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| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-07 13:54:35 -0800 |
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diff --git a/old/55360-h/55360-h.htm b/old/55360-h/55360-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 836e1e5..0000000 --- a/old/55360-h/55360-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,21316 +0,0 @@ -<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> - -<!DOCTYPE html - PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > - -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> - <title>Where Your Treasure Is, by Holman Day</title> - <meta content="pg2html (binary v0.17)" /> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> - - body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} - P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .75em; margin-bottom: .75em; } - H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } - hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} - .foot { margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%; text-align: justify; font-size: 80%; font-style: italic;} - blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} - .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} - .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} - .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} - .xx-small {font-size: 60%;} - .x-small {font-size: 75%;} - .small {font-size: 85%;} - .large {font-size: 115%;} - .x-large {font-size: 130%;} - .indent5 { margin-left: 5%;} - .indent10 { margin-left: 10%;} - .indent15 { margin-left: 15%;} - .indent20 { margin-left: 20%;} - .indent25 { margin-left: 25%;} - .indent30 { margin-left: 30%;} - .indent35 { margin-left: 35%;} - .indent40 { margin-left: 40%;} - div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } - div.middle { margin-left: 20%; - margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } - .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} - .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} - .pagenum {position: absolute; right: 1%; font-size: 0.6em; - font-variant: normal; font-style: normal; - text-align: right; background-color: #FFFACD; - border: 1px solid; padding: 0.3em;text-indent: 0em;} - .side { float: left; font-size: 75%; width: 15%; padding-left: 0.8em; - border-left: dashed thin; text-align: left; - text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; - font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} - .head { float: left; font-size: 90%; width: 98%; padding-left: 0.8em; - border-left: dashed thin; text-align: center; - text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; - font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} - p.pfirst, p.noindent {text-indent: 0} - span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 0.8 } - pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} - -</style> - </head> - <body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Where Your Treasure Is, by Holman Day - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Where Your Treasure Is - Being the Personal Narrative of Ross Sidney, Diver - -Author: Holman Day - -Release Date: August 15, 2017 [EBook #55360] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHERE YOUR TREASURE IS *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - - - - - -</pre> - - <div style="height: 8em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h1> - WHERE YOUR TREASURE IS - </h1> - <h3> - Being the Personal Narrative of Ross Sidney, Diver - </h3> - <h2> - By Holman Day - </h2> - <h4> - New York And London: Harper Brothers - </h4> - <h3> - 1917 - </h3> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0001.jpg" alt="0001 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0001.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0010.jpg" alt="0010 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0010.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0003" id="linkimage-0003"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0011.jpg" alt="0011 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0011.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <p> - <b>CONTENTS</b> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> WHERE YOUR TREASURE IS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> I—BEING THE STRUGGLE OF AN AMATEUR AUTHOR - TO GET A FAIR START </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> II—ENDING WITH A MEETING ON PURGATORY HILL - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> III—ON ACCOUNT OF A GIRL </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> IV—THE TRAINING OF THE QUEEN OF “SHEBY” - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> V—SHOOING AWAY A SCAPEGOAT </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> VI—HAVING TO DO WITH JODREY VOSE’s MAKING - OP A DIVER </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> VII—THE PSYCHOLOGY OF A PLUG-HAT| </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> VIII—“TAKING IT OUT” ON A SUIT OF CLOTHES - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> IX—A GRISLY GAME OF BOWLS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> X—THE ART OF PUTTING ON A FRONT </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> XI—THE FAILURE OF AN UNCLE-TAMER </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> XII—STARTING SOMETHING IN LEVANT </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> XIII—THE MAN WHO TALKED IN THE DARK </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> XIV—THE KICK-BACKS IN THIS SAMARITAN - BUSINESS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> XV—A TIP FROM MR. DAWLIN </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> XVI—GRABBING A HUSBAND AND FATHER </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> XVII—MONEY HAS LEGS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> XVIII—THE ECCENTRICITIES OF ROYAL CITY - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> XIX—THE JOB Of AN ALTRUIST </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> XX—ACROSS CALLAS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> XXI—THE SKIRMISH-LINE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> XXII—MONEY ON THE GALLOP </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0024"> XXIII—THE CLEAN-UP </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0025"> XXIV—HOW SWEET IS THE HOME-COMING, EH? - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0026"> XXV—GRATITUDE! </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0027"> XXVI—CAPTAIN HOLSTROM ET AL. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0028"> XXVII—MR. BEASON HORNS IN </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0029"> XXVIII—SORTING THE CHECKER-BOARD CREW </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0030"> XXIX—THE TELLTALE RIBS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0031"> XXX—THE LOCKS OF THE SAND </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0032"> XXXI—A TASTE OF BLOOD </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0033"> XXXII—PER MISTER MONKEY </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0034"> XXXIII—THE HEART OF THE MILLIONS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0035"> XXXIV—AMONG THIEVES </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0036"> XXXV—SUBMARINE PICKPOCKETS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0037"> XXXVI—THE TERROR FROM THE NORTH </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0038"> XXXVII—THE FRUIT OF THE TREE OF KNOWLEDGE - </a> - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h1> - WHERE YOUR TREASURE IS - </h1> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - I—BEING THE STRUGGLE OF AN AMATEUR AUTHOR TO GET A FAIR START - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">S</span>PEAKING of money—and - it’s a mighty popular topic—the investment of the first twenty-five - cents I ever earned, all at a crack, ought to have directed my feet, my - thoughts, and my future along the straight and narrow way. Ten minutes - after I had galloped gleefully home with that quarter-dollar from Judge - Kingsley’s hay-field, my good mother led me down to Old Maid Branscombe’s - little book-store and obliged me to buy a catechism. - </p> - <p> - I earned that money by hauling a drag-rake for a whole day around behind a - hay-cart, barefoot and kicking against the vicious stubbles of the shaven - field. I honestly felt that I did not deserve the extra penance of the - catechism. However, that first day’s work gave me my earliest respect for - money—earned money. And I also remember that Judge Kingsley, when he - paid me, sniffed and said I hadn’t done enough to earn twenty-five cents. - </p> - <p> - I hated to walk up to him and ask for my pay, because Celene Kingsley was - within hearing; she had come down to the field to fetch him home in her - pony-chaise. That’s right! You’ve guessed it! I’ll waste no words. It was - only another of the old familiar cases. Barefooted, folks poor, keeping my - face toward her, as a sunflower fronts the sun (though the sunflower has - other reasons than hiding patches), I was in the shamed, secret, hopeless, - heartaching agonies of a fifteen-year-old passion. Of course, I don’t mean - that I had loved her for all that time—I’m giving my age and hers. - </p> - <p> - Yes, I hated to walk up. And the judge gave me the quarter only because he - did not have any smaller change. - </p> - <p> - And really, for the times, it was considerable of a coin for a single - juvenile job. - </p> - <p> - The services of youngsters in those days in Levant were paid for on a - narrower scale—ten cents for lawns and a nickel for shoveling snow, - and so on. And tin-peddlers were mighty stingy in their dickerings for old - rubbers and junk. To get rags one had to steal ’em—our folks - made rugs and guarded old remnants carefully. - </p> - <p> - So much for my first financial adventure of real moment—for the - biggest coin I had ever clutched; and right now I lay down my pen for a - moment and spread out two human paws which have juggled three million - dollars’ worth of gold ingots as carelessly as one scruffles jackstraws. - That was maverick treasure. But there’s a big difference between earned - money and maverick money. If you don’t know what maverick means I’ll save - you the trouble of looking the word up in the dictionary. Once on a time, - in Texas, old Sam Maverick wouldn’t brand his cattle. Therefore, a - maverick was a cow or steer unbranded. And to-day it means any kind of - property at large which a bold man or a dishonest man may grab if he can - beat other thieves to it. - </p> - <p> - I had an early taste of maverick money, and the taste was so sweet that I - never have lost my hankering for more. - </p> - <p> - In the fall of that “year of the catechism” the line gale blew down the - chimney which had stood after the old Pratt house was burned. I was there - before the dust settled, for all the boys knew that there were - wrought-iron clamps high up in the bricks. But I left the clamps to the - next comers and picked up a dented tin box, rusty and dusty and - soot-blackened; I shook it; it rattled and I ran away into the woods. When - I had knocked the box open and looked in and spied coins I had the - heart-thrilling conviction that money worries were over for me in this - life. My first thought was that I would marry Celene Kingsley and settle - down and live happy ever after. If there had been in the box what I - thought at first there was, I could wipe my pen and close my story. - </p> - <p> - I dove both hands into the box and brought them up brimming—coins - scattering and clattering back over my trembling fingers. They were big - coins—and I had read much about the days of the bold pirates. - </p> - <p> - “Pieces of eight!” I whispered. - </p> - <p> - But they were not. When I had winked the mist out of my eyes I found that - they were old-fashioned coppers—bung-downs they used to be called. - Mixed in with them were a few copper tokens, a Pine Tree shilling, a - sprinkling of Speed The Plow cents, and the only coin of any account at - all was a Mexican dollar with a hole in it. - </p> - <p> - It wasn’t in my nature to bury that treasure. I knew it was pretty - worthless junk, but I had a hankering to carry it about with me, to feel - its drag in my pockets, to reach in and chink it when no one could hear. I - walked around weighted with it as afterward I have been weighted with the - leaden chunks of my diver’s dress. As early as that in my life I found - that money was a burden as well as a vexation. I didn’t dare to frisk and - frolic with the boys at school; I was not exploiting my new wealth; I had - grounds for caution because there were plenty of Pratts left in Levant. At - home I moved about so quietly that my folks thought, I reckon, that I was - entering an early decline. My mother used to look at my tongue quite often - and made me drink hardhack tea. - </p> - <p> - But there is one impulse in the male animal which is not easily controlled - by prudence; it’s that cursed itch to make a show in front of the female - of the species—in front of the special one, the selected one, the - beloved one. Some sort of a jimcrack-peddler came into the school-yard one - noon, and Celene Kingsley, daughter of a plutocrat, tendered a big, shiny - silver dollar and the man could not change it for her. I walked up, - trembling with both pride and panic, and said, trying my best to act the - part of a matter-of-fact bank on two legs, “Let me handle it for you!” It - was the first time I had ever spoken to her, and my voice was only a weak - squawk. - </p> - <p> - When she turned to me and opened her big, blue eyes, I was nigh to running - away. - </p> - <p> - The boys and girls came crowding around, and I couldn’t blame them for - showing interest; the sight of a Levant Sidney with money on him was a new - one in town. - </p> - <p> - I had separated from the coppers the aristocrats of my hoard, the Pine - Tree shilling and the Mexican dollar, by wrapping them in a wisp of paper. - I brought them out first. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t know exactly what they are worth in real money,” I told her. “But - you can have ’em at half price.” - </p> - <p> - She had been considerably surprised before, but now she was plain - dumfounded. That system of changing a dollar was brand new. - </p> - <p> - Then I dredged a trousers pocket and produced a handful of the bung-down - coppers. I began to count them down on a corner of the school-house steps. - </p> - <p> - “Somebody get a wheelbarrow,” advised one of the boys. “That’s the only - way she’ll ever tug-a-lug her change home.” - </p> - <p> - “Really, you needn’t bother,” she said, stammering a little. “No, don’t - trouble yourself. I have changed my mind about buying anything.” - </p> - <p> - They all laughed. - </p> - <p> - “That isn’t money,” said the jimcrack man. “I’d never take that stuff for - my goods.” - </p> - <p> - A girl ran up and grabbed into the coppers I had been, heaping on the - stone. She was a Pratt. - </p> - <p> - “Ross Sidney, you stole that money,” she squealed. “It was in my granny’s - notion-box. We couldn’t find it after she died. You stole it!” - </p> - <p> - “I didn’t steal it—I found it,” I told her. But all the courage had - gone out of me. - </p> - <p> - “You ain’t the first thief to lie about your stealings.” - </p> - <p> - “But I did find it—I found it after the chimney blew down.” - </p> - <p> - “You knew it was ours. You didn’t bring it to us—that’s stealing.” - </p> - <p> - “It might have been put there before—” - </p> - <p> - “It was my granny’s money. Don’t you suppose I know? She saved old - coppers.” She spread down her handkerchief and began to pile the coins - upon it. - </p> - <p> - There did not seem to be any room for argument. In my shame I fell to - wondering how I had ever convinced myself that this money was - treasure-trove. I dug down and gave her the rest of it. Instead of proudly - showing myself a person of means before Celene Kingsley I was. barely - escaping the suspicion of being a thief. - </p> - <p> - “If it belongs to the Pratts you’re welcome to it,” I said. “I don’t want - anything which belongs to somebody else.” - </p> - <p> - “You’d better remember as much the next time you find money,” snapped the - Pratt girl. “Your conscience will be easier when you die.” - </p> - <p> - They say that dying men live over their lives in a. flash—that’s so! - When I was dying in black darkness, five fathoms deep under the waters of - the Pacific, with a bar of gold in either hand, I remembered what that - Pratt girl said to me that day in the glory of the autumn sunshine, my - face as red as a frost-touched leaf; it was the day of my bitterest - humiliation; I slunk off without daring to look at Celene Kingsley. - </p> - <p> - I think I know what my main mistake was in my first attempts at writing - this tale; I tried to tell the story as if it had happened to somebody - else and the thing was stiffer than a mud-caked tug-line and squealed like - a rusty windlass. Of course, I hate to be saying “I” here, there, and - everywhere—but there’ll come a place in my tale—you’ll think - of it if ever you get as far as that—where there’d be nothing to the - story unless you could see with my eyes and feel with my hands. So, bear - with me and I’ll reel off the yarn as best I know how, making no apologies - after this confession. - </p> - <p> - Oh, about that first maverick money I ran afoul of! I never saw that money - again, of course. - </p> - <p> - But I did happen to meet Ben Pratt right in front of Judge Kingsley’s - house. I’ll not say how big Ben Pratt was, because you’ll think this is - only a bragging story. He called me a thief and I decided it was about - time to show Levant that the name was not a popular one with me. - </p> - <p> - I licked him: - </p> - <p> - Judge Kingsley rushed out with a horsewhip and lashed us apart just as I - was finishing Ben up. - </p> - <p> - “Young Sidney, you’re a cheeky, tough, brazen character,” said the judge. - I did not answer him. - </p> - <p> - It is my nature to take a big lot from all women, considerable from some - men, and devilish little from most men. I had nothing at all to say to - Celene Kingsley’s father, even though I was rubbing half a dozen swelling - welts where his whip had connected with the back of my neck. - </p> - <p> - “You come of a tough family,” stated the judge. - </p> - <p> - Right then my uncle Deck arrived at the party; he had been watching the - thing from the tavern porch. - </p> - <p> - “What’s that you say about our family?” he asked the judge. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t care to stand here and quarrel with you, Decker Sidney.” - </p> - <p> - “When you horsewhip my dead brother’s boy in the main street you’ll come - pretty nigh to having a quarrel with me, seeing that his own father can’t - protect him.” - </p> - <p> - “I merely came out here and stopped a fight which was disgracing our - village.” - </p> - <p> - “It’s a nice thing for one of the ‘forty thieves’ to talk about disgracing - a village,” said my uncle. - </p> - <p> - As young as I was I knew what was meant when folks called Judge Kinglsey - one of the forty thieves. He belonged to the syndicate that had grabbed - the State’s principal railroad away from the original shareholders; there - was political shenanigan and a good deal of foreclosure trickery. I never - understood the details, but the fact remained that the syndicate got the - railroad. - </p> - <p> - “A cheap slur from a cheap man,” said the judge, walking away. - </p> - <p> - I can’t say that I resented that remark very deeply, though I suppose - family loyalty should have prompted me to do so. I never in my life came - close to my uncle Deck when he did not have the smell of liquor on his - breath: On each side of his nose there was a patch of perfectly lurid - crimson. He was a horse-trader and he made considerable money. - </p> - <p> - “That slur of <i>yours</i> is a high-priced one,” my uncle shouted. “I - have my eye on you, you old hypocrite. There’ll come a day when that slur - will cost you more than you can afford to pay. That’s how high-priced it - is, Judge Kingsley.” - </p> - <p> - I didn’t know what my uncle meant then. - </p> - <p> - It was a wicked time for me when I did find out, a long while afterward. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - II—ENDING WITH A MEETING ON PURGATORY HILL - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">M</span>Y mother was a - good woman—a thrifty, kindly, helpful woman, a good neighbor, in - spite of her poverty. - </p> - <p> - My short temper, my cheeky disposition, my generally ready impulse to grab - in on short notice, all belong to the Sidney side, I guess. All we know of - the family has come down by word of mouth, and I suspect that the first - rovers who came over in the old days when New England was really new were - pretty tough characters who had plenty of original nerve to start with and - then developed more as occasion required. Well, some of that sort had to - come on ahead and smooth things with the ax and crowbar—yes, and - with the musket, so that the country could get a good running start. - </p> - <p> - My mother was a good neighbor, I repeat. Up in the attic, hanging in dried - bunches from the beams, were spearmint, thoroughwort, hardback, mullein, - pennyroyal, and other pasture herbs which she sent me forth to gather. Her - thoroughwort syrup was guaranteed to cure any case of whooping-cough—and - she gave freely to all who came to her. - </p> - <p> - My father was a helpful sort of a man in his own way. He used to volunteer - as boss of all the barn-raising bees in our section—but his enemies, - made up of a considerable army of the men whom he had licked in his life, - said, behind his back, that the only reason he had for helping at a - barn-raising was to show off by running the ridgepole first of all the - crew, and then to start the regular free fight. He fell off a ridge-pole - one day and my mother was widowed. - </p> - <p> - I take it that her chief ambition in life was to tame the Sidney - disposition in me—that earnest desire explaining my involuntary - investment in the catechism. My mother’s axioms and teachings would have - made excellent addenda and foot-notes for any catechism. Always did she - counsel me to count ten before speaking angry word or performing angry - act; I don’t remember that I ever did as she told me, though the Lord - Himself knows how much I have suffered in my life on account of that lack - of self-restraint. Two days after I bought the catechism my good mother - thought it was having its effect on my nature. She saw a boy heave a rock - at me in our door-yard and I stood perfectly motionless and speechless. - </p> - <p> - “That’s right, my own son! Count your ten!” she called to me. - </p> - <p> - But just at that moment a bumblebee was crawling around over my bare foot - and I was in no mind to disturb him. Therefore, my enemy was enabled to - collect a full supply of rock ammunition and to defy and rout me when at - last I was free from the restraint of the bumblebee. It would have been - the same if I had waited to count ten. Somehow, as the world is - constituted, I have never taken much stock in this watchful-waiting game - while your enemy is hustling to pile up his ammunition and you know he is - doing so. I may be wrong. Maybe this story of mine will show that I’m - wrong. But I hear you say, let’s get on to the story! - </p> - <p> - I mean to do so at once; but if I have paused to pull the curtain aside - from my family and my character a bit you may be able to understand some - parts of the story a mite better, because, in spite of that catechism, in - spite of mother-influence, and perhaps mother-goodness deep down in me, I - have butted into adventures which you will not find set down in the - volumes of any well-conducted Sunday-school library. - </p> - <p> - I didn’t have my mother long, after my fifteenth birthday. - </p> - <p> - I was her sole heir; five minutes before she closed her eyes she gave me - all her little fortune—to wit, the sweetest smile good mother ever - left to bless memory of her, a pat on my hand, a few whispered words in my - ear. - </p> - <p> - And then Uncle Deck took me in hand to make a man of me, so he said. - </p> - <p> - He wasn’t all bad—don’t understand me as saying that. He would pass - a sleepless night if he failed to cheat a man in a horse trade, but he - would sell his shirt before he would allow any old folks in our town to go - onto the poor-farm. He would sneak around with wood and groceries after - dark, that big, red face of his like a harvest moon, and when they would - start to thank him he would curse the miserable old creatures so horribly - that my blood used to run cold. He prided himself on language which, so he - said, “would break up a Sunday-school picnic if a little bird sat overhead - and twittered it out of a tree.” He saved his choicest profanity for his - comments on Judge Zebulon Kingsley. His hatred went far back. I don’t know - what started it. Perhaps it began in the natural antipathy such a man as - Uncle Deck would entertain for a cold, proud, punctilious, professedly - religious man like the judge. Uncle Deck would have it that the judge was - a hypocrite, a thief at heart, and my uncle’s constant boast was that some - day he would show the judge up; but all that vaporing seemed to be silly - spite, without foundation. Judge Kingsley was our rich man; he had been - judge of probate, and after retiring from that office he was trusted with - funds as a sort of private banker; folks whose estates he had handled as - judge just naturally insisted on his keeping control; and he had been town - treasurer of Levant for years. - </p> - <p> - I hated to hear my uncle rave on about such a man; it was as irritating as - the barking of a cur. - </p> - <p> - I have said that my uncle was a horse-trader. Rather, he was a general - country dickerer, if you know the kind. He dealt in everything from a - sheet of fly-paper to a clap of thunder. He had car-loads of horses sent - to him from the West and peddled those to farmers, taking cash or bills of - sale or produce or second-hand furniture or anything else which he could - turn in a trade. He set me to peddling and collecting, and it was a mean - job. At first I used to believe everything which debtors or sellers would - tell me, and the result was that Uncle Deck bawled me out most dreadfully; - and thus being abused by both parties, I got so at last that I believed - nobody. - </p> - <p> - Therefore I was in a fair way to be made just the sort of man Uncle Deck - desired me to be. - </p> - <p> - And continually, after I was sufficiently hardened, he impressed on me - that I mustn’t be bothering him all the time, asking this and that about - running the business. I must act for myself and then report to him when he - called for an accounting. You shall see how his trying to make a man of me - in this fashion turned me into ways which neither he nor I could have - forecast. Don’t tell me that the activities of this life are very much a - matter of individual election, after all. To be sure, a man might elect to - live a hermit and might get away with the job in good shape; but if a - person throws himself into the ruck of the living, into the running of - humanity, he’ll be apt to find himself leaping from crag to crag because - he has been shooed or jarred. - </p> - <p> - I ran up against one Juvenal Bird, newly come to town from the rural - fastnesses of Vienna plantation—plantation meaning an unorganized - township. I had never heard of Mr. Bird, and when he came within range of - my vision I rather wondered because I had not; he seemed to be a person of - some importance. To be sure, his frock suit was rusty and his plug-hat was - fuzzy, but the garb was distinctive. - </p> - <p> - Mr. Bird was in search of furniture and I showed him our second-hand - stock; he ordered liberally and largely—especially largely. He took - the biggest stove, the largest bedsteads, the most expansive tables, and - bureaus of breadth. That plug-hat impressed me. When he told me to send - the goods out to his house on the Tumble-dick Road, and to call for the - pay at my convenience, I did not presume to ask for an advance instalment, - after our usual custom. - </p> - <p> - I promptly found out that this was one affair of business with which I - should have bothered my busy uncle, who knew all the cheats of the - section. - </p> - <p> - Mr. Bird was one of the most notable cheats. His raiment was garb - discarded by an up-country parson, who pitied Mr. Bird after the latter - had been evicted from timber-lands as a dangerous squatter, careless of - fire. Mr. Bird installed the furniture in a shack which he had hired, then - acted as his own carpenter and narrowed all the doors and the windows. I - went out after the money and learned that the law provides for the - replevin of furniture, but does not allow a house to be mutilated in order - to remove the furniture. Mr. Bird grinned at me through a cracked window - and thumbed his nose. - </p> - <p> - When I reported to my uncle he told me to go and get it. I refrain from - quoting the words in which he voiced that command. - </p> - <p> - “But the law says—” I ventured. - </p> - <p> - Again I suppress details. My uncle Deck’s opinion of the law would lack - authority. - </p> - <p> - However, being a Sidney, and resenting Mr. Bird’s betrayal of my - innocence, and needing a home and a job, I accepted my uncle’s opinion of - the law for the time being. I collected a gang of my boy intimates. We - went in the night and ripped the stuffing out of Mr. Bird’s nest. - </p> - <p> - There’s a queer kind of senseless and secret gratification in doing a mob - job. The human animal has a lot of primeval instincts which need tickling - once in a while. I reckon we boys gratified the wolf streak on that - occasion, running in a pack in the night-time. - </p> - <p> - We enjoyed it so much that we held a meeting a night or so later and - organized ourselves as the “Skokums.” I can’t remember how we happened to - light on that name. I was chosen as leader. - </p> - <p> - That first sortie was a great success—Mr. Bird was not in a position - to prosecute. We had had a wonderful night, had defied the law, and had - escaped punishment. - </p> - <p> - Judge Kingsley was the only man in town who proclaimed indignation loudly - and openly. He expressed himself before a crowd in the post-office and - declared that hoodlums had disgraced the town of Levant. He looked - straight at me and said he would give a reward of ten dollars for evidence - on which the ringleader could be convicted. - </p> - <p> - “And I would give one thousand dollars to pay for law to set him free,” - said my uncle. - </p> - <p> - “Some day the plug-uglies will be rooted out of this place—and good - riddance to ’em,” snarled the judge. - </p> - <p> - “The snout that goes rooting into that business will get twisted off’n the - face of the rooter,” retorted my uncle. He was never very choice in his - language. How those crimson patches on his face did glow and how his eyes - sparkled! - </p> - <p> - So, it will be seen, I was not getting on at all with my love-affair. - </p> - <p> - It is pretty presumptuous in me to refer to it as a love-affair. That - would intimate—calling it that—a bit of reciprocation on the - part of Celene Kingsley. But she never showed any visible interest in me, - even to looking my way when she met me on the street. I would have liked - to attract her attention, for at last I wore shoes and had clothes without - patches on them. - </p> - <p> - The Skokums flourished under cover of the night. - </p> - <p> - There was Oramandel Bangs. He was rather simple, and always carried his - mouth open, and nobody in Levant ever forgot that once a hornet flew in - and stung his tongue and it swelled and stuck out of his mouth for days - like the end of a bologna sausage. - </p> - <p> - Oramandel had a sneaking suspicion that witchcraft had never been wholly - stamped out by his forefathers in New England. - </p> - <p> - We decided to convince him that he was right—there’s nothing like - clinching a man’s faith in the good judgment of his ancestors. - </p> - <p> - We hoisted one of his calves into an apple-tree. He “unwitched” the animal - by cutting off its ears and tail before taking it down from the tree. - </p> - <p> - We tied cords to his ox-chains and hid ourselves and slashed the chains - about the dooryard; he ran to the neighbors and reported that the witches - had changed his chains into big snakes. We did a lot more things, and then - imagination began to do the rest for him. He said the witches wouldn’t - allow him to do his farm-work, even though he had sumac-wood splinters in - all his tools and stuck shears around his chum to make the butter come. - Before we realized what mischief a lively imagination can do to a man, - they were obliged to carry the old chap away to the asylum for the insane. - </p> - <p> - And again Judge Kingsley held forth in the post-office. I guess he did a - lot of talking at home, too. - </p> - <p> - At any rate, Celene Kingsley was mighty well posted, so I discovered. - </p> - <p> - I met her on Purgatory Hill one day—and never did that name seem to - apply so well! I had been out on my uncle’s business, and among other - plunder in the beach-wagon were two shotes in a crate, and they certainly - were taking on about leaving home and mother. - </p> - <p> - She was alone in her pony-chaise and the shaggy little brute she drove was - frightened—and I didn’t blame him. I pulled as far into the gutter - as I could and waited; I poked the butt of my whip into the crate and - prodded those shotes, but that only made them screech the louder. - </p> - <p> - So she came leading her pony past me. I didn’t expect that she would stop - and speak to me, but she did. I nearly fell off my seat. And she called me - “Mr. Sidney.” It was the first time anybody had ever given me a handle to - my name. I had pulled my hat off when I saw her coming; when she spoke to - me I put it back on again and then took it off so that I could show her - that I knew a little something about manners. However, I wasn’t at all - sure just what I was doing; my head was in a whirl, and I was damning - those pigs in my heart. - </p> - <p> - “I thank you, Mr. Sidney,” she said. “Pedro acts like a fool sometimes.” - </p> - <p> - Two hours afterward, I guess it was, I thought of just the right reply to - that remark; as it was, I didn’t say anything to her. I couldn’t. - </p> - <p> - She started on and then stopped and looked at me. - </p> - <p> - Perhaps she guessed something—I don’t know. Girls can act as if they - never notice anything and still they have an eye out all the time; and - what they don’t see they know by instinct. At any rate, there was a lot of - kindness in her face, and perhaps there was pity in her thoughts. - </p> - <p> - “I’m afraid I am very bold, Mr. Sidney. I hope you’ll forgive me for - speaking to you.” - </p> - <p> - She hesitated. Right there was another beautiful chance for me to say the - good thing which came to me that night after I was in bed. All I could do - at the time was duck my head. - </p> - <p> - “I’d hate to have any of the boys who went to school with me get into - trouble on account of their thoughtlessness. I’m sure it’s only - thoughtlessness and skylarking. But older folks, you know, don’t - understand and cannot sympathize with young folks. Now you won’t tell - anybody that I told you something, will you?” - </p> - <p> - Just think of it! A secret between Celene Kingsley and myself! - </p> - <p> - I gulped and shook my head. - </p> - <p> - “Won’t you tell the boys—you’ll know just how to pass the word—that - folks are talking of having a detective to watch the village nights?” She - probably saw that I was incapable of uttering a sound and she went on, - hurrying her words. “Mr. Sidney, of course you understand that I am not - picking you out as the ringleader. That’s not why I am asking you to pass - the word. But I know you are popular among the boys. They all speak so - well of you! And I was so sorry when I heard that your dear mother had - passed on. I wanted to write a bit of a note, but they are very strict at - the boarding-school—we are not allowed to write to young gentlemen.” - </p> - <p> - Think of two shotes, squalling their heads off, furnishing accompaniment - to that! But I’ll say this of the shotes, they had spirit enough to use - their voices—I was dumb. - </p> - <p> - “It would be terrible to have anybody arrested here in Levant for boyish - pranks—it’s all thoughtlessness, I’m sure. You and I ought to be - able to straighten everything out.” - </p> - <p> - I stood up. - </p> - <p> - “Enough said!” I shouted. - </p> - <p> - She flinched. Then I realized just how I must have sounded, for she said, - “I didn’t mean to make you angry!” - </p> - <p> - I couldn’t blame her for mistaking my looks; I was so mad at myself that I - wanted to lash my back with my own whip. - </p> - <p> - “No, no, no! It isn’t the way you seem to think it is! I want to say that - after this—after what you have said to me—if there’s any more - cutting-up in this village I’ll-strip the pelt off the chap who does the - job.” I beat my hand on my breast. “It’s the proudest day of my life when - I can take orders from you.” - </p> - <p> - “But I haven’t given orders, Mr. Sidney.” - </p> - <p> - “You have. They’re orders to me. The littlest thing you can wish for is - orders to me. If you said for me to cut my hand off I’d do it. Oh, you - don’t know! I have—I don’t know how to say it—but for years—oh, - I’m crazy—” And I was. It was lunacy provoked by the passion of love - trying to outvoice those devilish shotes. - </p> - <p> - By the funny look she gave me she was taking me at my word. She hurried to - step into her little chaise. - </p> - <p> - “All I mean is this,” I quavered. “I’ll make ’em quit. You look to - me. I’ll be responsible. Don’t you worry.” - </p> - <p> - “I’m sure everything will be all right after this,” she told me. “I’ll - depend on you, and I thank you.” - </p> - <p> - She went on her way, and the burden I had assumed seemed lighter than - feathers and more precious than golden ingots. - </p> - <p> - She had given me her confidence—she had asked me for a service! - </p> - <p> - She had thought of me and my trouble when she was away at school! - </p> - <p> - A few minutes before I had not dreamed that she was conscious that such a - person as Ross Sidney walked the earth. - </p> - <p> - Now, at all events, my poor self was in a little corner of her thoughts. - She was looking to me for help in something which she had made her own - concern. - </p> - <p> - I rode down Purgatory Hill, hugging my joy and cursing those shotes. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - III—ON ACCOUNT OF A GIRL - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span> TRUST you have - noted, by this time, that my yarn is not a mere chronicle of disconnected - incidents. Linked circumstances seemed to be tying me up. One happening - had pushed me on to another and I had allowed myself to be pushed. It - might be urged, of course, that I had no business in inciting a mob to - play hob with Mr. Bird—but I had my own interests to consider, and I - had been listening to my uncle’s teachings on the subject of looking out - for number one. - </p> - <p> - “You know what happened to your father when he went to running his legs - off on somebody else’s business,” he told me. “If it hadn’t been for me - helping him in his other scrapes, your mother would have been playing - hungryman’s ratty-too on the bottom of the flour-barrel oftener than she - did. I hope you’ve got an ambition to be somebody and to have something.” - </p> - <p> - I did have, but you may be sure I did not tell my uncle that my principal - hankering to get money was so that I might lay it at the feet of Zebulon - Kingsley’s daughter. - </p> - <p> - Now, by the expressed wish of that daughter, I started out to control - happenings and to set myself in new ways. - </p> - <p> - I passed the word to the Skokums, keeping my promise to Celene. - </p> - <p> - I was obliged to be indefinite, for I was guarding that little secret - between her and myself as my most precious treasure. - </p> - <p> - As I remember it, I put it to the gang this way: “We ought to behave - ourselves and protect the good name of the town.” They laughed at me and - asked me if I had joined Judge Kingsley’s Sunday-school class. - </p> - <p> - I knew they didn’t suspect the truth, nevertheless that dig nearly put me - out of countenance on account of the secret I was cherishing. I blushed - and stammered and I lost my grip then and there as a leader—and it - was the same old story—it was on account of a girl. A girl does - rattle the gear of man-business! - </p> - <p> - One of the fellows remarked that I was getting almighty pious after I had - used them to clean up my own dirty job. He said the most of them had - matters of their own which needed attention, and wanted to know if I - proposed to sneak out on them after all the help they had given me. - </p> - <p> - I told them that I had thought the thing over carefully and had decided - that what we had done to Mr. Bird was not right or lawful and we’d better - make no more mistakes. - </p> - <p> - “Then perhaps you want us to correct that mistake and make up a bee and - carry the furniture back to the old cuss,” suggested one of the Sortwell - boys. - </p> - <p> - When I failed to welcome that notion they turned on me in good earnest, - and in my own heart I had to admit, looking on the surface of the thing, - that they had good reason for thinking that I was both selfish and - ungrateful. - </p> - <p> - In the Sixth Reader, at school, I had found the story of Frankenstein’s - monster. I saw that in organizing the Skokums I had built a lively little - monster of my own. - </p> - <p> - “I have a special and a private reason for asking you to quit and be good, - boys,” I told them. - </p> - <p> - “A member who keeps his private and special reasons to himself and doesn’t - trust the rest of us isn’t much of a help in time of trouble,” said Ben - Pratt. “I have never taken a whole lot of stock in you, Ross Sidney, and - now I take less than ever before.” - </p> - <p> - From remarks which were dropped I gathered that the rest of them held - similar sentiments. - </p> - <p> - “They’re going to have a detective in here,” I told them. - </p> - <p> - “Who said so?” - </p> - <p> - But that was Celene Kingsley’s secret. - </p> - <p> - I had hoped that the threat might scare them. It had just the opposite - effect; the boys of Levant had never seen a detective, but they had read - every five-cent thriller on the subject. To be the object of a real - detective’s attention seemed like glorious adventure—and they were - sure that they were, when on their own prowling-grounds, match for any - sleuth who ever dodged behind trees. - </p> - <p> - But I had stood up before her and had beaten fist upon my breast and had - assured her that she could trust all to me. What sort of a knight was I to - wear lady’s favor and then fail to do and dare in her behalf? - </p> - <p> - “I had hoped that you knew me better and that I stood higher with you - fellows,” I said. “I’ll admit that you did a big job for me, and I am - grateful. But you all had your fun out of it, for you have said so, over - and over. You’ll have to admit something, yourselves; you’ll have to own - up that we are ashamed of what we did to poor old Bangs. If you keep on - you’ll do other things to be ashamed of. I’m advising you to stop.” - </p> - <p> - “We don’t want your advice,” said Ben. - </p> - <p> - “Then you’ll get something from me which you’ll like a blamed sight less - than advice.” - </p> - <p> - Plainly they were hungry for information. - </p> - <p> - “What’ll that be?” asked one of the Sortwell boys. - </p> - <p> - “Try on any more of your doodle-busting in this town and you’ll find out,” - I said. Then I left them and went home. - </p> - <p> - Some bright chap has made a simile about having as much privacy as a - goldfish. At any rate, by leading an open life, one may be in a position - to prove an alibi. - </p> - <p> - I took to spending my evenings in the bar-room of the Levant Tavern. - </p> - <p> - That was by no means such a roystering sort of a life as it sounds to be. - They used to sell liquor in the tavern in the old stage-coaching days, - when the place was a post station; the little catty-cornered bar is there - in the big room, its worn wood shiny from the dragging of rough fists and - from many scrubbings; behind is the cupboard, with wavy glass set in - diamond-shaped panes. But the cupboard was bare in my boyhood days and the - shelves were dusty. Dodovah Vose, the landlord, was a teetotaler and - believed in impressing that principle on others. - </p> - <p> - “I have seen what liquor will do and undo,” he said when he used to get on - to the subject. “In my young days, when the West Injy trade flourished and - rum held its place without blushing, I have set in meeting and seen the - parson soop a sip of rum-and-water between the firstly and secondly, and - so on. It may have improved him and the sermon—I’m not arguing. But - do you think that liquor would ever have improved my brother Jodrey and - made him the best deep-sea diver on the Atlantic coast, as he is to-day? - No, gents! Where a man needs the strength of his arms, the full power of - his ten fingers, the quickness of his brain, and the help of his lungs and - a good heart—then he’d better let liquor alone. That’s what my - brother says and he has been deeper underwater than any other man—and - you can look around you and see some of the queer and wonderful things he - has brought up for the peerusal of mankind.” - </p> - <p> - The old foreroom was really a storehouse of curious pickings and gleanings - which had been sent up-country, from time to time, by the diver brother. - It had been one of my earliest haunts, for I had always hit it off nicely - with Dodovah Vose. I did not lark about the room or molest the curios, as - other boys in the village sometimes did. - </p> - <p> - On the contrary, I always surveyed them with respect and interest; the awe - I felt when I first laid eyes on them never left me, entirely. I have not - been able to determine, exactly, whether my boyhood study of those objects - inspired the hankering I developed, the burning desire to go down into the - depths of the sea some day, or whether the queer things merely catered to - my natural instinct in the matter. At any rate, I touched them reverently - and I asked many questions of Landlord Vose and he told me hair-raising - stories which, he said, his brother had told him. I remember that when I - was so young I was still wearing a plaid kilt, I got down on all-fours and - stuck my leg in the air at his request; he called it “playing circus,” and - gave me a penny. He said I was a smart boy and allowed that a smart boy - might grow up and be made a diver by Jodrey Vose. So there was an idea put - into my head at an early age. And Dodovah Vose used to call me “Lobster - Sidney”—a truly deep-water nickname! He had a rather droll idea of a - joke—it was to prompt youngsters to go and make fools of themselves. - My folks gave me the middle name of Webster. In order to plague the new - schoolma’am, Dodovah Vose told me to insist on the first day of school - that my name was Ross Webster Lobster Sidney—and I did, even though - the boys in the school laughed themselves sick. Mr. Vose praised me - because I had obeyed orders, and gave me a conch-shell on which, by the - aid of three finger-stops, one could play more or less of a tune. He had - already given to me a shell which whispered in my ear the everlasting - murmuring of the great ocean I had never seen. - </p> - <p> - It was a big fountain-shell from somewhere in the West Indies, and it - fairly boomed, deep in its spirals, when I held it to my ear; I sensed all - the vastness and the mystery and the solemnity of the ocean depths. The - more I listened the better acquainted I seemed to be with a wonderful - stranger far away at the other end of a wire. - </p> - <p> - It really seemed like a call to bigger things, and my job with my uncle - was getting less and less to my taste. If there’s any such thing as the - angels looking down on earth over the parapets of heaven in their hours - off duty, some of the things my uncle would do in horse trades, in order - to get back at other cheaters, must have grieved the judicious in the - upper spheres. - </p> - <p> - I didn’t realize it at the time, but I can look back now and see how my - lashings to the life in Levant were in the way of severance, one by one. - </p> - <p> - I found no comfort in the lull of Skokum activities; I reckoned that the - boys were reorganizing and getting ready for a really big slam. I felt as - a timid girl must, feel in a thunder-shower when the thing is right - overhead and there’s an extra wait between claps. - </p> - <p> - I continued to visit the tavern evenings and I came, into closer intimacy - with Dodovah Vose. He brought, out old letters written by his brother and - read them to me. In one Jodrey Vose described his venture on the sunken - British frigate <i>Triton</i> somewhere off the coast, of Nova Scotia. She - was bringing pay to the Hessian troops in the American colonies, so old - reports had it. Jodrey Vose was more of a diver than a writer and his, - letter had no frills. He informed his brother, who had invested modestly - in the gamble at Jodrey’s suggestion, that the thing was a failure, though - the frigate had been located by dragging and Jodrey himself had gone down - and explored her where she had lain for more than a century. - </p> - <p> - Diver Vose stated bluntly that he believed, from what; he saw down there, - that the <i>Triton</i> had been scuttled or blown up by certain of her - officers, who secured her treasure, escaped to the main in small boats and - reported her loss in a storm; tradition has it that there was always - considerable doubt about that storm. Also, tradition has it that those - officers settled in America and lived happily ever after. Diver Vose tried - to help pay expenses by raising the cannon. But though they seemed sound - enough under the sea, they crumbled into lumpy masses after they were - exposed to the air. - </p> - <p> - “But I never begrudged the money I put in,” Dodovah Vose told me. “I got - my curiosity scratched where it had been itching for a good many years, - ever since Jodrey and I first began to talk about the <i>Triton</i>. And I - helped my brother get something off his mind. He wouldn’t have died easy - if he hadn’t made sure about that treasure. I stand ready to invest in - another scheme of his if he ever gets ready to tackle it. That’s to go - down and dig in the bottom of the river Tiber, providing he can fix it - with the town officers of Rome. As near as we can find out from history, - Jodrey and I, when the Romans wasn’t throwing their treasures into the - river to keep ’em away from one another in their civil wars, the - barbarians were up to the same game, because they didn’t enjoy art. And, - of course, there’s always the treasure of the <i>Golden Gate!</i> That’s - in modern times.” - </p> - <p> - But it was not in times sufficiently modern so that I knew anything about - it, as my blank stare showed. - </p> - <p> - “She caught fire on her way from San Francisco to the Isthmus and was run - ashore with three or four million dollars’ worth of gold ingots in her. - That’s fact! But Jodrey says there’s been so much blasted lying done since - by owners, underwriters, divers, claimers, and others, that nobody knows - for sure just what has become of the treasure. That’s another of his - hankerings—to find out!” - </p> - <p> - More and more did I feel the spirit of adventure stirring in me! - </p> - <p> - I could not understand why the whereabouts of that great treasure should - remain in doubt, and so I expressed myself to Mr. Vose. - </p> - <p> - “There’s some sort of a mystery about it—and so far’s my brother is - concerned he can’t drop regular contracts to go chasing dreams—only - once in so often. That <i>Triton</i> case made a hearty meal for his - curiosity—he hasn’t been hungry for high-spiced stuff since.” He - looked at me with shrewd kindness. “Maybe he’ll let you go on that job - after he has made a diver out of you.” - </p> - <p> - I felt a flush in my cheeks. - </p> - <p> - “I suppose you have been poking a little fun at me all along when you have - hinted at my being a diver, sir. Do you really believe your brother would - give me a thought?” - </p> - <p> - “He might, if you went to him backed up with a letter from me.” - </p> - <p> - “I have a mind to ask you for that letter.” - </p> - <p> - “And you’ll not get it, my boy! I don’t propose to have your uncle Deck - come yowling and clawing at me like an old tom-cat because I have coaxed - his handy-Andy away from him.” - </p> - <p> - “I don’t like the kind of work he puts me to, Mr. Vose. I have grown up to - be a man, almost, and I understand better than I did at first.” - </p> - <p> - “You understand, for instance, that when you took that cow away from - Andrew P. Corson last week you left his baby without milk!” He stroked his - nose and peered at me from under eyelids that were cocked like little - tents. - </p> - <p> - “There was a bill of sale! He made me go and get the cow.” - </p> - <p> - “But do you know what your uncle did, after that?” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir!” - </p> - <p> - “He went to Andrew P. Corson and said you acted without orders. He lent - Corson the money to buy another cow.” - </p> - <p> - I stammered out something about not understanding that. - </p> - <p> - “But I do,” said Landlord Vose. “Your uncle Deck wants to get into - politics in this town—he wants to get into politics far enough so - that he can do something to Judge Kingsley. He reckons you don’t need any - popularity. He is starting you out with considerable of a handicap if you - mean to live and prosper in your own town. However, I won’t do anything to - encourage you to leave! I’ve got to keep on living in the town—alongside - your uncle Deck!” - </p> - <p> - A flash of family loyalty prompted me to assert that my uncle was good to - the poor. - </p> - <p> - “That he is,” said Dodovah Vose. “He is a queer man, your uncle is. But I - don’t want to make a pauper of myself in order to curry favor with him.” - </p> - <p> - It came to me that I’d better have a talk with my uncle, and I started - out, crossing the village square on my way home. - </p> - <p> - All at once something landed heavily and violently on my shoulders, and - the attack was so sudden that I was borne to the ground with such a crack - of my forehead on the hard earth that I became unconscious, but not until - I had felt claws of some sort tearing at my cheeks. - </p> - <p> - When I came to my senses I was back in the tavern foreroom and Dodovah - Vose was swabbing my face with a sponge wet in warm water. In a corner of - the room Constable Nute and two helpers were hog-tying old Bennie Holt, - the village fool. - </p> - <p> - “I ain’t a dove of peace no longer—I ain’t a rooster no longer,” he - was squalling. “I’m a bald-headed eagle! They told me I’m an eagle. I - allus knowed I was some kind of a fowl. They lied to me when they said I - was a dove of peace. I’m an eagle. See what I’ve done! I’ve mallywhacked - him. He made fun of me when I was a dove. Others made fun of me—but - now they’d better look out. I’m an eagle.” - </p> - <p> - Whatever the old idiot had been or thought he had been, he was then - plainly a raving maniac. In his struggles he was shedding turkey feathers - with which he had thatched his coat. As far back as I could remember old - Bennie Holt, he used to stand in the square with feathers of various sorts - stuck around his hat, harmlessly indulging his vagary. But never before - had he raised his hand against any human being. - </p> - <p> - “I reckon that this time you fired a boomerang, young Sidney,” stated the - constable, reproachfully. “Old Bangs didn’t fly back and hit you, but this - one has. The village will be glad to hear it.” - </p> - <p> - “You’d better be careful what you report about me,” - </p> - <p> - I told him. “I had nothing whatever to do with old Bennie. Mr. Vose will - answer for me.” - </p> - <p> - “We know where to plaster the blame when anything happens in this place,” - insisted Nute. “Now you’ve sent another one to the bug-house!” - </p> - <p> - It did not seem to be of much use to talk to that raving old man, but I - tried it. I asked him who had been talking to him. - </p> - <p> - “My guardeen angels,” he screamed. “They all come to me and told me. They - was in white and they told me.” I myself had furnished the pillow-case - cowls to the Skokums out of the second-hand stock in my uncle’s - storehouse! - </p> - <p> - “There must be some mistake this time, Nute,” said Landlord Vose. “Young - Sidney has been spending his evenings here in the tavern for quite some - time.” - </p> - <p> - “Trying to put up a bluff, that’s all. The one who-torches on a fool can’t - complain if the fool kicks back. Here’s more expense to the town, boarding - an insane man at the State hospital. It didn’t cost us anything as long as - he e’t broken crackers out of the grocery-stores, and slept in the - livery-stable. I reckon Town-Treasurer Kingsley will say that this ends up - his patience.” - </p> - <p> - “Don’t you dare to tell Judge Kingsley that I had anything to do with - getting old Bennie in this state,” I cried. My face smarted dreadfully, - for Dodovah Vose-. was putting on some kind of stuff to kill the poison of - the-, tool’s finger-nails, so he explained. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t need to tell him; he’ll know it for himself.” - </p> - <p> - “I’ll find out who did do it! I know well enough!” - </p> - <p> - “Of course you know.” - </p> - <p> - It was maddening—this determination on the part of Levant to put me - in the wrong in all matters of local disturbance. Here was I, victim of - the resentment of the Skokums because I was trying to obey my promise to - Celene Kingsley, now in imminent danger of further repute as the - ringleader of the latest atrocity—even though I was the sole - sufferer after the devil had been stirred up in the old loafer. - </p> - <p> - “You fired him, and the boomerang swung around back and hit you—that’s - all,” insisted the constable. “His mouth has been full of something you - have done to him. If it wasn’t you he wouldn’t be talking about you.” - </p> - <p> - While Dodovah Vose was finishing with my lacerated face I pondered on what - he had said about my uncle’s indifference in regard to my popularity in - town. - </p> - <p> - Then I stood up in the tavern foreroom and cursed family and foes and town - with such lurid invective—my vocabulary and force being so far - beyond the ordinary capabilities of youth—that even the crazy man - was shocked into silence. I was ashamed of myself even as I ranted. But - then, as in after-times, my temper swept me out of myself. I was blind and - dizzy and there was a roar in my ears like the rush of water. I swung the - fires of anger about myself as a juggler whirls his flaming torches. I was - sorry as soon as it was over—I have always been sorry when my frenzy - has passed. - </p> - <p> - When I bowed my head and walked out of the tavern I heard the constable - clucking away like an offended old hen. - </p> - <p> - “It’s all a matter for the judge to consider—language and all,” he - declared. - </p> - <p> - “But I insist that he is a good boy in his heart,” said Dodovah Vose. - </p> - <p> - “Can’t be—coming out of that family—and with the general - reputation he has got since he has worked for his uncle the last four - years,” insisted the constable. Fine dwelling-place for me—Levant, - eh? - </p> - <p> - My uncle was in bed and asleep when I got to the house—and perhaps - it was just as well, because I was quickly forgetting my shame and was - ready for a further squabble; a disposition on my part which has never - been especially helpful during my life. - </p> - <p> - I made careful and disgusted study of my striped face in the looking-glass - before I went to bed. In spite of my innocence, there I was, the labeled - participator in an affray. In this world, as you have probably noticed, - the man who carries around a blacked eye or a bunged lip never succeeds in - dissipating the suspicion that he has been in some sort of a disgraceful - mix-up, in which he was more or less to blame. You may remember how you - yourself have felt in the case of your friends, even when a sliding rug or - a closet door has been saddled with the blame. A man with a marked-up - physog is never at his best as a defendant. I dreaded the next day, for it - seemed pretty certain that I would have to face Judge Kingsley. But the - feeling that his daughter might be brought to doubt the sincerity of my - promises, when she heard the story and beheld my face, kept me awake more - effectually than did the pain of that ferocious clapperclawing. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - IV—THE TRAINING OF THE QUEEN OF “SHEBY” - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span> WAS awake so long - in the night I overslept next morning, of course. Breakfast had been - cleared away by the time I got dressed and was down-stairs. - </p> - <p> - I had made up my mind to have a run-in with my uncle, but I was starting - with a disadvantage. Coming late to breakfast in that busy household - amounted almost to a crime, and the look of disgust my aunt Lucretia set - on my face made my courage drop tail. She was never amiable, and she - considered me an intruder in the family, as well I knew. - </p> - <p> - “I have left your doughnuts and coffee in the but’ry—and your uncle - wants you in the stable.” She turned her back and went on with what she - was doing at the stove. - </p> - <p> - I ate the doughnuts on my way to the stable, trying to whip up my rancor. - I expected to be received with a hoot and a howl, and depended on those - spurs to start my own temper on the gallop. - </p> - <p> - Uncle Deck was just pushing a bottle back into the oats in the bin. He - slammed down the cover and wiped his mouth and grinned at me. He was in - the best of good humor. I was chewing on food his money had bought, and, I - repeat, he was as pleasant as a basket of chips. In the face of that I - couldn’t screw a mean word out of myself. - </p> - <p> - “She sure was some operator with her claws,” he remarked. But he wouldn’t - listen to my indignant explanation; he plainly had his own business on his - mind that morning, and it was business which seemed to be affording much - satisfaction. He gave me a push toward the harness-room, the sanctum where - he performed most of his deviltry in horse matters. - </p> - <p> - In that harness-room was hitched the worst-looking old pelter of a plug I - had ever laid eyes on. - </p> - <p> - Uncle Deck put his hands on his hips and swapped looks between myself and - the horse. He was master of a certain kind of cheap, horse-jockey patter - which he employed at fairs when he wanted to call a crowd around. He - struck a pose and “orated.” - </p> - <p> - “Having a knowledge of hoss pedigree, relatives, previous condition of - servitude, religious preferences, and other matters pertaining to, and so - forth, even going back to the fact that the hoss Bucephalorus, that was - owned by the late Aleck the Great, cocked his left hind leg when he stood - in the stall, had a nicked right ear, and a wind-gall puff behind each - fore shoulder, I want to say that I reckon that never before was there - gathered, collected, and assembled on four legs every kind of a pimple, - bump, wheeze, scratch, spavin, horn ail, hock bunch, trick, and - bobblewhoop, that’s laid down by old Medicombobulus, in his book entitled - ‘Things a Hoss Can Get Along Without.’ I call this ancient Gothic ruin - ‘Carpenter Boy,’ sired by Pod Auger, dammed by Hemlock Maid—and, in - fact, damned by everybody who has ever owned him. Speed is developed in - him by feeding the celebrated spiral oats, produced by crossing shoe-pegs - with bed-springs, which in process of being digested uncoil and carry the - animile in leaps like the mountain-goat.” - </p> - <p> - After that outburst I definitely, in my own mind, set forward to some - future date the matter of an understanding with my uncle. - </p> - <p> - “How did it ever happen that anybody could unload this on you?” I asked - him. - </p> - <p> - “Because I went out hunting for it, sonny. It was the worst I could do on - short notice. If it had looked worse and had had more ailments and outs I - would have paid more for it. Now ask no more questions, but lend a hand to - what I tell you to do.” - </p> - <p> - I have no time to go into the details of what my uncle Deck did to that - equine framework, but if I could describe it all I’d be furnishing - considerable of a handbook for the uses of tricky horse-swappers. I had - helped in many similar jobs in that back room of his stable, but I had - never seen him put so much art and soul into the work before; he seemed to - have special reasons for his painstaking toil. He chuckled whenever he - secured a particularly good result; at times he gritted his teeth and - swore under his breath regarding some party whom he did not name. But I - gathered that this transformation of a horse was intended as satisfaction - of one of his bitterest grudges. - </p> - <p> - He had everything to do with in that horse beauty-parlor of his. There - were ointments and colorings, false hair for mane and tail, skin-patches - and disguises for puffs and swellings. But still the horse remained gaunt; - the rafters of his ribs suggested that he needed to be shingled in. To my - general wonderment as to what my uncle was about, anyway, was now added - more lively curiosity; how was this living skeleton to be disguised as to - skinniness? I found out before long. My uncle put on the poor brute a - bridle with a wicked twist-bit and told me to hold him, no matter how much - he kicked about. - </p> - <p> - Then Uncle Deck brought out a bit of board into which shoe-pegs had been - set thickly. He began to clap the pegged board against the horse’s skin. I - had my work cut out for me after that, I can tell you. The pain must have - been excruciating, for the bradding-pegs raised blisters. In a little - while the ribs were hidden by this new and deceptive plumpness. The horse - took on the appearance of an animal which had been well cared for in the - food line. And he certainly displayed the spirit of Phoebus’s nigh - wheel-horse. His nostrils snorted furiously and his eyes flamed. It seemed - incredible that this animal with flowing mane and tail, with round barrel - and smooth limbs, was the decrepit old creature I had seen on my arrival - in the room. - </p> - <p> - Lastly, my uncle Deck oiled the horse from stem to stem, smoothing the - hair into place, and then stood and admired his handiwork. - </p> - <p> - “Now let’s see what the needle will do for style and knee action,” he - said. He gave the horse a jab with the hypodermic—I had seen him do - that at horse-trots just before the race was started. He hitched a long - rope into the bridle and led the animal out into the yard. In a few - moments the horse was prancing and curveting and whickering like a - blueblood of youth and spirit. - </p> - <p> - “But he won’t last this way!” I said. - </p> - <p> - My uncle turned withering side-glance on me. “Do you think you’re telling - me something I didn’t know? Of course he won’t last. I don’t want him to - last. If he would pop like a blown-up paper bag when I got ready to have - it happen I’d like it all the better. But, as it is, it’ll be bad enough. - Don’t you know a good name for him out of some of those books you have - read, son?” - </p> - <p> - But while I was hesitating my uncle dipped in with his usual impatience. - </p> - <p> - “I have thought of it already! ‘Judge,’ that’s his name. When she hears - Trufant call him ‘Judge’ the coincidence will catch her interest, likely - enough. She will prick up her ears!” - </p> - <p> - Right then I pricked up my own ears. I understood mighty sudden. I had - seen the writing tacked on the notice-board in the post-office the day - before. Judge Kingsley had let it be known that he was in the market for a - driving-horse, suitable for use by ladies. I had read it with mingled - emotions, realizing that Celene Kingsley had grown to girlhood out of - childhood; no longer a pony-cart for her! - </p> - <p> - “But he’ll never buy a horse from you?” I blurted, staring at my uncle. - </p> - <p> - “Who won’t?” - </p> - <p> - “Judge Kingsley.” - </p> - <p> - “Probably he wouldn’t if he thought it came from <i>me</i>. But I’m - baiting a hook that he’ll swallow or I’m no guesser.” - </p> - <p> - My eyes were full of questions and he saw fit to humor me. - </p> - <p> - “Seeing it’s all in the family, son, I’ll tell you. I’ve got to let out a - few holes in my surcingle or I’ll bust. ‘Squealing John’ Runnels, of - Carmel, will drive this hoss into Judge Kingsley’s dooryard to-night, - around dusk, representing that he is a poor woman who needs money in a - hurry so that she can get her husband out of trouble. ‘Squealing John’ has - got a woman’s voice, and he will wear some of his wife’s clothes.” - </p> - <p> - “I don’t see how you can get a man to do that,” I objected. - </p> - <p> - My uncle raised his hand above his head and slowly clinched his fingers. - </p> - <p> - “A man will do ‘most anything when you’ve got a foreclosure clutch on his - weazen. I’m making the whole thing plenty crazy so that the laugh will be - bigger when the truth comes out. He’ll buy this hoss—there’s no - doubt of it. Old John will give him only twenty minutes to decide. Short - notice on account of the hypo juice I’ll shoot in up around the turn of - the street! Must have a quick decision because I reckon the hoss will - stagger up against a fence and die mighty soon after old John gets out of - sight. Clek-clek! Gid-dap!” He yanked on the rope and the horse frolicked. - “Whoa, Judge! Plenty of knee action! Sound in wind, limb, and peepers! - Safe for the ladies!” He pulled in on the rope, grabbed the bridle, and - led the horse to a stall. “If we get over two hundred I’ll slip you ten - dollars for your part of the job,” he called to me. “It’s time for you to - understand that there’s good money in a sharp dicker.” - </p> - <p> - I did not have the courage to tell him what I thought. - </p> - <p> - I tried to frame some sort of a reproach when he went to the oat-bin and - pulled out his bottle. But he grinned over his shoulder at me! If he had - had any short and sharp words for me that day I would have burst out, I’m - sure of it. - </p> - <p> - But he was wonderfully kind to me that last day I ever spent in his home, - under his thumb. - </p> - <p> - “You’d better stay close around the house till your face looks less like - the battle-flag of freedom, son,” he advised me. “Cats will be cats, and - girls will show claws!” He went away about his business and I hung around - the stable, taking a look every now and then at the preposterous horse. - </p> - <p> - I was made party to a most horrible deceit on Celene Kingsley. To be sure, - the fraud most nearly concerned her father and his money. But the horse - was destined for her. I could not get that idea out of my thoughts. - Probably, after the trade had been made, my uncle would brag that I had - helped him. How would she view me? It must seem to her that some of my - promises had already been broken, for I was certain that the matter of old - Bennie was being canvassed that day in the village. There was such a thing - as family loyalty, I admitted, as I pondered on the situation. But to - allow my tough uncle to tramp through the little sanctuary where I - enshrined my love, to pull me into a vulgar scheme which must ruin forever - all my hopes, poor and futile though they were, these were sacrifices I - did not feel called on to undergo. I had my own pride to consider. I no - longer dreamed of ever possessing Celene Kingsley. What was in me was a - romantic hope that she would think on me once in a while when I was far, - far away—remembering that I was her slave in what she asked and that - I had asked nothing of her. - </p> - <p> - However, to have her memories of me mixed in with thoughts of the - horse-trading cheat which I had connived at was reflection unendurable. - </p> - <p> - I went to the wood-shed and secured an ax. It occurred to me that when a - horse had so many bumps on him, one more and a deadly bump on his forehead - would not attract much attention; furthermore, my uncle seemed to think - that the animal’s course was nearly run. - </p> - <p> - I faced the brute. His ears were hanging in despondency. His eyes were - dropping tears; those blisters must have been stinging like the martyr’s - skin under the shirt of fire. When I looked on that woe all my resolution - left me. I dropped the ax. There were tears in my own eyes. I felt as if - he were my brother in common sorrow. So I went to the cellar and fetched - apples and carrots and fed them into his gratefully slobbering mouth until - he sighed and spraddled his legs and went to sleep. - </p> - <p> - Constable Nute came for me during the day. - </p> - <p> - “There ain’t any subpeny to this, young Sidney,” he informed me. “If you - feel too guilty to face Judge Kingsley, who is making an informal - investigation, you needn’t come.” - </p> - <p> - “I am not guilty. I’m not afraid to face the judge.” And I went along. - There was no one else in his office. He had been calling in persons and - examining them one by one. I was alone with him after Nute left. - </p> - <p> - I gave in my version of what had happened the night before and declared - that I had had nothing whatever to do with putting notions into the noddle - of the village fool. - </p> - <p> - “But as to this society of young vandals which has been disgracing the - village? Certain members of the gang have confessed to me that you are the - organizer and the ringleader.” - </p> - <p> - “And I confess that I <i>was</i> leader at first,” I owned up to him, just - as manfully as I could. Then I told him about Mr. Bird. “When I realized - that I was making a mistake I stopped being leader. I have had nothing to - do with the society since.” - </p> - <p> - He had a way of shooting speech out through his pinched nostrils with a - sort of a jew’s-harp twang. He leaned back in his chair and gave me a good - looking over. - </p> - <p> - “Becoming an angel overnight by the natural piety of the Sidney - disposition, eh? Young man, you are lying to me! Now tell me the real - reason why you quit your devilishness.” - </p> - <p> - I had no mind to tell him, and I was silent. - </p> - <p> - “You had another reason, didn’t you? A better reason?” - </p> - <p> - I confessed that I had. But I wouldn’t tell him what it was, even when he - raised his voice to me and pounded on the table with his fist. If he had - been the right kind of a man I would have told him, for a proper man would - have been proud of his daughter under those circumstances. But I knew that - Judge Kingsley would consider that she had disgraced herself by talking to - me. - </p> - <p> - “You can’t tell the truth—you won’t tell the truth—for the - truth isn’t in you,” he stormed. “You are convicted by the tongues of the - boys who have owned up.” - </p> - <p> - “I knew there were sneaks in the crowd—that’s another reason I had - for getting out, Judge Kingsley.” - </p> - <p> - “If anything else happens in this village we shall know where to place the - blame.” - </p> - <p> - “It isn’t fair, Judge Kingsley!” I remonstrated. “I’m not getting a square - deal in this thing. I know that old Nute has been talking to you the way - he calked to me last night. They are all bound to put the blame on to me.” - </p> - <p> - “I know for myself.” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir! You don’t know for yourself. You say I can’t tell the truth! - I’ll show you that I can, even when it’s to my own hurt—yes, sir, to - my awful hurt! You have advertised for a horse, haven’t you?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes.” - </p> - <p> - “My uncle is going to send around a man dressed in woman’s clothes—this - very evening—so as to fool you in the dusk with the worst fraud ever - propped on four legs.” - </p> - <p> - That confession didn’t help me a bit and I ought to have had sense enough - to know it before I opened my mouth. I had made the judge more thoroughly - angry than ever; I had offended his pride as a shrewd business man. - </p> - <p> - “What cock-and-bull yam is this? Do you think I can be fooled by cheap - horse-jockey tricks? You young fool, what do you mean by insulting me?” - </p> - <p> - “You just wait till you see the horse,” I retorted. “I helped fix him and - I didn’t know him, myself, after the job was done. But I don’t want to see - you gulled, Judge Kingsley. I am following new ways from now on. You know - my uncle and how I am beholden to him! When I open up to you about him it - ought to show you that I want to be honest, no matter how much the truth - is going to harm me.” - </p> - <p> - “There’s no decency in this town—not even honor among thieves,” - snarled the judge. He pointed to the door. “That’s all for now, young - Sidney! Remember for yourself—and tell others—that the grand - jury sits in this county within a fortnight! Upon actions from now on - depends what the county prosecutor will be inclined to do.” - </p> - <p> - Judge Kingsley’s office was a sort of ell affair built out from the side - of his mansion. When I left it I ducked around to the rear of the house - and made off down through the orchard, having no relish to show my clawed - face to the public. I had my day to myself and I did not hurry; I had many - things to ponder on. - </p> - <p> - All at once I heard the sound of somebody running on the turf behind me. I - turned and faced Celene. I curved my forearm across my countenance, - ashamed of my appearance, her own flushed cheeks were so radiantly - beautiful! - </p> - <p> - “I know how it happened. I’m sure it wasn’t your fault,” she said, - graciously. - </p> - <p> - “They ste’boyed him on to me!” I told her. “I have tried to make ’em - stop their tricks, just as I promised you. So they did this to put me in - wrong. Your father is hard on me! I tried to make him understand that I——well, - I wanted—” - </p> - <p> - “I overheard—I couldn’t help overhearing.” Then her cheeks grew - rosier. “I’ll own up. I listened at the door. I wanted to know. And that’s - why I came after you. You have kept our little secret and I know you have - done your best in other ways. So that’s why I’m here. I want to thank you. - And—I—Well, I think that’s all!” - </p> - <p> - It seemed to finish it as far as I was concerned, too; I couldn’t pump a - word up out of myself. So we stood there and looked up into the trees. - </p> - <p> - “Father has been talking to them to-day,” she said, after a time. “Perhaps - they are warned now and won’t be up to any more mischief. And they ought - to be sorry for what they have done to you. I think you can have a lot of - influence over them after this.” - </p> - <p> - “I don’t know about that. I’m going away from here.” - </p> - <p> - That statement astonished her just as much as it astonished me. I had not - thought of announcing my departure ten seconds before; it had not been in - my mind that I was going away. But all of a sudden the memory of what I - had told the judge about the horse popped into my thoughts. Considering - what would be my uncle’s state of mind after the exposure, I reckon the - going-away idea followed as naturally as the right answer in a sum of - addition. - </p> - <p> - “I had supposed that your outlook—your position with your uncle—was - very promising,” she said. “The town needs smart men.” - </p> - <p> - The fact that she had spent one thought upon my condition interested me - more than the implied compliment. - </p> - <p> - “If I stay with him I’ll only be a country cheat and horse-dickerer. I - want to be something else,” I told her. “This very day my uncle is trying - to put up a job on your father. I have told the judge about it.” - </p> - <p> - “I heard you. It was another reason why I wanted to speak to you—to - encourage you in being honest. There’s no need of father bringing you into - the matter at all. It would only make trouble between your uncle and you. - I’ll speak to father.” - </p> - <p> - “You’d better not, for then you’d be making trouble for yourself. I’d - rather take all the blame of it.” - </p> - <p> - We stood and looked at each other for a long time. - </p> - <p> - “I’m not a coward,” she said. - </p> - <p> - “But it will come out about me blabbing—some way it will come out. - There’s no need of you being in the scrape. I’m going away, and I may as - well go flying while I’m about it!” - </p> - <p> - “I hope—” she said, and that was as far as she got. I know how I was - feeling inside and perhaps my feelings showed too plainly on that striped - face of mine. She looked scared and turned and hurried away. I didn’t know - whether she hoped I’d stay in Levant or hoped I’d do well wherever I might - roam. I watched her out of sight and she did not turn to look at me. I - couldn’t exactly figure that out—whether she didn’t want to give me - a last glance or didn’t dare to. - </p> - <p> - I fingered in my vest pocket while she was running away; when she - disappeared I pulled out a packet and opened it. There were three rings in - it. One was a coral ring; I bought it when I was fifteen and paid thirty - cents for it. I never had the courage to give it to her when we were at - school. There was a silver ring which I bought a year later when my - circumstances were a little better—better than my courage. Lastly, - there was a gold ring which I had secured in a dicker soon after our - meeting on Purgatory Hill. I am not going to discourse on the fool impulse - which prompted me to buy those rings and stick them in my vest pocket. Nor - will I say anything concerning another impulse which made me wrap the - rings up and drop them into a cleft in the trunk of an apple-tree. If I - did not dare to give them to her, at least I could leave them on her - premises. Then I went by back ways to my uncle’s house. - </p> - <p> - Before I was out of sight of Judge Kingsley’s mansion I looked behind me - several times. I didn’t know but I might see a flutter of a handkerchief - from some window, for a vague and queer kind of hope was still in me. I - saw no flutter, but I did see a strange man who was strolling along my - trail. I was too busy with other thoughts to wonder who he might be. - </p> - <p> - I found my uncle admiring the transmogrified horse. - </p> - <p> - “I have been whetting the old hellion’s appetite,” he said, and I knew by - the expression on his face that he was referring to Judge Kingsley. “I - have had half a dozen fellows from the back districts drive one old skate - after another into his dooryard, and inside of an hour he’ll have a chance - to inspect a few more skeletons and bone-piles. By nightfall he’ll be - hungry for a peek at something which doesn’t look as if it would have to - be pushed on casters by iron reins. Oh, he’s hungry! He’ll swallow this - one.” - </p> - <p> - More than ever was I coming to understand into what complicated and - precious gears I had flung my trig—and what the consequences to me - were likely to be. - </p> - <p> - “Now come out into the harness-room,” commanded my uncle. “I want you to - have a look at the Queen of Sheby.” - </p> - <p> - I had never seen “Squealing John” Runnels, but that this was he I had no - doubt. He sat on an upturned grain-bucket with his skirts pulled up about - him, wore a woman’s broad hat of dingy black felt, and a veil partly - draped his face; he was smoking a corn-cob pipe. - </p> - <p> - “I’ll be cussed if I see any good sense in being titrivated out like this - the whole afternoon,” he complained, in tones as strident as a scolding - woman’s. “It’s getting on to my nerves.” - </p> - <p> - “You’ve got to get used to ’em, you old fool,” barked my uncle, “I - don’t propose to have you forgetting yourself. It would be just like you, - right in the middle of that dicker-talk, to prill up your dress and reach - into your pants pocket for a plug of tobacco. Now get up and let me see - you practise walking; and forget that you’re wearing pants.” - </p> - <p> - Runnels went grunting and limping around the room, whining like a teased - quill-pig. His feet were pinched into women’s shoes. My uncle seemed to - see much humor in this exhibition, but I couldn’t find any. It looked to - me only like a grotesque sham, and pitiful, too, for I knew it was not - going to succeed. “Squealing John” appeared to be of the same opinion. He - kept complaining that he would not be able to fool a sharp man like the - judge, and asked, anxiously, what the law penalty was when a man dressed - up like a woman. - </p> - <p> - “I’m a good mind to let ye foreclose and be shet of the thing,” he said, - facing my uncle and cracking together his bony little fists. “All that - will come of this trick is that I’ll be took up and sent to jail. I’m a - good mind to go to the judge and tell him how I’m persecuted and hectored - and see if he won’t take up that bill o’ sale.” - </p> - <p> - “I’ll kill you if you do—I’ll kill anybody else who blows on me and - my plans: Now, Queen of Sheby, remember that this is my champion - performance. I ain’t in any frame of mind to be trifled with.” - </p> - <p> - He went to the oat-bin and brought in his bottle. - </p> - <p> - “You need to be teaed up a little so that you’ll have some courage, you - old angleworm.” - </p> - <p> - After the two of them had swallowed stiff drinks my uncle turned on me. - </p> - <p> - “I have half a mind to dress you up instead of Runnels, son. Your face is - smooth and you’ve got nerve enough to act the thing out right.” - </p> - <p> - “I’ll not turn any such trick,” I said. I was angry in a moment. So was - he. - </p> - <p> - “You will if I tell you to.” - </p> - <p> - “I won’t; and I’ll say further that I don’t think much of this business, - anyway.” - </p> - <p> - “Nor I—and that’s two against one,” declared Runnels, the tip of his - thin nose beginning to glow as if new courage had hung out a banner. - </p> - <p> - Liquor had also given my uncle’s temper an edge of its own; he cuffed - Runnels until that lamenting “lady’s” hat fell off. I jumped up and ran - away into the fields, for I knew that Uncle Deck was merely warming up on - “Squealing John”; as chief mutineer, I was ticketed for the real bout. I - lurked about in the pine grove till after sunset. Then I stole back into - the village with all the stealth of a criminal. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - V—SHOOING AWAY A SCAPEGOAT - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span> RECKON it’s best - for innocence to go boldly in this world. At any rate, I would have come - off better that night if I had not lurked and prowled. However, I was only - obeying very wise dictates of prudence; my uncle had been sufficiently - savage in the harness-room when rebellion was merely in process of - hatching. To meet him after Judge Kingsley had exploded the bomb—and - I was sure that I would be revealed in the matter—would be like - getting in the path of a Bengal tiger with snap-crackers blistering his - tail. - </p> - <p> - I wasn’t at all certain what I would do after I found out that I had been - exposed to my uncle’s fury; first of all, so I felt, it was essential to - learn what had developed in the horse trade. - </p> - <p> - So I stole in the gloom around behind the buildings of the village and - retraced my trail up through the judge’s orchard. While I was still some - distance from the mansion I heard considerable of a hullabaloo above which - rose the shrill voice of “Squealing John” Runnels, who was issuing - warnings about “laying a whip on that hoss.” Then there was a racketing - and a splintering and down past me came an outfit which I recognized. The - horse was certainly the brute my uncle had doctored into false - shapeliness; the mane was dangling in shreds where the apple-tree limbs - had raked. Runnels, his woman’s hat hanging on his back, was kneeling on - the bottom of the wagon, both hands full of false hair which he had reaped - from the horse’s tail in effort to check the animal; he had lost the reins - and they were dragging uselessly on the ground. - </p> - <p> - Not far from me the wagon was flailed against a tree and Mr. Runnels was - violently dislodged; but I judged that he was not injured because, after - rolling over and over on the turf, he rose and ran away with his skirts - gathered around his waist. - </p> - <p> - It was evident that my uncle’s plot had failed ingloriously. - </p> - <p> - I could understand the flash of fresh spirit in that moribund horse; - Runnels had shrieked warnings regarding a whip; a lash laid across those - tingling water-blisters must have made that poor old pelter develop a - hankering to outfly Pegasus. He disappeared with fragments of the thills - clattering on his heels. - </p> - <p> - Then there were immediate and further developments in that orchard. I - thought for a startled moment that it was enchanted ground. White figures - began to pop up here and there and came flocking to me. I found myself - surrounded by the Skokums, wearing the pillowcase masks I had furnished. - </p> - <p> - They seemed to think I had some information regarding the runaway or was - concerned in it, but I had no news to give out. One of them brought the - old felt hat with its broken feather. - </p> - <p> - “I didn’t know there was any woman in these parts who could cuss like that - one did when she went down through the orchard,” said one of the Sortwell - boys. “I reckon that detective is finding mysteries piling in on him - pretty thick.” - </p> - <p> - “What detective?” I asked. - </p> - <p> - “The one that Judge Kingsley has been hiding in his house. That detective - was hid in a closet in the office to-day when the judge was asking - questions of us.” - </p> - <p> - “How do you know he was there?” - </p> - <p> - “Cigar smoke was coming out of the cracks in the closet door. So somebody - was hid. And since then he has been outdoors and we piped him off. He - followed you home. Didn’t you see him?” - </p> - <p> - I did remember the strange man who had been loafing along behind me, but I - kept my own counsel. I had a more important matter on my mind. - </p> - <p> - “I want to know which of you fellows told Judge Kingsley to-day that I am - ringleader of this gang?” - </p> - <p> - No one answered me. They went on making fun of the detective, and I’ll - admit that it seemed to me that he was putting up a poor job in his line. - My reading had given me a rather exalted idea of detectives, but a man who - smoked behind a closet door while eavesdropping, and through whose - identity those country boys saw straightway, was certainly a clumsy - operator. Therefore, I lost interest in him and persisted in my own - business with them. - </p> - <p> - “I’m going to overlook your dirty work in setting old Bennie on to me,” I - said. “You may have done it only for a joke, and there’s no telling what a - fool will do when you start him off. But there’s no joke in blowing on me - to Judge Kingsley—and you say there was a detective listening behind - a door. Now own up!” - </p> - <p> - Nobody volunteered. - </p> - <p> - “I told him myself that I was in it at first. But when I said I was out of - it he made it plain that some of you are still putting the blame on me. - Whoever has said anything of that kind to him is a sneak.” - </p> - <p> - No word from any of them. - </p> - <p> - “And the fellow who won’t speak up to me now, so that we can settle this - thing, is a coward.” - </p> - <p> - There was no such thing as picking out a guilty face in that crowd; they - were hooded with those pillow-slips. I wasn’t sure which was which; I - couldn’t locate even Ben Pratt in the gang, and he was the special chap I - had in mind as informer. - </p> - <p> - “I can say this,” stated one of the boys, “that I didn’t mention your name - to the judge, Ross. So there’s no chance for a fight between you and me. - But when you come to twitting about the throwing-down business, let me - remind you that you did the first job in that line; you threw us all down. - And that was after we had turned a trick that saved you and your uncle - good money.” - </p> - <p> - “But what the rest of you wanted to do was go around in the night and - raise the devil in this town, simply for the sake of mischief. I wouldn’t - do that, and I told you so.” - </p> - <p> - “But how about a case where we’d be protecting ourselves against somebody - who was doing us dirt?” - </p> - <p> - “Nothing like that has been put up to me.” - </p> - <p> - “It’s going to be in about three seconds. You organized this society; now - do something for it. We’re going to coat that detective with molasses and - feathers and ride him out of the village on a rail. We call on you to boss - the job.” - </p> - <p> - “I won’t do it.” - </p> - <p> - “Then join in with us and help.” - </p> - <p> - “No!” - </p> - <p> - “This isn’t mischief—it’s tackling an enemy. You haven’t got any - good excuse for throwing us down.” - </p> - <p> - “I’ve got an excuse that suits <i>me</i>. I have made up my mind to travel - straight in this town, after this. I’m going to do it. I have my own good - reasons for doing it.” - </p> - <p> - “Lost your courage, hey?” - </p> - <p> - “It takes more courage to stand up here and say what I’m saying than to - lead this mob.” - </p> - <p> - “So <i>you</i> say, but that doesn’t convince <i>us</i>. Go home, then, - and get out from underfoot.” - </p> - <p> - It came to me all of a sudden and with sickening force that it required - more courage to go home and face my uncle than to undertake any other - project which my mind could grasp just then. - </p> - <p> - I stood stock-still and they began to suspect my motives in sticking - around. - </p> - <p> - “You won’t head the party, you won’t go along as a member, you won’t get - out of the way,” growled a voice, and I recognized Ben Pratt. “What do you - intend to do—make a holler?” - </p> - <p> - I could be just as stiff in temper as any of that Levant bunch. - </p> - <p> - “A good deal depends on what you devils intend to do,” I said. - </p> - <p> - “You may as well know at the start-off! We intend to have that detective - out of Judge Kingsley’s house! If he doesn’t come out when we call him we - shall go in and get him.” - </p> - <p> - “That’s a prison crime—entering a house like that,” I warned them. - “Also, think what a report that is to go out from Levant! A guest of our - leading citizen dragged from a private residence by a mob! There’s a - sacredness about a home—” - </p> - <p> - “What book did you get that out of?” asked some one, and they laughed. - </p> - <p> - I suppose it did sound mighty top-lofty and unlike anything else that ever - came from me. But I was thinking with all my might of Celene Kingsley and - what an awful thing it would be to have those young hyenas invade that - house in the night-time. You can say what you want to about hoodlumism in - the city—it’s bad! But you’ve got to go back into the country for - unadulterated hellishness, when a mob really gets started. Furthermore, - nobody is especially afraid of a village constable. I could foresee dirty - doings that night in Levant. I had seen one mob in Levant when I was a - youngster; they tarred and feathered a fanatical evangelist, and he died - of fright. - </p> - <p> - I tried to think up something in the way of argument and I stammered about - local pride and so forth, but my talk didn’t ring true, and I felt it and - they knew it. Personally, I didn’t care a hoot about that clumsy fool of a - detective, and I was not remarkably fond of sneering Judge Kingsley. If I - could have stepped up to those boys and explained my love and my hopes and - my fears for Celene Kingsley I might have made some impression on them. - But that was not to be thought of. - </p> - <p> - While I talked I saw them crawling toward me, spreading out, two by two. - It was plain enough—they intended to start their foray by making me - a captive so that I could not interfere. - </p> - <p> - Therefore, I made hasty resolution and turned and ran with all my speed - toward Judge Kingsley’s house. I wasn’t at all sure just what I intended - to do, but my impulse was to forewarn the household so that Celene might - not be frightened. The Skokums came on my heels on the dead jump. But I - had a good lead of them when I came around the corner of the house. - </p> - <p> - Then a man tripped me, pounced on me, and sat on me; I was a submissive - captive, for the breath was knocked out of me when I fell. The instant the - Skokums appeared my captor began to shoot off two automatic revolvers. I - was lying on my back and saw by the flashes that he was shooting into the - air. The boys had been chasing me rather than intending to rush the house - at that time, and they broke and fled in all directions, scampering in a - way which suggested that they were not prepared for artillery defense and - that the hostilities were over for that night. - </p> - <p> - After a time there was silence, and the man who was sitting on me rose and - yanked me to my feet. - </p> - <p> - He was a stocky man with a big, black mustache, and he looked savage. - </p> - <p> - There was a sound of drawing bolts and Judge Kingsley appeared at his - office door. - </p> - <p> - “You have the right one, have you, officer?” - </p> - <p> - “Sure thing! He was leading the rush—ahead of ’em all. This - is the chap you told me to follow in the afternoon.” - </p> - <p> - The judge came down the steps and stared into my face. - </p> - <p> - “It’s the right one—the ringleader,” he said. - </p> - <p> - I knew that she was listening above. She must be listening! And other - folks were flocking outside in the street; that fusillade had been a - signal as effective as a general fire alarm. - </p> - <p> - “Look here,” I cried, full of panic, seeing the position I was in, - suddenly become the scapegoat of the whole affair. “I have done nothing - wrong. I rushed up here to warn you—” - </p> - <p> - “You rushed up, all right,” declared the detective. “Do you think you - hicks could hold a mass-meeting down in that orchard and fool me as to - what you were planning to do? I was ready for you. What’s orders, Judge?” - </p> - <p> - “Take him to the lock-up!” - </p> - <p> - God of the innocent! I’ll never forget how that sounded. It was as if - somebody had hit me on the heart with a hammer. There is some sort of - dignity about a real prison! But that little, red, wooden coop in our - village where an occasional drunk was cast in or some lousy hobo harbored—it - had always seemed to me and to others such a shameful place—to leave - such a badge of utter discredit on the person who had been lodged there! - </p> - <p> - “I’ll never go in there! I’ll die first,” I wailed. - </p> - <p> - I was telling the bitter truth as I felt it. - </p> - <p> - I was eager to die in my tracks rather than to have such a foul blot on my - name. - </p> - <p> - The next instant I had sudden revulsion of feeling in regard to that - lock-up. In bitter fear, in almost frenzy of apprehension, in default of - better retreat, I was quite ready to flee to that loathsome coop. - </p> - <p> - For I heard my uncle raving in the street! - </p> - <p> - I never remembered his words; my feelings were too much stirred just then. - But the hideous screech of rage in his tones I’ll never forget. I knew he - had found out my betrayal of him. - </p> - <p> - “He is going to kill me,” I told the detective. “It’s about the horse!” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I reckon he will peel you if he gets his hands on you,” stated the - man, who seemed to know what I was referring to. My uncle was threshing - his way through the crowd toward me, making slow progress in the jam. The - detective took advantage of that delay and rushed me off, with Constable - Nute swinging his key and leading the way. Before I was fairly in my right - senses I was in the lock-up alone and my two defenders were on guard - outside the door. - </p> - <p> - My uncle frothed about the place for an hour, circling the little building - again and again, plucking at bars and clapboards as a monkey might pick at - a gigantic nut which resisted his attempts to get at the juicy meat for - which he was hungry. - </p> - <p> - Never had I thought that I would be thankful to be in jail till then! - </p> - <p> - Furthermore, my hopes were sustaining me. I was young and trustful, and I - was sure that innocence would be victorious. I could not understand how - anybody would believe that I was guilty when morning came and I could - explain it all. And I resolved to make some of the Skokums speak up in my - behalf on threat of exposing the whole gang. - </p> - <p> - At last my uncle went away, staggering and hiccoughing curses—for he - had brought his bottle with him and had been consulting it quite often. - </p> - <p> - I fell to wondering whether my innocence would stand me in good stead, - providing it vindicated me and secured my release from the lock-up? The - lock-up was surely proving a sanctuary—and my uncle’s threats had - been horrible ones. - </p> - <p> - Then the crowd which had been hanging around the place with a sort of - hope, I suppose, that my uncle would be able to get at me, went away, for - the hour was late. Mr. Detective went, too. So did Constable Nute, who was - the village night-watch and had his rounds to make. They considered the - cage a secure one, I suppose, for there were big bolts on the door and - iron bars on the windows. - </p> - <p> - I sat on a stool and mourned my lot as a prisoner, when I was not dreading - my release to be a victim of my incensed uncle. A good many times I had - watched Bart Flanders bring a trapped rat up from his cellar and set it - free in the village square for the entertainment of his terrier. I was in - a position to sympathize with trapped rats. - </p> - <p> - In the silence of the night something clicked on the glass of a window and - a voice outside hailed me cautiously. My first thought was that the - Skokums had come to rescue me, and I was not especially pleased, for I - felt that they would be impelled more by the spirit of vandalism than by - any love for me. I did not answer. - </p> - <p> - Then the window-frame grunted and squeaked and I saw that somebody was - prying with a chisel. I rose from the stool and saw the face of Dodovah - Vose. - </p> - <p> - “I take it that it’s another job they have put up on you, young Sidney.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, it is, Mr. Vose,” I cried, and I began to whimper. I couldn’t help - it. He spoke as if he understood, as if he were a friend. “I was trying to - stop their devilishness, and they—” - </p> - <p> - “You needn’t bother about going into details—not with me, young - Sidney. I have been watching you lately. You have been a good boy. I know - you haven’t been rampaging round town nights. No matter about telling me - anything. There’s no time to listen. Nute may be drifting back here any - minute.” - </p> - <p> - He was working with his chisel while he was talking. - </p> - <p> - He pried a couple of bars out of the rotten wood. He pushed the window up. - </p> - <p> - “Light out o’ there!” he commanded. - </p> - <p> - “But I hate to run away, and—” - </p> - <p> - “The way things stand now in the village you’ll be made the goat,” he - insisted. “And if you get clear of the gang part there’s your uncle to - reckon with. He has been stamping around the tavern and telling about you. - I don’t blame him much. What in sanup did you betray own folks for?” - </p> - <p> - I couldn’t tell him. - </p> - <p> - “After what you did to him you can’t expect me and others to say nay if he - takes it out of your hide. Trigging own folks in a regular hoss dicker - comes nearer to being a crime than anything the judge can lay against you. - So you’ve got to simplify matters by getting out of town. You mustn’t stay - here and get hurt, son. Climb, I tell ye!” - </p> - <p> - So I climbed. - </p> - <p> - He led me down into a lane and pushed me into a top buggy whose curtained - sides hid me well. He crawled in after me and drove off at a good dip. - </p> - <p> - “I have written that letter to my brother,” he said, after a time. “Here - it is.” He put it into my hands. “How much money have you got about you?” - </p> - <p> - I was never at any loss in those days as to my exact financial standing. - </p> - <p> - “Three dollars and sixty-four cents, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “Here is ten more. You must remember to pay it back. It will take you to - the city and give you a little extra to come and go on. I have backed that - letter to my brother with full address and directions how to get to the - Trident Wrecking Company. Mind your eye, keep your money deep in your - pocket, and go straight.” - </p> - <p> - I realized that we were on the way to the railroad station at Levant Lower - Comers. - </p> - <p> - “I’ll do what I can to stand up for you in the current talk that will be - made, young Sidney,” said Landlord Vose. “I won’t say where you have gone, - and you can bet that I won’t give it out how I helped you to go there. But - I can tell folks how you have been sitting evenings with me instead of - cutting up snigdom. I’ll help your name what I can.” - </p> - <p> - “I have been trying to get my tongue loose so as to thank—” - </p> - <p> - “Don’t go to spoiling a good thing at the last minute,” he snapped. “Come - back and thank me when we both are sure that this jail-robbing was the - best thing that could be done under the circumstances. I had only short - notice and I took a chance that it was the right thing to do.” - </p> - <p> - So, after a time, we came to the railroad station, and he left me. I - sneaked in the shadows till the night train came along. - </p> - <p> - After this fashion I left Levant. Looking ahead or looking behind, I did - not feel especially joyous. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - VI—HAVING TO DO WITH JODREY VOSE’s MAKING OP A DIVER - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span> SAT up in the - smoking-car all night, straight as a cob, making myself as small as I - could on one of the side seats nearest the door. I was not used to riding - on a railroad train. At every stop, when men came in and looked at me in - passing, my heart jumped. Things had been happening pretty fast in my - case. In the upheaval of my feelings, I was not exactly sure just what - special crime I had committed. I merely knew that I felt like a - combination of coward, renegade, and malefactor. - </p> - <p> - The idea which stuck most painfully in my crop was the certain knowledge - of what everybody in Levant would be saying—“He had to skip the - town!” - </p> - <p> - That’s a mighty mean tag to be tied to a chap when it’s tied on by a - country community; it never comes off. Even if he makes good in fine shape - some old blatherskite is always ready to shift his chaw and drool, “Maybe - he’s all right <i>now</i>—but ye have to remember that he had to - skip the town!” - </p> - <p> - I had run away! - </p> - <p> - However, Ase Jepson let drop a remark once which sounded pretty good to - me: “I’d never run from a bear-fight, because if you lick the bear there’s - the pelt, the steak, the oil, and the reppytation. But who in blazes ever - got any sensible satisfaction out of sticking to the job and licking a - nestful of hornets?” - </p> - <p> - I got a little satisfaction out of thinking that I had run away from - hornets, even if they would be sure to call me coward behind my back. - </p> - <p> - But what I knew of the world outside my home town could have been put in - the eye of a mosquito without making the insect blink. I felt as helpless - as a wooden shingle latching a furnace door in tophet. I had never seen - Jodrey Vose. Either I had dreamed it or had heard that he was considered a - pretty hard ticket in his early days. As a diver, a man who passed much of - his time under water in the mysteries of the sea, he seemed to me like - something unreal. I studied the superscription on the letter and felt as - if I were carrying a line of introduction to a bullfrog. - </p> - <p> - And so I went bumping on toward somewhere, my thoughts heavy and my - possessions mighty light; I hadn’t even a clean handkerchief. - </p> - <p> - If I had not so many bigger matters to hurry on to in this tale, I’d like - to describe how I was all of two days locating the Trident Wrecking - Company and Jodrey Vose, after I arrived in the city. The folks in Levant - always seemed to think I was a cheeky youngster, and I guess I was, to a - certain extent. I had plenty of temper and when I wanted a thing I always - had to go and get it—it wasn’t handed to me. But in that big city I - was more meeching than a scared pup in a boiler-factory. - </p> - <p> - I had no idea how large a real city was, anyway. Furthermore, all of a - sudden, I found myself becoming very crafty, according to my own - reckoning. I had decided that I was a fugitive from justice and that every - policeman was on the watch for me. Therefore I avoided policemen, turning - comers whenever I saw brass buttons. As I looked on everybody else in the - hurrying multitude as a sharper, on the hunt for country picking, that - left me without anybody to question. I had my nose in the air and must - have sniffed the water-front after a time. At any rate, I found myself - down there, dodging drays, tramping dirty alleys and as completely lost as - a bug in a brush-pile. - </p> - <p> - I lived on chestnuts because I found men selling them on the street. I - drank water from horse-fountains. After I walked all day and most of the - night, and napped for a while, standing up against a building in a dark - corner, I began to feel more or less like a horse; I had eaten so much dry - fodder and had gulped so much water! There were many adventures, of - course, but I have already stated why I may not deal with them. - </p> - <p> - Staggering from weariness, I fairly bumped, at last, into a door which was - labeled: “Trident Wrecking Company, Anson C. Doughty, General Manager.” - This was no accident. I reckon I had tramped all the waterfront and had - read all the signs except that one. - </p> - <p> - I went into the outer office, holding my letter by one corner. - </p> - <p> - Nobody paid any attention to me for half an hour. There were men writing - in big books behind a counter, and finally I pushed the letter over to one - of them who had stopped to light a cigar. He pushed it back. - </p> - <p> - “Not here,” he said. “Doesn’t come here.” - </p> - <p> - “But where will I find him?” - </p> - <p> - “Don’t know. He’s a diver. They don’t do their diving here in the office.” - </p> - <p> - There was not a place in that office where I could sit and I was so tired - I was sick. The man turned his back on me and I did not dare to ask him - any more questions. I backed away from the counter and stood in the middle - of the floor, swaying and blinking. I reckon I must have looked like a - down-and-out bum. At any rate, when a big man came showing a caller out of - a door labeled “General Manager, Private,” he bumped against me when I did - not get out of the road and almost knocked me down. - </p> - <p> - I suppose it was due to my state of mind and body—but till that - moment I had never felt what ugly, vicious hatred—desire to kill—meant. - The feeling came up in me so suddenly that I was frightened. - </p> - <p> - The big man went right on with his friend and took no notice of me. He had - hairy hands which he flourished as he talked, and the coat of his brown - suit had long tails which ended in a sort of scallop at his knees, behind; - it came to me in the flush of my boiling hatred that he looked like a fat - cockroach. And that bump dealt to me when I was so miserable, that - suggestion of the cockroach which always popped up at me as long as I knew - him, later made for another decisive turning-point in my life. Again I am - calling attention to the fact that matters which I did not reckon on as to - amounting to much at the moment have been my mile-stones. As I look back I - recognize the mile-stones, though I could not distinguish them at the - time. For instance, if you keep on with me far enough, I shall tell you - how an affair which counted, perhaps, as the biggest crisis in my life was - dominated by a plain, ordinary monkey with an artificial tail. - </p> - <p> - I followed after that big man with a raging desire to kick him under the - sleek tads of that coat—to pound my fists into his fat back. I might - have given quite an account of myself, at that, for I was full grown at - twenty and as hard as hickory. - </p> - <p> - “As I say,” I heard before he slammed the door behind him, “you better - come along with me down to Trull wharf and talk to Vose himself. He can - tell you—” - </p> - <p> - I gathered my wits and chased along behind. The two of them paid as little - attention to me as they would to a prowling cat. But if they were on the - way to talk to “Vose himself,” that surely was my opportunity. - </p> - <p> - It was some distance and by way of devious alleys, but we came at last to - where a lighter was tied beside a wharf. - </p> - <p> - There was a derrick and the scow was loaded with blocks of granite. A man - was slowly and ceaselessly turning the wheel of a queer-looking machine, - another was carefully handling hose which passed over the side of the - lighter and down into the water, and still another was tending ropes. It - did not occur to me at first what this activity indicated. - </p> - <p> - But when the big man called out, “Is Vose about due to come up?” I - understood at once and was mightily interested. - </p> - <p> - I looked down into the dock and saw water like liquid muck, filled with - floating refuse, and a good deal of the glamour of a diver’s life departed - from my imagination. Somehow I had thought that Jodrey Vose spent his days - in blue depths of pure ocean water, looking around at strange fishes and - exploring mysterious caves. That he was obliged to go down into any such - mess as that and work on blocks of stones with his two hands was a - depressing discovery. - </p> - <p> - After a time there was a bubbling of the turbid water close beside the - lighter, and for the first time in my life I saw a diver’s helmet emerge; - the goggling eye-plates, the grotesque excrescences, the sprouting antennæ - of the hose lines, the venomous hissing of the air from the vents—it - all seemed uncanny, and made me shiver. - </p> - <p> - Men reached down to help him up the ladder, and when he was on deck in - full view, scuffing his huge, weighted shoes, a balloon-like creature, as - shapeless as the doughnut men my mother used to cut for me when she was in - good humor on frying-day, I was sure I had never seen so curious a sight. - </p> - <p> - After he sat down they twisted off the helmet, and the fat man, whom I - reckoned must be Manager Anson C. Doughty, escorted the other man aboard - the lighter and the three started a conversation which I could not hear. - </p> - <p> - I knew the diver for Jodrey Vose because I had seen his picture at the - tavern. - </p> - <p> - The business, whatever it was, did not take much time and the manager and - the other man went away. Helpers began to shuck the diver from his suit; - it was nearing sundown and work for the day was over, it seemed. When he - was free from the bulk of the stuff and was starting for the cabin of the - lighter I went to him and gave him the letter. - </p> - <p> - “From Dod, hey?” Then he told me to follow him. - </p> - <p> - I looked at him while he read the letter by the light of a bracket lamp. - He was a wiry man with a twist of grizzled chin-beard. I was much - comforted when he looked up from the letter and grinned. - </p> - <p> - “Ben Sidney’s boy! Well, your father was the only critter on two legs in - Levant, in the old days, who could stand in a barrel, like I could, and - jump out without touching the sides. You look as if you have some of his - spryness and grit!” - </p> - <p> - “I hope so, sir. I have always worked at what has come to my hands to do.” - </p> - <p> - “Dod says business is a mite slow in Levant and that you want a job.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir.” - </p> - <p> - Now there was gratitude in me as well as comfort; it was evident that - Dodovah Vose had not written that I was a runaway. - </p> - <p> - The diver laid down the letter and went fumbling for his street clothes in - a closet. - </p> - <p> - “At any rate, you can come up to my boarding-place with me for the night - and we’ll talk it all over,” he said, in a very kind way. “If you had only - made yourself known a few minutes ago I could have introduced you to - Manager Anson C. Doughty. But to-morrow will do as well.” - </p> - <p> - I did not dare to offer comment. I wondered what there was about Anson C. - Doughty to keep my hatred of him so stirred. - </p> - <p> - “He takes my recommendations as to my helpers,” said Vose. “There is one - thing a diver has to be sure about—that’s picking his helpers. We’ll - talk it over, I say. If I find there’s considerable of Ben Sidney in you, - I reckon we can make a go of it. Have you a hankering to learn the - business, itself?” - </p> - <p> - I blossomed under the warmth of this kindness, I was full of words by that - time. I hadn’t opened my mouth to talk for two days. I told him about my - evenings in that tavern, my poring over his curios, my ambitions, my - dreams and hopes after hearing the stories his brother had to tell me. - </p> - <p> - When he had finished dressing he clapped me on the shoulder. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I calculate you’re going to do,” he told me. “Don’t get your - expectations too high. I have given up all the deep work—too old. - Five or six years steady at deep work finishes a man. I have nursed myself - along. Wharf work—fifteen to thirty feet—that’s my limit these - days. But I like your spirit, son. Can’t find boys in the city like that! - I should say that you’ve got the real hankering. Cigarettes, ever?” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir! No tobacco.” - </p> - <p> - “No cider jamborees? No express packages from the city?” - </p> - <p> - “No, Mr. Vose.” - </p> - <p> - “Good! I reckon I’ll keep the old town of Levant on the map in the diving - line. I know the game, my boy. And I know how to teach it to the right - kind of a pupil.” - </p> - <p> - “I’m sure you do, Mr. Vose.” - </p> - <p> - “So we’ll talk it all over this evening—and while we’re about it, if - you don’t call me Captain Vose down this way they’ll think you don’t know - me very well.” - </p> - <p> - I blushed, then I followed him out and away. - </p> - <p> - Before I tumbled into bed that night we had settled upon the future so far - as our words to each other went; the bargain only needed the ratification - of Anson C. Doughty—and that was secured next morning. I had - expected that sleep would soothe my nerves and remove my ugly grouch in - the case of that gentleman. However, there must have been something - instinctive in my dislike for him; he looked me up and down and caught my - scowl. - </p> - <p> - “You seem to have picked out a pretty surly up-country steer, Vose! - However, put him to work if you like that kind!” - </p> - <p> - So to work I went. - </p> - <p> - I cleaned diving-suits and thus became familiar with the parts and the - mechanism. I soaked out mud-caked ropes, I tended lines and learned - signals, and was always busy with a hundred other odd jobs as a satellite - of Diver Vose. He used me well enough, though he was never as warm toward - me as he was at our first meeting. - </p> - <p> - After some weeks I lost my fear that I would be followed and taken back to - Levant. I was not sure whether I felt more relief than rancor. To be - considered as not worth chasing, to know they were saying “Good riddance!” - behind my back, gave me thoughts which hurt a certain kind of pride. - </p> - <p> - I was afraid of the city and I went nowhere except to my work and to my - boarding-place. So there was an epoch in my life which was bare of - adventure until Diver Vose sent me down for the first time. - </p> - <p> - He had given me a fine course of sprouts previously, of course. - </p> - <p> - But in spite of all that the first sensations nigh paralyzed me. I reached - bottom and wallowed around without the least thought or remembrance - regarding what I had been told to do. A freight-train seemed to be roaring - around inside my helmet and I was gasping like a dying skate-fish. - </p> - <p> - Then in scuffing around in a sort of panic, taking no care of what I was - about, I hooked my shoe onto something and began to yank and thresh around - in a perfect frenzy. The result was that I pulled the shoe off and my - lightened foot was snapped above my head in a finer spread-eagle than any - acrobatic dancer ever pulled off. To drag that foot down was beyond my - powers, and I tripped and went onto my back. Being up-ended is a diver’s - chief peril, because the air bellies up into the legs of the dress and - leaves scant supply in the helmet. - </p> - <p> - In that crisis there was one idea which stuck to me: I must get that lost - shoe! - </p> - <p> - And I did get it. I groped and rolled and struggled and pulled until I did - get it. A half-dozen times in my efforts I felt them trying to haul me up. - I suppose I must have given signals telling them to quit that. I fought - them as best I could, anyway, until I had recovered the shoe; then I - yanked for a lift and went up. - </p> - <p> - Captain Vose was standing in front of me with the helmet in his hands when - I had recovered my wits enough to notice anybody. - </p> - <p> - “Been dancing a jig?” he inquired, caustically. - </p> - <p> - I shook my head, for I was not able to utter words. - </p> - <p> - “Which did you lose first down there, your nerve or that shoe?” - </p> - <p> - When I hesitated, he snapped, “Give me the truth, now, or we sha’n’t get - along after this!” - </p> - <p> - “My nerve!” I told him. - </p> - <p> - “So I knew—for I lashed on that shoe with my own hands. Very well! - What good are you as a diver without your wits or your nerve?” - </p> - <p> - “No good, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “You can buy an eighteen-pound shoe at any equipment loft. But how about - buying nerve?” - </p> - <p> - “I reckon it can’t be bought, sir,” I confessed. - </p> - <p> - “Still, you were almighty <i>particular</i>,” he sneered, “to bring back - that shoe with you even if you didn’t bring your nerve. Left your nerve on - the bottom, eh?” - </p> - <p> - He was mighty nasty in his tone and his manner, and the men standing - around were grinning. Perhaps even all that would not have put grit back - into me, for I was dizzy and scared and was owning up to myself that I was - better fitted for dry ground than a wet sea-bottom. But just then Anson C. - Doughty bellowed from the wharf: - </p> - <p> - “Say, look here, Vose, let that coward go back upcountry to his steers! We - have no time to fool away on greenhorns.” - </p> - <p> - “If I did leave my nerve on the bottom I’m going back after it, and I’m - going right now!” I told the diver. I was holding the shoe and I dropped - it on deck and shoved my foot into it. Captain Vose kneeled and began to - lash it. - </p> - <p> - “What are you doing, there?” demanded the manager. - </p> - <p> - “Making a diver,” stated my teacher, calmly. - </p> - <p> - “I’m paying you fifty dollars a day to do what I tell you to do, Vose.” - </p> - <p> - “That’s right, sir!” The captain kept right on with the lashings. “There’s - a contract between you and this young man which tells me to teach him how - to be a diver, if he shows the capacity.” - </p> - <p> - “He hasn’t shown it.” - </p> - <p> - “He is going to in about five minutes, sir.” - </p> - <p> - He picked up the helmet and bent over me. - </p> - <p> - “I had a reason for twitting you about that shoe,” he said, in my ear. - “You showed what was in you by bringing it back If you hadn’t brought it - back I would have stripped this suit off you and sent you hipering! You’ve - got it in you! You’re all right! Now go down, son, and set that chain - where I told you to set it. The first scare is the vaccination for this - kind of work. You’re in a way to be immune from now on!” - </p> - <p> - The last sound I heard was the snarl of Anson C. Doughty. That sound - helped me to go to my job that day. I went down and did what was required - of me, and, as I worked below there and became convinced that there was - nothing to harm me if I kept my head, I found my nerve, I reckon, for good - and all, in the diving business. - </p> - <p> - And now that this story seems to be settled into a rut of adventure in my - chosen line of work, hold breath with me and prepare for a couple of most - “jeeroosly jounces,” as old Wagner Bangs used to term his occasional falls - from his state of natural grace. - </p> - <p> - First, I leap as nimbly as I can over three years and a half of hard work, - the story of which would hold as little interest as the biography of a - mud-clam. I slipped and slid and dug in slime, I shagged granite blocks - and dragged chains, I pried into wrecks and had my whack at fumbling in - the watery shadows for the drowned—pitiful bundles floating as if - they were attempting posthumous gymnastics, head down and fingers trying - to touch toes. - </p> - <p> - I did “deep work” on ticklish jobs. - </p> - <p> - So I came into the fifty-dollar-a-day class of workers, to the grim - content of my mentor. - </p> - <p> - I have just remarked that the snarl of Anson C. Doughty sent me in earnest - to my first job. Also, just as suddenly, that snarl pried me loose from my - job. - </p> - <p> - I wish I did not have to confess what I have to say now. I come to jounce - number two! - </p> - <p> - I have spoken a ways back of mile-stones in my life and suggested that - Anson C. Doughty was connected with one. - </p> - <p> - I wish I could give a real, compelling, manly reason why I tossed my hopes - and my prospects so wildly into the air all of a sudden. I have spoken of - my ready temper—but that’s no reason. - </p> - <p> - In fifteen seconds I shifted the life I was living as completely as a - derailing-switch shoots a runaway engine off the main line. - </p> - <p> - The borers of that mysterious hatred for Anson C. Doughty must have been - burrowing in me all the time, even as those little teredinoid bivalves we - call ship-worms gnaw into submerged piles with the edges of their shells. - I was full of burrows and went to pieces all of a sudden. - </p> - <p> - For I came up one day out of thirty fathoms—and that’s man’s work—and - Doughty was giving me green help out of his general meanness—and my - head was far from steady; in addition he gave me his snarl for the last - time, instead of snarling at his infernal dubs who were risking my life. - </p> - <p> - I stepped on his foot with a shoe that was loaded with twenty pounds of - lead—and that’s some anchor!—I walloped him into insensibility - with the end of a rubber hose. Then I resigned informally, while he lay on - the deck of the lighter, grunting back to life again. - </p> - <p> - Nobody stopped me when I said I was going and announced that it would be - dangerous to get in my way. - </p> - <p> - They stood back while I shifted my clothes—and I got away with my - diving equipment, even! It was the newest thing out for those days and the - going styles of gear, and I had paid good money for it. - </p> - <p> - I say again, I wish I had a more cogent reason to give for throwing up my - work. But I’m giving the truth of the matter. I left just that way. I knew - that Anson C. Doughty would have me put in jail if he could catch me. I - knew that I couldn’t do any more diving, for divers are marked men and are - easily located. It was up to me to go and hide; so I went and hid. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - VII—THE PSYCHOLOGY OF A PLUG-HAT| - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span> HAD been about a - bit during three years and a half. I own up frankly that I had found out - that I had more or less of a cheap streak in me. I’m not disguising it - wholly by the name of curiosity; though, of course, a country fellow has a - keen hankering to look in on some of the sights of the big city. - </p> - <p> - When we boys up in Levant used to hand around among ourselves by stealth - some of the flashy papers, I didn’t believe there were such things as I - read in print and saw in pictures. After some of my sporty associates of - the Trident workers began to take me around with them evenings I kept - perfectly still about my earlier disbeliefs, and my cheap streak began to - talk up to me. Somebody came distributing free admission cards to - concerts, managed by religious and fraternal bodies—but I preferred - to pay money at the door of a burlesque theater. I liked to go scouting in - dance-halls, and I haunted low resorts to hear what I could hear and see - what I could see. - </p> - <p> - We went boldly, for we were husky youths. As for myself, I had licked the - boys of Levant at every opportunity—and my Sidney temper afforded me - opportunities aplenty. I was never afraid when I went about alone, either. - I had a rather quiet way of minding my own business and impressing it on - the other fellow that he’d better mind his. - </p> - <p> - So, it may be guessed, most of my wanderings had been done in the lower - quarters of the city. - </p> - <p> - That’s where I went to hide. And I had knowledge enough of the locality to - hide myself effectually and keep hidden. - </p> - <p> - I did get in touch with one of the fellows who had been around a great - deal with me and whom I trusted—for he had no special use for Anson - C. Doughty. - </p> - <p> - Anson C. Doughty was out of doors once more, after spending a week of - retirement in the company of a few busy little leeches, and, as to eyes - and nose, he was not looking so very badly on the outside, but was - evidently having a great amount of trouble with a volcano raging within, - so my informant told me. Mr. Doughty was proclaiming that he proposed to - catch me so that he could make an example for the sake of discipline in - his crews in the future; but according to the program he had promulgated, - he proposed to cut me up with a meatchopper before turning me over to the - law. So I decided to keep under cover for an indefinite period. - </p> - <p> - Then I sent word to Captain Jodrey Vose and had him call on me in my - castle, because I did not want him to think that he had wasted all his - efforts when he had made me a diver. - </p> - <p> - However, the captain did seem to think so. He frankly said so. - </p> - <p> - “You’ll never get another job diving on the Atlantic coast,” he told me. - “In the first place, you won’t dare to show up as a diver where Anson C. - Doughty can grab you. In the next place, Anson C. Doughty has posted you - with all the wrecking companies as being as dangerous as an Asiatic tiger - with lighted kerosene on his tail. Now tell me what made you do it.” - </p> - <p> - I told him. - </p> - <p> - He looked at me with his eyes squizzled up and a frown on his forehead. - </p> - <p> - “I’m getting along in years and I’m probably losing my mind to some - extent,” he said, “but I’ll be cussed if I believe I’ve got entire - softening of the brain. It must be that I’m deaf and can’t understand—because - I don’t get the least idea of why you did it to him. Tell it over.” - </p> - <p> - I told him again. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I must have softening of the brain,” he grunted. “It’s all a - riddle-come-ree to me!” - </p> - <p> - “It is the same to me—and that’s why I can’t explain,” I told him, - frankly. “I hung onto myself all that time, wanting to do it, and then I - let go and did it!” - </p> - <p> - “About as you went to cutting up in Levant before you skipped out,” he - snapped. - </p> - <p> - Up to that time, not by word or look had he let me know that he had any - knowledge of why I had left my home town. - </p> - <p> - “Dod explained it to me in the letter he sent with you. But he had excuses - to give.” - </p> - <p> - I had to admire Captain Vose’s ability to keep his thoughts to himself, as - I remembered the placid countenance he showed to me when he had read that - letter. - </p> - <p> - “Now I reckon that Dod was prejudiced in your favor and that you had been - a young devil the folks wanted to boost out of town. Dod’s judgment was - never very good in the case of any critters who were willing to cater to - him. I don’t suppose you dare to go back up there?” - </p> - <p> - “I don’t want to go.” But all of a sudden a queer wave of homesickness - seemed to come swelling up in me and to choke me like water chokes the - throat of a dredge-pump. “I’m done with that town for good and all,” I - told him. “I got along all right while I was doing dirt as fast as the - rest of ’em, but when I tried to be decent they didn’t give me a - show!” I snapped my finger. “I wouldn’t give <i>that</i> for anybody in - Levant!” - </p> - <p> - I knew I was lying and I think Jodrey Vose knew it, for he was a keen old - chap. He scowled at me and grunted. - </p> - <p> - “Got any money left after all the rake-helling you’ve been doing for a - year past?” - </p> - <p> - So he knew all about that, too! - </p> - <p> - “I’m fixed all right!” But I looked up at the ceiling of my room when I - said it, and I knew I was not fooling him. I ought to have had a bank - account, considering what I had been pulling down. I had all my capital in - my pocket—a roll about as big as my thumb. I had considerable of a - string of memories, such as they were, regarding money I had spent; I had - a brand-new diving dress, and, above all, queer as this may sound, I had a - specially new outfit which was my chief pride: a frock-coat and pearl-gray - trousers, waistcoat modestly fancy—my real tastes in that direction - having been gently suppressed by an honest tailor—and a plug-hat - whose shininess fairly put my eyes out. And up to that time I had had no - opportunity to wear that suit except in front of the mirror in my - hiding-place! - </p> - <p> - I had tested the tilt of that hat at a dozen different angles; I had - nearly broken my neck in efforts to see just how the coat-tails flared in - the back. With a chart as help, a card stuck in the side of the mirror, I - had practised tying a scarf in Ascot style until my staring eyes watered - and my fingers ached. Then I had walked back and forth, trying to get the - hang of a cane. - </p> - <p> - Again I suggest that this may sound queer. But it was only another - manifestation of that cheap streak in me, so I reckon. I was not modeling - my appearance on the looks of any real gentleman I had ever seen; I had - not bought that garb in order to appear at church or to climb into better - society. But from the time I was ten years old I had nursed one special, - hungry, despairing ambition. At the county fair I saw “Diamond Dick” - Shrady marshaling his painted beauties in front of his tent, and, - according to my notion, his rig-out was apparel which shaded even the - robes of royalty. I could not conceive higher height of happiness than to - own and wear for “every day” a suit like that. - </p> - <p> - Consider the lily—as I considered “Diamond Dick”! Then consider me - as I stood in front of that tent! - </p> - <p> - I had on brogan shoes which I had fresh-tallowed for the day. My stockings - were home-knit and bulged out in folds over the tops of my shoes. But I - was not so keenly self-conscious of my footwear as of the rest of my - outfit, because Levant boys wore brogans quite commonly. My trousers were - my special sore point, for even in Levant they had been ridiculed. In the - first place, the cloth was a glazy, stiff stuff; in the second place, my - good mother did not understand how to cut out a boy’s pants. There was - just as much fullness in the front as in the seat. I kept denting in that - fullness with my fists when I was unobserved. I found that by stooping - quite a bit when I walked or stood I was able to keep the fullness caved - in and less noticeable. It was a wonder I did not become permanently - humpbacked while I was wearing out those pants. The legs of them were like - twin stovepipes, and almost as unyielding. They crackled at the knees when - I sat down. Add to those items of attire a hickory shirt, for which I had - made a false bosom out of a shingle painted white, a paper collar, and a - butterfly bow made of a gingham rag, a hard hat which was a paternal - hand-me-down; they called them “dips.” It was a good name. The hat was - exactly the shape of the bowl of a table-spoon. - </p> - <p> - As I leaned back and gaped up at that gorgeous stranger on the platform, - straightening myself and letting my forward fullness swell as it would, - there was born in me that unconquerable hankering—wild desire to be - dressed like that—sometime! To say to myself—sometime—“Now - I am dressed right! Everything about me is just as it should be!” - </p> - <p> - To base my ideas on the outfit “Diamond Dick” wore was probably evidence - of the cheap streak in me, I say, but when you consider me as I stood - there, and then consider the lily, is there not some excuse? - </p> - <p> - I confess with some shame that during my hiding in the city, while I was - tucked away in that boarding-house room, my chief regret was not that I - was out of a job, was not that I had battered the face of my employer, but - was because I could not go out and swell around the streets and the - amusement places wearing that suit and looking that picture of myself - which had been the ideal that lulled me to sleep every night during my - boyhood. - </p> - <p> - I was having some of those dreams while I sat there and gazed up at the - ceiling. At last a big dream had come true. I owned that suit and I knew I - looked mighty well in it. I had put in a good many hours in front of the - looking-glass making sure of that fact. But now that I owned it I was - getting none of the thrills and but little of the satisfaction I had - looked forward to. Realized ambitions in my case—and probably it’s - true in most cases—have always seemed to have a lot of discomforting - tag-ends tied to them. I was practically a prisoner in a dingy room, I - could not go out and sport around in my new regalia, and Jodrey Vose, who - had undertaken to make a man of me, was sitting across the table, scowling - at me with a great deal of disfavor. - </p> - <p> - “Have you taken up drinking along with the rest, young Sidney?” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir; and I never shall. I’m sure of that, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “What are you going to do next?” - </p> - <p> - “I don’t know.” - </p> - <p> - “You’d better go back to Levant.” - </p> - <p> - “I’ll never do that.” - </p> - <p> - “Dod writes that your uncle has been enlarging his business and is making - a lot of money and is going to run for town office. He must need a chap - like you and has probably forgotten any little trouble he might have had - with you.” - </p> - <p> - But I shook my head. - </p> - <p> - “You don’t expect me to do anything more for you, do you?” - </p> - <p> - Again I shook my head. That homesick feeling was swelling up once more. - </p> - <p> - “I hear that they are fitting out another Cocos Island expedition to hunt - for the Peru treasure-ship. You might be able to sign on there. But it’s a - fake job. There’s no sunken ship. However, you’ll get wages.” - </p> - <p> - “I believe I’ll try the Pacific coast, sir.” - </p> - <p> - He slid his forefinger back and forth slowly under his nose. - </p> - <p> - “It might do, son. I have thought of the same jump, myself. I have waited - now till I’m too old. What started me thinking about it some years ago was - the <i>Golden Gate</i> proposition. What troubled me about making up my - mind was that some said the treasure had been got out of her and others - said there was some guesswork. Nobody seemed to be willing to produce any - proof that the treasure was still there. Looking back, I can see now why - all interested parties would naturally rather have it thought that the - treasure wasn’t there. But when a fellow like me has his living to make he - doesn’t want to take too many chances. And the one job I did go on - sickened me of treasure-hunting on somebody’s guesswork.” - </p> - <p> - He was silent for a time. - </p> - <p> - “I am sorry you are in your scrape, young Sidney. You’re done for as a - diver in these parts for a time. Try the Pacific. I don’t say it’s a bad - idea.” He grinned at me. “If you recover the <i>Golden Gate</i> treasure - drop me a postal card.” - </p> - <p> - Then he went away, making no more ado about the matter of our parting. I - was not surprised by that manner of leave-taking. I am a Yankee myself, - and I had found myself wishing that when he went he would walk off without - jawing me or coddling me. - </p> - <p> - I counted my money and sent out for some railroad folders and trailed my - finger across the map—and stayed right on in the city, week after - week. I don’t know exactly what I had lost—ambition or pluck or what - it was! But that was a spell in my life when I was a plumb, square loafer, - and rather enjoyed myself—reading cheap novels and playing solitaire - in the daytime, then getting in with some of the rest of the boarders and - playing poker evenings. In Levant we used to play for beans in - barn-chambers. I had a country boy’s shrewdness in that game, and the city - fellows did not get much of my money away from me; nor did I get any - particular amount of theirs. - </p> - <p> - However, the pastime did bring me into touch with some sporting characters - and with some queer characters, too. There were men who were hiding the - same as I was. The fact that I was under cover gave me open sesame to - their confidence. They talked a great deal, whiling away dull hours in the - day. Several were in the house where I was stopping, and after a time I - dared to go visiting around a bit evenings and went along to other houses, - in the locality. - </p> - <p> - It was all new to me, this “flash” side of fife, and I listened to their - stories with eyes and mouth open. I conceived an idea of writing out these - stories into a book, and after I got back into my room nights I would jot - down all I had heard, names and all. I had all the nicknames of operators - down pat—those names rather fascinated me. There were names which - were based on personal peculiarities or blemishes or system of operating. - I found out that a great many of the parties were linked, either by - relationship or by gang ties, and that the wise boys among the crooks or - the police officers could tell in many cases just what crowd had operated, - providing the identity of one man could be revealed. I reckon I calculated - in those times that I was going to make an exposé, for I made many notes - about the different coteries and their associates. - </p> - <p> - I will say at this point that I have no intention of writing such a book, - and I have gone into a bit of detail about the matter in order that - certain following activities of mine may be understood. Otherwise, I - might, later on, be thought to be advertising myself as one of those - know-it-all and do-it-all heroes of fiction instead of a plain and - ordinary chap who has been swayed by circumstance and governed by accident - in large measure. - </p> - <p> - But I did get a lot of fresh and lively information out of those chaps - with whom I was thrown in. - </p> - <p> - After a time they were not at all bashful about asking me if I wouldn’t - like a lay in some of their operations. - </p> - <p> - They frankly said that they had the best luck in country communities. - Understand that they proposed nothing except brace games! No safe-breakers - in that lot! They said I had an honest way about me that would take well - in the country districts. - </p> - <p> - My money was getting so low I listened with increasing interest. I cannot - say that I was tempted, exactly. But I was beginning to wonder how I was - ever going to make a go of it if I didn’t get some money. My Pacific trip - was all off by that time! My capital had shrunk below the price of a - ticket. - </p> - <p> - They told me that a regular village skinflint with lots of money was, in - most cases, a prime victim if the right bait was offered; with the right - bait he bit more easily than the more liberal kind of an individual, - because the skinflint was more crazy to make money fast and was already - used to getting high rates of interest for all money he let out. They were - making constant search for old chaps in country communities, well-to-do - men who would be tempted to grab at a rich chance or could be induced to - serve as decoys to pull in the neighbors, provided a sufficient rake-off - were offered. - </p> - <p> - There, too, was another thing which surprised me—that so often - really prominent men could be secured as decoys. The knaves I was training - with gave me a lot of stories of the kind; in most cases, so they said, - the men seemed to talk themselves into believing that they were offering - the neighbors an opportunity to make money. - </p> - <p> - If I had not been idle and very curious, and all the time wondering how I - could make a little money for myself, a lot of this would have gone into - one ear and out of the other.. But I was in the mood to take it all in, - and so, in that foolish belief that I could write a story, I set down many - names and many instances until I had well filled a sheaf of papers which I - sewed together into a sort of note-book. - </p> - <p> - There were various side-lines of the craft of cheaters where I was allowed - to be an observer. I watched one of the chaps make up his face for a trip - and learned about false beards attached by spirit gum. There was a cute - little mustache in his kit and I asked him to affix it to my upper lip. He - allowed me to keep it on when I asked permission. - </p> - <p> - I felt so much confidence in that alteration of my features that I went - directly to my room, put on that raiment of my yearning ambition, took in - hand my cane, and went forth into the open. - </p> - <p> - One who has remained long within-doors gets used to the confinement after - a time and the desire to go out is dulled; there are persons who have - voluntarily remained in bed in perfect health for years; but, once the - plunge outside is made, the desire for further liberty grows by what it - grasps in the blessedness of outdoors. I determined to be free from then - on and to test the quality of that freedom. It was astonishing what - confidence I felt in myself when I walked abroad in that rig, casting - side-glances at myself in store windows as I walked. It is amazing what - the right sort of clothes will do for a man’s grip and grit. - </p> - <p> - I went down to the docks and walked about, deliberately seeking to put - myself in the path of Anson C. Doughty. He did come face to face with me - after a time, looked at me with considerable interest, for plug-hats were - none too common in that locality, and passed on with bland indifference. - My transition was too much for him; I was the butterfly that had emerged - from the pupa of a diving-dress. After that I bestowed no further thought - on dangers to be apprehended from Anson C. Doughty. - </p> - <p> - I was more concerned with speculation on where my next meal was coming - from, for I was flat broke. I suppose that fact had something to do with - driving me out on the street; it was not wholly proud eagerness to show - myself in that suit of clothes. - </p> - <p> - All of a sudden I received direct proof that a plug-hat is occasionally - something to conjure by. - </p> - <p> - Perhaps it is on the principle that advertising pays; a man with slick, - silk headgear is supposed to be at least something which can be classed - under the title of “professor.” At any rate, I was hailed by that title by - a man who stood in a broad doorway. I stopped and he had something - interesting to say to me. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - VIII—“TAKING IT OUT” ON A SUIT OF CLOTHES - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HAT doorway was - solidly banked with banners frescoed in gaudy colors and roughly painted; - they advertised a show within. A few glances I had time to give while I - walked toward the man who had hailed me, revealed that there were on tap - such features as “Petrified Mormon Giant,” “Siamese Susie,” “Mammoth - Peruvian Cockatoo,” and others. Over the door was heralded in big letters: - “Dawlin’s Mammoth Wonder Show.” - </p> - <p> - I guessed that the man in the doorway might be Dawlin. He wore a corduroy - suit, with gaiters, and a broad-brimmed cowboy hat was canted on one side - of his head. By the way in which he was looking me over I could see that I - was suiting him. - </p> - <p> - “Hitched up with a show?” he asked. - </p> - <p> - I told him that I was not, and I said it with considerable curtness. To be - sure, the personality and garb of Showman Shrady had formed my early - ideal, and I ought to have felt gratified, I suppose, when this man took - me for a showman. But I was pricked a little by the thought that my - appearance seemed to grade me on that plane. “Want to hitch on?” - </p> - <p> - “What makes you think I’m in the show business?” - </p> - <p> - “I had you sized that way on account of the scenery.” I gathered that he - meant my clothes. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t see any circus signs on this suit of mine,” I told him. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, say, I didn’t mean to offend—but it’s usually only sports and - professionals who tog that way down in this part of the town. If you’re a - gent you seem to be off your beat.” - </p> - <p> - There was nothing offensive about the man—he seemed a good-humored - chap who was a little cheeky. - </p> - <p> - “Well, what if I had been a showman—what about it?” - </p> - <p> - “I was going to offer you a lay—here at the door.” - </p> - <p> - “Selling tickets?” - </p> - <p> - “Good gad, no, man! I want you for the spiel—for the oratory—tongue-work—hooking - the hicks! You’re rigged out just right. You must know that the better the - front we put on at the door, the better the business inside! But excuse me - if I got the tags shifted!” - </p> - <p> - I swung my cane with one hand and with the other hand in my pocket sifted - coins through my fingers. There were not many coins. I needed more in a - hurry. It had been impressed on me that in spite of all my pride in my - attire I did not look like a “gent”; it was certain that I did not feel - like one. Disappointment was curdling pride in me; my clothes had gone - back on me. I entertained a sort of a grudge against them. All of a sudden - I made up my mind to get back at those garments which had cost me so much - money and now repaid me in contentment so niggardly. - </p> - <p> - “It would be all new business for me. Can I do it, do you suppose?” I - asked the man. - </p> - <p> - “Looks are half the battle. You’ve got capital in your clothes to start - with. You don’t look like a souse! The last two I have had on the door - pawned their rigs for rum. I’ve got the patter stuff all written out. All - you’ve got to do is study it and reel it off like you used to recite - pieces in school.” - </p> - <p> - “What’s the pay?” - </p> - <p> - Seeing surrender in my face, he winked and crooked his finger in - invitation to me to follow him inside. He led me into a narrow little - office. He offered a drink and a cigar, and I refused both. - </p> - <p> - “Gee! Some principles, hey? Now, if you’re a church member I reckon you - won’t stand for the lay!” - </p> - <p> - “I’m devilish far from being a church member,” I told him. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t like to open up too much till I know a little something about - you. Can you tell me?” - </p> - <p> - I told him enough to make him pretty much at ease. - </p> - <p> - “Do you know any of the right kind in this locality—the sporting - bunch?” - </p> - <p> - I gave a roster of acquaintances that made his eyes glisten. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, then, you’re all right!” he cried, slapping my knee. “In <i>my</i> - business a fellow has to try the ice before he slides out too far. I’m - coming right across to you.” He waved his hand to indicate his - establishment. “This show is only a hinkumginny, you know!” - </p> - <p> - “I thought so,” I said, calmly. I hadn’t the least idea what he meant, but - I knew that one needed to act wise with wise gentlemen. - </p> - <p> - “We run the gazara game and phrenology.” - </p> - <p> - I nodded and winked an eye as if I had been quite sure of that fact right - along. - </p> - <p> - He scratched a few figures on a wisp of paper and pushed it to me across - the desk-slide on which he had set out the whisky-glasses. - </p> - <p> - “That’s the split,” he said, grinning. Still it was all Greek to me. - </p> - <p> - “I know places doing half our business and paying twice as much—and - every once in a while having to settle a squeal, at that! But I’ve got a - cousin at headquarters—see? Nothing to it! Now you can understand - what a sweet little pudding you’re pulling alongside of.” - </p> - <p> - I was wishing I could understand better, though I was developing a dim - notion that he was talking about money paid for protection from the law. - He pulled back the paper and tore it up. - </p> - <p> - “Only fifty a week,” he said; “it’s nothing. I’m thinking of throwing in - another twenty-five without their asking. It beats laying up treasures in - heaven!” - </p> - <p> - I agreed. - </p> - <p> - “Now as to a lay for you! Of course, first of all, I have to grab off my - fifty of the net—it’s my show and my pull! Then there’s the ‘Prof’—Professor - Jewelle. He has his twenty-five per cent. I’ll tell you straight, now, I - have been getting by with those dickerdoodles I’ve had out on the stand - for fifteen per cent., and ‘prof’ and I have divided the other ten. But - they were crumby! Their suits were wrinkled worse than an elephant’s - dewlap, and the nap of their plug-hats was fruzzled up like the fur in the - mane of the Australian witherlick. No pull to that class! The jaspers - jogged right past without being a mite impressed. If you grab in with us - your looks and your style make you worth a lay of twenty-five per cent. - Now what say?” - </p> - <p> - “I’ll grab,” I told him, and never did a man hire with less idea of just - what kind of a business he was entering or what pay he was going to get - for his labor. - </p> - <p> - “You say your name is Ross Sidney,” said the boss, remembering what I had - told him. “Mine is Jeff Dawlin, Ross, and there’s no mistering among - partners.” He gave me a few dirty sheets of paper. “There’s your spiel all - written out. You can add your own talk as you work into the spirit of the - thing. The idea is get them to stop, look, listen—and then coax till - they come in. If they come out squealing, you go on and bawl them—bawl - them down! There’s some good work to be done in that line—and you’re - husky and can scare ’em, providing Big Mike hasn’t already scared - ’em enough. There isn’t a thing in the show but what’s a fake—of - course you understand that. Most of ’em are too ashamed to squeal.” - </p> - <p> - He was leading me into the inner mysteries of the place while he talked. - He made no reference to the objects which were ranged around the sides of - the big room, plainly despising them as curiosities which could not - possibly interest anybody. But they interested me mightily and I lagged - behind to give each one a glance in passing. - </p> - <p> - “Siamese Susie” was made up of a couple of big wax dolls confined in a - single dress. “The Peruvian Cockatoo” manifestly had been, when he was - alive, the humble master of some up-country barn-yard; now he was tricked - out with all sorts of dyed false feathers, including an enormous topknot. - The “Mormon Giant” was a papier-mâché figure, and there was a hideous - thing labeled “Mermaid” constructed of the same material as the giant. - There were a few other nondescript exhibits in dingy glass cases or - mounted on stands draped in dirty hangings. I had never seen a collection - of more shameless frauds. I began to understand that I had not been let in - on the main proposition for money-making. - </p> - <p> - On one side of the room there were curtains lettered: “Professor Jewelle, - the World’s Greatest Seer.” The professor came out when Dawlin called for - him. He wore a wig and false white whiskers, and had watery eyes, and a - breath like a whiff from a distillery chimney. A big brute of a man was - loafing in one corner of the room, and I reckoned that this person must be - Big Mike; I had seen many such of the bouncer sort when I had made my - rounds, hunting for experiences. - </p> - <p> - Mr. Dawlin introduced me, and I seemed to make a good impression. - </p> - <p> - When he slyly slid out the information that I, too, had been having - troubles which had kept me under cover for some weeks, I noted that I - stood even higher in their estimation. - </p> - <p> - As we talked on I began to feel a bit ambitious. I thought I might be able - to improve business. - </p> - <p> - “Look here,” I suggested, “why not put a tank in here and let me do some - of my diving stunts? It would be a novelty—there really doesn’t seem - to be much to the show as it stands.” - </p> - <p> - “Say, I haven’t pulled a greenhorn into camp, have I?” inquired Mr. Dawlin - with a good deal of tartness. “Show? Good gad! who ever said we wanted a - show?” - </p> - <p> - I did not know what to say to that and so I did not answer. - </p> - <p> - “What do you think I would be doing, or the ‘prof’ would be doing, while - the jethros were crowded around you? We wouldn’t be doing a thing in the - line of the regular graft. The main idea of this concern is to get ’em - in here where there’s nothing to take up their minds after they’ve had one - look around the place. Then they begin to feel that they want to get - something for their money. So the ‘prof’ hands ’em the dome dope—feels - their bumps—and I feed ’em the gazara stuff. How many times - have I got to tell you what this place is?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I’m wise,” I said, trying hard to look that way. “But of course I’m - anxious to do all I can to help.” - </p> - <p> - “The zeal of youth! The zeal of youth!” prattled the professor. He seemed - to me to be pretty much of an old fool. He had that smug, cooing way with - him—all put on like the airs of a country undertaker. He came across - to me before I could understand what he was about and stuck his thumb onto - a spot on the top of my head and pressed with his forefinger a little - lower down. “Yes, approbativeness well developed and conscientiousness—this - where my finger—” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, shut up!” snorted Mr. Dawlin. “Don’t cry to put that stuff over among - friends.” - </p> - <p> - “However,” the professor went on, continuing to fondle my head, “the - development of the brain upward, forward, and backward, from the medulla—” - </p> - <p> - “Save it for the cud-wallopers, I tell you!” - </p> - <p> - “If this young man is going to have his say about me in front, I want him - to know that the science of phrenology has a good exponent here,” said the - professor. - </p> - <p> - I reckon he had seen me looking him over without a great amount of liking - and was anxious to put on a bit of a front. - </p> - <p> - “He’ll say that you’ll read all heads free of charge, and that’s <i>all</i> - he’ll say,” stated Mr. Dawlin. “It isn’t necessary for him to know the - difference between a medulla and a free-lunch pickle—and I don’t - believe <i>you</i> know, yourself. Ross, we want to open the doors again - to-morrow. Do you think you can get the gist of that patter into your head - overnight?” - </p> - <p> - I thumbed the dirty sheets and said I’d do my best. Therefore, I went to - my room and applied myself. There was a lot of extravagant guff about the - curiosities, flowery flapdoodle of the usual barker sort. - </p> - <p> - The next morning I was able to make some sort of a try at it from the - stand, for I have said before that I always was more or less cheeky. A - sort of a fluffy-ruffle damsel with bleached hair was in the ticket-office - and there never was a young fellow yet who did not try on a little extra - swagger when a girl was hard by. She smiled at me encouragingly when I had - arrested the attention of a few passers, some of whom bought tickets and - went in. I guess I must have smiled back, for Dawlin, who was standing in - the doorway, appraising my first efforts, came and climbed up beside me - and growled in my ear. - </p> - <p> - “You’re breaking in fine. Only put a little more punch and sing-song into - it! And, by the way, the dame who is shuffling the pasteboards—she’s - private goods—mine!” - </p> - <p> - “I don’t want her,” I said, with considerable heat. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t say you do—but a lot of trouble has sometimes been made in - partnerships by women. So that’s why I have flipped the buried card at the - start-off. Now tune up and let it went! If your voice gets husky I’ll send - out a handful of bird-seed and a hunk of cuttlefish.” I reckoned he was - trying his cheap humor on me to smooth the insult about the girl. It - seemed to me like an insult, and he understood pretty well how I felt. - </p> - <p> - So I went to my job and minded my own business most exclusively. - </p> - <p> - Day after day, for several weeks, I stood up on my rostrum and cajoled - folks into that joint, and I say frankly and honestly that for a long time - I did not have full understanding of just what went on inside. Possibly - that statement makes me out a mighty stupid chap. - </p> - <p> - But I was ashamed to ask any more questions after what Dawlin had yapped - out about his suspicions that I was a greenhorn. - </p> - <p> - I did not have any special conversation with him, anyway. I was still ugly - when I thought upon his warning about that painted girl—as if I - wanted her! And I was careful that she should have no word to carry to him - about me; I never looked in her direction. - </p> - <p> - Furthermore, I did not want to know very much about what they were up to - inside. I was ashamed of my job. It struck me that if I came to know all - the fraud of the thing I’d jack the proposition. An ostrich sort of - attitude, to be sure, a foolish evasion, but that’s just how it was, like - other things which came up in my life, things not lending themselves - readily to explanation as I look back on them now. - </p> - <p> - I saw patrons come out, some angry and with red faces, some ashamed, some - laughing—but only a few of the last, and they were plainly chaps who - took it as a joke when anybody could put something across in their case. - </p> - <p> - Man after man came out with a broad piece of paper in his hand, crumpled - it up, swore, and dashed it down on the sidewalk. - </p> - <p> - It was a chart purporting to be a reading of bumps, as Professor Jewelle - sized up the patron’s cranium. Nobody seemed to be very well pleased. A - lot of them pitched into me and said that I had promised that the reading - was free. - </p> - <p> - Well, the reading was free. - </p> - <p> - But once the victim had ventured inside the curtains and after the free - reading, the professor handed over the chart and demanded three dollars - for it. - </p> - <p> - Disputes ended promptly, for Big Mike was always present. The vocabulary - of that bellowing bull was limited to two words in those séances—“Three - dollars!” - </p> - <p> - Of course I had to find this out before long or stand convicted in these - records as liar and half-wit combined. - </p> - <p> - I also found out about the gazara game, Mr. Dawlin’s special project. - </p> - <p> - There was an oblong box in which were stacked leather envelopes, each - envelope bearing a numbered card. - </p> - <p> - Mr. Dawlin seemed to be a very generous individual; he would allow patrons - to win considerable money by picking prize envelopes into which he had - slipped crisp bills; he also seemed to be a careless operator. For - instance, he would quite openly put a twenty or a fifty dollar bill into - the envelope holding the card numbered 0. Then he would shuffle the - envelopes and with carelessness utterly blind would leave the corner of - that card sticking up a bit, revealing the upper part of the numeral. - Feverishly excited patrons would bid high for the privilege of drawing - first—sometimes almost as high as the prize itself, for Mr. Dawlin - had plainly left a good thing exposed. But, strangely enough, what had - seemed like the figure 0 was revealed in the drawing as the figure 9 with - an exaggerated upper loop. If the patron made moan and let out the secret - of his grief, Mr. Dawlin reproached him for trying to take advantage of an - oversight in an honest game. Such was the activity known as “gazara” in - our establishment! I don’t know who gave the game that designation. I - believe that in Maccabees a town of that name is spoken of—and being - in Apocrypha seems well placed. It may be that the game started there—at - the same time the gold-brick game was hatched in Gomorrah. Both schemes - must be very ancient—for they are true, tried, and certain. - </p> - <p> - Mr. Dawlin had much information to give me regarding games in general. He - told me about his brother Ike, a proficient gold-brick artist. He said - that if I cared to go into that line he would put me next to his brother. - Mr. Dawlin, as had the others of his fraternity, complimented me on my - honest looks. When I dared to suggest that the gold-brick scheme must be - known to everybody, and all played out, he laughed at my ignorance. He - said that getting a whole lot for a little always had been a bait for - human greed and always would be; as to getting at the yaps in these days, - it was only a matter of fresh style of approach and men like his brother - were thinking up new methods of approach all the time. - </p> - <p> - Men who needed money in a hurry to make up a balance were almost always - ready to gamble heavily and desperately. - </p> - <p> - He said his brother had a deal on at that very time, but that it was too - late for me to get in on that, for the thing was all set and pretty near - ready to be pulled off. It was an up-country case, of course. - </p> - <p> - “Plant by ‘Peacock’ Pratt,” said Davdin. That was a new name for my roster - of rascality, and I stuck it into a mental pigeonhole. “Pratt is a - white-vest operator. Paunch scenery!” He saw that I wasn’t catching him - very well and explained that Pratt affected the manner of a prosperous - Westerner who regularly stoned neighbors’ chickens out of his garden with - gold nuggets. - </p> - <p> - Speaking of gold, I was not specially dissatisfied with the rake-off I was - getting from these precious rascals, though, of course, it was small as - compared with my diver’s wages. But standing in the sunshine under a - plug-hat with nothing to do but gabble nonsense was a softer snap than - grubbing under muddy water with a diver’s helmet stuck over my head. I was - truly in a way to succumb to the blandishments of my cheap screak and - settle down into the practice of roguery. - </p> - <p> - But I had some sense of shame left in me. I kept on that disguising - mustache when I was before the public. It was not much of a mask, to be - sure, but it comforted me a bit to know that it made me look unlike - myself. - </p> - <p> - And that’s why the Sortwell boys from Levant did not recognize me when - they halted on the sidewalk one day and listened to my barking. - </p> - <p> - There they were, the two of them, grown up to manhood; but they were - mighty green specimens. They were looking at the banners rather than at - me. I wagered with myself that it was the first time they had ever been in - the big city; even one trip would have rounded off some of the rough - comers they were showing. For instance, they surely would have had - experience with such a peep-show as we were running and would not have - been tempted. - </p> - <p> - They walked over to the painted maiden and asked her if she could - recommend the show; they grinned and gaped at her amorously. She fawned on - them and they bought tickets and went in. I wasn’t a bit sorry, nor did I - try to stop them. My last expenence with the gang in Levant had not - implanted in me any hankering to hug and kiss the Sortwell boys. - </p> - <p> - I watched for them to come out, for I felt pretty sure that they would be - properly trimmed and I anticipated secret relish in looking on their - faces. I told myself I didn’t care. If a good jolt should be handed to - them it would help in satisfying my grudge against the town which had sent - me flying. Bitterness was in me at that moment. I was glad I was out of - the jay place. If I had stayed there I would be looking just like those - simpering rubes who had gone in like lambs to be sheared. I’d never want - to go back to that town, I decided all over again. - </p> - <p> - When they came out each one carried one of Professor Jewelle’s charts, and - they were crying like great calves—actually guffling slobbering - sobs. They went away a little distance and stood on the sidewalk, looking - at each other and scruffing tears from their eyes with the palms of their - hands. Awhile back if somebody had told me I would see a couple of big, - larruping chaps from Levant doing that on the street in broad daylight, - I’d have predicted a good laugh for myself. - </p> - <p> - Well, there was nothing like that in my case! - </p> - <p> - A lump swelled in my throat. I don’t know what it was—whether ’twas - homesickness, longing for my own people of my own kind, spectacle of boys - who had gone barefoot with me, sight of their sorrow, mindfulness of what - the cruel city had done to me, reflection that I had helped in a measure - to get them into their scrape—I say I don’t know just what it was. - But my throat gripped and tears flowed up into my eyes. Those poor devils, - who were children in spite of their size, were helplessly adrift—I - could see that. Something special must have happened to them. - </p> - <p> - I seem to be stopping to analyze my emotions. At the time I was doing - nothing of the sort. I felt a comforting sense that I was not a rascal - down in my heart, in spite of what I had done and of the job I was holding - down. - </p> - <p> - I left my rostrum, ran into the little office, and tipped Dawlin’s bottle - of whisky against my upper lip; the alcohol dissolved the gum and I ripped - off the mustache. Then I chased along after the Sortwell boys. They were - far up the street, plugging slowly with bowed shoulders. - </p> - <p> - When I came close upon them I took my time to get my breath and control my - emotions. Then I called to them, and they turned around and stared at me - with eyes which expressed all the range of feelings between interrogation - and stupefaction. - </p> - <p> - “Well, haven’t you anything to say to an old friend?” I asked. - </p> - <p> - “It ain’t you,” faltered the older. “It may look like you, but it ain’t.” - </p> - <p> - “There ain’t anything in this place that’s looking like it really is,” - whimpered the younger. “There was a card with a zero on it and it wasn’t a - zero—it was a nine—and he took our money.” - </p> - <p> - “Have you lost your money, boys?” - </p> - <p> - “All of it—every scrimptom of it,” bawled the older. “We ’ain’t - got anything to get home with. We saved up to come down and see the city - for a couple of days—and now it’s all gone.” - </p> - <p> - “We worked all winter logging—sweating and freezing in Cale Warson’s - swamp—to earn that money, and that hell-hound down there took it and - jammed it into his pants pocket. And how’ll we get home?” - </p> - <p> - Oh, I knew what logging in a swamp was! I knew what sort of wages were - paid and how hard it is to save! That one sentence fairly lanced my - conscience. “He jammed it into his pocket!” To Jeff Dawlin, who reached - out and took in his money so easily, those bills were hardly more than so - much paper, as he handled them. - </p> - <p> - But he had not been a boy in a country town where money is not come at so - easily, where the little hoards grow so slowly, where there are so many - dreams about the big world up in the attics under the patched coverlids—dreams - which the little savings may bring to realization! - </p> - <p> - These were boys from my home town. Thank God, a lot of the cheap in me, - the soul-dirt I had rubbed off in my associations, the cynical notions - about right and wrong, the inclinations of a swaggering sport—yes, a - whole lot of that slime was washed out of me right there and then by my - new emotions. I don’t say I was made anyways clean—not all of it - went. I have done many things since then to be ashamed of. But I was a - blamed sight more of a man when I went up and patted those poor boys on - their backs, standing between them. - </p> - <p> - “Don’t take on about it any more, fellows,” I said. “I guess I’ll be able - to do something for you.” My tone was pretty important and they began to - look me over; they had been so fussed up that they had not taken full - stock of me till then. - </p> - <p> - “Golly! You’re rich, ain’t you?” gasped the older. - </p> - <p> - “Now about losing this money—where did you lose it?” I asked, - swelling a little more because I knew I was in the way to make a big - impression. - </p> - <p> - “Down the street there—where those fraud duflickers are all billed - out! It looked like a zero—” - </p> - <p> - “And they charged three dollars apiece for feeling of our heads!” put in - the younger. “There was a big man who cracked his fists—” - </p> - <p> - “Never mind! I know all about all such places, boys. I won’t allow any - such things to be put across in this city on any friends of mine!” - </p> - <p> - I was talking as if I owned the town. They goggled at me as if they - believed that I did own it. When I started back toward Dawlin’s joint they - followed me like hounds at heel. - </p> - <p> - I flipped a lordly gesture at the girl in the ticket-office and walked in - without paying—herding my clients ahead of me. That was visible - evidence of my mysterious importance, and they looked up at me as if they - were ready to fall down and offer worship. For in America any man who can - walk past ticket-sellers and pay by a flip of the hand, displays a power - which autocrats may envy. - </p> - <p> - “You are sure this is the place?” I asked the Sortwell boys. - </p> - <p> - They breathlessly assured me that it was. - </p> - <p> - “And there’s the man who made us pay him six dollars,” declared the older. - </p> - <p> - Professor Jewelle had stepped out through the slit in his curtains. I - walked up to him. - </p> - <p> - “Did you charge these gentlemen six dollars—take the money from - them?” I asked, sternly. - </p> - <p> - He saw that there was something on and, like a rogue, believed, of course, - that I was plotting further graft on these innocents. He played up to me - with shrewd promptness. - </p> - <p> - “If I have done anything wrong I ask pardon,” he whined. - </p> - <p> - “These are particular friends of mine. Hand over their money at once!” - </p> - <p> - He turned his back on them while he pulled out the money and gave me a - wink which indicated that he was on and approved whatever game I was - playing. I kept my face straight and stern, for the boys were surveying me - with adoration. - </p> - <p> - I handed them the money and went across to Mr. Dawlin’s booth, the hicks - at my heels. - </p> - <p> - Mr. Dawlin was by nature more suspicious of his fellow-man than was - Professor Jewelle, and he evidently resented the fact that I had not - tipped him off in advance. He regarded me with much sullenness when I - commanded him to return the money he had taken from the gentlemen. His - sour unwillingness, mingled with his uncertainty, really helped my game - along. It looked as if I had the power to force even such a balky mule as - Dawlin seemed to be. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t know about this!” he growled. - </p> - <p> - “I can’t help that! You’ll have to take my word—till you can get - something better,” I added, and I put a little significance into my last - words. - </p> - <p> - And Mr. Dawlin, being a rascal who thought he could sniff a plant, decided - to grab in on a partner’s game. “Why, sure, boss,” he cried, heartily, “if - that’s the way you feel about it! Take any gents that’s friends of yours - and all you have to do is speak the word!” He pulled out of his trousers - pocket a big wad of crumpled bills. “Do you know how much they spent - backing their opinion against mine?” - </p> - <p> - “It was twenty-two dollars—it was just twenty-two dollars,” piped - one of the boys, and the other one helped out on the chorus. - </p> - <p> - “The rising young financiers seem to have no doubt,” sneered Dawlin. - </p> - <p> - The older boy looked at the big swatch of bills and rasped his rough hands - together. - </p> - <p> - “Perhaps money don’t mean much to you, mister, handling it the way you do! - But if you earnt twenty-two dollars by day’s work, getting into a - popple-swamp before sunup, I guess you’d know it when you counted those - dollars out to anybody.” - </p> - <p> - “So that’s the way you earned this money? How much more did you earn?” - Dawlin screwed a look at me, showing fresh suspicion. - </p> - <p> - “I’ll do the talking,” I said. “I’ll talk because I know what I’m doing! I - say only this: hand over the coin!” - </p> - <p> - “And I say again, I don’t know about that!” - </p> - <p> - I reckoned I was overplaying my air of importance, so I found a chance to - slip him a wink which promised a good deal. - </p> - <p> - “But you know who I am!” I told him. - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” he admitted. - </p> - <p> - “Then pay!” - </p> - <p> - He began to grin, finding this little comedy amusing as well as - mysterious. - </p> - <p> - “Sure thing, boss! And seeing that it’s you and your orders,’ here’s five - dollars for your friends on top of the twenty-two. Go and buy five - dollars’ worth of corned beef and eat your heads off! Nothing like going - the limit when you come down to the big burg!” - </p> - <p> - I gave Mr. Dawlin a knowing look when I turned to leave. - </p> - <p> - “My friends are much obliged for the extra five—but they can use it - for something else besides eats. Come on, gentlemen! You will be my guests - at dinner.” - </p> - <p> - I could see by Dawlin’s face that he took that last as a straight tip from - me that I had designs on the countrymen—and that he would understand - why I was quitting my job for a time. He gave me a most benignant smile - when I left. - </p> - <p> - Professor Jewelle smirked and bowed when we passed him. - </p> - <p> - Big Mike, the ogre of the place, stepped politely to one side and twisted - his ugly mug into a one-sided grin of apology. - </p> - <p> - So we went out in state. - </p> - <p> - There was a new feeling in me. It was a longing to be with those boys from - home. Up to then I had been ashamed to meet anybody from Levant. And out - of that shame had come a sort of dread to hear any news from my old town. - Now I was hungry for news. - </p> - <p> - To be sure, just at that moment I was in a fool’s paradise of spurious - importance. It was comforting, however, to be set on a pedestal by those - Sortwell boys, and to know that at least two persons from Levant had - stopped thinking of me as a runaway scalawag. - </p> - <p> - Along with my new feelings had come a sort of vague hope. - </p> - <p> - I walked out of Dawlin’s place with a hazy notion that I would never go - back. Dawlin was evened up with me as to finances—I had my last - week’s rake-off in my pocket. - </p> - <p> - And I may say right here that I never did go back—not to stand up - and coax suckers! When I did go back I played Mr. Jeff Dawlin for one! - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - IX—A GRISLY GAME OF BOWLS - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span> DID not bother - with any of the victualing houses in that low-down locality. I led the - Sortwell boys uptown and ushered them into a very fancy restaurant. I - could see that their opinion of my greatness was growing all of the time. - I could not induce them to touch the bill of fare or even look at it. They - gaped in such a frightened way when I mentioned fancy dishes, that I - helped to set them at ease by ordering steak and potatoes. They ate to the - last scrap, cleaning their plates with morsels of bread, even as grateful - pups lick their platters. They confessed that they had not dared to go - into an eating-house, and I remembered that first day when I had roamed - the streets of the city. - </p> - <p> - I wanted to ask questions about Levant, but I delayed. Dave Sortwell, the - older, opened up the subject, but he did not do it very gracefully. - </p> - <p> - “I reckon they can’t slur the Sidneys after this, like they have always - done past back,” he said. “Here you are, something big down here in the - city—and your uncle Deck is first selectman of Levant.” - </p> - <p> - So my uncle had achieved his political ambition! When I heard that news I - had inside me a feeling of apprehension which I could scarcely account - for. - </p> - <p> - “Elected last week at the March town-meeting,” affirmed Ardon, the - brother. “We younger fellows that have come of voting age went for him—most - all of us, because he say’s he is going to turn politics in our town - upside down and dance a jig on the bottom of ’em.” - </p> - <p> - “He was into the tavern the other night, pretty well teaed up,” giggled - Dave, “and he said he was going to gallop Judge Kingsley to hell and stand - over him with a red-hot gad while he shoveled brimstone. He has got it in - for the judge—and a good many folks in Levant ain’t sorry. Judge - Kingsley has always gouged folks.” - </p> - <p> - “Did they put the judge out of the treasurership—did my uncle bring - that about?” Hearing that the feud was on worse than ever made my heart - sick. I had been hoping! - </p> - <p> - “O Lord, no! I guess the judge is forever fixed in that job. Folks can’t - seem to think of anybody else as treasurer. He’s a financier,” said Dave, - reverently. “He knows all about handling money. Folks trust to him for - that.” - </p> - <p> - “But you say my uncle—” - </p> - <p> - “Your uncle is doing most of the saying. Folks stand round and listen. I - don’t know what he is trying to do to the judge. Nobody seems to know. - Guess he can’t do much of anything except talk. You know, yourself, Ross, - how he keeps sparked up most of the time. Maybe he don’t know just what he - says, himself.” - </p> - <p> - I began to skirt the edges of conditions in Levant, asking questions about - this one and that, showing as much indifference as I could. But the - Sortwell boys showed even more indifference about their home town. It was - all too familiar to them. They were displaying increasing interest in me, - and were emboldened to ask questions, now that their early awe was wearing - off. - </p> - <p> - I found out—and I was rather surprised—that the folks in - Levant had not heard a word about me since I left the town. I had rather - expected that Dodovah Vose would drop some hint as to what had become of - me—and yet, on reflection, I could see that prudence required him to - keep still. He had helped a prisoner to escape, and could not well let - anybody suspect that he knew the whereabouts of that prisoner. - </p> - <p> - “I’ll tell you, boys,” I said, when they had flanked me with questions - from every approach and had finally and fairly pounced on me to find out - what I was doing for a living and how I was so important, “I am hitched up - with big business interests who don’t allow their men to talk. I’d tell - you if I could tell anybody. It isn’t one special kind of business—it’s - all kinds—a sort of a syndicate—a combination. You - understand!” - </p> - <p> - They hastened to say that they did—and I was glad of that because I - didn’t understand, myself. - </p> - <p> - “But you’ll let us say that you’re in this big business, won’t you? When - we get back home we want to tell all of ’em that they’d better not - slur you any more.” - </p> - <p> - “I suppose the backbiters have been busy, eh?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, not much nowadays except somebody remarks once in a while that you - had to skip the town. You know how such things pop up in talk. Your uncle - being prominent nowadays, you get mentioned once in a while. But Dodovah - Vose has always stood up for you!” - </p> - <p> - “And a lot of folks didn’t believe what that detective said. He wasn’t a - real detective, anyway. He was only a deputy sheriff from Pownal,” added - Ardon, and the next minute I felt like hugging the boy. “I was always - ashamed of how us fellows put you in bad, Ross, and so I owned up when - Celene Kingsley asked me—” - </p> - <p> - I couldn’t help it! I came right up in my chair. “Celene Kingsley asked - you?” - </p> - <p> - He misunderstood my heat. - </p> - <p> - “Don’t be mad, Ross! I stood up for you, I say! I was sorry for what I - did. I was ashamed.” - </p> - <p> - “But you said Celene Kingsley asked you something!” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I can’t remember whether she came right to me and asked me or - whether it just happened that the thing came up somewhere or—” - </p> - <p> - “But you would surely remember if <i>she</i> came to you!” I could not - conceive of Celene coming to anybody without it marking a mile-stone in - life. - </p> - <p> - However, the Sortwell boy had plainly decided to be non-committal until he - had a better line on my feelings in the affair. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t want you to be mad because I talked it over, Ross. I stood up for - you!” - </p> - <p> - “But did she come <i>asking?</i>” - </p> - <p> - “We-e-ll, I guess she must have asked—or—or something! Anyway, - it came up in talk—somehow—” - </p> - <p> - Confound his haziness! - </p> - <p> - “And of course I stood up for you. It was only right! I told her how you - tried to bust up the Skokums! I said you threatened to bat out the brains - of the whole of us if we didn’t stop cutting-up. I told her that they - hadn’t ought to have arrested you that night, for you was trying to stop - us from raiding her father’s house to grab that detective. You said - something about a home being a castle—or—or something. Anyway, - Ross, I did the best I knew how—I ain’t so much good in talk as you - are. Honestly, I did the best I could to put you straight when she asked. - Yes, I reckon she did ask.” - </p> - <p> - I was looking at him with such rapturous expression that his face cleared - of uncertainty regarding my feelings. - </p> - <p> - “Sure, she must have asked, for I wouldn’t go to blart-ing that around, - making the rest of us out as pirates, unless she had pinned me down. I - reckon she did just that! Pinned me down. But I was glad to help you out - that much!” - </p> - <p> - It came to me with a rush of sentiment that all I had done that day for - the Sortwell boys had been fully paid for long in advance, and I was sorry - because a whole lot of my actions had really been dictated by my - selfishness and my desire to show off. - </p> - <p> - I reached across the table and took his hand. - </p> - <p> - “Ardon, I’m going to own up that I have had a lot of bitter thoughts about - the folks in Levant since I left home. But if I had known that I had only - one friend there like you have been in this matter, I would have put all - the bad things out of my mind.” - </p> - <p> - “I only told the truth, Ross.” - </p> - <p> - “But that’s the hardest job a man undertakes to do in a lot of cases.” I - was thinking just then how hard <i>I</i> would find it to own up about - myself, and how I had secured that money from the clutches of the rogues - in Dawlin’s joint. And there I was, making a lot of capital out of that - deceit! - </p> - <p> - But after what I had just heard I was resolved to go ahead and make more - capital out of my pretensions to greatness. - </p> - <p> - “You’re going to let us say that you have made good, aren’t you?” asked - Dave. - </p> - <p> - “I’d like to get back into the good opinion of the old town, boys. If you - feel like saying something nice about me when you get back to Levant, I’ll - be grateful.” - </p> - <p> - “Say, if we don’t blow your horn!” they cried in concert. - </p> - <p> - “But not too loud, boys! I don’t want to have too big a reputation to live - up to when I come back home.” - </p> - <p> - They stood up and clapped me on the back. - </p> - <p> - “By gorry! you will come, won’t you, and show ’em?” pleaded Dave. - “Come and show ’em!” - </p> - <p> - “But there’s one thing to be thought of first,” I said, with a grin. “Has - my uncle Deck stopped threatening to kill me on sight?” - </p> - <p> - That stirred their memories and fetched a laugh. - </p> - <p> - “He wouldn’t dare to give you as much as one yip if you walked up to him - looking like you do now,” said Dave. - </p> - <p> - The thought which he suggested was comforting; so much in this world does - depend on outside appearances. The hankering in me to go back was whetted; - just to make a show in the face and eyes of Levant, to stop their tongues - for good and all! But I was conscious that deep under those cheaper - motives was something more compelling. I had felt the thrust of it after - Ardon Sortwell had told me of his confession to Celene. She, at least, - knew that I had not been a renegade, and she had taken enough interest in - me to make sure on that point. - </p> - <p> - “When are you coming back, Ross?” demanded Dave. - </p> - <p> - “Don’t tell anybody I am coming back, boys. Promise me that.” - </p> - <p> - They did. - </p> - <p> - “But you may say that you saw me in the city, and that I am doing well, - and sent my best regards to all my friends.” - </p> - <p> - “We’ll make their cussed old ears sing,” declared Ardon. “Don’t you worry - about us!” - </p> - <p> - “If I can arrange my business so as to leave it, I may run up later.” - </p> - <p> - I showed them some of the city sights that afternoon and they started for - home that night—and I saw to it that they were safely aboard their - train. - </p> - <p> - That I should dream of Levant that night was entirely natural. They were - enticing dreams and they made me homesick and I found out that I was not - such a bold man, after all, in spite of the shell I had grown; I felt very - much like a boy when I woke next morning. I was hungry for my own folks. - </p> - <p> - In my haste to be gone I forgot all my caution. I went down to the - water-front just as if there were no such person as a vengeful Anson C. - Doughty. - </p> - <p> - I had cached, temporarily, my diving equipment. I went to the storage-man - and arranged for its care, paying in advance. - </p> - <p> - Then I was bold enough to go hunting up Jodrey Vose because I wanted to - carry some fresh and direct message to his brother in order to secure - continued favor in the case of the tavern-keeper; he certainly had been my - best friend in Levant. I intended to lodge with him and I dreaded his keen - questioning in case I went to him with lies about when I had seen his - brother last. - </p> - <p> - I found the captain on his lighter and we had a good talk during his - rest-spell. - </p> - <p> - “I’m sorry it has turned out for you as it has, young Sidney. But it’s a - good idea for you to run up to the old town and hang round with Dod for a - while and sort of get your feet placed all over again. Maybe something - will turn up down this way later!” - </p> - <p> - “Anson C. Doughty’s toes, perhaps.” - </p> - <p> - He wagged his head, soberly. - </p> - <p> - “I’m glad you came down to take leave, son, but you’re running chances. - Anson C. Doughty is mighty ugly. He was beaten up in front of his crew—and - folks haven’t got done talking and he knows they are talking. You’d better - be hipering, I reckon.” - </p> - <p> - He sent one of the helpers to his cabin for a parcel and he put it into my - hands. - </p> - <p> - “It’ll be handier than sending it by express to Dod,” he said. “It’s a - skull I found in the dock. Tell him to make up a pirate yarn to go with - it.” - </p> - <p> - Being thus equipped with full credentials as to my continued comfortable - standing with Jodrey Vose, for the purposes of my further intimacy with - Dodovah Vose, I started up the wharf in excellent spirits, my thoughts on - my home-going. - </p> - <p> - And half-way to the street I fairly bumped into Anson C. Doughty. It was - no coincidence—I ought to have reckoned on that meeting—the - manager was regularly up and down the wharf at all hours of the day. But, - as I have said, I had lost my caution. I had met him once face to face, - and had not been recognized. But I was no longer wearing that mustache. - </p> - <p> - He swore a blue streak and danced back and forth in front of me, waving - his hairy hands to shoo me back. He looked just as much like a cockroach - as ever. - </p> - <p> - “You belong in State prison and you’re going there,” he snarled. - </p> - <p> - There were two wharf loafers near by, the only men in sight. He called to - them, and they came to us, a couple of husky stevedores. - </p> - <p> - “You know <i>me!</i>” shouted Doughty. “You two men hold this sucker till - I can fetch a cop. Hold him! Don’t let him get away!” - </p> - <p> - He ran off toward the street. - </p> - <p> - I had not a chance to get away from those big chaps on that narrow wharf—and - it was plain that they knew Anson C. Doughty and recognized his authority - in those quarters. - </p> - <p> - So here were all my fresh plans, my hankering for home, my new-laid - reputation for Levant consumption about to be kicked into the black depths - of tophet by the grudge of Anson C. Doughty! - </p> - <p> - I could see that the stevedores despised my size because I was wearing a - plug-hat; they glowered at me with the natural enmity the man in overalls - feels for the dandy. It was perfectly damnable—that situation! To be - arrested—to be shown up for what I was—the thought screwed my - desperation to the breaking-point. - </p> - <p> - I pulled my wallet and began to flick out bills. - </p> - <p> - “He’s only trying to get back at me on account of a grudge, fellows; he’s - using you for tongs,” I told them. “I was one of the divers and I batted - him when he insulted me! I want to get out of town! Here’s a piece of - money! He won’t give you anything.” - </p> - <p> - I had the skull under my arm and my wallet in my hands, and I wasn’t - paying much attention to the men while I counted out money. - </p> - <p> - “Who was the gink who told us to hold the guy?” muttered one of the men. - “Was it Doughty?” - </p> - <p> - “Sure! You know him,” said his companion. - </p> - <p> - “But he don’t know <i>us!</i>” - </p> - <p> - “He won’t remember who you are!” I hastened to put in. “Take some money, - and—” - </p> - <p> - “You bet we’ll take some money,” barked the two of them in chorus, and the - next instant one of them clutched me and the other grabbed wallet, money - and all, and they ran away, ducked into an alley between storehouses, and - disappeared. - </p> - <p> - I was free at a high price. - </p> - <p> - I ran after them, of course, but they were nowhere in sight when I reached - the parallel wharf, and so I started for the street; and Anson C. Doughty - saw me, for he was running up and down the sidewalk, wildly hunting for a - policeman. When he undertook to head me off I pitched the wrapped skull at - him with all my might; it plunked him squarely in the face and dropped - him, and then went bounding along the pavement at a lively clip. I was - conscious that a lot of people were looking on and that a hullabaloo was - started. But in spite of that I stopped to pick up the skull before I fled - from the place. I reckon I must have felt considerable of a sense of - responsibility where the interests of my friends, the Voses, were - concerned! - </p> - <p> - I got through a short street on the jump, caught a passing car and when I - was once aboard I was lost to pursuers—I was merely one of the - city’s mass, and my garments testified for me. - </p> - <p> - I dug down into my pockets and found a few crumpled bills and some silver—the - loose money I carried outside my wallet. The whole of it amounted to - mighty little—only about enough to take me to Levant, as I - remembered what the train fare had been. - </p> - <p> - I did not stop to figure on any further resources; I did not dare to go - and seek aid from any of my acquaintances; I did not go back to my room - for any of my belongings. Panic was on me. To be caught at that time meant - the toppling of my cardboard house of hopes and reputation. I did not know - to what extent Anson C. Doughty would throw out his drag-net—but I - was pretty sure that he would drop all his other business for a time and - attend strictly to what concerned me. He surely was the angriest man I had - seen in many a day when he went down under the impact of that package. - </p> - <p> - To get out of that city just as quickly as I could, before he could set - persons on my trail, or put spies at the city’s outlets, was the only - sensible course open to me. - </p> - <p> - So in less than half an hour I found myself on the train, homeward bound, - just as much of a fugitive <i>from</i> the city as I had been in other - days when I headed <i>toward</i> it. - </p> - <p> - I had a little spare change in my pocket and a skull under my arm. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - X—THE ART OF PUTTING ON A FRONT - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">H</span>AVING caught a - train out of the city at a fairly early hour in the forenoon, I made a - daylight ride of it to Levant, and I stepped out upon the platform at - Lower Comers just before sundown. - </p> - <p> - I remember that the red March sun was almost touching the rocky edge of - the beech ridge, and, with the bare trunks of the trees striping it, - looked like a coal fire with the stove cover off and a griddle on. In - fact, as I looked up at the sun and reflected on the general condition of - my affairs, I felt as if I were the particular live lobster destined for - the griddle in Levant. - </p> - <p> - But I walked past the platform loafers, leaving my satin-lined overcoat - open so that they might get the full effect of my frock suit. No one - seemed to recognize me; Levant Comers is all of three miles from Levant - village, and there was never much mixing between the communities when I - was a boy. I set off at a good pace to walk the three miles to Dodovah - Vose’s tavern. - </p> - <p> - Men in several teams which overtook me offered a lift, and one of them - addressed me as “Elder.” Evidently my clothes were producing an - impression! But I declined all offers. I had waved the stage-driver aside, - and now if I accepted a free ride I might have brought suspicion on my - financial ability. So I told them all politely that I needed exercise and - walked on in all my dignity—and, being encumbered by nothing except - a skull under my arm, I found my tramp pleasurable. - </p> - <p> - I went along at such a clip that I topped the long rise from the river - where the railroad winds and was able to look down on distant Levant - village before the lingering dusk had settled into night. The stripped - trees had left all the houses bare and rather bleak; there was no beauty - anywhere. The afternoon chill had hardened the road mud into iron ridges. - Being back on my native heath was not so consoling and heart-thrilling as - I had pictured. That faded, sodden, frozen landscape was depressing. I - looked like a millionaire, but I belonged on the town farm. There was one - thing to remember, however. My uncle as first selectman was also overseer - of the poor, by virtue of his office. - </p> - <p> - I wondered what he would say to me if I walked up to him and tried to - borrow money! On second thought, I knew so well what he would say that I - promptly decided that I would keep my mouth shut in regard to my finances. - </p> - <p> - I hurried on, for there was an inviting twinkle of light in the windows of - Vose’s tavern. I was carrying a rather gruesome ticket of admission, but a - message from Jodrey Vose went along with it and it would make me - especially welcome. - </p> - <p> - For some distance the highway was bordered by woods, and at last I saw a - roadside sign which gave me a bit of a thrill, for it bore the magic name - of Kingsley. - </p> - <p> - “For Sale. This Wood-lot. Apply to Z. Kingsley.” - </p> - <p> - That’s what the sign said. - </p> - <p> - Before I was fairly on my way, after stopping to read, I was able to put - eyes on Z. Kingsley, himself. He was in a carriage which was coming in my - direction and his daughter was driving a horse which was too - likely-looking to have been furnished by my uncle. - </p> - <p> - I did not reflect or consider. I had no clear notion in my mind at that - instant. I suppose I was overcome by an irresistible hankering to hear her - voice—to speak to her. - </p> - <p> - At any rate, backed by that longing or by courage or cheek or whatever - else it might be called, I stepped out into the middle of the road and put - up my hand. I reckon if Judge Kingsley had been driving he would have run - over me. His blessed daughter pulled up short. - </p> - <p> - I took off my hat and he gave me a sharp glance and recognized me. And so - did Celene, for she smiled even while she looked a bit startled. - </p> - <p> - “Drive on!” snapped her father. - </p> - <p> - “Judge Kingsley, I want to—” - </p> - <p> - He checked me with much impatience, and I was glad of it, for I was not - prepared to tell him just what I did want. I knew I wanted to rush up to - her and say a lot of things, but I was conscious that the action would not - have made much of a hit with her father. - </p> - <p> - “I have no time to waste on you, sir. I have to catch a train.” - </p> - <p> - “But the train has gone along,” I stalled. “I just came in on it.” - </p> - <p> - “I am going the other way—to the city!” He showed considerable - temper. - </p> - <p> - “We have plenty of time before the down train is due, father,” Celene told - him. He reached after the reins, but she held them away from him, showing - that she had more or less of the Kingsley obstinacy, herself. - </p> - <p> - “What do you want, sir? Quick!” - </p> - <p> - It was a rather contemptuous command, but it was showing more - consideration for a member of the Sidney family than I had dared to hope - for. If he had taken up the whip and lashed at me at first meeting I would - not have been surprised. It was evident that my personal appearance was - having weight with him. I ventured to believe that the Sortwell boys had - been advertising me in town, though they were only a few hours ahead of - me. - </p> - <p> - I rolled my eyes around, trying to think of something sensible. I saw the - sign again. - </p> - <p> - “What is your price on this wood-lot, Judge Kingsley?” - </p> - <p> - “I can’t stop to talk business, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “But I’m simply asking the price. You’re advertising it. You must have put - a price on it.” - </p> - <p> - “I’ll be back in a week or ten days. Come to me then. I’m in a hurry.” - </p> - <p> - I put on a fine air of importance. - </p> - <p> - “So am I, Judge Kingsley! So are the big interests which I represent. But - we are never in too much of a hurry to answer polite questions in - business. I say, what is your price?” - </p> - <p> - “Two thousand dollars,” he cracked out. - </p> - <p> - “How many acres?” - </p> - <p> - “Forty.” - </p> - <p> - I raised my hat and stepped to one side. - </p> - <p> - “That’s all, sir. I’ll investigate and be ready to talk with you when you - return. Good evening!” - </p> - <p> - I could see that he was taken aback a bit by my own shortness in the - matter. He sat there holding his mouth open as if he intended to say - something more, but I walked on; it came to me that perhaps he was going - to say that he wouldn’t do any business with a Sidney—and I was - avoiding all argument on that point. - </p> - <p> - Celene gave me another flicker of a smile when she started the horse. They - went on at a good clip, and the moment they were out of sight around a - bend in the road I turned back, climbed the fence, and sat down beside - some bushes. My heart was so warm within me that I was not afraid of a - chill. - </p> - <p> - I was guessing that she would not waste any time in making that trip to - the railroad station; you see, I was building high merely on the glances - she had been giving me—on the flush which was on her cheek when she - drove away. Would she hurry back to overtake me? She did. - </p> - <p> - When I saw her coming, snapping her whip to make the horse trot at a - brisker pace, I climbed back over the pitch-pole fence and leaned against - it. It was pretty dark, but she spied me and stopped the horse. - </p> - <p> - “I have done something rather foolish,” I told her, staying where I stood. - </p> - <p> - “Yes?” - </p> - <p> - “And I have found out all over again that haste makes waste. I wanted to - get a peep at that stand of timber and I went racing around in the dark—and - so I have wrenched my ankle.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I am so sorry!” - </p> - <p> - “It’s my own fault! It’s what the city does to a man! Keeps him on the - gallop! Makes him too impatient to wait for morning.” - </p> - <p> - “Can you get to the carriage?” - </p> - <p> - “But I don’t like to trouble you, Miss Kingsley! If you will send a team—” - </p> - <p> - “No, you shall ride with me! The idea of my leaving you in the woods - alone! I’ll come and help you.” - </p> - <p> - “No, I’ll manage!” - </p> - <p> - So I limped to the carriage and climbed in. She watched me anxiously and - asked after my hurt with solicitude. I was doing a pretty mean thing, I - knew, but the opportunity to be alone with Celene Kingsley that first hour - of my arrival in town was a favor to be grabbed for and hugged jealously. - She walked the horse, and I sat beside her and was so happy in that first - intimacy that I was not a bit ashamed of my deceit. - </p> - <p> - “So you are doing wonderful things in the city!” she said, after a time. I - had not spoken, for I was afraid of blurting out something foolish. - </p> - <p> - “Nothing so very grand,” I faltered. - </p> - <p> - “But Dave and Ardon Sortwell have had something to say about that since - they have been home. I am very glad for you, Mr. Sidney.” - </p> - <p> - “I’d rather please you than anybody else.” That was a mighty awkward - answer and I was just as much embarrassed as she was. - </p> - <p> - “Good news about Levant boys pleases us all up here.’ - </p> - <p> - “Sometimes I have thought they liked the bad news best—the most of - ’em. The way they drove me out and then talked behind my back was—” - </p> - <p> - “I know all the truth of it—and most of the folks do now, I think,” - she broke in. “You must put it all out of your mind. You must not come - back with resentment toward anybody. There’s too much of that in the - world. There’s too much in Levant.” - </p> - <p> - She hesitated a moment and then burst out with a tremble in her voice. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, Mr. Sidney, I am so thankful because you have come home! I do hope - you can have some influence with your uncle. I ask your forgiveness for - bringing it up so soon. But my heart is so full of it all! I hurried back, - hoping I could overtake you.” - </p> - <p> - So that was why she had hurried! - </p> - <p> - “I don’t know about having influence with my uncle,” I said, and I could - not keep all of the rasp out of my voice. Her welcome of me simply as an - uncle-tamer had pricked me in a mighty tender place. “I don’t believe he - is going to give me either three cheers or a hug and kiss when he sees - me.” - </p> - <p> - “But you are an important man, now, and he must be proud of you and your - success. He will look up to you now that you have money and position.” - </p> - <p> - Like a bang on the head the conviction struck me that I had cut out a fine - bit of work for myself when I dropped back into my home town. - </p> - <p> - I had been all too well advertised by my loving friends. - </p> - <p> - Celene Kingsley had touched squarely on one truth: the only way to handle - my uncle was to appear important even if I were not important. Mere bluff - would go a little way—but not far. I must have money! - </p> - <p> - And here I was picked by her as her champion in the family feud! - </p> - <p> - If I had only stayed in the city! There was money to be come at there. - Dollars in Levant were nailed down with spikes. - </p> - <p> - “We haven’t one happy hour in our home,” she wailed. “Your uncle is - breaking my father’s heart, Mr. Sidney. I don’t understand what your uncle - is doing; mother doesn’t understand it! Father has never told his business - to us. But he sits in his office and figures and figures. Sometimes he - stays there ’most all night. And it’s all on account of your uncle! - I know that! For my father says your uncle is hounding him to death. You - must find out what he is doing. I know you will find out and tell him he - must stop.” - </p> - <p> - “I will look into the matter,” I said, as bravely as I could. “Of course - there’s been hard feeling between my uncle and your father for a good many - years.” - </p> - <p> - “But my father is sorry now for anything in the past. He says so to us, to - mother and me. He sent mother to your uncle to ask him if he would not - stop persecuting. Yes, she went to your uncle because father asked her to - do so.” - </p> - <p> - That statement nigh took my breath away! - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Kingsley going as suppliant to my uncle Deck? Judge Zebulon Kingsley - requesting her to do it? I shut my eyes and could picture her—frail, - pale, aristocratic. The exigency must be desperate when Judge Kingsley - would submit his wife to such employment. - </p> - <p> - “But please keep that a secret,” she pleaded. - </p> - <p> - I saw that I was headed into something which was bigger and more baleful - than I had dreamed of. And more than before did I feel my deficiencies as - a fraud who could not even turn a trick for his own wants, let alone those - greater affairs in Levant. - </p> - <p> - “This mystery in our home is killing us all,” she went on. “There have - been strangers in town and they have been much with my father. I do not - like their looks. He would not tell us, but I am afraid they have coaxed - him away to the city on this trip he is making. Perhaps your uncle has set - those men on to harm him.” - </p> - <p> - I had never gauged my uncle Deck as a hirer of assassins, but I had not - seen him for some years, and I admitted to myself that there was never any - telling where a man’s grudge would lead him. - </p> - <p> - “Mother and I tried to make him stay at home. But he would not stay and he - would not tell us why he was going to the city. Oh, how I hate those - strangers, for I believe they have coaxed him away.” - </p> - <p> - I looked sideways at her, and a little shiver tingled in me. There was - real venom in her tone and I saw that I had not guessed the depths in Miss - Celene Kingsley. - </p> - <p> - “I wish I had a brother,” she mourned. “I believe he would feel as I feel - now, and would follow up and kill the man who would harm my father.” - </p> - <p> - It was so strange an utterance from a girl and seemed so contrary to what - I had supposed her nature to be that I remembered that outburst for a long - time. - </p> - <p> - I juggled the skull on my knee and pondered awhile before I said anything, - and she was silent, too, evidently trying to get control of her emotions. - </p> - <p> - “I want to say this to you, Miss Kingsley. The Sort-well boys gave me some - news of the home town and they told me that my uncle was after your father - in bitter fashion. That’s one reason why I have hurried up here. I don’t - know just what I can do with my uncle, but I’ll truly do my best.” - </p> - <p> - We had come into the edge of the village and had passed the first houses. - </p> - <p> - “I put my trust in you,” she said, gently. “I always knew you had good - impulses in you. I remember our talk that day on Purgatory Hill. And I - know you kept your promise you gave to me then. You did your best to make - the boys good.” - </p> - <p> - “And I’ll do my best to make my uncle good.” - </p> - <p> - “I do hope your business will not call you away until you have - straightened matters out. Oh, you asked about the price of the wood-lot! - Does it mean that you expect to have some business with father?” - </p> - <p> - I had not given another thought to the wood-lot since I had used it for an - excuse in an emergency. I did not see at that moment how I could use a - wood-lot for anything else than that excuse. - </p> - <p> - “If only you could have some business with my father—it would smooth - things so much for all of us, perhaps,” she pleaded. - </p> - <p> - “We’ll see what can be done,” I assured her. “This syndicate—this - combination—a very large concern,” I floundered on, trying to think - up some sort of a plausible lie to account for my interest in a wood-lot, - “it’s—er—ah!—you see, I can’t give out much information - locally because we do so many kinds of business—it’s all linked up—it’s - necessary to move carefully, but I think I’ll tell you this much, - confidentially, just between ourselves!” Again my hankering to have some - sort of a secret between Celene Kingsley and myself! “One branch of our - business is building all the tall brick chimneys in the eastern part of - the country. We use millions of bricks and so we need a great deal of wood - for burning the bricks. So that’s why, maybe, I can pay your father’s - price for the wood-lot. Now you understand!” I ended up with a lot of - relief, for I had to dive pretty deep for that lie. - </p> - <p> - “I do see, and I’m glad there’s a prospect you’ll stay in town. And then, - too, there’s your ankle to nurse!” - </p> - <p> - I was glad she mentioned the ankle, for I had forgotten all about it, and - would certainly have betrayed myself when I jumped out of the carriage at - the tavern. Really, to be a good liar a fellow should take one of those - courses in memory-training! As it was, I descended carefully and promised - her to apply cloths and liniment that night. She tendered her little hand, - and I pressed it, and she left with me the memory of a smile which was - like a rose gemmed with dew—-for there were tears in her eyes. - </p> - <p> - I waited in the tavern yard till she was well on her way, and then I - marched in without any limp, for I was not minded to keep up that special - lie for the benefit of all Levant. - </p> - <p> - Dodovah Vose walked behind his catty-cornered counter, plucked a rusty pen - from its potato scabbard, whirled the register around under my nose, and - tendered the pen. - </p> - <p> - “Rather nippy evenings, though pleasant enough daytimes for this time of - year, Squire,” he said, by way of welcome to the arriving guest. - </p> - <p> - That tickled me. He didn’t recognize me. He was looking at my rig rather - than at my face. When I had splashed my name on the page he pulled his - spectacles to the end of his nose and inspected the signature. Then he - snapped upright and stared at me. - </p> - <p> - “Godfrey domino Peter!” he bawled. “Then them Sortwell boys ain’t such - condemned liars as I suspected they were! When Jod wrote me that you had - quit diving I reckoned you had gone plunk square to tophet!” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, there’s always a chance for a fellow in the city, if he keeps - hustling,” I told him. I chinked the little handful of small change in my - pocket. “I’m going to stay here with you for a spell, Mr. Vose. Have you a - rule that guests without baggage must pay in advance?” I grinned and he - took it as a great joke. - </p> - <p> - “If you can tell me enough about Jod I may adopt you and give you free - board the rest of your life,” he chuckled. - </p> - <p> - Then I handed over his present with a word of explanation, and he - unwrapped the grisly object and surveyed it with as much satisfaction as - if it had been a golden nugget. - </p> - <p> - “Jod always knows what will hit me to a T. Of course, he says to you, - ‘Tell Dod to make up a story to go with it’!” - </p> - <p> - “Exactly what he said, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “Sure! That’s what I have done with every curio he has given me.” - </p> - <p> - For the first time I realized that in my boyhood I had accumulated a fine - line of fiction from Dodovah Vose. - </p> - <p> - But I forgave him in my thoughts, for he took me into the big kitchen and - fried me the finest chicken I ever ate. And while he fixed up my supper I - told him how I had learned diving with his brother. I comforted him, too, - by telling him that I had given up the work only temporarily. - </p> - <p> - But I switched him when he tried to find out what I was up to at that - time. The plug-hat part of my program seemed to puzzle him very much. I - was not ready with any good explanation. I figured that I might have some - kind of a story ready in the morning, after I had slept on the thing. I - began to rely considerably on my work as a fabricator; I had shown quite a - lot of aptitude and readiness on short notice, I reflected. - </p> - <p> - I found myself holding an impromptu reception in the tavern office that - evening—and they were all there with their little gimlets of - questions, boring for information, you can bet! Therefore I broke away - early and went to bed. I staved them all off in good shape, for I could be - dignified in those clothes I was wearing. What I was afraid of was that - Uncle Deck would pop in. He would not have used any gimlet; he would have - set upon me with a pod-auger of inquisition, and would have ridden on it - so as to bear down hard! And I had not my story ready! - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - XI—THE FAILURE OF AN UNCLE-TAMER - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">F</span>URTHERMORE, in the - morning I was just as much at sea. I had gone to sleep as suddenly as if - somebody had hit me a tunk on the head; too much fried chicken and hashed - brown potato! I did not wake up till Dodo-vah Vose marched through the - tavern halls, playing the long roll on his gong. The March sun, level with - the eastern windows, quivered with glorious light when I opened my eyes on - it. I had all sorts of reasons to be downcast, but I was not when I waked - and saw that sun. - </p> - <p> - Scattered coins, my whole capital, lay on the carpet of braided rags, - where they had slipped from my trousers pocket the night before when I - hung the garment over a chair. I gazed over the billowing edge of the - feather tick in which I was nested, and counted, for the sun lighted the - floor and glinted on the coins. One dollar and thirty-seven cents! - </p> - <p> - However, in spite of that spectacle, I hopped out of bed and dressed, - whistling snatches of tupes furnished by music-hall memories. I was home - again, Celene Kingsley had given me glances which my hopes translated into - all sorts of dear promises—she had asked me to help her; the sun was - shining, breakfast was ready! I went down-stairs whistling. - </p> - <p> - “Head up and tail over the dasher, hey?” was the greeting from Landlord - Vose. - </p> - <p> - “It’s a great world to live in,” I told him. After I had tucked away a - slice of home-smoked fried ham only a little smaller than a door-mat, - along with eggs and the fixings, I felt even more resolute about fronting - what was coming to me. - </p> - <p> - My spirit of boldness was even a bit hysterical, I guess. I rubbed the nap - of my plug-hat smooth with my forearm, pulled on my overcoat, and went out - and stood on the tavern porch, inhaling the tingling air of the morning, - exhibiting myself to Levant like a gladiator stepping into the arena, - announcing by pose and expression: “Here I am. Now come on!” - </p> - <p> - And the first to answer my challenge was my uncle Deck. I think he had - been waiting for me to appear. He walked across the village square, coming - from the town office, and I hailed him from afar with a flourish of the - hand and a “Good morning!” - </p> - <p> - Ten feet away he stopped and looked me over. “Why didn’t you come home - last night, where you belong, instead of putting up at the tavern and - letting me hear about it by word of mouth?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, Uncle Deck,” I drawled, “you remember—” - </p> - <p> - “Look here,” he yapped, “as I stand here I don’t know whether to cuff your - young chops or shake your hand. A good deal depends on you. If you go to - digging up past foolishness I’ll cuff you. As it is”—he stepped - forward, hand outstretched—“as it is, son, I’m glad to see you back, - and I hear that you have made something of yourself. I’m glad of that, - too! Now get your volucus, or whatever your baggage is, and come to the - house.” - </p> - <p> - “I’ll tell you, Uncle Deck,” I explained, dropping his hand after a hearty - shake; “I’m here on business this trip, not to go visiting.” - </p> - <p> - “What difference does that make about coming to my house, where you - belong?” he demanded. - </p> - <p> - He had me there—backed into a corner! He had his pod-auger out, - ready to use on me, just as I had apprehended—and so help me! I was - not ready with a story. - </p> - <p> - “What is your business?” - </p> - <p> - Dignified reserve and a plug-hat would not serve to trig my uncle Deck! - </p> - <p> - It was necessary for me to dedare then and there what my business in - Levant was. I had been clutching wildly into a lot of nebulous thoughts - ever since waking, trying to get hold of something solid. - </p> - <p> - And I found out then, as I had experienced before, and discovered on many - occasions later, that there was in me something which enabled me to leap - an emergency barrier when the goad was sharp enough and the danger near. - </p> - <p> - “I’ve got to have dealings with a lot of men and I’d be a nuisance around - your premises, Uncle Deck.” - </p> - <p> - “What dealings? No secret, is it?” - </p> - <p> - “Certainly not! I’m buying for a big syndicate. Buying standing timber.” I - said that because I had already committed myself with Celene Kingsley and - it came to me that I’d better have one story and stick to it. - </p> - <p> - “All right! Buy some of mine.” - </p> - <p> - “But as I remember it, it’s mostly black growth—pine and spruce.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, and cedar, fir, and hemlock! What in thunder does anybody want of - any other kind of timber?” - </p> - <p> - “I can’t use it. I’m buying for a special purpose.” - </p> - <p> - I felt like a man trying to get across a brook without wetting his feet. - Every time I leaped I was mighty glad and rather surprised to find another - stepping-stone to land on. - </p> - <p> - “Then you must be looking for hardwood?” - </p> - <p> - “That’s it.” - </p> - <p> - “What are you going to do with it?” - </p> - <p> - “Burn bricks for our factory chimneys.” - </p> - <p> - He did not look more than half convinced. - </p> - <p> - “I can’t go into details even with you, Uncle Deck,” I told him. “I’m - ordered to buy close, and when names of big concerns are given out the - sellers always raise prices.” - </p> - <p> - “There’s only one big stand of hardwood in this town,” he said, “and I’ll - see you in damnation before I’ll let you buy that!” - </p> - <p> - “Why?” - </p> - <p> - The red patches beside his nose began to flame. “Don’t come back at <i>me</i> - with your ‘whys’! I’ll tell you why you can’t buy! It’s because you’ll be - handing over money to that”—(I never heard coarser oaths; my uncle - fairly choked on them)—“to Zebulon Kingsley.” - </p> - <p> - “I know the lot belongs to Judge Kingsley. I saw the sign on the fence and - I happened to meet the judge right there and had some talk with him.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you mean to tell me that you have been dickering with that—” - </p> - <p> - I broke in on his list of names. “My concern has ordered me to buy - hardwood and I’m buying. I have no quarrel with Judge Kingsley.” - </p> - <p> - “By the Great Jedux, you <i>have!</i> Don’t you dare to tell me you have - forgotten! You <i>have</i> got a quarrel with him. D——n you, - look out that you don’t start one with <i>me!</i>” - </p> - <p> - “I have come in here to mind my own business—” - </p> - <p> - “Condemn your ha’slet!” he cried. “No wonder you didn’t dare to come to my - house last night! No wonder you’re fighting shy of me to-day!” - </p> - <p> - In spite of his anger, I felt a sudden sense of relief. I did not need to - waste effort and time on minor falsehoods, trying to explain why I did not - come to his house; I could devote all my attention to my main lie. - </p> - <p> - “I’m not fighting shy of you, Uncle Deck. I’m a business man, and—” - </p> - <p> - He turned sideways to me and switched his arm furiously, as if he held a - goad and was trying to start a balky steer. - </p> - <p> - “You come along over to my office,” he commanded with a grate in his - tones. “This isn’t a matter to blart about on a street corner.” - </p> - <p> - I followed him. He locked the door behind us. - </p> - <p> - “You know that I have been elected first selectman of this town?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, Uncle Deck. I’m glad the citizens—” - </p> - <p> - “Yah, for the citizens! First and last, it has cost me five thousand - dollars to get this office. And it’s for their own good I worked to get it—and - they thought it was only to satisfy my grudge. That’s all the credit a man - gets from the fools who vote. But I’m in this office now—I’m headed - straight for my mark—and the man who gets in my way will be bored - like a cheese target! Do you hear that?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “They know enough in this town to keep out of my way! I have trained ’em. - You don’t dare to come back here, do you—my own nephew—and get - in my way?” - </p> - <p> - “I’m only attending to my business.” - </p> - <p> - “Meaning by that you’re thinking of buying a wood-lot from Zebulon - Kingsley?” - </p> - <p> - Secretly I was sort of laughing at myself. Here I was, inviting a lot of - trouble by insisting on doing something which was a positive - impossibility, so it seemed then as I jingled my coins in my pocket. - </p> - <p> - “I have my business the same as you have yours, sir. I didn’t know—” - </p> - <p> - “You did know!” he shouted. “And if you are such a renegade as to forget - what has been done to your family by that skunk, you know <i>now</i>—for - I’m telling you! You can’t do business with Zebulon Kingsley. I say it!” - He pounded his fist on his breast. - </p> - <p> - I kept still. I was trying to work out in my mind some sensible idea as to - what I really did intend to do in the matter of that wood-lot. - </p> - <p> - My uncle leaned toward me over the table in the town office, propping - himself on one fist and pounding softly and slowly with the other. His - lips were rolled back and he growled his words deep down in his throat, - almost in a whisper. - </p> - <p> - “I know what he is, now. I’ve got the stuff on him. I’ve had to work slow. - I’ve had to convince two devilish steers on the board of selectmen without - telling ’em what I’m after. But I’ve got ’em. And he is - headed for hell and I’m after him. And he knows it now and that’s the best - of it! Because I’m taking my time while he is thinking it over! Oh, my - gad! if only your father could have lived till now to see how the devilish - old gouger and robber is getting his! And he is paying for your mother’s - tears and sweat with drops of his blood. And he is paying me, too. I stay - up nights to see that lamp in his office window. And you say, do you, that - you have come here to hand over money to Zebulon Kingsley? To the man who - filed your father’s heart in two with a mortgage?” - </p> - <p> - “It’s only in the way of ordinary trade,” I ventured. I was wondering why - I was continuing to provoke my uncle. But I knew I needed to start - considerable of a smoke to screen my real condition from him. - </p> - <p> - “There is to be no trade between you,” raged my uncle. “No money from you - shall touch that scoundrel’s hands!” Just at that moment I was more sure - of that than he was. - </p> - <p> - My uncle gave me a little opportunity to do some thinking, for he went to - the office safe and pulled out a bottle and drank. - </p> - <p> - I wondered what kind of a hold he had on Judge Kingsley. My curiosity was - aflame. It was not believable that he could ruin the judge financially, - for the Kingsleys had possessed wealth for many generations. Celene - Kingsley, as the petted daughter of our village aristocrat, was too far - above me for any hopes to bear fruit, even though they budded. But what - would the Kingsleys be after my uncle had worked out his revenge, of whose - success he seemed to be so sure? - </p> - <p> - “I know there has been trouble between the families, Uncle Deck,” I said. - “I know we were not used right in money matters. But what is it you’re - going to do to Judge Kingsley? What is your grip on him?” - </p> - <p> - He wiped his mouth with the palm of his hand and set back the bottle. - “None of your d———d business!” - </p> - <p> - “I don’t like to go into anything blindfolded. I have business to - consider, and I’ll have to make explanations. - </p> - <p> - “You’ll get off better by making ’em to the men who have hired you - than by explaining to me, if you don’t do what I tell you to do.” - </p> - <p> - “But I’m no kid any longer. I’m running my own affairs, sir. If you can’t - let me in on the plans of this thing—” - </p> - <p> - He advanced on me, waggling his fist. “You’re a devil of a fellow to come - and pump me for secrets, you are! What do you want to do—run to him - again like you did in the case of that hoss trade? Do you think I have - forgotten that?” - </p> - <p> - “No, and I know you never will, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “And so I say now, ask no questions and do as I tell you.” - </p> - <p> - I edged toward the door, for I was pretty well mixed up in my own thoughts - and did not care to get into any more of a row with my uncle—and all - needlessly. - </p> - <p> - “Are you giving me your word?” he demanded. - </p> - <p> - “I’m not promising anything until I can think it over and decide on what’s - best to be done, Uncle Deck.” - </p> - <p> - “You’ll decide now before you leave this office.” - </p> - <p> - He started toward me, but the key was in the door, and I turned it and - stood ready to leave. - </p> - <p> - “You have come back here to fight me, have you? A Sidney fighting his own - and nearest blood kin, eh?” He came close and made threatening gestures. I - put my arm across his breast and slowly pushed him back; I gave him good - opportunity to note that the arm was a sizable one and mighty hard. - </p> - <p> - “You plug-hatted dude!” he frothed. “Forgetting the duty you owe to your - own because you have had a whirl in the city!” - </p> - <p> - “I am no dude, Uncle Deck, and calling me names and treating me like a - brat, as you used to do, isn’t going to get you anything!” - </p> - <p> - “You are not standing with your own family.” - </p> - <p> - “I can be loyal to my family, but I’m not going to-shut my eyes and jump - into a row just because you tell me it’s your row.” - </p> - <p> - I saw that I had produced an impression and he calmed down a bit. - </p> - <p> - “There may be a good deal you can do to help me in the thing,” he said. - “But, blast it! after what you once did to me, I ain’t sure I can trust - you!” He squinted his eyes and sized me up shrewdly. “You’re a Sidney, and - the old rat did dirt to you before you left this town. If you ain’t - willing to rise up now and swoop on him, there’s a reason. You ain’t stuck - on that girl of his, are you?” - </p> - <p> - The blood surged into my face. I couldn’t help it. I was thinking hard - about her all through that talk. That was the last thing I would have - looked for from my uncle. He had jumped me in fine shape, and he saw it. - </p> - <p> - “Yah-h-h!” he snarled. “You fool! You devilish fool! It had to be a girl - to keep you from doing your plain duty—and I knew it. Nothing but a - girl would be putting a twist-bit into your mouth right now!” - </p> - <p> - “You’re wrong! You’re all wrong!” I protested, but I didn’t sound real - convincing. - </p> - <p> - Nor did he, either, when he started to give me hints about her. His eyes - shifted and he stammered. I took him by the arm with a good, hearty clutch - and he shut up. - </p> - <p> - There did not seem to be anything more to say just then, on the part of - either of us; plainly, we had squared off at each other! - </p> - <p> - So I walked out. - </p> - <p> - I was glad because my first session with my uncle was over. But while I - felt relief I knew I had pretty well done for myself where he was - concerned. Of course, I had not intended to confess to him my financial - condition, but deep down I had felt until then that if worse came to the - worst he would see me out of a hole. He would have done something, at - least, for my father’s sake. But I had been the one to deal family loyalty - the first kick. Now my uncle would see me starve and enjoy my sufferings; - his grudges followed just such grooves. - </p> - <p> - Whatever else was ahead, it was pretty much up to me! - </p> - <p> - I went back to the tavern, for it was some comfort just to look on Dodovah - Vose’s kindly face. - </p> - <p> - “Let’s see! You’ve been dropping a word or two about doing business here,” - he prodded in friendly fashion. “Hope so. It’s quiet in town. We’re all - climbing ‘March Hill,’ you know—dull time in the country.” - </p> - <p> - “I’m here to start something, sir.” I was telling him the truth then. I - had just started something over in the town office. I sat down and picked - up a newspaper from the table and began to show great interest in reading - so that I would not be obliged to talk. I was afraid he would get me - cornered. I hung onto that paper as if it were a life-buoy—I read it - from title to last line, advertisements and all. It was the <i>Mechanicsville - Herald</i>, printed in a manufacturing city about thirty miles from - Levant, and because I did not miss anything which was printed in it I - noted that two concerns wanted cord-wood—and I had just mentioned - the matter of cord-wood to my uncle. At all events, I was traveling on a - singletrack lie in old Levant! - </p> - <p> - I laid down that paper and did some mighty lively thinking. Then, to - reassure myself, I gave my silk hat the least bit of a cock and marched to - Judge Kingsley’s mansion. - </p> - <p> - Celene herself opened the door so promptly after my ring that I had a cozy - little suspicion that she had seen me coming and had hurried to meet me. - She was very pretty in her morning gown. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, your ankle is so much better, isn’t it?” she cried. “I watched you - coming across the square.” - </p> - <p> - She stepped back, inviting me to enter by her manner, and I walked in. - </p> - <p> - “I knew just what to do for it. It’s pretty nigh all right.” - </p> - <p> - She led me to the sitting-room, and her mother rose and met me; Mrs. - Kingsley was distantly polite, that was all. I was glad even for that much - in the case of a Sidney, for I knew that Judge Kingsley’s obedient wife - was as careful in matching her opinions to his as she was in matching - colors at the store. - </p> - <p> - “I ask to be excused for calling so early in the day,” I said, with my hat - in the hook of my arm, and putting on my best manners. “But this is a - business call and I’m in somewhat of a hurry. You heard me speak to your - father, Miss Kingsley, about the wood-lot. Now—” - </p> - <p> - “I never presume to interfere in my husband’s business matters,” said Mrs. - Kingsley, looking half scared. “I know nothing whatever about his - business.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I am not asking you to do so—certainly not,” I hurried to tell - her. “I shall do all my business directly with him. But to do so I need - his address in the city. I have come to ask you for it. I suppose he left - it.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh yes—so that I may send his mail.” She looked relieved and gave - me the name of a hotel. - </p> - <p> - I had not presumed to sit down, though I was sure that Celene’s eyes had - asked me. I bowed and backed toward the door. - </p> - <p> - “I thank you. That’s all I wanted. I am sorry I was obliged to intrude.” I - felt that I was certainly doing that little thing well. “I may be obliged - to call again, if you will allow me.” - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Kingsley hesitated. - </p> - <p> - “Of course you may call,” blurted Celene. - </p> - <p> - “I may have to consult with you in a matter similar to this errand - to-day,” I explained. “I’m sorry the judge is not here; in that case I - would not be bothering you.” - </p> - <p> - “I tried to prevail on my husband to stay at home—he is not at all - well—there are so many matters which need his attention here,” - complained Mrs. Kingsley. “If we can help you with any information we’ll - be glad to doit.” - </p> - <p> - I went away on that, and I guess I left a good impression that I was - strictly business! - </p> - <p> - Feeling sure that the two of them were watching me, I put a lot of - business snap into my gait when I returned to the tavern. - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Vose,” I asked, briskly, “how many hitches have you in your - livery-stable?” - </p> - <p> - “Eight,” he said, “if I include two road-carts.” - </p> - <p> - “The road-carts are all right, too. I want to use all of ’em, if - you can furnish drivers.” - </p> - <p> - “It’s easy enough to find men in these slack times.” - </p> - <p> - “And probably farmers and day’s-work men in the back districts of the town - would like a job.” - </p> - <p> - “You can bet on it!” - </p> - <p> - “Start eight men going, then, as soon as you can get the horses hitched - in. Have the messengers pass the word that I can use two hundred husky - men. Each man to report here in the tavern yard to-morrow morning at - six-thirty with a sharp ax on his shoulder.” - </p> - <p> - “And what else—tell ’em what else?” - </p> - <p> - “Nothing.” - </p> - <p> - “But about wages—and what they’re to do?” - </p> - <p> - “Tell ’em nothing. They’ll come running in here to find out what - it’s all about, Mr. Vose. Don’t even tell ’em who wants ’em. - You and I both know how curiosity itches in this town till it has been - properly scratched.” - </p> - <p> - “Guess you’re right,” agreed the landlord. “If you set out to hire ’em - regular style they’d want to hem and haw and haggle about so long and so - much!” - </p> - <p> - “If you want a deposit for—” I suggested, reaching toward a breast - pocket which was empty. - </p> - <p> - “Godfrey domino, no!” he protested, flapping his hands. “If you have had - to handle business in those suspicious ways down in the city I’m sorry for - you. Now forget money talk between us till it’s time to talk.” - </p> - <p> - I was glad to do that, and I hoped that his ideas of time were liberal. - </p> - <p> - I borrowed some blank paper and went up to my room and figured for many - hours, stopping only to eat a good dinner—a boiled dinner in Vose’s - best style. My plate was piled high twice with corned beef fringed with - golden fat, succulent disks of yellow carrots, wine-red beets, snowy white - spuds, and odorous turnips. No man could possibly be a pessimist with that - dinner under his belt! I had every reason to be the most apprehensive man - in Avon County, but I had set my face to the front and I had just - naturally made up my mind that I was going to pay for that dinner and for - the other things which I had been recklessly ordering. I proposed to put - myself into a position where I would be compelled to use every bit of my - capital of cheek. The sweat stood, out on my forehead, but it wasn’t the - kind of moisture which could soften my grit. - </p> - <p> - In the afternoon, every time a steaming horse came homing back to Vose’s - stable, I felt a funny quiver inside me. - </p> - <p> - “I reckon you have got a good line on human nature, young Sidney,” stated - the landlord, when I went down to the foreroom before supper. “From what - the men say this rushing around back district’s with teams has got the - boys all heifered up. Even if they don’t come in to go to work, they’ll be - here to see what in tunket the hoorah’s about.” - </p> - <p> - “I have heard my father say that this town was always ready to turn out to - a bee,” I told him. When I said it another thought came to cheer me—I - had noticed that when a lot of men were set at work together on one job - the natural spirit of rivalry put pep into the bunch. - </p> - <p> - When Dodovah Vose went to his kitchen to give an eye to supper, I plucked - a telegraph blank from his office desk. I nerved myself to try on my most - audacious trick of all. I wrote this: - </p> - <p> - <i>To Ross Sidney, Levant.—Offer accepted. Go ahead with work. Will - settle with you on my return.</i> - </p> - <p> - <i>Z. Kingsley.</i> - </p> - <p> - I set my jaws and told myself that the message wasn’t all falsehood; the - last sentence was strictly true, even if Zebulon Kingsley did not pen it. - </p> - <p> - I folded the paper, stuck it in my pocket, and went again to the Kingsley - house. It was brazen business—a dangerous hazard. But I was - depending on woman’s inadequacy. I felt that I had the two of them sized - pretty well. They had never presumed to meddle in the affairs of their - master. They would not dare to question his will. I figured that sending - him a wire asking corroboration of the message to me would seem to them - like bold interference which would bring reproof from him. - </p> - <p> - I waited, respectfully standing, while they read the message, Celene - looking over her mother’s shoulder. - </p> - <p> - “It’s more about the wood-lot matter,” I explained. “I think you heard - your father make me a price on it. Miss Kingsley.” - </p> - <p> - “I remember distinctly, mother. Father said he would sell for two thousand - dollars.” - </p> - <p> - “I know it must seem rather irregular,” I said, “but in my wire I - explained that my people are in a great hurry—and I’m glad that he - has been willing to meet me half-way. It means that I am to put on a crew - at once and cut the wood—and, of course, it’s a safe proposition for - the judge,” I went on, forcing the best smile I could. “Neither the land - nor the wood can be carried away in a shawl-strap before he returns—I - think he said in a week or ten days!” - </p> - <p> - They returned my smile, and for the first time Mrs. Kingsley seemed rather - cordial. - </p> - <p> - “I’m glad you are taking it off his hands,” she declared. “It will be one - less thing for him to worry about. He has been so troubled by his - business. I’m sure that he’ll be glad to get rid of a lot more property in - the same way.” - </p> - <p> - My soul whispered its doubts! - </p> - <p> - “I hope that the matter is all clear now and that you have a good - understanding, Mrs. Kingsley. You will explain, will you, if anybody comes - to you in regard to the matter or questions my authority?” - </p> - <p> - “I will, Mr. Sidney.” - </p> - <p> - She exchanged glances with her daughter and they seemed to understand each - other quickly. While we had been talking I heard the subdued clatter of - supper preparations in another room. - </p> - <p> - “I feel sure that if my husband were here,” said Mrs. Kingsley, “he would - extend the hospitality of our house to a gentleman who was obliging him in - a business matter. Won’t you stay and take supper with us, Mr. Sidney?” - </p> - <p> - Without replying, I gave my hat into the ready hands of Celene and sat - down weakly. - </p> - <p> - I was tickled nigh foolish—I’ll admit that. But I was not wholly - taken in by that hospitality play. Mrs. Zebulon Kingsley had known too - much about me and my breed-to feel any great hankering to have me as a - guest. But I was willing to bet a big plum that she was thinking a lot - about my uncle’s hostility and about the judge’s fear of that rambunctious - town official. And I was also sure that certain matters had been talked - over between her and Celene since my arrival in town with such outward - emblems of importance and prosperity. Furthermore, had I not fairly - promised the daughter that I would do my best in the line of - uncle-busting? - </p> - <p> - So I held on to my emotions as best I could and waited for the subject to - come up. It did, of course. I had not been in the house ten minutes before - Mrs. Kingsley burst out. She was full of that topic. She saw in my uncle’s - attitude nothing but a wanton desire to make trouble for a good and great - man. - </p> - <p> - I had been thinking over the matter of that hostility since my morning’s - talk with Uncle Deck. I had been developing a sharp-ended suspicion that - my uncle had something up his sleeve with which to arm that hostility. - Judge Kingsley would never have pulled his wife into a row he was having - with Decker Sidney unless desperation had moved him. I was bitterly - ashamed and grieved when I listened to her description of that unutterable - interview. - </p> - <p> - As for her, she had no suspicions as to her husband’s integrity—I - could see that! The picture she made of the affair was of a mad dog - chasing a saint! - </p> - <p> - “But what does the man think he can do to my husband? He can do nothing. - He must realize it. What has he said to you, Mr. Sidney? I ask you, for I - am sure you do not approve, his actions.” - </p> - <p> - I looked at Celene, and answered that I certainly did not approve, nor had - I ever approved many things my uncle did. - </p> - <p> - “I will say further that I did what I could to-day to turn him from his - grudge.” - </p> - <p> - “But what does he think he can do to my husband?” she insisted. “I suppose - he told you.” - </p> - <p> - “No, he did not, madam. He said he did not trust me. He twitted me with - having betrayed him once before to the judge—about the doctored - horse,” I added, with a sickly grin. - </p> - <p> - “But, of course, you—his own nephew—you produced some effect - on him?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I made him so mad he would have struck me if he had dared. That’s - all the effect I seemed to produce.” - </p> - <p> - Tears came into her eyes. “How will it end?” she quavered. - </p> - <p> - I did not feel like bragging just then about any powers of mine in the - matter; I had plenty on my mind and conscience as it was. I was distinctly - aware of being glad I had had that boiled dinner, and plenty of it, and I - say that much with all due respect for the blessed presence of Celene at - the supper-board. For between my ever-swelling love for her, my - self-consciousness at table, my shame on account of my uncle, and my - general emotions, anyway, I could scarcely choke down a mouthful. And at - the end I was wholly and fairly rattled—that expression seems to fit - my state of mind better than anything I can think of right now. - </p> - <p> - She accompanied me to the door that evening when I departed—Mrs. - Kingsley allowed her to go alone, evidently having elevated me to the - plane of, at least, a buttonhole friend of the family after hearing of my - quarrel with my uncle. - </p> - <p> - And being rattled, and seeing the grieved anxiety in her eyes, and knowing - how much distress must be tearing at her poor heart, I gulped out that I - would put my uncle where he belonged. I was saying to myself that I would - see him in tophet before I’d allow his persecution to harm those innocent - women, and I came nigh saying that to her in my excitement. - </p> - <p> - She put out to me both of her hands, and I took them. I tossed all - prudence over the rail then. - </p> - <p> - “If there’s got to be a fight in the Sidney family, then there’ll be one! - You tell your mother to sleep easy. I’ll take this thing in hand from now - on and I won’t have your father abused by anybody.” - </p> - <p> - I was talking as big as old Lord Argyle, and I knew I was babbling like a - fool—bu t what can’t a girl’s wet eyes do to a fellow’s common, - sense? - </p> - <p> - “We trust you,” she said. “You have made me so happy!” - </p> - <p> - I bent down and kissed her dear hands, first one and then the other. When - I straightened up and saw the flush on her cheeks and the shy pleasure in - her eyes I went the limit without stopping to take thought. I put my arms - around her and kissed her on the lips—and no honest man can look me - squarely in the eye and tell me there’s any memory like the remembrance of - the first kiss from one’s own true love! For the first true love is not - merely maiden—she has elements of the goddess in her! - </p> - <p> - Therefore, having presumed so much with a goddess, I was immediately - frightened and found myself ready to struggle with apology—and - apology did not fit that occasion. So I ran away before I made more of a - fool of myself. - </p> - <p> - “Good night!” I whispered from the gate. “I love you!” - </p> - <p> - She closed the big door very softly and I gathered good omen from that. - </p> - <p> - How bright the stars were when I looked at them through my tears! A - half-century ago a Yankee poet wrote these verses when he was in love:= - </p> - <p> - ````When twilight’s sable curtain falls, - </p> - <p> - `````Then stars stand thick at even ````To act as outside sentinels - `````Around the gates of heaven. - </p> - <p> - ````That night along the shimmering slant, - </p> - <p> - `````(I tell you true, my brother) - </p> - <p> - ````The password was “Almira Grant” - </p> - <p> - `````They whispered to each other.= - </p> - <p> - I knew mighty well what was their password that March night when I walked - away from Celene. - </p> - <p> - I was not fit for any tavern society just then. Impulse seized upon me and - I went down into the orchard. True love does not forget his trails and his - caches! I found the tree with the hollow trunk and slipped my hand into - the hole; I pulled forth the little packet of three rings. I reckoned that - when I got my courage and my voice I would have a story to tell her—some - evidence of love longstanding to offer—and that I’d find those rings - pretty valuable as exhibits A, B, and C. - </p> - <p> - There were quite a number of gossiping loafers in the tavern foreroom when - I marched in at last and took my room key from its hook. - </p> - <p> - If there had been any doubt among them as to my importance in the world, - that doubt must have vanished when they looked on me that night; for if I - did not feel at that moment that the world was mine, nobody ever did! - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - XII—STARTING SOMETHING IN LEVANT - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE men were there - in the morning—a mob of them. - </p> - <p> - They came riding and they footed it into the village. The tavern office - was crowded and the yard was full. - </p> - <p> - The growing buzz of them woke me before sunup, and I wasted no time in - dressing and getting down. - </p> - <p> - It was just as I had expected—the spirit of a lark was in them. They - were not like men who had come dragging themselves to work. The men I knew—and - I knew a lot of them on account of my early goings and comings about the - countryside on my uncle’s affairs—were on my back in a moment, their - mouths full of questions. - </p> - <p> - But I was not ready to talk turkey till I had settled on one point, and I - told them to be easy for a few minutes. - </p> - <p> - I needed one man for a special purpose. I had left the selection of that - man for morning, feeling instinctively that I would do better to pick from - the crowd than to give away my plans overnight. - </p> - <p> - I saw him inside of ten seconds. It was as clear a case of the right man - for the job as if I had specified and had received the goods. - </p> - <p> - The man was Henshaw Hook, the best-known man in that section, the town - auctioneer. He had the gift of gab, the science of talking all men into - good humor, and was as alert in all his doings as a cricket on a hot - spider. - </p> - <p> - I took him by the arm and rushed him up to my room. Mr. Hook had brought - no ax to the levee; he told me, by way of explanation, that he had come - around out of curiosity. So had a lot of others, I knew well enough. - </p> - <p> - Dodovah Vose followed us, for I had summoned him by a jerk of my head. - </p> - <p> - “Now, Mr. Hook, here’s the story short and snappy,” I told him. “I - represent a big syndicate which is buying all kinds of property. I have - bought Judge Kingsley’s wood-lot for the sake of what is on it—and - it must be cleaned off in a hurry. Of course, I can’t hang around town to - attend to that part of the business. I need an able man who can attend to - it.” I pulled out my papers and inspected my figures. “Mostly we are after - hardwood—cord-wood! Do you suppose you can pull a hundred or so good - workers out of that crowd downstairs?” - </p> - <p> - “Yep!” snapped Hook. “Mebbe more.” - </p> - <p> - He was just as brisk as I was. - </p> - <p> - The newspaper had given me quotations in its market column, and I had - chopped cord-wood in my own young life. Furthermore, in my everlasting - scurryings after squirrels and birds I had made many explorations on Judge - Kingsley’s domains. I was fully prepared to talk business, therefore. - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Hook, green cord-wood is selling for five dollars a cord. It’s a poor - man with an ax who can’t chop, trim, and pile his cord a day—four-foot - length. If you can put two hundred men on that job and will abide by the - rules of my syndicate, you can turn a profit of around fifty dollars a day - for your own pocket—for I offer you five per cent, on five dollars a - cord.” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Hook promptly showed much interest. “You said rules?” - </p> - <p> - “I said rules!” - </p> - <p> - “Spill,” invited Mr. Hook. - </p> - <p> - “Get out your pencil and make notes—and I’ll ask you to do the same, - Mr. Vose, so that there’ll be no comeback!” - </p> - <p> - They obeyed promptly. - </p> - <p> - “I am to do all my business with you—you are to do all the business - with the choppers. You are the responsible party in all the details. You - are to keep the books, measuring each man’s daily cut and giving him due - credit. He is to be paid two dollars and fifty cents a cord—a weekly - bonus of twenty-five dollars to the man who comes across with the most - cords! No payment to be made for two weeks and then one week’s pay will be - held back so that the men will not quit on me.” - </p> - <p> - “Don’t know about their agreeing!” - </p> - <p> - “Then the syndicate doesn’t want them. There’s no chance for argument. - We’ll see how many volunteer when you put the matter up to ’em. I’m - going to leave the speechmaking to you!” - </p> - <p> - “I’m fairly handy with my tongue,” he said, with a grin. “So I know. And I - must be sure that <i>you</i> will not quit. That would disorganize the - whole thing. All money to the men must go through your hands. Therefore, - Mr. Hook, you must deposit with me, so as to cinch your responsibility, - the sum of five hundred dollars in cash before axes start this morning.” - </p> - <p> - That idea did not please Mr. Henshaw Hook—not for a minute! He - looked pretty blank. - </p> - <p> - “I haven’t any option in the matter,” I stated, coldly. “The syndicate - makes its rules—but you can see that’s a common-sense one. I - couldn’t be jumping around the country, leaving behind a lot of operations - running by guess and by gosh, nobody financially responsible for the - details.” - </p> - <p> - “Corporations have to have their rules, Hen,” said helpful Landlord Vose. - “We all know how young Sidney, here, has come along in the world!” - </p> - <p> - “The Sortwells have advertised that all right,” agreed Mr. Hook. - </p> - <p> - “He isn’t working for dubs, Hen!” - </p> - <p> - “Probably not! But with the judge out of town I can’t dig up more than - three hundred and fifty this morning, not even if I went and robbed my old - woman’s work-basket!” - </p> - <p> - “Needn’t worry about that,” said Dodovah Vose. “I’ve got public spirit and - I want to see business get a hump on in this town. I’ll lend you enough to - make up the five hundred.” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Hook devoted thirty seconds to meditation. “Let’s see—what did I - understand you to say your concern is?” he queried with assumed innocence. - </p> - <p> - “I did not say—we are not advertising; we are pussyfooting so that - they won’t be boosting land values on us,” I said, serenely. - </p> - <p> - “But among friends—” - </p> - <p> - “News travels faster among friends than anywhere else. Mr. Hook, I’m not - going to risk my job by shooting off my mouth. You don’t think I’ve come - back to my home town to work a flimflam trick, do you?” - </p> - <p> - “I’ll grab in on this myself rather than see the plan dumped,” stated the - landlord. - </p> - <p> - “I’ll go down and put the thing up to the boys,” offered Hook, hastily. - Fifty dollars and over a day had properly baited this Hook. - </p> - <p> - Our auctioneer was a good talker! When—as he put it to them amidst - laughter—he asked the sheep to separate from the goats, more than a - hundred and fifty men stepped to one side and waved their axes as signal - that they were ready to go to work. - </p> - <p> - Fifteen minutes later, closeted with Vose and Hook in my room, I was - counting the deposit money—a fat bundle of bills; I had made ready - for that part of the ceremony and I had an equally fat packet of blank - paper in the drawer of my little table. I had not sat at the feet of my - crook acquaintances without hearing much about the “substitution trick.” I - worked it then and there on those guileless old countrymen. - </p> - <p> - I merely yanked out a table drawer with the casual remark about an - envelope, turned my back for an instant, and then slipped into an envelope - in full view of them a financial sandwich; I had made that sandwich by - flicking two bills off the money-packet and framing the blank paper. I - licked the mucilage, sparked down the flap, and handed the packet to - Landlord Vose. I left the rest of the money in the drawer and slammed it - shut. - </p> - <p> - “I suppose you have wax and a seal down-stairs, Mr. Vose. Please daub on a - little and lock this up in your safe. Then Mr. Hook and you and I will - feel all right about our affairs.” - </p> - <p> - I led the gang to the wood-lot, and that plug-hat of mine must have - flashed in the March sunlight about as brightly as the helmet of Henry of - Navarre—providing I remember my <i>Fourth Reader</i> selection. That - wad of bills which I had frisked out of the table drawer was bulked - against my ribs in most comforting manner. - </p> - <p> - I never saw men pitch into a job more cheerfully than those chaps did - after I led them over the fence and gave the word. It was a real frolic. - Men bantered one another and made side bets on ability and everybody was - laughing. Axes sounded in a chick-chock chorus, and trees began to crash - down. - </p> - <p> - I spent the most of the day on the job, for I saw opportunities for extra - profits; there was quite a stand of hackmatack, for instance, and there - was a lot of cedar which fringed a small swamp. I made special bargains - with men to fell this stuff for railroad ties. There was also considerable - pine suitable for, box stuff; before the day was over a portable-sawmill - man, hearing of the onslaught on the Kingsley lot, came hurrying to the - village, made a trade for the pine, and paid down a sizable deposit; - advertising was certainly paying! - </p> - <p> - One of the most interested onlookers was my uncle Deck, who drove dose to - the wood-lot fence and scowled and sliced the air with his whip. He made - several trips during the day and was handy by when I started to walk back - to the village in the late afternoon. He offered a seat in his wagon and I - accepted, for I was all done being scared of him and I was footsore. - </p> - <p> - “Recorded your deed yet?” he asked. - </p> - <p> - “No, not yet,” I said, airily. - </p> - <p> - “Probably not, seeing that you haven’t got any.” - </p> - <p> - I let it go at that, having no sensible explanation to give a business man - like my uncle. - </p> - <p> - “So, as it stands,” he went on, “it’s a case of neck-and-neck whether <i>he’ll</i> - jew you or <i>you’ll</i> jew <i>him</i>. As bad as I hate <i>him</i> I’m - getting to hate <i>you</i> worse! I hope he’ll stick you. But I doubt it. - A young pirate who can step in here and steal a whole wood-lot right under - the noses of men who ought to know better is qualified to give old Judas - I-scarrot lessons in deviltry.” - </p> - <p> - “I don’t blame you for feeling pleased and for praising me, Uncle Deck. I - certainly am doing credit to your training.” - </p> - <p> - “But as first selectman of this town I’ve got a reputation to look after, - and where will I get off with one of my blood and name serving time in - State prison for grand larceny?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I’m not going to State prison.” - </p> - <p> - “You will, with that old devil after you, surer’n hell’s down-hill!” - </p> - <p> - “We’re sort of partners, the judge and I.” I decided that I might as well - give him a jolt or two, even if his common sense did tell him that I was - lying. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, bah-h-h!” he yelped. - </p> - <p> - “And as his partner I want to warn you against trying to trig his business - affairs.” - </p> - <p> - He almost yanked the jaw off his horse, pulling the animal to a - standstill. - </p> - <p> - “Condemn your young tripe! You are about as much a partner of his as a - pullet is partner of a polecat! Don’t you talk up to me! If you are trying - to cheat him I’ll help you do it. But if you are trying to help him, down - goes your house!” - </p> - <p> - “I propose to help him—help his family,” I said. - </p> - <p> - To my surprise he held himself in. “Help him how?” he asked. - </p> - <p> - “Why, by making you quit hounding him, for one thing. It’s time this - foolish old row was stopped. I am taking a special interest in Judge - Kingsley’s family in these days.” - </p> - <p> - “Down to brass tacks, now! You mean just what you say, do you?” - </p> - <p> - “I most certainly do, Uncle Deck!” - </p> - <p> - “Don’t you dare to call me uncle, you wall-eyed pup! You have gone to - leaning up against that girl like a tomcat cuddling a warm brick, have - you? You’re letting her fool you along—” - </p> - <p> - “Shut that dirty mouth of yours!” I shouted. - </p> - <p> - “Get out of this wagon—out with you!” - </p> - <p> - I obeyed promptly, for I had had plenty of his society. - </p> - <p> - He waggled his whip-lash close to my nose when I stood in the road. “When - you get into State prison, where you belong,” he snarled, “you’ll have a - chum there. For that’s where I’m going to send old Kingsley, so help me - the living God!” - </p> - <p> - And he curled the lash with all his might under the belly of his horse, - taking it out on the poor brute, and tore away, with the animal on the - dead run. - </p> - <p> - I trudged along in the dust he left flying. A fine chance I stood of - handling my uncle Deck! - </p> - <p> - A precious lot of fool babbling that talk had been at the front door of - the Kingsley house the night before! - </p> - <p> - Nevertheless, I went to the house again that evening, for I had a business - excuse. I told mother and daughter that certain urgent matters called me - out of town and that I would be leaving early in the morning. I had a word - or two to say about my arrangements for clearing the lot so that their - minds might be at ease if any gossip came to them; in country communities - there are busybodies who are always guessing at mischief and are trying to - make trouble. - </p> - <p> - I remained with them only a short time, for I was afraid they would try to - get consolation out of me regarding my uncle and I was not in the mood to - do any more lying. I was in a generally uncomfortable state of mind, - anyway, and I knew that Celene was troubled by my manner. There seemed to - be sense of impending evil hovering over the three of us. Frankly, my - uncle’s threat regarding the judge had thrown a good-sized scare into me; - Uncle Deck had truly acted as if he knew what he was talking about. My own - conscience was creaking considerably inside me. When I rose to go Celene - did not see me to the door. She gazed at me tenderly when I stated that I - would be back in a few days, but some sort of reserve kept her at her - mother’s side. - </p> - <p> - The stars were certainly not so bright that night when I walked back to - the tavern. In my gloom a memory popped into my mind, queerly enough. I - remembered that Dodovah Vose had loaned me ten dollars the night he helped - me to escape. - </p> - <p> - I plucked a bill out of my breast pocket and handed it to him when I - walked into the tavern. - </p> - <p> - “I hope you’ll excuse the delay,” I pleaded. - </p> - <p> - “I sure will,” he replied, heartily. “You’re an honest chap, young - Sidney!” - </p> - <p> - But I was far from feeling honest that night. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - XIII—THE MAN WHO TALKED IN THE DARK - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">N</span>EXT morning - Dodovah Vose drove me to the railroad station at the Lower Comers. He - looked at the trip as a sort of a triumphal parade, and said so to me. - </p> - <p> - “Some different from that night ride we took, young Sidney,” he chuckled. - “I’m playing hackman this time so as to take the taste of that other ride - out of my mouth!” - </p> - <p> - Yet, as I rode that morning by his side, I was wondering whether I would - have courage to come back to Levant. Panic was in me—it truly was! - </p> - <p> - “Mighty scared little bug was you that night! But I always knew you had - sprawl and gumption in you. Now you’re showing the old town a thing or two - and I’m proud of you.” - </p> - <p> - His praise made me cringe more than ever. - </p> - <p> - When we passed the wood-lot a merry rick-tack of axes sounded in our ears. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir! You have shown them all that you can come back here and start - something,” stated Landlord Vose. He did not realize how infernally right - he was. What I had started was setting the willy-wallies to dancing in my - soul. - </p> - <p> - “Things have come along with such a rush that I haven’t thought to ask you - how you happened to hit it off so smooth with the judge,” he proceeded, - and my alarm increased. - </p> - <p> - “I met him on the road, and we turned a quick trade on the spot. He was - starting for the city and we had to trade sudden or not at all.” - </p> - <p> - “That hasn’t been the judge’s usual way in business,” he commented, - sagely. “I have had some dealings with him myself, and so I know his style - pretty well.” He gave me a sly, sideways glance. “Yes, I know him so well - that I’ve noticed how he’s losing his grip on business.” - </p> - <p> - “And do you think he has been losing money, too?” I plumped at him. - </p> - <p> - “Well,” drawled Vose, “I don’t know how much money he’s got nor what sort - of investments he’s carrying or how much money he has been handling for - other folks, for he has always been cussed secret in his operations. And - the folks who have turned money over to him have been secret, too, for I - reckon he has helped them hide their money away from the tax-assessors. - But I’ll tell you, young Sidney, his money, however much he’s got, must be - pretty well tied up these days.” - </p> - <p> - I questioned him with a side-glance which met his own. “Because when old - Rollins died a few months ago the heirs lit on the judge for the money he - had in his hands—for the heirs are spenders and wanted the money to - toss away. The judge’s home place is in his wife’s name and she mortgaged - it to raise the money—and when a man mortgages the roof over his - family’s head he does need money, there’s no doubt about that.” - </p> - <p> - “But there are times when a man doesn’t like to sacrifice securities,” I - said. Somehow I felt as if I had been specially delegated to stand up for - the Kingsley family. “Maybe so! Maybe so!” agreed Vose. “Finance is a - strange critter—and the judge is a regular financier. But, I swan, - if I like the looks of the strangers he has been doing business with for a - long time back. I ain’t any kind of a hand to pry into the dealings of men - who put up at my tavern. Those fellows always paid their bills and showed - plenty of money, but it don’t seem to me as if straight business needs to - be so blamed secret.” - </p> - <p> - “However, the big fellows in money affairs keep their cards pretty dose to - their vests,” I suggested. - </p> - <p> - “Maybe so! But he’s selling property off slapdash—” - </p> - <p> - “Mrs. Kingsley says he wants to get rid of some of his cares.” Perhaps she - had not said just that—but I had taken the rôle of the family - champion. - </p> - <p> - “Maybe so—and if that’s the case, it’s too bad your uncle Deck is - rampaging so. Generally, we all trust the judge and look up to him, and we - don’t want to see him bothered at this time in his life. But here’s your - uncle trying to stir, up enough sentiment to call a special town meeting.” - </p> - <p> - “What for?” I was more alarmed than ever. - </p> - <p> - “His excuse is that the town is now so prosperous that we can afford to - pay off the whole town debt by a little extra splurge in taxation. Says - that with the debt all paid off new industries can be induced to locate - here.” - </p> - <p> - “But does that mean anything against Judge Kingsley? It looks to me like - enterprise on Uncle Deck’s part.” Again Mr. Vose chanted his everlasting - and singsong, “Maybe so!” Then he added: “But I reckon your uncle Deck has - more visible property spread around this town than any other taxpayer in - it. Maybe he has had a change of heart about money. Maybe he intends to - loosen up in his old age. Maybe he wants to hand something back to a town - he has gouged all his life. But from what I know of your uncle Deck, I - don’t think he has grown so cussed patriotic all of a sudden. Young - Sidney, I reckon there’s a hotter and livelier reason. Your uncle has been - nursing a grudge till it’s well-grown and all haired out. That grudge is - prancing, and he’s willing to pay high for a chance to show its paces in - public. And there’s more in the plan of that special town meeting than - shows on the surface at present writing!” - </p> - <p> - Therefore, when I climbed on board the train I had plenty to think about - outside the immediate business I had in hand, though that was enough for - one poor mind, Lord knows! - </p> - <p> - Take everything, by and large, I was in the prime mess of my young life up - to date. - </p> - <p> - The principal reason why I stayed in it, I suppose, was because I didn’t - know any better! That reason has accounted for a lot of my experiences. - </p> - <p> - Some of the best fights on the records have been won by men who were worst - scared. - </p> - <p> - I alighted in Mechanicsville in a state of mind I’ll not attempt to - describe. But I looked at myself in a store window and made up a business - face to go with my appearance. I hired the best hack in sight, I started - on a round of factories, wood merchants, brick-yards, and lumber-dealers. - I rode up to the doors of offices in style; I walked in on ’em in - style. - </p> - <p> - It was certainly a new wrinkle in wood-peddling—this plug-hat - performance! It opened all doors to me. I don’t know what they thought I - was, before I opened my mouth, but I was not kept twiddling my thumbs in - anterooms; the main squeeze in every office shunted all else in order to - greet me. I wonder what would have been my lot if I had come as a - stammering farmer, a crude countryman, or a chopper in wool boots! - </p> - <p> - I sold wood! By gracious, I did! - </p> - <p> - I found out something all of a sudden. I discovered that I had the art of - salesmanship. It’s an art, a qualification hard to describe. Every man who - has ever bought anything knows what it is and how it has operated in his - case. - </p> - <p> - I sold wood and lumber and sleepers—and the more I sold, the higher - rose my confidence in my personality, and I had hard work to control and - conceal my hysterics of success. - </p> - <p> - I worked off onto brick-yards even the crooked limbs, the second-grade - stuff which I had seen piling up on my operation. - </p> - <p> - With every buyer I made written contracts, designating prompt delivery on - certain dates, first deliveries to be made within a week and calling for - cash payments of two-thirds of value of wood delivered, the whole amount - to be paid when final delivery was made. - </p> - <p> - I went on down the line to another city and then to a third. I sold wood! - I sold for three days. Then I woke up and stopped selling. It occurred to - me that I might be overguessing on the resources of the Kingsley wood-lot. - </p> - <p> - I had not a mite of trouble in arranging with the division superintendent - of the railroad line for a supply of gondola cars; I was offering - something worth his attention. - </p> - <p> - I left that gentleman in mighty abrupt fashion; he must have thought that - I was a very precipitate business man. But while I was winding up my - arrangements with him, I looked out of his office window in the railroad - station into the windows of a train which was pulling slowly out, on its - way up-country. I caught a glimpse of a stem profile with a roll of - chin-beard under it. If that face did not belong to Zebulon Kingsley—But - I did not stop to do any more thinking on the matter. I galloped out of - that office. I had to chase that train a hundred yards down the platform—but - I made the last car! - </p> - <p> - Zebulon Kingsley home ahead of schedule! - </p> - <p> - I stood on the car steps, getting my breath, giving dizzy thought to the - peril I had so narrowly missed. Zebulon Kingsley back in Levant ahead of - me, viewing his desolated wood-lot and voicing his fury! Where would my - character and importance land after that blow-up? - </p> - <p> - Did I say that my dizzy thoughts dealt with a peril I had missed? In about - ten seconds I decided that I was traveling right along with the peril. I - was doomed to drop into Levant in its company. - </p> - <p> - I might have been mistaken, I reflected. I hoped I had been deceived by a - too-hasty glance. I walked down through the train. I was pretty sure of my - man when I passed him, though I got a view of the back of his head only. - Therefore I went to the front of the car, making an excuse of the - water-cooler. I looked back at him while I drank. He seemed to be asleep, - for his head was bent down into the folds of the cape he had pulled about - his ears. I was so sure he was asleep that when I went back up the car I - gave him a bold look to convince myself I had not been mistaken. - </p> - <p> - I got one of the starts of my life! - </p> - <p> - Zebulon Kingsley was distinctly not asleep. His eyes were like fire-balls, - and he stared straight at me without one flicker of the lids or crinkle of - the countenance to show that he recognized me. His face was gray and - haggard. He was like a stone man. If he had given one hint by his - expression that he knew me I would have pushed myself in beside him, I - reckon, and would have come across with my little story. But that frozen - face was too much for me. I was doing a lot of guessing about his state of - mind, and my guesses warned me to stay away from him just then. - </p> - <p> - I hurried past and sat down in the first vacant seat. - </p> - <p> - The feeling I had was that he had found out by letter from home or somehow - what kind of a trick I had cut up. Those glaring eyes hinted at - unutterable things. He must be in such a fury, I thought, that words had - failed him. He was waiting until he stepped foot in Levant to go at me in - proper style. Naturally, he would not start anything on a railroad train. - I sat there while those, thoughts flamed up in me like fire in a - brush-heap, and for a long time I found no handy extinguisher for those - thoughts. - </p> - <p> - However, there was a rather comforting packet in the breast pocket of my - frock-coat; I got out those contracts and went over them carefully. - </p> - <p> - I did have some visible emblems of success to stick up in front of his - sour face when it came to a showdown. But if Zebulon Kingsley was not - willing to start anything in public on a train, neither was I. I studied - my contracts, added figures, and tried to keep my mind off the big trouble - ahead. But who has ever sat near a bomb with a sputtering fuse and felt in - a mood for philosophy? I couldn’t even add figures! - </p> - <p> - The train bumped on and on. It was a long ride. - </p> - <p> - When we arrived at Levant Corners, I followed Kingsley so closely that we - almost walked in a lock-step. I had a sort of crazy notion that if he - started to bawl me out on the platform and expose me to the populace I’d - choke him and drag him off somewhere for an explanation, for I truly did - have a face to save in Levant. - </p> - <p> - I trod behind him on the station platform. Far up the platform was waiting - a man who wore a constable’s badge. I itched all over as we approached - that man; I fully expected that the judge would whirl and point me out and - call for my arrest. But the constable touched his hat respectfully and the - judge marched on. I almost bumped into him when he stopped at hail of a - citizen. I was forced to go on, then. The citizen had buttonholed the - judge on some matter of business, but by the few words I heard I knew it - was no affair of mine. I ran my eye over the array of hitches waiting in - the station yard, expecting to see Celene Kingsley. But she was not there. - Her absence hinted to me that her father was not expected. Then he would - ride on the stage! I resolved to walk on and to hail it when it overtook - me. I proposed to be on the scene when Judge Kingsley got first peep at - what had been his wood-lot. I kept looking behind and noted that he walked - past the stage-coach and had started to foot it on my trail. Therefore he - was not expected at home, and for reasons of his own had decided to walk. - </p> - <p> - When I saw that the stage had come on without him and had observed that he - shook protesting hand at persons who stopped and offered a lift, I walked - on more briskly. He wanted to be left alone, then! His expression had - already hinted to me that he had no use for companionship at that time. - </p> - <p> - At last I could hear my ax-men. Their blades were biting wood in lively - chorus, though the dusk was gathering. I realized that the spirit of - rivalry was in them and that they were not watching the clock on that job. - When I came in sight of the wood-lot I saw that a big expanse had been - cleared, down to the bushes; the bared land was thickly dotted with wood - which was tiered in cord lots. I hardly recognized the place. - </p> - <p> - The notion struck me that this was the proper strategic point to await the - battle. In the first place, I would not be obliged to waste any breath in - telling Zebulon Kingsley that his wood-lot was being cleared; his eyes - would inform him on that point. I could devote all my language and energy - to the job of enlightening him regarding my activities in the matter, my - hopes and his prospects of getting some money. Secondly, considering - strategy, my appearance before my men, accompanied by Judge Kingsley, - after I got him under control, would put the stamp of authority on the - whole affair; I believed I could control him. He certainly would have to - take the situation as he found it; he couldn’t stick those trees back into - the ground again. - </p> - <p> - Therefore I settled my plug-hat well on my head, pulled out my bunch of - contracts, and waited for him to come around the bend in the road. - </p> - <p> - I reflected that he had looked to me like a man who had a great deal of - trouble on his mind. In my young days, when old dog Bonny was dreadfully - afflicted with fleas I tied a tin can to his tail to take his mind off his - troubles. I believe fully that changing the current of his thoughts for a - time proved really restful to him. - </p> - <p> - It was certain that Judge Kingsley would have the current of his thoughts - changed in a very few minutes. He would have something entirely fresh to - think about, and I hoped it would do him good, even though I received no - thanks. - </p> - <p> - He seemed pretty much cast down when he shambled into sight, his shoulders - bowed, staring at the road ahead of him. But all at once he straightened, - threw back his head, and seemed to sniff the air. - </p> - <p> - “Charge!” I said to myself. And he set his elbows akimbo under his cape - and came at a trot. - </p> - <p> - He tried to rush past me on his way to the fence, but I stepped in front - of him and threw up my hands. - </p> - <p> - “Just a moment, Judge Kingsley! This is my business—” - </p> - <p> - “Your business be damned!” he stuttered. - </p> - <p> - Strong talk for a Sunday-school teacher, but it made him seem more human - and my courage rose a bit. I had not known how to tackle that frozen - figure he looked to be in the railroad train. - </p> - <p> - “But I’ll explain!” - </p> - <p> - “I’m going to find out what this set of infernal thieves—” - </p> - <p> - He wouldn’t wait any longer, though I was trying to head him off with my - arms outstretched. He drove past me and wrenched a post out of the fence - and started to climb into the wood-lot. There was only one thing to do—I - must get the upper hand of the infuriated old man before we attracted the - attention of my busy workers; the dusk was helping me in that respect. - </p> - <p> - I pulled the stake from him, held him by his arms, and set my face close - to his; he was a scrawny old chap and he hadn’t any muscle left. - </p> - <p> - “Judge Kingsley, forgive me—but you must listen. It’s best for all - concerned. I have bought this lot from you and I am operating on it.” - </p> - <p> - I thought he would choke to death before he got the words wrenched out of - him. - </p> - <p> - “You haven’t bought it. You couldn’t buy it! There is no money passed. - There’s no deed. You’re a thief!” - </p> - <p> - I had dropped the bunch of contracts when I grabbed him. I released my - clutch on one arm and picked up the packet. - </p> - <p> - “Here’s something to show I am not a thief, sir. You’ve got to look at ’em. - And the middle of the road is no place for our business.” - </p> - <p> - Furthermore, I noticed all at once that the choppers were giving up work - and starting for the highway. - </p> - <p> - Probably the most sensible way was for me to go along to his house, - exhorting him to keep his mouth shut till he understood the matter. But a - row with him in his own house would be exposing myself to Celene. I held - his arm and hurried him across the road and into the woods opposite. He - protested angrily, but I kept him on the move until we were in a little - clearing which the red western skies still lighted enough for my purpose. - </p> - <p> - I flapped the contracts under his nose. “You advertised the land—you - gave me a price, Judge Kingsley. I know I have been irregular. I cannot - stop now to explain why, but I have sold all the wood. Here are the - contracts. Hunt up the men and make sure, if you don’t believe writing and - signatures. I’ll let you go and collect your two thousand dollars before a - dollar comes to me.” I shoved the papers into his hands and he pawed them - over without seeming to understand very well. “Contracts?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir! Contracts with responsible concerns.” - </p> - <p> - “I’ll have you arrested,” he insisted, but his anger was dying out and he - sort of whined, “It’s my land; you haven’t any right to make contracts.” - </p> - <p> - All at once his legs bent under him and he sat down on the ground. There - was plainly something special the matter with Zebulon Kingsley! - </p> - <p> - “Oh, my God!” he mourned. “Are all the blatherskites, thieves, and - swindlers in this world on my track?” - </p> - <p> - “Don’t tie any of those kind of tags on to me, Judge Kingsley. It isn’t - fair!” - </p> - <p> - “You have robbed me!” - </p> - <p> - “Confound it! Look at the contracts!” He did not seem to be taking any - interest in the papers; he merely waggled the packet about like a child - waving a rattle. - </p> - <p> - “First one, and then the other! They have robbed me. I am ruined!” - </p> - <p> - I squatted down in front of him and made him look at me. I was in the mood - for any kind of self-sacrifice. I wanted to beat it into his old head that - there was one man who was trying to help him. - </p> - <p> - “Judge Kingsley, listen to me! You are sure of getting your two thousand - dollars for your wood-lot. I say again, go yourself and collect the money. - If my estimates are in any way near right—and I reckon I am inside - the truth—there’s around a thousand dollars profit in this deal, - profit I was intending to take for myself. But, seeing that you feel as - you do about my actions, I’ll hand the whole thing over to you. Take it - all! Come to me in the morning when you’re feeling better and I’ll explain - my trade with Henshaw Hook and the choppers.” - </p> - <p> - He looked at me and never said a word. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t even ask any pay for the time I have put in,” I said, trying to - make myself as much of an angel as I could, now that I was started on the - savior trail. “You understand, don’t you? All you’ve got to do is keep my - promises to the men and pull down around three thousand in cash!” - </p> - <p> - In a story-book that would have been his cue to get up and clasp me to his - breast. He simply blinked at me. I began to get a little warm in the - region of my neckband. - </p> - <p> - “If that’s the way you feel about it, Judge Kingsley,” I said, - straightening up, “I’ll bid you good evening. After you have tucked your - three thousand in your jeans, send me a bill for damages and I’ll settle.” - </p> - <p> - He called me back before I had taken many steps. - </p> - <p> - “My head isn’t right,” he mumbled. “I have been having much trouble. What - have you been telling me?” - </p> - <p> - I went over the thing again, very patiently, for I saw I was dealing with - a case which was more serious than I thought. The night was on us by that - time. I tore strips of birch bark from a tree, lighted them one by one, - and made a torch so that he could examine one of the contracts. Again I - insisted that he must cake the whole thing over profits and all. - </p> - <p> - “I had no right to start in on your property as I did, Judge Kingsley. So - I’ll fine myself a thousand!” - </p> - <p> - “I think I ought to call you honest, young man,” he said, after a time. “I - have hard work to believe that any man is honest in this world just now, - but what you say sounds honest. I’ll meet you half-way in your honesty.” - </p> - <p> - He asked me to hold more torches. He found a sheet of letter-paper in his - wallet, bearing his name printed at the top. He wrote a receipt for two - thousand dollars, using the long wallet for his desk. - </p> - <p> - “I have dated it four days back. Now that I have met you half-way in one - matter, young man, I ask you to meet me half-way in another. When you get - that, money in hand, pay it to my wife. Do not tell anybody that you did - not pay it to me.” He hesitated a moment. “As to the land—the deed—” - </p> - <p> - “I have no use for the land, Judge Kingsley. So there’s no call for a - deed.” - </p> - <p> - “I think you are honest, young man. I believe I can trust you to give the - money to my wife—and say nothing about it outside!” - </p> - <p> - “But I can give it to you, sir, in a few days!” - </p> - <p> - “I expect to be away on business for some time,” he said, curtly. “Now - understand! Whatever questions are asked by anybody you must insist that - you paid that money to me. Your own interest requires it! Show the - receipt.” - </p> - <p> - “Forgive me for keeping you here so long in the dark and the cold, sir,” I - pleaded, realizing the situation all at once. “If you’ll let me call on - you to-morrow I’ll have something further to say about the matter of the - profits—but I won’t bother you any more to-night.” - </p> - <p> - “That’s right! Don’t bother me to-night.” - </p> - <p> - I waited for him to come along with me. - </p> - <p> - “Good night, young man,” he said. “Step along ahead if you will! I prefer - to walk home alone—I have some business matters to run over in my - head.” - </p> - <p> - I realized fully that Judge Zebulon Kingsley did not care to have a Sidney - chumming with him before the eyes of Levant, and I did not take this - dismissal in bad part. I marched off. - </p> - <p> - But the memory of that face of his went with me. Fifty feet up in the road - I stood stock-still. What did it mean—his command to hand over the - money to his wife, making a secret of it? What made his eyes burn so - redly? What was the matter with Judge Kingsley, anyway? I listened for his - footsteps on the road behind me. I heard no sound. - </p> - <p> - It came to me that Celene Kingsley would have reason to blame me if I left - her old father floundering around the woods in the darkness. - </p> - <p> - I went tiptoeing back, my ears perked. - </p> - <p> - I heard him talking rapidly and clearly, not as one talks aloud in - soliloquy, but as if he were addressing somebody. I stepped carefully in - through the fringe of trees and I found out that Zebulon Kingsley <i>was</i> - talking to somebody; he was talking to God! - </p> - <p> - I listened five seconds and I realized what he was talking about. Then I - leaped on him and struck his wrist with the edge of my hand. - </p> - <p> - He dropped a fat, ugly revolver which had glinted in the starlight. I - pounced on it and flung it into the woods as far as muscle, fright, and - anger could prevail. When I turned on the judge he had just tugged another - revolver out of his pocket, twin of the other weapon. I had a tussle with - him to get it, and he fairly squealed in his fury. But I wrenched the - thing out of his clutch and threw it; then I pulled him to his feet and - patted him all over, as a policeman frisks a prisoner, to make sure that - he was not serving as arsenal for more artillery. - </p> - <p> - “Judge Kingsley,” I kept saying over and over, “your wife! Your daughter! - Think of them!” - </p> - <p> - I was obliged to drag him out of the woods by main strength. I propelled - him along the highway and he walked as stiffly as some kind of a wooden - figure, moved by springs. His eyes stared straight ahead and his face was - white in the starlight. - </p> - <p> - So we came into the village without a word between us, and I led him by - dark lanes to his house. - </p> - <p> - Then he held back and replied to what I had said in the woods as if I had - just spoken. - </p> - <p> - “I <i>am</i> thinking of them! That’s why I can’t face them!” - </p> - <p> - Oh, the tone in which he said that! Questions were crowding in my throat, - but I did not dare to pry into troubles as deep as Judge Kingsley’s most - certainly were. But I had to have some assurance from him. - </p> - <p> - “Judge Kingsley,” I said, with respect in my voice, “I am meddling, but - God knows there was a call for somebody to meddle just now.” - </p> - <p> - “I want to be out of my troubles!” He was trembling like a leaf. - </p> - <p> - “But you’re not so much of a coward, Judge, that you’ll shift off all of - your troubles on to your family, along with the awful one you were just - about to shove on them! I know you’re not. I have always looked up to you, - sir.”. - </p> - <p> - “But nobody can look up to me from now on, young man!” - </p> - <p> - “I always shall, sir. We all get rattled some time in our lives.” I knew I - was making pretty poor talk to a man like Judge Kingsley, but I was - trembling as badly as he was and I did not know what to say to him. - </p> - <p> - “I’m only poor Ross Sidney, sir. You know I don’t amount to much, but - won’t you consider that I have done a little something for you this night? - I stopped you when you didn’t know what you were doing.” - </p> - <p> - “I did know what I was doing,” he groaned. “I was doing it because I - couldn’t go home. I walked up the road to the woods—to my woods on - purpose to do it!” - </p> - <p> - It came to me that fate, or whatever rules human actions, had set me to - play quite a part in Judge Kingsley’s life, for his private woods were not - there—and <i>I</i> was. - </p> - <p> - “Will you consider me enough of a man, sir, so that I can ask a man-to-man - promise that you’ll sleep on this thing and have a talk with me to-morrow? - I have helped you on one matter. I’ll do my best to help you in other - ways!” - </p> - <p> - “There’s no help for me.” - </p> - <p> - “But let me have a talk to-morrow with you! I beg you, Judge Kingsley. - Give me your promise till tomorrow!” - </p> - <p> - He stiffened up and scowled at me. He resented what I said, I could see. I - guess he thought I was trying to be too familiar with him. The old chap’s - pride was still on tap. I suppose it seemed like lowering his dignity to - make any sort of a man’s compact with young Ross Sidney. However, I was - glad to see pride bristle up a bit in him. - </p> - <p> - “I never heard of a Kingsley being a coward, Judge,” I told him. “Or being - a liar, either! You owe me something, sir, and I’ll insist on being paid - with your promise. So I reckon I have it.” I did not give him opportunity - to do any talking. I rang the bell at the door, though he grabbed at my - hand to stop me. - </p> - <p> - “I can’t go in now! My face—my conscience!” So his conscience was - still working! - </p> - <p> - “Leave it all to me, sir. I’ll fix it.” - </p> - <p> - The maid opened the door, and I led him into the sitting-room. Celene and - her mother were there and they came to their feet, gasping with fright, - for I was half carrying the judge. - </p> - <p> - “It’s nothing—it’s all right!” I told them. “We have been inspecting - the work in the wood-lot on the way from the train. It’s nothing, I say—just - a little touch of the heart. The judge insisted on walking too much.” I - helped him to a couch. “I’ll call in the morning on that business, sir!” I - told him. Then I turned to Celene, who was giving me warm welcome with her - eyes, now that her fears were subsiding. “Keep your eye on your father - during the night,” I advised her. “Of course, it’s nothing serious in his - case—only a little overtasking of the heart—but a bit of home - nursing will do him good.” - </p> - <p> - I reckoned I had planted a loyal sentinel over the man who was indebted to - me for giving him more days of his life, even though they might be bitter - days. - </p> - <p> - I went to Dodovah Vose’s tavern, feeling still more like an overloaded - mule—saddled with plenty of my own troubles, to say nothing of other - folks’. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - XIV—THE KICK-BACKS IN THIS SAMARITAN BUSINESS - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span> WAS too much - upset to go to sleep very early that night, even though Dodovah Vose had - given me another of those slumber-coaxing suppers of fried chicken. - </p> - <p> - So Zebulon Kingsley was ruined, according to his own tell! - </p> - <p> - But what else besides ruin was fronting him? I knew him and the stuff that - was in him. When a man like the judge came humping back to his home town, - packing a gun on each hip and headed for his woods, there to do himself - destruction, it meant something more than that he was flat broke. The fact - that he had two guns suggested that he did not propose to take any chances - on failure. - </p> - <p> - His troubles might have skeow-wowed his mind temporarily, I pondered. The - fact that he had given me, one of the despised Sidneys, a half-dozen - decent words hinted at aberration, as I thought upon the matter. I hoped - that he would stay crazy long enough so that he would allow me to poke - myself still further into his affairs and his family, and show me a little - appreciation. Up to that time I certainly had been using ax and crowbar on - the intimacy proposition! - </p> - <p> - It was my conviction that he would be obliged to be pretty nice to me from - that time on. I knew something very private and personal in regard to - Judge Kingsley, Levant magnate! All at once I found myself feeling rather - like sticking my thumbs in my vest armholes and showing condescension to - that man who had loomed so largely before my admiration. At any rate, no - Sidney had ever committed suicide or had tried to, unless it might be - hinted that it mightily resembled suicide when my father ran the - ridge-pole of the Butler barn after wetting down the occasion with a quart - or so of hard cider. - </p> - <p> - I felt decidedly cocky when I started over to his house the next morning. - I had his secret—I had manhandled him to save his life. A man might - make up his mind to commit suicide, thought I, and then be particularly - and almighty grateful, after a night’s sleep, because some chap happened - along at the right time and stopped him before he had made a fool of - himself. - </p> - <p> - I headed for the front door like a friend of the family. - </p> - <p> - Judge Kingsley opened his office door in the ell and called to me. - </p> - <p> - “I do not transact business in my home,” he informed me, stiffly. He - tapped the sign beside his door. “Z. Kingsley” was its sole inscription, - curtly hinting that no further information was needed regarding that - gentleman. “I do all business in my office, sir.” - </p> - <p> - I don’t know in just what condition I had been expecting to find the - judge, and I had not planned how I would act when I met him, but I know - mighty well I had not calculated on the sort of meeting we did have. - </p> - <p> - I found him just as I had found him in times past when we had had a word - or so together—and that was my surprise that day! - </p> - <p> - I would not have been much astonished if he had fallen on my neck and - sobbed out his gratitude; I rather looked for some demonstration. To find - him the same old, cold, stiff ramrod was outside all my anticipations. I - went in meekly and sat down. - </p> - <p> - “In the matter of the wood-lot,” he said, perfectly at ease and putting - that jew’s-harp twang in his nose. “I have looked the contracts over. - Young man, I don’t know whether to compliment you as one of the smartest - business men I have ever met, or to have you arrested for an attempt at - grand larceny!” - </p> - <p> - I did not know what to say to that, and sat and fiddled my finger across - the brim of my plug-hat. - </p> - <p> - He put out his hand. “Please allow me to look at that receipt I gave you.” - </p> - <p> - I handed it over—obedient as a pup. He read it and tore it up. - </p> - <p> - “It is as irregular a document as your operations have been irregular. I - will give you a deed, taking back your note and a mortgage—” - </p> - <p> - “But I want no deed, sir. I said so to you last evening. I don’t want the - land. You keep it.” - </p> - <p> - He gave me a chilly stare. “My price of two thousand dollars was on the - lot—not merely the wood on the lot. The land will be yours when we - have passed our papers. I don’t know why I should place myself under - obligations to you by any such foolish child’s play as you suggest.” Say, - I felt myself slipping out of the Kingsley family circle as if I were - going down a cellar slide in a puddle of soft soap. I made a desperate - clutch. - </p> - <p> - “Judge Kingsley,” I said, “I made you another offer last night. I offered - to turn the whole proposition over to you—profits and all! I had no - business starting in on the operation. If you are in some sort of trouble—” - </p> - <p> - “Who said I was in trouble?” - </p> - <p> - “You said so last evening,” I faltered. - </p> - <p> - “Have you told anybody I said so, sir?” he demanded, sharply. - </p> - <p> - “No, sir! Certainly not.” - </p> - <p> - “If you permit yourself to hint that to anybody I shall promptly brand you - as a falsifier and have you before the court on the charge of slander. You - must realize that I could secure large damages because a financial man’s - reputation forms his stock in trade. I could have you sent to prison on a - criminal charge.” - </p> - <p> - “I don’t see any need of your sitting there and threatening me in that - fashion,” I protested, with some heat. “I have tried to help you—” - </p> - <p> - “I have not asked for any of your help—I do not need it, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “I don’t suppose you do,” I admitted, sourly. - </p> - <p> - “Certainly not!” - </p> - <p> - I couldn’t figure what his game was—it was his own business, anyway—but - I did not propose to have him sneering at me. His manner when he said, - “Certainly not!” was mighty nasty. I rose and kicked my chair away from - me. - </p> - <p> - “You needn’t show any gratitude if you don’t feel like it, Judge Kingsley. - You’ll never hear a word from me about anything that has happened, but I’m - not keeping still because you have threatened me. I’m keeping my mouth - shut because I’m man enough to do so! And, by gad! I hope you’re man - enough, on your side, to show me a little decency and to remember that you - have a wife and daughter to protect from scandal and shame. Good day!” I - put on my hat and marched out. - </p> - <p> - I’m making due allowance for the judge’s state of mind, but truly that old - hyampus did have the natural ability to stir a man’s temper. A Kingsley - and a Sidney got along together about as well as the two parts of a - Seidlitz powder do when they meet in a glass of water! - </p> - <p> - I slammed the door after me, but I had gone only a few feet when I - remembered that I had left behind my contracts. Furthermore, I had not - finished my business in regard to the deed and the payments. So I whirled - and went back in without stopping to knock. - </p> - <p> - It was as if he had been playing a part with me with a mask to hide his - face! He had laid down the mask. - </p> - <p> - I looked on a fairly hideous scroll of awful, utter woe. That was his - face. He was crumpled down in his chair. He did not look at me. I picked - up the packet. - </p> - <p> - “Are you ready to attend to the matter of the deed, sir?” - </p> - <p> - He wagged his head weakly from side to side. “Later!” he muttered. “Come - later. Come this evening, perhaps.” - </p> - <p> - I went down into the woods and hunted for hours until I found those two - revolvers. That face of his was before me all the time. I expected to look - up and find him hunting, too. There were other ways of committing suicide - than by shooting, but I did not propose to leave those revolvers around - loose, seeing that he had made up his mind to use that means of shuffling - off. That face which he had exposed to me showed that Judge Kingsley’s - soul was near the limit of endurance. - </p> - <p> - I went about that day sick with fear. My helplessness in the matter was - maddening. He was holding me off with his disdain like a man holding an - enemy at bay with a pitchfork. And I knew that even if he gave me his - confidence there was little a poor devil of my caliber could do in affairs - such as his must be. - </p> - <p> - I wondered if the knowledge that he was ruined was behind his desperate - resolve to die. Of course he had a lot of pride, but other proud men had - failed in business and lived through it. - </p> - <p> - I was obliged to confess to myself that the judge must have a deeper - motive. I remembered my uncle’s threats and wondered what that disturber - had up his sleeve. - </p> - <p> - I almost whipped my courage up to the point of tackling him on the - subject, but when I met him on the street in the afternoon and fronted his - savage scowl I walked right on past, minding my own little business. His - face had an extra touch of flame in it that day. That he had something - special on the docket was plain to be seen. I went down to the wood-lot - and checked up with Henshaw Hook so as to be out of my uncle’s way. His - looks rather scared me. Just as I was walking away from the wood-lot at - dusk he hopped out of his wagon ahead of me and tacked a printed paper to - a wayside tree, glowering at me while I waited at a little distance. It - was evident that he meant that paper especially for my attention. - </p> - <p> - So I walked up and had a look at it when he was out of the way. - </p> - <p> - It called a special town meeting thirty days from that date. As was - necessary in a call of that sort, the purpose of the meeting was stated: - “To see what action the town will take to pay off its indebtedness in - full. Notice is hereby given that all creditors of the town must present - notes or other evidences of claims at that meeting on the 15th day of - April.” - </p> - <p> - What did that call signify in the case of Zebulon Kingsley, town - treasurer? I had seen behind his mask and I guessed! If I guessed rightly - he would feel, when his eyes fell on that paper, like a man who had been - notified of the date of his execution. - </p> - <p> - I started on toward the village, and when I passed Brickett’s duck-pond I - threw the revolvers into the water. - </p> - <p> - I hurried to Judge Kingsley’s house, for I had the excuse of business, and - he himself had made the appointment. There was a light in his office, but - it went out suddenly when I was some distance away. I started to run, and - then I checked myself. I decided that caution rather than haste was - needed. I was right. Standing behind a tree, I saw him come out of the - office door in a sneaking fashion, the early evening hiding him. He went - around the house, and I followed. Young eyes can see in the dark better - than old ones, and he did not spy me where I stood in the dusk, watching - him hack off with a jack-knife a section of the family clothes-line. - </p> - <p> - Stooping and almost staggering he went down into the orchard, and I trod - close behind him undetected, for the trees plastered shadows into which I - dodged. I waited until he had settled a noose around his neck and had - thrown an end of the cord over a limb. I was taking no chances on having - any misunderstanding between Judge Kingsley and myself that trip. In my - own way I was just about as desperate as he was. I marched up to him, took - him by both arms and pushed him against the tree-trunk. - </p> - <p> - He was in such a state, physically and mentally, that he did not protest - or resist; it did not seem to frighten him specially to be overhauled in - that fashion. Honestly, I felt like spanking his face as I would have - whipped a child. This game of “tag the suicide” was getting on my nerves. - </p> - <p> - “Judge Kingsley, you need a guardian and I have appointed myself one,” I - told him, and I was mighty resolute, for I had determined to brace up to - him with all the power in me. “You have no right to kill yourself, and - you’re not going to kill yourself, by gad! not if I have to camp with you - day and night till you get back your nerve. I’m going to take you straight - to your folks and tell ’em you’re out of your head temporarily and - will have to be taken to a hospital!” - </p> - <p> - That brought him out of his numbness, and I knew it would. I believe he - would have struck me if his arms had been free. But I needed to have him - in another mood than the fighting one. I hit him hard. - </p> - <p> - “You’re an embezzler!” I cracked out. “How much?” He crumpled, and I let - him slide down and sit on the ground, his back against the tree. It was - the first time he had ever had that word put to him from man’s mouth, even - though he may have confessed to himself in his heart. - </p> - <p> - “Judge Kingsley,” I said, bravely, knowing that I had an advantage from - then on, “I’m only a young man and I know you don’t think much of me. But - I’m going to grab in on this thing, whether you want me to or not. I have - special reasons of my own. I’ll do everything I can to balk my uncle.” - </p> - <p> - “You’re a spy he has set on me!” - </p> - <p> - “You’re a liar!” I wasn’t going to take any of his sneers or his abuse. I - hated to talk to him as I did, but only by being coarse and rough and - bossy could I hope to pound anything helpful into him. - </p> - <p> - He stared up at me with his jaw hanging down and I did not let up on my - punches. - </p> - <p> - “I have tried to head off my uncle Deck. I have told him straight out that - I am for you and against him. He and I don’t speak to each other. I have - promised your wife and your daughter that I’ll do everything I can to beat - my uncle out in this thing. They don’t understand it! I don’t understand - it all. But, before God, my promise to them is holy, even if you do not - believe in me! I’m in this affair and I’m in to stay.” - </p> - <p> - He began to wag his head as he had done before that day. “Brace up, Judge - Kingsley! You’re not licked yet!” - </p> - <p> - “Those three selectmen have signed my death-warrant. That notice which has - been posted!” - </p> - <p> - I saw that I had him going and I kept him going. “But when an embezzler - stays alive and does his best to straighten matters—” - </p> - <p> - “Don’t call me that name!” he groaned. - </p> - <p> - “If you will take me into your confidence, Judge Kingsley, so that I can - turn to and help you, I swear before Almighty Jehovah that I will set to - work for you with body and soul. I <i>can</i> help you—I know I can - help. No man can feel as I feel and be useless! But let me tell you this - much on the other side!” I bent down and snapped my finger under his nose. - That was no time for half-way and mealy-mouthed stuff. “If you throw me - down after this honest offer, it means that you think I’m too cheap to be - of use and too low to associate with. And that’s an insult I’ll never - swallow! So help me, I’ll drag you up into the village with that rope - around your neck and blow the whole business and hand you over to those - who will take care of you. I will! My mind is made up. Take your choice!” - </p> - <p> - I am sure that with no less bitter alternative could I have jounced any of - his secrets out of Zebulon Kingsley. - </p> - <p> - “I’m just enough of a hellion to do that very thing if you don’t treat me - right,” I warned him, angrily. - </p> - <p> - “You leave me no choice in the matter,” he mourned. “You are—” - </p> - <p> - “Look out, sir! I’m doing what I’m doing out of pure and honest desire to - help you. I want fair treatment.” - </p> - <p> - “Nothing can make my situation worse than it is, I suppose,” he stated, - after meditating for a time. “On the fifteenth day of April it will become - known in town meeting that more than ten thousand dollars of town notes - are out, drawing interest and bearing my name as town treasurer. I have - issued those notes without warrant.” - </p> - <p> - “But the people who hold them know they are out!” He was coldly, numbly - patient with me, the untamed animal who had promised to pounce on him and - drag him to his shame in the village. - </p> - <p> - “I have borrowed the money in various small lots and in each case the - note-holder is keeping absolutely still in order to escape taxation.” - </p> - <p> - “But great Scott! Judge Kingsley, ten thousand dollars for a rich man like - you—” - </p> - <p> - “I am no longer rich. I am ruined. I cannot take up those town notes prior - to the meeting. So I shall be arrested as a criminal! I have lost money - intrusted to me for investment, but though I have lost it I cannot be - prosecuted criminally—it was breach of trust. I hoped to get money - to stave off exposure in the criminal matter so that I could set myself to - earning more money and restoring what I owe to the investors. But I have - not been able to raise that money. That’s why I decided to kill myself. I - knew I couldn’t face it!” - </p> - <p> - “Did you just find out that you couldn’t raise the money, sir?” - </p> - <p> - He looked up at me, shame and agony in his face showing even in the dark. - It began to swell in him—I could see it in his eyes—that - longing which comes to every man in deep trouble—the wild hankering - to confide in somebody—to rush into confession, to unload the heart, - to speak the words which have been pressing to the lips. I was only Ross - Sidney, to be sure, but I was a man and Judge Kingsley had been bottling - his grief for a long time. - </p> - <p> - “What I did last was worst of all! Nobody could have convinced me that I - would ever do such a piece of folly. Think of me doing such a thing—a - man used to the ways of money! A financier! Oh, I have been dreading the - scorn, the sneers, the ridicule more than I have dreaded the exposure of - my town notes! I want to die!” - </p> - <p> - “What have you done, sir?” - </p> - <p> - “My investments were good in years past! I knew how to handle money—but - what I did a few days ago!” - </p> - <p> - “What was it, Judge?” He had been hesitating between his declarations, and - therefore I kept prodding him. But confession of his last affair seemed to - stick in his throat. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I am not guilty—I am not ashamed because I lost money in my - investments! The pirates who have manipulated this country’s industrials - and wrecked the railroads are the guilty ones—they should be ashamed - of what they did to the honest investors! But that I should run the scale - of speculation as I have—to the depths! Down, down, as I got more - desperate! And that I should do what I have just done when I was most - desperate—when your uncle was rushing me toward a cell door!” - </p> - <p> - He twisted his fingers together and cracked his knuckles. - </p> - <p> - I felt like a man waiting for a woodchuck to come out of his hole—getting - an occasional glimpse of a nose and seeing it everlastingly dodging back. - </p> - <p> - “But I had to have money quick. I had lost my grip. I could not raise more - money in a regular way.” - </p> - <p> - “When I was in the city I heard swindlers talk about such men, sir. There - are blacklegs who go about the country hunting for such men. Have you been - swindled?” - </p> - <p> - “Foully—vilely!” - </p> - <p> - “How?” - </p> - <p> - He hooked his fingers inside his collar as if speech had stuck in his - throat. - </p> - <p> - “Laugh!” he advised me. He was as hoarse as a crow and looked as crazy as - a coot. “Go ahead and laugh! I may as well get used to the ridicule.” - </p> - <p> - “I don’t feel much like laughing at anything these days, Judge Kingsley. I - wish that you could understand me better and know how sorry—” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, and you and everybody else will pity me as a fool to be classed in - with the other fools who are gulled by the shell-and-pea game.” - </p> - <p> - “For the sake of Mike, what have you done?” I demanded with a bit of - temper, for I was in no frame of mind to guess riddles. - </p> - <p> - “I—Zebulon Kingsley—a financier, a man supposed to be in his - right mind,” he squealed, beating his breast as he struggled to his feet, - “I bought a gold brick!” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - XV—A TIP FROM MR. DAWLIN - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>HILE I blinked at - Zebulon Kingsley through the gloom I remembered what “Cricket” Welch had - once said to me, in one of those sessions where I lapped up information as - greedily as a kitten laps milk. He had a flow of language, “Cricket” had, - and I wish I could remember his words more accurately. But it was - something like this: - </p> - <p> - “Why should any crook bring on brain-fag by thinking up new ones when the - old ones, with gears smoothed by twenty-five centuries of steady - operation, work so much better? As long ago as old Solomon was figuring on - Temple estimates with the architects, and had quite a reputation in the - country round about, a little chap dropped into a village outside of - Babylon and gave out that he was The Old Boy’s son by Wife 411, and was - interested in King Solomon’s mines along with his dad. Then he unloaded a - gold brick on to a village sucker, first making the sucker believe that - the latter was a buttonhole relation of the Solomon family.” - </p> - <p> - I was running that speech over in my mind while I looked at the judge, a - little uncertain what to say to him under the circumstances. - </p> - <p> - “And yet, the fraud did not seem to be barefaced while they were at work - on me,” lamented the old gentleman. “One of them, the one who came to town - first, was the son of one of my old schoolmates who went West when he was - young and has been settled there ever since. Young Blake was East on - business and dropped into Levant to look the old town over; his father - told him to make himself known to me, so that he could carry back news of - the folks his father used to know here.” - </p> - <p> - And in my book of notes I had set down the detail of just such a scheme as - that! - </p> - <p> - “They always have a skirmisher ahead of the main push,” I blurted. “He - finds out about somebody who settled West—and then along comes the - son.” - </p> - <p> - “What’s that?” demanded Kingsley. “What do you know about it?” - </p> - <p> - “Then, after the son is well settled, along comes one of father’s - partners, East, to sell stock, and he has a sample of the clean-up—a - big hunk of gold—and it’s always a real ingot, too.” - </p> - <p> - “It <i>was</i> real,” insisted the judge, passionately. “I went to the - city and had it tested by a jeweler who is a friend of mine. They offered - me a chance to make money on account of my old friendship. It did not seem - like a gold-brick game. I could not believe it was. I did not dare to - believe it was. I needed money so badly!” - </p> - <p> - “But it was, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “I mortgaged, I borrowed, I pawned! They offered me a chance to make money - because I was a prominent man and could help them sell their stock. They - wanted me to be sure that the proposition was a good one—that the - gold was honest. They took my last five thousand dollars! My God! I bought - a gold brick! I bought it like other fools have bought.” - </p> - <p> - “They always put new trimmings on the old game, Judge Kingsley, and make - it look attractive.” - </p> - <p> - He looked at me strangely and did not answer. - </p> - <p> - “I suppose they worked it as usual,” I went on, feeling just a bit proud - of my knowledge. I reflected that he might be more thankful for his - volunteer if I showed him that I was no greenhorn. His mouth had been - running away with him in his wild eagerness to unload the sorrows from his - soul. All at once he was showing symptoms of stiffening a bit, as if he - wondered why he had opened his heart to such a one as Ross Sidney. - </p> - <p> - I needed all his confidence—the flow was lessening—and so I - “shot the well,” as the oil fellows say. - </p> - <p> - “After they had given you all kinds of nice entertainment in the city, you - started for home and opened your package on the train and found a lead - junk and a letter advising you to go home and keep still and never believe - strangers again.” - </p> - <p> - “That letter—that insult!” he gasped. - </p> - <p> - “They told you they were starting straight for Europe, and they—” - </p> - <p> - “So that is what you were in the city for, eh? A blackleg—one of - them! Your brazen cheek—your flashy clothes—” - </p> - <p> - “No, Judge Kingsley, I never tried to sell gold bricks. But it came my way - to find out a lot about those fellows who do sell them.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, you flashy cheat!” he snarled. “You are like that other one! - Waistcoats like chromos! Tricked out with gewgaws—airs of a - peacock!” - </p> - <p> - That last word sent a thrill through me, put an idea into my head. - </p> - <p> - “Was he a big man, Judge Kingsley? Was his name Pratt?” - </p> - <p> - “No.” - </p> - <p> - “But he brought the gold! He claimed to be the partner. He had a smear - like grease across his cheek—a scar. He—” - </p> - <p> - “You seem to know your confederates very well, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “Judge Kingsley, you listen to me! I have never seen those men face to - face, but I have heard of them. I have heard of their tricks. I know how - they operate. I know a good many of their lurking-places. I have made it - my business to know!” I noted that he was still suspicious, and I put my - face close to his and lied with all the fervor that was in me. I needed - his confidence, I say. “I did work as a detective until the dirty mess of - crooks made me sick of the job. I can help you in this thing! Depend on - me! I’m going to help!” - </p> - <p> - “I have about given up belief in everything!” - </p> - <p> - “Give me your hand, sir, and promise me you’ll offer a good front to the - world. Nobody must guess that you’re in difficulties. As for the noises my - uncle is making, he has never said anything definite; he is merely making - threats. Everybody knows about his grudge and folks don’t take much stock - in him. If you keep a stiff upper lip nobody will guess.” - </p> - <p> - “But they all will <i>know</i> on the fifteenth of April.” - </p> - <p> - “If we can grab in ten thousand dollars before then—” - </p> - <p> - “Do you stand there, young man, and tell me you have the crazy idea that - you can pull any of my money back from those scoundrels?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, and more with it,” I returned, much more bold in my tone than I was - in my heart. But when I knew that I had the “Peacock” Pratt gang - identified—and probably had located Jeff Dawlin’s brother as the man - who planted the fraud, posing as the son, his usual rôle, certain wild - hopes and dizzy schemes went to whirling in my head. - </p> - <p> - “We ought to have three thousand in cash in a short time to—” - </p> - <p> - “A client—a widow is pressing me for money. It amounts to about that - sum,” he said, dolefully. - </p> - <p> - “Does she suspect—” - </p> - <p> - “No, no!” he snapped, irritably. “She is going to be married again, the - fool, and wants to hand it to her new husband.” He showed a flicker of - pride in the midst of his troubles. “There is nobody calling Zebulon - Kingsley a thief as yet, except himself and your uncle. <i>I</i> know that - I am and <i>he</i> suspects,” he added, bitterly. - </p> - <p> - “Then the woman must have her money, sir. We must keep everybody from even - suspecting for a time.” - </p> - <p> - I took both his hands in mine. He did need comfort and sympathy, even such - as I could offer him. - </p> - <p> - “I’m square with you, Judge Kingsley. I know how to find those men. I’ll - go after them. And I know you’ll do your part to help me. I only ask you - to buck up! Let nobody suspect!” - </p> - <p> - “I ought to doubt every man in the world after what I have been through! I - ought to doubt <i>you!</i> Why are you doing all this for me, sir?” he - demanded, and then I was glad it was dark there under the tree. I must - have revealed confusion aplenty. “I have never shown you any favors, young - man. It has been the other way. I never liked your breed.” - </p> - <p> - “I know that, Judge Kingsley, but—” I could not go any further at - the moment. - </p> - <p> - “Well?” - </p> - <p> - “You see,” I gulped, “when I was a little shaver you gave me a quarter and - I bought a catechism and studied it and—I guess—I’m quite sure—it - made a better boy, and—” - </p> - <p> - It wasn’t convincing, that talk wasn’t! He caught me up sharply: - </p> - <p> - “The truth isn’t in you, young Sidney!” - </p> - <p> - “You told me that once before. And it has been my ambition to show you - that you were wrong.” - </p> - <p> - “Bah! I know human nature too well to believe any such rot.” - </p> - <p> - “But you always stood up in Sunday-school, sir, and told us about - Christian charity and meekness and forgiveness. You believe in all that, - don’t you?” - </p> - <p> - “I have no confidence in you—not now!” - </p> - <p> - “Not when I’m trying to prove to you that I’m one of those practical - Christians?” - </p> - <p> - “Do not insult me with any more of that balderdash, sir!” - </p> - <p> - I had just as much of nasty temper as he had, and mine began to flare up - in me. I knew that my motives were all right, though I did not dare to - reveal them to him—and my innocence made me the more angry. - </p> - <p> - “You would have made a big hit with the good Samaritan when he came along - and offered his help after you had fallen among thieves,” I snapped. “I - reckon you have never practised any of the charity you have preached. I - have never preached, but I am practising! You don’t seem to recognize your - own religion when you see it acted out instead of being merely printed in - a book!” - </p> - <p> - “You’re a renegade, convicting yourself out of your own mouth!” - </p> - <p> - Oh, what was the use! I walked off a little way. Then I turned on him. - </p> - <p> - “I have my own reasons for wanting to help you, Judge Kingsley, no matter - what you believe about me. But if you feel as you talk, you can go to - blazes just as soon as you like. I’m not going to try to round up all the - revolvers, ropes, and razors in this town. That rope you have there seems - to be a good strong one. Go as far as you like! And I’ll keep on in <i>my</i> - way and will turn the money over to your estate—to your wife and - your daughter. You are not the first coward who has knocked out the last - prop and sluiced all the mess on to his women folks! Go on! I’ll be - furnishing your wife bread and butter while you’re having insomnia in - hell!” - </p> - <p> - Then I went back to the tavern. - </p> - <p> - I knew well enough that Zebulon Kingsley would not kill himself that - night. In the first place, he was too mad. He came behind me, chattering - his teeth like an angry squirrel. Then, again, I had stirred his - curiosity, even if I had not given him any special hope. And my threat - about handling his money after he had gone was enough to keep Zebulon - Kingsley hanging around on top of the earth for a time. I knew his nature - mighty well. I would have taken those means with him at first, but I had - been hoping that he would accept me on a friendlier basis where I might - coddle my hopes; and here was I handling him by the scruff of the neck! - </p> - <p> - I caught a glimpse of Celene through the sitting-room window when I passed - the house. The light was behind her and her hair was like an angel’s halo. - Ah! there was the inspiration which was keeping me on the lunatic’s job I - had picked out for myself! As for that old hornbeam father, I was in a - state of fury which prompted me to go back, use his ears for handles, and - kick him around his premises until he promised to behave himself—and - give me his daughter when my task was finished. Well, at least I had - reached one interesting stage in my development—I was acting as - guardian of the high and mighty Zebulon Kingsley and was rather despising - my ward! - </p> - <p> - That evening I sat till late and went through my notebook and studied the - affiliations, the methods, the lurking-places and all other information I - had recorded in regard to one “Peacock” Pratt and his associates. - </p> - <p> - It seemed to me that I had a pretty good start on the thing, even though - the future was, as Jodrey Vose used to say of dock water, in a “nebulous - and gummy condition.” - </p> - <p> - But I went to bed, nevertheless, in a considerably exalted state of mind. - With every day that passed I was getting farther into the affairs of the - Kingsley family—and getting into those affairs— - </p> - <p> - I dreamed of Celene that night, but that was not a matter for special - record; I dreamed of her every night. - </p> - <p> - In the morning I put on a business suit I had bought “off the pile” in - Mechanicsville. I had wanted to show Levant that I had more than one suit - of clothes. I reckoned that I would feel more sane and solid in that suit. - And I did feel that way when I went down to breakfast. If ever a man had - business ahead of him I was that one! - </p> - <p> - But that sane and normal feeling did not sit well on my conscience. I - found myself brooding and getting depressed. I wondered why I had felt so - exalted and optimistic the night before. How could I have made such - confident promises to Kingsley? - </p> - <p> - While I sawed at that prosaic hunk o’ ham the notion of chasing up those - knaves and getting my clutch on that stolen money—or any other money—seemed - just a hopeless dream. It was surely a crazy idea; I sat there and looked - down into my plate and so decided. For all of a quarter-hour I mulled and - gloomed there, wondering what had happened to make me so dull and - disheartened and doped. I woke up to what the matter was—woke all of - a sudden. It was that blamed ready-made suit of clothes! - </p> - <p> - I was simply plain Ross Sidney! I was right down on the plane of all the - men around me. I looked like a tank-town commercial drummer and felt like - one. I had no more imagination or horizon than a grocery clerk. All the - fantastic spirit of adventure had gone out of me. Perhaps it may be - thought that mere clothes cannot do all that to a man! Well, wear overalls - to the next grand ball! I’m no psychologist and I have never read - Carlyle’s essay on clothes, though I am told he describes about what I - have felt. I’m merely saying this: when I realized what was the matter - with me and felt certain that I needed to be comfortably crazy in order to - keep up my dip—why, do you suppose I would ever have tried to bark - in front of that show if I had been dressed in a sack-suit? - </p> - <p> - Yes, comfortably crazy! - </p> - <p> - I rushed, up-stairs and shifted to my knight-errant regalia. Then I went - to my job on the run. I reckoned that I was going to be in a devil of a - hurry for a while! - </p> - <p> - I galloped down to the wood-lot, my plug-hat riding tilted back like the - funnel of a racing steamer. Those choppers were hearty and happy and were - hustling for that bonus; if a few laggards needed pep I injected it. I - made estimates, got every hitch in Levant which would cart wood and drag - timber and started the cut for the railroad. - </p> - <p> - The freight-trains picked up the gondola cars as they were ready. - </p> - <p> - I rushed to the cities and arranged for deliveries, pulled down first - payments in good season to settle wages for a week, as agreed with Henshaw - Hook, and shuttled back and forth until all the cut was cleaned up on the - lot. Gad! how I was counting days! I did not waste any time on Judge - Kingsley. I realized that the more I kept away from him, the more I kept - him guessing! - </p> - <p> - I grabbed my first opportunity to take a day off the job and run down to - the big city; I made that jump from one of the towns where I was handling - the last deliveries—for I could not make final collections until the - railroad completed its haul, and so I had a little time to spare. - </p> - <p> - There was another barker at the door of Dawlin’s place, and I noted with - gratification that he was a rather seedy chap. The blonde looked acutely - surprised and showed apprehension when I walked right in past her. - Plainly, her man had been making some promises as to what he would do to - me if I ever showed up again. - </p> - <p> - And the first glance Dawlin gave me when he looked up from his gazara - envelopes showed that he was quite ready to keep his promises. - </p> - <p> - I beckoned him to his office and walked in there and waited for him. He - came on the jump. He was at me almost before I had time to place my - plug-hat out of the way of possible damage. - </p> - <p> - When Mr. Dawlin would close a gazara game right at a moment when suckers - were shoving money at him, it was proof that he was specially interested - in something else which was almighty important. His language when he burst - in on me made it plain that his interest in me was not flattering, though - it was intense. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, if it’s that little, foolish, petty matter of the few dollars you - handed back to those yaps,” I broke in, after I had pushed him back with a - swoop of my arm—and, as I have stated, it was a hard arm—“here’s - your small change.” - </p> - <p> - In my wood business I had promptly changed checks into cash. I pulled out - before the lustful eyes of Mr. Dawlin a roll of bills big enough to make a - pillow for his Mormon Giant, and I carelessly flipped the edges to show - him they were yellowbacks. - </p> - <p> - “What did the little matter amount to?” I asked, airily. - </p> - <p> - “Six and twenty-two fifty—and I tossed ’em a five,” he said, - trying to make a quick shift from passion to pacification. - </p> - <p> - “And I guess the drinks are on me this time, Jeff,” I said, adding a - ten-dollar bill to the amount. “Go buy the kind you like.” - </p> - <p> - “But what in—” - </p> - <p> - “This tells all the story,” I said, tapping the roll and stuffing it back. - </p> - <p> - “But your partners—leaving me in the lurch—not inviting me in - for a drag—” - </p> - <p> - “It had to be a lone play, Jeff—just had to be! But don’t think I - have all the money in the world cornered in my pocket, even if it looks - like it. And I’m not back here simply to give you a treat by letting you - look at it. I have located a bigger bundle—but it can’t be coopered - by a lone play.” - </p> - <p> - “Job for the gang, hey?” he asked, almost drooling. - </p> - <p> - “Well, for the right operators if they’re the real goods. But no amateurs, - you know!” - </p> - <p> - “Condemn it! I have told you about my brother. He’s one of the best in the - country! Has just pulled off a killing—not very big, but easy and - profitable.” - </p> - <p> - “Where?” - </p> - <p> - “Nothing doing on the where!” replied Mr. Dawlin, warily. “That’s all done - and the money counted. We always forget <i>where</i> as soon as the money - is counted.” He fingered his nose. “Where is—” he started. - </p> - <p> - “Same tag,” I said, smartly. “You forget and I don’t remember. All is, - it’s there waiting. Can we all get together?” - </p> - <p> - “When?” - </p> - <p> - “To-day.” - </p> - <p> - “Blast it all! you ought to know that we can’t all get together to-day—nor - a week from to-day!” He showed some suspicion. - </p> - <p> - “Why should I know that?” I looked him in the eye. “When a job is done - East, why, you know yourself they all shoot West—clear to the—” - </p> - <p> - “You didn’t tell me the last job was done East,” I said, coolly. - </p> - <p> - “Well, it was. I can say that much. And they’re on their way West—they’re - going over the Rockies.” - </p> - <p> - “Then I guess I’ll declare them out on the job, Jeff. I’m in with some of - the other—” - </p> - <p> - “But that’s no way to use a friend like I’ve been to you! This thing ought - to be put up to Ike and ‘Peacock.’ You must remember that I offered you a - lay with them! I tried to use you right. You ought to show some - gratitude.” - </p> - <p> - He was fairly whining in his anxiety, but I was mighty careful about - showing any eagerness of my own. I scratched my ear and looked rather - doubtful and displayed indifference. - </p> - <p> - “Of course I can’t write to ’em—we never write, especially - soon after a job. But I have their bearings, Ross. I can put you right on - to their trail. They have a job on below the Potlatch country in Idaho. - First East and then West—get the idea? It’s something about land—this - operation. You’re bound to bump into ’em; there are not so many men - out there as there are here.” - </p> - <p> - “Still, it looks to me like a wild-goose chase,” I demurred, hoping to be - assured that it was no such thing. - </p> - <p> - “‘Peacock’ isn’t going to change his style! He’s too far away to be - obliged to bother—and he sure does like his togs! You can’t hide - ‘Peacock’ Pratt if you surround him with a whole county. You’ll find him - easy, and my brother will be right on the wheel. Wait! If you don’t know - that country I’ll jot down directions and names for you—names of men - to ask. I’ll give you a word or two for a passport!” He grabbed paper and - pen and began to scribble. “What extra the trip costs will be added to - your lay. You’ll find them square if you get in with them,” he assured me - while he wrote. “You don’t have to discuss any lay for me. My brother - always sees to it that I get my pickings from any job I help him to.” - </p> - <p> - He fairly thrust the paper into my hands when he had finished. Really, I - was more grateful inside than I allowed to appear in my thanks. I could - hardly ask Mr. Dawlin to do more in setting me on the trail of the men I - was after. The humor of the thing certainly did appeal to me—and I - needed a little something for cheer just then. - </p> - <p> - Whether I would try to pick their pockets when I arrived up with them, or - knock them down with a dub, or what I would do I left to the future. I had - enough to think of just then—that wood business to wind up and the - matter of the future handling of Zebulon Kingsley to attend to—and a - crazy chase across the continent ahead of me! - </p> - <p> - I tucked the paper deep, slapped Mr. Dawlin on the back, and hustled for - up-country. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - XVI—GRABBING A HUSBAND AND FATHER - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>HEN I laid rising - three thousand dollars in front of Zebulon Kingsley on his office table as - my card of reintroduction to that glum gentleman, I really jumped him. - </p> - <p> - The money was in bills and there was a stack of it. A mere check would not - have been half as impressive. A lot of men in this world are extravagant - because they pay by check; handling real money makes one more appreciative - of values, I think. - </p> - <p> - “I have wound up the wood-lot proposition to the last cent,” I informed - him. “All collections made, all the men paid, and I hope you are as well - satisfied as the rest. There’s the cash!” - </p> - <p> - “How much is there?” His voice trembled when he asked me. - </p> - <p> - “Count it.” - </p> - <p> - “I’ll take your word, and later—” - </p> - <p> - “You have told-me several times that the truth isn’t in me. Count that - money! I insist!” A bit nasty of me, I admit, but I had resolved to make - my bigness, where Judge Kingsley was concerned. I saw no chance of winning - unless I made him understand that I was not to be kicked around any more. - </p> - <p> - I stood over him while he counted. His bony fingers shook. Even though he - was handling money—rather a favorite indoor sport of his—I - knew he was finding the job a bitter one, with me at his elbow and acting - just as if I belonged there. He jotted down amounts as he counted, and - then he added the figures. - </p> - <p> - “I make it three thousand three hundred and fifty four dollars and - twenty-nine cents,” he reported. - </p> - <p> - “You are right, sir.” I held my little account-book in front of his nose - and tapped my totals. “I did a bit better than I figured.” - </p> - <p> - “The two thousand which belongs to me—” - </p> - <p> - “There are no divisions in that pile, sir. We are not going to have any - such argument as we had once before about price and land and deed. You - need that money for immediate use and you’re going to take it. And don’t - tell me again that you don’t need my help. You do!” Big talk, but he - needed it! “But don’t you be afraid that I shall ever twit you about this - help. Now is there any way of staving off this widow who wants her three - thousand?” - </p> - <p> - “No! I have promised her. After what you told me—I reckoned on—” - </p> - <p> - “Ah! Then you have been admitting to yourself the last few days that I’m - not so much of a renegade and crook, after all!” - </p> - <p> - His eyes shifted. “You must make allowances in my case, Mr. Sidney!” That - looked promising. He was giving me a handle for my name. - </p> - <p> - “Then we’ll pay the widow so that she will not be wagging her jaw while - we’re away.” - </p> - <p> - “While we’re away?” he repeated. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir! You and I are going to start on the trail of that last batch of - money you invested.” - </p> - <p> - “But we’ll never get money that way.” - </p> - <p> - “How else are you going to raise ten thousand dollars before the fifteenth - of April?” - </p> - <p> - “I have no way of raising it!” he lamented. - </p> - <p> - “That’s it! No sensible, business way! Therefore, we must do the next best—grab - from the men who have grabbed from you. It’s either that or go steal - money!” - </p> - <p> - I pulled up to the table and before his eyes counted back to myself the - money over and above three thousand dollars. I put it in my pocket. - </p> - <p> - “It’s our common purse—for traveling expenses,” I explained. - </p> - <p> - “But it’s—” he gasped. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, it’s a long journey, sir. However, I must go and you must go along - with me.” - </p> - <p> - “I am not in condition to travel.” - </p> - <p> - “I know that, sir, and I’m sorry. I wish I did not need you on the job, - but you must be with me in order to identify those men who robbed you. - Your complaint will put them in the jug if we can’t scare them and twist - the money out of them in another way. I can’t do a thing without your - presence, unless I catch up with them and knock them down. I may just as - well stay East here and commit highway robbery for you!” - </p> - <p> - I had another reason for insisting on his making the trip with me, but I - kept it to myself. If I left him behind there in Levant with my - rambunctious uncle barking at his heels and creditors waking up to - suspicions, I could not have one moment’s peace of mind. I felt pretty - sure that he would betray himself by face, his actions, or by suicide or - confession. He was in no shape to endure inquisition if he were left where - folks could get at him. - </p> - <p> - “You must go,” I insisted. - </p> - <p> - “Where?” - </p> - <p> - “It’s more or less of a blind run.” - </p> - <p> - “But I must know.” - </p> - <p> - “We’re only wasting time by talking it over ahead, Judge Kingsley, because - I don’t know much about the trip myself.” - </p> - <p> - He began to show temper, and I could not blame him much. My comfortable - craziness which I had put on along with my “dream suit” was helping a lot; - the judge was frostily sane. - </p> - <p> - “The project is crazy,” he stormed. - </p> - <p> - “So is the fix you’re in!” - </p> - <p> - “I can tell my wife and daughter nothing sensible!” - </p> - <p> - “As near as I can find out, sir, you have never told them anything special - about your business. Why begin now?” - </p> - <p> - “Because they are worried. My actions—those strangers—” - </p> - <p> - “I know, sir. They told me. But when you go away this time you’ll be going - in my company and that may help with them.” - </p> - <p> - He gave me a look which hinted that he was not at all sure about that. - </p> - <p> - “We have been in one business deal; it’s easy to say we’re in another,” I - suggested, choosing to overlook his manner. - </p> - <p> - But my feelings got away from me when he began to protest and argue and - ask questions about why and where and when. The balky old mule! And I was - giving him my soul and service free! - </p> - <p> - I pounded my knuckles on the heaped money. “We are going to leave this - town on the night train, Judge Kingsley. That gives you time enough to - settle with the widow and tell your folks something and get them calmed - down.” - </p> - <p> - “Don’t you dare to browbeat me, young man!” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, and you’ll have time to think the thing over for yourself, sir, - before I call for you with a hitch just before train-time! There will be - no arguments then. I shall expect you to be all ready with your bag in - hand. Go light on luggage. We shall go a long way and we shall go in a - hurry.” - </p> - <p> - I left him and went about a few final affairs of my own, and when I - finished I was squared with everybody in Levant. Before handing that money - to the judge I had paid my personal debts—I felt that I was entitled - to that much! - </p> - <p> - That evening Dodovah Vose loaned me a hitch and a driver and clapped me on - the shoulder with great zest and pride. - </p> - <p> - “When the judge picked you for a partner he picked the right one,” he - declared. “You make a team which will bring this old town up on its feet. - The judge needs you, son. He has been going behind.” - </p> - <p> - And then once more he tried to pump me regarding this latest venture, for - I had purposely dropped a word to him that the judge and I were off on a - big deal. I knew that a seed planted in Dodovah Vose would bring forth - fruit of the sort the judge and I needed. - </p> - <p> - “You can just hint to folks, if you feel like it, Mr. Vose, that Judge - Kingsley and I have seen a way to help this town very much.” That was - true. “Incidentally, the judge will make a great deal of money out of - certain things where his capital has been tied up.” - </p> - <p> - “I’ve always said he knew his business as a financier. Some of the old - tom-cats in this town have been prowling and meraouwing because he has - been tied up lately by mortgages; but you’ve got to bait with money to - catch money! Don’t fret, son. I’ll hand ’em out something now to - warm their ear-wax.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, he knows how to make money for himself and for other folks!” - </p> - <p> - “Am I too late to slip in a few hundred on this deal?” asked Mr. Vose, - anxiously. - </p> - <p> - It was promptly on my tongue, of course, to put him aside as gently as - possible. But I knew that he had been wondering why I had not let him in - on the thing before, for truly he had been my best friend in that town. I - had no good excuse to give him. I needed his friendship and his loyal good - word even more then than in the past, for suspicion was darkly brooding in - Levant. I hated to leave behind with him the impression that I would do - everything for Zebulon Kingsley, who had been my foe, and would not turn - even a little leak of prosperity into an old friend’s porringer. - </p> - <p> - While I was struggling with my thoughts—feeling like a scoundrel - reaching for his brother’s wallet—a strange notion came to me. It - fitted in with that comfortable craziness of mine. If I accepted his - money, would I not be pledging my very soul to do and to dare? My devotion - to Celene Kingsley I had set at one side as my true and sacred motive. I - was mighty sure that I was not at all enthusiastic in regard to her - father. However, if I took Dodovah Vose’s hard-earned money from his hands—and - taking it meant a pledge that he was to benefit from a sure thing—had - I not another sacred and even more compelling motive? Truly I had, for my - man’s honor was concerned as well as my love for a girl! - </p> - <p> - “What have you handy?” I asked. - </p> - <p> - “Five hundred,” he said. “I ask no questions. I want no promises. I know - you’ll do your best for me, son. I hate to bother you—but profits - come slow in a country tavern, and I’d like to do a little extra repairing - this spring.” - </p> - <p> - He was on his way to his rusty old safe while he talked. - </p> - <p> - So I took his money and went away from him with the warmth of his palm on - mine. - </p> - <p> - The grinding of the wagon-wheels on the grit in front of Judge Kingsley’s - house brought Celene to the door, and when I did not climb down from the - wagon she called to me. - </p> - <p> - “Will you not come into the house?” she pleaded. I had not intended to do - so. In spite of my longing to see her and to have her parting smile go - along with me on that amazing journey I was undertaking, I had made up my - mind to duck judiciously a meeting-up with the women folks of my traveling - partner. But I had no will to disobey when she called to me. I found the - judge with his overcoat on and his bag in his hand. Evidently he had - thought the matter over! But he did not look like a bridegroom starting on - a honeymoon trip, and he scowled at me with as much ferocity as if we were - two tom-cats tied by the tails over a clothes-line. - </p> - <p> - His wife was hanging to his arm and she was white, even to her lips. - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Sidney, I must know what this mysterious business is.” - </p> - <p> - “I’m sure the judge will tell you what is necessary.” - </p> - <p> - “He will tell me nothing. I have endured much in the past, Zebulon! I have - not asked to know much about your affairs,” she went on, trying to get a - square look into his eyes. “This time I <i>must</i> know!” - </p> - <p> - “I have told you!” From his tone it was hard to tell what his emotions - were. The words sounded as if somebody were talking into a tin spout a - long way off. - </p> - <p> - “You have told me nothing except that you are going! You do not say where. - You have not told me when you are coming back.” - </p> - <p> - “We don’t exactly know, Mrs. Kingsley. But I assure you that the trip is - very necessary,” I put in. - </p> - <p> - “I must tell you that mother is not well,” said Celene, wistfully. “I’m - sure everything is all right, but we must know where you are going so that - we may be in touch with you.” - </p> - <p> - “We can keep you posted—when we know where we are,” I said; but I - did not sound very convincing, I fear. God knows, I wanted to put my arms - around her and comfort her and tell her that I was madly trying to save - her, her home, her mother, and her father from disgrace and ruin. I guess - no man has ever figured out beyond doubt whether it’s better to tell the - woman everything or to hide trouble as long as possible. When women are - proud they never forget the disgrace, whether it is revealed outside or if - it’s merely kept secret in the household. And in Zebulon Kingsley’s case I - was proposing to keep the effect of the disgrace as well as all knowledge - of it away from those women. - </p> - <p> - I knew how he felt in the matter! He had chosen revolvers and ropes rather - than face them. I was determined to be just as resolute as he—until - a show-down was inevitable. - </p> - <p> - It would be a sorry triumph, a half job, if they were obliged to live out - their lives knowing that the master of the household had lived for years - in the shadow of prison; it meant the wrecking of all their pride and - ideals—no more joy in home or life itself in the case of such women - as they. I understood! - </p> - <p> - The big dock was ticking off minutes rapidly. Our time was short. I - shuffled my feet, impatiently wishing that Judge Kingsley would hurry up. - His woe-begone, frozen face was making the thing worse every minute he - stayed there. - </p> - <p> - “There is mystery here,” insisted his wife. “There should be no mystery - about business that’s honest!” - </p> - <p> - “You surely can tell us something to comfort us before you go,” urged - Celene, coming dose to me, pleading with her eyes. - </p> - <p> - But I knew I must stay away from the edges of explanation in her presence; - once I got started, I’d be sure to tumble into a mess. I looked over her - head. - </p> - <p> - “We must hurry, Judge!” I warned. - </p> - <p> - “I know that my husband would never go into any business that isn’t - honest,” declared Mrs. Kingsley, beginning to show temper. She faced me - and her eyes glittered. “But he is growing old, and his judgment may not - be what it was. There are always men trying to lead others into trouble.” - </p> - <p> - “That’s so,” I admitted. - </p> - <p> - “Forgive mother if she says anything harsh! But we are in such a state of - mind!” - </p> - <p> - Well, so was I! - </p> - <p> - “I have mortgaged the home over my head,” cried Mrs. Kingsley. “I have - given the money to my husband willingly—but I will not allow thieves - to waste it!” - </p> - <p> - It was about time for me to assert myself a little. The judge was merely - working his mouth like a dying fish, and it was plain that he could be no - help. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t blame your mother,” I told the girl. I took her hands in mine, - glad I could carry away the memory of her touch. “Some of those men who - have been hanging around the judge are not good men, but I was born in - this town and you know me! I’m helping your father in an important matter. - I swear I’m telling the truth. And I’ll bring him back safe and sound.” - </p> - <p> - I left her before I should be tempted to kiss her right before their eyes, - and I took the judge’s bag in one hand and boosted him along with a clutch - on his arm. - </p> - <p> - “We simply must catch that train!” I urged. - </p> - <p> - It was a sad scene for a few moments. I was obliged fairly to tussle with - that woman for the possession of the old man. But I ran him out and left - the mother sobbing in the daughter’s arms, and they were in the doorway - when I helped the judge into the wagon. - </p> - <p> - “Brace up!” I whispered. “Give ’em just a word or two.” - </p> - <p> - “I’m all right,” he quavered. “It’s only business! It must be attended to. - There’s nothing to fret about!” - </p> - <p> - Wasn’t, eh? - </p> - <p> - “Lick up!” I told the driver. “Lay on the braid!” - </p> - <p> - We went rattling out of Levant behind a galloping horse and I liked the - sensation of that haste. We were chasing ten thousand dollars and had less - than twenty days for the job. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - XVII—MONEY HAS LEGS - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>E swapped not a - word on the way to the railroad. - </p> - <p> - The judge seemed to be settled down into a sort of numb condition, and I - was glad of it, for I did not feel like talking. He stood indifferently at - one side when I bought tickets, and I was glad of that also. If I was to - be purser and general manager of that expedition I did not want to have a - joint debate every time I made a move. - </p> - <p> - My first tickets took us to a junction point. Then I bought to Chicago. - </p> - <p> - The judge went along silently, showing about as much interest as a mummy - in me, or in the scenery or people. I suppose the old fellow was having a - terrible struggle with his fears, his thoughts, and his recollection of - the manner in which he had parted from his family. I sympathized with him - and left him alone. Once in a while I got a side-glance from him which - suggested that he had not abandoned his distrust of me. Perhaps he - pondered that he was simply submitting to another form of self-destruction - and was willing to let it go at that! - </p> - <p> - I’ll confess this: I was taking so much interest in the world about me - that I was finding it hard to concentrate my thoughts on the business we - had in hand. I had done no railroad-riding to speak of till then. It - seemed as unreal as if I were headed for the moon instead of into the far - vastness of my native land. When we went rolling through the smoky fringes - of Chicago and I saw that there really was a Chicago, my emotion, as I - remember it, was astonishment. But I had already found out that a - greenhorn could get along pretty well by watching other folks and by - asking questions. - </p> - <p> - So we crowded into the transfer-wagon on Polk Street and were quickly - across the city to another railroad station, where I bought tickets for - St. Paul. Before the train pulled out I raided a folder-stand and grabbed - a sample of everything in the rack. - </p> - <p> - I went into those folders like a girl diving into the love scenes in a - mush novel; I studied as diligently as if I were a prize pupil getting - ready for a contest. I had my nose in those papers for hours, till I could - close my eyes and see maps and repeat time-tables and names of cities - backward. - </p> - <p> - So I wasn’t at a loss when we reached St. Paul. I trotted the judge right - along to a window and bought tickets for Spokane. He was mumbling a - monotone of growls in my ear while I counted out the money. - </p> - <p> - “Look here, young man,” he said, when we had left the window, “I am not - going to be teamed any farther until you tell me exactly where you are - going and what you are intending to do.” - </p> - <p> - It rather surprised me to hear him speak; I had sort of forgotten that he - could talk. - </p> - <p> - “Do you pretend that you expect to get money, racing around like this?” - </p> - <p> - “I’m on the trail of it, Judge Kingsley—your money, you remember. - I’m not doing this for my own amusement.” - </p> - <p> - “You seem to be; I’ve been watching you, sir. You are plainly relishing - this junketing about. I go no farther.” - </p> - <p> - “How much money have you in your pocket?” I asked, mildly. - </p> - <p> - He looked alarmed. “I did not bring money! You took the money for - expenses, you said. I depended on that. I have only a few dollars.” - </p> - <p> - “That’s good,” I told him. “So there’s no chance for argument here on this - platform.” I waved the tickets under his nose. “I reckon you’ll have to - stick right along with me, sir, wherever I go.” - </p> - <p> - That settled that rebellion! - </p> - <p> - When I started toward the train he followed. His face was white, his jaws - were ridged, and he was furious—but his anger locked his lips. He - did not bother me with questions. That night I hid my money inside my - berth-pillow; by the way the judge looked at me I knew he would pick my - pocket if he got a chance. - </p> - <p> - On we went across the prairies of the Dakotas—and the journey was - not interesting. It was all dun and dull and brown and monotonous in that - late March. When the sun shone it only showed up more of the raw country. - Every little while we went plunging through a snow-squall which plastered - the car windows and speckled the brown of the prairie. - </p> - <p> - Then the doldrums got me! All at once I found myself bluer than the old - judge had been, even in his deepest despondency. This was a reckless - escapade, not a sensible man’s project! I had bragged and blustered and - made promises there in that little tin dipper of a Levant where the - horizon was pinched in by Mitchell’s Mountain and Tumbledick Hill. I had - got by with my bluff in the wood-lot game and had felt as if I were a big - man! - </p> - <p> - But out there! - </p> - <p> - No longer was it a string of mere names and a smudge of color on paper to - make a map! I was looking out, hour by hour, on the reality of the - vastness of the great West. As to the men I was hunting for in that wide - expanse—those fly-by-nighters, those human skip-bugs—would - they not be dodging where impulse took them? Jeff Dawlin was a mere - gambler—willing to take a chance on anything. Had he not taken a - mere gambler’s chance on my finding those men? If I succeeded he would get - his pay. If I did not succeed it was only <i>my</i> failure—he had - invested nothing—he had no interest in my affairs, except a - gambler’s. - </p> - <p> - And what could I do to those men if I did find them? They were at home out - there—as much at home as they were in the East. The farther out on - those prairies I rolled, the farther away from all confidence in myself I - seemed to be. Old Ariock Blake used to say that sometimes he felt as if he - were “forty miles from water and a hundred miles from land.” I felt just - as helplessly up in the air as that! I fairly wallowed in sloppy gloom. - </p> - <p> - To sit there in front of Zebulon Kingsley in my state of mind and courage - and look on his gad-awful sourness of visage was too much for my nerves. - </p> - <p> - I went to get a drink of water and heard men laughing in the smoking-room. - If there were men in the world who could laugh I wanted to be with them. - So I went in. They were playing poker, and after a time one man had to - leave the train and they asked me into the game. - </p> - <p> - I was desperate enough to grab at anything that would take my mind off my - troubles, so I began to play poker. And when a man sits in to play poker - with strangers it’s a mighty small slice of mind he has left to blotter - worry with. - </p> - <p> - I was away from the judge a long time, and he came hunting me up and - caught me at the pastime. Perhaps he feared that his two-legged bank had - fallen off the train and he had been worrying; but when he saw me with - cards in my hand and money spread out he had a lot more to worry about and - his face showed it. He let out of him a sort of moan and went away. - </p> - <p> - “Your father?” asked one of the men, casually. “Sick?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” I said. “I mean he’s sick, but he’s not my father. He is a big - Eastern capitalist I’m escorting West on business.” - </p> - <p> - “Put me next—I can offer him some great chances,” said another man. - </p> - <p> - “I’m afraid he is feeling too bad to talk business—and he is very - notional in the matter of strangers. Don’t say anything to him; leave it - to me.” I was obliged to say something about the judge and to block them - from bothering him, if I could, for I knew he would not be contented with - one inspection of me at my devilish and dangerous occupation. “Don’t pay - any attention to his actions,” I advised. “He’s feeling mighty sick—a - long ride makes him sort of seasick.” - </p> - <p> - I was glad I had planted something with the men, for the judge kept coming - and sticking his head between the curtains and making strange noises. He - went at me in good earnest when he had me at table in the dining-car. - </p> - <p> - “How dare you throw away my money on gamblers?” - </p> - <p> - “I haven’t done so, Judge Kingsley.” - </p> - <p> - “I saw you doing it in that dirty den of smoke and vice.” - </p> - <p> - “You saw me playing cards, I’ll admit. I had to do something to keep from - going crazy.” - </p> - <p> - “Tossing away my money! Gambling my dollars—” - </p> - <p> - “Just a moment, sir! That money is a part of my profits and I consider it - a common pot for both of us. I know how to play poker. I have added - forty-five dollars to it.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you boast that you have been cheating at cards to help <i>me?</i>” - </p> - <p> - Confound him! he could sting a man with that tongue of his! - </p> - <p> - “A man can play poker without cheating. Just as a man can do business - without cheating!” - </p> - <p> - I looked him in the eye and he shut up. I had found out that I could get - along with him better when he didn’t talk. After the meal I went back to - the game. I felt that every little helped, provided I could hold my own. - </p> - <p> - I couldn’t resist a quiet chuckle inside when I reflected that I was - industriously playing cards for the benefit of Judge Zebulon Kingsley, - Sunday-school superintendent of Levant. - </p> - <p> - I had learned long before how to watch out in a card game, and when I felt - little scratches on the backs of the cards and observed that one of the - players was doing the gouge act with a specially manicured finger-nail, I - turned a few tricks of my own. I felt the full humor of the thing when I - calmed my conscience with the thought that it was all for the sake of the - judge. When he came to the curtains and glared at me I grinned at him. - </p> - <p> - I cleaned up one hundred and fifteen dollars, at any rate, before we - rolled into Spokane—and I had at least five hundred dollars’ worth - of respite from my bitter misgivings. When I showed that tainted money to - the judge with some little pride and impelled by a spirit of devilishness - I couldn’t control, I thought for a moment that he would bite me. - </p> - <p> - “I’m not going to associate any longer with a scalawag. I’m not going to - be bullyragged by a scoundrel!” - </p> - <p> - “However, when we’re roaming we’ve got to do as the roamers do,” I told - him. Deep in me I was ashamed of the disrespect I was showing him by - plaguing him in that fashion, but I felt an almost irresistible hankering - to do it; he had so long lorded it in Levant. Furthermore, he did not seem - to recognize in any manner my spirit of self-sacrifice; he had not shown - to me one flash of wholehearted gratitude. I may have had a cloudy notion - that he needed to have his spirit of Kingsley pride humbled before he - would ever consider me as a likely son-in-law. My ideas then and the - memories of my ideas now are not very clear, for I was not in any very - calm and philosophic mood those days. - </p> - <p> - After a carriage had snatched us across Spokane and we were landed on the - platform of a station from which trains for the Idaho country departed, he - did buck in good earnest. - </p> - <p> - He was a man of plan and method; he had passed his life in routine. That - rattle-brained gallop must have offended every instinct in him. - </p> - <p> - “I’ll not get on that train. I’ll go no farther. I’ll appeal to the - police,” he raved. “Give me my share of that money and I’ll go home.” - </p> - <p> - “I have mixed it all together—gambling money and all! I would not - have you traveling on gambling money, Judge.” My pertness added to his - anger. - </p> - <p> - “I’ll have you arrested, so help me—” - </p> - <p> - “Hold on before you put the binding word to that oath, Judge Kingsley. If - you dare to put me in the jug away out here away from home, I’ll yank you - in as an embezzler of town money—and I’ve got an uncle who is first - selectman of the town! A little telegraphing will do the trick. Now let’s - both of us throw away our bombs. The fuses are sizzling! Climb aboard.” - </p> - <p> - He ground his teeth and climbed! - </p> - <p> - A fine sort of a brindled, cross-eyed hen was I setting to hatch my - son-in-law hopes! But a mood of recklessness was sweeping me then. - </p> - <p> - I did not buy tickets; I paid cash fares to the conductor, naming a - station I culled from the folder. I was not sure what the limits of the - Potlatch country were; I proposed to drop in with somebody on the train, - if I could manage it discreetly, and post myself by asking questions. - </p> - <p> - I saw no likely subjects in the car where we were riding—the - passengers were mostly women—so I slicked up my silk hat, fixed it - at a confident and compelling angle, and went out into the smoking-car. - </p> - <p> - As I have just said, the spirit of recklessness was flaming in me. I did - not dare to let it die down. I lashed my courage and my craziness both - together. I was bitterly afraid I might drop back into that paralyzing - despondency I had felt back there on the Dakota prairies. That meant that - I would become a useless quitter. Only by dint of holding myself in that - desperate mood where I proposed to let chance have its way with me, and to - grab in on anything that offered, would I have gone through so brazenly - with the affair on which I soon found myself entering. It was merely - another gamble, it seemed to me after I was in it. It was taking my mind - off my more private affairs, even as the poker game had distracted my - attention. - </p> - <p> - I marched through to the front of the smoking-car where the train-boy was - arranging his little stock, bought a paper, and walked slowly back up the - aisle with a glance to right and left at the faces of the men, hoping to - get a rise from that “likely subject” I was hunting for. - </p> - <p> - One man returned my glance with interest. - </p> - <p> - After I sat down, well up in the car, I looked over the top of the - newspaper and saw that the stranger’s interest in me continued. The chap - had a broad face, liquor-mottled. After a while he unscrewed the top of a - flask and sucked in a long drink. Then he worked his shoulders, jerked at - the bottom of his waistcoat, wriggled his arms, and displayed other - symptoms of a man who is trying to brace up and to pull himself together. - At last he derricked himself out of his seat and swayed up the car aisle. - He divided glances between my plug-hat and the frock-coat. - </p> - <p> - “Excuse me, but it’s the clothes,” said the stranger. - </p> - <p> - I nodded amiably. - </p> - <p> - “I wouldn’t butt in and speak to you if it wasn’t for the clothes.” - </p> - <p> - Once more I was having it impressed on me that a plug-hat and a frock-coat - seemed to be good reliable openers in the jack-pot of chance. I reckoned - I’d play the hand. - </p> - <p> - “You’re not a parson.” - </p> - <p> - “I’m far from it, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “The farthest from it I know is to be a lawyer. I spotted you for a - lawyer. If you are one I want to talk with you.” - </p> - <p> - “I’m a lawyer. Sit down,” was my cheerful lie. - </p> - <p> - The stranger hauled out his flask. “Do you ever indulge?” - </p> - <p> - “No.” - </p> - <p> - “So much the better. Lawyers ought to keep their brains cool. Seeing that - you’ve got the brains and propose to keep ’em cool, I’ve got to - keep up my nerve—and so I’ll take a drink.” He sucked at the flask - again. “Where do you live?” - </p> - <p> - “In the East.” - </p> - <p> - “Then you don’t know this country and the laws out in this section,” said - the stranger, showing his disappointment. - </p> - <p> - “Oh yes, I do; I used to live out here. That’s why I happen to be here - now. I’m investigating investments for Eastern capital.” - </p> - <p> - My new acquaintance leaned dose, so close that his whisky-saturated breath - left vapor on my cheeks. - </p> - <p> - “I have found out something that’s big. I thought I could handle it - myself. I have started out to handle it myself. But when I saw you I said - to myself, ‘There’s a squire, and he knows law and probably his brains are - cooler than mine.’ I’ve got the secret and I’ve got the grit, but I need - law, too—and I ain’t sure of all the fine points. I want you to come - along with me and stand at my back and hand me the fine points as I need - ’em. What do you charge per day for peddling law?” - </p> - <p> - “I’ll have to know what the deal is first.” - </p> - <p> - “Can’t tell you.” - </p> - <p> - I was getting a little shaky on the proposition and raised the paper in - front of my face and appeared to lose interest in matters of law. After a - time the red-faced individual tapped on the paper with his knuckle, as one - would tap on a door. I pulled my shield to one side. - </p> - <p> - “A chap hates to let go of a big thing to a stranger, even if that - stranger is a lawyer. I have walked past a dozen law-offices without - daring to go in. Perhaps you don’t realize what a big thing I’ve got. Now - listen here! Suppose you were a fellow like I am—a prospector—and - was digging around the record-books, looking up land titles, mineral - grants, and so forth, and got on to a trail that you followed up and found - that a new city had been laid out and lots sold off and buildings going - up, and all that—all on a location that wasn’t legal? Mind you, I - ain’t naming any place. But it’s on a section that land-grabbers got hold - of a long time ago. And they were such hungry land-grabbers that they - stretched lines to take in everything that was loose around those parts. - There was no one to make any holler about it. It was just so much extra - land and it didn’t look like real money.” - </p> - <p> - “I have so much business of my own that I’m not interested in making - guesses at the business of somebody else,” I remarked. I was in that thing - about as deep as I wanted to be. - </p> - <p> - “But how do I know anything about you?” - </p> - <p> - “Honors are even!” - </p> - <p> - The stranger knuckled his forehead, trying to think. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t want to trig the best thing I ever got hold of in my life because - I didn’t buy a little law for to grease the runway,” he said at last. “I - may as well tell you—without giving out names and places—that - those land-grabbers hooked in a section that belonged to a soldiers’ grant—and - that’s why no one ever made a holler. There don’t seem to be any - particular heirs to side-tracked soldiers’ grants that have never been - thought worth much. No timber, you see; only plain land. But plain land is - mighty good property when a railroad takes a notion to build on to it and - comes to an end there and a city starts.” The client began to show - excitement. “They have laid out lots and built and they haven’t got - straight title. I have found it out.” - </p> - <p> - “That doesn’t seem reasonable,” I said. “Railroads and men who are - building cities do not make such mistakes.” - </p> - <p> - “But they have this time. The same money that grabbed the land has built - the railroad. They think they have got it all buttoned up. They didn’t - want to expose themselves by starting a movement to make their title - straight. They reckon they’ll be able to bluff it out with money and pull - and influence down to Boise. That will be easier than to chase around and - establish title to a soldiers’ grant. But, by thunder! they can’t stretch - or shrink the hide of old earth! There are set points that have got to be - measured from and the measurements will tell the story. And re-locations - will have to stand—for the law of the United States can’t be built - over when the holler is made.” - </p> - <p> - I guess I didn’t show much interest—I was afraid to show any. I - hoped the man would shut up and go away. - </p> - <p> - “Don’t you believe what I am telling you?” he demanded. - </p> - <p> - “I am merely wondering how it comes about that you know so much, more than - everybody else about a section of land that has been surveyed for a - railroad and a new city.” - </p> - <p> - “My father was a pioneer in this country. One day, after they began to - build the railroad, I was in the record-office and happened to remember - some of the things he told me about the days when they were grabbing land - in these parts. I looked up records, I did measuring, I did some - reckoning, and within the last two days I have made sure that I’ve got the - bind on the city of Breed.” - </p> - <p> - In his excitement he spat out the name. Then he promptly began to damn - himself. “I never ought to take a drink of liquor,” he declared. “But when - it came to me that I could run in there and re-locate the best hunk of - that land, I reckoned I needed to have my nerve with me, and so I’ve been - bracing my nerve. But the trouble with me is, when my nerve is braced my - tongue is loose. Now I suppose I’ve got to take you in! But I’m dangerous. - However, I’ll take you in.” - </p> - <p> - I didn’t say anything. - </p> - <p> - “What do you get a day for your best law work?” - </p> - <p> - “I don’t work by the day.” I wondered just how lawyers did work. - </p> - <p> - “Well, then, name your price for standing by me against the sharks they’ll - bring to try to beat me out. I don’t know anything about hiring lawyers.” - </p> - <p> - “I’ll take half.” I thought that remark would send him hipering away. - </p> - <p> - My client’s face promptly showed the color of a ripe damson. He tried to - say something and merely clucked. After a struggle he managed to control - his temper and his voice. He leaned forward and clutched my knees. He - spoke low, for there were other passengers near, but the rasp in his tones - made up for any lack of emphasis. - </p> - <p> - “My name is Peter Dragg. If you have never heard of me, ask somebody about - me. Ask any one between Buffalo Hump and Cour d’Alene. I’ve had a lot of - practice in doing things to men who have got in my way. What I’ll do to - you if you don’t back up will put red rings around the moon.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, then, consider I’m discharged!” - </p> - <p> - “From what?” - </p> - <p> - “From my position as your lawyer.” - </p> - <p> - “I haven’t hired you.” - </p> - <p> - “Then suppose you cast off those grappling-hooks,” I suggested, for his - clutch on my knees hurt my flesh and my feelings. When he did not let go, - I reached down slowly, grabbed his hands and began to pry. - </p> - <p> - Not a man about us noticed what was going on—the newspaper that I - had dropped covered our hands. It was tense and silent testing out which - was the better man in that clinch. He had a handsome little grip of his - own, I’ll admit, but I had diver’s hooks at the ends of my arms and I - bested him. - </p> - <p> - “I quit!” he growled, after a time. “Leave go!” - </p> - <p> - “Listen,” said I. “I’m not a lawyer.” - </p> - <p> - “You lie!” - </p> - <p> - “I <i>did</i> lie, but not now. You pass on about your business.” - </p> - <p> - “It isn’t my own business any longer—I have put you wise to it.” - </p> - <p> - “But I’m forgetting it. I have plenty else on my mind.” - </p> - <p> - “You don’t get past with that kind of bluff,” he sneered. “You intend to - beat me to it, but you can’t.” - </p> - <p> - “Look here, I’m coming across square with you,” I protested. “You came and - jammed a lot of information on to me. I didn’t ask for it.” - </p> - <p> - “I say you coaxed it out of me. Now you’ve got to come in and give me law - on a decent lay. If you don’t I’ll do you!” - </p> - <p> - “I’m not a <i>lawyer</i>.” - </p> - <p> - “I know better! You’re tied up with me—you’ve got to stick to me.” - </p> - <p> - “But I have important matters which will take all my time.” - </p> - <p> - “I’ll take your time from now on.” - </p> - <p> - “Look here! I propose to go on and mind my own business!” - </p> - <p> - “Then you’re spoken for! I’ll tend to you before you get a chance to butt - in on <i>my</i> business.” - </p> - <p> - He leaned back in his seat and pushed his coat aside, inviting my - attention by a downward glance. - </p> - <p> - He was packing a gun on each hip’. - </p> - <p> - “I’ll give you about ten minutes’ recess to think the thing over,” he - stated. “If you try to leave this train I’ll be after you!” - </p> - <p> - He went down the car, turned over a scat, and faced me. - </p> - <p> - I was in a fine way to attend to the business of Judge Kingsley and - myself! Whether I went into that fellow’s scheme or did not go in, it - seemed all the same. In those days, according to what I had read, they - were very careless about handling firearms in some parts of the West, and - it looked to me as if I had dropped into one of those sections. He took - another pull from his flask. The uncertainty of what that intoxicated - gentleman might feel impelled to do to me next, in the confusion of his - fuddlement, made the shivers run up and down my back. In the ten anxious - minutes that passed he pulled that flask four times, and every time he - reached for it I made a motion to dodge under the seat. The damnable part - of it was that nobody in the car was paying the least attention to us. - </p> - <p> - Then he came tottering up the aisle and lurched into the seat in front of - me. Between two hiccups he sandwiched a threatening, “Well?” Plainly, he - was well “pickled” and accordingly dangerous. And, on the other hand, - there was a hope for me in his condition. I concluded I might as well be - shot as scared to death. I couldn’t draw a deep breath as long as those - guns were on him. - </p> - <p> - “Well, what say?” he repeated. - </p> - <p> - “It’s all right!” I mumbled. “But let’s make it private. Listen! I’ll - whisper!” I leaned forward, sliding both hands along his legs, getting - close to his ear. I laid hands on both weapons and jerked myself back, - holding them low at my hips. - </p> - <p> - “Make one move and I’ll bore you,” I growled. “Go back to your seat. Go - quick!” - </p> - <p> - He went. I tucked the guns into my own pockets. - </p> - <p> - We passed the station to which I had paid fares, and I handed more money - to the conductor. I decided to stay on the train, hoping that my client - would arrive at his home town, whatever it was, and get off. But he kept - right on. - </p> - <p> - After a time he held up a handkerchief by one corner and waggled it, - giving me a drunken and moist wink. Evidently he wanted further conference - under a flag of truce, and I nodded agreement after I had made sure that - the guns could be come at easily. I agreed because I hoped I could make - some sensible arrangement to get rid of this particular bottle imp who had - landed himself on to my affairs. - </p> - <p> - “You think you’re a slick one, eh?” My hopes fell, for his tone did not - suggest compromise. “You’d better turn around and go back. You’re heading - into the wrong country. Will you go back?” - </p> - <p> - “What is the country?” - </p> - <p> - “Thought you said you used to live out this way!” - </p> - <p> - “I say, what is the country you’re speaking of?” - </p> - <p> - “The Potlatch section,” he growled. “You’d better not get as far as that. - You know Shan Benson, don’t you?” - </p> - <p> - “Maybe!” - </p> - <p> - “You know Ive Hacker, Binn Mingo, Cole Wass—all friends of mine!” - </p> - <p> - “What about it?” - </p> - <p> - “Pals, I say! All work together. Pull off our plays together.” - </p> - <p> - “Go ahead!” - </p> - <p> - “Go ahead!” he repeated, grinding his teeth. “We’ll go ahead and make a - pot roast of you in that plug-hat! Do you think I’m a lone-hander, without - friends? Haven’t you ever heard of Steer Bingham?” - </p> - <p> - My heart jumped. That was the of the names Jeff Dawlin had written down - for me. - </p> - <p> - “And I suppose you’re holding out Ike Dawlin for a—” I started, - giving him a sharp look. - </p> - <p> - He smacked his hand on his knee. “Yes, Ike Dawlin. That’s the kind of - friends I’ve got who will—” - </p> - <p> - “A fine bunch to be afraid of if they all are as handy by as Ike Dawlin!” - </p> - <p> - He stared at me. - </p> - <p> - “Ike Dawlin is East on a gold-brick game, and you know it,” I said. - </p> - <p> - “East—East—you plug-hat stiff! I’ll show you whether he’s East - or not!” - </p> - <p> - “He is East along with ‘Peacock’ Pratt.” - </p> - <p> - My cocksureness made him furious. - </p> - <p> - “By the jumped-up jeesicks, don’t you suppose I know when Ike Dawlin lands - back in the Potlatch country?” - </p> - <p> - “I’ll have to see him to believe it. Yes, or ‘Peacock’ Pratt!” - </p> - <p> - “You follow along on my heels and you’ll see both of ’em all right! - Next you’ll claim to be a friend of theirs, eh?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh no! If I really thought Ike Dawlin was in the Potlatch instead of back - East I wouldn’t be headed this way. <i>There’s</i> one special man I - wouldn’t want to meet up with.” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Dragg bounced up and down on the seat in his rage. I had prodded him - as hard as I could in order to make sure that he knew what he was talking - about. - </p> - <p> - “Damn you!” he snorted. “Then you’ll get your dose of Ike Dawlin. I won’t - eat nor sleep till I find him. And he’ll burn up the road getting to you. - Ike Dawlin, eh? You don’t dare to come on!” - </p> - <p> - “Keep your eye on me. But if you can dig up Ike Dawlin in these parts come - around and I’ll hand you a present—maybe I’ll hand back your guns!” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Dragg by that time was not a pleasant companion and I got up and went - back through the train. He started after me, and then thought better of - it. Probably he reflected that he had me either way. If I got frightened - and went back he would be well rid of me as a rival in his scheme; if I - came on he had Dawlin and the rest—and I surely believed his word - about Dawlin’s whereabouts. I did not know whether I was mighty glad that - my chase was being guided in such handsome manner or was so dreadfully - scared by the prospects just ahead of me that I was half minded to jump - off the train; my feelings were very much mixed up. - </p> - <p> - However, when I met the gloomy stare of Zebulon Kingsley I grinned—I - couldn’t help it. There was a lot of grim humor in the situation. - </p> - <p> - “Been raking in more dirty money, I suppose,” he snarled, mistaking the - nature of my smile. - </p> - <p> - “No, I have turned a better trick, sir. I have just met up with the most - obliging chap I have found in a long time. He knows the man who fooled you - into buying that gold brick. He is going to find him for us!” - </p> - <p> - “Bah!” sneered the judge. “This is only a wild, crazy, helter-skelter - chase for—” - </p> - <p> - “I’m telling you the truth, sir! I never saw a man so enthusiastic about a - kindness for strangers! He just told me that he wouldn’t eat or sleep till - he had found that fellow. Why, he is so headlong about the thing that I’m - afraid he’ll find the chap before we’re ready to meet him in proper - style!” - </p> - <p> - “Hump!” sneered the judge, not taking a mite of stock in me. - </p> - <p> - I walked away and sat down by myself. There was sad truth in what I just - told Kingsley. I was not ready to meet Ike Dawlin and “Peacock” Pratt. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - XVIII—THE ECCENTRICITIES OF ROYAL CITY - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>’LL confess that - it took me a little while to screw up my resolution to the point where I - could tell myself that I was entirely ready and willing to meet Ike Dawlin - in the circle of his associates. - </p> - <p> - We had left behind us brown fields where wheat grew, and had passed - through the Idaho prune-orchards—a brakeman told me they were - prune-orchards. We had come into the hill country and the railroad - wriggled its way along the foot of the canon. - </p> - <p> - I took it for granted that Mr. Dragg proposed to stay with me. Every - little while he came and set his nose against the glass of the car’s - forward door and glared at me. When we stopped at a station I stuck my - head out of the window and made sure that he did not leave the train. The - two of us were playing a sort of “even Stephen” game—silent - peek-a-boo. I kept carefully away from Judge Kingsley, for I did not care - to have Dragg report that I was in the company of an elderly man with a - roll of chin-whiskers; Mr. Dawlin might recognize the description and take - alarm. - </p> - <p> - The judge sat close to the window, wrapped in his cloak, and scowled up at - the canon’s walls closing in behind as the railroad wound along. He looked - as if he felt like a man headed for the innermost chambers of tophet, with - the doors slamming behind him. As the hills shut in to the north, my - feelings were of that sort, anyway! - </p> - <p> - And so night came! - </p> - <p> - I had been asking a lot of questions of that obliging brakeman. My folder - named a terminus of the road and I had paid to that point, but I learned - that the railroad had been stretched along six or eight miles farther down - the canon so as to serve a mushroom town which was the depot for a freshly - discovered mining section. - </p> - <p> - When the train stopped at the old terminus, both Mr. Dragg and I found - ourselves very curious in regard to each other; had it not been for the - glass in the car door we would have bumped noses when we hurried to make - mutual inspection. But he stayed on the train—and so did I. - </p> - <p> - It was a young, a very young railroad, that last bit. The train crawled - like a caterpillar—and that’s a good description, for the cars went - bumping up slowly over the bulges in the track. Every now and then we got - a side-slat which made me think we were going into the creek. - </p> - <p> - I was too busy worrying about that train to give much thought to what was - going to happen to me when I landed in “Royal City” along with Mr. Dragg. - Such, I was informed, was the name of the new town. They certainly do pick - good names to build up to in the West, just as Seth Dorsey, of Carmel, - built a house on to the brass doorknob he found in the road. - </p> - <p> - Judge Kingsley was not affording me much encouragement; he sat and hung on - to the arm of his seat and glared unutterable reproach at me. - </p> - <p> - I was considerably glad to get off that train. - </p> - <p> - But as to Royal City! The place tickled me about as much as if it were a - cemetery and I were riding in the hearse. It wasn’t even as ripe as that - railroad. - </p> - <p> - My first performance was to step into a mud-hole about half-way to my - knees, and I wondered how my pearl-gray trousers stood up under that - introduction to the town. - </p> - <p> - I couldn’t see Mr. Dragg or anybody else; there in that bowl among the - hills the darkness was something a man could eat! We stumbled over - upheavals of muddy earth, stepped into more holes, and made our way across - the especially treacherous places along single planks which were half - submerged in mire. A few lanterns, tied to short posts, were dim beacons - to direct new arrivals from the railroad to the heart of the “city.” Quite - a glare of lights marked the center of business activity. The slope of the - hillside was dotted with bits of radiance from uncurtained windows. In - that darkness only those points of light hinted at the extent of this new - town. The dots were widely scattered, showing that Royal City was - ambitiously endeavoring to cover as much ground as possible. - </p> - <p> - After threading the course marked by the lanterns we came to a stretch of - pulpy mud which was bordered by a sidewalk of four planks abreast, - evidently the main street of the place. There were buildings of - considerable size on both sides of the thoroughfare, but these buildings - certainly did put Royal City into the mushroom class. There was not a bit - of stone or brick nor a clapboard or shingle in evidence. The buildings - were constructed of beams, boards, laths, and tarred paper. They gave me - the feeling that I could pop them between my hands like I’d pop a blown-up - paper bag. - </p> - <p> - A lantern, hung on the corner of a building containing a store, lighted up - a sign, “Empire Avenue.” The sign over the door of the store advertised - the place as the “Imperial Emporium.” A fairly huge structure with - tarred-paper outer walls was indicated by its sign as being the “Imperial - Hotel.” - </p> - <p> - There was nothing bashful about the names picked in Royal City! - </p> - <p> - The windows of the “Imperial Hotel” shed plenty of light upon the sidewalk - in front of it, and I caught sight of Dragg hurrying past as if he wished - to be swallowed up in the shadow’s on the other side. The man had reached - the street ahead of us, for he had been in the smoking-car at the front of - the train. - </p> - <p> - I took a chance and led Kingsley into the “Imperial Hotel” and registered - in a book that a man in shirtsleeves tossed at me. I wrote “Adam Mann” and - “A. Fellow”—the “A” standing for “Another,” of course, and that - wasn’t bad for a quick grab at names. I did not care to advertise the name - of Zebulon Kingsley to certain gentlemen in those parts. - </p> - <p> - From the corner of my eye I saw Dragg peering in at the window when the - man in shirt-sleeves led us upstairs to a room which held two narrow cots - and an unpainted washstand with bowl and pitcher. The walls were of tarred - paper. - </p> - <p> - “Is this all you can give us for a room?” asked the judge, as sour as - vinegar. - </p> - <p> - “What do you expect in a new town—marble floors and gold door-knobs? - I have taken care of better men than you and they haven’t kicked.” He - turned on me; I had not said anything. “You seem to have a rush of - plug-hat to the brain!” - </p> - <p> - His impudence gave me my chance. Dragg had located me at that hotel and I - wondered if I couldn’t turn a little trick. - </p> - <p> - “We’ll move on and look for a landlord with better manners,” I said. - </p> - <p> - “Go ahead,” advised the man. “A lot of tenderfeet do the same thing and - after they’ve taken a look at the other place they come back here and beg - for a room.” - </p> - <p> - On the street I kept in the shadows. After a time we came to another hulk - of paper and boards. Its sign read, “Pallace Hotel.” - </p> - <p> - That extravagance in L’s might hint at generosity, I pondered, but I had - my doubts. - </p> - <p> - The “Palace” had a bar-room in the front of the house and there were many - customers crowded at it. - </p> - <p> - “We’d better go back to the other hotel, bad as it is,” suggested the - judge. “There are drunken men in there and it is a wicked place.” - </p> - <p> - I put up my hand and pushed Kingsley back from the window into the gloom. - </p> - <p> - “When one has business with wicked men those men must be followed to a - wicked place, sir. I found fault with the other hotel on purpose. I didn’t - intend to stay there after I knew that a certain man thought he had - located me for the night. It’s a wise plan to keep wicked men guessing. - Stay back here a moment!” - </p> - <p> - I stepped along and stared in at the window, hiding my face with my - forearm. - </p> - <p> - I saw Dragg at the bar, and Dragg had a man by the arm and was whispering - in his ear. Dragg’s face expressed huge pleasure. He slapped the man on - the back and bought drinks. After they had tossed off the liquor, Dragg - resumed his business at the man’s ear. - </p> - <p> - This man stood out in that slouchy group at the bar as a peacock would - stand out among pullets in a hen-yard. He was distinctly a loud noise in - the matter of wardrobe. He would have made a lurid smear even among the - high dressers who top the crests of the Broadway crowds between - Forty-second Street and Greeley’s statue. He was of that sort of men who - are paunchy and seem to be glad of it, because the extra beam affords them - opportunity to display variegated waistcoats to better advantage. I - realized that I was looking on “Peacock” Pratt. - </p> - <p> - After a few moments I tiptoed back to Kingsley, and, without speaking, - propelled him to a spot where he could get a view of the men at the bar. - </p> - <p> - “Do you recognize anybody there, sir?” - </p> - <p> - “There he is—the man who brought the brick—one of the infernal - robbers!” stuttered Kingsley. He was fairly beside himself with sudden - excitement. His eyes had fallen first on the most conspicuous figure in - the room. “He has my money. I want it. I’ll—” - </p> - <p> - But I pushed him back when he started to rush into the hotel. “I guess - that man wouldn’t hand you his roll if you ran in there and snapped your - fingers under his nose, Judge Kingsley. You recognize him, eh? That’s - enough for now. I’ll tell you that your friend, there, is known in this - section as ‘Peacock’ Pratt, and he’s a good man for us to stay away from - for the present.” - </p> - <p> - “How do you know so much about these men—how do you know where to - come to find them—dragging me across the continent?” demanded the - old man. His fury at sight of that smug blackleg had to blow off and I was - the nearest object. - </p> - <p> - “I’ll have to confess that I didn’t know for sure I was to see this man - here to-night. I had my line out and a good bait on, but I didn’t believe - I’d get a bite so soon. You must keep cool, Judge Kingsley—keep cool - and out of sight. Simply seeing that man isn’t getting your money. We’ve - got considerable of a job ahead of us.” - </p> - <p> - The judge was all of a tremble while we stood there at the edge of the - shadow and watched the room and the drinkers. At last, with a flourish of - his hand, Pratt gave orders to the bartender to fill all glasses. We heard - his hoarse voice above all others. He tossed a bill on the bar and he and - Dragg left in company and climbed the stairs leading up from the hotel - office. - </p> - <p> - “Judge Kingsley,” I said, “I left the other place and came over here - hoping I could sneak close enough to a certain chap to overhear what he - proposes to do about a little matter that I suggested to him a few hours - ago. I see that he has found somebody to talk to. We’ve got a handy sort - of house for eavesdropping, but I want you to remember that the other - fellow can hear us, too. Come along with me and keep your head. A lot - depends!” The “Pallace” was evidently more of a free and easy tavern than - the “Imperial.” There was no register on the planks which served for an - office desk. The proprietor looked up at us and leisurely lighted his pipe - before answering my questions regarding accommodations. - </p> - <p> - “Four dollars apiece—two in a room. Pay now. Includes breakfast, and - there’s a cold, stand-up supper out in the dining-room.” - </p> - <p> - “We bought box lunches from the brakeman on the train; we don’t want - supper,” I explained. - </p> - <p> - “Price just the same. Supper is there, and I ain’t to blame if you don’t - want to eat it,” stated the proprietor. “You needn’t look for any place to - write your names,” he added, noting that my eyes seemed to be searching - for something that should be on the desk. “We don’t keep books. And half - the men who come along here can’t write, anyway.” - </p> - <p> - I laid the money in his grimy hand and he fished two cards from his vest - pocket and scrawled “Brakfust” on each with a lead-pencil. - </p> - <p> - “Give ’em up to the table-girl in the morning. Now, gents, all the - rooms up-stairs are just alike and there ain’t no locks on the doors. Go - up and help yourselves to any room that ain’t being used. I hope you don’t - snore, either of you. It’s apt to start gun-play from them that’s trying - to get to sleep in other rooms, and the walls we’ve got up-stairs don’t - stop bullets. Sleep hearty!” - </p> - <p> - The judge followed me, muttering his opinions in regard to the hotel - methods in Royal City. - </p> - <p> - “Hush!” I warned. “Tread lightly and keep still. It’s a stroke of luck - that he lets us pick our own rooms.” - </p> - <p> - Smoky, stinking kerosene-lamps lighted dimly the corridor up-stairs. - Unplaned planks formed the floor, and here again were the walls of tarred - paper that had enabled Royal City to grow overnight. Some of the doors - that gave upon the corridor were open, and the rooms were dark and - apparently untenanted. Light shone from chinks in the walls here and - there, in other places, showing that guests were in their rooms. - </p> - <p> - I tiptoed cautiously along the planks with ear out at each point where - light sifted from crannies. Then I grasped the judge by the arm and thrust - him into a room. I lighted the tiny lamp and motioned the old man to take - a seat in the single chair. I sat on the edge of the bed. - </p> - <p> - When a drunken man is on a topic that sops up all his interest, he not - only iterates, he reiterates. It is hard to pry a wabbly tongue loose from - the favorite topic. Intoxication seems to make the subject fresher and - more entrancing with each repetition. The fuddled mind gets into a - run-around, as men lost in snow or fog keep on traveling and always return - to the same place. I had no means of determining how many times Dragg had - been over the subject with Mr. Pratt, but that latter gentleman kept - snarling out protests that the narrator did not heed. It was a story about - how a stranger in a plug-hat—a shark of a lawyer—had - hypnotized him, Dragg, on the train and had sucked out of him all his - plans, projects, and secrets in regard to the new city of Breed and now - proposed to rob said Dragg of all profits and rake-offs, and if a man - could do that and get away with it what would be the use in any honest man - starting out in the world and turning a trick for himself, as Dragg had - proposed to do? So on and on, he gabbled. - </p> - <p> - “Say, look here, ‘Dangerflag’”—and this seemed a good nickname for - Dragg’s red face—“don’t con me any more as the human charlotte russe—the - top part of me is hard! There ain’t any such thing as hypnotizing a man - when he doesn’t want to be hypnotized. You were drunk and you slit open - your little bundle of playthings for him to look at.” - </p> - <p> - “If I wasn’t hypnotized how did he get two guns off me—and I sitting - there not able to move hand or foot or wink my eyes?” - </p> - <p> - “I’d be more inclined to think you begged him to take ’em as a - guarantee of friendship, and offered to kiss him in the bargain,” sneered - Mr. Pratt. “I’ve seen you drunk, Dragg.” - </p> - <p> - “But I wasn’t to the give-my-shirt drunk stage that time,” insisted the - other. “I was hiring him for a lawyer—driving a sharp trade with him—and - then he hypnotized me and cleaned me out. And he’s over there in the other - hotel—and I’m going to get to him before he puts me out of business. - I’ll tell you again—” - </p> - <p> - “For the love of Jehoshaphat <i>don’t</i> tell me again!” protested Pratt. - “I have got it by heart.” - </p> - <p> - “But you haven’t told me where Ike Dawlin is. He is the only man that - shark is afraid of. He told me so. He reckons that Ike is in the East. - That makes him bold to do me dirt. I made believe that I know where Ike - is. I tried to scare him, but the bluff didn’t go. He is sure that Ike - ain’t West. You’re Ike’s regular partner, and you know where he is. I need - him. Send for him, and we’ll hold that plug-hatted skyootus here till Ike - can whirl in and back him off. Blast him! I could have dropped him if this - was ten years ago, even if he was from the East, and wore a plug-hat—and - I could have got away with it—but the law sharks have been and tied - us all up.” - </p> - <p> - “You want to think twice before you try gun-play on a man from the East - who comes wearing a plug-hat,” advised Pratt. “It’s a pretty good sign - that he is from the upper shelves back home, and somebody will be slammed - hard if he gets hurt. Keep your hands off a plug-hatter, ‘Dangerflag.’ I - don’t believe Ike would dip in, even if he were here. He’s too comfortable - just now to play scarecrow for your private interests. He might, if I - asked him to, of course. But I don’t see any reason for asking him.” - </p> - <p> - “I’ll give you a half share in the Breed job,” promised Dragg. “I’ve told - you I would if you can gaff that law shark.” - </p> - <p> - “The Breed job looks like digging into a national bank vault with your - thumb-nail,” remarked Mr. Pratt, listlessly. “A lot of law and - complications! This re-locating business runs against snags always. I - don’t mind telling you that Ike and I find the old game a lot easier when - we want to clean up an easy make. I’ll be blamed if we could sell mining - stock the last time we went East. What do you know about that? And then we - nudged each other and turned around and speared three easy propositions on - the good old gold-brick game. You wouldn’t believe they’d still fall—but - they do it. It’s simply a case of go hunt in the odd corners for the right - man. They’re there, waiting. We peeled five thousand off the back of an - old town treasurer—as soft money as we ever pulled. A town - treasurer, mind you! We didn’t have to go farther into the bush than that! - You can’t expect us to be very enthusiastic about a claim-jumping - proposition just now—with plenty in our Dockets. Gimme a match! When - you go to fighting a boom city and a railroad crowd, you’ve got your work - cut out for you—and just now I’m feeling a lot like loafing.” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Pratt was very wordy—but he was almighty interesting. Who was - hugging the most money—he or Dawlin? - </p> - <p> - It was plain to me that the town treasurer of Levant was holding in with - difficulty. He twisted on his chair and his face was gray with anger and - his lips moved. I scowled a warning. - </p> - <p> - “Well, you can loaf on <i>my</i> job all right if you’ll grab in,” snapped - Dragg, temper in his voice. “I’m not asking you to break your neck. You - have got the thing sized up all wrong. I don’t expect to own Breed. I’m - going to operate on bluff. The Breed boomers and the railroad will come - across rather than have the city set back by a hold-up of everything while - land titles are being settled. If they’ll hand me cash, I’ll keep still, - surrender my claim, and the new lines can be ran and locations filed - before anybody wakes up. They’ll see the point all right.” - </p> - <p> - “And I reckon that the lawyer you hired on the train sees it all right, - too,” commented Pratt. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t know what made me blow myself to him after I had dodged lawyers - so long,” mourned Dragg. “But the way he was dressed made him look so - mighty solid and reliable and honest—and his eyes were nice and - brown! He got me! I tell you I was hypnotized. It wasn’t just because I - had budge in me. But he’ll never get to Breed ahead of <i>me</i>. That’ll - be his game, of course.” - </p> - <p> - “Better make your getaway to-night and beat him to it,” suggested Pratt. - </p> - <p> - Dragg was profane in his rejection of this counsel. He stated that Pratt - ought to have more sense than to think a project of that order could be - settled by a sprinting-match. - </p> - <p> - “You know what Callas prairie is in March as well as I do,” he sputtered. - “It would be a gamble which one of us would get across first if it comes - to a race through that ‘’dobe’ mud. It’s all luck whether a - stage-coach or a wagon or a cayuse gets through. I’d have gone around and - come into Breed from the south, but I thought I’d rather tackle sixteen - miles of Callas mud in March than ride six hundred miles in jerk-water - trains. See here, Pratt, I’ve got to have time to operate this thing - without that shark hanging to me. He’s afraid of Ike. I don’t know what - made him tell me so—but he was so mighty sure that Ike was East that - he wanted to shoot his mouth off a little so as to aggravate me, I reckon. - He has got to be held here in Royal City till I can pull off my job in - Breed. I’m not going to have him racing me around over the country, with a - chance of his queering the whole proposition. Now come into this thing and - help me out, will you?” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Pratt yawned audibly and allowed that he would not. - </p> - <p> - “Then get word to Ike Dawlin for me,” pleaded Dragg. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t think he wants to be bothered,” drawled Pratt, indifferently. “I - won’t send for him. That’s final!” - </p> - <p> - I think it would have been hard telling at that moment who was more - disappointed, Mr. Dragg or myself! - </p> - <p> - I had reckoned specially on Mr. Dawlin. He was boss of the gang, according - to his brother’s telling. In all Likelihood he was better thatched with - greenbacks than anybody else in the band. - </p> - <p> - “Furthermore,” stated Mr. Pratt, “I can’t be bothered with your business. - I have some of my own to attend to. I’m going to jump the train to-morrow - and get back to some place where it’s safe to wear real clothes instead of - a diving-suit or overalls.” - </p> - <p> - And so I was going to lose Mr. Pratt! - </p> - <p> - To be sure, I had not exactly made up my mind what to do with him if he - remained in Royal City; but if he were to start on some kind of a hike and - we were obliged to chase him we would betray ourselves and our case, sure - as fate. Mr. Pratt was certainly no fool, and would know how to cover a - trail the moment he suspected that somebody was chasing him. But I could - see no reasonable way of keeping an independent gentleman of his nature in - that dump of a Royal City. - </p> - <p> - “I tell you, you are turning down a good lay when you duck out on this - Breed—” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, hell!” snapped Pratt with all kinds of coarse scorn in his tone. - “About all this re-locating business amounts to is that you’ll either be - bored in the back or boarded in jail! I’ve been studying the game, Dragg.” - He grew confidential. “That’s why I ran down here to this hog-wallow. Ike - and I came. These lines here are run by guess and by gad! There’s no clear - title back of the land. We figured we would jump in.” - </p> - <p> - “You’d have the law behind you,” insisted Dragg. “Sure! And all the - citizens who own guns, too! The trouble is, Dragg, they all know they’re - skating on thin ice. They are looking for something to drop. And so as to - be ready for trouble when it comes they have gone to work and got just as - mad as they can stick so that they can put a claim-jumper where he belongs - in a hurry. None of it for me, Dragg.” - </p> - <p> - The other muttered. - </p> - <p> - “I tell you, Dragg,” insisted Mr. Pratt, “I’d hate to be the man to put my - name on to a re-location stake in this place! Law to back you—yes! - But I have been testing out their temper! It’s dangerous.” - </p> - <p> - “But mobs don’t do up men any longer in this part of the country.” - </p> - <p> - “Perhaps I stated it a little strong, Dragg. But a fellow who tries to put - anything over on this town, with the people here in their present temper, - will get slammed into the pen—and there’s no knowing when they’ll - let him out!” - </p> - <p> - And if that wasn’t a straight tip from Mr. Pratt to a poor young chap in - desperate need of good counsel and help in a ticklish matter, then I’m no - guesser. - </p> - <p> - “So it’s back up the line for me—where I can buy a cocktail and get - the smell of this tarred paper out of my clothes!” - </p> - <p> - But Mr. Pratt’s tip was such a helpful one that, providing Judge Kingsley - had had a drop of sporting blood in him, I would have posted a little bet - that Mr. Pratt would stay on with us for a while. I could see that the - judge had made up his mind already that we had lost our Mr. Pratt. - </p> - <p> - “Sit here and don’t make a sound!” I whispered, and I pussy-footed for the - door. - </p> - <p> - He opened his mouth and I shook my fist at him. I hoped I had on a - demoniac expression—I tried to put one on. - </p> - <p> - “Go to the devil, you and Dawlin, too!” barked Dragg. “If I’ve got to - handle this thing single-handed, the make will be all the bigger for me. - I’m all done worrying about an Eastern shyster beating me out of the game - on my own stamping-ground. If he tries to take the stage in the morning to - cross Callas prairie, I’ll smash that plug-hat down over his eyes, yank - them guns out from under his coat-tail and blow him into the middle of - next week. I’ll think up a story that will let me out.” - </p> - <p> - Ah, so Mr. Dragg must be considered along with ‘Mr. Pratt and Mr. Dawlin! - </p> - <p> - I left the room and hurried down-stairs, hoping the stores had not closed. - My mind was mighty busy! I found a store that was still open. It was the - “Imperial Emporium” and seemed to be well named, for I was able to - purchase there a pair of shears, some spirit gum, a carpenter’s - lead-pencil, and a huge ball of twine. Then I hustled back to Zebulon - Kingsley, who sat livid and rigid, listening to the bragging of the man - who had robbed him. - </p> - <p> - I suppose the stuff I tossed on the bed looked mighty queer to him, and I - wasn’t just sure about all of it myself. But I did not dare to ask any - leading questions in Royal City about claim-jumping and I decided to - tumble along alone, doing my little best as an amateur. - </p> - <p> - Zebulon Kingsley was in a sufficiently volcanic state of mind without any - more stirring up. - </p> - <p> - It’s a wonder that I ever got away with what I started on next in my case. - </p> - <p> - Perhaps his settled idea that I had lost my mind assisted in taming him - enough so that he submitted in his fear that I might become violent. I - look back now and wonder how I ever presumed so greatly even in the - emergency that had arisen. But if “Peacock” Pratt were to remain in Royal - City and if Ike Dawlin would join him, as I anticipated, the man with me - must not be known as Zebulon Kingsley, of Levant, their victim. So I stood - in front of Judge Kingsley and issued an ultimatum. - </p> - <p> - I’ll never forget the look on his face! - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - XIX—THE JOB Of AN ALTRUIST - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE judge sat there - with his hat and coat on; the looks of that room did not invite anybody to - take any comfort in it. - </p> - <p> - I leaned close to his ear and told him to stand up. Then I began to peel - off his wrappings—overcoat, undercoat, and waistcoat. But when I - unbuttoned his collar he pushed me away. - </p> - <p> - “I’ll explain it out to you just as soon as I get a chance, sir,” I - whispered. “But we mustn’t make any noise here.” I gathered my courage. - “I’m going to cut off your beard!” I had to clap my hand over his mouth to - keep him quiet. “I can’t argue now! If Pratt lays eyes on you he’ll - stampede. We mustn’t let any of that money get away.” I pushed him back - upon the chair. “Keep down your hands,” I urged. “It’s got to be done. - Your money is at stake—remember that! What’s a few whiskers compared - with ten thousand dollars!” I was talking just as if I expected to swap - hair for money. - </p> - <p> - I confess I did not have much of a plan worked out just at that moment—but - certain notions were coming to me in sections, as one might say. And the - principal notion just then was that I must not let a set of whiskers, even - if they grew on Judge Kingsley, flag the whole proposition. That was the - first thing to look after, now that we were close to the game—change - his looks! - </p> - <p> - He realized as well as I that we couldn’t start any riot there on our side - of that paper partition. I don’t believe any other consideration would - have made him give in to me. If I had been getting his neck ready for the - ax his looks would not have been more wild. I clipped his beard as - carefully as I could with the shears and laid the tufts, as I removed - them, in a little heap on the bed. - </p> - <p> - Mr. Pratt was thoroughly tired of hearing Mr. Dragg repeat himself; we - knew that because Mr. Pratt said so with a lot of vigor and stated that he - was going to bed in his own room. - </p> - <p> - Mr. Dragg advised him to be up early and see what happened to the - “plug-hatter,” providing said “plug-hatter” tried to get away for Breed on - the stage. - </p> - <p> - “I’ll do it,” promised Mr. Pratt. “I haven’t been having much fun down in - this hog-wallow, and I need to have my feelings cheered up.” - </p> - <p> - Then he marched away down the corridor, making the whole building creak - and shiver. - </p> - <p> - Mr. Dragg had considerable to say to himself, in the way of rehearsing his - threats, while he was kicking off his shoes and getting ready for bed. - Then his mutterings ended in a rasping snore—and he was off! - </p> - <p> - I was glad he was asleep because that gave me a chance to talk to the - judge, keeping my voice down cautiously. - </p> - <p> - “I have some other plans, sir! I have had to think pretty quick! But the - talk between those scamps has given me a rather good idea, I think.” - </p> - <p> - “You seem to be wasting your time on a lot of silly business,” muttered - the judge. “This is boy’s play out of a detective dime novel, sir. We know - where one of the robbers is. We can have him arrested. We can put the - screws to him and find out where the other renegade is.” - </p> - <p> - “But that means going to law, Judge!” - </p> - <p> - “We must let the law handle it from now on.” - </p> - <p> - “We can’t afford to do that, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “But the law will—” - </p> - <p> - “The law will grab the crooks, maybe. But your money will be tied up along - with ’em. We are strangers out here, Judge Kingsley. And you don’t - want the notoriety of the thing. Remember, you bought a gold brick!” He - winced, but it wasn’t on account of the shears! “Just getting those crooks - into jail won’t help your case,” I insisted. “We haven’t much time to turn - around in. The fifteenth of April isn’t very far away. I reckon it’s going - to mean getting ten thousand dollars in ten days!” He cringed. “The law is - too slow and careful for us just now! They pulled that money off by a - trick. We must get it back by—— Well, I don’t know just yet - how we’ll get it back—but it won’t be by any law business.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you intend to rob them and mix me into more trouble?” - </p> - <p> - “I’d rob ’em in a minute if I could do it and get away,” I told - him, calmly. And then, because he was getting excited, I advised him to - keep his jaw still so that the shears might not slip and cut him. - </p> - <p> - When the clipping was done I got my little kit out of my bag and got ready - to shave him; there was a tin dish full of water in the corner of the - room. Of course he was glad to have the stubble I had left under his chin - scraped off, and submitted quietly. However, I knew my real tussle with - Judge Zebulon Kingsley was just ahead of me. - </p> - <p> - On the wall there was a little mirror with glass so wavy that it made a - human face seem like the physog of a baboon. I pulled it down and showed - the judge his countenance with his whiskers off. - </p> - <p> - “You see it doesn’t change your looks very much, after all, Judge. Your - beard was all under your chin instead of on your face.” I didn’t want to - jump him too suddenly. - </p> - <p> - “If you have changed my looks as much as that glass represents, you’ve - done a good job,” he said, dryly. It was the first time I had ever heard - anything like humor from him, and I was cheered and made bolder—so - bold that I came right out with it! - </p> - <p> - “I’ll have to change your appearance just a bit more, Judge. I know how to - do it, for I did it once in my own case.” - </p> - <p> - I uncorked the bottle of gum. But when I started toward him he did not - depend on his hands for defense—he put up his foot and pushed me - away. I protested. - </p> - <p> - “There’s no use going half-way in this thing, sir. It only means a - mustache for you out of your own beard.” - </p> - <p> - “I won’t be cockawhooped up in any such style!” - </p> - <p> - “Are you going to let those men recognize you as the town treasurer of - Levant?” - </p> - <p> - He glared at me and kept his foot up. - </p> - <p> - “We’re after the money—we’re after the money!” I urged. “Just think - what a little thing this is you’re balking on, sir!” - </p> - <p> - “But you give me no hint as to how you expect to get the money! I’m at the - end of my patience. I won’t submit to any more foolishness.” - </p> - <p> - “This isn’t foolishness, Judge Kingsley! It’s a precaution we must take. - I’ve got a plan to keep those men from jumping out on us in the morning—and - they’ll be sure to see you.” I pushed down his foot and I picked up the - hair on the bed and looked resolute. “It’s got to be done, sir. I’m going - to do it!” - </p> - <p> - He gave in to me as he had in other cases when I became savage, but I - realized that fury boiled in him. - </p> - <p> - I made a mighty good job of it, if I do say so, but he angrily refused to - look at himself in the glass. I used all the hair in his beard and gave - him a mustache that fairly cut in half that hatchet face of his; his best - friend would not have known Judge Kingsley. - </p> - <p> - I advised him to go to bed and to be sure to sleep on his back so that the - mustache would not be disturbed. - </p> - <p> - I sharpened the carpenter’s pencil and hid the ball of twine under my - coat, the judge looking at me as savage as a bear. - </p> - <p> - “Now what?” he growled. - </p> - <p> - “Do you know anything about the right way of relocating a claim?” I asked. - “Anything in law about it?” - </p> - <p> - “It’s more likely to be described in the thieves’ catechism,” he snarled. - “I have never owned a copy!”. - </p> - <p> - That’s all the help I got from <i>him!</i> - </p> - <p> - Well, if I didn’t know much about the regular way, I reckoned I could make - considerable trouble in town by blundering along with a little way of my - own. So I tiptoed down-stairs. - </p> - <p> - Apparently Royal City had quit the job and gone to sleep. The hotel office - was dark, and when I stepped forth into the night there was no glimmer of - light anywhere. Even the lanterns that served as the city’s municipal - lighting-plant in the streets had burned out or had been blown out. It was - a case of grope, but I had looked about carefully when I went shopping and - had a pretty good memory for locations. - </p> - <p> - There was a little pile of laths at the corner of the hotel. I had noticed - them when I had lurked in the shadows with Judge Kingsley. I picked up a - lath and wrote on its side, well up toward one end, “Relocated. Dragg.” - Then I pushed the lath down into the mud at the corner of the hotel and - tied to it the end of the ball of twine. With several laths under my arm I - proceeded a few paces, unwinding the twine, and pushed another lath down - and knotted my string about its end. Thus I circumnavigated the hotel, - sticking down marked laths, knotting about them the twine. In this fashion - I calculated I had declared on one Dragg a re-location of the hotel site—or - rather made it seem that Dragg had tried on a clumsy trick to jump a land - claim. - </p> - <p> - With footsteps muffled by the mud of Royal City, moving unseen in the - night, I was truly a generous cuss. I located nothing for myself. I took - the “Imperial Emporium” for Pratt, and re-located the site of the - “Imperial Hotel” for Dawlin. Then I stole back into the tavern, taking off - my muddy shoes at the door. - </p> - <p> - That slatted bed and the snores pealing everywhere kept me awake nearly - all night, and next morning I was down before anybody else was stirring. - In the gray dawn out slouched from an inner room the landlord, yawning, - growling, blinking—beginning his day’s duties in a distinctly - grouchy frame of mind. - </p> - <p> - “What time does the stage-coach leave for Breed City?” I asked. - </p> - <p> - “Nobody but a fool would take a stage for Breed this time of year—but - a man who comes out here in March and mud-time, wearing a plug-hat, must - be a fool. So you’ll leave at ha’f pas’ six,” was the landlord’s genial - response. - </p> - <p> - “And what time is breakfast?” - </p> - <p> - “Time for you to get the stage. What do you want to ask such a cussed fool - question as that for? What do you think I’m getting up to do at this hour - in the morning?” Well, I wasn’t in any jolly mood myself. “I didn’t know - but you might be up to sing a hymn to the morning star.” - </p> - <p> - “Say, you’re looking for trouble, ain’t you?” bawled the landlord. He came - from behind the counter. “I’ll cave that plug—” - </p> - <p> - That made me good and mad! “No, I’m looking for cartridges to fit my - guns,” I stated, pulling both weapons. “I’ve got only twelve left—six - in each chamber.” - </p> - <p> - My friend checked himself so suddenly that he nearly tumbled on his nose. - </p> - <p> - “Does the store open early?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir,” said the landlord, quite respectfully. - </p> - <p> - “Then I’ll take a stroll up that way. Make my bacon thick and be very - careful not to fry the juice out of it.” There’s nothing like establishing - a bit of a reputation in a strange town, especially if a fellow has - planted seeds of trouble; I could see those laths through the window! I - had begun to feel rather devilish. . - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir,” said the landlord. “We aim to please.” - </p> - <p> - I glanced at my work of the evening before as I sauntered along the plank - walk. The new laths and the white twine showed up well against the black - adobe mud. - </p> - <p> - Sounds of housekeeping, clatter of dishes and of stove-covers indicated - that the proprietor of the “Emporium” dwelt over the store. I rattled the - door, and at last the man appeared and unlocked it from within. He was - surly and slatted the box of cartridges across the counter. - </p> - <p> - “Is it because you don’t care for early customers that you have built a - fence of laths and string about your place?” I inquired. - </p> - <p> - “There ain’t no such thing there.” But he hurried to the door. He gazed. - He ran to the nearest lath and stooped down and read what was written - thereon and cracked his fists together and kicked the lath and stamped it - into the mud and swore loudly. “Pratt, hey? ‘Peacock’ Pratt trying one of - his gambling bluffs because titles ain’t been settled here yet, is he? If - a kettle-bellied catfish like Pratt thinks he can jump a city lot on me - he’s got trouble coming his way on the down grade with the axle greased.” - </p> - <p> - There was much more that the infuriated merchant had to say regarding the - general standing of Pratt, but I did not linger. I strolled into the - “Imperial Hotel.” - </p> - <p> - “I knew you’d come back—they all do; but you can’t do business with - me,” the landlord informed me before I had opened my mouth. “Once you turn - your nose up at my house, then up it stays, as far as I am concerned! - Mosey back to your pig-pen!” - </p> - <p> - “Very well! But I’ll drop back here when the new proprietor takes hold.” - </p> - <p> - “What new proprietor?” - </p> - <p> - “I suppose it’s a man named Dawlin. I note that his name appears as the - man who has re-located this property.” The landlord took a jump and a look - and saw the laths and string. He ran out of doors. He was an able-bodied - man with a large voice, and he outdid his merchant neighbor in volume of - cursing. It was plain that he was well acquainted with the mental and - moral qualities of Ike Dawlin. - </p> - <p> - So I went back to my own tavern. Judge Kingsley was waiting in the office, - and the landlord was talking to the old man with considerable affability. - </p> - <p> - “I was telling your friend here that we aim to please! I reckon the girl - can fit you out with breakfast now if you’re minded to step into the - dining-room.” - </p> - <p> - “Thank you—we’ll step in, sir. By the way, there seems to be - considerable excitement on the street, Mr. Landlord. Men named Dawlin and - Pratt, whoever they may be, have re-located business sites occupied by the - big store and the other hotel. I just noticed that the same thing has been - done to you; you’d better take a look outside.” - </p> - <p> - By the manner in which the owner of the “Pallace” pounded his way to the - street it might have been guessed that the consciences of the pioneers of - Royal City were not wholly clear as to their several rights of property. - But the manner in which they were taking the re-locations showed that they - were entirely ready to fight for what they had squatted on. - </p> - <p> - “By the bald-headed juductionary of Walla Walla County,” howled the - “Pallace” landlord, “that tinhorn Dragg has sneaked out of my house in the - night so as to do me up, has he?” - </p> - <p> - “Do you say it’s Dragg?” bawled the landlord of the “Imperial” from a - distance. “It’s Dawlin, up here! He’s been boozing here in my house under - cover for a week, but he wasn’t so drunk, so it seems, but he could dodge - out last night and try to steal my property away from me.” - </p> - <p> - Say, I swapped one very large look with Zebulon Kingsley, who stood in the - hotel door, staring from furious landlord to furious landlord. The old man - had heard enough the night before to appreciate the value of that - information in regard to Dawlin. - </p> - <p> - “It’s that skunk of a dressed-up Pratt in my case,” shouted the owner of - the “Emporium” from farther up the street. - </p> - <p> - “I reckon I can show any man who tries to steal my property that I’m - mighty wide awake mornings if I do sleep nights when honest men ought to - be in bed,” announced the proprietor of the “Pallace.” He rushed into his - hotel, and clattered up-stairs. - </p> - <p> - “When the wheels of a scheme are running in good shape it’s best to stay - away and keep your fingers out of the gearing,” I said to Kingsley. “We’ll - go in and eat breakfast.” - </p> - <p> - While we ate, loud voices sounded through the thin walls. Men were - crowding into the hotel office. Profanity, denunciation, denial, went on - and on. The judge fingered his makeshift mustache uneasily every time the - bawling of Pratt was heard. - </p> - <p> - “Better keep your hands off that and drink your coffee from your spoon,” I - suggested. “They’ll never know you!” - </p> - <p> - When we were ready to leave the dining-room I warned the judge not to look - at Pratt. We could hear him thundering away in the office. - </p> - <p> - Dragg and Pratt were surrounded by men; the landlord of the “Pallace,” the - proprietor of the “Emporium,” and a grim man with a huge revolver in his - hand and a deputy sheriff’s badge on his breast were right in the front - row. - </p> - <p> - “You can swear, threaten, and deny till your tongues drop off—it - don’t go for a minute with us,” declared the landlord, “for we all know - your style and your nerve. Because you have got away with a lot of - hold-ups in other places it doesn’t go that you can come here and do us in - Royal City.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you think we’d be fools enough to go and put our names on—” - began Dragg, but he was promptly interrupted by the landlord. - </p> - <p> - “Whose names would you put on if you were trying to steal land for - yourselves? You thought we’d rather settle than fight, that’s what! But - we’re going to fight.” - </p> - <p> - It was my turn—and my chance. - </p> - <p> - “Excuse me, gentlemen. I’m a stranger to you all—merely a passing - tourist. But I feel it’s my duty to state that I heard two men discussing - a matter of re-locating land last evening. They were in the next room to - mine in this hotel. I recognize their voices. Those are the men.” I - pointed to Dragg and Pratt. - </p> - <p> - The deputy poked the muzzle of his gun into Dragg’s face to make him stop - swearing. “Shut up! Everybody can see that this is a real gent, and if - he’s got evidence we want to hear it.” - </p> - <p> - “The evidence isn’t much,” I said, meekly, “but I distinctly heard them - say that they could clean up a nice pile of money by a re-location scheme. - It was to be bluff to a large extent. If that information is worth - anything you’re welcome to it. I would hate to see the prosperity of a - hustling city like this held up for one moment by men trying to bunco - honest citizens.” - </p> - <p> - “You listen to me,” roared Dragg. “That hellhound there is lying like a—” - </p> - <p> - The sheriff slapped him across the mouth. “There’s no real gent gets - insulted by you in Royal City while I’m boss of law and order here.” - </p> - <p> - Outdoors was a noise of clanking of whiffletrees and the “ruckling” of - wheels. A stage-coach, mud-daubed from tongue to roof-rail, was pulling - out of an opposite stable-yard. - </p> - <p> - “I’ve got to take that stage,” raved Dragg. “The whole of Royal City can’t - stop me. I’ve been monkey-doodled by a shark. He’s trying to get there - ahead of me. It wouldn’t work here. I’m no fool. I knew it wouldn’t work.” - He yelled so loudly and talked so rapidly that they listened to him. “My - scheme was for Breed—and it was a cinch! He’s stealing it from me—that - doggone, lying plug-hatter found out that I was going to re-locate claims - in—” - </p> - <p> - “Seem to be convicting yourself out of your own mouth!” broke in a - citizen. - </p> - <p> - “I’m going to Breed by this stage. I’ve got to go!” gasped Dragg, twisting - his throat from the sheriff’s clutch. - </p> - <p> - “You’re going into the calaboose right now—and Pratt is going there, - too, and Dawlin is going as soon as they get his clothes on him,” declared - the officer. “Grab a-holt, boys, and help me get on the wristers.” - </p> - <p> - “You men will stay here—and Dawlin, too, till we find out what you - mean by this trick,” said my landlord. “You don’t get out of here to run - away and file your location claims!” - </p> - <p> - “Send a man to the county-seat,” raged Pratt. “Look at the records. That - will prove that we haven’t tried anything on here.” - </p> - <p> - “We don’t need any advice from you chaps as to what we shall do—whether - it’s holding you for a show-down or shooting you out of this place when we - have your numbers.” - </p> - <p> - I looked at Mr. Pratt. That remark started my think-works into action. I - had my men anchored, to be sure, but that wasn’t getting me anything in - the money line—and without doubt Royal City would cool down pretty - quickly and send the men kiting. When they scooted they would go by rail, - of course. That meant difficulties, the thought of which had already - discouraged me. I needed to keep those chaps in the open—and the - wilder the open the better! In the brush, where it was man to man, instead - of in the city where law was safe and sane—and almighty slow! I - needed to be quick and crazy! - </p> - <p> - Mr. Pratt was beginning to get his wits back. He was bellowing so wildly - when I accused him and Dragg that he did not seem to sense the situation. - He turned to me. - </p> - <p> - “Damn your lying tongue! What do you mean by putting up this job on me?” - </p> - <p> - “I have simply stated what I overheard!” - </p> - <p> - “Heard me say that I was going to jump claims? Why, I told Dragg I - wouldn’t—” - </p> - <p> - “You told Dragg that you and your partner came down here on purpose to - jump claims!” - </p> - <p> - He was so mad he was nigh black in the face. “Do I know you? Have I ever - done dirt to you?” - </p> - <p> - I shook my head and looked him over with contempt. From the time I had - left Levant I had been at a loss to decide what front I would put on when - I met up with those men who had robbed the judge. I had thought all along - that my best plan would be to build on my acquaintance with Jeff Dawlin - and use his tips which were to put me next to the parties I was after. - Then I might be able to come up on their blind side—if they had one—and— - </p> - <p> - Well, right there I had stopped. What could I do? Then I had been hooked - by that infernal Dragg! In that mess with him I had allowed chance to - swing me and our fortunes. After that squabble with Dragg I could not hope - to make much of a hit with his associates, eh? Therefore, I was jumping - for the other extreme and I proposed to make Mr. Pratt and his friends - just as ugly as insults and injury could serve. I felt like a boy thumbing - his nose at angry wildcats. And in my desperation I hoped that the - wildcats would come chasing me. Chasing me where? Why not to Breed, - wherever that might be? - </p> - <p> - I certainly was sure of Mr. Dragg, according to his threats and his - promises. And if I could stick a few more darts into the broad flanks of - Mr. Pratt and leave them stinging it was full likely that Mr. Dragg’s - appeals to that gentleman would have much more effect than they did the - night before. - </p> - <p> - A couple of citizens came dragging in another prisoner, a red-eyed and - ferociously angry person, and I knew by Judge Kingsley’s expression that - the round-up was complete. - </p> - <p> - “Who says I did it? Who says I—” - </p> - <p> - “I say so!” I told him. “You held me up and you asked me to buy twine and - pencil for you.” - </p> - <p> - “That’s right,” stated the merchant. “The gent is right.” - </p> - <p> - “Of course it looked all square to me,” I said. “I never heard how - claim-jumpers worked!” I told them. “I saw he had been drinking and I - thought the string-and-pencil notion was only his bee buzzing!” - </p> - <p> - It was reckless lying, but that crowd was too much excited to bother with - mere details. - </p> - <p> - “Why, you mutt-jawed smokestack, you, I never laid eyes on you in all my - life!” raged Dawlin. - </p> - <p> - “I reckon my memory is a little better than yours, for I wasn’t drunk,” I - reminded him. - </p> - <p> - The sheriff was obliged to assign two more men to the controlling of Mr. - Dawlin, who was a husky chap. He was far too much occupied to pay any - attention to the judge, who stood in a corner and goggled at me with plain - and sure conviction that I had gone stark, staring crazy. - </p> - <p> - “I’ll bet you a thousand dollars,” roared Pratt, “that—” - </p> - <p> - “You’re a cheap tinhorn. You never saw a thousand dollars.” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Pratt jumped up and down and tried to throw off the clutch of the men - who were holding him. - </p> - <p> - I felt perfectly safe in that crowd; I made up my mind to keep prodding - till I was sure that Mr. Pratt and his friends had developed enough - interest in me so that they would give up all other business till they had - settled their grudges. - </p> - <p> - I patted my breast pocket. “I always carry ten thousand dollars around - with me just to keep the draughts off my chest. I find money better than a - folded newspaper,” I told him. - </p> - <p> - I had been keeping my eye on the stage-coach for some few minutes. It had - hauled up at the post-office. The driver came out with mail-bags and - tossed them into the boot. - </p> - <p> - “Landlord, will you fetch our valises?” I asked. - </p> - <p> - “Certainly, sir!” - </p> - <p> - “I’ve got a few thousand in my own pocket,” yelled Pratt. - </p> - <p> - “So have I!” howled Dawlin. - </p> - <p> - “And we’ll spend it getting to you,” they shouted in chorus. - </p> - <p> - “It won’t cost you much to chase <i>me</i>,” I said, provokingly. “Cheap - skates of your sort wouldn’t spend much getting to a man you’re afraid - of.” - </p> - <p> - That taunt, in the ears of those bystanders, made Pratt and his cronies - wild in earnest. - </p> - <p> - “I’m only going as far as Breed,” I said. “I’ve got to stay there for some - time on business. When these good folks let you out of jail suppose you - run over and call on me!” - </p> - <p> - “You don’t dare to wait there for us!” said Dawlin. - </p> - <p> - “I’ll bet you five thousand I do dare!” - </p> - <p> - They didn’t take me up on that bet. Perhaps I seemed too certain that I - meant what I said. I intended to seem certain. I wanted the company of - those gentlemen in Breed, no matter what the risks were. And I was mighty - glad when Mr. Pratt and Mr. Dawlin had bragged about the thousands they - had in their pockets. I looked into the glittering eyes of Pratt and I - knew that even in his fury he was taking much comfort in his belief that I - was giving him a straight tip about Breed. - </p> - <p> - “You don’t dare to hang up over there till I come,” he snarled, testing me - out. - </p> - <p> - “If I am not there, I’ll hand over five hundred dollars to start a city - reading-room here,” I declared. “I call on these gentlemen to bear - witness.” - </p> - <p> - “I hope we won’t get the reading-room,” stated the landlord, standing with - the luggage, “for I want to see a few fresh galoots get theirs.” - </p> - <p> - “It’s time to test out whether respectable business men can go about in - this country without being insulted and bothered by rascals,” I observed. - “Come over to Breed after Royal City gets done with you.” And just to - clinch the thing I snapped my fingers under Pratt’s nose when I passed - him. - </p> - <p> - I just naturally knew, that moment, that Mr. Pratt had made a binding - appointment with me. - </p> - <p> - The landlord had hailed the stage, which was surging past through the mud. - I was obliged to push the judge to start him toward the door; he seemed to - be in a daze. - </p> - <p> - “But we’ve got to stay here,” he croaked in my ear. “They’ve got the money - on ’em. They brag about it. You’ll never lay eyes on them again!” - </p> - <p> - I hurried him along the plank walk toward the coach. “Don’t fret one mite - about that part, sir. If we stay here all we can do is stand outside the - calaboose and ask ’em to push our money out through the bars. And - I’m afraid they are not feeling generous enough just now.” - </p> - <p> - “But the law will keep them—” - </p> - <p> - “No, it won’t, sir, if I’m any judge of the sporting blood out here. Royal - City will be mighty curious to find out what happens when Mr. Pratt and - his friends arrive in Breed. And they’ll come! Don’t worry!” - </p> - <p> - But the judge was a stubborn old customer! He kept holding back. - </p> - <p> - “Why not settle it with ’em here?” - </p> - <p> - “Because I have always read that when a good general has a chance to do - it, he picks his own battle-ground and throws up his earthworks before the - enemy heaves in sight. I have picked Breed, sir! As to the earthworks, - I’ll do some meditating on the way.” - </p> - <p> - Already my handy Mr. Dragg had given me the germ of a notion, though, of - course, he had not meant to make me any presents. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - XX—ACROSS CALLAS - </h2> - <p> - THERE were four or five passengers inside the coach, and I boosted the - judge over the wheel and put him in there. There was no one on the box - with the driver, and that was not surprising, for I must say he did not - have any coaxing way with him: he had his fists full of muddy reins and - looked down on me with his mouth screwed around. I asked meekly if I might - ride up there with him. - </p> - <p> - “If you think a plug-hat is going to help me any getting acrost sixteen - miles of ’dobe clay, climb up! But do one thing or t’other damn - quick!” - </p> - <p> - It did not look as if I would be making a specially promising friend, but - I climbed just the same. - </p> - <p> - “Good luck!” said the landlord, “and I hope you’ll take it all right from - us if we let ’em loose after we have shaken ’em down.” - </p> - <p> - “Send ’em along, sir. One at a time or the lot in a bunch!” - </p> - <p> - That little speech suited the crowd; I got a lot of friendly hand-waves. - </p> - <p> - A few rods from the last house in Royal City the muddy street swung to the - right and sort of sneaked into the river, as if it were ashamed and wanted - to wash the dirt off itself. There was no bridge. The horses plunged into - the water and dragged the coach across the stream, floundering in depths - that barely allowed them footing. - </p> - <p> - On the other side of the river the road whiplashed in long curves up the - canon’s wall to reach the level of Callas prairie; I should say it was all - of a thousand feet above the stream. - </p> - <p> - I offered to the driver comments on the weather, on the road: I offered - him a cigar. I had stocked up with smokes with which to curry favor. The - driver paid no attention to the comments and snarled his refusal of the - cigar. Even with six horses leaping to their work under the lash, our - crawl up the muddy slope was snail-like. The wheelers and swing team got - the whip, and the driver heaved curses and little rocks at the leaders. He - had nearly a peck of pebbles in a canvas bag at his side. When we were - over the rim-rock at last and upon the prairie, I looked for more speed. - But no such luck! The straining horses, half-way to their knees in the - black mud, could barely move the heavy coach. - </p> - <p> - After a time the driver left what some flatterers might call a road and - took to the open prairie, zigzagging here and there to find solid ground. - Then intersecting gullies drove him back into the rutted road again. It - was adobe mud—black as zip and as sticky as cold molasses. Every - little while the driver was obliged to jump down from his seat and poke - the clotted mud out between the spokes of the wheels. Otherwise the coach - would have been anchored in spite of the best tussles of the horses. - </p> - <p> - “I should think they’d have to give up trying to run a stage across this - prairie in mud-time,” I ventured to suggest to the driver when he came - climbing back to his seat after a long assault on the mud-clogged wheels - with his piece of joist. - </p> - <p> - “The mails <i>have</i> to go, but the damn fools that I haul don’t have - to,” he retorted, sorting his reins between his muddy fingers. “If you - ain’t satisfied with the way I’m running this thing, mister, you can tuck - yourself into that plug-hat of yours and roll across to Breed City. - E-e-oyah! Go ‘long, you wall-eyed, splint-legged goats of the Bitter Root, - you!” - </p> - <p> - However, I was thankful I was on the outside; the sun warmed me and the - warmth was grateful, for the breeze was chilly on that upland. I could see - snow on the far-distant peaks to the south. The passengers inside the - coach were plainly far from feeling any thankfulness whatsoever. They - groaned and growled and complained. I glanced down over the side dining - one stop for wheel-clearing, and found myself looking into the face of - Judge Kingsley, who had stuck his head out of the window. His false - mustache gave him the appearance of an angry cat. - </p> - <p> - “How much more of this devilishness have we got to endure?” he demanded. - </p> - <p> - “That’s easy figuring, sir! Sixteen miles, sixteen hours! It must be the - regular running time on this road.” - </p> - <p> - “I don’t want no sarcasm from no one,” yelped the driver, straightening up - and shaking his joist. “And if any gent reckons he can keep passing out - his cheap slurs on this trip he’d better come down here now and get his - card entitling him to.” - </p> - <p> - I kept my gaze on the distant mountains, but when the driver climbed back - to his seat and kept on cussing me out, I reckoned we’d better have a - little understanding for the rest of the trip. I closed my fingers around - his arm. It was only a pipe-stem arm—and his eyes were of the sad, - pale-blue kind. I said very near to his ear: “Your breakfast seems to be - hurting you, son! The stage company pays you to drive and to be respectful - to passengers. Mind your tongue after this.” - </p> - <p> - I was trying on a little something. I have found that when you bluster and - shout, the blusterer usually recognizes his own kind and blusters back. - But the blowhard hasn’t any weapon when a man fights with a look and a - quiet word. - </p> - <p> - “It’s the mud. It’s getting on to my nerves,” whined the man after he had - driven a short distance. - </p> - <p> - “Have a smoke—it’s good for the nerves,” I invited. The driver’s - hands were full of reins and whip and pebbles, so I set the end of a cigar - to the drooping mouth and the driver bit off the end. Then I held a match - while he sucked. And when the cigar was going he turned an appreciative - grin on me. - </p> - <p> - “A fellow can’t bluff you much, can he, mister?” he remarked. “I didn’t - have you sized up right at the start-off, I reckon. Why, <i>I</i> couldn’t - lick a prairie-dog with a hammer. But I bluff out most of the dudes who - travel with me. I get a lot of innocent enjoyment that way. It helps pass - the time for me on this jodiggered trip.” - </p> - <p> - Out of his cocoon of grouchiness he broke as a real butterfly of chatter. - I got a lot of good stuff from him, for I learned the name of the mayor of - Breed City and what sort of a man he was—a dry-goods merchant who - took his job seriously and hollered about the development of the new place - and loved those who said a good word for the municipality. - </p> - <p> - I also learned that many miners and prospectors from the Buffalo Hump - region were mudbound, on their annual spree, in Breed—the nearest - town where they could find all the rum and roulette they demanded. The - driver stated that one or two of his friends who had a little spare cash - for speculation made it a practice to loaf around the gambling-places and - buy in from busted players any mining shares that a man wanted to realize - on in a hurry. Most of these shares thus offered for sale were shares in - undeveloped prospects, the driver explained, but one could never tell when - a share bought for a cent would be worth a hundred. That driver certainly - liked the sound of his voice when he got started! He offered the - confidential tip that the Blacksnake Gully region would develop into the - howler of the season. It wasn’t being talked of much. Nothing real - definite was known outside. He guessed they hadn’t opened up anything to - prove the hunch some folks had—but mining is like betting on the - races. A tip floats in from somewhere—if a hunch goes with it, play - it, that was his motto. He had been able to pick up a few loose shares. - </p> - <p> - The mine in which he was most interested had been located for a long time. - Shares had been out for some years, scattered around. He couldn’t tell for - sure who had started the new stories, but he did know that a friend of his—an - humble friend called “Dirty-shirt” Maddox—was up in this section, - nosing around, and he reckoned he’d get some inside information when - “Dirty-shirt” returned to Breed. - </p> - <p> - Of course I wasn’t surprised. My idea of the West was a place where every - man was trying to unload mining stock on an Eastern sucker. - </p> - <p> - “The particular claim in the Blacksnake that I’m speaking of is ‘Her Two - Bright Eyes,’” stated the gossiper. “Mebbe that name is a hunch that it’s - worth looking into,” he added, with a cackle to point his little joke. - </p> - <p> - I thought of a couple of bright eyes, and felt homesick when the driver - drawled the name of the mine. - </p> - <p> - “Two bright eyes are always worth looking into,” said I. - </p> - <p> - That was some ride! - </p> - <p> - The stage wallowed into Breed City about nightfall. It had tipped over - twice on the way, its wheels sinking into “honey-pots” of mud, rolling - over slowly like a tired cow lying down to rest. We swearing passengers - had been compelled to pry it up with poles borrowed from a rancher. During - these waits and during the meal at a sort of half-way house, Judge - Kingsley, mud-spattered, scared into conniptions when he thought of what - would be coming behind us from Royal City, miserable as a wet cat, and - seeing nothing ahead for consolation, muttered to me constantly his - familiar taunt that he was being teamed about the country by a lunatic. - </p> - <p> - I didn’t know exactly what to say, and made him still angrier by - confessing that he was undoubtedly correct. - </p> - <p> - We left the coach in front of the hotel that the driver had recommended, - and we stepped from the board sidewalk like passengers disembarking from a - boat; the mud in the street was fairly a river of mire. - </p> - <p> - “Even if you don’t like the ‘Prairie Pride’ very well,” my new friend had - said, “you’ll have a lot of fun watching the White Ghost operate. There’s - only one of his kind in these parts, or anywhere else in the world, so - fur’s I know. Folks come from a long ways off and stand around the windows - and doors of the ‘Prairie Pride’ hotel and see the White Ghost perform. Oh - no, I don’t mean that the house is haunted. The White Ghost is the waiter. - He’s the only waiter they have in the dining-room. He won’t have anybody - else there. He prides himself on doing it all alone. Says he is the only - waiter in the world who can handle fifty guests and four Chinese cooks - single-handed and keep everybody happy and busy eating. He’s a little - cracked in the head, but he’s sure a wonder on his feet. A streak of white - lightning would have to whistle for him to turn around and come back and - meet it.” - </p> - <p> - Now this bit of information, when I listened to it, stirred in me merely a - half-determination to go to another hotel, where the waiter did not give a - show along with his services. - </p> - <p> - How often does man slight some odd tools that Fate lays in his way, - especially when Fate doesn’t draw his attention to them! - </p> - <p> - The “Prairie Pride” hotel deserved its name in some measure. It had smooth - floors, real doors, and walls of plaster. Its big office thronged with - guests, whose character was plain enough. There were slick drummers and - bearded and booted miners fresh from the hills, down for a bit of a spring - whirl, and there were mining engineers and such like. - </p> - <p> - We were given a room and at the same time we were given a hint that we’d - better hurry to supper before the hungry mob cleaned up all the best - dishes. Again my clothes coaxed this courtesy! - </p> - <p> - “Cross the big dining-room and go into the alcove,” directed the clerk, - after a glance at my hat. “The alcove is for gents. We herd the others in - the big room.” - </p> - <p> - I crossed this main hall a few steps in advance of Judge Kingsley. Men - were crowded at the tables gobbling food. No fancy feeding! Men jabbed - knives into their mouths and grabbed stuff off plates and smacked their - lips and snuffled and grunted. I stopped in the alleyway between these - tables to look about. I heard a yell of warning and dodged just in time to - escape. - </p> - <p> - Double swinging doors with spring hinges were burst open by the impact of - a foot that must have been swung waist high for the kick. Out into the - dining-room shot the individual who had kicked. - </p> - <p> - It was an apparition! - </p> - <p> - He was more than six feet tall and as slim as a beanpole. He wore a white - cap, a white jacket, a white apron shrouded him to his heels, and he wore - white shoes. He had a white, peaked face and his hair was tow-colored. On - a huge tray that he held well above his head dishes were heaped high. He - went past me and down the alleyway on the dead run, and wisps of steam - from his load followed after, trailing on the air. - </p> - <p> - “You want to keep out of the road in this dining-room when the White Ghost - is on the rampage,” advised a guest at the table in the alcove where we - took seats. “He’s going to get somebody some day fine and plenty. A few - months ago he got old Babb Coan, who was down here on crutches, nursing a - broken leg, and couldn’t get out of the way in season. But the White Ghost - was loaded with empty dishes—just empties. Some day he’s going to - connect when he’s loaded with about seventeen hot dinners.” - </p> - <p> - The next moment a white streak came into the alcove, took half a dozen - orders and darted back into the kitchen with a tray-load of empty dishes. - </p> - <p> - “It advertises the hotel,” explained the talkative guest. “Men come here - from far and near to see the White Ghost razoo up and down the stretch, - but for me I’d rather have more waiters and less slamming. It keeps me - nervous, and when I’m nervous I can’t do justice to my vittles. I’m all - the time expecting to see that man that’s doomed to get <i>his</i> get it. - It’ll be a mighty mushy affair.” - </p> - <p> - By this time the White Ghost was back and was scaling loaded dishes about - the table with a deftness that a quick dealer shows in a poker game. - </p> - <p> - And I, still blind to what Fate was preparing for my side of the case, was - merely irritated by this tophet-te-larrup! - </p> - <p> - When supper was over we seized an opportunity when the White Ghost was on - an outward trip and escaped. - </p> - <p> - I advised the judge that he’d better take the key and go to our room and - get into bed, and the old man accepted that advice with a sigh of - thankfulness. He looked bent, weary, and broken as he climbed the stairs; - homesick hopelessness showed in every line of his face and in every motion - of his body. I did pity him then! - </p> - <p> - “Poor old father of the girl with the two bright eyes,” I said, not - realizing that I had spoken aloud. - </p> - <p> - A man sidled up and prodded me with his thumb. - </p> - <p> - “I heard what you said to the old gent just now! Where did you get your - tip, pard?” he whispered. - </p> - <p> - I had already forgotten just what the driver had said. - </p> - <p> - “You needn’t let it out if you don’t want to. But there’s a little inside - guessing in these parts and when you hear a man let drop anything about - the ‘Two Bright Eyes,’ it’s reckoned he has had a hunch of some kind.” - </p> - <p> - “I wasn’t thinking about that mine!” - </p> - <p> - The man grinned. - </p> - <p> - “That’s right—keep it sly! But see here, pard, I’m going to test you - out a little on this thing. I’ve got a few thousand shares of the old - stock. Took it over in a poker game a long time ago—we gamble mining - stocks out this way when we’re busted. I’m busted now—and they won’t - take mining stock at the roulette wheel. I’ll sell you five hundred shares - of ‘Bright Eyes’ at fifty cents a share.” - </p> - <p> - He peered anxiously into my face as he made the offer. He was plainly - trying to get a hint from my expression, but he didn’t, of course. I knew - nothing about mining stock. - </p> - <p> - ‘I don’t want it.”. - </p> - <p> - “Twenty-five cents a share, then. I want to chase the wheel.” - </p> - <p> - “You’re on a wrong lead, my friend.” - </p> - <p> - Just then a man bumped against me as if by accident and promptly - apologized. It was the stage-driver. - </p> - <p> - The owner of the stock scowled and backed into the crowd in the office. - </p> - <p> - “I was trying to jolt a little hoss sense into you,” explained the driver. - “Why didn’t you buy that stock? I passed the hunch to you to-day.” - </p> - <p> - “I haven’t any money for wildcatting in gold-mines,” I said. - </p> - <p> - The man came close to me and spoke low. - </p> - <p> - “Don’t you remember what I said?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, but grabbing gold-mine stock from the first comer—say, my - friend, do I look as green as that?” - </p> - <p> - “Hish! Don’t rear up, sir! Please don’t! But I know that fellow who just - tried to sell. He’s fresh in from the hills. He doesn’t know what’s going - on—and only a few do know. But I carry men on my stage who talk and - don’t know I’m overhearing. I say no more! But I hope you’ll take the - hint. If I could rake and scrape another dollar I’d buy that stock myself. - That fellow has some kind of a hunch—but he has been too far away in - the hills to know anything special. I guess he just smells it in the air. - There isn’t much stock in ‘Bright Eyes’ left loose these days. I have - smelt around; I know! That tells a long story, sir. If that fellow hadn’t - been off in the hills they’d have got his away from him!” - </p> - <p> - He was urgent and appealing. I couldn’t understand this special interest - in me and I told him so plainly. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t exactly know, either,” he said, unabashed. “I’m thinking it over - and I’ll tell you when I get it thought out. Maybe it’s your style. I have - always hoped to be able to wear a suit of clothes like that.” - </p> - <p> - He surveyed me with candid admiration. - </p> - <p> - My tartness didn’t bother him a bit. He beamed on me—and plainly had - taken a few drinks. I asked the driver to tell me how I could reach the - mayor’s store. My friend offered to conduct me. I had resolved to throw up - my Breed City earthworks! - </p> - <p> - “When I take a liking to a gent I don’t do nothing by halves,” declared my - guide when we were on our way. “You come unwrapped enough to-day so that I - could see that you’ve got real whalebone in your stock and silk in your - snapper—and that’s the kind of a whip for my hand! You come along - with me and I’ll introduce you to the mayor. Him and me are chums. He - ain’t none of your stuck-up dudes. I’ll tell him you’re a special friend - of mine. There’s nothing like getting in right.” - </p> - <p> - He left me in the back office of a dry-goods store, sitting knees to knees - in the tiny room with a fat and placid man who smiled amiably and seemed - to be impressed by my dress and demeanor. - </p> - <p> - He launched out at me in a way that was surely astonishing. - </p> - <p> - “You are the kind we like to see coming into our new and growing city. We - are anxious for a touch of the dignity and refinement of the East here in - our midst. We hope we can offer you inducements which will wean you from - that East which, though its traditions are glorious and its civilization - is sublime, is nevertheless a bit—I may say, without offense, I - trust—effete” By the way in which Mayor David Ware smacked his lips - over that sentence I was pretty sure that he was quoting from his - inaugural address. - </p> - <p> - “I’m very glad to have you feel that way toward me, coming here a - stranger, Mr. Mayor.” - </p> - <p> - “But strangers are certified to a man of insight by the masonry of - breeding.” - </p> - <p> - I thanked him again and proceeded to a matter of business connected with - my earthworks. - </p> - <p> - I told him of the plans of one Dragg, as I had gleaned them from - accidental association with that individual. I said that Dragg had now - attached to himself two blacklegs and undoubtedly would soon arrive in - Breed City for the purpose of taking advantage of technicalities in the - land law, jumping claims, holding up enterprises, giving Breed City a - black eye outside as a municipality where titles were not assured. - </p> - <p> - “I am not a spy, a tattletale, or a meddler,” I said. “But this matter was - forced on my attention when I was on my way here, and I did not want to - see a hustling mayor and city set back by the schemes of blacklegs. I had - heard of your city and of you, and I said to myself, ‘If warning will - enable such a city to head off a plot and put the plotters where they - belong I’ll hurry to headquarters with my information.’ Those men are now - in Royal City and are on their way here.” - </p> - <p> - The mayor’s mild eyes bulged and his face showed his dismay. - </p> - <p> - “It’s plain you are a friend who wouldn’t take advantage of our situation, - sir. That’s shown because you are not trying to operate on the tip this - crook gave you. So I’m going to be frank with you, as a friend. We were so - anxious to get things moving here that we took a lot for granted in the - matter of land titles Those men can make trouble—or at least they - could have made trouble if we had not been warned in season by you. You - will find that this city can be grateful, Mr. Mann.” - </p> - <p> - I was sticking to my assumed name. - </p> - <p> - “Will you allow me to make a suggestion?” - </p> - <p> - “I certainly will. I’ll be glad to have your advice.” - </p> - <p> - “Don’t undertake to jump on them, officially, the moment they strike town. - In order to have your proof you must wait until they try to operate. Have - them watched sharply. If you’ll give me permission to take a hand in the - matter, on the side, I may be able to bluff them out entirely. I reckon - it’s for the interests of your city to close the thing up without the - public knowing there’s any doubt about land titles. Of course I don’t need - to suggest to you that you make a flying start now and straighten out your - law and titles so that no other shysters can come along making trouble - after we get rid of these gentlemen.” - </p> - <p> - “Watch me in that line,” declared the mayor, thumping his breast. “You’re - right about handling them with gloves, Mr. Mann. I tell you if you can do - anything to help us you will stand mighty high with me and with Breed - City.” - </p> - <p> - “In handling them I may be able to make it seem like a personal quarrel - between them and myself,” I suggested. My horizon was growing wider all - the time. “They are dangerous men, but I’m not afraid of them.” - </p> - <p> - “But I don’t want you to be a martyr.” - </p> - <p> - “I’m not afraid of them, I say. If trouble does happen here and it seems - like a personal quarrel, you will understand it all, Mr. Mayor!” - </p> - <p> - “Certainly, sir!” - </p> - <p> - “It may seem strange to have a stranger come along like this and offer to - meddle in matters where he has no personal interest. Those men are nothing - to me, one way or the other. But I’m for fair play always!” - </p> - <p> - His Honor warmed to this modest candor. - </p> - <p> - “The city is behind you in whatever you may do in this thing, sir. As - mayor I say it. You’ll be backed to the limit. And if you get hurt while - you are trying to do a bit of a trick for us I’ll be scissored if I don’t - toss law and order up for a little while and organize a lynching party and - head it in person.” - </p> - <p> - “If I thought it would come to that I wouldn’t meddle in the affair! The - only reason I am offering my services is because I hope to be able to keep - Breed City from suffering a setback.” - </p> - <p> - “Hand ’em any jolt that’s coming to ’em in the name of Breed - City and its mayor.” His Honor clapped his hand on my shoulder. - </p> - <p> - I trudged back to the hotel in a fairly comfortable frame of mind. It’s a - lucky general who can choose his own battle-field, get to it well ahead of - the enemy, throw up earthworks and set a big gun or two in position. So, I - said to myself, “Let ’em come!” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - XXI—THE SKIRMISH-LINE - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span> WAS a bit - embarrassed next morning and wondered if I hadn’t overdone the thing. - </p> - <p> - I was waited on by a delegation in the crowded office of the Pride of the - Prairie. Mayor David Ware headed the delegation and he introduced the - half-dozen amiable gentlemen as leading members of the Breed City Chamber - of Commerce. Then the mayor pulled me aside. - </p> - <p> - “You understand that I haven’t whispered a word of what you and I talked - about last night. That’s to be buried between you and me, but there’s - nothing like getting in sneck with the big boys of this town. It’ll be - easier for me when I have to back you up—if it comes to that. I’ve - explained that you’re a friend of mine who is West looking for prospects.” - </p> - <p> - “I’m glad to be called a friend of yours—and you told the truth - about my business here, Mr Mayor. We start on a square basis.” - </p> - <p> - With the mayor, followed by the delegation, I was escorted through the - main street of Breed City It seemed to afford the gentlemen honest - gratification to follow along behind that plug-hat which I had freshly - slicked that morning to the best of my ability. I was lunched at the - Chamber of Commerce—a half-finished board structure; I was dined by - the mayor at his own home; and I returned to the hotel in the evening to - find the judge marooned in the office. - </p> - <p> - “Please don’t scowl at me that way,” I pleaded, humbly. “I was afraid you - might drop something that would queer the whole proposition. You are - looking over your shoulder as if you expected damnation to jump on to your - back!” - </p> - <p> - “Damnation <i>is</i> getting ready to jump on to our backs,” growled the - old man. “One of ’em has got here. He came in on the stage - to-night.” - </p> - <p> - “Which one?” - </p> - <p> - “The scalawag with the flashy clothes.” - </p> - <p> - I had looked for pretty quick action, but “Peacock” Pratt had got away - sooner than I expected he would. He had been free with his money, I - concluded. - </p> - <p> - I got down-stairs early the next morning, the judge tagging at my heels. - But we were not ahead of Mr. Pratt. I didn’t have to hunt for him. He - stood out like Jeff Dawlin’s “Peruvian cockatoo” would have shown up in a - flock of crows. He followed us into the diningroom, and sat down at the - same table and scowled at me with ugly fire in his little eyes above their - pouches of flesh. Then he leaned across the table. We three were alone - when the White Ghost had frisked away after our breakfasts. - </p> - <p> - “I’m here,” said he. - </p> - <p> - “Glad to see you,” said I. - </p> - <p> - “You’re a dog-eyed liar! You didn’t expect to see me. You thought you had - the three of us canned till you could put something across here. It cost - me a hundred dollars to grease the lock of that calaboose—and at - that I couldn’t bring out the other two. But they’re coming! You needn’t - worry any about that part, you punk-faced Piute!” - </p> - <p> - He dove a pudgy hand down into the breast pocket of his vest. He got his - wallet out and banged it down on the table. It was a big wallet and it was - well stuffed. Judge Kingsley gulped when he saw it and his hands worked - like claws. - </p> - <p> - “That’s how I’m heeled, and I’ll spend it getting you, if it comes to - that.” - </p> - <p> - He packed the big wallet back into his waistcoat, galloped down his eggs - and bacon, and then banged away from the table. He called back over his - shoulder, “I wish I hadn’t promised that I’d anchor you and wait for ’em, - else I’d take you now and settle my breakfast with you.” - </p> - <p> - “Did you see that money?” gasped the old man. “It’s my money, There’s a - lot of it. My God! I could hardly keep my hands off it.” - </p> - <p> - “It was a nice, fat wallet, Judge Kingsley. I was glad to see it. It all - looks very encouraging.” - </p> - <p> - “Encouraging! Where do you see any encouragement? Two more men coming full - of blood and thunder to join him—and you waiting here for them to - get along! Anybody with sense would have that man grabbed by the police on - my charges. I thought you told me you were bringing me out here to make - the complaint? Now you’re only dillydallying. A man with, sense, I say—” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I suppose a man with sense would never have come out here, at all.” - </p> - <p> - When I went out and stood on the hotel porch, my friend, the stage-driver, - lounged up. - </p> - <p> - “I’ve knocked off for a few days’ vacation,” he explained, sociably. “Sent - another man for my trip to Royal City yesterday. Mud was getting on to my - nerves. You noticed how it was the day you rode out with me. I came nigh - queering myself with you and spoiling one of the pleasantest friendships I - ever made. I was mighty glad to see the mayor and the boys taking you - around town yesterday.” - </p> - <p> - I told him I appreciated his regard. - </p> - <p> - “There’s another reason why I’m taking a few days off,” he confided. “I’ve - got a hunch that ‘Dirty-shirt’ Maddox is about due here. And in the case - of ‘Dirty-shirt’ Maddox it’s needful to be Johnny-on-the-spot when he hits - town if I’m going to cash in on that grubstake I advanced to him.” - </p> - <p> - I handed him a cigar and he explained further. - </p> - <p> - “If I ain’t here to clap a hand over his mouth to keep the rum out and the - news in, he’ll get four slugs of language-loosener into him inside of four - minutes after striking the first board-walk here and then it’s brakes off, - all into a gallop and hell-bent up the rise for that ‘Bright Eyes’ stock.” - </p> - <p> - At a little distance the stylish Mr. Pratt paced his way to and fro on the - porch, scowling. - </p> - <p> - “Please take a good look at that fellow,” said I. - </p> - <p> - “I’ll do the best I can without smoked glasses,” promised the - stage-driver. “I’ve seen him before—and I never liked his style.” - </p> - <p> - “His name is Pratt,” I said loud enough to be heard by that gentleman. “He - seems to hold some kind of a grudge against me and is following me.” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Pratt let loose a torrent of cuss words that were fully as highly - colored as his rig-out. He wound up by saying, “And, by the gods! I’ll get - you, and get you fine and plenty!” - </p> - <p> - “Will you remember that?” I asked the stage-driver. - </p> - <p> - I realized that I had pretty good control of the movements of Mr. Pratt. - For where I did go there went Pratt also. Mr. Pratt was decidedly on his - job. Personal hatred moved him and he felt responsible, I suppose, for the - interests of the two who were frothing behind the bars of the calaboose in - Royal City. He seemed to be guarding me as a morsel for a feast of revenge - at which three proposed to sit down. He stuck to me so closely that my big - idea became firm enough to handle. The ability to move Pratt, and to be - near Pratt at all times by Pratt’s own wish, suggested my scheme to me. - </p> - <p> - When the noon hour was at hand I led the way back to the hotel, and, while - I tidied myself for dinner, taking my turn at the mirror in the wash-room, - I had an eye for the manoeuvers of Pratt, who was preening and pluming - himself, whisking all the stains of outdoors from his clothing, settling - his gorgeous tie, smoothing his waistcoat across his expansive front. - </p> - <p> - I couldn’t help it—I grinned in his face when I thought of my plan. - </p> - <p> - I buttoned my frock-coat carefully and started for the dining-room—and - Pratt followed close. On the threshold I cast a look within. The White - Ghost was not there—he was in eclipse in the kitchen for the moment. - I started through the big hall, toward the alcove, crossing near the swing - doors. Pratt came on behind me and I halted and turned suddenly on him. - </p> - <p> - “I’m going to shoot you now and here in your tracks, where every one can - look on,” I told him in a whisper—and I kept smiling. “Don’t you - dare to pull a gun. I’ve got you covered. I’ve got a revolver in that hand - that’s wrapped in the tail of this coat and it’s aimed at you. I’m going - to shoot you while I’m smiling. There are men looking at me. I’ll say that - the gun went off by accident. It’ll be believed, because we look so - sociable. Hold on! Don’t you open that mouth to yell. You’ve got one - chance for your life. I’ll tell you now—because I’ll never have a - better chance to get you proper if you don’t take that chance I offer.” - </p> - <p> - I was stalling then, for I had not intended to talk so long. Mr. Pratt - stood there as stiff as a wooden man. - </p> - <p> - He took a peep at my hand that was muffled in the skirt of my frock-coat. - The unseen terrifies most. His face grew pale. He continued-to stare at - the hidden thing that threatened his life. My smile broadened—it was - no assumed smile—for my wrapped hand was empty. - </p> - <p> - “You may think that this is a queer place for me to hold you up” - </p> - <p> - If Pratt could have known what was passing in my mind at that moment he - would have agreed. It would also have astonished Mr. Pratt to know that I - was just then raking my soul in order to think of something to say next. - </p> - <p> - There seemed to be an infernally long time between the shuttlings of the - White Ghost. I felt like an anarchist who has timed a bomb and finds his - fuse faulty. Where in the devil’s name was the fool? I knew I couldn’t - stand there and tell a serial story to Pratt. A dangerous light was coming - into the man’s eyes. Astonishment had held him for the first few moments, - then fear had chained him, but finally panic was plainly breaking out in - him, and in such cases a victim will run amuck regardless of consequences. - I felt that Pratt was getting ready to howl and leap upon me. - </p> - <p> - Where was the White Ghost? - </p> - <p> - The thought came to me that this prolonged absence hinted at one - consolation—the White Ghost must be filling many orders—his - tray would be heaped to the ceiling. - </p> - <p> - “Your one chance is—” said I—and then it happened! - </p> - <p> - Without warning, the swing doors burst open under the kick of the White - Ghost’s foot and forth from the cavern of the kitchen came the - thunderbolt. I had been waiting and listening, and was ready to dodge. The - petrified Pratt never stirred a stump. There was a howl from warning - diners—a collision, a terrific crash, and Pratt went down under the - avalanche. The White Ghost was lugging one of the biggest loads of his - career. There were deep plates in which hot and greasy soup swam, there - were gravied meats, nappies of vegetables, tea, coffee, macaroni, pies, - and puddings. Mr. Pratt was buried under dishes, hot soup blinded his - eyes, macaroni was twined around his neck, pies plastered his shirt bosom, - and his clothes sopped up liquids. He might have been labeled, “A dinner - in eruption!” The White Ghost dove across him and skated along the floor - on his nose. - </p> - <p> - I hurried to Pratt and began to paw the dishes from off him. And having - planned just what I was going to do and knowing just where to seek for - what I wanted, I dove a hand into Pratt’s inside vest pocket and yanked - out the big wallet. Other men ran to help me, there was excitement, and in - that mess of provisions which I was cuffing to right and left my handling - of the wallet was noticed by no one. I was kneeling close beside Pratt and - I shoved the wallet between my knees, and when I arose, slid it up under - my coat. - </p> - <p> - There were plenty of volunteers whose hands were out to boost Mr. Pratt to - his feet. His eyes were tightly shut and he was bellowing about the pain - the soup was giving him. I took the rôle of close friend and ordered the - rescuers to carry Mr. Pratt to the wash-room and give him first aid with - towels and water. I followed close upon their heels and elbowed Kingsley - along with the push. The judge had stood at some distance during our - drama. I pulled his hand up under my coat and set it on the wallet. - </p> - <p> - “Grab it!” I whispered. “Slip it under your coat; get out of this hotel - and around the corner. Jam the money into your stocking and stamp the - wallet down into the mud. Be careful no one sees you.” - </p> - <p> - It was on me that Pratt’s eyes first opened—for I was swabbing the - soup out of those eyes with the end of a wet towel. - </p> - <p> - But when he opened his mouth I swabbed the towel across his lips. Other - volunteers were working away at the clothing of the victim with wet - towels. - </p> - <p> - All at once Pratt began to slap himself on the breast and howl. His - laments in regard to the hot soup in his eyes had been loud, but in - contrast to his latest outburst they were as the voice of the chickadee - compared with the roar of the lion. After he had beat upon his breast, he - dove a greasy hand into his vest pocket. It was empty. His eyes goggled, - his face grew purple, he shouted, he swore, and he raved. - </p> - <p> - He had been done, trimmed, robbed, frisked, touched—so were his - bellowings! He searched his soul for synonyms with which to announce to - the world that his wallet had been stolen. And then he accused me—accused - me with violence and profanity. - </p> - <p> - “Just one moment, sir,” I suggested, taking advantage of a moment when Mr. - Pratt was choking. “You are sure those dishes didn’t crack your skull a - bit and injure your brain?” - </p> - <p> - After spitting many oaths, Mr. Pratt declared that he was all right and - knew what he was talking about. - </p> - <p> - “You’ll have to back that up,” I told him. “Fifty men were looking at you - when that thing happened. I have not been out of the sight of those men - since. You say it was a large wallet.” I unbuttoned my coat and slung it - open. “Will any gentleman present kindly search me?” - </p> - <p> - “He is going too far when he shoots off his mouth about a gent like you,” - declared somebody in the crowd. “We all saw you. All you did was try to - help the son of a gun out of his mess—and that’s all the thanks you - get!” - </p> - <p> - “Mistakes are bound to occur. I demand that some gentleman make sure that - I have no wallet on my person. My own money is in a roll in my trousers - pocket.” - </p> - <p> - A solid-looking citizen searched me, uttering apologies. “There ain’t any - wallet on this gent, and you’d better ask his pardon for remarks offered,” - suggested the citizen. - </p> - <p> - But Pratt only raved the louder. - </p> - <p> - “I’d like to say a word just here,” called a voice. The stage-driver - pushed to the front. “You all know me and you know I ain’t any liar. This - gent, here, is a friend of mine and he wouldn’t do dirt to anybody. He’s a - friend of our mayor, too.” He put his hand affectionately on my shoulder. - “But as for that other cuss, there, in the piebald clothes, I heard him - make threats not longer ago than this morning that he would get my friend, - and get him good and plenty.” - </p> - <p> - “Maybe you think I arranged to have those seventeen dinners dumped over me - so as to make the plot a good one, you pie-eyed horse-walloper, you,” - squealed Pratt, beginning to “weave” in his fury like a caged bear. - </p> - <p> - “I wouldn’t wonder a mite,” replied the driver, coolly. “When I heard you - threatening to get my friend you was mad enough to try on most anything.” - </p> - <p> - “He got my money, I tell you. I felt him at my pocket while I was trying - to get my senses back. Blast you all for infernal fools, I’ve been robbed - right before your eyes and you’re backing up the thief.” - </p> - <p> - There was a stir at the door and the crowd glanced that way and parted - respectfully. It was His Honor the Mayor of Breed City. He stood for a few - moments and listened to the language Pratt addressed to me. Then he broke - in with authority: - </p> - <p> - “Just a moment, citizens! There’s a lot about this affair, here, that I - know and cannot tell. As for that knave who accuses Mr. Mann, I declare on - my honor that he is a dangerous foe to this city. He has come here to try - to ruin it if his scheme works.” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Pratt at this point managed to control the amazement that was provoked - by the appearance of this new champion. - </p> - <p> - “I tell you, Mayor,” he shouted, “you’ve got the wrong dope about me. - Dragg tried to get me into the scheme, but I——” - </p> - <p> - “You are convicting yourself right now out of your own mouth,” broke in - the mayor. He marched up to Pratt, finger upraised: “You are as dangerous - here as a dynamite bomb. I’ll allow you thirty minutes to get out of town. - Get to those other two knaves and warn them that they’ll be lynched if - they show up here—and I’ll lead the lynching-bee.” - </p> - <p> - There was immediate change in Mr. Pratt’s demeanor and the mayor and the - bystanders listened to him. The fat face was lined with grief, and tears - ran down his cheeks and mingled with the grub stains. - </p> - <p> - “I’m not lying about that wallet, gents. I’ve lost my bundle. It has been - stolen. That’s a nice word to go out about Breed City—that a visitor - to town loses his wad and the mayor backs up the man who stole it!” - </p> - <p> - “Silence!” said the mayor. - </p> - <p> - “Then I’ll simply say that I’ve lost my money—and how about law and - order in a city that will let a man be trimmed in that style? Hold on one - minute, Mr. Mayor! It isn’t merely a case of my own money! If it was, I’d - shut up now and pass on. But I had along with mine the money of a good - friend who trusted me with his roll. I left him in the calaboose back on - the trail and I brought out his money to take care of it for him, for he - was afraid they’d get to him for it. That’s God’s truth, Mayor.” - </p> - <p> - In a crowd there may be found champions for the under dog—even when - a mayor has turned down his thumb. I heard murmurs. One voice suggested - that the matter better be looked into—the good name of Breed City - demanded it. - </p> - <p> - “I haven’t much to say in this business, even though this man has accused - me,” I said in the silence that followed. “Now that you are on the subject - of your money, Mr. Pratt, and are making such a squeal in regard to the - loss of it, will you allow me to ask you how much of it was money you - stole in the East—especially from Zebulon Kingsley of Levant?” - </p> - <p> - If I had struck “Peacock” Pratt between the eyes the effect could not have - been more noticeable. Most of those men who were present had been trained - to gauge the human expression in that region of plain and mountain where - life itself sometimes depends on the ability to judge between bluff and - resolve. His fat cheeks flushed and then they grew pale. That a stranger - in the Far West should be able to cast in his teeth one of his latest - exploits staggered him. He tried to speak and couldn’t. - </p> - <p> - “Pratt, you have twenty-two more minutes left of that half hour,” stated - the mayor, after silence had continued for some moments. - </p> - <p> - “I suppose that has to go for to-day,” said Pratt. “But it doesn’t go for - to-morrow—nor for next day if my friends and I can get back here, - Mr. Mayor! Lynch or no lynch!” - </p> - <p> - He buttoned his waistcoat, took a mournful look at himself in the - wash-room mirror, and headed for a livery-stable which a sarcastic - bystander recommended. I knew that threat to come back wasn’t mere talk. - Mr. Pratt had good reason to take the risks! - </p> - <p> - I took my first chance and escaped from the populace of Breed City to hunt - up Kingsley in the little room in the hotel. - </p> - <p> - “How much?” I was all a-tremble. - </p> - <p> - “A little over six thousand dollars. Mostly five-hundred-dollar bills. - Part of it is tied up in a separate package and marked with Dawlin’s - name.” The judge was not very enthusiastic. - </p> - <p> - I sat down on the edge of the bed. - </p> - <p> - “In order to be on the right side and make allowance for delays here and - there, we ought to leave here tomorrow, Judge Kingsley. And even then we’d - be having hours for a margin—not days. I felt pretty good when I - heard Pratt say that he had Dawlin’s money along. I figured there would be - more between the two of ’em.” - </p> - <p> - “Then it’s all over, is it? We’re beaten, eh?” - </p> - <p> - “What do <i>you</i> think?” - </p> - <p> - “I think we are.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, sir,” I said, “you and I have always seemed to make more progress - when I take the opposite side in an argument. I predict that we shall win - out. Please hand over that money.” - </p> - <p> - “The money is mine—it was stolen from me. You’re too reckless to - handle money. We’re beaten, I tell you. I’ll send that money home to my - wife and daughter. It’s something for them to live on. I’ll kill myself - out here.” - </p> - <p> - Judge Kingsley put both hands over his breast pocket. He was hysterical. - There was no reasoning with him and so I rose from the bed, walked across - the room, and snapped a finger under his nose. Zebulon Kingsley must not - have money in his pocket—in that case I could not handle him or - trust him to stay with me! - </p> - <p> - “Give—me—that—money!” - </p> - <p> - He stared and groaned and obeyed. - </p> - <p> - I divided the bills into packets, tucked them into my various pockets, and - walked out of the room. - </p> - <p> - “This money needs an airing,” I informed the judge. “I’ll take it outdoors - and give it one. It has been in some mighty bad company.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - XXII—MONEY ON THE GALLOP - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>N most - circumstances, being padded with bills to the amount of six thousand - dollars would be comfortably warming. But in my case the possession of - that sum only provoked irritation. - </p> - <p> - I had set out to save Zebulon Kingsley’s name and the peace of mind of his - family. The sum I had replevined by my scheme of justice fell far short of - what we needed—and there was the promise I had given Dodovah Vose, - as well. - </p> - <p> - From the hotel porch I saw my friend, the stage-driver, humping it toward - me. - </p> - <p> - “I have tripped, tied, and gagged him. That was the only thing to do! He - got here and he got two drinks into himself before I could slip the bridle - on him. In another two minutes he would have been jumping clear off’n the - ground, head and tail up, snorting out everything he knows. But I got to - him—and I’ve laid him away, tied and gagged. Go to it, Mr. Mann, go - to it, I tell you!” - </p> - <p> - He certainly was some excited! - </p> - <p> - “Are you talking about a man or a cayuse?” I asked. “I’m talking about - ‘Dirty-shirt’—he’s just in from Blacksnake Gully ahead of the news. - Say, they’ve struck a brown crumble in ‘Bright Eyes’ with gold set into - the mush like raisins in a drunken cook’s pudding. You’re a sport and a - friend of mine. I’m letting you in. Come along!” - </p> - <p> - He ran away a little distance and whirled and halted with the eager air of - a dog who is inviting his master to follow. I’ll bet if he had had long - ears he would have perked them; if he had had a tail he would have wagged - it. - </p> - <p> - “You’re a sport—and I know it. Come along,” he called. - </p> - <p> - Along the street came loafing the individual who had tried to sell me - “Bright Eyes” stock, and he heard that call. - </p> - <p> - “You’re barking up the wrong tree, pard,” he advised the driver. “He’s no - sport. I have tried him out. He won’t take a chance. I gave him a chance - on some mining shares.” - </p> - <p> - “What shares?” asked the stage-driver. - </p> - <p> - “‘Bright Eyes’ in the Blacksnake.” - </p> - <p> - My friend was truly a good actor. He showed no interest. - </p> - <p> - “Shift the name to ‘blacked eyes.’ Yes, and both of ’em closed at - that. No good!” - </p> - <p> - “I tell you there’s something in the air,” insisted the other. “It’s a - fair gamble at twenty-five cents a share.” He pulled out some papers and - walked up to me. - </p> - <p> - “You look like ready money, my friend. I’d rather play the wheel just now - than be rich. I’m tied in here by the mud and it’s getting on to my - nerves. Take ten thousand at twenty-five cents. I’ll close out to you.” - </p> - <p> - “Hold on!” sang out the driver, and he managed to smuggle a wink to me - while he was tugging papers out of his pocket on his way back to join us. - “If you’re in the market for ‘Bright Eyes,’ Eastern fellow, here’s ten - thousand shares for fifteen cents a share.”. - </p> - <p> - “Don’t you come butting in on my market,” protested the prospector, - elbowing the driver away. “I got to this gent first.” - </p> - <p> - “Those shares have been used all over this section for counters in poker - games when beans got too expensive,” sneered the driver. - </p> - <p> - The prospector pulled out more papers. - </p> - <p> - “If you’ll take twenty thousand at ten cents a share I’ll pass ’em - over. I was intending to hold on to ten thousand shares for a gamble. I - tell you there’s something, somehow, somewhere, that says the hunch is out - for ‘Bright Eyes.’ But I’ll let go for ten cents if you’ll take the - bunch.” - </p> - <p> - “That’s no better offer than you made the other night,” I stated. - </p> - <p> - “I was pretty drunk, then, and I didn’t mean to make it. I’m daffy now, I - reckon, or I wouldn’t be doing it over again.” - </p> - <p> - I stood there and looked them over and for the first time I gave a little - real thought to that gold-mine proposition. Up to then the matter had been - mere sound, shooting into one ear and out the other. I had been having - plenty to think about in other lines. - </p> - <p> - It struck me that I was being played for a sucker by a couple of mighty - awkward amateurs. Talk about Zebulon Kingsley buying a gold brick! That - affair had been well buttered by some slick operators. What those two - chaps were trying on me was truly raw work. That stage-driver—I - didn’t even know his name—must have a healthy hate for me hidden - deep down in him! I have cuffed a dog in my life and had him show more - affection afterward, but I couldn’t believe that such treatment helped to - mellow love in a human being. I knew it wouldn’t improve my own - disposition any. In my thoughts I had some excuse for the two. They had - probably been brought up to believe that the ordinary Easterner who had - not already bought some punk gold-mine stock was thriftily saving up to - buy some. - </p> - <p> - “There’s one of ’em born every minute,” I remarked to the - stage-driver, “but I didn’t know I looked so much like one. Run away, the - two of you, and fan yourselves with that stock; that’s the only way you’ll - ever raise any wind with it.” - </p> - <p> - “You ain’t talking to me, are you—to me—Wash Flye?” inquired - the driver. - </p> - <p> - “I am, if that’s your name—and it seems to fit you! But you are not - fly enough!” - </p> - <p> - He opened eyes and mouth on me, stepped back a few feet, and visibly - swelled. - </p> - <p> - “Well, my-y-y Ga-a-awd!” he wailed. “If that ain’t using the butt end of - the whip on a willing friend, may I never sort webbin’s again!” - </p> - <p> - There was truly something sincere in his distress. But that sudden - warming-up to me on the prairie after I had manhandled him, his - unaccountable friendliness, his jacking his job for a few days in order to - dog me about Breed City—the whole thing was too openly a plant. - </p> - <p> - “You’re a good actor. No wonder you’re in the stage business, Flye,” was - my poor joke. - </p> - <p> - He looked at me for a full minute. Then he turned on the other man. - </p> - <p> - “It’s you, you horn-gilled wump, with your sashay prices and your drunken - man’s gab—it’s you that has put me in wrong with a friend,” he - squealed. “He thinks I’m like you are! He thinks I’m in mush with you on a - brace! I’ll show him and you!” He leaped forward and began to kick the - prospector with fury. The latter was a big and rather torpid person and he - seemed to be in a sort of daze at first, and stood still while Mr. Flye - kicked him. Then he turned and knocked Mr. Flye down; he picked him up and - knocked him down again. - </p> - <p> - It struck me that if this were acting between friends it was getting too - realistic. The driver’s face was bloody and he lay where he fell, his eyes - closed. - </p> - <p> - I jumped between and pushed the prospector away. He struck at me and I was - obliged to hit him a clip or two before he would hold off. We had a fairly - good audience, but fisticuffs in Breed, when the muddy season made tempers - short, seemed to stir only mild interest. - </p> - <p> - I found Mr. Flye on his knees and “weaving” weakly when I turned to him. - </p> - <p> - “I ain’t no fighter—I don’t pretend to be a fighter,” he mumbled. “I - knew he was going to lick me if I kicked him. But that’s all right! - There’s three teeth loose and my eyes are bunging! I can feel ’em! - But it’s all right. If anybody thinks it was a scuffle between friends, - he’d better take another think. I’ve took a licking to show some folks - that there’s such a thing as being mistook in a man.” - </p> - <p> - I hadn’t straightened out my opinions, exactly, but I felt sudden pity and - new respect for Mr. Flye, and some emotion even deeper. I helped him to - his feet and took him into the wash-room of the hotel and fixed him up as - best I could. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t blame you so very much,” he kept assuring me, whimpering through - his bruised and bleeding lips. “It probably hasn’t seemed natural to you—it - hasn’t seemed natural to me. This world is full of crooks and I s’pose - you’ve been up against a lot of ’em. I done one crooked thing - myself once when I kept water away from a drove of hogs for two days and - then let ’em drink all they could hold just before I sold ’em - live weight to a Snake River drover. But that drover had stolen two - cayuses off’n my uncle! I didn’t know what I could do to show you, sir! - Probably what I have done don’t show you. But I’ve done my best. It was - all I could think of on short notice. I’ll let a dozen men beat me up if - you will only understand that I ain’t going to do you or try to do you!” - </p> - <p> - That spirit of humble martyrdom was certainly getting to me! - </p> - <p> - “Look here, Mr Flye,” I blurted, “I don’t understand at all. Why in blazes - are you taking all this interest in me?” - </p> - <p> - He gazed at me out of those pathetic, pale-blue eyes around which - blue-black circles were settling. It was a lingering and wistful gaze. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t know, sir. It came over me all of a sudden. It ain’t often I take - to anybody. It just came over me. You’re a real gent—you knowed just - how to handle me. You know how to handle me now! Ain’t you doing the - friendly act, hey?” - </p> - <p> - We were alone in the wash-room; the guests of the hotel flocked there only - at meal-time. - </p> - <p> - “You can see how it looked to me—a stranger here—you two - fellows chasing me up!” - </p> - <p> - “I don’t blame you, sir,” he agreed, meekly. “This world is full of - crooks.” - </p> - <p> - “I have some money with me. It isn’t mine. I need more in a hurry—it’s - to save a man’s name—save him from death, perhaps!” I couldn’t hold - in. “It’s to save his daughter, too. I’m in love with her. I have been for - years! It’s all I can think about. When you spoke of ‘Bright Eyes’ I felt—I - felt—” I stopped and gulped. - </p> - <p> - “I reckon I know how you feel,” stated Mr. Flye, wagging that mussed-up - head of his. “I know a girl. There’s hardly a minute when I ain’t thinking - about her. She hasn’t paid no attention to me, but I’m going to her after - I make my clean-up on ‘Bright Eyes’! It makes ’em think twice when - there’s money. I ain’t much—” - </p> - <p> - “I’m desperate—I’m half crazy, Flye! This mine! Are you fooling me?” - </p> - <p> - He straightened and put his hand up like a man taking the oath. . - </p> - <p> - “I wanted you to get in because I liked you, sir. That’s why I was after - you. But now that you say that you need money I’m begging and imploring - you! If money will do what you say it will in your case, I say ’fore - God you’ll commit a sin if you don’t grab in! I know it! It has come. - ‘Dirty-shirt’ don’t know how to lie about it. The strike has been made. - Take my word,” he pleaded. - </p> - <p> - “I’ll do it,” I told him. “I believe you’re trying to do an honest turn - for me.” I put out my hand and he took it. - </p> - <p> - “Thank the Lord!” he said, and there was a lot of manliness about Mr. Wash - Flye at that moment. “That licking was a good investment.” He said it - devoutly. - </p> - <p> - “But will that fellow sell now?” - </p> - <p> - “Can you handle his twenty thousand shares at ten cents—two thousand - dollars?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes.” - </p> - <p> - “When I offered at fifteen I was trying to beat him down to ten. Don’t - give a cent more. Go show him the money and say you’re willing to be - buncoed once in your life. And hurry—for the love of Sancho, hurry!” - </p> - <p> - I found the prospector watching a roulette game with the sour gaze of a - busted gambler. He went into the corner with me when I jerked invitation - with my chin. - </p> - <p> - “I’ve changed my mind,” he growled, when I mentioned the stock. “And I - wouldn’t do business with you anyway, you—” - </p> - <p> - I unfolded four five-hundred-dollar bills. He stopped his declaration as - suddenly as if I had pinched his throat. - </p> - <p> - “Money is money, I suppose,” said he, “though your shin-plasters from the - East are poor things alongside the good hard coin.” - </p> - <p> - “There’s the bank across the street, and they’ll give you the good hard - coin, mister.” - </p> - <p> - He pulled out his packet and I verified the amount of the certificates. - </p> - <p> - I went to the bank in his company, for he seemed to be bothered with the - notion that those five-hundred-dollar bills needed me as introducer and - sponsor. Then he hotfooted out, weighted with the coin. In spite of myself - and of my fresh faith in Mr. Flye, my heart sank considerably when I saw - that money take legs. The cashier was one of the amiable citizens I had - met in the delegation from the Chamber of Commerce. - </p> - <p> - “Making a little investment?” he inquired, sociably. - </p> - <p> - “A foolish one, I am afraid. But an Easterner who hasn’t had a flier in a - gold-mine at least once in his life gets to feeling lonesome after a time. - That chap has been chasing me around with stock and a story and I have - tossed a little spare change to him.” - </p> - <p> - The cashier peered through the wicket and beamed with new respect on a man - who could speak of two thousand dollars as spare change. - </p> - <p> - “There are mines—and then there are mines,” he suggested. - </p> - <p> - I thought I might as well try my new tune over on this piano. - </p> - <p> - “It’s a proposition called ‘Two Bright Eyes.” I tried to seem indifferent, - but my heart was only about an inch below my larynx and I could hardly get - the words out. - </p> - <p> - I thought he would never speak. He scratched his nose and fiddled with his - ear. I wanted to reach in and shake him so that he would say something, - even if he would only say that I had been nicely fooled. - </p> - <p> - “The property had rather a promising outlook at one time, sir. It was - located by good prospectors and afterward two or three other claims were - taken in. The section is first-rate!” - </p> - <p> - Not wildly encouraging. - </p> - <p> - “But the stock hasn’t been much thought of in these parts—it has - been footballed around a lot. Still”—he twisted his mustache and - waited a few moments—“well, I’ll tell you this confidentially, if I - wasn’t a bank man—and you know we have to move in grooves of caution—if - I could afford to do a little gambling I think I would have picked up a - small bunch of this loose stock. I got a flicker of a hint from a mining - engineer who banks here. Nothing definite—they can’t talk much. But - I know they have been running new leads. The first development wasn’t very - scientific, I understand.” - </p> - <p> - “Does a—When they make a real strike—do prices run up pretty - sudden?” I managed to ask. - </p> - <p> - He smiled. “I see you have never been in a mining town when a bonanza - toots. Everybody goes crazy. They’ll climb over one another to buy stock. - Those who can’t buy stock go racing off to see what they can grab in the - way of adjacent claims. Very exciting, sir! Wish we might show you a - circus of that kind while you’re in town.” - </p> - <p> - When I went out on the street I found Mr. Flye waiting around the corner. - </p> - <p> - “You traded?” he gasped. “He’s over there tossing away twenty-dollar gold - pieces!” - </p> - <p> - “I’ve got twenty thousand shares,” I said, dolefully. - </p> - <p> - “Then I’m going to let ‘Dirty-shirt’ loose. He’ll swell up and bust if I - don’t get that gag out of his mouth.” - </p> - <p> - “But will anybody believe what he says?” - </p> - <p> - Honestly, a gold-mine was unreal to me! I had Eastern prejudices. - </p> - <p> - “You go over there and stand on the hotel porch, sir! You’ll see almighty - sudden how news hits a mining town. ‘Dirty-shirt’ Maddox don’t have to - bring a gold-mine down into Breed City. He’s the bulletin, that’s all. - There’ll be proof enough pretty close on his heels.” - </p> - <p> - So I went over on the tavern porch. Five minutes later I realized that the - bulletin was loose. “It” came whooping around a corner of the street. - </p> - <p> - Mr. Maddox’s nickname fitted him perfectly; in fact, he was well caked - with mud from head to feet. Plainly he had not stopped to pick dry spots - in his rush down to Breed City. He was shaking a canvas bag over his head - with one hand and in the other flourished a handful of stock certificates. - </p> - <p> - “Who’s got ‘Bright Eyes’? They’ve hit it! High grade from Buffalo Hump - clear through the earth to Chiny! Whoosh! Who wants ‘Bright Eyes’? Here’s - some that’s loose. And there ain’t much loose, gents! They have been - picking it up! High grade and pockets full of crumble!” - </p> - <p> - He shook the canvas bag and opened it when men went crowding about him. - </p> - <p> - “There he is,” announced Mr. Flye at my side. - </p> - <p> - “Looks the part,” said I. - </p> - <p> - “After I had rubbed his jaws where the gag had hurt,” confided my friend, - “he told me that he ain’t more’n four jumps ahead of the boss engineer - expert who is bringing out the samples for the report. All you’ve got to - do now, sir, is to sit tight and look wise!” - </p> - <p> - My unlucky friend could not do much looking for his part; his eyes were - swelled so badly that he could hardly open them. - </p> - <p> - “Look here, Mr. Flye,” I said, with a lot of repentance, “I must seem to - you like pretty much of a crab. I don’t know how—” - </p> - <p> - “It was only a gold-mine guess, according to your notion, sir. And I know - how an Easterner must feel on that point. But when I have a friend and - make up my mind to let him in on a good thing I propose to do it, even if - I have to apologize to him afterward for being almighty fresh. So I—” - </p> - <p> - “Don’t make me feel worse than I am feeling!” - </p> - <p> - There was a crowd in the street of Breed City by that time and Mr. Maddox, - in the center of it, had worked himself into a frenzy of excitement and - was offering “Bright Eyes” stock at a million dollars a share. - </p> - <p> - “Don’t mind that kind of talk,” advised Mr. Flye. “He’s half tight, and - his coco ain’t just right when he gets to talking in a crowd, but you - needn’t worry but what his news is all right. And you can see for - yourself!” - </p> - <p> - Several men were larruping cayuses up the street, bags dangling from - saddle-bows. - </p> - <p> - “It’s the first of the rush for the ‘Bright Eyes’ section. Some of the - critters out this way can beat firemen for quick action,” stated Mr. Flye. - Perhaps to emphasize the fact that now at last he felt himself on a - footing of intimate friendship with me, he plucked a cigar from my vest - pocket and lighted up. - </p> - <p> - “I see you don’t smoke—you probably chaw,” he suggested, and he - handed his plug to me. - </p> - <p> - When I state here that I promptly took the plug, whittled off a chunk, - palmed it, and put some gum into my mouth, the depth of my esteem for Mr. - Flye may be understood. I would rather have chewed that tobacco than hurt - his feelings by refusing a friendly offer. - </p> - <p> - While we stood there a bearded man rode down the street, mud-covered. - </p> - <p> - “And there’s the man who will back me up!” squealed Maddox. “There comes - the boss engineer! He knows what’s under cover in ‘Bright Eyes’!” - </p> - <p> - But the bearded man rode right through the crowd without answering - questions. He alighted in front of the bank and went in, tugging something - in his hand. - </p> - <p> - As a new, and somewhat heavy, stockholder in “Bright Eyes” gold-mine, I - reckoned I’d try to get a little information from that engineer—I - was quite sure that an Eastern capitalist who wore a silk hat and had a - friend in the bank cashier might expect a little more attention than a - street bystander. Therefore, with a word to my friend Flye I went over to - find out the best or the worst. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - XXIII—THE CLEAN-UP - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>FTER I had been - properly indorsed by the cashier, the mining engineer gave me some mighty - comforting information, though I did not understand the technical lingo - very well. He was conservative; he was not at all excited. We could hear - “Dirty-shirt” still orating. - </p> - <p> - “Of course that old lunatic doesn’t know what he is talking about,” said - the engineer. “There are always some of that sort to run and rant and stir - up excitement and start poor fools off on a wild-goose chase.” - </p> - <p> - He opened a sack and showed me ore and hunks of crumbly rock which looked - like nothing special. I had rather expected to see nuggets. He explained - that the crumbly stuff was high grade, very much so, but there were only - scattered pockets of it in the “Bright Eyes” claim. - </p> - <p> - “The parties who first located the property,” said he, “simply skim in for - what pockets they were able to open. They had to pack all their ore out on - cayuses and ship it to Tacoma, and there was no profit to speak of unless - the ore yielded over a couple hundred dollars a ton. So when they quit the - job the mine seemed to be played out.” Then he went on with his technical - talk, and about all I could do was to blink and try to look wise. - </p> - <p> - “You can be sure that Newell knows what he is talking about,” put in the - cashier. - </p> - <p> - I wished <i>I</i> knew. I wanted to butt in with some excited questions. - ‘But I did understand that the men who had gathered up most of the stock - of the mine were going to build a smelter and tackle the thing right end - to. There was plenty of ore and the mine would pay after development was - the comforting information handed to me at last. - </p> - <p> - “I beg your pardon, but how many shares went to you in that trade you just - made?” asked the cashier. “That is, if you’re willing to tell me.” - </p> - <p> - “Twenty thousand—I bought for ten cents a share.” The engineer - showed some surprise. - </p> - <p> - “I didn’t think so much of the loose stuff was corralled in one bunch; we - thought what we hadn’t picked up was scattered so wide that we wouldn’t - bother to chase it,” said he. “How did you happen to grab in on it?” - </p> - <p> - I didn’t propose to betray Mr. Flye. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, it was just a gamble! A fellow kept following around after me and I - bought to get rid of him.” - </p> - <p> - “Some of you Eastern Yankees certainly can use your noses for something - else than to talk through,” said the engineer. - </p> - <p> - “If I smelled a bargain when I bought that stock I reckon it must have - been hunch instead of knowledge.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, stick by and stand your assessment for the smelter and you won’t be - sorry.” - </p> - <p> - Mayor Ware and several other citizens came hurrying to have the news about - “Bright Eyes” confirmed. I stood at one side for a time, listening and - meditating. When the cashier told them of my lucky strike they were - immensely tickled. - </p> - <p> - “But you know we Easterners never can make a goldmine seem real,” I said. - </p> - <p> - “In most cases where they’re selling stock East the mines are not real. - But you’re West, now, and you happened in on the ground floor,” said the - mayor. “I am sorry I’m not there, too.” - </p> - <p> - “You can be,” I promptly informed him. “I’m called back home. I’m in a - hurry. I don’t know anything about gold-mines. I can’t come back here to - watch my interests. You folks out here know all about mines and values. My - stock is for sale if anybody wants it.” - </p> - <p> - “What price?” inquired the mayor. “We might make up a little syndicate. - How much do you want for the stock?” - </p> - <p> - “I don’t know,” I confessed, frankly. “It’s all new to me. I paid ten - cents a share. When a gold-mine gets to paying I don’t know how much it - pays.” - </p> - <p> - “It depends on the mine,” stated the engineer. “We can do a pretty good - job of guessing in our line, but we can’t see all that’s underground.” - </p> - <p> - I pulled out my packet of stock. - </p> - <p> - “I tell you honestly, gentlemen, this seems more or less like a joke to me—and - that being the case I’ll sell cheap.” - </p> - <p> - “It’s really worth par—or it will be in time, I’m sure,” stated the - mayor, in honest fashion. “We are under great obligations to you, sir, and - we don’t want to take advantage of you in any way.” - </p> - <p> - “And I feel just that same way toward you, gentlemen,” I assured them. - “There’s always the element of a gamble in mining, I’m sure, though I - don’t know much about it. Your mine may flush out. I’ll tell you what I’ll - do—I’ll meet you on a half-way basis. I’ll sell for half price—fifty - cents on a dollar. Give me ten thousand dollars and you own the stock.” - </p> - <p> - They stepped aside and conferred. - </p> - <p> - “I suppose you’ll be in town a few days longer!” suggested the mayor. - </p> - <p> - “If I can get out of here to-night I want to go. I must go.” - </p> - <p> - “I say again, we don’t want to take any advantage of you because you are - obliged to leave in such a hurry. This may seem like queer talk for - business men to make—to offer more than the price asked. But we want - you to remember that Breed City is grateful.” - </p> - <p> - “I really am not asking for any presents,” I said. - </p> - <p> - That was jackass talk for me to make, and I knew it. Lord! we needed all - the money we could scrape. But a funny sort of pride swelled up in me. I - did not propose to be outdone in politeness. Never had I had municipal - attentions shown to my humble self before I came to Breed City. They did - not realize all the good it had done me. - </p> - <p> - “This is no proposition of that sort,” declared the mayor. “But we are so - sure of Newell’s judgment that we know we shall make big profits on this - stock. There are six of us. We propose to give you twelve thousand - dollars, so that the amount you have paid for the stock will be handed - back to you also. We’d like you to remember that Breed City was good to - you to the extent of ten thousand dollars’ clear profit.” - </p> - <p> - That asinine pride was prompting me to split the difference with them. But - across the street just then I saw the old judge peering about, evidently - in a panic of anxiety about me because I had been gone so long with all - that money. Another memory jogged me at that moment. I was morally bound - to hand Dodovah Vose some profit on his five hundred dollars. Haggling - with those enthusiastic citizens of Breed would be feeding my fool pride - at the expense of two old men. - </p> - <p> - “It’s a trade, gentlemen, with all thanks to you!” - </p> - <p> - The mayor was president of the bank and I guess the rest were directors; - at any rate, the cashier, in about two minutes, was asking me how I would - have it! - </p> - <p> - I asked for currency—big bills. I had a boyish, eager hankering to - lug the money to the judge, to show it to him, to have him count it and - feel it and know that he could face the taxpayers of Levant, even if he - couldn’t satisfy all his creditors. But even bankruptcy, thought I, was - not State prison; my uncle would be cheated out of that part of his - revenge. My fingers itched and my eyes shone while the cashier nipped at - the comers of the bills with moistened fingers. He wrapped them in oiled - paper and I sunk them carefully in my clothes! - </p> - <p> - I made as quick a getaway as politeness would allow. - </p> - <p> - As I remember it, I left a promise to come back to Breed City and settle - down! - </p> - <p> - I caught Judge Kingsley by the arm and hurried him down-street and into - the hotel. - </p> - <p> - The moment we were in our room I began jamming packages of money into his - hands. - </p> - <p> - “Look at it! Feel of it! Smell of it!” I urged. “Judge, I took that money - out for an airing and the junket did it lots of good.” - </p> - <p> - He did not understand. I guess he thought I’d merely brought back the - Pratt money and had gone crazy while I was out with it. - </p> - <p> - “There’s sixteen thousand dollars net and clear for us, Judge Kingsley! - And I reckon we won’t hunt up Pratt and hand back the thousand that’s over - and above his graft from you. He’s a liberal gentleman and he ought to be - willing to pay our expenses and for wear and tear. Now pack up, sir!” I - clapped him on the shoulder. “I can’t stop to tell you the story just yet. - We’ll have it on the way.” - </p> - <p> - I began to pack the money into my pockets. - </p> - <p> - He was deathly white when he stood up, and he staggered against the wall. - </p> - <p> - “On the way! Where?” he gasped. - </p> - <p> - “Home!” I yelled, frolicking like a lad. “Home! And we’ve got to make a - race of it if we propose to head Uncle Deck Sidney under the wire!” - </p> - <p> - Ten minutes later I was humping around Breed City, trying to find out how - I could escape. - </p> - <p> - The stage would not leave till morning. And that stage would take us to - Royal City, and blamed if I wanted to go through Royal City. - </p> - <p> - I knew well enough, of course, that Pratt had gone back there to join his - forces and I could hardly hope that the forces were still in jail. - </p> - <p> - On the new railroad which they were building into Breed only a part of the - rails were down; they were not operating trains. There was no stage line - through the broken country in that direction. - </p> - <p> - The Buffalo Hump Mountains were to the south, and to the east the Bitter - Root range raised obstructions. - </p> - <p> - I had the judge on my back, as it were! I couldn’t wake him up to what had - happened. He appeared to be mentally and physically prostrated. I myself - could have straddled a cayuse and ducked out over the broken country. But - the judge must have wheels under him when he was moved. - </p> - <p> - There seemed to be nothing to do but smash through Royal City, taking our - chances. I felt that the citizens there wouldn’t see us murdered on the - street, but they could not be expected to go along and guard us all the - way home. We would have three buzzards on our trail! - </p> - <p> - I was mighty blue and some scared. I was wishing that I had not indulged - that boyish impulse to carry my fortune in cash. I would be fine picking - for those devils! Take that money and the judge, and I had two pretty - heavy parcels to tug back to the East. The dusk came down on Breed before - I had braced myself to make the jump. - </p> - <p> - No, there was nothing else to it! - </p> - <p> - In order to catch trains and get to Levant ahead of calamity we must go - back across Callas prairie and run the gantlet of those three renegades. - </p> - <p> - I reckoned, according to my reading of time-tables, that the delay of even - one day would bump our plans fatally. - </p> - <p> - I had tried several times to find my friend, Mr. Wash Flye. I could not - get on to his track to save me. I wanted to talk transportation with him, - for I was having a mighty discouraging time of it with other parties. - </p> - <p> - There were four public stables in the city, so I found by asking - questions. I tackled the biggest one first. The man in the office was - pulling off hip rubber boots with the air of one who has decided to call - it a day. He laughed at me when I asked for a horse. - </p> - <p> - “My friend, every cayuse in my stable that can walk, trot, run, or limp, - or even can cover ground by rolling over is hired and has either started - for the Blacksnake country where that new strike has been reported or else - is going to start with a crazy prospector astraddle.” - </p> - <p> - I offered to buy a horse. He said that he didn’t do business that way—he - had made promises and would keep them. I asked for names of men who had - hired. I found a few and was turned down; they all expected to get rich if - they could get to Blacksnake. - </p> - <p> - I had no better luck at the other stables. - </p> - <p> - “Bright Eyes” had made me—it looked as if it would also unmake me. - </p> - <p> - “You can’t get it out of their heads in these parts that first-comers on a - strike ain’t due to be millionaires,” one man told me. “If you want a hoss - you’ll have to carpenter together a new one. The only plugs in the city - that haven’t been nailed by prospectors are the spare hosses of the stage - company—and old Uncle Sam’s mail keeps his thumb down hard on those - critters.” - </p> - <p> - Then I set my teeth and began to hunt all the harder for my friend. I got - word of him here and there, but an eel in a dock quicksand could not have - been more of a dodger. It was evident that success had put springs into - the legs and restlessness into the heart of this new Rockebilt of Breed - City. The trail grew hot—the trail grew cold. It was late in the - evening when I finally caught up with him. He was clinking glasses with - “Dirty-shirt” Maddox, in a bar down an alley where Breed City’s virtuous - ten-o’clock-closing ordinance could be more safely violated. - </p> - <p> - “I’ve done a lot for you, Mr. Mann, but I can’t monkey-doodle with the - company hosses at this time o’ year when the mud makes double work.” - </p> - <p> - I drew him outdoors and down the alley. - </p> - <p> - “I’m meddling with another man’s secret, my friend, but I’m going to tell - you enough so that you’ll understand what this means to a poor old man - and;—and—a girl back East.” - </p> - <p> - At the end of my little speech the driver put out his, wiry hand. - </p> - <p> - “If I didn’t do my part to help you in this job I’d have-; to own up to - having a spavined soul and a heart with, wind-puffs on it. Go out on the - road a half-mile and I’ll overtake you with two hosses and a mud-cart.” - </p> - <p> - Before midnight our little expedition was well started across the prairie. - The cart was light, the crisp air of the March night had stiffened the - mud, and we naturally made-better time than with the heavy outfit on which - we had ridden to Breed. But it was coming, dawn when we got to the - rim-rock at the edge of Callas prairie.. Far below we could see the - chimneys of Royal City, smoking signals of early breakfasts. - </p> - <p> - During the crawl across the adobe ruts, under the stars, I had canvassed - with the driver the dangers that the presence of Pratt and his associate - rogues in Royal City held for two gentlemen who desired to mind their own - business and travel East by that; first train. - </p> - <p> - “Friends,” stated the driver, after he had meditated on the matter, “I’m - going to drop you right here at the rim-rock. Just over there is the mouth - of a path that leads down the side of the canon by a short cut—it’s - all of two miles further by the stage-road where you came-up. The path - doesn’t hit the stage-road anywhere. Now if those chaps are out and free - they’ll be likely to ram across to Breed by this morning’s stage. They - want to see you mighty quick and what the mayor said to Pratt won’t keep - ’em away, I reckon! They must be reckless by now! If you walk down - the path you’ll dodge ’em—for the stage is just about - leaving. There’s an old feller named Mike at the foot of the path who’ll - ferry you. You’ll have a full hour to make the train. Take your time down - the path so that you’ll be sure to miss the stage. If your men are still - in Royal City—well, if I was in your place I’d take that train, - anyway, even if I had to leave orders behind for the funerals and the - flowers.” - </p> - <p> - We climbed down and I started to shove my hand into my pocket. Mr. Flye - threw his own hand to his hip. - </p> - <p> - “Hands up!” he called, sharply. “Don’t you pull that wallet! When a chap - gets rich overnight like I’ve done he’s pretty touchy when a friend tries - to put favor on a cash basis. I didn’t think you’d do it, Mr. Mann.” - </p> - <p> - Tears came into my eyes. - </p> - <p> - “Hands up? Yes, hands up to you, good friend, both hands up to you.” I - grabbed the driver’s fists in mine. “But I don’t understand just why you - have done for me all that you’ve done.” - </p> - <p> - “I reckon I smelled out by sort of instinct that you was giving up your - time, doing good for somebody else,” he said, with a nod at the old man. - “At any rate, I took to you, and when I take to a man it’s all of a sudden - and, doggone it, I just can’t help giving him my shirt—if it’s clean - enough and he’ll take it.” - </p> - <p> - He did not trust himself to stay any longer. He lashed his horses, they - spun around, dragging the cart on two wheels, and away the outfit went - across the prairie. And I never saw Wash Flye any more! - </p> - <p> - I hurried along and the old man found the path too steep for conversation. - In places we were obliged to cling to sloping trees and ease our way down. - </p> - <p> - We were startled, after a time, by the sudden appearance of a man in the - path ahead. He was climbing with haste. - </p> - <p> - “Well, gents,” he called, cheerily, “you’re lucky to be coming down - instead of going up! But I figured that I’d rather climb up to the prairie - and get a little sunshine than stay down there and wait for that stage to - get fixed up.” - </p> - <p> - He stopped and wiped his forehead. - </p> - <p> - “What about the stage?” I asked. I had a vision of Dragg, Dawlin, and - Pratt waiting at the river below or lounging in the streets of Royal City, - blocking our path of retreat. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, a tire came off, this side of the river, and the rim caved in. - They’ve propped up the old caboose and sent the wheel back to the - blacksmith shop. You ought to have heard those other three passengers - swear! I’ve had a chance to hear it scientific and fancy in my time—but - those gents certainly could hang on the trimmings. Especially the fat - one!” - </p> - <p> - “Fat one!” - </p> - <p> - “Yep! Fat man with a suit of clothes that would put the eyesight of a - Potlatch coyote on the blink. They seem to be in a hurry. They’re walking - up this hill, too. Other two men are derricking fat man up the trail. Are - making some talk about getting a rancher to set ’em across Callas.” - </p> - <p> - He clapped on his hat and climbed along. - </p> - <p> - When he had disappeared, I led the way into the pine growth at the side of - the trail, and we found a boulder which would shield the two of us. - </p> - <p> - Dragg came first—carrying out the suggestion of his name by pulling - at Mr. Pratt with all his strength, and Dawlin pushed behind. They halted - often and one of their stops was just below our boulder. They were telling - each other what they proposed to do to a certain person who wore a - plug-hat. - </p> - <p> - I drew the two guns from my hip pockets, and I could feel the arm of the - judge trembling against my ribs. - </p> - <p> - But after the three went puffing on and were out of sight, I dropped the - weapons into a crevice between the ledges. - </p> - <p> - “No, I did not intend to shoot them,” I said, when Judge Kingsley asked - questions. - </p> - <p> - We hurried on down the trail. - </p> - <p> - “But why did you throw away those two good revolvers?” asked the thrifty - old chap. - </p> - <p> - “I only borrowed them. It might seem like stealing if I should carry them - back East. I don’t like to have stolen property on my person,” I said. - </p> - <p> - I did not feel like talking. That remark stopped further conversation. - </p> - <p> - We caught the train! - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0025" id="link2H_4_0025"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - XXIV—HOW SWEET IS THE HOME-COMING, EH? - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">M</span>Y thoughts, fears, - and hopes went galloping ahead of me during that ride back to the East. - It’s all a blur of memory—wheat-fields, prune-orchards, tunnels, - peaks, and prairies—and the old judge sitting beside me, twisting - his withered hands and cracking his bony knuckles. It was lucky for both - of us that the slow part of the journey was at the start and that we had - the clang of mile-a-minute rails under us for the last two days of that - race. - </p> - <p> - Well, I thought the thing over. It was just as much of a nightmare then as - it seems now when I am setting it down. - </p> - <p> - How I ever undertook such a crack-brained, daredevil trip and hoped for - anything tangible to fall to me by such a hundred-to-one shot I do not - understand even now in clear fashion, in spite of the explanation I have - given. We talk about hunches in this world! If I had not obeyed some sort - of suggestion I certainly would not have chased those renegades. Only by - meeting with them did I stand a chance of recovering any money. That - thought and my hankering to use my knowledge about the Pratt-Dawlin gang - influenced me a great deal, I suppose. And the conviction that I couldn’t - spin a thread by seeking money in any other way pried me out of Levant, of - course. - </p> - <p> - I have had something to say about the force of circumstances! - </p> - <p> - I was not in a comfortable frame of mind at all, though the money in my - pockets should have given me considerable cheer. I did not feel that it - was my money—any of it. I could not make it seem like anything which - belonged to me or convince myself that I had earned it. I had picked a - man’s pocket for part of it and the rest of that cash had been jammed into - my pockets, so to speak. I was not wasting a moment’s time on questioning - the morality of any of my acts. I reckoned if Pratt’s wallet had been - stuffed with twice as much I would have kept the plunder. - </p> - <p> - I pondered on another point. - </p> - <p> - Judge Kingsley, provided we got under the wire in season, could be saved - from the charge of criminality, but he still had his salvation, - financially, to work out. He needed all that money and more—and I - had volunteered—had forced myself on him as combination courier and - savior. It was all settled in my mind, according to my private code, that - I must hand over the cash. - </p> - <p> - I will state right here that the decision I had come to about the money - did not rasp my feelings in the slightest. I had read quite a few - story-books in my time. If there was ever a case in the whole realm of - fact and fiction where the final scene would show loving daughter clasped - in adoring lover’s arms, and a benignant father raising his hands over - them with “Bless-you-my-children” sentiment, my affair seemed to be - triumphantly of that sort. Time, effort, and money—it all belonged - in the family! - </p> - <p> - My heart glowed and my eyes grew moist and it was a wonder that I did not - blurt out the whole thing to the judge—I felt so sure of him! - </p> - <p> - However, he had his own troubles to take up his mind pretty completely, I - realized. There was no telling what might be happening back home, with my - uncle Deck stirring things. If I had timed trains right, and nothing - tipped upside down, we didn’t have much more than twenty-four hours’ - leeway in Levant ahead of that town meeting. I asked the judge if the town - notes were very widely scattered, and he told me they were not. He had - picked special parties whom he could depend on to keep their mouths shut - about their investment, and he felt pretty sure that they would hand back - the notes in exchange for cash and would ask no questions and would keep - still in the future. - </p> - <p> - “But I can’t eat and I can’t sleep,” he mourned, “not till I have those - papers in my two hands!” He put up his crooked claws and worked them. “In - my hands—all torn into ribbons—and then into the fire! Just - think of it!” He croaked the words and shivered. “Papers—only a few - papers! Scattered around town. Papers with ink-marks! Yet they can send me - to State prison!” - </p> - <p> - No, that wasn’t the time to talk with the judge about being his partner or - his son-in-law. But I did talk more with him in regard to plans for - gathering in the notes quietly and quickly the moment we struck town. I - had him give me the names so that I could help plan the campaign. - </p> - <p> - I knew them, of course. They were old tight-wads of farmers in the back - districts who would endure lighted candles at their feet for a long time - before they would leak any information about their money matters; there - were some widows and old maids who didn’t know anything about money - matters, anyway. The judge had picked well, I had to admit to myself. But - there was a lot to do, a mighty short time to do it in, and it had got to - be done with the delicate touch a bashful chap would use in picking a - rose-leaf off a sleeping schoolmarm’s cheek. - </p> - <p> - Therefore, this was my suggestion to the judge: we’d slip off the train a - station below Levant Comers, hire a hitch, and make our rounds of the - town’s creditors in the back-lots before we showed up in Levant village. - </p> - <p> - That’s what we did. - </p> - <p> - The lengthened days of April gave us a full hour and a half of sunlight - for our ride on our quest. Out of cupboards and long wallets and rosewood - boxes the farmers and the old maids dutifully produced their town notes—“for - the judge had called on.” They seemed to believe that his wish to call in - the notes settled the matter beyond all question. - </p> - <p> - He became once more his dignified, calm, self-contained self, though I - could see that it was only by exercise of all his will power. - </p> - <p> - I had placed packets of money in his hands and he figured interest and - made payments. - </p> - <p> - The first man with whom he did business gave the judge his cue and made me - thank the good Lord that I had planted that seed in Dodovah Vose! - </p> - <p> - “You’re looking better than I have ever seen you, Judge! Younger, too! - What have you been doing to yourself? Oh, your whiskers are cut off! - Improves you!” - </p> - <p> - The moment we had struck Spokane I bought alcohol and stripped that - grotesque mustache from the judge’s face. In spite of his haggard - countenance, he did look younger. - </p> - <p> - “It’s said around town,” proceeded Farmer Bailey—=and I held my - breath and did not dare to look at Judge Kingsley—“that you’ve just - cleaned up a lot of money in a big deal. Dod Vose has given out first - news! We’re all glad of it because we have always looked up to you as a - financier.” - </p> - <p> - The judge nodded stiffly in acknowledgment of the compliment. - </p> - <p> - “And I suppose he has made you rich, too, young Sidney, taking you under - his wing like he has,” suggested the farmer, with a wink. “Your uncle is - giving you a black eye for deserting the family—like he done the - first time you left town—but I guess you haven’t made any mistake by - grabbing in with Judge Kingsley.” - </p> - <p> - “I’m quite sure of that,” I told Farmer Bailey. - </p> - <p> - “I hate to take this money, Judge,” said the farmer. “It’s been safe with - you. I ain’t a financier like you be. It hasn’t been taxed. You bet I have - kept my mouth shut!” - </p> - <p> - “It’s only to clear up town business on account of the special meeting - which has been called for to-morrow,” stated the judge. “I am glad to hear - you have kept the matter private. I merely tried to help a few of my - friends. And I suggest that you say nothing about having received this - money or that you have surrendered a town note. There are disturbers in - town who threaten a high tax-rate.” - </p> - <p> - “It’s Deck Sidney, thrashing around to make a big show of his authority, - now that he is selectman,” the farmer grumbled. “He ain’t being backed up - by the people, I can tell you that! It’s all right to be enterprising, but - he is too cussed much so. He was around here the other day, trying to nose - out whether I held a town note or not!” I felt a thrill of fear and the - judge grew visibly paler. “Yes, he hung on and coaxed and threatened and - argued. But I knew what he was up to!” - </p> - <p> - He winked at the shrinking judge. - </p> - <p> - “He said if I didn’t bring my town note into the meeting I’d never be able - to collect.” - </p> - <p> - “How did he know you held a town note?” croaked the judge. - </p> - <p> - “He didn’t know! He was round town guessing. I never let on. I knew he - wasn’t any financier. I knew that you’d protect me, no matter what Deck - Sidney might say. I smelled him out, all right! He thinks he is running - this town and he tried to bamboozle me so that he could find some more - property to tax. I reckon we’ll show him where he belongs when it comes to - next annual meeting. He’s getting altogether too big for his britches!” We - learned much more about my uncle’s recent activities before we finished - our ride. Evidently, when he had held his nose in the air he had sniffed - town notes; but when he had set his nose to the ground and had tried to - run those notes to their lairs he had failed. At any rate, the holders - protested to the judge that they had not dropped one word—all of - them suspecting that my uncle was merely digging out property to tax. The - resentful farmers had replied to his anathema with some of their own and - the frightened old maids had been too scared to say anything to him. We - heard enough to know that he had traveled more or less by guesswork, and - had made his quest general, hoping to corner somebody by chance. If we - could believe the protestations of the parties concerned, Judge Kingsley’s - defenses still presented a fair front to the world.. - </p> - <p> - At last, before the evening was old, the judge had taken into his hands - the last note. - </p> - <p> - Then we ordered our driver to hurry us to the village. - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Sidney,” said the judge, when he had paid the driver and stood in the - shadows at the edge of the square, “this is not the time to talk over our - affairs, but I do want you to step into my office for a few moments.” - </p> - <p> - He led the way. - </p> - <p> - The big house was dark and a queer kind of a shiver ran through me when I - looked at it. - </p> - <p> - “The devil must have had me in his clutch all these days,” muttered the - judge. “I have been worse than a lunatic. Not a word from me to my poor - folks at home!” - </p> - <p> - To tell the truth, I had not been giving much thought to our remissness in - that duty. I have never been much of a letter-writer in my life—I - had been so long without folks who cared to hear from me that the matter - of keeping anybody posted on my whereabouts never came into my mind. To be - sure, I had Celene Kingsley in my mind all the time, even in the stress of - our adventures, but I had not presumed to write to her. During our travels - it had not occurred to me that it was any part of my business to prompt - Judge Kingsley in any of his family affairs. But now that we were back, in - front of that gloomy house, I realized just how brutal the whole thing - was. - </p> - <p> - The judge went to his office door and his hand trembled so violently that - the key clattered all around the hole; what with the darkness and his - agitation, he could not unlock the door, and I did it for him, gently - taking the key from his hand. - </p> - <p> - I lighted his lamp when we were within. We stood there for a few moments - and looked at each other. - </p> - <p> - “It’s so still!” he mumbled. “It seems early for them to be in bed.” - </p> - <p> - “But your folks must be all right,” I ventured. “If there was anything - wrong we would have heard about it while we have been riding about town.” - </p> - <p> - “Probably! Probably!” His voice quavered and he was all a-tremble. “But it - seems so still!” - </p> - <p> - He sat down at his table and pulled out the notes he had been gathering. - </p> - <p> - “You are entitled to look on, Mr. Sidney! I wanted you to see me do it. I - don’t just understand all the reasons yet why you have helped me as you - have. We will talk about that some day when my head is clearer. It’s all a - dream—a dream—a dream—so it seems now.” He sort of - maundered along in his talk. He did not seem to be at all sure of himself. - If the thought did come to me with any force that then was a good time to - tell him why I had volunteered as I had done, I put the idea away when I - looked at him. - </p> - <p> - He dumped papers out of a tin tray which stood on the table. He piled the - notes in the tray. - </p> - <p> - “Touch a match to them, sir,” he told me. “You are entitled to do it. We - will watch them burn. I signed them as town treasurer. One of them would - put me into prison. Hurry! Set the match to them!” And I obeyed. - </p> - <p> - Then, almost before the red embers were dark, he dove his hands into the - ashes of the papers and scrufled them about and out of him came the most - dreadful cackle of laughter I ever heard. - </p> - <p> - I was anxious to end that scene as quickly as I could. I pulled a packet - from my coat and laid it on the table; I tapped my finger on it to get his - attention. - </p> - <p> - “Here is something I have held out, Judge Kingsley,” - </p> - <p> - I informed him. “There’s a thousand dollars tied up in this paper. Five - hundred of it I accepted from Dodo-vah Vose, agreeing to put him in right - in our speculation. I took it when I started West.” - </p> - <p> - In spite of his emotion the old judge’s business sense flared just as the - fire had flared in the tray a moment before. - </p> - <p> - “But there was no speculation—there was no business deal! Why did - you take money in that way?” - </p> - <p> - “I had special reasons of my own, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “But you had no right—it was a private affair—it—” - </p> - <p> - “And I also had reasons of your own to consider, sir,” I broke in. “Mr. - Vose asked me to invest for him. I wanted your name to stand well after we - were gone. I was under obligations to Mr. Vose and when I told him we had - a big deal on I could give him no good reason why I would not turn a - little profit his way. That’s why the man Bailey is so sure that your - credit is now good. You’ll find that the news has gone all about the - section—” - </p> - <p> - “They’ll be jumping on me for the money I owe!” snarled the judge. “Vose - has ruined me if he has bragged. You have—” - </p> - <p> - “Just a moment, sir, before you say something you’ll be sorry for. It’s - just the other way, I’ll warrant! Men will bring more money to you. You - can be shrewd and work out of your troubles. Your credit is established. I - made a good play when I did it.” - </p> - <p> - “You say there’s a thousand dollars in that envelope?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir! I have handed the other packets to you. I propose to give Mr. - Vose five hundred dollars profit—and after I have done that you’ll - get the best advertising you ever had. They’ll rate you mighty high in - these parts. Five hundred is a cheap price for what you’ll get.” - </p> - <p> - “But I need every cent just now to tide me over,” he whined. “You are - throwing money away recklessly. Vose can be taken care of some time. Give - him his own five hundred—or—or—say it has been invested - for him. I will attend to his case later.” - </p> - <p> - And do you know what that old rhinoceros did? He reached out his paw to - take that packet. I had to pound my fist on his fingers to make him let - go. - </p> - <p> - He stood up and called me names—said that I was taking money he - needed. I suppose I ought to have made allowances for the state of mind he - was in—his fears—his weakness of old age—his dreadful - anxiety which still goaded him. - </p> - <p> - But I was in a bad way, myself, and I could not pardon that selfishness. - </p> - <p> - “Confound you,” I yelled, “I have a mind to back you against the wall and - strip every dollar out of your pockets!” - </p> - <p> - And then we heard a noise and we turned around, and there stood Celene - Kingsley looking at us—looking at me especially with hatred and - horror. - </p> - <p> - “Father!” she cried. “Shall I run and call help? He is robbing you!” - </p> - <p> - I certainly could not say a word just then, and the judge sat down and - gasped and gaped at her. - </p> - <p> - She came into the room. She was white and pale and thin, but she was no - shrinking and anguished maiden. She was showing the female’s ferocity in - guarding her own. - </p> - <p> - “I heard you! Confessing that you’re a robber out of your own mouth! Where - have you been with my poor father? What devilish spell have you put on him—you - and the rest of your gang?” - </p> - <p> - She turned away from me. - </p> - <p> - “Father, don’t you realize that you have come home when it is too late? - Oh, God in heaven, why did you not break away from those rogues and come - home—or write so that we could ransom you? I know. They have kept - you a prisoner!” - </p> - <p> - “Too late?” he looked at his office safe. I knew what he was afraid of. - “Too late?” - </p> - <p> - She began to sob. “It has killed mother!” - </p> - <p> - He got up and staggered to her and took her in his arms. - </p> - <p> - “Your mother dead?” - </p> - <p> - “It’s worse than that! It’s her mind—it has gone, and her body is - following. She hasn’t known me for days. She lies there dying.” - </p> - <p> - I was shocked, but I must confess I did not feel like a murderer. Mrs. - Kingsley had been ill when we went away—she had so declared in my - hearing. - </p> - <p> - “Miss Kingsley,” I put in, “I’m sorry, but your father and I—” - </p> - <p> - Her tears ceased and she turned on me in a fury. I knew something about - the Kingsley disposition, but I did not know before that she had so much - of it in her. - </p> - <p> - “Sorry! You sorry? I know about you, you miserable low-lived wretch! I - have been hunting for my father. Do you think I would look down on my - dying mother and not spend every cent I had in trying to find where you - had taken him? My detectives have been on that trail you left in the - city!” - </p> - <p> - Able detectives! On the cold and easy trail instead of nosing on the warm - one! - </p> - <p> - “But please listen to me—” - </p> - <p> - “To more of your lies? No! I know you for what you are—hiding from - the police in the city—coming back here to finish the ruin of my - innocent father after your friends had been, sent here by you to rob him. - You don’t dare to deny what you have been in the city! Your face convicts - you!” > - </p> - <p> - I was perfectly conscious that I was not presenting any lamb-like picture - of innocence. She certainly had me on the run when she burst out with that - exposure of my city record. But I did not propose to lie down and stick up - my feet like a calf ticketed for the butcher. - </p> - <p> - “Miss Kingsley,” I said, slapping the packet of money across my palm—and - that was a poor tool to use for emphasis after she had heard my talk to - her father, “you must listen—” - </p> - <p> - “I have been listening just now! I heard you threaten to strip my poor - father of every cent he has in the world! Do you deny you said it?” - </p> - <p> - “No, but—” - </p> - <p> - “Do you deny that you have been the sort of a man I have said you were?” - </p> - <p> - She rushed at me, her hands like claws. I was reminded of a sight I had - witnessed in boyhood—a shrieking meadow-thrush defending her nest - against a sneaking snake. - </p> - <p> - I looked past her toward the judge. I did hope he would say something, - even though I did not expect that he would come out with the whole truth. - Honestly, I would have stopped him short if he had started to confess to - her anything about the real reason why I was mixed into his affairs. Had - not the whole expedition been planned so that the women folks would not - know? - </p> - <p> - Nevertheless, a decent man in his right senses could have made some sort - of talk to help me out. But it was plain enough that Judge Kingsley was - not in his right senses—he did not seem to have much of any sense - left in him; he was doddering around the room, twisting his hands and - accusing himself of having killed his wife. - </p> - <p> - “Please listen,” I implored. “You have heard only one side—” - </p> - <p> - “I will not listen! You, your uncle, the renegades you associate with, you - have tried to ruin my father. You weren’t even decent enough to be an open - enemy—you came sneaking into our home to lie to us and deceive us.” - </p> - <p> - “By the gods,” I shouted, “you will listen to me! I don’t propose to be - kicked around from pillar to post all my life. I am the best friend the - Kingsley family ever had. If your father doesn’t tell you so, I will. - Judge Kingsley, why don’t you be a man?” - </p> - <p> - But he gave me a fishy look and went on lamenting. - </p> - <p> - She started for the door. “There are honest men in this village—I’m - going to call them!” - </p> - <p> - But I got to the door ahead of her. - </p> - <p> - “There’s another time coming—a better time for an explanation—and - you’ll be the sorriest girl in the world.” - </p> - <p> - “I can never be as sorry as I am now—sorry and ashamed! To think - that I ever put confidence in a creature by the name of Sidney!” - </p> - <p> - What a glorious home-coming for the paragon of selfsacrifice! - </p> - <p> - I walked around the square half a dozen times before I dared to go into - the tavern. I don’t know how I ever got through that interview with - Dodovah Vose without betraying my state of mind, but I managed it and - excused my peculiarity by saying that I was all worn out by my trip. And - he had too much on his own mind in a few minutes to pay special attention - to me, for I handed him one thousand dollars and went up to my room - without bothering to contradict his excited guessings that the judge and I - had cleaned up a fortune. Kingsley, I reflected, might as well have the - benefit of the guessing. And, it must be known, hope was not dead in me in - spite of my agony. - </p> - <p> - Something else was very much alive in me. Blackleg, eh? Flashy rogue! - Barker for gamblers! - </p> - <p> - I took off that plug-hat, held it in both hands, and put my foot through - the crown; then I kicked it all around the room. I stripped off that - frock-coat, grabbed the tails and ripped it into two parts. - </p> - <p> - Then I went to the closet and surveyed that ready-made suit and the - billycock hat with content. - </p> - <p> - In the morning I would be Ross Sidney, professional diver, ready to go - back on the job if there was any such thing as a job for me in all the - world. I hoped I would be sane once more when I opened my eyes on a new - day. I yanked that fancy waistcoat into ribbons, threw the pearl-gray - trousers under the bed, and hurried to go to sleep so that I would not - become completely crazy before I could forget my troubles. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0026" id="link2H_4_0026"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - XXV—GRATITUDE! - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HERE surely is a - lot in this conscious-virtue notion! I had plenty of the quality next - morning. - </p> - <p> - Things seemed brighter. I felt like myself once more. It was inconceivable - that the horrible misunderstanding between Celene Kingsley and myself - could continue very long; I was ready to make confession as to my - temporary lunacy in the city, and my new optimism encouraged me to believe - that she would find excuse for me. At any rate, I was soon assured that - whatever she had learned from that detective, whoever he was, she had kept - it to herself. From that reticence I drew excellent augury that she was - not out to ruin me. If she had opened her mouth about my past I would have - known it the moment I stepped out on the street in Levant. But every - person I met ducked polite salute, and I met many persons because the - village was full on account; of the town meeting. - </p> - <p> - At ten o’clock the town hall was crowded and in a short time the - cut-and-dried preliminaries were over. - </p> - <p> - My uncle was with his associates on the platform, and the stare he gave me - when he caught my eyes was so demoniac that I was careful not to look his - way again for some time. - </p> - <p> - There was evidence of strained anticipation everywhere in the gathering. I - heard voters whispering that Deck Sidney proposed to spring something. But - nobody, according to what I could hear, presumed to put in words what they - guessed. - </p> - <p> - My uncle was mashing his personal batteries, I saw. - </p> - <p> - An unemotional lawyer explained the purpose of the meeting, and then the - moderator called on Judge Kingsley, as town treasurer, to give the - financial standing of the town. - </p> - <p> - Uncle Deck fairly bored the judge with his gaze when the old man walked to - the platform and I was as intent with my scrutiny, for I was wondering how - Kingsley would get through with it. He was white and somewhat shaky, but - he was the same old cold proposition when he faced the voters. - </p> - <p> - “I hope you will pardon a word on a personal matter,” he said, as he - unfolded his papers; “but I have returned from a business trip and find - serious illness in my family. I have been keeping watch at the bedside of - my dear wife and my thoughts are not clear enough to enable me to make the - little address I had contemplated for to-day. I will only say that the - movement to clear the town of its debt is very praiseworthy and my report - will show that the thing may be done with a little extra effort. Our only - considerable indebtedness consists of town bonds amounting to eight - thousand dollars and current items as follows.” Then he went on to give - the list of unpaid town orders, of which only a few were extant. “I see - here representatives of the bondholders,” he added, “who will check my - figures if such assurance is required by any voter—and probably most - of the parties who hold town orders are in the meeting. I hope the town - orders will be presented for payment at once so that there may be no - floating indebtedness.” He folded up his papers. - </p> - <p> - My uncle got up and stamped down his trousers legs. - </p> - <p> - “Now, you voters,” he called, “ask your questions!” - </p> - <p> - But not a voice was raised. - </p> - <p> - “I’m no lawyer and I’m making no threats,” my uncle went on. “But after - the way this meeting has been advertised, and after the call that has been - made, I reckon that the men who have been holding out claims against this - town and who haven’t presented them will be left to whistle for their - money. I propose to have action taken that will outlaw those claims.” - </p> - <p> - Judge Kingsley turned slowly on my uncle and stood as stiff as a stake. - </p> - <p> - “To what claims do you refer, Selectman Sidney? Do you question the - accuracy of my report?” - </p> - <p> - “Come out of your holes, you old woodchucks!” shouted Uncle Deck, looking - past the judge at the voters. Men scowled at him and grumbled. - </p> - <p> - The judge walked toward the First Selectman and shook his papers. - </p> - <p> - “You must talk to me, sir! I am the treasurer of this town and have been - for a good many years. Here before the voters I demand that you specify - claims.” - </p> - <p> - “I’ll specify, then! How about the town notes that are out with your name - on them?” - </p> - <p> - A murmur ran through the assemblage. - </p> - <p> - “Just one moment, sir! Weigh your words,” warned the judge. “You are - attacking my financial reputation; there is a law for slanderers and I - have many witnesses here. Do you say there is one single town note extant - with my name on it?” - </p> - <p> - “I say there are a lot of ’em!” - </p> - <p> - This time many voters raised voices of protest and there were hisses. - </p> - <p> - “That’s the thanks a straight man gets for trying to protect his town - against a thief, eh?” raged my uncle, his ready temper bursting loose. - </p> - <p> - “If the judge don’t collect fifty thousand dollars damages for this, then - I’m no guesser,” declared Dodovah Vose, who sat beside me. - </p> - <p> - Uncle Deck tramped to the edge of the platform and with wagging finger - selected a man in the throng; the man was Farmer Bailey. - </p> - <p> - “Bailey, you hold a town note with Kingsley’s name on it! You know you do! - Are you going to sit there and see it canceled as no good by the vote of - this town?” - </p> - <p> - Bailey rose slowly and everybody listened in deep silence. - </p> - <p> - “I hold no note of any kind with Judge Kingsley’s name on it.” - </p> - <p> - “Yah-h-h! You have told me that before. But you don’t dare to stand here - in town meeting and say it under oath.” - </p> - <p> - “Send down that Bible on the stand and I’ll take oath and kiss the Book,” - offered Bailey. There was applause and the judge quieted it by raising his - hand. - </p> - <p> - “I will pay double for any note with my name on it as treasurer, and I - will turn the money over to the town as a gift,” he said. - </p> - <p> - I despised him when he made that bluff, though of course he had to do it. - Really, in spite of his devilish temper and his spirit of revenge my uncle - was twice the man Judge Kingsley was in that moment. I wasn’t trying to - figure out the righteousness of the thing on either side; the judge was - fighting for his very life, as well as his standing, and my uncle, though - he was working for the good of the town according to his lights, was - satisfying his old grudge—the real passion of his life. - </p> - <p> - A voter rose and bellowed until he secured silence; they were giving the - judge an ovation. - </p> - <p> - “I want to put in a word here, fellow-townsmen! Money has been borrowed on - town notes. A certain eminent man you all know tried to borrow from me and - said I could escape taxation. And now he is backed by the liars—” - </p> - <p> - “And barked at by the liars, too,” yelled another man. - </p> - <p> - “I stand up here for Selectman Sidney, who has given his time and effort - to help this town out of the clutches—” - </p> - <p> - They howled him down. But by this time the defenders of my uncle were - howling, too. - </p> - <p> - “This meeting is going to break up in a free fight if a stop isn’t put to - this jawing,” said Dodovah Vose. He jumped up on the settee and made - himself heard. “I move we adjourn!” - </p> - <p> - The apprehensive moderator put the motion, the judge’s friends carried it, - and the meeting was dissolved. - </p> - <p> - My uncle leaped off the platform and came raging at me through the crowd. - </p> - <p> - “It’s you—you damnation imp of Gehenna! Racing and chasing over this - town yesterday! I had a line on you. Saving that old whelp from what was - coming to him!” He put his hands over his head and wriggled his fingers. - “God! I don’t know what you have done—you got that money by robbing - a bank, probably. But you have done it—you have jumped up and down - on your family! You have got to answer to me!” - </p> - <p> - Men pushed away in panic and left us in a ring. But I had no notion of - entertaining the old goggle-eyes of Levant by fisticuffs with my uncle. I - folded my arms. - </p> - <p> - “According to your reckoning, Uncle Deck, I have owed you something for a - long time. I want to stand square with you! Go ahead and collect!” - </p> - <p> - He did not seem to understand at once. - </p> - <p> - “Go ahead and beat me up! I won’t raise a finger.” Yes, I would have taken - the beating—I knew inside of me that I did owe my uncle something of - the sort. - </p> - <p> - “Not by a dam-site, he sha’n’t beat you up,” declared Dodovah Vose. “I - saved you from him once,” he said, careless of revelations, “and I’ll save - you again.” - </p> - <p> - So, after waiting a minute and enduring my uncle’s tongue instead of his - fists, I went away with Landlord Vose. - </p> - <p> - I was not in the mood for any further paltering or palavering in regard to - my personal and private standing with the Kingsley family. I had a - collection to make and I proposed to go and make it. I ought to have known - better than to force the issue at that time. But youth is headstrong, the - sense of my injuries was hot, and I felt that if ever the judge might be - willing to show his gratitude that would be the time. - </p> - <p> - He was crossing the square on his way home and I left Mr. Vose and hurried - after. I caught up with him at the front door. - </p> - <p> - “I want to come in and have a word with you and with your daughter,” I - told him. - </p> - <p> - “Impossible,” he said, curtly. “I’m afraid my wife is at death’s door. And - my daughter—she is very bitter!” - </p> - <p> - “I propose to have you explain enough so that she will not be bitter, sir. - It’s my due. You know what kind of a service I have rendered. I have made - an enemy of my uncle—ruined all my prospects to help you. There are - things you can tell your daughter to—” - </p> - <p> - “How does my daughter enter into any affairs between you and myself? You - must let me alone in my sorrow. Later I will pay you for your services. I - am grateful. If I were not in such distress I would explain how grateful I - am. I will pray that I may be spared till I can pay back to you what I - owe.” - </p> - <p> - “Good Cæsar! I don’t want your money, Judge Kingsley. I’ll work and earn - more to help you out of your difficulties. I only ask you to be a man and - make your daughter understand—” - </p> - <p> - “My daughter again! You don’t presume—” - </p> - <p> - “I do presume, sir. She was kind to me until this horrible - misunderstanding came up. I expect you to tell her that I am your best - friend. It’s my right!” - </p> - <p> - I’ll never forget the look he gave me. I’ll wager a good bit that the idea - of such enormity on my part never came into his Kingsley consciousness - till that moment. Even then he did not seem to be just sure that he - understood. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t expect anything definite from you or her, Judge Kingsley, until I - have made good in the world. But I do look to you to give me a square - deal. That’s only what you owe to me, man to man.” - </p> - <p> - “I owe you money and I will pay it. There is no other sort of bargain - between us.” - </p> - <p> - He stepped into his house and shut the door in my face. - </p> - <p> - In that damnable situation I was minded to follow him and have it out, - even if I were obliged to expose him. However, if death were hovering over - that house it was a sanctuary I could not invade. But bitter thoughts - raged in me when I turned away; I only asked to be set right with Celene. - </p> - <p> - I understand that this part of my confession will elicit little sympathy - for me from the casual reader who takes the comfortable view that the - world is full of girls and if one does not swing low enough on the bough - there’s always another within reach. But mine was the exceptional case - where the first love had become an obsession and all my spirit of - persistency was flaming in me. I have not figured out as yet whether the - troubles into which my general persistency in all matters has slammed me - overbalance the fruits it has brought to me—but I reckon, after all, - I’ll have to take my hat off to my persistency. If I had been a quitter I - would not have played the biggest game in my life—and I’m coming to - that right soon. - </p> - <p> - Once more circumstances were forcing me, though I needed mighty little - forcing, to leave Levant at that juncture in my affairs. - </p> - <p> - “Damn ’em!” I blazed out to Dodovah Vose when I stamped into the - tavern, “I’ve got to show ’em! I’ll show ’em I can make - good.” - </p> - <p> - He blinked at me. - </p> - <p> - “But you have shown ’em already,” he said. He thought, of course, - that I was speaking about the general public in Levant. “And if I was in - your place I wouldn’t give a dam what your uncle says to you.” - </p> - <p> - Less than two hours later Landlord Vose revised that advice. He rushed up - to my room where I was sorting some papers, having resolved to travel - light when I did go. - </p> - <p> - “Get under—get under, young Sidney,” he gasped. - </p> - <p> - “Under what?” - </p> - <p> - “I reckon I mean get out. It’s your uncle Deck! Bailey and some other of - them yawp-mouths in this place have been twitting and tormenting him and - dropping hints, and he’s worse than a sore-eared bulldog after a - scruffing. He’s coming with a double-barreled shot-gun. He is! He’s drunk, - son, and there’s no dealing with him. He lays it all to you!” - </p> - <p> - “I won’t run.” - </p> - <p> - “But he isn’t responsible, son. To say nothing of what will happen to you, - it means that he’ll go to State prison. You’re sane and sober and you - ought to be willing to save him from himself.” - </p> - <p> - Right then Mr. Vose said something which appealed to me. I had stepped - outside my family—I had conspired against my uncle—I had - blocked his dearest ambition, iniquitous though it was. By hanging around - and allowing him to take pot-shots at me I would be aggravating his - troubles and bringing more serious afflictions upon him. A dead nephew, - shot-riddled, would be a damning exhibit A in his trial for murder! - </p> - <p> - I picked up my few belongings and escaped from the back door of the - tavern, hid in a cross-road till Dodovah Vose’s stableman came with a - hitch, and I caught a train at a station down the line; hustling out of my - native town on the run, by dint of practice, was getting to be one of the - best performances in my list of tricks. - </p> - <p> - I counted my money when I was on my way to the city. I had not been - keeping any strict account between the judge and myself; from the common - stock I had been paying expenses and spending as loose as peas in order to - hasten our journey back East. I found around two hundred and fifty dollars - in my pockets, and I reflected, with a sort of grim zest in the humor of - the thing, that I could fairly claim most of this money as my own—the - tainted cash from my poker profits. - </p> - <p> - I went straight to Jodrey Vose when I arrived in the metropolis and he - looked neither surprised nor overjoyed. - </p> - <p> - “Where have you been?” he inquired. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, sort of loafing around up-country—killing time!” - </p> - <p> - He squinted at me sourly. - </p> - <p> - “I can’t say that you’re doing any great credit to my training, young - Sidney!” - </p> - <p> - “You are right, Captain Vose, but I’m turning over a new leaf and I’m out - to make good. I am hoping that I can do something in the case of Anson C. - Doughty so that I can get back into the diving business and keep on the - job hereafter.” - </p> - <p> - “Then you’ll go back to diving and keep out from under plug-hats, will - you?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir!” - </p> - <p> - He looked at me for a long time and then he pulled out a letter. - </p> - <p> - “This here,” he said, tapping it, “is something more about that <i>Golden - Gate</i> treasure. There’s a new crowd on the rampage about it. From - somebody in the old crowd they have got hold of my name. I came nigh - trying it on once, as I have told you. But it’s a gamble; I am old and I - don’t want it. You are young and there’s nothing as yet for you on the - Atlantic coast, and you might grab in on this. They want an Eastern diver - because the divers out there are tied up with the big concerns and can’t - be depended on to keep their mouths shut—so this letter says.” - </p> - <p> - “Probably it’s a pretty uncertain proposition, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, you don’t expect to fall into anything very certain, do you, a - diver blacklisted from Kittery to the Keys?” he demanded, tartly. - </p> - <p> - “No, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “I know nothing about these people, their plans, or anything. But I’ll do - this for you, if you want me to. I’ll wire this party and tell him I am - sending you on. After you are started you can post him from some place as - to when you’ll arrive. Better give him a wire from time to time to keep - his interest up. How’s your wallet?” - </p> - <p> - “I think it’s all right, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “If you’re lying to me that’s your own lookout. Haven’t sold your - diving-dress, have you?” - </p> - <p> - “I have it safe in storage, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I’m glad you kept remembering that you’re a diver—and the - best one I ever turned out!” That was the first word of high praise he had - given me. He got up and shook my hand. “Now go dive, son, and after you - raise that four million from the wreck of the Golden Gate come back and - tell me all about it.” - </p> - <p> - I did not linger in the city; there were too many possibilities in the way - of Dawlins and Doughtys. - </p> - <p> - Two hours later I was headed across the continent with my diving-dress in - its canvas bag and the address of one Captain Rask Holstrom written in my - note-book. I was pretty dizzy with the haste of it all and felt like the - human shuttle between oceans—but I possessed considerable more - serenity than I did when I began that lunatic lope with Judge Kingsley. - </p> - <p> - I had framed a motto and hung it in my soul—“I’ll show ’em!” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0027" id="link2H_4_0027"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - XXVI—CAPTAIN HOLSTROM ET AL. - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">M</span>Y face was set to - the West, to be sure, but my thoughts were traveling back over my shoulder - to the East. I wish I could say that a lively sense of injury enabled me - to put out of my mind Levant and everybody in Levant—box and dice! - But I’m not much of a liar. - </p> - <p> - I do not propose to dwell on the bitterness which stuck in me day after - day, along with softer sentiments. This narrative goes into a gallop at - about this point and there is no time to be wasted on self-communings. - However, if I do not mention my old home and the folks back there it must - not be understood that the problem of my life ceased to go to bed with me, - rise with me, and keep pace with me as I hurried through the day’s work. I - obeyed Jodrey Vose’s counsel about giving bulletins of my progress west. - After I had bought my railroad ticket and had counted up, I felt that I - could not afford to take any chances on those strangers losing their - interest in me. I needed a job almighty sudden after I landed in San - Francisco. - </p> - <p> - On the last leg of the journey I was able to forecast the hour of my - arrival and I suggested by wire that somebody meet me—knowing that - my diver’s kit in its duck bag would be identification enough. This - telegraph business was shooting arrows into the air and I would have - welcomed a return message; I thought they ought to be able to guess - closely enough to intercept me somewhere along the line. But, although no - answer came, I had the comfortable feeling that they’d be likely to be on - the lookout for me. And at last I got my first peek at Pacific waters. - </p> - <p> - Our train was hung up outside the yard over in Oakland while they opened - our track to the ferry, and a chap I had chatted with more or less in the - smoking-room on the trip, and who knew my business, rushed out, climbed - down beside the roadbed, and scooped a tumblerful of water. He ran back - into the car and dumped the water over me for a joke, and I’m so - accustomed to water that the joke did not jar me. I took it as it was - meant. - </p> - <p> - “I baptize thee in the name of the Pacific,” he said. “Now I hope the old - dame will be good to you in your line.” - </p> - <p> - Well, whether she was or not depends on how one looks at those things. - </p> - <p> - I walked slowly through the ferry-house, hoping to be hailed, and stepped - out on to the foot of Market Street into the old San Francisco of the days - before the great calamity. In my right hand I tugged along the duck bag - that was bulging with my diving equipment. In my left hand I had the rest - of my earthly possessions in a grip which was about the size of a ten-cent - loaf of bread. It was early evening, and all the lights were aglare. - </p> - <p> - There was a turn-table for the cable cars at the foot of Market Street. - The cars were coming down in constant procession, and the turn-table was - busy. It was a regular merry-go-round kind of an affair. It interested me, - but it didn’t interest me so much that I had no eye for a girl who stood - beside me at the edge of the thing. It seemed to me right then—fresh - from a tedious train ride, where I’d been penned in with a frumpy set of - women passengers—that I had never seen a prettier girl. She had her - finger pointed at some one on the turn-table, and was saying “Father!” - over and over, with a new inflection on the word every time she spoke it. - Her finger traveled as the table revolved, and I was able to pick out - father fight away. I was right-down sorry for that girl when I laid eyes - on father. Father was grinning like a sculpin in deep water, and he was - good and drunk, and he was evidently taking a joy ride on that turn-table. - </p> - <p> - It struck me right then, as a stranger, that San Francisco had a good - trait pretty well developed; it was willing to let a man mind his own - business as long as he didn’t make too much of a nuisance of himself. The - street-car men did not push father off the turn-table, and two policemen - took a look at him and went off about their business. - </p> - <p> - I took a good look at the man, too, when the turntable brought him near me - and stopped to let a car on. He had a face about as square as the front of - a safe, and his nose was the shape of a safety-lock knob, and was red. His - pot-bellied body was set on legs like crooked wharf pilings. I had father - sized up in a second. Double-breasted blue coat, cap of blue, with the - peak pulled rakishly down over one eye, gray beard which radiated in - spills from his chin like tiller spokes—he was a steamboat man, - sure! I don’t know what in the devil possessed me to butt in and make - certain—perhaps I wanted to start something so as to get a rise out - of the girl. I’m not naturally fresh and you may be sure I was in no mood - for a flirtation. I was crusted with Yankee reserve even when I was young. - But that impish air of San Francisco was in my nostrils—did you ever - sniff it? It makes your head buzz and your thoughts froth, and it takes - hold of an Easterner as quickly as a stiff cocktail grabs a man who isn’t - used to a mixed drink. You’ll do almost anything in San Francisco when the - sparkle from that trade-wind gets into your lungs. - </p> - <p> - So I tipped father the wink. - </p> - <p> - “Give her the jingle when she starts again,” I said. - </p> - <p> - I was right in my guess. He crooked his forefinger, reached down, and - yanked empty air. - </p> - <p> - “Clang!” he barked. In a few seconds the turntable began to revolve again. - Father gave me as silly a grin as I ever saw on a grown-up man’s face. - “Yingleyingle—yingle!” he yelled in falsetto. And away he went! - </p> - <p> - I never got a more awful look from a pretty girl than I got from that one - when I turned and caught her eyes. There was nothing shrinking or bashful - about her when she was mad, so I found out then and there. - </p> - <p> - “You fool! You have started him all over again.” - </p> - <p> - “He seemed to be well started before I came along, miss.” It was that - confounded air that was making me reckless and saucy. - </p> - <p> - “Clang!” yelped father, coming around again. “Yingle—yingle—yingle! - Pull in them port fenders and mouse that anchor; we’re going outside this - trip.” - </p> - <p> - “Just see the fool notion you have gone and put into him when he was all - ready to come along with me!” she blazed. She knocked her little knuckles - together in as fine a state of temper as I ever viewed spouting in a - female. She turned suddenly and drove one of her fists against a man whom - I had not noticed till then. He was tall—as long as the moral law, - as we say East—as thin as a pump-handle, and he had a tangle of gray - whisker and beard on top of him that made him look like a window-mop. He - fell down when she hit him. She kicked him with the point of a little - shoe, and he came up, unfolding in sections like a carpenter’s two-foot - rule. - </p> - <p> - “Slap this man’s face, Ike, and send him along about his business,” she - commanded. - </p> - <p> - But he only teetered and grinned and drooled, and winked at me over her - shoulder. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you are only another drunken fool!” she raged; and she stretched on - tiptoe, and beat his face with the flat of her hand. “You have stood here - without putting up a finger to help me get him off that turn-table, where - he’s disgracing himself. I wonder whether there are any real men left in - San Francisco!” She was in such a state of mind that I was mighty ashamed - by then, I tell you that! - </p> - <p> - I dropped my baggage and took off my hat. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t know much about San Francisco and the real men, miss,” I told - her, “for I’ve been in town only about five minutes. I reckon it makes an - Easterner dizzy to be rushed in and dropped here. I didn’t mean to make - trouble for you. Seeing that I’ve made it, I’ll unmake it if I can. Do you - want your father—saying it is your father—brought off that - turn-table?” - </p> - <p> - “No!” she snapped, still spiteful and all worked up. “I want you to think - up something else for him to do on there as soon as he gets tired of doing - what you suggested.” - </p> - <p> - Well, it was up to me to butt into that affair still farther—I could - see that. I couldn’t sneak off and leave that girl feeling that way about - me. I hopped on to the moving turn-table, took father by the arm, and told - him his daughter wanted him to come along. He braced himself and shook - loose. - </p> - <p> - “Nossir,” said he. “I’ve paid my money, and I’ll stay aboard till I get to - where I’m bound.” - </p> - <p> - “Look here, you are not getting anywhere, man. You are only riding around - and around, making a show of yourself, and there’s your nice daughter - waiting for you.” - </p> - <p> - “It’s no place for a daughter—going where I’m going. Daughter ought - to be in bed.” And then he braced himself back still farther, and—well, - I suppose I’ll have to call it “singing” in order to describe the sound:= - </p> - <p> - ````"I’m bound for the foot of Telegraph Hill, - </p> - <p> - `````To the Barbary Coast so gay. - </p> - <p> - ````I’m starting there for a peach of a tear—fill - </p> - <p> - `````’Em up all round—hooray!”= - </p> - <p> - I took hold of his arm once more, and it was some arm. - </p> - <p> - “Look here,” he snarled, squinting at me, “I don’t know who you are, but - I’ll let you know who I am blamed quick.” - </p> - <p> - I don’t know just what he might have done to me if he had been sober—but - he wasn’t sober. I was, and my line of work had made me lithe and quick. I - snapped my man before he had time to open his mouth, and ran him off that - turn-table and presented him to his daughter with my compliments. He - kicked and thrashed around in a logy style, and I kept him circling so - that he could not get foothold, on the same principle that you keep a - boa-constrictor from hooking his tail around a tree. - </p> - <p> - “Where will you have him delivered, miss?” I asked, as politely as I - could. - </p> - <p> - “Father, you come along with me this instant!” she cried. “We don’t want - strangers interfering in our affairs any longer.” She said that to him for - my benefit. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t mean to be interfering, miss,” I pleaded. “I only want to square - myself for being thoughtless and starting trouble for you—more - trouble, I mean.” - </p> - <p> - She put her hand against me and pushed me away from her father—no, I - can hardly say that I was pushed away. That hand was too little to push a - man of my size. But the gesture of pushing was enough for me. I let him - loose. She reached for his ear, but he dodged away, cantering like a - cart-horse, and whooped that he was bound for the “Barbary Coast.” The - human belay-ing-pin with the oakum topknot followed, plainly relishing the - fact that the procession had started. The girl took a few steps in - pursuit, and then she stopped and began to cry. She had grit—I had - seen that—but after a girl gets about so mad she has to cry on - general principles. - </p> - <p> - “Look here,” I told her, “I’m a stranger, all right, but you need a man’s - help right now. I’ll help for every ounce that’s in me if you’ll say the - word. But I’m a Yankee and I need to be asked.” - </p> - <p> - “He has a lot of money in his pockets,” she sobbed. “He must pay out that - money to-morrow morning. He will be butchered and robbed where he’s going. - I never saw him so silly and obstinate before. His head has been turned by - some good luck which has come to him. He—” - </p> - <p> - “I haven’t got time to listen to details, miss. He’s getting out of sight. - I’ve got to work quick. I’m square and decent and honest, and I’m mighty - sorry for the scrape you are in. Do you want me to chase that father of - yours for you?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” she gasped; “yes, I do.” - </p> - <p> - “About all I’m worth in the world is in that bag there. It’s my - diving-dress. I’ve got to leave it.” - </p> - <p> - “Your name is Sidney!” she cried, her eyes opening wide on me. “You’re the - man we came to meet!” - </p> - <p> - So, after all, I had butted in on my reception committee! “And that’s - Captain Holstrom?” I demanded, pointing up the street. - </p> - <p> - “Yes! Yes! Hurry, sir. I will watch your bag! I will stay here. Hurry, - sir! He has gone up Market Street, but he’ll turn to the right pretty - soon. That’s the way to the horrible Barbary Coast.” - </p> - <p> - I patted her shoulder—I couldn’t help it. She looked up at me - through her tears. And off I hiked, leaving my earthly possessions in - charge of a girl whom I had met for the first time less than ten minutes - before. - </p> - <p> - Of course, I knew what every one knows, whether he has been in San - Francisco or not, that Market Street cuts straight across the city from - bay to ocean. But at just what street on the course Captain Rask Holstrom - proceeded to port his helm and swing to starboard blessed if I had the - least idea. I didn’t know the name of another street in the city. I knew - what the Barbary Coast was in San Francisco. I had read descriptions of - its dance-halls, its dens, its haunts of iniquity, and its dangers. And - here I was, galloping straight toward it before the creases of a railroad - journey across the continent were out of my clothes. That is to say, I - hoped I was galloping toward it, for I wanted to catch father for that - nice girl. Captain Holstrom was out of sight among the crowds on that long - Market Street before I had started the chase. I didn’t dare to run too - fast. - </p> - <p> - San Francisco, as I have said, seemed to be inclined to let a man tend to - his own business, but I didn’t want to provoke some ass to start a “stop - thief” yell behind me. I craned and peered ahead as I trotted on. I - stopped for a moment at the head of streets which led away to the right—the - girl had said he would turn to the right—but I caught no glimpse of - a bobbing blue cap nor of a lofty thatch of grizzled beard and whisker. - </p> - <p> - I took a chance after a while, for Market Street showed ahead an upward - slope and I couldn’t spot my man there. I turned off to the right, and - hurried. I didn’t know what street I was on. I came to a square at last - where there were a statue and a fountain, and there were large buildings - on the right. I ran across the square, and the next moment I realized that - I was in Chinatown—and I had read of that part of San Francisco, - too. I knew then that I was headed toward the Barbary Coast all right, - having a memory of what I had read. But in a few minutes I was lost in a - maze of narrow streets which traveled up and down the little hills. I was - peering and goggling here and there. I must have looked like a tourist - trying to do Chinatown in record time. I came into a street or alley that - was roofed—and I came out again, for it seemed to be closed in at - the upper end. By that time I realized that not only had I lost Capt. Rask - Holstrom, but that I had also succeeded in losing myself—a rather - silly predicament for a young man who so boldly offered himself as knight - errant to a damsel in distress. - </p> - <p> - I stood still and wiped sweat out of my eyes, and addressed a few pregnant - remarks to myself on the subject of a man’s making a fool of himself for a - woman. However, I had a mighty good reason of my own for wanting to meet - up with Captain Holstrom—and to safeguard that money of his, for I - hoped to rake some of it down in wages. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0028" id="link2H_4_0028"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - XXVII—MR. BEASON HORNS IN - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span> WHITE-LIVERED, - sneaky-looking chap sidled up to me and stuck out a dirty card. - </p> - <p> - “That’s my name on there,” said he; “Jake Beason, and I’m the best - Chinatown guide that’s on the beat; I’ll show you everything from - joss-house to hop-holes.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you know the Barbary Coast?” - </p> - <p> - “Do I know—Oh, come now! Why, say, I live over that way,” he snarled - through the corner of his mouth; and he looked at me as though I had - insulted his intelligence. - </p> - <p> - I decided that I would be plain and direct with that chap. - </p> - <p> - “I’m on the trail of a steamboat captain by the name of Holstrom, and he - is two-thirds pickled, and has money on him. Do you think you know the - places where a man like that would be likely to drop in?” - </p> - <p> - “What’s the lay—a touch and a divvy?” - </p> - <p> - “Nothing of the kind. I’m his friend, and I want to catch him and take him - home out of trouble.” - </p> - <p> - “The same old stall,” he sneered. “You’ve got to let me be a friend, too.” - </p> - <p> - I reached out and got my crowbar clutch on that fellow. “I don’t suppose - you ever had a man tell you the truth, son,” I said, “so I’m not going to - blame you much. I say that I’m after this man to take him home to his - daughter. That’s truth, and it’s on my say-so. If you propose to call me a - liar, out with it, and we’ll settle the thing.” - </p> - <p> - “She stands as you say—and you needn’t pinch so,” he whined. - </p> - <p> - There’s nothing like a good grip to press home conviction in a sneak. - </p> - <p> - “I’ll give you ten dollars if you’ll locate that man for me before the - evening is over,” I told him. “I’ll make it twenty dollars if you’ll turn - the trick inside of an hour.” - </p> - <p> - “I know all the joints—I know the steamboat hangouts.” - </p> - <p> - “It ought to be an easy trick. He is with an old belay-ing-pin who has - enough hair on his head and face to stuff a bolster—and I heard - somebody call him Ike.” - </p> - <p> - “Aw, that’s ‘Ingot Ike.’ Everybody between Dupont Street and Telegraph - Hill knows that old hornbeam and his everlasting hum about three million - dollars’ worth of buried gold ingots. Come along! I ought to pull down - that twenty easy.” - </p> - <p> - “Let me tell you one thing,” I said, chasing along with him. “I’m not - worth robbing. I’m going to keep close to you, and if you put me against - any frame-up I’ll get you first, and I’ll get you quick.” And I grabbed - him by the wrist and let him have that honest old grip once more. I kept - hold of him. And led thus like a blind man through this street and that, - by short cuts along dark alleys, across courts, and now and then skirting - vacant lots, we came at last into purlieus that my ears, eyes, and nose - told me must be that “Barbary Coast so gay,” as Captain Holstrom had - caroled. - </p> - <p> - Out of open doors came liquor fumes and music blended, if there is any - such thing as blending noise and odors; the two seemed to be associated - there so regularly and invariably that my senses told me that they were - blended. - </p> - <p> - The women sauntered on the sidewalks; the men loafed there. We two seemed - to be about the only ones who were headed for something definite. - </p> - <p> - “We’ll tap the regular joints first,” said Beason. “If he’s pretty drunk - he won’t be using his mind much to think up new places to go. He’ll fall - into the rut like a ball in a crooked pin-game.” - </p> - <p> - I was young enough to be interested in that panorama of iniquity. I would - have gaped longer than I did in those places, but Mr. Beason proved to be - a very active guide. That matter of twenty dollars proved to be like a bur - under a bronco’s saddle. He would gallop into a place, leave me to goggle - at the antics on the dance floor; he would weasel his way through the - crowd, chop out a few staccato questions, and then yank me out with my - eyes behind me and my chin hanging over my shoulder like the tailboard of - a cart. - </p> - <p> - Beason rattled me down another length of street—and if the folks we - bumped hadn’t known him I reckon we would have had a few things on our - hands besides that man hunt. They all seemed to know Beason. He snapped - questions right and left. - </p> - <p> - All at once my guide got a clue. He barked a few more questions at this - illuminative party, and turned and scooted back along our trail. - </p> - <p> - “The old cuss has taken to a back room,” he gasped. “I ought to have - figured that he would be hiding.” - </p> - <p> - He rushed me around comers, across streets, down alleys, and into more - streets. We came up against a saloon at last where the front window was - lettered in red paint, “Holding Ground Cove.” Knowing, as a deep-sea - diver, that a good holding ground means a mud bottom, I could have thought - up a highly moral and somewhat humorous apothegm on that name for a saloon - if I had had the time; but Mr. Beason was cutting comers on Time that - night. He rushed me into the saloon, into a back room at the rear, and - when he didn’t see what we were looking for up-stairs we went. There were - cribs of private rooms, furnished with bare tables and hard chairs—drinking-rooms. - From the half-open door of one came the cackle of much laughter, and we - peeped in. - </p> - <p> - A girl, whose face was painted in almost as gaudy hues as her red - stockings, was standing on a table in the middle of the little room. - </p> - <p> - Capt. Rask Holstrom was seated in a chair, straddling the back, and was - busily engaged in tickling the girl’s nose with the tip of a very long - peacock feather—and wherever he secured that feather I never found - out. But always leave it to a hilarious drunken man to find something odd - to carry around with him. In the room was the human belaying-pin, also - seated. But his chair had evidently slipped from under him when he tried - to lean against the wall, and he was jack-knifed down in a corner, with - his broomstick legs waving in the air, and was surveying the scene between - that frame. He was squealing laughter in a key that would have put a - guinea-hen out of business. - </p> - <p> - “There’s Ingot Ike,” affirmed Beason, “and if t’other one is your - pertickler friend then I’ll cash in.” - </p> - <p> - He held up his cheap watch, with his dirty forefinger indicating the hour. - </p> - <p> - “I get the twenty with nine minutes’ ‘velvet,’ if that’s your friend.” - </p> - <p> - But Captain Holstrom did not display any very ardent friendship for any - one just then. He turned an especially malevolent stare in my direction - and poised his peacock feather like lance in rest. I could see that - something was going to break loose there mighty soon, and after what I had - told Beason I didn’t want that young sneak to overhear. It would be like - him to come back with a gang and “do” me on the excuse that I was a - stranger who was “frsking” Captain Holstrom for his pocketful. - </p> - <p> - I hauled out two ten-dollar bills mighty quick, and passed them to Beason. - He held one in each hand, pinched between thumb and forefinger, and looked - at them in turn, wrinkling his nose with as much disgust as though he were - holding lizards by the tails. - </p> - <p> - “Soft money,” said he, “and the stink of the East still on it! I’ll bet - you both of these poultices that you haven’t been in San Francisco - twenty-four hours—and how do you happen to be such a pertickler - friend of a China Basin steamboat cap’n, hey?” - </p> - <p> - A freshly arrived Easterner is always given away by his paper money. - </p> - <p> - “Who’s a friend?” inquired Captain Holstrom, the one eye I could see as - staring and as baleful as the “eye” on the peacock feather. - </p> - <p> - “Look-a-here,” said I, bracing up to him savagely, for I knew that soft - soap wouldn’t grease the ways, “I want to know what you mean by running - away from me after my telegrams to you.” - </p> - <p> - I whirled on Beason, pushed him out of the room, and slammed the door in - his face. - </p> - <p> - “You have been paid,” I yelled at him through the crack. “Now, keep your - nose out of the rest of the thing, or I’ll pinch it off.” - </p> - <p> - “See here,” growled Captain Holstrom, vibrating the feather as menacingly - as though it were a sled stake, “don’t you know a private party when you - see one?” - </p> - <p> - I walked right up to him. - </p> - <p> - “My name is Sidney. I’m the diver you are expecting.” - </p> - <p> - “You’re a liar,” he returned, promptly. - </p> - <p> - “I tell you you were down to the ferry to meet me. I pulled you off that - turn-table!” - </p> - <p> - “Who are you?” - </p> - <p> - “I am Ross Sidney, I say! You’re expecting me. I’m a diver.” - </p> - <p> - But he did not show the least evidence of understanding what I was talking - about. It’s a familiar phase of drunkenness in many men—that dogged - determination to hang on to one notion and admit no others. - </p> - <p> - He shook his head and waggled the feather under the girl’s nose. - </p> - <p> - “This is a private party,” he growled. - </p> - <p> - “But your daughter is waiting for you—she is very much worried about - you and the money.” - </p> - <p> - “Say, who does this money and this daughter and this room here belong to, - anyway? Who do I belong to? Who am I? Ain’t I Rask Holstrom, fifty-six - years old, and fully able to take care of myself anywhere between Point - Lobo and India Basin?” He squinted at me along the peacock’s plume. “Who - are <i>you?</i> You say my girl is at the ferry, hey? How do you know she - is there?” He leaned back in his chair, dropped the feather, and yanked a - canvas bag from the right-hand pocket of his trousers. It was a plump bag, - and a heavy bag, and it plainly contained hard money. He banged it down on - the table with such a thump that the girl hopped and squealed, and it - barely missed her toes. He pulled another canvas bag from the left-hand - pocket, and crashed that down. This time he connected with the girl’s - toes. She screamed in pain, leaped down from the table, and began to hop - around the room, kicking her foot out behind her. She stumbled into a - corner, braced herself there, and began to swear volubly, clutching the - tip of her faded red-velvet slipper in both hands. - </p> - <p> - I had not broken in on his monologue. I could not match him in roaring. - Then for the first time he seemed to note that the girl was not in an - amiable state of mind. - </p> - <p> - “You’ve insulted my lady friend. I’ll have your life for that!” He plunged - out of his chair and drove against the wall in his unsteadiness. - </p> - <p> - The girl was profanely advising me—no, entreating me—to kill - the “drunken fool.” I didn’t blame her for her fire, and I could excuse - her language. To shift from a tickling under the chin to a mally-hackling - of toes was a little too strong for a woman’s nature even if the toes had - been cracked with money. - </p> - <p> - That was no time for fine figuring as to ways, means, or chances. Before - Captain Holstrom recovered his balance I grabbed his sacks and stuffed - them into my pockets. I started for the door. I had a sort of muddled - memory of a maxim, or proverb, or something of the kind which says that - “where a man’s treasure is there will his heart be also.” It occurred to - me that Captain Holstrom’s body would go with his heart if I made off with - that money, and I preferred to have the body chase me on two legs rather - than be lugged on my shoulders. If he would chase me back to the ferry the - situation would be simplified. Of course, mine was a crazy expedient, - considering the place where I was, but it was a crazy evening, anyway. - </p> - <p> - “I’m not stealing it,” I yelled at him as I opened the door. “I’m going to - give it to your girl, and if you run hard enough you’ll see me give it to - her.” - </p> - <p> - I had plenty of help in opening that door. There were men outside who - helped me so promptly and unanimously that it was evident they had been - lying in wait. - </p> - <p> - Two of them grabbed me by the neck as they would have clutched a bat stick - in choosing sides in a game of three old cat. They rammed me back into the - room. There were three other men who came in, and one of them was that rat - of a Beason. - </p> - <p> - They were all talking at one another, and Beason was spitting words the - fastest. But Captain Holstrom drowned out all other sounds by a bellow of - delight. He knew these men, all right. He seemed especially tickled to - behold the two men who held me. He slapped them on their backs, cuffed - their faces with drunken affection, and adjured them to hold me tighter. - </p> - <p> - “He took my money! He stole it! He insulted a lady friend of mine. He’s - been chasing me and picking a row with me for three days,” he lied, or - else the rum he had been drinking had elongated his notions of time. - </p> - <p> - “You see, I get your twenty, Mr. Keedy,” insisted Beason. “I told you - straight. I called the turn on this fly guy. He’s what I told you he was. - You just heard what the captain said.” - </p> - <p> - I was mighty busy just then with the two men who were holding me, and - Captain Holstrom was giving me some slaps which were drunkenly heavy, but - not affectionate. However, I heard what Beason said, and I saw the man - whom he called Keedy pass over a twenty-dollar gold piece. Beason grinned - at me and scuttled out of the room. The Keedy person pushed the scolding - girl out after him and slammed the door. - </p> - <p> - I did not like the looks of the Keedy person—no, not at all. I may - have instinct in such matters; I don’t know. A diver is obliged to do most - of his work in pitch darkness and by the sense of touch, and such work may - develop instinct in general. I won’t stop to discuss the question. - </p> - <p> - But that yellow face with a black mustache smacked across it like a smear - of paint, and arrows of eyebrows shooting up northeast and northwest from - a regular gouge of a wrinkle between the man’s eyes wasn’t the kind of - physog worn by the deacon who takes up the collection in a Sunday-school. - He stood with back against the door. - </p> - <p> - “Go through him, gents,” he directed. “And hand me the gun when you come - to it.” - </p> - <p> - There wasn’t any gun, but they got the two sacks of gold, and my little - stock of paper money as well. Then they gave me a shove into a corner, and - all of them stood off and looked at me. The excitement had brought old - Ingot Ike on to his feet and he joined the ring of spectators. - </p> - <p> - “You are in bad,” stated Mr. Keedy. - </p> - <p> - Silence gives consent; so I kept still. - </p> - <p> - “Who is backing you in this job? Where’s the rest of your gang? You’re in - here without a gun. Now, where’s the main party?” - </p> - <p> - “The main party,” said I, mad enough now to do a little talking, “is down - at the ferry, foot of Market Street. She is that old fool’s daughter, and - she was crying when I left her. I’m just in from the East, and when I came - out on to the street from the ferry this evening, setting foot in San - Francisco for the first time—” - </p> - <p> - “You’re a liar!” yelped Captain Holstrom. “You’ve been on my trail for - seven days, and you have just knocked me down when I was entertaining a - lady friend and wasn’t looking. You robbed me. The money was found on you. - But Rask Holstrom has got friends who won’t see him done. Here they are. - And into the dock you go, blast ye!” - </p> - <p> - “You’re in bad,” reiterated the Keedy person, narrowing the crease between - his eyes. - </p> - <p> - “If you’re a friend of Captain Holstrom, see if you can’t pound it into - his head that I’m the diver he is expecting.” - </p> - <p> - “You’re the what? Is your name Sidney?” - </p> - <p> - “That is my name.” - </p> - <p> - “Rask,” snapped Keedy at last, “were you down at the ferry turn-table as - this man says? You’ve been pretty drunk. This thing here is taking a new - tack. I’d like to believe this chap here if I can.” - </p> - <p> - “Might have been there,” owned up the captain. - </p> - <p> - “<i>Was</i> there,” stated that old fool of an Ike, who had been standing - by without a word in my behalf. Now he was ready and willing to leap with - the popular side. “I was there with him.” - </p> - <p> - “Was your daughter there with you? Did you leave her there?” - </p> - <p> - Captain Holstrom looked a little ashamed, and hesitated. - </p> - <p> - “She was there,” stated Ike. “She was following us and trying to get my - noble cap’n to go along with her, but it wasn’t right to bother my noble - cap’n when he was happy over a lucky trade.” - </p> - <p> - “The two of you must have been good and fine,” growled Mr. Keedy. “Look - here, Cap, I believe this gent is telling a lot of the truth about you. No - matter now about his high jinks with the coin. I want to believe what he - says. As your partner, Captain Holstrom, my advice to you is to hustle - out, get a cab, and get to that ferry station in quick time. If that - diving-suit is there bring it back here.” - </p> - <p> - The captain rolled out of the room, growling, but subdued. - </p> - <p> - Mr. Keedy gave me what was for him an affable smile, a hitching up nearer - to his nose of that paint-streak mustache. - </p> - <p> - “We may as well start in an acquaintance,” he said. He passed my - pocket-book back. “My name is Marcena Keedy, partner of Cap’n Holstrom. - Step up here, gents,” he commanded the two men who had squatted my - windpipe. “This is Number-one Jones; this is Number-two Jones.” They - ducked salute. They had paint-brush chin beards and cock eyes, and were - evidently twins. “First and second mates, new hired for the <i>Zizania</i>.” - He did not bother to introduce Ingot Ike. - </p> - <p> - He pushed a button on the wall. - </p> - <p> - “We’ll take something to gum the edges of sociability, gents. There’s - nothing like gents starting in sociable when they can, and staying - sociable as long as they can, providing any gent proves himself all right, - as he says he is.” - </p> - <p> - He gave me a significant and mighty sharp look, sat down, and jigged one - leg over the other, trying hard to keep up his affable smile. - </p> - <p> - We kept on being sociable for half an hour or more. - </p> - <p> - At last back came Capt. Rask Holstrom. He was tugging my duffle-bag, and - on his heels was his daughter. She had my little valise. She did not show - any especial symptoms of embarrassment at being in such a joint alone with - men. She walked straight to me and gave me the valise. What was better, - she gave me a smile. - </p> - <p> - “I misunderstood you, sir, on short acquaintance,” she said. “I hope you - will excuse me.” - </p> - <p> - She looked me straight in the eyes without coquetry, a gaze as level and - candid as that of man to man. - </p> - <p> - I gulped some reply—I don’t know what. I wasn’t half as cool as she - was. - </p> - <p> - Keedy right now put that yellow face between us. The affable smile wasn’t - there. I got a quick and sharp impression that he didn’t relish the way - the girl and I were getting chummy. She was putting out her hand to me, - for I had made a motion as though to shake on our general understanding. - He took her hand and whirled her around and pointed to a chair. - </p> - <p> - “You’d better sit down, Kama dear. We’re going to talk a little business, - and you can listen, for you are too much father’s girl to be kept out of - any deal of ours.” - </p> - <p> - She pulled her hand out of his, but she went and sat down without shaking - my hand. - </p> - <p> - “Father’s girl sees more clearly every day that he needs a guardian,” she - said, with a rather hard laugh. “Thank you, Mr. Keedy, but I do not need - your invitation to stay.” - </p> - <p> - Captain Holstrom looked very sheepish. It was plain that he had been - listening to some plain and frank opinions on his way back from the ferry - station. - </p> - <p> - He tried to act unconcerned, and spying the drink I had not touched, - started to lift it to his lips. His daughter snatched it away and sprayed - the liquor on the wall. He sat down, coughing behind his hand. I had seen - men like Capt. Rask Holstrom before—a bully and a braggart among - men, but half a fool where women were concerned—pliable in the hands - of the loose female, and mortally afraid of his own womenkind. - </p> - <p> - The men in the room were silent for some time. Keedy was looking at - Holstrom; then his eyes fell on my canvas sack at Holstrom’s feet. He - spoke to me in almost the same fawning tone he had used with the girl. It - was that almost indescribable air—that cheap assumption of gentility - that a professional gambler uses when he is prosecuting his business, and - it rather jars on an honest man. - </p> - <p> - “I’m sure it would be almighty interesting to me and to these other gents - and the lady to see an Eastern divingsuit. I reckon you’re pretty much up - to date back there.” Liar and knave himself, he wasn’t exactly sure I had - been telling the truth. He wanted to see the goods. But I did not mind - much. I knelt on the floor, and opened the sack and dug out the equipment. - This yam of mine goes back before the days of the compressed-air chamber - which the modern diver carries on his back just as an automobile carries - fuel. But I had a mighty good suit, almost a new one. There wasn’t a dent - in the helmet or a patch oh the rubber or canvas. - </p> - <p> - “We have had a long talk, this gent and I,” said Keedy, after he had - squatted like a frog and had peered at all I had to show him. “I’m - naturally a man to get to cases quick. I’m open and free with them I take - a liking to.” He went to the door and peeked into the corridor. - “Number-two Jones, you stand here and keep an eye and ear out,” he - directed. “Now, Brother Sidney, you Eastern chaps are apt to be pretty - cold-blooded, and you need first-hand evidence. I’m going to open up to - you one of the biggest prospects you ever heard of—reckoning that, - as a human being, you simply can’t resist coming into it. If you don’t see - fit to come in after it has been opened up to you—well—” He - scowled at me like a demon, snapped his fingers above his head, and turned - on old Ike. - </p> - <p> - “Get up and take the floor,” he directed. - </p> - <p> - “First-hand evidence is what counts,” went on Mr. Keedy. “Now, here’s a - man who has told his story over a lot of times on the water-front. He has - told it so many times it has grown to be a joke. They’ve given him the - nickname of ‘Ingot Ike.’ Lots of big things in this world have been buried - under a joke.” - </p> - <p> - He leaned back in his chair and twisted up the ends of his mustache. - </p> - <p> - “Court is open for first-hand evidence, gents. Ike is the first witness. - I’m going to ask him questions and make him answer snappy, for if he ever - gets to rambling on this story of his he’ll make it longer than a dime - novel. Look-a-here, Ike, what was the steamer <i>Golden Gate?</i>” - </p> - <p> - “Passengers, bullion in ingots, and general cargo ’tween here and - Panama.” - </p> - <p> - It was rather comical to see that old bean-pole straighten up and try to - imitate the snappy style of Mr. Keedy. - </p> - <p> - “What was your job aboard of her?” - </p> - <p> - “Quartermaster.” - </p> - <p> - “What happened to her?” - </p> - <p> - “Caught fire off coast of Mexico when she was bound for Panama, beached - well north of Acapulco, rolled over and over in surf, what was left of - her, and bones still there. Three ribs show at low tide if you know where - to look for ’em.” - </p> - <p> - “What was she carrying for treasure?” - </p> - <p> - “Over three million dollars’ worth of gold in ingots in her strong-room - abaft second bulkhead, between pantry and boiler-room.” - </p> - <p> - “Was the treasure ever recovered?” - </p> - <p> - “Wreck was abandoned to underwriters, and after underwriters had worked - for a long time, keeping very mysterious, they reported that they had got - the ingots all out of her. Then they came away. Everybody believed that - the underwriters had cleaned out the wreck, just as they reported they - had. But I was in that wrecking crew. I kept my eye out. It was a bluff - about getting that treasure.” The old man began to show excitement. “Their - divers couldn’t get at it. They didn’t have nerve, and they didn’t have - the right outfits in those days. The underwriters didn’t want it shown - that they hadn’t pulled up the stuff. They knew that every Tom, Dick, and - Harry would go down there, peeking and poking around that wreck, and that - some fellow might think up a way to call the turn. - </p> - <p> - “So they bribed the divers, and the divers brought up fake boxes of gold, - and the report was made that all the treasure had been taken from the <i>Golden - Gate</i> wreck. But it’s all there, gents. The underwriters haven’t been - able yet to think of a sensible way of getting at it. They don’t want to - make another splurge and attract attention till they’re sure of what - they’re doing. Them’s facts what I’m telling. I know. I haven’t done much - of anything but keep tabs. I don’t care if they do call me Ingot Ike. I - know what I’m talking about. The trouble down there has been that the old - Pacific has rolled on and rolled in and piled up sand over that treasure, - and they didn’t know how to handle the proposition in those days.” - </p> - <p> - “The idea is, Brother Sidney,” broke in Keedy, “firsthand evidence informs - us that three or four millions are cached in a place we know of. Now, - because man has failed once, years ago, when man wasn’t as bright as he is - now, is that any sign that man shall give up? Captain Holstrom and I say, - ‘No.’ We’re partners. We have been talking over this proposition for a - long time. Now, up to date, are you in any way interested?” - </p> - <p> - I was, and I said so. - </p> - <p> - “There they lie,” said Keedy, “bars of yellow gold. Boxes and boxes of - shiny gold. More than three million dollars’ worth of finest gold—and - only a little water and sand over ’em. No bars to break through, no - vaults to drill. Only sand and water—and we ought to be able to - match that sand with grit, and the water with good red blood.” - </p> - <p> - There are some men who can talk about money, and it will not start a - thrill in you. - </p> - <p> - Marcena Keedy could talk about gold in a way to make your soul hungry. He - rolled the sound in his mouth—a big, round, juicy sound—as a - boy sucks a candy marble. It made the moisture ooze in my own mouth to - hear him talk. - </p> - <p> - Mr. Keedy gave over leaning back in his chair. He sat on the edge of it, - and leaned forward. - </p> - <p> - “It’s right at this point that we go into this thing clear to the necks, - my friend. I have studied men a lot in my life. I can see about what kind - of a fellow you are. If another fellow opens up to you in honest fashion - you are <i>with</i> him—and if you can’t stay with him you are not - going off and squeal and hurt him. There’s nothing half-way between - Holstrom, here, and myself. We’re partners. We’re in together, whole hog. - I’ll spread the cards for you just as they are spread for the captain and - myself. He and I have been having a run of good luck to date in our - partnership. We’ll have some more firsthand evidence. Rask, how was it you - got the inside clinch in the <i>Zizania</i> matter?” - </p> - <p> - “For the benefit of a man from the East, where they ain’t as shrewd as the - Yankees think they be,” stated Captain Holstrom in his husky voice, “I - will say that we’ve got a devilish good close combine on the waterfront—we - fellows have been on the job for a long time. When the Government auctions - off anything we get together and fix the top price at which any bid shall - go, and then we cut the cards to settle who shall pick the plum at that - price. It means that the lucky man will pick a bargain, don’t forget that. - Price can’t be budged above that bid—and it’s a blamed measly - price.” He smacked his lips. “So that is how I have got hold of the old - __Zizania__, Government lighthouse-tender and buoy steamer, side-wheeler, - one hundred and seventy feet long, new derricks, boilers in fair shape, - and engine fresh overhauled. I’ve cut the cards for eleven years, and this - has been my first look-in. But it’s worth waiting for. I could junk her - and make four times what I pay for her.” - </p> - <p> - “What <i>we</i> pay for her,” corrected Mr. Keedy. “Remember that I’m your - partner. Now I’ll take the stand myself. Holstrom here sold his tugboat - the minute he struck luck on the <i>Zizania</i>. He pulled what money he - had in the bank. He lacked half the price, at that. He was going to borrow - on a bill of sale. ‘No,’ says I to him. ‘Bring along your cash to the - place where I’m dealing faro. I’ll go in partner with you and double your - pot.’ Holstrom knew that when I talked that way with him I was square. - Some men would have double-crossed him and pulled the pickings for the - bank. I ain’t that kind,” declared Mr. Keedy, pulling himself up - virtuously and giving the girl a side-glance. “I know who my friends are, - and who I’d like to help. And I can deal faro! Don’t worry about that! - Captain Holstrom walked out with his pot doubled. The money goes down on - the <i>Zizania</i> to-morrow morning, making up the balance after the - forfeit money was paid. That’s the way Holstrom and I do business after we - have come to an agreement.” He gave the girl a look which he intended to - be melting. “I said I’d do it, and I did it.” - </p> - <p> - “I’m ashamed of my father,” she said, crisply. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t much blame you, Kama,” stammered Captain Holstrom, missing the - point of her rebuke. “For me to go and do what I done after scooping in - that money was a fool performance, and I ask the pardon of all concerned. - But I reckon my head was turned by having all that good luck come in a - bunch. I just went into the air, that’s what I done. But I’m back on earth - to stay now.” - </p> - <p> - “Let us hope so, partner,” chided Kir. Keedy. “That crazy Beason and our - new friend here made such a racket chasing you through the Coast that I - heard of it, and started out on the chase myself. It has turned out lucky, - but that’s no credit to you.” - </p> - <p> - The girl stood up. “I have listened, and now I understand. If you want to - keep my respect, father, you’ll hand back the part of that money which is - stolen, and borrow enough to make your payment.” - </p> - <p> - “Hold on, Miss Kama!” cried Keedy. “That money wasn’t stolen. A man who - tackles a faro-bank isn’t stealing if he wins.” - </p> - <p> - “I heard what you said a few minutes ago, Mr. Keedy.” - </p> - <p> - “And I said it to show I can be a friend to those I like. I’ve known you a - long time, and now when I’ve had a chance to show you that I’m a friend - you can’t afford to chuck me.” - </p> - <p> - He jumped up and went near to her. - </p> - <p> - “No more faro for me—no cards any more,” he said, dusting his hands - before her. “I know you haven’t liked to have me do it.” - </p> - <p> - “I have never made any remarks to you about your affairs, Mr. Keedy. It’s - only when my father gets mixed into them that I protest.” - </p> - <p> - “I reckon that after all the years I’ve dealt crooked for the sake of the - bank I’ve got the right to deal crooked for once in my life to help my - friends,” muttered Keedy. “But I’m all done with faro, I tell you, Kama. - We’re all going to be rich. I want you to remember that I’ve done my full - share in this thing.” - </p> - <p> - Captain Holstrom banged the sacks of coin upon the table. - </p> - <p> - “You bet you have, Marcena. And you’re my partner. I stand by you. I never - saw a girl yet who didn’t have foolish notions. But they grow out of - them.” He winked at Keedy. “This money goes down on the old <i>Zizania</i> - to-morrow morning. She’s ours from snout to tail—from keelson to - pennant block. And she’s going to make our everlasting fortunes. You shall - see, Kama, my girl!” - </p> - <p> - For a moment she stood there, her eyes narrowed, her cheeks flaming up, as - fine a picture of protesting and indignant maidenhood as I ever laid eyes - on. Then she compressed her lips and choked back an outburst. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I <i>shall</i> see,” she said at last. “For I shall go on board the - <i>Zizania</i>, and stay there and watch you, father, and try to keep you - out of State’s prison for the sake of my poor dead mother.” - </p> - <p> - “It has been all right for you to live with me aboard the tug,” growled - Captain Holstrom, blinking sourly at her. “But this is a different - proposition. This is going to be a man’s game.” - </p> - <p> - “With one woman along,” she insisted. - </p> - <p> - “You have got to stay here in the city,” he declared. - </p> - <p> - “If you leave me here alone, deserting me for men who are leading you into - dangers and trouble, you’ll find me dancing in one of the worst holes on - this street when you come back. I swear it!” she said. - </p> - <p> - She did not raise her voice. There was no elocution, and hysterics were - absent. But there are women who can say a thing and make you believe it. - Captain Holstrom cracked his knuckles and gasped, and said nothing. Keedy - ran his thin tongue along the line of his sooty mustache. - </p> - <p> - “As a partner, I’m in favor of keeping a good girl near her father,” said - he. - </p> - <p> - “You are not a partner in my family affairs, Mr. Keedy!” cried the girl, - hotly. - </p> - <p> - Keedy, much embarrassed, and willing to hide his feelings, turned to me. - </p> - <p> - “We seem to be drifting off the main subject, Brother Sidney.” I wanted to - yank him up for calling me by that title—resentment surged in me as - hotly as it did in the girl. There are some men who seem to make your soul - feel sticky when they try to be intimate. - </p> - <p> - I told him I’d like a night to think the matter over. - </p> - <p> - “All right,” said Keedy, dryly; “I’ll take you with me to a place where - you can do some steady thinking and won’t be bothered. Stuff your things - back into your bag.” - </p> - <p> - As I plodded along the narrow street with him, my sack propped on my - shoulder, Captain Holstrom and his daughter passed me in a cab. - </p> - <p> - Mr. Keedy’s voice and manner were well padded with velvet that night, but - he couldn’t fool me. He caged me—that’s what he did. I remember that - I slept in a closet of a room, and, Mr. Keedy was on a cot in the room - which opened into the hall. I didn’t mind any of his precautions. I had - made up my mind to go along. I was dog-tired and slept all night. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0029" id="link2H_4_0029"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - XXVIII—SORTING THE CHECKER-BOARD CREW - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">M</span>R. KEEDY evidently - desired to impress on me that his hankering to make sure of my company - during the night was inspired by pure and sudden friendship. - </p> - <p> - When he came to awaken me his mustache was lifted so high in an amiable - smile that the twin sooty wings seemed to stick out of his nostrils. He - hoped I was getting to like the West and the folks there. I returned that - up to date I had not been homesick—a conservative statement, and - true; I had had no time to be homesick. - </p> - <p> - He paid for my breakfast; further evidence of friendship. Then he called a - cab and took me and my belongings down to the berth of the <i>Zizania</i>. - The old steamer was docked in a place which, so he told me, was the China - Basin, and we wormed our way through alleys and junk-piles and got aboard. - </p> - <p> - We hadn’t hurried that morning, and the time was well into the middle of - the forenoon. - </p> - <p> - Captain Holstrom was stubbing to and fro on the main deck. He wore a fine - air of proprietorship, and welcomed us with a flourish of his hand. He - patted his breast, and the crackle of paper sounded. - </p> - <p> - “Money paid,” he reported. “Them’s the dockyments. Come up into the - wheel-house. There’s the place to talk the rest of our business.” - </p> - <p> - Marcena Keedy did most of the talking that forenoon. He loved to lollop - the words “three million dollars’ worth of gold ingots” in his mouth. He - had wormed out of me at breakfast-time admissions enough so that he knew I - was favorably disposed. He proposed to try to take advantage of me and I - saw his game and resolved to do some bluffing on my own part. He put a lot - of verbal plush around his propositions, but I could feel the hard nub - just the same. - </p> - <p> - After all that conversational fluff he wanted me to sign a contract to - take day’s wages for the job—double pay for the days when I - recovered any gold. - </p> - <p> - I turned that wages suggestion down, flat and final. You would have - thought I had money plastered all over me. - </p> - <p> - “It has got to be on shares,” I said. - </p> - <p> - “You doggone bean-eater, have you got the nerve to talk shares on an - investment of a diving-suit against our steamer and our information about - the <i>Golden Gate?</i>” stuttered Keedy. - </p> - <p> - “That isn’t the way the thing shakes down, Mr. Keedy. You have made it - plain to me that you’re gambling in this—it isn’t a straight deal.” - </p> - <p> - He swore at me, but I didn’t mean the thing the way he cook it. - </p> - <p> - “If you were going down there,” I said, “with a big expedition, and - proposed to build coffer-dams, and all that, and go at it scientific - fashion, I would hire as a regular diver. I couldn’t demand anything else. - But I’m not merely investing a diving-suit, as it stands. I’m playing a - lone hand in the diving part of the scheme; I’m investing all my - experience, all my skill; I’m investing life itself, for, as near as I can - find out from what you say, it will be up to me to know how to get that - gold, and then go get it. I want one-third of the velvet after all bills - are paid, and I want a contract drawn before I start.” - </p> - <p> - Perhaps I wouldn’t have jabbed the thing so hard at Holstrom, but I did - not propose to be the monkey for Keedy. I looked innocent and suggested - that they’d better talk with another diver. Keedy flapped like a speared - fish for half an hour—and then he came over. Captain Holstrom walked - up and down with his hands behind his back during all the talk. I judged - from his general air that he was viewing the whole thing as more or less - of a dream, and did not want to get too wide awake about it from fear of - losing courage and interest. - </p> - <p> - “There’s one thing about it—you’ll work harder if you have a lay,” - said Keedy. - </p> - <p> - That’s usually the way with the grafter or loafer—he’s afraid the - other fellow won’t work hard enough. - </p> - <p> - Frankly, I did not have any very brilliant hopes in regard to that - expedition, for if old Ingot Ike had told the truth about the failure of - the underwriters, I figured that the diving proposition must be a tough - one. Keedy was hot about it, for he did not know enough about such work to - judge chances; as for Captain Holstrom, ever since he had won this <i>Zizania</i> - elephant he was in a state of mind which made him ready for any project, - even to putting wings on her and starting for the moon. - </p> - <p> - I didn’t pay much attention to the outfitting, except to make a list of - such equipment in the way of lines, hose, air-pumps, and such matters as I - needed for my part of the work. Keedy and Holstrom turned around and - borrowed money on the security of the steamer, this debt to stand against - our partnership. Keedy seemed so sure of that gold that he did not stop to - ask me how I was fixed to stand my share in case of utter failure. - Therefore, with plenty of funds to work with, we were ready for sea in - short order, and to sea we went, swashing out past Point Lobos, the - sea-lions hooting at us as we passed their rocks, and started down the - coast. - </p> - <p> - I leaned over the rail and watched the shore melt in the hazy distance, - and did not blame the sea-lions for their derogatory remarks. I did not - know much about steamers, but I realized that the <i>Zizania</i>, - condemned Government tub, wasn’t anything to brag about. She was a real - old ocean-walloper, a broad-beamed duck of a thing, thrashing her warped - paddles, her rusty walking-beam groaning, her patched boilers wheezing—a - weather-worn, gray, and grunting ocean tramp. - </p> - <p> - Like all craft of the buoy-boat model, she had much deck room forward of - the bridge, and here were nested, as dories are nested on a Gloucester - trawler, four forty-foot lighters. Plenty of anchors accompanied these - scows—huge, rusty second-hand anchors which Captain Holstrom had - bought from junkmen. The <i>Zizania</i> was naturally slow, and this load - forward now made a snail of her. Hawsers and chains encumbered her deck - space everywhere—age-blackened ropes, and iron from which rust - scales were dropping. Captain Holstrom had ransacked the wharfs for - hand-me-downs. Even the men whom he had shipped looked as though he had - secured them at a rummage sale. - </p> - <p> - “It’s a checker-board crew,” the captain had informed me as they straggled - on board. “Half black men, and half white. That’s the only way to sort men - when you’re bound on a long cruise. Keep the blacks mad with the whites, - and vitchy vici, and you’ve always got half the crew on your side in case - of trouble. There can’t any general mutinies start when you’ve got a - checker-board crew. Number-one Jones has the white men’s watch; Number-two - Jones has the black watch; and as soon as we get this stuff stored and the - rest moused on deck I’ll have Number-one sick his bunch on to - Number-two’s, and let ’em fight long enough to get good and mad. - Then they’ll sort of neutralize each other for the rest of the cruise.” - </p> - <p> - That system of gentle diplomacy was new to me, and I loafed around and - kept an eye out, for I have always had a hearty relish for an honest - scrap. Furthermore, in explaining to me later, the captain had stated that - I was expected to jump in with himself and the mates and break up the - fight with clubs when it had progressed far enough. - </p> - <p> - “You see, we want to leave both sides mad and neither side licked,” said - Captain Holstrom. “It will be like cooking in a hot oven. The thing - mustn’t get scorched on. I know how to handle it. Jump in when I say the - word.” - </p> - <p> - He had given me these instructions leaning over the sill of the - pilot-house window soon after we had got away from the dock. - </p> - <p> - “Not that the doodah will start for some time yet,” he added. “But I’m a - great hand to have things all ready and understood. You can be looking up - your club between now and to-morrow.” - </p> - <p> - I glanced into the wheel-house as I walked on. Marcena Keedy lounged in - solitary state on the transom seat at the rear, puffing away at a cigar. - </p> - <p> - “You’re always welcome in here,” he called. But I had no appetite for the - companionship of Mr. Keedy. - </p> - <p> - It occurred to me, with just a bit of relish in the thought, that Miss - Kama Holstrom probably was of similar mind in regard to Mr. Keedy. She had - taken a seat in the wheel-house when she had come on board that day. Now - she was in her state-room, which was the cabin on the upper deck near the - bridge, planned as the captain’s apartment. Either she had pre-empted it - or Captain Holstrom had assigned her to it. I had seen that the Joneses—Number-one - and Number-two—were in berths near my quarters below, and it was - plain that partners Holstrom and Keedy had quartered themselves in the - mates’ room on the upper deck. - </p> - <p> - Miss Holstrom’s door was on the hook, and I caught a glimpse of her more - by accident than by design. She nodded without speaking, and I raised my - cap and went below to the main deck. - </p> - <p> - I got there in season to see the lighting of a fuse which exploded Captain - Holstrom’s “checker-board” plans ahead of scheduled time. - </p> - <p> - The first man I met on the deck was Ingot Ike. He was gnawing at a hunk of - gingerbread with his snags of teeth, and was grinning amiably. - </p> - <p> - “This is going to be a comfortable trip for me,” he confided. “I find I - know the cook. It’s a lucky thing if you stand in well with the cook. Him - and me was shipmates together on a Vancouver packet. He’s the Snohomish - Glutton.” He opened his eyes and looked at me as though he expected that I - would show astonishment. “I said—he’s the Snohomish Glutton,” he - repeated, more loudly. - </p> - <p> - But my face remained blank. - </p> - <p> - “You don’t mean to tell me that you never heard of the Snohomish Glutton!” - </p> - <p> - I shook my head. - </p> - <p> - “You nev—You don’t—You ain’t ever—” Ike took another - drag at the gingerbread, and swallowed hard. “Why, the Snohomish Glutton - is known—the Snohomish Glutton, he has eat at one setting—Oh, - shucks, if you ain’t ever heard, what’s the use!” He started on, but - whirled and came back and shook the hunk of gingerbread under my nose. “I - suppose if it had been writ and printed in a book you Eastern perfessers - would know all about it. Thank God, in the West we know a lot of things - that ain’t printed in a book!” Then he stumped away. - </p> - <p> - Well, I concluded I would stroll along to the galley and take a look at - the cook, and be able thereafter to say that at least I had seen this - notable of the Pacific. - </p> - <p> - There was a spacious galley on the old <i>Zizania</i>. I looked in through - an open window which commanded the port alley. A fat man was chopping - kindlings. He was a thing of rolls and folds of fat—a gob of a man. - There were narrow slits near his nose marking his eyes, but his eyes - seemed to be shut by fat. A little, round, pursed-up mouth was in the - middle of his face, and from this came wheezy grunts as he chopped. - </p> - <p> - While I was watching him, an object bounded into the galley door and - leapfrogged him, darting past me through the window. Before I could turn - my head the thing, whatever it was, had disappeared around the corner of - the alley. - </p> - <p> - The cook straightened up, and by an effort opened his eyes enough to stare - at me. I expected a deep, gruff voice, But he had a real tin-whistle pipe. - </p> - <p> - “What did you throw at me?” - </p> - <p> - “I didn’t throw anything. Something rushed through the galley—I - didn’t see what.” - </p> - <p> - “Things don’t hit a man unless they are thrown,” he insisted. “I may look - funny, but I ain’t funny. I don’t relish having things thrown at me.” - </p> - <p> - He gave up trying to hold his eyes open, and went on chopping. - </p> - <p> - I was getting my breath ready to protest when the thing came through once - more. It was a monkey. But it missed the cook’s back, for the broad - shoulders heaved as the ax came up. The monkey slipped, slid across the - chopping-block, and down came the ax. The animal squealed horribly, flung - itself past me through the open window, and fled. It went like a shot, but - I got the fleeting impression that its tail was gone. - </p> - <p> - “What did you do then?” asked the cook, squinting at me suspiciously. - </p> - <p> - “I tell you I haven’t done anything at all. That was a monkey. He came - from somewhere. He ran through here. I think you have cut off his tail.” - He peered about. “There ain’t no tail here,” he whined. “There couldn’t - have been any monkey here. This ain’t any place for a monkey to be. There - may be monkey business here—and you’re getting it up. You go away - from here!” - </p> - <p> - I’m afraid the Snohomish Glutton and I would have had trouble then and - there, but just then a man came rushing into the door of the galley. He - had the monkey under his arm, upside down, and he was pointing quivering - finger at a bleeding stump of a tail. I couldn’t understand what he was - bawling. I found out afterward that he was a Russian Finn and could - command only a few English words even when he was perfectly calm. He was - not calm now. I never heard a man rave so. The monkey joined him with - hideous screams. - </p> - <p> - The cook listened for a time, puckering his fat forehead. When he found - that the man was talking a foreign language he upraised his ax and swished - it around in circles near the Finn’s head. A cook in his galley is lord - supreme in his domain, and the sailor probably knew as much. The ax was - menacing; it was coming very close, and the Finn already had one exhibit - of that cook’s ferocity under his arm. He allowed himself to be backed - out, and the cook slammed and barred the door. - </p> - <p> - “What did he say?” he asked me, in his piping tones. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t know what he said.” - </p> - <p> - “I reckoned it was some kind of Dago swearing, and I don’t allow a man to - swear at me. Most likely it was swearing.” - </p> - <p> - “You cut off that monkey’s tail,” I insisted. “I thought so when he - squealed. Now I’m sure of it.” - </p> - <p> - He went to peering around again, whining to himself like a fat porcupine - who is being badgered. - </p> - <p> - “There ain’t no tail here. I didn’t cut off his tail. I didn’t see him so - that I could cut off his tail.” He started toward the window with a look - as if he proposed to resent my suggestion that he had been cutting off - monkeys’ tails. I passed on. I figured that I might as well try to argue - with a Sussex shote as with that shapeless mass of fat. I would have saved - a nasty bit of trouble for myself, perhaps, if I had remained and argued. - And my trouble later that day—and that monkey with the missing tail—was - the seed from which—But that’s getting ahead of the story. - </p> - <p> - ===There were really three messes aboard the <i>Zizania</i>. There was the - captain’s mess aft, with special dishes, which was entirely distinct from - the crew’s food. On the port side was set out the food for the black half - of the checker-board crew, and on the starboard side the white half - received their provender. - </p> - <p> - We were at dinner in the captain’s mess. It was our first meal at sea—our - first meeting at table. - </p> - <p> - When Miss Kama came in we were just sitting down. The captain was with us, - having left one of the Joneses at the wheel. Keedy lifted his paint-streak - mustache against his nose in a smile, and pulled out a chair beside his - own. - </p> - <p> - “Sit here, my dear,” he said to the girl. - </p> - <p> - She walked past the chair, came around to my side of the table, and sat - down. She did not toss her chin or sniff, as some girls would have done, - to show dislike of Keedy. She was a cool proposition, that girl was. - </p> - <p> - That left the chair beside Keedy the only vacant one at the table. A plump - little man had been standing off at one side, waiting for the last choice - of seats. He looked rather bashful, and his round face was shining with - soap, and his hair was plastered down at the sides and combed up in front - in a fancy cowlick. You could see that he realized that he did not exactly - belong at that table. Therefore he had scrubbed himself up for the - occasion. - </p> - <p> - Captain Rask Holstrom did not trouble himself with any of the finer graces - of society. He gruffly introduced the little man as Romeo Shank, chief - engineer, and told Shank to slide into the chair beside Keedy. “We ain’t - drawing any fine lines between ship’s officers on this trip,” stated the - captain, bluntly, for the benefit of all concerned. “Get to table while - the grub is hot, and get it into you—that’s the motto. Business - before style is the idea aboard this boat.” - </p> - <p> - He began to shovel food industriously with his knife. - </p> - <p> - Keedy hitched away from his table-mate a few inches, and looked across at - me, and deepened the wrinkle between his eyes. But he could not spoil my - appetite. Something else which happened the next moment pretty nigh did - it, though. - </p> - <p> - A black man leaped into the saloon through the forward door by which the - waiter came and went. Two other black men were at his back. They stopped - just inside the door and dragged off their knitted caps. They had the - appearance of being a delegation, and an excited delegation at that. It - was plain to be seen that they had come rushing aft without stopping to - figure on consequences. The leader carried something in front of him, and - it was looped over the blade of a wicked-looking-knife. He held the object - at arm’s length toward Captain Holstrom, pointed at it with the vibrating - finger of his left hand, and yelped shrilly like a dog. He was too excited - and too furious to put his complaint into words. - </p> - <p> - “What have ye got there—a snake?” yelped the captain, gulping down a - mouthful, and wrinkling his nose like one who had suddenly come upon - something disgusting. - </p> - <p> - “We find him in our kittle—we find him dere. Yassuh! We eat ’most - to de bottom, and den we find him,” raved the negro. - </p> - <p> - Captain Holstrom snapped up from the table and strode over and squinted at - the object which dangled from the knife blade. - </p> - <p> - “Dey cook for us in our kittle a monkey tail—dem white men cook dat - for us, and laugh,” squealed the negro. - </p> - <p> - “And you think that some of those cheap white jokers put it in, eh?” - </p> - <p> - “Dey laugh all de time since when we pull him out. Yassuh, it’s a lot of - fun for dem men.” - </p> - <p> - Captain Holstrom rubbed his nose thoughtfully, and stared down on the - thing which had savored the black men’s dinner. - </p> - <p> - A happy thought seemed to strike him. He turned his head and winked at me. - </p> - <p> - “Take that thing out and whack it across the face of the white man you - find laughing the hardest,” he commanded. “When he gets up to hit you - pitch in.” He came lurching back to the table. “I didn’t intend to have - the row till to-morrow,” he informed us, in an undertone. “But this is too - good a chance to miss. We’ll get that checker-board crew on a war basis - where they’ll stay put.” - </p> - <p> - The black men were lingering at the door, trying to get the captain’s - meaning through their wool. - </p> - <p> - “Excuse me, Captain Holstrom,” I said, “but I think I know how this thing - happened—and I feel it’s too bad to have innocent men beaten up.” I - started to tell what I had seen, but he swore and broke in on me. - </p> - <p> - “Don’t butt into something that’s none of your business!” he snapped. He - roared at the men: “Go do what I told you to do. Go punch the jokes out of - that white gang or you’ll have no peace the rest of the voyage. Get out of - here before I kick you out!” - </p> - <p> - It sounded like a very pretty row, judging it from where we were sitting - in the saloon. It began in a very few minutes. - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Number-two Jones,” directed the captain, “go out there and oversee, - and let me know when it’s time to break the clinch.” He loaded up his - plate once more and kept on eating. - </p> - <p> - In about five minutes the mate returned. “I reckon it’s about time to - knock ’em apart, Captain Holstrom,” he advised, shoving his head in - at the door. “No great harm done, but they’re chewing each other bad, and - that means expense for plaster and salve.” - </p> - <p> - If I hadn’t already lost my appetite for dinner, that grisly statement - from Mr. Number-two Jones would have fixed me. I pushed back from the - table. - </p> - <p> - “Come along, Sidney,” commanded the captain, kicking his chair out from - under him. “Come settle your dinner. I’ll find a club for you.” - </p> - <p> - “I’ll obey the orders you gave me first, sir,” I called after him; “I - won’t butt into something that’s none of my business.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you mean to say—” He had stopped and whirled on me. - </p> - <p> - I was sore because he had snapped me up so short before them all. I - thought my explanation should have been considered. - </p> - <p> - “I mean to say that this fight was needless. You started it; now you can - stop it.” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Keedy had been lighting a cigar, and it was plain that he did not - intend to venture out into the mêlée. - </p> - <p> - “Look here—I tell you to come along,” yelled the captain. “It’s your - duty.” - </p> - <p> - “Not on your life. I’m no ship’s officer! I’m along as a diver, not as a - prize-fighter.” - </p> - <p> - Captain Holstrom looked ugly enough just then to tackle me as a preface to - his job forward, but after cursing a moment he followed the mate. The riot - was increasing, and it was plain that he was needed in the field. - </p> - <p> - Keedy leaned back and scowled at me through his cigar smoke. - </p> - <p> - “I didn’t know I had picked a quitter,” he sneered. “We’re tackling a job - that needs sand. You ain’t a tin horn, are you?” - </p> - <p> - I didn’t answer and the back of my neck began to itch; I suppose if I had - had hair there like a dog’s, the hair would have bristled. That itching in - the neck when you’re mad is a survival of the old days when men had lots - of hair on ’em. - </p> - <p> - I started to walk out of the saloon. Miss Kama was sitting there, looking - at us, and her presence rather complicated matters for a man who was - getting madder all the time, as I was. The other officers had chased along - on the trail of Captain Holstrom. - </p> - <p> - “A second-hand diving-suit doesn’t stack up very high against what we’re - putting into this thing—Captain Holstrom and myself,” he insisted. - “There was something going in from your side in addition to the - divingsuit, as I understand it. But a coward can’t invest grit.” - </p> - <p> - I stopped at the door and walked back toward him. - </p> - <p> - “A what?” I inquired. - </p> - <p> - “I said ‘a coward.’” - </p> - <p> - I slapped him—not hard. - </p> - <p> - “Now come up on deck with me, Mr. Keedy. You’ve got to come after that. - There’s a lady here.” - </p> - <p> - “I’m going, gentlemen,” said the girl. “Don’t mind me.” She looked at - Keedy and set her lips. - </p> - <p> - But Keedy jumped up and pulled a gun instead of putting up his fists. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t fight that way, Mr. Keedy,” I told him. “I have no gun. You’d - better put yours up. You can’t afford to kill me—not yet!” - </p> - <p> - “No—and that’s the devil of it,” he blurted, after waiting a moment. - “You have taken advantage of—of—” - </p> - <p> - “Of your hankering to get money into your paws,” I snapped back at him. - “If you won’t come up and fight man fashion, I can’t make you, but if you - ever call me a coward again on this trip I’ll put in a little evidence to - the contrary with these.” I showed him my fists. - </p> - <p> - He rammed his revolver into his hip pocket and stamped out of the saloon. - </p> - <p> - I found the girl looking at me, wrinkling her forehead. - </p> - <p> - “I beg your pardon, Miss Holstrom,” I apologized. “But an itching to - strike that man has been in my fingers for some time.” - </p> - <p> - “You ought to have waited until you had an excuse to strike harder than - that, Mr. Sidney. I have known Marcena Keedy for a long time. A man like - you with a big job ahead ought to be able to keep his eyes to the front - all the time. Now you will have to keep looking behind you. I say—I - have known Mr. Keedy for a long time.” - </p> - <p> - She went out. - </p> - <p> - I followed a few minutes afterward, and I went with my head down, and I - was pretty thoughtful. Captain Holstrom and I bumped together in the - doorway. He shoved past me and threw a club into a corner. - </p> - <p> - “I hope you can dive better’n you can fight,” he snorted. - </p> - <p> - Then he bawled to the waiter and demanded his piece of pie. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0030" id="link2H_4_0030"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - XXIX—THE TELLTALE RIBS - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HERE was nothing - especially interesting about that prolonged grunt of the old <i>Zizania</i> - down the California coast. She rolled and thrashed, and the brisk trades - spattered spray over her bows, and she certainly took her own time in - moving along. - </p> - <p> - We all settled down to endure the trip as best we could, but it was a - rather surly party. Forward, the blacks and whites nursed their scars and - their grudge; aft, Keedy and I scowled at each other so much that nobody - could be happy around where we were. Miss Kama walked the deck alone, or - read, or embroidered in her state-room; once in a while I got a glimpse of - her through the door while she was at work. She continued to sit beside me - at table, but she was very cool and distant. I don’t know as I tried to - have her anything else. I would have liked to lean over the rail and talk - with her, though I never presumed to speak to her on deck. Take a fellow - when he is young, penned aboard a slow packet, a pretty girl near him all - the time, and you bet he cannot confine all his thought to the scenery and - his job. - </p> - <p> - She truly was a pretty girl! I can see her now as she strode to and fro on - the upper deck, her hands shoved deep in the pockets of her white sweater, - and drawing it forward so that it set off her plumpness. There was a sort - of indescribable tousle to her hair, if I may put it that way. I don’t - know what the color was—there’s no name for those shades of copper - and brown and all that. - </p> - <p> - I know I liked mighty well to see the sun shine through that hair. - </p> - <p> - I loafed below and forward considerably. I found a lot to interest me, - particularly a job that the Russian Finn was on in his spare time. He was - making a new tail for his monkey. He explained to me half tearfully that - the monkey would never be safe or happy otherwise. I had pretty hard work - to understand the man’s broken lingo, but I gathered that this especial - kind of monkey needed to spend a portion of his time hanging head downward - from his tail in order to be well and contented. Once or twice since the - tail had been amputated the monkey had run up the foremast or the derrick, - and had confidently tried to throw an imaginary tail over a rope, and had - tumbled to the deck, where he had squatted and moaned and examined the - stump with confused and pitiful attempt to understand the phenomenon. I - could sympathize with the Finn’s fears when he said that “some day he fall - over the board or break him damn neck.” The cook’s random blow had left - some inches of the stump, and to this with marline and glue the Finn - deftly fastened by an “end-seizing” a wire covered with furred skin. I - wondered where he secured this skin. He owned up to me. He had captured - and killed one of the cook’s pet cats, and the cook had never opened his - eyes wide enough to detect the crime, or to behold where the skin of the - defunct was performing vicarious atonement. - </p> - <p> - This catskin-covered wire was hooked at the end. Edison, I reckon, never - watched the testing of an invention with greater raptness than the Finn - displayed as the monkey, after a thorough inspection of the new appendage, - clambered aloft to where a rope swayed invitingly. I confess that I shared - in that interest. It proved a surprising success. The monkey swung from - the hook, chattered, and grinned, and came down and sat for long minutes - scrutinizing the thing, running busy little fingers along the furred wire. - </p> - <p> - “I may need an inventor with brains when I get at my job down below here,” - I told the Finn. “I will remember what you have done to your monkey.” - </p> - <p> - But when the time did come, it was the monkey instead of the master who - served. - </p> - <p> - As day followed day, and we finally raised the loom of the southern - California mountains in the blue distance on our port, Ingot Ike came out - of the lethargy in which limitless supplies of soft gingerbread seemed to - involve him. He talked to me with the brown crumbs sticking in the comers - of his mouth, and his spirits rose higher each day. He was like a - thermometer which was being brought nearer and nearer to heat. His talk - became more eager, his demeanor more alert, joy more intense. - </p> - <p> - “After all I’ve talked about it, and told ’em about it, and argued, - it’s coming true at last,” he kept repeating to me. He had fastened - himself to me with especial insistence during the voyage. “You’re the one - who is going to get it, who is going off this boat right down to where it - is, where you can lay your hands right on it, sir. Won’t it be a grand - feeling when you lay your hands on the first box?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” I admitted, “it will—when I lay my hands on it.” - </p> - <p> - I did not say that with any great enthusiasm. If Ingot Ike had not been so - full of gingerbread and glee he would have seen that I was pretty much - down. That San Francisco cocktail had got well worked out of me. I’d had - plenty of time to think the whole thing over during that wallow down the - coast. A man could be hopeful, in on shore, with Mr. Keedy rolling the - word “gold” over his tongue like a luscious morsel. I had been hopeful—and - desperate. But after days at sea in that rickety old tub, with her rotten - equipment, her bargain-sale fittings, her makeshift crew, with her whole - grouchy, suspicious, and reckless atmosphere, I decided that I was a fool - and would have been better off if I had gone out and hunted for a - legitimate job. I had ahead of me the fact, according to old Ike, that - other good men had tried and failed. I had behind me just then the sure - feeling that Mr. Keedy proposed to do me up as soon as I made good, - provided I did so by some lucky chance. - </p> - <p> - The last stage of the voyage south was made with old Ike posted in the - crow’s-nest, his beak thrust out, and his mat of hair fluttering in the - wind. He was so excited that he forgot to wallop gingerbread between his - toothless jaws. - </p> - <p> - Number-two Jones, who wasn’t a bad sort, gave me some information about - the coast which was in sight of us since we had crossed the mouth of the - Gulf of California. He had sailed those waters before. He had a somewhat - misty remembrance of where the steamer <i>Golden Gate</i> had gone ashore, - but he had never been in the vicinity of the spot, for the sand-bars - obliged craft to keep well offshore. - </p> - <p> - According to his recollection, the wreck had occurred along the Guerrero - coast, somewhere between Orilla and Acapulco. The doomed steamer, after - she had caught fire, was headed for the harbor of Acapulco, almost the - only haven on the coast, but an outlying sand-bar tripped her many miles - north of her destination and she went to her grave. Mr. Jones confessed - that he did not know just where; he would be obliged to hunt fifty miles - of coast for her if it were up to him. - </p> - <p> - But Ingot Ike had the memory of a monomaniac on the subject of the <i>Golden - Gate</i>. He peered under his palm at the hazy sky-line; he threw back his - head and snuffed into the east like a dog treeing game. - </p> - <p> - Captain Holstrom started the lead going as soon as Ike had asked to have - the <i>Zizania</i> hug the coast more closely. He knew the reputation of - those hummocks and submarine plateaus of sand, and the howl of the - leadsman rather astonished me when he reported, for on the Atlantic coast, - to which I had been accustomed, we would be in deep water with a - coast-line so far away in the hazy blue of the east. At a distance which I - judged to be at least two miles offshore we were getting a report of only - fifteen or twenty fathoms. - </p> - <p> - At last Ike began to swish his thin arm. “Ye’d better down killick, - Captain!” he screamed from the crow’s-nest. “We’re laying off of her. This - is the place.” He scrambled down and ran to the wheel-house. “If you put - her in closer than this she’ll roll her blamed old smokestack out.” - </p> - <p> - Captain Holstrom accepted that advice promptly, though the shore-line was - at least a mile away. - </p> - <p> - He yelled shrilly, and splash! went the port anchor. When she had swung - wide he sent down the starboard mud-hook, and she headed the rolling - Pacific, riding easily to the heave of the giant sweepers. - </p> - <p> - A little thrill tingled in me as she came to a halt. We were on the ground - at last. - </p> - <p> - It was now up to me! - </p> - <p> - There were plenty of other men on that boat, but there was only one man - who could reach out and put his hand on that treasure, and that was - myself. The thought did not help to cheer my despondency. - </p> - <p> - Captain Holstrom was immediately busy with a huge telescope which he - lifted from its rack and leveled across the sill of the wheel-house - window. Old Ike was excitedly counseling him, jabbing a digit toward the - shore. - </p> - <p> - “Follow down from that second nick in that hossback mount’in,” the guide - suggested. “Them is my bearings. You ought to see them ribs fairly plain - against the white where that surf is breaking inshore.” - </p> - <p> - There was silence after that while the captain squinted through the glass, - twisting a section now and then to sharpen the focus. His daughter was in - the wheel-house at his side, her face tense. She had never intimated to - me, of course, what her ideas were in regard to this treasure quest. She - may have held the whole project in the same contempt in which she seemed - to hold Keedy, its chief instigator, or old Ike, its prophet. But I stole - a look at her, and decided that she was interested now. - </p> - <p> - Well, anything with intellect above that of a steer would have had to be - interested at that moment. - </p> - <p> - We were hoping that yonder under those rollers lay three or four million - dollars’ worth of gold—gold enough to buy everything that man or - woman could desire. - </p> - <p> - Even the blockheads of the checker-board crew, who could hope for no more - than their wages from the quest, were staring over the rail from the main - deck forward, their mouths open. Marcena Keedy was eating a cigar instead - of smoking it. - </p> - <p> - “Them ribs ought to be there, Captain,” insisted the old man, wistfully. - “The rest has been buried, but them ribs have stood all the swash for - years. They ought to be there.” - </p> - <p> - There was another long silence. - </p> - <p> - Then Captain Holstrom straightened up. “They’re there!” said he. He - beckoned to me. I was at the rail. “Come in here,” he directed. “It’s your - next peek—for yonder is laid out your job.” - </p> - <p> - I had good eyes and I spotted the objects right off. There were three - curved ribs of a ship outlined against the white of the breaking rollers - beyond. The telescope gave the view relief and perspective, and I saw that - the ribs were well outshore. Many yards of tossing water, so I judged, - were between them and land. - </p> - <p> - “Well, what do you think?” he inquired, when I passed the glass back. - </p> - <p> - “I’ll tell you after I’ve been down, sir. A diver can’t afford to waste - guesswork on the top side of water.” - </p> - <p> - The girl shook her head when her father offered her the telescope, and - Keedy came in and took his look. - </p> - <p> - “Away in there, is it? Well, what are we waiting for out here?” - </p> - <p> - Captain Holstrom looked his partner up and down. - </p> - <p> - This sudden exhibition of a lack of a practical knowledge took his breath - away for a moment. - </p> - <p> - “We’re waiting out here because we have got to stay here, Marcena. This is - as far as it’s safe to go.” - </p> - <p> - “We might as well sit on the Cliff House piazza and boss the job as be out - here,” grumbled the gambler. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t know what sort of an idea you had about getting this treasure,” - retorted the captain. “But if you had paid attention to Ike when, he was - telling about the lay of the land you ought to have realized that we - wasn’t going to tie up to that wreck and have Sidney hook bags of gold on - to a fish-line for you to pull up.” - </p> - <p> - “I’m down here to have a general oversight in this business,” said Keedy, - “and I propose to be near enough to the job to oversee it.” - </p> - <p> - Captain Holstrom looked a bit disgusted. “We might rig a bos’n’s chair for - you on one of them ribs, and cut a hole in the water for you to look down - through. But see here, Marcena, don’t get foolish about this thing. All - you’ve been thinking about, so I judge, is of them boxes of gold, and you - haven’t stopped to figure on the way of getting ’em. I have - figured. I’ve talked a lot with old Ike when you wasn’t listening, but was - dreaming about them ingots. Now you listen to me. Let’s start in without a - row and a general misunderstanding.” He began to dot off his points with a - stubby forefinger. - </p> - <p> - “We can’t anchor the <i>Zizania</i> any nearer. There isn’t holding-ground - on that sand, and we’ve got to have plenty of water under this steamer in - case of a blow. See those lighters forward? I bought ’em after I - got a general understanding of the lay of the land here from Ike.” - </p> - <p> - “You bought a lot of things without consulting me,” said Keedy, showing - his grouch. “What <i>am</i> I in this thing—a passenger or a - partner? Seeing that my money is in it, I propose to have my brains in, - too.” - </p> - <p> - The man acted and talked in a way to indicate that he was starting out - hunting for trouble. It began to look to me as if there were worse shoals - ahead for our partnership than the shoals of San Apusa Bar. Mr. Jones had - given me that as the name of the place where the wreck lay. - </p> - <p> - Capt. Rask Holstrom did not have the steadiest temper in the world. His - eyes narrowed. - </p> - <p> - “Every man for his own line, Keedy. I’m not presuming to tell you how to - deal from the box, nor how to size the buried card in stud poker. Nor I - don’t need any advice from you when it comes to handling a job of work in - tidewater. I’ve waited till I got here to tell you my plans. When I can - talk and you can see the layout at the same time, I’ll not be wasting so - much breath; even those faro-game brains of yours can take in what I’m - getting at. Now, hold right on! This is going to be a square deal, and you - can sit close to the jack-pot. Those four lighters are going overboard, - and we’ll moor them in a chain between here and the shore. We can splice - the cables so as to allow a hundred fathoms between each one. That will - make each lighter a sort of a bridle anchor for the others, and we ought - to get the inshore lighter mighty nigh the wreck. You can stay on that - lighter and have your meals brought if you hanker to.” - </p> - <p> - He snapped out that last remark while he was backing down the ladder from - the bridge to the main deck. The sneer that went with it did not improve - the state of Keedy’s feelings. - </p> - <p> - “I’ll show this aggregation whether I can boss a job or not,” he growled. - </p> - <p> - I decided right then that if Keedy tried to boss me from that inshore - lighter the partnership of Holstrom, Keedy & Sidney would get a - fracture in the second joint much wider than the one which was already - widening there. I looked after him when he strolled away, and I reckon if - he had turned around and given me one of those nasty looks of his just - then I would have run after him and hoisted him a good one under the - coat-tail—gladly taking the consequences. I had never hated Anson C. - Doughty any worse. Keedy had grafted himself on to the project with stolen - money—and now he was insulting the rest of us by placing us in the - rogue class with himself and in need of watching. - </p> - <p> - I suppose I looked very blue and ugly and disgusted as I stood there at - the rail, scowling first at Keedy and then at the streaming white of the - surf which played beyond the ribs of the wreck. - </p> - <p> - The girl spoke to me. She leaned from the window of the wheel-house, and - there was a note in her voice I had never heard before. All her - brusqueness was gone. She was sort of confidential and wistful. - </p> - <p> - “You don’t think much of this scheme, do you, Mr. Sidney?” - </p> - <p> - I was in the mood to agree with her. “There must be an almighty good - reason why those other fellows did not recover the treasure, Miss - Holstrom, providing old Ike is right in what he says and that they didn’t - get it. I can tell better after I have been down.” - </p> - <p> - “I have never seen a diver at work. It is very dangerous, isn’t it?” - </p> - <p> - “That depends on the job. I have been as deep as one hundred and seventy - feet, Miss Holstrom, and I felt perfectly safe, though the pressure made - my nose bleed. Another time I was down in only four fathoms in the wash of - a lee shore, and they couldn’t keep my lines and my air-hose dear, and - they pulled me up near dead. That’s a lee shore yonder, and I’m afraid I’m - going to find some very good reasons why the other divers didn’t succeed. - Sometimes I am tempted to believe that they did get the gold and that old - Ike’s talk is simply a dream.” - </p> - <p> - “I think the whole affair is a nightmare—I mean this trip,” she - declared. “I don’t believe the good Lord is going to allow a man like - Marcena Keedy to succeed in any decent enterprise.” - </p> - <p> - I rubbed my ear and looked at her for a few minutes. I had been turning - over a thought about this expedition in my mind for some days. I did not - know whether to say anything to her about it or not. It would be giving - Captain Holstrom a pretty hard dig. But I blurted it, for she knew I had - something on my mind and bluntly demanded to know what I was thinking - about. - </p> - <p> - “Perhaps this is the kind of a scheme where the devil will help his own, - Miss Holstrom—and therefore Keedy belongs in the thick of it as - chief manager. He’ll win on that basis. I don’t know much about admiralty - law or maritime justice. But it may be that this treasure has not been - officially abandoned. Perhaps taking it is stealing it. I know that the <i>Zizania</i> - got away from port with papers as a trawl fisher. I know I have no - business talking like this about your father’s affair. But if it’s to be - real stealing, perhaps we’ll succeed with Keedy in the game,” I said—and - it was a pretty clumsy joke. It fell flat. - </p> - <p> - “I hope my father will wake up,” she said, curtly, looking down on him - where he was giving off orders about clearing the big derrick. “Sometimes - I almost believe in evil spirits and in control of a man’s mind by another - man—in a wicked way, I mean. But I thank God there’s one of the - Holstrom family who can’t be hypnotized by Marcena Keedy. That is why I - have come on this voyage—my father needs a guardian.” - </p> - <p> - She came down the steps from the wheel-house, and went into her - state-room. I walked aft, for the <i>Zizania</i> had swung with the - surges, and was tailing toward shore, and I wanted to look at the place - where my work had been cut out for me. - </p> - <p> - Keedy met me amidship. He came out from behind a lashed life-boat, and it - struck me at once that he had been in ambush, spying on me. That was - before he had opened his mouth. He did not leave me in any doubt when he - began to talk. - </p> - <p> - “Let’s get to an understanding about Miss Holstrom, Sidney,” he rasped, - leveling his finger at me. “You let her alone. No more buzzing her behind - my back or her father’s.” - </p> - <p> - “Keedy, you have started running after trouble to-day. In my case, you’ll - catch up with it mighty soon.” - </p> - <p> - “Then let’s make believe I have caught up. I’m going to marry that young - lady. And no cheap Yankee masher is going to stand around and make sheep’s - eyes at her. That’s business and you keep your hands down. You slap me - again, Sidney, and I’ll drop you in your tracks—even if the gold - stays there till we can get another diver.” He had his hand on his hip, - and his eyes were fairly green. - </p> - <p> - I started to tell him what I thought of him and his chances with that - girl, proposing to throw in a few remarks about what I should do if I - wanted to. But I shut my mouth suddenly. I had no right to stand out there - and insult a girl by quarreling about her with a fellow of that stripe. - </p> - <p> - Vastly different were the circumstances and the relations of the persons - concerned—but I felt the same rankling of resentment which hurt my - pride and my feelings when Jeff Dawlin growled his warning in my ear. I - hated to leave any false impressions with Keedy. I did not propose to have - him think I envied him anything he possessed or thought he possessed. - Pride and the spirit of brag—that was it—prompted my answer. - </p> - <p> - “Look here,” I shot out at him, “I have a girl East who is worth more than - all the gold you expect to find in that wreck over there. What do you - think I’m out in this God-forsaken country for? What do you think I’m - gambling along with you for? It’s so I can grab off enough money to make a - showing when I carry it back home and pour it into her lap! Don’t you - worry, Keedy. I don’t want any of your girls. There’s one who is waiting - for me back East!” How a man will lie when he gets to talking about girls! - I snapped my fingers under Keedy’s nose and walked on aft. I felt - considerably relieved because I figured I had taken some of the conceit - out of him. I had a lot taken out of myself when I returned. - </p> - <p> - Miss Kama Holstrom met me. She gave me one of those up-and-down glances - which seem to sting like the flick of a long lash. - </p> - <p> - “I have no objection to your discussing your love affairs with Mr. Keedy, - my dear sir—though I question your good taste. But I must ask you - not to discuss me with him.” - </p> - <p> - “I assure you I did not!” - </p> - <p> - “I stepped into my state-room only to get my cap. I was walking on the - other side of the life-boat when you were talking.” - </p> - <p> - “But I—” - </p> - <p> - “I’m sure you understand my request, sir.” She walked on. - </p> - <p> - A fine partnership—that of Holstrom, Keedy, and Sidney, - treasure-seekers! And there was a silent partner whose silence just then, - along with her disgust, sent a crimson flame into my cheeks. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0031" id="link2H_4_0031"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - XXX—THE LOCKS OF THE SAND - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">R</span>IGHT away I found - that Captain Holstrom knew how to “team” a crew. He started that - checkerboard outfit of his to humping in good earnest after he and I had - planned out the details of setting the stage for the work ahead of us. - </p> - <p> - We needed to reach as long an arm as possible toward the wreck. - </p> - <p> - Inside of four days after we planted our mud-hooks on San Apusa Bar, we - had our string of lighters in place. - </p> - <p> - First we anchored them and then we linked them with one another by cables - because the sandy bottom inshore from the steamer afforded poor - holding-ground for the anchors. Having a number of lighters hitched - together in this manner, the chain made a sort of spring cable for the - lighter nearest the wreck where the scuffling surges were piling high over - the shoals. The scow nearest the shore thrashed about in rather lively - style, but I figured that I could do my work from it in pretty fair - fashion. At any rate, by our system of cables, we planted the lighter less - than three hundred feet from the upstanding ribs of the Golden Gate. It - was about the best we could do, considering our limited equipment. - </p> - <p> - On the fifth day all was ready for me to go down for the first time. - </p> - <p> - Of course I had been allowed to pick my own helpers, and I had been giving - them lessons for some time. I chose Mate Number-two Jones to tend hose and - lines, and Chief-Engineer Shank was to manage the air-pump. - </p> - <p> - I had found them to be steady and reliable men. I owned a Heinke - diving-dress which had cost me six hundred dollars, and with the right men - “up-stairs” I was not worrying about my ability to get down and stay down—even - if I had been off my job for a while. As to what I would be able to - accomplish when I got down on ocean’s floor I was not quite so sure. - </p> - <p> - While I had been waiting for the lighters to be moored I had pumped Ingot - Ike daily. - </p> - <p> - He did seem to know what he was talking about—and I had to admit - that. The matter of the treasure of the <i>Golden Gate</i> had crowded - everything else out of his mind, and left his memory mighty dear. He drew - a plan of her with a stubby pencil, and went into minute details of - description. He said the ribs which showed were forward of the room where - the treasure had been stored. The fire had been aft and amidship, and when - she had struck the sand she had buried her nose, and these ribs were - planted so solidly that the surf had not been able to beat them down. As a - quartermaster who had known his ship, he was able to tell me how many - paces aft from the standing ribs should be the spot where the treasure - lay. - </p> - <p> - They made ready the best life-boat on the <i>Zizania</i> for me and my - equipment, a big yawl with sponsons. Captain Holstrom did not propose to - take any chances with that outfit during the ferrying process. He went as - coxswain, and I was not surprised, of course, to see Keedy scramble in - even before I had lowered my diving-dress over the side. What did surprise - me was to have Miss Kama show up as a passenger. When she stepped past me - and went down the ladder my eyes bugged out. I thought ’twas - somebody I had never seen before. She wore knickerbockers, and was - gaitered to the knees, and she went into the life-boat as nimbly as a - midshipman, asking a hand from no one. I could have cracked Keedy across - the face with a relish for the way he rolled his eyes at her. - </p> - <p> - She showed the good sense of an out-of-door girl who understood a thing or - two when she picked that costume. Embarking and disembarking with that - surf running under a keel was no job for a girl in skirts. - </p> - <p> - When we came up beside the in-lying lighter we were climbing white-flaked - hills of water and coasting dizzily into green valleys. Those waves of the - old Pacific which had marched across seas from the lee of the Society - Islands were certainly making a great how-de-do in halting on those - sand-bars of the Mexican coast; and inshore there in the shallows the surf - had a nastier fling to it than off where we had found holding-ground for - the old <i>Zizania</i>. It was a case of every one for himself in making - the transfer from the life-boat to the lighter. I was ready to assist the - girl, but she set foot on the gunwale, sprang with the heave of the boat, - and landed on deck as lightly as a bird; she could not have done the trick - more neatly if she had worn wings on the shoulders of that close-fitting - sweater. - </p> - <p> - There was one cheerful moment for me on that day of anxiety; Keedy was the - last passenger out of the lifeboat, and he teetered and made motions to - jump, and flinched and squirmed and backed water like a swimmer afraid to - plunge in. When he did jump at last he stubbed his toe on the deck of the - lighter, and raked that hooked beak of his across the planks. I grinned at - him when he staggered up, holding to his bleeding nose, and I went to - overhauling my diving-dress, whistling a tune. - </p> - <p> - I found Number-two Jones and round little Romeo Shank to be helpful - handy-Andys after the instructions I had given them. The girl never missed - a motion they made in getting me ready. I felt a warm finger trying to - worm its way under my rubber wristbands, and I turned to find her looking - at me with a great deal of concern. She explained that she wanted to be - sure that no water could leak in, and then she seemed to think that she - had been just a bit forward, and she blushed. - </p> - <p> - The next thing I knew she was sturdily fetching one of my twenty-pound - shoes, and stood there holding it ready for my helpers. I had gone down a - good many times in my life, but I went that day with the happy - consciousness of helpful interest in my poor self. - </p> - <p> - Then they set the helmet on to the breastplate and gave it its one-eighth - turn into the screw bayonet joint, and set the thumb-screws. My front - eyepiece was hinged like the window of a ship’s port-hole, and this was - open. The girl bent down and peered at my face. - </p> - <p> - “It seems a terrible thing for you to be closed in there—for you to - go down into that raging water,” she said, her face close to mine. - </p> - <p> - “Wish me good luck, and I’ll go humming a tune,” said I, smiling at her. - </p> - <p> - “With all my heart I do,” she answered, a catch in her voice. - </p> - <p> - I shut the frame, and Mr. Shank set the turn-screw. With a man on each - side of me, I scuffed my way to the ladder, and went over the rail of the - lighter. I waited at the foot of the ladder—about ten feet under—until - I felt that little pop in my ears which signals to the diver that his - Eustachian tube is open, and that the pressure is equalized. Then I yanked - the rope to ask for a taut lifeline, and let go my hold. - </p> - <p> - The sun was bright and the bed of the sea was of sand, and I found good - light below. There was a heavy sway to the water even on bottom, but I was - strong, and knew how to handle myself. I found my footing, and started - along. - </p> - <p> - My only tool that day was a peaked-nose shovel. I crawled along, using it - for a push-pole. - </p> - <p> - I found the bottom to be a succession of bars, which were parallel with - the shore—waves of sand, so to speak, ranging from six to ten feet - in height. It was a slow job working one’s way across them. However, they - assisted me—there was no danger of getting off one’s course. I - needed only to proceed at right angles to the bars. Through my bull’s-eye - in that dim green light I could see ahead for some distance. So at last I - came to the timbers of the wreck. There was a long tangle of these, a - great mass of wreckage hidden by the sea and protruding but a little way - above the sand which the eternal surf had packed down. I kept along toward - shore until I came to the timbers which, so my eyes told me, must be the - ones that marked the location of the wreck. They went looming up through - the water. I clung to one of them and rested. I was having no trouble with - my air, and now that I had reached the scene of the work that fact - comforted me. The movement of the sea in that shallower water was - considerable, and now and then a heavier roller jostled me about. But I - began to plan out a system of lashings that would anchor me. - </p> - <p> - Then I got down on my belly, and started to measure paces along the edge - of the timbers, following Ike’s instructions as to distance. There was - mighty little that was encouraging about the spot which I finally located - as the probable site of the treasure-chamber. Sand was billowed and packed - there, and the place was quite free from wreckage. It occurred to me that - the other divers had dug the timbers away at this point. As I was feeling - fairly fresh, I decided to use my shovel a bit. - </p> - <p> - After five minutes’ toil at that sand I began to perceive why the others - had failed, providing Ingot Ike was correct and they <i>had</i> failed. In - the first place, there was not the footing on that bottom that a submarine - diver needs. I skated about almost helplessly when the heaving sea - clutched at me. When I tried to drive the shovel into the sand I was - pushed back, and the tool made only scratches on the bottom. Without a - prop or a brace, a diver cannot pull or push horizontally with much force - even under the best conditions, and when I did succeed in getting the - shovel into the sand and scooped a hole, the particles began to settle - back, driven by the swaying seas. The giant Pacific was jealous of the - treasure it had engulfed. - </p> - <p> - There was nothing more for me to do down there that day. I began to feel - that pain above the eyes which warns the diver. I gave the signal for - return, and went back at a lively pace, for the taut line helped. - </p> - <p> - I saw none of them on the lighter until my helmet had been removed, for - when a diver ascends to the air his bull’s-eye becomes covered with mist - in spite of the wash of vinegar which has kept the glass clear below. - Marcena Keedy was in front of me, looking at my hands, and acting as - though he were wondering where I had stowed the find I had made below. - </p> - <p> - “Well, it’s there, isn’t it?” he demanded. - </p> - <p> - “From what little I have been able to find out, I reckon it is there,” I - told him; “and it wouldn’t surprise me much if it stayed there for some - time.” I was in no mood to encourage that polecat, who was plainly - thinking more about that treasure than he was about any dangers I might - have been through. He drew that streak-o’-paint mustache up against his - nose and looked like a dog about to snap. I turned away from him so as to - have something better to look at. There was the girl beside me. She sure - was an antidote for the poison of Marcena Keedy’s evil eye. Her red lips - were apart, and her little hands were clasped, finger interlaced with - finger. - </p> - <p> - “Thank God you are back safe, Mr. Sidney!” - </p> - <p> - She wasn’t looking at me as though she were wondering in which pocket I - had hidden an ingot of gold. - </p> - <p> - “It was not dangerous,” I told her. “It was disappointing, that’s all.” - </p> - <p> - I ignored Keedy. I looked past him to Captain Hol-strom, and related what - had happened below. It was a mighty interested crowd that stood around me - and listened. - </p> - <p> - “The idea is,” I wound up, “this is no ‘reach-down-and-pick-it-up’ - proposition.” - </p> - <p> - “That’s what I call doing damn little in an hour’s work,” growled Keedy. - “You ain’t down here to tell us how hard that job is. We have heard all - about that from the other divers. You are down here to get that gold. You - bragged around what a devil of a diver you have been, and now when we have - to depend on you, all we get is some more conversation. Have you got us - away down here and let us in on a dead one?” - </p> - <p> - “If that money was in a faro-bank instead of a sandbank,” I told him, “you - would be just the man to get it out—you have had plenty of practice - in that line. But this happens to be an honest job, and it needs something - besides false cards.” - </p> - <p> - Then I kept on talking to the captain: - </p> - <p> - “After giving the thing a good looking-over I have begun to figure on a - few plans. I’ll paw over and size up the stuff on the <i>Zizania</i> this - afternoon and see what there is in stock to help me.” I told Mr. Jones to - unstrap my shoes. - </p> - <p> - When Keedy saw them peeling off my dress he had a few more remarks to - offer about the kind of a “hot diver” a man was who called an hour a day’s - work. If I had brought up an ingot in each hand from that first trip he - wouldn’t have been grateful; he would have wanted to know why I did not - bring up the whole box. - </p> - <p> - I had a dirty job of it that afternoon pawing over the old junk on board - that steamer, but I managed to sort out some material that fitted into my - scheme, and it was ferried to the lighter. - </p> - <p> - I went down again the next morning at sunrise, for the southwest - trade-wind had quieted during the night, and the swell wasn’t quite as - energetic as it had been under the push of the breeze the previous day. - </p> - <p> - I had the same spectators. Miss Kama, looking like a pretty boy in her - knickerbockers, had plainly determined to keep in the front row, and I’ll - own up that her presence put ginger into my efforts. I reckoned I’d show - her the difference between a man who could do and dare and a sneering - loafer of the caliber of Keedy. A handsome girl usually has an effect of - that sort on a young man. - </p> - <p> - When I reached bottom under the lighter they lowered an old mushroom - anchor to me. I unhooked it, and started to roll it along the “windrows” - of sand toward the wreck. It took every ounce of strength in me to boost - it up those slopes. I had lashed a crowbar to the anchor stock, and when I - finally got the thing to the wreck and had rested I stuck to the job, - though I had really done as much as was advisable at one descent. - </p> - <p> - I loosened up a sizable patch of sand with the crowbar, and settled the - anchor in the hole, stock upright. There was no need for me to pack the - sand back; the Pacific Ocean would attend to that part of the job. The - Pacific was altogether too busy in packing sand, though. It did not - discriminate between an anchor which I wanted made solid and treasure - which I wanted set free. - </p> - <p> - I went down a second time that day. I carried small chains and a broad - shovel. I lashed myself to the anchor’s stock, and with that support as a - fulcrum for my body I dug into the sand with the crowbar, and fanned out - the loose particles with the broad shovel. - </p> - <p> - But it was like the reverse of the story of the man who set out to carry - water in a sieve. The sand kept running in. If I had been able to stay - down there night and day, and have my meals brought to me, and could have - worked without rest or sleep, I might have been able to dig a hole in that - sand and to keep it dug out until I had come to that treasure. As it was, - I toiled until my head seemed splitting, until blood ran from my nose, and - I felt the first weakness of that peculiar paralysis of the limbs which - divers experience when they pass the limit set for endurance under water. - I lashed my tools to the anchor, and was pulled back to the lighter. - </p> - <p> - Human arms had given up—human strength and grit had failed. But I - knew that through the hours of that afternoon, through the watches of the - night, that old, miserly ocean would keep toiling on, rolling sand back - into that hole, patting it down with unseen fingers, locking a door over - the treasure that would serve the purpose better than doors of steel or - bars of bronze. I should find all my labor undone when I came back to that - anchor. - </p> - <p> - Therefore I did not lark and play when I was dragged over the rail of the - old lighter. I stumbled to my seat, and sat and wiped blood from my face - when the helmet had been twisted off the breastplate. - </p> - <p> - “Four hours since you went down—you’re sure a wonder!” muttered - Shank, patting my dripping shoulder. - </p> - <p> - I was embarrassed—a bit shocked—when the girl hurried to me - and began to wipe away the blood with her little handkerchief. I tried to - push away her hands. It didn’t seem right to have her do such a task. But - she resisted me. She kept on. - </p> - <p> - “You poor boy!” she said—or I thought she said it; I was not sure. - There was pity in her tones—a caressing kind of pity, such as comes - right from a woman’s heart. I was astonished. She had been stiff and curt - toward me—and was rather short with every one else, for that matter. - She had never seemed tender even toward her own father. - </p> - <p> - But she murmured again in my ear, leaning close to me, “You poor boy!” - </p> - <p> - I’ll admit I was glad to hear her say it—I needed sympathy; but - because I mention the girl and her little ways please do not jump at the - conclusion that I was falling in love. She had overheard a declaration - which established my standing with her and, I suppose, made her feel freer - in my company. Oh no! I was not falling in love! - </p> - <p> - Sitting there as I did with forty pounds of lead on my feet and eighty - pounds of it across my shoulders, with air in my dress puffing me out like - a giant frog, dripping with brine, and hideous with blood-smeared face, I - wasn’t much to look at in the way of a lover. And outside of the pity she - had never by flicker of eyelid, or tone of voice, or touch of hand - intimated that she was interested in me except as a young man who was - tugging at a hard job and deserved a little encouragement. - </p> - <p> - “It’s all—all useless—down there—isn’t it?” she asked. - </p> - <p> - “No; it’s a glorious job, and I’ve just begun on it.” - </p> - <p> - “But it’s wicked for you to suffer like this.” - </p> - <p> - “I was never so comfortable and happy in all my life—never so full - of courage.” - </p> - <p> - Keedy was listening and I felt like tormenting him. He stuck his face down - to mine. It was not a pretty face. His nose was swathed in absorbent - cotton, which was held on with straps of court-plaster. - </p> - <p> - “Well, let me in on why you’re so happy,” he snapped. - </p> - <p> - “It doesn’t happen to be any of your business,” I informed him. - </p> - <p> - “Ain’t I a partner in this thing with you?” - </p> - <p> - “When I get ready to tell you anything about my work, I’ll see that you - are informed. Or, if you want to make the trip, I’ll tuck you under my arm - and take you down to-morrow. I’d be delighted to do so.” He looked at me a - little while and his eyes narrowed. - </p> - <p> - That evening I had a talk with Capt. Rask Holstrom. - </p> - <p> - Marcena Keedy was not in that conference. I walked the upper deck until - Keedy had gone, grunting and growling, off into his state-room. Then I - hunted up the captain where he was lying on the transom in the - wheel-house, puffing at his pipe and looking rather sullen. - </p> - <p> - I knew what was ailing him. I had refused earlier in the evening to come - into the wheel-house while Keedy was there. - </p> - <p> - “Being a plain and blunt man, I may as well say what’s on my mind,” stated - Captain Holstrom, sourly. He did not arise. He squinted ar me from under - the vizor of his cap, which was pulled low over his eyes. “You ain’t - dealing with me and Keedy open and frank as your partners. You ain’t - giving us full particulars. You was down four hours to-day, and came up - looking blue and scared, and then just talked flush-dush with my girl. We - ain’t down here for anything except straight business and results. Your - two eyes are the eyes for all three of us. When you have used ’em - down below there we’re entitled to have full report. Me and Keedy ain’t at - all satisfied with the way this thing is running on.” - </p> - <p> - I sat and looked at him, and waited to hear whether he had any more to - say. - </p> - <p> - “No, sir, we ain’t satisfied,” he repeated. - </p> - <p> - “I’m glad Mr. Keedy isn’t satisfied,” I told him. “I wish he would get so - dissatisfied that he would quit this expedition. And I don’t intend to - kowtow to him and make him satisfied.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I’ll be damnationed!” exploded the captain, pushing back his cap. - </p> - <p> - “You needn’t be, Captain Holstrom. What I say doesn’t have any reference - to you at all. I hope my relations and yours will stay as they are—no, - I hope they will improve as you know me better. But that gambler has - grafted himself on to this scheme. He isn’t a practical man, as you are. - He sneers at me and my work—and God knows it’s hard and dangerous - work. He expects impossible things, and it doesn’t do any good to come up - out of that hell of water and explain to him. Every time he opens his - mouth I feel like jumping down his throat and galloping his gizzard out of - him. There! That’s rough talk, but I mean it. If Marcena Keedy doesn’t - handle himself different where I’m concerned there’s going to be serious - trouble aboard here. Hold on a moment! Hear me through. I respect your - good judgment and I know you are willing to work hard. I’m ready to talk - to you at any time when that sneak isn’t around. What you say to him after - that about plans and expectations I don’t care—that’s your own - business. But I’m sorry you don’t hate and distrust him as much as I do. - Now I’ll tell you what I found down there to-day, and how the thing looks - to me.” I told him. - </p> - <p> - “Then, if all that is so, we may as well up killick and go home, eh?” I - never saw a more disgusted look on a man’s face, or heard a more - melancholy tone. - </p> - <p> - “I haven’t told you that to discourage you, or to crybaby myself. I’m - giving you the facts, and I hope you’re practical man enough to keep from - sneering about my efforts the way Keedy does. I’m doing all that a human - being can do—but you’ve got to face facts, Captain Holstrom, and - I’ve been giving you facts, I say. That’s the situation—that’s all! - You know as much as I know. If you have ideas, think ’em over and - give ’em to me. I’ll keep on trying to think up something myself.” - I went off to my state-room so as to give him time to do that thinking. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0032" id="link2H_4_0032"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - XXXI—A TASTE OF BLOOD - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE old Pacific was - in her usual welter next morning. - </p> - <p> - The big seas were rolling up from the equator, and we could hear them - booming in on the coast-line. - </p> - <p> - As I look back on that nightmare off the bars of San Apusa I think the day - when I went down with the anchor was the calmest day of our stay. With the - everlasting thrust of the trades behind them the billows rolled, rolled, - rolled, rolled—seethed and surged—giant green soldiers with - the white plumes, charging that sandy shore. I got to feel after a time - that they were soldiers in real earnest, and that they were after me—poor - little midget, who was trying to accomplish the impossible. - </p> - <p> - At breakfast Mr. Shank ventured to remark politely and somewhat nervously - that he was supposing I would not try to go down that day. - </p> - <p> - And I told Mr. Shank rather brusquely that of course I should go down, and - added that if we were to wait for smooth water in soundings on the lee - shore of the Pacific Ocean in the season of the trades, we should have - brought plenty of knitting-work and novels. - </p> - <p> - Captain Holstrom, from the head of the table, smiled and winked at me with - the most cordial expression I had ever seen on his face. I decided that - one of my partners was regarding me in a more amiable frame of mind than - he had before I had made that little speech to him. Mr. Keedy scowled at - me, and I was glad of that mark of his continued disesteem. It occurred to - me that perhaps I was weaning the captain from Keedy, for Holstrom snapped - his friend up rather short two or three times during the meal. - </p> - <p> - I went down that day with more weights. The tug of those rollers inshore - was tremendous for a buoyant man, even in the comparative calm of the - previous day. I realized what I would meet up with this day, and I was not - disappointed in my reckoning. - </p> - <p> - I was tumbled from hummock to hummock of the submarine sand-bars. I was - knocked down and then was stood up once more. Sometimes I was lifted off - my feet, and then I was rolled and pressed down and pinned to the sand - till it seemed that I would never get on my feet again. Part of the time I - was thrust ahead as if the Pacific were trying to make me walk Spanish—and - then I was yanked backward on all-fours like a big crab. - </p> - <p> - I knew a whole lot about undertows, and I realized that I was having an - experience with a particularly crazy one. - </p> - <p> - Men who have observed and studied think they have a pretty good line on - the notions and the moods of the sea—but take it from me as a - submarine diver, they haven’t. If one is standing on a rock and looking - out on it, or sailing across it in a safe boat, the ocean becomes a matter - of “beautiful surf,” or an expanse more or less hubbly with waves. - </p> - <p> - But get down into it—get down deep where it can play with you, twirl - you, toss you, suck your breath, provided it can throttle your air-hose—where - it can work all its schemes and its spite. You will find out that the - ocean has a new trick for every day. - </p> - <p> - There are beaches where persons have bathed in safety for years. Then all - at once some day a shrieking man or woman is seized, as though by some - hidden monster, and is dragged off to death. That mighty and erratic force - is called an undertow. It is now here, now there. It is born out of - diverted currents, checked tide rips. It sneaks up bays, seeking prey; it - roams along open Peaches. I know a lot more about undertows, but that’s - all for now. - </p> - <p> - I was in one that day off San Apusa. Wind, tide, a current wandering off - its course—one of the currents that is uncharted and which is known - only by some diver who meets it on its wanderings below the surface, had - combined, and had come to play in the vicinity of the wreck of the old <i>Golden - Gate</i>. - </p> - <p> - I struggled on toward that wreck. Say, I met an old friend of mine. It was - the mushroom anchor, and it was doing a sort of jig on top of a sand ridge - when I first saw it. Evidently it had been lonesome during the night, and - it had come to meet me. It was at least one hundred feet on the sea side - of the wreck—and I had left it with fluke buried close to the ribs. - If that undertow had dug up that anchor it might be doing other things. - That thought came to me like a flash of hope. There’s no telling what an - undertow will do when it gets to prancing, you know! - </p> - <p> - I unlashed the crowbar from the anchor stock and tumbled on over the - ridges. I found myself in an opaque yellow light instead of in the green - radiance I had found on my other two trips, and I knew that the sand was - in motion inshore. When I came to the wreckage of the steamer I did not - know my way about. The undertow had been dragging away the packing of sand - here and there. More bulk of the débris was displayed, so far as I could - judge by touch and by what I could see in the dim light. I groped my way - along to the great ribs which showed above water, in order to get my - bearing. It was a fight to get there. I was thrashed about and tossed and - slatted. I wasn’t exactly sure when I did get there, for other parts of’ - the wreck had been uncovered so much that one could easily be deceived in - water in which boiled so much sand that it was like working in soup. - </p> - <p> - However, I toiled back after I reckoned I had located the marker. - </p> - <p> - Yes, the old Pacific had truly had a change of heart since the day before. - The unseen fingers of that freakish undertow had been at work—they - were still at work. They were scooping out sand instead of piling it in. I - can best describe the appearance of things by saying that there was a - smother of sand in the swirling water. Now and then the water cleared when - the undertow let go its tuggings for a moment, and I could see parts of - the steamer which formerly had been hidden from me. - </p> - <p> - When I had counted the paces that should bring me in the neighborhood of - the treasure, I set my crowbar into the sand with all the strength I could - muster, and twisted it around and around in order to loosen the stuff. It - was wonderful how quickly the water dragged away what I set free from that - pack. - </p> - <p> - A bottle came bouncing up out of the hole. I dislodged pieces of broken - crockery. Ingot Ike had said that the treasure had been stored in a - compartment of the ship near the pantry. The sight of that jetsam - encouraged me. I stabbed with all my might, drove the crowbar in again and - again, struggled to hold myself on bottom, and muttered appeals to that - undertow in my frenzy of toil. I do not know how long I worked. I do know - that all my sensations informed me that I was remaining beyond my limit of - endurance. But the conviction came to me that this was not a chance to be - neglected. I was in a fever of hope. I wanted to show that coward of a - Marcena Keedy that a strong man could call the bluff of a loafer’s sneers. - I wanted to convince Capt. Rask Holstrom that he had not picked out a - piker, and perhaps I wanted a girl to give me the smile which success - ought to win. - </p> - <p> - Well—and here’s to the point!—all at once, when I was near - fainting, my crowbar struck something which was not bottles or crockery. I - managed at last to get the point of the bar under the object. I could not - see what it was. I only knew, as I worked the bar, edging it around the - thing to dislodge the sand, that the object was oblong and had corners. - </p> - <p> - My buoyancy and the swing of the rolling sea would not allow me to pry - with any great force. I could only pick at the sand and coax the box out. - In the end I had it where I could get my fingers under the edges—and - there’s one thing a diver can do: he can lift with the strength of a - giant, the air in his dress assisting him. - </p> - <p> - Yes, it <i>was</i> a box, so I found when I had it out. It was a heavy box - even when lifted there under the sea. It was a small box, and there could - be only one reason for such a small box being so heavy—it was one of - the bullion boxes. Of that fact I was convinced. - </p> - <p> - I carried several small chains at my belt—my lashings in case of - need. I circled the box with chains, and secured it to my body as best I - could, then clutched my arm about it for greater safety. As I worked I - grew more excited—I had drawn first blood in my duel with the old - Pacific. Excitedly I pulled the line to send my signal to the lighter, - asking for help on the return. They told me afterward that I gave the - emergency signal. Perhaps I did. They had been waiting for a signal for so - long that they were in a state of panic. They feared that I had been - drowned, for I had been down for horns. When they got my double tug, so - they told me later, Number-two Jones gave a yell, called every man on the - lighter to the rope, and proceeded to give me a run home in emergency - time. - </p> - <p> - The first yank took me off my feet. Overballasted by the box of gold, I - tipped head down, and butted the summit of the first hummock of sand with - my helmet. My neck was snapped to one side and my head got a tremendous - rap against the side of the helmet. I did not strike ground again until I - reached the next ridge. I struck that and bounced, and I think I took a - recess on breathing right then and there. I have not much recollection of - the rest of that three hundred feet of rush back to the lighter. I know I - hit a good many hummocks, and I must have passed away into dreamy - unconsciousness when the drag upward through the water to the rail of the - lighter began. - </p> - <p> - They told me that when I came over the rail I was bent double, and it was - some time before they saw that I had something tucked in my arms. - </p> - <p> - I heard somebody shout, “Oh, God, this man is dead!” But I was just - getting my wits back then. I opened my eyes. Two of the crew were holding - me up, and Shank had my helmet off. He yelled like a maniac: - </p> - <p> - “I’m wrong! He ain’t!” - </p> - <p> - “I’m mighty glad you’re wrong, Shank,” I told him. My voice was pretty - feeble, but the memory of that box came back to me, and my thoughts were - dancing even if I couldn’t dance with my body just then. - </p> - <p> - I tried to look around after that box, but I lost interest in it the next - instant. It’s pretty hard work for me to tell you what happened, and tell - it in a matter-of-fact way, as I’m trying to tell the rest of this yam. - When I looked around I saw Kama Holstrom on her knees a little way from - me, her face as pale as the white foam on the waves, her eyes wide open. I - think her ears had been closed by horror when Shank had let out his first - yell. - </p> - <p> - “You’re alive!” she cried. And the next instant I was very much alive, for - she leaped up and ran to me, and threw her arms around my neck and kissed - me squarely on the mouth. Then her face was no longer white. It flamed. - </p> - <p> - “I didn’t mean to—I am sorry—it was a mistake!” she gasped, - and she broke out and cried like a baby. But I caught her hand before she - could get out of reach of me, and pulled it to me and kissed it. - </p> - <p> - “Ah, if I <i>had</i> been dead you would have waked me up,” I told her. - </p> - <p> - “I’ve a blamed good mind to kiss you myself!” roared old Holstrom from - somewhere behind me. Then he let out a whoop and came and capered in front - of me. - </p> - <p> - “You’ve brought up twenty thousand dollars’ worth of gold!” he informed - me. “Five ingots, with the assay mark on ’em, and each worth four - thousand dollars. That’s the kind of a diver you are, Sidney! All - together, men! Three cheers for the greatest sea diver that ever wore lead - shoes!” And the men gave the cheers while he pounded his fists on my back. - </p> - <p> - I got a view of Marcena Keedy when I turned my head around. Mr. Keedy was - not showing any interest in my condition—not he. He was sitting on - deck with the open box hugged between his knees, and he was feeling over - those bars of gold like a lover fondling his lady’s cheek. - </p> - <p> - “I can’t say I’m stuck on the style of that critter,” mumbled Shank in my - ear. “He yanked that box away from you before we had fairly swung you - inboard and before anybody knew you was alive. He pried it open, and has - set there making love to it ever since.” - </p> - <p> - Old Ike was squatting in front of Keedy on his haunches, and was drooling - like a hound watching a butcher. - </p> - <p> - “It’s there! I’ve always said it was there. It’s there all bright and - shining. They all have hooted at me because I have said it was there. Now - what do you think?” - </p> - <p> - “Nobody has been a game sport in this thing except you and me,” said - Keedy, sticking an ingot up under Ike’s nose. “Nobody would back your hand - till I came along. I’ve had to talk everybody over before anybody would do - anything. I know how to play a hand with a buried card in it. I’ve played - that hand to the limit, and now see what has happened. When you fellows - are passing cheers around you’d better hooray for the man who has turned - the trick—for the man who kept at it till he got you down here.” - </p> - <p> - He gave me a nasty side-glance and snuggled the box under his legs just as - though he had recovered property which belonged to him. - </p> - <p> - “Where there’s one there’s the rest of ’em, eh, Sidney? You have - found the nest of the beauties, eh? Well, do we get another nice little - box to-day? We may as well open the game with forty thousand while we’re - about it.” - </p> - <p> - Shank was leaning close to me, unscrewing the wing nuts between the - breastplate and my collar-band. He began to swear very soulfully in an - undertone, and he kept on swearing when he got a look from me that - indorsed all his sentiments in regard to Mr. Keedy. - </p> - <p> - “There are three millions down there—and twenty thousand is only a - flea-bite,” declared the callous knave. I don’t believe he noticed that I - was half dead when I was pulled up—or cared a rap about my - condition, anyway. “I’m strong for bulling the game when it’s coming your - way. What do you say, Sidney, if we make the first day’s ante forty - thousand?” - </p> - <p> - “Captain Holstrom,” I said, “a man who has been banging the soul out of - himself for five hours in a divingsuit is in no condition to talk to a - skunk like that over there. Can’t you say something?” - </p> - <p> - I must confess that the captain did rise nobly to the occasion. A tugboat - man who has spent most of his life fighting for berths in the maze of - shipping along the San Francisco water-front needs considerable hot - language in his business, and Captain Holstrom was in good practice. - </p> - <p> - “So I’ve got the two partners against me now, have I?” snarled Keedy. “I - had to fight to get the two of you into the proposition, and now that - you’re making good I’ve got to fight both of you to keep the thing going, - have I? Thanks for the hint as to how you propose to hold cards—but - I serve notice right now that you can’t whipsaw me between you.” - </p> - <p> - He looked as evil as a door-tender in Tophet, but his threats did not - trouble me. - </p> - <p> - That evening something happened that indicated further cleavage of - associations on board the <i>Zizania</i>, whose checker-board crew had set - an example early in the cruise. - </p> - <p> - Ingot Ike came to the captain and myself in the wheel-house. - </p> - <p> - “Now that we’re beginning to haul in the bright and shining stuff that - makes the world go round I’d like to know where I’m going to get off when - the divvy comes,” said he. And he was more than a little insolent in the - way he said it. It was a good guess that he had absorbed more or less of - the insolence of his new running-mate, Marcena Keedy. - </p> - <p> - Captain Holstrom was pretty short with the man. He informed old Ike that - when the work was done and we knew what the profits would be he would be - handed a lay which would make him comfortable for life. “That was the - understanding between us when we started out on the gamble,” said the - captain. “You haven’t got a dollar ahead now—you never did have. A - lot of money wouldn’t do you any good, anyway. You don’t know how to keep - it or how to spend it.” - </p> - <p> - “That ain’t any of your business!” declared Ike, with heat. “We have begun - to get up that gold. We’ll get all of it. It’s there, just as I said it - was. I want ten per cent, of all that comes over the rail, and I want it - without any strings on it.” - </p> - <p> - “And if you got it laid into your hand you’d be around in six months - borrowing from me,” said the captain. “If this thing comes out as it ought - to, I’ll put enough in trust for you to pay you a hundred dollars a month - as long as you live. Now go off and dream of that, and be happy.” - </p> - <p> - “Happy your Aunt Lizy!” yelped the old man. “See here, me and Keedy is the - whole thing in this, and—” - </p> - <p> - Captain Holstrom arose and grabbed Ike and tossed him out of the - wheel-house door. - </p> - <p> - “Them two fellows,” he confided, wrathfully, to me, “will be charging me - board on this trip, besides taking all the profits for themselves, if I - don’t watch out.” - </p> - <p> - I did not confide to the captain any of my doubts that evening in our - talk. I was hoping for the best. I had recovered one box with the - assistance of my enemy, the old Pacific. I understood the queer and - notional quirks of undertows. I realized that history might not repeat - itself in this case—but the Pacific coast was new to me, and I was - not ready to believe that I had happened on the only case of an undertow - scooping sand instead of piling it and packing it. I went to bed, tired as - a hound after a chase. - </p> - <p> - And I went down into the sea again the next day, still hoping. Yes, I was - fairly confident—so confident that I carried a pair of ice-tongs. My - experience of the day before had shown me that this tool was just the - thing with which to grapple one of those boxes and lift it from the sand. - </p> - <p> - There was plenty of motion in the depths of the sea. But I realized that - it was not the motion of the day before. The swaying water thrust me ahead - over the hummocks with more force than it pulled me backward. The water - was clear and green once more. Where, oh, where had my undertow gone? - </p> - <p> - I had ground my crowbar into the sand where I worked the day before. I - could not find it, and after a survey I saw it had been covered by the - drifting sand. Portions of the wreck which had been in sight were hidden - again. The hole where I had wrought so valiantly was filled and smoothed. - It is wonderful how quickly currents of water can make changes in sand. I - had seen instances before in my submarine jobs; now I was beholding a more - striking case. After inspecting the scene I judged that the treasure was - buried more deeply than ever. The ocean had plenty of loose sand with - which to work, and had used it. I tell you honestly I never suffered such - an awful feeling of disappointment. The pang was worse because I had been - successful once. - </p> - <p> - It was as though my enemy, the ocean, had decided to give me one bite of - the fruit of success in order to whet the appetite of my expectations. It - had not relented in order to do that—it had played a devilish trick - on me. - </p> - <p> - It had shown me that the millions were there—money-enough for all - that life or love might require in this world. I had got a peep—had - got one taste—and the malicious ocean had tucked it all out of reach - once more, and was making faces at me with the wrinkles of that - hard-packed sand. - </p> - <p> - It was useless to remain down and exhaust myself. I signaled, and returned - to the lighter. - </p> - <p> - As soon as my bull’s-eye cleared after I came up out of the bubbling water - I saw Keedy. He was perched on the rail near the life-line coils, looking - down at me like a fish-hawk eying its prey. For a moment I was glad I did - not have another box. I enjoyed his disappointment. - </p> - <p> - Then, after my helmet was off, I told Captain Hol-strom that a change in - current had piled up the sand and that nothing could be done that day. - </p> - <p> - “That’s it!” raged Keedy, smacking his fist into his palm. “You wouldn’t - take my advice yesterday. You wouldn’t follow your hand when the cards - were running right. I understand about those things. That was the time to - double the ante! I know how to play the game for what it’s worth. There - ain’t any brains in this whole outfit except what I’ve got under my hat. I - see it’s up to me to go down there and show you how to do this thing.” - </p> - <p> - “I’ll be out of this diving-dress in a few minutes,” I told him. “You’re - welcome to use it.” - </p> - <p> - I had a wild hope that he was mad enough to go down—angry enough and - gold-hungry enough. It would have settled the case of Keedy if he had gone - down—soaked with rum and tobacco as he was. But he swore and walked - away and jumped into the life-boat—so much of a coward that he - wanted to put as great a distance between that dress and himself as he - could. - </p> - <p> - I can describe the happenings of the next two sad weeks in two words, - “Nothing doing!” - </p> - <p> - Not that I didn’t go down. I went every day. I tried all kinds of tools. I - sat up nights to think, and worked days under water until they had to pull - me back to the lighter, riding on my back over the sand hummocks, so weak - that I could not use my feet and drag my lead-weighted shoes. But the old - Pacific had given us our one mouthful of bait, and now was mocking us. If - I loosened sand the ocean took that sand and piled it higher over the - treasure. And all the time Keedy glowered and growled and swore, and said - I was not half trying. - </p> - <p> - One morning Captain Holstrom came banging on my state-room door before I - was awake. He tried to tell me something, fairly frothing at the mouth, - but the words tumbled over each other so rapidly that I couldn’t - understand. He was jabbing a slip of paper at me, and I took it and read: - </p> - <p> - <i>To Holstrom and Sidney,—With two partners working against me, I - claim the partnership is broken. After this I’ll work on my own hook, and - I’ll have a man who is a real diver, not a dub; and I warn you not to - bother me in any way.</i> - </p> - <p> - “Partnership broken!” yelled the captain. “And how do you suppose he has - broken it? He sneaked away in the night. He took Ike and four of my crew - and the best life-boat. But that ain’t the worst. He took the gold—all - of it! Took the twenty thousand. He had the key to the safe.” - </p> - <p> - “Why did you let him have the key to the safe?” - </p> - <p> - “Because he howled around that he ought to have some office as a partner, - and wanted to be treasurer. He has trimmed us for twenty thousand, and - he’ll use that money to fit out another expedition. He has done us good - and proper, and there ain’t anything sensible we can do about it.” - </p> - <p> - I reflected a few moments, and decided that, considering the kind of a - project we were working on, we could not afford to chase Keedy and howl. - In the opinion of certain persons interested in that wreck, we might - appear as thieves, ourselves, if the thing became known in Frisco. - </p> - <p> - I tried to say something to Captain Holstrom about being well rid of - Keedy, but I do not think he heard me. He was too busy stamping about and - swearing. That was truly a dark-blue morning on the <i>Zizania</i>. - </p> - <p> - They were certainly weary and hopeless days which tagged on after that. I - kept going down, for I hoped to meet up with another obliging undertow. - But San Apusa Bar did not seem to be a popular resort for undertows. - </p> - <p> - In about ten days we got another hard jolt. A little schooner came - swashing up in the lee of the <i>Zizania</i>, and a boat was rowed off to - us. The two men who leaped over the rail introduced themselves as Mexican - customs officers for the district off which we lay, and they wore the - uniform to prove their identity. It had been reported to them, they said, - that we were seeking treasure from the wreck of the <i>Golden Gate</i>, - and they told us we must stop such business at once and sail away or we - should lay ourselves liable to arrest and imprisonment. They had a lot to - tell us about what the law was, but I have forgotten. Maybe they were - giving us straight law, and maybe they were not. Neither Holstrom nor I - knew. - </p> - <p> - The captain did know men if he did not know law—and he was a man who - had mighty keen sense for a crook’s trail, having had a lot of experience - with crooks on the water-front. He rubbed his red knob of a nose for some - time, and listened. Then he invited the customs men into his sanctuary of - the wheel-house, and called me along with them. - </p> - <p> - “I know all about who has been talking this over with you, gents,” he told - them. “I reckoned he would make down the coast in that life-boat he stole - from me. He stole that boat, he stole my men, he stole what else he could - lay his hands on here. He is a yaller-faced faro-dealer. He never told the - truth, he never dealt square cards, he has always cut a corner on every - man he had business with. I don’t want to see you fooled. I’m the captain - of this steamer. You can see I’m something of a man. This is my partner, - and you can look at him and see that he is no crook. I’m going to get - right to the point, gents. Do you want to do business with a square man or - a crook? You might as well be open with me. Men have to live down here in - Mexico. I know all about this customs business along the coast. You’ve got - to do business to live.” - </p> - <p> - They blinked hard, but they did not protest. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t know how much of a ‘hot rock’ he dropped into your hat, but I’m - prepared to drop in a bigger and a hotter one.” - </p> - <p> - I had never heard that expression about a “hot rock” before, and I was - obliged to listen a little while longer in order to understand that - Captain Holstrom was talking thus bluntly about a bribe. - </p> - <p> - “In one case you’re doing business with a crook—a thief. He’ll turn - around and do you when he has used you. In this case you are dealing with - a man who has a name along the water-front, who owns this steamer, and who - is here to make a dollar for himself and for you. You are men with brains - and you can size up chaps pretty well. I’ll bet you didn’t like the looks - of that whelp with his cat’s eyes and his mustache cocked up—come, - now!” - </p> - <p> - They blinked harder. - </p> - <p> - The captain leaned to me and whispered in my ear: “Run and tell Kama to - give you every gold piece she has got in her pocket. Dig over your own - pockets. Tell the Joneses to dig. Bring it here. I’ve got to keep ’em - on the run with conversation.” - </p> - <p> - I returned with my collection, and the captain added the contents of his - own pocket, banging the coins on the transom. Then he swept the money into - a little sack and drove the sack down into the trousers pocket of one of - the officers. - </p> - <p> - “That’s only posting a little forfeit that we’ll do as we agree,” cried - Captain Holstrom, heartily. “We are here where you can watch us, gents. - But you can’t watch a fly-by-night like that coyote who has been lying to - you about us. Keep your eyes out—stand by us—and you’ll get a - ‘hot rock’ in your hat that you’ll need both hands to hold up. We’ll see - the other man’s stake and then raise him out of the game—and if we - don’t, then come and seize the steamer.” - </p> - <p> - He followed the men to the rail, shook hands with them half a dozen times, - and they returned most urbane grins when they rowed away. - </p> - <p> - As soon as they were out of ear-shot the captain cursed them in horrible - fashion and shook his clenched fist at them under pretense of waving - farewells. - </p> - <p> - “So that’s what Keedy done as quick as he got down coast to a port, hey? - Cleaned us out of what he could lug, and then sent them critters here to - finish the job. He probably thinks he is going to make a clear field here - for himself by strapping us for every cent, and then setting the customs - on to us as soon as he can drop another ‘hot rock’ into their hat so as to - raise us out.” - </p> - <p> - “Don’t those men feel bound in any way after taking money from us?” I - asked him. - </p> - <p> - “They feel bound till the next fellow gets to ’em, my son. Do you - see what we have got cut out for us? By the jumped-up Judy, we’ve got to - get that gold—and we’ve got to keep ahead of everybody else in - getting that gold, because them custom-house blood-suckers are going to - stick to the juiciest crowd. I don’t know what kind of an outfit Keedy - proposes to bring back here, but he has got twenty thousand dollars in his - fist, and a man can do a lot of business on charters with twenty thousand - dollars. And we haven’t got a sou markee.” - </p> - <p> - He stamped into the wheel-house, shaking his fist above his head, and I - walked up and down the upper deck, thinking some thoughts which I do not - care to call back to mind. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0033" id="link2H_4_0033"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - XXXII—PER MISTER MONKEY - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>S she had done - many times in those days of gloom and doubt, the girl came out of her - state-room and walked with me. Her companionship was a consolation. She - looked up at me from under her tousle of curls and swung along by my side - with an easy air of comradeship. - </p> - <p> - The word “comradeship” best expresses our attitude toward each other. - After that explosion of her feelings on board the lighter, when she had - kissed me in front of the whole bunch, she had coated herself with just a - little ice, and my Yankee reserve and sensitiveness detected it. It was as - though she had hinted to me that I would be a cad to presume further - because she had taken a woman’s interest in my misfortune. In fact, she - had dropped a few words in regard to women making fools of themselves when - they are too frightened to know what they are doing. - </p> - <p> - Furthermore, she stuck to that knickeroocker costume of hers, and I found - myself forgetting half the time that she was a girl, for she clambered - about over the truck aboard the old <i>Zizania</i> as no girl in skirts - could, and never needed a hand on her trips to and from the lighter. She - wore those clothes with such frank assurance that the garb was the only - suitable one for the circumstances, with such lack of self-consciousness, - that after a few days it really seemed as if the other men had forgotten - that we had a girl aboard. - </p> - <p> - Perhaps that accounts for the fact that when one of the firemen rushed - past us a few minutes later he was using language such as he would not - have used had he been properly mindful that there was a lady in hearing. - </p> - <p> - The fireman came from the depths below-decks, and was chasing the Russian - Finn’s monkey. He was so intent on the chase that when the fleeing monkey - invaded the sanctity of the upper deck the fireman came along, too. There - were several breathless instants in that part of the pursuit which we saw. - You will recollect that this monkey had a false end to his mutilated tail—a - curved wire, which was covered with cat’s fur. As the monkey fled, - screaming and swinging the heavy end of the tail from side to side, the - hook caught, first on a stanchion, then on a lifeboat prop. The monkey had - not entirely mastered the science of handling that new tail, or else he - was too excited just then to remember its limitations. When he had his own - pliant tail it didn’t matter if a loop hooked around an obstruction. But - now when the wire hooked itself the monkey was obliged to back up and - unhook that inflexible loop. Each time he stopped he lost all the lead he - had gained on the fireman. - </p> - <p> - Four times in traversing the upper deck the coal-heaver was near enough to - make a crack at the monkey with a grate bar. Each time the monkey unhooked - himself just in time to be able to dodge and continue the flight. Finally - the fugitive made the ensign mast by a rousing leap, shinned, up, and hung - over the dingy gilded ball at the top. I don’t understand monkey talk, but - I’m sure that the yells he sent down were just as pure profanity as that - which the fireman was howling up at him. - </p> - <p> - “Hey, there, my man,” I called, “that kind of talk doesn’t belong up - here.” - </p> - <p> - He shut up, gave the monkey a long and blistering stare, and came back - toward the ladder. Sweat was running down through the soot on his face, - and that face showed that he was in no pleasant frame of mind. - </p> - <p> - “I asks to be excused,” he said, “but that—” he gulped. “Seeing that - I can’t talk about it before a lady and be polite, I asks to be excused - again and I’ll be going.” - </p> - <p> - I followed him to the head of the ladder and stopped him just as he was on - the first rounds. - </p> - <p> - “What happened?” - </p> - <p> - “We’re keeping up a little steam for the derrick windlass and the pumps, - and that gimlet-eyed, snub-nosed hellion got into the bunkers when I was - on deck, and turned on my wet-down hose, and shifted twenty tons of dust - coal out to where it’s all got to be shoveled back. I’m going down to - write out notices for a funeral and, by Jabez! I’ll guarantee to have the - corpse ready!” - </p> - <p> - “Shifted twenty tons of coal!” said I, surprised. “It must have taken him - some time.” - </p> - <p> - “I guess you don’t know what can be done in fine coal with a stream of - water when you bore it in,” snapped the fireman. “That wire-tailed - gabumpus wasn’t in there five minutes. He has laid in wait and watched me - sprinkle coal. He turned her on full bent and bored. I’ll get him, and - I’ll get him good!” His smudged face went out of sight down the ladder. - </p> - <p> - There are some ideas in this life which steal up on a man and whisper to - him, and keep whispering for a long time, until at last he overhears—and - then he plans and toils, and in the end an invention results. - </p> - <p> - Then there are other ideas which march up to a man and hit him on the - head. - </p> - <p> - Twenty tons of coal shifted in five minutes by a monkey and a hose! The - idea that hit me was like a hammer blow. My head wasn’t clear all at once; - I was dizzy. The details were hazy—but there was the idea hammering - at me. It was such a glorious idea that I walked aft to that ensign mast, - looked up, and took off my hat to that monkey. I know he misunderstood my - act. I know he cursed me as another enemy. But I did not care. I had got - used to being misunderstood and underrated aboard the <i>Zizania</i>. - </p> - <p> - I turned around and found the girl looking at me with wide-open eyes. - “This isn’t insanity,” I told her. “It doesn’t run in the Sidney family. - But an idea has just come to me out of a monkey’s prank, and it’s such a - wonderful idea that I don’t dare to talk about it until I have thought it - over. I guess you’ll have to excuse me, Miss Kama; I’ve got to go into my - state-room and pound at that idea while it is hot.” - </p> - <p> - I did not sleep much that night. I was wrestling with a notion as the old - chap in the Bible wrestled with the angel. And when morning came I was - positive that an angel of a notion had come to me. I told Captain Holstrom - at breakfast that I was not going down that day. But when he turned a - doleful look at me I grinned so amiably that he snapped his eyes, - thinking, perhaps, that he was not seeing just straight. - </p> - <p> - “I’ll have something to tell you later, Captain. It’ll sound better to you - when I have made certain that we have got stuff aboard here to work out an - idea.” - </p> - <p> - That became my business after breakfast—to hunt the <i>Zizania</i> - over for certain material. I invited Captain Holstrom along with me, and - took two men for helpers. - </p> - <p> - My first quest was for hose. The <i>Zizania</i> carried canvas hose for - fire purposes, stacked here and there on racks. It was not in prime - condition, for the old <i>Zizania</i> had been condemned along with her - equipment as far as Government purposes went. - </p> - <p> - We got that hose down and measured it, and found rising two hundred feet - of stuff that was serviceable. I needed three hundred feet to cover the - distance between the lighter and the wreck. I made inquiries about canvas. - The steamer had a suit of sails for her two masts, and the sails had been - unbent some time before and were stored. Before the day was over Mate - Number-two Jones had men at work cutting that canvas and sewing it into - hose of a diameter to fit the fire-hose. Of course, it was crude work, but - I was obliged to do the best I could with the materials at hand. - </p> - <p> - That evening I called a conference. Captain Holstrom, his two mates, and - Engineer Shank assembled in the wheel-house, and I explained as best I - could what my preparations meant. - </p> - <p> - Remember, please, that at the time of which I am writing hydraulic mining - had not been tried, and men in those days had no conception of what a - stream of water would accomplish in moving soil. - </p> - <p> - I told those blinking confrères that I believed I could direct a stream of - water on that sand below the sea and bore a hole down to that treasure. - The only one in the party who showed one glimmer of enthusiasm was Mr. - Shank. And even he did not get up and hurrah. He nodded his head sagely - and admitted that “stranger things had happened.” - </p> - <p> - “But you’ve got to use our steam-donkey for your stream,” growled Captain - Holstrom, “and you can’t get the <i>Zizania</i> any nearer shore than this - without wrecking her. You’re only planning on three hundred feet of hose.” - </p> - <p> - “That’s all I need, Captain. Mr. Shank can build us a plunger-pump with - brakes, and we’ll put the whole crew on to the beams, and have ’em - give an imitation of a firemen’s muster.” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Shank nodded again, and allowed that “stranger things had been done.” - </p> - <p> - “How did you happen to think of this cussed scheme, anyway?” inquired - Captain Holstrom, not trying to hide his disappointment. - </p> - <p> - I promptly decided that I would not confess that the thing had been - suggested to me by a monkey with a wire tail. I looked at the scowling - captain, and I could imagine the wealth of his language if I should tell - him any such thing. So I took all the credit to myself—and it was - not much credit I received from those solemn listeners. The most I got out - of Holstrom was the sullen statement that no matter what I did next the - situation couldn’t be any worse than it was. - </p> - <p> - The work went on the next day, and the day after, and the day after that. - It was slow business making that hose so that it would be anyway - water-tight. And the wooden force-pump took a lot of time in the building, - rude affair though it was. It had a plunger—two ends of wood on an - iron rod, and the brake-beams were long enough so that a dozen men could - get a clutch on them. - </p> - <p> - I don’t remember how much time we used up in getting our makeshift - apparatus into such shape as would warrant it being used for the trial. - </p> - <p> - I do remember this—and remember it all too well!—before we - were in readiness for the test of the hose and our pump a small schooner - came rolling up the coast and anchored well inside of us, even nearer the - wreck than our lighter from which we had been operating. - </p> - <p> - This was no customs boat. Within a few hours we abroad the <i>Zizania</i> - knew that Marcena Keedy was in command of the new arrival, and that he had - brought two divers and was full of hope and curses and brag. - </p> - <p> - Where Keedy secured his men and his craft we did not know—for social - calls were not exchanged between the two vessels. But a lot can be - accomplished in a few weeks when a man has greed to prick him, a grudge to - settle, and twenty thousand dollars to back him. - </p> - <p> - Capt. Rask Holstrom had been in the depths of despair before the arrival - of Keedy; now he found a hole leading into the subcellar of his despair, - and retreated still lower. He had no faith in my new contrivances. He - wanted me to abandon work on such folderols and go down and stand over - that treasure. He could not seem to see with my eyes. He knew that - millions in gold were at the bottom of the sea—I had recovered a - sample of it. He felt just as though it lay there unprotected, and that - the first-comer would get it. As a submarine diver who had struggled - against the difficulties of the situation, I was more serene. I didn’t - know what sort of prodigies in the diving line Keedy had secured as my - rivals, but I was not ready to admit to myself that they would succeed by - ordinary means where I had failed after exerting every ounce of effort. - </p> - <p> - Using Captain Holstrom’s long telescope, I saw them going down. They went - together. Evidently Keedy had concluded that if one diver had failed, two - ought to be twice as good, and succeed. - </p> - <p> - Captain Holstrom remained at the end of his telescope until he acquired a - permanent squint. We had hard work to get him to drop the glass long - enough to eat. Day after day, as soon as it was light in the morning, he - was in the wheel-house, balancing the glass across the window-sill, - watching Keedy’s schooner. He evidently feared and expected to see - uncounted wooden boxes of ingots come tumbling up over her rail. - </p> - <p> - My equipment had been almost ready when Keedy arrived, but now another - consideration held me back. I did not propose to let the other crowd in on - my methods if I could help it. No matter what Captain Holstrom and his - associates thought of the feasibility of the scheme, I had a lot of - confidence in it, and was not willing that a rival should know enough - about it to copy any plans. - </p> - <p> - Therefore I set my crew at work building a wall of boards about the - lighter, leaving only a door for my exit over the side. I wanted to - conceal the pumping operations. As to the divers whom I should meet at the - scene of the wreck, I trusted to other measures to conceal my system. - </p> - <p> - I was out on the lighter to superintend the building of the wall, and more - especially to oversee the setting of the force-pump and its attachments. I - did not like the looks of the sea on that last day of our work. It looked - murky and slaty as the big rollers surged under us, and I remembered that - it showed that same color on the day when my friendly undertow had helped - me. I was tempted to go down and investigate, but I had seen the men from - Keedy’s schooner go overboard, and I concluded to keep away from contact - with them until I was ready for serious operations. - </p> - <p> - Inclosed in my wall on the lighter, I was busy about my own affairs, and - did not peep to see what was happening in the neighborhood. - </p> - <p> - Captain Holstrom remained on the <i>Zizania</i>, in close companionship of - his only intimate of those days—his long telescope. But Kama - Holstrom was at my side while I worked, cheering me by her wise little - comments, her bright eyes taking all in, her quick mind grasping all the - possibilities of my scheme. - </p> - <p> - It was a rather cheerful little group there in our pen. Even Number-two - Jones was whistling in jig time, for all the apparatus was fitting - together as slick as a school-marm’s hand in a fur mitten. And then in - through the door burst a human thunderbolt in the form of Capt. Rask - Holstrom. - </p> - <p> - He was bareheaded and his gray hair was scruffed up like the bristling - mane of a mad bulldog. He was not able to manage words for about a minute, - but he wasn’t voiceless by any manner of means. He roared and leaped about - and smote his fists together. He picked up our hose and flung it about - himself like an insane snake charmer. He kicked at the wooden pump with - his stubtoed shoes until I was obliged to push him away. Then he grabbed - the hose once more, and reeled it about himself in senseless fury, for all - the world like a caterpillar weaving its cocoon. His square face was a war - map of rage, and in the center of that face his red nose gleamed like a - danger signal. - </p> - <p> - We stood and gaped at him. There wasn’t much else we could do as long as - he remained in that awful state. He paid no attention to his daughter’s - questions and appeals. - </p> - <p> - I took a peep through the cracks of the boarding to see whether the old <i>Zizania</i> - were still afloat; I had a horrified suspicion that she had sunk or - burned. She floated serenely, sweeping up and down on the crested waves. - </p> - <p> - After letting off his surplus of steam in howls, Captain Holstrom was able - to manage speech at last. - </p> - <p> - “They’ve got it!” he yelled. “They’re getting it! I’ve seen ’em - pull two boxes of it over their rail, and they’re dancing jubilee around - the deck.” He flung down the coils of hose, and stamped on it, and spat - the most vicious oaths I ever listened to. - </p> - <p> - “They’re getting it—they’ve got it—and all you’re doing here - is fooling with a damnation squirt-gun that ain’t no sense and no good—and - I told you so in the first place. Keedy was right. I ought to have stuck - to Keedy. I’ve known Keedy. He was a friend of mine till you came along - and broke us up. I had promised my girl to him. He ain’t setting around - darning second-hand canvas”—he kicked the hose—“when he ought - to be up and about, doing real business.” He rushed at me and clacked his - fists under my nose. “I’m all done with you! I’m going to Keedy and - crawfish and offer him the steamer and my equipment for a lay with him and - his men. I’ll offer him my girl. You’ll marry him if I have to hold you up - in front of the minister by the ears!” he informed her, whirling and - shaking his fists under her nose, too. “I’ve had all the silly notions and - lallygagging I propose to have, and what I say goes after this. It’s - business from now on.” - </p> - <p> - He started to plunge back through the door like a down through a hoop. A - couple of his men were holding a yawl beside the lighter. - </p> - <p> - I had used my submarine grip on Captain Holstrom once before when he was - drunk. I used it now when he was sober—and the grip held. I grabbed - him and yanked him back, slammed the door, and set myself against it. - </p> - <p> - “You can’t dissolve partnership with me in any such way,” I informed him. - “Especially not right now, just as I’ve got the world by the tail.” - </p> - <p> - “I’ll show you whether I can dissolve partnership or not,” he barked; and - he began running about the inclosure, roaring threats and peering here and - there. He was plainly hunting for a weapon of some sort in order to beat - me away from the door. - </p> - <p> - “Kama!” I called to her—the first time I had ever addressed her so - familiarly, but that was no time for niceties. “Kama, it’s no use to plead - with your father. He’s no better than a lunatic. He’s going to throw - everything into the hands of that thief of a Keedy. It mustn’t be done!” - </p> - <p> - The captain had found a dub and was coming at me. - </p> - <p> - She put herself between us. He knew better than to raise his club against - her, and he kept dodging back and forth to get past her. He paid no - attention to her protests and appeals. - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Shank—Mr. Jones,” she cried, “take that club away from my - father. He is not in his right mind.” - </p> - <p> - “It would be mutiny—mutiny and State prison,” stammered the mate. - </p> - <p> - “I’m his daughter—I’ll go into court if it ever comes to that! I - order you to do it!” - </p> - <p> - “Keep the others off, and I’ll do it,” I said in her ear, and I rushed - past her. - </p> - <p> - Holstrom struck at me viciously, but my rush had taken him by surprise. I - caught his arm and the stick, and tore the weapon away from him. But to - down him and subdue him was a different proposition—and a very husky - job he made of it for me. - </p> - <p> - He was broad and sturdy; he was sober, and he was beside himself with - rage. The spectacle of that gold going into the hands of Keedy and his - gang had made a lunatic of him for the time being. I got no help from the - others. Men of the sea and ships, they had a wholesome tear of what would - happen to mutineers when that matter came into court. I struggled with - that old rascal until every muscle in me throbbed with the pain of - tension, and I thought the blood would burst through my face. No matter - about the details of that long fight. But at last I got him down; I rolled - him on his face. I pulled his hands together, kneeling on him, and the - girl lashed his wrists together when I appealed to her. She lashed his - legs as well, for I decided to take no chances with him while he was in - that mood. - </p> - <p> - When I got my breath I leaned over him and spoke my little piece: - </p> - <p> - “This is tough business for all of us, Captain Holstrom. I don’t know what - may come out of it. I’m prepared to take my medicine if I’ve done wrong. - But you have started in to run amuck. You ought to know what Keedy is by - this time. He has done you once. He would do you worse the next time. If - you weren’t crazy at this minute you’d realize it. I don’t propose to - stand by and see you heave your best chance over the rail in any such - fashion. I demand twenty-four hours to make good on my scheme. Twenty-four - hours—that’s all. I know how those men got that gold. I got mine in - the same way. But they won’t get any more; I know conditions down there; - I’ve been all through it. You listen to me, I say! I’m going to take - twenty-four hours—and if I’ve got to keep you tied up while I - operate, then it’s tied up you stay. I’ll take all the responsibility of - this mutiny, men,” I told the crowd on the lighter. “I’m a partner in this - expedition with a signed contract. Twenty-four hours from now I’ll hold - out my hands and let you tie me up if I haven’t made good.” - </p> - <p> - That was pretty bold talk, and I’ll confess that I did not know just where - I was going to get off. But to let Captain Holstrom run away to that rogue - of a Keedy just when I was on the eve of my experiment—to allow - Holstrom to hand over everything to that he-devil—was too - intolerable. - </p> - <p> - “We’ll take the captain back to the steamer,” I told the men. “I’m - assuming all responsibility.” - </p> - <p> - “I’ll share it with you,” said the girl, stoutly. - </p> - <p> - Captain Holstrom seemed to have lost his voice. He stared at us and gasped - like a fish newly heaved on deck. He was silent while we carried him to - his state-room on the steamer. We left him tied up well and his daughter - was his caretaker and jailer by her own choice. She was showing the grit - of a young catamount in that emergency. - </p> - <p> - All of it was about as bad as it could be. But it was going to be worse. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0034" id="link2H_4_0034"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - XXXIII—THE HEART OF THE MILLIONS - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span> WAS about at - daybreak next morning. The man who predicted the first eclipse of the sun - and was waiting for it had nothing on me in the way of a case of nerves. I - kept away from the captain’s state-room. I had plenty on my mind without - loading up with any more trouble. - </p> - <p> - The first thing I saw when I came on deck was a little schooner which was - lying-to a few cable-lengths from us. She looked familiar. A boat was slid - over her rail. Through the telescope I saw two men in uniform take seats - in the stem-sheets. They were those customs chaps who had visited us - before and they rowed past us toward Keedy’s schooner. I turned the - telescope and saw that somebody in Keedy’s crowd was wigwagging a flag - furiously. - </p> - <p> - I saw something else through the glass. Keedy’s divers were going down and - I could imagine with what kind of tongue-lashing he had been urging them - to “follow their hand.” - </p> - <p> - For an instant I had a wild notion of calling for my boat crew and beating - them to it. Then I looked out over that quieter sea, and felt sure that - the freakish undertow had gone off to play elsewhere. - </p> - <p> - “Let ’em go down and learn a thing or two,” I said to Romeo Shank, - “and then come up and tell Keedy that the Pacific Ocean is something, of a - gambler itself when it comes to ‘following your hand.’” - </p> - <p> - I knew well enough that I’d better stick around pretty close aboard the - old <i>Zizania</i>, for I was sure we would be receiving a call from the - customs men. They would find our treasury bare, and they would find the - captain of the expedition trussed up in his state-room. They would - probably come with another “hot rock” which had been dropped in their hat - by the prospering Keedy. - </p> - <p> - Yes, there was only one station for me that morning! - </p> - <p> - The visitors arrived in less than an hour. They tried to smile when they - came over the rail, but it was a mighty sick smile. - </p> - <p> - I led them into my state-room, and did not pay any attention to their - questions about the captain. They talked broken English, and little of it, - and so there were no words wasted. In a few minutes I knew what was - wanted. We must up killick and get out. We were there without authority; - we were breaking laws; we were stealing other men’s property. - </p> - <p> - I tried to talk about Keedy and his gang. How about them? The officers - shrugged their shoulders and scowled at me. Ah, that was the Government’s - business, not mine, they told me. They were attending to that case. Had I - not seen them going over there also? Yes, all should be used alike—but - we must go or else they would report, and a gunboat would be sent to drive - us away—yes, to confiscate our ship. So! - </p> - <p> - Captain Holstrom had been right in regard to them—I found that they - were blood-suckers, looking for the juiciest proposition, and Keedy had - got next by some plan—perhaps by being a better liar. - </p> - <p> - I stared at those knaves for a few moments, and did some tall thinking - quickly. I was really getting used to quick thinking by that time. - </p> - <p> - When I jumped up and asked to be excused for a moment they smiled and - settled back on the transom. Perhaps they thought that I proposed to raise - Keedy out of the game. - </p> - <p> - I found Mate Number-two Jones on the main deck forward. - </p> - <p> - “They have called the turn on us—say that we must get off the - coast,” I told him. “Keedy has bribed them over our heads. I tell you, - Jones, I’m going to get that treasure! I’ve got to get it. This isn’t mere - brag talk. You are posted on my plans, and you believe in them.” - </p> - <p> - “The scheme does look good to me,” admitted the mate. - </p> - <p> - “If those men leave here tied up to Keedy they’ll send a gunboat and shoo - us off—and they’ve told Keedy, of course, how to dodge her. Jones, - those men have got to stay aboard the <i>Zizania</i> until I make my try - to-day. And, by the gods! I’ll bring up enough to show ’em that we - are the people. You come with me!” - </p> - <p> - “What for?” - </p> - <p> - “We’ve got to lasso those chaps and hitch ’em to the stanchion in - my state-room. They’ve got to stay here till I test out that hose.” - </p> - <p> - “Look here,” objected Mr. Jones, fumbling at his nose, “seems to me - there’s altogether too much tripping and tying aboard here. It beats a - round-up of steers. We’re going to get into a lot of trouble—we’re - in it now. You wait till the captain gets loose, and see if we ain’t!” - </p> - <p> - “Tying two more won’t make it any worse than it is. I can’t make you do - what you don’t want to do, Jones, but I believe you’re too much of a man - to let me play this thing single-handed. We’re fighting Keedy now. If I - fail in getting at that gold to-day, all we’ve got to do is to up mud-hook - and steam north—we’ll have to do the same thing if we let those - grafters go over the rail now.” Jones was a cautious man, but he was a - loyal one. I kept on urging, and at last the battle-light flickered in his - pale-blue eyes. - </p> - <p> - “Blast their thievish souls!” he said. “They’ve taken all the money I had - in my pockets—and now they’re thumbing their noses at decent men. - I’m with you!” We grabbed ropes, rushed up to my state-room, and fell on - the men before they could scramble to their feet. - </p> - <p> - They were wizened little chaps and we tied them without any trouble. - </p> - <p> - Then I went below and leaned over the rail where their boat was tossing. - </p> - <p> - “The gentlemen are staying here for some business,” I told the two rowers. - “They tell you to go back to the schooner and wait till they signal for - you with our ensign.” They didn’t look entirely satisfied, but they rowed - away after I had ordered them to fend off. - </p> - <p> - I stationed two men at my state-room door and I hunted up weapons and - armed some of the crew. I ordered them to keep off everybody until I - returned from the lighter. - </p> - <p> - I spoke to Captain Holstrom through his state-room window. I told him that - I would bring him a present before sundown. He did not reply—and - when Captain Holstrom was mad enough to keep his tongue between his teeth - I felt that only murder could express his feelings. - </p> - <p> - The door was on the hook, and a little brown hand was thrust out to meet - mine. - </p> - <p> - “Good luck, brave boy!” she whispered. “I know you’ll do it.” - </p> - <p> - “I can’t fail after that word from you,” I told her. - </p> - <p> - Then I ran down the ladder and jumped into the boat where my men were - waiting for me. - </p> - <p> - I found a heavy surge running under our lighter, but the swirl of sand was - no longer darkening the water. I had reckoned right in regard to that - undertow. Keedy’s men were still down and I could imagine them wasting - their strength on the sand which had been packed back overnight. - </p> - <p> - Our water-hose had already been coupled in makeshift fashion, and the last - work that morning was to wrap the joints as best we could. Then I set the - men at the brakes and told them to “give her tar,” as the old-fashioned - hand-tub foreman would say. The hose was strung about the deck of the - lighter. - </p> - <p> - After they pumped for five minutes I found that the hose was not so tight - as I had hoped. Wheezing little streams punctured it here and there, and - the joints leaked. From the end of our home-made nozzle of sheet iron the - stream barely trickled. I was disgusted—but I was not wholly - discouraged. When I state this you may see how desperate I had become. I - was resolved to fight that thing through to the last ditch. I was - determined to take that hose down and try it out. I had the misty and - hopeful notion that the pressure of the sea on it might make some - difference, that the wet hose might retain the water better, that after - the plunger had swelled a bit we might get more force. - </p> - <p> - All those straws and others did I grab at by way of bracing my courage. - </p> - <p> - The captain of the expedition trussed up in his cabin like a steer calf—only - waiting his opportunity to deal with me! - </p> - <p> - Two customs men also trussed up—also waiting to deal with me! - </p> - <p> - It can be readily understood that there were some decidedly red-hot goads - at my back that day to drive me down under the sea. - </p> - <p> - I had not been able to convince Captain Holstrom that all my work and - struggles and investigation and failures up to then were a good - investment. But as a submarine diver I knew that they had been. I had been - spending my nights on a sleepless pillow, docketing those experiences and - drawing lessons from them—plotting, pondering, and planning. - </p> - <p> - When I went down I was ready for my job in so far as a man, by pounding - his brain, can be ready for all emergencies. - </p> - <p> - I had piled the lead on to myself. Around my body from hips to armpits I - had a canvas belt with five pockets, each pocket holding twenty-five - pounds of shot, part of the junk of the old <i>Zizania</i>. Around each - leg above the ankle I fastened another bag of shot holding fifteen pounds. - </p> - <p> - My helmet had weights weighing thirty pounds. In addition I wore my - regular breast and back weights. That is to say, when I was rolled over - the side of that lighter I, a one-hundred-and-eighty-pound man, was - weighted with about two hundred and fifty pounds of metal. - </p> - <p> - I went with bare feet and bare hands. I knew that if I ever did succeed in - boring that sand, holding that hose in my hands, my feet would have to - serve as hands for the purpose of feeling out objects. - </p> - <p> - Keedy’s men had come up before I gave the word to lower me. Number-two - Jones had peered through the cracks of the boarding, and had reported that - they had come over the rail without bringing treasure, and that Keedy was - stamping up and down the deck, wagging his fists over his head. I could - imagine from my own experience what kind of language the cowardly - slave-driver was spewing out. - </p> - <p> - I found myself on the bottom under the lighter, and started to make my way - toward the wreck. I was loaded like a pack-donkey, outside of the - tremendous extra weight of lead I carried. But I was taking everything - which my judgment counseled as needful for success. - </p> - <p> - I was obliged to drag with me my life-line, my air-hose, and the heavy - canvas hose for the water. In addition to those, I towed a double line - which was hitched to a pair of ice-tongs, and the points of those tongs - were filed to a sharp point. I carried the tongs at my belt. If I found - treasure I had this method of sending it to the lighter and of dragging - back the tongs to myself. I had had one experience in serving as a carrier - and I did not want to repeat the job. - </p> - <p> - I tell you, I felt like a mighty poor and puny little ant when I started - away on the bottom of the sea, climbing those sand ridges. The sea - clutched and tore at those wriggling lines, at my air-hose, and was - especially ferocious in tackling that heavy water-hose. It seemed as if - the Pacific resented that scheme of fighting it. - </p> - <p> - It was a mighty struggle I had. I was tossed and tumbled. I was banged and - buffeted. - </p> - <p> - But in the end I arrived at the wreck. Under ordinary circumstances that - stunt alone would have finished a diver’s work for a day—but I had - left matters above the surface in such condition that I could not face - them just then. - </p> - <p> - I dropped my water-hose, and went back fifty feet along the line. Past - experience with the weight of the surges had suggested another trick with - which to fight the giant Pacific. I had brought a small anchor, and, with - this set into the sand as best I cou’d do it, I anchored my air-hose and - water-hose about fifty feet from the wreck. I proposed to let the ocean - wreak the most of its spite on the two hundred and fifty feet between that - anchor and the lighter. I figured that I might be able to handle the other - fifty feet, no matter how ugly the surges were. - </p> - <p> - I crawled back to the wreck and found my bearings. There were the “cat - scratchings” on the sand where the other divers had spent their energy - that morning. I grinned—I couldn’t help it. They had just had their - own experience with the tricks of a Pacific undertow. - </p> - <p> - Well, the great and awful moment had come for me! - </p> - <p> - In the years that have passed since then the vivid memory of that moment - has never left me. I wake up in the night even now, and the thrill of it - shakes me. - </p> - <p> - If my scheme did not work, what would become of me when I went back to the - surface of the sea? - </p> - <p> - If my scheme did work, what was I facing down there? I was proposing to - bore into that sand—to sink into it. No such plan had ever been - tried by a human being up to that time. Was I not digging my own grave? - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - * Although sticking a statement of fact into writing which - is professedly fiction may be considered supererogation by - the cynical critic, some honest reader may be grateful for a - certain bit of information. Here it is: My old and valued - friend, the diver who recovered the <i>Golden Gate</i> treasure, - still lives at a ripe age and he has detailed to me how he - devised the hydraulic apparatus out of makeshift material, - how he bored into the sand, and how he, with his own hands, - recovered the bullion. Also, the incident of his narrow - escape when the water-hose shifted was a part of his bitter - experience on the bed of the Pacific. I hasten to state - that, so far as the rest of the yam goes, my good friend, - Diver Cook, is not culpable.—H. D. -</pre> - <p> - I sat down on the sand, Turk fashion, like a tailor on his table, pointed - the nozzle down, holding it against the sand, and gave the agreed-upon - signal for water. It took a long time in coming, and it was an agony of - waiting. Then at last I felt the hose swell under my arm. I pressed the - nozzle harder against the sand. I cannot describe my delight. I felt that - my dreams were coming true, for when I jammed the nozzle down I found that - the sand was moving. That stream had merely trickled above the surface, - but now a pressure was created when I held the nozzle hard against the - bottom of the sea. Yes, the sand moved under me. It began to boil up - around me. It swept and swirled in yellow clouds. I realized that I was - boring a hole about as big as a barrel, and into that hole I was gradually - sinking. I was on my way! I did not know where I was going—but, - bless the good Lord, I was on my way! The sand in that boiling water made - all dark. Down and down I went slowly, my bare feet searching eagerly. - </p> - <p> - But though I descended more rapidly as the swirling motion increased, I - felt no boxes. Had I, then, happened upon a straggler among the boxes of - gold on my earlier trip? Had my rivals also found two more stragglers from - the main treasure—loosened boxes which had been forced out of the - chamber by the impact of the wreck on the bar or had worked near the - surface of the sand by the action of a sucking undertow? If that were - true, it meant that Keedy’s men were dumped if they stuck to shovels. - Provided I could reach the treasure, and could keep my own system a - secret, I was headed toward a glorious victory, and could depend upon the - ocean to keep off others—but was I headed toward victory? My feet - touched nothing that had square corners. And yet, to the best of my - judgment, I had already gone down at least ten feet in that hole in the - sand. - </p> - <p> - Down and down—five feet more, so I reckoned. Then my heart gave a - jump. My feet had touched something. It was smooth and hard and flat, and - spread under me horizontally. But I soon discovered that it had too large - a surface to be a box of ingots. I could not bend over to feel it with my - hands, for the rush of the whirlpool of sand and water about me, sweeping - upward, would not allow me to force my helmet and the upper part of my - body down. I must depend on my bare feet to tell me what I had struck. - </p> - <p> - After a time I knew. It was boiler plate. I could feel the round heads of - bolts. Whether this plate formed a part of the treasure-chamber or not I - did not know. But it was an obstacle which must be passed. I turned my - nozzle in front of me to clear the way. I wanted to reach the end of that - iron plate. - </p> - <p> - In two ticks of an eight-day clock I was in a mess that has been my - nightmare ever since. I began to get a thorough education in what sand - will do under water when it is submitted to the force of a stream from a - hose. The instant I turned that nozzle in front of me the sand rushed in - from behind. I was grabbed as tightly as though the eight feelers of a - devil-fish had encircled me. - </p> - <p> - It must be remembered that this whole proposition was an experiment so far - as I was concerned. I did not know then how quickly a stream of water can - affect great quantities of sand under the sea, let that sand get in - motion. Tons can be moved almost while one takes a breath. - </p> - <p> - This shift was so sudden that I was not prepared for it. My legs were - pinioned, and my arms seemed to be clutched at the elbows. The sand was - packing in around me from behind. I was so scared that my hands loosened - on the nozzle. A roller snatched the hose from my grasp. - </p> - <p> - The nozzle was upended and began to sizzle away over my head. It kept the - sand moving there, and the murky water still swirled about my helmet, and - the pack was not allowed to settle on my head. But as to the rest of my - body, it was as if I had been immersed in molten metal and it had cooled - around me. In a few seconds I was immovable. I was buried completely in - sand, except for my wrists and hands. In clutching for the hose, as it had - been yanked away, I had raised my hands above my head, and they were now - waving in the swirl of the whirlpool. I groped and stretched and strove, - and at last I felt the tips of my fingers on the nozzle. I managed, after - a while, to tilt it down a bit so that the stream played along my arms to - the elbows. The temporary release of my forearms did not help me. I - couldn’t get hold of that hose so as to turn the nozzle full upon myself. - The sand kept packing more closely about my legs and body. - </p> - <p> - After a time my aching hands and arms were obliged to give up the fight. I - had become so weakened by my struggles and strainings that I was faint—I - was as feeble as a baby. - </p> - <p> - I have read about men in awful peril who have resigned themselves to die. - Mentally I was not resigned when I first gave up struggling—not for - some time. I came out of that first faintness, wide awake to my danger, - filled with frightful fear, mad with the longing to live. But my case - seemed hopeless. The stream was keeping the sand in motion still about my - helmet and over my head, but my hands informed me that the pack was - gradually settling, that the sand was piling up around my neck slowly but - surely. In the boil of that water the particles were drifting over me. - </p> - <p> - I might live minutes, I reflected—I might linger there for an hour - or more—feeling that sand pack around my head until it choked the - valve of the helmet or pinched off the current in the air-hose. - </p> - <p> - Never was I so hungry for life as when I stood there pinioned hand and - foot in the Pacific’s bed, feeling the sand piling up against the glass of - my helmet, sifting around me to chink the little cranny where the air - bubbled from the valve. And all because a stream of water would not swerve - ten inches and pour itself in my direction. - </p> - <p> - Then something surprising happened to my soul in its agony. I’m telling - the truth. - </p> - <p> - When I had made up my mind that effort was useless, that I had done all - that I could do, and that death was certain, a strange feeling came to me - and took away my fear of death. I fell into a quiet and really exalted - frame of mind. I floated in dreams. Cares of earth and worries of the - world, lust for gold, and even the love of woman seemed very small - matters. What did it all matter? I was dying. Peace came to me. - </p> - <p> - Is it not probable that kind nature or a kinder God thus smooths the way - into eternity when the great moment comes? Men who have been nigh the last - gasp have swapped stories with me and we all agree. - </p> - <p> - I had no notion of the length of time I had been down. In my mistiness of - mind I did not bother about time. In the case of a submarine diver, the - hours are marked off by his sensations, and he knows when he has stayed - down long enough. If my men had told me that I had been on the bed of the - ocean for a day and a night I should not have disputed them. I must have - been near death, for it is said that when one is dying all of life that - has been lived comes before the mind and passes in review, as though the - mortal soul were preparing its brief for the use of the recording angel. I - remember that this last was a strange idea which came to me there in the - sand-pack which was slowly heaping itself over my head. - </p> - <p> - Then something happened. It was something which should have amazed me, but - I reckon that my brain was too numbed to feel amazement. - </p> - <p> - The nozzle above my head gave a sudden yank and rapped my knuckles. It - righted itself. That is to say, it aimed downward and began to pour water - directly at and over me. I felt the stream rather than saw it. I could not - see in that smother of sand. But my arms came out of the mold in which - they had been pinned. I grabbed and groped for that hose with all the - desperation that was in me. I held to it with all my strength. It was - lucky that I seized it as I did, for I felt the rollers tugging at it once - more as though some devil of the sea had given me one more chance in order - to tantalize me, and was now resolved to finish me finally. - </p> - <p> - I did not know what had happened above to cause the sudden deflection of - the stream. It was enough for me to know that some freak of the waters had - turned the hose. I found out later what had occurred, and I may as well - explain at this point, lest you think I have told merely of a case of - story-book Providence. - </p> - <p> - I have related how I anchored my lines fifty feet from the wreck. That - anchor, so I found later, had been pulled out of the sand, and the surges - had bellied the water-hose in toward shore, over my head, and the aim of - the nozzle had been changed in the snap of a finger. It surely had been - touch and go with me, for once the surge had taken up the slack the next - wave must have jerked the hose out of my hole. I had grabbed just in time; - I had melted my sand mold and was free. - </p> - <p> - Common sense advised me to quit the job forever. The uncertainties of - trying to move sand with a stream of water had been impressed upon me in - horrible fashion. But common sense is not allowed to rule a man when he is - after gold in this world. I had found out what that stream would - accomplish if it was used properly. I had learned one lesson which I could - not forget, and I was sure I would not make the mistake of letting the - sand catch me from behind again. I knew, on the other hand, what would - happen to me when I appeared above the surface without my ransom fee of - yellow gold. I preferred to stay and fight sand instead of men. There, in - the boil of the roiled water, I resolved to stay down. - </p> - <p> - I tried another experiment with the hose, and was-, vastly encouraged. I - had been worrying and wondering how I would get back out of the hole, for - I feared that the-life-line, playing over the edge of the sand, would not - allow the men on the lighter enough direct pull; to help me much. Now I - needed to rise from the hole for a littleway in order to attack the sand - at another angle so as to pass that plate of boiler iron. - </p> - <p> - I slackened the force of the stream from the nozzle with my palm, and the - sand began to pack in below me. The uprush of the swirling water helped me - and I was able to work myself slowly upward. Then I began to. bore again. - </p> - <p> - I realized now that something must have happened to, my anchor, because - the rollers were giving me battle for-the possession of that water-hose in - fierce style. But I hung on, and found myself sinking into the sand. I - went, down more rapidly, for I had already softened the surrounding pack. - After the awful experience I had just had, I was more of a lunatic than - sane while I made that, second attempt. My brain swirled as dizzily as the - water which swept up from the hole. As nearly as I could estimate, I went - down at least five yards before I struck anything that was solid. And when - my feet, already sore from the grinding of that sand, felt what was below - them, the whole of my being gave three cheers—not cheers with, the - mouth, but those silent cheers with which a man’s soul yells its joy. I - had touched a box. There were its comers—there was its unmistakable - shape. - </p> - <p> - After wild struggles and contortions, I was able to set the points of the - ice-tongs into its sides. I gave the signal on the drag-rope, and I could - feel the surge of the men on the line. But the angle of the rope over the - edge of the hole would not allow them to lift very hard. The box was too - far away from the lighter for their efforts to amount to much. But as they - swayed away I kept the hose playing upon the box and under it. It did seem - damnably slow work. But it came up, inch by inch, slowly and surely, until - I was out of the hole, and standing about knee-deep in the sand. I had a - tug of war of it then! - </p> - <p> - The box was not out of the hole. The rollers tugged at my lines and - wrenched at me. Once or twice I was fairly floored. I would fall with my - legs pinioned fast, and would lie exhausted until I could get strength to - stand up and wash myself free with the hose. In order to get back out of - that hole at all, I was obliged to slacken the stream and let the sand - pack in under myself and the box—and when the stream slackened I was - obliged to drag my legs out of the packing sand. - </p> - <p> - But I was free at last, bless the good Lord! And I had a box of gold. It - was not a mere stray box, salvaged with the help of a freakish undertow. - It was a box which I had torn from the heart of the hoard below. Yes, I - was sure that I had been to the heart of the treasure. And where I had - been the Pacific was already stuffing back the sand, locking the door once - more on the gold it had taken for its own. Let Keedy’s men come down! Let - them waste their strength. I had the key to that situation—and I - alone. - </p> - <p> - I tugged a signal to shut off the water. And as promptly I gave them - pull-up signals on my life-line and on the drag-cord of the tongs. I - wanted to get above the sea and breathe the fresh air of the good God, and - look into the eye of the blessed sun, and give praises. And, oh, the awful - weariness in every bone and muscle of me! I lay down and let ’em - pull me back. I had no strength with which to manage that weight of metal - which loaded me down. - </p> - <p> - When they got me upon the deck of the lighter, and had twisted off my - helmet, I lay for a long time without words. I motioned to Number-two - Jones to remove the cover from the box I had brought. The sight of those - ingots gave me the goad once more—ah, it takes gold to make the - human soul gallop!= - </p> - <p> - `````"Gold, gold, yellow gold, - </p> - <p> - `````Hard to get and harder to hold.” - </p> - <p> - This quotation burst from Mr. Shank. His round face was radiant, and he - came and leaned over me and patted me on the head. He did not seem to have - any better way of showing his joy. It was a wildly excited crew which - crowded around me; they were still more excited when I sat up on deck at - last and told them I was going down again. The fever was in me. I wanted - to go back to the <i>Zizania</i> with gold enough, to convince Captain - Holstrom and those knaves of customs men that there was no fluke about our - proposition. I wanted to raise that infernal Keedy out of this game for - good and all. - </p> - <p> - It was mighty tempestuous water in the vicinity of the wreck, and putting - the lighter nearer was not to be thought of. But I discussed with Mate - Jones the possibility of dropping our yawl back toward the wreck at the - end of a cable, so that the men could lift the treasure-boxes more - directly. We had brought extra men that morning for the pump, and a crew - for the surf-boat volunteered. The gold lust was seizing the whole of us. - </p> - <p> - I went down again, feeling sure that the wicked labor of getting the box - up through the sand would be lightened for me. - </p> - <p> - I took another anchor, and on my way to the wreck I refastened my hose - lines to the bottom, rigging the second anchor as a bridle, so that the - strain would be eased on the one which I had set into the sand. - </p> - <p> - Down I bored again, my tongs at my belt, my hose in my clutch. And I - stayed down until I had sent three more boxes up to the surf-boat. While I - was toiling down there I knew that I was setting a dangerous record for - myself—I could not hope to equal it on the days which were to - follow. It was plain that I had penetrated to the heart of the treasure, - but I had penetrated to other things as well. I found all the sculch and - broken crockery of the wrecked pantry and the bar of the <i>Golden Gate</i>. - Yes, I sent three more boxes to the lighter; but when I crawled over the - rail later my hands and feet were bleeding, and the sand had ground into - the wounds. Already my skin showed where the grinding of the boiling sand - was wearing the epidermis. Even the rubber of my suit was showing wear. - </p> - <p> - I was a sorry-looking object when I staggered into Capt. Rask Holstrom’s - state-room. He fairly slavered in his rage and tried to leap at me. I - reckon I did look like a beaten man. But the next instant my men came - tramping in with the boxes of gold. There were four of these glorious - boxes, and each one was open and showed the ingots. - </p> - <p> - “Your friend Keedy got his two boxes by the fluke of an undertow,” I told - him. “I have got mine by science and a system which will give us the rest - of it. Now, Captain Holstrom, I’ll accept your apologies.” And I cut him - loose. - </p> - <p> - I did not mention any apologies due from me to him. I wanted to rub it - into the old squarehead so thoroughly that he would never get the smart of - it out of his skin. I wanted to let him know that I had set a ring into - his nose, and that if he ever tried to run amuck again I was the man who - could catch him and trip him. - </p> - <p> - He gave me one look, gasped one gasp, and I knew that Capt. Rask Holstrom - had abdicated his throne. I was boss. But I had no time to listen to his - slobbering thanks just then. I took one of those bars of gold in my bloody - hand and started for my state-room. I shook the ingot under the noses of - those customs men. And they, too, knew that I was boss when I got through - with them. I had not come back that day from hell and the bottom of the - sea to mince words with any loafers—Captain Holstrom included. - </p> - <p> - “Here’s gold worth four thousand dollars in good Yankee money, you - low-down renegades. You take it and get off this steamer. If you are good, - and come around here like gentlemen about a month from now, perhaps I’ll - drop another rock into your hat. I don’t promise—it all depends on - how you act. But if you come back too quick—if you try to squeeze us - for more rake-off—I’ll go down to headquarters and buy your blessed - Government, and have you put into prison or shot—for before this - thing is ended here I’ll have more than three million dollars behind me. - Now you can either make a dollar quietly or you can make trouble. Suit - yourselves.” - </p> - <p> - I cut their ropes and pushed them out of the room and ordered our ensign - set to signal their boat. - </p> - <p> - I didn’t have to offer them any apologies, either, and I was not in an - apologizing mood that day. They did the apologizing while they were - waiting for their boat, and I scowled while they were begging me to - forgive the mistake they had made. - </p> - <p> - Yes, I felt pretty much like the boss of the outfit. But when Kama - Holstrom came with hot water and a basin and bandages and ordered me into - my state-room, I went as meekly as a slave who trembles when the finger of - his master is pointed. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0035" id="link2H_4_0035"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - XXXIV—AMONG THIEVES - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span> DID not go down - next day, and I watched the descent of Keedy’s divers with indifference - that was pretty nigh serene. Captain Holstrom stamped around restlessly, - for he couldn’t seem to get it into his mind that the Pacific Ocean was on - guard. But he did not venture to make any suggestions to me, and I decided - that I had trained him in pretty fair shape. - </p> - <p> - I had good reason for delaying my next descent. It would not do to take - chances with my diving-dress, which was showing signs of being frayed by - the swirling sand, and I put in a busy day with the two Joneses, stitching - an extra canvas suit to wear over the rubber dress. I improved on the - ice-tongs by having a set of steel spring hooks made so that by means of - long handles I could push them over a box without stooping and fumbling. - Also I had a long rod of steel turned out for me, and with this I could - probe the sand for boxes. - </p> - <p> - I had no way of knowing whether Keedy or his divers suspected that I had - secured any treasure. I knew that after a night of action of the sea there - would be few traces left where I had disturbed the sand. But I also knew - that Keedy would certainly be wondering why we had built the wall around - the lighter, and therefore we doubled the guards who had spent the night - there since we had installed the pump, and gave the men orders to shoot - any man who tried to climb on board. - </p> - <p> - We started work on a bigger and more elaborate pump, having tested out the - principle of the thing by means of the first one. I needed more stream. - While Shank was building this I went to work again, using the old - equipment. - </p> - <p> - I waited each day until the other divers had been down and had climbed - back into the sunlight, empty-handed. Then I slid overboard from our - lighter as secretly as possible, and did my day’s work. I averaged three - boxes a. trip by working myself to the limit of my endurance. It was - reported to me that Keedy climbed into the rigging of the schooner - whenever the surf-boat was eased back toward the wreck, and that he - remained there on watch. How much he saw we did not know, but the men in - the boat crowded together whenever a box was raised. From what I learned - afterward, I found that Keedy thought we were operating some kind of a - dredge, and that his divers reported to him that we were not making any - impression on the sand. So he sat calmly in the rigging, spying on what he - could see, and reckoning that we were wasting our time the same as his - crew. - </p> - <p> - Before the end of a week the new pump was finished and I had almost five - hundred gallons a minute at my command. - </p> - <p> - I do not mean to be profane, but I must state that when I got that new - stream to operating it was hell for me down below—and no other - phrase seems to express the case. - </p> - <p> - I have already mentioned the refuse of that wrecked pantry and bar; from - out of the holes I bored rushed up bits of broken bottles and crockery, - slashing at my bare feet and hands. I could not protect them. - </p> - <p> - The stream from the nozzle—a three-inch stream—stirred such a - mush of sand that I worked in pitch darkness. I had to have bare feet and - hands in order to feel my way. - </p> - <p> - After a time, my feet were swollen to twice their natural size. - Finger-nails and toe-nails had been worn off by the grinding of the sand, - and the skin had been eaten off. The sand even penetrated my dress, and my - knees and shoulders were chafed raw. My back, under the dragging weights I - was forced to wear, was about like a piece of pounded steak. I was - suffering the limit of human agony, but I was mad for success—I was - crazed by the gold lust. I was bringing out a small fortune every day; one - day I recovered six boxes—one hundred and twenty thousand dollars! - But I was still just as hungry for the gold that remained at the bottom. I - set my teeth, gasped back my groans, and kept at work. - </p> - <p> - All the tender ministrations of Kama Holstrom could not mend my hurts, and - I would not listen to her appeals to me. She begged me to give up the - fight. She urged that we had enough. But I was as crazy as the wildest man - who ever hunted gold, and the pain I was in made me more of a lunatic. On - several occasions I was pulled back to the lighter in a dead faint, and - fought with Number-two Jones because he would not send me down again that - day. - </p> - <p> - I cannot go into the details of those days of nightmare. I can only say - that I kept on. - </p> - <p> - We soon had plain hints that Keedy was getting suspicious and uneasy. One - night a crew from the schooner made a desperate attempt to board the - lighter. On other nights they made other tries, and shots were exchanged - before they were driven off. - </p> - <p> - One day when I was at the bottom of the hole I had bored and had just - succeeded in fastening my hooks to a box, I got a shock that made me - believe the end of the world had come. Something hit me on the top of the - helmet with a thud that knocked me senseless for a moment. I reached out - quickly with one hand, reserving the other for my hose, and felt the - breastplate of a diver. I realized what had happened then. One of Keedy’s - men, sent to spy, had stumbled through the sand swirling from my pit, and - had fallen in on me, not dreaming that I had been able to dig a - fifteen-foot hole. - </p> - <p> - In the tangle that followed, it was a wonder that either of us escaped. - </p> - <p> - By the way the man struggled I knew that he was terrified out of his - senses. He clung to me desperately, as a drowning man might ding to a - rescuer. Then he gave his emergency pull, and yanked me with him when he - went up. - </p> - <p> - I had a raw temper which went with my raw surface in those terrible days. - I left hose and box and went up with the caller, dragging my knife from my - belt. I kept clashing the knife against the front bull’s-eye of his - helmet, and after we had been dragged together for some distance from the - edge of the hole, and the sea became clearer, he perceived what I was - doing. He let go his clutch, and it was well he did, for I was in a state - of maniacal fury. I would have ripped his dress from crotch to neck-band - with my knife if he had not escaped from me just as he did. I went back - and recovered my hose, and after a time got the box. Then I returned to - the lighter, for I was too unnerved to work any longer that day. - </p> - <p> - As I lay on deck that afternoon, a shapeless, hideous thing of bruised and - macerated flesh, I wondered whether I would be able to work any more. - </p> - <p> - When I was under the sea I was fairly beside myself with the excitement of - the hunt. I could grind my teeth together and groan and fight my way - through the sand, for there was gold at the bottom of the hole I was - digging. And every time I went down through that fifteen feet of smother I - knew that death raced me to the box of treasure and back. Under those - circumstances, a man is desperate enough to forget his bloody cuts and raw - skin. But I felt like a pretty weak and useless tool as I lay there on - deck. - </p> - <p> - Kama Holstrom was with me. She had insisted on becoming my nurse. I craved - her companionship, I’ll admit, but I wanted to hide myself from her eyes. - Her father was in his state-room, busy at his job of adding more sheets of - iron, more bands of steel, to the treasure-chest he had taken it upon - himself to build. We could hear the bang of his hammer. Captain Holstrom - worked days at that huge chest, slept on it nights with the key lashed - into the palm of his right hand, and between whiles cuddled those ingots - rapturously. In his way, he had become as insane over the matter as I was - myself. - </p> - <p> - The girl and I were in the lee of the deck-house, to get out of the - trades, and we did not see the boat when it came off Keedy’s schooner. Had - I seen it coming, Keedy would never have been allowed to board us. But all - at once he appeared before the girl and myself. I felt a fierce impulse to - get up and beat his face off him, even though my hands were as sore as the - exposed nerve of an aching tooth. He got that flash from my eyes, and - looked meek for a moment, but then he saw the condition I was in and - became insolent. - </p> - <p> - “Better listen to me,” he said. “I’m on. I know your system. But I should - say you’re all in, Sidney. You need help. There’s enough there for all of - us. I’ve got two good divers. I’m over here to propose that we call the - row off, and I’ll send my men down to work with your contrivance and give - you a rest.” - </p> - <p> - That proposition from Marcena Keedy, after what he had done to us in the - matter of that twenty thousand dollars, and after what he had tried to do - to us in the affair of the customs men! I felt the language begin to roil - in me as the said roiled under the force of my stream from the nozzle. - </p> - <p> - “Miss Kama,” I pleaded, “won’t you please run away? I want to talk to this - dirty dog. And send your father here with a club.” - </p> - <p> - She did not leave me. She came closer, and gave Keedy a look which would - have wilted any other sort of man. - </p> - <p> - “You can’t afford to be foolish over what’s past and gone,” insisted my - ex-partner. “I left because you wasn’t making good—wasn’t holding up - our end of the partnership. You fell down. Now if you can deliver goods - we’ll call off all trouble and start it over again.” - </p> - <p> - “Captain Holstrom,” I yelled, “come here quick! Bring your hammer! Hurry! - Knock that devil overboard!” I shouted when the captain tore around the - corner on the gallop. His eyes were bulged out, and he had his hammer over - his head, for I guess he thought from the tone of my voice that pirates - had boarded us. His expression did not soften any when he laid eyes on - Keedy. - </p> - <p> - The gambler put up a lean forefinger. “You’d better hark to what I say, - friend Rask.” He went over the same talk he had had with me. - </p> - <p> - “Not by a continental tin damsite!” howled the captain. “And how you have - got the gall even to look the way of the <i>Zizania</i>, much more come - aboard of her, is what gives me a callous over the collar-button. Get - off’m here!” - </p> - <p> - “You don’t dare to drive me, Holstrom, after I’ve come to you with a fair - and open proposition—ready to take the first step and let bygones - rest. You can’t afford any big talk! Why, you’re only stealing this gold, - whatever of it you are getting! This is pirate business—the whole of - it. Now you be careful how you try to raise me out of the game.” - </p> - <p> - That taunt about our rights there at San Apusa came from a rascal and a - gambler, but the taunt made me think—and it stung, too. To tell the - truth, I had done a little thinking about our rights in the matter of that - treasure. - </p> - <p> - “You’re infernal thieves, and you can’t make yourselves out anything - else!” Keedy insisted. “And you can’t afford to throw down another thief - who is willing to come in and help.” - </p> - <p> - Captain Holstrom shot out a swift kick and missed Keedy. He made a crack - at him with the hammer, and missed again. - </p> - <p> - The Keedy person had had experience with the captain, probably, in past - times. He ran for the ladder and escaped into his boat. - </p> - <p> - “You are fools, besides being thieves,” he informed us, standing up when - he was a safe distance away, and shaking his fists. “Don’t you understand - what I can do to you?” Captain Holstrom returned the fist-shaking with too - much alacrity to be misunderstood. - </p> - <p> - “All right,” bellowed Keedy; “have it your own way, you fools! I’ll do you - so good that you’ll never know you were ever in the game.” He was so mad - that he let out a little more than he intended to, so I reckoned. “There - are men who will pay me more for what I can tell ’em than any - rake-off you can give me, anyway.” He was rowed away to his schooner. - </p> - <p> - “That means?” I suggested, swapping looks with the captain. - </p> - <p> - “I suppose it means that he is going to blow this thing to the - underwriters.” - </p> - <p> - “Then we are stealing this gold, are we?” - </p> - <p> - Captain Holstrom fingered his red knob of a nose, and looked away from me. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t know much about law,” I went on. “I supposed you knew something - about our rights in this thing—if we have any. I tell you, it’s - going to be pretty tough, Captain, if I’ve been through all this hell only - to have all our great hopes grabbed away from us.” - </p> - <p> - “Men have to take a chance in this world, Sidney. Damn the law in a case - like this! The gold was there, and nobody was trying to get it. We had a - right to try for it.” - </p> - <p> - “But wasn’t there any legal way?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, a drunken lawyer in San Francisco told me something about power by - attorney, but it meant chasing around and getting hold of claims by - shippers, or something of the kind—and that meant blowing our plans - and letting a lot of grafters in on us. I simply cleared from the - custom-house as a trawler and came away, minding my own business.” - </p> - <p> - “And now somebody else will take the job of minding it,” I complained. I - did not have much philosophy or courage about me just then. My hands and - feet and shoulders were aching too miserably; and had all my suffering and - daring been thrown away? - </p> - <p> - “Let’s go home, father,” pleaded the girl. - </p> - <p> - “Go home!” he yelped. “Sail in past the Golden Gate with this gold? Lug it - back where coyote lawyers can get their whack at it until they’ve trimmed - us for every ounce? Well, I guess—not!” - </p> - <p> - I wondered if he proposed to sail around in the middle of the Pacific - Ocean, cuddling those ingots for amusement, the rest of his life; but I - had neither strength nor taste for any more complaint or argument at that - time. It was a mighty dismal outlook, according to my way of thinking. I - saw that I was tied up with a man whose sole notion was to get the gold - without bothering his head about how he was going to keep it. Later, - Keedy’s schooner frothed out past us, standing to sea, and headed north. - </p> - <p> - I did not go down again for almost a week. Courage is always a man’s best - asset, but courage in the job I had undertaken was pretty near my whole - capital. And courage had left me—I had to admit it. I had been doing - honest work with all a man’s grit and strength and will. I had wrecked my - body and wrenched my soul in effort. Yes, the work part of it was honest, - but how about the honesty of our undertaking? I had got some plain words - from Keedy—and I got no consolation from Captain Holstrom. I was - daredevil enough and plenty in those days, but I was not the sort of a - daredevil who would make a successful pirate. - </p> - <p> - I sat on deck day after day, and bore with my agonies of body and wrestled - with my soul. An idea had come to me as I had struggled with that problem - of our rights. It was a rather vague idea. Of only one point of it was I - sure—its success depended on getting as much of that gold as I could - tear out of the sand. - </p> - <p> - Thinking upon it, hoping that good would come from it, brought my courage - back to me. I was again ready to undergo tortures and to face death. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0036" id="link2H_4_0036"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - XXXV—SUBMARINE PICKPOCKETS - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span> NEW arrival off - San Apusa Bar had interested us for a couple of days. It was a husky sloop - with a leg-of-mutton mainsail—a broad-bellied craft on which a dozen - men showed themselves when it sailed past us to take up a position near - the ribs of the wreck. This sloop seemed to be of a build to ride the - surges easily, and ventured much closer inshore than we had dared to - anchor our lighter. The men did not visit us, and displayed no desire to - meddle with the secrets of the equipment on the walled-up scow. We - wondered who they were, why they were there, and left them alone. - </p> - <p> - I went down and crawfished my way over the sand windrows, but I could make - only slow work of it, for I was stiffened by my days of inaction. But that - new idea of mine went along with me for my encouragement. - </p> - <p> - I had hardly put myself in position, ready to call for my stream of water, - when I got a rousing surprise. Down through the sea came rushing a naked - man. The depths were fairly clear, for I had not begun to stir the roil - with my nozzle. His eyes were wide open and staring, and I reckon that I - peered at him through my bull’s-eye with eyes just as wide open. When he - arrived close to me he dropped a rock from each hand, his diving weights, - and grabbed me, hanging to my belt. I sat right there on the sand and - gaped at him. His mouth was shut tight—he was holding his breath. - </p> - <p> - In a short time another naked man came down like the stick of a - sky-rocket. He dropped his rocks and grabbed me, and the first man let go - and went swimming up to the surface. Then came a third man and replaced - the second. - </p> - <p> - I began to feel like a candidate for office in the receiving line. I - wanted to ask some questions about what this function meant. But for good - and obvious reasons I could not carry on a conversation, and I did not - know the deaf-and-dumb alphabet. - </p> - <p> - Along came the fourth man. I noticed that each man wore a narrow belt with - a huge knife fastened in it. And that’s all the man did wear. The sight of - the knife made me rather nervous. A man under water, straining to hold his - breath, his eyes bulging with his efforts, is a savage-looking object at - best. These men were plainly Mexicans, and they looked particularly - savage. I felt pretty sure that they were not diving down there to cheer - me in my loneliness or to ask me to run for mayor. - </p> - <p> - Then it came to me all at once who these men were. As a submarine worker, - I was interested, of course, in all sorts of jobs under the sea, and I had - read various accounts of the Mexican pearl divers. I knew that they could - descend long distances and could remain under water, many of them, for - ninety seconds. One man succeeded another, diving in rotation. I remained - there without moving, staring at them until I began to recognize faces. - They were making me return visits. I realized that they did not propose to - carve me—the first man could have done that on his first call. - Therefore I got my nerve back and decided to go to work. I signaled for - water. - </p> - <p> - It occurred to me that my new friends might find that the “fogo” I stirred - with that hose would be a little too much for them. I resisted an impulse - to bat them away from me with that nozzle, a considerable effort in - selfcontrol, for my temper was pretty short in those dreadful days. - </p> - <p> - They stuck to me bravely at first when the sand began to swirl. There was - an itching under my ribs when the sand made a pall and darkness settled on - me. I was afraid that one of my callers might become peevish and ram his - knife into me as a hint not to muddy that water. - </p> - <p> - It was not easy to hold my position and work with a man anchored to me. - But I was not bothered for long. - </p> - <p> - The tug at my belt ceased suddenly, and I knew that they had given up. - They could not find me in that smother. - </p> - <p> - They resumed operations again when I got up my first box. In working my - way out of the hole I decreased the flow from the hose, and when I reached - the top of the sand the swirling particles were settling and were being - washed farther inshore by the surges. In a clearer sea down came those - devils once more, and fastened to me, one by one, like leeches. They tried - to clutch the box, but it was too heavy for them. It was hoisted past them - up to the surf-boat, and once more I drove the nozzle into the sand and - forced them off me with a whirlpool of mush. - </p> - <p> - They were more bothersome the next time I allowed the sea to clear. Two - dove at a time, and grabbed me, and almost lifted me up with them. I was - furious, but I did not try to beat them off. I kept on about my own - affairs as best I could, and allowed them to hang on to me. There were a - dozen of them above, with knives, and I had no hankering to tackle the - pack. I was not sure as to their motives, anyway. One rip of a knife would - have put me out of business. But they did not offer to use knives. - </p> - <p> - I did a short day’s work and went back to the lighter. Captain Holstrom - had watched their diving operations and was full of eager questions. - </p> - <p> - That night we doubled the guards on the <i>Zizania</i>. But no boat came - near us. - </p> - <p> - My friends were ready for me next day, and resumed the same tactics. I - carried a bigger knife, and kept my eye out as best I could. But before I - got the stream started they were coming at me three at a time. They kept - lifting me off bottom, and I wasted a lot of valuable time and much of my - little stock of strength before I got down on the sand and began to bore. - They were ready for me again as soon as I got up with a box and the sea - had cleared a bit. One of them brought a rope, and tried to get it around - a box I was handling, but I had my tongs well set, and my men hoisted the - treasure away from them. Then they began to interfere with me so savagely - that I quit in disgust and signaled to be pulled up. - </p> - <p> - I was half crazy with rage, and frantic because this sort of business was - putting me where I could not realize on that idea which I was nursing. - </p> - <p> - After listening to me, Captain Holstrom set his cap well down over his - ears, jutting his chin, set his teeth, and called for his boat. He was - rowed over to the side of the little sloop. He came back very soon and he - was not looking pleased. - </p> - <p> - “I couldn’t get anything out of that bunch except a few grunts and a lot - of jabber,” he reported. “They make believe they can’t understand the - English language. They want graft, I suppose. They’d understand, all - right, if I was to carry over a slug of gold and dump it over the rail. - But I’m about tired of feeding gold to everybody who comes along here.” - </p> - <p> - “This isn’t our gold to give away to all comers,” I told him. He blinked - at me, and did not seem to understand. I did not go into that side of the - question any further, for I was not ready for much argument at that time. - “I’ll not stand for any more ‘hot rocks,’” I told him. - </p> - <p> - “Nor I, either,” he agreed. “Begin to feed gold to those chaps, and - they’ll think we are scared of ’em and they’ll want the whole - mess.” - </p> - <p> - To show them that I was not scared, I went down the next day, and I had a - wire edge on my temper. I balked at starting a knife duel, however, and - after a struggle got my hole started. - </p> - <p> - I struck something new that day in the ruck at the bottom of the hole. I - found ingots loose in the hodgepodge of pantry wreckage. A wooden box had - been smashed. I had a slit and a sort of deep pocket in the canvas - overalls affair which protected my India-rubber suit. As my toes located - loose ingots, I sifted the mush of sand with the fingers of one hand, - captured the gold, and stuffed it down into the deep pocket. I came up - with a box, and my breeches were bagging with gold. - </p> - <p> - Then came the climax of my strained relations with those greaser divers. - I’ve heard of pickpockets operating everywhere, almost, but I reckon that - I’m the first and only man who ever had his pockets picked at the bottom - of the sea. The first devil who got to me as the sand settled, in groping - for a handhold on my dress, felt the loose ingots. He got one, but he did - not get away with it. Trouble or no trouble, knives or no knives, I had - got to the limit of my temper. I gave him a jab with the end of my - sheet-iron nozzle, and as near as I could judge I took a hunk of meat out - of him as neatly as a woman could operate on dough with a doughnut cutter. - The edges of that nozzle had been whetted on sand until they were as sharp - as a razor blade. The fellow drooped that ingot and darted upward, blood - streaming behind him. Another diver was coming down to take his place, but - when I jabbed at him with the nozzle he whirled like a fish and went up, - giving me an awful kick when he started. - </p> - <p> - I reckoned I had thrown down the gage of battle, and I was not minded to - stay there and meet the pack, for I was weak after my extra struggle down - in the hole. It had been a tedious job gathering that loose gold. I saw - the box started on the way to the surf-boat, gave the emergency signal, - and was yanked back to the lighter at a lively clip. - </p> - <p> - Later that day, being in a proper and ugly frame of mind, I tucked a rifle - under my arm and had myself rowed to the neighboring sloop. I found the - spokesman of the crew ready to talk English that day, all right. But when - our conversation was ended I had received a surprise. No demand was made - on me for a “hot rock.” I found that I was dealing with men who had deeper - motives. It took me some time to understand that they were not holding out - for a big offer. The man at the rail wrinkled his nose and sneered when I - angrily told him that was what they were after. - </p> - <p> - “It’s what I’d expect a gringo to tell me,” he said. “But we are not here - to do business with thieves. You have no right to be here. You may pick - and steal, but it will not amount to <i>that!</i>” He snapped his finger - above his head. “We shall do our business with those who will have the - gold in the end, with those who can pay and will pay. And we have a man - who will see that we are paid.” - </p> - <p> - My wits had been sharpened while I had toiled at San Apusa Bar. I was able - to see farther into the ways of guile than before I had met a man like - Marcena Keedy. I had a flash of suspicion that was almost instinct. - </p> - <p> - “So you think you have made a better trade with that renegade, Keedy, do - you?” I flung at him. - </p> - <p> - I was sure I had guessed right; the man’s face betrayed him. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, we are honest men—not thieves,” he called back. “We do not deal - with thieves. We came here to stop you from stealing. But you do not stop. - Now we shall see. We have kept our knives in our belts. But you have set - us an example. You have tried to kill a man who did not offer to hurt - you.” He leaped up on the rail, and aimed a long finger at me. “We can - fight the way you do. If we catch you there on bottom again you’ll be - pulled up with six of these sticking in you.” He patted the knife in his - belt. - </p> - <p> - There are men who can threaten and who cannot impress others. It is easily - docketed as bluster. There is another kind of a man who gives you a look - and a word, and you know that he means what he says. I went away from that - sloop feeling that if I were desperate enough just then to commit suicide, - an easy way had been opened for me. - </p> - <p> - I went and tumbled into my berth, and viewed the ruins of that idea which - I had been building so prayerfully. It looked to me then, in my - despondency, as if Keedy was holding mighty good cards. If he had decided - to turn informer, he could demand and would undoubtedly receive a noble - rake-off. It was probable that he <i>would</i> inform—for that would - be his natural, lazy method of making his money out of the thing. The - posting of the pearl divers in behalf of the underwriters would be an - additional feather in his cap; on the other hand, if he proposed to come - with a backer and new equipment—having discovered my system—he - had good reasons for leaving men behind him who would hold us in check. If - Keedy returned with steam-pumps he could rip the bottom out of the - Pacific. Our makeshift equipment would not be two-spot high. - </p> - <p> - And how soon could he return, whether he came piloting the underwriters or - came on his own hook as a rival “thief”? I talked with Captain Holstrom on - that matter the next day. He rubbed his nose and scruffed his hair, and - could not guess. - </p> - <p> - I asked the captain for his estimate of the amount of treasure in our - chest. He told me that we had rising three-quarters of a million. - </p> - <p> - “Captain, it has become a matter of touch and go—live or die—with - us. With less than a third of that gold in our hands, we’re in no position - to do business when the pinch comes. I’m going after the rest of it!” - </p> - <p> - “But you said you knew them greaser pickerel would poke their knives into - you. God knows I’m hungry for the rest of the treasure, Sidney, but I’m no - Marcena Keedy.” - </p> - <p> - “I’m going down at night, Captain Holstrom.” - </p> - <p> - “It can’t be done.” - </p> - <p> - “It <i>can</i> be done. After I get my stream started I’m in the dark even - when the sun is brightest. I know the way from the lighter to that wreck, - all right. I’ve dragged my way there times enough with a trail of blood - behind me,” I told him, sourly. “It can never be any worse than it has - been. We’ll take extra chances, moor the lighter nearer the wreck, get rid - of the surf-boat and crew, and leave those greasers guessing.” - </p> - <p> - I want to say, to the credit of the captain, that he opposed this - undertaking of mine. His daughter—But I will not dwell on that - point. It harrows my soul now to remember the manner in which I opposed my - obstinate and reckless will to her honest grief and her almost frantic - protests. - </p> - <p> - I went down that night. I gave ’em three boxes before midnight. I - ate a lunch, and gave ’em one box more before I quit. - </p> - <p> - I have no ambition to make this story a rival of Fox’s Book of Martyrs. I - have already given some idea of the physical state I was in. I think I - became numb to pain, accustomed to agonies. I cannot explain otherwise how - I ever kept on, night after night. I haven’t the courage to write down - what I suffered. - </p> - <p> - But out from under those grinning greasers—grinning their sneers at - us daytimes—I dragged one and one-half million dollars’ worth of - gold ingots inside of two weeks—and they never suspected that I was - under water. - </p> - <p> - During the last of that nightmare, I felt as if I were working with my - chin over my shoulder. I was looking for trouble. I was expecting - disaster. I was scared to the marrow. I am not referring to any feelings I - had on account of the pearl divers. Their bug eyes had never detected me - in what I was about. I knew that darkness protected me more surely from - any attack by them than iron walls would have done. - </p> - <p> - But I worked nights with the constant feeling that the red and green eyes - of a steamer were coming up over the horizon. When I was awake daytimes I - peered into the northern sky hour after hour, expecting and dreading to - see the trail of smoke which would announce the coming of Marcena Keedy - and those whom he had notified. - </p> - <p> - My conferences with Captain Holstrom had been scant and rather brusque. - There were some points in that idea of mine that I had not thought out to - my own satisfaction, and I had not found the captain to be especially - helpful in attacking problems. He was wholly taken up in helping to pull - that gold in over the rail, in storing it, in guarding it. - </p> - <p> - His daughter knew why I stared at the northern horizon, and why desperate - worry added to the other woes I was suffering in that tophet of toil. She - had resigned herself to the situation when I had persisted in keeping on. - She became, as before, my wistful nurse. She talked to me as she would - have soothed a madman whom she hoped to win back to sanity. Well, I was a - lunatic in those days—there’s not much doubt of it. It was madness - made up of fear, desperation, agony of physical pain, lust for gold—all - forcing me to do work which no sane man could have accomplished in my - condition of body. - </p> - <p> - She dared to break her usual silence on the matter of the treasure when we - were on deck one afternoon after my sleep. She had been gazing at me - sorrowfully while I stared into the north. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, what use is it—this dreadful work and worry? You have told me - that you feel like a thief in it all. You sit and stare into the north as - though you were a wicked man, instead of being so brave and successful in - the most wonderful work a man ever did. You are getting their gold for - them. But you feel that they are coming to take it all away—and call - you a thief. You cannot deceive me as to your thoughts.” - </p> - <p> - I had to acknowledge to myself that her woman’s intuition was in fine - working order. I understood what men were, naturally, in affairs where big - sums of money were involved. These men, provided Keedy had done as I - supposed he had, would have Keedy’s lies about us to inflame them still - further in addition to their natural greed. - </p> - <p> - But she was no quitter on one point. She clenched her little fists and - kept on: - </p> - <p> - “I say fight back! It may be their money—somebody’s money—but - what good did it do them or anybody else until you came here with your - strength and your courage and your brains and got it up from the bottom of - the ocean? I don’t know what the law is about such things—I don’t - care. I’ve heard you and father talk, but I only know that often in this - life law is one thing and justice is another.” - </p> - <p> - “There are the laws of salvage,” I told her. “We could turn this money - over and wait for the courts to decide. But I’m afraid of what may happen - if we do that. There’s that renegade Keedy with his lies; there are the - customs men of Mexico, and all that mess of international law to - complicate things. Keedy can claim partnership; the shippers can claim - shares, I suppose; this one and that one can dip in their fingers; and - lawyers can tie the matter up; and God only knows when it will all be - untied so that we can get what we have honestly earned. We may have to - fight for our liberty, for men are crazy enough to try to make us out - thieves, providing they can get hold of much money by lies and injustice. - I have been pounding it all out in my poor head, and I can’t seem to - believe that the law is going to give us what we ought to have. For, you - see, this thing isn’t like anything else that has ever happened.” - </p> - <p> - “I say fight!” she insisted, her eyes alight, her cheeks flaming under the - tan. “You have fought the ocean for their sakes as well as your own—and - you have won. Keep on fighting! Plan something, do something—get - into some position where they will have to come to you and beg for what’s - theirs. You have earned the right to make them beg. And you know you - have!” - </p> - <p> - Yes, I did know it; and on that belief I had based my idea which had - served for my encouragement. Her advice and her woman’s spirit in the - matter heartened me. She had acted like the lady of the castle of whom I - had read. She brought to me my helmet and shield, and was sending me out - to battle as a brave woman should. I started to tell her more about my - idea—but we were interrupted. - </p> - <p> - There was a queer noise in the direction of the ladder which led to the - lower deck. It was such a prodigious puffing and wheezing and grunting - that anybody might suppose that we were going to receive a visit from a - hippopotamus. The Snohomish Glutton, the cook of the <i>Zizania</i>, - appeared to us. I had not laid eyes on that individual for weeks. He stuck - in his pantry like a hermit in a cell, reveling in the steam of food, - stuffing himself even while he was cooking for others. He rolled rather - than walked across the deck, and stood before us, propping up the rolls of - fat which shuttered his little eyes. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t know how much there is or where you’re keeping it,” he blurted, - without preface, in his tin-whistle voice. “I don’t ask questions—I - stay in my pantry and mind my business. But I serve the niggers in the - port alley and the whites in the starboard alley, and I hear both sides. - But there’s only one side now. They said that the monkey’s tail started - the row. But they’ve forgotten the row. Gold will make men forget ’most - anything. They’ve got together at last. They are going to grab for it. - They thought I haven’t been hearing because my eyes were shut and I seemed - to be asleep.” - </p> - <p> - “What do you mean, my man?” I demanded. - </p> - <p> - “I mean that you can play checkers on that checkerboard crew now, sir. It - has settled into a solid board—white and black mixed. The Russian - Finn is captain. He killed my cat. I have said I would get even with him. - He is captain, and they are going to drop on to that gold and run away.” - </p> - <p> - “They have planned a mutiny?” - </p> - <p> - “Mutiny and all the side dishes that go with it. I have heard. I wasn’t - asleep when they thought I was. I’ve got to go back. I have duff in the - pot.” - </p> - <p> - He backed to the ladder and let himself down, rung by rung, grunting more - terrifically than before. - </p> - <p> - The girl leaped to her feet. She held her clenched fists above her head. - Her white teeth showed beneath the crimson of her parted lips. She drove - her hands down at her sides. - </p> - <p> - “Oh!” she had gasped, when her hands were above her head. When she drove - them down her woman’s soul spoke its anger and horror. “Damn the name of - gold!” she cried; and I would not have indorsed a milder phrase even from - her. - </p> - <p> - For weeks my head had been full of seething particles of schemes relating - to my central idea. I reckon it needed a shock—needed the desperate - occasion of instant action—to make those particles cohere into - resolve. For a moment I was stunned by the prospect of this new danger; - and then a course of action came to me in a flash of inspiration—it - was the result of all the thinking I had been doing, without making up my - mind to act. - </p> - <p> - I hobbled to find Captain Holstrom in his state-room. I had to push him - back when he had heard a dozen words of what I had reported. He had - grabbed his pistols and was rushing to kill off a few prospective - mutineers as an example to the others. - </p> - <p> - “You have got to do what I advise in this matter, Captain. I’ve been - making plans. We’ve got not only this crew to consider, but Keedy and - those he is bringing down here. He is coming. We may as well make up our - minds to that. I want you to go down on the main deck as quickly as you - can and order the crew to get out planks and start in making strong boxes. - Privately, you and I will overhaul the junk for scrap iron, for chains and - cable. Get after the men. Hustle them. Make it a hurry-up job. Busy men - won’t have time to talk mutiny. And say to one of the mates, when you are - giving off orders, that you are going to pack the treasure into boxes - suitable for handling. Say that loud enough so that all the men will - hear.” - </p> - <p> - “I’ll be joheifered if I don’t believe I’ve got to handle a lunatic as - well as a mutiny,” flamed Captain Holstrom. “Are you advising me to pack - up that gold so that it will be easy lugging for the crew?” - </p> - <p> - “As soon as they believe that it is going to be packed so as to be easy - lugging there’ll be no mutiny until those boxes have been made. You’ve got - to do as I say. You ought to have had your lesson by this time that I know - what I’m talking about.” - </p> - <p> - He shuttled his eyes when I looked at him. He was remembering those past - matters in which he had made a fool of himself in resisting me. I was - willing to explain my plan to him, for I was not trying to humiliate - Captain Holstrom. But just then I had a feeling that every moment counted. - One instant more and I knew what the pricking of my mental thumbs had - meant. Mate Number-two Jones came clattering along the deck from below. He - shoved a red and greatly troubled face in at the door. - </p> - <p> - “Get your guns, Cap’n Holstrom,” he panted. “They’re grumbling and - mumbling. It means mutiny.” - </p> - <p> - “Take your guns with you, if you like,” I told the captain. “But go down - there as cool as you can. Give off your orders as if you didn’t notice - anything. And be sure to throw out that hint about why you want the boxes - made. This is no time to bull this game of ours.” - </p> - <p> - Captain Holstrom was no fool, and he knew when a man was in dead earnest. - I pushed him and he went. I’ll have to confess that he qualified as a good - actor when he arrived on the main deck. - </p> - <p> - I was looking down from the bridge, and I saw the men of the crew exchange - winks and grins behind the captain’s back. - </p> - <p> - The model crew of the crack ship in all the world could not have shown - such willing obedience. They went to their work on the rush. Saws rasped - and hammers banged. There was clattering of iron and hum of industry. - </p> - <p> - Captain Holstrom left the work in charge of his mates, and came back to - his state-room to resume his watch over the treasure. I closeted myself - with him. - </p> - <p> - “Now, we’ll get down to the bed-rock of the proposition, Captain Holstrom. - We have agreed—you and I—that Keedy is about due here. We - don’t know who will come with him. But we can be mighty sure that they’ll - be no friends of ours. We’d be playing the parts of idiots to keep that - gold on board the <i>Zizania</i>. But there isn’t a harbor nearer than - Acapulco where we can land it; we can’t lug it ashore on the open coast - through the breakers; we can’t dodge all around the Pacific Ocean with it. - Right now, there’s another complication besides Keedy and his crowd. We - have still more desperate thieves right here with us. The mates and Shank - are safe. To-night the five of us will get busy, pack that gold in the - strong boxes, and drop it overboard.” - </p> - <p> - “Great guns!” groaned the captain. “I said you was crazy, and now I’m sure - of it. Dig it all up, and then throw it away again! No, let’s not put it - in the boxes. Let’s hoot and holler and cavort around the deck and heave - it overboard, one ingot at a time, so as to see who can make the biggest - splash. Come on—let’s have fun!” he raved. - </p> - <p> - “I am far from being crazy, Captain Holstrom,” I informed him, giving him - the hard eye so steadily that he blinked. “To each box we’ll hitch chain - long enough to reach to the surface. That chain will have rope cable—say - ten feet of it—hitched to the end, and the rope will be buoyed to a - small spar. The box and all the chain will lie on bottom. The small spar - with its rope cable will swim well under the surface of the water. In case - we want to raise the box we can catch the rope and spar with a rake, or - else drag for it with a chain between two boats.” - </p> - <p> - “I hate to see that gold go under water again,” mourned Captain Holstrom. - </p> - <p> - “It’s that or stand by and see mutineers lug it off or lawyers divide it.” - </p> - <p> - He writhed like a speared fish when he pondered on the alternatives. I - went out on deck and left him to think, confident that his slow mind would - finally swing to my way of making the best of a bad matter. - </p> - <p> - The checker-board crew was at work in a real frenzy of effort. I have no - doubt that each man secretly told himself that he was building his own box—and - he was putting his best work into his treasure-carrier. - </p> - <p> - The summer evening was long and the crew labored on after their supper. - According to my best judgment, when darkness shut down on their labors - there were boxes enough for our purpose. The men went to their rest on the - berth-deck in the forepeak of the steamer. Captain Holstrom had remarked, - casually, in their hearing, that he would wait till next day before - packing the ingots. From my post on the bridge, though the dusk had - deepened, I caught a cheerful wink or two between man and man, and they - went below looking like cats who had been promised a full meal of - canaries. - </p> - <p> - In order to encourage general peace and confidence, the mates allowed the - usual deck watch to go below and sleep, and the lazy sailors were only too - glad to do so. - </p> - <p> - When they were snoring in satisfactory chorus, Captain Holstrom slid their - hatch over and barred it so as to guard against a surprise by peepers. - Before two bells after midnight the last box of our gold had gone gurgling - down over the taffrail. The last spar winked out of sight under the surge. - </p> - <p> - “It’s gone!” groaned Captain Holstrom. - </p> - <p> - “Thank God, it has!” said I, and felt the girl’s little hand snuggle - comfortingly into my unsightly fist. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0037" id="link2H_4_0037"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - XXXVI—THE TERROR FROM THE NORTH - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE next morning - Captain Holstrom ordered the checker-board crew assembled on the main - deck, forward. He appeared on the bridge and leaned over the rail like a - candidate ready to make a stump speech. But, unlike a candidate, he had - two revolvers strapped to his waist and in plain sight. - </p> - <p> - “I have a few words to say to you critters down there,” he began. “I know - all about what you have been planning to do. I have watched you peeking - and spying around this morning for them boxes. Well, you won’t find them. - Them boxes are a good way off.” He pointed a stubby finger down at the - Russian Finn. “You come up here!” he commanded. The Finn turned pale and - shook his head. - </p> - <p> - “You come up here and I’ll promise that you won’t be hurt. I want you to - take back a report to that gang of yours. If you don’t obey a master’s - orders and come up here,” continued the captain, pulling a gun, “it will - be mutiny—and I know how to deal with mutiny. I’ll shoot you where - you stand.” - </p> - <p> - After a little hesitation the Finn climbed the ladder. The captain led him - into the wheel-house, into all the state-rooms, and took him on a genera! - tour of inspection of the upper deck. - </p> - <p> - “Now you can see with your own eyes that there isn’t any gold up here to - mutiny about. You go back and tell that gang what you have seen—or, - rather, what you didn’t see.” He pushed the Finn to the ladder. - </p> - <p> - “I give you all liberty to hunt over the lower part of the steamer from - forepeak to rudder,” declared the captain over the rail. “You can help - yourselves to all the gold you find. But I can tell you that there ain’t - an ounce aboard here. That gold is stored where you can’t get it.” He - swept his hand in a gesture which embraced the horizon. “If you act like - men from now on until this cruise is over, you’ll be paid like lords. If - you hanker for mutiny, start in and mutiny. Them who live through it will - never get a cent; them who are killed can’t use gold where they will fetch - up; it will be too hot to handle!” The men fell to muttering among - themselves, but I could see that they had been cowed. The report of the - leader made them still more melancholy. They divided at last—the - blacks from the whites—and went about their tasks. - </p> - <p> - “I want to say, Sidney, that you showed good judgment,” said the captain, - as he went to his state-room. “But I don’t feel like giving three cheers—not - while that gold is back on the bottom of the Pacific Ocean.” - </p> - <p> - Well, there was gold to the value of about a million yonder on the bottom - in that wreck of the <i>Golden Gate</i>, but I had no appetite for more - gold just then. I knew that I had reached the limit of my strength and - courage. I had won more than two millions from the greed of that miserly - ocean, and had given it back again in order to make another fight against - the greed of men. - </p> - <p> - I sat on deck and endured the pains of my tortured body, and waited for - the inevitable when it should come down over the horizon from the north. - Half a dozen anxious days dragged past—and then it came! - </p> - <p> - A trail of blacksmoke signaled it—they were using lots of coal and - were in a hurry, as that banner of black indicated. Framed in Captain - Holstrom’s long telescope, it took form as a big ocean tug. She seemed to - leap angrily across the sea as the surges rolled under her, and the bows - churned up white yeast. - </p> - <p> - There was no hesitation in the manner in which she came on. She bore down - on us with a speed which seemed to say, “Here we come to take our own!” - </p> - <p> - We counted at least a score of men aboard, using our glass. And when the - tug slowed off our quarter we saw that most of the men held rifles in the - hook of their arms. - </p> - <p> - “It’s what I have been expecting,” I told the captain. “They have come - down here proposing to treat us as pirates. How would you feel right now - with gold aboard here?” - </p> - <p> - Captain Holstrom wagged his head mournfully, and seemed to lack words with - which to express his feelings. - </p> - <p> - “We are going to make fast to you,” bawled a man, with a voice like a - fog-horn. “Mind how you perform.” - </p> - <p> - That was a reckless performance even for a tug in that sea, but they - rigged a row of fenders and put her alongside with much clanging of bell. - A dozen men leaped on board the <i>Zizania</i>. Some were guards who - carried rifles. There were three men who seemed of importance. I spied - Marcena Keedy on the upper deck of the tug, holding to the funnel stays. - He did not venture to come on board us with the others. - </p> - <p> - “Let them do the talking,” I whispered to Captain Holstrom as the three - were climbing the ladder. “Just stand on your dignity as master of this - steamer.” And the captain did so in a way that highly satisfied me. He - chewed a toothpick and displayed much indifference. - </p> - <p> - “I bid you welcome, gents!” he informed them, stiffly. “And you can see - that I ain’t looking for trouble—otherwise I might have a few words - to say about your way of boarding this steamer. If it’s ignorance of rules - and etiquette, I’ll overlook it.” - </p> - <p> - “It’s business, Captain Holstrom,” snapped the spokesman, a chap who wore - a hard hat and looked as though he had just closed a desk in an office. - “We are from San Francisco, and represent the underwriters in the matter - of the <i>Golden Gate</i>.” - </p> - <p> - “Step into the wheel-house—it’s my office,” stated the captain. He - pointed to the muzzle of the first rifle, rising over the edge of the - upper deck. “If those fellows come up here I shall consider it an insult - to me as a peaceful man and master of this vessel.” - </p> - <p> - The man hesitated. - </p> - <p> - “We’re no pirates,” remarked Captain Holstrom. - </p> - <p> - The man gave orders to the gunmen to remain below. - </p> - <p> - “If you are not pirates,” he said, when we were assembled in the - wheel-house, “you can show it by turning over to us the gold you’ve dug - out of the wreck over yonder.” - </p> - <p> - The spokesman was a rather excitable fellow. He began to tap his finger on - the captain’s breast. He showed documents with seals and all the other - law-shark trimmings. - </p> - <p> - “You have no right to come here and operate. Have you got attorney’s - powers? Have you got anything in the way of permits? No, you haven’t. That - gold belongs to other people. Give it up and save trouble.” - </p> - <p> - Captain Holstrom threw a sort of helpless look at me, stifling some - emotion. I realized that he was at the end of his dignity and that in - about ten seconds he would begin to use his talents in the line of - profanity. - </p> - <p> - “Excuse me if I say a word here,” I broke in. “I am a partner in this - enterprise.” - </p> - <p> - “You’re using a polite word for this kind of a job,” sneered the man. - </p> - <p> - “You may represent the underwriters,” I said, “but to all intents and - purposes the underwriters had abandoned the treasure.” - </p> - <p> - “We shall take our gold, my friend!” - </p> - <p> - “Rights or no rights?” - </p> - <p> - “You have made it a grab game, and we’re in on the grab!” He was mighty - overbearing and offensive. Law was behind him, a fortune was concerned, - and he was showing the usual spirit of the greedy world. - </p> - <p> - “You have full powers in this matter so far as the underwriters are - concerned, have you?” I asked. - </p> - <p> - “Absolute.” He waved his papers under my nose. “Issued due and regular by - the court and the United States.” - </p> - <p> - “But don’t you realize that you are not in the United States, sir?” - </p> - <p> - “There’s got to be more or less dog eat dog in this game. We happen to - have the cards. If you don’t hand over that gold, we shall put a crew on - board this steamer, guard it with rifles, and set this boat into waters - where we have jurisdiction. I’ll be frank to say that then we can beat you - in court in the lying game, because we start with law behind us, and - you’re handicapped. I say this to show you that you’d better fork over.” - </p> - <p> - I was holding my temper. For the sake of my own conscience in this affair, - I wanted the other side to lay all their cards on the table; in their - insolence and confidence, they seemed inclined to do so, for their plain - intent was to intimidate us. - </p> - <p> - “What do we get out of it for ourselves?” I inquired, meekly. - </p> - <p> - “Remember that you came down here on the sly, thinking you were going to - get away with the whole thing. It hasn’t been your fault that you haven’t. - I think that we can promise to keep you out of the penitentiary if you act - sensible. I’m not making any rash promises.” - </p> - <p> - There we had it! Contemptuous disregard of all our rights because they - thought they had the upper hand on us! - </p> - <p> - I have hinted before this that men become monsters in the presence of much - gold. From my own experience I knew the insanity which gold stirs in a - man. I had foreseen some such attitude as this on the part of the men who - would come to claim the treasure. A grab game, eh? And success to the best - man! - </p> - <p> - I looked at that fellow—at his white hands and his flabbiness—a - man who had never done an honest day’s labor with grit and muscles. He had - given me his code. I told him as much. - </p> - <p> - “And I thank you for giving me that code,” I went on. - </p> - <p> - I stripped the bandages off my hands. I tore the wrappings off my feet. I - showed them sights which made their faces turn white. I ripped the shirt - from my back and exhibited that spectacle of ragged flesh. - </p> - <p> - “You have given me your code, I say! It’s going to be a grab game. All - right! Have it your way. Go hunt this steamer from top to bottom. You’re - welcome! Prove that we have any of your damned gold! Go ahead!” - </p> - <p> - I hobbled out of the wheel-house and went into my state-room, and they - began to hunt the <i>Zizania</i> over. And I heard what Captain Holstrom - said to them after they had finished. - </p> - <p> - “Now, gents, you have made sure that there’s nothing on my <i>Zizania</i> - that belongs to you. You’re aboard here without any rights. I just want to - remark that I’ll give you five minutes to get aboard your own boat and - cast off, and stay cast off’m here, yourselves. I’ve got some men who can - fight—and I’ve got a two-pounder in my junk-heap. I’ll put a ball - through that tug that will disturb her innards seriously.” - </p> - <p> - They went silently and grudgingly—but they went. I enjoyed the - expression on Marcena Keedy’s face as the tug backed off. I came out on - the upper deck and gloated down on him. They anchored their craft a little - distance from us, and I could readily imagine the council of war that - started among them as soon as their mud-hook bit the holding-ground. - </p> - <p> - A boat put off from the tug next day, and the three important-looking men - were in it. But Captain Holstrom warned them away from us. The spokesman - shouted his message. He was angry, and he still dealt in threats. In order - to impress upon those gentlemen that we were not at all interested in - their threats, the captain and I turned our backs on them, and after a - time they bawled themselves out of breath and returned to the tug. - </p> - <p> - They kept up those tactics for most of a week. They were certainly - stubborn and insolent persons, and they were fighting for big money. But - the more they raved and threatened, the more at peace with myself and my - conscience I felt. We were fighting for our own now, and they had - established the code. - </p> - <p> - Then at last the boat came with a white flag. The spokesman politely - stated that they had come to talk some business in private, and begged to - be allowed to come on board. - </p> - <p> - Miss Kama was with me on deck when they climbed up the ladder. She had - resumed her woman’s garb, and they stared at her in frank astonishment and - admiration. She did look particularly sweet, her little cap on her curls, - her sweater displaying her winsome curves of beauty. - </p> - <p> - She seemed to astonish them, I say. The next moment she astonished <i>me</i>. - She walked into the wheel-house by my side, and was the first to speak. - </p> - <p> - “Gentlemen,” she said to the three, “you have seen with your own eyes how - this poor boy has suffered. You can’t see how I have suffered as I have - watched him do what he has done, but the marks are on my soul, I know. - There is law in the world, and all that, and men are too apt to get angry - in law when there is much money concerned. Can’t you all keep from being - angry to-day, and be wise, and decide on what is right?” - </p> - <p> - They looked at one another and the spokesman stammered something about - being over there to have a heart-to-heart talk. - </p> - <p> - “May I not stay?” she asked, wistfully. “I won’t say a word to bother you—I - won’t move unless you start to quarrel—and then I’ll only remind you - that there’s a lady present.” The queer little smile she gave them started - the grins on their faces. The ice was broken. - </p> - <p> - Those men were human once more. The girl had given the magic touch to the - conference. - </p> - <p> - We had not been getting anywhere at all, in the past, and we woke up and - realized it as we stood there with the girl’s presence toning us down. It - had been man’s bluff and bluster; they had arrived ready mad and I felt - that I knew what ailed them outside of the mere money part of the thing. - </p> - <p> - “Gentlemen,” I said, “if it hadn’t been for Marcena Keedy’s tongue you - would have shown a better side to us when you arrived here.” Nobody seemed - ready to say anything for a moment and I went on. “I reckon he told, you - that he was our partner and that we have cheated him.” - </p> - <p> - “He had quite a story to tell when he reported the matter to the - underwriters,” admitted the lawyer. - </p> - <p> - “After you sized him up, you naturally decided that men who could cheat - Keedy must be the champion renegades of the Pacific coast! I can’t blame - you much for the way you came banging up against us. I don’t know what - else he has said to our prejudice, and I don’t care. Now that you are here - with us, face to face, and we’re down on a real man-basis, we don’t need - to paw over what a liar has said. I want you to call that man Keedy on to - the <i>Zizania</i>, even though he poisons the air. What I have to say - I’ll say in his hearing.” - </p> - <p> - I’m pretty sure that Keedy did not relish making that call, but the men - who went after him brought him. He had a gambler’s face and nerve and he - put on his best front; he even disregarded Miss Kama’s presence and - lighted a cigar to appear more at ease, and I plucked it from between his - jaws and flung it out of the window. - </p> - <p> - “I want the floor for only a few moments, gentlemen,” - </p> - <p> - I told the group. “I’m going to tell you how this expedition was - organized, how this person Keedy fitted in; and what happened.” And I did - tell them. - </p> - <p> - It was necessary for the lawyer to appoint Capt. Rask Holstrom as special - guard to keep Keedy’s mouth shut while I talked, but the rules of a - court-room prevailed after that. - </p> - <p> - “I’ll admit, gentlemen,” I said when I had finished my little story, “that - we have acted like children so far as the legal side of this thing goes. - But it seemed only a crazy scheme at best when we started out—I - couldn’t feel that I was dealing with any reality. After we arrived here - we did the best we could, and we have been too busy to study up law. But I - want to say that Captain Holstrom and I are not thieves by nature. I’ll - show you a thief, however. There he stands!” I pointed to Keedy. “He stole - from us a box of bullion worth twenty thousand dollars. I know that he - recovered two more boxes. Now that you are proposing to handle this matter - man-fashion, Captain Holstrom and I stand ready to give to owners what is - fairly their own. I advise you to ask Keedy what he proposes to do!” The - lawyer asked him in mighty prompt fashion. - </p> - <p> - “Up to date nobody seems to be making any showdown except in talk,” said - Mr. Keedy. “I’ll cash in conversation just as far as anybody.” - </p> - <p> - “But how does it happen, Keedy, that when you gave us your other - information you did not say that you had any of the gold in your hands?” - asked the lawyer. - </p> - <p> - He scowled and did not answer. - </p> - <p> - “If these men turn their bullion over on a square lay, are you prepared to - do the same?” - </p> - <p> - “I’ll talk business after I have seen them turn it over.” - </p> - <p> - “That’s a rather queer attitude for you to take, Keedy, after your talk to - the underwriters and to me.” - </p> - <p> - But the renegade did not show any inclination to come across with anything - definite. - </p> - <p> - I knew well enough that he could not. His try with those divers had cost - high and it was safe to presume that he had realized on every ounce of the - bullion his men had recovered and had planted the money. My rancor was - deep and I walked up to him and declared my belief. - </p> - <p> - “You understand, Keedy, that you must produce the bullion or its value in - money or our bargain doesn’t stand,” said the lawyer. - </p> - <p> - I did not need that declaration to be assured that the villain had sold us - without regard to our rights or our safety. And sudden fervor and - determination thrilled through and through me. I proposed to show those - men from San Francisco the difference between Marcena Keedy and the - partners on whom he had pasted his dirty label. Mere talk was not as - convincing proof as I desired. I had already made an investment of my best - strength and all my courage and I had much to show. But I felt that if - those men could see with their own eyes what that investment signified in - the way of human endurance, they would meet me in more generous spirit - when we came to make our bargain. - </p> - <p> - Up to then the legal papers had only been waved under my nose in - threatening manner. I asked permission to examine them, and the lawyer was - very obliging. They were all-embracing, even to granting powers of - attorney to the underwriters’ agents to handle the matter in all its - aspects. - </p> - <p> - “Gentlemen,” I said, “I’m going down after the rest of that gold, and - every box will be put into your hands as it comes up.” - </p> - <p> - I got a glimpse at the girl’s face, but I did not dare to look into her - eyes. Her cheeks were white, and she was gasping protests which nobody - heeded, for those men were listening to something which filled their ears - just then: - </p> - <p> - “And after you see how I am bucking hell for your sakes, well, then we - shall see what you have to say to me—man to man!” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0038" id="link2H_4_0038"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - XXXVII—THE FRUIT OF THE TREE OF KNOWLEDGE - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>F what I have just - written sounds as if I wanted to pose as a hero of melodrama, I have - produced a wrong impression. I was playing a big game and I was using all - the hard, cold and calculating wit I possessed. As I have said, I proposed - to operate on human nature. After all, I was in no position to demand - anything from those men, in spite of the bluff we were making in regard to - the treasure we had recovered and concealed. I had a healthy fear of what - the courts might do to us in a case where stolen property had been hidden. - It was up to me to cultivate a spirit of generosity in them—and that - was why I went down again, though every nerve and fiber in my racked body - made protest. But I went down under better conditions. - </p> - <p> - The tug had powerful pumps and a considerable quantity of good hose. She - was manageable in shoal water, and by means of her hawsers and well-set - kedges we were able to swing her in, for the day’s work, fairly close to - the wreck. - </p> - <p> - There is no need of further dwelling on details—and it would be - necessary to supply the details by somebody’s word of mouth—somebody - who watched me, for I don’t remember much of what happened. I was a - lunatic, I suppose; my human machinery was operated by a single mania. As - I look back I am unable to separate the nightmare from the reality with - any amount of clarity. Therefore, we’ll allow all that to hang in limbo, - seeing that this is a plain yam and not a study of psychology. - </p> - <p> - However, I can remember flashes through the dark curtain, and of a few of - these I will make mention, for they have a bearing on the tale. - </p> - <p> - There was a period when I was in the mood for babbling. I could feel my - dry tongue clacking away inside my jaws like a clapper in a wooden box and - wholly beyond my control. That tongue was telling all my story about my - love and longing and ambition in my boyhood days—telling the story - to somebody who patted my cheek and crooned sympathy—somebody who - did not annoy me by dispute when I said that I would never live to see - Levant again—somebody who promised to carry there the three rings - and tell my story and fulfil my requests. It was a dream full of agony for - me—rather it may be called a dreaming reality. I wanted to stop that - clacking tongue. I wasn’t operating it. It was telling a lot of truth - which I did not want published. It was putting me in wrong, I felt, just - as if some enemy were tattling about me. It was mine and I hated it - furiously for what seemed to be betrayal of me. I wasn’t standing for what - the tongue said. - </p> - <p> - Then there was a period when I forgave the tongue many of its past - offenses, because, at last, it did good service for me in man-talk to men. - It was steady and convincing and I was conscious that it had helped me to - win in some big matter. Then, later, there was a time when there were - shots and shoutings and dismal trouble of some sort. And, last of all, in - the blurred imaginings, mixed with the real, came the long-drawn-out, - misty, groping, wondering consciousness that I was out of strife and - trouble and agony. But I could not come out of the shadow—I knew - that many days and nights came and went while I was trying to grasp - something which I could know was reality. - </p> - <p> - I was dreaming that I was back in my old room in Dodovah Vose’s tavern, - and that dream seemed to last for days. Then all at once I woke up and I - was truly in that room. - </p> - <p> - By the open window sat Capt. Rask Holstrom and he was junking up a Red - Astrachan apple with his jackknife. He poised a cube of the fruit on the - tip of the blade; looked me square in the eyes, and asked, in a - matter-of-fact way, if I was feeling more like myself that day. - </p> - <p> - There was no doubt about my being in Dodovah Vose’s tavern! I made sure - before I opened my mouth. There was the old quaint smell of the place, and - I could always trust my nose. For my ears there was the whining squeak of - the windmill pump in the stable-yard. I touched the irregular seams of the - silk crazy-quilt, and, to delight my eyes, the brass handles of the - ancient high-boy in the corner blinked back the radiance of the afternoon - sunlight. All my senses were satisfied, for I could almost taste, as the - breeze flicked my lips, the savor of fried chicken which came floating in - through the window. And after my senses told me what they did, I felt at - ease and dismissed all the shadows and imaginings. Never did a man come - back to his right balance of mind in more commonplace fashion. - </p> - <p> - I decided to be just as matter-of-fact as Captain Rask. I told him I felt - pretty fair. Parts of my hands were bandaged and I was aware that my feet - were tied up. - </p> - <p> - “Have another apple?” - </p> - <p> - So I had been eating apples from Dodovah Vose’s orchard! I used to steal - from his trees—especially the early-autumn fruit. I must have been - giving the impression that I was pretty nigh all right, even though the - kink in my brain had kept me on the side-track so far as I was concerned, - personally. - </p> - <p> - The captain junked an apple into quarters, pared them, and gave me the - fruit. I think Eve tempted Adam with a Red Astrachan! - </p> - <p> - The captain sat and rocked and munched. Confound his old pelt, why didn’t - he start in and tell me what had happened? - </p> - <p> - He clacked his knife shut after a time and yawned. - </p> - <p> - “So, as I was telling you before you had your nap, Kama and I may as well - move on. There isn’t much more that’s sensible we can do for you.” I - wondered just what they <i>had</i> done! - </p> - <p> - “Where is Kama?” I called her “Kama” quite naturally; it seemed to me that - my clattering tongue had been that familiar for a long time. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I guess she’s just resting up a little in her room. She is bound to - be nursing you most of the time, though you don’t need so much attention, - so far as I can see. Do you know, Ross, in spite of what you and I were - saying to each other yesterday, that girl o’ mine still insists that your - mind isn’t right, and that you’re off the hooks. She says there’s - something that hasn’t come back to you!” - </p> - <p> - God bless that girl’s intuition! I felt the tears coming into my eyes. - </p> - <p> - “Women folks are always seeing something a man can’t see—because it - isn’t there for him to see!” declared the captain. “I have made her keep - her mouth shut best I could! Nice thing it would be to have it go out in - business circles that you’re a lunatic. That old hippohampus uncle of - yours would try to get himself appointed your guardian. He makes believe - to be a great friend of yours, I know, when he calls, but I reckon he’s - only hiding that old grudge that Vose has told me about. <i>There’s</i> - your friend, Ross—Vose! He’s the old boy to tie to!” I was getting - considerable information from Capt. Rask Hol-strom without weakening his - confidence in my sanity. - </p> - <p> - “And then, outside of Vose, it has really been a good thing for you to get - back here near your girl,” pursued the captain. “Now you take Kama on that - point! I say women folks have too much imagination. When you told me you - wanted the Kingsley girl to stay away from you till you was fit to look - at, why, then you was showing hard, ordinary common sense. In spite of all - that Kama or anybody else said about her coming in here, I done just what - you asked me to do—for I believe in men standing by each other. But, - as I have told you, Kama was bound to have it that a screw was loose - because you didn’t want your girl first thing! And Kama has been bound and - determined to hang on here till she is sure you’re all right with your - girl. But I can’t see that your girl is in any great pucker about you! She - hasn’t showed up!” The sweat started out on me. Into what sort of a tangle - had my affairs been drawn? - </p> - <p> - “But I’ve got a good girl, even if she is flighty in her thoughts—as - I suppose girls’ nature is about this lovey-dove business. I used to sit - and hear you talk to her on the <i>Zizania</i> about those three rings and - that girl back in Levant—all mush, mush right in the middle of that - wind-up job—and, I swear, if I didn’t think you were crazy then, - though she wouldn’t have it that way! Said you were all right. Kama and I - never did seem to agree very well on much of anything. After the - settlement with the underwriters, when you were right as a trivet and - wanted to stay on the Coast, then she insisted that you were out of your - head—as I don’t mind telling you noe when we’re going—and she - fairly picked you up and lugged you back here. You were too sick to help - yourself, you know! Made me help her do it! For you and your girl, said - she! I ain’t sure but what you <i>was</i> a little delirious there at - times. But being here with Vose has done you good. However, I like West - the best. So as I say, I reckon Kama and I will pack up and start back. - Furthermore, you know, I’m summonsed for that trial.” I merely stared at - the old gossiper. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t want to be too hard on those critters,” he said, musingly. “There - was a big temptation and Marcena Keedy knew how to stir ’em up. - When he lolloped that word ‘gold’ around in his mouth he always made me - drool.” - </p> - <p> - Didn’t I remember, also? Only too well! - </p> - <p> - “No, I’m going to use some discretion in my testimony,” - </p> - <p> - Captain Rask chatted on. “I have been running over in my mind what - happened. Now, if you’re a mind to, let me kind of rehearse it over to you - so that you can check up my memory. I’ll hate to have any law-sharks - tangle me on the stand. If I make a slip catch me up on it.” - </p> - <p> - I assured him that I would, and I settled back in bed with great joy in my - heart. - </p> - <p> - He gave me the most wonderful story I ever read or ever listened to—wonderful - because it concerned myself, my friends, my hopes, and my fortune; - wonderful, because I was in it, acted in it, and now for the first time - was hearing what I had done. He droned out the hair-raising narrative - without showing special interest in it, confident that I knew the - happenings as well as he; at the most interesting point, in order to - collect his thoughts in regard to Marcena Keedy, he stopped and pared and - munched an apple; I was saving my own face in the matter and I did not - dare to prod him. - </p> - <p> - I am not minded to make much account of the details of that story. In this - yarn I have been telling what I do know—not what I have heard from - another man’s lips. Let this much suffice: I recovered the rest of the <i>Golden - Gate</i> treasure, so far as human knowledge of it went, the jettisoned - gold was dragged for and raised, and then mutiny, which had been secretly - organized by Keedy and the Finn, developed into a bloody battle which had - been won against numbers by the rifles of the lawful guards. Keedy would - not fight—he had prodded the other poor devils to do that—and - the San Francisco men took the law into their hands when the <i>Zizania</i> - was on the high seas and hung Keedy from the derrick boom. So, there’s - enough in a nutshell to make quite a book by itself! - </p> - <p> - And then while Captain Rask meditatively wagged his jaws on another apple - I lay and gnawed my nervous lips and wondered how much money I had in the - world! I did not dare to ask questions. I felt as bitterly fearful as a - straitened merchant who has lost all run of his bank credits and is afraid - to ask his bank how he stands; the fear of giving one’s self away becomes - terror pretty vital! - </p> - <p> - “However, I’m going to pass the rest of my days without worrying about - their troubles,” declared the captain, again clacking shut his knife - blade. “They brought it on themselves, though I shall swear on the stand - that Keedy toled them into the scrape. You and I did right by the faithful - ones—especially <i>you</i>, for you could give out a better line of - talk—when we pulled that hundred thousand out of the underwriters - and added it to the hundred thousand of our own. They’re satisfied, even - the Snohomish Glutton in his new restaurant, and Ingot Ike, who has gone - to board with him. Clear consciences—that’s what we’ve got, Ross!” - </p> - <p> - But how much clear profit? The fact that we had handed out one hundred - thousand dollars was a consoling bit of information. There naturally must - be plenty more where that came from! - </p> - <p> - “Do all the folks here—do the people in Levant know how well we’re - fixed?” I faltered. - </p> - <p> - “Sure! I ain’t ashamed of it. Are you? I haven’t let the yarn lose - anything by the way I have told it. It has been a good way of killing - time.” - </p> - <p> - So everybody else in Levant, except myself, knew how rich I was! - </p> - <p> - And then that infernal old tiddlywhoop yawned, got up, and stamped out of - the room, saying that he was going to stretch his legs. I didn’t have - spirit enough to stop him and ask the great question. - </p> - <p> - I don’t know just how wild I looked while I sat there, but I know I felt - wild. Then Kama Holstrom came into the room. - </p> - <p> - I was conscious that my features were not obeying my volition. I had not - been able to make that clacking tongue of mine behave; now my face was - just as disobedient. I wanted with all my heart to beam gratitude and joy - on her, but I seemed to be trying to manage a stiff mask. If she had - turned and escaped in sheer fright I would not have blamed her. - </p> - <p> - I entirely mistook the expression on her face when she stood there and - stared at me. Her eyes were wide with what appeared to be terror. Her lips - parted and her cheeks grew pale. Then she ran to the side of the bed, - plumped down on her knees, set both her little hands about one of mine and - cried, “Thank the good God! You have come back—you have come back!” - </p> - <p> - And that’s how a woman knows. - </p> - <p> - The balm of her tears bathed my hand when she put her forehead down and - hid her face. It was not white any longer—the warm color flooded it - and I ought to have been content for a time with what I could bring in the - compass of my gaze. But I wanted to have a blessing from her eyes, and - when I struggled to lift her face she suddenly released my hand and - hurried to the window and sat down. - </p> - <p> - “I didn’t mean to make a fool of myself that way,” she panted. “But when I - saw your eyes I knew you had come back—and it has been so long—and - the others haven’t understood!” - </p> - <p> - “When I came to myself, just now, Kama, your father was here and I didn’t - confess to him. What I know now and what you have known all along we must - keep to ourselves.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes! Nobody has believed what I was so sure of!” - </p> - <p> - We sat there in silence for a long time. - </p> - <p> - “Do you remember?” she asked, almost whispering the question. - </p> - <p> - “Only flashes. Not much. But your father has just been chatting on, and - now I have the story without his realizing what news he was telling me.” - </p> - <p> - I was the first to break another silence: - </p> - <p> - “I know from what he said how faithful and self-sacrificing—” - </p> - <p> - “You force me to remind you how much we owe to you, sir. It makes me very - uncomfortable. It’s twitting me of a debt which father and I can never - pay. Please don’t!” - </p> - <p> - So there was conversation closed on that point; I did not feel like making - Kama Holstrom uncomfortable. - </p> - <p> - “It’s all coming about just as it should. It will be all right from now - on,” she said, after a time. - </p> - <p> - She had recovered all her usual serenity; she was the girl of the <i>Zizania</i>, - cool and distant. I was irritated by her manner. That aloofness was not a - square deal between folks who had been through what we had suffered - together. It seemed to me that I was not being treated right—first - that matter-of-fact manner of Captain Rask and now this coolness on the - daughter’s part. Her first greeting had given me an appetite for more of - the same sort. Of course, I didn’t expect to be welcomed back from the - shadows with a brass band and speeches—but some kind of hankering or - dissatisfaction was gnawing inside me and I felt ugly and cross and - childish. - </p> - <p> - “I haven’t intended to go too far in anything, sir. But I have been so - anxious to help all I could—forgive me, but father and I do owe you - so much! Don’t scowl so! I’ll not mention debts again. I hope you won’t - think I was too eager—and that I meddled. But I went to her! I did - not want her to misunderstand! It was due you and due myself—and - her. So I have explained everything. I have told her the story. It will - come about all right—just as you hope—I am sure! I did not - intend to stay here—but I have been worrying about—But now you - can speak for yourself!” - </p> - <p> - She rattled it off so fast I couldn’t get in a word. She looked relieved - when she had finished—as if she had been carrying around something - very disagreeable and had handed it over to somebody for keeps. And I was - obliged to wait quite a while before I dared to trust myself to reply to - her. What she had handed to me seemed to be about as gratifying as if she - had dropped a sea-crab down the back of my neck and then sat back and - expected me to give her three cheers. - </p> - <p> - “Look-a-here!” I yapped. “Where did you get the notion that I wanted you - or anybody else to act as my attorney over there?” I jerked my thumb in - the direction of the Kingsley house. - </p> - <p> - “But your head was not right—I knew it,” she stammered. “I was - afraid there would be a misunderstanding—and after what you made me - promise on the <i>Zizania</i>—” - </p> - <p> - “Don’t you know that I was as crazy as a coot?” - </p> - <p> - “But I knew that deep down in your heart you must love her.” - </p> - <p> - “A crazy man doesn’t tell the truth.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, he does when he is revealing his real soul.” - </p> - <p> - “I wasn’t revealing any soul. I was babbling away—and I knew I was - talking fool talk and I couldn’t stop my tongue. I didn’t mean that guff. - And now you have got this thing all tangled up by talking to Celene - Kingsley. I can do my own love-making!” That temper of mine was working in - fine shape. And Kama Holstrom was no wilting daisy in temperament! - </p> - <p> - “From what I know of you myself, and what <i>others</i>—I call no - names—have said, you are about as well qualified in that direction - as a catfish.” She jumped up and stamped her foot. - </p> - <p> - “But I know now what love—” - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Sidney, you have just insulted me because I tried to be your friend. - And your <i>sweetheart</i>,” she sneered, “has no better manners than you! - She has not even thanked me for bringing you to her! I do not understand! - I shall go to her at once and tell her that you are in your right senses - at last. After this you handle your own love affairs. Don’t you mention - the word ‘love’ to me again!” She marched out and banged the door so - violently behind her that all the brass handles on the old high-boy were - left jingling shrilly—as if the high-boy had gone into a spasm of - giggles over my comeuppance! - </p> - <p> - In a few minutes the kindly face of Dodovah Vose appeared at the door, his - eyes full of solicitude. - </p> - <p> - “Fall out of bed?” he inquired. - </p> - <p> - “No, out of heaven,” I snapped. He came in and shut the door and showed - anxiety. - </p> - <p> - “See here, son, you seem to have a turn for the worse all of a sudden. - You’ve been gaining fine. But your eyes look crazy to-day. And what you - just said—” - </p> - <p> - Say, I came nigh bawling out Dodovah Vose, right then! Nobody seemed to - know anything about my case except Kama Holstrom—and she knew too - blamed much! I rolled myself out of bed and stood on my feet. - </p> - <p> - “My Lawd!” gasped my old friend, “you mustn’t do that. It’s against her - orders. You’re sartain out of your head!” - </p> - <p> - “Don’t you worry one mite about my knob,” I shouted, cracking my scarred - knuckles against it—and the pain in the knuckles made me all the - uglier. “I’m not going to be nursed and fussed over any longer. I have - been nursed too much already. They’re even nursing my own private business—and - making it sicker all the time. From now on I’m going to tend to my own - affairs. Mr. Vose, help me get these bandages off my feet!” - </p> - <p> - He stood back and flapped his hands and protested. I knew he felt that I - had become a lunatic, and so I convinced him by walking up and giving him - a good, sane stare. - </p> - <p> - “Do you think I’m going to stay in bed the rest of my life—a man who - has so much to live for as I have?” - </p> - <p> - “That’s right—a man who is wuth—” - </p> - <p> - At last somebody was going to post me on my financial status—satisfy - my wild eagerness to find out! And I stopped him. - </p> - <p> - “Shut up,” I fairly barked. “I don’t want to be reminded of that every - five minutes. Excuse me, Mr. Vose. But get my clothes.” - </p> - <p> - I had made up my mind that only one voice in all the world should tell me - what my sacrifice had wrung from the Pacific for my own self! Silly - notion, eh? No matter. I felt that a certain pair of lips would bless the - information when it passed them. - </p> - <p> - A half-hour later I was dressed after a fashion. I walked down-stairs, or - it may be better to say that I scuffed and skated down, for I could not - squeeze my feet into shoes and was provided with a pair of Dodovah Vose’s - slippers—carpet affairs with a hectic rose on each instep. - </p> - <p> - I found Captain Holstrom on the porch with my uncle Deck; their chairs - were tipped back and they were confabbing in most amiable fashion. My - uncle grinned at me, and I floundered for words because I wasn’t sure what - I had said to him prior to my awakening or just what our diplomatic - relations were. His grin encouraged me. - </p> - <p> - “Damn it,” he ejaculated, “I’ve said right along it was best for you to be - up and around. But Cap’s girl would have it t’other way. Feel all right, - sonny?” - </p> - <p> - “I’ll feel better, Uncle Deck, if I’m sure that you and I will never have - any more misunderstandings. As we have said—” - </p> - <p> - I stopped there and waited, figuring that I had left about the right kind - of an opening to find out what we <i>had</i> said. My uncle arose and - clapped my shoulder. - </p> - <p> - “Sonny, I tell you again, now when you stand man-fashion in front of me, - that the night when I took my first trick at sitting up with you we fixed - it all! For I found out how you felt, underneath, about <i>him!</i> And - about the whole proposition!” He nudged me. “I’m taking my comfort these - days watching him. No more liberty than old Potter Crabtree’s - clay-grinding hoss—around and around in an everlasting circle. I - hope he’ll live long enough to pay his debts—that means a - considerable stretch of enjoyment for me. I wouldn’t trig his wheel for - all the world!” - </p> - <p> - That was how it stood, eh? And I let it stand, for I wasn’t just sure what - my private sentiments were in regard to Judge Kingsley at that time. - Furthermore, I had some very special business of my own on my mind. I - turned to Captain Rask. - </p> - <p> - “Where is Kama?” - </p> - <p> - “Reckon she’s over saying good-by to your girl.” - </p> - <p> - My uncle stared at me—I must have been telling him things when he - sat up with me. - </p> - <p> - Saying good-by! Then she probably had told her father that she was ready - to go away. I started across the village square, sliding along in my huge - slippers like a man walking on snow-shoes. I banged the big knocker on the - front door of Judge Kingsley’s mansion and the maid admitted me. I was not - bashful that day—I walked right into the sitting-room. - </p> - <p> - If I am any judge of expressions I did not interrupt any amiable and - confidential tête-à-tête. The two girls rose and, after a few moments of - constraint, Celene Kingsley asked me to be seated. I told her that I - preferred to stand; I reckon that I wasn’t sure that I <i>could</i> sit - down; the stiffness of the whole situation made me feel as if I did not - have any joints. - </p> - <p> - “I have finished my errand,” declared Kama. The red was in her cheeks and - there was no encouragement for me in her eyes. “I will say, Mr. Sidney, - that I have apologized to Miss Kingsley for meddling in matters between - you two. I thought I understood and I have tried to help. I deserve - exactly what I have received! I assure you both that I will keep out of - the way after this.” She started for the door, but I was standing where I - could block her. I supplemented my interference by an appeal to the lady - of the mansion. - </p> - <p> - “Will you ask Miss Holstrom to remain for a moment?” I entreated. And Miss - Holstrom did remain, biting her lower lip with impatience. - </p> - <p> - “I haven’t had much time for thinking on what to say,” I confessed. “I - don’t know how to talk to ladies very well, anyway.” - </p> - <p> - My face was flaming—I could hardly control my voice—I felt - sure that I was committing a dreadful sin in point of etiquette and all - that—but once more I was playing a big game in my life—bigger, - even, for the sake of my happiness than when I offered to go down after - the remainder of the treasure of the <i>Golden Gate</i>. I was operating - again on human nature—and that nature was in the complex little - personality of Kama Holstrom who pressed impatiently at my elbow, frowning - at me. I knew with all my heart and soul that unless she stood in the - presence of Celene Kingsley and myself—as she then stood—and - heard the truth about my boyhood folly, my cause was lost; because the - pride of a girl makes the way of a man with a maid a mighty doubtful - proposition. - </p> - <p> - “May I hope that you have found out that I am not the scoundrel you - believed me to be?” - </p> - <p> - “I know the truth now. My father is wiser! I am trying to find words—” - </p> - <p> - She hesitated, just as if she did not know what she ought to say to me, - and I could not blame her for feeling pretty uncertain. She looked at me - with a sort of kindly and tolerant expression—but, good heavens, - there wasn’t any love in her eyes! I had found out what love-light was - like when Kama Holstrom kneeled beside my bed that afternoon! - </p> - <p> - As I have confessed and have shown, I was pretty much of a blunderer in - affairs with women. But do me this credit in your estimate: I had not come - into the presence of Celene Kingsley that day harboring any more illusions - as to how I stood with her. I was awake! Think back with me! Never had she - given me a word of affection. Rather, her tolerance of me had been plainly - inspired by her zeal in her father’s behalf. After that piece of brazen - idiocy of mine, when I had taken her in my arms, she had been careful to - keep out of my reach. Allow me to say that I had been doing some swift and - coherent thinking on my way from the tavern. - </p> - <p> - In my soul was the shamed consciousness that I had been making a real - thing out of a dream—and had been babbling unwarrantably. I was a - pitiful object as I stood there between them—I deserved punishment - at the hands of both of them. For I had made free with Celene Kingsley’s - name and had misdirected Kama Holstrom’s devoted obedience to a promise. - </p> - <p> - I say, I knew with all my heart and being that I had never struck a spark - of real love from the condescending nature of Judge Kingsley’s daughter; I - knew that I loved Kama Holstrom with all the tender devotion one pours - forth to the true mate. - </p> - <p> - Yet I dared not say a word lest I should appear as an atrocious cad - seeking release from the old love before taking on the new. - </p> - <p> - Equally did Celene Kingsley’s high-bred delicacy restrain her tongue; I - understood that she did not want to betray me as a mere cheeky boaster. - </p> - <p> - So we stood there looking at one another, three as unhappy specimens of - humanity as there were in Levant that day. - </p> - <p> - “I am too much of a fool to know what to say and how to say it,” I - blurted, and the tears ran down my cheeks. - </p> - <p> - It was Celene who stepped into the breach; she wasn’t in love, and she was - cooler than the other two in the party. - </p> - <p> - She walked up to Kama and took her hands in caressing grasp. - </p> - <p> - “Don’t you understand, dear?” - </p> - <p> - “No,” faltered the poor girl. - </p> - <p> - “I hoped you could understand without obliging me to speak. I hoped you - would guess when I refused to discuss certain matters with you—I - made you angry, and I’m sorry.” - </p> - <p> - “I know I meddled—” - </p> - <p> - “My dear, I understood you all the time! I understood my old school - friend, too!” She reached out her hand and drew me close to Kama. “He has - been very noble in his help in a great trial in my family, dear! I owe my - happiness to him. And I’m speaking out, rather boldly—rather - bluntly, because I want to help him in obtaining his great happiness. I - know what must happen to make him happy.” She put Kama’s hand in mine. - “Now, my dear, do not force me to disparage one of the best young men I - have ever known by telling you that I never dreamed of him as a husband—nor - was I anything else to him except a school-day fancy, a—” - </p> - <p> - “An inspiration to set me on the way to make something of myself,” I - insisted. - </p> - <p> - “And now—say it, Ross Sidney, or you’re a coward—say it, and - let me hear it! She deserves it!” - </p> - <p> - “I have found out that real love differs from boyhood fancies—and I—I—want - to—” - </p> - <p> - She gently pushed us toward the door while I was stammering. - </p> - <p> - “You want to tell a dear girl the sweetest story in the world, Ross - Sidney! My blessing on you both. Good night!” - </p> - <p> - We did not speak to each other for some time after we were out of doors - together. I took her arm in gentle manner and led her steps away from the - tavern. We could see its lights in the early dusk, and I wanted to keep - away from lights for a time. - </p> - <p> - I was glad the autumn dusk had settled—a sliver of new moon was a - comforting sight for a lover. - </p> - <p> - “I guess neither of us knows very well how to talk about love, Kama,” I - told her, hobbling along beside her as best I could. The judge’s orchard - was shaded by the evening’s gloom, and when I turned down there she did - not resist. - </p> - <p> - “I’m sure I’m mighty awkward about making love,” I went on, “but God knows - I want to learn how.” - </p> - <p> - “Why do you think I can do any better as a tutor in love than as an - attorney?” she asked. - </p> - <p> - “Because I’ll be such a willing pupil, dear.” - </p> - <p> - “I heard you inform Miss Kingsley with a great deal of earnestness just - now that you have found out what real love is like.” She couldn’t keep all - the naughty teasing from her tone, though her voice trembled. “Who is the - fortunate one?” - </p> - <p> - Then I caught her to me, and with her warm cheek close to mine and her - lips near and never denying caresses, I told her and I convinced her. - </p> - <p> - “I think,” she admitted, after a long time and after many words there in - the blessed shadows, “that you are entitled to your diploma, Ross. You are - showing me that you know more than your tutor. But is there a woman who is - not jealous when she is in love? Here!” She pressed into my hand a little - packet; it contained the three rings. I drew her along to the cleft tree. - I dropped them into the hollow. - </p> - <p> - “One for fancy, one for folly, one for the freakish dreams of boyhood!” I - told her. “All buried! Come back to the tavern, precious girl! I want you - to tell Dodovah Vose how to decorate the parlor for the wedding!” - </p> - <p> - She reached on tiptoe and plucked two apples from the old tree. She gave - one to me. - </p> - <p> - “An apple of gold from the only woman in the world,” I said. - </p> - <p> - “Don’t say ‘gold’ to me, Ross! Don’t! A boy of your age with half a - million safe in the bank—” - </p> - <p> - There was my news at last! I kissed the lips which told me! - </p> - <p> - Then, eating the sweet fruit of our new knowledge of life and of each - other, we went on our way up through the whispering trees toward the - welcoming, glowing windows of the old tavern. - </p> - <h3> - THE END - </h3> - <div style="height: 6em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Where Your Treasure Is, by Holman Day - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHERE YOUR TREASURE IS *** - -***** This file should be named 55360-h.htm or 55360-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/5/3/6/55360/ - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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