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diff --git a/old/66044-0.txt b/old/66044-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 7d7370f..0000000 --- a/old/66044-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,885 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Cinders, by W. C. Tuttle - -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 -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Cinders - -Author: W. C. Tuttle - -Release Date: August 11, 2021 [eBook #66044] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Roger Frank and Sue Clark - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CINDERS *** - -[Illustration: Cinders] - - - -CINDERS - -by W. C. Tuttle - -Author of “Just for a Laugh,” “Sun-Dog Loot,” etc. - - -James Worthington Steele was a man of importance. In the affairs of the -C. M. & G. Railroad he was _E pluribus unum_, XXXX, bottled in bond; -which is quite some label in these Volsteadian days. - -To Mrs. James Worthington Steele, a lady of great avoirdupois, he was a -fair pinochle player. Not good—just fair. To Alicia Worthington, the -daughter, he was something to depend upon in a financial way. - -Alicia might be branded a vampire. Not that Alicia was bad. Oh, dear, -no—not at all. But she knew that she was pretty, had wicked eyes and -wore beautiful creations. Alicia would scorn to wear just clothes. - -But even an important railroad magnate hankers for the untrammeled -spaces of the great outdoors at times; and this was why James -Worthington Steele’s private car, the Lake Louise, was parked near a -California lake, where the trout jumped almost off the pages of the -railroad folders. - -And it was here that a message came to James Worthington Steele, -advising that he come at once to straighten out a tangle, which greatly -affected the interests of his company. Unfortunately the passenger -service on this particular branch of the C. M. & G. was not too good. -The train had left about thirty minutes prior to the telegram; so it was -up to James Worthington Steele to have the Lake Louise hooked to the -rear end of a freight train, which would take him out to the main line. -This especial freight train seemed to have been made up of all the -decrepit rolling-stock owned by the aforementioned railroad; so their -progress was not very swift. - -And it was hot in the Lake Louise. To make matters worse for James -Worthington Steele, Mrs. Steele insisted that they play pinochle. And -when Mrs. Steele insisted, there was nothing for James Worthington to do -but agree. - -Alicia was bored to distraction. This was not her idea of a good time. -She had been communing with nature too long for one of her disposition. -She wanted some one to make eyes at, except a perspiring brakeman, who -swore openly at everything connected with the railroad business. - -And with everybody in this pleasant mood, the train jerked to a stop at -the station of San Rego. The train drew up far enough for the -observation platform of the Lake Louise to stop midway of the station -platform. Alicia lolled in an easy chair, mumbled at some sodden -chocolates and wished she was far away from San Rego. - -Suddenly she sat up. - - * * * * * - -But that is getting along too far in the story. “Slim” Simpson weighed -exactly two hundred and twenty pounds. He was twenty-two years of -age—and in love. He had been a perfectly good cowpuncher until the -love-bug inoculated his emaciated form; but now he was worthless for -anything—except love. - -Sadie Thompson was the maid of his choice. Sadie’s pa was proprietor, or -rather station-agent at San Rego. He owned a little home on the -outskirts of San Rego, with honeysuckle, or something like that, around -the door. - -Sadie was of a jealous and suspicious nature, and she had a sneaking -idea that Slim had danced too many times with the school teacher the -night before. Anyway, she told Slim that she wouldn’t divide him up with -any woman, even if there was enough of him to divide. - -Poor Slim had poked his nose to the sky and wailingly assured her that -he was “her’n, and only her’n.” But Sadie parted the honeysuckles, or -whatever grew about the porch, and sent Slim uptown, pawing his way -through a haze of indigo blue. - -Slim didn’t want a drink; he wanted solitude. And where may a man find -more assorted kinds of solitude than on the heat scourged planks of a -desert depot. He made up his mind to be a martyr—and melt. - -But at the depot he ran into Jim Hilton and Barney McGonigle from the -Lazy B ranch. They were trying to dig up enough money to pay for an -express package, which had come C. O. D. They greeted him warmly and -borrowed a dollar and eighty cents. - -It was at this time that the freight train pulled in. Jim and Barney -went outside, carrying their package, and got one look at Alicia. Slim -was resting his elbows on the ledge of the ticket window, when Barney -tiptoed back inside and nudged Slim. - -“C’mere,” he whispered sotto voce. “My ——, Slim, the Queen of Sheber is -among us. C’mon.” - -Slim followed. Who wouldn’t? Alicia had sat up. The box of soggy -chocolates were forgotten. Here was raw material for her to work on. -Back in the car she heard her mother say— - -“Hundred aces and a hundred and fifty trump.” - -Slim moved closer. From the front end of the train came the clatter of -couplers as the engine moved ahead. Slim moved closer. Just before the -Lake Louise obeyed the impulse of the engine, Alicia’s left eyelid drew -down in an unmistakable wink—a very expressive wink. - -Barney exploded and clung weakly to Jim Hilton. Slim did not turn his -head, but walked slowly to the far edge of the platform, following the -departing train. But Alicia did not wink again. She picked up her book, -dipped into the chocolates and faded out in the distance. - -Slim sighed, turned around and looked into the face of Sadie Thompson. -He shuddered. Barney and Jim were watching them. - -“So that’s the way you put in your time, is it?” demanded Sadie. -“Flirting with every girl you see, eh?” - -“I—I wasn’t flirtin’,” denied Slim. “My gosh, Sadie, I never——” - -“Yes?” Sadie grew sarcastic. “Didn’t I see that wink? Here!” - -She tugged at the third finger of her left hand and gave him back his -ring. - -“I’m all through with you,” she declared chokingly. “I will never trust -a man again. Take back your fickle ring.” - -Sadie turned and hurried toward home, while behind her came Slim, -looking all spraddled out, as he tried to catch her and explain. But -Sadie walked erratically down the narrow sidewalk, which kept Slim -jumping from side to side; much to the amusement of every one who -observed it. - -Sadie beat him to the gate, fastened it from the inside, and faced him—a -picture of outraged womanhood. - -“Go back!” Sadie pointed dramatically. “Get on your horse and follow the -maid. I want no more of you!” - -Slim went. There was no good reason why he should stay. Back there on -the sunny side of the depot, where the thermometer registered one -hundred and ten degrees in the shade, Slim sat in the sun, and cogitated -over the vagaries of women. - -The incident passed from the mind of Alicia Steele. It was only one wink -among many. If her wink brought a thrill to that fat cowboy, he was -welcome to it. Two miles out of San Rego the train lurched to another -stop. - - * * * * * - -Half an hour later the conductor, perspiring, dusty, came to the Lake -Louise and informed James Worthington Steele that half the axle-boxes on -the train were on fire, and they would have to be delayed another hour. - -James Worthington Steele mopped his brow and swore. It was imperative -that he move on. - -“Can’t be did,” declared the conductor. “It’s ten miles to Mesquite -City, and ten more to the Mission Junction. I’m afraid you won’t be able -to hook this car on to No. 117. They are due there in thirty minutes.” - -James Worthington Steele was a good railroad man; so he did not rave. He -knew just how bad most of their rolling-stock was. But he must at least -get a message through; so the conductor ran a wire from the Lake Louise, -tapped the telegraph, and let James Worthington Steele send his own -messages. - -Be it known that James Worthington Steele had at one time been a -dispatcher on this same road; so it was no trouble for him to handle his -correspondence via wire, through the medium of his own private telegraph -instrument, which had long since been part of the Lake Louise’s -equipment. - -After proving an alibi for not being able to attend the important -meeting, which he managed to postpone, he went back to his game of -pinochle. Not that he wanted to play; but his wife did. - -The instrument clacked merrily away, and excited the interest of Alicia, -who was becoming more bored each moment. On the polished mahogany table -was a code book, containing the station calls, codes, etc., and on the -fly-leaf was printed the Morse code of telegraphy. - -Alicia glanced over it, and the code, with its dots and dashes, -attracted her. She scanned the pages for San Rego. The station call was -SR. Looking back at the code, she found the two letters. She had seen -her father use it many times; so what could be easier? - -She sat down, opened the key and began laboriously to tap out the SR -signal. Several times she repeated it, before closing the key. The -sounder rattled, as the operator at San Rego answered his call. Alicia -had no idea what he was saying, but she had an idea of what she was -going to say. Her ennui was all gone now. - -Back in the hot little depot at San Rego, old Bill Thompson, the father -of Sadie, squinted at the sounder of his instrument, a scowl on his -face, as it began slowly ticking out a message. - -“H-e-l-p,h-e-l-p,h-e-l-p.” - -The dots, dashes and spaces were not the work of a telegrapher. The -agent cut open his key and wanted to know who in the blankety-blank was -using that instrument. - -But still it continued to tap out the one word. The agent bit down on -his pipestem and swore to himself. Then the sounder awoke anew. - -“H-e-l-p h-o-l-d-u-p p-r-i-v-a-t-e c-a-r h-e-l-p.” - -The agent snapped to his feet. He had seen the private car at the rear -of that freight, and he knew well who James Worthington Steele was. -There was a holdup. Some one was robbing the private car! - -He opened his key and called Mesquite City. Had the freight reached -there? It had not. The agent asked him if he had heard the call for -help. - -“Been out to eat,” replied the Mesquite operator. “Heard J. W. Steele -sending before I left. The freight is stuck about two miles from San -Rego.” - -The agent whirled from his desk and ran outside. Around the corner he -went and almost fell over Slim, who grunted and got to his feet. The -agent was a quick thinker. - -“Slim, where’s your horse?” - -“Right there.” Slim pointed at a long-legged sorrel, tied to a ring in -the rear platform. “What’s the matter?” - -“Did you see that private car on that freight that——” - -“Yeah, I seen it.” Slim was sarcastic. - -“Down the track about two miles!” panted the agent. “It’s being held up. -Just got a wire.” - -“Oh, yeah.” - -Slim squinted at the agent. It might be a joke, but the man seemed in -earnest. “Slim, that’s Steele, the biggest railroad man in this country; -owns this —— railroad and more too. Can’t yuh go and help ’em?” - -But Slim was halfway to the sorrel, running as fast as he could go. The -agent ran back, opened his key and sent an assurance that help was -coming. - -“What are you kidding about?” demanded the operator at Mesquite City. - -Swiftly the San Rego agent told him about the holdup. Mesquite City was -the county seat. - -“Shall I notify the sheriff?” asked Mesquite City. - -The San Rego operator started in to tell him what to do, when the door -opened behind him and Sadie came in. He glanced at her and turned back -to his key. - -“Dad, where is Slim going?” asked Sadie. - -Dad broke off sending. - -“He’s following that freight.” - -Then Dad turned and hammered out instructions. - -“Where is that freight?” Sadie was outwardly calm, but her face had gone -white. Slim was following out her instructions. - -“Two miles down the road,” said Dad, and continued to hammer at his key. - -Sadie fairly ran out of the office and around to where her roan horse -was tied. She had seen Slim going away in a cloud of dust, which had not -yet settled. In a few moments she was adding to the dust cloud, -following Slim. - - * * * * * - -“Soup” Lannigan was not a gentleman—not by at least a generation or two. -He was a yegg, pure but not at all simple. Just now he slid back the -door of a freight car, wiped a little coal dust off his face and looked -around. Soup was not at all handsome. He was about five feet seven -inches tall, with broad shoulders, almost no neck, and a pair of long -muscular arms. His forehead retreated while his jaw protruded. If a -scientist were to discover Soup’s skull—it would date back at least -twenty thousand years. - -It was hot in that box car, but it was also hot outside. Soup was -thirsty. He squinted back past the caboose, looking around like an -animal. Then he rubbed his eyes. Even at two cars distant his eyes -beheld a white-clad arm appear and toss a couple of bottles into the -sage. - -Soup wrinkled his forehead in deep thought. He knew that there were no -dining-cars on freight trains. He also knew that this caboose did not -carry a white-clad porter. Soup swung warily down, edged away from the -car and squinted at the shiny private car. Then he ducked back. - -There was nothing to cause Soup to duck back, except, like an animal, he -was always expecting something to happen. Then he crawled under the -train. Ten cars distant he could see the crew working over a hotbox. He -scuttled back. Just back of the private car was a sharp curve, and Soup -was wise enough in railroad matters to know that the rear brakeman would -be beyond that turn, flagging the rear. - -Soup licked his lips, gripped the stubby automatic in his sagging coat -pocket, and went softly back to the platform of the Lake Louise. He felt -sure that there would be more cold bottles; and he was not averse to -taking most anything of value. - - * * * * * - -The telegraph instrument did not amuse Alicia for long. She was unable -to decipher anything it said, because it clicked too fast; so she sank -down in a deep, leather chair, picked up her book and began reading. The -air off the desert was like a blast from a furnace. Two electric fans -droned softly, but did little more than stir up the heat. - -In his own end of the car, where an ice box and other luxuries of -private-car life were carried, Moses Jones, an elongated, shuffling son -of Ham, proceeded to uncork two more bottles. Mose was immaculate, but -very moist. - -Mose picked up his tray, containing glasses and the two cold bottles, -stepped into the corridor just in time to feel the swift jab of Soup’s -automatic into his white-clad ribs. - -Mose almost telescoped under the strain, and he elevated his tray until -the bottles almost hit the ceiling. - -“Yuh—yuh—yessah!” grunted Mose. - -“Yeah, bo!” replied Soup. “Squeak once and you’re done.” - -“N-n-nosah,” whispered Mose. - -“Yessir,” nodded Soup. “Move on, nigger.” - -Straight into the privacy of the Steele family came Mose and Soup; and -the first hint of something wrong was when one of the bottles fell from -its dizzy height, landed in the middle of the card table and shot its -agitated contents into the face of James Worthington Steele. - -“What the ——?” Thus said James Worthington Steele, pawing the suds out -of his eyes. - -It was then that Mose Jones side-stepped and gave them an unobstructed -view of Soup Lannigan, who was enjoying himself hugely. - -“Don’t yelp,” advised Soup coldly. “C’mere, you!” - -He meant Alicia. She came. The combination of automatic and Soup’s face -was enough to cow any one. Alicia sank into one of the seats and stared -at Soup. - -“Kinda pretty,” observed Soup appreciatively. “Gimme the sparks, kid. -You too—” turning to Mrs. Steele—“hand over them rings. Shell out your -money and make it fast. I ain’t got all day. C’mon! What the —— do yuh -think this is; a lecture?” - -They shelled. Soup held out his battered cap for the spoils and his eyes -glittered. The hunting was much better than he anticipated. Mose Jones -rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall, while his legs fairly -twitched for a chance to run. - -Far down the line the engine whistle signaled for the rear flagman to -come in. Soup backed toward the rear door, his automatic covering the -two men and two women. - -“T’anks, folks,” he said. “I’ll be on me way now.” - -He laughed mockingly and backed into a man, who had come through the -rear door, filling the passageway with his bulk. Soup spun around, tried -to use his automatic, but this hulk of a man tore it from his hand, -threw it out of the window and proceeded to mop up the open space with -the luckless Soup. - -Soup was no coward. He had fought many fights; but this fat person; who -wore flapping leather chaps, spurs and a heavy belt, did not give him a -chance. The cap, which contained the loot, went flying under a chair, -when Slim Simpson got Soup by the legs, handling him like a wheelbarrow, -and rammed him viciously into the underpinning of a heavy chair. - -Soup went limp. Slim tossed Soup’s legs aside, as if he had no further -use for them, and stared at Alicia. Came the “bump” of some one boarding -the car, and Sadie came in. Her face was streaked with dust, but in her -eyes was a great resolve. She wasn’t going to lose Slim Simpson, not -without a battle. Slim gawped at her and waved his arms weakly. - -“Huh—hello, Sadie,” he panted, and then turned to the dazed Alicia. - -“You—you tell her,” he said dramatically, pointing at Sadie. “You tell -huh-her about that wink. Hurry up, can’tcha?” - -“The—that wink?” faltered Alicia wonderingly. - -“You winked at me?” queried the perspiring Slim. “Back there at the -depot, you winked.” - -“At you?” Alicia shook her head. “No. I—I didn’t. It was a cinder in my -eye.” - -“Now, yuh see?” Slim was triumphant. - -“Do yuh see——” - -But just at that moment Soup Lannigan decided that it was a mighty good -time for him to leave. He jumped to his feet, knocked Sadie aside and -darted out of the rear door. - -“Gosh ding him, he didn’t stay dead!” blurted Slim; and out of the door -he went. - -Soup Lannigan, running like a rabbit, was heading for the brushy hills, -when Slim went into his saddle, shook out his rope and gave chase. And -Sadie was not far behind him. - -Straight up over a brushy slope galloped Soup, bending every effort to -gain deeper cover, while behind him pounded two running horses; and now -he could hear the swish of a whirling loop. Again the engine whistled, -as if cheering them on. - - * * * * * - -Down through a gully went Soup, where Slim was forced to detour; but a -few moments later he was chased on to the next slope. For ten minutes -they played hide-and-seek; but the hard riding cowboy won, when Soup -essayed to cross a fifty foot stretch of open country to gain a mesquite -patch. - -The loop caught Soup in mid-air and brought him down on his neck in a -cat-claw bush. - -The jerk of the rope knocked all the fight out of the hard-faced yegg, -who was content to lie there and goggle at the sky. Slim kept the rope -tight and waited for Sadie to join him. - -“What are you goin’ to do with him, Slim?” asked Sadie. - -“Huh! I dunno. Prob’ly turn him over to them folks.” - -“Did you know it was a holdup, Slim, dear?” asked Sadie. - -“Shore. Didn’t you know it? Somebody wired to yore dad at San Rego, -tellin’ him that there was a holdup.” - -Soup Lannigan sat up, staring blankly. Some one had wired about the -holdup? His little eyes batted violently. - -“Get up,” ordered Slim. - -Soup got up, his arms pinned to his sides. - -“Vamoose toward the train, _hombre_.” - -Soup knew better than to argue. It was quite a way back to the train, -but Soup led the way, his head hanging with weariness, while behind him -came Slim and Sadie, riding close together. Over the brow of the hill -they came—and stopped. - -There was no train! - -“It has went!” exclaimed Slim. “Whatcha know about that?” - -From a mile or so away came the whistle of the freight, as it clattered -its way on to Mesquite City. - -“They didn’t wait for us,” complained Slim. - -“We don’t care, do we?” asked Sadie softly. - -Slim looked at her and a grin twisted his lips. - -“Yuh see how it was, don’tcha, Sadie?” he asked. “It was jist a cinder. -The wind jist blowed a cinder back with the smoke and it got in her eye. -That’s all it was.” - -“I—I know it, Slimmie. I was to blame. I—I—it looked just like a wink, -you see.” - -“Yeah, it did,” admitted Slim. “But I knowed that it wasn’t, Sadie.” - -“Well, I’m glad we found out,” said Sadie, sighing with relief. “Let’s -go home, Slimmie. Ma’s got apple pie for supper.” - -“What about me?” asked Soup painfully. - -“You?” Slim twitched the rope and the loop fell around the feet of the -yegg. - -“Yeah—about me?” Thus Soup anxiously. - -“You don’t interest me none,” declared Slim. “Step out of that loop and -rattle yore hocks out of here; _sabe_?” - -Soup did. He ran all the way to the track, where he began counting ties -toward Mesquite City. He stopped and looked back. Slim and Sadie were -heading back toward San Rego, riding very close together. - -Soup Lannigan dug out a very limp sack of tobacco and a crumpled cigaret -paper. - -“Don’t it beat ——?” he asked the wide world, as he carefully rolled a -smoke. “Don’t it beat —— a mile? I don’t know what it was all about, but -I got a laugh out of that cinder that come back with the smoke. - -“This —— road burns oil!” - -THE END - - -[Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in the December 10, 1924 issue -of _Adventure_ magazine.] - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CINDERS *** - -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. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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