CHAPTER XVI
TEHACHAPI HANK
Toward the middle of the following afternoon Jerkline Jo's freightoutfit, minus the diverting Mr. Tweet of the twisted nose, was wendingits way empty back toward the distant mountains, hauling the necessarywater in the tank wagon.
They were still ten miles from the mouth of the mountain pass when theywent into camp on the desert for the night. When they started nextmorning the tank wagon was taken on a way and left, for, with the lakeat the highest point of the pass, and the artesian water at the desertranch on the other side, they would be well supplied for the remainderof the trip.
Before noon they were entering the pass and moving up the steep ascentinto cooler atmosphere, and light, invigorating air, scented with thebreath of pines and junipers.
Hiram Hooker was lazing on his high seat, dreaming and watching hisleaders, when from behind came the familiar call:
"Who-hoo!"
He turned his face back toward the mistress of the ten gigantic whites.
"Who repaired the road back there?" she shouted.
"I don't know," Hiram called back. "I can't remember that we stoppedthere."
"We didn't. Some one else has done that. Keep your eyes open, GentleWild Cat."
Hiram did this, and presently began to see ruts had been filled inrepeatedly and the marks left by boulders that had been snaked to theedge of the precipice and allowed to thunder down a canon.
This continued all the way to the summit, where they camped for a latenooning beside the mountain lake.
When they took up the journey again, and had reached a point half amile beyond the lake, came upon a lone touring car and a little camp.Frequently now Hiram looked back, to see perplexity and worry on theusually placid brow of Jerkline Jo. A half mile beyond the camp theyfound seven men working with ax and pick and shovel, repairing the road.
Jo set the heavy brake and called to her ten to stop. Hearing hercommand, Hiram also halted his blacks. The rest of the skinners movedon slowly down the mountain, looking back for Jo's signal for them tostop. She gave none, however, so they continued on.
"Who is repairing this road, please?" Jo called from her wagon to agroup of men.
One of them approached her a few steps. "Fella called Drummond," hereplied.
"Isn't he the automobile-truck man from San Francisco?"
"Yeah."
"Is he here?"
"No, ma'am. He come to Julia and got us to come over here in a machineand go to work, and he went back to Los Angeles, I think. Said he'd beout in a day or two."
"Thank you," said Jo, and threw off her brake.
There was no good opportunity for Hiram to talk over this matter withher until they had left the mountains and were in camp at the desertranch. "I don't quite like it," Jo said then. "It seems that Mr.Drummond should have come to me in this matter, and if the road neededrepairing to the extent that he is doing it we should share the expensebetween us."
"Drummond?" queried Hiram. "I think I know that man. I've seen him,anyway."
"You! Where?"
"In San Francisco. It seems that Tweet was in a restaurant theretalking to a--a waitress about coming down here. This Drummond he--heknew that waitress, and came in to see her while Tweet was there. Theygot to talking it over, I guess, and Tweet told him all about the newrailroad. The waitress told me----"
"You mean Lucy?"
Hiram's face reddened. "That was her name," he admitted. "I--Isuppose Tweet told you about her."
"A little. But I interrupted."
"Well, Lucy said Drummond had been interested in what Tweet had to say,and he said he might look into the freighting possibilities of the newroad. He's got a string of trucks, I was told."
"What sort of a man is he, Hiram?"
"Big fellow--always seems to be having fun. He's as big as I am, butnot so awkward, I guess. He wears fine clothes. But I don't knowanything about him at all. I never spoke to him."
The outfit reached Julia in the course of time, and found that "Blacky"Potts had set up his shop in a large circular tent, and was hammeringaway briskly on his anvil. Also he had made the camp snug andcomfortable under whispering cottonwood, and had fenced off a corralwith barbed wire.
Jo at once went to the Mulligan Supply Company to learn that a messagehad come to her, in their care, from Demarest. It stated that theirbig construction outfit was then on its way from northern California,and would cross to the new railroad from a point seventy-five miles tothe north. In view of the long trip, they wished to travel as light aspossible. Consequently there was another big order for Jo to freightin ahead of them at once. What interested Jo more, though, was thefact that Demarest ordered it delivered at the buttes, asking that awatchman be camped there to guard the supplies, provided they arrivedahead of the outfit.
Immediately they went to work at the loading, and in the end six wagonswere carrying capacity. The seventh lead wagon was an extra, which Johad decided to use only in case of a breakdown. With thirty tons ofhay, grain, case goods, and barreled provisions they started back earlythe following morning. Jo's heart was light, for this was exceedinglygood business, and it was coming faster than she had dared to hope,with so few camps established. Still, she was puzzled over therepairing of the mountain road.
"Fellow called Drummond has a big order to haul in trucks," the managerof the supply company had told her. "It's for a store that's going toopen up at Ragtown, I understand. Guess he'll get it out tomorrow ornext day."
All went well with the wagon train during the first lap of the deserttrip. Hiram rode with his employer, and their migratory institution oflearning was in full swing. Then when they reached the beginning ofthe mountain pass they found a shock in store for them.
The head skinner, Blink Keddie, had no more than entered the pass withhis eight bay mules when a man stepped into the road and held up a handfor him to stop. He was a Western-looking individual, a seamed-facedson of the deserts, and an immense Colt revolver dragged at his hips.He had come from a tiny tent set back from the road a way, half hiddenby junipers and close to a trickling spring.
Keddie clamped his brake and stopped his eight, eying the strangercuriously. Keddie, like Heine Schultz and Tom Gulick, had been on therailroad grade with Pickhandle Modock when Jo was a little girl. Hewas devoted to her and her interests, and anything that threatened herprosperity he was wont to look upon as his personal affair.
"Mornin'," he drawled as the following teams came to a stop, andskinners cupped hands behind their ears to listen.
"Quite a jag you got there," observed the man in the road.
Blink was entirely sober. "Jag" referred to the enormity of the loadof freight.
"Little matter o' sixty thousand, altogether. I wasn't aimin' to let'em blow right here, though, I pardner. Was there any particularreason ye had for stoppin' me?"
"Well, maybe there was, stranger. How many teams ye got pullin'."
Blink counted rapidly. "Four tens and two eights," he made reply.
"Uh-huh--but I mean how many span, pardner?"
Once more Blink struggled with arithmetic. "That'd make twenty-eightpair, wouldn't it?"
"Just about--just about, pardner. And two times twenty-eight isfifty-six, ain't it?"
Blink Keddie promptly agreed.
"Agreed, eh? Then I'll ask ye kindly for fifty-six dollars, stranger."
Keddie thoughtfully began rolling a cigarette. "If I had fifty-sixdollars, ol'-timer," he said, "I wouldn't converse with the likes o'you."
The gunman grinned. "Does take some time to save that amount skinnin'jerkline or bein' toll master on a mountain road," he admitted. "Areyou the boss?"
"If I was the boss," slowly returned Blink, "I wouldn't live in thesame county with you."
By this time Jerkline Jo, who had been hurrying forward along the wagontrain to find out what had occurred, arrived on the scene of their airypersiflage.
"What's wrong here
, Blink?" she wanted to know.
"This fella has been insultin' me," claimed Blink. "He insinuated Ibelonged to the idle-rich class. I guess he's institutin' some sort ofa drive or other. You talk to 'im, Jo."
"Well?" The girl wheeled and faced the man, hands on hips.
The Westerner swept off his hat. "Ye see, ma'am," he said to her,"this here's a toll road now--from here clean acrost the mountains tothe desert on t'other side. I'm toll master. I'm to collect twodollars a loaded team for the trip through the pass. The priceincludes the return trip, empty."
Jerkline Jo paled. Up behind her crowded Tom Gulick, Hiram Hooker,Heine Schultz, and Jim McAllen, and, if looks could have killed, theman with the gun would have been ripe for the undertaker's care.
"Two dollars! You mean----"
"A dollar a head, then, ma'am. You got fifty-six animals. That 'u'dbe fifty-six dollars, wouldn't it?" He smiled persuasively.
Jo gasped, and turned and glanced helplessly over her little army ofloyal men.
"By whose authority are you demanding this?" She spun back to the tollmaster, her dark eyes now aflame.
"Mr. Al Drummond he's the boss, ma'am. He's from Friscotown. He'sgotta keep up the road, so o' course he's gonta charge other folks totravel on it. It's jest like as if it was his private prop'ty, as Isavvy the deal, ma'am. I got papers to show ye, if ye wanta see 'em.Course I got nothin' to do with it--nothin' atall. Mr. Drummond hejest hired me to collect the fees and keep folks off that refused topay. I might add, though, ma'am, that I've always been considered apretty good keeper-off when I'm hired for that purpose. I'm from theKitchen Rancho, over toward the Tehachapi. They call me TehachapiHank. At yer service, ma'am."
Jerkline Jo's red lips were straight. She was indignant. A sense ofdefeat almost overwhelmed her. Such a situation had not even remotelyoccurred to her. In a wave of despair the realization swept over herthat she had attempted something of which she knew nothing. There hadbeen no one to advise her, and in the unbounded confidence of youth shehad not sought counsel. On the railroad grade few men could have putanything over on her. But this was another matter.
Fifty-six dollars for the eighteen-mile trip through the pass! Itwould be ruinous. She would be obliged to advance her rate to meetthis additional expense, and then the truckman holding the franchisewould be able to haul freight cheaper than she could.
Back of her the men were muttering useless threats among themselves.Jo found her voice at last. There was no need to ask to see a copy ofthe franchise, because there was not the slightest doubt in her mindthat everything was aboveboard in that respect. She simply had beenoutgeneraled. There was nothing to do but to pay--for the present, atleast--as the freight on her wagons must be delivered at any cost, nowthat she had contracted to deliver it. What she said was:
"Will you accept my check?"
"Certainly, ma'am--most certain," was the ready reply.
"I'll go back to my wagon and write one for you then," she said, tryingto keep her voice steady. "Let the wagons go on, please. When minereaches you I'll hand out the check."
Tehachapi Hank touched his broad-brimmed hat again. "All right andproper, ma'am," he assured her.
He was waiting by the roadside when her stanch whites marched past him,and she reached the check out through the slats of the rack. Hetouched his hat brim again and smiled then with true Westernpoliteness, pocketed the slip of paper without so much as glancing atit.
Dully she watched the broad straining backs of her beloved animals asthey planted their great fetlocked feet and heaved their burden everupward. Ahead of them she could hear her skinners shouting back andforth from wagon to wagon above the jingling of the bells, their toneshigh-pitched and angry. Why had she not consulted with Demarest andasked him to lay before her details of every angle that might presentitself in such an undertaking as hers?
Demarest knew all the twists and turns of modern business ruthlessness.He might have been able to foresee a situation like this and to putweapons into her hands with which she might have combated it.
She shrugged her sturdy shoulders finally, and as noon was close athand gave attention to her cooking. For the present she would drivethe matter from her thoughts. There was work to be accomplished, whichwas a part of the present delivery of freight. When this task wascompleted she would see what could be done.
The She Boss: A Western Story Page 16