CHAPTER XII
MOLLIE TAKES CHARGE
Bear Cat was a cow-town, still in its frankest, most exuberant youth. Bigcattle outfits had settled on the river and ran stock almost to the Utahline. Every night the saloons and gambling-houses were filled withpunchers from the Diamond K, the Cross Bar J, the Half Circle Dot, or anyone of a dozen other brands up or down the Rio Blanco. They came fromWilliams's Fork, Squaw, Salt, Beaver, or Piney Creeks. And usually theycame the last mile or two on the dead run, eager to slake a thirst asurgent as their high spirits.
They were young fellows most of them, just out of their boyhood, keen tospend their money and have a good time when off duty. Always they madestraight for Dolan's or the Bear Cat House. First they downed a drink ortwo, then they washed off the dust of travel. This done, each followedhis own inclination. He gambled, drank, or frolicked around, according tothe desire of the moment.
Dud Hollister and Tom Reeves, with Blister Haines rolling between them,impartially sampled the goods at Dolan's and at Mollie Gillespie's. Theyhad tried their hand at faro, with unfortunate results, and they had satin for a short session at a poker game where Dud had put too much faithin a queen full.
"I sure let my foot slip that time," Dud admitted. "I'd been playin'plumb outa luck. Couldn't fill a hand, an' when I did, couldn't get it tostand up. That last queen looked like money from home. I reckon Ioverplayed it," he ruminated aloud, while he waited for Mike Moran togive him another of the same.
Tom hooked his heel on the rail in front of the bar. "I ain't made up mymind yet that game was on the level. That tinhorn who claimed he was fromCheyenne ce'tainly had a mighty funny run o' luck. D' you notice how hishands jes' topped ours? Kinda queer, I got to thinkin'. He didn't holdany more'n he had to for to rake the chips in. I'd sorta like a look-seeat the deck we was playin' with."
Blister laughed wheezily. "You w-won't get it. N-never heard of a hold-upgettin' up a petition for better street lights, did you? No, an' youn-never will. An' you never n-noticed a guy who was aimin' to bushwhackanother from the brush go to clearin' off the sage first. He ain'tl-lookin' for no open arguments on the m-merits of his shootin'. Notnone. Same with that Cheyenne bird an' his stocky pal acrost the table.They're f-figurin' that dead decks tell no tales. The one you played withis sure enough s-scattered every which way all over the floor along withseve-real others." The fat justice of the peace murmured "How!" andtilted his glass.
If Blister did not say "I told you so," it was not because he might nothave done it fairly. He had made one comment when Dud had proposedsitting in to the game of draw.
"H-how much m-mazuma you got?"
"Twenty-five bucks left."
"If you s-stay outa that game you'll earn t-twenty-five bucks thequickest you ever did in yore life."
Youth likes to buy its experience and not borrow it. Dud knew now thatBlister had been a wise prophet in his generation.
The bar at Gillespie's was at the front of the house. In the rear werethe faro and poker tables, the roulette wheels, and the otherconveniences for separating hurried patrons from their money. The BearCat House did its gambling strictly on the level, but there was the usualpercentage in favor of the proprietor.
Mollie was sitting in an armchair on a small raised platform abouthalfway back. She kept a brisk and business-like eye on proceedings. Nopuncher who had gone broke, no tenderfoot out of luck, could go hungry inBear Cat if she knew it. The restaurant and the bar were at their servicejust as though they had come off the range with a pay-check intact. Theycould pay when they had the money. No books were kept. Their memorieswere the only ledgers. Few of these debts of honor went unpaid in theend.
But Mollie, though tender-hearted, knew how to run the place. Herbrusque, curt manner suited Bear Cat. She could be hail-fellow or hard asflint, depending on circumstances. The patrons at Gillespie's rememberedher sex and yet forgot it. They guarded their speech, but they drank withher at the bar or sat across a poker table from her on equal terms. Shewas a good sport and could lose or win large sums imperturbably.
Below her now there floated past a tide of hot-blooded youth eager tomake the most of the few hours left before the dusty trails called. Mostof these punchers would go back penniless to another month or two of hardand reckless riding. But they would go gayly, without regret, thesunshine of irrepressible boyhood in their hearts. The rattle of chips,the sound of laughter, the murmur of conversation, the even voice of thecroupier at the roulette table, filled the hall.
Jim Larson, a cowman from down the river, sat on the edge of theplatform.
"The Boot brand's puttin' a thousand head in the upper country this fall,Mollie. Looks to me like bad business, but there's a chance I'm wrong atthat. My bet is you can't run cows there without winter feed. There won'tmany of 'em rough through."
"Some'll drift down to the river," Mollie said, her preoccupied eyes onthe stud table where a slight altercation seemed to be under way. Hermethod of dealing with quarrels was simple. The first rule was based onone of Blister Haines's paradoxes. "The best way to settle trouble is notto have it." She tried to stop difficulties before they became acute. Ifthis failed, she walked between the angry youths and read the riot act tothem.
"Some will," admitted Larson. "More of 'em won't."
Mollie rose, to step down from the platform. She did not reach the studtable. A commotion at the front door drew her attention. Mrs. Gillespiewas a solid, heavy-set woman, but she moved with an energy that carriedher swiftly. She reached the bar before any of the men from thegambling-tables.
A girl was leaning weakly against the door-jamb. Hat and shoes were gone.The hair was a great black mop framing a small face white to the lips.The stocking soles were worn through. When one foot shifted to get abetter purchase for support, a bloodstained track was left on the floor.The short dress was frozen stiff.
The dark, haunted eyes moved uncertainly round the circle of facesstaring at her. The lips opened and made the motions of speech, but nosound came from them. Without any warning the girl collapsed.
Dud Hollister's arm was under the ice-coated head in an instant. Helooked up at Mollie Gillespie, who had been only a fraction of a secondbehind him.
"It's the li'l' bride," he said.
She nodded. "Brandy an' water, Mike. Quick! She's only fainted. Head notso high, Dud. Tha's right. We'll get a few drops of this between herteeth.... She's comin' to."
June opened her eyes and looked at Mollie. Presently she looked round anda slow wonder grew in them. "Where am I?" she murmured.
"You're at the hotel--where you'll be looked after right, dearie." Mrs.Gillespie looked up. "Some one get Doc Tuckerman. An' you, Tom, hustlePeggie and Chung Lung outa their beds if they're not up. There's a firein my room. Tell her to take the blankets from the bed an' warm 'em. TellChung to heat several kettles o' water fast as he can. Dud, you comealong an' carry her to the stove in the lobby. The rest o' you'll stayright here."
Mollie did not ask any questions or seek explanation. That could wait.The child had been through a terrible experience and must be looked afterfirst.
From the lobby Dud presently carried June into the bedroom and departed.A roaring fire was in the stove. Blankets and a flannel nightgown werehanging over the backs of chairs to warm. With the help of thechambermaid Peggie, the landlady stripped from the girl the frozen dressand the wet underclothes. Over the thin, shivering body she slipped thenightgown, then tucked her up in the blankets. As soon as Chung broughtthe hot-water jugs she put one at June's feet and another close to thestomach where the cold hands could rest upon it.
June was still shaking as though she never would get warm. A faint mistof tears obscured her sight. "Y-you're awful good to me," she whispered,teeth chattering.
The doctor approved of what had been done. He left medicine for thepatient. "Be back in five minutes," he told Mrs. Gillespie outside theroom. "Want some stuff I've got at the office. Think I'll stay for a fewhours and see how the case develops. Afraid she's
in for a bad spell ofpneumonia."
He did not leave the sick-room after his return until morning. Molliestayed there, too. It was nearly one o'clock when Blister Haines knockedgently at the door.
"How's the li'l' lady?" he asked in his high falsetto, after Mollie hadwalked down the passage with him.
"She's a mighty sick girl. Pneumonia, likely."
"Tell doc not to let her die. If he needs another doctor some of us'llh-hustle over to Glenwood an' g-get one. Say, Mrs. Gillespie, I reckonthere's gonna be trouble in town to-night."
She said nothing, but her blue eyes questioned him.
Blister's next sentence sent her moving toward the saloon.
The Fighting Edge Page 12