipio gazed at the child beside him. He
+sighed and lifted his reins.
+
+"Guess I'll get on then," he said in the dogged tone of a man who has
+made up his mind to an unpleasant task.
+
+But Bill had no intention of letting him go yet. He sat back in his
+seat, his hand holding his reins loosely in his lap.
+
+"That wher' your prospect is?" he inquired casually.
+
+Scipio nodded. He could not bring himself to frame any further
+aggravation of the lie.
+
+"Wher' did you hear of the prospect?" Bill demanded shrewdly.
+
+"I--"
+
+But little Vada broke in. Her interest had been diverted by the word
+prospect.
+
+"Wot's 'prospect'?" she demanded.
+
+Bill laughed without any change of expression.
+
+"Prospect is wher' you _expect_ to find gold," he explained
+carefully.
+
+The child's eyes widened, and she was about to speak. Then she
+hesitated, but finally she proceeded.
+
+"That ain't wot we're goin' for," she said simply. "Poppa's goin' to
+take me wher' momma is. I'm goin' to momma, an' she's ever so far
+away. Pop told me. Jamie's goin' to stay with him, an' I'm goin' to
+stay with momma, an'--an'--I want Jamie to come too." Tears suddenly
+crowded her eyes, and slowly rolled down her sunburned cheeks.
+
+Just for a moment neither man spoke. Bill's fierce eyes were curiously
+alight, and they were sternly fixed on the averted face of the father.
+At last Scipio turned towards him; and with his first words he showed
+his relief that further lying was out of the question.
+
+"I forgot--somehow--she knew. Y'see--"
+
+But Bill, who had just bitten off a fresh chew of tobacco, gave him no
+chance to continue.
+
+"Say," he interrupted him, "ther's lies I hate, an' ther's lies that
+don't make no odds. You've lied in a way I hate. You've lied 'cos you
+had to lie, knowin' you was doin' wrong. If you hadn't know'd you was
+doin' wrong you wouldn't have needed to lie--sure. Say, you're not
+only handin' over that kiddie to her mother, you're handin' her over
+to that feller. Now, get to it an' tell me things. An'--you needn't to
+lie any."
+
+Scipio hung his head. These words coming from Wild Bill suddenly put
+an entirely different aspect upon his action. He saw something of the
+horror he was committing as Bill saw it. He was seeing through another
+man's eyes now, where before he had only seen through his own simple
+heart, torn by the emotions his Jessie's letter had inspired.
+
+He fumbled in his pocket and drew out his wife's letter. He looked at
+it, holding it a moment, his whole heart in his eyes. Then he reached
+out and passed it to the gambler.
+
+"She's got to have her," he said, with a touch of his native obstinacy
+and conviction. "She's her mother. I haven't a right to keep her.
+I--"
+
+But Bill silenced him without ceremony.
+
+"Don't yap," he cried. "How ken I read this yer muck with you throwin'
+hot air?"
+
+Scipio desisted, and sat staring vacantly at the long ears of Minky's
+mule. He was gazing on a mental picture of Jessie as he considered she
+must have looked when writing that letter. He saw her distress in her
+beautiful eyes. There were probably tears in her eyes, too, and the
+thought hurt him and made him shrink from it. He felt that her poor
+heart must have been breaking when she had written. Perhaps James had
+been cruel to her. Yes, he was sure to have been cruel to her. Such a
+blackguard as he was sure to be cruel to women-folk. No doubt she was
+longing to escape from him. She was sure to be. She would never have
+willingly gone away--
+
+"Tosh!" cried Bill. And Scipio found the letter thrust out for him to
+take back.
+
+"Eh?"
+
+"I said 'tosh!'" replied the gambler. "How'd you get that letter?"
+
+"It was flung in through the window. It was tied to a stone."
+
+"Yes?"
+
+"There was a wrappin' to it." Then Scipio's eyes began to sparkle at
+the recollection. "It was wrote on by the feller James," he went on in
+a low voice.
+
+Then suddenly he turned, and his whole manner partook of an impotent
+heat.
+
+"He'd wrote I was to hand her, Vada, over to him ten miles out on this
+trail--or there'd be trouble."
+
+Wild Bill stirred and shifted his seat with a fierce dash of
+irritation. His face was stern and his black eyes blazing. He spat out
+his chew of tobacco.
+
+"An' you was scared to death, like some silly skippin' sheep. You
+hadn't bowel enough to tell him to go to hell. You felt like handin'
+him any other old thing you'd got--'Here, go on, help yourself.'" He
+flung out his arms to illustrate his meaning. "'You got my wife;
+here's my kiddies. If you need anything else, you can sure get my
+claim. Guess my shack'll make you an elegant summer palace.' Gee!"
+
+The gambler's scorn was withering, and with each burst of it he
+flourished his arms as though handing out possessions to an imaginary
+James. And every word he spoke smote Scipio, goading him and lashing
+up the hatred which burnt deep down in his heart for the man who had
+ruined his life.
+
+But the little man's thought of Jessie was not so easily set aside,
+and he jumped to defend himself.
+
+"You don't understand--" he began. But the other cut him short with a
+storm of scathing anger.
+
+"No, I sure don't understand," he cried, "I don't. I sure don't. Guess
+I'm on'y jest a man. I ain't no sort o' bum angel, nor sanctimonious
+sky-bustin' hymn-smiter. I'm on'y a man. An' I kind o' thank them as
+is responsible that I ain't nuthin' else. Say"--his piercing eyes
+seemed to bore their way right down to the little man's heart like
+red-hot needles--"I ain't got a word to say to you but you orter be
+herdin' wi' a crowd o' mangy gophers. Tchah! A crowd o' maggots 'ud
+cut you off'n their visitin' list in a diseased carkis. Here's a
+feller robs you in the meanest way a man ken be robbed, an' you're
+yearnin' to hand him more--a low-down cur of a stage-robber, a
+cattle-thief, the lowest down bum ever created--an' you'd hand over
+this pore innercent little kiddie to him. Was there ever sech a
+white-livered sucker? Say, you're responsible fer that pore little
+gal's life, you're responsible fer her innercent soul, an' you'd hand
+her over to James, like the worstest cur in creation. Say, I ain't got
+words to tell you what you are. You're a white-livered bum that even
+hell won't give room to. You're--"
+
+"Here, hold on," cried Scipio, turning, with his pale eyes mildly
+blazing. "You're wrong, all wrong. I ain't doing it because I'm scared
+of James. I don't care nothing for his threats. I'm scared of no
+man--not even you. See? My Jessie's callin' for her gal--my Jessie! Do
+you know what that means to me? No, of course you don't. You don't
+know my Jessie. You ain't never loved a wife like my Jessie. You ain't
+never felt what a kiddie is to its mother. You can't see as I can see.
+This little gal," he went on, tenderly laying an arm about Vada's
+small shoulders, "will, maybe, save my pore Jessie. That pore gal has
+hit the wrong trail, an'--an' I'd sacrifice everything in the world to
+save her. I'd--I'd sell my own soul. I'd give it to--save her."
+
+Scipio looked fearlessly into the gambler's eyes. His pale cheeks were
+lit by a hectic flush of intense feeling. There was a light in his
+eyes of such honesty and devotion that the other lowered his. He could
+not look upon it unmoved.
+
+Bill sat back, for once in his life disconcerted. All his righteous
+indignation was gone out of him. He was confronted with a spectacle
+such as, in his checkered career, he had never before been brought
+into contact with. It was the meeting of two strangely dissimilar, yet
+perfectly human, forces. Each was fighting for what he knew to be
+right. Each was speaking from the bottom of a heart inspired by his
+sense of human right and loyalty. While the gambler, without subtlety
+of emotion, saw only with a sense of human justice, with a hatred of
+the man who had so wronged this one, with a desire to thwart him at
+every turn, the other possessed a breadth of feeling sufficient to put
+out of his thoughts all recollection of his personal wrong, if only he
+could help the woman he loved.
+
+It was a meeting of forces widely different, yet each in its way
+thrilling with a wonderful honesty of purpose. And, curiously enough,
+the purpose of Scipio, who lacked so much of the other's intellect and
+force, became, in a measure, the dominating factor. It took hold of
+the gambler, and stirred him as he had never been stirred before.
+
+Suddenly Wild Bill leaned forward. Once more those swift, relentless
+eyes focused and compelled the others.
+
+"Zip," he said in a tone that was strangely thrilling, "maybe I didn't
+get all you felt--all you got in that tow-head of yours. That bein'
+so, guess I owe you amends. But I'm goin' to ast you to sure fergit
+that gal's letter--fer awhiles. I'm goin' to ast you to turn that
+bussock-headed mule you're drivin' right around, and hit back for the
+Creek. You do this, Zip, an' I'll tell you what I'm goin' to do. I
+ain't no sentimental slob. I ain't got the makin's in me of even a
+store-mussed angel. See? But if you do this I swar to you right here
+I'm goin' to see your Jessie right. I swar to you I'll rid her of this
+'Lord' James, an' it'll jest be up to you to do the rest. Git me?"
+
+Scipio took a breath that was something like a gasp.
+
+"You'll--you'll help me get her back?" he breathed, with a glow of
+hope which almost shocked his companion.
+
+"I'm not promisin' that," said Bill quickly. "That's sure up to you.
+But I give it you right here, I'll--shift this doggone skunk out of
+your way."
+
+Scipio made no verbal reply. Just for a moment he looked into the
+gimlet eyes of the other. He saw the iron purpose there. He saw the
+stern, unyielding compression of the lean, muscular jaws. There was
+something tremendous in the suggestion of power lying behind this
+ruffian's exterior. He turned away and gathered up the old mule's
+reins.
+
+"You've allus been friendly to me, Bill, so--"
+
+He pulled off the trail and turned the mule's head in the direction of
+home. And the rest of the gambler's journey was done in the wake of
+Minky's buckboard.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+A FINANCIAL TRANSACTION
+
+
+Scipio was washing clothes down at the creek. So much had happened to
+him that day, so many and various had been the emotions through which
+he had passed, that there was only one thing left him to do. He must
+work. He dared not sit down and think. Hard physical labor was what he
+required. And the rubbing out of the children's small clothes, and his
+own somewhat tattered garments, became a sort of soothing drug which
+quieted his troubled mind, and lulled his nerves into a temporary
+quiescence. The children were with him, playing unconcernedly upon the
+muddy banks of the creek, with all the usual childish zest for
+anything so deliciously enticing and soft as liquid river mud.
+
+Vada had forgotten her journey of that morning, it had quite
+passed out of her little head in the usual way of such trifling
+unpleasantnesses which go so frequently to make up the tally of
+childhood's days. Jamie had no understanding of it. His Vada was with
+him again, hectoring, guiding him as was her wont, and, in his babyish
+way, he was satisfied.
+
+As for Scipio he gave no sign of anything. He was concentrating all
+his mental energies on the work in hand, thus endeavoring to shut out
+memory which possessed nothing but pain for him. Every now and then a
+quick, sidelong glance in the children's direction kept him informed
+of their doings and safety, otherwise his eyes were rarely raised from
+the iron bath, filled to the brim with its frothing suds.
+
+Striding down the slope from the hut where he had come in search of
+Scipio, this was the picture Wild Bill discovered. The little
+yellow-headed man was standing in the midst of a small clearing in the
+bushes, a clearing long since made for the purposes of his wife's
+weekly wash. His back was turned, and his small figure was bowed over
+the tub in front of him. Every bush around him was decorated with
+clothes laid out on their leafy surfaces, where the sun could best
+operate its hygienic drying process. He saw the bobbing heads of the
+mudlarking children a few yards away where the low cut-bank hid their
+small bodies from view. And somehow an unusual pity stirred his hard,
+world-worn heart.
+
+And yet no one could have called him a sentimental man. At least, no
+one who knew his method of life. How would it be possible to gild a
+man with humane leanings who would sit in to a game at poker, and, if
+chance came his way, take from any opponent his last cent of money,
+even if he knew that a wife and children could be reduced to
+starvation thereby? How could a kindliness of purpose be read into the
+acts of a man who would have no scruple in taking life, under
+provocation, without the least mercy or qualm of conscience? He
+displayed no tenderness, he hated what he considered such weakness. It
+was his studied practice to avoid showing consideration for others,
+and he would have bitterly resented those who considered him. He
+preferred that his attitude towards the world should be one of
+unyielding selfishness. Such was the game of life as he understood
+it.
+
+Yes, honestly enough, he hated sentiment, and for this very reason he
+cursed himself bitterly that such a feeling as he now experienced
+should so disturb him. He hurried down the slope a shade quicker than
+there was any necessity for. And it was as though he were endeavoring
+to outstrip the feelings which pursued him.
+
+Scipio heard him coming, and glanced round quickly. When he beheld his
+visitor he nodded a greeting and continued his work. In his heart was
+a curious feeling towards the gambler. He could not have described it.
+It was too complicated. He liked Wild Bill. He felt that for some
+indefinite reason he was his friend. Yet he resented him, too. He did
+not know he resented him. Only he felt that this man dominated him,
+and he was forced to obey him against his will. At sight of him his
+mind went back to the events of that morning. He thought of Bill's
+promise, and a curious excitement stirred within him. He wondered now
+what this visit portended.
+
+For once the gambler did not display his usual readiness. He did not
+speak for some moments, but took up a position whence he could see the
+children at their play, and best watch the little washerman, on whom
+he intended to thrust a proposition that had been revolving in his
+mind some time. He chewed his tobacco steadily, while his expression
+went through many changes. At last he drew his shaggy brows together
+and eyed his victim with shrewd suspicion.
+
+"Say, you're kind o' smart, ain't you?" he demanded harshly.
+
+The other looked up with a start, and his mildly inquiring glance
+should have convinced the most skeptical to the contrary. But
+apparently it had no such effect on his visitor.
+
+"I'd never ha' tho't it," Bill went on coldly. "To look at you one 'ud
+sure think you was that simple a babby could fool you. Howsum," he
+sighed, "I don't guess you ken never rightly tell."
+
+A flush began to warm Scipio's cheeks. He couldn't understand. He
+wondered hard, vainly endeavoring to grasp wherein he had offended.
+
+"I--I don't get you," he said, in a bewildered fashion, dropping the
+garment he was washing back into the soapsuds.
+
+Bill's expression underwent another change as he caught at the words.
+
+"You don't get me?" he said ironically. "You don't get me?" Then he
+shrugged as though he was not angry, but merely deplored the other's
+unsuspected cunning. "You can't strike it rich an' guess you're goin'
+to blind folks. I'd say it needs every sort of a man to do that around
+these parts."
+
+Scipio gasped. He had no other feeling than blank astonishment.
+
+"I ain't struck it rich," he protested.
+
+And his denial was received with a forced peal of laughter.
+
+"Say, you're a heap shrewd," cried Bill, when his laugh had subsided.
+"I'd say you're jest about slick. Gee! Wal, I can't blame you any fer
+holdin' your face shut. Ther's a mint o' dollars ken drop out of a
+feller's mouth through an unnatteral openin'. Ef you'd got busy
+gassin', it's a million dollar bet all the folks around this lay-out
+'ud be chasin' you clear to death. Say, it's right, though? There's
+chunks of it stickin' right out, fine, yaller, dandy gold. An' the
+quartz bank cuttin' down wider an' wider?"
+
+But Scipio shook his head. His bewilderment had gone, and in place of
+it was sad conviction.
+
+"Not yet," he said. "Not yet. I ain't seen it, anyway. I sure think
+there's gold in plenty on that claim. I know there is," he added, with
+unusual force, his pulses beginning to quicken, and a sudden hope
+stirring. Bill's accusation was aiding the effect. "But it ain't on
+the surface. It sure ain't."
+
+He stood wondering, all his washing forgotten in this newly raised
+hope so subtly stirred by the gambler. Had someone else discovered
+what he had missed for so long? He hadn't been near his claim for some
+days. Had someone--?
+
+"Who says about the gold?" he demanded, with sudden inspiration.
+
+"The folks."
+
+The gambler passed the point without committing himself.
+
+Scipio shook his head, puzzling. Something must surely have
+transpired, and yet--
+
+"You got me beat, Bill. You have, sure." The smile that accompanied
+his words was good to see. But somehow the gambler found the far
+horizon of more interest just then.
+
+"You're a wide one all right," he said thoughtfully. "There's no
+gettin' upsides with you. Give me them quiet, simple sort o' fellers
+every time. They got the gas machine beat so far you couldn't locate
+him with a forty-foot microscope. Gee!" He chuckled, and turned again
+to contemplate his companion, much as he would a newly discovered
+wonder of the world.
+
+But poor Scipio was really becoming distressed. He hoped, merely
+because the other forced him to hope, by his own evident sincerity.
+But the charge of shrewdness, of conspiring to keep a secret he had
+never possessed, worried him.
+
+"I take my oath I don't know a thing, Bill," he declared earnestly. "I
+sure don't. You've got to believe me, because I can't say more. I seen
+my claim days back, an' I hadn't a color. I ain't seen it since.
+That's fact."
+
+It was strange to see how readily the disbelief died out of the
+other's face. It was almost magical. It was as though his previous
+expression had been nothing but acting and his fresh attitude the
+result of studied preparation.
+
+"Well, Zip," he said seriously, almost dejectedly, "if you put it that
+way, I sure got to b'lieve you. But it's queer. It sure is. There's
+folks ready to swear ther's rich gold on your claim, an' I'll tell you
+right here I come along to git in on it. Y'see, I'm a bizness man, an'
+I don't figger to git a crop o' weeds growin' around my feet. I sez to
+myself, I sez, directly I heerd tell, 'Here's Zip with an elegant
+patch o' pay dirt, an' here am I with a wad of bills handy, which I'd
+sure like to turn over some.' Then I sez--I want you to understand
+jest how I thought--I sez,'Mebbe I've kind o' bin useful to Zip.
+Helped him out some, when he was fixed awkward.' You see, it ain't my
+way to do things for nothing. An' I do allow I bin useful to you.
+Well, I thought o' these things, so I come along right smart to get in
+on the plum. Sez I, 'Zip, bein' under obligation to me some, mebbe
+he'll let me buy ha'f share in his claim,' me handin' him a thousand
+dollars. It 'ud be a spot cash deal, an' me puttin' in a feller to
+work--an' see things right fer me--why, I guess there'd be no chance
+o' you gettin' gay--an' fakin' the output. See? I don't guess you're
+on the crook, but in bizness a feller don't take chances. Y'see I'm
+pretty bright when it gits to bizness, an', anyway, I don't stand fer
+no play o' that kind. Get me?"
+
+The gambler's manner was wholly severe as he explained his proposition,
+and impressed his views of business. Scipio listened without the
+slightest umbrage. He saw nothing wrong, nothing unfriendly in the
+precautions the other had intended to take. As a matter of fact, the
+one thing that concerned him was the disappointment he must cause him.
+
+"There's nothing like straight talk, Bill," he said, cordially. "I
+allus like straight talk. You kind of know just where you are then.
+There's not a doubt you've been real good to me," he went on, with
+evident feeling, "and I'll never be able to forget it--never. I tell
+you right here, if there was anything in the world I could do in
+return, I'd do it."
+
+He smiled quaintly and pushed his stubby fingers through his sparse
+hair in his most helpless manner.
+
+"If there was gold on my claim, I'd let you in all you need, and I
+wouldn't want your dollars. Dollars? No, Bill, I don't want dollars
+for doing anything for you. I sure don't. I mean that. Maybe you'll
+understand, y'see I'm not a business man--never was."
+
+The gambler averted his eyes. He could not look into the other's face
+so shining with honesty and gratitude.
+
+"But there ain't no gold found on that claim yet," Scipio went on.
+"Leastways, not that I know of, so what's the use deceivin' you? An'
+dollars, why, there's no question of 'em between us. You can stand in
+ha'f my claim, Bill, an' welcome, but you ain't going to pay me
+dollars for gold that ain't been found. Yes, you're sure welcome to
+ha'f my claim, an' you ken set a man working for you. I'll not say but
+I'll be glad of the help. But don't make no mistake, gold ain't been
+found, as far as I know, an' there may be none there, so I'd be glad
+if you don't risk a lot of dollars in the work."
+
+The gambler felt mean as he listened to the quiet words ringing with
+such simple honesty. Time and again his beady eyes lifted to the
+steady blue ones, only to drop quickly before their fearless
+sincerity. He stirred irritably, and a hot impatience with himself
+drove him so that the moment Scipio finished speaking he broke out at
+once.
+
+"Here," he cried, without the least gentleness, "you're talkin' a heap
+o' foolishness. I'm a bizness man offerin' a bizness proposition. I
+don't want nuthin' given. I'm out to make a deal. You say there's no
+gold there. Wal, I say there sure is. That bein' so I'd be a low down
+skunk takin' ha'f your claim fer nix, jest because you guess you owe
+me things--which I 'low you sure do, speakin' plain. I got a thousand
+dollars right here,"--he pulled out a packet of bills from his hip
+pocket, and held them up for the other's inspection--"an' them dollars
+says ther's gold on your claim. An' I'm yearnin' to touch ha'f that
+gold. But I'm takin' no chances. I want it all wrote down reg'lar so
+folks can't say I sneaked around you, an' got it for nix. Gee, I'd
+look mighty small if you turned around on me afterwards. No, sir, you
+don't get me that way. I'm only soft around my teeth. If you're the
+man I take you for, if you're honest as you're guessin', if you feel
+you want to pay me fer anything I done for you, why, cut the gas an'
+take my dollars' an' I'll get the papers made out by a Spawn City
+lawyer. They're all that crooked they couldn't walk a chalk-line, but
+I guess they know how to bind a feller good an' tight, an' I'll see
+they bind you up so ther' won't be no room for fool tricks. That's
+bizness."
+
+Scipio shook his head. And Bill flushed angrily.
+
+"It ain't square," the little man protested. "Maybe you'll lose your
+money."
+
+"That's up to me," the gambler began fiercely. Then he checked
+himself, and suddenly became quite grieved. "Wal, Zip, I wouldn't ha'
+b'lieved it. I sure wouldn't. But ther'--life's jest self. It's all
+self. You're like all the rest. I've been chasin' a patch o' good pay
+dirt ever since I bin around Sufferin' Creek, an' it's only now I've
+found one to suit me. I sure thought you'd let me in on it. I sure
+did. Howsum, you won't. You want it all yourself. Wall, go ahead. An'
+you needn't worry about what I told you this morning. My word goes
+every time. This ain't going to make no difference. I'm not goin' to
+squeal on that jest because you won't 'blige me."
+
+He made as though to return his dollars to his pocket. He had turned
+away, but his shrewd eyes held his companion in their focus. He saw
+the flush of shame on Scipio's face. He saw him open his mouth to
+speak. Then he saw it shut as he left his tub and came towards him.
+Bill waited, his cunning telling him to keep up his pretense. Scipio
+did not pause till he laid a hand on his arm, and his mild eyes were
+looking up into his keen, hard face.
+
+"Bill," he said, "you can have ha'f my claim and--and I'll take your
+dollars. I jest didn't guess I was bein' selfish about it--I didn't,
+truth. I was thinkin' o' you. I was thinkin' you might lose your
+bills. Y'see, I haven't had the best of luck--I--"
+
+But the gambler's face was a study as he pushed his hand off and
+turned on him. There was a fine struggle going on in his manner
+between the harshness he wished to display and the glad triumph he
+really felt.
+
+"Don't slob," he cried. "Here's the bills. Stuff 'em right down in
+your dip. Ha'f that claim is mine, an' I'll have the papers wrote
+reg'lar. I didn't think you was mean, an' I'm glad you ain't."
+
+Scipio took the money reluctantly enough, and pushed it into his
+pocket with a sigh. But Bill had had enough of the matter. He turned
+to go, moving hastily. Then, of a sudden, he remembered. Thrusting his
+hand into a side pocket of his jacket he produced a paper parcel.
+
+"Say, Zip, I come nigh forgettin'," he cried cheerfully. "The
+hash-slinger down at Minky's ast me to hand you this. It's for the
+kiddies. It's candy. I'd say she's sweet on your kiddies. She said I
+wasn't to let you know she'd sent 'em. So you ken jest kep your face
+closed. So long."
+
+He hurried away like a man ashamed. Scipio had such a way of looking
+into his eyes. But once out of sight he slackened his pace. And
+presently a smile crept into his small eyes, that set them twinkling.
+
+"Guess I'm every kind of a fule," he muttered. "A thousand dollars!
+Gee! An' ther' ain't gold within a mile of the doggone claim--'cep'
+when Zip's ther'," he added thoughtfully.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+HOW THE TRUST BOUGHT MEDICINE
+
+
+Wild Bill ate his supper that evening because it was his custom to do
+so. He had no inclination for it, and it gave him no enjoyment. He
+treated the matter much as he would have treated the stoking of a
+stove on a winter's night. So long as he was filled up he cared little
+for the class of the fuel.
+
+Birdie waited on him with an attention and care such as she never
+bestowed upon any other boarder at the store, and the look in her
+bright eyes as she forestalled his wishes, compared with the air with
+which she executed the harshly delivered orders of the rest of the
+men, was quite sufficient to enlighten the casual onlooker as to the
+state of her romantic heart. But her blandishments were quite lost
+upon our hero. He treated her with much the same sort of indifference
+he might have displayed towards one of the camp dogs.
+
+To-night, particularly, nothing she could do or say seemed to give him
+the least satisfaction. He ignored her as he ignored all the rest of
+the boarders, and devoured his meal in absolute silence--in so far as
+any speech went--wrapt in an impenetrable moroseness which had a
+damping effect upon the entire company.
+
+Truth to tell, he was obsessed with his thoughts and feelings against
+the man James. With every passing day his resentment against him piled
+up, till now he could think of nothing much else but a possible way to
+dislodge him from the pinnacle of his local notoriety, and so rid the
+district of the threat of his presence.
+
+How much of this feeling was purely personal, inspired by the natural
+antagonism of a strong, even violent, nature against a man whose very
+existence was an everlasting challenge to him, and how far it was the
+result of an unadmitted sympathy for Scipio, it would have been
+impossible to tell in a man like Wild Bill. Reason was not in such
+things with him. He never sought reasons where his feelings were
+concerned. James must go. And so his whole mind and force was given up
+to a search for adequate means to accomplish his purpose.
+
+The problem was not easy. And when things were not easy to him, Bill's
+temper invariably suffered. Besides, scheming was never pleasant to
+him. He was so essentially a man of action. An open battle appealed to
+him as nothing else in the world appealed to him. Force of arms--that
+was his conception of the settlement of human differences.
+
+He admitted to himself that the events of the day had stirred his
+"bile." He felt that he must hit out to ease himself, and the one
+direction to hit out in which would have given him any satisfaction
+was not yet available. So he brooded on, a smoldering volcano which
+his acquaintances avoided with a care inspired by past experience.
+
+But his mood was bound to find an outlet somehow. It is always so. If
+the opportunity does not come naturally, ill-temper will make one. It
+was this way with the gambler. A devilish impulse caught him just as
+supper was nearing its finish.
+
+The thought occurred with the entrance of Sandy Joyce, who took the
+empty place at the table on Bill's right. Birdie was hovering near,
+and, as Sandy took his seat, she suddenly dumped a fresh cup of coffee
+before the gambler. She giggled coyly as the cup clattered on the bare
+table.
+
+"I ain't set sugar in it, Bill," she said sweetly, and reached towards
+the sugar-bowl.
+
+But the man pushed her arm roughly aside.
+
+"Oh, skip!" he cried. "You make me sick."
+
+His bearishness in no way disconcerted the girl. She persisted, and
+dropped two spoonfuls of granulated sugar into his cup.
+
+"Some folks need sugar," she remarked, with another giggle, as she
+moved away. And somehow it was Bill who had suffered loss of dignity.
+
+This only helped to aggravate his mood, and he turned his small eyes
+sharply on Sandy.
+
+"I'm needin' someone to work a claim fer me," he said in a voice
+intended to reach every ear, and as he spoke a curious look came into
+his eyes. It was half a grin, half a challenge, and wholly meant
+mischief.
+
+The effect was exactly as he had calculated. The entire attention of
+the room was on him at once, and he warmed as he waited for Sandy's
+reply.
+
+"You--you got a claim?" the widower inquired blankly.
+
+Bill licked his lips after devouring a mouthful of pie.
+
+"An' why in hell not?" he retorted.
+
+Before Sandy could gather an adequate reply, the matter was taken up
+by a young miner further down the table.
+
+"Wher' you got it, Bill?" he inquired, with genuine interest.
+
+The gambler swallowed another mouthful of pie, and rammed the rim of
+crust into his cheek with his thumb, and leisurely devoured it before
+replying.
+
+"I don't see that my claim has anything to do wi' the company
+present," he said at last, with a dangerous look in his half-grinning
+eyes. "But, seein' Mr. Joe Brand is kind o' curious, guess he may as
+well know first as last."
+
+"I didn't mean no offense, Bill," apologized the miner, flushing and
+speaking hurriedly.
+
+Bill promptly became sarcastic.
+
+"Course you didn't. Folks buttin' in never don't mean no offense.
+Howsum, guess my claim's on the banks o' Sufferin' Creek. Maybe you
+feel better now?" He glared down the table, but finally turned again
+to Sandy. "You ain't pertickler busy 'bout now, so--ther's thirty
+dollars a week says you ken hev the job. An' I'll give you a
+percentage o' the gold you wash up," he added dryly. "You on?"
+
+Sandy nodded. He didn't quite understand his friend's game. This was
+the first he had heard of Bill having acquired a claim--and on the
+river, too. There was only one other man on the river, and--well,
+Zip's claim was the joke of the camp.
+
+He had just formulated a question in his mind, when the words were
+taken out of his mouth by a heavy-faced prospector further down the
+table.
+
+"Wher' 'bouts on the Creek, Bill?" he inquired.
+
+The gambler eyed him intently.
+
+"Quite a piece up," he said shortly.
+
+A half-smile spread over the prospector's face.
+
+"Not nigh--Zip's?" he suggested.
+
+The half-grin in Bill's eyes was becoming more savage.
+
+"Yep--an' I bought it."
+
+His information increased the interest with a bound. Every man there
+knew, or believed, that Zip's claim was the only one on the Creek.
+
+"I didn't know there was any other but Zip's," said Joe Brand, his
+interest outrunning his discretion.
+
+"Ah, you buttin' in again," sneered Bill. "Guess you know right, too.
+Ther' ain't."
+
+It was curious to glance down at the double row of faces lining the
+table and note the perplexity which suddenly gathered on them. Bill
+saw it and enjoyed it. It suited his mood. Finally the heavy-faced
+prospector blurted out the question that was in everybody's mind, yet
+which the others dared not ask.
+
+"You--you bought Zip's claim?" he asked incredulously.
+
+"Ha'f of it. Me an' Zip's partners. You got anything to say?"
+
+Bill's words rapped out with biting force, and Sandy, knowing the man,
+waited, solemn-eyed. Just for one moment astonishment held his
+audience breathless. Then some one sniggered, and it became the cue
+for an instantaneous and general guffaw of derision. Every face was
+wreathed in a broad grin. The humor of this thing was too much. Zip's
+claim! Bill, the keen, unscrupulous gambler, had fallen for Zip's
+mud-hole on the banks of Suffering Creek!
+
+Bill waited. The laugh was what he needed, so he waited till it died
+out. As it did so he kicked back his chair and stood up, his tall
+figure and hard face a picture of cold challenge.
+
+"You're that merry, folks," he said, his teeth clipping each word,
+"that maybe some o' you got something to say. I'd like to hear it.
+No?" as he waited. But no one seemed anxious to comment. "Joe Brand
+kind o' seems fond o' buttin' in--mebbe he'll oblige."
+
+But the young miner was not to be drawn. Bill shrugged his lean
+shoulders, his fierce eyes alight with a dangerous fire.
+
+"Wal," he went on, "I don't guess I ken make folks talk if they don't
+notion it. But I want to say right here I bought ha'f o' Zip's claim
+fer good dollars, an' I'm goin' to pay Sandy Joyce a tiptop wage fer
+workin' my share. An'"--he paused and glanced swiftly and defiantly at
+the faces which were no longer smiling--"an' I want to say I bought
+the richest lay-out in this bum camp. Any feller who ain't o' the same
+opinion ken git right up on to his hind legs an' call me a 'liar'--an'
+I'm jest yearnin' fer some feller to git around an' call me that. Jest
+turn it over in your fool heads. You don't need to hurry any. Ther's
+days an' days to come, an' at any time I'll be glad fer all o' you to
+come along an' tell me I'm--a liar."
+
+He paused, his fierce eyes gleaming. He felt good. His outburst had
+relieved his pent feelings. It was a safety-valve which had worked
+satisfactorily at the right moment. But as he received no answer to
+his challenge he turned to Sandy.
+
+"Ther' don't seem to be nuthin' doin'," he said, with a grim smile.
+"So ef you'll come right along we'll fix things out in the store.
+Guess you ken finish your hash after."
+
+Sandy rose. For a moment Bill did not attempt to move. It was as
+though he were giving the rest of the boarders one last chance of
+accepting his challenge. But as no one offered any comment or made any
+attempt to stay him, he turned away at last with a sigh which was
+probably of disappointment, and led the way out into the store.
+
+But if the men had made no comment in his presence, it was a different
+matter after his departure. Loud indignation broke out, and fierce, if
+impotent, protest passed from lip to lip. It was only for a few
+moments, however, and presently anger gave place to a realization of
+the absurdity of the whole thing.
+
+The humor of these men was tickled. The whole thing was too ludicrous
+for words. To think that Wild Bill, the renowned sharp, the shrewdest,
+the wisest man on Suffering Creek, had fallen for such a proposition!
+It was certainly the funniest, the best joke that had ever come their
+way. How had it happened? they asked each other. Had Zip been clever
+enough to "salt" his claim? It was hardly likely. Only they knew he
+was hard up, and it was just possible, with his responsibilities
+weighing heavily on him, he had resorted to an illicit practice to
+realize on his property. They thought of and discussed every possible
+means they could think of by which Bill could have been lured to the
+hook--and caught--and landed. That was the joke. It was astounding. It
+was too good. To-morrow the whole camp would be ringing with laughter
+at the news, but--but the laughter was not likely to reach the
+gambler's ears.
+
+In the meantime it was quite a different man who was lounging over
+Minky's counter talking to Sandy and the storekeeper. Bill had
+relieved the pressure of his mood for the moment, and now, like a
+momentarily exhausted volcano, he was enjoying the calm of reaction.
+
+"I'll need you to start work right away," he was saying, "an' you ken
+draw on me fer all the supplies you need. It's a dandy claim," he went
+on grimly, "but I don't know fer sure what you'll likely find on it.
+Maybe you'll find suthin'--if you work long enough. Anyways, you'll
+start by sinkin' a shaft; an' you'll kep on sinkin' it till--till I
+tell you to quit."
+
+"But that ain't the regular way gold--"
+
+"Say, whose claim is it? Am I payin' you or not?" demanded the gambler
+sharply.
+
+"Sure you are, but you said it was the richest--"
+
+"That was back ther' at supper," said Bill coldly. "Guess supper's
+over."
+
+Sandy had no quickness of understanding. He did not appreciate the
+fineness of the distinction. He shook his head solemnly.
+
+"Maybe I ain't jest bright enuff to foller--"
+
+"You ain't," agreed Bill shortly.
+
+He winked at Minky, who was listening interestedly. Then he turned
+abruptly and pointed at the array of patent medicines adorning one of
+the shelves.
+
+"Say," he cried, "'bout them physics."
+
+Minky turned and gazed affectionately at the shelf. It was the pride
+of his store. He always kept it well dusted and dressed. The delicate
+wrappings and fancy labels always had a strong fascination for him.
+Then there were the curative possibilities of the contents of the
+inviting packages as set forth by the insistent "drummer" who sold
+them to him.
+
+"An elegant stock," he murmured. "Sort of concentrated health." Then
+he glanced round anxiously. "Your hosses ain't ailin'?" he inquired.
+"I got most everything fer hosses. Ther's embrocation, hoss iles,
+every sort of lin'ments. Hoss balls? Linseed?"
+
+The gambler shook his head.
+
+"You ain't got physic fer men-folk?" he inquired.
+
+"I sure have. But--but you ain't sick?" Minky eyed his friend
+narrowly.
+
+Bill's mouth twisted wryly.
+
+"I ain't jest sick," he replied. "But," he added hopefully, "you can't
+never be sure."
+
+Minky nodded.
+
+"That's so. I'd say you don't look a heap sick, though."
+
+"You sure don't," agreed Sandy. "But, as you sez, you can't never
+tell. Now, you buyin' ha'f Zip's claim makes--" His words died down to
+a thoughtful murmur. Bill's look was somehow discouraging as he
+pointed at the medicine.
+
+"What you got?" he demanded abruptly.
+
+"Why, most everything," said Minky. "Ther', you see that longish
+bottle? That's a dandy cough cure. Guess you ain't needin' that? No?
+Ah!" as Bill shook his head, "I didn't guess you'd a cough. Corns?
+Now, this yer packet is an elegant fixin' fer corns, soft an' hard. It
+jest kills 'em stone dead, sure. It's bully stuff, but 'tain't good
+fer eatin'. You ain't got corns?" he inquired, as Bill again shook his
+head. "Ah, seems a pity." He turned again to the shelf, determined, if
+possible, to suit his customer, and lifted down a number of packets
+and sealed bottles. "Now, here," he cried, holding up a dainty box
+tied up with a delicate-colored ribbon. For a moment his audience
+believed it to be candy, but he quickly undeceived them. "Now this
+yer is dandy truck, though I don't guess ther's a heap o' use fer it
+on Suffering Creek. It's fer softening alkali water. When the drummer
+told me that, I guessed to him ther wa'an't a heap o' water drunk in
+this camp. But he said it wa'an't fer drinkin' water; it was fer
+baths. I kind o' told him that wouldn't help the sale any, so he said
+it could be used fer washin'. Seein' he couldn't sell me any that way
+neither, he got riled an' give me a present of it, an' said he guessed
+Sufferin' Creek _did_ use water fer washing gold. Y'see, its price is
+a dollar an' a ha'f, but, seein' it's kind o' dead stock, you ken have
+it a present."
+
+Bill took it.
+
+"It's mine," he said. And Sandy watched him with some concern.
+
+"You--you ain't takin' a bath?" he inquired nervously.
+
+"Don't talk foolish," cried Bill, and turned again to his scrutiny of
+the shelf. "What else you got? Any stummick physic?"
+
+"Sure." Minky held up a small bottle of tabloids. "Camel-hell," he
+said, with the assurance of a man who knows the worth of the article
+he is offering for sale. "Now this yer is Camel-hell--C-a-l-o-m-e-l.
+And I'd sure say the name is appropriate. That doggone 'drummer'
+feller said ther' was enough in one o' them bottles to kep the
+stummicks of a whole blamed menagerie right fer six months. It's real
+dandy--"
+
+He broke off suddenly, and his look of enthusiasm was abruptly
+replaced by one of anxious interest that bordered closely on
+apprehension. His audience realized the change, and both men glanced
+swiftly in the direction whence the storekeeper's gaze had become so
+suddenly concentrated. Instantly they became aware that two strangers
+had quietly entered the store, and had taken their places at one of
+the tables under the open window.
+
+Bill thought he recognized one of the men, but was not sure where he
+had seen him. Sandy saw nothing remarkable in their presence, and at
+once turned back to the counter.
+
+"More of 'em," said Minky in a low tone, when finally Bill turned back
+to him.
+
+"Yes. Many while I bin away?"
+
+"Four or five. All--come along fer a game--it seems." Minky's eyes
+were brooding.
+
+Suddenly a light of intelligence sprang into Bill's thoughtful face.
+
+"Ah, I remember one o' them. I see him in Spawn City--in a bum
+gamblin' dive."
+
+Sandy suddenly roused to a keen interest.
+
+"Them strangers," he said--"that 'minds me I was talkin' to one last
+night. He was askin' me when a stage was running from here."
+
+"What d'you tell him?" demanded Bill quickly, and Minky's eyes asked
+the question too.
+
+Sandy laughed conceitedly.
+
+"I sure said ther' wa'an't no stages runnin', with James' gang
+around. I wa'an't goin' to give nuthin' away to strangers. Y'see,
+if I'd pretended we was sendin' out stages, we'd have that gang
+hangin' around waitin'. 'Tain't no use in gatherin' wasps around a
+m'lasses-pot."
+
+"No. You didn't tell him nuthin' else?" Bill inquired, eyeing him
+shrewdly.
+
+"I did that," said Sandy triumphantly. "I filled him up good. I jest
+told him we was wise to James an' his gang, an' was takin' no chances,
+seein' Sufferin' Creek was such a rich lay-out. I told him we was
+bankin' up the gold right here, an' holdin' it till the pile was so
+big we could claim a Gover'ment escort that could snap their fingers
+at James an' his lay-out."
+
+A swift exchange of glances passed between the gambler and the
+storekeeper. And then, in a quiet voice, Bill demanded--
+
+"Anything else?"
+
+"Nothing o' consequence," replied Sandy, feeling he had acquitted
+himself well. "He jest asted if Minky here banked the stuff, an' I
+'lowed he did."
+
+"Ah!" There was an ominous sparkle in Bill's eyes as he breathed his
+ejaculation. Then, with a quiet sarcasm quite lost on the obtuse
+widower, "You'd make an elegant sheriff's officer. You'd raise hell
+with the crooks."
+
+Sandy appeared pleased with what he took for praise.
+
+"I'd show 'em some--"
+
+But Bill had turned to the storekeeper.
+
+"We've got to git doin'. I've heerd a heap in Spawn City. Anyway, it
+was bound to git around. What he's said don't matter a heap. What I've
+heerd tells me we've got to git busy quick. We've got to clean you out
+of--stuff, or ther's goin' to be a most outrageous unhealthy time on
+Sufferin' Creek. We'll fix things to-morrer. Bein' Sunday," he added
+grimly, "it'll be an elegant day fer settin' things right. Meanwhiles,
+I'll ast you to fix me a parcel o' them physics, jest some of each,
+an' you ken git Sunny Oak to pass 'em right on to Zip fer his kids.
+Guess they'll worry out how best to dose 'em right."
+
+Minky nodded, but his eyes were gloomily watching the two strangers
+sitting under the window. Sandy, however, suddenly brightened into a
+wide smile.
+
+"Sure," he cried delightedly, slapping his thigh in his exuberance.
+"That's it. Course. It's all writ in the reg'lations fer raisin' them
+kids. Gee! you had me beat clear to death. Physic ev'ry Saturday
+night. Blamed if this ain't Saturday--an' t'-morrer's Sunday. An' I
+tho't you was sufferin' and needed physic. Say--"
+
+But Bill, too, was watching the strangers with interested eyes. He was
+paying no sort of attention to this wonderful discovery of his bright
+friend.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+SCIPIO MAKES PREPARATIONS
+
+
+Scipio's impulses were, from his own point of view, entirely
+practical. Whatever he did, he did with his whole heart. And if his
+results somehow missed coming out as he intended them, it was scarcely
+his fault. Rather was it the misfortune of being burdened with a
+superfluous energy, supported by inadequate thought.
+
+And he felt something of this as he sat in his living-room and glanced
+round him at the unaccountable disorder that maintained. It was Sunday
+morning, and all his spare time in his home on Saturday had been spent
+in cleaning and scrubbing and putting straight, and yet--and yet--He
+passed a stubby hand across his forehead, as though to brush aside the
+vision of the confusion he beheld.
+
+He knew everything was wrong, and a subconscious feeling told him that
+he had no power to put things right. It was curious, too. Every
+utensil, every stick of furniture, the floor, the stove, everything
+had been scrubbed and garnished at a great expense of labor.
+Everything had been carefully bestowed in the place which, to his
+mind, seemed most suited for its disposal. Yet now, as he gazed about
+him at the result, he knew that only a cleanly untidiness prevailed,
+and he felt disheartened.
+
+Look at the children's clean clothes, carefully folded with almost
+painful exactness; yet they were like a pile of rags just thrown
+together. And their unironed condition added to the illusion. Every
+cooking-pot and pan had been cleaned and polished, yet, to his eyes,
+the litter of them suggested one of the heaps of iron scraps out on
+the dumps. How was it every piece of china looked forlornly suggestive
+of a wanderer without a home? No, he did not know. He had done his
+very best, and yet everything seemed to need just that magic touch to
+give his home the requisite well-cared-for air.
+
+He was disappointed, and his feelings were plainly to be perceived in
+the regretful glance of his pale eyes. For some moments his optimistic
+energy rose and prompted him to begin all over again, but he denied
+himself this satisfaction as he glanced through the window at the
+morning sun. It was too high up in the sky. There was other work yet
+before him, with none too much time for its performance before the
+midday meal.
+
+Instead, he turned to the "regulations" which Sunny Oak had furnished
+him with, and, with an index finger following out the words, he read
+down the details of the work for Sunday--in so far as his twins were
+concerned.
+
+"Ah," he murmured, "I got the wash done yesterday. It says here
+Monday. That's kind of a pity." Then he brightened into hopefulness.
+"Guess I kin do those things again Monday. I sort o' fancy they could
+do with another wash 'fore the kiddies wear them. I never could wash
+clothes right, first time. Now, Sunday." His finger passed slowly from
+one detail to another. "Breakfast--yes. Bath. Ah, guess that comes
+next. Now, 'bout that bath." He glanced anxiously round him. Then he
+turned back to the regulations. "It don't say whether hot or cold," he
+muttered disappointedly.
+
+For a moment he stood perplexed. Then he began to reason the matter
+out with himself. It was summer. For grown-ups it would naturally be a
+cold bath, but he was not so sure about children. They were very
+young, and it would be so easy for them to take cold, he thought. No,
+it had best be hot. He would cook some water. This thought prompting
+him, he set the saucepan on the stove and stirred the fire.
+
+He was turning back to his regulations, when it occurred to him that
+he must now find something to bathe the children in. Glancing about
+amongst the few pots he possessed, he realized that the largest
+saucepan, or "billy," in the house would not hold more than a gallon
+of water. No, these were no use, for though he exercised all his
+ingenuity he could see no way of bathing the children in any of them.
+Once during his cogitations he was very nearly inspired. It flashed
+through his mind that he might stand each child outside of a couple of
+pots and wash them all over that way. But he quickly negatived the
+thought. That wasn't his idea of a bath. They must sit _in_ the
+water.
+
+He was about to give the matter up in despair, when, in a moment of
+inspiration, he remembered the washing-tub. Of course, that was the
+very thing. They could both sit in that together. It was down at the
+river, but he could easily fetch it up.
+
+So he turned again in relief to the regulations. What next? He found
+his place, and read the directions out slowly.
+
+"'After their bath kids needs an hour's Bible talk.'"
+
+He read it again. And then a third time, so as to make quite sure.
+Then he turned thoughtfully to the door, staring out at the bright
+sunlight beyond. He could hear the children's voices as they played
+outside, but he was not heeding them. He was delving around in a hazy
+recollection of Bible subjects, which he vaguely remembered having
+studied when a child.
+
+It was difficult--very difficult. But he was not beaten. There were
+several subjects that occurred to him in scraps. There was Noah. Then
+there was Moses. He recalled something of Solomon, and he knew that
+David slew a giant.
+
+But none of these subjects amounted to more than a dim recollection.
+Of details he knew none. Worked into a thorough muddle with his worry,
+he was almost despairing again when suddenly he remembered that Jessie
+possessed a Bible. Perhaps it was still in the bedroom. He would go
+and see. It would surely help him. So he promptly went in search of
+it, and, in a few moments, was sitting down beside the table poring
+over it and studiously preparing himself for his forthcoming tutelary
+duties.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+SUNDAY MORNING IN SUFFERING CREEK
+
+
+On the veranda of the store was the usual Sunday morning gathering of
+the citizens of Suffering Creek, an impromptu function which occurred
+as regularly as the sun rose and set. Some of the men were clad in
+their best black broadcloth, resplendent, if shiny at the seams, and
+bespotted with drink and tobacco stains. But the majority had made no
+such effort to differentiate between the seventh day of the week and
+the other six. The only concession that everyone yielded, and then
+with bad enough grace in many instances, was to add to the boredom of
+their day of rest by performing a scanty ablution in the washing
+trough at the back of the store.
+
+Minky was one of the few who clung to the customs of his up-bringing.
+He was there, ample, and gayly beaming, in "boiled" shirt, and a
+highly colored vest, which clashed effusively with his brilliantly
+variegated bow-tie, but of which he was inordinately proud.
+
+It was the custom at these meetings to discuss any matters which
+affected the well-being of the community, to listen to any item of
+interest pointing the prosperity of the local gold industry, to thresh
+out complaints. In fact, it became a sort of Local Government Board,
+of which the storekeeper was president, and such men as Wild Bill,
+Sandy Joyce and one or two of the more successful miners formed the
+governing committee.
+
+But it was yet comparatively early, and many sore heads were still
+clinging to their rough pillows. Saturday night was always a heavy
+occasion, and the Sunday morning sleep was a generally acknowledged
+necessity. However, this did not prevent discussion amongst those
+already assembled.
+
+Wild Bill was not there. Sandy Joyce was still absent, although both
+had been long since stirring. Someone sarcastically suggested that
+they had gone off to inspect the gambler's rich strike before Sandy
+got to work on it on the morrow. This drew a great laugh at Wild
+Bill's expense. And it was only the loyal Minky's voice that checked
+it.
+
+"You'se fellers are laffin'," he said, in good-humored reproval. "Wal,
+laff. I can't say I know why Bill's bo't that claim, but I'll say
+this: I'd a heap sooner foller his money than any other man's. I've
+sure got a notion we best do our laffin' right now."
+
+"That's so," agreed Joe Brand reluctantly. "Bill's a cur'us feller.
+He's so mighty cur'us I ain't got much use for him--personal. But I'll
+say right here, he's wide enough to beat most any feller at any bluff
+he's got savvee to put up. Howsum, every 'smart' falls fer things at
+times. Y'see, they get lookin' fer rich strikes that hard, an' are so
+busy keppin' other folks out o' them, it's dead easy gettin' 'em
+trippin'. Guess that tow-headed sucker, Zip, 's got him trippin' about
+now, sure."
+
+Minky shook his head. He did not believe it. If Bill had been caught
+napping, he must have willfully gone to sleep. He knew the man too
+well. However, he had no intention of arguing the matter with these
+people. So he turned away and stood staring out at the far distance
+beyond the creek.
+
+In a few moments the whole matter was dismissed from his mind, and his
+thoughts filled with a something that lately had become a sort of
+obsession to him. It was the safety of his gold-dust that troubled,
+and as each day passed his apprehensions grew. He felt that trouble
+was threatening in the air of Suffering Creek, and the thought of how
+easily he might be taken at a disadvantage worried him terribly. He
+knew that it was imperative for him to unload his gold. But how? How
+could it be done in safety, in the light of past events? It was
+suicidal to send it off to Spawn City on a stage, with the James gang
+watching the district. And the Government--?
+
+Suddenly his eyes lit excitedly. He pointed out across the creek with
+startling abruptness, in a direction where the land sloped gradually
+upwards towards the more distant foothills, in a broken carpet of pine
+woods. He was indicating a rift in the forest, where, for a long
+stretch, a wide clearing had been made by the axes of the pioneers of
+the camp.
+
+"Ho, fellers!" he cried. "Get a peek yonder. Who's that?"
+
+In an instant every eye followed the direction of his outstretched
+arm. And the men stood silently watching the progress of a horseman
+racing headlong through the clearing and making for the creek in front
+of them as fast as his horse could lay legs to the ground. So silent
+and intent did the group on the veranda become, that faint, yet
+sharply distinct, even at that distance, the thrashing of the horse's
+hoofs floated to their straining ears on the still morning air, and
+set them wondering.
+
+On came the man at a furious pace. He was leaning far over his horse's
+neck, so that the whole weight of his body was well clear of the
+saddle. And as he came the waiting men could plainly see the rise and
+fall of his arm, as he mercilessly flogged his straining beast. It was
+Joe Brand who first broke the silence.
+
+"Looks like Sid Morton," he hazarded. "I kind o' seem to mind his
+sorrel with four white legs. He's comin' from the right direction,
+too. Guess his ranch is ten miles up yonder. Say, he's makin' a hell
+of a bat."
+
+"He sure is." Jim Wright, the oldest miner in the camp, blinked his
+red-rimmed eyes as they watered with the strain of watching, "It's
+trouble that's chasin' him," he added, with conviction. "Trouble o'
+some kind."
+
+"What sort o' trouble?" Minky spoke half to himself. Just now there
+was only one idea of trouble in his mind.
+
+Somebody laughed foolishly.
+
+"There ain't many sorts o' trouble sets a man chasin' like that," said
+a voice in the background.
+
+Minky glanced round.
+
+"What are they, Van?" he inquired, and turned back again to his
+scrutiny of the on-coming horseman.
+
+"Sickness, an'--guns," replied the man addressed as Van, with another
+foolish laugh. "If it's Sid he ain't got anybody out on his ranch to
+be sick, 'cep' his two 'punchers. An' I don't guess he'd chase for
+them. Must be 'guns.'"
+
+No one answered him. Everybody was too intent on the extraordinary
+phenomenon. The man was nearing the creek. In a few seconds he would
+be hidden from view, for the opposite bank lay far below them, cut off
+from sight by the height of the rising ground intervening on the
+hither side.
+
+A moment later a distinct movement amongst the watchers, which had
+something almost of relief in it, told that this had happened. Minky
+turned to Jim Wright, who chanced to be nearest him.
+
+"It's Sid," he declared definitely.
+
+The old man nodded.
+
+"An' I guess Van's right," he agreed.
+
+"He'll be along up in a minute," said Joe Brand.
+
+Minky remained where he was watching the point at which he expected to
+see the horseman reappear. This sudden apparition had fastened itself
+upon his general apprehension and become part of it. What was the news
+the man was bringing?
+
+Some of the men moved off the veranda to meet the horseman when he
+came up, but the majority remained where they were. In spite of their
+interest, these people were rarely carried away by their feelings in a
+matter of this sort. Time would tell them all they wanted to know.
+Perhaps a good deal more than they cared to hear. So they preferred to
+wait.
+
+Their patience was quickly rewarded. In less than five minutes a
+bobbing head rose above the brow of the incline. Then came the man. He
+was still leaning forward to ease his panting horse, whose dilated
+nostrils and flattened ears told the onlookers of its desperate
+journey. The leg-weary beast floundered up the steep under quirt and
+spur--and, in a moment, stood tottering, gasping and steaming before
+the eager crowd.
+
+Sid Morton almost fell out of the saddle. And as his feet came to the
+ground he reeled. But Minky caught him, and he steadied himself.
+
+"I'm beat," the horseman cried desperately. "For mercy's sake hand me
+a horn o' whisky."
+
+He flung himself down on the edge of the veranda, leaving his jaded
+beast to anyone's care. He was too far spent to think of anything or
+anybody but himself. Falling back against the post he closed his eyes
+while the silent crowd looked on stupidly.
+
+Minky seemed to be the only one who fully grasped the situation. He
+passed the foundered horse on to his "choreman," and then himself
+procured a stiff drink of rye whisky for the exhausted man. This he
+administered without a moment's delay, and the ranchman opened his
+eyes.
+
+The next instant he sat up, and, in doing so, disclosed a large
+dark-red patch on the post he had leaned against. Minky saw the
+ominous stain.
+
+"Wounded?" he inquired sharply.
+
+"Some." Then he added, after a moment's hesitation, "Yes, guess I'm
+done."
+
+The ranchman spoke rapidly. For the moment at least his weakness
+seemed to have passed, and the weariness to have gone out of his eyes
+and voice. He strained eagerly, his eyes alight and bloodshot. The
+whisky had given him momentary courage, momentary strength; the drawn
+lines of rapidly draining life had smoothed out of his young cheeks.
+
+"Here, listen," he cried, almost fiercely. "I'm beat. I know. But--but
+I want to tell you things. You needn't to notice that hole in my
+back." He writhed painfully. "Guess they--they got my lung or--or
+somethin'. Y'see, it's the James gang. Some of 'em are"--a spasm of
+pain shot athwart his face as he hesitated--"'bout three miles back
+ther'--"
+
+At this point a terrible fit of coughing interrupted him, and blood
+trickled into the corners of his mouth. Minky understood. He
+dispatched one of the bystanders for some brandy, while he knelt down
+to the man's support. At once the drooping body sagged heavily upon
+his arm; but when the paroxysm had passed the weight lightened, and
+the dying man hurried on with his story, although his voice had lost
+more than half of its former ring.
+
+"Ther' ain't much time," he said, with something like a gasp. "He's
+run off my stock, an' set my hay an' the corrals afire. He--he got us
+when we was roundin'--roundin' up a bunch o' steers. Y'see--y'see, we
+was in--in the saddle."
+
+Again he paused. This time his breath came in gasps and deep-throated
+gurglings. He struggled on, however, stumbling and gasping with almost
+every second word.
+
+"We put up a--scrap--good. An'--an' both--my boys was--was dropped
+cold. After I--I emptied--my gun--I--I hit--the trail for here. Then
+I--got it good. Say--"
+
+Once more he was interrupted by a fit of terrible coughing. And the
+moment it eased the storekeeper held the brandy, which one of the boys
+had brought, to his blood-flecked lips. The poor fellow's end was not
+far off. The onlookers knew it. Minky knew there was practically
+nothing to be done for him. All these men had witnessed the approach
+of death in this form too often before. A lung pierced by a bullet!
+They could do nothing but look on curiously, helplessly and listen
+carefully to the story he was trying to tell.
+
+The man struggled with himself for some moments. The strong young body
+was yielding reluctantly enough to the death-grip. And at last his
+words gasped haltingly upon the still air.
+
+"Their plugs--wasn't--fresh. Mine--was. That give--me--the--legs--of
+'em. But--they--rode--hard, an'--"
+
+His voice died down to a whistling gasp and his eyes closed. He was
+sinking fast. Minky forced more brandy between his lips. And presently
+the drooping eyelids widened, and a momentary strength lifted the
+weakening body.
+
+"They follered," he mumbled, "but--I--don't--know--how--many.
+'Bout--three. Three--miles--back--I--I--lost--'em--"
+
+His eyes were glazing and staring painfully. And as his last words
+hovered on his lips they were drowned by the gurgling and rattling in
+his throat. Suddenly a shudder passed through his frame. He started,
+his eyes staring wildly.
+
+"I'm--done!" he gasped. His arms shot up convulsively, his legs flung
+out. And then all his weight dropped back on to the storekeeper's
+supporting arm. The next moment his body seemed to heave as with a
+deep, restful sigh, and his head lolled helplessly forward. He was
+dead.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+A BATH AND--
+
+
+Scipio started and looked up as a joyous greeting from the children
+outside warned him of the approach of a visitor. He was rather glad of
+the interruption, too. He found the Bible offered him such an enormous
+field of research. It was worse than enormous; it was overwhelming.
+The Bible was really more than he could study in the few minutes he
+had allowed himself. As yet he had not found even one single mention
+of the few subjects he still retained a vague recollection of.
+
+As he glanced at the doorway it was darkened by a familiar figure.
+Sunny Oak, as ragged, disreputable and unclean as usual, smiled
+himself into the room.
+
+"Howdy, Zip?" he greeted genially. "Guessed I'd git around, seem' it
+was Sunday. Y'see, folks don't work any Sunday. I'd sure say it's a
+real blessin' folks is 'lowed to rest one day in seven. Talkin' o'
+work, I heerd tell you've took a pardner to your claim. Wild Bill's
+smart. He ain't bluffed you any?"
+
+The loafer seated himself in the other chair with an air of utter
+weariness. He might just have finished a spell of the most arduous
+labor, instead of having merely strolled across the dumps. Scipio
+smiled faintly.
+
+"He hasn't bluffed me any," he said gently. "Seems to me he wouldn't
+bluff me. Yes, he's in on ha'f my claim. Y'see, he thinks ther's gold
+in sight, an'--an' I know ther' ain't. That's what's troubling me. I
+kind of feel mean some."
+
+Sunny yawned luxuriously.
+
+"Don't you worry any," he said easily. "Bill's mighty wide. If he's
+come in on your claim he's--needin' to bad. Say--"
+
+He broke off and turned alertly to the door. A sound of voices reached
+them, and a moment later Sandy Joyce and Toby stood grinning in the
+doorway.
+
+"Gee!" cried Sunny. "Gettin' quite a party."
+
+"I'm real pleased you folks come along," Scipio declared warmly. He
+stood up and looked round uncertainly. "Say," he went on, his pale
+face flushing a little ruefully, "come right in, boys. I don't see
+jest where you're goin' to sit. Maybe the table's good an' strong.
+This chair'll do for one."
+
+But Toby would have none of it.
+
+"Set you down, Zip," he cried. "I got this doorway. Guess the table'll
+fit Sandy. He's kind o' high in his notions. I jest see Bill comin'
+along up from the river. Looked like he was comin' this way. How's the
+kids?"
+
+"Why, bully," said Scipio amiably. "Y'see, I got 'em fixed right all
+right since Sunny wrote out those regulations for me. Those
+regulations are jest dandy, and I'm desperate obliged to him. A feller
+would need to be a bum sort of fool, anyhow, who couldn't fix kids
+right with it all set out so careful. There sure are things set down
+there I'd never have thought of--an' I'm their father, too." He paused
+and glanced nervously round at the friendly faces. Then, with evident
+anxiety, he hurried on. "I was just thinkin'," he exclaimed, "maybe
+some hot coffee wouldn't come amiss. Y'see, I ain't no rye. Guess I'll
+make that coffee right away. I got water cooking on the stove. I was
+goin' to use it for bathin' the kids, but--"
+
+His visitors exchanged swift glances, and Sunny broke in. "Don't do
+it, Zip," he said with an amiable grin. "These boys don't figger to
+unpickle their vitals with no sech truck as coffee. Say"--his eyes
+wandered to where his carefully written regulations were posted,
+"talkin' o' baths, have you physicked the kids right?"
+
+Scipio, feeling somewhat relieved, returned to his chair and lodged
+himself upon its edge. He could not settle himself at his ease.
+Somehow he felt that these men were entirely his superior in all those
+things which count for manhood; and the kindness of such a visit
+rather overwhelmed him. Then, too, he was sincerely regretting his
+inadequate hospitality. Now he became nervously enthusiastic.
+
+"I sure did," he cried eagerly. "Those physics were real elegant. If
+you'll tell me what they cost you, Sunny, I'll square up now. How--"
+
+He pulled out some money, but the loafer waved it aside with
+ridiculous dignity.
+
+"Thievin' doctors needs pay. I ain't no bum doc. What you give
+'em--the kids?"
+
+Scipio bundled his money back into his pocket, flushing at the thought
+that he had unintentionally insulted his benefactor.
+
+"Well," he said thoughtfully, "I didn't give 'em no corn cure. Y'see,"
+he added apologetically, "I couldn't find no corns on 'em to speak of.
+But," he went on more hopefully, "I give 'em the cough cure. They
+ain't got no coughs, neither of 'em, but, seein' they was to take a
+bath, I guessed it 'ud be a kind of precaution. Then there were them
+powders. How were they called? Why--Lick--Lick--well, they were called
+Lick--something. Anyways, I give 'em one each. They didn't take 'em
+easy, an' was nigh sick, but they got 'em down after awhile. Then,
+seein' they got bruises on their legs, playin', I rubbed 'em good with
+hoss lin'ment. After that I give 'em some o' that tonic--quinine an'
+something. An' then, seein' they couldn't eat food this mornin', an'
+had got sick headaches, I give 'em one o' them fizzy Seidlitz fellers
+between 'em. Jamie bein' the smallest I give him the thin white
+packet, an' the other, the blue one, I give to Vada. That seemed to
+fix them good, an I guess they're most ready fer their baths by now."
+
+"I guessed you'd treat 'em right," approved Sunny seriously. "Ther'
+ain't nothin' like physic. You're sure a wise guy, Zip."
+
+Sandy Joyce agreed, too.
+
+"You was dead right," he said impressively. "It don't never do takin'
+chances with kids o' that age. Chances is bum things, anyway. Y'see,
+kids ken ketch such a heap o' things. Ther's bile, an' measles, an'
+dropsy, an' cancer, an' hydryfoby, an' all kinds o' things. They's
+li'ble to ketch 'em as easy as gettin' flies wi' molasses. An' some o'
+them is ter'ble bad. Ever had hydryfoby? No? Wal, I ain't neither, but
+I see a feller with it oncet, an' he jest went around barkin' like a
+camp dog chasin' after swill bar'ls, an' was scared to death o'
+water--"
+
+"Some folks don't need hydryfoby fer that," put in Toby, with a grin.
+
+"Ther' ain't no call fer you buttin' in," flashed Sandy angrily.
+"Guess I'm talkin' o' things you ain't heerd tell of. You ain't out o'
+your cradle yet."
+
+He turned back to his host and prepared to continue his list of
+horrors, but Sunny forestalled him.
+
+"Talkin' o' water," he said, "you ain't bathed the kids yet?"
+
+Scipio shook his head.
+
+"The water's cookin'."
+
+"Cookin'?" Toby whistled.
+
+Sunny sat up, all interest.
+
+"Hot bath?" he inquired, with wide eyes. "You ain't givin' 'em a _hot_
+bath?" he exclaimed incredulously.
+
+A troubled look came into Scipio's pale eyes. He doubted his purpose
+in face of his friends' astonishment.
+
+"Why, yes. That's how I _was_ thinking," he said weakly. "Y'see, I
+guessed it would soften the dirt quicker, and make it easy wipin' it
+off."
+
+"But ain't you scared o' them--peelin'?" inquired Sandy, refusing to
+be left out of the discussion.
+
+Scipio looked perplexed.
+
+"Peelin'?" he said. "I--I don't think I get you."
+
+"Why," explained Sandy readily, "peelin' their skins off 'em. You
+allus sets potatoes in b'ilin' water to git their skins peeled quick.
+Same with hogs. Same with most anything. I call that a fool chance to
+take."
+
+Scipio's perplexity merged into a mild smile.
+
+"I wouldn't jest set 'em into boilin' water," he explained; "kind of
+warm, with a bit o' soda."
+
+Sunny approved.
+
+"That sure don't sound too bad," he declared. "But wot about 'em
+gettin' cold? Takin' all that dirt off sudden, y'see--"
+
+"He's dosed 'em wi' cough cure," broke in Toby.
+
+"Sure," agreed Sunny. "I'd fergot--Say"--he turned to the doorway and
+craned towards it--"here's--here's Wild Bill coming along."
+
+Toby promptly scrambled up from the door-sill and made way for the
+Trust president. He strode into the room with a quick glance round and
+a short, harsh "Howdy?" for the lesser members of his corporation. His
+manner towards Scipio was no less unbending.
+
+And, curiously enough, his coming silenced all further discussion.
+Scipio had nothing to say whatever, and the others felt that here was
+their leader from whom they must take their cue.
+
+Nor was it long in coming. Scipio rose and offered his chair to the
+newcomer, but the gambler promptly kicked the proffered seat aside,
+and took up his position on the fuel-box. He glared into the little
+man's face for a few seconds, and then opened his lips.
+
+"Wal?" he drawled.
+
+Scipio stirred uneasily.
+
+"I'm real glad to see you, Bill," he managed to mumble out. "I ain't
+got no rye--"
+
+"Rye--hell!" The gambler was not a patient man, and the laws of
+hospitality interested him not in the least. "Say"--he pointed at the
+open Bible on the table beside Sandy--"takin' on psalm-smitin'?"
+
+Scipio hurled himself into the breach.
+
+"It's them regulations Sunny give me for raisin' the kids. They need a
+Bible talk after their bath. I bin readin' up some."
+
+A momentary twinkle flashed into the gambler's eyes.
+
+"Have you give 'em their bath?" he demanded.
+
+Scipio pointed at the stove, on which the water was already boiling.
+
+"The water's cookin'," he said. "Guess it's most ready." The gambler
+glanced round the room severely.
+
+"Then why the devil is you'se fellers settin' around? Wher's the
+tub?"
+
+"Down at the creek. It's the wash-tub," Scipio explained, bestirring
+himself. The other men stood up ready.
+
+There was no doubt that Bill had taken possession of the situation. He
+always seemed to dominate his fellows. Now he caught Scipio's eye and
+held him.
+
+"Jest gather the things up quick," he said authoritatively, "an' we'll
+get busy."
+
+And as Scipio heaped up the necessary articles for the bath on the
+table, he looked on with the keenest interest. Finally the little man
+paused beside the heap, holding in his hand the box of water-softener,
+which he was eyeing somewhat doubtfully. Bill's eyes still twinkled.
+
+"Wot's that?" he demanded in his savage way, as though he had never
+seen the box before.
+
+"That? Why, that's for bathin'," said Scipio doubtfully. "Y'see, it's
+a fixin' swell ladies in Noo York an' such places use for makin' their
+baths soft an' dandy. Sunny brought it along last night. He guessed it
+would be elegant for the kids. Y'see, his mother sent it a present to
+him. He didn't reckon he had use for it, seein' he took his bath in
+the creek every mornin'. He guessed natural water was best for him."
+
+Bill snorted.
+
+"Sunny's a bright lad," he said, while Toby softly exploded with
+laughter in the doorway.
+
+But the gambler was bent on the purpose in hand, and promptly
+dismissed the loafer's fairy-story from his mind.
+
+"Here, get around and bear a hand," he cried, indicating the pile on
+the table. "You, Toby, quit laffin' an' git a holt on them clean
+laundry. An' say, don't you muss 'em any. Sunny, you best pile up them
+washin' fixin's--that hand-scrubber, the soap, that wash-flannel an'
+the towels. Guess that's the nighest you'll ever come to bathin'
+yourself. Sandy Joyce ken carry the hot water, an', if Zip's yaller
+pup gets around, see you don't scald him any. Guess I'll handle these
+yer dippers. That way Zip'll be free to take the kids along. After
+they're bathed they ken set around in the sun, while Zip gives 'em a
+real elegant Bible talk."
+
+The whole thing was simplicity itself in the capable hands of a man of
+Bill's energy. But for his advent the bath might have been delayed
+until the water on the cookstove had boiled away. What with Sandy's
+love of debate and Sunny's indolence, the visit of these men might
+have been prolonged for hours. As it was, in five minutes after Bill's
+appearance upon the scene the cortege was ready to set out for the
+water's edge; and not only ready, but more than willing to submit the
+all-unconscious twins to the combination of their inexperienced
+efforts in matters ablutionary. The one saving clause for the poor
+little creatures was the presence of their father and a man of
+practical intelligence such as the gambler. How they might have fared
+at the hands of the others is a matter best not contemplated too
+closely.
+
+At a word from Wild Bill the procession set out. Scipio headed it,
+with a child clinging to each hand, doddling along at his side all
+blissfully unconscious, but delighted at going whither their elders
+led them. Vada babbled with delight, and kept up a fire of chattering
+questions in a truly feminine manner, while little Jamie, stolid but
+no less joyous, devoured everything with hungry, thoughtful eyes, and
+punctuated his sister's remarks with characteristic grunts, and an
+occasional emphatic ejaculation and protest at the yellow pup, who
+would lick his dirty legs.
+
+Behind these came Sandy Joyce, the picture of absurd dignity, as he
+vainly strove to carry the boiler of water without scalding himself.
+Toby came immediately behind him, with the bundle of laundry, a
+tumbled mass in his arms, crushed firmly to his stout chest, lest, by
+any ill-fate, he should drop any of the strange garments, which looked
+so absurdly small in his ignorant eyes.
+
+Next came Sunny with the cleansing properties, which he carried
+gingerly, as though the very nature of them were repugnant to him, and
+the labor of carrying them an offense to his creed of life. The soap
+particularly troubled him. Its slippery nature made him drop it
+several times, till it seemed almost as though it resented him
+personally, and was trying to escape from the insult of such
+association. Wild Bill brought up the rear of the column, bearing the
+bright tin dippers, which clattered violently as they swung together
+on their string loops. He suggested nothing so much as a herder
+driving before him his unusual flock by the aid of a violent rattling
+on tin cans.
+
+Solemnly the procession wound its way down the hill. Only the voices
+of the children, the yapping of the pup and the clatter of tinware
+enlivened the journey. The men's minds were engrossed with their
+various charges. It was serious--desperately serious. But then, a bath
+in any form, much less a bath of two small children, was an affair of
+the gravest importance to these men. Then, too, there was nervousness
+with it. Everybody felt responsible, from the father to the desperate
+instigator of what was, in their minds, something almost amounting to
+an outrage.
+
+However, the windings and roughnesses of the path, as it twisted its
+way through the scrubby bushes lining the creek bank, were finally
+negotiated more or less satisfactorily. The mishaps were not as great
+as might have been anticipated. Sandy only scalded himself twice, and
+his curses had to be stifled by a sharp reprimand from the gambler.
+Toby skidded down the slope once, and only saved the laundry at the
+personal expense of a torn shirt and a grazed elbow. Sunny, except for
+his difference of opinion with the soap, enjoyed no other mishap, and
+Bill's only transgression was to send one of the dippers, amidst a
+volley of curses, hurtling at the yellow pup, who at one time
+threatened to upset all Sandy's dignity, and incidentally the boiling
+water, by getting mixed up with that worthy widower's legs.
+
+The halt was made beside the wash-tub, and childish curiosity promptly
+asserted itself.
+
+"You ain't washin' more clothes, poppa?" demanded Vada, with wide
+questioning eyes. "Ain't this Sunday?"
+
+"Pop-pa wash tothes," mumbled Jamie.
+
+Sunny took it upon himself to put the matter right in the small minds.
+He beamed upon the children.
+
+"Poppa's going to wash _you_," he said, with unction.
+
+"Wot for?" demanded Vada. "We ain't done nothin'."
+
+"'Cos you needs it," replied the loafer, uncomfortably avoiding the
+blandly questioning eyes.
+
+"Ugh!" interjected Jamie.
+
+"We ain't as dirty as you," said Vada, after a thoughtful pause.
+
+Sunny busied himself laying out the utensils on the grassiest spot he
+could find. Toby glanced round after depositing the laundry
+department. He guffawed loudly, and went on with his work. Sunny's
+face went a dirty scarlet, but he refrained from retort. And promptly
+little Vada went on.
+
+"I don't want bath," she protested plaintively. And Jamie chorused in
+with a grunt of agreement, while he busied himself trying to climb up
+the sides of the tub.
+
+Scipio snatched him away, and looked round weakly for support. It came
+in a sharp command from Bill, who had seated himself on a fallen
+tree-trunk.
+
+"Git busy," he ordered. "Set that doggone water in the tub, an' Sunny
+ken dip the boiler full of cold. You boys ken do that while Zip gets
+the kids ready. Guess he'll likely know best wher' the strings an'
+buttons is."
+
+His orders were silently executed by the men. But the children had no
+awe of the gambler, and their protests were many and querulous.
+However, the tub was filled satisfactorily, and Scipio finally
+succeeded in fumbling the clothes off the children.
+
+It was a curious scene. Scipio moved about with an air of the mildest
+perplexity. Sunny slouched through his work as though it were the
+hardest of labor, although he was really enjoying himself. Toby was
+grinning all over his face with huge enjoyment, while Sandy performed
+his share with such an aspect of care that his labors might have been
+of an absolutely epoch-making nature. Bill suggested simple authority.
+The "kids" must be bathed, and he was going to see it done.
+
+When all preparations had been made, Scipio became the chief operator,
+and each man took up his position where best he could witness the
+process. There was something so mildly stimulating to these ruffians
+in observing the clumsy lavering of two small children. They all
+appreciated cleanliness in theory; it was only the practice that they
+were unaccustomed to, and here it was being demonstrated before their
+interested eyes. They watched Scipio's efforts for some moments in
+silence, while he, with gentle persuasion, overcame each childish
+protest. He did it in such a kindly, patient way that very soon these
+small atoms of humanity, sitting facing each other cross-legged in the
+tub, gained ample confidence, and gave expression to infantile delight
+by splashing each other with water, and incidentally treating their
+father to an even less welcome bath.
+
+They laughed and crowed and chattered while their father plied the
+house-flannel, and only were their piping voices quiet at such moments
+as their small round faces were smothered with soapsuds, or lost in
+the embracing folds of the none too savory cloth.
+
+But on the part of the spectators, their interest would not permit of
+long silence. And it was Sandy Joyce, quite irrepressible where advice
+was concerned, who found it necessary to interfere.
+
+"Ain't you rubbin' 'em too hard?" he questioned, after prolonged
+cogitation.
+
+Scipio turned to reply in the midst of swabbing Jamie's lower limbs.
+He was holding one foot dangerously high in the air, and the movement
+caused him to upset the child's balance, so that his upper part
+promptly disappeared beneath the frothing suds. A wild splashing and
+yell from Vada warned her father of the threatened tragedy, and Jamie
+was hauled up, coughing and spluttering. The little man, with scared
+face, sought at once to pacify the frightened child, while Sunny
+withered the interfering widower with a few well-chosen words.
+
+"Say, you'd butt in an' tell folk they wasn't nailin' up your coffin
+right," he cried angrily. "Will you kep that instrument o' foolishness
+o' yours quiet fer ten minutes?"
+
+Sandy flushed.
+
+"They ain't got hides like hogs," he grumbled. "They needs handlin'
+easy. Say, jest look what he's doin' now. What's--"
+
+He broke off, and all eyes watched Scipio's movements as he turned
+Jamie over, and, supporting his dripping body in the crook of his arm,
+plied the flannel upon the boy's back. The moment was a tense one.
+Then a sigh of relief went up as the child dropped back in the water
+with a splash.
+
+"I ain't never see kids handled that way," cried the disgusted Sandy,
+unable to keep silence any longer. Then, as no one seemed inclined to
+question his statement, he went on, "Wot I sez is, kids needs
+women-folk to do they things right. Zip's handlin' 'em like raw beef."
+Then he turned on Sunny, whose rebuke was still rankling. "Guess
+you'll say he ain't--bein' contrary. Now, ef I was washin' 'em,
+I'd--"
+
+"Shut up," cried Wild Bill harshly. Then he added, with biting
+sarcasm, "I ain't surprised you're a widder-man."
+
+Toby made no attempt to disguise his laughter, and it maddened the
+unfortunate Sandy; and if a look could have killed, Sunny would have
+died grinning. However, the widower sheltered himself in the silence
+demanded of him until the children were lifted out of the tub and
+dried by their patient father. Nor did he even attempt to further
+interfere while their parent struggled them into their little woolen
+undershirts.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+--A BIBLE TALK
+
+
+It was with a sigh of relief that Scipio now turned to Wild Bill.
+Somehow, he naturally looked to him for guidance. Nor did he quite
+know why.
+
+"'Bout that Bible talk?" he inquired. "Guess you said they best set
+around in the sun."
+
+Bill nodded.
+
+"I sure did. Guess they kind o' need airin' some. 'Tain't no use in
+settin' in their clothes damp; they'll be gettin' sick, sure. Ther's a
+dandy bit o' grass right here. Best set 'em down, an' get around an'
+hand 'em your talk."
+
+But the worried father pushed his weedy hair off his forehead with a
+troubled air.
+
+"I haven't read up a deal," he apologized.
+
+The gambler promptly swept his objection aside.
+
+"That don't figger any. Once you get goin' you won't find no trouble.
+It's dead easy after you're started. That's the way it is with
+passons. They jest get a holt of a notion, an' then--why, they jest
+yarn."
+
+"I see," replied Scipio doubtfully, while the other men gathered
+round. "But," he went on more weakly still, "'bout that notion?"
+
+Bill stirred impatiently.
+
+"That's it. You start right in with the notion."
+
+"Course," cried Sandy. "The notion's easy. Why, ther's heaps o' things
+you ken take as a notion. Say, wa'an't ther' a yarn 'bout some blamed
+citizen what took to a cave, an' the checkens an' things got busy
+feedin' him?"
+
+"Ravens," said Sunny.
+
+"Ravens nuthin'," cried the indignant Sandy. "Checkens of the air,
+they was."
+
+Sunny shrugged.
+
+"That ain't no sort o' Bible talk, anyway," he protested. "You need
+suthin' what gives 'em a lesson. Now, ther's Nore an' his floatin'
+ranch--"
+
+"That wa'an't a ranch neither," contradicted Sandy promptly. "It was
+jest a barn."
+
+"Ark," said Toby.
+
+"Wal, ark then," admitted Sandy. He didn't mind Toby's interference.
+
+But the discussion was allowed to go no further. Bill's impatience
+manifested itself promptly.
+
+"Say, it don't matter a cuss whether it was an ark or a barn or a
+ranch. Sunny's yarn goes. Now, jest set around an' git the kids in the
+middle, an' you, Zip, git busy with this Nore racket."
+
+The last authority had given its decision. There was no more to be
+said, and the matter was promptly proceeded with. The expectant
+children, who had stood by listening to the discussion of their
+elders, were now seated on the grass, and before them sat the board of
+Scriptural instruction. Bill remained in his position on the
+tree-trunk. On the ground, cross-legged, sat Scipio, on his right.
+Sunny lounged full length upon the ground next to him. Sandy and Toby
+formed the other horn of the half-circle on the gambler's left.
+
+It was a quaint picture upon which the warm noon sun shone down. The
+open grass clearing, surrounded with tall dense bushes. On one side
+the wash-tub and the various appurtenances of the bath, with the creek
+a little way beyond. And in the open, sitting alone, side by side,
+their little pink bodies bare of all but their coarse woolen
+undershirts, their little faces shining with wholesome soap, their
+eyes bright with expectancy for the story that was to come, the two
+pretty children of a lonely father. Then, in a semicircle about them,
+the members of the Trust, with their hard, unclean faces, their rough
+clothes and rougher manners, and their uncultured minds driven by
+hearts that were--well, just human.
+
+"Git busy," ordered Bill, when the Trust had finally settled itself.
+
+And promptly Scipio, with more determination than discretion, cleared
+his throat and plunged into his peroration.
+
+His mild face beamed. Gentleness and affection shone in every line of
+it. And somehow his diffidence, the realization of his ignorance of
+the work demanded of him, were absorbed and lost to his consciousness
+in the wonderful parental delight of teaching his offspring.
+
+"Say, kiddies," he began, with that soft inflection that seems so much
+a part of some men of rough manners, "I want you to listen careful to
+a yarn I'm goin' to tell you about. Y'see--"
+
+He hesitated, and unconsciously one hand was lifted and passed across
+his brow with a movement that suggested puzzlement. It was as though
+he were not quite sure whither his story were going to lead him.
+
+The gambler nodded encouragingly.
+
+"Bully," he murmured, turning his eyes just for one moment in the
+little man's direction. But it was only for a moment. The next he was
+staring absorbedly out at the bush opposite, like a man lost in some
+train of thought far removed from the matter in hand. His beady eyes
+stared unsmilingly, but with curious intentness.
+
+However, Scipio was far too much concerned with what lay before him to
+think of anything else. But the sharply spoken encouragement spurred
+him, and he went ahead.
+
+"Now, maybe you both heard tell how God made this funny old world for
+us to live in," he went on, endeavoring to give lightness to his
+manner. "He made Sufferin' Creek, too--"
+
+Toby coughed, and Sandy whispered audibly to him.
+
+"I don't guess Zip ought to run Sufferin' Creek in this yarn," he said
+seriously. "Sufferin' Creek don't seem right in a Bible talk."
+
+Scipio waited, and then, ignoring the comment, labored clumsily on.
+
+"Now, I'm goin' to tell you a yarn about it. Y'see, kiddies--y'see,
+ther' weren't a heap o' folk around when God first fixed things
+right--"
+
+"Jest one man an' a snake," interrupted Sandy in his informative way.
+
+"Shut up," whispered Toby, prodding him with his elbow. Sandy scowled,
+but remained silent.
+
+"Wal," continued Scipio, "as I was sayin', He jest made one sort o'
+sample man an' a snake. An'," he added, suddenly brightening under
+inspiration, "He sot 'em in a garden, an' called it the Garden of
+Eden."
+
+Little Vada suddenly clapped her hands.
+
+"Yes, an' it was all flowers an'--an' fruit," she cried ecstatically.
+
+Jamie's eyes were dancing with delight, too, but he remained silent,
+waiting for developments.
+
+The members of the Trust looked on with the deepest interest. Each
+man's face wore a half-smile--that is, all except the gambler's, who
+still appeared to be absorbed in his own thought--and the bush
+opposite. But the interest of these men was less in the little man's
+story than in a speculation as to when he was going to break down, and
+yield his tutelary attitude before a battery of infantile questions.
+
+However, Scipio was still in a fairly strong position.
+
+"Well," he agreed, "I do guess ther' was fruit ther', but I don't
+guess it was a fruit ranch exactly. Maybe it was sort of mixed
+farmin'. Howsum, that don't matter a heap. Y'see, ther' was heaps an'
+heaps of animals, an' bugs, an' spiders, an' things--an' jest one
+man."
+
+"Ther' was a woman," corrected the irrepressible Sandy. "That's dead
+sure. They got busy on one of the man's ribs an' made her. Ain't that
+so, Toby?"
+
+He turned to the squat figure beside him for corroboration, but Sunny
+took up the matter from across the semicircle.
+
+"You're a wise guy," he exclaimed scornfully. "Can't you kep from
+buttin' in? Say, I'd hate to know sech a heap as you."
+
+Just for an instant Wild Bill turned his sharp eyes on his companions.
+
+"Shut up you'se all," he cried. And promptly Scipio was allowed to
+continue his story.
+
+"Now, 'bout that garden," he said thoughtfully. "Y'see, God told that
+feller he wasn't to pick no fruit. Y'see, I guess it was needed fer
+cannin' or preservin'. Maybe it was needed for makin' elegant candy. I
+don't know rightly--"
+
+"You're talkin' foolish," exclaimed Sandy, jumping up excitedly.
+"Cannin'?" he cried scornfully. "They didn't can fruit them days."
+
+"Maybe you're right," said Scipio apologetically.
+
+"I know I am," snorted Sandy.
+
+"Then shut up," cried Bill, without turning his head.
+
+"Anyhow," went on Scipio, when all argument had ceased, "it was jest
+up to that feller not to pick that fruit. An' he didn't mean to
+neither, only he got kind o' friendly with that snake--"
+
+Little Vada jumped up.
+
+"I know--I know," she cried, in the wildest excitement. "The snake
+made him eat an apple, an' then the rain came down, an' poured an'
+poured--"
+
+"Poured an' poured," echoed Jamie, jumping to his feet and dancing
+around his sister.
+
+"That's so," admitted Scipio, in relief.
+
+"Poured nothin'," murmured Sandy under his breath. "He's messin' up
+the whole yarn."
+
+But as his comment didn't reach the father's ears he went on
+placidly.
+
+"Wal, the rain poured down," he said, "so they was nigh drownded--"
+
+"Why'd the rain tum?" suddenly inquired Jamie with interest.
+
+"Ah!" murmured Scipio. Then he added brightly, "Because he picked the
+fruit."
+
+"Y'see," explained Vada, with sisterly patronage, "he didn't orter
+picked the apple."
+
+Jamie nodded without understanding.
+
+"'Ess."
+
+"Wal," went on Scipio, taking advantage of the pause, "he was nigh
+drownded, an' he had to swim an' swim, an' then he built himself a
+ranch."
+
+"Barn," cried Sandy, unable to keep quiet any longer. "It was a barn
+to kep his stock in."
+
+"Ark," said Toby decidedly. "He built a Nore's Ark--same as toys
+kiddies plays with."
+
+"But Bill said Sunny's yarn goes," protested the troubled Scipio. And,
+receiving an affirmatory nod from the preoccupied gambler, he went on.
+"Wal, he set that ranch afloat, an' put out a boat an' rescued all the
+other animals, an' bugs, an' spiders, an' things, an' then set out a
+duck to see how things was going--"
+
+"Not a duck, Zip," said Sunny, shaking his head sorrowfully.
+
+"Course not," agreed Sandy scornfully.
+
+"Pigeon," suggested Toby.
+
+But little Vada saved the situation. She jumped to her feet, dragging
+Jamie with her. Her dark eyes were shining, and her round little
+cheeks were scarlet with excitement.
+
+"It wasn't a duck, nor a pigeon, nor nothin' but a parrot," she
+declared. "Momma told us. He sent out a parrot; an' it flew, an' flew,
+an' flew. An' then it come back to the ark, carryin' a tree in its
+beak. An' then Nore knew there wasn't no more rain, nor nothing, an'
+they turned his wife into a pillow o' salt 'cos she'd made him eat the
+apple. An', pop-pa, tell us another."
+
+"'Ess, a nudder," cried Jamie, his chubby fat legs wabbling under him
+as he danced about--"a nudder--a nudder--a nud--"
+
+But his lisping request was never completed, for, without a word of
+warning, Wild Bill suddenly leapt from his seat, and, with a wave of
+his arm, swept the two children sprawling into their father's lap,
+while he charged across the clearing. Just for a fraction of a second
+he paused as he closed on the bush he had so long contemplated, and
+his friends heard his voice in a furious oath.
+
+"You son of a--!" he roared; and simultaneously there was a flash and
+a sharp report from his gun--another, and yet another. Then he
+vanished into the bush, his smoking revolver still in his hand ready
+for use, followed, with no less speed, by Toby and Sandy Joyce.
+
+For a moment Scipio stared; but Sunny Oak seemed to grasp something of
+the situation. He flung himself before the two children, his right
+hand gripping a revolver which he always carried concealed amongst his
+rags. And at the same moment the gambler's voice came back to him.
+
+"Huyk them kids right back to the store, an' kep 'em there!" it cried.
+And instantly the indolent loafer, with a movement almost electrical
+in its swiftness, seized Vada in his arms and dashed off up the hill,
+followed by the little father, bearing the screaming Jamie in his.
+
+Inside the bush the three men searched, with eyes and ears alert in
+the fashion of furious terriers. The branches and inner leaves were
+spattered with blood, showing that the gambler's shots had taken some
+effect. The ground, too, was covered with footprints.
+
+With a rush Bill set off trailing the latter, and so soft was the
+ground that he had little or no difficulty in the matter. The trail
+took them along the creek bank, and here and there a splash of blood
+warned them that their quarry was severely wounded.
+
+But, even so, they were doomed to disappointment. Thirty yards from
+the clearing they came to a spot where the moist soil was well beaten
+with horse's hoofs, and here the human footprints ended. All three men
+stared out down the creek. And then it was that another furious oath
+escaped the gambler's lips, as he beheld a racing horseman making good
+his escape, more than a hundred yards below them.
+
+For some moments Wild Bill stood raging impotently. Then he turned on
+his companions, with a perfect devil glaring out of his ferocious
+eyes.
+
+"God's curse light on 'em!" he roared. "It's James' gang. May his soul
+rot. I'll get 'em! I'll get 'em! They're after those kids. But, by the
+wall-eyed Mackinaw, they shan't touch a hair o' their heads as long as
+I'm a livin' man. It's war, boys! D'ye hear? It's him an' me. Me--an'
+James! An' I swar to God he'll go down an' out as sure as my name's
+Wild Bill!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+WILD BILL FIRES A BOMB
+
+
+When Wild Bill returned to his hut later on in the afternoon he was
+consumed by a cold, hard rage, such as comes but rarely in the life of
+any man. There was no demonstrativeness: he had no words to give it
+expression. It was the rage of a man who coldly, calmly collects every
+faculty of brain and body into one great concentration for harm to its
+object. It was a moment when every evil thought and feeling was drawn
+into a cruel longing for harm--harm calculated to be of the most
+merciless description.
+
+Neither of the companions who had joined him in the pursuit of the
+man they had discovered lurking down at the river had any real
+understanding of what lay in the back of the gambler's mind. His
+outburst there had been the first volcanic rage which had lit the
+fires of hate now burning so deep down in his intolerant heart.
+That outburst they had understood. That was the man as they knew
+him. But this other man they knew nothing of. This was the real man
+who returned to his hut, silent and ghastly, with implacable hatred
+burning in his heart.
+
+All three had hurriedly and silently returned to the store from their
+futile chase. Bill offered no explanation, and his manner was so
+forbidding that even the intrepid Sandy had found no use for the
+questions he would so gladly have put.
+
+When they arrived, Scipio and Sunny, with the twins, had reached the
+place just before them. But they were lost sight of in the rush that
+was made to tell the gambler of the happenings at Sid Morton's ranch.
+Nor had he any choice but to listen to the luridly narrated facts.
+However, his choice did fall in with their desires, and, after the
+first brief outline, told with all the imagination this varied
+collection of beings was capable of, he found himself demanding, as
+eagerly as they were waiting to tell, every detail of the matter, and
+even went so far as to examine the body of the dead rancher, roughly
+laid out in the barn on a bed of hay. He listened almost without
+comment, which was unusual in him. His manner displayed no heat. He
+was cold, critical, and his only words were to ask sharp and
+definitely pointed questions. Then, having given Minky instructions
+for the safeguarding of the children, he departed without even
+mentioning his own adventure down at the river.
+
+But if he neglected to do so, it was otherwise with his friends, the
+other members of the Trust. The moment his back was turned they shed
+the story broadcast, each man competing with the other in his endeavor
+to make it thoroughly palatable to the sensation-loving ears of their
+fellow-townsmen. And probably of them all Sandy was the most
+successful.
+
+In half-an-hour, loyally supported by his friends, he had the whole of
+Suffering Creek strung to such a pitch of nervous excitement that
+every man was set looking to his firearms, and all talk was directed
+towards the most adequate means of defending their homes and
+property.
+
+In the briefest possible time, from a peaceful, industrious camp,
+Suffering Creek was transformed into a war base, every citizen stirred
+not only to defense of his own, but with a longing to march out to the
+fray, to seek these land pirates in the open and to exterminate them,
+as they would willingly exterminate any other vermin.
+
+Men talked war. Brains were feverishly racked for strategy, and for
+historical accounts of a similar situation in which a town rose to
+arms and took the law into its own hands. Stories flew from lip to
+lip, and, as is usual under such stress, so did the convivial glass.
+
+And the result which followed was quite in keeping with the occasion.
+Quarrels and bickerings occurred, which kept the place at fever-heat
+until the store closed down for the night and the supply of liquor was
+cut off. Then slumber brought its beneficent opiate to distracted
+nerves.
+
+Throughout it all Minky kept his head level. Whatever he felt and
+thought, he had nothing to offer on the altar of public suggestion. He
+knew that of all these irresponsible debaters he had the most to lose.
+Nor did he feel inclined to expose anything of the risk at which he
+stood. It was a depressing time for him, so depressing that he could
+see very little hope. His risk was enormous. He felt that the
+probability was that this raiding gang were well enough posted as to
+the store of gold he held in his cellars. He felt that, should James
+or any of his people decide upon a coup, the attack would be well
+timed, when the miners were out at their work, and he and the camp
+generally were left defenseless.
+
+What could he do? He must rid himself of the "dust" somehow. He must
+dispose of it secretly. A hiding--that seemed to him, amidst his
+trouble, to be the only thing. But where? That was the thing. He must
+consult Bill. To his mind Bill was the only man upon whom he could
+place any real reliance, upon whose judgment he could depend. So, with
+his shrewd eyes ever on the watch for strangers amongst his customers,
+he longed for the hours to pass until he could close his store and
+seek the gambler in his hut.
+
+In the meantime Wild Bill had cut himself off from his fellows,
+spending the long evening hours in the solitude of his humble
+dwelling. The man was strangely calm, but his fierce eyes and pale
+face told of an enormous strain of thought driving him. His mind was
+sweeping along over a series of vivid pictures of past events, mixed
+up with equally vivid and strongly marked scenes of possible events to
+come. He was reviewing silently, sternly, a situation which, by some
+extraordinary kink in his vanity, he felt it was for him to assume the
+responsibility of. He felt, although with no feeling of pride, that
+he, and he alone, could see it through.
+
+The fact of the matter was that, by some strange mental process,
+James' doings--his approach to the camp, in fact his very existence--had
+somehow become a direct individual challenge to him. Without
+acknowledging it to himself, he in some subtle way understood that
+everything this desperado did was a challenge to him--a sneering,
+contemptuous challenge to him. James was metaphorically snapping his
+fingers under his very nose.
+
+That these were his feelings was undeniable. That the thoughts of the
+possibilities of an attack on the camp were the mainspring of his
+antagonism to the man, that this voluntary guardianship of Scipio and
+his twins was the source of his rage against him, it was impossible to
+believe. They may have influenced him in a small degree, but only in a
+small degree. The man was cast in a very different mold from that of a
+simple philanthropist. It was the man's vanity, the headstrong vanity
+of a strong and selfish man, that drove him. And as he sat silently
+raging under his thoughts of the happenings of that day, had he put
+his paramount feelings into words he would have demanded how James
+dared to exist in a district which he, Wild Bill of Abilene, had made
+his own.
+
+He spent the evening sitting on his bed or pacing his little hut, his
+thoughts tumbling headlong through his brain. He found himself almost
+absently inspecting his armory, and loading and unloading his favorite
+weapons. There was no definite direction in anything he thought or
+did, unless it were in the overwhelming hatred against James which
+colored his every feeling. Without realizing it, every force of mind
+and body was seeking inspiration.
+
+And the evening was well-nigh spent before inspiration came. Careless
+of time, of everything but his feelings, he had finally flung himself
+full length upon his bed, brain-weary and resourceless. Then came the
+change. As his head touched the pillow it almost seemed to rebound;
+and he found himself sitting up again glaring at the opposite wall
+with the desired inspiration in his gimlet eyes.
+
+"Gee!" he breathed, with a force that sent the exclamation hissing
+through the room.
+
+And for an hour his attitude remained unchanged. His legs were drawn
+up and his long arms were clasped about his knees. His eyes were
+fiercely focused upon a cartridge-belt hanging upon the wall, and
+there they remained, seemingly a fixture, while thought, no longer
+chaotic, flew through his revivified brain. He gave no sign; he
+uttered no word. But his face told its story of a fiendish joy which
+swept from his head to his heart, and thrilled his whole body.
+
+It was in the midst of this that he received a visit from his friend
+Minky. And the moment the door opened in response to his summons the
+look in his eyes, when he saw who his visitor was, was a cordial
+welcome. He swung round and dropped his legs over the side of his
+bunk.
+
+"What's the time?" he demanded.
+
+Minky pointed to the alarm-clock on the gambler's table.
+
+"Nigh one o'clock," he said, with a faint smile.
+
+But Bill ignored the quiet sarcasm.
+
+"Good," he cried. Then he brought his eyes to the other's face. They
+were literally blazing with suppressed excitement. There was something
+in them, too, that lifted Minky out of his desperate mood. Somehow
+they suggested hope to him. Somehow the very presence of this man had
+a heartening effect.
+
+"Say," cried the gambler in a tone that thrilled with power, "this is
+Sunday. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday," he counted the days off on his
+lean, muscular fingers. "That's it, sure. Wednesday we send out a
+'stage,' an' you're goin' to ship your gold-dust on it. You'll ship it
+to Spawn City. Meanwhiles you'll buy up all you feel like. Clean the
+camp out of 'dust,' an' ship it by that stage."
+
+The storekeeper stared. For a moment he thought his friend had taken
+leave of his senses. A scathing refusal hovered on his lips. But the
+words never matured. He was looking into the man's burning eyes, and
+he realized that a big purpose lay behind his words.
+
+"An'," he inquired, with a smile from which he could not quite shut
+out the irony, "an' who's goin' to--drive it through?"
+
+"I am."
+
+The storekeeper jumped and his eyes widened. He started forward. Then
+he checked himself. He struggled with a sudden emotion.
+
+"You?" he cried in a sharp whisper. "I--I don't get you."
+
+The gambler leapt to his feet. He strode down the length of the hut
+and came back again. He finally paused before his bewildered friend.
+
+"No, o' course you don't," he cried hotly; "course you don't. Here,
+how much 'dust' ken you ship?"
+
+"Maybe we'd need to ship sixty thousand dollars' worth. That is, if we
+rake around among the boys."
+
+Minky watched his man closely as he spoke. He was still doubting, but
+he was ready enough to be convinced. He knew it was no use asking too
+many questions. Wild Bill hated questions. He watched the latter
+plunge a hand into the inside pocket of his coat and draw out a book.
+He had no difficulty in recognizing it as the gambler flung it on the
+table with a force that set the lamp rattling.
+
+"There it is," he cried, with a fierce oath. "Ther's my bank-book.
+Ther's seventy odd thousand dollars lyin' in the Spawn City bank to my
+dogasted credit. See?" He glared; then he drew a step nearer and bent
+forward. "I'm handin' you a check fer your dust," he went on. "I've
+seventy thousand dollars says I'm a better man than James an' all his
+rotten scum, an' that I'm goin' to shoot him to hell before the week's
+out. _Now_ d'ye get me?"
+
+Minky gasped. He had always believed he had long since fathomed the
+depths of his wild friend. He had always believed that the gambler had
+no moods which were not well known to him. He had seen him under
+almost every condition of stress. Yet here was a side to his character
+he had never even dreamed of, and he was flabbergasted.
+
+For a moment he had no words with which to adequately reply, and he
+merely shook his head. Instantly the other flew into one of his savage
+paroxysms by which it was so much his habit to carry through his
+purpose when obstructed.
+
+"You stand there shakin' your fool head like some mosey old cow," he
+cried, with a ruddy flush suddenly mounting to his temples. "An'
+you'll go on shakin' it till ther' ain't 'dust' enuff in your store to
+bury a louse. You'll go on shakin' it till James' gun rips out your
+vitals. Gee!" He threw his arms above his head appealing. "Give me a
+man," he cried. Then he brought one fist crashing down upon the table
+and shouted his final words: "Say, you'll get right out an' post the
+notices. I'm buyin' your 'dust,' an' I'm driving the stage."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+WILD BILL INSPECTS HIS CLAIM
+
+
+Suffering Creek awoke on the Monday morning laboring under a hideous
+depression of nightmare. There was no buoyancy in the contemplation of
+the day's "prospect." It was as though that wholesome joy of life
+which belongs to the "outdoor" man had suddenly been snatched away,
+and only the contemplation of a dull round of unprofitable labor had
+been left for the burdened mind to dwell upon.
+
+It was in this spirit that Joe Brand rubbed his eyes and pulled on his
+moleskin trousers. It was in this spirit that the miner, White,
+slouching along to the store for breakfast, saw and greeted him.
+
+"Nuthin' doin' in the night," he said, in something like the tone of a
+disappointed pessimist.
+
+"No." Joe Brand did not feel a great deal like talking. Besides the
+nightmare depression that held him he had drunk a good deal of rye
+whisky overnight.
+
+White stared out across the creek, whither his thoughts were still
+wandering.
+
+"Maybe we--was scairt some," he observed, with a hollow laugh.
+
+"Maybe."
+
+Joe's manner was discouraging.
+
+"Gettin' breakfast?" the other inquired presently.
+
+"Guess so."
+
+And the rest of the journey to the store was made in morose silence.
+
+Others were already astir when they reached their destination. And at
+some distance they beheld a small group of men clustering at one point
+on the veranda. But such was their mood that the matter had no
+interest whatever for them until they came within hailing distance.
+Then it was that they were both startled into new life. Then it was
+that all depression was swept away and active interest leapt. Then it
+was that sore heads and troubled thoughts gave way before an
+excitement almost equal to the previous day's, only that it carried
+with it a hope which the latter had almost killed.
+
+"Say, don't it beat hell?" demanded a burly prospector as they came
+up, pointing back at the wall of the store where the group was
+clustering like a swarm of bees.
+
+"Don't what?" inquired Brand, with only partial interest.
+
+"Why, that," cried the man, still pointing. "Ther' it is, all writ up
+ther'. It's in Minky's writin', too. They're sendin' out a stage,
+Wednesday. Git a peek at it."
+
+But Brand and his companion did not wait for his final suggestion.
+They, too, had already joined the cluster, and stood craning on the
+outskirts of it. Yes, there it was, well chalked out in Minky's bold
+capitals--an invitation to all his customers to trade all the gold
+they chose to part with to him at the usual rates, or to ship direct
+to the bank at Spawn City by a stage that was to leave Suffering Creek
+at eight o'clock on Wednesday morning, its safe delivery insured, at
+special rates, by the storekeeper himself.
+
+It was the most astounding notice, under the circumstances, ever seen
+on Suffering Creek, and as the citizens read it excitement surged to a
+tremendous pitch.
+
+The man called Van expressed something of the thought in every mind as
+he turned to Brand, who happened to be at his side.
+
+"Gee!" he cried, with ironical levity. "Old Minky's plum 'bug.' He's
+waited to 'unload' till James' gang has got the camp held up three
+miles out. Wal, I ain't shippin'. Guess I'll trade my dust at a
+discount. It's a sight easier carryin' United States currency."
+
+"But he's guaranteein' delivery at the bank," protested Brand.
+
+"That's what it sez, sure," observed White doubtfully.
+
+"It beats me," said the burly miner perplexedly, again drawn to the
+notice by the apparent recklessness of its purport. "It beats me
+sure," he reiterated. Then, after a thoughtful pause, he went back to
+his original statement as something that expressed the limit of his
+understanding. "It sure do beat hell."
+
+So it was throughout the morning. And by noon every soul in the camp
+had seen or heard of Minky's contemplated recklessness. The place was
+wild with excitement, and, instead of setting out for their various
+claims for the usual day's work, every man went out to scrape together
+any "dust" he possessed, and brought it in to trade.
+
+And Minky bought with perfect good-humor, discounting at the
+recognized tariff, but always with solemn eyes, and a mind still
+wondering at his overnight interview with Wild Bill. He had obeyed him
+implicitly, knowing that he was making a liberal profit for himself,
+whatever the gambler might be risking. All his transactions were
+guaranteed for him by the small fortune which Bill possessed safely
+deposited in the Spawn City bank. Well, it was not for him to
+hesitate.
+
+But his trading was not carried on without comment and questioning.
+Besides which, there was a heap of rough sarcasm and satire to put up
+with from his customers. But he put up with it. He could afford to.
+And to the closest questioning he had always one answer, and no
+enlightenment could they drag out of him.
+
+"The stage goes, boys," he told them. "An' personal, I ain't scairt a
+cent's-worth of James an' his gang. Though, to see the way you'se
+fellers are fallin' over yourselves to make trade with me, I guess I
+know some folks as is."
+
+The marvel of the whole thing confounded the public mind. But the
+selfishness of human nature demanded that advantage should be taken of
+the situation. If Minky, who recently had jibbed at trading gold, had
+suddenly eased the market, well, it was "up to him." It was his
+"funeral." The public jumped at the chance of realizing, and so
+relieving themselves of the cloud of trouble threatening them. James
+could come along with a whole army of desperadoes, once they had rid
+themselves of their "dust." They then would no longer have anything to
+lose except their lives, and those they were always prepared to risk
+in anything so enterprising as a little honest gun-play.
+
+It was noon when Wild Bill was stirring. And he listened to the news
+which greeted him on every hand with a calmly non-committal air. Nor,
+when he found it necessary to comment, did he hesitate to do so in his
+usual sharp, decided fashion.
+
+"Minky's good grit," he declared on one occasion to a puzzled miner.
+"I don't guess ther's many folks around as 'ud take his chances. I
+allow Sufferin' Creek needs to be proud of sech a feller."
+
+And his attitude promptly set up a new feeling in the camp. Minky's
+heroic pose had not struck the people before. But now the full force
+of it struck home in a manner which suddenly raised him to a great
+pinnacle of popularity. The storekeeper of Suffering Creek was
+standing between the camp and possible financial disaster. It was
+noble. It was splendid. Yes, they had reason to be very thankful to
+him.
+
+Bill contemplated the notice long and earnestly when his attention was
+first called to it. And his narrow eyes lit and twinkled as he read
+down the carefully chalked capitals. Minky had certainly done it well.
+But then Minky did most things well. He read it down a second time,
+and then pushed his way into the store. It was some time before he
+could reach his friend, but finally he got him to himself as he was
+poring over a big cash-book. The storekeeper looked up. Nor had he any
+greeting for his visitor. He was still dazed at the gambler's purpose.
+And somehow it was the latter who had to speak first.
+
+"You done it good, Minky," he said amiably.
+
+"Ther'll be sixty thousand dollars," the storekeeper mumbled
+doubtfully.
+
+"Good."
+
+"Good?"
+
+"Sure." Bill turned and gazed out of the window. "It needs to be a big
+pile. Makes things surer."
+
+"Surer? I don't get you."
+
+"No; that's so." The gambler turned back to the other abruptly. "Say,
+you get busy an' gas. Gas till you got the camp yappin' like coyotes.
+Tell 'em the stage is sure carryin' sixty thousand dollars' worth o'
+good red gold." Then his manner suddenly changed and he laughed. "Say,
+I'm jest goin' out to get a peek at my claim. I sure guess I bought a
+dandy rich claim o' Zip."
+
+"You orter know," said Minky, with a shake of the head. "I sure don't
+seem to understand--"
+
+"Course you don't," cried Bill, with strange good-nature. Then his
+eyes became curiously reflective. "Wher's Zip?"
+
+"Zip? Guess he's around with the kids. Y'see, the Bird's helpin' him
+fix things. Maybe they're back in the dinin'-room."
+
+Bill stood for a moment in deep thought. Then he turned suddenly, and
+his fierce little eyes fixed themselves on his friend's face.
+
+"Them kids," he said sharply. "Maybe I'll get you to kep 'em safe
+right here fer three days an' more. After that we'll see." Then in a
+moment his expression lightened and he laughed. "Guess I'll get Zip
+to come along an' show me the claim."
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+Half-an-hour later the gambler was striding down the river bank, with
+Scipio hurrying along at his side. Several times the little man had
+endeavored to engage his companion in amiable conversation. He wanted
+to talk about the episode at the river, but Bill would have none of
+it. Nor was it until he was nearly half-way to their destination,
+where Sandy Joyce was already at work, that he broke the silence in
+which he had wrapped himself.
+
+They had just emerged from a narrow cattle-track where they had been
+forced to walk in single file on account of the bush which grew in
+such abundance on either side of it. Bill was leading, and as the path
+widened into a clearing, in which lay several fallen trees rooted out
+of the ground by some long-passed flood of the creek, he suddenly
+turned about and faced his diminutive friend.
+
+"Here," he said, "we'll set here a piece. Guess we need to talk some."
+He glanced quickly about, and finally flung himself upon the nearest
+tree-trunk. "Set," he cried, pointing at another trunk lying opposite
+to him.
+
+Scipio wonderingly complied. He stood in considerable awe of the
+gambler, and now he was ransacking his brain to discover the object of
+this desire for a talk. He could find no adequate reason, except it
+might be that Bill was repenting of his bargain in purchasing a
+half-share in his claim. Yes, it might be that. It probably was that.
+He had no doubt bought on inaccurate information. Scipio knew how
+misleading and how wild many of the reports which flew about Suffering
+Creek were. Besides, he was certain that Bill's information about his
+claim, wherever he had got it from, was inaccurate. Yes, no doubt this
+was what he wanted to talk about, and the honest-minded man promptly
+decided that the gambler should have no cause to blame him. He need
+have no doubts. He would by no means hold him to the bargain. He would
+return the money--
+
+Suddenly he remembered. He had already spent five dollars of it, and
+he went hot and cold at the thought. He had nothing with which to
+replace it.
+
+However, he took no further thought, and, as Bill still remained
+silent, he plunged into the matter at once.
+
+"I got most all the money with me," he began, in his vague way
+expecting the other to understand his meaning. "That is, all but fi'
+dollars. Y'see, the kids needed--"
+
+Bill's sharp eyes reached his face with a jump.
+
+"Wot in the name o' blazes--" he cried.
+
+But Scipio did not let him continue.
+
+"I knew ther' wa'n't no gold showin' on my claim," he hurriedly
+explained. "So I'll jest hand you back your dollars."
+
+"Square-toed mackinaw!" the gambler cried, his face scarlet. Then he
+broke out into one of his harsh laughs. "Say," he went on, with
+pretended severity, "you can't squeal that way. I'm in ha'f your
+claim, an' I ain't lettin' up my holt on it fer--fer nobody an'
+nuthin'. Get that right here. You can't bluff me."
+
+Scipio flushed. He somehow felt very small. The last thing he wanted
+Bill to think was that he was trying to do him an injury.
+
+"I'm sorry," he said helplessly. "Y'see, I thought, you needing to
+talk to me so bad, you wanted, maybe, to quit my claim."
+
+He turned away, gazing down the wood-lined river. Somehow he could not
+face the gambler's stern eyes. Had he seen the sudden softening in
+them the moment the other was sure he was unobserved, he might have
+been less troubled. But the gambler had no soft side when men's eyes
+were upon him.
+
+"'Tain't about your claim I need to talk," Bill said, after a
+brief pause. His voice was less harsh, and there was an unusual
+thoughtfulness in its tone. "It's--it's--Say, Zip, I ain't fergot our
+talk out there on the trail." He nodded his head out in the
+direction of Spawn City. "You mind that talk when you was puttin' up
+that fool proposition o' handin' James that kid?"
+
+Scipio's eyes had come back to his companion, and their expression had
+suddenly dropped to one of hopeless regret. His heart was stirred to
+its depths by the reference to the past trouble which lay like a
+cankerous sore so deep down in it.
+
+He nodded. But otherwise he had no words.
+
+"You're needin' your wife?" Bill went on brusquely.
+
+Again Scipio nodded. But this time words came, too.
+
+"But you was right," he said. "I saw it all after. I was plumb wrong.
+An'--an' I ain't holding you to--what you said. You jest wanted to put
+me right. I understood that--after."
+
+Bill stirred uneasily, and kicked a protruding limb of the tree on
+which he sat.
+
+"You're a heap ready to let me out," he cried, with a return to his
+harshest manner. "Who in blazes are you to say I don't need to do
+the--things I said I'd do? Jest wait till you're ast to." He turned
+away, and Scipio was left troubled and wondering.
+
+But suddenly the lean body swung round again, and the little
+prospector felt the burning intensity of the man's eyes as they
+concentrated on his flushing face.
+
+"You're needin' your wife?" he jerked out.
+
+"More'n all the world," the little man cried, with emotion.
+
+"Would you put up a--a scrap fer her?"
+
+"With anybody."
+
+The corners of Bill's mouth wrinkled, but his eyes remained hard and
+commanding. Whatever feelings of an appreciative nature lay behind his
+lean face they were well hidden.
+
+"You'd face James an' all his gang--again? You'd face him if it sure
+meant--death?"
+
+"The chance o' death wouldn't stop me if I could get her back."
+
+The quiet of the little man's tone carried a conviction far greater
+than any outburst could have done.
+
+"An' she's been--his?"
+
+Scipio took a deep breath. His hands clenched. Just for a moment the
+whites of his eyes became bloodshot with some rush of tremendous
+feeling. It seemed as though he were about to break out into verbal
+expression of his agony of heart. But when he finally did speak it was
+in the same even tone, though his breath came hard and deep.
+
+"I want her--whatever she is," he said quietly.
+
+Bill rose to his feet, and a passionate light shone in his sparkling
+eyes.
+
+"Then take Minky's mule an' buckboard. Start right out fer James'
+ranch before sun-up Wednesday mornin', an'--you'll sure get her. Come
+on."
+
+Scipio sprang to his feet, and a dozen hot questions leapt to his
+mind. An ocean of gratitude was struggling to pour from his inadequate
+tongue, but Bill would have none of it. He waved him aside and set off
+for their destination, and the other could only follow. But at the
+farther edge of the clearing again the gambler paused. This time a
+sudden thought had changed his plans. He turned abruptly, and without
+one particle of softening in his manner he ordered him back.
+
+"Say," he cried, "ther' ain't no use fer you to get around further.
+You ken jest light back to the store, an' see to them kids. Don't you
+never let 'em out o' your sight till Wednesday come. Then hit out fer
+James' ranch."
+
+When Wild Bill eventually reached the claim, he found Sandy sitting on
+an upturned bucket amidst the most deplorable surroundings in which a
+gold prospector in quest of the precious metal could ever hope to find
+himself.
+
+The creek bank was some two hundred yards away, with a pronounced
+rising ground between him and it. Behind him was a great cut-faced
+rock of ironstone that certainly looked auriferous. The base of it lay
+in a definite hollow, reed-grown and oozy. Beyond him, to the right,
+following the river bank, the ground declined gradually towards a
+black-looking, turgid and overgrown swamp. While, from the direction
+in which the gambler approached, a low, dense, thorny bush grew, made
+up of branches almost skeleton in their lack of leaves. It was a
+forlorn and uninviting spot, calculated to dishearten anybody with a
+heart less big and an enthusiasm less vital than Scipio's.
+
+Bill stood for a moment surveying the scene before Sandy realized his
+presence. And that first glance set him snorting contemptuously.
+
+"Well, say--" he began. But words failed him, and he hurried across to
+his "hired" man.
+
+Sandy jumped up as he came near, and before the other could stop him
+had poured out his opinion of things in general, and that claim in
+particular, in a few well-chosen and effective words.
+
+"Say, Zip orter sure be shot or hanged," he cried angrily, "an' this
+doggone claim o' mud needs to be boosted through a dogasted volcany
+an' blowed out the other side o' no sort o' place at all. Ther' sure
+ain't nuthin' worse in the world than the foolishness of a tow-headed
+fool."
+
+But Bill ignored the outburst.
+
+"How much gold you found?" he inquired coldly.
+
+Sandy's indignant eyes blazed.
+
+"Gold? Pea-shucks!" he roared, with a furious oath. "An' I tell you
+right here I ain't to be made no fool of. You ken take this
+mule-headed job an'--an'--well, you ken take it. I quit right here."
+
+But again Bill ignored his outburst. There was not a vestige of
+expression in his face as he moved across to the mouth of a shaft
+Scipio had been sinking before his work had been interrupted by the
+going of his wife. He looked into it and pointed.
+
+"Guess you best get right on makin' this hole deeper. Ther' ain't
+nuthin' like diggin' to find out. Zip's sure a wise guy. I don't guess
+I know what you'll likely find--but--you best kep diggin'. That's sure
+his notion."
+
+Sandy went purple in the face, and spluttered violently in his attempt
+to speak. Finally, when he did get his words out, it was only to
+repeat his decision.
+
+"It's jest a mud swamp," he cried, "an' I quit."
+
+Bill turned swiftly. His movements were almost cat-like as he came up
+and peered into Sandy's face.
+
+"You'll kep right on diggin' that hole," he said, with an icy threat.
+"An' come Wednesday you'll quit diggin' an' hit the trail on Zip's
+track--you an' Sunny an' Toby--an' you'll sure see no harm comes to
+him. But he ain't to see you, nor to know you're chasin' him. An' you
+ain't to stop him, no matter what fool trick he gets playin'. Get
+me?"
+
+Sandy's choler died out before the other's purpose. He suddenly
+realized that his work on the claim was not of any great consequence
+to his employer, that Bill had other thoughts, other schemes in his
+head, and that he, Sandy, was to have his place in them. He nodded.
+
+"I get you," he said. "But--"
+
+"Ther' ain't no 'buts,'" interrupted Bill. "You're goin' to do as I
+sez. Meanwhiles you're goin' right on diggin' that hole, to earn your
+dollars."
+
+And without another word he turned and hurried away towards the mouth
+of the trail whence he had appeared.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+SUSPENSE
+
+
+It was nearly sundown. A chilly mist was stealing down the slopes of
+the surrounding hills. It densified to a ruddy fog as it caught the
+glow of the evening sun, and finally settled upon the valley. And with
+each passing moment the hills seemed to recede, their outlines to grow
+more indistinct and ghostly. And gradually the whole prospect took on
+the depressing aspect of a day dying wearily.
+
+Had Jessie been less preoccupied as she stood at the door of the
+ranch-house she might have felt something of all this. But she heeded
+nothing of the hour, and saw nothing of the picture before her. Her
+eyes only visualized the scenes that a world of troubled and
+apprehensive thought yielded her. Her mind and heart were full of a
+great terror, a terror which left her helpless and dazed.
+
+She stirred restlessly. Time and again she changed her position. Now
+she was leaning against one casing of the doorway, now against the
+other. A nervous glance over her shoulder, as some sound in the
+darkness of the room behind her set her shivering, told of the
+state of her nerves, as also, with ears ever on the alert, her
+fearful glances at a definite spot in the rapidly dimming hills told
+of a straining, harassed expectancy. Her nerves were almost at
+breaking-point. Her handsome face was drawn and haggard. All the
+youthful freshness seemed to have vanished from it forever, leaving
+her radiant eyes shadowed and hopeless. It was a painful change. But
+the outward and visible signs were nothing to the changes that had
+taken place within her.
+
+Thirty yards away a decrepit choreman was making pretense of some work
+upon a corral fence. But it was only pretense. His real occupation was
+espionage. His red-rimmed eyes never for a moment lost sight of his
+master's woman when she showed herself in the open. A curious-looking
+dog of immense proportions, half mastiff, half Newfoundland, squatted
+on its haunches at his side, alternating his green-eyed attention
+between a watchful regard for the hand that fed and thrashed it and
+the woman at the doorway. There was not much to choose between the
+faces of these wardens of the ranch. Both were cruel, both were
+intensely vicious. In neither pair of eyes was there any friendliness
+for the woman. And it needed little imagination to understand that
+both possessed to the full all the instincts of the savage watch-dog.
+
+But Jessie had no thought for either. Her own terrible thoughts and
+feelings held her. It is doubtful if she was even aware of their
+presence at all. Just now one thought stood out dominant in her mind.
+She was expecting the return of--James. And the return of James
+meant--She shuddered.
+
+He was returning from his expedition in the neighborhood of Suffering
+Creek, and this knowledge brought with it the remembrance that his
+object was to give her possession of at least one of her children.
+Distracted as she was with her mother's desire for possession of her
+offspring, although the man was now only obeying her expressed wishes,
+she dreaded the child's coming almost as much as she dreaded her
+lover's return. The thought of seeing Vada in this man's arms maddened
+her to such a degree that she was well-nigh beside herself.
+
+For two whole days now had she brooded under a cloud of despair. She
+had scarcely stirred out of her room; she had eaten scarcely enough to
+sustain life. She had shut herself up, a prey to harrowing remorse and
+terror--a remorse which she knew to be as useless as her terror was
+nerve-racking. Her awakening had come, sudden, awful. And, like all
+such awakenings, it had come too late, so that the horror of her
+future was written in letters of fire before her mental eyes, a fire
+which burnt into her broken heart and left her in the depths of an
+unutterable despair.
+
+It was on the morning of her lover's departure for the region of
+Suffering Creek that the awakening had come. It had come with an
+overwhelming rush of horror which, in the midst of her dressing, had
+sent her reeling and fainting upon the bed from which she had only
+just risen, and where for two hours she had subsequently lain in a
+state of collapse.
+
+She was brushing her hair, her mind busy with the pleasant thought
+that shortly she was to have one of her children with her again. She
+knew that her appeal to her husband had failed, but James had sworn to
+keep his promise, and now he was setting out for that expressed
+purpose. And such was her foolish woman's blind faith that she had no
+doubts. When he returned he was to bring, at least, little Vada with
+him. The fresh mountain air was doubly pleasant to her that morning.
+The brilliant sunlight raised her spirits. All qualms of conscience
+were thrust into the background, and she was as nearly happy as
+earthly interest could make her.
+
+She could see the crowded corrals from where she stood. She could hear
+the bellowing of the restless cattle as they pushed and horned each
+other in their forceful, bovine desire to get out to the succulent
+grass of their beloved pastures. All the men were astir, preparing for
+their lawless expedition. The saddle-horses, ready for the trail, were
+hitched to the corral fences. Through the open window she could hear
+her lover ordering and hectoring, as was his way of dealing with the
+ruffians who served under his leadership; and a thrill of excitement,
+a subtle sympathy, stirred her. She moved to the window, leaving her
+beautiful hair flowing in the bright air, and stood watching for the
+departure.
+
+Then came that hideous thing which was to shadow all her future life.
+It came almost without warning. In a flash, it seemed, the last tinge
+of romance was swept from her thoughts, and the hideous skeleton of
+reality was laid bare.
+
+The men had tightened up the cinchas of their saddles, and passed the
+reins over their horses' heads, ready to mount. She watched them all
+with something very like admiration in her blinded eyes. Their hard,
+desperate faces did not appear so to her. These things, in her foolish
+mind, were the hall-mark of reckless courage, of strong, virile
+manhood. They were men who feared nothing, who cared no more for their
+own lives than they would care for the life of an enemy. And somehow
+this seemed to her just as it should be.
+
+She waited to see them mount their raw-boned bronchos. But somehow
+there was a delay; and in this delay a change came over the scene. The
+men drifted away from their horses and gathered into groups. They
+stood whispering together with faces averted from their leader. A
+feeling of apprehension somehow caught hold of her. She did not
+understand why, but she felt that all was not right. She turned to
+James, and saw that he was moving round his horse all unconcernedly,
+and she wondered if he were aware of the change in his men.
+
+But all further speculation was abruptly checked, for at that moment
+she heard the leader issue one of his sharp orders. She did not quite
+catch his words, but she noticed that no one moved or attempted to
+comply. Only talk ceased instantly. Then she saw the handsome face of
+her lover flush, as he glanced about him at this unusual phenomenon,
+and in a moment she recognized the sudden savage anger that flashed
+into his eyes. Simultaneously his hand dropped to the butt of one of
+his guns.
+
+Then she heard his words, as they were shouted to the accompaniment of
+a string of vicious oaths.
+
+"Ho, you, Ned, an' you, too, Sully!" he cried fiercely, "get your ears
+flappin'. Huyk that rotten skunk Conroy out. I ain't tellin' you
+again."
+
+The woman had thrilled at his words. There was such command, such
+fearlessness in them, in his whole poise. She felt, too, that there
+was trouble looming. There was rebellion in the air. Her excitement
+rose, and her sympathies were all for this one man.
+
+The two men indicated suddenly bestirred themselves, and moved off
+under their leader's eye. The rest drifted together--eight of them,
+she found herself counting. And as they drew together a murmur arose.
+
+Instantly James' gun flew from its holster; and he stood, the
+personification of cold authority.
+
+"Another word an' I empty this into your lousy hides!" she heard him
+cry. And instantly the murmur died out.
+
+But the threatening weapon did not return to its holster. James stood
+there waiting. And presently she beheld the two men he had despatched
+returning, bringing in their custody, tottering awkwardly between
+them, the man Abe Conroy, with his arms tightly fastened behind his
+back, and a pair of horse-hobbles securing his ankles. They came
+slowly, for the hobbles allowed but little play, and halted less than
+five yards away from their leader.
+
+As they paused the woman shivered. Some premonition of what was about
+to happen got hold of her, and struck terror to her heart. She stood
+staring now, unable to move. A hideous fascination seemed to paralyze
+her.
+
+The next thing that reached her comprehension was that James was
+speaking in a harsh metallic voice. She had never heard him speak like
+that before, and her fears swiftly increased as his words floated in
+through the open window.
+
+"Now, you skunk," he was saying, "you guess you're man enough to run
+this lay-out. You guess you're a bigger man than me. You guess you got
+me squealin' around like a suckin' kid. You! An' I took you out o'
+jail, wher' they was goin' to set you swingin'. Gee! I could tell you
+a heap, but I ain't no time talkin' to bastards of your kidney.
+Swingin's too good fer sech as you. Anyway, when I got work to do I do
+it myself. Here, you, Ned, an' you, Sully, stand aside!"
+
+She saw the two men withdraw. She wanted to scream, without quite
+knowing why. But no sound came. Her eyes were starting out of her head
+with the horror of what she knew to be about to happen. But she had no
+power to stir hand or foot.
+
+She saw James move forward. She saw the bloodless, horror-stricken
+face of the prisoner. She saw him stumble as he attempted to move
+away. There was no escape.
+
+James moved forward with body crouching, and strides that covered the
+intervening space with almost feline stealth.
+
+He came right up to the man, his gun leading. She heard a report and
+one dreadful cry of terror and pain. She saw Conroy crumple and fall
+writhing upon the ground. She saw the blood streaming from his
+stomach. Then the further horror came to her staring eyes as she saw
+James stand over his victim and fire shot after shot into the hideous,
+writhing heap.
+
+But the limit was reached. With one wild scream she turned away and
+flung herself upon her bed; and the next moment everything mercifully
+became a blank to her.
+
+That was on the Sunday morning. She saw nothing of what followed. She
+knew nothing until she awoke some two hours later to the haunting
+vision of the scene she had witnessed. And ever since it had clung to
+her--clung like an obsession, a mental parasite sapping her nerve, her
+very reason. Nor had she power to disassociate herself from it.
+
+And now she was waiting in an agony of mind for the murderer's
+return. Not only was she waiting for his return, but she expected to
+see him bearing in his arms one of her own innocent children. The
+thought of little Vada in his arms drove her frantic. Her innocent
+little Vada in the arms of this cold-blooded assassin!
+
+She knew him now for all he was. The scales had fallen from her
+foolish eyes. All the romance of his hideous calling had passed in a
+flash, and she saw it as it was. She had no words to express her
+feelings of horror and revolting. In her weakness and wickedness she
+had torn herself out of the life of a good man to fling herself upon
+the bosom of this black-hearted villain. She loathed him; she loathed
+his very name. But more than all else she loathed herself. Her
+punishment was terrible. She was so helpless, so powerless. She knew
+it, and the knowledge paralyzed her thought. What could she do? She
+knew she was watched, and any move to get away would be at once
+frustrated. She could do nothing--nothing.
+
+No longer able to remain in her room, she had come out to breathe air
+which she vainly hoped was less contaminated with the crimes of the
+man whose home she had elected to share. But inside or out it made no
+difference. The haunting was not of the place. It was in her mind; it
+had enveloped her whole consciousness.
+
+But through it all there was one longing, one yearning for all that
+she had lost, all she had wantonly thrown away. Suffering Creek, with
+its poverty-stricken home on the dumps, suggested paradise to her now.
+She yearned as only a mother can yearn for the warm caresses of her
+children. She longed for the honest love of the little man whom, in
+the days of her arrogant womanhood, she had so mercilessly despised.
+All his patient kindliness came back to her now. All his tremendous,
+if misdirected, effort on her behalf, his never-failing loyalty and
+courage, were things which to her, in her misery, were the most
+blessed of all blessings. She wanted home--home. And in that one
+bitter cry of her heart was expressed the awakening of her real
+womanhood.
+
+But it had come too late--too late. There was no home now for her but
+the home of this man. There was no husband for her, only the illicit
+love of this man. Her children--she could only obtain them by a theft.
+And as this last thought came to her she remembered who it was who
+must commit the theft.
+
+The thought brought a fresh terror. How would he accomplish his end?
+Had not Scipio tacitly refused to yield up her children? Then
+how--how? She shivered. She knew the means James would readily,
+probably only too gladly, adopt. Her husband, the little harmless man
+who had always loved her, would be swept aside like anyone else who
+stood in the way. James would shoot him down as he had shot Conroy
+down; even, she fancied, he would shoot him down for the wanton
+amusement of destroying his life.
+
+Oh no, no! It was too horrible. He was her husband, the first man she
+had ever cared for. She thought of all they had been to each other.
+Her mind sped swiftly over past scenes which had so long been
+forgotten. She remembered his gentleness, his kindly thought for her,
+his self-effacement where her personal comforts were in question, his
+devotion both to herself and her children. Every detail of their
+disastrous married life sped swiftly before her straining mental
+vision, leaving the man standing out something greater than a hero to
+her yearning heart. And she had flung it all away in a moment of
+passion. She had blinded herself in the arrogance of her woman's
+vanity. Gone, gone. And now she was the mistress of a common
+assassin.
+
+So she lashed herself with the torture of repentance and regret as the
+darkness fell. She did not stir from her post. The damp of the mist
+was unnoticed, the chill of the air. She was waiting for that return
+which was to claim her to an earthly hell, than which she could
+conceive no greater--waiting like the condemned prisoner, numb,
+helpless, fearful lest the end should come unobserved.
+
+The ranch wardens waited, too. The man cursed his charge with all the
+hatred of an evil nature, as the damp penetrated to his mean bones.
+The dog, too, grew restless, but where his master was, there was his
+place. He had long since learned that--to his cost.
+
+The night crept on, and there was no change in the position, except
+that the man sought the sheltering doorway of one of the barns, and
+covered his damp shirt with a jacket. But the woman did not move. She
+was beyond all conception of time. She was beyond any thought of
+personal comfort or fatigue. All she knew was that she must wait--wait
+for the coming of her now hated lover, that at least she might snatch
+her child from his contaminating arms. And after that--well, after
+that--She had no power to think of the afterwards.
+
+The moon rose amidst the obscurity of the fog. It mounted, and at last
+reached a height where its silvery light could no longer be denied by
+the low-lying mists. But its reign was brief. Its cold splendor
+rapidly began to shrink before the pink dawn, and in less than two
+hours it was but a dim white circle set in the azure of the new-born
+day.
+
+Still the woman remained at her post, her dark eyes straining with her
+vigil. She was drenched to the skin with the night-mists, but the
+chill of her body was nothing to the chill of her heart. The spy was
+still at his post in the barn doorway, but he was slumbering, as was
+his canine servitor, lying curled up at his feet. The sun rose, the
+mists cleared. And now the warming of day stirred the cattle in the
+corrals.
+
+Suddenly the waiting woman started. Her attention had never once
+relaxed. She moved out with stiffened joints, and, shading her eyes
+with her hand, stared into the gleaming sunlight. Her ears had caught
+the distant thud of horses' hoofs, and now her eyes confirmed. Away
+down the valley she could see the dim outline of a number of horsemen
+riding towards the ranch.
+
+Her heart began to thump in her bosom, and her limbs quaked under her.
+What could she do? What must she do? Every thought, every idea that
+her long vigil had suggested was swept from her mind. A blank
+helplessness held her in its grip. She could only wait for what was to
+come.
+
+The pounding of hoofs grew louder, the figures grew bigger. They were
+riding out of the sun, and her eyes were almost blinded as she looked
+for that which she trembled to behold. She could not be certain of
+anything yet, except that the return of her lover was at hand.
+
+Nearer, nearer they came. Nearer, nearer still. Then suddenly a sharp
+exclamation broke from the watcher. It was a cry which had in it a
+strange thrill. It might have been the gasp of the condemned man at
+the sound of the word "reprieve." It might have been the cry of one
+momentarily relieved from years of suffering.
+
+She could see them plainly. For now the figures were no longer
+silhouetted against the sun. They had changed their course as they
+neared the ranch, and the rising sun was well clear. She could even
+recognize them by their horses. She counted. There were ten of them.
+One was missing. Who? But her interest was only momentary. She
+recognized the leader, and after that nothing else concerned her.
+
+She could not mistake him. He sat his dark brown horse differently to
+anybody else. He looked to be part of it. But there was no admiration
+in her eyes. And yet there was an expression in them that had not been
+in them since his departure. There was hope in her eyes, and something
+akin to joy in her whole attitude. James was riding empty-handed!
+
+Hence her cry. But now she glanced swiftly at each horseman, to be
+sure that they, too, were empty-handed. Yes, each man was riding with
+the loose swinging arms of the prairie man. And with a sigh that
+contained in it every expression of an unbounded relief she turned and
+vanished into the house. For the time, at least, Vada was safe.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+JAMES
+
+
+James clattered into the empty sitting-room and stared about him. His
+dark face was flushed with excitement. The savage in him was stirred
+to its best mood, but it was still the savage. He grinned as he
+realized that the room was empty, and it was a grin of amusement. Some
+thought in his mind gave him satisfaction, in spite of the fact that
+there was no one to greet him.
+
+The grin passed and left him serious. Even his excitement had abated.
+He had remembered Jessie's scream at the scene she must have
+witnessed. He remembered that he had left her fainting. With another
+quick glance round he stood and called--
+
+"Ho, you! Jess!"
+
+There was no answer; and he called again, this time his handsome face
+darkening. He had seen her from a distance outside the house, so there
+was no doubt of her being about.
+
+Still he received no answer.
+
+An oath followed. But just as he was about to call again he heard the
+sound of a skirt beyond the inner door. Instantly he checked his
+impulse, and where before his swift-rising anger had shone in his eyes
+a smile now greeted Jessie as she opened the door and entered the
+room.
+
+For a moment no verbal greeting passed between them. The man was
+taking in every detail of her face and figure, much as a connoisseur
+may note the points of some precious purchase he is about to make, or
+a glutton may contemplate a favorite dish. He saw nothing in her face
+of the effects of the strain through which she had passed. To him her
+eyes were the same wonderful, passionate depths that had first drawn
+his reckless manhood to flout every risk in hunting his quarry down.
+Her lips were the same rich, moist, enticing lips he had pressed to
+his in those past moments of passion. The rounded body was unchanged.
+Yes, she was very desirable.
+
+But he was too sure of his ground to notice that there was no
+responsive admiration in the woman's eyes. And perhaps it was as well.
+She was looking at him with eyes wide open to what he really was, and
+all the revolting of her nature was uppermost. She loathed him as she
+might some venomous reptile. She loathed him and feared him. His body
+might have been the body of an Apollo, his face the most perfect of
+God's creations. She knew him now for the cold-blooded murderer he
+was, and so she loathed and feared him.
+
+There were stains upon his cotton shirt-sleeves, upon the bosom of it
+showing between the fronts of his unbuttoned waistcoat. There were
+stains upon his white moleskin trousers.
+
+"Blood," she said, pointing. And something of her feelings must have
+been plain to any but his infatuated ears.
+
+He laughed. It was a cruel laugh.
+
+"Sure," he cried. "It was a great scrap. We took nigh a hundred head
+of Sid Morton's cattle and burnt him out."
+
+"And the blood?"
+
+"Guess it must be his, or--Luke Tedby's." His face suddenly darkened.
+"That mutton-headed gambler over on Suffering Creek did him up. I had
+to carry him to shelter--after he got away."
+
+But Jessie paid little attention. She was following up her own
+thought.
+
+"It isn't--Conroy's?"
+
+James' eyes grew cold.
+
+"That seems to worry you some," he cried coldly. Then he put the thing
+aside with a laugh. "You'll get used to that sort of talk after you've
+been here awhile. Say, Jes--"
+
+"I can never get used to--murder."
+
+The woman's eyes were alight with a somber fire. She had no idea of
+whither her words and feelings were carrying her. All her best
+feelings were up in arms, and she, too, was touched now with the
+reckless spirit which drove these people. There was no hope for her
+future. There was no hope whithersoever she looked. And now that she
+had seen her children were still safe from the life she had flung
+herself into, she cared very little what happened to her.
+
+But the cruel despot, to whom life and death were of no account
+whatsoever, was not likely to deal tenderly long with the woman he
+desired did she prove anything but amenable. Now her words stung him
+as they were meant to sting, and his mouth hardened.
+
+"You're talking foolish," he cried in that coldly metallic way she had
+heard him use before. "Conroy got all he needed. Maybe he deserved
+more. Anyhow, ther's only one man running this lay-out, and I'm surely
+that man. Say--" again he changed. This time it was a change back to
+something of the lover she knew, and at once he became even more
+hateful to her--"things missed fire at--the Creek. I didn't get hands
+on your kids. I--"
+
+"I'm glad." Jessie could have shouted aloud her joy, but the man's
+look of surprise brought caution, and she qualified her words. "No;
+we'd best leave them, after all," she said. "You see, these men--"
+
+She looked fearlessly into his face. She was acting as only a woman
+can act when the object of her affections is threatened.
+
+And her lover warmed all unsuspiciously. It would have been better for
+her had she only realized her power over him. But she was not clever.
+She was not even brave.
+
+James nodded.
+
+"Sure," he said; and with that monosyllable dismissed the subject from
+his mind for matters that gave him savage delight. "Say, we've had a
+good round-up," he went on--"a dandy haul. But we're going to do
+better--Oh yes, much better." Then his smile died out. He had almost
+forgotten the woman in the contemplation of what he had in his mind.
+This man was wedded to his villainies. They came before all else.
+Jessie was his; he was sure of her. She was his possession, and he
+took her for granted now. The excitement of his trade had once again
+become paramount.
+
+"Guess Sufferin' Creek has gone plumb crazy," he went on delightedly.
+"I've had boys around to keep me posted. They been spotting things.
+Old Minky has been sittin' so tight I guessed I'd have to raid the
+store for his gold; an' now they've opened out. That buzzy-headed old
+fool's goin' to send out a stage loaded down with dust. It starts
+Wednesday morning, an' he guesses it's to win through to Spawn City.
+Gee! An' they're shoutin' about it. Say, Jess, they say it's to carry
+sixty thousand dollars. Well, it won't carry it far. That's why I'm
+back here now. That's why I quit worrying with your kids when Wild
+Bill did up Luke. We hustled home to change our plugs, an' are hittin'
+the trail again right away. Sixty thousand dollars! Gee! what a haul!
+Say, when I've taken that"--he moved a step nearer and dropped his
+voice--"we're goin' to clear out of this--you an' me. Those guys out
+there ain't never going to touch a cent. You leave that to me. We'll
+hit for New Mexico, and to hell with the north country. Say, Jess,
+ain't that fine? Fine?" he went on, with a laugh. "It's fine as you
+are."
+
+She had no answer for him. And he went on quite heedlessly, lost in
+admiration of his own scheme, and joy at the prospect.
+
+"We'll settle down to an elegant little ranch, most respectable like.
+You can go to church. Ha, ha! Yes, you can go to church all reg'lar.
+You can make clothes fer the poor, an' go to sociables an' things. An'
+meanwhiles I can slip across the border and gather up a few
+things--just to keep my hand in--"
+
+"What time are we gettin' out?"
+
+James swung round with the alertness of a panther. One of the men was
+standing in the doorway, a burly ruffian whose face was turned to his
+leader, but whose cruel eyes were rudely fixed on the woman.
+
+"In ha'f-an-hour," cried James, with a swift return to his harsh
+command. "Tell the boys to vittle for three days an' roll a blanket.
+We'll need 'em fer sleep. An', say," he cried, with sudden threat,
+"don't you git around here again till I call you. Get me?"
+
+There was no mistaking his anger at the interruption. There was no
+mistaking his meaning. The man slunk away. But as James turned back to
+the woman his previous lightness had gone, and his ill-humor found
+savage expression.
+
+"There's someone else needing a lesson besides Conroy," he snarled.
+
+Jessie shivered.
+
+"He didn't mean harm," she protested weakly.
+
+"Harm? Harm? He was staring at you. You ain't fer sech scum as him to
+stare at. I'll have to teach him."
+
+The man was lashing himself to that merciless fury Jessie had once
+before witnessed, and now she foolishly strove to appease him. She
+laughed. It was a forced laugh, but it served her purpose, for the
+man's brow cleared instantly, and his thoughts diverted to a full
+realization of her presence, and all she meant to him.
+
+"You can laugh," he said, his eyes darkening with sudden lustful
+passion. "But I can't have folks--starin' at you. Say, Jess, you don't
+know, you can't think, how I feel about you. You're jest mine--mine."
+His teeth clipped together with the force of his emotion. The brute in
+him urged him as madly in his desire as it did in his harsher tempers.
+"I just don't care for nothing else but you. An'--I got you now. Here,
+you haven't kissed me since I came back. I'd forgot, thinking of that
+sixty thousand of gold-dust. I'm off again in ha'f-an-hour--an' I
+won't be back for three days. Here--"
+
+His arms were held out and he drew nearer. But now the woman drew back
+in unmistakable horror.
+
+"Say," he cried in a voice still passionate, yet half angry, "you
+don't need to get away. Ther's a wall back of you." Then, as she still
+shrank back, and he saw the obvious terror in her eyes, his
+swift-changing mood lost its warmth of passion and left it only angry.
+"Ther's three other walls an' a door to this room, an' I can easy shut
+the door."
+
+He reached out and caught her by one arm. He swung her to him as
+though she were a child. There was no escape. She struggled to free
+herself, but her strength was as the strength of a babe to his, and in
+a moment she was caught in his arms and hugged to his breast. She
+writhed to free herself, but her efforts made no impression. And,
+having possession of her, the man laughed. It was not a pleasant
+laugh. He looked down at her. Her head was thrown back to avoid him.
+His hot eyes grinned tantalizingly into her face.
+
+"It's no use," he said. "You got to kiss me. You're mine. No, no,
+don't you bother to kick any. You can't get away. Now, Jess, kiss me.
+Kiss me good--good an' plenty." His arms crushed her closer. "What,
+you won't? You won't kiss me? Ha, ha! Maybe that's why you ran back
+into the house when I come along. Maybe that's why you wouldn't answer
+when I called. What's come to you?"
+
+He held her, waiting for a reply. But the woman was beyond speech in
+her horror and rage. She was no longer terrified. She was beside
+herself with fury and revolting. She hated the crushing arms about
+her--the arms of a murderer. That one word stood out in her mind,
+maddening her. She would not kiss him. She could not. She gasped and
+struggled. She wanted to shriek for help, but that, she knew, was
+useless.
+
+"Let me go!" she cried, her voice hoarse with a fury equal to anything
+he was capable of.
+
+But she only held her the tighter; he only grinned the more. He, too,
+was furious. He, too, meant to have his way. He was determined she
+should submit.
+
+Submission, however, was the farthest from her thoughts. He bent his
+head forward. It came nearer to her up-thrown chin.
+
+"Let me go! Let me go, you--you--murderer!"
+
+It was out. She had no longer any power of restraint. And as the word
+hissed upon the air the man's whole body seemed to suddenly stiffen.
+His arms tightened, and she felt her ribs bend under their terrific
+pressure.
+
+"Murderer, eh?" she heard him cry, with an oath. "Murderer, eh? Now
+you shall kiss me. Kiss me, you wild-cat--kiss me!"
+
+As he spoke one hand was lifted to the back of her head. He pressed it
+forward, and she was forced slowly, slowly, fighting every inch of the
+way to keep her face out of reach of his lips. His face drew nearer
+hers. She felt his hot breath upon her cheeks. She shut her eyes to
+keep the sight of his hated, terrifying eyes out, but ever his lips
+came nearer.
+
+"What's come over you, you little fool?" he cried fiercely. "What is
+it? Now, by hell! whatever it is, you shall--you shall kiss me."
+
+With a sudden exertion of his great strength he crushed her face to
+his, and the next instant flung her from him with a fierce cry of pain
+and rage.
+
+"You--!" he shouted, as she fell in a heap against the wall.
+
+The blood was streaming from his cheek where her strong teeth had
+bitten deep into the flesh. His hand went up to the mauled flesh, and
+murder glared out of his eyes as he contemplated her huddled figure
+lying motionless where he had flung her. And for one second it looked
+as though he intended to complete the work he had begun, and kill her
+where she lay, in the same manner in which he had treated the luckless
+Conroy.
+
+He stared insanely at her for some moments. Then a change came over
+him, and he turned to the door.
+
+"When I come back, my girl! When I come back!" he muttered threateningly.
+
+At the door he paused and looked back. But his look was mercifully
+hidden from his victim by unconsciousness.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+THE GOLD-STAGE
+
+
+Two days of excitement were quite sufficient to upset the nerves of
+Suffering Creek. The only excitement it was used to was the sudden
+discovery of an extra good find of gold. The camp understood that. It
+was like an inspiration to the creative worker. It stimulated the
+energies, it uplifted. Any other sort of excitement had a paralyzing
+effect. And thus the excitement of the present Sunday and Monday
+entirely upset the rest of the week's work.
+
+Everybody felt that the happenings of those days were merely the
+forerunners of something yet to come, of something even more
+startling. And the restlessness of uncertainty as to its nature kept
+the population hanging about the camp, fearful that, in their absence,
+things might occur, and they would miss participation in them.
+
+The inhabitants of Suffering Creek were a virile race, strongly human,
+full of interest in passing events, and men of appetite for any slices
+of life that might come their way. So, having "cashed in" to the
+"limit" all the gold-dust they possessed, they felt they were entitled
+to spend a few days in watching events, and a few dollars in passing
+the time until such events, if any, should come within their range of
+vision.
+
+What events were expected it is doubtful if the most inventive could
+have put into words. The general opinion expressed--out of Minky's
+hearing, of course, but to the accompaniment of deep libations of
+his most execrable whisky--was that, personally, that astute trader
+was, for some unaccountable reason, rapidly qualifying for the
+"bug-house," and that the only thing due from them was to display
+their loyalty to him by humoring him to the extent of discounting
+all the "dust" they could lay hands on, and wishing him well out of
+the trouble he seemed bent on laying up for himself. Meanwhile they
+would take a holiday on the proceeds of their traffic, and, out of
+sheer good-fellowship, stand by to help, or at least applaud, when
+the _denouement_ came.
+
+Many of the shrewder men looked to Wild Bill to give a key to the
+situation. They knew him to be Minky's closest friend. Besides that,
+he was a man intensely "wide" and far-seeing in matters pertaining to
+such a situation as at present existed.
+
+But Wild Bill, in this case, was the blankest of blanks in the lottery
+of their draw for information. Whether this blankness was real or
+affected men could not make up their minds. The gambler was so unlike
+his usual self. The hard, rough, autocratic manner of the man seemed
+to have undergone a subtle change. He went about full of geniality and
+a lightness his fellow-citizens had never before observed in him. And,
+besides, he had suddenly become the only man in the place who seemed
+to lack interest in the doings of the James gang. Even beyond the bare
+facts of the outrage down by the river on Sunday morning, he could not
+be cajoled into discussing that individual or his doings.
+
+No, his immediate interest apparently lay in his newly purchased
+half-claim. He spent the Monday afternoon there watching the unwilling
+Sandy sweating at his labors. And on the Tuesday he even passed him a
+helping hand. It did not occur to these men that Bill kept away to
+avoid their cross-questionings. It only seemed to them that his new
+toy had a greater fascination for him than those things which made for
+the welfare of the community; that his inexperienced eyes were blinded
+to the facts which were patent enough to them: namely, that he had
+bought the most worthless property in the district.
+
+So they laughed, behind his back, and shrugged their great shoulders
+pityingly, and their pity was also touched with resentment that his
+interest in Suffering Creek could be so easily diverted. It was Joe
+Brand who handed them a most excellent laugh on the subject, though
+the laugh was rather _at_ than _with_ him.
+
+He was talking to Van and White and several other men at one of the
+tables in the store. Whisky had brightened his eyes, which had been
+quietly smiling for some time as the talk of Bill went round. Then he
+suddenly bent forward and arrested the general attention.
+
+"Say, boys," he cried, "here's a good one for you. What's the
+diff'rence between Wild Bill and Minky?"
+
+Van promptly guffawed.
+
+"Gee!" he cried, "ther' ain't none. They're sure both 'bug.'"
+
+A great laugh greeted the retort, but Joe shook his head.
+
+"That sure ain't the answer, but it's real bright," he admitted
+reluctantly, while Van preened himself.
+
+"Guess they're both that wise they don't know if they're comin' down
+or goin' up," he went on, seeking to add to the score he felt he had
+made.
+
+But Joe felt he was being robbed of the fruits of his effort, and
+promptly insisted upon his riddle.
+
+"What's the diff'rence between Wild Bill an' Minky?" he asked again,
+this time with added emphasis.
+
+He waited impatiently until one of the men shook his head, when he
+snatched at the opportunity of firing his quip.
+
+"Why," he cried, with a shout of delight, "Bill's put his gold into a
+mudbank, an' Minky's jest yearnin' to set his gold into any old bank,"
+and fell back laughing furiously.
+
+But he had his merriment to himself. Van, feeling he had the company
+with him, sneered.
+
+"Gee! that's the worst ever," he cried witheringly.
+
+White spat out a chew of tobacco.
+
+"I'd say you're that bright you'd orter write comic Bible trac's," he
+declared.
+
+But even in his failure as a humorist Joe Brand gave expression to the
+general opinion of the two men who, up till that time, had been
+accounted, to use a local expression, the "wisest guys west o' Spawn
+City."
+
+Certainly, for the time being, the mighty had fallen, and their
+associates, in the persons of Sunny Oak, Toby Jenks and Sandy Joyce,
+had to stand by listening to remarks against their fellow Trust
+members which, though distinctly offensive, they yet, in justice, had
+to admit were perfectly warranted on the face of things. Even Scipio,
+mild little man as he was, had to endure considerable chaff, which
+worried and annoyed him, as to the way in which he had succeeded in
+bluffing so shrewd a "guy" as Wild Bill into purchasing half his
+claim.
+
+But these things were only sidelights on the feelings of the moment.
+Expectancy was at fever-heat, and each and every man was wondering
+what was about to happen. For though their belief in Bill and Minky
+had received a jolt, long months of experience had sown in them an
+appreciation that took a power of uprooting.
+
+The Monday and Tuesday passed without development of any sort. There
+were several conferences between the members of the Trust, but these
+were really only meetings at which the lesser members received more
+minute instructions for the carrying out of their duties on the
+Wednesday. No information otherwise was forthcoming for them from
+either Minky or the president, and all attempt to extort any was
+promptly nipped in the bud by the latter without the least compunction
+or courtesy.
+
+Sandy resented this attitude. Sunny complained of the lack of
+confidence. But Toby sat back immensely enjoying the chagrin of his
+two friends, and cordially swore that both Minky and Bill knew a
+large-meshed sieve when they saw one.
+
+Tuesday night was a memorable one on Suffering Creek. Never had there
+been such a gathering in Minky's store; and his heart must have been
+rejoiced to see the manner in which so many of the dollars he had
+expended in the purchase of gold-dust came fluttering back to their
+nest in his till. The camp appeared to have made up its mind to an
+orgy of the finest brand. Drink flowed and overflowed. The store that
+night fairly swam in whisky. The flood set in the moment supper was
+finished, and from that time until two o'clock in the morning the
+lusty storekeeper never had a moment's rest.
+
+Men drank themselves drunk, and drank themselves sober again. There
+was no poker or faro. No one wanted to gamble. There was sufficient
+gamble in their minds on the subject of to-morrow's stage to satisfy
+them for the moment. Would it get through? That was the question. And
+the general opinion was an emphatic denial.
+
+How could it? Had not scouts been sent out inquiring of outlying
+settlers as to the prospect of a clear road? Had not information come
+in that James was abroad, had been seen in a dozen different places in
+the district? Had not the belief become general that the Spawn City
+trail was being carefully watched, and even patrolled, by this common
+enemy? Everybody knew that these things were so. The whole of this
+stage business was simply flying in the face of Providence.
+
+And amidst all the comment and talk Minky served the requirements of
+his customers, wrapped in sphinx-like reserve. His geniality never
+failed him. He had a pleasant word for everybody. And at every gibe,
+at every warning, he beamed and nodded, but otherwise could not be
+drawn into controversy. One remark, and one only, had he for all and
+sundry who chose him as a butt for their pleasantries.
+
+"Wal," he declared easily, "if I ladled out good United States
+currency, to feed that bum tough James an' his crew o' hawks, seems to
+me its findin' its way home right smart."
+
+It was quite true. He stood to win in every direction. Sooner or later
+every cent of money he had paid out in the purchase of gold would find
+its way back to him, and go to help swell the fortune which was the
+effort of his life. These men had not the commercial instinct of
+Minky. And, furthermore, his meeting at night with the gambler, and
+its resulting compact, was still a secret.
+
+The popular laugh was for the moment against him, but he continued to
+smile. And he knew that his smile would last the longer. He would
+still be smiling when even the ghost of their laugh had been laid to
+rest.
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+Sore heads were no deterrent next morning. Pillows were deserted at an
+early hour. And those who had found it convenient to pass the brief
+remainder of the night in their heavy, clay-soiled boots had the
+advantage of breakfasting at the first hot rush of Birdie's
+ministrations. And Birdie, with the understanding of her kind, had
+bestowed special attention upon the quantity and quality of the
+coffee, leaving the solid side of the meal almost unconsidered. It was
+her duty to sooth parching throats, and she knew her duty.
+
+It was a glorious morning. The sun rose radiant in a cloudless sky.
+The air was still, so still. But the mountain chill began to give way
+from the first moment that the great arc of daylight lifted its
+dazzling crown above the horizon. The quiet of the morning was
+perfect. It almost seemed as if Nature itself had hushed to an
+expectant silence. The woe of the night-prowling coyote at the sight
+of the dawn found no voice. The frogs upon the creek had not yet begun
+their morning song. Even the camp dogs, whose ceaseless "yap" made
+hideous all their waking hours, for some subtle reason moved about in
+quest of their morning meal as though their success depended upon the
+stealth of their movements.
+
+Blear-eyed men appeared in their doorways half awake, and only just
+recovering from their overnight orgy. They stood for some moments
+voiceless and thoughtful. Then the concentration upon the store began.
+It was strange to look upon. It was an almost simultaneous movement.
+These half-dazed, wholly sick creatures moved with the precision of a
+universally impelling force. The store might have been one huge
+magnet--perhaps it was--and these dejected early risers mere atoms of
+steel.
+
+But the store reached, that wonderfully revivifying hair of the tail,
+etc., partaken of, and a rapid change supervened. Quarts of coffee and
+some trifling solid further stimulated jaded energies, and in less
+than an hour the memory that the day was Wednesday, and that the
+gold-stage was to set out upon its eventful journey, became the chief
+thought in every mind. Curiosity and excitement ran riot, and
+questions flew from lip to lip. How had Minky provided for the
+safeguarding of his gold? Had he arranged for an adequate escort? To
+whom was the gold to be entrusted?
+
+The store was full of men. The veranda overflowed with them. There
+were men of almost every nationality--from half-breed Mexicans,
+popularly dubbed "gorl-durned Dagos," to the stolid Briton, the virile
+New Yorker, the square-headed Teuton, the lithe, graceful prairie man
+from the Southern States. But the usual noisy discussion of the
+world's affairs, as viewed from the hidden valley in which lay
+Suffering Creek, had no vital interest just now. And, after the first
+rush of burning questions, a hush fell upon the assembly, and it
+quickly composed itself, in various attitudes and positions of
+advantage, to await, in what patience it could, the satisfying of its
+curiosity.
+
+Soon the hush became oppressive. It almost became a burden. Men
+stirred uneasily under it; they chafed. And at last Joe Brand found
+himself voicing something of the feelings of everybody. He spoke in a
+whisper which, for the life of him, he could not have raised to full
+voice. He was standing next to White, and he took him confidentially
+by the shoulder and spoke, leaning over till his lips were on a level
+with his ear.
+
+"I allow funerals is joyous things an' nigger lynchin's is real
+comic," he declared hoarsely. "But fer real rollickin' merriment I
+never see the equal o' this yer gatherin'. I sure don't think it 'ud
+damp things any ef I was to give 'em a Doxology."
+
+The miner responded with a pensive smile.
+
+"Mebbe you're right 'bout funerals an' nigger lynchin's," he whispered
+back, "but they's jest a matter o' livin' an' dyin'. Y'see, Minky's
+gamblin' sixty thousand dollars o' good red gold."
+
+Brand nodded. And somehow he appreciated the point and became easier.
+
+Later on Minky appeared in the store, and almost automatically every
+eye was turned expectantly upon him. But he had only come to ascertain
+if Wild Bill was about.
+
+No, the gambler had not been seen. Someone jocularly suggested that he
+and Zip were out visiting Sandy Joyce upon their claim. None of the
+three had been seen that morning. But the levity was allowed to pass
+without a smile, and Minky disappeared again into the back regions of
+his store.
+
+After that the time passed even more slowly. The store emptied; the
+men moved out into the sunlight to await the first sight of the stage.
+There was nothing else to do. Such was their saturation of the
+previous night that even drink had no attraction at this early hour.
+So they sat or lounged about, gazing out at the distant upland across
+the river. There lay the vanishing-point of the Spawn City trail, and
+beyond that they knew the danger-zone to lie. It was a danger-zone
+they all understood, and, hardy as they were, they could not
+understand anyone mad enough to risk a fortune of gold within its
+radius. Not one of them would have faced it singly with so little as
+twenty dollars in his pocket, much less laboring under the burden of
+sixty thousand dollars. And yet somebody was going to do so to-day.
+
+A pounding of hoofs and crunching of wheels suddenly swept all apathy
+away. Every eye lit; every head turned. And in a moment Suffering
+Creek was on its feet, agog with the intensest interest. For one brief
+moment the rattle and clatter continued. Then, from round the corner,
+with bits champing and satin coats gleaming in the sun, their
+silver-mounted harness sparkling, Wild Bill's treasured team of six
+horses swept into view. Round they swung, hitched to his well-known
+spring-cart, and in a second had drawn up with a flourish in front of
+the veranda.
+
+A gasp of astonishment greeted this unexpected vision. Men stood
+gaping at the beaming choreman sitting perched up on the driving-seat.
+It was the first time in his life he had ever been allowed to handle
+the gambler's equine children, and his joy and pride were written in
+every furrow of his age-lined features.
+
+The man sat waiting, while the thoroughbreds pawed the ground and
+reached restively at their bits. But they were like babes to handle,
+for their manners were perfect. They had been taught by a master-hand
+whose lessons had been well learned. And the picture they made was one
+that inspired admiration and envy in every eye and heart of those who
+now beheld them.
+
+But these were not the only emotions the sight provoked. Blank
+astonishment and incredulous wonder stirred them, too. Bill's horses!
+Bill's cart! Where--where was the gambler himself? Was this the stage?
+Was Bill--?
+
+The talk which had been so long suppressed now broke out afresh.
+Everybody asked questions, but nobody answered any. They crowded
+about the cart. They inspected the horses with eyes of admiration and
+wonder. No man could have withstood the sight of the rope-like veins
+standing out through their velvet skin. They fondled them, and talked
+to them as men will talk to horses. And it was only when Minky
+suddenly appeared in their midst, bearing in his arms an iron-clamped
+case which he deposited in the body of the cart, that their attention
+was diverted, and they remembered the purpose in hand.
+
+The gold-chest deposited and made secure, the storekeeper turned to
+the crowd about him.
+
+"Well, boys," he said, with an amiable smile, "any more mail? Any you
+fellers got things you need to send to your sisters--or somebody
+else's sisters? You best get it ready sharp. We're startin' at eight
+o'clock. After that you'll sure be too late. Y'see," he added
+humorously, "we ain't figgered when the next stage goes." He pulled
+out his nickel silver timepiece. "It's needin' five minutes to
+schedule," he went on officially, glancing keenly down the trail.
+Anyone sufficiently observant, and had they been quick enough, might
+have detected a shade of anxiety in his glance. He moved round to the
+side of the cart and spoke to the man in the driving-seat.
+
+"It's nigh eight. He ain't here?" he said questioningly.
+
+"Guess he'll be right along, boss," the little man returned in a low
+voice.
+
+Again the storekeeper glanced anxiously down the trail. Then he turned
+away with a slight sigh.
+
+"Well, boys," he said, with another attempt at jocularity, "if ther'
+ain't nuthin' doin', guess this mail's sure closed."
+
+Passing again to the back of the cart, he gazed affectionately upon
+the gold-chest. Then he lifted his eyes just as Van voiced the
+question in everybody's mind.
+
+"You sure ain't sendin' pore old Danny with that stage?" he cried
+incredulously. "You sure ain't sendin' him fer James to sift lead
+through? You ain't lettin' him drive Bill's horses?"
+
+"He sure ain't. Him drive my plugs? Him? Gee! Ther' ain't no one but
+me drives them hosses--not if Congress passed it a law."
+
+The harsh, familiar voice of Wild Bill grated contemptuously. He had
+come up from his hut all unnoticed just in time to hear Van's
+protesting inquiry. Now he stood with eyes only for his horses.
+
+Daylight at last shone through the mist of doubt and puzzlement which
+had kept the citizens of Suffering Creek in darkness so long. They
+looked at this lean, harsh figure and understood. Here was the driver
+of the stage, and, curiously, with this realization their doubts of
+its welfare lessened. All along they had been blaming Bill for his
+lack of interest in the affairs of the camp, and now--
+
+They watched him with keen, narrowing eyes. What mad game was he
+contemplating? They noted his dress. It was different to that which he
+usually wore. His legs were encased in sheepskin chaps. He was wearing
+a belt about his waist from which hung a heavy pair of guns. And under
+his black, shiny, short coat he was wearing a simple buckskin shirt.
+
+They watched him as he moved round his horses, examining the fit of
+the bridles and the fastenings of the harness. He looked to the
+buckles of the reins. He smoothed the satin coats of his children with
+affectionate hand. Then in a moment they saw him spring into the
+cart.
+
+Taking the reins from the choreman, he settled himself into the
+driving-seat, while the deposed charioteer clambered stiffly to the
+ground.
+
+Minky was at the wheel nearest to his friend. The horses, under the
+master-hand, had suddenly become restive. Bill bent over, and the
+storekeeper craned up towards him.
+
+"Ther' was two fellers hit the trail this morning," the gambler said,
+with a short laugh. "I see 'em when I was with Zip--'fore daylight."
+
+"You--you best quit it," said Minky in serious, anxious tones. "We
+kin, maybe, hold the gold up against him here. It ain't too late. It
+ain't, sure."
+
+Bill's face suddenly darkened. All the lightness which the prospect
+before him had inspired suddenly left it. His words came so full of
+bitter hatred that the other was startled.
+
+"Not for a million-dollar halo!" he cried, reaching out for his long
+whip.
+
+With a dexterous swing he set it cracking over his horses' backs. The
+high-strung beasts plunged at their bits, and the leaders started to
+rear. Again he swung out his whip, and this time it flicked the
+plunging leaders. Instantly there was a rush of feet and a scrunch of
+wheels. The "tugs" pulled taut, and the gush of eager nostrils hissed
+like steam upon the still air. There was a shout of farewell from the
+onlookers, and the gambler turned in his seat.
+
+"So long, fellers," he cried. "I'm makin' Spawn City by daylight
+to-morrer--sure."
+
+The next moment he was lost in a cloud of dust, as the horses raced
+down the hill.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+ON THE SPAWN CITY TRAIL
+
+
+Wild Bill's lean hands clawed the reins with muscles of steel. For the
+moment his six horses occupied his every thought. They were pulling
+with the madness of high-bred racehorses. The trail lay before them,
+their master sat behind. What more could they want, but that liberty
+to stretch their willing bodies?
+
+Down the hill and along the wood-lined trail that ran parallel to the
+sluggish creek they raced. The dust rose under their feet, and the
+wheels of the cart left a fog behind them. It rose in swirling clouds
+as though to shut off all retreat. Presently the road narrowed to a
+mere track, and the dark woods closed in. But there was no slackening
+under the hand of the gambler. Nor had the horses any desire to
+slacken their headlong rush. The woods broke and gave to a low bush,
+and in a moment the track opened upon Scipio's claim.
+
+Now, for the first time since the start as they swept across it, Bill
+permitted his gaze to wander from his charges. He looked away at the
+mouth of the tunnel Sandy had spent so much labor and such bitter
+cursing in the process of constructing; and a half-smile flitted
+across his hard face as he beheld the oozy debris, the idle tools, the
+winch and buckets. The sight seemed to afford him amusement. There was
+a softening, too, in his hard face. Maybe it was the result of his
+amusement. Maybe it was due to some thought of the little man with
+whom he was partners. But he seemed to freeze up again as the claim
+passed, and the horses floundered over the heavy trail beside the
+black, oily swamp beyond. It was bad driving here, and he steadied the
+racing creatures down with voice and hand.
+
+"Easy, Gipsy. Easy you, Pete. Now Maisie. So! Steady, boys. Easy!"
+
+The harsh voice was hushed and gentle. He was speaking to creatures
+that were not merely horses to him, but something nearer, perhaps even
+dearer.
+
+And the well-trained creatures responded at once, slowing to an easy
+trot, a pace which they kept until the ford of the creek was reached.
+Here they dropped to a walk as they splashed their way through the
+turgid stream. But the moment the wheels of the cart topped the
+opposite bank, they once more resumed their headlong gait.
+
+At once the gambler sat up. He straightened his lean body as a man who
+opens his lungs to breathe in deep draughts of fresh, bracing air. His
+narrow eyes stared out aside of him and beyond. His nostrils expanded,
+and his thin lips were tightly shut.
+
+The camp was behind him. The trail, a hard, wide sand trail, lay
+ahead. The wide, wild world was about him on every hand, reminding him
+of days long gone by, reminding him that to-day his instincts were
+still the same. The same fiery, militant spirit that had driven him
+from one end of his country to the other still left him yearning for
+the ruthless battle of wild places and wilder men. The long months of
+inactivity, the long days of peace, the longer nights of his gambler's
+craft, were for the moment gone. He was setting out, as in the old
+days, surrounded by all in life he cared for, offering a challenge to
+all the world, ready to grapple with whatsoever the gods of war might
+choose to thrust in his way.
+
+The man's spirits rose. The swift-flashing eyes brightened. His body
+felt to be bursting with a ravishing joy of life. His purpose was his
+own. The joy was his alone. He had found excuse for satisfying his
+own greedy lust, a lust for battle which no overwhelming odds could
+diminish. He was a savage. He knew it; he gloried in it. Peace to him
+was a wearisome burden of which at all times he was ready to rid
+himself. So he was born. So he had always lived. So, he knew, he would
+die.
+
+The trail rose with the upland. It rose with that gradation which so
+wears down the ardor of almost any horse. But the creatures Wild Bill
+was driving were made of unusual mettle. Their courage was the courage
+of the man behind them. And only when his courage failed him would
+their spirit falter. They swept up the long stretch as though the
+effort were a pastime. With ears pricked forward, nostrils gushing,
+their veins standing out like whipcord through their satin coats, they
+moved as though every stride were an expression of the joy of living.
+And the man's steel muscles were held at tension to keep their gait
+within the bounds of reason.
+
+As they neared the hill-top he turned and glanced back over his
+shoulder. There lay the camp nestling on the far side of the creek.
+There stood Minky's store, lording it over its lesser fellows with the
+arrogance of successful commerce. He could see a small patch of
+figures standing about its veranda, and he knew that many eyes were
+watching for a final sight of him at the moment when he should vanish
+over the hill.
+
+They were friendly eyes, too, he knew. They were the eyes of men who
+wished him well. But he doubted if those good wishes were for his own
+sake. He knew he was not a man whom men loved. And he smiled grimly as
+he glanced down at the chest of gold in the body of the cart.
+
+In a moment his eyes were looking out ahead again, and all thought of
+those he was leaving behind left his mind.
+
+The hill-top passed, the horses swung down into a deep, long valley.
+It was in this valley, some six or seven miles farther on, he had
+encountered Scipio in Minky's buckboard. He thought of that meeting
+now, and remembered many things; and as recollection stirred his teeth
+shut tight till his jaw muscles stood out like walnuts through his
+lean cheeks. He had promised Scipio that day. Well, his mind was
+easier than his feelings. He was confident. But he was stirred to a
+nervous desire to be doing.
+
+Nothing escaped his watchful eyes. Every tree, every bush, every rise
+and hollow passed under his closest scrutiny. But this was simply his
+way, a way that had long since been forced into a habit. He did not
+anticipate any developments yet. The battle-cry was yet to be sounded.
+He knew the men he was likely to deal with better than any other
+class. He knew their ways, their subtleties. Who should know them
+better? Had not years of his life been spent--?
+
+He laughed aloud, but his laughter rang without mirth. And his horses,
+taking the sound to be a command, broke suddenly into a gallop. It was
+the sympathy between man and beast asserting itself. They, too,
+possessed that nervous desire to be doing. Something of the
+significance of the journey was theirs, and their nerves were braced
+with the temper of fine steel.
+
+He steadied them down with the patience of a devoted father for a pack
+of boisterous children. No harsh words disturbed their sensitive ears.
+The certainty of their obedience made it unnecessary to exert any
+display of violence. They promptly fell again into their racing trot,
+and the cart once more ran smoothly over the hard beaten trail.
+
+The higher reaches of the creek cut into the valley from the right,
+and the trail deviated to a rise of sandy ground. He had reached the
+point of his meeting with Scipio. Nor did he slacken his pace over the
+dust-laden patch. It was passed in a choking cloud, and in a moment
+the rise was topped and a wild, broken country spread out before him.
+
+Five miles farther on he halted beside a small mountain stream and
+breathed his horses.
+
+But his halt was of the briefest. He simply let the horses stand in
+their harness. It was not time to feed, but he removed their bits and
+let them nip up the bunches of sweet grass about their feet. And as he
+did so he paused a moment at the head of each animal, muttering words
+of encouragement, and administering caresses with a hand which bore in
+its touch an affection that no words of his could have conveyed.
+
+Then he went back to the cart and made a few simple dispositions. One
+was to securely lash the gold-chest in its place; but its place he
+changed to the front of the cart. Another was to leave the lid of the
+foot-box, built against the dashboard, wide open, and to so secure it
+that it could not close again. Another was to adjust the lowered hood
+of the cart in a certain way that it was raised head-high as he sat in
+his driving-seat.
+
+Then, with a grim satisfaction in his small eyes as he glanced over
+his simple preparations, he jumped to the ground and replaced the bits
+in his horses' mouths. In two minutes he was again rushing over the
+trail, but this time through a world of crag and forest as primitive
+and rugged as was his own savage soul.
+
+So the journey went on, over mountainous hills, and deep down into
+valleys as dark as only mountain forests of spruce and pine could make
+them. Over a broken road that set the light cart perilously bumping,
+speeding along the edges of precipices, with little more than inches
+to spare, at a pace that might well set the nerves jangling with every
+jolt. Later a halt for feed and water, and on again, the willing
+horses taking their rest only as the difficulties of the trail reduced
+their pace to a laborious walk.
+
+The man sat alert through it all. There was no question in his mind.
+He knew what lay ahead of him somewhere in those vast depths. He knew
+that what he looked for was coming just as surely as the Day of Doom.
+He did not ask when or where. That was not his way. It might come when
+it chose, for his part. He was ready and even yearning for the moment
+of its coming.
+
+So his eyes never rested for a moment. Scarce a glance or thought did
+he give to his horses. Theirs it was to keep to the trail. Theirs it
+was to keep their pace. His was all other responsibility.
+
+The sun was leaning towards the western crags, where, in the distance,
+they raised their snow-crowned heads towards the heavens. The ruddy
+daylight was deepening to that warmth of color which belongs to day's
+old age. The forest shadows appeared to deepen, those dark forests so
+far below him in the valleys. Here, where he was racing along at a
+high level, all was bright, the air was joyous. Below him lay the
+brooding stillness where lurked a hundred unknown dangers. There were
+only about fifteen more miles of this broken solitude, and beyond that
+stretched a world of waving, gracious grassland right on to the
+prairie city whither he was bound.
+
+He stirred; his roving eyes abruptly concentrated. One distant spot on
+the rugged landscape held him. He craned forward. The movement caused
+him to ease his hand upon the reins. Instantly the horses sprang into
+a gallop. So intent was he that for the moment the change passed
+unnoticed. He seemed only to have eyes and thought for that distant
+hill-top. Then of a sudden he realized the dangerous breakneck speed,
+and turned his attention upon his team.
+
+The animals once more reduced to a sober pace, he turned again to the
+spot which held his interest; and his eyes grew bright with a smile
+that had nothing pleasant in it. He was grinning with a savage joy
+more fierce, more threatening, than the cruellest frown. The next time
+he bestirred himself it was to swing his gun-holsters more handy to
+the front of his body.
+
+Later on his interest seemed to lessen. No longer was there that
+watchfulness in his eyes. Perhaps it was he deemed there was no longer
+the necessity for it. Perhaps what he had seen had satisfied his
+restless searching. Anyway, he now sat contemplating the shining backs
+of his horses as they sped down the hill, and his eyes were friendly
+as he watched the rolls of muscle writhing under their satin coats.
+
+But when next he looked up his moment of gentleness had passed. His
+easier moods were never of long duration. One swift glance again at
+the distant hill, and then he turned from it and sat gazing at the
+dank, oozy prospect of the low-lying flat he was just entering with no
+sort of friendliness. The sharp hoofs of his team were flinging mud in
+every direction, and the rattle of the wheels had deadened to a thick
+sucking as they sank into the black mud. It was a heavy pull, but the
+speed was not checked. It only needed an extra effort, and this the
+willing team readily applied. He knew the spot well; and he knew that
+beyond lay the hill, the crest of which had so held his attention a
+few minutes before.
+
+His thoughts traveled no farther than that hill. For the time at least
+there was nothing beyond. Later it would be for him to consider that.
+Just ahead of him lay the chances and changes which went to make up
+such a life as his. This he knew. And somehow the thought stimulated
+his pulses to a fuller appreciation of things.
+
+In a few moments he was nearing the far boundary of the flat, and the
+ascent of the hill was about to commence. He smiled. Yes, it was well
+calculated. The hill would have to be taken at a walk. It was by far
+the steepest of the journey. He remembered, too, that the crest of it
+was reached by a final climb that became almost precipitous. He
+remembered, too, that the black woods that crowded its sides at the
+crest gave place to the skeleton trunks left by some long-forgotten
+forest fire. Yes, it was the one spot on the whole journey best
+calculated for what was to come.
+
+The team no longer labored in the ooze. The ascent was begun. With
+heads held high, with ears pricked and nostrils distended they faced
+the big effort unflinchingly.
+
+And the driver's mind was calculating many things. It was moving with
+the swiftness of an able general's in the midst of a big action. He
+glanced at the sky. Already the sun was hidden behind the western
+hills. Already the shadows were lengthening and the gray of evening
+was falling. The profound woods, dense and ghostly, had closed in. The
+trail was so narrow that the dreary, weeping foliage often swept the
+sides of the cart. But these things did not occur to him. His mind was
+ahead, amongst those aged skeletons left by the raging fire-fiend.
+
+Progress was slow. It was almost too slow for the man's eager nerves.
+He wanted to reach his goal. His lean body thrilled with a profound
+joy. He lusted for the battle which he knew to lie ahead of him. But,
+even so, he gave no outward sign. His face was set and harsh. His
+small eyes bored through the gloom, thrusting to penetrate beyond
+every bend in the winding road. Nothing escaped them. Each small fur
+that fled in terror at his approach was carefully noted, for they told
+him things he wanted to know.
+
+Now the final steep was reached. It was truly precipitous. The sharp
+hoofs of the team clawed their way up. Such was the struggle that even
+the man found himself leaning forward, instinctively desiring to help
+the laboring animals. The bends in the trail were sudden and at brief
+intervals. It was as though those responsible for the original
+clearing of the road had realized the impossibility of a direct
+ascent, and had chosen the zigzag path as the only means of
+surmounting the hill.
+
+The moments passed. Bend followed bend. The man in the cart found
+himself mechanically counting them. Two more. One more. The summit was
+almost reached. And beyond? He sighed. Maybe it was the sigh of a man
+whose nerves are relieved from their tension, knowing that beyond this
+last bend lay his goal. Maybe it was inspired by sympathy for his
+struggling horses. Anyway, his whole manner underwent a change. The
+watchfulness seemed to have gone from his eyes, his muscles to have
+relaxed. He leant back in his seat like a man full of weariness, and
+securely fastened his reins to an iron rail on the side of the cart.
+
+He was at the bend now. The leaders were abreast of it. They were past
+it. He--
+
+There was a sharp rattle of firearms, and half-a-dozen bullets swept
+pinging their way over his head. A hoarse voice shouted a command to
+halt. His horses plunged forward. But, quick as lightning, his hands
+flew to the reins, and he drew them up to a standstill in the open.
+
+"Hands up!" shouted the same voice; and a horseman appeared on each
+side of the team.
+
+Then came an exhibition of the gambler as he was, as in the old days
+he had always been known. It was all done in the fraction of a second.
+Simultaneously his two guns leapt from his holsters and two shots rang
+out. There was an ominous echo from the woods. One horseman reeled in
+his saddle, and the horse of the other man stumbled and finally fell.
+
+The next moment the man in the cart was crouching down, all but the
+crown of his head and his gleaming eyes well sheltered by the
+loose-hanging canvas hood.
+
+"I'm 'most allus ready to put my hands up!" he snarled. "Come on!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+THE BATTLE
+
+
+A shout of fury. A wild chorus of meaningless blasphemy. A thundering
+of hoofs. A shriek of pain--an appalling death-cry. The fight has
+begun--such a fight, in its wanton savagery, as might shame even the
+forest beasts. In a moment the human lusting for the blood of its
+fellows is let loose, than which there is no more terrible madness on
+earth.
+
+Yet there was a difference. There was a difference of motive widely
+separating the combatants; and it was a difference that left the
+balance of offense doubtful.
+
+To analyze the mental attitude of these people adequately would be
+well-nigh impossible. Their outlook possessed distortions which
+changed with chameleon-like rapidity. On the one hand was a band of
+lawless ruffians, steeped to their very souls in every sort of crime,
+in whose minds all law was anathema, in whose understanding all
+possession was a deliberate challenge, in whose hearts was no pity, no
+mercy, no feeling which belongs to the gentler side of human life; to
+whose comprehension death has no meaning until its relentless grip is
+fixed, and they feel the last spark of life crushing out of their own
+bodies. Then--But the analysis becomes hopelessly chaotic.
+
+On the other hand motive is perhaps even more difficult still, though
+a shade less hopeless. The gambler was a man of strong thought, of
+strong forces. Nor was he devoid of the gentler feelings of life. Yet
+here lies the difficulty of associating the various sides of his
+character with his actions. He had set out for this encounter. He had
+yearned for it, as a child might yearn for a plaything. The
+contemplation of it gave him ecstasy. With an inhuman joy he desired
+the lives of these men. Not one, but all; and one even more than all.
+Then, too, his purpose was in face of overwhelming odds--in face of
+almost a certainty of death for himself. Such actions have been
+performed before in noble cases, but here--?
+
+Was it simply his purpose to yield himself a martyr to the public
+welfare? Was it that he truly desired to avenge a wronged man? Was he
+setting himself up as the avenger of Sid Morton's cruel death, a man
+in whom he had no interest whatever? No. It would be absurd to believe
+that these things were the promptings responsible for his present
+actions. Some hideous psychological twist was driving him. Some
+passion swayed him over which he had no control whatever. Some
+degeneracy was upsetting his mental balance, and forcing him against
+his better instincts. But, even so, his whole attitude was that of a
+man of clear, alert mind, of iron purpose, of a courage invincible.
+
+Calm and cold Wild Bill crouched while, in the first rush of battle,
+the shots hailed about him. He reserved his fire, too, waiting for the
+effective moment with the patience of a skillful general. His every
+shot must tell, and tell desperately.
+
+Three times he was hit in as many seconds, but beyond hugging his
+flimsy shelter more closely he gave no sign. His purpose rose above
+all physical hurt or sense of pain. He was watching the movements of
+one man--of one man only. His gleaming eyes pursued the figure of the
+outlaw leader to the exclusion of all else. James was his quarry. The
+rest--well, the rest were merely incidental.
+
+And, emboldened by his intended victim's silence, James suddenly
+changed his tactics. A long-ranged battle was little enough to his
+savage taste. He ceased the ineffective fire of his men and brought
+them together. Then in a moment, with the reckless abandon of his
+class, he headed them and charged. They came, as before, with a brazen
+shout, and the air was hideous with a fresh outburst of blasphemy,
+while a rush of lead searched the fragile cart in every direction.
+
+But the din of voices, the crash of woodwork as the panels of the cart
+were riddled by the wildly flung shots, was powerless to draw the
+defender. His guns were ready. He was ready for the purpose in his
+mind. That was all. His fierce eyes lit with a murderous intent as he
+calculated with certainty and exactness.
+
+On they came. They drove their maddened horses with savage spurs right
+up to the cart. It was the moment the gambler awaited. He leapt, and
+in a flash his tall figure was confronting the leader of the attack.
+And as he rose his arms were outstretched and his great guns belched
+their murderous fire. Two men rolled from their saddles with a
+death-scream that died down to a hideous gurgle, as the racing hoofs
+trod the last atom of life out of their bodies. His guns belched a
+second time, and James' throat was plowed open, and the rich red blood
+spurted in a ghastly tide. Another shot and another man fell forward,
+clutching his horse's mane while he was borne from the battle-field to
+the dim recesses of the forest by his uncontrolled and affrighted
+beast.
+
+But the gambler paid a high price for these successes--far higher
+than he could really afford. Four times more he was badly hit. Four
+times the hot slither of burning lead plowed its way amidst the
+life-channels of his body. And his retreat to cover was something
+almost in the nature of collapse.
+
+But the spirit of the man admitted of no weakening. It rose dominant
+over all physical sensation. He thrust aside the cognizance of his
+hurts, and abandoned himself solely to his purpose. James was still
+in the saddle, and the sight of his hated personality consumed him
+with rage and disgust at the failure of his first attempt.
+
+"Still around. Still around," he muttered. And in a moment the battle
+was surging once more.
+
+No longer was the leader of the attack moved by the irresponsible
+bravado of his first attack. He was a raging savage, goaded by the
+desperate wounds he had received, and the knowledge that he and all
+his force were being held at bay by one man. So he charged again, a
+headlong rush, howling as he came at the head of his four remaining
+supporters.
+
+They came like an avalanche, their voices making hideous the rapidly
+falling night, while the wounded defender waited, waited, all his
+purpose concentrated, husbanding his ebbing strength as a starving man
+might husband the last crumbs of food. He knew that not only his
+strength, but his very life was slowly ebbing in the red tide that was
+fast saturating every shred of his clothing.
+
+Again they reached the cart. Again the maddened horses were driven
+head on to the dreaded fortress. And instantly their quarry rose to
+his full height, a grim specter thrilling with a murderous purpose,
+his arms outstretched, his guns held low, that there should be no
+mistake this time.
+
+The crash of battle was appalling. The scene was almost lost in the
+smoke cloud which hung over it. There was fire and cross-fire. There
+were exultant shouts and cries of pain. And through it all the
+scuttling of rushing hoofs and champing bits. A moment and the
+defender dropped. But instantly he rose again, gripping in his nervous
+hands the butts of a pair of fresh guns snatched from his foot-box.
+Nor did he stir foot again, nor relax a muscle, till every one of the
+twelve chambers was emptied.
+
+Then, with an oath that carried with it all the pent-up hatred of a
+bitter heart, he flung both weapons in the direction whither his last
+shot had gone, and, staggering back, dropped helplessly into the
+driving-seat behind him.
+
+The smoke hung heavily and drifted slowly away upon the still air. The
+sound of rushing hoofs receded and died away in the distance, and in a
+while a profound quiet settled upon the scene. The man lolled heavily
+in his seat, and his eyes closed. His face was a ghastly gray, his
+eyes were sunken and his blackened lips hung agape. His arms hung
+helplessly at his side, and his legs were stretched out in a pitiable
+attitude of uselessness.
+
+The moments passed drearily. For a long time there was no movement of
+any sort but the restless fidgeting of the horses. They had stood
+through all the turmoil as their master had long since trained them to
+stand. But now that it was over their eager spirits were demanding the
+joy of the trail again. It almost seemed as though, in their equine
+minds, they had a full realization of the meaning of that battle in
+the wild, as though sympathy between master and beast had held them
+during that fierce ten minutes still and passive, lest through any act
+of theirs they should cross the will of the one being whom they
+acknowledged their lord. And now that it was over and the crisis
+passed, it seemed as if they understood that victory had been
+achieved, and their duty once more lay upon the trail ahead of them.
+
+At last the eyes of the man opened. The chafing of his horses had
+penetrated to his numbing brain. Their fierce depths were dull and
+lusterless as they rolled vaguely around. Yet there was intelligence
+in them, although it was the intelligence of a weary, fainting mind.
+They closed again, as though the will behind them lacked in its
+support. And then followed a sigh, a deep, long sigh of exhaustion.
+
+There was another pause, and presently there came a bodily movement.
+The man stirred uneasily, in the manner of one gathering his weakening
+forces for a supreme effort from which his whole body shrank. Again
+his eyes opened, and this time their depths were full of purpose.
+Suddenly his legs gathered under him and his arms drew up, and in a
+moment he staggered to his feet, his hands clutching support upon the
+back of the seat.
+
+He stared about him doubtfully, and his uncertainty was pitiful to
+behold. His eyes were only half open, as though the effort of
+sustaining their lids was too great for his failing powers. They
+wandered on over the scene, however, until they suddenly fixed
+themselves upon a spot where two figures were stretched upon the
+ground. One was lying upon its side with its knees drawn up as though
+asleep; the other was stretched upon its back, its arms flung out and
+its legs lying across the other's body. The dead eyes were staring up
+at the darkened sky, glazed and motionless.
+
+He stared down upon these figures for some time, and the sight seemed
+to put fresh strength into him; and at last, when he turned away, a
+pitiful attempt at triumph shone in his dull eyes, and a ghostly smile
+flitted about the corners of his sagging lips.
+
+He had seen all he wanted to see. His work was done. James was dead.
+He knew death when he saw it, and he had seen it shining in those
+staring eyes. James had passed over the one-way trail, and his had
+been the hand that had sped him upon his journey.
+
+Now he took a deep breath and stood swaying. Then he glanced with
+measuring eye at the foot-box at his feet. He changed his support,
+and, bending slowly, dragged a rawhide rope from inside it. The next
+moment he fell back upon the seat. But his work had only begun. For
+some time he fumbled with the rope, passing it about his body and the
+iron stanchions of the back of the seat, and after awhile had
+succeeded in knotting it securely. Then, after a moment of hard
+breathing, he reached out and untied the reins from the rail of the
+cart and gathered them into his hands. And as he did so his lips moved
+and his voice croaked brokenly.
+
+"Come on, Gyp," he mumbled hoarsely. "Come, gal. Hey--you, Pete. You,
+too--Maisie. Come on. Get on."
+
+It was the word his faithful friends had awaited.
+
+Chilled and eager, they leapt at their bits, and the traces snapped
+taut. They were off; and in their eager rush the reins were almost
+torn from the driver's numbing fingers. Again he spoke, and in his
+halting words was a world of affection and encouragement.
+
+"Easy, children," he said. "Easy, boys an' gals. Ther' sure ain't no
+hurry now. They're dead--all--dead. Dead as--mutton."
+
+He clawed full possession of the reins again. And in a moment the cart
+was speeding down the long gradient that was to bear them on the
+prairie world beyond.
+
+The man was lolling forward, straining on the rope that held his
+helpless body to the seat, and his eyes closed wearily. The speed of
+the team, the direction, these things meant nothing to him now. The
+trail was well marked right in to Spawn City. There were no turnings.
+That was all that mattered. These children of his would faithfully
+keep on their way to the end. He knew these things without thinking,
+and the knowledge left him indifferent. His only concern now was the
+gold. It was in the cart, and it must reach Spawn City. To that his
+honor was pledged.
+
+The reins slipped through his fingers. He stirred uneasily. Then his
+eyes opened again. For a moment his sagging lips closed. He was
+summoning all his failing strength. He clutched the reins in one hand,
+and with the other knotted them about his wrist. Then, with a gasp,
+his left hand dropped from his task, while his right arm was held
+outstretched by the strain of the pulling horses upon the reins.
+
+There was now no longer any demand for further effort, and the
+drooping body lolled over against the side of the cart as though the
+man were seeking his rest. His head hung away at a helpless angle,
+and his legs straggled. And thus the speeding team raced clear of the
+mountain world and plunged through the darkness to the prairie
+beyond.
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+The moon rose in all its cold splendor. The stars dimmed before its
+frigid smile. The black vault of the heavens lit with a silvery sheen,
+embracing the prairie world beneath its bejeweled pall.
+
+The sea of grass lay shadowed in the moonlit dusk. But, in sharp
+relief, a white ribbon-like trail split it from end to end, like
+some forlorn creature with white outspread arms yearning in
+desolation--yearning for the bustle and rush of busy life which it is
+denied, yearning to be relieved from so desperate a solitude.
+
+The vastness and silence dwarfs even thought. The things which are
+great, which have significance, which have meaning to the human mind
+are lost in such a world. Life itself becomes infinitesimal.
+
+There is something moving in a tiny ebullition of dust along the white
+trail. It looks so small. It moves so slowly, crawling, seemingly, at
+a snail's pace. It is almost microscopical in the vastness.
+
+Yet it is only these things by comparison. It is neither small, nor is
+it traveling at a snail's pace. It is a cart drawn by six horses,
+racing as though pursued by all the demons of the nether world.
+
+And in the driving-seat is a curious, stiffly swaying figure. It is
+strangely inanimate. Yet it suggests something that no ordinary human
+figure could suggest. It is in its huddled attitude, its ghastly face,
+its staring, unseeing eyes, which gaze out in every direction, as the
+jolting of the cart turns and twists the body from side to side. There
+is something colossal, something strangely stirring in the suggestion
+of purpose in the figure. There is something to inspire wonder in the
+most sluggish mind. It tells a story of some sort of heroism. It
+tells a story of a master mind triumphing over bodily weakness and
+suffering. It tells a story of superlative defiance--the defiance of
+death.
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+The early risers of Spawn City were gathered in a stupefied crowd
+outside the principal hotel in the place. Six jaded horses, drawing a
+light spring-cart, had just pulled up. The poor creatures were utterly
+spent, and stood with drooping heads and distended nostrils, gasping
+and steaming, their weary legs tottering beneath them. Their great
+eyes were yearning and sunken, and their small ears lay back,
+indifferent to every sound or movement about them. Their last buoyancy
+has been expended. They have run their mad race till their hearts are
+nigh bursting.
+
+But the horses were of the least interest to the onlookers. It was the
+dusty spring-cart that interested their curious minds--the cart, and
+the still and silent driver, who made no attempt to leave his seat.
+They stood gaping, not daring to disturb the ghastly figure, not
+daring even to approach it too closely. Their minds were thrilling
+with a morbid horror which held them silent.
+
+But at last there came a diversion. A burly, rough-clad man pushed his
+way through the crowd, and his keen eyes flashed a quick look over the
+whole outfit. He was the sheriff, and had been hurriedly summoned.
+
+"Wild Bill!" he muttered. "Them's sure his plugs, too," he added, as
+though seeking corroboration.
+
+There was certainly doubt in his tone, and surprise, too; and he came
+to the side of the cart and gazed up into the awful face drooping
+forward over the outstretched arm to further convince himself. What he
+beheld caused him to click his tongue against the roof of his mouth.
+It was his only means of giving expression to the wave of horror that
+swept over him.
+
+With a leap he sprang into the seat, and began releasing the knotted
+reins from the stiffened arm. So tight had the knots been drawn that
+it took some moments. Then he turned, and with difficulty removed the
+rawhide from about the middle of the huddled figure. Then he hailed
+some of the onlookers.
+
+"Ho, you, Joe! You, too, Lalor, an' Ned! Stand by, lads, an' bear a
+hand," he cried authoritatively. "Guess I'll pass it out."
+
+Then he stood up, staring down at the stiffened body; and wonder
+looked out of his puzzled eyes.
+
+"Gee! if it ain't Wild Bill the gambler, an'--an' he must ha' bin dead
+nigh six hours."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+A MAN'S LOVE
+
+
+It was with strangely mixed feelings that Scipio drove Minky's old
+mule down the shelving trail leading into the secret valley where
+stood James' ranch-house. The recollection of his first visit to the
+place was a sort of nightmare which clung desperately in the back
+cells of memory. The dreadful incidents leading up to it and
+surrounding it could never be forgotten. Every detail of his headlong
+journey in quest of the man who had wronged him, every detail of his
+terrible discomfiture, would cling in his memory so long as he had
+life.
+
+But, in spite of memory, in spite of his wrongs, his heart-burnings,
+the desolation of the past weeks, his heart rose buoyantly as he came
+within sight of the place in which he still persisted in telling
+himself that his Jessie was held a prisoner against her will. That was
+his nature. No optimism was too big for him. No trouble was so great
+that hope could altogether be crushed out of his heart.
+
+He looked out over the splendid valley extending for miles on either
+hand of him, and somehow he was glad. Somehow the glorious sunlight,
+so softened by the shadowed forest which covered the hillsides, so
+gentle beneath the crowding hills which troughed in the bed of waving
+grass, sent his simple spirit soaring to heights of anticipatory
+delight which, a few days back, had seemed beyond his reach.
+
+At that moment, in spite of all that had gone before, the place was
+very, very beautiful to him, life was wonderful, his very existence
+was a joy. For was not Jessie waiting for him beyond, in that
+ranch-house? Was not she waiting for his coming, that she might return
+with him to their home? Was she not presently to be seated beside him
+upon the rickety old seat of Minky's buckboard? And his final thought
+caused him to glance regretfully down at the frayed cushion, wishing
+cordially that he could have afforded her greater comfort.
+
+Ah, well, perhaps she would not mind just for this once. And, after
+all, she would be with him, which was the great thing. Wild Bill had
+promised him that; and he had every confidence in Wild Bill.
+
+Then he suddenly thought of something he might have done. Surely he
+might have brought Vada with him. What a pity he didn't think of it
+before he started out. It was foolish of him, very foolish. But he had
+been so full of Jessie. The thought of winning her back had quite put
+everything else out of his head. Yes, it was a pity. The presence of
+Vada would certainly have added to her happiness, she was so fond of
+her children.
+
+Then he remembered his instructions. Bill had said he must go alone.
+He must go alone--and be prepared to fight for her. Bill was a
+wonderful man. He seemed to be able to do anything he chose. And
+somehow he felt sorry he had bluffed him into buying half his claim.
+He could feel the roll of bills, the result of that transaction, in
+his hip pocket, and the pressure of them impressed itself unpleasantly
+upon his conscience. He felt sure he had no right to them. He must
+really give them back to the gambler later. He felt that his attitude
+was a swindle on a good man. Bill was certainly a good man, a brave
+man, but he was no business man. He, Scipio, had the advantage of him
+there.
+
+The buckboard rumbled down to the grassy trail which stretched from
+the foot of the hillside to the ranch-house. And now the pale-eyed
+little man bethought him of the fight Bill had promised him.
+
+Quite unperturbed he looked down at the fierce pair of revolvers
+hanging at his waist. He was taking no chances this time. He had
+borrowed these guns from Minky, the same as he had borrowed the mule
+and buckboard. They were fine weapons, too. He had tried them. Oh, no,
+if it came to shooting he would give a different account of himself
+this time. Mr. James must look to himself. So must Abe Conroy. He
+would have no mercy. And he frowned darkly down at the gigantic
+weapons.
+
+Now he considered carefully the buildings ahead. The ranch was
+certainly a fine place. He found it in his heart to admire it, and
+only felt pity that it was the house of such a pitiable scoundrel as
+James. And yet he really felt sorry for James. Perhaps, after all, he
+ought not to be too hard on the man. Of course, he was a wicked
+scoundrel, but that might be merely misfortune. And, anyway, Jessie,
+his Jessie, was a very beautiful woman.
+
+His eyes wandered on to the distant hills, catching up the smaller
+details of interest as they traveled. There were hundreds of cattle
+grazing about, and horses, too. Then there were the fenced-in pastures
+and the branding corrals. James must certainly be an excellent
+rancher, even if he were a scoundrel.
+
+But the place was very still. Strangely still, he thought. There was
+not even one of the usual camp dogs to offer him its hostile welcome.
+He could see none of the "hands" moving about. Perhaps they were--
+
+Of course. For the moment he had forgotten that they were not simple
+ranchers. He had forgotten they were man-hunters. They were probably
+out on the trail pursuing their nefarious calling. And, of course,
+Bill knew it. That was why he had told him to drive out on this
+particular morning. Wonderful man, Bill!
+
+Suddenly the distant neighing of a horse startled him, and he looked
+across the woods beyond the house, the direction, he calculated,
+whence the sound came. But there was no horse to be seen. Nothing
+except the darkling cover of pine woods. It was strange. He was sure
+the sound came from that direction. No; there was certainly nothing in
+the shape of a horse out there. There wasn't even a cow. Perhaps it
+was a "stray" amongst the trees. So he dismissed the matter from his
+mind and chirruped at the old mule.
+
+And now he came up to the ranch; and the stillness of the place became
+even more pronounced. It really was astonishing. Surely there must be
+somebody about. He pushed his guns well to the front, and drew his
+prairie hat forward so that the brim shaded his pale eyes. He further
+shifted his reins into his left hand, and sat with his right on the
+butt of one of his weapons. Whatever was to come he was ready for it.
+One thing he had made up his mind to; he would stand no nonsense from
+anybody--certainly not from James or Conroy.
+
+The old mule plodded on, and, with the instinct of its kind, headed in
+the direction of the nearest corral. And Scipio was forced to abandon
+his warlike attitude, and with both hands drag him away into the
+direction of the house door. But somehow in those last moments he
+entirely forgot that his mission was a fighting one, and sat shaking
+the reins and chirruping noisily in the approved manner of any farmer
+on a visit.
+
+He stared up at the house as he came. His eyes were filled with
+longing. He forgot the barns, the corrals as possible ambushes. He
+forgot every thought of offense or defense. There was the abode of his
+beloved Jessie, and all he wondered was in which part of it lay her
+prison. He was overflowing with a love so great that there was no room
+in either brain or body for any other thought or feeling.
+
+But Jessie was nowhere to be seen, and a shadow of disappointment
+clouded his face as he halted the only too willing beast and clambered
+down between the spidery wheels. Nor did he wait to secure his
+faithful servitor, or to think of anything practical at all. He
+hustled up to the open doorway, and, pushing his head in through it,
+called till the echoes of the place rang--
+
+"Ho, Jess! Ho, you, Jess! It's me--Zip! I come to fetch you to home."
+
+The echoes died away and the place became still again. And somehow the
+quiet of it set him bristling. His hands flew to his guns and remained
+there while he stood listening. But no answer came, and his redundant
+hope slowly ebbed, leaving a muddy shore of apprehension.
+
+Then, with one glance back over his shoulder, he moved into the
+building with much the stealth of a thief. In the living-room he stood
+and stared about him uncertainly. It was the same room he had been in
+before, and he remembered its every detail. Suddenly he pushed the
+evil of those recollections aside and called again--
+
+"Ho, Jess! Ho-o-o!"
+
+But the confidence had gone from his tone, and his call suggested an
+underlying doubt.
+
+Again came the echoes. Again they died. Then--yes--there was a sound
+that had nothing to do with echoes. Again--yes--sure. It was the sound
+of someone moving in an upper room. He listened attentively, and again
+his eyes brightened with ready hope.
+
+"Jess! Jess!" he called.
+
+And this time there was an answer.
+
+Without a moment's hesitation, without a second's thought, he dashed
+through an open doorway and ran up the narrow flight of stairs
+beyond.
+
+At last, at last! His Jessie! He had heard her voice. He had heard the
+music he had longed for, craved for, prayed for. Was there anything in
+the world that mattered else? Was there anything in the world that
+could keep him from her now? No, not now. His love permeated his whole
+being. There was no thought in his mind of what she had done. There
+was no room in his simple heart for anything but the love he could not
+help, and would not have helped if he could. There was no obstacle
+now, be it mountain or stream, that he could not bridge to reach his
+Jessie. His love was his life, and his life belonged to--Jessie.
+
+He reached the top of the stairs, and a door stood open before him. He
+did not pause to consider what lay beyond. His instinct guided him.
+His love led him whither it would, and it led him straight into the
+presence he desired more than all the world. It led him straight to
+Jessie.
+
+For the fraction of a second he became aware of a vision of womanhood,
+to him the most perfect in all the world. He saw the well-loved face,
+now pale and drawn with suffering and remorse. He saw the shadowed
+eyes full of an affrighted, hunted expression. And, with a cry that
+bore in its depth all the love of a heart as big as his small body, he
+ran forward to clasp her in his arms.
+
+But Jessie's voice arrested him half-way. It thrilled with hysterical
+denial, with suffering, regret, horror. And so commanding was it that
+he had no power to defy its mandate.
+
+"No, no," she shrilled. "Keep back--back. You must not come near me. I
+am not fit for you to touch."
+
+"Not fit--?"
+
+Scipio stared helplessly at her, his eyes settling uncertainly upon
+her hands as though he expected to find upon them signs of some work
+she might have been engaged upon--some work that left her, as she had
+said, unfit to touch. His comprehension was never quick. His
+imagination was his weakest point.
+
+Then his eyes came to her well-loved face again, and he shook his
+head.
+
+"You--you got me beat, Jess. I--"
+
+"Ah, Zip, Zip!" Suddenly Jessie's hands went up to her face and her
+eyes were hidden. It was the movement of one who fears to witness the
+hatred, the loathing, the scorn which her own accusing mind assures
+her she merits. It was the movement of one whose heart was torn by
+remorse and shame, whose eyes were open to her sins, and who realizes
+that earthly damnation is her future lot. Her bosom heaved, and dry
+sobs choked her. And the little man, who had come so far to claim her,
+stood perplexed and troubled.
+
+At last he struggled out a few words, longing to console, but scarcely
+understanding how to go about it. All he understood was that she was
+ill and suffering.
+
+"Say, Jess, you mustn't to cry," he said wistfully. "Ther' ain't
+nothin' to set you cryin'. Ther' sure ain't--"
+
+But a woman's hysteria was a thing unknown to him, and his gentle
+attempt was swept aside in a torrent of insensate denial.
+
+"No, no! Don't come near me," she cried in a harsh, strident tone.
+"Leave me. Leave me to my misery. Don't dare to come here mocking me.
+Don't dare to accuse me. Who are you to accuse? You are no better than
+me. You have no right to come here as my judge. You, with your smooth
+ways, your quiet sneers. Don't you dare! Don't you dare! I'm no longer
+your wife, so you have no right. I'm his--his. Do you understand? I'm
+his. I shall live the life I choose, and you shall not molest me. I
+know you. You've come to accuse me, to tell me all I am, to tax me
+with my shame. It's cruel--cruel. Oh, God, help me--help me!"
+
+The woman's voice died out in a piteous wail that smote straight to
+the heart of the little man who stood shaking before her hysterical
+outbreak. He knew not what to do. His love prompted him to go to her
+and crush her to his simple, loving heart, but somehow he found
+himself unable to do anything but gaze with longing eyes upon the
+heart-broken figure, as she leant upon the foot-rail of the bed.
+
+He stirred. And in the moments that passed while his eyes were fixed
+upon her rich, heaving bosom, his mind groping vaguely, he became
+aware of everything about him. He knew he was in her bedroom. He knew
+that the furnishings were good. He knew that the sunlight was pouring
+in through the open window, and that a broad band of dazzling light
+was shining upon her lustrous dark hair. He knew all these things in
+the same way that he knew she was suffering so that she came near
+breaking his own sympathetic heart.
+
+But though his intellect failed him, and he had no idea of what he
+ought to say or do, words came at last and tumbled headlong from his
+lips, just as they were inspired, all unconsidered, by his heart.
+
+"Say, Jessie gal," he cried in a softly persuasive tone, "won't you
+come to home--an'--an' help me out? Won't you, gal?"
+
+But he was given no time to complete his appeal. The woman suddenly
+raised her face, and once more broke out in hysterical fury.
+
+"Home? Home? With you?" she cried. "Ha, ha! That's too good! Home,
+with you to forever remind me what I am? For you to sneer at me, and
+point me to your friends for what I am? Never, never! Go you back
+where you came from. I'm not a wife. Do you hear? God help me, I'm--"
+And she buried her face again upon her arms.
+
+"Won't you come to home, gal?" the man persisted. "Won't you? I'm so
+desp'rit lonesome. An' the kids, too. Gee! they're jest yearnin' an'
+yearnin' for you--nigh as bad as me."
+
+He took a step towards her with his arms outstretched. All his soul
+was in his mild eyes. And presently Jessie raised her head again. She
+stood staring at the wall opposite her. It was as though she dared not
+face him. Her eyes were burning, but they were less wild, and a sudden
+hope thrilled the man's heart. He hurried on, fearful lest the old
+storm should break out again--
+
+"Y'see, Jess, ther' ain't nuthin' to our pore little shack on the
+'dumps' without you. Ther' sure ain't. Then ther's my claim. I sold
+ha'f. An'--an' I got money now--I--"
+
+The woman's eyes turned slowly upon him. They were red with unshed
+tears. Their expression was curious. There was doubt and shrinking in
+them. It almost seemed as if she were wondering if all the past days
+of regret and longing had turned her brain, and she were listening to
+words conjured by a distorted fancy, some insane delusion. She could
+not believe. But Scipio continued, and his voice was real enough.
+
+"I--know I ain't much of a feller for the likes of you, Jess," he said
+earnestly. "I ain't quick. I ain't jest bright. But I do love you, my
+dear. I love you so I can't think nothin' else. I want you to home,
+Jess, that bad, I thank God ev'ry day He give you to me. I want you so
+bad it don't seem you ever bin away from me. I want you that bad I
+can't remember the last week or so. You'll come--to home, gal--now?
+Think--jest think o' them bits o' twins. You wait till you see 'em
+laff when they get eyes on you. Say, they're that bonny an' bright.
+They're jest like you, wi' their eyes all a-sparklin', an' their
+cheeks that rosy. Gee! they're jest a-yearnin' an' a-callin' fer their
+mam--same as me."
+
+The little man had moved another step nearer. His arms were still
+outstretched, and his quaint face was all aglow with the warmth and
+love that stirred him. Somewhere in the back of his dull head he knew
+that he was pleading for something more than his life. He had no
+subtlety in his manner or his words. It was just his heart talking for
+him and guiding him.
+
+And in the woman had risen a sudden hope. It was a struggling ray of
+light in the blackness of her despair. It was a weak struggling
+flicker--just a flicker. And even as it rose its power was dashed
+again in the profundity of her suffering. She could not grasp the hand
+held out--she could not see it. She could not believe the words her
+ears heard.
+
+"No, no, don't mock at me," she cried, with a sudden return to her old
+wildness. "It is cruel, cruel! Leave me. For pity's sake go. How can
+you stand there taunting me so? How can I go with you? How can I face
+my children now? Do you know what I am? No, no, of course you don't.
+You could never understand. You, with your foolish, simple mind. Shall
+I tell you what I am? Shall I say it? Shall I--"
+
+But the man's hand went up and held her silent.
+
+"You don't need to say nothing, Jess," he said in his mildest tone.
+"You don't need to, sure. Whatever you are, you're all the world to
+me--jest all."
+
+With a sudden cry the woman's head dropped upon her outspread arms,
+and the merciful tears, so long denied her, gushed forth. Her body
+heaved, and it seemed to the distraught man that her poor heart must
+be breaking. He did not know what those tears meant to her. He did not
+know that the victory of his love was very, very near. Only he saw her
+bowed in passionate distress, and he had no thought of how to comfort
+her.
+
+He waited, waited. But the flood once broken loose must needs spend
+itself. Such is the way with women, of whom he had so small an
+understanding. He turned away to the window. He stared with unseeing
+eyes at the fair picture of the beautiful valley. The moments
+passed--long, dreary moments rapidly changing to minutes. And then at
+last the storm began to die down, and he turned again towards her and
+drew a step nearer.
+
+"Jess--Jess," he murmured.
+
+Then he took another hesitating step.
+
+But his words seemed to have started her tears afresh, and into his
+eyes came that painful perplexity again.
+
+Again he ventured, and his step this time brought him close to her
+side.
+
+"Jess, gal--Jess," he pleaded, with infinite tenderness.
+
+And as the woman continued to sob he stole one arm gently about her
+waist. She made no move. Only her shaking body calmed, and her tears
+became more silent.
+
+He strove to draw her towards him, but she clung to the bed-rail with
+almost child-like persistence, as though she dared not permit herself
+the hope his encircling arms inspired. But she had not rebuffed him,
+so with some assertion he thrust his other arm about her, and,
+exerting force, deliberately turned her towards him.
+
+"Say, don't you to cry, lass," he whispered softly. "Don't you, now.
+It jest makes me sore right through. It jest makes me feel all of a
+choke, an'--an' I want to cry, too. Say, gal, I love you good. I do,
+Jess--I sure do. Ther' ain't nothin' in the world I wouldn't do to
+stop them tears. Come to home, gal--come to home."
+
+And as he finished speaking he drew her dark head down to his breast,
+and laid his thin cheek against her wealth of hair. And, pressing her
+to the home that was for all time hers, his own eyes filled with tears
+which slowly rolled down his cheeks and mingled themselves with hers.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+THE REASON WHY
+
+
+When Scipio turned his back upon the valley it was with the intention
+of resting his old mule at the place of the friendly farmer whom he
+had encountered on his first memorable visit to James' secret abode.
+From thence, after a night's rest, he would start late next day, and
+make the creek soon after sundown. For the sake of Jessie he had no
+desire to make a daylight entry into the camp.
+
+The old mule certainly needed rest. And, besides, it was pleasant to
+prolong the journey. Moments such as the present were scarce enough in
+life. And though Jessie was with him for all time now, he greedily
+hugged to himself these hours alone with her, when there was nothing
+but the fair blue sky and waving grass, the hills and valleys, to
+witness his happiness, none of the harshness of life to obtrude upon
+his perfect joy; nothing, not even the merest duties of daily life, to
+mar the delicious companionship which his wife's long-desired presence
+afforded him. The whole journey was to be a sort of honeymoon, a
+thousand times sweeter for the misery and unhappiness through which
+they had both passed.
+
+He thought of nothing else. The very existence of James and his gang
+had passed from his recollection. He had no mind for dangers of any
+sort. He had no mind for anything or anybody but his Jessie, his
+beautiful Jessie--his wife.
+
+Had he had the least curiosity or interest in other matters, there
+were many things, strange things, about the recovery of his wife which
+might have set him wondering. For instance, he might have speculated
+as to the desertion of the ranch--the absence of dogs, the absence of
+all those signs which tell of a busy enterprise--things which could
+not be adequately accounted for by the mere absence of the head of it,
+even though he were accompanied by his fighting men. He might have
+glanced about among the barns and corrals, or--he might even have
+questioned his Jessie.
+
+Had he done either of these things a certain amount of enlightenment
+would undoubtedly have penetrated to his unsuspicious mind. He must
+inevitably have detected the hand or hands of his earthly guardian
+angels in the manner in which his path had been cleared of all
+obstructions.
+
+Had he been less occupied with his own happiness, with the joy of
+having Jessie once more beside him, and chanced to look back into the
+valley as he left it forever, he would certainly have received
+enlightenment. But he never knew what had been done for him, he never
+knew the subtle working for his welfare.
+
+Thus it was, all unobserved by him, the moment he was at sufficient
+distance from the ranch, three horsemen suddenly appeared from amidst
+the most adjacent point of the forest on the far side of the valley
+and galloped across to the house. They ran their horses to cover
+amongst the buildings and dismounted, immediately vanishing into one
+of the barns.
+
+And as they disappeared a good deal of laughter, a good deal of
+forceful talk, came from the place which had swallowed them up. Then,
+after awhile, the three reappeared in the open, and with them came an
+old choreman, whose joints ached, and whose villainous temper had
+seriously suffered under the harsh bonds which had held him secure
+from interference with Scipio for so long.
+
+The men herded him out before them, quite heedless of his bitter
+vituperation and blasphemy. And when they had driven him forth Sunny
+Oak pointed out to him the retreating buckboard as it vanished over
+the far hillside.
+
+"Ther' they go, you miser'ble old son of a moose," he cried with a
+laugh. "Ther' they go. An' I guess when James gits around ag'in you'll
+likely pay a mighty fine reck'nin'. An' I'll sure say I won't be a
+heap sorry neither. You've give me a power o' trouble comin' along out
+here. I ain't had no sort o' rest fer hours an' hours, an' I hate
+folks that sets me busy."
+
+"You're a pizenous varmint, sure," added Sandy, feeling that Sunny
+must not be allowed all the talk. "An' your langwidge is that bad I'll
+need to git around a Bible-class ag'in to disinfect my ears."
+
+"You sure will," agreed Toby, with one of his fatuous grins. "I never
+see any feller who needed disinfectin' more." Then he turned upon the
+evil-faced choreman and added his morsel of admonition. "Say, old man,
+as you hope to git buried yourself when James gits around ag'in, I
+guess you best go an' dig that miser'ble cur o' yours under, 'fore he
+gits pollutin' the air o' this yer valley, same as you are at the
+moment. He's cost me a goodish scrap, but I don't grudge it him
+noways. Scrappin's an elegant pastime, sure--when you come out right
+end of it."
+
+After that, cowed but furious, the old man was allowed to depart, and
+the three guardians of Scipio's person deliberately returned to their
+charge. Their instructions were quite clear, even though they only
+partially understood the conditions making their work necessary.
+Scipio must be safeguarded. They were to form an invisible escort,
+clearing his road for him and making his journey safe. So they swung
+into the saddle and rode hot-foot on the trail of their unconscious
+charge.
+
+For the most part they rode silently. Already the journey had been
+long and tiresomely uneventful, and Sunny Oak particularly reveled in
+an impotent peevishness which held him intensely sulky. The widower,
+too, was feeling anything but amiable. What with his recent futile
+work on a claim which was the ridicule of the camp, and now the
+discomfort of a dreary journey, his feelings towards Wild Bill were
+none too cordial. Perhaps Toby was the most cheerful of the three. The
+matters of the Trust had been a pleasant break in the daily routine of
+dispossessing himself of remittances from his friends in the East. And
+the unusual effort made him feel good.
+
+They had reached the crown of the hill bordering the valley, where the
+trail debouched upon the prairie beyond, and the effort of easing his
+horse, as the struggling beast clawed its way up the shelving slope,
+at last set loose the tide of the loafer's ill-temper. He suddenly
+turned upon his companions, his angry face dirty and sweating.
+
+"Say," he cried, "of all the blamed fules I'd say we three was the
+craziest ever pupped."
+
+Sandy turned inquiring, contemptuous eyes in his direction. He always
+adopted a defensive attitude when Sunny opened out. Toby only grinned
+and waited for what was to come.
+
+"Meanin'?" inquired Sandy in his coldest manner.
+
+"Meanin'? Gee! it don't need a mule's intellec' to get my meanin',"
+said the loafer witheringly. "Wot, in the name o' glory, would I mean
+but this doggone ride we're takin'? Say, here's us three muttons
+chasin' glory on the tail o' two soppy lambs that ain't got savvee
+enough between 'em to guess the north end of a hoss when he's goin'
+south. An', wot's more, we're doin' it like a lot o' cluckin' hens
+chasin' a brood o' fule chicks. I tell you it jest makes me sick. An'
+ef I don't git six weeks' rest straight on end after this is thro'
+I'll be gettin' plumb 'bug,' or--or the colic, or suthin' ornery bum.
+I've done. Sufferin' Creek ain't no place fer a peace-lovin' feller
+like me, whose doin' all he knows to git thro' life easy an' without
+breakin' up a natterally delicate constitootion. I'm done. I quit."
+
+Sandy's face was a study in sneers. Not because he did not agree with
+the sentiments, but Sunny always irritated him. But Toby only grinned
+the harder, and for once, while the widower was preparing an adequate
+retort, contrived to forestall him.
+
+"Seems to me, Sunny, you ain't got a heap o' kick comin' to you," he
+said in his slow way. "I allow you come in this racket because you
+notioned it. Mebbe you'll say why you did it, else?"
+
+This unexpected challenge from Toby had the effect of diverting the
+widower's thoughts. He left the consideration of the snub he had been
+preparing for the loafer for some future time, and waited for the
+other's reply. But Sunny was roused, and stared angrily round upon the
+grinning face of his questioner.
+
+"Guess that ain't no affair of yours, anyway," he snorted. "I don't
+stand fer questions from no remittance guy. Gee! things is gittin'
+pretty low-down when it comes to that."
+
+"Maybe a remittance man ain't a first-class callin'," said Toby, his
+grin replaced by a hot flush. "But if it comes to that I'd say a lazy
+loafin' bum ain't a heap o' credit noways neither. Howsum, them things
+don't alter matters any. An' I, fer one, is sick o' your grouse--'cos
+that's all it is. Say, you're settin' ther' on top o' that hoss like a
+badly sculptured image that needs a week's bathin', an' talkin' like
+the no-account fule most fellers guess you to be. Wal, show us you
+ain't none o' them things, show us you got some sort of a man inside
+your hide, an' tell us straight why you're out on this doggone trail
+when you're yearnin' fer your blankets."
+
+The attack was so unexpected that for once Sunny had no reply ready.
+And Sandy positively beamed upon the challenger. And so they rode on
+for a few moments. Then Toby broke the silence impatiently.
+
+"Wal?" he inquired, his face wreathed in a grin that had none of the
+amiability usual to it.
+
+Sunny turned; and it was evident all his good-nature was restored. He
+had suddenly realized that to be baited by the fatuous Toby was
+almost refreshing, and he spoke without any sort of animosity. It
+would certainly have been different had the challenge come from the
+hectoring widower.
+
+"Why for do I do it--an' hate it? Say, that's jest one o' them things
+a feller can't tell. Y'see, a feller grouses thro' life, a-worritin'
+hisself 'cos things don't seem right by his way o' thinkin'. That's
+natteral. He guesses he wants to do things one way, then sudden-like,
+fer no reason he ken see, he gits doin' 'em another. That's natteral,
+too. Y'see, ther's two things, it seems to me, makes a feller act.
+One's his fool head, an' the other--well, I don't rightly know what
+the other is, 'cep' it's his stummick. Anyways, that's how it is. My
+head makes me want to go one way, an' my feet gits me goin' another.
+So it is with this lay-out. An' I guess, ef you was sure to git to
+rock-bottom o' things, I'd say we're all doin' this thing 'cos Wild
+Bill said so."
+
+He finished up with a chuckle that thoroughly upset the equilibrium of
+the widower, and set him jumping at the chance of retort.
+
+"Guess you're scairt to death o' Wild Bill," he sneered.
+
+"Wal," drawled Sunny easily, "I guess he's a feller wuth bein' scairt
+of--which is more than you are."
+
+Sandy snorted defiantly. But a further wordy war was averted by the
+remittance man.
+
+"Ther's more of a man to you than I allowed, Sunny," he said
+sincerely. "There sure is. Bill's a man, whatever else he is. He's
+sure the best man I've seen on Sufferin' Creek. But you're wrong 'bout
+him bein' the reason of us worritin' ourselves sick on this yer trail.
+It ain't your head which needs re-decoratin', neither. Nor it ain't
+your stummick, which, I allow, ain't the most wholesome part of you.
+Neither it ain't your splay feet. You missed it, Sunny, an' I allus
+tho't you was a right smart guy. The reason you're on this doggone
+trail chasin' glory wot don't never git around, is worryin' along in a
+buckboard ahead of us, behind ole Minky's mule, an' he's hoofin' to
+home at an express slug's gait. That's the reason you're on the trail,
+an' nothin' else. You're jest a lazy, loafin', dirty bum as 'ud make
+mud out of a fifty-gallon bath o' boilin' soapsuds if you was set in
+it, but you was mighty sore seein' pore Zip kicked to death by his
+rotten luck. An' feelin' that always you kind o' fergot to be tired.
+That's why you're on this doggone trail. 'Cos your fool heart ain't as
+dirty as your carkis."
+
+And as he fired his last word Toby dashed his spurs into the flanks of
+his jaded horse, and galloped out of reach of the tide of vituperation
+he knew full well to be flowing in his wake.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+
+THE LUCK OF SCIPIO
+
+
+Suffering Creek was again in a state of ferment. It seemed as if there
+were nothing but one excitement after another in the place now. No
+sooner was the matter of the gold-stage passed than a fresh
+disturbance was upon them. And again the established industry of the
+place was completely at a standstill. Human nature could no more
+withstand the infection that was ravaging the camp than keep cool
+under a political argument. The thing that had happened now was
+tremendous.
+
+Staid miners, old experienced hands whose lives were wedded to their
+quest of gold, whose interest in affairs was only taken from a
+standpoint of their benefit, or otherwise, to the gold interest, were
+caught in the feverish tide, and sent hurtling along with the rushing
+flood. Men whose pulses usually only received a quickening from the
+news of a fresh gold discovery now found themselves gaping with the
+wonder of it all, and asking themselves how it was this thing had
+happened, and if, indeed, it had happened, or were they dreaming.
+
+The whole thing was monstrous, stupendous, and here, happening in
+their midst, practically all Suffering Creek were out of it. But in
+spite of this the fever of excitement raged, and no one was wholly
+impervious to it. Opinions ran riot--opinions hastily conceived and
+expressed without consideration, which is the way of people whose
+nerves have been suddenly strung tight by a matter of absorbing
+interest. Men who knew nothing of the nature of things which could
+produce so astonishing a result found themselves dissecting causes and
+possibilities which did not exist, and never could exist. They hastily
+proceeded to lay down their own law upon the subject with hot
+emphasis. They felt it necessary to do this to disguise their lack of
+knowledge and restore their personal standing. For the latter, they
+felt, had been sorely shaken by this sudden triumph of those whom they
+had so lately ridiculed.
+
+And what was this wonderful thing that had happened? What was it that
+had set these hardened men crazy with excitement? It had come so
+suddenly, so mysteriously. It had come during the hours of darkness,
+when weary men hugged their blankets, and dreamed their dreams of the
+craft which made up their whole world.
+
+There was no noise, no epoch-making upheaval, no blatant trumpetings
+to herald its coming. And the discovery was made by a single man on
+his way to his work just after the great golden sun had risen.
+
+He was trailing his way along the creek bank over the road which led
+eventually to Spawn City. He was slouching along the wood-lined track
+at that swinging, laborious gait of a heavy-booted man. And his way
+lay across the oozy claim of Scipio.
+
+But he never reached the claim. Long before he came in view of it he
+found himself confronted with a sluggish stream progressing slowly
+along the beaten sand of the trail. For a moment he believed that the
+creek had, for some freakish reason, suddenly overflowed its banks.
+But this thought was swiftly swept aside, and he stood snuffing the
+air like some warhorse, and gaping at the stream as it lapped about
+his feet.
+
+It came on slowly but irresistibly. And ahead of him, and amongst the
+trailside bush, he beheld nothing but this rising flood. Then of a
+sudden something of its meaning penetrated his dazed comprehension,
+and, turning abruptly, he started to run for the higher ground. He
+sped swiftly through the surrounding bush, dodging tree-trunks, and
+threading his way circuitously in the direction where stood the great
+cut bank of quartz which backed Scipio's claim. The smell of the air
+had told him its tale, and he knew that he had made a wonderful, an
+astounding discovery. And with this knowledge had come the thought of
+his own possible advantage. Eagerly he began to seek the source of the
+flood.
+
+But his hopes were completely dashed the moment he reached the bank
+overlooking Scipio's claim. There lay the source of the flood, right
+in the heart of the little man's despised land. A great gusher of
+coal-oil was belching from the mouth of the shaft which Sandy Joyce
+had been at work upon, and the whole clearing, right from the oozy
+swamp beyond to the higher ground of the river bank, stealing its way
+along trail and through bush, lay a vast shallow lake of raw
+coal-oil.
+
+The disappointed man waited just sufficiently long to realize the
+magnitude of Scipio's luck, and then set off at a run for the camp.
+
+And in half-an-hour the camp was in a raging fever. In half-an-hour
+nearly the whole of Suffering Creek had set out for the claim, that
+they might see for themselves this wonderful thing that had happened.
+In half-an-hour the whole thing was being explained in theory by
+everybody to everybody else. In half-an-hour everybody was inquiring
+for Scipio, and each and all were desirous of being first to convey
+the news.
+
+And when it was discovered that Scipio was from home, and knew nothing
+of his good fortune, a fresh thought came to every mind. What had
+become of him? They learned that he had borrowed Minky's buckboard,
+and had driven away. And immediately in the public mind crept an
+unexpressed question. Had Zip abandoned the place in the face of his
+ill-luck, and, if so, what about this gigantic oil find?
+
+However, there was nothing to be done at present but wait. The flow of
+oil could not be checked, and the tremendous waste must go on. The
+gusher would flow on until the pressure below lessened, and after that
+it would die down, and require pumps to further exhaust it.
+
+So the camp resigned itself to a contemplation of this wonderful new
+industry that had sprung up unsought in their midst; and the luck of
+Scipio was upon everybody's lips. Nor was there only the wonder of it
+in every mind, for, after the first feelings of envy and covetousness
+had passed away, the humor of the thing became apparent. And it was
+Joe Brand, in the course of discussing the matter with Minky, who
+first drew attention to the queer pranks which fortune sometimes
+plays.
+
+"Say, don't it lick creation?" he cried. "Can you beat it? No, sirree.
+It's the best ever--it sure is. Say, here's the worstest mule-head
+ever got foothold on this yer continent sets out to chase gold in a
+place no one outside a bug-house would ever find time to git busy, an'
+may I be skinned alive an' my bones grilled fer a cannibal's supper if
+he don't find sech a fortune in ile as 'ud set all the whole blamed
+world's ile market hatin' itself. Gee!"
+
+And Minky nodded his head. He also smiled slyly upon those who stood
+about him.
+
+"Ther' sure is elegant humor to most things in this yer life," he said
+dryly. "Which 'minds me Wild Bill bo't ha'f o' that claim o' Zip's
+'fore he set out fer Spawn City."
+
+And at his words somehow a curious thoughtfulness fell upon his
+hearers. Nor was there any responsive smile among them. The humor he
+spoke of seemed to have passed them by, leaving them quite untouched
+by its point. And presently they drifted away, joining other groups,
+where the reminder that Bill had been derided by the whole camp for
+his absurd purchase had an equally damping effect.
+
+But the day was to be more eventful even than the promise of the
+morning had suggested. And the second surprise came about noon.
+
+Excitement was still raging. Half the camp was down at Zip's claim
+watching the miracle of the oil gusher, and the other half was either
+on their way thither or returning from it. Some of them were gathering
+the raw oil in cans and tubs, others were hurrying to do so. And none
+of them quite knew why they were doing it, or what, if any, the use
+they could put the stuff to. They were probably inspired by the fact
+that there was the stuff going to waste by the hundreds of gallons,
+and they felt it incumbent upon them to save what they could. Anyway,
+it was difficult to tear themselves away from the fascinations of
+Nature's prodigal outburst, and so, as being the easiest and most
+pleasurable course, they abandoned themselves to it.
+
+So it was that Minky found his store deserted. He lounged idly out on
+to the veranda and propped himself against one of the posts. And,
+standing there, his thoughtful eyes roamed, subtly attracted to the
+spot where Zip's luck had demonstrated itself.
+
+He stood there for some time watching the hurrying figures of the
+miners as they moved to and fro, but his mind was far away. Somehow
+Zip's luck, in spite of the excessive figures which extravagant minds
+had estimated it at, only took second place with him. He was thinking
+of the man who had journeyed to Spawn City. He was worrying about him,
+his one and only friend.
+
+He had understood something of that self-imposed task which the
+gambler had undertaken, though its full significance had never quite
+been his. Now he felt that in some way he was responsible. Now he felt
+that the journey should never have been taken. He felt that he should
+have refused to ship his gold. And yet he knew full well that his
+refusal would have been quite useless. Wild Bill was a man whom
+opposition only drove the harder, and he would have contrived a means
+of carrying out his purpose, no matter what barred his way.
+
+However, even with this assurance he still felt uncomfortably
+regretful. His responsibility was no less, and for the life of him he
+could not rise to enthusiasm over this luck of Scipio's. It would have
+been different if Bill had been there to discuss the matter with him.
+
+And as the moments passed his spirits fell lower and lower, until at
+last a great depression weighed him down.
+
+It was in the midst of this depression, when, for the hundredth time,
+he had wished that his friend had never started out on his wild
+enterprise, that he suddenly found himself staring out across the
+river at the Spawn City trail. He stared for some moments, scarcely
+comprehending that at which he looked. Then suddenly he became aware
+of a horseman racing down the slope towards the river, and in a moment
+mind and body were alert, and he stood waiting.
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+Minky was still standing on his veranda. But he was no longer leaning
+against the post; he was holding a letter in his hand which he had
+just finished reading. It was a painful-looking document for all its
+neat, clear writing. It was stained with patches of dark red that were
+almost brown, and the envelope he held in his other hand was almost
+unrecognizable for the same hideous stain that completely covered it.
+
+The man who had delivered it was resting on the edge of the veranda.
+He had told his story; and now he sat chewing, and watching his weary
+horse tethered at the hitching-post a few yards away.
+
+"An' he drove that cart fer six hours--dead?" Minky asked, without
+removing his eyes from the blood-stained letter.
+
+"That's sure how I sed," returned the messenger, and went stolidly on
+with his chewing. The other breathed deeply.
+
+Then he read the letter over again. He read it slowly, so as to miss
+no word or meaning it might contain. And, curiously, as he read a
+feeling of wonder filled him at the excellence of the writing and
+composition. He did not seem to remember having seen Bill's writing
+before. And here the rough, hard-living gambler was displaying himself
+a man of considerable education. It was curious. All the years of
+their friendship had passed without him discovering that his gambling
+friend was anything but an illiterate ruffian of the West, with
+nothing but a great courage, a powerful personality and a moderately
+honest heart to recommend him.
+
+  "My Dear Minky,
+
+  "I'm dead--dead as mutton. Whether I'm cooked mutton, or raw, I
+  can't just say. Anyway, I'm dead--or you wouldn't get this
+  letter.
+
+  "Now this letter is not to express regrets, or to sentimentalize.
+  You'll agree that's not my way. Death doesn't worry me any. No,
+  this letter is just a 'last will and testament,' as the lawyers
+  have it. And I'm sending it to you because I know you'll see
+  things fixed right for me. You see, I put everything into your
+  hands for two reasons: you're honest, and you're my friend. Now,
+  seeing you're rich and prosperous I leave you nothing out of my
+  wad. But I'd like to hand you a present of my team--if they're
+  still alive--team and harness and cart. And you'll know, seeing I
+  always had a notion the sun, moon and stars rose and set in my
+  horses, the spirit in which I give them to you, and the regard I
+  had for our friendship. Be good to them, old friend.
+
+  For the rest, my dollars, and anything else I've got, I'd like
+  Zip's kids to have. They're bright kids, and I've got a notion for
+  them. And, seeing Zip's their father, maybe dollars will be useful
+  to them. You can divide things equally between them.
+
+  "And in conclusion you can tell Zip if he can do a good turn,
+  which I don't suppose he'll be able to, to either Sunny Oak, or
+  Sandy Joyce, or Toby Jenks, he'd best do it. Because he owes them
+  something he'll probably never hear about.
+
+  "This is the last will and testament, as the lawyers say, of
+
+                                             "Your old friend,
+                                                       "Wild Bill.
+                      "(A no-account gambler, late of Abilene.)"
+
+Minky looked up from the letter again, and his eyes were shadowed. He
+felt that that letter contained more of the gambler's heart than he
+would ever have allowed himself to display in life.
+
+And into his mind came many memories--memories that stirred him
+deeply. He was thinking of the days when he had first encountered Bill
+years ago, when the name of Wild Bill was a terror throughout Texas
+and the neighboring States. And he smiled as he remembered how a
+perturbed Government had been forced, for their own peace of mind, and
+for the sake of the peace of the country, to put this "terror" on the
+side of law and order, and make him a sheriff of the county. And then,
+too, he remembered the trouble Bill was always getting into through
+mixing up his private feuds with his public duties. Still, he was a
+great sheriff, and never was such order kept in the county.
+
+He turned again to the man at his side.
+
+"An' he got thro' with the gold?" he inquired slowly.
+
+"Jest as I sed," retorted the weary messenger. "Guess I helped sheriff
+to deposit it in the bank."
+
+"And he's dead?"
+
+The man stirred impatiently and spat.
+
+"Dead--as mutton."
+
+Minky sighed.
+
+"An' you come along the Spawn City trail?" he asked presently.
+
+"I ain't got wings."
+
+"An' you saw--?"
+
+"The birds flappin' around--nigh chokin' with human meat."
+
+The man laughed cynically.
+
+"Did you recognize--?"
+
+"I see James. He was dead--as mutton, too--an' all his gang. Gee! It
+must 'a' bin a hell of a scrap."
+
+The man spat out a stream of tobacco juice and rubbed his hands.
+
+"It sure must," agreed Minky. And he passed into the store.
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was dark when Scipio urged the old mule up the bank at the fork of
+the creek. He was very weary, and Jessie was asleep beside him, with
+her head pillowed upon his shoulder. His arm was about her, supporting
+her, and he sat rigid, lest the bumping of the rattling vehicle should
+waken her. The position for him was trying, but he never wavered.
+Cramped and weary as he was, he strove by every means in his power to
+leave her undisturbed.
+
+And as he passed the river three ghostly figures ambled down to the
+bank, and, after drinking their horses, likewise passed over. But
+while Scipio kept to the trail, they vanished amidst the woods. Their
+task was over, and they sought the shortest route to their homes.
+
+And so Scipio came to his claim. And such was his state of mind, so
+was he taken up with the happiness which the presence of his wife
+beside him gave him, and such was his delight in looking forward to
+the days to come, that he saw nothing of that which lay about him.
+
+The air to him was sweet with all the perfumes his thankful heart
+inspired in his thoughts. His road was a path of roses. The reek of
+oil was beyond his simple ken. Nor did he heed the slush, slush of his
+mule's feet, as the old beast floundered through the lake of oil
+spread out on all sides about him. The gurgling, the sadly bubbling
+gusher, even, might have been one of the fairy sounds of night, for
+all thought he gave to it.
+
+No; blind to all things practical as he always was, how was it
+possible that Scipio, leaving Suffering Creek a poor, struggling
+prospector, should realize by these outward signs that he had returned
+to it, possibly, a millionaire?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+
+HOME
+
+
+Scipio stood in the doorway of his hut with a hopelessly dazed look in
+his pale eyes and a perplexed frown upon his brow. He had just
+returned from Minky's store, whither he had been to fetch his twins
+home. He had brought them with him, leading them, one in each hand.
+And at sight of their mother they had torn themselves free from their
+father's detaining hands and rushed at her.
+
+Jessie, strangely subdued, but with a wonderful light of happiness in
+her eyes, was in the midst of "turning out" the bedroom. She had spent
+the whole morning cleaning and garnishing with a vigor, with a
+heartwhole enjoyment, such as never in all her married life had she
+displayed before. And now, as the children rushed at her, their piping
+voices shrieking their joyous greeting, she hugged them to her bosom
+as though she would squeeze their precious lives out of them. She
+laughed and cried at the same time in a way that only women in the
+throes of unspeakable joy can. Her words, too, were incoherent, as
+incoherent as the babble of the children themselves. It was a sight of
+mother-love rarely to be witnessed, a sight which, under normal
+conditions, must have filled the simple heart of Scipio with a joy and
+happiness quite beyond words.
+
+But just now it left him untouched, and as he silently looked on he
+passed one hand helplessly across his forehead. He pushed his hat back
+so that his stubby fingers could rake amongst his yellow hair. And
+Jessie, suddenly looking up from the two heads nestling so close
+against her bosom, realized the trouble in her husband's face. Her
+realization came with a swiftness that would have been impossible in
+those old days of discontent.
+
+"Why, Zip," she cried, starting to her feet and coming quickly towards
+him, "what--what's the matter? What's wrong?"
+
+But the little man only shook his head dazedly, and his eyes wandered
+from her face to the two silently staring children, and then to the
+table so carefully laid for the midday meal.
+
+"Here, sit down," Jessie hurried on, darting towards a chair and
+setting it for him beside the stove. "You're sick, sure," she
+declared, peering into his pale face, as he silently, almost
+helplessly, obeyed her. "It's the sun," she went on. "That's what it
+is--driving in the sun all yesterday. It's--it's been too much for
+you."
+
+Again the man passed a hand across his brow. But this time he shook
+his head.
+
+"'Tain't the sun, Jess," he said vaguely. "It's--it's oil!"
+
+For a moment the woman stared. Then she turned to the gaping twins,
+and hustled them out of the room to play. Poor Zip's head had suddenly
+gone wrong, she believed, and--
+
+But as she came back from the door she found that he had risen from
+the chair in which she had set him, and was standing looking at her,
+and through her, and beyond her, as though she were not there at all.
+And in an instant she was at his side, with an arm thrown protectingly
+about his shoulders.
+
+"Tell me, Zip--oh, tell me, dear, what's wrong? Surely--surely, after
+all that has gone--Oh, tell me! Don't keep me in suspense. Is--is it
+James?" she finished up in a terrified whisper.
+
+The mention of that detested name had instant effect. Scipio's face
+cleared, and the dazed look of his eyes vanished as if by magic. He
+shook his head.
+
+"James is dead," he said simply. And Jessie breathed a sigh of such
+relief that even he observed it, and it gladdened him. "Yes," he went
+on, "James is sure dead. Wild Bill done him up and his whole gang. But
+Bill's gone, too."
+
+"Bill, too?" Jessie murmured.
+
+Scipio nodded; and perplexity stole over his face again.
+
+"Yes. I--I don't seem to understand. Y'see, he done James up, an'--an'
+James done him up--sort o' mutual. Y'see, they told me the rights of
+it, but--but ther's so many things I--I don't seem to got room for
+them all in my head. It seems, too, that Bill had quite a piece of
+money. An' he's kind of given it to the kids. I--I don't--"
+
+"How much?" demanded the practical feminine.
+
+"Seventy thousand dollars," replied the bewildered man.
+
+"Seventy thou--Who told you?"
+
+"Why--Minky. Said he'd got it all. But--but that ain't the worst."
+
+"Worst?"
+
+Jessie was smiling now--smiling with that motherly, protecting
+confidence so wonderfully womanly.
+
+Scipio nodded; and his eyes sought hers for encouragement.
+
+"Ther's the oil, millions an' millions of it--gallons, I mean."
+
+"Oil? Millions of gallons? Oh, Zip, do--do be sensible."
+
+Jessie stood before him, and his worried look seemed to have found a
+reflection upon her handsome face.
+
+"It isn't me. It ain't my fault. It sure ain't, Jess," he declared
+wistfully. "I've seen it. It's there. My pore claim's jest drowned
+with it. I'll never find that gold now--not if I was to pump a year.
+It's just bubbling up an' up out o' the bowels of the earth, an'--an'
+Minky says I'll have to set up pumps an' things, an' he's goin' to
+help me. So is Sunny Oak, an' Toby, an' Sandy, an' he sez we'll find
+the gold sure if we pump the oil. Sez it's there, an' I'll be rich as
+Rockefeller an' all them millionaires. But I can't seem to see it, if
+the gold's drownded in that messy, smelly oil. Maybe you ken see.
+You're quicker'n me. You--"
+
+But Jessie never let him finish.
+
+"Oil?" she cried, her eyes swimming with tears of joy and gentle
+affection for the simple soul so incapable of grasping anything but
+his own single purpose. "Oil?" she cried. "Oh, Zip, don't you
+understand? Don't you see? It's oil--coal-oil. You've been searching
+for gold and found oil. And there's millions of dollars in coal-oil."
+
+But the little man's face dropped.
+
+"Seems a pity," he said dispiritedly. "I could 'a' swore ther' was
+gold there--I sure could. I'd have found it, too--if the oil hadn't
+washed us out. Bill thought so, too; an' Bill was right smart. Guess
+we'll find it, though, after we pumped the oil."
+
+Suddenly the woman reached out both arms and laid her hands upon his
+diminutive shoulders. Her eyes had grown very tender.
+
+"Zip," she cried gently, "Zip, I think God has been very good to me.
+He's been kinder to me than He has been to you. You deserve His
+goodness; I don't. And yet He's given me a man with a heart of--of
+gold. He's given me a man whose love I have trampled under-foot and
+flung away. He's given me a man who, by his own simple honesty, his
+goodness, has shown me the road to perfect happiness. He's given me
+all this in return for a sin that can never be wiped out--"
+
+But suddenly Scipio freed himself from the gentle grasp of her
+restraining hands, and caught her in his arms.
+
+"Don't you--don't you to say it, Jess," he cried, all his great love
+shining in his eyes. His perplexity and regret were all gone now, and
+only had he thought of his love. "Don't you to say nuthin' against
+yourself. You're my wife--my Jessie. An' as long as I've got life I
+don't want nothin' else--but my Jessie. Say, gal, I do love you."
+
+"And--and--oh, if you can only believe me, Zip, I love you."
+
+The man reached up and drew the woman's face down to his, and kissed
+her on the lips.
+
+"It don't matter 'bout not finding that gold now," he cried, and
+kissed her again.
+
+"No, it--"
+
+"Say, momma, ain't it dinner yet?"
+
+"Ess, me want din-din."
+
+The man and woman sprang guiltily apart before the wondering eyes of
+their children, and the next moment both of the small creatures were
+caught up and hugged in loving arms.
+
+"Why, sure, kiddies," cried Scipio, his face wreathed in happy smiles.
+"Momma's got dinner all fixed--so come right along."
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Twins of Suffering Creek, by Ridgwell Cullum
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