CHAPTER XXVIII
THE BULLY
With daylight we began to get a grip on ourselves a little. I feltstrongly that I should see to Yank, and so announced. Johnny at onceoffered to accompany me. While we were talking over the futureprospects, McNally came over to us, saying:
"The boys are pretty well agreed that we ought to divide up what gold isleft, and let each man take care of his own share. Are you agreeable?"
We instantly assented. The scales were brought out, and the divisionbegan. It consumed most of the morning, and was productive of muchsquabbling, in which, however, we took no part. Our share, includingYank's--with which we were intrusted--came to about thirty-one pounds: avalue of about seven thousand dollars. We were impatient to be off, andnow wanted nothing so much as to be done with the whole affair. Yank hadridden one of our horses; the other had been stolen in the Indian raid.We approached Don Gaspar, who had his own saddle horse and that ofVasquez, not to speak of the remaining pack-animals. To our surprise anddelight he offered to accompany us; and Bagsby, too, decided to leave.McNally, Buck Barry, and Missouri Jones, however, could not be persuadedout of their intention of remaining to dig fresh gold; nor, I am afraid,were we very cordial in our insistence. We considered them foolhardy;but in our then mood we did not greatly care.
By noon we had packed our goods, and by night we had broken the back ofour return journey.
We found a full-grown town where we had left a few tents and miners'cabins. Its main street ran either side the deep dust of the immigranttrail, and consisted of the usual shanties, canvas shacks, and logstructures, with rather more than the customary allowance of tin cans,old clothes, worn-out boots, and empty barrels kicking around. Thediggings were in the gulch below the road; but the streets of the town,and especially the shady sides of the buildings, were numerouslyfurnished with lounging men. Some of these were employees or owners ofthe gambling halls, saloons, and boarding-houses; but most were plain"loafers"--a class never wholly absent from any mining camp, men whowashed just enough gold to keep themselves fed and pickled in drink.Many of them were evil-looking customers, in fact about as tough a lotas a man would care to see, unshaven generally, but not always, dirty,truculent and rough, insolent in manner. In our passage of the mainstreet I saw just three decent looking people--one was evidently agambler, one a beefy, red-faced individual who had something to do withone of the hotels, and the third was a tall man, past middle age, with aclean shaven, hawk face, a piercing, haughty, black eye, and iron grayhair. He was carefully and flawlessly dressed in a gray furred "plug"hat, tailed blue coat with brass buttons, a buff waistcoat, trousers ofthe same shade, and a frilled shirt front. Immaculate down to within sixinches or so of the ground, his nether garments and boots were coatedthickly with the inevitable red dust. He strode slowly down the street,looking neither to right nor left.
Don Gaspar led the way for a short distance along the wagon road. On theoutskirts of the settlement he turned aside to a small log cabinsupplemented by a brush lean-to. A long string of bright red peppershung down the face of it. To our knock came a very fat, rather dirty,but exceedingly pleasant-faced woman with glossy black hair, partedsmoothly, and soft black eyes. She opened the door only the fraction ofan inch at first, but instantly recognized Don Gaspar, and threw itwide.
To our great relief we found Yank very much alive. He greeted us ratherfeebly, but with satisfaction. We found that he had been kindly caredfor, and that the surface wounds and bruises from the horses' hoofs hadbeen treated with some skill.
"But I reckon I'm hurt some inside," he whispered with difficulty, "forI can't breathe easy; and I can't eat nothin' but soup. And my leg ishell."
The broken leg too had been bound up after a fashion, but it was badlyswollen above and below the bandages.
"He ought to have a doctor," said I positively. "There's no doubt ofthat. There must be some among the miners--there generally is. I'm goingto see if I can find one."
I returned to town, and hunted up the beefy, red-faced hotel keeper, whohad impressed me as being an honest man.
"Yes, there's a doctor," said he, "a mighty good one. He went by here alittle while ago. Name's Dr. Rankin. I'll rustle him out for you. Oh,you Pete!" he shouted into the interior of the building.
A moment's shuffling about preceded the appearance of a negro boy oftwelve or fourteen.
"Yes, sah."
"Go find Dr. Rankin and bring him here right away. Tell him a gentlemanwants him."
"You've got a mighty sudden sort of camp here," said I, as we settledourselves to wait. "Three months ago I went through here, and there waspractically nothing."
"Looks to be a thousand years, though," agreed the hotel man. "Where youbeen?"
"Oh, just prospecting," I replied vaguely.
"Strike it?"
"Just fair," I evaded; "not rich enough to keep me from coming back, yousee. Any finds here?"
"The diggings are rich as mud," replied the hotel man dispassionately."It's a prosperous camp all right."
"You don't 'wash' yourself?" I asked.
"Not I! I make more than my 'ounce a day' right here." He jerked histhumb at his hotel.
"A good many 'loafers,'" I suggested.
He looked at me steadily, hesitated for a moment, then evidently changedhis mind.
"Quite a few," he agreed.
At this moment the negro boy appeared, closely followed by the man withthe blue coat and white beaver hat whom I had taken for an eccentricgambler. This man walked slowly up to face me.
"Well, sir?" he demanded. "I am told I can be of service. In what way?"
His piercing black eye held mine with a certain high arrogance.
"Professionally, doctor," I replied. "A friend of mine is lying badlyhurt in a nearby hut."
For a barely appreciable instant his eye held mine after I had ceasedspeaking, as though he was appraising me. Then he bowed withold-fashioned courtesy.
"At your service, sir," said he. "Pete, you black rascal, get my bag,and get it quick."
The little negro, who had stood by obviously worshipping, broke into agrin and darted into the hotel, almost instantly reappearing with aregulation professional satchel.
"At your service, sir," repeated Dr. Rankin.
We took our stately progress up the street, through the deep red dust.The hot sun glared down upon us, reflecting from the surface of theearth in suffocating heat. Hard as I was, I flushed and perspired. Thedoctor never turned a hair. As we passed one of the saloons a huge,hairy man lurched out, nearly colliding with us. He was not drunk, buthe was well flushed with drink. His mood was evidently ugly, for hedropped his hand to the butt of his revolver, and growled somethingtruculent at me, glaring through bloodshot eyes. Dr. Rankin, who hadstepped back to avoid collision, spoke up:
"Malone," said he, "I told you a week ago that you have to stop drinkingor come to me. I repeat it."
He turned his keen black eyes upon the big man, and stepped forward. Thebig man muttered something and moved aside.
Arrived at the hut of the Morenas, for that it seemed was the name ofour host and hostess, Dr. Rankin laid aside his furry beaver hat, walkeddirectly to the side of the bunk on which Yank lay, and began hisexamination, without vouchsafing anything or anybody else the slightestglance. Nor did he seem to pay more attention to Yank as a human being,but prodded and pulled and hauled and manipulated him from top to toe,his gray, hawk face intent and absorbed. Occasionally, as he repeatedsome prod, he looked up keenly into Yank's face, probably for someslight symptom of pain that escaped us, for Yank remained stoical. Buthe asked no questions. At the end of ten minutes he threw the blanketover our friend's form and stood erect, carefully dusting the ends ofhis fingers against one another.
"Broken leg, badly set," said he; "two broken ribs; severe surfacebruises; and possibility of internal bruises in the region of thespleen. Neglected too long. Why wasn't I sent for before?"
I explained. Dr. Rankin listened attentively, but made
no comment. Hiseyes travelled slowly over us all--the fat, pleasant, brown Californiawoman, her bearded husband, who had come in from the diggings, Bagsby'stall, wiry old form, the worn remains of Don Gaspar's finery, andlingered a moment on Johnny's undisguisable air of high spirit andbreeding.
"How many of you belong here?" he demanded. "I can't waste time on therest of you. Those who are not directly concerned, kindly step outside."
"Johnny and I will take care of this," I told the others hastily, beforethey had time to say anything.
"Now," cried Dr. Rankin, removing his blue coat, and turning back thefrills of his shirt, "hot water!"
We assisted at the rather dreadful process of resetting a broken legthree days old. At the end of the operation we were all pretty limp.
"How long?" gasped Yank, opening his eyes.
"Three months; not a day less if you want that leg to be as good asever," stated Dr. Rankin uncompromisingly.
Yank closed his eyes and groaned.
The doctor resumed his coat and picked up his beaver hat.
"What treatment?" I ventured to ask.
"I will inform the woman," replied the doctor. "These Californians arethe best nurses in the world, once things are on a proper footing."
"Your fee, sir?" asked Johnny very formally, for the doctor's brusquemanner had rubbed.
"One ounce," stated Dr. Rankin. "I shall direct the woman, and I shallreturn one week from to-day unless conditions change. In that case,summon me."
He pouched the gold dust that Johnny shook into the palm of his hand ata guess, bowed formally to each of us in turn, picked up his bag anddeparted, rigidly erect, the fine red dust crawling and eddying at hisfeet.
Then we held a council of war, all of us. Don Gaspar announced hisintention of returning to his rancho in the south.
"I have found the gold, and I have made fren's, and I have now enough,"said he.
Bagsby, too, said he thought he would just ride down as far as Sutter'sFort, there to lay in a supply of powder and ball for a trip in themountains.
"I kind of want to git up another b'ar fight," said he. "If I thoughtthere was a ghost of a show to git them robbers for you boys, I'd stayand help you scout for them; but there ain't a show in the world.They've had a good three days' start."
After shaking hands with us again and again, and obtaining promises thatwe should all surely meet in San Francisco or Monterey, they mounted andtook their departure in order to get well clear of the settlement beforenightfall.
When they had gone Yank opened his eyes from the apparent sleep intowhich he had fallen.
"You fellows don't hang around here with me, I can tell you that," hestated. "I'm fixed all right. I want you to make arrangements with thesepeople yere to keep me; tuck my gold under my piller, stack old Betseyup yere in the corner by me, and go about your business. You come outyere to dig gold, not to take keer of cripples."
"All right, Yank, we'll fix it somehow," I agreed. "Now if you're allright, Johnny and I will just go and straighten out our camp things alittle."
We were now, it will be remembered, without horses. Don Gaspar hadunpacked our few belongings before departing. Johnny and I found a goodcamping place, then carried the stuff over on our backs. We cookedourselves some food, lit pipes, and sat down to talk the situation over.
We got nowhere. As a matter of fact, we were both in the dead-water ofreaction from hard, long-continued labour, and we could not bringourselves to face with any enthusiasm the resuming of gold washing.Revulsion shook us at the mere thought of getting down in a hot, glaringravine and moving heavy earth and rocks. Yet we had not made a fortune,nor much of a beginning at one, and neither of us was what is known as aquitter. We realized perfectly that we would go on gold mining.
"What we need is a recess," Johnny ended, "and I move we take it. Justlet's camp here, and loaf for a few days or a week, and see how Yankgets along, and then we can go back to Porcupine."
As though this decision lifted a great weight, we sat back on ourshoulder blades with a sigh of relief, and blew tobacco smoke straightup in the air for at least fifteen minutes. By the end of that time we,being young and restless, felt thoroughly refreshed.
"Let's go look this outfit over," suggested Johnny.
We gravitated naturally to the diggings, which were very much like thoseat Hangman's Gulch, except that they were rather more extensive, andbranched out more into the tributary ravines. The men working therewere, many of them, of a much better type than those we had seen intown; though even here was a large element of rough-looking, wild,reckless customers. We wandered about here and there, our hands in ourpockets, a vast leisure filling our souls. With some of the morepleasant-appearing miners we conversed. They told us that the diggingswere rich, good "ounce a day" diggings. We saw a good many cradles inuse. It was easy to tell the old-timers from the riffraff of newcomers.A great many of the latter seemed to lack the steadiness of purposecharacteristic of nearly all the first rush. They worked haphazardly,spasmodically, pulling and hauling against each other. Some should nothave been working at all, for their eyes were sunken in their heads fromillness.
"We've got to hustle now," they told us. "We can take a good rest whenthe rains stop work."
We noticed especially a marked change in demeanour among some of thegroups. In the early part of the summer every man answered every mangood-naturedly, except he happened to have a next day's head or someother sort of a personal grouch. Now many compact little groups of menworked quite apart. When addressed they merely scowled or looked sullen,evidently quite unwilling to fraternize with the chance-comer.
We loafed about here and there through the diggings, swapping remarkswith the better disposed, until the men began to knock off work. Then wereturned through the village.
Its street had begun to fill. Here, too, we could not but be struck bythe subtle change that had come over the spirit of the people. All usedto seem like the members of a big family, good-natured and approachableeven when strangers. Now a slower acquaintance must precede familiarity.We seemed out of it because we did not know anybody, something we hadnot felt before in a mining camp. There was no hostility in this, not aniota; only now it had evidently become necessary to hold a man off alittle until one knew something about him. People seemed, somehow,_watchful_, in spite of the surface air of good-nature and ofboisterous spirits. We did not quite understand this at the moment, butwe learned more about it later.
We sauntered along peering into the various buildings. The saloons werehere more elaborate than at Hangman's, the gambling places larger, andwith some slight attempt at San Francisco splendour. That is to say,there were large gilt-framed mirrors on the walls, nude pictures, and insome cases a stage for musical performers. One of the three stores wasdevoted entirely to clothing and "notions," to us a new departure inspecialization. We were sadly in need of garments, so we entered, andwere at once met by a very oily, suave specimen of the chosen people.When we had escaped from this robber's den we looked at each other inhumorous dismay.
"Glad Yank don't need clothes, anyway," said Johnny.
We were, it will be remembered, out of provisions, so we entered alsoone of the general stores to lay in a small supply. The proprietorproved to be an old friend, Jones, the storekeeper at Hangman's.
"Which," said Johnny shrewdly, "is a sad commentary on the decline ofthe diggings at Hangman's."
Jones was evidently prosperous, and doing business on a much largerscale than at the old place; for in his commodious building werequantities of goods displayed and many barrels and boxes still unopened.He did not recognize us, of course; and we had to await the completionof a tale he was telling a group perched on the counters and on theboxes.
"Got a consignment of mixed goods from Mellin," he was saying, "and oneof the barrels wasn't marked with anything I could make out. I knockedthe top in, and chucked her out behind for spoiled beef. Certainly stunklike it. Well, sir, that barrel lay there for a good ten days; and thenone day up dri
fted a Dutchman with a brogue on him thick enough to plantflag-poles in. 'How mooch,' says he 'is dot stoof?' 'What stuff?' saysI. 'Dot stoof oudt behind.' 'I ain't got no stuff out behind! What'seating you?' says I. Then he points out that spoiled beef. 'Good Lord!'says I, 'help yourself. I got a lot of nerve, but not enough to charge aman for anything that stinks like that beef. But you better let italone; you'll get sick!' Well, sir, you wouldn't think there was anyDutchmen in the country, now would you? but they came to that stink likeflies to molasses. Any time I'd look out the back door I'd see one ortwo nosing around that old spoiled beef. Then one day another oldbeer-belly sagged in. 'Say, you got any more barrels of dot sauerkraut?'he wants to know. 'That what?' I asks. 'Dot sauerkraut,' says he, 'likedot in the backyard. I gif you goot price for a whole barrel,' says he.And here I'd give away a whole barrel! I might've got a dollar a poundfor the stuff. _I_ don't know what it might be worth to aDutchman."
He turned away to wait on us.
"And you wouldn't guess there was so many Dutchmen in the country!" herepeated.
We paid his terrible prices for our few necessities, and went out. Themusic was beginning to tune up from the gambling places and saloons. Itreminded us of our Italian friend.
"Seems to me his place was right here where we are," puzzled Johnny."Hanged if I don't believe this is the place; only they've stuck averanda roof on it."
We turned into the entrance of the hotel, to find ourselves in thewell-remembered long, low room wherein we had spent the evening a fewmonths before. It was now furnished with a bar, the flimsy partitionshad been knocked out, and evidently additions had been constructedbeyond the various closed doors. The most conspicuous single thing was ahuge bulletin board occupying one whole end. It was written over closelywith hundreds and hundreds of names. Several men were laboriouslyspelling them out. This, we were given to understand, was a sort ofregister of the overland immigrants; and by its means many partiesobtained first news of scattered members.
The man behind the bar looked vaguely familiar to me, but I could notplace him.
"Where's the proprietor of this place?" I asked him.
He indicated a short, blowsy, truculent-looking individual who was, atthe moment, staring out the window.
"There used to be an Italian----" I began.
The barkeeper uttered a short barking laugh as he turned to attend to acustomer.
"He found the climate bad for his heart--and sold out!" said he.
On the wall opposite was posted a number of printed and writtenhandbills. We stopped idly to examine them. They had in general to dowith lost property, stolen horses, and rewards for the apprehension ofvarious individuals. One struck us in particular. It was issued by acitizens' committee of San Francisco, and announced a general reward forthe capture of any member of the "Hounds."
"Looks as if they'd got tired of that gang down there," Johnny observed."They were ruling the roost when we left. Do you know, I saw one ofthose fellows this afternoon--perhaps you remember him--a man with aqueer sort of blue scar over one cheekbone. I swear I saw him in SanFrancisco. There's our chance to make some money, Jim."
The proprietor of the hotel turned to look at Johnny curiously, andseveral of the loafers drinking at the bar glanced in the direction ofhis clear young voice. We went on reading and enjoying the notices, someof which were very quaint. Suddenly the door burst open to admit a bigman followed closely by a motley rabble. The leader was a red-faced,burly, whiskered individual, with a red beard and matted hair. As heturned I saw a star-shaped blue scar above his cheekbone.
"Where's the ---- ---- ---- that is going to make some money out ofarresting me?" he roared, swinging his huge form ostentatiously towardthe centre of the room.
I confessed I was aghast, and completely at a loss. A row was evidentlyunavoidable, and the odds were against us. Almost at the instant thedoor came open, Johnny, without waiting for hostile demonstration,jerked his Colt's revolvers from their holsters. With one bound hereached the centre of the room, and thrust the muzzles beneath thebully's nose. His black eyes were snapping.
"Shut up, you hound!" he said in a low, even voice. "I wouldn'tcondescend to make money out of your miserable carcass, except at a gluefactory. And if you or your friends so much as wink an eyelid, I'll putyou in shape for it."
Caught absolutely by surprise, the "Hound" stared fascinated into thepistol barrels, his jaw dropped, his face redder than ever, his eyesridiculously protruding. I had recovered my wits and had backed againstthe bulletin board, a revolver in either hand, keeping an eye on thegeneral company. Those who had burst in with the bully had stoppedfrozen in their tracks. The others were interested, but not particularlyexcited.
"I'm going to stay in this camp," Johnny advised crisply, "and I'm notgoing to be bothered by big bluffs like you. I warn you, and all likeyou, to let me alone and keep away from me. You stay in camp, or you canleave camp, just as you please, but I warn you that I shoot you nexttime I lay eyes on you. Now, about face! March!"
Johnny's voice had an edge of steel. The big man obeyed ordersimplicitly. He turned slowly, and sneaked out the door. His followersshambled toward the bar. Johnny passed them rather contemptuously underthe review of his snapping eyes, and they shambled a trifle faster.Then, with elaborate nonchalance, we sauntered out.
"My Lord, Johnny!" I cried when we had reached the street, "that wasfine! I didn't know you had it in you!"
"Damn the luck!" he cried, kicking a tin can. "Oh, _damn_!"
He muttered to himself a moment, then turned to me with humorousdespair.
"What a stupid, useless mess!" he cried. "The minute that fellow cameinto the room I saw we were let in for a row; so I went at it quickbefore he had got organized. He didn't expect that. He thought he'd haveto work us into it."
"It certainly got him," said I.
"But it just starts us all wrong here," complained Johnny. "We aremarked men."
"We'll just have to look out for him a little. I don't believe he'sreally dangerous. He looks to me a lot like a bluffer."
"Oh, him!" said Johnny contemputously, "he doesn't worry me any. It'sall the rest of them. I've practically challenged all the hard cases incamp, don't you see? I'm no longer an inconspicuous newcomer. Everytough character with any real nerve will want to tackle me now, just totry me out."
From the impulsive and unanalytical Johnny this was surprising enough,and my face must have showed it.
"I've seen it worked out in my part of the country," he explainedsombrely. "I don't want to bother with that sort of thing. I'm apeaceable citizen. Now I've got to walk around on tiptoe all the timewatching for trouble. Oh, _damn_!"
"If you're afraid----" I began.
"I'm not afraid," said Johnny so simply that I believed him at once."But I'm annoyed. And of course you recognized that barkeeper."
"I thought I'd seen him before, but I don't remember just where."
"He's one of those fellows we fired out of our canoe down at Chagres.You can bet he doesn't love us any!"
"You move along to Porcupine to-morrow," I suggested. "I can look afterYank all right. They won't bother me."
Johnny walked for some steps in silence.
"No, they won't bother you," he repeated slowly.
He thought for a moment, then he threw back his head. "But look here,Jim," he said briskly, "you forget. I told that fellow and his friendsthat I was going to live in this place. I can't leave now."
"Nonsense," said I. "What do you care for that gang?"
"It would look like running away. No, I certainly don't intend to leavenow."