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The Mesa Trail Part 13

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However, it is these vague impulses which often lead men upon the trail of fate, and thus it proved with Thady Shea.

He left the note upon the table, and with it the indorsed check and legally phrased paper, knowing that these would in some measure make matters clear to Mrs. Crump. Then he procured that lady's whiskey and poured a generous portion into a tin cup. This time, he deliberately smelled of it, and smiled grimly. Mrs. Crump kept on hand a vial of laudanum for the sake of recurrent toothache, and from this vial he dropped a little of the drug into the whiskey.

"Friend Dorales will sleep to-night, methinks," he said to the staring native captive. "Lift up his head!"

The native picked up the head and shoulders of the still senseless Dorales. Forcing open the thin, strong lips, Shea poured his mixture into the man's mouth. Dorales choked, but swallowed it and began to revive.

Shea packed his few belongings, regretfully left the historic axe helve for Mrs. Crump, then motioned his prisoner to help him lift Dorales. The latter was now swearing luridly but feebly. Together they carried him out into the darkness.



Ten minutes later Dorales was snoring in the tonneau of Mackintavers'

flivver, beside the injured native. By the light of the lamps, the uninjured captive was working under the directions of Shea, who had realized that upon reaching home Mrs. Crump would be unable to use her own car without tires.

So Shea stripped the enemy car, left the tires beside the dust-white flivver, and then climbed into his captured vehicle. Having disarmed his conquered foemen, he had nothing to fear from them, and headed his b.u.mpy equipage toward No Agua. When the canon road warned him that he was close to that lone hovel of desolation, he stopped the car and took from his pocket Mrs. Crump's flask into which he had emptied the laudanum vial. He turned to the two natives, one of whom was groaning and s.h.i.+vering, the other merely s.h.i.+vering.

"Friends," he said, sonorously, "drink-or take the consequences."

Knowing from the example of Abel Dorales that the flask contained nothing worse than sleep, mingled with liquor, the two natives drank the contents with avidity. Shea tossed away the empty flask, envy in his eye; he wanted a drink very badly-but he did not want one badly enough to take it.

Pa.s.sing the No Agua store with a rattle and clatter, Shea considered swiftly. If he went south to Silver City he might meet Mrs. Crump, and he had no desire to meet her at present. If he went west, he would get into Arizona. All he knew about Arizona was founded upon the drama of that name; the prospect of being scalped by Apaches or otherwise mutilated did not invite his soul particularly.

So he turned east to Zacaton City, confident that he could pa.s.s through that nest of enemies before dawn, and with a vague scheme already in his mind. All he wanted was to get clear away, and he mentally blessed that vial of laudanum.

It was shortly before dawn when the snoring mechanic in Aimes' garage was awakened by a tall, gaunt stranger.

"Friend," said Shea to the yawning mechanic, "in this my vehicle behold three villains, scoundrels of the deepest dye! But yesternight they tried to jump my claim, wherefore I laid them by the heels, and charge you, upon your honest visage, guard them well until the sheriff shall appear to claim them."

After some repet.i.tion the astonished mechanic gathered that this gaunt stranger had brought in three claim jumpers to be held until the sheriff arrived. Not having partic.i.p.ated in the events of Sunday morning, the mechanic was blissfully ignorant of Shea's ident.i.ty, and Thady had no intention of disclosing it. Despite protest, Shea left the crippled flivver in the garage, the three snoring occupants being obviously safe for another twenty-four hours. Having been carefully dirtied and disguised by Dorales himself, the flivver was not recognized immediately as that of Sandy Mackintavers.

These things successfully accomplished, Thady Shea faded into the gray dawn. For lack of better direction, he took the rough and rugged road that led off to Datil and the transcontinental highway into Magdalena.

He had no illusions about arrest not being probable in _this_ case, and he desired to avoid arrest.

Zacaton City was ere long in a roar of half-wrathful enjoyment. The three "claim jumpers," who slept like the dead and refused to be awakened, were soon known as Abel Dorales, tied hand and foot, and two natives from the Mackintavers ranch, one having a broken arm. The garage mechanic's description of Thady Shea was accurate and recognizable.

Details were lacking and could not be obtained until the drugged men awakened-but details were largely unnecessary.

Ben Aimes did not telephone to Mackintavers at the ranch; at the time, this seemed a rather superfluous detail. The news bearer would have a thankless and possibly dangerous job, so Ben Aimes left Mackintavers alone, and left Dorales to tell the sorry tale in person. However, Aimes swore out warrants charging battery and other things, and sent automobiles forth to bring in Thady Shea.

Him they did not find; but they went as far as Magdalena, spreading the story as they progressed. Within three days, this immediate section of the state was in a roar of laughter; Dorales had a reputation as "the worst man to monkey with" in existence. Added to the joke was the story of Thady Shea and the axe helve, which travelled fast and far. Neither story reached the Mackintavers ranch fast enough, however.

On the afternoon following Thady Shea's desertion of Number Sixteen, Mrs. Crump arrived there in a hired car from Silver City. She came alone; Gilbert and Lewis were in jail awaiting bail, and she came only to make sure that Number Sixteen had escaped the ravishers.

By this time Mrs. Crump knew all about what had happened to Thady Shea in Zacaton City, and how the disaster had come upon her, but she had made no comments. At the shack, she found the papers which Thady Shea had left. She read his note, and muttered something about "d.a.m.ned fool."

Then she took the check which he had indorsed, returned to her hired car, and before midnight was back in Silver City.

At nine the next morning the Silver City bank telephoned Sandy Mackintavers over long distance regarding a check for ten thousand dollars issued to one Thady Shea, and properly indorsed, which had been presented for payment by Mrs. Crump. Promptly and delightedly Mackintavers gave it his O. K. Quite naturally, he considered that Abel Dorales had carried his mission to success, and that Number Sixteen now belonged to the Empire State Chemical Company.

But that evening, when Dorales arrived with new tires on the flivver, Mackintavers learned what had really taken place. Then he telephoned to Silver City in all haste, only to find that he was out ten thousand big round dollars. He had gambled, and he had lost his stake.

Dorales spent a most unpleasant evening. Despite everything, even the monetary loss, which rankled to the very bottom of his soul, Mackintavers had a deep grain of humour. This was the first time he had ever known Abel Dorales to be put absolutely down and out; he gave his humour full vent until Dorales, who had no humour whatever, writhed under the lash.

"It's your loss most of all," growled Dorales, white lipped and venomous.

"Aiblins, yes." Mackintavers fell grave. "We'll leave Mrs. Crump alone for the present; never fear, I'll get that money back, with interest!

I've a scheme in the back of my head that will work on her a bit later.

Are ye going to hide out till the laughing's done with?"

"Hide-h.e.l.l!" snarled Dorales, viciously. "The first man that laughs to my face, except you, gets something to remember. And," he added, slowly, "I'm not so sure about excepting you, Sandy."

"There, there, cannot ye take a joke?" returned Mackintavers, hastily.

"I've suffered the most, but leave Mrs. Crump be for the present. I want to get the matter o' those stone idols settled, and under cover o' the noise it will make when I become a scientist, then we'll take over this strontianite mine.

"I want ye to go up to Santa Fe, and get a big sack o' silver dollars.

I've me eye on two or three o' them Cochiti redskins and I think ye can bribe 'em. If--"

"What about this man Shea?" snapped Dorales. "I'm going to get him if it takes me ten years! I'm going to write my name in his hide with a knife!"

"Ye shall; he'll be here when ye get back from Santa Fe," soothed Mackintavers. "He can't hide out long, Abel. I'll have him held for ye."

"You'd better," said the other, sourly. "I don't like wasting time on these idols, anyway. I never knew any good to come of bothering the Indian G.o.ds, Sandy."

Mackintavers only laughed, although not without a frown to follow the laugh. He was wondering if the presence of those G.o.ds in his house had brought him the loss of ten thousand dollars. He was the last man on earth to let superst.i.tion alter his plans; yet he was Scottish, and he could not help wondering-just a little.

CHAPTER IX-THE WICKER DEMIJOHN

As has been related, Thady Shea somewhat vaguely set out upon the way to Magdalena, after disposing of his shoeless flivver and its snoring load.

The dawn came up and found him plodding onward. An hour later he was hailed from the roadside by a venerable ancient having one very blue eye and a long white beard. This worthy proved to be a tramp printer, who intended to get work at Magdalena when his money gave out.

For the present, however, the ancient had no intention of working; so he proposed a road partners.h.i.+p, stating that he liked Shea's looks. Thady Shea wanted to sleep, which "Dad" Griffith, as the ancient was named, deemed a highly laudable ambition.

Accordingly, a little while afterward, Shea found himself snugly ensconced in a camp well back from the road and well hidden in a clump of trees. Before sleeping, he explored his pockets and found some money, left from the sum given him by Mrs. Crump for his Zacaton City purchases.

"Take it, friend," he said, drowsily, thrusting the money upon the ancient. "Take it, and add it to thy scanty store, that so we may have wherewithal to live."

"You bet I will, partner," and Dad Griffith seized it. "It'll keep us quite a spell, with what I got. No sense workin', I says, when they's no need. I figger on gettin' a job to Magdalena when I got to work. I had a job there two year ago. These here goshly-gorful linotypes is puttin'

honest printers out o' business. Why, I seen th' day--"

In the midst of a dissertation upon the elegancies of hand-set type and the blasted frightfulness of an existence surrounded by linotype machines, Shea stretched out and fell asleep. The ancient droned along, regardless. When Shea wakened toward sunset, old Griffith was still discoursing upon the same topic.

Over a tiny smokeless fire Griffith conjured biscuits, coffee, and beans, and the two men ate. Thady Shea probed his companion's mind for future plans, and found only a vague emptiness; the ancient liked to spend each night in a different spot, that was all. Thady Shea proposed, with pursuit in mind, that it might be better to camp during the day and to tramp at night.

At this suggestion the ancient winked his one intensely blue eye. He winked with the uncanny gusto of an old man, with the horrible craftiness of an old man. His one eye winked, and the ancient was transformed. He became an emblem of doddering truancy, a living symbol of the soul which desires ever to flee responsibilities and to s.h.i.+rk the onus of labour inherited from Father Adam.

"Suits me, pardner. I used to do that over in Missouri, one time, 'count of a hawg bein' missed from a pen. Anyhow, these nights is too cold to sleep 'thout blankets, which mine ain't extra good.

"Still, a spry young feller like you, Thady, ought to have more get up an' get to him than to be gettin' in a mess o' trouble. Take a goshly-gorful old ranger like me, and it's all right; I'm a sinful man, an' proud of it. But you, now-you'd ought to be aimin' for something. I know, I do! That's the trouble with folks; ain't got no aim ahead. But no use talkin'. You got your reasons, I reckon."

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The Mesa Trail Part 13 summary

You're reading The Mesa Trail. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): H. Bedford Jones. Already has 565 views.

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