by B. M. Bower
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
In the shade of a juniper that grew on the highest point of the gulch'srim, Mack Nolan lay sprawled on the flat of his back, one arm for apillow, and stared up into the serene blue of the sky with cottonyflakes of cloud swimming steadily to the northeast. Three feet away,Casey Ryan rested on left hip and elbow and stared glumly down upon thecabin directly beneath them. Whenever his pale, straight-lidded eyesfocussed upon the dusty top of the Ford car standing in front of thecabin, Casey said something under his breath. Miles away to thesouth, pale violet, dreamlike in the distance, the jagged outline of asmall mountain range stood as if painted upon the horizon. A wavyribbon of smudgy brown was drawn uncertainly across the base of themountains. This, Casey knew, when his eyes lifted to look that way,marked the line of the Sante Fe and a train moving heavily upgrade tothe west.
Toward it dipped the smooth stretch of barren mesa cut straight downthe middle with a yellow line that was the highway up which Casey haddriven the morning before. The inimitable magic of distance and highdesert air veiled greasewood, sage and sand with the glamour ofunreality. The mountains beyond, unspeakably desolate and forbiddingat close range, and the little black buttes standing afar, off--smallspewings of age-old volcanos dead before man was born--seemedfascinating, unknown islets anchored in a sea of enchantment. Acrossthe valley to the west nearer mountains, all amethyst and opal tinted,stood bold and inscrutable, with jagged peaks thrust into the blue topierce and hold the little clouds that came floating by. Even thegulch at hand had been touched by the enchanter's wand and smiledmysteriously in the vivid sunlight, the very air a-quiver with thatindescribable beauty of the high mesa land which holds desert dwellersin thrall.
When first Casey saw the smoke smudge against the mountains to thesouth, he remembered his misadventure of the lower desert and swore.When he looked again, the majestic sweep of distance gave him asatisfied feeling of freedom from the crowded pettinesses of the city.For the first time since trouble met him in the trail betweenVictorville and Barstow, Casey heaved a sigh of content because he wasonce more out in the big land he loved. Those distant, paintedmountains, looking as impossible as the back drop of a stage, heldgulches and deep canyons he knew. The closer hills he had prospected.The mesa, spread all around him, seemed more familiar than the whiteapartment house in Los Angeles which Casey had lately called home. Andif the thought of the Little Woman brought with it the vague discomfortof a schoolboy playing hookey, Casey could not have regretted beinghere with Mack Nolan if he had tried.
They were lying up here in the shade--following the instinct of othercreatures of the wild to guard against surprises--while they worked outa nice problem in moonshine. And since the desert had never meant amonotonously placid life to Casey--who carried his problemsphilosophically as a dog bears patiently with fleas--he had everyreason now for feeling very much at home. When he reached mechanicallyinto his pocket for his Bull Durham and papers, any man who knew himwell would have recognized the motion as a sign that Casey was himselfagain, once more on his mental feet and ready to go boringoptimistically into his next bunch of trouble.
Mack Nolan raised his head off his arm and glanced at Casey quizzically.
"Well--we can't catch fish if we won't cut bait," he volunteeredsententiously. "I've a nice little job staked out for you, Casey."
Casey gave a grunt that might mean one of several things, and whichprobably meant them all. He waited until he had his cigarette going."If it ain't a goat's job I'm fer it," he said. "Casey Ryan ain't theman t' set in the shade whilst there's men runnin' loose he's darnedanxious t' meet."
"I've been thinking over the deal those fellows pulled on you. If theman Kenner had left you the booze and dope he told you was in the car,I'd say it was a straight case of a sticky-fingered officer letting abootlegger by with part of his load, and a later attack of cold feet onthe part of the bootlegger. But they didn't leave you any booze. So Ihave doped it this way, Ryan.
"The thing's deeper than it looked, yesterday. Those two were workingtogether, part of a gang, I should say, with a fairly well-organizedsystem. By accident--and probably for a greater degree of safety ingetting out of the city, Kenner invited you to ride with him. Hewanted no argument with that traffic cop--no record made of his nameand license number. So he took you in. When he found out who you were,he knew you were at outs with the law. He knew you as an experienceddesert man. He had you placed as a valuable member of their gang, ifyou could be won over and persuaded to join them.
"As soon as possible he got you behind the wheel--further protection tohimself if he should meet an officer who was straight. He felt you outon the subject of a partnership. And when you met Smiling Lou--well,this Kenner had decided to take no chance with you. He still had hopesof pulling you in with them, but he was far from feeling sure of you.He undoubtedly gave Smiling Lou the cue to make the thing appear anordinary case of highjacking while he ditched his whole load so thatthere would be no evidence against him if he lost out and you turnednasty.
"I'm absolutely certain, Casey, that if you had not been along, SmilingLou would not have touched that load. They'd probably have stoppedthere for a talk, exchanged news and perhaps perfected future plans,and parted like two old cronies. It's possible, of course, thatSmiling Lou might have taken some whisky back with him--if he hadneeded it. Otherwise, I think they split more cash than booze, as arule."
Casey sat up. "Well, they coulda played me for a sucker easy enough,"he admitted reluctantly. "An' if it'll be any help to yuh, Mr. Nolan,I'll say that I never seen the money passed from Kenner to Smilin' Lou,an' I never seen a bottle unloaded from the car. I heard 'em yes. An'I'll say there was a bunch of 'em all right. But what I SEEN was theroad ahead of me and that car of Smilin' Lou's standin' in the middleof it. He had a gun pulled on me, mind yuh--and you can ask anybody ifa feller feels like rubberin' much when there's only the click of atrigger between him an' a six-foot hole in the ground."
"All the more reason," said Nolan, also sitting up with his handsclasped around his knees, "why it's important to catch them with thegoods. You'll have to peddle hootch, Casey, until we get Smiling Louand his outfit."
"And where, Mr. Nolan, do I git the booze to peddle?" asked Caseypractically.
Nolan laughed to himself. "It can be bought," he said, "but I'd rathernot. Since you've never monkeyed with the stuff, it might make youconspicuous if you went around buying up a load of hootch. And ofcourse I can't appear in this thing at all. But I have what I think isa very good plan."
Casey looked at him inquiringly, and again Nolan laughed.
"Nothing for it, Casey,--we'll have to locate a still and rob it. That,or make some of our own, which takes time. And it's an unpleasant,messy job anyway."
Casey stared dubiously down into the gulch. "That'd be fine, Mr.Nolan, if we knew where was the still. Or mebby yuh do know."
Mack Nolan shook his head. "No, I don't, worse luck. I haven't beenlong enough in the district to know as much about it as I hope to knowlater on. Prospecting for this headquarters took a little time; andgetting my stuff moved in here secretly took more time. A week ago,Casey, I shouldn't have been quite ready to use you. But you came whenyou were needed, and so--I feel sure the White Mule will presently showup."
Casey lifted his head and stared meditatively out across the immensityof the empty land around them.
"She's a damn' big country, Mr. Nolan. I dunno," he remarkeddoubtfully. "But Casey Ryan has yet t' go after a thing an' fail t'git it. I guess if it's hootch we want, it ought t' be easy enough t'find; it shore has been hard t' dodge it lately! If yuh want WhiteMule, Mr. Nolan, you send Casey out travelin' peaceful an' meanin' harmt' nobody. Foller Casey and you'll find 'im tangled up with a mess uhhootch b'fore he gits ten miles from camp."
"You could go out and highjack some one." Nolan agreed, taking himseriously--which Casey had not intended. "I think we'll go down andload the camp outfit into my car, Ryan, an
d I'll start you out. Go upinto your old stamping ground where people know you. If you're carefulin picking your men, you could locate some hootch, couldn't you,without attracting attention?"
Casey studied the matter. "Bill Masters could mebby help me out," hesaid finally. "Only I don't like the friends Bill's been wishin' ontome lately. This man Kenner, that held me up, knowed Bill Mastersintimate. I'm kinda losin' my taste fer Bill lately."
Mack Nolan seized upon the clue avidly. Before Casey quite realizedwhat he had done, he found himself hustled away from camp in MackNolan's car, headed for Lund in the service of his government. Sinceyoung Kenner had been able to talk so intimately of Bill Masters, MackNolan argued that Bill Masters should likewise be able to give someuseful information concerning young Kenner. Moreover, a man in BillMasters' position would probably know at least a few of the hiddentrails of the White Mule near Lund.
"If you can bring back a load of moonshine Ryan, by all means do so,"Nolan instructed Casey at the last moment. "Here's money to buy itwith. We should have enough to make a good haul for Smiling Lou.Twenty gallons at least--forty, if you can get them. Keep your weathereye open, and whatever happens, don't mention my name or say that youare working with the law. In five days, if you are not here, I shalldrive to Las Vegas. Get word to me there if anything goes wrong. Justwrite or wire to General Delivery. But I look for you back, Ryan, notlater than Friday midnight. Take no unnecessary risk; this is moreimportant than you know."
Nolan's crisp tone of authority remained with Casey mile upon mile. Andsuch was the Casey Ryan driving that midnight found him coasting intoBill Masters' garage in Lund with the motor shut off and a grin on theCasey Ryan face.