The She Boss: A Western Story

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by Arthur Preston Hankins


  CHAPTER XVII

  IN LETTERS OF BLACK

  There was a general outburst of indignation on the part of JerklineJo's devoted retainers when the outfit went into camp at noon,quarterway through the mountain pass.

  "We'll fix 'im, Jo!" Heine Schultz exclaimed angrily. "All we gotta dois make out to get ahead o' his old cough wagons and not let 'em pass.We can hold 'im back clear through the pass, if we string out. Le'sfigger it out fer the rest o' the trip, Jo. There's not over sixplaces where one vehicle can pass another. Now what we gotta do isstring out our outfit so's none o' us'll hit one o' those places whenthe machines are comin'. Say, we can hold 'em up till----"

  "Heine," said Jerkline Jo quietly, "is that your idea of business."

  "Course it is. Stick it to the Al Drummond, Jo! He's startedsomethin' that he'll have a hard time finishin', that's all. Say, wecan slip it to him till he'll be sick o' that dirty deal he handed you.Leave it to Blink and me. We got it all schemed out."

  "Heine," Jo remarked, "we'll travel right along as we have alwaystraveled. If one of Mr. Drummond's trucks comes up behind us and wantsto pass we will let it pass when it is convenient to do so."

  "Not here, Jo! My team don't put one foot outa the road to let a truckpass."

  "No, I don't expect you to do that. But it will depend on conditions.If you are loaded and he is empty, of course he must look out forhimself. Again, if you are climbing and he is coming down, he must getout of the difficulty as best he can. But when you, loaded, reach aplace where a truck can pass you, and you know one is coming up behindyou and wishes to pass, you will stop your team in the road and let itcircle around you."

  "I won't, Jo! I----"

  "Yes, you will. You will do as I say, as you always do." She smiledat him sweetly and patted his shoulder. "Loyal old Heinrich!" shesaid. "Just the same old-timer, we must observe the courtesy of theroad always. Think it over--you'll see I'm right."

  "Jo, you can't afford a jolt like that," said Jim McAllen.

  "I can't," Jo told him frankly. "Right now I don't know what to do. Imust keep on, by some hook or crook, till I can get advice from someone who's onto such tricks--Demarest, perhaps."

  "It's a rotten deal!"

  "I have an idea it's perfectly legitimate, Jim."

  "They ain't gonta do anything to the road to make it worth a tenth o'what they ask to travel on it. You saw the little putterin' jobs theydid, Jo."

  "I have an idea," replied the girl, "that when winter comes they'll bequite busy. And it also occurs to me that, now that they've agreed tomaintain the road if given the franchise, we can make them do it downto the letter, or render their franchise void."

  "By golly, I bet you can at that, Jo!" put in Tom Gulick. "I've heard,though, there's a rotten bunch of grafters runnin' this county. They'dprobably beat you out some way, so long as Drummond was puttin' upcigar money for them."

  Up until now Hiram Hooker had said nothing. Now came his soothingdrawl, and the others listened.

  "I don't know much about automobiles and what they can do," he said."But I do know mountains and mountain roads, and somethin' aboutmountain soil. And I've this to say: If Jo can hang on till winterthere'll be no trucks runnin' against her. Then if they still collectfor crossin' through the pass, all she's got to do is raise the freightrate to meet the extra expense. There's exactly ten places on the roadwhere we're goin' to hook maybe thirty horses on every wagon to getacross next winter. And I'll bet my month's wages against a dollar ofMr. Drummond's money that he'll be begging for teams to haul him out.Then, of course, the price ought to be about fifty-six dollars a haul,regardless of distance, hadn't it?"

  "Good boy!" cried Keddie. "Listen to our Gentle Wild Cat pur! He'sright, too, I'll say. If we can hang on till winter, Jo can collectback all she's paid out for tolls--and I'll say a little profit on thedeal wouldn't make me weep."'

  "But winter's a long way off," Jim McAllen gloomily pointed out.

  After this there was thoughtful silence.

  To add to the misfortunes of the second trip to the camps, Jim McAllenbroke a reach when the train neared the foot of the grade. There werespare reaches in the outfit, of course, but they had to unload thewagon to substitute one, and it all took a great deal of time. Then ahorse became sick, and Jerkline Jo positively refused to work a sickhorse. The animal was taken out of harness and allowed to tag alongbehind with his mate, who automatically became useless, too. A ton ofsupplies was taken from the wagon to which the sick horse belonged, anddistributed among the other loads. This took more time, and nightovertook the outfit with several miles between them and the tank wagonthat awaited their coming on the desert.

  Hour after hour they plodded along, not daring to camp until they hadwater. There was no moon, and as the desert road was little more thana trail Heine Schultz let his team tag Keddie's and walked ahead with alantern to guide the lead skinner. Thirsty and hungry and weary, theyreached the tank about nine o'clock. Then came a hearty curse from theman with the lantern, followed by:

  "Lord, be merciful unto me, a skinner! The tank's empty, Jo!"

  The party descended hurriedly and crowded about him. It was a steeltank, and a careful search failed to show that any of its plates hadsprung a leak. Then the light was held under the spigot, and, thoughthe hot desert sun had evaporated every drop of water, there was a holeworn in the sand where it had fallen in a stream. The spigot was open.

  "How 'bout it now, Jo?" Heine queried. "Is this what you calllegitimate business--huh? I guess now you'll let me hold 'em back whenI can."

  Without replying Jo stooped and made an examination.

  "Some one has turned the water out," she said, rising wearily. "Willwe be obliged to hire a watchman to camp by our water tank? This isserious, boys. The unwritten law of the desert would condemn whoeverdid this to a lariat and a yucca palm. Still, we don't know who didit. It's too dark to find tracks or to learn anything about it. It'sseventeen miles to the Washburn-Stokes outfit--the nearest water ahead.Or it's eight miles back to the lake in the mountains. What's best todo?"

  They turned the problem over and over, and finally decided unanimouslythat to send the tank with six horses back to the lake, to be refilled,was the wiser plan. Hiram volunteered for the trip, and Schultzvolunteered to go with him. At once the two set off behind six ofHiram's lamenting animals for the long night trip, eating a hasty lunchas they traveled.

  Dawn was breaking when they returned with a full tank, and were greetedby the braying of the mules and the expectant nickering of the horses,who smelled the water from afar.

  Jo ordered a rest until ten o'clock, to counteract the suffering thatthe thirsty animals had undergone and to rest Hiram's six after theperformance of their double task.

  These setbacks made them late in their arrival at the scene of comingtoil, but gradually the distant buttes grew plainer as they moved onsteadily toward them over the crunching sands, so hot and barren.

  Hiram Hooker was riding with Jerkline Jo as they approached the buttes.She was hammering away on her typewriter, while Hiram was deep in amathematical problem, his tongue out and gripped by his teeth. Theclicking of the typewriter ceased suddenly, and Jo asked:

  "Isn't that a tent over there near the buttes, Wild Cat?"

  Hiram looked up and shielded his eyes, straining his vision over therolling white backs of Jo's team into the yellow vastness beyond.

  "Looks like it," he said.

  "We'll not have to arrange for a watchman then. Demarest has sent aman, I guess. Get out my binoculars, please, and see what you can makeout."

  Hiram took the strong glasses from their case, and, steadying himselfagainst a side of the freight rack, trained them on the distant speckof white that represented a lonely tent.

  At once the tent seemed to jump across the desert to a point a shortdistance ahead of them. Hiram's lips parted and a snort of surpriseescaped him.

  Before the front of the tent, o
n a pole planted there, was a big signcomposed of black letters against a white background. And this is whatHiram Hooker read:

  The Homesteader's Promised Land of Milk and Honey

  OFFICE OF THE PALOMA RANCHO INVESTMENT COMPANY

  Orr Tweet, President. Walk In

 

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