CHAPTER XXX
HIRAM TAKES THE TRAIL
Hiram Hooker stood motionless in the alley back of Lucy Dalles' cabinand listened intently through the knothole.
"Well," he heard Al Drummond saying to Lucy, "I see they got in againthis evening."
Hiram supposed "they" referred to the freighting outfit of Jerkline Jo.
"Yes," replied Lucy, "and here it is late January, Al, and we'veaccomplished nothing."
"No, nothing," Drummond admitted gloomily. "And our chances lookmighty slim to get at her. Every trip she's got those five huskyskinners with her, and I guess every one of them is fool enough to putup a scrap for her if he knew he'd get croaked in the deal."
"We must think up another plan to separate her from them," the girlsuggested.
"Confound it!" muttered Drummond. "Everything was moving alongsmoothly, and the next minute we'd have had the razor working; thenhere comes that big boob and takes us by surprise. Lord, how he swungthose clubs!"
"You're afraid of him, since he beat you up on the desert," Lucy saidtauntingly.
"Huh! I'll get him yet! I'm willing to admit he's too many for me ina stand-up and knock-down fight. He's a whirlwind--I never saw hislike. Why, up there in the mountains he seemed to have a dozen arms,all working at once. Wild Cat is right! But I haven't been raised onsalt pork and corn bread. I've lived. Just the same, when I get goodand ready I'll fix his engine for him."
"I imagine he'll be around to oversee the work," remarked Lucy in atone that probably made Drummond long to choke her.
"Well, that's not the point," she went on after a little. "What are wegoing to do to get at that creature known as Jerkline Jo, thefour-flusher? She's crooked as a dog's hind leg, and goes aroundpulling the pious stuff on the roughnecks."
"You think because you're crooked every other woman is, eh? I'll saythis for Jo--she's straight and a dead-game sport. She's not afour-flusher. Of course I'd do anything to get even for the way shehanded it to me in the freighting game. But there's no sense in youand me running her down to each other when we don't believe ourselves."
"So you've fallen for her, too, have you?" Lucy asked sarcastically.
"Don't be a fool, Lucy! A man can't help admiring a girl like Jo."
"Thanks for your assurances, Al," Lucy said cuttingly.
"Well, well, well! Scrap all night about nothing! Forget it! Shutup! Guess who I saw to-day as I was driving over the desert."
"Who?" sullenly.
"Your dear old uncle."
"My uncle!"
"Sure--that's what you called him. Basil Filer, the crazy prospector."
"Sure enough, Al?" Lucy's tones were brighter.
"Pretty much so. Didn't seem to recognize me at all. I was atComstock's camp, and he rambled in with his burros. Stood within fivefeet of me and looked right at me. Never saw me before!" and Drummondchuckled.
"Al, where on earth do you suppose he's been since you took him out onthe desert and dumped him?"
"Heaven knows! Wandering about looking for a prospect, I suppose. I'dhave given fifty dollars to be hidden close by when he came out of itnext morning."
"Poor old duffer! But suppose Hooker and Jo or some of that bunchshould stumble onto him, Al! Was he making this way?"
"Yes; but he was fifty miles up the lines. There were two or threewomen about Comstock's commissary tent--two of Comstock's daughters andthe wife of his walking-boss. The old bird kept looking at them andshaking his head, just like he did with you. He's still hunting forhis pardner's daughter. He's a crazy nut, and I guess wherever he goeshe's trying to get on her trail."
"Don't you suppose he remembers me, Al? We sure had him going thatnight. I was Jean Prince to him, all right. And when you inked me up,and he got a look--say, he couldn't tell his story fast enough, couldhe?"
Drummond chuckled reminiscently. "Yes, next minute he'd have had youscalped, kid, if I hadn't slipped him another powder. Well, if he doesdrift back here you've simply got to lie low and keep out of his sight.I'll tell the boys to keep their eyes open and slip me the dope if theysee him rambling into Ragtown. Then you fade away till he beats it outagain."
"Won't he ask about me? And try to find out where I've gone?"
"I doubt it. He's still got his precious paper. If, we'd stolen that,instead of copying it, there might be the very devil to pay. But aslong as he's still got it he's too nutty to suspect. Of course,though, nobody can tell what's going on in the other fellow's noodle.I'd say, though, that if you aren't here he'll think the whole businesswas a pipe dream."
"I hope so. We don't want any further complications. Now when are youand Hank and that friend of his going to make another attempt to getJerkline Jo? And how are you going about it?"
"Hank's still camping up in the mountains and spying on the outfit whenit travels through the pass," Al informed her. "He's watching theirhabits, and taking note of just how they travel along, trying to dopeout something new. He'll get a scheme before spring, I'm thinking.There's a bad hombre, kid. It would give me the creeps to know he wastrailing me through those lonesome woods. Man! I wouldn't turn myback to that plug with fifteen cents in my jeans!"
"Can't we get some more of Hank's pals and simply ambush Jo's wholeoutfit? Collar all of them, and then get after Jo. Surely a bunch ofmen could take them all by surprise and put the fixin's to 'em."
Drummond snorted. "We've got to split the haul four ways as it is," hepointed out. "And that bo that helped us get Filer away--Stool--hesmells a rat and is keeping an eye single to horning in on theclean-up. Lucy, I wouldn't attack Jo's bunch of roughnecks with lessthan a dozen men; and you can bet your young life our gang is too bigas it is. Keep the home fires burning, I'll say!"
"Well, for Heaven's sake, try and get busy soon!" Lucy criedpetulantly. "Goodness knows I did my part--all that any woman could beexpected to do. So far I'm the only one that's accomplished anything.Why in thunder didn't Hank's friend, Pete, 'tend to the business upthere in the mountains, after you and Hank had beat it? Hooker wasout, this fellow said, and the girl still tied. And then he comes outof his dope and gets on a horse, and beats it like you other twoquitters!"
"He didn't have the paper," explained Al. "Besides, Pete thought hewas going to croak. He was laid up longer than Hooker, even, andHooker had got a bullet. Pete's skull was cracked, and for a time itwas a toss-up whether he'd pull through or not. He went nutty upthere, I guess. He was lying sidewise across the saddle, unconsciousbut holding on for dear life, when the horse caught up with us. AndHank and I ducked out because--well, it's hard to explain. Both of uswere pretty badly beaten up, you know, and there wasn't much fight leftin us. Hooker had surprised us, and we were rattled. I don't know--afellow can't explain just why he does the wrong thing in a situationlike that. But knock the fight out of a man and make him groggy, andhe'll bungle every time."
"Well, do something now," ordered Lucy frigidly; and Hiram heardDrummond scrape back his chair in rising.
"All right--we'll see. I'll beat it now. Up late last night playingpoker. Rotten luck, too!"
"Al," said Lucy's voice, "when we get that jack, are you going to giveme a fair share of it?"
"Sure--sure! Why do you keep harping on that, Lucy? Haven't Ipromised you I would? Good night. I'm dead tired!"
Half an hour before dawn next morning Hiram Hooker crawled from hisblankets in camp and fed hay and grain to Babe, Jerkline Jo's blacksaddle mare. Then, leaving his companions placidly snoring, he walkedbriskly along the trail to Ragtown. Ten minutes after his start he wasknocking on the door of Jo's tiny pine cabin.
"What is it?" finally came the girl's sleepy tones. "Who is there?"
"It's I, Jo. Hiram. Will you come to the door a second? I want totalk with you."
"You big whale! What do you mean, waking me up in the middle of thenight? Anything wrong?"
"No, Jo. And it's almost time to get up. The boys will be
out by thetime I get back. Hurry and get dressed, won't you?"
There was a rustling and quick moving about inside, and presently thedoor was unlocked and Jerkline Jo poked her head out inquiringly.
"I came to ask you for a few days off," he explained.
"Why, Hiram?"
"Yes, just one trip, Jo. There isn't any more freight than the rest ofyou can handle just now. Won't be till spring, I'm thinking."
"Oh, I could spare you now better than later on. But--but what, Hiram?"
"And I'd like to borrow Babe and your saddle and bridle, too."
"Take them," she said confidently. "Whatever your mysteriousdisappearance means, I know I can trust you."
Half an hour afterward Hiram swung himself into Jo's big Californiasaddle, and then leaned over and spoke to Blink Keddie and HeineSchultz, busy at harnessing the teams.
"I don't know when I'll be back, boys," he said. "But remember what Itold you: Don't let Jo out of your sight in the pass--nor anywhereelse, for that matter--and keep your guns handy all the time."
"Don't worry, Gentle Wild Cat!" Schultz assured him.
"So long, then," said Hiram, and swung Babe into the road thatconnected Ragtown with the line of camps which dotted the desert fromend to end.
The She Boss: A Western Story Page 30