CHAPTER VIII--CHET SHOOTS A HAWK
Mr. Fordham had run forward to meet his partner and shake him by thehand.
"I'm mighty glad to see you, Jim!" he said, assisting Chet's father tothe ground. "The boys say you've hurt your foot. Is it bad?"
"Bad enough," answered Mr. Havens, with much disgust, and standing likea stork on one leg until they brought him a stool to sit upon. "It'sgoing to keep me from going over to Grub Stake, Fordham, as I hadplanned."
"Well, well! I'm glad you're out of that hole. That's enough to bejoyful over. We'll worry about the other thing later. What about thatscamp yonder?" and Mr. Fordham swung about to point at the ugly,gorilla-like man who stood at one side, sucking on the stem of an oldpipe.
"Tony Traddles? Let him go--and let him go quick, Fordham," replied Mr.Havens earnestly, with a glance around at the rough men.
"I was tempted to have him jailed. A constable was up here," said Mr.Fordham.
"No use. We couldn't prove anything more than malicious mischief--andwe'd have hard work to do that, I think. But it's only by the mercy ofHeaven that he hasn't the lives of six men upon his conscience."
"Ha!" snapped Dig's father. "That fellow has no conscience." Then heraised his voice: "Come here, you Tony!"
The ugly-looking man shuffled over to his employers. He looked sheepishas well as ugly, and still pulled furiously at his old pipe.
"Well, Tony, you played us a bad trick that time," said Mr. Havensquietly. "You knew when I asked you if the timbering was secure that youhad not wedged your cross-beams. Your neglect came near costing sixlives. We cannot have you work on the Silent Sue any longer. Mr. Fordhamwill give you your time and money, and you can go."
"I dunno what I done," growled Tony, in a much injured tone. "I couldn'thelp the shaft caving in."
"You know it wouldn't have caved if you had done your work properly,"said Mr. Fordham sharply.
"I could have forgiven you for that," Mr. Havens hastened to say. "Butyour falsehood led us to suppose that it was safe to fire the shot. Thatis your crime, Tony--the misstatement of fact."
"Aw, yer both down on me," growled Tony Traddles. "I might as well takemy time and beat it."
"You might just as well, I think," said Dig's father grimly. "Here'syour money. Count it. Sign here in the book. Now be off--for your owngood; for let me tell you the men who worked with you don't feel verykindly toward you."
"Aw, let 'em blow! I ain't afraid of 'em," growled Tony Traddles.
The boys had been watching Tony and the mine owners, but from such adistance that they could not hear the conversation. They heard the mentalking, however--the men who had been thrown out of work for severaldays because of Tony's carelessness.
Chet, after listening to several threats, looked about for Dig. Thelatter had gone to Rafe Peters' shack for a sandwich. Young Fordham hadalready expressed himself as being "half starved." He was not used togoing without his dinner.
"Hi, Dig!" shouted Chet, beckoning to his chum.
"Now, don't ask for the core," mumbled Dig, with his mouth full. "Thereain't going to be no core. Ask Rafe for a hand-out yourself."
"Don't think everybody is as greedy as you are," said Chet. "Come onhere. I believe there is going to be trouble."
He said the last in a low voice after his chum had reached his side.
"What d'you mean--trouble?" queried Dig.
"The men are dreadfully sore on Tony Traddles."
"And why shouldn't they be?" demanded Digby. "He'd ought to be tarredand feathered."
"Sh! Some of them might hear you."
"And I should worry about that!" cried Dig slangily.
"There's something going to happen to Tony, I do believe," whisperedChet. "You see, your father's paid him. Now he's going up the hill. Anda bunch of the men hurried over behind that hill a few minutes ago."
"Whew!" exclaimed Dig. "Maybe--maybe they're going to lynch him!"
"Don't talk so foolishly!" cried Chet. "These miners aren't murderers, Ishould hope! Why--there's Bob Fane, and Jeffers, and Ike Pilsbury. Why,we know most all of them! They're decent men and wouldn't kill evenTony."
Dig chuckled. "Guess you think he deserves it, whatever they do to him?"he suggested.
"Come on! Father and your father are busy. I want to see if they do getTony Traddles," Chet said eagerly, and set off for the grove of treesdirectly above the mouth of the mine that had been caved in because ofTony Traddles' negligence.
The men had melted away from about the shaft. Even Rafe Peters, theforeman, had disappeared. Mr. Havens and Mr. Fordham were busy at thecorrugated iron shack that served as an office. The women and childrenhad taken their recovered husbands and fathers home; it was only theyounger and more irresponsible element of the Silent Sue workmen thathad gone over the hill.
And in their tracks sped the two chums. Chet and Dig were both eager andcurious. They saw the bewhiskered and long-armed Tony Traddlesstaggering along the rough trail over the hill, occasionally turning toshake his hairy fist in the direction of the mine. He was probablymuttering threats, too, against the mine and its owners.
The boys had taken a shorter path over the rise; besides, they wererunning. But the miners who had been associated with Tony had got overthe hill first. They were hidden in the chaparral on the edge of thetrail Tony was following, and when he came down the slope they sprangout and surrounded him.
Chet and Digby could not hear what was said at first; but Tony began toshow fight almost at once. He was no coward.
The miners rushed in on him, tied his wrists together, and amid a greatdeal of noise and some laughter, hoisted him upon a fence-rail whichfour of them carried on their shoulders. His ankles were then tricedtogether. His helplessness made him ridiculous.
"Oh, bully!" cried Dig, in delight. "That serves him right!"
"I wish they hadn't done it," said Chet. "They're going to ride him overthe mountain."
"Sure they are! And they are going to warn him not to come back," saidDig. "Serves him just right, I tell you."
"But suppose he does something to get square?" breathed Chet, muchexcited as well as anxious.
"Pooh! what could he do?" returned Dig. "He may as well go out and huntfor that big buffalo he was telling us about. I don't believe TonyTraddles would know a buffalo if he met one in his soup."
"What a ridiculous thing, Dig," said Chet. "And you needn't scorn thefact of the existence of the buffaloes. Rafe told us about them, too.And maybe we'll get a shot at them."
"How?" demanded Digby, fired by the thought.
But at that instant something happened to the miner who was being riddenon a rail, which attracted their attention again.
"Hi! see that somersault!" cried Dig.
"Oh, dear me!" Chet exclaimed. "That was enough to break his neck."
"And serve him just right!" quoth the savage Dig.
Tony Traddles, in struggling to free himself, and while raised on theshoulders of the men, had turned completely over and now hung head-down,his long hair brushing the uneven ground over which he was beingcarried.
The rough men laughed and cheered; nor did they offer at first to helpthe discharged miner. Tony struggled and fought and finally was helpedto a sitting posture again.
The boys were too far away to hear all the prisoner said--and that wasfortunate. But now they ran forward and, above the cheers and laughterof the gang, heard Tony Traddles mouth out his threats:
"I'll git square with you all! I'll make ye all eat dirt fur this day'swork! Mark me, I'll do fur ye all yet!"
The men hooted and laughed at him, and Tony's rage grew.
"I'll make ye all sing another tune. An' I'll git square with oldHavens. Mark what I say now! I'll git square."
The rough men went on with their prisoner, tossing the rail up and downand making his seat as uncomfortable as possible. Chet stopped in thetrail and halted Digby by clinging to his coat-sleeve.
"Let's go back," he said. "I wish the m
en hadn't angered Tony so.Perhaps he _will_ do my father some harm."
"A fat chance he'd have of doing that!" exclaimed the other boy. "He'llnever dare come back here again. You tell your father. He'll be on thelookout for Tony."
"No, no! He's got enough to worry him. I wouldn't say anything now thatwould disturb his mind. And say, Dig, that reminds me! Let's try and get'em to let us go to Grub Stake."
"Huh? To Grub Stake?" cried Digby, in surprise. "What for? Though I'd goquick enough if it were only to buy a lemon."
"There's a bigger reason than that," laughed Chet Havens. "Didn't youhear my father say something about getting some papers signed by a mannamed Morrisy who lives at Grub Stake?"
"Yes, I remember."
"Well, it's important. Father can't go because his foot's hurt. Let'stease to go. And on the trail we might run across that big buffalo."
"By the last hoptoad that was chased out of Ireland!" ejaculated theexcited Dig, falling back upon his favourite exclamation, "that would begreat. But you do the askin', Chet. My father will think I've gotsomething up my sleeve if I undertake even to hint at such a trip."
Chet agreed to this; but it was not a propitious moment to broach thesubject when the chums returned to the shaft of the Silent Sue. Mr.Havens had just been helped upon Chet's horse again, and was going home.He expected to remain at home for some weeks, and the business of theSilent Sue was to be under Mr. Fordham's sole direction.
The partners in the mine knew nothing about the trouble Tony Traddleshad gotten into with the rougher element of the miners. Nor did the boyssay anything about what they had seen.
The next morning Digby was over bright and early at the Havens house tosee if Chet had spoken to his father regarding the Grub Stake trip. Hefound his chum in the lot beside the corral, where his mother had aflock of hens, with his small, twenty-two calibre rifle. It was thelittle weapon Chet had learned to shoot with.
"What are you doin' with that little play gun?" chuckled Digby."Shootin' horseflies?"
"Just you keep still a minute," whispered Chet, who was crouching behinda shed wall. "Stoop down here. Keep still. I'm watching a hawk."
"You can't shoot even a chicken hawk with that thing!" exclaimed Dig,scorning a weapon of small calibre.
"You wait and see," commanded Chet. "There he comes now!"
Far off against the sky appeared a dark spot, circling ever lower andlower. The great hawk swept down in narrowing circles, its objectivepoint plainly being Mrs. Havens' hen-run.
"Why don't you get a gun?" growled Dig, for although he well knew Chet'sskill with firearms, he thought the tiny rifle a foolish thing.
Just then a voice behind the boys put in a word:
"I reckon your friend is going to wait for the hawk to drop on thechicken before he shoots. 'Twon't carry more'n ten feet, will it?"
Chet turned rather angrily. He did not mind his chum's joking; but thisstranger's scornful remark angered him.
And he was a stranger. Chet thought he had never seen the man before.The fellow wore a big black sombrero, but was not in working clothes.His boots were polished, he wore a ruffled shirt and silk tie and cuffs.
His countenance was not pleasant, for his eyes were too sharp and toonear together. He had his brown moustache curled and there was an odourof strong perfume about him, as though he had just been to the barber's.
"You wait a couple of minutes," Chet Havens said sharply, "and you'llsee how far this gun carries. Providing that hawk isn't frightenedaway," he added, glancing upward.
The stranger leaning on the fence immediately became very still. Digbegan to grow nervous--for his friend's sake.
"Say! let me run in and get you a proper gun, Chet," he whispered. "Iknow you can kill that hawk up there; but not with that dinky littlething."
"The first hawk I ever killed I brought down with this rifle," mutteredChet. "And I bet I haven't forgotten the trick-- That way!"
As the hawk suddenly swooped, Chet stepped clear of the shed. He didn'teven bring the butt of the rifle to his shoulder, but fired from thehip.
There was a shriek from the bird, and with several feathers flying, thehawk sank fluttering to the ground. Digby Fordham uttered a cry ofadmiration.
"I declare!" exclaimed the stranger, as the boys ran across the lot tosecure the still fluttering bird. "I never saw a prettier shot--and himonly a kid!"
He was gone when Chet and Dig returned with the dead hawk between them,each carrying the bird by an outstretched pinion.
"You gave me the laugh, Chet!" declared Dig, with enthusiasm. "I didn'tthink you could do it. Hello! where's that fellow gone?"
The stranger had disappeared. Just then, however, Mr. Fordham rode downfrom the mine and the boys hurried out to show Chet's prize and hearwhat news he had brought to Mr. Havens, who sat upon the front porch ofthe house with his wounded foot on a stool.
"Everything all right at the Silent Sue, Fordham?" Mr. Havens wasasking. "I'm glad to know you're on the job. But I'm worrying about thatother matter."
"About those deeds to the Crayton claim?" queried Mr. Fordham.
"Yes," said his partner. "The doctor says I shall be laid up here forthree weeks. A lot may happen before I can get hold of John Morrisy. Ifwe had somebody to send--"
Dig had been prodding Chet eagerly, and whispering in his ear. The otherboy dropped the hawk and drew nearer.
"Can't Digby and I go to Grub Stake for you, Father?" he asked, timidly."It's vacation, we've got good horses and know how to shoot if we needto, and I've heard you say yourself the trail is plain. Can't we go?"
Mr. Havens and Mr. Fordham looked at each other. To tell the truth, thegentlemen had discussed this very thing, only the boys did not know it.
"Your boy is all right," drawled Mr. Fordham, "but mine is such ascatter-brained youngster--"
"Oh, Dad! I promise not to scatter my brains--nor let them bescattered--if you say I can go with Chet to Grub Stake," cried Dig,utterly unable to keep silent another minute, so great was hiseagerness.