"Say, mister, you ever wiped anybody out with those?" he presently blurted out.
Sudden's smile faded. "Do I look like a killer?" he fenced. "I'm allowin' you don't," was the reply. "But if you was riled, I'd step around mighty careful."
"Shet yore trap," his father ordered, and, apologetically to his guest, "Dunno what kids is comin' to; if I'd spoke out like that in company my of man would have had the hide off'n me. So you won't trail along with us to Oregon?" Sudden shook his head. "I got other plans," he excused. When he returned to his own outfit, Mason was mildly facetious. "What was it yu forgot?" he inquired, and grinned at his friend's look of bewilderment. "Yu must 'a' gone back to Wayside for somethin'." Sudden joined in the laugh at his own expense. "Nigger's a good hoss but he ain't got wings," he said. "I've been makin' the acquaintance of yore friend with the barrel-hoop legs."
"What, Bandy?" Mason asked.
"He certainly is. I never met anyone whose knees were such total strangers."
"How come?" Sudden told the story in his own whimsical fashion, passing lightly over his part in it, but Gerry was beginning to know this habit of careless indifference.
"An' he ate crow?" he said incredulously. "I s'pose he ain't exactly in love with yu?"
"I'm afraid I hurt his feelin's," Sudden said, an unrepentant twinkle in his eyes, and then he sobered. "I should 'a' warned yu, Gerry, that I'm one o' 0I' Man Trouble's special favourites; yu oughta cut loose from me."
"Like hell!" came the hearty rejoinder. "I didn't come West to pick flowers an'--there's Miss Ducane." There was a reverence in the boy's tone as he spoke the name which swept the good-natured jest from the other's lips. He liked this frank-faced young fellow whose companionship meant much to a lonely, friendless man. For since he had come North, unjustly driven as an outlaw from his own country, Texas, his quixotic search had kept him moving and he could form no ties.
Chapter V
Deadwood! One narrow street, formed by irregular rows of nondescript buildings of the crudest character, the most pretentious of which were constructed of unbarked logs or roughly sawn boards; a few boasted two storeys, others had the false front so prevalent in frontier settlements, but for the most part the shack and dug-out predominated.
At a first glance the town appeared to consist almost entirely of saloons and gambling dives, with a few stores intermingled, but closer inspection revealed hotels, boarding and eating-houses. Plank sidewalks protected the pedestrian from the roadway--if the almost knee-deep strip of dust, which after rain became a morass of mud--could be so-called. Stumps of trees, boulders, and piles of lumber impeded progress and testified to the feverish haste to which the place owed its being.
The population was as varied as the architecture. Men of every colour, white, yellow, bronze and black, thronged the sidewalks; blue-shirted, bare-throated, bearded miners, their homespun trousers thrust into the tops of their boots, gaily-sashed Mexicans, slant-eyed Chinamen, and occasionally, a plumed Indian, wrapped in his gaudy blanket, dignified, aloof, unreadable. In the road itself, wagons drawn by patient-eyed oxen and piloted by perspiring, vitriolic-tongued drivers ploughed up clouds of fine dust to the extreme discomfort of passers-by. Overhead, in a pale blue sky, the sun blazed.
Into this welter of humanity the new-comers plunged and were at once submerged. Sudden and his friend arrived at one end of the street and Gerry prepared to dismount at the first saloon.
"That can wait," Sudden said. "First we gotta find out where we live." Having left their mounts at a livery stable, they emerged into the street again in time to witness a curious scene. A bent old man, clad in a shabby black coat, was retreating before a group of young roughs who were pelting him with stones and refuse. There was something of dignity in the victim's silence, but Sudden caught a look of appeal in the dark eyes.
"What's the old fella done?" he asked a red-headed youth who appeared to be the ringleader.
"How long you bin peace-officer?" came the impudent retort, shot over a shoulder.
Sudden's long arm reached out and swung the speaker round. "I ain't," he said quietly, "but when I ask a civil question I expect the same sort o' answer." Red-hair's hand had gone to his waistband, where the butt of a gun protruded, but fell away when he saw the type of man he had to deal with. This cold-eyed person who wore two weapons might be a cowpuncher, gunman, or both, and in any case, did not look easy. He decided to temporize.
"Dunno as he's done anythin'," he replied surlily. "He's a Jew, that's what."
"Which is no crime in a free country," the puncher said. "What's the penalty for hein' a cowardly coyote pup?" The contemptuous question, deliberately insulting, upset the young ruffian's poise, and his face became as red as his hair. He did not know what to do; this sarcastic, confident stranger, little older than himself in mere years but twice his age in experience, had him "buffaloed." The shamed bully looked round at his following and for a few tense seconds the issue hung in the balance. But Gerry had been whispering to the nearest of the gang, the word had passed round, and with no more than ugly glares they slouched away. Red-hair, the last to leave, alone found his tongue.
"I'm rememberin' this," he snarled.
"Yo're gettin' sense a'ready," Sudden complimented.
The old man, who had watched the scene with inscrutable eyes, now came forward. "My friends, I thank you," he said, voice and manner entirely out of keeping with the shabby attire. "Those young devils have made life a burden to me for weeks past."
"I reckon they won't trouble yu again, seh," Sudden smiled.
"You certainly gave them a lesson, but I fear they will transfer their enmity to you," the other replied. "Ridicule is a bitter pill for youth to swallow." Sudden laughed and looked at his friend. "Shucks, I figure we can take care of ourselves." The old man's eyes swept over them approvingly. "I do not doubt it, given fair play," he agreed, "but this is the toughest town of the many I have known. You are strangers here; is there any way I can help you?"
"We got in this afternoon an' we're wonderin' where we can bed down," Mason explained.
"The settlement is choke-full--new-comers will have to build shelter or camp out. Fortunately 1 can offer you a roof, though little else. My hut is larger than a single man needs,and there is a small corral at the rear---you have horses, of course?"
"We left them at the livery," Sudden said. "Couldn't get along without the broncs."
"I know," the old man smiled. "Almost the last thing a cowboy parts with--except his life. Well, what do you say?"
"We're mighty obliged," Sudden told him, adding awkwardly, "We ain't exactly broke, yu understand."
"I'm not offering you charity--you will have to keep yourselves, no light task in Deadwood. The room is of no use to me. I ought perhaps to point out that you will be living with one who is poorly regarded."
"Popularity never appealed to me," Sudden assured him, a tinge of bitterness in his tone. "We'll go yu, Mister ?"
"You may call me 'Jacob'," their new friend supplemented. "Deadwood dubbed me a Jew, and, for reasons of my own, I have not refuted it, though 1 am not a member of that persecuted race." At his suggestion they collected the horses and made their way to the far end of the settlement. Jacob's dwelling proved to be the last of the buildings, standing some two hundred yards from the others.
It was a log cabin, strongly but roughly put together, and consisted of three rooms. A table and two stools comprised the furniture of the one at their disposal. Their host apologized for the absence of beds.
"Don't say a word," Mason grinned. "We got blankets an' fetched our own fleas." Having turned their horses into the poled enclosure at the back of the cabin, they sallied forth to the nearest store for supplies. The prices they had to pay made them open their eyes.