Jem waited, but Will did not offer to fetch the cook. He didn’t invite Jem inside. He just stood there, studying him.
“May I talk to her?” Jem finally asked. He wanted to shove his way inside. Will was baiting him, trying to make him lose his temper. It nearly choked him, but Jem added, “Please?”
Will smirked and flung the door open all the way. “I suppose. Come on in.”
He left Jem standing in the kitchen. The black cook stove radiated a stifling heat. Pots and pans bubbled; a tea kettle whistled. The odor of roast beef and boiling potatoes made Jem’s stomach rumble. This meal is not for you, he told his belly.
Will returned a minute later with Cook. He snatched another cookie from a cooling rack and said, “Make it fast, Jem. Cook’s busy.”
Cook rounded on Will. Her gray eyes snapped. “I’ll have none of your lip in my kitchen, Master William, or the missus’ll hear about you snackin’ between meals.”
Will gulped and nodded.
Jem hid a grin. It was clear who ruled the Sterlings’ kitchen.
Cook turned to Jem with a smile. “What can I be doin’ for you today, Jem? It’s not Saturday. Are you delivering wood early?”
“No, ma’am. I …” Jem paused to see if Will would leave the room and give them some privacy. He didn’t. The sneaky weasel settled himself on top of a stool, all ears. I should have known. Well, no matter. “I came to tell you that I won’t be delivering your firewood anymore.”
Cook threw up her hands. “Merciful heavens! Why not?”
Will stopped chewing. His brown eyes bugged out. Jem knew why. Every boy in town clamored for the Sterlings’ firewood business. Jem had offers to swap for it every few months.
“Well …” Jem squirmed. Then he took a deep breath and let his words tumble out. He didn’t care if Will heard them. “My pa’s having a rough time right now. He’s standing up against Mr. Sterling, even though he doesn’t want to see the mine fail and Goldtown die. But he’s got no choice, not like the rest of the town. He’s the sheriff and has to uphold the law.” Jem swallowed. “Even for scavengers.”
Will’s mouth dropped open.
Jem squared his shoulders. “I reckon I can take a stand too and drop Mr. Sterling from my route. I want to show him that even though I’m not sure if I’m on the scavengers’ side, I am on Pa’s side.” His shoulders slumped. “I know Cole Thompson wants this route. He’s reliable. I’ll let him know he can have it.”
Cook didn’t answer for a moment. Instead, she pressed her lips together and blinked. Then she took a corner of her apron and wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry to lose you, Jem,” she finally said. “But goodness! Wouldn’t your mama be proud if she could see you now.” She thrust a warm sugar cookie into Jem’s hand. “Here. You go along now and don’t be worrin’ ’bout your pa. The good Lord’ll take care of all this, you’ll see.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jem mumbled. “Thank you, ma’am.” He jammed the sugary treat into his mouth and left in a hurry, anxious to get away before Will could tease him. Jem could hear him now: I knew you were a fool, Jem, but to give up the best customer in all of Goldtown makes you dumber than dumb.
Without the Sterlings, Jem’s firewood business would take a permanent nosedive. He’d already lost the Big Strike, when Pa pulled the plug on delivering sawdust to a saloon. Now he was down to two firewood customers and a scant handful of folks who wanted frog legs. With summer in full swing, his frog-leg business would soon dry up too.
“I’m gonna be broke,” Jem mourned as he mounted Copper and urged him toward home. Not even the extra free time to pan for gold cheered him. By late summer, Cripple Creek would be dried up to a mere trickle, making it extra hard to wash gold.
Alone with his thoughts, Jem plodded down the winding road from Belle Hill to town. He didn’t turn around when he heard the sound of hoofbeats clattering behind him. It’s probably Chad, wanting to pan more gold. Jem didn’t feel like going to the creek. Besides, he had about a million chores waiting for him at home.
“Hey, Jem!” Will’s nasal voice pierced the air.
Roasted rattlesnakes! Why can’t Will leave me alone? He readied his heels above Copper’s flank. One swift kick and Prince Charming would be left in the dust. Literally. But the look on Will’s face when he pulled up beside Copper made Jem tuck in his feet and pause. “What do you want?”
“Nothin’,” Will replied. “I’m headed for town. Thought I’d ride along with you.”
“Why?” Jem didn’t know what to make of Will’s sudden show of friendliness.
Will shrugged. “No reason, I guess.” Then he sighed. “All right. There’s a reason. Father’s been in a ranting, yelling, stomping rage all week. I had to get outta there.” He eyed Jem. “He’s mad as all get out at your pa, and now …” His voice trailed off.
“Yeah?” Jem urged. “Now what?”
“The Carters are moving to the hotel in town. They must not like my father’s mood any better than I do.”
“If they’re smart, they’ll go back to their ranch,” Jem muttered.
Will cracked a smile. “Yeah.”
Jem rounded the corner to Main Street and shrugged. “See ya, Will.” It was the polite thing to say, even though he hoped he didn’t see Will Sterling or his father for a long, long time. Will waved and went his own way. A couple more blocks and Jem would be rid of the town and back on the ranch. He planned to stay there until all this mine business blew over. Safer that way.
A sudden squeal of pain and terror pulled Jem away from his plans. A group of boys half a block away surrounded Wu Shen. They were bullying him. Again. Jem’s anger burned red hot. He might not agree with the Chinese miners’ decision to hold on to their mine, but he would not let anyone pick on his friend.
“Leave him alone!” he shouted, urging Copper forward.
The boys ignored Jem and continued to attack Shen. Dutch Warner overturned Shen’s two-wheeled pushcart. One wheel came loose, and his load of laundry went flying. Tom Lange clutched a fistful of Shen’s long pigtail. Even Jem’s friend Cole was taking part. He had Shen by one arm, holding him tight, while two others threw swift punches at their helpless victim.
Furious, Jem plowed Copper into the middle of the group. Now they would listen! A cry of surprise and rage mixed with Copper’s whinny and Shen’s screeching. Cole and another boy fled, one cradling his arm and limping.
“I hope Copper stepped on your foot!” Jem yelled after him. He looked around. Tom and Dutch had dodged the horse and were hitting and pulling at Shen. Freddy Stone held him tight. Jem yanked on Copper’s reins. The horse shied to the left and rammed into Tom.
Tom reached out and snagged Jem’s ankle, keeping his balance. Then he curled his other hand around Jem’s leg and yanked. Other eager hands grasped Jem’s britches and shirt. With a triumphant shout, the boys pulled Jem off his horse and into the fray.
CHAPTER 14
Fight!
Jem came up swinging. He knew if he stayed on the ground, he was done for. Tom and the others would pile on top of him, and that would be the end of it. A sudden punch to his still-tender “brand” sent searing pain up Jem’s arm, making him reel backward with a gasp. He curled his fist and drove it straight for Tom’s face.
Jem might as well have tried to hit a fly in mid-air. Tom ducked the blow, grasped Jem’s shoulders, and spun him around. Freddy’s fist plunged into Jem’s stomach. He collapsed in a crumpled heap.
“Stay outta this, Jem.” Tom swiped a hank of dirty brown hair from his face and glowered. “I got no reason to fight you.”
Jem sucked in air to steady his shaking arms and legs then staggered to his feet. He faced the three bullies, clenching his fists. For ten whole seconds, nobody moved a muscle or blinked an eye. “Leave Shen alone,” Jem finally said between clenched teeth.
Tom curled his lip. “You’ve got one chance, Jem. Walk away. Now.”
Jem’s hammering heart skipped a beat. What was Tom up to? Once the older boy go
t riled, he never backed down. Why would he give Jem a chance to escape? Run and find Pa, Jem’s good sense told him. His throbbing arm and belly screamed the same command.
One look at Wu Shen sent all good sense flying from Jem’s head. I don’t have time to find Pa. Blood smeared the Chinese boy’s nose and mouth. Dutch held him fast with one hand. His other hand clutched a pocketknife. Jem caught his breath.
Dutch laughed. “I’m just gonna give the China boy a haircut. A little message to the scavengers to get out before somethin’ worse happens.” He yanked hard on Shen’s pigtail. The boy winced.
“What you do right now, Jem,” Tom said, “will show if you’re on the town’s side or on the side of dirty, yellow scavengers.” He paused and spat. “We know where the sheriff stands. But it ain’t your fault your pa’s a—”
“Shut up!” A hot flush soared through Jem at Tom’s words. How dare he insult Pa! The flush raced down his arm and made his hand curl up almost on its own. He raised his fist and smashed it head-on into Dutch’s sneering face. Blood spurted from his nose. Bull’s eye!
“Run, Shen!” Jem shouted.
Dutch howled and dropped his knife. But he didn’t let go of Shen. The Chinese boy reached down and bit his captor’s hand then wrenched free. He took two steps toward freedom before Freddy yanked him back into Dutch’s grip.
Jem was rubbing his sore knuckles when Tom came for him—shoulders heaving and roaring like a bull. Down the two boys went, rolling and scuffling in the dusty street. “Reckon we’ll give the sheriff a message about which side he should choose,” Tom hissed in Jem’s ear.
Jem was too busy focusing on staying in one piece to answer. One-on-one, Jem and Tom were equally matched, and Jem was angry enough to emerge the victor. But two to one? Or three to one? If only Shen would lend a hand and defend himself, maybe we’d have a chance, Jem thought as he warded off another blow.
Even if he’d wanted to help, Shen’s slight build was no match for the taller, heavier boys. He was clawing and biting the best he could, but Dutch ignored his own bleeding nose and gripped Shen’s pigtail like a leash on a dog. He landed his punches with little effort.
When Freddy joined Tom, Jem knew he would lose this fight. His head felt like it might explode any second. A hard smack had reopened the gash from last week. Jem had forgotten all about that injury until this moment.
He suddenly realized he’d been a fool to get himself into this fix when he wasn’t at his best. But what else could he have done? Walk away and let those bullies beat up Wu Shen? Let them humiliate his friend and cut off his queue? All because Shen’s family refused to give up their mine?
Another surge of fury gave Jem the strength to dodge the boys’ attempts to plant his face in the dirt. A grunt from Freddy told Jem one of his kicks had hit home. But it was too little, too late. Jem was ready to cry “uncle.” He hurt all over. He opened his mouth to admit defeat.
Suddenly, the pressure on his arms eased off. Tom rolled to one side and stood up.
Panting, Jem twisted around to see what had loosened Tom’s grip. Will Sterling stood on the fringe, eyes bright, with his hands on his hips. Oh, no! I’m done for. Four against one are odds nobody can beat.
Jem and Will scuffled at least once during every school term. The rest of the year they maintained an uneasy truce. Jem saw the eager look in his eyes and knew Will would get payback today for all the times Jem had licked him in the past.
He groaned.
“You’re just in time for a piece of this, Will,” Dutch said, grinning. He held out the knife and nodded at Shen’s long, black pigtail. “You wanna do the honors?”
Will dropped his hands to his side and ignored Dutch. Instead, he waded into the middle of the group. The smirk never left his face as he reached down and pulled Jem to his feet.
Jem tensed in readiness for the coming blows.
Then, smack! Will rounded on Tom and landed a punch to his mid-section. The older boy curled over and went down with a startled yelp. Dutch and Freddy gaped.
Jem took advantage of their frozen looks and yanked Shen from Dutch’s grip. He gave the Chinese boy a shove that sent him reeling. “Get out of here!”
He didn’t wait to see if Shen obeyed but turned to give Will a hand. He suddenly felt full of energy. He ignored his aches and pains and stepped to Will’s side. Three-to-two odds were much, much better!
It looked like the bullies agreed. Tom lurched to his feet, clutching his belly. He glared at Jem and Will, but the fight had clearly gone out of him. Dutch pocketed his knife and elbowed Freddy. Without a word, the two boys scurried around the nearest corner. Tom shot one last, furious look at Jem … then Will … and slunk after his chums.
Alone with his surprising rescuer, Jem didn’t know what to say. The two boys looked at each other until Will finally shrugged and turned to leave.
Jem thrust out his hand. “I don’t know why you did it, but thanks just the same.”
Will shook Jem’s hand. “I don’t know why either,” he admitted. “But if the sheriff showed up, like he was bound to do if the fight went on much longer, I reckon I’d rather be on your side than those others.”
Will dropped his hand and let out a breath. “I wish those scavengers would pack up and leave, but I’ve got nothin’ against the China boy. Beating him up won’t solve my father’s or the miners’ problems.”
Jem looked around. “Tom and the others sure made a mess of Wu Shen’s things.”
Will threw up his hands and backed away. “Hold on, Jem. I helped you, but I’m not cleaning up after no Chinese.” He turned and ran off the way he’d come.
Jem was tempted to grab Copper and gallop away. After all, he’d saved Shen’s honor and helped him get away. That’s enough for one day. His throbbing head and sore fists agreed. But Jem knew that if somebody didn’t gather up the ruined laundry, Shen would return to do it. The bullies were no doubt lingering close by to have another go at him if he did.
Feeling like a fool, Jem reached down and turned the broken cart right side up. Half the town was probably looking on, but not one adult had stepped in to break up the fight.
Jem cringed. News of Pa’s stand with the Chinese miners must have traveled far and fast. Nobody would be inclined to help the sheriff’s son. Not today. He gathered the filthy linens and dumped them in the lopsided cart. Then he looked around for the missing wheel.
“Can I give you a hand with that?”
Jem whirled. Pa stood a few yards away, wheel in hand.
“W-why, sure, Pa,” Jem stammered. He knew he looked a mess. A stay-out-of-fights-or-else scolding was surely coming his way. He reddened.
But Pa said nothing about the fight. He just quickly repaired Shen’s cart and stayed close to Jem’s side all the way back to Wu Jiang’s laundry on China Alley.
Aunt Rose didn’t say anything about the fight either, which surprised Jem even more. Auntie was dead set against boys getting involved in scuffles of any kind. “Only low, common children resort to fists,” she often said.
One look at Jem’s black eye and swollen lip should have sent Aunt Rose through the roof. But she only pressed her lips together and flicked a disapproving glance at Pa, as if he had encouraged such behavior. “It appears you’re more than ready to return to your ranch chores, Jeremiah,” was all she said.
Pa must’ve pulled Auntie aside and warned her ahead of time, Jem decided two days later, sitting up on the wagon seat near the Wilsons’ back door. Maybe Pa figured standing up for Wu Shen was worth getting a black eye for. Whatever the reason, Jem had gotten off scot-free from any punishment.
He waited for Nathan and Ellie to climb aboard, then released the brake and headed for Main Street.
“We just got the Morrisons’ firewood to deliver,” Ellie reminded him. “Then we can go out to the creek.”
Jem glanced at the town’s small tower clock and groaned. It read a quarter to five. Aunt Rose may not have scolded Jem for the fight, but she’d managed t
o fill the last two days with mountains of chores. “By the time we finish with Mr. Morrison’s order, it will be too late to do any panning,” he told Ellie. “But you can hop off now and go out there if you like.”
A glare gave Jem his answer. Ellie had gotten a taste of her brother’s firewood business last week. She clearly wanted to keep earning a few pennies stacking wood. It looked like Nathan wanted a continuing piece of the business too. For once, he was dressed for work. A pair of faded overalls had replaced the fancy duds he’d worn before.
“Hey, Jem! Wait!” A familiar voice hailed the wagon when it passed the Grand Hotel. Chad pounded into the street and snatched the horses’ bridles. “Where are you off to?”
“Delivering stove wood to the mining superintendent,” Jem replied.
“Need a hand?” Chad’s face showed his eagerness. “I’m bored to death. Staying at the Grand is near as dull as staying out at the Sterlings.”
Jem’s face fell. He couldn’t afford to hire any more help.
Chad laughed. “You don’t need to pay me.” Without waiting for an answer, he swung up on the wagon seat and squeezed in between Nathan and Ellie.
Nathan yelped and clutched the wagon seat. “Watch it! You nearly shoved me off. This seat’s not big enough for four.”
Jem chuckled and slapped the horses. They’d gone no more than two blocks when he pulled Copper and Silver to another stop. “Shen!” Jem called out to his friend in the street. “How are you?”
“At this rate, we’ll never get done,” Ellie muttered.
Jem elbowed her into silence and hopped down. One look at the cargo told Jem that Wu Shen was having a hard time today. Instead of laundry, his rickety cart was loaded down with pickaxes, shovels, drill spikes, and sledge hammers. A leather strap was wrapped around Shen’s shoulders to help steady the load as he lugged it along on two wheels. Sweat beaded his forehead.
“I am fine, Jem,” he said, smiling.
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