Flowing Gold

by Rex Beach

  CHAPTER IV

  A year before this story opens the town of Ranger, Texas, consisted ofa weatherbeaten, run-down railroad station, a blacksmith shop, and ahitching rail, town enough, incidentally, for the limited number ofpeople and the scanty amount of merchandise that passed through it.Ranger lay in the dry belt--considered an almost entirely useless partof the state--where killing droughts were not uncommon, and where formonths on end the low, flinty hills radiate heat like the rolls of asteel mill. In such times even the steep, tortuous canyons dried outand there was neither shade nor moisture in them. The few farms andranches round about were scattered widely, and life thereon was a grimstruggle against heartbreak, by reason of the gaunt, gray, ever-presentspecter of the drought. Of late this particular region had provenitself to be one of violent extremes, of extreme dryness during whichflowers failed to bloom, the grass shriveled and died, and even thetrees refused to put forth leaves; or, more rarely, of extreme wetness,when the country was drowned beneath torrential rains. Sometimes,during unusual winters, the heavens opened and spilled themselves,choking the narrow watercourses, washing out roads and destroyingfields, changing the arid arroyos into raging river beds. At such timeslife for the country people was scarcely less burdensome than duringthe droughts, for the heavy bottom lands became quagmires, and the clayof the higher levels turned into putty or a devilish agglutinoussubstance that rendered travel for man or beast or vehicle almostimpossible.

  There appeared to be no law of average here. In dry times it was adesert, lacking wholly, however, in the beauty, the mystery, and thespell of a desert; in wet times it was a gehenna of mud and slush andstickiness, and entirely minus that beauty and freshness that attendsthe rainy seasons in a tropic clime. It was a land peopled by ahard-bitten race of nesters--come from God knows where and for Godknows why--starved in mind and body, slaves of a hideous environmentfrom which they lacked means of escape.

  Geologists had claimed for some time that there must be coal in thesenorth Texas counties, a contention perhaps based upon a comfortablebelief in the law of compensation, upon a theory that a region so pooraboveground must of necessity contain values of some sort beneath thesurface. But as for other natural resources, they scouted the belief insuch. Other parts of the state yielded oil, for instance, but here theformation was all wrong. Who ever heard of oil in hard lime?

  Nevertheless, petroleum was discovered, and among the fraternity thatdealt in it Ranger became a word of contradiction and of deep meaning.Aladdin rubbed his lamp, and, lo! a magic transformation occurred; oneof those thrilling dramas of a dramatic industry was played. A gypsycamp sprang up beside the blacksmith shop, and as the weeks fled by itchanged into a village of wooden houses, then into a town, and sooninto a city of brick and iron and concrete. The railroad became cloggedwith freight, a tidal wave of men broke over the town. Wagons, giantmotor trucks, caterpillar tractors towing long strings of trailers,lurched and groaned and creaked over the hills, following roads unfitfor a horse and buggy. Straddling derricks reared themselveseverywhere; their feet were set in garden patches, in plowed fields, inlonely mesquite pastures, and even high up on the crests of stonyridges. One day their timbers were raw and clean, the next day theywere black and greasy, advertising the fact that once again the heavyrock pressure far below had sent another fountain of fortune sprayingover the top. Then pipe lines were laid and unsightly tank farms werebuilt.

  Ranger became a mobilization point, a vast concentration camp forsupplies, and amid its feverish activity there was no rest, no Sundaysor holidays; the work went on at top tension night and day amid aclangor of metal, a ceaseless roar of motors, a bedlam of hammers andsaws and riveters. Men lived in greasy clothes, breathing dust and theodors of burnt gas mainly, eating poor food and drinking warm, fetidwater when they were lucky enough to get any at all.

  This was about the state of affairs that Calvin Gray found on themorning of his arrival. He and Mallow had managed to secure a Pullmansection on the night train from Dallas; the fact that they were forcedto carry their own luggage from the station uptown to the restaurantwhere they hoped to get breakfast was characteristic of the place. Enroute thither they had to elbow their way through a crowd that filledthe sidewalks as if on a fair day.

  Mallow was well acquainted with the town, it appeared, and duringbreakfast he maintained a running fire of comment, some of which wasworth listening to.

  "Ever hear how the first discovery was made? Well, the T. P. Companyhad the whole country plastered with coal leases and finally decided toput down a fifteen-hundred-foot wildcat. The guy that ran the rig had ahunch there was oil here if he went deep enough, but he knew thecompany wouldn't stick, so he faked the log of the well as long as hecould, then he kept on drilling, against orders--refused to open hismail, for fear he'd find he was fired and the job called off. He was athousand feet deeper than he'd been ordered to go when--blooie! Overthe top she went with fourteen hundred barrels.... Desdemona's the nameof a camp below here, but they call it Hog Town. More elegant! Downthere the derricks actually straddle one another, and they have toboard them over to keep from drowning one another out when they blowin. Fellow in Dallas brought in the first well, and it was so big thathis stock went from a hundred dollars a share to twelve thousand. Allin a few weeks. Of course, he started a bank. Funniest people I eversaw, that way. Usually when a rube makes a winning he gambles or getshim a woman, but these hicks take their coin and buy banks.... Ranger'sa real town; everything wide open and the law in on the play. Thatmakes good times. Show me a camp where the gamblers play solitaire andthe women take in washing and I'll show you a dead village. The jointshere have big signs on the wall, '_Gambling Positively Prohibited_,'and underneath the games are running high, wide, and fancy. Refinedhumor, I call it.... There were nine killings one day, but that's abovethe average. The last time I was in town a couple of tool dressers gotinto a row with a laundryman--claimed they'd been overcharged sixcents. It came to a shooting, and we buried all three of them. Twocents apiece! That was their closing price. The cost of living is highenough, but it isn't expensive to die here."

  In this vein ran Mallow's talk. From the first he had laid himself outto be entertaining and helpful, and Gray obligingly permitted him tohave his way. When they had finished breakfast, he even allowed hiscompanion to hire an automobile and driver for him. They shook handsfinally, the best of friends. Mallow wished him good luck and gravelyvoiced the hope that he would have fewer diamonds when he returned.Gray warmly thanked his companion for his many courtesies and declaredthey would soon meet again.

  Thus far the trip had worked out much as Gray had expected. Now, as hisservice car left the town and joined the dusty procession of vehiclesmoving country-ward, he covertly studied its driver and was gratifiedto note that the fellow bore all the ear-marks of a thorough scoundrel.What conversation the man indulged in strengthened that impression.

  The Briskow farm, it appeared, lay about twenty miles out, but twentymiles over oil-field roads proved to be quite a journey. During themuddy season the driver declared, it might well take a whole day tomake that distance; now that the roads were dry, they could probablycover it in two or three hours, if the car held together. Traffic nearRanger was terrific, and how it managed to move, even at a snail'space, was a mystery, for to sit a car was like riding a bucking horse.If there had been the slightest attempts at road building they were nowinvisible, and the vehicular streams followed meandering wagon trailslaid down by the original inhabitants of pre-petroleum days, which hadnot been bettered by the ceaseless pounding of the past twelve months.Up and down, over armored ridges and into sandy arroyos, along leaninghillsides and across 'dobe flats, baked brick hard by the sun, thecurrent of travel roared and pounded with reckless disregard of tireand bolt and axle. In the main, it was a motor-driven procession. Therewere, to be sure, occasional teams of fine imported draft horses, butfor every head of live stock there were a dozen huge trucks, and forevery truck a score of passenger cars. These last were b
attered andgray with mud, and their dusty occupants were of a color to match, forthey drove blindly through an asphyxiating cloud. Even the thirstyvegetation beside the roads was coated gray, and was so tinder dry thatit seemed as if a lighted match would explode it.

  The sun glared cruelly, and the pyramidal piles of iron pipe chained tothe groaning trucks and plunging trailers were hot enough to fry eggsupon, but neither they nor the steaming radiators gave off more heatthan the soil and the rocks.

  Detours were common--testimony to man's inherent optimism--but each wasworse than the other, the roadbeds everywhere were rutted, torn, brokenup as if from long-continued heavy shell fire.

  From every ridge skeleton derricks were in sight as far as the eyecould reach, the scattered ones, whose clean timbers gleamed in thesunlight, testifying to dry holes; the blackened ones, usually inclumps, indicating "production"--magic word.

  There were a few crossroads settlements--"hitch-rail towns"--unpaintedand ramshackle, but nowhere was there an attempt at farming, for thispart of Texas had gone hog wild over oil. Abandoned straw stacks hadsettled and molded, cornfields had grown up to weeds, what few head ofcattle still remained lolled near the artificial surface tanks, all butdried into mud holes.

  It was a farm of this character that Gray's driver finally pointed outas the Briskow ranch. The house, an unsightly story-and-a-half affair,stood at the back of what had once been a cultivated field, and theplace was distinctive only in the fact that it gave evidence of a goodwater well, or a capacious reservoir, in the form of a vivid greengarden patch and a few flourishing peach trees immediately behind theresidence--welcome relief to the eye.

  Nobody answered Gray's knock at the front door, so he walked around thehouse. Over the garden fence, grown thick with brambles, he beheld twofeminine figures, or rather two faded sunbonnets topping two pairs ofshoulders, and as he drew nearer he saw that one woman was bent andslow moving, while the other was a huge creature, wide of hip and deepof bosom, whose bare arms, burnt to a rich golden brown, were likethose of a blacksmith, and who wielded her heavy hoe as if it were atoy. She was singing in a thin, nasal, uncultivated voice.

  Evidently they were the Briskow "help," therefore Gray made hispresence known and inquired for the master or mistress of the place.

  The elder woman turned, exposing a shrewd, benevolent face, and after amoment of appraisal said, "I'm Miz' Briskow."

  "Indeed!" The visitor smiled his best and announced the nature of hiserrand.

  "Lawsy me!" Mrs. Briskow planted her hoe in the soil and turned herback upon Gray. "Allie! Yore pa has gone an' done it again. Here'sanother of his fool notions."

  The women regarded each other silently, their facial expressions hiddenbeneath their bonnets; then the mother exposed her countenance a secondtime, and said, "Mister, this is Allegheny, our girl."

  Miss Allegheny Briskow lifted her head, nodded shortly, and stared overthe hoe handle at Gray. Her gaze was one of frank curiosity, and hereturned it in kind, for he had never beheld a creature like her. Graywas a tall man, but this girl's eyes met his on a level, and herfigure, if anything, was heavier than his. Nor was its appearanceimproved by her shapeless garment of faded wash material. Her feet wereincased in a pair of men's cheap "brogans" that Gray could have worn;drops of perspiration gleamed upon her face, and her hair, what littlewas visible beneath the sunbonnet, was wet and untidy. Altogether shepresented a picture such as some painter of peasant types might havesketched. Garbed appropriately, in shawl and sabots, she would havepassed for some European plowwoman of Amazonian proportions. Allegheny!It was a suitable name, indeed, for such a mountainous person. Her sizewas truly heroic; she would have been grotesque, ridiculous, except fora certain youthful plasticity and a suggestion of tremendous vigor andstrength that gave her dignity. Her ample, ill-fitting dress failed tohide the fact that her robust body was well, even splendidly molded.

  Gray's attention, however, was particularly challenged by the girl'sface and eyes. It was a handsome countenance, cut in large, boldfeatures, but of a stony immobility; the eyes were watchful, brooding,sullen. They regarded him with mingled defiance and shyness for aninstant, then they avoided his; she averted her gaze; she appeared tobe meditating ignominious flight.

  The mother abandoned her labor, wiped her hands upon her skirt, andsaid, with genuine hospitality: "Come right into the house and restyourself. Pa and Buddy'll be home at dinner time." By now a fullersignificance of this stranger's presence had struck home and shelaughed softly as she led the way toward the dwelling. "Di'mon's forAllie and me, eh? Land sakes! Pa's up to something new every day,lately. I wonder what next."

  As Gray stepped aside for the younger woman to precede him, hiscuriosity must have been patent, for Allegheny became even moreself-conscious than before, and her face flamed a fiery red. As yet shehad not spoken.

  There were three rooms to the Briskow residence, bedrooms all, with asemi-detached, ramshackle, whitewashed kitchen at the rear andseparated from the main house by a narrow "gallery." Into the frontchamber, which evidently did service also as a parlor, Mrs. Briskow ledthe way. By now she was in quite a flutter of excitement. For the guestshe drew forth the one rocking chair, a patent contraption, the rockersof which were held upon a sort of track by stout spiral springs. Itsseat and back were of cheap carpet material stretched over a lacqueredframe, and these she hastily dusted with her apron; then she seatedherself upon the edge of the bed and beamed expectantly.

  Allegheny had carelessly brushed back her sunbonnet, exposing a mane ofdamp, straight, brown hair of a quantity and length to match hertremendous vigor of limb; but she remained standing at the foot of thebed, too ill at ease to take a chair or perhaps too agitated to seeone. She was staring straight ahead, her eyes fixed a foot or two overthe caller's head.

  Gray ignored her manifest embarrassment, made a gingerly acquaintancewith the chair of honor, and then devoted his attention to the elderwoman. At every move the coiled springs under him strained and snappedalarmingly.

  "We don't often see jewelry peddlers," the mother announced; "but,sakes alive! things is changin' so fast we get a new surprise mostevery day. I s'pose you got those rings in that valise?" She indicatedGray's stout leather sample case.

  "Precisely," said he. "If you have time I'd like to show them to you."

  Mrs. Briskow's bent figure stirred, she uttered a throaty chuckle, andher weary face, lined with the marks of toil and hardship, flushedfaintly. Her misshapen hands tightly clasped themselves and her fadedeyes began to sparkle. Gray felt a warm thrill of compassion at theagitation of this kindly, worn old soul, and he rose quickly. As hegained his feet that amazing chair behaved in a manner wholly unusualand startling; relieved of strain, the springs snapped and whined,there was a violent oscillation of the back, a shudder convulsed thething, and it sprang after him, much as a tame rabbit thumps its feetupon the ground in an effort to bluff a kitten.

  The volunteer salesman spread out his dazzling wares upon the patchworkcounterpane, then stepped back to observe the effect. Ma Briskow'shands fluttered toward the gems, then reclasped themselves in her lap;she bent closer and regarded them fixedly. The Juno-like daughter alsostared down at the display with fascination.

  After a moment Allegheny spoke, and her speaking voice was in pleasingcontrast to the nasal notes of that interrupted song. "Are them _real_di'mon's?" she queried, darkly.

  "Oh yes! And most of them are of very fine quality."

  "Pa never told us a word," breathed the mother. "He's _allus_ up tosome trick."

  "Please examine them. I want you to look them all over," Gray urged.

  Mrs. Briskow acted upon this invitation only after she had dried herhands, and then with trepidation. Gingerly, reverently she removed aring from its resting place and held it up to the light. "My! Ain't itsparkly?" she gasped, after an ecstatic pause.

  Again the girl spoke, her eyes fixed defiantly upon Gray. "You couldfool us easy, 'cause we never saw _real_ di'mon's. We've allus bee
n toopore."

  The man nodded. "I hope you're not disappointed in them and I hope youare going to see and to own a great many finer ones.

  "We've never seen noth--anything, nor been anywhere, yet." It was Mrs.Briskow speaking. "But we're goin'. We're goin' lots of places andwe're goin' to see everything wuth seein', so Pa says. Anyhow, thechildren is. First off, Pa's goin' to take us to the mountains." Themother faced the visitor at this announcement and for a moment sheappeared to be gazing at a vision, for her wrinkled countenance wasglorified. "You've seen 'em, haven't you, mister?"

  "Mountains? A great many."

  Allegheny broke in: "I dunno's these di'mon's is just what _I_ expected'em to be. They are and--they ain't. I'm kind of disapp'inted."

  Gray smiled. "That is true of most things that we anticipate or aspireto. It's the tragedy of accomplishment--to find that our rewards arenever quite up to our expectations."

  "Do they cost much?"

  "Oh, decidedly! The prices are all plainly marked. Please look themover."

  Ma Briskow did as urged, but the shock was paralyzing; delight,admiration, expectancy, gave place to horrified amazement at thefigures upon the tags. She shook her head slowly and made repeatedsounds of disapproval.

  "Tse! Tse! Tse! Why, your pa's crazy! Plumb crazy!"

  Although the mother's principal emotion for the moment was aroused bythe price marks on the price tags, Allegheny paid little attention tothem and began vainly fitting ring after ring to her fingers. All weretoo small, however; most of them refused to pass even the first joint,and Gray realized now what Gus Briskow had meant when he wrote forrings "of large sises." Eventually the girl found one that slipped intoplace, and this she regarded with complacent admiration.

  "This one'll do for me," she declared. "And it's a whopper!"

  Gray took her hand in his; as yet it had not been greatly distorted bymanual labor, but the nails were dull and cracked and ragged and theywere inlaid in deep mourning. "I don't believe you'll like thatmounting," he said, gently. "It's what we call a man's ring. This isthe kind women usually wear." He held up a thin platinum band ofdelicate workmanship which Allegheny examined with frank disdain.

  [Image: "THIS ONE'LL DO FOR ME," SHE DECLARED. "AND IT'S A WHOPPER!"]

  "Pshaw! I'd bust that the first time I hoed a row of 'taters," shedeclared. "I got to have things stout, for me."

  "But," Gray protested, in even a milder voice, "you probably wouldn'twant to wear expensive jewelry in the garden."

  Miss Briskow held her hand high, admiring the play of light upon thefacets of the splendid jewel, then she voiced a complacent thought thathas been variously expressed by other women better circumstanced thanshe--"If we can afford to buy 'em, I reckon we can afford to wear 'em."

  Not until Gray had suggested that her days of work in the fields wereprobably about ended did the girl's expression change. Then indeed herinterest was arrested. She regarded him with a sudden quickening ofimagination; she revolved the novel idea in her mind.

  "From what my driver has told me about the Briskow farm," he ran on,"you won't have to work at anything, unless you care to."

  Allie continued to weigh this new thought in her mind; that itintrigued her was plain, but she made no audible comment.