CHAPTER XIX
JAMES CARBHOY ARRIVES
Snake's Fall was in that sensitive state when the least jar or news ofa startling nature was calculated to upset it, and start its tide ofhuman emotions bubbling and surging like a shallow stream whose coursehas been obstructed by the sudden fall of a bowlder into its bed.
Early the following morning just such a metaphorical bowlder fell rightinto the middle of the Snake's Fall stream. The news flew through thelittle town, now so crowded with its overflowing population ofspeculators, with that celerity which vital news ever attains in small,and even large places. It was on everybody's lips before the breakfasttables were cleared. And, in a matter of seconds, from the moment ofits penetration to the individual, minds were searching not only themeaning, but the effect it would have upon the general situation, andtheir own personal affairs in particular.
David Slosson, the agent of the Union Grayling and Ukataw Railroad, haddefected in the night! He had gone--bolted--leaving his bill unpaid atMcSwain's hotel!
For a while a sort of paralysis seized upon the population. It wasstaggered. No trains had passed through in the night. Not even alocal freight train. How had he gone? But most of all--why?
The next bit of news that came through was that Peter's best team hadbeen stolen from the barn, also an empty hay-rack. This wasmystifying, until it became known that Peter's buggy was laid up atMike Callahan's barn, undergoing repairs. The hayrack was the onlyvehicle available. But what about saddle horses for a rapid bolt?Curiously enough it was discovered that Peter's saddle horses were outgrazing. Besides, the story added that the man had taken his baggagewith him. Not a thing had been left behind, and baggage like his couldnot have been carried on a saddle horse.
The story grew as it traveled. It was the snowball over again. It wassaid that Peter had been robbed of a large amount of money which hekept in his safe. Also his cash register had been emptied. An addeditem was that Peter himself had been knifed, and had been found in adying condition. In fact every conceivable variation of the facts wereflung abroad for the benefit of credulous ears. Consequently the tideof curious, and startled, and interested news-seekers set in thedirection of Peter's hotel at an early hour.
Then it was that something of the real facts were discovered. And, inconsequence, those who had participated in Slosson's land deals, andhad received deposit money, congratulated themselves. While those whohad not so profited felt like "kicking" themselves for their want ofenterprise.
Peter stormed through his house the whole morning. He was like a veryhot and angry lion in a cage far too small for it. His story, as hetold it in the office, was superlative in furious adjectives.
"I tell you fellows," he cried, at a group of wondering-eyed boardersin his establishment, "I ha'f suspected he was a blamed crook from thefirst moment I got my eyeballs onto him. The feller that 'll bilk hisboard bill is come mighty low, sirs. So mighty low you wouldn't find awell deep enough for him. He had the best rooms in the house at fouran' a ha'f dollars a day all in, an' I ain't see a fi' cent piece ofhis money, cep' you ken count the land deposit he paid me. I just beenright through his rooms, an' he ain't left a thing, not a valise, nor agrip. Not even a soot of pyjamas, or a soap tablet. He's sure clearedright out fer good, and we ain't goin' to see him round again," hefinished up gloomily.
Then his fire broke out again.
"But that ain't what I'm grievin' most, I guess. Ther's allus skunksaround till a place gets civilized up, an' their bokay ain't pleasant.But he's a hoss thief, too. There's my team. You know that team ofmine, Mr. Davison," he went on, turning to the drug storekeeper who haddropped in to hear his friend's news. "You've drove behind 'em many atime. They got a three-minute gait between 'em which 'ud show dust toany team around these parts. That team was worth two thousand dollars,sirs, and was matched to an inch, and a shade of color. Say, if I getacross his tracks, an' Sheriff Richardson is out after him with aposse, I'm goin' to get a shot in before the United States Authoritieswaste public money feeding him in penitentiary. I'm feelin' that mad Ican't eat, an' I don't guess I'd know how to hand a decent answer to aMethodist minister if he came along. If I don't get news of that teamI'm just going to start and break something. I don't figure if he'dburned this shack right over my head I'd have felt as mad as I dolosin' that dandy team."
When questioned as to how the man had got away his answer came sharply.
"How? Why, what was there to stop him, sir? I tell you right here weain't been accustomed to deal with his kind in Snake's. The folkaround this layout, till this coal boom started, has all been decentcitizens." He glared with hot eyes upon the men about him, who werenearly all speculators attracted by that very coal boom. "There's thatdarned fire-escape out back, right down from his room, an' what man hasever locked his barn in these parts? Psha!" he cried, in violentdisgust. "I've had that team three years, and I've never so much ashad a lock put to the barn."
So it went on all the morning. Peter's fury was one of the sights ofthe township for that day. He was never without an audience whichflowed and ebbed like a tide, stimulated by curiosity, self-interest,and the natural satisfaction of witnessing another's troubles which isso much an instinct of human nature.
And beneath every other emotion which the agent's sudden defectionaroused was a wave of almost pitiful meanness. The dreams of the lastweek and more had received a set back. In many minds the boom city wastottering. The crowding hopes of avarice and self-interest hadsuddenly received a douche of cold water. What, these speculatorsasked themselves, and each other, did the incident portend, what hadthe future in store?
So keen was the interest worked up about Peter McSwain's house thatevery other consideration for the time being was forgotten. Partyafter party visited Slosson's late quarters with a feeling ofconviction that some trifling clew had been overlooked, and, by somehappy chance, the luck and glory of having discovered it might fall totheir lot. But it was all of no avail. The room was absolutely emptyof all trace of its recent occupant, as only an hotel room can become.
With the excitement the daily west-bound passenger train was forgotten,and by the time it was signaled in, the little depot was almostdeserted. There were one or two rigs backed up to it on the town side,and perhaps a dozen townspeople were present. But the usual gatheringwas nowhere about.
Amongst the few present were Hazel Mallinsbee and Gordon. They haddriven up in a democrat wagon with a particularly fine team, and havingbacked the vehicle up to the boarded platform, they stood talkingearnestly and quite unnoticed. Hazel was dressed in an ordinary suitthat possessed nothing startling in its atmosphere of smartness. Herskirt was of some rather hard material, evidently for hard wear, andthe upper part of her costume was a white lawn shirtwaist under a shortjacket which matched her skirt. Her head was adorned by her customaryprairie hat, which, in Gordon's eyes, became her so admirably.
Gordon was holding up a picture for the girl's closest inspection.
"Say, it's sheer bull-headed luck I got this with me," he was saying."I found it amongst my old papers and things when I left New York, andI sort of brought it along as a 'mascot.' The old dad's older thanthat now, but you can't mistake him. It's a bully likeness. Get itinto your mind anyway, and then keep it with you."
Hazel gazed admiringly at the portrait of the man who claimed Gordon ashis son. For the moment she forgot the purpose in hand.
"Isn't he just splendid?" she exclaimed. "You're--you're the image ofhim. Why, say, it seems the unkindest thing ever to--to play him up."
Gordon laughed.
"Don't worry that way. We're going to give him the time of his life."Then he glanced swiftly about him, and noted the emptiness of thedepot. "I guess Peter's keeping the folks busy. He's a bright feller.I surely guess he's working overtime. Now you get things fixed right,Hazel. The train's coming along."
The girl nodded.
"You can trust me."
"Right." Gordon sighed. "I'll make tracks then. But I'll be aroundhandy to see you don't make a mistake."
He left the depot and disappeared. Hazel stood studying the picture inher hand, and alternating her attention with the incoming train. Shewas in a happy mood. The excitement of her share in Gordon's plot wasthrilling through her veins, and the thought that she was going to meethis father, the great multi-millionaire, left her almost beside herselfwith delighted interest.
She wondered how much she would find him like Gordon. No, she thoughtsoftly, he could never be really like Gordon. That was impossible. Amulti-millionaire could never have his son's frank enthusiasm for lifein all its turns and twistings of moral impulse. Gordon faced lifewith a defiant "don't care." That glorious spirit of youth and moralhealth. His father, for all his physical resemblance, would be a hard,stern, keen-eyed man, with all experience behind him. Then sheremembered Gordon's injunctions.
"Be just yourself," he had said. Then he had added, with a laugh, "Ifyou do that you'll have the dear old boy at your feet long before theday's had time to get cool."
It was rather nice Gordon talking that way, and the smile whichaccompanied her recollection was frankly delighted. Anyway she wouldsoon know all about it, for the train was already rumbling its way in.
James Carbhoy had done all that had been required of him by his agent'smessage. He had not welcomed the abandonment of his private car infavor of the ordinary parlor car and sleeper. Then, too, the purchaseof a ticket for his journey had seemed strange. But somehow, after thefirst break from his usual method of travel, he had found enjoyment inthe situation. His fellow passengers, with whom he had got intoconversation on the journey, had passed many pleasant hours, and itbecame quite absorbing to look on at the affairs of the world througheyes that, for the time being, were no longer those of one of thecountry's multi-millionaires.
However, the journey was a long one, and he was pleased enough when hereached his destination all unheralded and unrecognized. It amused himto find how many travelers in the country knew nothing about JamesCarbhoy and his vast financial exploits.
As the train slowed down he gathered up his simple belongings, whichconsisted of a crocodile leather suitcase, a stout valise of the samematerial; and a light dust coat, which he slung over his arm. Armedwith these, he fell in with the queue making its way towards the exitof the car. He frankly and simply enjoyed the situation. He toldhimself he was merely one of the rest of the get-rich-quick brigade whowere flocking to the Eldorado at Snake's Fall.
He was the last to alight, and he scanned the depot platform for thefamiliar figure of his confidential agent. As he did so the locomotivebell began to toll out its announcement of progress. The train slowlyslid out of the station behind him.
David Slosson was nowhere to be seen, and he had just made up his mindto search out a hotel for himself when he became aware of the tailoredfigure of a young girl standing before him, and of the pleasant tonesof her voice addressing him.
"Your agent, David Slosson, Mr. Carbhoy, has been detained out beyondthe coalfields on your most urgent business," she said. "So I was sentin with the rig to drive you out to your quarters."
The millionaire was startled. Then, as his steady eyes searched thedelightful face smiling up at him, his start proved a pleasant one.There was something so very charming in the girl's tone and manner.Then her extremely pretty eyes, and--Gordon's father mechanically baredhis head, and Hazel could have laughed with joy as she beheld thisstrong, handsome edition of the Gordon she knew.
"Well, come, that was thoughtful of Slosson," he said kindly. "Hecertainly has shown remarkable judgment in substituting your companyfor his own. My dear young lady, Slosson as a man of affairs ispossible, but as a companion on a journey, however short--well, I----And you are really going to drive me to my hotel. That's surely kindof you."
Hazel flushed. She felt the meanest thing in the world under the greatman's kindly regard. However, she reminded herself of the great andultimate object of the part she was playing and steeled her heart.
"The team's right here, sir." She felt justified in adding the "sir."She felt that she must risk nothing in her manner. "I'll just takeyour baggage along."
She was about to relieve the millionaire of his grips, but he drew back.
"Say, I just couldn't dream of it. You carry my grips? No, no, goright ahead, and I'll bring them along."
In a perfect maze of excitement and confusion the girl hastily crossedover to her team. Somehow she could no longer face the man's steadyeyes without betraying herself like some weak, silly schoolgirl. Thiswas Gordon's father, she kept telling herself, and--and she was thereto cheat him. It--it just seemed dreadful.
However, no time was wasted. She sprang into the driving-seat of thedemocrat spring rig, and took up the reins. The millionaire depositedhis grips in the body of the vehicle, and himself mounted to the seatbeside her. In a moment the wagon was on the move.
As they moved away, out of the corners of her eyes Hazel saw thegrinning face of Gordon peering out at them from the window of SteveMason's telegraph office, smiling approval and encouragement.Curiously enough, the sight made her feel almost angry.
They moved down Main Street at a rattling pace, and, in a few moments,turned off it into one of those streets which only the erection ofdwelling-houses marked. There were no made roads of any sort. Justbeaten, heavy, sandy tracks on the virgin ground.
Hazel remained silent for some time. She was almost afraid to speak.Yet she wanted to. She wanted to talk to Gordon's father. She wantedto tell him of the mean trick she was playing upon him, for, under theinfluence of his steady eyes and the knowledge that he was Gordon'sfather, a great surge of shame was stirring in her heart which made herhate herself.
For some time the man gazed about him interestedly. Then, as they lostthemselves among the wooden frame dwelling-houses, he breathed a deepsigh of content and drew out one of those extravagant cigars whichGordon had not tasted for so many weeks.
"Say, will smoke worry you any, young lady?" he inquired kindly.
Hazel was thankful for the opportunity of a cordial reply.
"Why, no," she cried. Then on the impulse she went on, "I just lovethe smell of smoke where men are." She laughed merrily. "I guess menwithout smoke makes you feel they're sick in body or conscience."
Gordon's father laughed in his quiet fashion as he lit his cigar.
"That way I guess folks of the Anti-Tobacco League need to start rightin and build hospitals for themselves."
The girl nodded.
"Anti-Tobacco?" she said. "Why, 'anti' anything wholesomely human mustbe a terrible sick crowd. I'd hate to trust them with my pocket-book,and, goodness knows, there's only about ten cents in it. Even thatwould be a temptation to such folks."
Again came the millionaire's quiet laugh.
"That's the result of the healthy life you folks live right out here inthe open sunshine," he said, noting the pretty tanning of the girl'sface. "I don't guess it's any real sign of health, mentally orphysically, when folks have to start 'anti' societies, eh?"
"No, sir," replied the girl. "Did you ever know anybody that wasreally healthy who started in to worry how they were living? It's justwhat I used to notice way back at college in Boston. The girls thatcame from cities were just full of cranks and notions. This wasn'tright for them to eat, that wasn't right for them to do. And it seemedto me all their folks belonged to some 'anti' society of some sort. Ifthe 'anti' wasn't for themselves it was for some other folks whoweren't worried with the things they did or the way they lived. Itjust seems to me cities are full of cranks who can run everything forother folks and need other folks to run everything for them. It's justa sort of human drug store in which every med'cine has to be able tocure the effects of some other. Out here it's different. We got greengrass and sunshine, the same as God started us with, and so we haven'tgot any use for the 'anti' folks."
"No." Ja
mes Carbhoy had forgotten the journey and its object. He wasonly aware of this fresh, bright young creature beside him. He stirredin his seat and glanced about him from a sheer sense of a new interest,and in looking about he became aware of a horseman riding on the sametrail some distance behind them.
"You said Boston just now," he said curiously. "You were educated inBoston?"
Hazel nodded.
"Yes, my poppa sent me to Boston. He just didn't reckon anything butBoston was good enough. But I was glad to be back here again."
The millionaire would have liked to question her more closely as to howshe came to be driving a team at Slosson's command. He had no greatregard for his agent outside of business, But somehow he felt it wouldbe an impertinence, and so refrained. Instead, he changed the subject.
"How far out are the coalfields?" he inquired.
"About five miles." The memory of her purpose swept over the girlagain, and her reply came shortly, and she glanced back quickly overher shoulder.
As she did so she became sickeningly aware that two horsemen were onthe trail some distance behind them. How she wished she had neverundertaken this work!
"I suppose there's quite a town there now?" was the millionaire's nextinquiry.
"Not a great deal, but there's comfortable quarters the other side ofit. It's going to be a wonderful, wonderful place, sir, when therailroad starts booming it."
Hazel felt she must get away from anything approaching across-examination.
"I don't just get that," said Carbhoy evasively.
"Well, it's just a question of depot. You see, there's coal right hereenough to heat the whole world. That's what folks say. And when therailroad fixes things so transport's right, why, everybody 'll justjump around and build up big commercial corporations, and--there'll bedollars for everybody."
"I see--yes."
"Mr. Slosson is working that way now," the girl went on. Then sheadded, with a shadowy smile, "That's why he couldn't get in to meetyou, I guess."
"He must be very busy," said the millionaire dryly. "However, I'mglad." And Hazel turned in time to discover his kindly smile.
Carbhoy gazed about him at the open plains with which they weresurrounded. The air, though hot, was fresh, and the sunlight, thoughbrilliant, seemed to lack something of that intensity to be found inthe enclosed streets of a city. He threw away his cigar stump, and indoing so he glanced back over the trail again. He remained gazingintently in that direction for some moments. Then he turned back.
"I guess those fellers riding along behind are just prairie men," hesaid.
Hazel started and looked over her shoulder. There were four men nowriding together on the trail. They were steadily keeping pace with herteam some two hundred yards behind.
It was some moments before the man received his answer. Hazel wastroubled. She was almost horrified.
"Yes," she said at last, with an effort. "They're just prairie men."Then she smiled, but her smile was a further effort. "They're prettytough boys to look at, but I'd say they're all right. Maybe you're notused to the prairie?"
The millionaire smiled.
"I've seen it out of a train window," he said.
"Through glass," said Hazel. "It makes a difference, doesn't it? It'sthe same with everything. You've got to get into contact to--tounderstand."
"But there hasn't always been glass between me and--things."
Hazel's smile was spontaneous now as she nodded her appreciation.
"I'm sure," she said. "You see, you're a millionaire."
Carbhoy smiled back at her.
"Just so." This girl was slowly filling him with amazement.
"It's real plate-glass now," Hazel went on.
"And plate-glass sometimes gets broken."
"Yes, I s'pose it does. But you can fix it again--being a millionaire."
"Yes----"
The millionaire broke off. There was a rush of hoofs from behind. Thehorsemen were close up to them, coming at a hard gallop. Carbhoyturned quickly. So did Hazel. The millionaire's eyes were calmlycurious. He imagined the men were just going to pass on. Hazel's eyeswere full of a genuine alarm. She had known what to expect. But nowthat the moment had come she was really terrified. What would Gordon'sfather do? Had he a revolver? And would he use it? This was thesource of her fear.
It was a breathless moment for the girl. It was the crux of allGordon's plans. She was the center of it. She, and these men who wereto execute the lawless work.
She was given no time to speculate. She was given no time but for thatdreadful wave of fear which swept over her, and left her pretty faceghastly beneath its tanning. A voice, harsh, commanding, bade her pullup her team, and the order was accompanied by a string of blasphemy andthe swift play of the man's gun.
"Hold 'em up, blast you! Hold 'em, or I'll blow the life right out o'you!" came the ruthless order.
At the same time James Carbhoy was confronted with a gun from anotherdirection, and a sharp voice invited him to "push his hands right up tothe sky."
Both orders were obeyed instantly, and as Hazel saw her companion'shands thrown up over his head a great reaction of relief set in. Shesat quite still and silent. Her reins rested loosely in her lap. Sheno longer dared to look at her companion. Now that all danger of hisresistance was past she feared lest an almost uncontrollableinclination to laugh should betray her.
She kept her eyes steadily fixed upon these men, every one of whom shehad known since her childhood, and to whom she fully made up her mindshe intended to read a lecture on the subject of the use of oaths to awoman, sometime in the future. As she watched them her inclination tolaugh grew stronger and stronger. They had carried out their part witha nicety for detail that was quite laudable. Each man was armed to theteeth, and was as grotesque a specimen of prairie ruffianism as clothescould make him--the leader particularly. And he, in everyday life, sheknew to be the mildest and most quaintly humorous of men.
But his work was carried out now without a shadow of humor. He lookedmurder, or robbery, or any other crime, as he ordered her out of thedriving seat, and waited while she scrambled over the back of the seatto one of those behind with a movement well-nigh precipitate. Then, ata sign, one of the other men took her place, and, at another shortcommand to "look over" the millionaire, the same man proceeded tosearch Gordon's father for weapons. The production of an automaticpistol from one of his coat pockets filled Hazel with consternation atthe thought of the possibilities of disaster which had lain therein.
But the four assailants gave no sign. Their work proceeded swiftly andsilently. The millionaire's feet were secured, and he was left in hisseat. Then, under the hands of the man who had replaced Hazel, thejourney was continued with the escort beside and behind the vehicle.
As they drove on Hazel wondered. Her eyes, very soft, very regretful,were fixed on the iron-gray head of the man in the front seat. Sheregistered a vow that if he were hurt by the bonds that held his anklesfast some one was going to hear about it. Now that the whole thing wasover and done with she felt resentful and angry with anybody andeverybody--except the victim of the outrage. She was even mad withherself that she had lent assistance to such a cruel trick.
But the millionaire gave no sign. Hazel longed to know something ofhis feelings, but he gave neither her nor his assailants the leastinkling of them for a long time. At last, however, a great relief tothe girl's feelings came at the sound of his voice, which had lost noneof its even, kindly note.
"Say," he observed, addressing the ruffian beside him, who was busilychewing and spitting, "you don't mind if I smoke, do you?"
Then Hazel made a fresh vow of retribution for some one as the answercame.
"You can smoke all the weed you need," the man said, with a fierceoath, "only don't try no monkey tricks. You're right fer awhile,anyways, if you sit tight, I guess, but if you so much as wink an eyeby way of kickin', why, I'll blow a whole hurricane o' lead into yourro
tten carcase."
It was a long and weary journey that ended somewhere about midnight.Nor was it until the teamster drew up at the door of a small, squatframe house that James Carbhoy's bonds were finally released. He wasthankful enough, in spite of his outward display of philosophicindifference. He knew that he was the victim of a simple "hold-up,"and had little enough fear for his life. The matter was a question ofransom, he guessed. It was one of those things he had often enoughheard of, but which, up to now, he had been lucky enough to escape. Heonly wondered how it came about that these "toughs" had learned of hiscoming. He felt that it must have been Slosson's fault. He must haveopened his mouth. Well, for the time, at least, there was little to dobut hope for the best and make the best of things generally.
He was given no option now but to obey. His captors ordered him out ofthe wagon in the same rough manner in which they ordered Hazel. Andthe leader conducted them both into the house.
There was a light burning in the parlor, and the millionaire lookedabout him in surprise at the simple comfort and cleanliness of theplace. He had expected a mere hovel, such as he had read about. Hehad expected filth and discomfort of every sort. But here--here was aparlor, neatly furnished and with a wonderful suggestion of homenessabout it. He was pleasantly astonished. But the leader of the gangwas intent upon the business in hand.
He turned to Hazel first and pointed at the door which led into thekitchen.
"Say, you!" he cried roughly. "You best get right out wher' you'llbelong fer awhiles. We ain't used to female sassiety around thislayout, an' I don't guess we need any settin' around now. Say, you'lljest see to the vittles fer this gent an' us. Ther's a Chink out backther' what ain't a circumstance when it comes to cookin' vittles.You'll see he fixes things right--seein' we've a millionaire fercompany. Get busy."
Hazel departed, but a wild longing to box the fellow's ears nearlyruined everything. There certainly was a reckoning mounting up forsome one.
The moment she had departed the man turned his scowling, repellent eyesupon his male prisoner.
"Now, see here, Mister James Carbhoy. I guess you're yearning for afew words from me. Wal, I allow they're goin' to be mighty few. See?"he added brutally. "I ain't given to a heap of talk. There's jestthree things you need to hear right here an' now. The first is, it'sgoin' to cost you jest a hundred thousand dollars 'fore you get intothe bosom o' your family again. The second is, even if you got thenotion to try and dodge us boys, you couldn't get out o' thesemountains without starvin' to death or breakin' your rotten neck.You're jest a hundred miles from Snake's Fall, and ninety o' that isRocky Mountains an' foothills. You ain't goin' to be locked in aprisoner here. There ain't no need. You can jest get around as youplease--in daylight--and one of the boys 'll always be on your track.At night you're just goin' to stop right home--in case you loseyourself. The third is, if you kick any or try to get away--well, Idon't guess you'll try much else on this earth. The room over this isyour sleep-room, an' I guess you can tote your baggage right there now.So long."
Without waiting for a reply the man beat a retreat out through thefront door, which he locked behind him with considerable display.
Once outside, the man hurried away round to the back of the house,where, to his surprise, he found Hazel waiting for him.
She addressed him by name in a sharp whisper.
"Bud!" she commanded. "Come right here!"
Then, as the man obeyed her, she led him silently away from the housein the direction of the corrals. Once well out of earshot of the houseshe turned on him.
"Now see here, Bud," she cried. "I've had all I'm yearning for of youfor the next twenty-four years. Now you're going to light right outback to the ranch right away, and don't you ever dare to come near hereagain--ever. My! but your language has been a disgrace to any New Yorktough. I've never, never heard such a variety of curse words ever. IfI'd thought you could have talked that way I'd have had you go toSunday school every Sunday since you've been one of our foremen."
"'Tain't just nothin', Miss Hazel," the man deprecated. "I ken dobetter than that on a round-up when the boys get gay. Say, it just didme good talkin' to a multi-millionaire that way. I don't guess I'llever get such a chance again."
"That you won't," cried Hazel, smiling in the darkness, in spite of heroutraged feelings.
"But I acted right, Miss," protested the man. "I don't guess he'd havelocated me fer anything but a 'hold-up.' Say, we'd got it all fixed.We just acted it over. I was plumb scared he'd shoot, though. Younever can tell with these millionaires. I was scared he wouldn't knowenough to push his hands up. Say, we'd have had to rush him if hehadn't, an' maybe there'd have been damage done."
Hazel sighed.
"There's enough of that done already. Say, you're sure you didn't hurthis poor ankles. You see," she explained, "he's Mr. Gordon's father."
The man began to laugh.
"Say, don't it beat all, Miss Hazel, stealin' your own father? How 'udyou fancy stealin' Mr. Mallinsbee? Gee! Mr. Gordon's a dandy. Hesure is. He's a real bright feller, and I like him. What's the nextplay, Miss?"
"Goodness only knows," cried Hazel. Then she began to laugh. "Someharebrained, mad scheme, or it wouldn't be Gordon's. Anyway, you madeit plain I'm to look after the--prisoner?"
"Sure. I also told him it would cost him a hundred thousand dollarsbefore he gets out of here."
Hazel nodded and laughed.
"It'll do that." Then she sighed. "It'll take me all my wits keepinghim from guessing I'm concerned in it. I don't know. Well,good-night, Bud. You're going back to the ranch now. You've only oneof the boys here? That's right. Which is it? Sid Blake?"
"Yes, Miss. I left Sid. You see, he's bright, and up to any play youneed. I'll get around once each day. Good-night, Miss."