*CHAPTER XXIV*
_*For Fear of Judge Lynch*_
The long, dragging scream of wheels came to our ears, putting an end tothis mutual admiration; and then there came out of the cool of the woodsbelow, where the honeysuckle showed, into the blaze of the hillside,with its grey-blue granite blocks and their blue shadows, a largeBain-waggon drawn by two horses.
On either side of it two men rode on dark horses. The sheriff signed tothe cortege to stop, and by the time that we had descended to this partythe waggon was turned about.
"Well," said the sheriff to Slim who was driving the team, his horsehitched behind, "you got it from him. Was he kind o' slow about lendin'it?"
"Nosiree," said Slim. "He was settin' on a dump near the cable-housewhen I got to the mine, settin' shying crusts o' punk at thechipmunks--they 've a pow'ful lot of them around the Molly Magee--and heseemed kind o' astonished to see me. 'Up to business?' he says, 'up tobusiness? You ain't goin' to take him away from me?' he says, meanin',of course, the violinist----"
Apache said to me at that: "Remind me to tell you what he means--aboutthe violinist."
"So I jest tells him no," continued Slim, "and asked him the loan o' oneof his waggons, and he says, 'What for?' And I takes him by the lapelo' his coat an' says, 'Can you keep a secret?' and he says then, 'Aha,'he says, 'I know what it is. You got Apache Kid on the hill there andyou want the waggon to get him through the city for fear o' any of theboys tryin' to get a shot at him.' Says I: 'Who told you? Guessagain.' And he says he reckoned he would lend me the waggon, and rightpleased" (Slim shot a meaning look at Apache Kid), "but as for keepin'quiet, that was beyond him, he said."
"Dern!" said the sheriff. "So he 'll be telling the Magee boys andhavin' 'em comin' huntin' after us, like enough, for our prisoner, iffeelin' is high about this."
Slim laid a finger to his nose. "Nosiree," said he. "I jest told himif he could n't keep holt o' our secret for three hours, and give us astart, that first thing he knew we'd come along and be liftin' hisviolinist, some fine day, along with a nice French policeman or sheriff,or what they call 'em there--_grand army_ or something--all the way fromParis."
The sheriff gloated on this.
"That would tighten him up some," said he.
"It did," replied Slim, and would have continued to pat himself on theback for his diplomacy, I believe, but the sheriff turned abruptly toApache Kid and me and ordered us with a new sharpness, because of thenewcomers, I suppose, to get into the waggon; and soon we were goingbriskly down-hill, the four mounted men riding two by two on eitherside, the sheriff loping along by the team's side and my pack-horsetrotting behind, with Slim's mount in charge of the Indian.
We gathered from the remarks of the sheriff that these four men had beencamped down-hill a little way for three days, out of sight of the waggontrack, awaiting our coming. Slim had evidently, after securing thewaggon, picked them up.
"That violinist," said Apache Kid to me, "that Slim mentioned to theMolly Magee boss by way of a threat, is rather a notable figure here.He was leader of an orchestra in Paris, embezzled money, bolted out hereand up at the Molly Magee gets his three and a half dollars a day ofminer's wages and keeps his hands as soft as a child's. He could n'ttap a drill on the head two consecutive times to save his life."
"What do they keep him for, then?" I asked. "And why do they pay him?"though really I was not much interested in violinists at the time andwondered how Apache Kid could talk at all or do else than long forgetting well out of this grievous pass that he was in. And, from hisown lips, I knew he thought his condition serious.
"Well," said he, "the reason why gives you an idea of how very stiff aminer's lot is in some places. The Molly Magee mine is a wet mine, verywet, and it lies in a sort of notch on the hill where the wind is alwayscold. Crossing from the mine to the bunkhouse men have been known totake a pain in the back between the shoulder-blades, bend forward, andremark on the acuteness of it and be dead in three hours--of pneumonia.It's a wet mine and a cold hill. This violinist is just a Godsend tothe owners. Instead of having to be content with whoever they can get towork the mine for them they have the pick of the miners of theterritory; even most of the _muckers_ in the mine are reallyfull-fledged miners, but are yet content to take muckers' wages--and allbecause of this violinist. He plays to them, you see, and his fame hasgone far and wide over the territory. The Molly Magee, bad mine thoughshe is, with a store of coffins always kept there, never lacks forminers. That's what they keep our violinist for."
But we were jolting well down-hill now and soon caught glimpses of BakerCity between the trees.
"I reckon you better lie down in the bottom of that there waggon," saidthe sheriff, looking round, his left hand resting on his horse'squarters. "When they see you it might rouse them."
"Sir!" said Apache (it was the first word he had spoken, apart from histalk with me, since the guard joined us), "I 'm innocent of this charge,and I want to live to disprove it, not for my own honour alone. For manyreasons, for many reasons I want to disprove it. But I 'm damned if Igrovel in the bottom of a waggon for any hobo in Baker City!"
The sheriff said not a word in reply, just nodded his head as though tosay, "So be it, then," stayed his horse till the waggon came abreast,leant from his saddle and spoke a word to Slim, who suddenly emitted ayell that caused the horses to leap forward.
The guard on either side had their Winchesters with the butts on theirright thighs--and so we went flying into Baker City, the sheriff againspurring ahead; so we whirled along, with a glimpse of the LaughlinHouse, dashed down that street, suddenly attracting the attention ofthose who stayed there, and they, grasping the situation after amoment's hesitation, came pounding down on the wooden sidewalks afterus.
So we swept into Baker Street, where a great cry got up, and men rose onthe one-storey-up verandahs of the hotels and craned out to look on us;and the throng ran on the sidewalks on either side.
Apache Kid had a sneer beginning on his lips, but that changed and hisbrows knitted as a man who, on toting up a sum, finds the result otherthan he expected. For those, who saw our arrival waved their hats inair and cheered our passage; and it was with a deal of wonder andastonishment that I saw the look of admiration on the brown faces thatshowed through the dust we raised. To me it looked as though, had thesemen cared to combine to stop our progress, it would not have been tohale Apache Kid before Judge Lynch, but rather to have taken the horsesfrom the waggon, as you see students do with the carriage of some manwho is their momentary hero, and drag us in triumph through the city.
The sheriff had expected to find the city enraged at us, anxious to do"justice" in a summary fashion.
This cheering must have puzzled him. It certainly puzzled us.
The Lost Cabin Mine Page 24